why are you crying, little one?

sfw content only 💕 || agere + petre 🐾

[littlepittie]

✿ hi! my name is gracie <3 this is an account solely for sfw agere pitt content!

✿ pronouns are he/she/they/it :3

✿ writing mainly for nolevans, mcvadi, hucklerobby/hucklerabbot, barantos. might possibly dabble in x reader!

✿ asks will be open but I'm verryyy slow at answering sorry!!

✿ moodboards, drabbles/minifics, headcanons, etc!

✿ don't like don't interact, just be nice!

✿ my main pitt blog (nsfw)

✿ wlw pitt sideblog (nsfw)

[orlovbats]

"Sorry I'm not more, like, fun when I regress," Dennis says to Robby one day, utterly perplexing him.

When Dennis regresses, he goes so small that he mostly spends his time in a state of half-sleep, struggling to keep his eyes open. It's safest for him to stay in bed, wrapped up in blankets, his head cushioned on a soft pillow, where Robby can supervise him. Oh how sweet he is when he's so small. He can hardly make a sound. His needs are communicated in different tones and lengths of whines, and Robby has learned what each one signifies. He knows when his baby needs a bottle, a change or a bath, and Dennis doesn't have to lift a finger for this things.

Maybe Dennis isn't fun in the traditional sense of being entertained, but there's a tender and sweet joy that comes from caring for such an innocent thing. Robby wouldn't change a thing about him.

[littlepittie]

little!den who works himself up into fits of stress.

convinced he's been bad, done something horribly, catastrophically wrong. that he's gonna get in trouble, bad trouble, that papa will hate him because he's such a bad kid even though he doesn't mean it, he doesn't, he really doesn't—

robby cupping his baby's face with big, warm palms, forcing those watery blues to meet his fond gaze. murmuring hey. hey, denny, hey. you're okay. you're alright. you're such a good kid, you know that, don't you? papa's favorite boy in the whooole world. you're not in trouble... nothing's wrong, angel. papa's never upset with his sweet boy. never ever.

the comforting words come out in a crooning, soothing rumble until they register to poor, overwhelmed dennis, breaths shuddering out of him in hiccuped little sobs. he breaks when they do reach him, slumps into papa's arms, that safe hold he's become so dependent on. he's safe, he's safe, he's safe. papa's not upset. never upset.

oh, my precious boy, robby whispers, holding him close, rocking them a little. such a good, sweet kid. m'so lucky to have you. so lucky. my little angel. you're safe. you're safe, you're okay... you're okay... papa's right here. and you're not in aaany trouble. none at all. that's it, I gotcha... just lemme hold you, kiddo. you're okay. you're doing so good.

[bexie-n-things]

the moment robby knew it was time to get dennis mittens <3

dennis had gone down for a nap when robby decided to start dinner. spaghetti and small meatballs—something simple enough for dennis' tummy and not to heavy so his baby could have a bottle of milk before bedtime.

but that's when the baby monitor went off. dennis' cries cracked through the speaker, shrill and pained. robby abandoned the kitchen, barely remembering to turn the stove off as he rushed to the nursery.

denny? denny, what's—oh, baby. robby frowned when he saw dennis squirming from his spot in his crib... and his fingers tangled tightly in his golden curls, yanking with his sleepy strength.

dennis was too deep in his regression to realize that he was causing the pain. the poor baby.

denny, baby, let go—shh, shh, i know, baby, i know it hurts. just let go. let go for daddy, baby. robby soothed, taking hold of dennis' wrist and gently rubbing against the pulse point.

but when the gentle ministration didn't work and dennis' cries didn't ease, robby gently bent the little one's hand forward until his fingers had no choice but to let go.

the moment dennis released his iron grip, his cries choked and trembling as he lifted his arms for daddy to carry him.

robby cooed, lifting dennis into his arms with a small groan, i know, baby, daddy knows that hurt. shh, it's ok, baby—daddy's here. daddy's gonna make it better. he crooned, cradling dennis in one arm while using the second to gently rub the sore spot on dennis' scalp.

within a few seconds, dennis settled under the comforting vibrations of his daddy's voice. his tear-stained cheek squished against robby's collarbone, his eyes beginning to slip shut when robby coaxed his pacifier into his mouth.

but robby didn't dream about putting him down. instead, he lowered himself onto the rocking chair, keeping dennis cradled against his chest, i think it's time i get you some mittens, hm? something to protect your beautiful curls—daddy's baby is just too strong. he cooed, giving dennis' tummy a small tickle.

the nursery soon filled with dennis' breathless giggles, nuzzling closer into his daddy to escape the ticklish sensation. but robby didn't mind, already grabbing his phone to buy baby mittens with all sorts of patterns and colors.

anything for my little boy. robby whispered, kissing dennis' temple when he noticed his little one had already fallen asleep again.

