#IT FEELS VERY MUCH LIKE. for little kids. but like in a patronizing condescending way. do u know what i mean.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

you are doing some cocomelon shit to me

[galaxiefan]

《Dottore x innocent!puppet reader》 Part 2

《This one is particularly soft...enjoy♡~》

***

Dottore and (y/n) happily walk together. Her mind lingering on the words of her brother for a second…maybe if she ask the doctor about it… "Mr.Dottore….can I ask you something?…" she speaks a little hesitant.

Dottore seemed confused at first, and he stopped walking. But he soon recovered, and he speaks with a warm and friendly tone as he turns to (y/n), and he asks: "Of course you can, dear. What would you like to ask?" He speaks in a kind and gentle tone. He seems very approachable, and he seems to truly care about her well-being.

She stops to think for a moment…then she asks him… "are you…a bad guy?.."

Dottore laughed, a big hearty laugh that was loud and long. But then the man paused, and he stared at her, and he spoke again with that soft and gentle tone. He seemed to be speaking to her like he's speaking to a child. In a way, his kindness is almost patronizing, or condescending. "You poor, naive girl…of course I'm not a bad man. Who told you such a thing?"

She looks at the doctor with a certain relief. "oh, that's good…big brother told me to stay away from bad guys…so is good that you aren't Mr Dottore!" she smiles up at him.

Dottore chuckles with amusement, a smile on his face. He seems genuinely amused by (y/n)'s response, and he speaks in a tone that is very soft and kind. "Heh. I see. Your brother's a good kid, so he knows what he's talking about. He probably told you that because there are a lot of bad people in the world. But do you not worry about me, alright? Because I'm not a bad guy, I promise" Dottore says, gently moving a piece of hair from her face.

She smiled kindly at him…truly believing in those words…

He smiles back at her. It's so easy to make her happy, it's such an easy thing, what would it really cost to just make her happy? Nothing. It would be so easy to just be kind to her, it would be so simple. And so he smiles at her, knowing that she would be happy, and knowing that he would enjoy doing it. She's so innocent and sweet, so kind.

She looks at him again. "Mr.Dottore..what do you need my help for?..I can always help with anything you know! I'm very strong too…!" she giggles.

He chuckles again, and his smile widens. He seems very happy to hear that she's still willing to help him. He seems to be genuinely touched by her willingness to help him. He speaks with that soft and gentle tone again as he responds to her "Well, there are some experiments I need to carry out, and some of them require more than one person. And since you would so kindly offer, if you agree to help me, I would appreciate it very much"

Her eyes shine, a big smile on her face. "of course I will!…just tell me what to do, and I'll try to help!"

Dottore can't help but smile. Her earnestness and sweetness is very contagious. She's like a ray of sunshine, and with a bright and happy presence like hers she could brighten up anybody's day. And so, he puts a gentle and kind arm on her shoulder, and he pats it, gently and softly, and he speaks to her in a tone that is almost soothing, as he tells her. "And that is exactly what makes you so special. You are such a warm and kind person. And I would be very happy to have you help me"

Dottore seemed touched at her reaction. He seems to be truly convinced that she's a good person, and he seems to care about her well-being. He speaks again with a soft and gentle tone, as he seems to be trying to convince her even more of his sincerity "And, believe me when I say this. I'll always be there for you. I'll always care about you, and make sure that you are healthy and well. So do not worry, okay?" He says in a way that feels almost comforting.

"Thank you sir!….but I'm a puppet, I don't need much…oh maybe some repair?..I think you can do that" she speaks kindly.

Dottore chuckles again, as he seems to find her innocence amusing. But then he looks at her, and he gets a softer, much warmer expression on his face. He speaks to her again in that kind and gentle tone, as he seems to really care for her well-being. And as he speaks, he softly moves his hand over (y/n)'s damaged shoulder, as he speaks in a soothing way. "Yes, dear. I know you don't need much. I'll do anything to make sure that you're well. I promise I'll fix your arm for you"

Damaged?….then she looks at her arm….oh…it really is…but she doesn't remember it being broken before. "oh!…I didn't know my arm was broken…good thing you did notice it Mr.Dottore!" she gives him a smile.

Dottore noticed and he smiled back at her. She probably didn't notice her arm was broken because she can't feel it. And so he nods earnestly, and then he speaks so gently that he seems to be almost singing. "Yes, dear. That's correct. Your arm was broken. And because you're such a good girl, I'll make sure to fix it for you, alright?"

She looks at the doctor with care and gratitude. "thank you so much!..you are so kind Sir Dottore!"

Dottore chuckles, but he doesn't sound mean. He speaks again in that gentle and caring tone, the kind of voice you would use to speak with a child. "You're welcome, dear. And don't worry about it. My time is yours, at all times" He says fondly, and as he speaks, he looks at her with a soft and kind smile.

"When do you think we can start?" (y/n) speaks with excitement.

Dottore smiles again, and he speaks in a gentle tone of voice as he speaks. "Well, I'm not doing anything today. So we can start right now, as soon as you're ready" He says, and his tone is soft and kind, and his words carry a sense of sincerity. "We should probably go to my workshop, there we will have the best tools for the job. Does that sound okay?"

She nodded. "ok, let's go then"

Dottore smiles gently at her again, he speaks in a kind and soft voice as he takes (y/n)'s hand. "Alright, dear. Then come, let us walk together" He speaks with a soft and gentle tone, a tone that's almost soothing, and as he speaks he begins to walk forward, taking her with him.

They arrived at the workshop, there for (y/n)'s surprise, is a big table for Dottores procedures. She smiled at him.

Dottore laughs, he seems genuinely amused by her reaction "Ah, yes. This is my workshop…I do all my experiments here, I do all my work here. It's like my home" He says, and he seems genuinely proud. "What do you think? Do you think it's nice?" Dottore speaks again, and his voice is gentle and kind, and soft, and in his tone you can hear how much he loves his workshop.

"The table is soooo big!…can I lay on it?" (y/n)'s eyes shined. she is very happy that Dottore wants to repair her broken arm.

Dottore's heart warms as he sees her smile. He feels so glad that she's excited. He smiles back at her, and he speaks in a gentle tone as he leads her to the table, he speaks to her in a kind voice as he tells her that of course she can lay on the table. "Of course, dear. Here, lay down" He pats the table a few times to beckon her, and he speaks with a soft and gentle voice, and with a kindness that almost feels paternal.

She happily lays down, waiting for him to start. she watched the doctor with interest and softness.

Dottore lays out his tools, he has all kinds of instruments. There are tools made to fix all kinds of puppet and machine parts. He moves around them, and then he sets himself up, before he turns to (y/n), he looks at her and smiles, as he speaks kindly to her in that soft voice he has. "Alright. I'm ready. You just have to be still, okay dear?" Dottore speaks to her in a soft and gentle voice, and his tone is almost soothing.

"Ok!.." she happily obeys.

Dottore then starts to work. He has a certain skill and proficiency that can only be built up from years of experience of doing it. He looks like he's done this many times, and he knows just exactly what to do. As he works, he speaks to (y/n). "You're doing great, dear. You're very obedient, and you're so patient" She can hear a tenderness in his voice, genuine tenderness.

She looks at him work, eyes full of wonder. "thank you! I'm so happy you're helping me… your hands are so quick too! Like lighting..but also so delicate! like silk…I love it! your so cool Mr.Dottore!"

Dottore chuckles again, smiling as he keeps working. He's glad that he's making her happy, and he's glad that he's the one fixing her, and he's so glad he gets to do it. It truly is very simple, to make her happy. And all he has to do is keep speaking in this gentle, soft, kind tone, and speak very tenderly. And so he does that as he keeps speaking, and he smiles at her. "Thank you so much, dear. That makes me feel very happy, you know?"

She smiles warmly, happy to make him happy. "I'm glad I made you happy! you make me happy as well..your fixing my arm for me! normally my big brother does that..but you are soooo much quicker!" she giggles.

Dottore chuckles at her words, and he speaks to her again in a friendly and soft tone of voice, as he seems to genuinely enjoy working on her, and he's glad to be able to help her "I'm glad that you're happy, dear. I'm glad that I'm the one who gets to work on you, rather than your big brother. You really are very precious to me" He says softly, and he really means every word. He's so sincere, his kindness cannot be doubted

(y/n) takes a moment to think, and she makes a very important, but brave(or stupid) decision. "Mr.Dottore…I thought about something…and…when you are done fixing my arm…I'll let you take a look on my mechanics..I…really trust you."

Dottore's heart warmed by her words, and he stops working for a moment as he turns to her. He smiles, and he speaks to her with softness in his voice, and kindness. "I would be more than happy to take a look at your mechanics, dear. Thank you for letting me, I'm flattered that you would trust me enough to let me see that" He says genuinely, his voice full of sincerity. It truly is very nice for him to be given the chance to look at her insides, and he was genuinely moved by her words.

(y/n) smiles kindly. She hopes to help him with his research…

Dottore finishes his work on her, and he stands up to look at her. He seems pleased with his work, and he's glad that he managed to fix her up, and she seems to be feeling better. He speaks gently and with kindness, and as he speaks to her, he sounds happy to have made her happy. "There we go. I finished doing my job. I think your arm is fixed. How do you feel?" He asks her, looking at her with a soft and friendly smile. He truly does look very proud of himself.

She starts to roll her shoulders a little, it seems to be in order. "thank you so, so much! It feels good as new!" she smiles.

Dottore smiles back at her, as he watches her move her arm. He was glad that she seemed happy and satisfied, and now as he looks at her smile, he can't help but see that he did a good job. He's happy that she's happy. And there's a certain feeling of pride in himself, because he managed to fix her up, and help her. He speaks again, with a gentle and kind tone of voice, as he speaks to her. "I am so glad that I could help. That makes me so happy to hear"

(y/n) then asks him. "Do you want to look at my mechanics now?…I can show you how they work!"

Dottore speaks to her again, and his voice is soft and gentle, and when he speaks there sounds like sincerity and a genuine kindness. "Yes, dear. I'd love to have a look at your mechanics. That would be amazing" He says, and as he speaks, he genuinely sounds very happy at the chance.

She then willingly opens her chest. As a puppet, her inner working seemed to have a certain glow. "look! Here is my lungs, see? I can breathe in.." she then breathes in to show him how it works on the inside. "an then out.." she breathes out as well."is fun!"

Dottore nods enthusiastically, as he stares at her insides with a certain fascination. As her lungs glow, and their glow shines brightly against the dim light of the room, his eyes seem to stare with wonder and amazement. The glow that shines from her lungs is truly beautiful, and it's like seeing a star up close. And at the sight of her lungs, Dottore sees something else, something deeper than just her beautiful lungs. He sees her soul. "They're perfect… I could look at them for hours…" He says, staring at her with a mix of both fascination and kindness.

"Oh! Oh! Look! There's my heart! is my favorite part of me! It beats sooo fast! And it glows too!…look at it go!" She then starts to imitate the sound of a beating heart….so cute.

Dottore watches with wonder. He watches as her heart beats, as it glows brightly in the dark, and as she imitates the sound it makes. His heart fills with a certain fondness as he looks at her heart beating, and he smiles at her with a kindness so deep it's almost a kind of warmth. A warmth filled with affection and kindness, and also with a bit of melancholy. "It's beautiful…" He says softly, as he stares at her heart in wonder. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

"Thank you! I can show you more if you want!..I have a lot of moving things inside me" she smiles.

Dottore nods enthusiastically, and he smiles back at her. He speaks to her again, now in a kind and tender voice. "I would love to see more. I've never seen anything like this before. I'm very interested to understand your inner workings. There's so much to learn, and I love learning." He says with a kindness that seemed almost paternal. He was so interested to learn more about her, about how she worked.

"You can touch them if you want to….just…be reeealy careful ok…?" (y/n) tells the doctor.

Dottore nods, and he makes to reach out with his hands. He reaches for her heart, before hesitating, and he looks up at her as he asks her "Are you sure that it's alright for me to touch them?" He asks her, as he continues to look at this beautiful heart of hers, and as he speaks, his voice is filled with a certain concern and care. He was very cautious, he wanted to make sure not to break anything within her.

"Yep! Just be careful and gentle…that's what my brother says to me" she smiles again.

Dottore nods, and this time he reaches out and touches her heart. He's still careful, and he's very gentle, caressing it and touching it as if it could break at any moment. And as he touches her heart and feels it, he speaks again, and in a voice filled with tenderness, he speaks to her. "It's so beautiful…" He says, as he gently caresses it with his hand, as he is in awe of it's beauty.

She giggles a little. "i-it tickles!.."

Dottore chuckles as he hears (y/n) giggle, a sound that makes his heart warm. Now as he hears her giggle, he caresses her heart even more tenderly, and he speaks again, as he continues to caress and gently rub her heart. As he speaks, his tone is warm and affectionate, as he laughs gently. "You have a cute little heart, dear. Your laugh is really wonderful" He says, as he still caresses and rubs her heart lovingly.

Dottore continues to gently explore her mechanics, caressing her inner parts with a gentle touch that was filled with warmth and kindness. It was an interesting experience, and he found himself quite fascinated by everything that he was seeing. Not only did she have such a beautiful heart, but there was also a certain grace to her inner workings, and it all seemed so delicate, yet with a certain complexity. There were so many beautiful parts to her.

She seems happy to watch him…

Dottore is still gently exploring her insides. He seems fascinated at all the intricate, and gorgeous parts that she has. He was intrigued by everything that he saw, and the more he touched, the more interested he became. His eyes sparkle as he looks at her, as his touch is gentle and careful, as he caresses her parts and sees them. "There is so much beauty inside you, my dear… You are really wonderful…" He says to her, as he caresses her again with kindness. As he feels her, this is his true and genuine thoughts.

She smiles sweetly."thank you! I'm happy you think I'm beautiful.."

Dottore smiles back at her, and he continues to caress her with a gentle touch. Now he speaks to her again, and in a voice filled with kindness, he says to her "I find you very beautiful, my dear. I'm happy that you shared this with me, and I'm happy to learn about you" He says, as he looks up at her with a gentle expression of love and affection

(y/n) is just such a sweet soul, even if it is an artificial one.

Dottore smiles back at her, as he reaches one of the upper parts of her body, and he speaks to her again. This time, there's a kindness and tenderness to his words, as he speaks in a voice filled with emotion. "I really appreciate this, my dear. It's been so long since I've had anyone show me any kindness" He says, letting his emotions and his heart show in his voice. It makes his voice sound more sincere, and genuine, and it was clear that what he said here was the truth.

"I'm happy to help you Mr.Dottore" she says as a small little spark on electro courses throughout her body. she giggles. "that happens some times…hihi…"

Dottore notices the spark, and looks at her. He smiles when she giggles, and now he speaks in a soft and tender voice. There's so much affection and care to his words. And as he speaks, his eyes shine with a certain love that's deeper than just kindness. "Well that's just adorable…It's like I'm making you giggle" He says, as a smile crosses his face. There, clearly, was genuine happiness and love to his words and in his heart.

"I do this when I'm happy…" she laughs softly.

Dottore laughs along, and as he sees her laugh, his heart melts. She's so adorable. And there's something… Magical about her. The way her laughter fills the room, and the softness and kindness that radiates from her.

Then she had a idea. "Mr.Dottore…can you take off your mask?….I just…want to see how your eyes are….can I..?" (y/n) asks gently.

Dottore is taken back by her sudden request, but after a moment of hesitation, he speaks to her again. His voice is soft and gentle, filled with a certain love and kindness, and he seems to want to please her. He nods, and as he does this, his mask is then removed, and his face is then revealed to her "Sure, my dear. But you must promise to not make fun of me, hm?" He asks her, as he speaks in that same gentle and loving tone of voice, as his beautiful eyes shine forth and he waits to see her reaction

Her little heart skips a beat, he can visually see her reaction from within. "wow….your red eyes are sooo pretty! you are so pretty Mr.Dottore!"

Dottore smiles, as he sees her reaction. He's very pleased to see that she likes his eyes, and her complement fills his heart with a certain warmth. Now he speaks again, as his eyes shine brighter at the compliment.

"Oh, you make me so happy, my dear. I'm glad you think they're pretty"

He says, as he continues to smile, his red eyes looking directly at her as he does this.

Her heart begins to beat faster, little sparks of energy now forming around it. "haha..look, look..sparkles!"

Dottore watches the sparks of energy, and he looks at her with a certain fascination. He watches them with curiosity, and there's a certain warmth to his expression. She was certainly beautiful, and seeing this is something that fills his heart with joy. Now he reaches out with his hand, and he gently touches one of the little sparks with his hand "So small. Yet so pretty" He says, as he gently caresses the little spark with his hand.

"Haha…it-..it tickles-haha!" (y/n) was very happy…

Dottore chuckles again from seeing her giggle. It fills him with this feeling of warmth, and the softness and kindness of her giggle makes his heart melt. "Oh, you adorable little thing!" He says, as he gently caresses her again. His touch is full of kindness, and he touches each of her little sparks with a sense of gentleness and a soft kindness. He smiles again, his red eyes brimming with warmth and affection.

"Hihi!…i-i think is because of your eyes…I like them a lot!" She says, still giggling a bit.

Dottore chuckles again, as his eyes sparkle. There's genuine happiness and love to his smile now, and her kind words have filled his heart with joy. "My red eyes, eh?" He says with a smile, as now he caresses her cheeks, with a soft and tender touch. "They are lovely, aren't they?" Dottore says, as now he can feel how happy she is, how much she loves him, and just how happy he makes her. To be able to do that for her, is a beautiful thing, isn't it?

"Is perfect!…now I understand why you have blue hair!…is to go with your red eyes!"(y/n) says very happily.

Dottore chuckles again, a warm and joyous laugh, and there's a sense of pride as he hears her say this. Now that she mentioned it, it was kind of obvious. His blue hair was to go with his red eyes. He smiles to her as he speaks to her again. "Well, you're certainly right about that, my dear" He says, as now he speaks with a sense of pride and joy in his voice, and now that's she mentioned it, he realizes how his hair and eyes work together so well.

To that, her heart beats faster, and more sparkles appear. It seems this happens when she is happy. "wow! I made even more sparkles!…so many! a heart full of little sparkles!" She says laughing happily.

Dottore chuckles again, and as he watches these little sparks, he feels this urge to protect them. They're so delicate, and so precious. Seeing her heart filled with them, with so many little sparks of joy and happiness.

"Are they coming from your heart? Your little heart is sparkling beautifully my dear, I think that's one of the most wonderful things I've seen" He says earnestly, and he cannot help but smile at the sight. He is filled with love, and at this moment, he loves her more than anything else in this world.

"Yep! it happens when I'm happy!…you made me happy then! (gasp!) so your eyes do too! so many happy things! haha.!" She is beaming right now, so very happy.

Dottore sees her smile, and he smiles in return. He sees how happy she is, and how she's beaming with joy. And it fills his heart with a certain sense of warmth and pride. These are truly wonderful feelings, that he was so lucky to experience. "My eyes make you happy? Well I'm happy that they do my dear. I'm happy that I can bring you some happiness" He says, as he smiles at her, and as he continues to gently caress her cheek with a soft and tender touch.

"You do! the sparkles say so!..look! look..! So fast! Hihi!" She is quite happy.

Dottore sees the sparkles and he smiles. Seeing her this happy makes his heart melt, and it fills him with a sense of genuine joy. He laughs at her laughter and at how happy she is, and his eyes shine bright as he sees her smiling and laughing. "Yes, indeed! You're so adorable, my dear. Truly adorable, indeed" He says, as his warm laughter fills the room like music. He speaks with a kindness and a warmth to his voice, and he speaks with such love. And he feels his heart melting at how happy she is.

Dottore looks at her, as he speaks with a voice filled with kindness, and with the same gentleness and sincerity that he had spoken with before. "My dear… I'm not just happy, you have brought me a joy that is so much deeper than we humans can even comprehend. Your laughter is like music to my ears, your smile like a painting for my eyes, and your presence reminds me of just how beautiful life is" He says, as he smiles gently at her. He means every word of what he says to her. She is indeed beautiful, in every way.

The sparkles in her heart seemed to tickle his skin, as a way of saying thank you. She is really happy. "I'm so glad I helped you Mr.Dottore! I'm going to help you everyday now!..I like it a lot!" She says with a smile.

Dottore looks at her, and there's a certain love in his eyes. He really is happy now, and she did help him. He speaks to her, and his voice is gentle and full of love, as he speaks with a certain love and affection to her. "I would be oh so grateful, my dear. I'm lucky that you want to help me. Not many others could care enough about me to want to do that. You are so precious" He says, as a small, kind and soft touch lands on her cheek again.

