。𖦹 ˚。⋆୨♡⃟⃝ "My name is Barry Allen, and I am the fastest man alive. To the outside world I'm an ordinary forensic scientist, but secretly with the help of my friends at S.T.A.R. Labs I fight crime and find other Meta-Humans like me."♡⃟⃝. ୧˚⋆。˚𖦹
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-Frank's first day back. At the end of his shift all he wants is his little gear, but Papa Robby threw it all away. Now it's Dennis's job to comfort the poor sweet boy.
-Word count - 2270
Frank wasn’t stupid. He knew not everyone was going to accept his apologies and forgive him. He knew all he could do was say what he needed to say and acknowledge that that just wouldn’t be enough for everyone. But fucking christ did hearing Robby say he didn’t want him in the ER anymore feel like a shot to the chest. Frank is a goddamn professional though. So he powered through.
Toward the end of the shift though, he knew he was running out of time. Robby was leaving on his sabbatical tonight. Frank might not get his forgiveness, despite that tearing him apart in a way that will destroy him when he lets himself accept it, but he needs to get his gear back.
It had started a few years ago. Something he had always done to some degree. Keeping a small teddy bear in his bed even through med school, slipping a thumb into his mouth when things got too heavy, cartoons as background noise for just about everything. Abby hadn’t minded per say, but she politely asked him to keep it away from the kids, not wanting to confuse them. She had approved, and occasionally encouraged Robby being his caregiver when things got bad. She would much rather have him spend the night with someone trusted who was more comfortable and competent with that than have her husband come home acting like a toddler.
Frank had checked himself into rehab the day after Robby confronted him. No time to grab the things he had collected over the years, sitting at Robby’s. His blanky, a few pacifiers, and several stuffed animals that Robby had purchased him. He wanted them back. Now that he was in his own apartment, he could at least have that stuff in the comfort of his own lonely bed.
“Robby-” Frank started as he followed his ex-caregiver through the hall.
“Very busy, Langdon. Does this have to do with work?” Robby asked, not even glancing at Frank. Ouch.
“No, but-”
“Then I don’t want to hear it. I think we said everything we needed to say to each other.”
“I- I mean, sure, but I just-”
“Dr. Langdon. People are dying in this hospital. Go save them and let me do the same.” Robby ordered as they passed the nurses station.
“Yeah, I just- you’re leaving tonight. I wanted to know if I could come get my…stuff from your house before you go.”
Robby didn’t even pause. Didn’t look at him. “I threw that shit out, Frank.” He said before rushing to an incoming trauma.
Frank’s world stopped. Everything swam and his breath caught up in his chest. He…threw it all away? His soft blue blanky with all the pretty stars? All his pacis? His puppy and his lamby and his special weighted dinosaur? They’re all gone? Papa had really thrown it all in the garbage like it didn’t matter at all?
Suddenly, Frank was in the corner of the staff room. He didn’t remember walking in here. He was alone, which he was grateful for because he was definitely crying. His shift was over a while ago. He wanted to go home. But he was slipping hard, and he really shouldn’t drive. He could call Abby. She would come get him with a concerned face and vague discomfort. His vision was too blurry and his hands were too shaky to unlock his phone. He sat down in the corner and buried his head against his knees.
The hospital was scary when he was in littlespace. It’s loud and bright and too big. Everything was so big. And his scrubs felt scratchy. He didn’t hear the door open.
Dennis just wanted a drink of water. He was about to wrap up his charting and get out of here. He certainly hadn’t been expecting…this. Dr. Langdon with his face against his knees, curled up in the corner like a puppy cowering in its crate.
“Uh…Dr. Langdon?” Dennis said softly, inching closer. He really should mind his own business. He had barely managed to man up enough to tell Amy he needed a few days to himself. He should just go home and sleep. But he can’t just leave someone crying in a corner. It’s not something he’s capable of.
Frank whimpered softly and shrunk even farther into the corner, shaking his head sharply. No. No, he didn't want to be a doctor right now. He was just a baby. Just wanted to be little and safe and hidden.
Dennis frowned and crouched down a few feet away. “No? What do you mean?” He asked gently. A voice reserved for frightened patients and Theo.
“Not Dr. Langdon. Don’t wanna be Dr. Langdon.” Frank said in a voice too small for a man like him.
Dennis didn’t really know how to react to that. This was his senior Resident. His superior. Cowering and whimpering and saying he doesn’t want to be a doctor? “You…don’t? Okay. Sure…uh…who do you want to be then?”
A tiny sniffle. Wet, blue eyes peeking over his knees. “Jus’ Frankie. Jus’ wanna be Frankie.”