[littlepittie]

robby quickly discovering that a nice car ride gets his baby all fuzzy, the rumble of the car and the green blur of trees something comforting. he takes little den out for car rides all the time whenever he notices some tension, buckles his pup in the backseat, kisses his head.

sometimes den just wants it quiet, but robby has a playlist full of den's favorite funk for when he's feeling a little more upbeat. sometimes they have the windows up because the wind feels too overstimulating, sometimes he has them down because den likes the wind in his curls. anything for his boy.

sometimes dennis will murmur a you don' have to... m'too much... and robby will shake his head, cradle den's little face in his palms after buckling him in. noo, baby, never too much. I like making you feel all safe and nice, okay? you're barely asking for anything, den, I like to drive you. my precious pup. don't ever doubt it.

[littlepittie]

thinking about little!robby and cg!jack.

jack is the only one who doesn't fully infantilize robby. he just... understands that robby feels smaller. sensitive and soft, in desperate need of a parent, a hug, reassurance. too much kid stuff is too far, especially with someone as ashamed as robby. he's ashamed of his regular, adult self, even moreso of the hurting little kid inside of him.

the only "agere gear" he has is a stuffed bear, gifted by jack. robby doesn't have any comfort objects from his childhood. he didn't have any during his childhood. the stuffie was a first for him, and it made him impossibly emotional the first time jack handed it to him. he gifted it when robby was still in his adult headspace, so jack could explain that he deserved to have something comforting— whether he was small or big, it didn't matter. jack told him he just wanted robby to have something soft in his life.

robby had slipped deep into regression after that. bursted out in tears, slumped into jack's hold, hiccupy like a child. jack only rocked him, kissed his head, shushed him gently. shh, shh, misha, it's okay, you're alright now. I gotcha. I gotcha, m'right here. papa's right here.

now, their routine is simple. it changes and shifts sometimes, but not often. both jack and robby benefit from familiarity, so there's not much reason to switch things up. jack will notice that robby is small, notice him go all quiet and wide-eyed, shoulders curled inwards. jack will guide him to bed, grab his stuffed bear, and cuddle up with him. tuck the bear into robby's arms so he'll have something to hold, wrap his own arms around robby so he's being held. comfort, safety, warmth.

there we go, big guy, I know. I know. it's okay to be small, okay? can you give me a nod, baby? (robby nods, hesitant, against jack's chest.) good boy, there you are. yeahh, it's okay. papa loves you so much, misha. so, so much. <3

[littlepittie]

trinity who's always been more of a quiet regressor. not just because she tends to go nonverbal, but because all of it is subtle. she doesn't crave teethers or kid toys, she doesn't babble and whine, it's like she's just... stuck in a younger headspace, impossibly sensitive and emotional.

it's not always pleasant. it's scary, it's all-consuming, it's something she desperately wishes she could just turn off. maybe she doesn't wanna watch kid cartoons or color, but she does so badly want her mommy. a mommy. someone warm and soft and safe to take care of her like a kid, hold her and rock her, maybe sing a lullaby.

and it's embarrassing, so embarrassing to want it, when she knows objectively she's big. but she doesn't feel big. she feels so, impossibly small.

when her and baran start dating, it doesn't take baran all that long to notice. she's perceptive, even moreso when she cares about someone. she notices when trinity's words start to fade, slightly higher-pitched and softer til they're silent. she notices trinity's body language change, the way she curls into herself, the way her eyes widen a little, dart around like she's expecting to be in trouble. she notices.

but she also notices trinity's quietness about it— and she doesn't wanna push anything too far, too fast. trinity is closed-off for good reason. she's been hurt over and over, taken advantage of, chewed up and spat out. baran had to coax trust out of her with weeks of proving that she's here, she's staying, and she cares. she cares so much. but baran still knows they have a long way to go.

so as trinity is quiet in her regression, baran is quiet in her caregiving. starts cuddling trinity more, petting her hair. offering to brush it for her, braid it before bed. hums soft songs under her breath, pressing kisses to trinity's head. what makes trinity finally break, bury her face in baran's neck to hide her tears, is when baran just can't help but speak up and soothe trinity with words she's been holding back.

oh, you're such a sweet girl. I know you're feeling small, trinity, okay? I know, I know... I want you to know it's okay, sweetheart, I need you to know it's okay. mama's here. I'll always be right here, shh, shh... always... mama's precious girl.