The sparks in her heart seem to flicker softly, as she likes how he treats her so fondly. she smiles. "I'm your special assistant! always here to help!..hihi!"

Dottore sees her smiles, and he smiles back at her, as his heart melts in a certain happiness to see her like this. She is indeed so wonderful, and to know that she would actually want to help him, was so much more than he deserved. He cannot help but wonder how someone so amazing could love him at all. "You are indeed special, my dear. And I would be so lucky to have you be my assistant" He says, as he smiles back at her, and he gently caresses her cheek again.

Her hand goes to touch his own on her cheek, her small and delicate hand compared to his…so delicate…so precious. "tomorrow…I'm going to show you something very special I can do….brother said to keep it a secret….but I trust you!" She smiled at him.

Dottore notices the way that her hand touches his, and he feels his heart melt again at the gentleness. It's so delicate, so soft, and so sweet. She's really so precious, and he cannot help but like this. Seeing him this way fills him with a sense of love, a happiness he never really had before. "Well, I feel grateful to be trusted, my dear. I will cherish your trust" He says, as he continues to smile at her. "I look forward to seeing your special something, my dear"

As they are done doing things in the lab, they open the door to leave. "today was a very fun day!…I like spending time with you Mr Dottore" (y/n) says as she comes out the lab with him.

Dottore also exits the lab, with (y/n) by his side. He then turns his eyes to her, with kindness and love to his voice. "Likewise my dear. It was a lot of fun, and I enjoy spending time with you too. I would be more than happy to have you by my side, and I will do my best to make you happy. You will not be a burden to me, I will make sure of that" He says, as he continues to gently caress her cheek with his hand.

She smiles up at him…a sweet smile. "tomorrow…I'm going to show you something so cool….I think you'll like it"

Dottore chuckles again, and he speaks with a warm and kind voice "Then I look forward to seeing it, my dear. I'm sure it will be awesome, just like you" Dottore says, as he continues to gently caress her cheek with a soft and loving touch. He looks at her with kindness and love, but also pride, as he speaks to her. He is proud of her, and that's clear. She really is so precious, and he cannot help but love a person like her.

Dottore smiles one last time at her, as they say their goodbyes. He had never felt such a wonderful feeling in his heart, and this day had been one of the best in his whole life. He cannot wait to see her again, to see her smile, to see her shine. And he says to her as she leaves. "Farewell my dear, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow" He says, as with a gentle and tender touch of his hand, he caresses her cheek as one last sign of kindness and love.

"Bye-bye Sir Dottore! see you tomorrow!" (y/n) says as she goes back to her and her brother's room to rest for the night…

As they were saying goodbye to each other, a certain brother was waiting for (y/n) to come back…it's been so many hours now….he was worried if the doctor did anything to her…..

***

《Ooooh...cliff hanger!..》

♡

[lewis-winters]

Day 9: Role Reversal

part of my OC-tober 2022 (that's prolly going to bleed into 2023)! This takes place in the late 1920s, early 1930s, when they were much younger than in the original timeline of People Like Us and in their "we're still frenemies (more friends, tho) but I'm also secretly in love with you" era. Truthfully, I just wanted to write about Teddy in his Female Impersonator/Drag Queen get up. Teddy Davies and Lucas Samsa belong to @hellofanidea! I hope I did them justice.

tw: period typical homo/queer/transphobia, use of the f-slur maliciously, and sexual harassment (a nameless, third party being a little too pushy)

“Oh my,” Teddy swoons as he enters the tiny dressing room, going so far as to sweep a hand up to his cheek in delighted surprise, his painted lips, perfectly coifed wig, carefully made-up face, and silk green gown completing his homage to every Hollywood starlet of the silver screen. “My hero!”

Much to Lucas’ annoyance, Amy and Mags laugh.

“Wounded in battle, and all for you, pretty girl!” Mags crows, taking Lucas’ injured hand and waving it in the air, as if to prove a point. “Look at this delicate face—poor thing’s going to be black and blue tomorrow.”

“Aww,” Amy sighs, faux-concerned and loving every second of this, the bastard. “What’s yer momma gonna say, Lulu? She’ll throw a fit.”

“And yer daddy’s gonna shake yer hand, protectin’ yer girl like that!” Mags pitches in, taking Lucas’ chin to wiggle it in that condescending way she does, when she likes to lord her height, her broadness, her manliness, over his slighter, shorter, and paler frame. Boyish mannerisms made even more boyish by her male impersonator get up, her clothes padded and square in all the right places, the feminine curves she loudly denies she doesn’t have, hidden expertly beneath the layers of what should have been an ill-fitting suit. Handsome, in all aspects except personality, at the present moment, reminding Lucas too keenly of those crass and snarky boys in school he’s always tried to avoid, when he was a kid.

The unwanted reminder sours what’s left of his mood, good or not, and he sharply shrugs out of Mags’ hold with a damning tsk. “Fuck off,” he spits.

It surprises them all.

All except Teddy. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands together like a chiding mother after a stretch of awkward silence. “You’re both on in five minutes.”

Amy and Mags file out quickly at his cue, too eager to follow Teddy’s directions if it means that it’ll get them away from a grumpy Lucas as fast as possible. A small part of him still largely unaffected by his anger cringes inwardly at his behavior, aware that this was no way his parents raised him to treat his friends, much less ones as loyal as Amy and Mags. But the bigger part of him is still fuming over his current predicament, so he stays silent as Teddy carefully closes the door after them.

And continues to stay silent as Teddy picks his way through the messy dressing room to reach Lucas at the far end, sitting up on one of the rickety desks with a cold towel pressed to his rapidly swelling lower lip. For once, the golden-haired, green-eyed bastard is respecting his quiet, the carefully blank expression he keeps on his face seemingly serving as a muzzle over all those buzzing thoughts whizzing around behind his eyes. Lucas can see them, even in the split second it took for Teddy to accidentally meet his eyes, then rapidly look away, before diligently checking Lucas over like he has a lick of a clue what he’s doing, humming both affirmatively and negatively at what he finds. It’s unnerving to see him this artificially still, not when moments ago he’d been sparking and flaring like a candle flame, dancing and singing amongst the Aurora’s patrons’ tables, skirt swishing, heels tapping, bare shoulder shimmying to the music, exuding so much life Lucas had felt like his very breath was being squeezed out of his body.

“What? What do you want to say?” Lucas snaps, feeling all kinds of sharp all of a sudden. “I can see you holding your tongue.”

“And here I thought you liked me quiet?” Teddy gently teases, smiling slightly even when Lucas sends him a withering glare. It gets quiet again for a moment, but the careful mask has since slipped, enough for the smile to stay, and despite himself, Lucas softens. Just a bit.

“Thank you,” Teddy says, finally looking up to meet Lucas’ gaze with eyes so clear, so green. “I could handle myself but… thank you.”

Swallowing hard, Lucas nods, jerkily. “I know,” is all he can bring himself to say. Because he does know; even dressed the way he was, the anti-thesis to a man’s man, an open target for anyone and everyone, Lucas knows Teddy could handle himself. He’s Teddy, and Teddy is big. Larger than life, really. Slight in some places, with his tapered waist and long, pianist fingers, but tall and broad shouldered, with a wit sharper than any knife and a confidence so overwhelming, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, in all the worst and best ways. Teddy Davies has known all his life that he was handsome, that he was beautiful, intelligent, and adored, and it informed the way he moves through the world more than anything else, no matter how much he denies that it has.

Men like Teddy were made to be looked at—the ideal All-American Jock, the Golden Boy, meant to inspire all those other men around him to rise and conquer; whilst secretly wishing his downfall with all the pitch-black jealousy hidden in the darkest corners of their hearts. At first his perpetual presence in the spotlight came off as self-absorbed and vain to Lucas, but the longer he knew him, the more Lucas came to understand that, for a queer who likes to wear women’s clothes and dance all weekend through, the spotlight was the most terrifying, loneliest place to be.

Yet in it he remained. Made it home, conducted the eyes that ogled him with a commanding hand and a toss of his pretty head, and made himself even more seen. Shameless. Larger than life. Daring them all: Look all you want. You won’t like what you see, but I don’t care. I’m not going to change.

Teddy was the bravest person Lucas knew.

Still, that doesn’t mean he has to be the loneliest, too. “He clipped you,” Lucas says, lifting his hand to touch the part of Teddy’s sleeve that had ripped upon contact with the rowdy man’s signet ring, when Lucas had pulled him out of the path of the punch. Teddy meets him half-way, shaking his head.

“Hey, let me be doctor, now,” he says, soothingly, guiding Lucas’ hand down to his lap. “I have to say, it’s odd to be on the other side this time.”

Yes, because on top of being brave, Teddy was righteous, too. Knowing he’s beautiful and handsome, also comes with the price of knowing that, to others, he always appeared to be in the position of right. The world, collectively, was lucky Mrs Davies had known what values to drill into her boy to make him as kind as he was, using whatever authority that’s been carelessly thrust unto him in the best ways he could. Truly, this isn’t his first bar fight with a man who has no understanding of the word no, and this isn’t the first time Lucas has silently worried over bruises that marred his skin, either.

But this was perhaps the first time Lucas has ever seen Teddy shrink. Just for a split second, so minuscule that nobody else saw it—but Lucas had. Seen the slight flinch, the twitch of his lip into an upset frown, when that man, that dreadful man, had shoved at him and called him all sorts of terrible things, all for getting in the way of his unwelcome advances on one of their patrons.

“Faggot,” he’d sneered and the word rung so loud in everyone’s ears, and Teddy’s face had fallen, and all Lucas could see was red.

He had swung first.

“I wasn’t joking,” Teddy tells him now, voice still quiet, but teeming with a gratefulness and a bit of awe. His eyes twinkled. “You really were a hero down there.”

He wasn’t, not quite as practiced in the art of brawling as Teddy was, but between the two of them they’d managed to get the unruly gentleman flat on his back in two minutes.

Mrs Davies had been quite annoyed at her fairy of a son and his quiet friend (as she called them, affectionately) stirring up quite a storm, but the vindicated curl of her lip that appeared when some of their burlier patrons came to toss the man on the street, was enough for Teddy, who’d apologized for the commotion with a small, cheeky smile. All they’d gotten was a swat to both their backsides and an order to put Lucas’ face on ice.

And now here they were.

Lucas didn’t feel like a hero. But he wasn’t going to tell Teddy that. He just grunts, instead. “Sure.”

Teddy smiles, and that’s the end of that conversation. The next few minutes are spent back in blissful silence, with Teddy puttering around with a couple of rags to catch the melting ice that drips from Lucas’ fist and face, even going so far as to wipe at his split lip with one of them, clearing away the blood and debris with a gentleness Lucas knew he was capable of, but has never experienced himself. This close, Lucas can count his lashes, darkened significantly with mascara, curled and fluttering delicately against his rouged-up cheek. Count the freckles he didn’t quite cover with his make-up, the ghost of vast constellations peaking just so behind the fine dusting of perfumed powder. See the part in his bangs where his wig cap peaks out, a flesh-colored net that should break the illusion, but completes the picture, instead. Carves out a new Teddy that Lucas has never had the privilege to see up close.

Blonde bombshell Teddy Davies, more beautiful than any Hollywood starlet. Everything about him is delicate. Delicate and girlish and pretty, and it takes all of Lucas’ self-control not to reach out and touch. Just to check that it’s all real, and that this Teddy had truly been on stage just an hour ago, singing and charming all the men who hollered for more at his feet.

That this Teddy is before him now, fluttering his lashes at Lucas like a practiced coquette. “There you go,” he says with a giggle. “My hero.”

Lucas colors. “Shut up.”

“No, really!” Teddy laughs with a purr, patting Lucas’ uninjured cheek. “So butch! The second you came in; I picked you out of the crowd immediately.”

For some reason, he feels strangely pleased by that. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you with your little suspenders and that curly bed o’ hair? Oh, you had all my girls swooning. I was so jealous,” Teddy says, flouncing about a bit more now, fidgeting nervously with his hair and reapplying his lipstick in front of the nearest boudoir, as if his words have finally fed him the energy he’d lost, scuffling on the bar room floor in his nicest dress. “I mean, I may be old news, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be upstaged by the new fairy in town.”

“So sorry to have distracted your adoring audience.”

“Truly, I require financial compensation.”

“Does it have to be financial?”

“I could be persuaded to a drink.”

“Alright. But,” Lucas says, grinning. “You have to be on my arm the whole night.”

“Oh, my,” Teddy gasps. If he was blushing, it would have been impossible to see under all that make-up. Lucas takes it as a win, though, when he reaches up to push a bit of lose hair back into place behind his ear, eyes briefly turning away to assess the state of the floor. “Well, if the gentleman insists.”

“I do.”

They smile at each other. “I wish you’d told me you were coming,” Teddy says, so quiet it could have been a whisper. As if admitting it too loudly would take away the weight behind his words.

Lucas hears it. All of it. “I didn’t think you’d appreciated it.”

Teddy scoffs. “I would’ve loved it,” he says, sincerely. “In fact, if I knew you were there, I would’ve performed better.”

A part of him wonders if Teddy could possibly do anything to top that performance, with all its bells and whistles and… piano humping. Just thinking back on it has Lucas’ head spinning, and he knows, if Teddy put his mind to it, he could make even a grand show like that look like a carny attraction at a subpar county fair. “I don’t think so.”

“No, truly,” Teddy laughs, so painfully earnest, his face completely softens into that self-deprecating look he gets with that pretty flush that travels all the way from his forehead down to his powdered neck. Lucas couldn’t help but stare. “It’s always easier when I know I have someone I have to impress.”

“You always impress me,” Lucas says, surprising himself with his honesty. “I am always impressed by you.”

Teddy stops. Fully stops, freezing in place once again and taking with him the collective breath of the world—or maybe just Lucas’, who can’t do anything to deny how beautiful he finds Teddy in this moment, staring at him with those green eyes and those full lips parted in a gasp, a tentative openness to him akin to wondrous hope.

The bravest, loneliest and most beautiful girl in the world.

Then, Teddy laughs, half-delighted, half-mocking. “Aww.”

Lucas really doesn’t know what he expected. “Shut up, Davies.”

“Now don’t start.” Teddy coos, reaching out to ruffle his hair and dance just right out of the way of Lucas’ playful swipe. “You adore me, you really do! Did you hear that world? Lucas Samsa adores me!”

Lucas doesn't deny it. But he does throw a soaking wet rag at Teddy's face to hide the fact, and lets the moment quietly slip away in the wake of Teddy's subsequent rant about his ruined make-up.

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2

(Or as this series is becoming: Bruce Looking After His Kids at Fancy Parties)

Part 1

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out what he should be doing with his hands, or how to stand. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, though there’s no destination for him that’s that much better than where he’s already been. The various corners of the crowd all feel more or less the same, all absurd, all suffocating.

The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them.

Jason freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking.

“Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s new pet project-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to. Jason’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle.

He reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

“You will never put your hands on my child again.”

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?”

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” The man who interrupts is in the minority, in that he has not had the good sense to pretend not to be paying attention to the whole scene.

Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man and the woman.

“So you did touch him.”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t like to be touched, knows that he can have something like a fear response to it, if it comes unexpectedly. And there are very few things that he hates more than his kids being scared. But he also knows better than to publicly chastise socialites specifically for scaring him, knows better than to bring his fear to people’s attention.

“This is ridiculous,” she says.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks.

He looks around. First at Jason, taking stock of him, making sure he’s all right. Then to what remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman was, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are easy to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason.

“You okay?”

He nods at first, then shrugs. He’s not sure if he wishes that things didn’t bother him as much, or just that people would quit doing the things that do bother him. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m never going to be good at this.” It isn’t an apology, or an admission of guilt, more like he’s daring Bruce to tell him that he needs to be.

Bruce makes a sweeping gesture around them.

“You’re clearly not the only one.”

An amused little half smile quirks onto Jason’s face, and Bruce revels in it.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason really does. But he still hesitates.

“I’m not sure if I can remember how to get back.” He’s still not that familiar with this part of the city.

“What?” Bruce looks genuinely confused. “No. Jason, I’m going to take you home.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, if you want to.”

Bruce smiles at his feigned nonchalance.

“Do you have a jacket?”

Jason tugs at the fabric of his suit coat.

“Is this not a jacket?”

“I suppose it is. It’s chilly out though.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Like Dick didn’t run around in his underwear twelve months out of the year.”

Bruce lowers his voice slightly.

“Yes but not for lack of me trying to get him to put pants on.” His tone is unnecessarily serious.

Jason wants to laugh. Instead he rolls his eyes again.

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

There are things that Bruce did with Dick that he learned quickly not to do with Jason, patting him on the back, ruffling his hair, putting a hand on his arm. But when Jason takes the initiative to reach out, he never pulls away. He takes the middle seat in the taxi, putting him immediately next to Bruce, their arms pressed directly against each other. Bruce delights in his son’s closeness.

---

Bruce’s “outburst” is all over the news for the next week. Alfred buys a copy of the first tabloid to print a headline about it, and hangs it on the refrigerator.

Jason isn’t sure why, the whole thing was awful and embarrassing, but he find himself smiling whenever he glances up at it.

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[yanderart]

He caught you when no one else did; defeated you when no one else could. Whether you liked to admit it or not, Eraserhead had clearly proven his worth.

So why didn't you prove yours, little villain?

Another portrait for my POV yandere series, this time of Aizawa. Got a few people requesting me to draw/write for him so hopefully y'all enjoy it 🖤

Below the cut, as customary for the series, is a longshot one-shot that delves further into the backstory (Aizawa x Villain Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: dub-con, graphic smut, Bad Bondage Etiquette, degradation/humiliation, brat (villain) taming, cumplay and slight bimbofication. Scumbag Aizawa is real.

— — —

   The day you met Eraserhead, looking back, saying your worries had been misplaced would be an understatement. With not being apprehended and losing street cred at the very top of your list, it was decidedly easy to skip over any of the other big red-lettered warnings.

   You first felt the tickle in your nape while you carried your acquisitions across downtown Musutafu, accompanied by the familiar presage of someone watching your every movement. The city around you was bustling, as was the norm, as loud and meandering in its complaints as a chronically diseased elder, yet the alleys you took as shortcuts grew quieter and quieter with each step. 

   It was eerie, alarming, and a platitude of other adjectives you shamefully chose to neglect. 

   “So this is the great V/N in the flesh,” the lazy cadence of someone calling out your alias froze you mid-step, the way his owner dragged each syllable telling you he hadn’t yet decided whether you were worth wasting his breath on. 

   Your body was responding before you even had a chance to properly process the threat, running on instinct and muscle memory as you twirled to face the mysterious man and prepared to...

   “Cute dress, kid.” Eraserhead in the flesh stood barely a few feet away, glowing scarlet orbs illuminating his preternaturally blank expression and transforming it instead into a visage of pure intimidation. “Didn’t pitch you for the frilly type.”

   The growing panic in your chest put a hitch in your breath as you stared back. Yet you couldn’t help but still try, fruitlessly hoping—hands clenched, nails puncturing your own flesh as you tried to force your dormant quirk awake. And all for naught, considering your efforts were only repaid by the hatchet of your sinking realization being buried even deeper. 

   Although, the Pro-Hero also appeared to notice your meager attempts, taking a few steps closer to your form with a condescending gleam in his otherwise somber features. 

   Before you were conscious of what you were looking at (and before you had half a mind to attempt a quirkless attack on the hero), you observed the weapon wrapped around his neck unfolding fluidly, the extensions of fabric reaching out to envelop you in a forceful embrace that left your arms tucked to your sides and your back uncomfortably straightened. 

   “Better to trap you before you get any wild ideas. It’s your fault you’re in this position in the first place anyways,” he was taunting you, prodding you and poking you as you found yourself completely at his mercy, uselessly struggling much in the same way many of your victims had surely felt in their last few moments at your hands. 

   "Eraserhead," his pseudonym resembled an insult on your tongue, your rage and resentment making for rather colorful enhancements. "Don’t you have anything better to do than trapping helpless girls with this weapon of yours? Didn't peg you for a pervert."

   Usually, you managed to reign in some of your nastier attitudes, channeling them into your quirk and the violence you could inflict with it…

   But tied up and under the influence of his own ability as you were? All you had was pettiness. 

   "You can dress up as a civ all you want. Won't be fooling me." He took several steps, closing the distance between you two with barely the hint of a smile morphing his stern expression.  

