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Regressors of all kinds are welcome here: regressors of color, neurodivergent regressors, fat regressors, system regressors, disabled regressors, queer regressors, older regressors, hairy regressors, regressors who are addicts, mentally ill regressors, fandom regressors, diapered regressors, middle regressors, teen regressors, regressors who do it just for fun, regressors who do it involuntarily, regressors who post positivity, regressors who use their blog to vent, regressors who are also caregivers, permaregressors, regressors who only age dream, regressors who watch content geared towards adults, regressors who don't want caregivers, regressors of all kinds!

♦️My home was completely destroyed, our dreams were stolen, and stability was taken away here by death, hunger, and loss.💔♦️

⛔The war has returned blood is everywhere the sound of explosions never stops we lose our children every minute We deserve life help us survive death is closing in on my family we need your support more than ever⛔.The whole world is silent. There is no way out of this hell We are dying before your eyes Please don't leave us😭

$20 will make a huge difference in providing for their needs and medical expenses. I have a huge responsibility ahead of me: my children, my sick daughter, and my elderly parents.I beg you by all that is humane to support us No one gives us anything 🙏🏻💔

gofundme.com

Donate to Rebuild my house in Gaza, organised by Mohammed Motaz

My name is Mohammed, and I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart and a desperate plea for … Mohammed Motaz needs your support for Rebuil

I hope you don't watch in silence, this is part of our suffering. While you wake up to a cup of coffee, we wake up to the sound of warplanes, bombing and destruction.🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉

While you miss your bathroom and wash your face and teeth, we stand in line to wait our turn to relieve ourselves.💔💔😭

When we come to wash our faces, we do not find soap, and even the price of toothpaste has reached a point that makes us say, “No, no.”🍉🇵🇸😭😭

And when you prepare a meal for yourself and your children, all we have left is yesterday's bread, which is cold and dry and contains nothing, and we prepare it from spoiled, dirty flour that is not worthy of being food for animals.💔💔💔🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Our children suffer from malnutrition. We do not find any food to eat in the markets or any of the necessities of life. Our children thought of planting simple seeds in the hope that they could fill the gap.

🙏🙏😭💔💔💔💔🇵🇸

We suffer a lot in the tents. Insects and infectious skin diseases spread. I suffered from chronic high blood pressure due to the heat of the tents at first, but I also suffer from Behcet's disease.

💔💔💔💔

Often times we wish to go back to how we were before the war, to go back to our simple lives. Please donate even a little, your support will be a source of hope for us after all this suffering.🙏🙏🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸💔💔💔

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Salwaś family escape the war, organized by Ahmed Elqayem

I am Ahmed Al-Qayyim.. I live in Italy..I am trying to help my aunt and her family es… Ahmed Elqayem needs your support for Help Salwaś fam

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number on the list is ( #179 )

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🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

Chuffed

I Am Saja – A Mother Holding On Through the Return of War

My name is Saja. I am a wife, a mother to a precious 8-month-old girl, and I am writing this in a moment that I wish I didn’t have to live t

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

Simon and the swings

(Not really proof read, just a silly drabble of little 141)

Price loves his boys. Strong, resilient, and capable, they were a perfect team. And an even better family. They mostly lived together. It was easier than renting out places that you aren't going to be living in during deployment. Price bought a modest farm house on an ache of land. Privacy, room to move and work out.

Room to play. Sure, if someone looked at Price's backyard, they'd be convinced he ran a small day care of 20 very big toddlers. But in reality, he and the boys had spent time building an elaborate playground for them to use when they regressed.

Swings, monkey bars, a small platform that had two slides, and a fireman pole. Price had to do a lot of research, and spent a lot of time tinkering and self testing, managed a small merry go round that could fit all four boys. Of course, the playground was a big hit, but outdoor time was always a given with the regressed boys.

Today, even Gaz was regressed, eagerly helping Roach climb up the platform stairs to the slide. Price watches happily, ready to settle down on his chair under the umbrella when he notices Ghost on his own in the swings. The little one sat alone, everyone more eager to run around and play, but he wanted to swing, wiggling and kicking his legs weakly to get some momentum.

"Oh bub.." Price coos softly under his breath, setting his lemonade down and starting to walk over. "What's going on here, little one?" He asks lovingly, crouching down on front of him. Simon let out a huff, a whine, and his pout pushes his pacifier against his mask. "Ah.. understood. Want me to give you a push?" He offers, smiling softly.

Simon smiles a little, nodding happily and reaching out to rub Price's beard. "Mm! Mmhmm!" He hums, stimming excitedly as his Papa gets up and starts to pull the swings chain back. Simon had spent so much of his childhood, so much of his life, being misunderstood, being left alone, and being told he was a burden when he couldn't communicate.