[littlepittie]

autistic little!pup!den who liiiives in Robby's old, worn shirts. he's even more sensitive to textures when he's little, the wrong shirt or a scratchy tag sends him into a meltdown. but robby's shirts are perfect— no tags, been through the wash so many times, perfectly soft. not to mention how comforting it is to have something of papa's wrapped up all around him.

and Robby just can't get enough of him in those big tshirts, cooing at the adorable sight of it. awww, sweet little puppy, look at youuu. my soft baby, huh? shh, that's a good pup, oh, I know. you're so cute, puppy, papa's precious little one. <333

[littleshepherdz]

He's stealing all of Robby's wardrobe like his life depends on. He swears it's just better! U can't blame him. ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა

[littlepittie]

little!den plopping himself into robby's lap, tired and a little shaky, quiet as a mouse. he nuzzles weakly underneath robby's jaw, just so, so sad and exhausted, in desperate need of comfort, of safety.

robby understands immediately, because he always does, because he knows his boy. cuddles dennis closer to his chest, rubs warm, firm circles over his back until dennis loosens. murmurs oh, baby boy. are you feeling small? yeah? shh, that's okay, papa's right here, baby. riight here, always.

[littlepittie]

thinking about little!den + rural hucklerobby again!

dennis riding in the passenger seat of robby's truck, window rolled down, grinning as the wind whips through his curls. he's got a stuffie with him, tucked in his arms— it's easier to stay small when he's cuddling something, and robby always helps him pick one out to bring along. what little friend do we want today, huh, pup? how about you choose one we haven't taken in a while? gotta give all your stuffies at least one adventure, sweetie. what do you think?

at a diner together, in the same booth so robby can keep dennis cuddled close, an arm around his shoulders. he orders for dennis, lets him stay quiet, shy when he's small. they sip milkshakes together and robby kisses his temple, calls him so cute. my boy. is your flavor good, bud? yeahhh, you made such a good choice.

robby reaching over to ruffle den's hair on the car ride home, making him giggle, glance over with sparkling eyes. robby loves seeing that expression, childlike and open, carefree. den's regression isn't always happy, and it doesn't need to be, but robby loves when it is. robby loves being able to make it something happy for him, make it safe.

robby and dennis sitting out on their porch swing to end the evening, watching the sunset, listening to the cicadas chirp. dennis slumped into robby's side, all sleepy-sweet, humming soft as robby rubs his side, drops a kiss to the top of those soft blond curls he loves so much. all tuckered out, huh? shh, that's okay, baby. papa's right here, I gotcha. there we go, get all comfy. my sweet boy. <3

[littlepittie]

little!den who isn't always so perfectly soft and sweet.

heightened emotions that feel too big for his body, stressing him out, making him oversensitive and constantly on the verge of tears that's he's already embarrassed of. he hates being a crybaby, hates that it's all he's ever been. growing up and trying his best to hide his wet eyes, his hiccups and sniffles, learning to cry quiet— because if he didn't, his sadness was met only with ridicule. stop overreacting. stop manipulating your mother. stop being so loud.

so to try and stop it, to try and reel it in, he snaps. petulant, pouty. robby will touch him and he'll flinch away, snarl out a don't touch me. sometimes robby will try to talk and dennis will tell him to shut up. he's mouthy and he's difficult, and that makes him so devastated all over again, because all he's ever wanted was to be easy.

he hides in robby's closet to fix it. if he's the problem, he'll just remove himself from the situation. curl up in a pile of robby's clothes, rocking and whimpering, trying desperately to make himself feel big again. to be in control again. to stop wanting his papa so badly, to stop wanting softness so badly, to stop wanting to cry.