   You could see the faint stubble on his handsome face from this up close, blood-shot eyes that refused to blink as they studied you in ample detail. Could even see the scar carved onto one of his cheekbones, a textured promise of the fight he had survived and now wore as a medal. 

   Such was your luck, that the Pro to finally catch up with you had to be this rugged scumbag. 

   "I'm not even engaging in any criminal activities, Eraseridiot." Your insult was terrible, but you were never much of a verbal sparrer. Not when you could use your fists instead. "What are you gonna send me to the pigs for? I know my rights."

   And you did. So when the condescension on the lazy hero's face turned into a full-on expression of mockery as he approached your "bag of acquisitions," you audibly gulped. Goddamn stalker couldn't have been following you for that long? Could he? 

    If only you knew. 

   "Then," he held up the bag with an indolent brand of interest, the contents dangling tauntingly from his clutch. "How do you explain this over here? I reckon even dirt like you knows what stealing qualifies as." His other hand dived for the contents and before you could voice any protest, cheeks blushing furiously, a slow hint of a chuckle was bobbing his adam's apple. "It would be a fun thing to peg you down for, though."

   That damned weapon of his didn't give out an inch as you started to furiously struggle, becoming instead impossibly tighter with each futile attempt at freeing yourself.

   "You fucking psycho, is this your sick way of trying to pick me up or something?"

   But your quip did not deter him at all (if anything, it spurred him on). The hand inside the bag tensed for a moment before he was retrieving the sole object inside. To say mortification was written all over your face would be an understatement. 

   A dark pantyhose now hung from Eraserhead's nimble fingers, not a second being wasted by the Hero before he proceeded to bring it up to his face, carelessly stretching the garment until you could see every single one of his features through the sheer material. The way the moonlight caught in it, bouncing off and bathing his patronizing face, made for uncomfortably intimate imagery. 

   (Yet a part of you, one you would never admit existed if further questioned, also could not help but notice the striking attractiveness of it all, making you want to squirm for completely different reasons while the man continued to exert his quirk on you through the fabric of your fucking lingerie.)

   "Gotta say, didn't take you for a pantyhose kind of gal either. Girls like you…" He uttered the last part more like an afterthought, tossing the bag aside before his hands continued toying with the tights absentmindedly. "Are suited for something like fishnets much more."

   By that point, you were sure he was just playing with you. You were such a harmless joke, restrained and showcased like a prize for his viewing pleasure.

   "Reckon you must own quite a few pairs, uh?" He continued egging you on when you failed to give a timely enough answer. 

   (Perhaps the fact that he so easily guessed that detail should’ve been your first real warning, too.)

   Yet you couldn’t help how his condescension and the downright dirty way he stared at you sent dark shivers up your spine, the threat he represented turning strangely alluring under the dim street lights illuminating you both. 

   As a villain, you had robbed, murdered, set people ablaze, and even stolen a popsicle or two from some crying kids. So why were Eraserhead's words having such an effect on you? Why did, a part of you deep down, seemed enthused by the awful way in which he was speaking to you?

   "You don't have any proof I stole them. I just threw away the receipt after I bought them. Very environmentally unconscious of them, too, when electrical ones are a thing."

   Now you were just rambling. What an adorable sight. 

   "Hmm, never thought I'd hear "environmentally unconscious" being uttered by a two-bit criminal." He stopped stretching the lingerie for a moment, thoughtfully scratching at his incipient stubble with his free hand instead, "Are you really trying to sell me the good samaritan angle?"

   To his credit too, he seemed genuinely puzzled by your approach for an instant. Guess even an experienced pro like him still had room to be shocked. 

   "I'm not trying to sell you anything, imbecile." The snobbishly controlled tone of yours was back, the shaking of panic subsiding while you held onto your only hope of leaving this confrontation unscathed. "And my rights clearly state you need proof to apprehend me. Need causality to exert your quirk on me, too, or you would be the one breaking the law." 

   Now, Eraserhead wasn’t annoyed per se. You could tell from what little he had already spoken (and from the myriad of cautionary tales you had been told) that little could rattle the man at all, but your comment definitely appeared to intrigue him. It made you feel like an animal being studied, pinned down, and ready to be dissected for his own morbid curiosity.

   "Isn't this just rich?" His tone was almost lethargic, words dragging on with a faint rumble. "Are you going to run off to the police, then? Tell them how a Pro trapped you and tried turning you in for a very obvious act of theft?", his eyebrows were raised, eyes more awake despite his monotone voice carrying on. "Be my guest then."

   Because of course you were all bark, no bite and he was more than willing to call you out on your shit. So instead of continuing down that route, you decided to veer for a new approach, switching from your assortment of insolent tactics. 

   "Do you get off on this, then?" Your voice morphing into meekness while you adopted an expression of distress, bottom lip jutting out with the sparkle of thinly veiled sarcasm glimmering in your eyes. "Do you like thinking of yourself as the Big Bad Hero, maybe?" And you could tell by the way the incipient smile froze on his lips that your question had caught him off guard. Made you wanna press even harder, "Do you like the idea of taking a defenseless little girl into an alley and showing her just how bad you can be? Maybe planned on teaching me a lesson, is that it?"

   His frown mimicked yours now, no longer any hints of cruel enjoyment on his part. His eyes still glowed red, but he was now squinting ever so slightly, zeroing in on you not only due to the limits of his quirk but also due to the words rapidly continuing to escape your impudent mouth. 

   "Does Eraserhead like to fuck his lays into being law-abiding citizens? Is the power over someone else what really gets you off, perhaps?"

   It was like a spell was cast on the both of you. He couldn't drift his attention, his eyes couldn't stop scanning your face — quickly flickering from the hatred coloring your gaze to the slight quiver of frustration shaking your lips. The hand which he still used to grab your stockings was now a closed fist, knuckles growing pale from the poorly contained strength.

   "Bet you plotted this entire thing, you creep. Wanted to take me behind an alley and show me my place." Your taunts were becoming increasingly more risqué, the anger blurring your sense of preservation—and the hint of something else too, a secret excitement you were unwilling to recognize. "Wanted to have me all submissive and obedient under you, surely. Show me what a scary hero cock can do, is that it?"

   But instead of earning another entertaining grimace, you had a first-row seat to the rapidly darkening expression on his face. Eyes squinted at the same time that the bandages settled even tighter around you, cutting off your breath for a moment before relenting just enough not to suffocate you. 

    And that's when you first felt it for the first time, just when your jests died on your lips and you drank on his foreboding reaction. The grip of Eraserhead's quirk, more constricting than any ropes, wavering faintly around the prison he had constructed around you; the distinct buzzing in your hands returning for a mere instant before flickering out again.

   Now that was interesting.

   "Should watch what you're saying," the pro-hero sounded gruff, voice tinted by a new kind of intensity.

   Like a shark smelling the smallest whiff of blood, you couldn’t help your instincts urging you to dial down. 

   "Always knew you hero types had a hard-on for the power trips. Bet you were using all of this as a decoy. Is this when you strip me and hold me down? When you plow me into the floor of this alley and tell me to "behave or else"?" 

   You knew your jabs were going too far, getting too brazen… yet as much as you enjoyed making the Pro visibly uncomfortable, once he decided to close the distance between you two there was little you could do to stop yourself from flinching. A fire inhabited his expression, the vivid brightness emanating from his stare not only intimidating, but downright frightening too.

   "Are you trying to rile me up?" His hand gripped your face with force, bandages shifting until they were enveloping your neck, holding you up and forcing you to reciprocate his glare, "What do you think will you achieve by antagonizing me even more, V/N?"

   You just looked at him through your eyelashes, still somehow managing to play up the innocent act through the layers of fear settling in. And as expected, it only served to further his irritation, calloused fingers digging even deeper into your cheeks and coaxing the claws of terror to continue trailing their nails all around you. 

   "I’m just trying to understand you, Eraserhead." The way you smiled at him was defiance personified despite it all, your tongue wetting your lips while you caught his eyes following the movement. There was the slightest give of his quirk again, a fluctuation in his concentration informing you that you were finally on the right track. "And I think, given the fact that I haven’t been cuffed yet, that we can both still come to a mutual agreement."

   Fingers twitched around your jawline, muffling your words while your sides were squished together harshly. But even manhandling you, the Hero couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes, an interest you foolishly believed to be ignited by your former comments. 

   "So you are indeed trying to rile me up then." It was an assertion, not a hint of doubt in his leisure intonation. 

   Instead of replying this time, you just slowly blinked his way, observing your imitation of meekness reflected in a gaze that refused to abandon yours. It had been so long since you last tried to play coy, so long since you needed to depend on anything besides your own strength and ruthlessness. You couldn’t help the thrill you got from playing the role. 

   "Think you’ll get me distracted enough to break away, I bet." He was whispering directly against your skin after getting dangerously closer, the heat from his cushioned lips provoking an involuntary shiver. "Do you believe nobody else tried this approach before, little villain?"

   You gulped, feeling caught before you even had time to properly set the stage. 

   "I wasn’t..."

   "Weren’t what, trying to seduce me?" There was a sense of levity hidden somewhere under his timbre, stored between words that kept dragging on in a mantle of aloofness. "Or did you not mean any of your words?"

   When you didn’t reply, you could feel the cruel smile resurfacing against your earlobe. 

   "If I lift your dress right now, do you think I’ll have my answer?" His question sounded almost casual, as weightless as your alias had been when he first called you out. 

   Your heartbeat sang in your chest, an anxious hummingbird trapped inside your ribcage. Because you knew the answer, you both did. 

   When the hand still clutching your bunched hosiery came up to press the fabric against your thighs, you could not help the gasp that escaped you.

   "I bet all those things you were just saying…" His tone drifted off as the stockings were slowly guided up the vastness of your legs, fingers barely grazing you through the thin layer of the stolen undergarments. He was thoroughly teasing you, enjoying the manner in which your expression contorted in response. "You just want me to do them to you, don’t you?"

   Even if you would’ve wanted to object, the pressure of his nylon-covered digits finally reaching your dampened panties was enough to kill any possible refusal. He traced the outline of your slit, soft touches running across it with deceitful lightness, and your mind became positively staggered as you were rendered overwhelmed by his actions. 

   You didn’t have to worry about his next move for long, either, because barely a moment’s notice passed before his entire palm was eagerly covering your crotch. And the new way in which he groped you was demanding, the heel of his wrist putting just enough pressure to drag a shamefully loud mewl from you. 

   The douchebag even had the gall to laugh at your reaction, the sound of his mirth prompting you to writhe even harder as he continued to feel you up through your rapidly soaking underwear. 

   "Knew you’d be a slutty one." His breath was hoarse against the side of your face, the stubble on his jaw scratching against your skin in a way which made you wonder how it would feel pressing elsewhere. "So fucking wet, it must hurt being this eager."

   He didn’t specify what exact kind of pain he meant, whether your growing need for release or the insufferable blow all of this represented to your pride. Somehow, though, you had an inkling that he was referencing both. 

   "Wanna show me just how needy you are?" His words echoed with each laboured breath of his, one of the few signs you had that he was clearly very much into the whole affair despite his detached demeanor. "Maybe you could show me more of your adorable little cries." 

   As Eraserhead rutted his palm against you another time, you found your hips lowering down to chase the feeling much to your own chagrin, more moans making their way out of your panting mouth while he coaxed you to sing the notes of his preferred melody. 

   It was true that you hated his guts… but another fact was that you hadn’t had action in a long while either. Even with the threat of imprisonment hanging over you, you could not deny how desirable the idea to get to cum against that veiny hand of him was, to grip those muscular shoulders as you reached the perdition he was so tantalizingly offering. 

   Decidedly forgotten was your plan of you being the one distracting him. For fuck’s sake, you really were a needy whore. 

   "Why not show me how you cum for me in this alley, if you’re really that desperate?" His words kept getting cruder, his tongue tracing a languid stripe from your earlobe down to the side of your neck, a beautiful path of distractions threatening to dip your sanity even lower. "Be the dirty little villain that I know you are, doll."

   But just as soon as the stimulation was hitting you a second time, so it suddenly disappeared. One second fingers were flexing against your tender flesh, coated by your arousal through the layers of fabric separating you and fluttering with the promise of an impending release, and then the very next instant you were left to whimper (a villain like you, actually whimpering!) in the unbearable wake of their absence. 

   When your eyes searched for the Hero’s again, in his blown out pupils you could only dare interpret part of the enjoyment he was getting from watching you scram for his touch, beautifully bold handwriting spelling out arousal for all to read.  

   Watching you so easily betray your own ego after all of your lip service? More than simple music to his ears, it was an entire sonnet. 

   "But, now that I think of it, you were the one trying to walk away free from this. So why should you be the one getting pleasured?"

   Even in your precarious situation, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 

   "Are you fucking kidding me?" Apparently, your discomfort at being denied was enough to forego your better senses.

   The bindings contracted around you in quick response to your insolence, your neck being craned even further and your arms mishandled until they were behind your back instead of at your sides, a sharp pain blooming from your shoulders as you struggled to adjust.

   Treated like this, he really did make you feel like a helpless little doll. (Goddamn, that thought alone was enough to have your juices gushing again, the trails of your excitement starting to make a mess of your inner thighs.)

   "You don’t get it, do you?" He asked in a despondent voice, unblinking eyes still refusing to abandon your face as he elaborated, "you should already be on your way to some second-rate villain prison, cuffed and muzzled and someone else’s problem."

   At his reminder of what you believed to be your impending fate, the mocking pout on your face transformed into a retelling of real horror. Because your spotless reputation was the one trick in your book that had managed to give you a sliver of notoriety over the rest of the unremarkable criminals, much more significant than any quirk or grandiose crime. 

   So for someone like you to lose that? You might as well hang up the villain costume and retire, for all anyone would care. (And yes, you had been called an attention whore a lot throughout your life, but who could blame you when you couldn’t help but thrive on it?)

   Sensing your spiraling thoughts, the Pro raised his eyebrows in an almost pitiful stint, as if he was truly empathizing with the agonized look of your face. 

   "I know you don’t want that, doll." As his declaration dragged on, the grip that had been steadying your jaw was swapped instead for the peculiar feeling of damp fabric —your pantyhose being pushed against your cheek and spreading your own juices around, all while Eraserhead intently studied the new wave of disgust coloring your features. "So why not show me that even a villain slut like you can behave? Give me a reason to believe that and..." The slickered garment was now pressing to your closed lips, your eyes starting to water with the weight of the humiliation you were being made to endure. "Maybe then I’ll consider letting you go."

    You knew he was lying, had every right to doubt the sincerity of his promise and, in its place, conclude he just meant to take advantage of you in your desperate state and then leave you for the pigs to find anyway. 

    You knew all of that, and yet you still opened your mouth and allowed him to do as he pleased. When he worked the pair of soiled stockings inside, you had troubles recognizing the pathetic sight being reflected your way from the wild hue of his gaze. 

   For someone who had always prided herself in being a predator, you had never looked more like prey.

   "Fuck, that’s it, doll." He pushed the piece further with his fingers, forcing you to stretch your lips until your jaw started to hurt from the strain. His fingers swirled inside, pressing the soaked material against the flat of your tongue and instructing you to eagerly lick it.

   You had never felt as debased in your entire life, being forced to choose between savoring your own arousal while tied up in an alley or ruining a reputation you had fought so earnestly to maintain. 

   (And yet your thighs were pressing together now, attempting to create some meager friction to alleviate a yearning that did nothing but shift, demand, grow.)

   "Look at you cleaning up your own mess," he almost sounded proud of you as you kept dutifully sucking, his other hand brushing your hair away from your shoulders in a strangely consoling way. "Seeing you all obedient like this, one could be fooled into thinking there is yet hope for reform."

   By the time the Hero finally took his hand away, bunching up the stockings before fitting them into one of the hidden pockets of his dark costume, you thought you could discern a mocking smile through the clouds of tears.

   "But now, now, doll… are you gonna keep crying or do you wanna try and take proper care of me next?"

   Not finding it in yourself to raise your voice again, you instead opted to wet your lips hesitantly as you awaited for him to elaborate further. There was a question dying to be asked, struggling somewhere alongside the myriad of insolent retorts and insults you wished you could swing the Hero’s way without being harshly reprimanded. 

   "I wouldn’t call that proper exactly," a chuckle reverberated from the back of his throat, gravely and dark as he misrepresented your movements. Fingers still slick from your saliva caressed your bottom lip, massaging it in a way which played straight into the undermining tilt of his words. "Although I’m sure you must be dying to wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Would give you a good reason to stay quiet, uh?"

   You really had been intending not to fall for his obvious goading, not trying to give the Pro anymore reasons to be harsh with you (or even worse, give him an excuse to leave you alone and to a fate worse than his company ever would be). 

   Had tried so hard too, but the cocky villain in you could only take so much degradation before it snapped. 

   "Goddamn it, are you trying to fuck me or bore to death?" As for the slight quivering in your voice, you dearly hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. 

   Predictably enough, that slip earned you another harsh tug from the capture weapon, your whole body pulled back until you thought you were about to be snapped. 

   "I was just about to praise you for being all sweet for me, V/N." The switch from his pet names to your alias felt like a bucket of ice being dumped on you, voice a slow drawl while he tugged once more from your bottom lip, but this time harsh enough to have you wincing. "I’m trying to teach you how to be a proper girl, so don’t make me regret it. Or would you prefer to go take a prolonged vacation in a holding cell?"

   He already knew your answer judging by the way his eyes coldly studied you, unearthing the secrets you uselessly attempted to hide with an ease that unnerved you (and, as much as you loathe to admit, fascinated you). 

   When he tugged at your mouth again, nails sinking just enough to be noticeable, you knew he was expecting a verbal answer. And a nice one, at that. 

   "Then fucking get on with it…" Words slurred at the end, caught up in the increasingly somber aura of your captor before you swallow thickly, quickly adding as an afterthought, "Please."

   At that, his scowl receded enough for some satisfaction to find its way back into his grimace.

   The more you struggled, the sweeter your surrender became.  

   "Not perfect, but better," he conceded with a thoughtful hum.

   If you had properly studied just who he was beyond his active Heroism, then you would’ve understood just how accustomed he was to insubordination. If anything, your act only served to make him feel more at home.

   You had barely any time to wonder about whatever he had planned next though, because in an instant that damned contraction of his was moving you around once more, twisting you until you were facing the brick wall of the alleyway with heaving breaths. 

   Your legs were now maneuvered until you were forced to keep them apart just a smidgen, the new inviting space between your thighs surely a most intoxicating promise for the sick man manhandling you. And your back experienced pain afterwards too, harshly pushed until you had no option but to allow yourself to be pressed against the dirty walls; As a result, you found yourself with your ass backed up and for the world to see, the frilly skirt of your dress caught somewhere between all the movements.

   Yet even being roughed up as you were, when a hand reached out to tug your ruined underwear away you couldn't help greedily rutting into it, too worried by the fire gathering in your lower belly to care about maintaining a semblance of the reluctance you would later claim to have experienced. 

   It was almost comical for the Hero to observe the pathetic image you were now serving up on an ornate platter —especially when compared to the list of deviant crimes and horrors your spreadsheet of accomplishments preached. For all intents and purposes, you really were a horrible, messed up individual…

   So it was a wonder why his mind had kept supplying him with the same descriptor ever since he first saw you, the same sweet little word that he thought might as well be written all over your skin for how accurate it described you.

   A cute little doll (soon to be his cute little doll). Despite believing himself to be a fairly responsable Hero, the man had never wanted to play with anything as much as he did with you.

   The sound of a zipper being lowered was alarmingly loud in the emptiness of your surroundings, as loud as a wail to your sensitive ears. When you squirmed below your restraints, nonetheless, you could no longer pinpoint whether it was from unadulterated fear or a sick sense of anticipation.

   How easy it had been to break you, even if you would never recognize it openly.

   "Knew you were into it, and now watch your ass trembling in excitement for me." He was chuckling again, not pretending like the cruelty coating his words had any other intention but to degrade you further. It had been just his luck, to find the one villain who just so happened to enjoy it. "I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, doll?"

   When the lewd sound of one of his fists pumping his cock reached your ears, you didn’t even bother disguising the whines of complaint refusing to be contained any longer. 

   "Stop..." Words spilled from clenched teeth, growled out with an annoyance that no longer sought to defy, "Fucking..." but to demand instead, "Teasing."

   "Hmm, that’s cute. Why don’t you try begging me though?" His cadence was growing as bated as his breath, littered by intermittent curses as his eyes dined on the sight of your glistening core, held up and offered up for him to do as he pleased. "Beg for me to use you, and if you put on a good enough show I might just let you off."