But now, it was like Price could take one look into his eyes, listen to one hum, and he knew what Simon needed. Price, let's go of the chain, grinning at the squeal Simon let's out as he swings forward. Price is careful not to let him go too high. Sometimes, Simon would accidentally lose grip on the chain, falling out of the swings. So until Price could finish the swings with a seat belt, he was going to stay close to the ground.

He looks over at the play structure, watching Johnny happily climbing around on the moneky bars. He knew he should be worried that he was crawling on all fours above the monkey bars, but there was no point in getting him to stop. If anything, Johnny could fall off, take a small breather, and after a few hugs and kisses, would go back to doing it. As if sensing Price's eyes on him, he looks over and grins.

"Hi Papa!!" He squeals before going back to concentrate on his crawling. Kyle was watching Roach come down the slide, helping the little one back onto his feet when he reached the bottom of the slide.

Simon let's out another happy squeal as he swings, making a small grunt sound that sound like he needed a break. Price holds onto the chains and helps him slow to a start, rubbing his back softly and kneeling beside him. "What's up, button?" He asks softly, Simon hums quietly with a little shrug. "Wanna go play now? Feel ready?" He offers, seeing a little smile from under his balaclava.

"Si! Wanna play?" Johnny asks, standing beside the swing out of nowhere. Price never fails to be amazed how quietly his boys can move, even when regressed. Simon squeaks happily, nodding a little as he climbs to his feet and toddles after the Scott. Price watches with a smile, staring at the scene in front of him before heading back to his chair.

They'd be napping good tonight.

Please help me, my little boy is about to die, he has a serious surgery, we in Gaza do not have everything, my child is about to die, help me even with a small amount of money 😭💔

So, I hope you can help me evacuate my family from Gaza so that my child can get treatment abroad.

I ask everyone who sees this to donate or contribute so that we can get out of this nightmare.

✅ Please donate now

I think that each boy has a different relationship with haircuts and their hair

Simon keeps his head mostly buzzed, mostly because it's easy to maintain and wash. It doesn't touch him or give him sensory issues like other hair cuts. The only thing he doesn't love is the sound of the clippers or the feeling of it on his head. Ever since Price found weighted barber capes, Simon is a little calmer during haircuts with the added pressure to his shoulders.

Kyle loves wash days. (I'm gonna make a post about his regression headcannons soon) He loves having his head massaged and his curls nurtured with some good oils and proper products. Each boy has learned how to do his hair so that no matter who's the caregiver is, he can have nice hair. He's really good with haircuts if you let him watch something on your phone.

Johnny has his classic mohawk. He loves it, easy natural style, no hair touching his ears, less product used in the bath. He doesn't love haircuts, not because of sensory issues, but because he has to sit still for a while to avoid any nics to the skin. If he sits still for the most part, he gets a lollipop as a reward.

John has learned to cut and maintain all of his boys' hair because he will take any excuse to spend as much time with his boys as possible it's easier and cheaper than going to the barbers. It's the little one on one moments of cutting, washing and styling their hair that makes him feel closer to them.

The last loaf of bread for four people. A kilo of flour costs $15, and a full bag costs $400.

Please don't leave my children hungry. Donate even a small amount via the link in our bio. Please, please.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Haifa and Her Children Rebuild Their Lives, organized by hifa homid

I am Haifa, a mother of 3 children, Youssef, hifaaa823 Jourie and Joan, fro… hifa homid needs your support for Help Haifa and Her Children R

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is (#356)✅️

Impure!Regression Ghost who bites, hits, and spits, only to apologize later through a mess of snot and silent tears. He doesn't want to hit, he's just so overwhelmed sometimes, so scared.

Impure!Regression Ghost who hides in closets, behind couched, and under beds because he needs a tight enclosed space that he's hard to get too.

Impure!Regression Ghost who cries, and cries, and cries. Chest heaving because he keeps trying to hold his breath, face red, cries silent to avoid being a bother, getting in trouble again.

Impure!Regression Ghost who needs to be slowly, softly calmed, approached like a deer ready to buck and flee at any moment. He needs to be reminded he's safe, he's loved here. If he wasn't how come Soap has his favorite snack? How does Price know the words to his favorite lullaby?

Impure!Regression Ghost who has an amazing team of caretakers who are always there whenever he slips, no matter how hard. Who now gets to end those bad moments, wrapped up in a warm hug, with a full belly and sleepy eyes.

The war has returned again, Gaza is under bombardment and my area is being subjected to heavy shelling. We have lost hope in our rights. We must evacuate this city where there is no security. Donate to my family again, you are our only hope.

Donate here

raised 50$/10000$

Vetted by : 90-ghost