and that's how robby finds him, curled up and shuddering quieted cries, red-faced and broken. robby's heart hurts. he's quick to gather up his boy, ignoring the protests, ignoring the fists that beat at his shoulders and chest, only focused on keeping dennis folded into him until he calms, relaxes into the comfort robby has been trying so hard to offer. murmuring shh, shh, stop, baby, stop. you're okay. you're alright, it's papa. papa's here, baby, okay? you're okay. shh, shh, shh...

dennis is breaking, babbling all the awful thoughts that he's so careful to keep inside. begging for reassurance through whines and hiccups, sounding like a wounded puppy. apologizing over and over, saying m'sorry, m'sorry, m'so sorry, papa, please, please don' leave... please, m'so sorry for being bad! I didn' mean to! I swear I didn' mean t'be bad... m'no good... I jus' wanna be easy... m'such a bad kid.. m'sorry! m'so sorry...

robby blinks back his own tears at the sound of it, cuddles dennis closer, rocking him gently. as den's babbling fades robby carefully slips a thumb in his mouth, letting dennis take to it, suckle softly, shoulders relaxing now that he has something to help him regulate. slumping into robby, all weak and lax— so, so tired.

oh, my poor boy. shhh, don't say that, sweetheart, please don't. you're not a bad kid. not ever. no matter what happens, you are my good, sweet, kind little boy, and papa loves you so very much. yeah? papa loves you. always my good boy. always my good kid. it's okay now, it's okay... shh, shh, shh...

[littleshepherdz]

Sobs

[littlepittie]

little!den who isn't always so perfectly soft and sweet.

heightened emotions that feel too big for his body, stressing him out, making him oversensitive and constantly on the verge of tears that's he's already embarrassed of. he hates being a crybaby, hates that it's all he's ever been. growing up and trying his best to hide his wet eyes, his hiccups and sniffles, learning to cry quiet— because if he didn't, his sadness was met only with ridicule. stop overreacting. stop manipulating your mother. stop being so loud.

so to try and stop it, to try and reel it in, he snaps. petulant, pouty. robby will touch him and he'll flinch away, snarl out a don't touch me. sometimes robby will try to talk and dennis will tell him to shut up. he's mouthy and he's difficult, and that makes him so devastated all over again, because all he's ever wanted was to be easy.

he hides in robby's closet to fix it. if he's the problem, he'll just remove himself from the situation. curl up in a pile of robby's clothes, rocking and whimpering, trying desperately to make himself feel big again. to be in control again. to stop wanting his papa so badly, to stop wanting softness so badly, to stop wanting to cry.

and that's how robby finds him, curled up and shuddering quieted cries, red-faced and broken. robby's heart hurts. he's quick to gather up his boy, ignoring the protests, ignoring the fists that beat at his shoulders and chest, only focused on keeping dennis folded into him until he calms, relaxes into the comfort robby has been trying so hard to offer. murmuring shh, shh, stop, baby, stop. you're okay. you're alright, it's papa. papa's here, baby, okay? you're okay. shh, shh, shh...

dennis is breaking, babbling all the awful thoughts that he's so careful to keep inside. begging for reassurance through whines and hiccups, sounding like a wounded puppy. apologizing over and over, saying m'sorry, m'sorry, m'so sorry, papa, please, please don' leave... please, m'so sorry for being bad! I didn' mean to! I swear I didn' mean t'be bad... m'no good... I jus' wanna be easy... m'such a bad kid.. m'sorry! m'so sorry...

robby blinks back his own tears at the sound of it, cuddles dennis closer, rocking him gently. as den's babbling fades robby carefully slips a thumb in his mouth, letting dennis take to it, suckle softly, shoulders relaxing now that he has something to help him regulate. slumping into robby, all weak and lax— so, so tired.

oh, my poor boy. shhh, don't say that, sweetheart, please don't. you're not a bad kid. not ever. no matter what happens, you are my good, sweet, kind little boy, and papa loves you so very much. yeah? papa loves you. always my good boy. always my good kid. it's okay now, it's okay... shh, shh, shh...