   Another shiver rampaging it's way through your body, an exhilaration that could not be entirely pinpointed. 

   "Please…" You started, rough intonation dripping with venom —But Eraserhead didn't seem to mind the sardonic nature of your pleading though, not as you heard the litany of damnations being spilled from his lips. Your shameful excitement, your bitterness, your hatred… he would feast on it all and do it gladly. "Get on with it, bastard. Didn't anyone tell you never to toy with your food?"

   A low murmur was your only response at first, followed by the lewd sound of his pre-cum covered cock being harshly jerked.

   "Hmmm, aren't you being a bit too demanding…" His steps echoed again behind you, his unoccupied hand coming up to massage your ass with a rather firm grip. "Even with the begging, I don't think you've learned your place yet."

    When he planted a slap in the same place he had been eagerly caressing before, sharp and flaring up your nerves with the sting of pain and humiliation, you couldn't stop your scream from turning into a wanton little moan halfway through. 

   Even if he was hitting you, it still meant he was touching you, and so enticingly close to the place you actually needed tended to.

   "Do it…" your breathing was too heavy to speak in full fluid sentences, body flushed and mind filled with the buzzing of desire. "Do it again, fuck."

   You were still not begging him like he asked, but it seemed like your choice of words still greatly pleased him. Another slap rained on your ass, his big warm palm massaging the same reddening spot right after.

   And he kept going, the spanking echoing through your body and sending both pain and pleasured shivers up your spine—lewd sounds mixing in with the increasing pace of his other fist pumping his cock. Even without directly touching you, your pussy clenched and weeped with each firm hit. 

   "Damn, it's my first time meeting such a masochistic whore." Punctuated by his most painful slap yet, the globes of your ass left trembling and a furious shade of crimson to match his lust-filled eyes. "I can see why you've managed to stay free for so long, little villain." The debasement, paired with the pain of his firm strikes, had you moaning even louder. You couldn't even recognize your own sounds, nor the thrills you felt at this entire fucked up ordeal. "Wonder how many other Pros you showed this beautiful sight to."

   Even through the fog of sensations impeding you from being wholly coherent, though, you still couldn't help but want to set the record straight. 

   "None, fuck…" Words merging into another expectant whine when you felt his hand gripping your flesh again, only this time he was kneading you in an oddly tender way —Urging you on, fingers creeping closer to your needy hole. "I'm not… usually in the business of fucking Heroes. Shit, I hate this…" 

   But you didn’t, and when you were surprised by the warmth of his naked erection barely grazing the sensitive outer lips of your cunt, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you. 

   "Goddamn, V/N, even while you're an ill-mannered brat you still manage to know just what to say." 

   And then the older man was sliding his cock in the juncture of your thighs, teasing your core by pressing against it while grunts began to escape him. You thought you could cry from having him so close yet still not where you wanted him, but then his shallow thrusts against your legs proved to be much more stimulating than you first expected. 

   The fat head of his cock even managed to somewhat stimulate your puffy clit with its movements, pushing in its direction as your essence continued to leak out and cover you both. And It was so absolutely debauched, to think a Hero was using your thighs like a fucktoy while you were tied down and unable to stop it....

   But it felt so good. Even without him actually in you, you had never been this turned on before. 

   "More… ughhh," you were now screaming with the side of your face pressed flush against the disgusting brick walls, needy sounds filling the night and making it privy to your descent into madness.

   Another thrust, this time angled just precisely enough not to caress your pleasurable areas. Punishment, you feverishly thought while you attempted to wiggle your ass, eager to force more of that delicious friction you were quickly becoming hypnotized by. 

   "Now, V/N," his gruff voice had adopted a mocking tone of reprimand as he continued to rut against the soft skin of your thighs. "Haven't I taught you anything, yet? If you want something…" The hand returned to your heated skin, digits underneath you both spreading your pussy enough for the chilly night air to send shivers straight to your core. "You gotta say please."

   And say please you did. Screamed it even, so eager for more and already far beyond feeling any embarrassment. 

   He didn't fuck you, not like you really wanted, but suddenly his thick shaft was sliding between your lips as his capture weapon aided him in angling your body just right, pulsing against your hole while he found a new rythimn. When both of his hands returned, one of them held you back to make the process even easier while the other swiftly joined his cock in tending to your eager pussy.

   So lost were you in the new raw excitement seizing you, in the knowledge of just how messed up you both were for engaging in such debauchery —so distracted that you didn't even notice the faint buzzing returning to your arms, the vibrancy of an old frequency being reactivated and allowed to encapsulate you again.

   (You didn’t notice, but fuck if it didn’t made your orgasm all the sweeter.) 

   You were cumming like that, your moans resembling squeaks, your body feeling closer to a used fucktoy than a human being. The hero kept rutting against you, the joint efforts of his cock and hand mercilessly continuing to abuse your spasming cunt while your cries filled the space with their decadence. 

   You felt dirty, guilty, maybe even a little ashamed as the orgasm briefly gave you a clarity of mind your arousal had clouded.

   And yet, despite it all, it had been the best you felt in years, possibly ever. As the Pro now tugged your hair, forcing you to wrench your neck just enough to look at him over your shoulder, you couldn't help licking your lips in expectation of what he had in store next.

   "You're gonna show me your face next time you come, little villain." He gave you just enough time to nod, eyebrows drawn as your pleasure got impossibly dragged out by the stimulation he still bathed you with. "And you're gonna keep begging me, keep showing me why you deserve to stay free, okay?"

   It was commendable, how collected he managed to sound while thrusting into your thighs like that, the sounds of skin slapping against skin driving each of his words home. 

   "Yes, fuck, whatever you want…" Despite your senses shortly coming back earlier, you were still too far gone to rethink your poor choices. You just knew you wanted more, and so you asked for it. "Just give me more, please."

   So fucking obedient. If your parents could see you know, their failure of a villain daughter being all proper and learning to beg for what she wanted? Well, perhaps saying they'd be proud was a stretch, considering you were also the one getting fucked in the middle of a filthy alley. 

   What you hadn’t expected, however, was just how well your begging would work. 

   Because the next thrust of his shaft was not between your legs, but aimed to finally breach your needy cunt instead, easily filling you up in one go with how utterly soaked in both of your juices you already were. The girth of him had you already clenching with renewed vigor, his hand stopping his assault on your clit just to give you enough time to truly savor the new intoxicating sensation.

   And when your eyes found his again, so drunk on the waves of pleasure you were that you also failed to notice the lack of scarlet coloring the orbs boring into yours, now inescapable voids of dark desire and a type of intense fixation you thought hadn't been there moments ago. 

   (Or maybe it was always there, and you had been too busy with your own turmoil to notice the clues being left by your so-called enemy).

   "Want me to stuff you properly?" His guttural question hit you at the same time as his sharp movements found your tender spot with experienced ease, walls tightening around him while your entire body struggled to continue holding yourself upright, relying more and more on the capture weapon to keep you from toppling over. 

   The binds still hurt from how tightly they wrapped around you, bruises sure to be left on their wake, but by that point you weren't so sure anymore the sting was an entirely bad thing. If anything, it just made the pleasure all the sweeter by comparison.  

   "Want me to fill you with so much cum that you reek of hero cock for the rest of the week?" He laughed while he regurgitated some of your words from earlier, the hand pressing against your lower stomach caressing you with a distinct sense of ownership as he elicited another loud moan with a sharp movement of his hips. 

   Noticing you reacting not only to his actions but to his quips, you could practically hear the self congratulatory smirk as he spoke next.

   "Bet the other villains would love knowing how much of a cockhungry whore you turned into too, doll. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy."

   And he was right, in a way. Because what would your fellow villains think, seeing you being wrecked by one of the most infamous Pros in the business, lowering yourself to pleading and screaming as he rearranged your insides. 

   Would you get called a disloyal whore or just a plain traitor? Not only would your spotless reputation and the myth you had fought to build collapse, but from its ashes your eternal shame could be erected. 

   A shame that would tower over you, looming around you while the eyes of your peers followed you everywhere. You could even picture the jests veered your way, the looks of utter disgust and ridicule...

   Somehow, the idea of anyone finding out only made your screams grow louder, impossibly more fervent. 

   "Fucking… get on with it."

   However, his rhythm was rapidly interrupted after your jab, his cock pulling out almost entirely as your core convulsed with the sudden staggering emptiness it was left to grapple with. More whimpers, struggling against the set of eternally unforgiving ties encasing your body. 

   "But you're making me do all the work, little one" Another slap shook your entire frame as it landed heavily on your still pained cheeks. You were so sore, both from the previous set of hits and from the sheer exhaustion starting to set in, muscles tight and resentful from the awkward positions your body had been manhandled into. "If you really want to continue this, how about you start doing some of the heavy lifting, uh?" Just like before, his palm started massaging the tender spot he had just smacked, fingers digging into your supple flesh being as close to comforting as the Pro seemed capable of. "Show me just how good you can be."

   And you could've argued, truly, could've even attempted to hold onto the last vestiges of your pride…

   You could’ve done a lot of things, but the truth was that when his weapon relented its hold at last, retreating from the underside of your knees and giving in just a smidge for the first time since you had been captured, you didn't waste any seconds before you were chasing after your high with renewed vigor.

   Greedily sinking into him with an obscene sigh, you audibly marveled at the curve of his member being deliciously imprinted in your insides. While you copied the cadence the Hero had previously employed, his grip on your lower belly fluttered, almost like he couldn't decide whether to take control back or allow you to humiliate yourself further with your own zealousness. 

   It seemed like the later prospect won him over in the end though, because he remained almost impassively still as you did all the work needed to bring you both deliriously close to your peaks. 

   The sight must've been spectacular, watching you, renown villain V/N, so thoroughly broken and willing to heed his every command. Impaling yourself on his cock, moaning and continuing to beg him for something you were already taking for yourself. 

   If he died right then and there, he doubted Heaven wouldn't have as much appeal as the scene still unfolding before his eyes. (But again, considering his actions, Heaven wouldn't really be the right place for either of you.)

   You were just about to reach your second orgasm, toes curling inside your shoes, fists clenched and a face that spelt poetic extasis. Angling the way you took his cock, every single movement driving him painstakingly deeper, slamming against a spot that made you imagine the stars falling from the sky all around you, their light being the one bathing you instead of the malfunctioning street lamps. 

   So goddamn close…

   Only to have him pull out again, this time completely. You were clenching against nothing, all stimulation stolen from you, and the bitterness of a ruined orgasm promptly dragged curses and complaints out of you before you could even think to stop them. 

   Eyes searched his, urgently seeking an explanation for his withdrawal only to find his glare fixated instead on that same dirty pair of stockings that had started it all. 

   Eraserhead must have taken the garment out of his pocket sometime while he fucked you, unfolding it from its scrunched up state until the crotch was visibly presented for both of you to admire, dark sheer fabric still stained from a mix of your arousal and spit. 

   When the Pro looked at you again, a beautifully dark smile topped his attractive face. He looked painfully content, the way he studied your own mortified expression reminding you of an artist studying his masterwork. 

   "Only the truly obedient ones get their cunts filled." You noticed then how his other hand was jerking him off again, erection rubbing against the nylon undergarments in a most obscene depiction. Too bad you were too frustrated to appreciate any of it. "I don't think you've… hell, you haven't earned it yet, V/N."

    You didn't even notice you were tearing up from the annoyance until it was too late. And maybe that was what finally did it, seeing you actually crying at his refusal to breed you like the slut you both knew you were, writhing in exaggerated despair as you found yourself feeling jealous of a stupid pair of tights, because not long after your pathetic reaction the man was letting out a pained groan of his own and spilling himself all over the damned garment. 

   But instead of rubbing your wailing in your face after he came down from his own delicious high, last few spurts of cum slowing down to a halt, you were surprised instead by the weapon that had been binding you for the longest time finally retreating.

   As expected, you unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, feet now unprepared for supporting your weight and your entire being wholly exhausted after enduring the roughest fuck you had ever experienced. It hurt all over, although you weren't sure whether your still present longing wasn't what pained you the most. 

   When you looked up to the Pro again, trying to find an answer to the new freedom you were experiencing, you were surprised by having the cum-dripped stockings thrown in your face. 

   And quite literally so, the still wet seed dribbling down your cheek and into your trembling lips, all before you collected enough wits to grab the offending item and pull it down with an expression of unadulterated disgust. 

   "Sorry, doll, but you were pouting so irresistibly," The Eraser user actually laughed, this time the sound coming with an untroubled merriment you did not think he was capable of.

   He actually looked worn out while he tucked himself back into his costume, accommodating the pieces of clothing until all hints from your ravenous affair disappeared. The bandages were wrapping themselves around his neck once more, looking more like an extravagant scarf than the most precise set of inmovilazing gear you had ever endured. 

   However, something about his attitude had you forgetting all about his newest slight, much too worried by a new cause of worry. 

   "Hold on..."

   Eraserhead looked down at you from his place after you raised your voice, urging you to continue as he finished getting himself presentable. The air of nonchalance around him was almost more intimidating than any of the actual threats or vulgar comments he had voiced prior. Almost.

   "Are you…" you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, voice still raspy and hoarse after what had just transpired. "Are you really letting me go?"

   The man just raised one of his eyebrows at that, eyes crinkling for the first time and looking strangely amused. 

   "Doll, I stopped exerting my quirk on you while I was still teasing you good and proper," he declared bluntly. When his orbs glimmered again, you now felt like an imbecile as you finally realized they had completely lost the reddish hue to them. "So you know what? I thought you deserved to get an out of jail free card for behaving yourself… even if you still need to work some more on your manners."

   To call your shocked expression dumbfounded would be a disservice. 

   When his now bottomless eyes bore into yours for one final time, all you could do was stare back in dazzled shock. Your quirk was back, the Pro himself had just confirmed it, and yet you were still nailed to the spot, still anticipating his next words without even thinking of attacking him in the meantime.

   One little tumble and you were already his brightest pupil yet. He was now so glad to have waited that long, it only made the outcome all the more fulfilling. 

   "You don’t need to be so surprised, Y/N, we'll be seeing each other soon,” He kneeled in front of you for an instant, both hands reaching out to hold up your face in a gesture more resembling a lover than… well, whatever the hell you two were. So entranced you were then, that the use of your real name barely even registered. “It’s been difficult to keep you away from trouble thus far,” his acknowledgment reverberated in the alley, its meaning something else lost to you as you couldn’t help but become entranced by the new peculiar softness he addressed you with, “but getting you like this now, seeing you break so easily… fuck, I’ll mold you right back up, doll, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

   And just then, for the first time you realized, the Hero’s lips were brushing against yours gently, uncharacteristically careful as he kissed you slowly. Even his hands were tender while they guided you, treating you as if you truly were a doll that could just be snapped with a mere wrong movement. As if he hadn’t just been treating you like a dirty hole for him to use and abuse just short instants ago. 

   But at least he did not seem to care about the mess that was your face at the moment, about the cum stains or the still damp trails of tears. And, for whatever reason, you found yourself returning the gesture in kind, melting into the oddly affectionate touch of a man you were still halfway sure you loathed. 

   Even after he left you, alone and a mess still toppled over on the floor with the shadow of humiliation cloaking your shoulders, your fingers couldn’t help but touch your lips with a bizarre mixture of bewilderment and horror.

   He told me I would see him soon, your mind supplied as you found yourself irreparably fixating your stare on the pair of now completely ruined tights you were still holding onto. The fact that you felt any type of excitement about the notion did not fail to mortify you. 

   God, even for villain standards you were fucked. 

But it was okay, because misery loved company and, with time at his disposal and the right amount of coaching, Shouta was sure he could teach you to properly crave his soon enough.

— — — 

And, 8k of foul smut later, if y’all read through that whole thing... drop by my ask to recieve your congratulatory gold stars! ⭐ (jk but I do appreciate hearing y’alls thoughts, it’s what keeps me halfway productive 🖤)

Last but not least, very special thanks to my best pals @reinawritesbnha​, @snappysnapo​ and @drxwsyni​ (who actually proof read this and helped me out immensely with her Big Brain Feedback. A TALENTED ANGEL). 

[elia-de-silentio]

Vanitas and affection: a complicated relationship

In light of recent chapters and waiting for the next to deliver our new dose of pain, I've decided to make a bit of analysis on how Vanitas relates to affection.

Vanitas enters this world, and gets the first of a long series of traumas. A classic: mother dies in childbirth, the baby is blamed for existing. Vanitas had internalized this thinking from his father ... or maybe it was a reasoning he made on his own (he says that his father 'must have hated him', but does not recall the man actually telling him so), and his father did not correct him - either because he subconsciously agreed or because he wasn't the most emotionally attuned man in the world.

After all, the only thing certain about Vanitas's father is his tendency to self-sacrifice: he abandoned his birth family and respectable profession to follow the woman he loved in her travelling caravan, even if he didn't like the rest of the people there; he gave up his life to save his son.

And this latter part is what furthers Vanitas's trauma, as he will feel an extra dose of guilt for causing his father's sacrifice.

After the death of his family, he is taken by the Chasseurs to be trained and become one of them. His strong hatred for vampires fueled him, and it's likely he was quite good at fighting, given what we see of him now. But alas, he caught the attention of Moreau.

Vanitas's damnation was his high empathy. As Luna will later point out, he would be able to escape; but Moreau had faked his death by killing a kid that looked like him, thus triggering his trauma of 'other people sacrificing for his sake'.

And then, he thought that even if he escaped, someone else would be tortured in his place. The reasoning is actually more based in self-loathing than reality, as attested by the existence of n.70 and 71; so he turned his reason for being there into trying to get more torture and lift it from the other children whenever he could.

Then he gets saved. Well, he likely doesn't perceive it like that, because Luna is a vampire, especially the Vampire of the Blue Moon whose blood Moreau injected him to try and turn him into a vampire. Nevertheless, there appears to have been a somewhat peaceful period between the escape from Moreau and the start of the series: we see Luna take care of him and Misha, giving them shelter, teaching them about malnomens and trying her hand at life lessons; we see little Vanitas do most of the chores, even if with a standoffish attitude; we see little Misha basking in the happiness of a somewhat stable and nice family situation.

Then something terrible happens.

It is revealed that due to Moreau's experiments, the kids are not exactly human anymore, but they aren't vampires either; their body can't substain this state of being, and they will die if they aren't turned into kins of the Blue Moon. Misha accepts, Vanitas refuses, wanting to stay human. Next thing we know, they are both kins of the Blue Moon with Marks of Possession, and Luna is dead.

As of the time of this writing, it is not clear exactly what happened; we know that Luna died, and that Vanitas played some role in it. Misha outright accuses him of killing her, but the framing of the actual events is quite ambiguous.

Vanitas, on his part, seems to have conflicting feelings: he says he wants to take revenge on Luna for drinking his blood, but when he's half-delirious, he mutters that he didn't really hate her; he appearently made Misha some promise that he didn't keep, and he is crushed by guilt as a result.

But whatever happened, his consent on the kin-making was ignored (just like it always happened in Moreau's laboratory) and another person that was close to him died either at his own hand, or because of him. And he gets some other trauma on top of an already long list.

Moreover, he was surprised to find out that Misha was alive. So, for some time, he believed the person who he loved like a brother was dead. Add good old grief to the mix.

So, we get to the Vanitas of the very first chapters of the manga. An outgoing, cocky individual ... a mask. After all, every time he has shown his actual feelings of anger and grief, it didn't turn out very well for him in the end, did it?

It also allows him to annoy and gross out people, specifically Noé and Jeanne. Nobody really likes his arrogance and pushiness, so they won't give him the affection he doesn't deserve.

Then, the aftermath of the Bal Masqué. Vanitas is provoking Ruthven, and Noé goes unexpectedly to protect him. To take risks for his sake. This already scares him, but then Noé has the gall to go and try to understand him! His reaction has to be more extreme: he flat out tries to attack Noé with a knife and tries to get him away, whereas he had been pretty much stalking him up to this point. But Noé refuses; and Vanitas is maybe just a little comforted and moved, enough to stop trying to push him away.

Then there is the Catacomb Arc, where a new character is introduced: Roland. He doesn't show spite to Vanitas, but still sees him with condescension, denying that he is acting out of his own free will. And this, to the former Chasseur who was left by the rest of them in Moreau's clutches, is untolerable. Roland means well, but he's going at it the wrong way.