Oh. Dennis knew what this was. He was definitely surprised. Langdon was a proud, secure man with a wife and kids and a successful career. And now he was…small. Regressed in the lounge after his first shift back. Dennis sat down fully and dipped his head to make eye contact with the timid, heartbroken man. “Okay, Frankie. That’s okay.” He said in that soft voice. “Can I call someone for you? Your wife? Or do you have a different caregiver?”
Those blue eyes filled right back up with tears. A tiny shake of the head. “Wife left me. ‘N Papa…” His voice got all tight. “Papa th-threw away all my stuff.” He whispered as the tears started to fall anew. “Papa hates me.” He sobbed against his knees.
“Aw shit- no, hey. Hey, buddy, I’m sure your Papa doesn’t hate you.” Dennis murmurs gently, setting a hand on Frank’s shoulder.
“No he does! He doesn’t want me here anymore and he threw away m-my blanky and my pacis and all my stuffies!” Frank sobbed.
Dennis’s heart broke. Frank’s caregiver…doesn’t want him here anymore? Wait. Fuck. “Frankie, bud, is…was Robby your Papa?”
All Frank could do was cry and nod.
Dennis sighed heavily. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. Come here. Just come here for a second.” He gave a gentle tug to Frank’s shoulder and Frank crumbled like a sandcastle when the tide came in.
Dennis held Frank against him and rocked gently. Comforting people had always come easy to him. This should’ve felt weirder. But honestly, it felt kind of nice. Like rocking Theo to sleep. “Shhh, it’s okay. Gonna be alright, little man.” He mutters, the same words he had used to soothe Theo so many times.
The words seeped into Frank’s soul. Robby had never called him that. And Dennis’s arms were thicker than Robby’s. They cradled him securely and made him feel so safe.
Once Frank was slightly calmer, Dennis pulled away just enough to look at him. “Did Robby really say he threw away your stuff?”
Frank nodded sadly.
“Oh, you poor thing. Okay. Well I will have to talk to him about that, won’t I?” Dennis said, his gentle voice not giving away the rage simmering in his chest. How dare Robby do that? How dare he just trash things that clearly meant so much to his little? Dennis understood that Robby had been disappointed and felt betrayed, sure. But to throw away comfort items during such a difficult time? That was just fucked.
Frank blinked up at him, eyelashes damp and eyes shining. “You…you would talk to him? Wh-what if he yells?”
Dennis let out a tiny chuckle and ran his fingers through Frank’s hair. “I can take it. I’ve definitely heard worse than whatever he has to say. And he needs to know that wasn’t okay of him to do. Even if he didn’t want to be your Papa anymore. You deserve better.”
Frank whimpered softly and pushed his face against Dennis’s scrubs. “You’re s-so nice.” He whispered.
Dennis chuckled again, his heart swelling with a dangerous affection. “Alright. We’re done being on the floor. It’ll hurt your back. Let me take you home.”
Frank sniffled and nodded, clumsily forcing himself to his feet.
Once Dennis was standing, he noticed Frank fidgeting. He offered a small smile as reached out his hand. Frank’s eyes lit up and he eagerly grabbed the offered hand.
Neither paid much attention to the curious glances as they headed out to the parking lot. Dennis shot Robby an icy glare as they passed.
Seeing Dennis glaring at him, holding the hand of the subdued, tearstreaked Frank, made Robby pale. He made to walk toward them, but Dennis squeezed Frank’s hand and pulled him faster out the door.
Dennis helped Frank into the passenger seat of his car and did his seatbelt up for him. It made Frank feel cared for in a way he hadn’t in nearly a year.
Dennis pushed the hair out of Frank’s face and looked him in the eye. “Do you know how to get home from here, buddy? Can you give me directions?”
Frank’s bottom lip trembled in shame. A tiny shake of his head. “Don’t think so. I- I’m sowwy…”
Dennis’s eyes softened. “Hey, hey no, that’s alright. That’s just fine. Do you know your address? So I can type it into my phone?”
Frank looked relieved that Dennis wasn’t upset. “Yeah…I know it.” He said softly. He gave the address and confirmed it on Dennis’s map app.
They had barely been driving five minutes before Frank was asleep. It gave Dennis a quiet moment to process the last hour. Jesus Christ. Okay. The one thought that remained in his head was “Oh this poor baby”. His heart hurt so bad for Frankie. Who knows the last time he regressed properly? And now he doesn’t even get any of his stuff. Because Robby, who was supposed to be responsible for keeping Frank safe and supported, had tossed everything. It made Dennis’s blood boil.
With Frank asleep, Dennis made the decision to make a quick stop. The grocery store won’t have a proper blanky, or any pacifiers that will fit Frank’s mouth. Those would have to be ordered later, or maybe handmade. Dennis could sew a blanket big enough that still had a fun pattern, he was certain. But that’s a thought for later. Right now he just needed to find something soft to show Frank that he wasn’t completely alone.