[littlepittie]

little!victoria + cg!cassie who can't stop getting cuteness aggression over her adorable little girl.

completely harmless, of course. squishing vic's cheeks and kissing all over her face until victoria is giggling, holding onto cassie's wrists, eyes bright and sparkling as she's showered with affection. it makes her impossibly giddy that cassie is so open in her love, so verbal and physical with it, never letting victoria forget how much cassie wants her here. always wanted, here with mama.

so cuute! look at youuu, you're just the sweetest thing, yeah? uh-huh, you are. my sweetheart. baby, mama loves you soooo much, cassie grins, kissing victoria's nose before cuddling her up close, squeezing tight as she nuzzles against the top of victoria's head. mhm, mama loooves you. so so much.

victoria hums a shy love you too, mama... muffled into cassie's neck, something warm building in her ribs, golden happiness. mama loves her. mama loves her a lot. victoria wraps her arms around cassie right back, squeezing just as tight. mama's sweet girl.

[littlepittie]

rural hucklerobby + little!den. dennis curled in robby's lap as they rock back and forth in a porch swing, slow and gentle. robby's softened even further since retirement, spending as much time as possible with his little one, showering dennis with affection.

dennis is slowly but surely getting used to it. the sun on his face, the breeze, the noise of the city long gone. everything is gentler, and it feels like home. the smell of nature and robby's cedar soap, the cicadas chirping. he snuffles a little and burrows his face into robby's neck, pleasantly fuzzy, so small and so safe. thoughts don't fully form, relief from any overthinking that usually starts to creep in.

doing alright, little one? robby checks, so tender, his hand lazily rubbing up and down den's back. den hums, nods, knows he doesn't need to speak. robby never makes him. robby knows things like that are hard. expressing himself is already hard enough when he's big, nearly impossible when he's small and sleepy. robby only chuckles, foot on the porch, keeping the porch swing in a rhythmic rocking. lulling his baby to sleep.

theeere y'are, that's a boy. you just get all nice and cozy, huh? my sleepy baby... shh, shh, you're alright. papa's here. just sleep, just rest now... don't even worry, sweetheart. I'll carry you in. <3

[littlepittie]

sometimes emma just can't get out of bed. a mental block that keeps her curled in soft sheets where she's safe, where nothing can hurt her, get to her. she's scared, so so scared all the time, mind fuzzy and fragile, emotions so near the surface. she shudders and whimpers soft, waits for dana to find her.

and dana always does— find her, that is. she keeps the lights dim but never off, the curtains shut, blocking off the harsher lights of reality. emma doesn't have to be big or make hard decisions or force herself to act in a way she doesn't feel. she doesn't have to speak if she doesn't want to, often finding sentences too difficult to string together. her emotions feel inexplicable, anyways. there's just so much of them. she's just so small.

dana just curls up with her, tugs emma close, rubs slow circles over her back. they'll stay in bed today, drift in and out of naps. dana will feed her snacks when she's hungry, hold her sippie when she's thirsty, keep her wrapped up in constant care and safety. petting and soothing and narrowing their world down to just this, just comfort.

shhh, there's mama's sweetheart. so small, huh? that's okay, baby, mama's riiight here. you don't have to be big, little one, not with me. mama's gonna take such good care of her precious girl, I promise. shh, it's okay now, it's okay, just rest.. mama's right here.

[littlelambybear]

Caregiver Dana Evans & Little Emma Nolan Stimboard ☆

[littlepittie]

little!trinity with headaches :( she's had them for years now, and it tends to pull her out of fuzzy littlespace whenever she gets one while she regresses. the dull ache is too uncomfortable, and after going so long without a caregiver, it kicks her brain back into well, I guess I gotta take care of it, cause no one else will mode.

not when baran becomes her caregiver. baran notices every time trinity gets one, gets a little more subdued than she is already, expression twisting a little with the ache. she knows it makes her girl feel unpleasantly adult again, in that halfway space between inner child and grown-up that's so difficult, so raw and hurting. the tears make headaches worse, and it just breaks baran's heart to watch.

so she learns how to prevent it. she's quick to tug her girl into her lap and coo soft, (there you go, come here..) pressing gentle kisses to her head. she helps trinity swallow little pills, drink some water, praising her for being able. (good job, sweetie!)

she takes trinity to bed, curls up with her. it's soft and warm, the room dimmed and the mattress easy to sink into, baran's fingers rubbing lightly at trinity's temples when she rests her head on mama's stomach. it keeps her all fuzzy and safe, kept and held. the ache in her temples starts to subside and the crisis is averted, no halfway regression or hiccupy tears. just warmth. just the quiet bliss of being taken care of for once.

theree, there you go. oh, my little sweetheart. just rest, little one. mama's right here, always will be, okay? yeahh. sweet girl. <3