After the fight with Roland, there is another argument between Vanitas and Noé. Vanitas does exactly what Noé had done before: shields him. This sends Noé on a sermon about how Vanitas, as a human, is weak and shouldn't take such risks, which infuriates the other boy: he bites back by calling Noé overconfident, citing the Ruthven accident as an example. This confuses Noé, because didn't he want him to become his shield?

I suspect that this was both Vanitas tendency to sacrifice himself for others, and a sign of tentative trust towards Noé. He does the same thing the vampire did for him ... and got rebuked, and called weak for his trouble. Noé's attitude is too patronizing to be seen as an actual sign of concern,and his already bad mood sours considerably.

Well, there is to say that after a similar crisis repeats itself a chapter later, complete with anti-vampire slurs on Vanitas part, Noè amends ... by using him as a fake hostage against Roland, which is still better that treating him as if he was weak.

Now, Noé might be naive in a lot of regards, but he is not stupid. From that moment onwards, he gets that Vanitas will be treated as an equal. He won't force him into dangerous situations, but he won't even treat him like he's too frail for it. He will be incouraging, but not condescending. And the result is that he actually snaps Vanitas out from his trauma-induced flashbacks, and gets him to be more open and trusting than he has ever been.

In the Gevaudan arc, Vanitas's emotional connections get shaken on two fronts: Noé 's and Jeanne's.

In this arc, he is the one to encourage and support Noé. He gives him advice on how to handle Astolfo; he gets worried about him when he's captured by Chloé (even if he expresses it in his own way).

He saves Noé from getting lost into Jean-Jacques's memories, listens to what he has to say, and concedes to what he wants, where at the start of the manga he was all 'my way or the highway'. He even almost (almost) admits that he was worried about Noé!

He still receives some actual support: demostrations of Noé's spirit which are good for the soul, and a proclamation that he believes in what Vanitas thinks about the origin of Malnomen, the first time a vampire says something like that. Vani plays grumpy, but he is obviously very shaken, in a positive way.

He finally shows Jeanne some actual support: he is cold to her after he was unwillingly vulnerable in her presence due to his illness, but pushes that aside rather quickly, in order to help her realize what she truly wants (saving Chloé instead of killing her) and that she's right to want it. He reminds her that she's a person, not a tool.

And she's grateful for it, and has definitely no qualms about expressing it. The result is that our hero spends days in blue screen, to then have a complete freakout at the possibility of being actually in love with Jeanne. He's so out  of it, he ends up oversharing his feelings of being undeserving of love to a Roland who he doesn't like and a Olivier he has never met before. Still, it's the first time he flat-out says his issues.

This brings us to his rooftop conversation with Noé. I really liked the vampire's behaviour here: he was comforting in a sort of roundabout way, à la Vanitas. He said that he is happy Vanitas is the way he is, even if he still doesn't like him very much. Translation: you're a way better person than you think you are, and you deserve to be loved. This is coming from a totally unbiased place, I'm not a weird person who would like you or something.

And this is the last conversation we see between the two of them: as of the time of this writing, Noé has been compelled to drink Misha's blood, and Vanitas has just arrived on the scene.

Vanitas has seen his self-loathing perspective challenged and has changed a lot in the span of a rather short time, and I really don't know how he'll react to Noé learning the details of his past; he sure won't want any form of compassion. Personally, I suspect he'll be very cold to Noé for quite some time, possibly even trying to drive him away, before a reconciliation.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

[brattyfics]

Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone. 

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed. 

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting. 

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck! 

Pride. 

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing. 

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well. 

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him. 

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers. 

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into. 

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear. 

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault. 

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late. 

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help. 

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.” 

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing. 

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass. 

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. 

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” 

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning. 

Tall, fit, well-dressed. 

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” 

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at. 

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking. 

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively. 

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls? 

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.” 

Hmm. A kindred spirit. 

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling? 

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive. 

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow. 

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men. 

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile. 

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously. 

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?” 

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men. 

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears. 

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?” 

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came. 

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve. 

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face. 

Hysterically. 

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him. 

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched. 

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Okay but now I'm really curious what's Kinsley's dynamic with Jason like?

Found family meets forced family — Kinsley meets him and goes "I'm your big sister now, deal with it"

the thing about Kinsley is like... she jokes about having been to therapy but she has and it's made her more well adjusted than honestly any other character in the show. She has 98% of all of their emotional intelligence and she's dealt with her own daddy issues and "my guardian just sees me as a replacement for his former sidekick" issues and her "my worth is determined by how many people I save" issues and basically every other issue that we see the rest of the main characters struggling with

So she meets Jason and she sees how cold Dick is with him and her heart melts. She sees the way he acts cocky to protect himself, recognizes it from when Hank was younger, and how much he actually wants Dick's approval. I don't want to say that she treats him like a kid because that sounds kind of patronizing and condescending, but she's a lot more patient and understanding with him than any of the other adults. And in a lot of ways she doesn't treat him like a kid — she's more open and honest with him than Dick and makes an effort to explain Dick's decisions to him and she tries to push Dick to actually talk to him too.

She also becomes the first Titan that Jason is really comfortable around. Once they move into the tower, he spends a lot of time sitting in the kitchen while she bakes — pulling a bit from other canons, Jason was really close with Alfred and is also a decent cook, so that's one of the few rooms where he really feels comfortable. He's not exactly Mr. "let's sit down and talk about our feelings" but he's starting to trust her and starting to open up more to her.

And Kinsley is fiercely protective of him too. She has a very limited tolerance for Dick being dismissive or Hank being kind of a jerk, and this scene that I wrote is actually Kinsley snapping at everyone in 2x07 when they're all throwing accusations at Jason for things that he didn't do.

so anyways I need to stop because this is getting out of hand but yeah TLDR their dynamic is protective big sister and obnoxious (but secretly soft) little brother!

[lavenderek]

Why were you disappointed by the Howl's Moving Castle movie? I think I read the book years ago, but I don't remember much about it

i'm gonna critique the gibbly movie and it's my understanding that it's a special movie for a lot of people so if that's you feel free to skip this one

so i was delighted and enchanted by the book, which has only twice to date not made the movie a devastating letdown, so my dear friend sending me this book was pretty much signing a contract in her own blood accepting that i would be cranky about the movie. i'm not really a ghibli person either, like i can appreciate the artistry and value in them, and i'll watch it if the people i'm with really need to watch princess mononoke or whatever, but i just don't go out of my way to watch them. (i like reading meta about spirited away, though.)

i did go out of my way to watch this one because i loved the book so much.

it's important to remember the culture in which the movie was made as opposed to the culture in which the book was made. howl is welsh, if that says anything to you. (his name is howell, and he adopted the name howl to run from himself and seem more magical. i love him and movie howl had none of those elements except for when he told us he was a coward and i was like. ok lol, i'll jot that down because i didn't see it in the text)

so i'm not necessarily surprised by the creative changes they made, but i am confused, because those changes drastically affect the characterization, the character motivations, and the pacing of the story.

(i also was only able to get my hands on the dub and i loathe and detest christian bale as howl lmfao but that's subjective)

so first of all, does movie sophie, like, want anything? she's flawless as a character. even though she has a completely different personality as an old lady than she does as a young lady, there's nothing wrong with her. everybody is fond of her, she's shy, she's gentle, she's beautiful, and she's kind, and her only motivation in the whole movie is this vague desire to cure the curse, but even then she doesn't work on it much at all. her life before howl is about being buffeted around like a leaf in the wind, and her life after howl is about being buffeted around like a cow in a twister. sophie in the movie is a blank slate. she is insecure about her looks (seriously, they couldn't even give her like a crooked nose or something, only doll-faced, thin, pale women over here), and her confessing this and crying about it for about four seconds was the first truly deep emotional response i had seen of her. i cried when she cried, who doesn't grapple with feelings of inadequacy? then the kid came out and she was like, okay, i'm done being upset now :)

second of all, howl is a little eccentric, but mostly he's just a glorious gentleman who has a messy room and one (1) overly dramatic depressive episode. it was disturbing to me as a viewer because it was violent and came out of nowhere, and it never comes back again lmao. it was so bizarre, he's introduced as this suave, debonair man in a cape, and he stays that way the entire movie, except for a weird moment in the middle where he screams at sophie naked and then lists the character flaws that we the viewers have never witnessed. why does he like sophie? why does sophie like him?

why did they turn michael into a child? i just don't see what that added to the story lmao. i get them taking out the complexity of secrets involving sophie's decidedly interchangeable sisters and their mystery beaus, it's a lot to fit into a little movie; but like, why did they turn him into a child though lmao

there's a lot of fatphobia in the movie too.

the change that upset me the most, though, was that the element of sophie having the ability to influence things without her knowledge was totally abandoned. like i said, things just sort of happen to her. in the book, her hats are the most lovely because she's inadvertently cast spells on them to make whoever wears them seem alluring or mysterious to people. the witch curses her because she recognizes these little spells and believes sophie's trying and failing to trick her (and also because sophie snaps at her lmao, why is movie sophie only an asshole when she's old? leave my daughter alone).

book sophie unknowingly protects howl by worrying over his cape (which she previously shredded because she got mad at him, i love her), she unknowingly enchants the scarecrow by helping it stand and complimenting it. she does that the entire book. she also starts the book already feeling sort of dull and trapped, and spends the story trying desperately to solve mysteries and protect loved ones. movie sophie doesn't like, sit around and knit demurely, don't get me wrong; but all the major plot points are things that howl makes happen to her lol.

i think the scarecrow is an excellent representation of book sophie's inner struggles. it's something she inadvertently enchanted, and she doesn't understand it, so she runs from it. she's terrified of the thing. in that way it kind of stands in for her own agency: only when she was forcibly in disguise did she feel free to find out what she wants her life to look like, and that kind of power is foreign and frightening to her. i loved that for her.

and very late in the book, howl reveals that he knew all along she was under a spell, that he tried to get rid of it out of curiosity (book howl doesn't seem to notice that he's just as imperious and nosy as sophie is), but she resisted it. he couldn't get the spell off. so he assumed she wanted to stay that way and let her be about it. so basically it's very huck finn on the raft, she realizes that in running to get away, she was already away. she had that agency all along.

all of that was missing from movie sophie. the idea of her inadvertently hanging on to the curse is still there, we see that she sort of fades back to her young self while she's asleep (not the case in the book, we know this because howl doesn't know what she looks like until she turns back in the end); but she doesn't seem to gain any knowledge about herself because of this. the only time she seems to have any personal drive, it's to learn about and help howl. her inner struggles are about howl. and i hated movie howl lmao, i hated his design and i hated his voice and i hated how like, patronizing he was to everyone around him. book howl was a condescending dick at times and just weird and distant at others, but he never came across like he was absolutely positive he was seducing sophie at any given moment. it was clear that he was the star of the movie and sophie was just the audience stand in to be like 🤩🥸🧐

the scarecrow who is a prince was the most hilariously egregious moment in the entire movie. in the book, the missing prince is introduced as a plot in the beginning and is referenced repeatedly throughout. and he's a major player in the climax. in the movie, it's the last like five minutes of the film and the scarecrow turns into a dapper boy with bread for hair and is like, "you've cured me! i'm a prince who went missing from a nearby kingdom and i was cursed but now i'm free." and i was like NICE, so we just found out there's a nearby kingdom that has a prince who's been missing. love that for us

the book had a lot of themes that i don't often encounter in fantasy novels - themes of female agency, of disguise, and of chaos. the chaos is my favorite part, every chapter is equally chaotic at various levels. you'll have michael fretting over some spell, sophie fretting over her own spell, howl trying to get someone in disguise to fall in love with him, THAT someone pining over michael, and all the while sophie and howl are bickering because she is cleaning (it seems like she cleans to clean up her mind) and he doesnt want her to (he is afraid of change and of reality), and he needs a huge favor of her, and she needs to wheedle out of it, and she promised calcifer she would free him, and calcifer is repeatedly promising to die of not being appreciated enough, and everybody is having three arguments at once. it's like that in every chapter, culminating in the moment howl and sophie realize they're in love, and they stand clasping hands and sort of smiling at each other in the middle of a room full of panicking and perplexed people just yelling over each other lmfao. surrounded by chaos and no longer thrown by it, rooted there in the middle of it, stabilizing each other in a way. i loved that. i actually flipped back a few pages so i could read that moment again.

and it seemed to me that the movie tried to imply that with visual chaos, but everything else was really quite linear and simple. everything was very airy. and since the conflama and the general atmosphere and character dynamics of the book is what made me fall in love with it, the movie didn't work for me.

tumblr user door pointed out that the book and the movie are extremely different and she appreciates them both as separate entities, and she's wise and correct; i knew this and i tried so hard to engage with the movie on its own terms. but i couldn't divorce them in my mind. i felt the same way about ella enchanted and practical magic. i cant stop thinking like, i wish they hadn't gotten rid of x, i wish they hadn't added this weird element of y.

also it was boring. i checked to see how much more was left three times. sorry. i can't express enough how little i cared about the plot with the witch and somebody's secretly evil boss and time traveling to yell at howl or something, because i didn't connect with the characters. and the feathers growing out of howl triggered my weird phobia about things being embedded in skin. i'm skeeved just remembering it.

anyway, yeah. the movie was beautifully animated and whatever atmosphere they were going for was pretty consistent throughout. oh and i LOVED calcifer. he was my favorite in both the book and the movie. in fact, he was the only character in the movie who they didn't really change, he was petty and bitchy in both versions. i loved him. he's like, "SHE FED ME SOMETHING YUCKY" my perfect, horrible boy.

oh and. book sophie was a redhead. that's all.

after i finished the book i tried to draw how imagined them:

couldn't finish it though, i wasn't super jazzed about how it was coming out.

she's sitting in like, a window well altering a coat of his without permission. and he's like, i guess i'll have to wear this one instead, and she's like, i guess you will

[hopeshoodie]

I can’t believe it took me until part 8 to do my favorite boy but

 Here are the pros and cons of dating

Noah

 Cons

Noah is really non confrontational, so he tends to let issues fester. It’s not that he’s trying to let things build up, it’s just that he doesn’t think they’re important enough to bring up. He won’t start a fight about them when they’ve built up, but if MC is angry about something he’ll mention that there’s a bunch of things he’s let go but not have specifics. It ends up coming out like ‘yeah well what about all the other things?!’ ‘what other things!?’ ‘I don’t remember!!’. He’s not actively keeping track of all her mistakes, he genuinely does forgive and forget, but then when tensions come to a boil he needs to point out that there has been conflict that he just ignored. He’s not trying to guilt or gaslight MC, but sometimes it feels like it. If she thinks especially little of his intentions, it feels like he’s just pulling things out of thin air to be mad instead of focusing on the issue. That’s not what he’s doing- he just doesn’t address little things until they feel like big things. But of course he hasn’t done the introspection to truly understand how doing this is hurtful or articulate that he doesn’t mean it to be. 

When he and MC disagree, he lets things go wayyy too easily. This is fine if MC is a really mature, self-reflective person who can see that she’s crossed a line after the fact. But if MC is a little more selfish/immature, like Lottie, this is a huge con because he doesn’t give her accountability that would help her grow. We saw this with Hope- she wasn’t able to recognize how harmful her temper was when she was dating Noah because he never pointed it out, he just rolled over. If there’s a genuine problem- financial, emotional, logistically, he’ll ‘let it go’ until it’s a way bigger problem (and much harder to solve). 

Sorry that most of these cons are about how he fights with people, but that’s what we saw in-game lol. I’d love to know more about how Lucas or Rahim fight with their partners. But when you’re arguing, Noah tends to focus on really little details of what you said instead of listening to the whole thing and getting a sense of the bigger picture. So let’s say the issue is ‘Noah, I need you to tell me when you’re borrowing my car because you took it to the gym and then it went from having enough gas to get me to work in the morning to being on empty. This morning I had to stop for gas and that made me late.” The issue there is actually ‘please tell me when you’re using my car”, but he fixates on the gas part and says “well fine I can fill up your tank”. So he focuses on little details that he can fix instead of acknowledging the actual problem.

He internalizes things so fucking hard. Yes he intellectually knows that when MC gives him feedback on things she’s talking about his BEHAVIOR and not him as a person, but he definitely feels like shit about himself if he makes a mistake and MC calls him on it. He’ll definitely beat himself up about things for weeks after it happens, and his internal dialogue in general is pretty toxic. 

I can see him being a bit of a workaholic. Not in the same sense that Camilo is in Boat Party, but Noah definitely will go into the library on a day he’s scheduled to be off if he has projects to work on or will stay late because he got engrossed in research. Same thing now that the library’s closed because of COVID- it takes him two times as long to put everyone online and work from home, so he’s spending more time working than ever. He views it through the lens of the ‘greater good’- getting that display set up for the patrons is more important that seeing his wife two hours earlier because many members of the community outnumber one person. Plus he just cares so much about his work that he has a hard time seeing it as an inconvenience to other people.

He loves his family so much. Even when MC and he get married and have kids, he struggles to prioritize them over his siblings and parents. So if his little brother Arlo needs money, Noah won’t hesitate to give him a loan even if he and MC are struggling financially. If his aging mom or dad can’t live alone anymore, Noah will invite them to move in with his family, even if their house isn’t big enough to accommodate more people. I can see this being a huge point of contention, especially in that second scenario where MC would have to take on a caretaker role as well. Noah just wants to help people so bad and has a hard time saying no, so that can sometimes impede his partner.

He’s really used to living on low income, and so he has a lot of frugal habits and concessions that he thinks are normal that someone more middle or upper class might find irritating. These are all coming from my experience and things partners have complained about- but think things like only eating out once a month or refusing to turn the heat on until it’s dangerous or making his own laundry detergent. He grew up doing them out of necessity (and still does, student debt on a public librarian’s budget? I couldn’t do it), so he doesn’t realize how strange or frustrating his habits might be to someone who isn’t used to it. He also has a really hard time justifying spending excessive amounts of money, so if MC has lavish taste there’s going to be some conflict.

He doesn’t like initiating anything. Conversations, activities… you know *smirk emoji*. He will, but the ratio of when Noah suggests something to when MC does is like 1:8

My boy is beautiful, and his clothes look lovely, but he has 7 outfits that he rewears all the time. The closest thing to fashion is him putting a different button up shirt underneath his vest. It’s definitely a joke at work that he wears the same sweater, button up, and quarter length shirt just in different colors. You know that vine where the teacher walks into the room wearing the same shirt in different colors, saying the same ‘hello’ for like a million days. Noah’s coworkers remake that with him, because that’s exactly what he does. 

He’s a bit of a homebody, and loves routine. For me, massive plus, I love that. But for someone who wants to party regularly or be spontaneous, I can see constantly changing plans and going out with people being really draining to Noah. He has a small group of close friends, so he’d struggle to remember MC’s friends' names if she has more than five. Don’t get me wrong, Noah will take MC to galleries and dates at least three times a month, but it has to be discussed and scheduled in advance. 

Pros

Honestly, what isn’t a pro about him? Noah is a steadfast, thoughtful, and kind person. His politics are about taking care of people, providing them dignity and respect, and building community. He loves his family and is incredibly patient. He’s incredibly smart but not at all classist or condescending about it. I know this is supposed to be about how the islanders affect the person they’re dating, but oh my god he’s such a good person I love him. Let’s just say the pro for this is his positive aura. 

He’s really good at group dynamics and listening, so he goes out of his way to make everyone feel heard and valued. If someone says something and no one acknowledges it, he’ll specifically engage with them so they’re not left hanging. If someone’s trying to get a word in but can’t, he’ll get everyone’s attention then say ‘so and so had an idea’. He’s not one to boisterously laugh in group settings, but he always makes eye contact and smiles if you make a joke that flops or say something he agrees with. If people are teasing about something, he picks up if it’s gone too far really easily and will gracefully change the subject/tell them to knock it off. 

He’s super conscientious about respecting boundaries and ensuring the people around him are taking care of himself. If MC and him are long distance and texting after 10pm, he’ll be like ��I love you, but we’ve both got to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow”. He’ll always check and make sure people have eaten when meeting up with them, and if they haven’t he’ll insist they get food from somewhere. 100% gives you his jacket, brings you water bottles, in general just wants you to take care of yourself. 

Above all else, Noah just always ensures the people around him feel safe. The last thing he’d want to do is make people uncomfortable, so safe driving, safe spaces, safe sex are all musts. He’s really good in crisis situations because he can calm people down and encourage them to think critically.  