In the display at the front, with all the fireworks that have been completely picked over, sat a rack of little teddy bears. Soft red fur with blue patches on the paws, feet, and ears with little white stars. A little bowtie around the neck. It was cheap, and silly, but it was something. He bought it without question and rushed back to the car where Frank was still asleep.
When he pulled up at the apartment complex, he gently shook Frank awake.
“...Huh?” Frank blinked awake.
“Hey, we’re here. I bought you something.” Dennis says softly, handing over the teddy bear.
Frank stared at it with wide eyes and took it with shaking hands. He gently petted the soft red fur.
“I know it doesn’t replace all the nicer stuff Robby probably got you but-”
“Thank you, Daddy.” Frank mumbled tearily, eyes trained on the bear.
Oh. Oh fuck. Yeah. Dennis will be sewing that blanket. “Of course, little man. Let’s get you inside and out of those scrubs, okay?”
Frank managed to get changed by himself. He shuffled into the living room, now clad in loose pajamas, still clutching the bear like he wouldn’t dare put it down.
Dennis looked at him and smiled. “Feel better?”
“Uh-huh…” Frank looked down at Dennis’s feet, still wearing his shoes. His bottom lip trembled.
Dennis frowned. “Hey…hey what’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
“P-please don’t leave. I don’t wanna be alone.” Eyes still trained on the shoes.
Dennis’s eyes widened in realization and he kicked his shoes off like they were burning his feet. “I’m not. I swear I’m not going anywhere. I would never leave a sweet thing like you on your own.”
Frank let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you. D-do you want to borrow some jammies?”
“Yeah, yeah. Cuddling in scrubs doesn’t sound very comfy at all, huh?”
Frank’s eyes sparkled. “You gonna cuddle me?” He asked quietly.
Dennis smiled. “Of course I am. Long day like ours? Cuddles are mandatory.”
Frank let out a giddy little giggle and rushed away to get pajamas for Dennis, returning with a well loved band t and checkered pajama pants.
The clothes were too big on Dennis, but he didn't mind. The drawstring could keep the waistband on his hips, and that’s all that really mattered.
Frank blushed when he saw Dennis in the clothes. He grabbed his hand and dragged him into his bed, immediately curling against his chest and gripping the borrowed t-shirt like he might float away.
Dennis chuckled and wrapped his arms around the regressed man. “I’ve gotcha. I’m right here, sweet boy.”
Frank nuzzled against Dennis’s chest with a content little sigh. “Thank you, Daddy Denny.” He mumbled against his chest.
Dennis…really fucking liked the sound of that. Like a lot. He wanted to hear that sweet little voice calling him that every day. How the fuck could Robby have let this go?
“You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”
They slept peacefully with the little red bear tucked between them.
robby's baby boy loves touching him—that's just a fact. but everyone knew how robby felt when it come to touch; he didn't like it, often moving away or keeping his space between everyone else.
but with dennis? robby knew his little one couldn't help himself from reaching for his nose or bearded cheeks. and robby never found himself trying to escape the warm touch. if anything, the older man chased after dennis' soft fingers.
"does my little one love daddy's beard? my nose? my eyes?" robby often questioned whenever he sat in bed with dennis cradled in his arms. dennis didn't fully answer, cooing and babbling as he reached to continue his gentle ministrations.
robby would often lower himself into dennis' loose grip, chuckling when dennis squealed with delight and pressed his fingers against his wrinkles and lines.
"those are daddy's crows feet—they're from all the times you've made me smile." robby cooed, feeling dennis' newfound curiosity for the lines in the corners of his eyes, "and my lips—you always giggle when i do this..." he trailed off, pressing feather-light kisses against dennis' cheeks and closed eyes.
robby never grew tired of dennis' constant reaches and whines to touch his daddy. not when he knew it was his baby's way of expressing his love when words often escaped him.
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robby's baby boy loves touching him—that's just a fact. but everyone knew how robby felt when it come to touch; he didn't like it, often moving away or keeping his space between everyone else.
but with dennis? robby knew his little one couldn't help himself from reaching for his nose or bearded cheeks. and robby never found himself trying to escape the warm touch. if anything, the older man chased after dennis' soft fingers.
"does my little one love daddy's beard? my nose? my eyes?" robby often questioned whenever he sat in bed with dennis cradled in his arms. dennis didn't fully answer, cooing and babbling as he reached to continue his gentle ministrations.
robby would often lower himself into dennis' loose grip, chuckling when dennis squealed with delight and pressed his fingers against his wrinkles and lines.