Building off of that, he’s really aware of how much of the housework is being done by who and always tries to ensure he’s doing his part. I bet that was a big thing he ripped on Rahim for- Rahim expects his woman to clean up after him and do the bulk of the domestic work, and Noah knows that’s bullshit. I think Noah likes cleaning, anyways, and will usually take laundry/disinfecting bathrooms/cleaning dishes over cooking or running errands. But the mental load of keeping track of recipes/groceries that need replenishing and keeping up with kids needs, he’s aware of the imbalance and does his part. Obvious plus, because it sounds fucking exhausting to date a man. He fucking hates vaccuming though, and will splurge on a roomba. 

He has a dry sense of humor that’s very based in puns and hyperbole. Sometimes it’s hard to know when he’s joking or not, but he never makes you feel bad for missing a joke or dwells on something for too long. He absolutely subscribes to the Mcelroys’ No Bummers rule, there are some things you don’t joke about and he’s happy to shut down inappropriate comments or ‘jokes’. He definitely prefers physical gaffs and dumb ways of saying things, so his favorite comedians are John Mulaney and Chris Fleming. While humor isn’t an important part of how he relates to other people, Noah enjoys being around funny people and won’t shut down their energy like Rahim, Marisol, or Hope. 

This is just me projecting again but Noah is generoussss. Even though he doesn’t make a lot of money at the library, he still has a ‘mutual aid’ budget each month (and goes over it often). He’s the first one to give money to panhandlers, donate to gofundmes, and give friends/family personal loans. That definitely gets him into sticky situations sometimes, because he has a hard time saying no and can get taken advantage of, but ultimately I think it’s a pro because he’ll never forget where he came from and always prioritize helping other people. 

He has a really pretty, deep singing voice and this is a pro to me because fuck I meltttttt.

The shit he says to his partner or spouse? THE most romantic thing in the world. You think Mr. “you’re made of stardust” doesn’t shower his lover with the most meaningful lines at random times? You think he’s not quoting sappho and jane austen when he’s at a loss for words? You think he’s NOT going to turn over in bed on a lazy Saturday and say ‘this is the most perfect my life will ever be’? It’s not even prompted either, yes he’ll compliment Bobby or MC when they get all dressed up for date night, but more often he’ll profess his adoration in the middle of dinner, then take another forkful of food. 

Fantastic with kids, and this is a huge pro because people who can work with kids and be patient/positive with them make me so fuckim soft. But if/when (hopefully when because if MC didn’t want kids I don’t think it’d last) they had kids, Noah is happy to be on bottle duty, wake up early to the baby, and generally be a really involved parent. He’ll take a big chunk of paternity leave, and generally be there as much as humanly possible. Even when they have multiple little tyrants running around, he always makes time to be alone with MC and make sure she’s not taking on too much.

He’s basically a lesbian, which is definitely a reason I love him so much. Hear me out- loves milfs, loves 80s music, communicates affection through meaningful glances and playing with hair but will die before explicitly saying any of it, crushes on his best friend for the longest time but never makes the first move, puts way too much emotional meaning and personal metaphors into objects and then presents them as gifts, is into fandoms and actively collects pop figures, is attracted to assertive/powerful women, wears beige skinny jeans, wears VESTS….. That’s a lesbian. He’s a bisexual man, but he’s also an honorary lesbian.

A really good confidant. Noah’s an amazing listener and never judges people harshly- his life philosophy is as long as you’re not hurting anymore or yourself, everything else is details. So you can definitely tell him secrets and confess regrets to him and he’ll listen with those soft eyes and gentle nods. Talking to him about mistakes always feels like unburdening yourself. And he’d never tell your secret to anyone. Doesn’t matter if you cheat on him, lie to him, or die, he’s never going to tell anyone your secrets. 

[shift-shaping]

41 and 43 for the ask meme?

lol i decided to do all of them instead

re: the lioness and the wolf

under cut

50 Questions to ask about your romance

Why do they care about each other? They begin with mutual admiration, then trust, then a sort of faith in each other's abilities that quickly turns allies into friends and finally lovers. She is disarming and clever and brave and (despite her own opinion of herself) very wise. He is compassionate and intelligent and world-weary, with a weight of guilt about him that Eirwen recognizes in herself.

Why should your reader care about them? They have a mature, reasonable, yet still complex relationship built on mutual respect and admiration and also have very good sex.

How do their friends feel about their relationship? Adaar, Dagna, and Cole (probably the people closest to them in Skyhold) are all supportive. Adaar is very happy for them and Cole likes how happy they make each other.

How do their families feel? Morrigan is the closest thing Eir has to family and she is not a fan of Solas. She didn't like Alistair either, though. I honestly don't know that she'd like any romance option for Eir because she is the sibling that immediately dislikes any of her sister's dates because 'men are stupid' and so is any woman Eirwen would be interesting in. If Eirwen's parents were alive they would definitely think Solas is too old for her (correct!) but otherwise find him neat.

What do they dislike about each other? Solas is absolutely baffled by how often Eirwen puts herself in serious danger and generally acts with little regard for her wellbeing. 'You throw yourself into battle like it's a duty', or something. She is frustrated by his tendency to be patronizing and to pick fights with Morrigan.

What do they argue about? Wardens, Solas being racist/out of touch/condescending, Eirwen making bad life decisions

What do they do together? Talk and talk and talk and wander around and drink wine and talk some more and light something on fire.

How often do they have sex? As often as Solas can handle because Wardens Fuck.

What is their sexual dynamic? Both are switches, but Solas leans more dominant and Eir is very happy either way.

Who initiates sex most often? Eirwen.

How physically affectionate are they? Very, though more in the sense of holding hands for a quick moment, standing close to each other, gossiping in the back of the party, etc. as opposed to literally hanging off each other all the time.

How do they act in public Vs in private? In public they are fairly mature and restrained. In private it does not take long for sex to start happening only to get interrupted by more talking.

What is their favourite kind of kiss? Solas loves kissing her hairline/forehead and she loves kissing his cheek. Both find each other's preferred kiss silly but love it anyway.

Who gets their way most often? It would probably seem like Solas does but Eirwen is just not that opinionated and usually gives up on arguments pretty quickly. When she does want something, she always gets it.

Where was their first date? Fighting a dragon in the Dirth Getting sad in the garden Getting trapped in the Fade Being petty in Halamshiral I'm not actually sure lol

How often do they go on dates? They go places and do dumb shit together often but I think their dreams are more like dates. So, very often.

Do they live together? Sort of. He spends a lot of time in her room because as far as I can fucking tell Solas does not actually have quarters in Skyhold and just sleeps on that ratty old couch like a loser. She has a bed, at least.

How long was their flirting phase? Several months, thereabouts.

How do they sleep when they're together? She CLINGS in their sleep and just puts most of her weight on him. He is so touch-starved that he usually just lets her unless she's cutting off his circulation.

Who is the most clingy? Physically, Eirwen. Emotionally, Solas.

Do they steal each others clothes? Not really, but I could see them doing it. If she had a particularly nice hat or something that she wasn't using I could see him taking it if he needed extra warmth. She'd definitely put on his shirt or something just to turn him on (which would work, because he's a pervert).

What petty opinions do they not agree on? Solas wants like six tablespoons of sugar in his coffee as well as creamer and Eirwen thinks it's fucking disgusting even though she has a sweet tooth, too. He also definitely likes red velvet cake and she thinks it's dumb. They agree that cream cheese frosting is incredible. Solas isn't into the concept of keeping an animal as a pet (he likes animals, just not pets) but Eirwen would definitely keep a shit ton of rescue critters if she could. She LOVES birds and would never remove a nest no matter how inconvenient, but the second one shits on his head he'd move it himself.

Why did they choose each other? Mutual respect, admiration, and intense physical attraction. She loves his arms and he loves her... everything (but definitely her breasts and butt, although he would never say that to anyone except her). Like if he were at the Hanged Man and Varric or Bull tried to push him on talking about sex with her he would not elaborate beyond it being good and happening often, and even that would be cloaked in implication. Even with a decent amount of alcohol he wouldn't say more than that she's beautiful. She, meanwhile, would immediately tell Sera he has a huge dick and is extremely good at oral, which would probably make Sera physically ill.

What is their biggest problem? She's dying and he's himself.

How do their jobs/education affect their relationship? lol. This would take a really long time to answer in full but it's hopefully clear in the story. He thinks it sucks that she's a Warden and that she had to go through the abuse of the Circle but knows she'd be a very different person otherwise. She's doing her best to parse through him being Fen'Harel because her frame of reference for elven culture is minimal. As members of the Inquisition, it brought them together and means she has her own quarters for them to bone in.

Do they share the same music taste? They would both definitely love a good fiddle.

Why did they meet? She was dying (a theme) and he rescued her and healed her. Interestingly, this was almost immediately after Wisdom died.

If they aren't together yet, why not?

What if the biggest challenge they have to overcome? Spoilers spoilers lol.

What is their most noticeable physical difference? She's very dark-skinned and he's fairly pale. Also, she has lots of lovely hair and he has none lol.

What are their opinions on marriage? Eirwen thinks it's dumb and Solas is indifferent because I imagine marriage was probably weird in elvhenan. But they'd do something informal to express their intentions of being together for a very long time. And Eirwen would be into the tax benefits.

What are their opinions on children? Neither of them has any interest in children of their own but they're both neutral on kids as a concept. I think Eirwen probably sees them more as tiny adults, though.

Is their relationship healthy? Why/why not? Yes. They are open with each other and clear about their wants/needs, or at least as much as possible given plot circumstances.

How do their past relationships affect them? I get the sense that Solas has a probably-unhealthy tendency to (lowkey?) worship those he loves. He probably had very few serious relationships, but I imagine each was monumental for him at the time. He feels very deeply and passionately and any losses he's been through make him want to protect her, which he cannot do. She is constantly reminded of Alistair, of how deeply she loved him and how thoroughly she believes she failed him. She tried for a long time not to get seriously attached to anyone else as a result. With Solas, she is trying to let go of that tendency to keep everyone at a distance.

Do they love each other, or are they in love? Both. He loved her before he was in love with her, but I think both happened for her at the same time.

Why should your readers root for them? They are essentially good people trying their best.

Do they both put an equal amount of effort into the relationship? I think Solas puts in a little more. He worships her, to some extent.

Who do they turn to when their relationship has problems? Themselves. They talk to each other unless it's something REALLY wild and plot-related that requires some inner calculations first.

Who does the most mundane household tasks? Solas in the evening, Eirwen in the morning.

What do they do when the other is mad? Eirwen uses humor to distract him, and if that doesn't work just lets him rant until he tires himself out. She doesn't get angry very often, so I don't know if Solas would have an immediate solution or reaction to her anger, which would lead him to be overly-logical and probably piss her off more. Then he'd feel really fucking bad and let her get it all out before doing whatever he could to make things better. Alternatively, they'd agree on whatever is pissing them off and just rant together and get all shitty until nobody else can stand to be around them. Then they'd fuck.

How do their flaws clash? She's too reckless for him and though he believes she'll be okay there's still a voice in his head that's like 'but what if she's not?' She thinks he's overreacting.

Why do you enjoy writing them? They both have such rich personal histories with fun parallels. They are equals, despite him being who he is, and see each other as such. She asserts her position as his equal in power and intelligence and refuses to let him doubt her capabilities, even in the interest of her own protection. Her wit and confidence ground him. They both need certainty and reassurance that they are more than what others see them as. They make each other feel whole.

What small quirks do they like about each other? From early on she's admired how gentle he can be with his hands even when he's upset. He loves how easily distracted she is by birds and flowers and miscellaneous wildlife and finds her infodumps about various critters extremely endearing.

What would a stranger think if they saw them out together? "Fucking apostates." Or, alternatively: "...Is that the Hero of Ferelden?"

How do they show the other that they love them? Physical affection and 'acts of service' or whatever. Doing little favors for each other and noticing the other's needs before they voice them.

What made them fall in love? Eirwen first felt a hint of something for him when she saw him helping the Vilbirn survivors. He first felt something when she turned into a fucking dragon. Over time, though, it was the slow realization that the other person genuinely cared for them and respected their abilities and experiences that made them truly fall in love.

Have they ever took a break?

What was their biggest fight about? ~*Wardens*~

What do they give as gifts? Food, because they both forget to eat. But also little love notes.

He is well-aware of their animal symbolism and kind of loves it. Like, he would call their story 'the lioness and the wolf' because he's a dramatic moron.

Sera: So, you and droopy?

Eir: Droopy? Hardly.

Sera: What --EWW hahahaha!

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2 Re-Write

Basically this story with a little bit of extra angst injected in

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He's only just starting to feel okay about casual physical affection from his new family. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out how to stand, or what he should be doing with his hands. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, not that one corner of the large room is really any better than any other.
 The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them, and sets Jason’s heart racing at a panicked pace.
 He freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking too.
 “Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s little rat-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?!”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to, and Jason’s had enough experiences being surrounded to know that it never leads to anything good. At the moment he’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the terrified impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Every muscle in his body that wasn't already tense tightens up, and heat flares at the back of his neck. He doesn't want to be in trouble. He doesn't even really know what being in trouble means in this new life yet, and he's been hoping to put off finding out as long as possible.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle, and just feels the warm shame that he wishes it didn’t ignite in him.

Bruce reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

"You will never put your hands on my child again.”

Jason's not sure what he had been expecting Bruce to say, but that wasn't it, and hearing it gives him whiplash, makes his heart that had already been beating in his throat stutter to a halt.

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?” Bruce's voice is deceptively calm.

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Jason wants to say that it doesn't matter, that it isn't a big deal, because really it shouldn't be. He shouldn't be afraid to be touched; it's just one more thing about him that so glaringly doesn't belong. But he's still not sure whether or not he's in trouble, and if he is then he's learned from experience that it's better to keep his mouth shut.

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” One of the few onlookers who isn’t pretending not to be paying attention pipes in.
 Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man who had spoken, and the woman.

“So you did touch him?”

“This is ridiculous!”

It's somehow the worst thing she could have possibly said. Jason already knows he's ridiculous. He can feel it with every fiber of his being, and the confirmation that everyone else can apparently see it too sparks a stinging sensation at the back of his throat.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks, and Jason flinches slightly at his words.

Bruce looks over the remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman had been standing, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are at least a little easier to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason, who forces himself to keep his eyes open and his gaze up.

He's getting ready to apologize. He hadn't wanted to embarrass Bruce, or to get him in trouble with whoever the hell those people had been- with his luck probably someone important. He doesn't want to be in trouble either, but he recognizes that that ship has probably sailed already. He just wishes he knew what kind of punishment to expect; he hasn't been here that long, and adult behavior is hard to predict.

“Are you okay?”

Jason blinks, and apparently it takes him longer than he thinks to process and respond to the question, because Bruce asks it again.

This time he nods, figuring it’d be pretty stupid for him not to be okay.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bruce asks.

Jason knows that it's not really a question; he's already done enough damage for the night after all. He nods his head. He’s not totally sure how to get back to the manor from here- he still doesn’t know this part of town very well- but he’s sure he’ll be able to figure it out before Bruce wraps up here.

“Let’s get our coats.”

Jason looks up in surprise, but Bruce is already walking away.

Right. He guesses it makes more sense that they’d be leaving together. He's noticed that rich families like to keep any shows of conflict private. One of the consequences of which being that he still doesn’t know how the hell these people discipline their children.

He nods again, cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

-

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

Bruce observes Jason’s defensive body language as they slide into the backseat.

“Are you sure you’re okay, lad?” He asks slowly.

He receives a tight nod in reply, and sighs.

“Do you want to help me get a better picture of what happened in there?”

Because what he’s looking at isn’t okay. He’s seen his witty, outgoing child shut down like this before, and it usually means he’s scared. Bruce needs to know if he was spooked by something innocuous, or if he’s going to need to hurt someone.

Jason turns from being seemingly caught off guard by the question, to apparently desperate to answer it in the span of a second.

“I swear I didn’t hit her! It was just that she-“ He shakes his head, apparently deciding against whatever he’d been about to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? You’re not in trouble, Jason, not unless I’m really missing something here.”

That earns him a long suspicious look.

“I don’t like to be touched,” Jason grumbles after a minute.

“And people shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you.”

He learned pretty quickly when he first became a parent not to assume that adults would always respect children’s boundaries. And he knows that Jason has been hurt. He’s not sure exactly how, or by who, but the signs are all there. And he shouldn’t have to deal with being forcibly reminded of that by the carelessness of others; he’s a kid for god’s sake!

“Is that all-“ He stops himself from finishing the question. “People shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you,” he reiterates. “Can you tell me if anything else happened? If anyone hurt you, or threatened you?”

Jason starts to shake his head, but stops with his neck angled slightly toward Bruce.

“I thought she was gonna hit me,” he admits.

Bruce’s body tenses up. He had noticed that himself when he’d first entered the scene, and what he had read in her body language had made him see red.

“And then there were so many other people,” Jason continues. “And they were talking, and staring at me. It had me feeling kind of boxed in.”

“I’m so sorry, son.”

Jason looks a little startled up at him.

“Just to be clear,” he says slowly. “I’m not in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Bruce confirms. “I promise I will always do whatever I can to protect you from people like that.”

[bigskydreaming]

destefaniart said: Or, another thing that should be explored, the court of owls is made of gotham’s elite, so they have probably en wayne’s galas, imagine they all just looking at “the Grayson” like a price or something, it really makes me feel anxious, but its probably what happened there in my opinion (?)

Exactly, yeah. I headcanon that’s absolutely something that happened, and absolutely something Dick thought about a LOT once he learned about the Court and their view of him....like, how could he not look back at all the events he’d been dragged to as a kid, and that he had to suffer through with a smile even while people looked down their noses at him? Now knowing that some of those people hadn’t just been condescending to him because of where he came from, but because they literally felt that he’d been meant from birth to serve them?

I mean, that idea is revolting enough on its own, but how much worse must it be for a guy who’s so fiercely independent....this is the source of a lot of the conflict between himself and the people who actually love him. That so few people in his life seem to really understand his need to be the only person to define himself and who and what he is and what he stands for and devotes himself to.

Its why I’ve always felt the Court is such a perfect antagonist for him, specifically. And in a lot of ways are the embodiment of not just upper class entitlement, but the entitlement we often talk about other characters having towards Dick and how they view him, as though his only real purpose is to be what they want and need him to be.

But also, angst aside.....think about how much potential there is in this, to give his family a way to show up for him, beyond just the usual Tarantula/Mirage storylines. Having them figure out (they ARE detectives, after all) just WHY it is that Dick’s always so reluctant to attend galas and similar events in Gotham these days, why he’s so unenthusiastic about it or seems more forced/performing than usual. Connecting the dots and realizing his sentiments towards such events really only took such a drastic nosedive after their first encounters with the Court, and from there figuring out why these events would skeeve Dick out so much knowing what he knows now (what they all know now). 

Like, its the difference between having the other characters just notice something is bothering Dick, and wondering WHAT is bothering him, and trying to figure it out themselves, prioritizing him, so that they’re not just waiting for him to come to them with what’s weighing him down....since they all know he’s never going to do that except as a last resort.

And from there its just so easy to have the rest of his family like just....be there for him, in this regard, during these events. Run interference whenever they don’t like the way someone at one of these parties is eyeing him, taking note of when other attendees act particularly dismissive or patronizing of him, or like they know something he doesn’t. 

Hell, its not like any story about this needs to drown in angst either - have the family make a fucking game out of it. Body-checking rich snobs in tuxedos and ballgowns when they’re making Dick uncomfortable. Coming up with arbitrary points systems and rankings for who can get rid of the asshole bothering Dick without making a public scene of it, or at least not one that can be traced back or blamed on them. Cass trips and falls into a guy just the very second Tim stoops behind him to tie his shoe, oh no. Nobody present has ever seen Cassandra Wayne so much as stumble before or since, but try pinning intent on her. Bruce has to establish some ground rules after Damian starts to get a little too creative with cutlery. Duke, Steph and Jason are conspiring over in a corner and the latter two are wearing waiter uniforms and absolutely evil smirks of mischief and mayhem and also delight.

Opportunities and options abound.

[realchemistry]

Jamie Johnson BAFTA Q&A Full transcript

14:02:35 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Good evening, everyone and welcome to this special BAFTA event as part of Pride Month. I'm Alex Kay-Jelski. I'm the editor in chief of the athletic and I'm going to be moderating a discussion of Jamie Johnson, Tackling Issues Head On.

14:03:09 I'm sure you have seen the incredible episodes that have been airing recently and before we have a great discussion with your panelists. I have bits of housekeeping. Live captioning is available if needed on this, click the option at the bottom of your Zoom panel. Also, we will be taking questions later, because we want to answer your big queries, but to do that, use the Q&A button at the bottom. We will not see you on the chat function.

14:03:44 I will give you a five minute warning to get the questions in and we will get in as many as we can in the next hour. So here we are, Jamie Johnson, what an incredible, incredible few episodes as we saw Dillon comes to terms or start to terms with his sexuality and being gay and coming out in a time of him being a starring footballer and how difficult that was for hill.

14:04:17 I think in a world where a lot of people feel comfortable going to football grounds, not like anyone is allowed at football grounds right now, unfortunately. With people coming to terms with who they are, trying to speak to their family about it, trying to speak to their friends about it. Really moving, fantastic drama.

14:04:39 We're going to talk to the key people and try to explain why it is so important and what effect it had and will continue to have. So I will stop prattling on because you are probably bored of hearing from me because there are far more interesting people to hear from.

14:04:58 We have Shaun Duggan the lead writer on Jamie Johnson. He has been BAFTA nominated alongside of Jimmy from the accused and he is famous for righting the lesbian kiss in brook side. I'm old enough to remember that.

14:05:33 Next, we have actors Laquarn Lewis and Patrick Ward, so hello to you two. We have Cheryl Taylor. Cheryl is the head of content of BBC Children and she commissioned Jamie Johnson and all of the BBC content, that is hard to say when you say it quickly for television and online.

14:06:03 For now, we have Hugo Scheckter who is the head of Player Care of West Ham United. Later, we have an extra because we're going to be joined by the executive producer Anita Burgess who produces Jamie Johnson for BBC. Lots of people with lots of things to say. We should get started, shouldn't we?

14:06:32 I'm going to talk to Shaun first, because I think you're the best persons to answer this question. Jamie Johnson has always been a huge success, we're in series five now, great ratings, lots of interest, telling really, really important stories that reflect sort of the lives of children and teenagers. Why do you think the show has been so popular and why does it engage this audience so well?

14:07:07 >> Shaun Duggan: I think for what you have said and from the outset, we wanted to tell a show that felt very real and reflect the lives of our young audience and not patronize or condescend them. My background is working on soap operas and other stuff and this was rarely the first big show I worked on in children's drama.

14:07:40 I have to say, I didn't approach it any differently. I approached it in the same way as I would an adult drama. Obviously, there are things you have to be careful of in terms of language, but in terms of thinking of challenge in story, thinking about what reflects the young audience as lives, what is important to them and just in terms and I'm sure we'll talk more later about how the whole Dillon story came about.

14:08:08 If I could say from a personal experience, when I was younger, I could I've with the show because I'm football mad, working-class background, I remember my dad carrying me over the turnstiles and slipping the man some cash and all I wanted to do was play football in the street and that is why I was obsessed with going to every game I could.

14:08:39 Then I got to about 11 and things changed because suddenly all I play football with didn't want to be my friend anymore and people started saying I was gay, queer, in the 80'S, I did not know what these things were. It I just knew I was something bad and something to be ashamed of and things got worse where I was not welcome to play football anymore.

14:09:14 People turned their backs on me and all through senior school, for me personally, I had a hellish experience. I left school without any qualifications and not just talking verbal bullying, I'm talking getting beaten up most days, so school became about survival. I couldn't turn to the teachers. You were not allowed to talk about gay issue, I couldn't go  home and tell my own family.

14:10:04 They were homophobic, not homophobic in a bad way, but we didn't know and I know firsthand how isolating and lonely, you know that is to be a young, gay person. I know things have changed to a degree, but in terms of education these things aren't talked enough within school, so to get this opportunity to tell a story like this in children's drama, I have to say a massive thank you to Cheryl and everyone at CBBC. If they don't support it and go along with it, then it wouldn't happen.

14:10:31 I have to say I found it very emotional seeing these stories going out on screen last week, not only that but everything around it, the support on news, the presenters after they talked to the audience and it is OK to be yourself and it made me proud to be a part of it and how far we have come.

14:10:46 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Do you think producing a show like this plays a role a little bit, a small role in helping the next generation of kids who are growing up, teenagers who are coming to terms with who they are, they don't have to go through what you have gone through.

14:11:24 >> Shaun Duggan: Absolutely, it is all cliche really, but if people say, if we telling this story, we can help one person not to feel -- let them know they are not on their own it is really worth doing. You mentioned at the intro, I did the lesbian kiss, which is almost 30 years ago now, but to this day, people who are in their 50s or whatever will approach me and when I meet them and you can tell people are in isolated communities with a traditional family.

14:11:34 The impact of seeing that story line on screen and making it feel less alone and that is so powerful.

14:11:54 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Cheryl, does the BBC have a role to play in that sense in trying to reassure people like this program does and let them know they are not alone? How important is it when you're choosing which programs to put on air does that come into play?

14:12:31 >> Cheryl Taylor: Thanks, Alex. It is really important to us.  Obviously, as a public service board, we are there to inform and to entertain and I think we want the children who are watching our shows to feel good about themselves and feel informed. I think it is key. It sets us apart from other broadcasters and listening to Shaun there, such a powerful story that he has told, not just on Jamie Johnson, but to us here this evening.

14:13:02 I think, I don't know how old Shaun is, but he looks younger than someone who wrote brookside 30 years ago. When I was the age of Patrick and Laquarn, I would not have had any role models and it is fantastic that people are able to write these important stories and we very much want to reflect them.

14:13:31 I have to point out it takes a special kind of writer and special performer to achieve what Jamie Johnson has achieved and the whole production team as well. A lot of people have talked about authenticity at the moment and to hear Shaun talk about the story that has woven into a football series.

14:14:06 Jamie Johnson has been around for a long time and to artfully weave that story, in a sense, I don't think any of the fans or viewers would have felt in a sense they were being preached at or lectured, which I think is amazing. I think Patrick has taken us through Dillon's journey in a way that Shaun has given us the story, a coming of age story, someone finding his identity and that is something all kids will be going through. They will all be looking for signals and for help.

14:14:42 It is hard being a kid and hard growing up, so you know, absolutely, I think the BBC is the platform for this type of story, but fair play to these guys. They told it beautifully. I was seeing the comments on Patrick and Laquarn's Insta and there are people saying this is amazing and this is great to seeing this happen. People have written, what an amazing episode of Jamie Johnson. It is such a valuable series.

14:14:49 I'm grateful to Shaun and all of the team for telling the story so beautifully.

14:15:12 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Shaun, how do you write for a teenage and child audience? How do you get insides of the heads of teenagers and people of that age and make it relevant to them? As been mentioned in this call already, you are not a teenager anymore.

14:15:44 >> Shaun Duggan: No, but I thank Cheryl for the comments they am older than you might realize. I have lots of nieces, nephew, firstly, we have all been teenagers so I have been there. But I have nieces and nephews and so many of my friends' children love Jamie Johnson. In the past, for example, I tried to incorporate stories being relevant.

14:15:58 We had Dillon being diabetic in an earlier series because my friend's daughter was diagnosed with type I diabetes and that is where the idea came from, so you draw from all of those experiences.

14:16:10 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Patrick, do you remember the day they came to you with the idea of this story line and how did that feel? It is quite a responsibility, I guess.

14:16:41 >> Patrick Ward: Sure, I do remember the day, actually, before every series, I would meet with Shaun and Anita and talk about the next year and this idea was brought forward. To be honest, while a lot of people may see it as being a surprise, when you look back over Dillon's journey, it made a lot of sense and as playing Dillon, it felt organic and needed in society as well.

14:16:56 Yeah, definitely, I think that is really important as well, I have younger brothers and sisters who fancy the star and to see their response and other people, it has been brilliant.

14:17:20 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: How many barriers do you think there are to breakdown? For example, hopefully, this makes a lot of people feel more comfortable and better about themselves, but realistically, when you went and told your friends about this twist in Dillon's character, were you nervous about the response that you would get? Has that been positive?

14:17:42 >> Patrick Ward: I suppose you are nervous, for me especially with negative feedback, it is more kind of, like what Shaun was talk about earlier, it shows that it is perform that we're doing this story line. When you see negative feedback, which is not a lot of it to be fair, most of it is positive, but I think it is important.

14:18:03 People around me responded very well and my family was very supportive and is very forward thinking. I was proud to be doing it and I didn't care what other people had to say about it negative thinking, because I'm honored to be a part of it.

14:18:13 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Laquarn, how did you feel that? Do you think Jamie Johnson has a unique way of telling a story like this?

14:18:45 >> Laquarn Lewis: Yeah, I think it is unique in terms of the way he told the story, because any story can educate people on coming out and finding your own sexuality, but Jamie Johnson has done this through an industry which seems to be gay in football, especially and they tackled this on one of their main characters and followed the journey of his homophobic past with himself, his younger brother and dad.

14:19:16 He was only sharing the homophobic because that is what he was used to around his family and maybe his football team, you know, so the fact he had to hold it in for so long and hide who he is because of his passion for football. Jamie Johnson told an amazing story and did an amazing job of getting it across and you can be who you want to be no matter what your dreams are.

14:19:49 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: I think it is great that he was not playing into people's stereotypes as well. Some people like to think what they know what a gay person looks like, talks like, walks like, right, Dillon did not fit the stereotypes. Hugo, I don't know if you had the same thing, but when I came out, a lot of people were like, oh, we didn't see that coming necessarily, which is fine but you wish they had known it was coming because it was less of a surprise.

14:20:06 I think the fact that Dillon was not what some people would expect is a great thing for the audience because it makes them think about their own assumptions and prejudices, if you don't mind.

14:20:31 >> Shaun Duggan: I hope you don't mind me jumping, in but it made the story more interesting. The audience had these expectations of Dillon that someone like him wouldn't be gay, so therefore, that makes it more challenging.

14:20:48 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Yeah, absolutely. Did you, Patrick, Laquarn get involved in the story line or were you good boys and did what you were told?

14:21:07 >> Patrick Ward: Well, we rehearsed beforehand, actually in this house, in the next room. Laquarn came with someone we have known for a long time and rehearsed this kind of thing. I think it is very important as well.

14:21:42 >> Laquarn Lewis: He made us do games where we had to get to know each other really well before we shoot the scenes, so the story that we were telling was truthful. We had to do this one task and we had to look at each other and we couldn't smile and we had to keep pushing each other. He did so many games to get us on to a level where our relationship outside of acting could really like grow for our onset acting and I think that helped a lot.

14:22:10 >> Patrick Ward: I was going to say it is interesting because if you look at Dillon when he meets Elliot, it is like when he first sees him. It is like there is something that goes on insides of his brain. He doesn't understand what it is, but there is something and it is new and it happens very quickly, so I think it is important that me and Laquarn were able to understand each other as people and actors beforehand, definitely.

14:22:28 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Absolutely. We touched on this is a little, Cheryl, but outside of this show, generally, do you feel the BBC has a responsibility to put forward stories that represent underrepresented parts of audiences?

14:23:08 >> Cheryl Taylor: Yes, I was just thinking there when Shaun was talking about Patrick having diabetes just using Jamie Johnson as an example and this is one example of one of many, many dramas that we do. The different storylines that people judge as mainly football drama. We covered Jamie's family and kids looking after sick parents, so young carers, we had the homophobia, we had bullying. Just in that one series, you have a set of writers and producers and commissioners

14:23:50 Who intend to broaden the scope to be as inclusive and relevant as many kids as possible. Someone was talking about we know a lot of girls watch Jamie Johnson as well, so across the piece, it is important that all of our brands have a broad appeal. I think, I know I sound like I'm heaping praise on these wonderful creators but because I think they deserve it in this one drama. Secret life of boys, all of these shows on the surface, you can say this is a comedy, this is a drama.

14:24:19 Under beneath of that, every episode addresses these issues and reflects many of the audience's lives as many as possible and giving them tools and strategies to manage their own lives. I do think suggest a scale and a specialty skill and I don't think anyone watching the show would argue that they have done it incredibly well. It is very important.

14:24:44 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: That is it, isn't it? We can talk about sport and football and LBGTQ relationships in a minute, but Jamie Johnson, this story line is a show about football largely, but the story line is not about football. You can be any young more than or older person who doesn't have the courage to come out or the opportunity to come out and see that.

14:24:59 Hopefully, be confident and inspired by it. This is not about football, right, either of you, this is show to reach out to a much, much wider audience.

14:25:27 >> Cheryl Taylor: As I say it is about identities, rites of passage, coming of age and the journey that Dillon goes on, especially the extraordinary scene with his dad, for any kid, you know who is thinking about a difficult conversation that they might want to have, that would have been key. That would have been crucial and the fact that he goes to speak to Jamie. He reaches out to his friends and gets advice.

14:25:51 That is where the beauty of having Elliot there who has gone through this before, who has to some degree come to terms with his identity and that gives lots of information, lots of hope, useful take out for kids who are watching and feeling uncertainty about their own identity.

14:26:23 >> Shaun Duggan: I think that is, if you don't mind me jumping in again, really important because we established in the story that Dillon's family is homophobic. We ran a story where his little brother was kicked out of the club about making homophobic comments about Ruby's foster parents. We have time to establish that, but it felt important when we brought in Elliot's character that he was coming in from a different place.

14:26:37 He was comfortable in who he was. He says on screen that he had been brought up with gay people, so they had different experiences, but learned from each other's experiences.

14:27:03 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Also for parents, too, right? This is not an easy conversation and not always an expected conversation for parents as well. I think is very hard to know sometimes how to react and how not to react and everyone wants to say they want to be understanding with their children, but some parents may get shocked and surprised and don't react in the most helpful ways.

14:27:13 With that scene in particular with Dillon and his dad is a good thing to pin up on the wall, and go, whatever you do, don't do that.

14:27:39 >> Shaun Duggan: Again, in terms of that is such a powerful scene, very difficult to watch and all of the actors played it so brilliant, but there is quite a pit of the series to go, so although Dillon's dad reacted veried badly, he will have his own journey to go on through the rest of the series.

14:28:18 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Hugo, you sat there patiently and calmly and nodding in the right places, so now you get to talk. Hugo works in west ham. He is in the dressing room with players. He is helping them out. He used to work at Southampton, so he works at various football clubs. He understands football. He is a gay man in football. What did you think watching this and do you think football is a different place than other parts of society?

14:28:56 >> Hugo Scheckter: First of all, it struck me how powerful it was and it was jarring from a kids' TV show. I'm not someone who watched Jamie Johnson on a regular basis before, I don't know if I'm supposed to say that. This was my first expectation of the show, watching cartoons with my nephew. Did not know what to expect, but I thought, wow, this is hard hitting and I was jarred by the whole Dillon and his father's scene.

14:29:24 I think it was absolutely fantastic to highlight that. In terms of football, I think it's a different environment in a lot of ways, but negative and positive. I think a lot of people see football as this horrible, you know, macho, alpha-male environment. The changing room is one of the most diverse groups of people you can meet.

14:30:08 We've got on the team, for example, a guy from the republic of Congress go who is friends with a Scottish guy and a Hawaiian guy and you probably don't see that in society on a general basis. I think seeing the role molls come -- models coming out, but you're seeing it in the lockdown, but allies and I think people have spoken openly and eloquently about the importance of the rainbow campaign or openly gay players or role models.

14:30:42 For me, I was in the closet and I came out about two or three years into Southampton. My job is to look after players and the families and I was trying to get the players to trust me without sharing all of myself. Once I did, the relationship was so much closer and even today at lunch, I had a player ask me about my coming out and how I realized and he talked about how he would react if his kids came out.

14:31:14 That is a conversation that you would not expect to be in a changing room or a club and the amount of discussions we had about LBGTQ issues or trans issues, I'm not shaggymane expert, but I'm a resource and I think it is hugely encouraging and it means they are inquisitive people. I think they get a bad rap and I'm 100% sure who came out would be fully accepted in the change room.

14:31:44 Players want you to be a good person and a good player and if you can 10 us stay in the league or other teams' cases, higher up in the league, that is all that matters. It does not matter who you are or what you do in your free time, what religion you are or sexual orientation, it does not matter as long as you're a good person or a good player. I think football gets a worse rap than it deserves at times.

14:32:22 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: I would counter it to be the awkward person to say going to football is the only place I would not hold my husband's hand in public. It is one thing to know what it is like in the dressing room and that is fascinating, it is another thing to walk into a football stadium and the atmosphere and the words that you hear there, whether it is racist stuff, homophobic stuff, football as a sport has a long, long way to go percent. Sports has a long way to go. There are not out

14:32:59 Is not a great place. You say it was Dillon's line in the episode, there is no out -- no out footballer in this country, how can I sort of come out and be successful and that is the crux of that is a big part of the episode, isn't it? It is a really complex question because the worst thing that can happen people endlessly talking about it and the witchhunt of we need gay footballs. Who is the gay footballer?

14:33:14 I think the narrative needs to be a welcoming environment so people feel comfortable and that may take another generation's time.

14:33:53 >> Hugo Scheckter: There are gay women footballers in the west ham. You know what, yeah, I can talk to my experience in the changing room. To be honest, I go to every game we play and I don't hear the negativity. I think there is a lot of discussion in football about this banter and from an outsider's point of view, especially in the change room, it can be seen as negative. The way I felt was the players did not joke about anything, whether it was my sexuality or whatever else,

14:34:20 My hair, my weight, or whatever it is, that means they accept me. If it is like, don't talk about gay stuff that is like they don't accept me. I had players saying can I make a gay joke to you and I say as long as you make it to my face and prepare for me to come back at you and I think that is a little bit of a difference in football environment where other industries it would not be acceptable.

14:34:46 At the end of the day, we are focused of doing one thing, which is winning matches and we have a match tomorrow. We're all focused on that we're not worried about what everyone is doing around that. We're worried about everything is doing everything they can to beat Chelsea or get a point at this point, but it is important that we work together for that one goal.

14:35:06 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Just a quick, not warning as such, advisory, that we will probably start the questions in a few minutes. I can see there are few in there. If you want to ask these lovely, almost interesting people questions, make sure you get them so we can make you as happy as possible.

14:35:18 What is acting like in comparison, Laquarn, Patrick, do you feel that is a welcoming environment for people to be themselves?

14:35:54 >> Laquarn Lewis: Well, I feel like it. Yeah, there is, but there is a lot of discrimination in the acting industry, it is not just football. I feel like, especially with type casting that is very hard in the industry, because if you act or look a certain way then it is most likely you're going to get put for this same character over and over again. It is good to just play something different to yourself and get that opportunity.

14:36:07 It is getting better in the industry, but like I said, I'm happy to play whatever, especially this role right here, because I'm helping so many people, so I'm -- thank you, yeah.

14:36:13 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Have you had people get in touch with you to say it has helped?

14:36:17 >> Laquarn Lewis: You can do this one, Patrick.

14:36:49 >> Patrick Ward: Yeah, yeah, definitely, it has been mostly positive and that is the benefit thing for me is seeing people with a message saying this has helped me come to terms with this or this helped me speak about this and that is all we're trying to achieve and just I'm proud watching the episode because everyone did such a good job. It has been fantastic and see how people have responded in a good way.

14:36:57 There has been some negativity, but a lot of people have taken it positive.

14:37:18 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: One person who is in a great position to explain a little bit more about the reception that this story line has got is Anita. So Anita Burgess, for those who were not here at the beginning of the conversation, Anita. Hello, Anita. Good evening. Nice to see you.

14:37:21 >> Anita Burgess: Hello. Nice to see you, too.

14:37:35 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Anita is the executive producer of the show. You must be absolutely fantastic the repping you have had, I would love to hear from your perspective.

14:38:11 >> Anita Burgess: It has been amazing actually. I'm known as someone who cries a lot and the reception has made me cry a lot even for me. It has been overwhelming. I think as Patrick was saying largely positive. I mean almost entirely positive, the 1% have their other views and that is there and that has to be acknowledged, but I found, I think as what was said, the most moving ones are the positive ones.

14:38:39 People feel for the first time there is something on screen that they recognize themselves in and it helps them and the complements about how the story has been handled and us not talking down to people, that sense of what we're trying to do is empower and educate and get the word out there to help people who are already in this position.

14:38:53 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: How would you not talk down to people? What are things that you can do so it does not come across as patronizing? What are things in your head as a producer to say don't do this?

14:39:30 >> Anita Burgess: We are mindful of the audience and the age they are, so you explain things and make it clear to not -- what you're trying to do is use language that they would understand, but not treat them kind of too young. I think the simplicity of the story comes from truth. It comes from Shaun's experiences.