"those are daddy's crows feet—they're from all the times you've made me smile." robby cooed, feeling dennis' newfound curiosity for the lines in the corners of his eyes, "and my lips—you always giggle when i do this..." he trailed off, pressing feather-light kisses against dennis' cheeks and closed eyes.
robby never grew tired of dennis' constant reaches and whines to touch his daddy. not when he knew it was his baby's way of expressing his love when words often escaped him.
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Have we already discussed Little!Soap being permanently regressed after getting shot
Because the idea of him crying and crying because he wants to go back, he wants to hang out with Kyle and Simon like normal, but he can't. His mind can't wrap his hand around the rules they had for their games, the weirdly drawn out rules for monopoly he used to always win at. The drinks he's no longer allowed to share with them. The conversations he misses out on. And no longer being allowed to do or be around certain things that feels like he's being forced away and ignored when he's just too small for it now.
He's stuck, so, so small. And no one's been able to get him to understand there is no fixing it.
From the moment he steps into the Pitt to begin his night shift, Jack knows something is wrong. As he'd kissed him goodbye, he'd joked to Robby that he was wishing for an easy shift, but this is simply strange. It's as busy as it usually is—perhaps even slightly busier—yet there's hardly a sound. Everyone, patients and staff alike, are speaking in low, whispering tones. They keep their heads down like nuns. Even Myrna looks subdued.
"Pussycat went cuckoo," she says to him as he passes. Jack scowls and readjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. She can't be coherent. But when he arrives at the hub and catches sight of the small crowd looking worriedly into Behavioural Health 1, her words begin to make more sense.
"Hey," he shouts. Roughly, he pushes past his colleagues until he is standing in front of the window into the observation room, bracing his hands against it and almost hyperventilating with fright. All of a sudden, the whispering in the ED feel far too loud and grating. The lights are agonisingly bright. The sight in front of him is the worst sensation of all. Because Dennis, his baby, is suffering and he is trapped in Behavioural Health. "Open this door right fucking now."
"We're waiting on Psych to come down," Dana says, trying to sound calming. "You go in there and you'll only break your heart and upset him further."
"It's really hard to listen to," McKay warns. "He's crying for his dad, we think."
"His daddy," Santos corrects. She drawls the word out so that it reeks of discomfort. Then she sighs, crossing her arms across her chest, and sorrowfully says, "He's lost it."
Jack's fright turns to fury. They don't understand. He raises his fist and almost barrels it against the glass window, stopping only millimetres away from the surface. On the other side, Dennis does not move. He only cries, looking weak, looking small, looking so desperately in need of his pacifier and blankie. With Robby, they'd talked about how they would proceed if Dennis started to slip into little space at work, but their plans hadn't accounted for Dennis being alone on shift.
The worst has happened: Dennis has regressed at work, and their colleagues have signed a 302 order to involuntarily commit him.
...If it's not too much trouble, I'd really love to see some more Homelander regressor headcanons. That guy's so baby-coded it's not even funny (his obsession with milk, for starters lol!).
(I agree so much, so in fact, that I have done Homelander h/c before lol. Though I'm down to make more! Also btw they'll be male pov.)
Not only is Johnny a milk fiend, an attention whore, and a crybaby, he's also has attachment issues! He enjoys being the center of his Daddy's attention and will get him hired at Vought solely to be closer to him if he isn't already working there.
He regresses anywhere from 3-10 but always acts younger. He also will always prefer to be padded no matter the headspace because that's more attention on him speaking of!
He will pretend to be helpless. Stage accidents both daytime and nighttime, and cry almost frequently just to get his daddy to put his eyes on him.
He always needs his milk no matter what. He prefers it a specific way, either warm and with some vanilla in it. It has to be a bottle, and it can not be flavored any other flavor. It has to be in a bottle, too. He can not be anywhere else but being cradled by his daddy while being drinking his milk.
Will get embarrassed by his Daddy overstepping and babying him when he's all dressed up as Homelander but won't stop it. His daddy is the only person he'll listen to, which Vought.... appreciates, to say the least.
His Daddy is the only one who can punish him. He'll take a spanking, a time out, sny punishment one could give a little so long as his daddy doesn't say he's disappointed in him.
Speaking of, he thrives off of his Daddy's approval. He needs to be reassured and helped through his emotions.
Though that doesn't mean he isn't prone to his diva moments. Just because his daddy helps him get into his suit so he can be Homelander doesn't mean he does it the way he likes. If it escalates too much, he will try to throw a mini tantrum. But it won't get very far.
He enjoys being called Johnny and being little. Even if he's not in headspace, he'll pretend to be regressed for attention. He's even padded while working and will stop by for his daddy to check him or change him if needed.
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