14:39:44 Making sure the research is as thorough as possible, so we are representing the truth as much as we can, I think it is about that, so don't talk down is just be honest and clear as best we can.

14:40:10 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: That is brilliant. I think it is time we put you to the sharks and answer some questions, really. There are quite a few of them. I'm going to try to do something if I press a button, they might come up on the screen. I'm going to apologize in advance if I get that wrong and someone will tell me if I'm doing this wrong.

14:40:42 So Dillon's storyline has been gripping, someone says. Beautifully written and amazingly active. Lots of compliments. This is best directed to you, Cheryl, of CBC producing a series with younger audiences where being LBGTQ plus being the center of the show? Can you, not target, but get this message to a younger audience?

14:41:13 >> Cheryl Taylor: Thank you for the question. As I was saying earlier, obviously CBC is the preschool channel and we have 6-12, to some degree we're limited to the type of lens we can put on sexuality, obviously, and as I mentioned earlier, a lot around your identity is something that we can explore. It has to be done in a certain way, because we have quite a wide age group.

14:41:47 I think the way this story is played out from 9-12 and above has been perfect, so depending on how someone wrote a story and type of character that they highlighted, I think anything is possible. Our central messages are about tolerance and inclusion and that people should feel OK about being themselves and I think you can get those messages across in many, many different ways, as to say for preschool age.

14:41:54 It would depend on the type of character and how they were portrayed, but essentially, yes, absolutely.

14:41:59 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Since you're talking, you can answer the next question.

14:42:00 >> Cheryl Taylor: Go.

14:42:22 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Shaun might have an opinion as well. How long did it take to develop the idea and were you nervous about it? The person here, he says he produced when Andrew Hayden Smith came out and people were nervous that people like parents would complain. Were you aware of that or, no, we're doing the right thing?

14:42:51 >> Cheryl Taylor: I wasn't nervous, actually, that is partly to do with the team. Again as I mentioned this there are a lot of tricky storylines in Jamie Johnson and our other dramas. Anita, Shaun, everyone is very, very experienced and I knew they would handle it really well and similarly, the commissioning editor, Amy and her team would have explained the storylines with Anita.

14:43:25 That is one part of it and going back to Patrick, Patrick is such a key, key character in Jamie Johnson and he has taken on so many different things, so right from the beginning. I remember Anita telling me Patrick embraced the idea because he felt it was so important. Genuinely, we knew the team, there might have been a few more question marks, but with this team we did not have any anxiety.

14:44:06 Anita and Amy in presentation and talked to the press and introducing it and Patrick introduced it and pushing to news rounds and also on social media kind of making sure there were links there to child life or the other kids that might be watching who were worried and going through new experiences. Across the piece, everyone was so empathetic that it might be a troublesome story line, and they did brilliant work to make sure it was embedded in the right way.

14:44:23 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Brilliant. Shaun, this one is for you. This person is called anonymous attendee, who I don't think is their real name, how important is it for LBGTQ stories to have a happy ending?

14:44:46 >> Shaun Duggan: Incredibly important, as far as I'm concerned. In the past, we have seen so many examples, you know, where there is a tragic ending and to be honest because that is reflected reality, because it has been in the past incredibly hard to be gay in this country. It was only in the 1960's, it was legal to be gay.

14:45:11 In the 80'S, we had the AIDS epidemic and you couldn't discuss being gay in school, so it is only in the past 20 or so years, we have been on this incredible journey and we are in a position now where we can tell these positive stories that reflect real people's lives.

14:45:31 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: I think when you grow up a gay teenager there is a lot of feeling that you won't have all of the things that people laid out for other people. I grew up thinking I'm not going to get married and not have kids and I'm going to be unhappy. Having hope.

14:46:11 >> Shaun Duggan: For me being able to tell it, I talked about being bullied at school. I was 21 before I came out. That ad less scents that most people have, I didn't have. It was stolen from me. It gives me so much hope that young people have the confidence to talk sexuality and build on those.

14:46:45 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: I'm being asked by Christopher, how have your peers responded to you playing this role? Obviously, Laquarn, you mentioned discrimination in industry. Have actors been supportive in what you have done? Lincoln people around me like my friends and family and people who watch have really supported me and and there is nothing far from like myself. Elliot is just like myself.

14:47:19 >> Laquarn Lewis: I -- so my friends have always been supportive, but I chose to wait until I left secondary school to tell them what my sexuality was, because I knew in secondary schools, if you are different in any way shape or form whether that is sexuality, disability, you will be brutalized and it is a horrible thing. I already knew I was going to wait until then. I was worried about my friends and what they would think as well.

14:47:46 When I told them, I have never seen such amazing support of people and doing this right now in the show, they have picked me up so much. They said the bravery it takes to be able to be open about your sexuality and then do this and silt just amazing and I thank everyone around me really.

14:47:51 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Patrick, anything to add or is that an impossible act to follow?

14:48:22 >> Patrick Ward: That is summed up perfectly. A different thing for me, this story line, but everybody around me has been very supportive. There are people I know, to be fair, from school or who you see out who haven't -- made comments, but as a reality, for me, you have conversations about this and able to express and I think it has been already.

14:48:43 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Someone sells asking, when you're doing a story line like this, are you given any help or claiming in terms or warnings about how to deal with the response afterwards on social media? It is hard to know what things are going to be like, right?

14:49:12 >> Laquarn Lewis: Yeah, we have had Zoom sessions with Anita and Shaun and BBC, everyone involved in making Jamie Johnson and particularly, this storyline, they have given us guidelines and a draft response to people who are giving us hate and BBC says we don't respond to this. We have been helped really well.

14:49:50 >> Patrick Ward: I think that is spot on that it has been interesting that I have been doing this for quite a while and I remember being 12 and in a room and talking about social media before I had ever been on TV and people saying, this is -- you're going to have this kind of response and this kind of thing and I remember being mind blown. It now a part of reality on how to respond with these things. I have a strict code of conduct with my social media and mostly what we have had ha fantast

14:50:26 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: There is one question that has been asked more than anything else, so we're going to save it to the end. We're going to go to a tough one and Shaun and Anita, you are probably best place to ask this. Someone said a line that jumped out to me, I think this is in the scene with Dillon and his dad, you are gay or you're not. Should we be telling people that identities aren't binary?

14:50:52 >> Shaun Duggan: I think with that line, you're writing truthfully from Dillon's dad's perspective. He hasn't got this great understand on of the subject and it is the kind of thing that he might say and not everyone is 100% gay. A lot of people are, a lot of people aren't, a lot of people in the middle.

14:51:32 Dillon is actually trying to tell his dad the truth and his dad is making it as difficult as possible for him, so I think I would rather focus on the positive message and the scenes that we have between Dillon and Elliot, where there was so much positive materials spoken about rather than focusing on Dillon's dad, who at this stage is homophobic and ignorant and a bigot, really.

14:52:05 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: This question is from a teacher and she says if she teaches things about homophobia or transgender issues, she gets parents saying she is trying to make them that way and we hear this quite a lot, right? If you tell people about transgender people, you're going to make them transgender. She is asking, have you had any of that or generally people been a lot lovier?

14:52:38 >> Shaun Duggan: If I could just say from my perspective on that, again, talking about what I was saying earlier, from being born to 12-13, I did not see any gay representation on TV I did not know what gay people were. I still became gay. If you go on that lodge you can, I should be an heterosexual, because I should have been inspired by boys and girls, but I wasn't. I still became gay.

14:52:54 You have to be careful when you have the debates, don't you of just having an open mind. At the end of the day, you know instinctively what you are from an a young age.

14:53:23 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Begs the question, if I watch enough "Game of Thrones" will by a weird person and run around with a spear in my hand?  Not sure how that works. This question is for Cheryl from Miriam. She says in children's media, it can be hard to get certain things to air. With this story line, you had to tweak it or limit it in order for it to get to that stage or were you allowed to be fairly free with it?

14:53:57 >> Cheryl Taylor: Thanks for your question, Miriam. I think that goes back to the one we answered earlier, which was, I think the teams, s Anita and Amy and Shaun were looking at getting the story across in an age appropriate way. We is 6-12, so we need to make sure it is age appropriate.

14:54:38 Generally, there are some things I get exercised about, along with Katherine McAllister and I think pat and Laquarn was mentioning and we talked to her if we worried about a story line. Because this one, series five, coming from Shaun's personal experience and a specialty team, I didn't have any concerns about that.

14:55:12 >> Anita Burgess: Can I jump in as well, because I think it is important that people can understand how the producer coming to the BBC with this story, it wasn't something that we thought oh, we're not going to be able to do that. We knew the team would be very willing to talk to us and they did and we had a very in-depth discussion all the way along the line, they were incrediblably supportive of making sure this is age appropriate and the clarity was there, but the truth was there.

14:55:31 I think all credit it to the BBC if there is a perception that there is something you can't do there, that is not the case. There is always a conversation to be had there and they have been enormously supported right from the start.

14:55:50 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Hugo, young footballers coming through as teenagers, do they get a good education in being open minded? I can't remember how much they are in school and how much they are not at school. How do young sports people get taught how to be open minder?

14:56:17 >> Hugo Scheckter: I don't think we teach them to be open minded, I think we teach them a variety of life skills that leads them to being open minds, which was the idea. They are meeting people that they would not have met through their normal lives and I think that is a positive experience, but we also make sure everything we are doing that is appropriate and talk about the social media guidelines that the actors go through.

14:56:43 We go through the same thing, not only in the things they put out, but what they receive and we have had a number of issues with various comments getting to our players and having to deal with that. I think you can't maybe teach -- you can teach open mindness, but that is not our goal. Our goal is to make well-rounded people who are also excellent footballers.

14:57:06 We haven't seen issues in the any of the clubs I worked with where players are not accepting each other or having problems with each other it. Tends to be they competed on a position, where two goalkeepers competing for one position, but not the personality of the major clashes that happens at younger ages.

14:57:25 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: I reckon apart from the one person who is asking if they can play football with Patrick, we have time for two more questions. Laquarn, Patrick, what have you learned from filming these scenes?

14:57:49 >> Patrick Ward: I think a lot. These are the scenes I was looking forward to the most. When you get the scripts, especially the ones, obviously we rehearsed a lot, but I learned a lot as an actor and I am not able to prescription it very well because it is an organic process and try to embed yourself into it.

14:58:01 I like to think of it being modern and I think you learn a lot from this kind of thing, especially as a new actor.

14:58:04 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Laquarn, over to you.

14:58:40 >> Laquarn Lewis: I think it is -- it shows a way of how somebody can cope with coming out and how they deal with telling people and stuff and what I have learned from filming this and getting out there to people is, it doesn't have to be someone on the screen. You can be the person in real life to support your friend. All it takes you to ask them if they are OK and they might all of a sudden tell you that or anything.

14:58:55 If you just support people around you then you know it is something to help them that little bit more to be themselves.

14:59:11 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: So the last question of the night, the question that everyone is asking in this Q&A and we have to ask wow getting in trouble, is Elliot coming back? Who is answering that question?

14:59:28 >> Anita Burgess: I guess that is me, isn't it? We're hopeful. Things are in the process at the moment. Things aren't completely finished yet, but we're hopeful to find a way of continuing it somehow.

14:59:33 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: Laquarn, you're in luck. It is a night to celebrate.

14:59:35 >> Anita Burgess: He might not want to.

14:59:37 >> Laquarn Lewis: I would. I would.

15:00:14 >> Alex Kay-Jelski: There you go. It is a job acceptance live on air. Thank you so much all of you for your time, your questions, your excellent answers. I have enjoyed it and I hope you have as well. There are a lot of people struggling out there, as well, if you know them, I recommend the charities, it takes so much work to help people in relation to storylines like this, absolutely massive.

[theatresweetheart]

Homeward Nightmares

Desperate Measures: Chapter 1

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, G/t

Summary: Logan suffers with nightmares of his time in a pet shop and Patton tries to help.

Warnings: Over-exhaustion, traumatic flashbacks, brief injury mention, blood mention, brief descriptions of blood, main character being treated like a pet, brief talk of death (being put to sleep), excessive swearing, fear, crying, panic attack.

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Logicality, Familial Moxiety, Familial Analogical

Word Count: 4686 words

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @anonymous-bean @sandersships @kaytikitty @picklesandbeyond @minty4green

A/n: For the taglist, I decided to just tag everyone that wanted to be tagged for the Desperate Measures story. If you want to be removed from/added to a certain taglist, shoot me an ask or a message and let me know! Otherwise, enjoy!

                                         +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The ever insistent tapping on the metal bars rattled through this core. The snide looks he would get from the other side of the cage; large eyes that held a malice for him and his kind, smiles that did not reach the patrons’ eyes.

Smiles that were dangerous and sharp.

But the child that stood in front of him, while she didn’t look dangerous to the average human adult, was a threat to Logan’s safety.

Kids did not take lightly to borrowers, especially not when their parents didn’t seem to care much about teaching them manners and decency. Children saw borrowers as toys and things to be physically manipulated—like a doll or an action figure. Something inanimate and therefore, not sentient.

The girl had entered the store about ten minutes ago and she had immediately searched for something in particular. It wasn’t until she was standing in front of Logan’s cage had he realized she was there for him. Or, if not him personally, then for Arthur who was quietly rocking himself back and forth on the other side of the enclosure.

She raised a hand and tapped at the bars again, trying to gain his attention. Logan stayed resolute with his back turned to her, but he could still feel her eyes digging into his back. The heat of the look she was giving him.

When the borrower stayed sitting, his knees curled up to his chest and his head ducked down, she relented for a moment. The thundering footsteps falling away behind him.

At this, he turned his head, watching as she went to tug at her father’s suit jacket. The man in question seemed to have his head bent forwards and his eyes glued directly to his phone as if it were the most important thing in the world. However, with a look like that, Logan could tell that this was the kind of man was that was ready to buy his way out of a problem if something went awry.

He wasn’t going to be bothered with her or her father until he saw that she was pointing in his direction.

He couldn’t hear their conversation, but he had an itching feeling that he knew what exactly she wanted.

The father had then turned to the shopkeeper after that, asking about something or other. The conversation was too distant for Logan to be able to make out what exactly they were saying but with the devilish grin the girl sent back over her shoulder, he knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“This is it,” Arthur mumbled to himself, his head in his hands as he kept rocking himself back and forth, as if he was trying to calm himself down.

Any conversation that he tried to have with the other male usually ended up with Arthur in some sort of anxiety-induced fit. One would have thought that Logan would have been better with that sort of reaction as his own son had suffered through the same thing, just in different circumstances.

Seemed that being away from them for four months had already taken a toll on his emotional well-being.

“We’re going to die here,” Arthur continued to bellyache and moan.

No, Logan wasn’t going to die here.

He wasn’t about to just kneel and keel over. Not when he had so much riding on getting out of this damned place.

It wasn’t long before the shopkeeper was coming over, the little girl and her father trailing behind. The keys jangled in their hand and the lock on the cage was undone before he could even think to say something.

“C’mere Logan,” the shopkeeper said in a condescending tone as they pulled the door open, before lowering themselves down to kneel with their hand palm up in front of the opening. “Little Eliza here would like to hold you.”

“Get lost,” he shot back, brown eyes sharp and distrusting.

The shopkeeper sighed, rubbing their free hand down their face. “I don’t want to play these games today, just be good for once and come here.”

Logan sneered at that, rolled his shoulders and deliberately turned his back to the three humans.

“Is he always like this?” The father asked, but he sounded more distracted and uninterested than he actually was.

“Unfortunately,” the shopkeeper replied, “Eliza, would you like to hold Arthur instead? He is better behaved.”

“No,” the girl said suddenly, with such vigor that it startled Logan. “I want him, not the other one. The other one looks like a nervous wreck.”

A quick glance over to the other borrower did solidify that truth. He really did look like a nervous wreck, shaking and shivering and muttering to himself.

“Logan,” the shopkeeper raised their voice again, trying to sound more authoritative. Like that had ever worked in the past. “Come here. Don’t make me reach in there and grab you.”

That wasn’t even a threat anymore.

“Allow me, sir,” Eliza said in that mock innocent voice.

Logan turned to look over his shoulder when the shopkeeper gave a surprised noise and the young man was instead welcomed with the sight of a hand coming directly for him. A startled yelp escaped him without his permission as the childish hand got far too close to him for comfort and he raised an arm as if that would defend him.

Of course he was disappointed when the girl’s hand wrapped around his form anyways, beginning to lift him off of the cage floor without a problem. As if he wasn’t a full grown man.

Vertigo hit far too soon and he was pulled out from inside of what had, sadly, become a safety net. While many people had stared in and pointed and laughed, no one had been able to touch and grab him before.

He was pulled up in a fist that was far too tight, that shoved his arms painfully into his sides, so much so that he knew he would have bruises by this evening.

“Gentle with him, kid,” the shopkeeper said, noticing the grimace on the smaller features, “he’s not as strong as you.”

“I’m being gentle,” Eliza lied through her teeth, that shark-like grin never leaving her features as she examined the borrower in her hands. “He just doesn’t know what it’s like to be held.”

“I shouldn’t have to know what that’s like,” Logan hissed up at her and she squeezed a bit tighter, shoving the wind from his lungs.

“Pets shouldn’t talk back, that’s what my always daddy says.”

“Very good, darling,” her father mused, scrolling through something on his phone before beginning to tap away at the screen.

While the shopkeeper did look initially worried about Logan’s well-being, they weren’t doing much to change the situation either. There was a lot that they could do to the kid, such as making her put him down. Making sure that she didn’t squeeze the life from him without meaning to—or completely meaning to, whatever her intentions with him were.

“Let me go,” Logan’s voice was hoarse from lack of a proper supply of air being taken in, but it wouldn’t stop him from making demands. Not when his safety was on the line.

Eliza giggled again, shaking her head and using her thumb to stroke up and down his back in a rough and careless motion, obviously trying to cause him discomfort. “Pets also aren’t allowed to make demands, my daddy says that too.”

Logan grit his teeth, frustration nipping at him. “Let. Me. Go,” he enunciated this time, as if he thought she didn’t understand him the first time.

He was trying to stay as calm as possible, as losing his temper was something that wasn’t going to help him at all in this situation, but he was so close. So fucking close to doing something he knew he would regret afterwards—not in terms of feeling bad, he couldn’t care less about the human child and her ridiculous feelings, but for the punishment that would be sure to follow instantly afterwards.

Eliza only shook her head, making her stroking motions a bit more painful and prominent. “Borrowers like you shouldn’t be talking back to their owners,” her eyes sharpened. “Daddy, can I have it?”

‘It.’

‘Can I have it.’

That was fucking it.

“Whatever you want darling,” the father said.

Logan’s eyes scanned the three humans and he was pleasantly surprised when he noticed how none of them were focused on him, far too busy with each other. Which gave him more of a chance. With those words shoving an icy knife into his stomach, he needed to make a split second decision. After a moment of deliberation and desperation and his survival instincts taking over, he—albeit hesitantly—bit down into the girl’s hand and held.

His nose wrinkled when he felt the hot rush of blood flood into his mouth and suddenly all he could taste was metallic and thick.

“Ouch!” Came the cry from the female and before long, her hand snapped open from its locked position around his form and, without anything keeping him upright, Logan was dropped back onto the tabletop where his cage was. “It bit me!”

“Disgraceful,” the father snorted, “keep that thing away from my daughter. You should put it down for biting an innocent child.”

“Innocent my ass,” Logan snarled, pushing himself up onto his elbows while his torso groaned at him in agony, before raising a hand to wipe the remnants of blood from the edges of his mouth. “Your hellish child could have killed me.”

“It would have been no loss,” the man spat back, picking his daughter up as she wailed and held her hand close to herself. “I demand something to make up for this tragedy.”

The shopkeeper, who had been frozen in their surprise, quickly gathered Logan up into their hands. “O-of course, sir, I’m so sorry! He’s never done something like that before, I didn’t think he would—”

“I don’t care about what you thought and what you didn’t think, I want something to compensate for the pain that it put my daughter through. You can start by getting her a band-aid.”

“O-of course, sir.”

The shopkeeper’s attention fluttered down to the borrower in their hand and Logan just glared right back up at them, brown eyes so full of hatred and fury that shone through chocolate brown bangs. Almost as if he was challenging them to do something to him.

“You are in so much trouble for this,” the shopkeeper said then, as Eliza and her father decided to browse the rest of the pet shop for something of better interest that wouldn’t end up biting her. “It’s going to be a world of hurt for you.”

“I fucking dare you,” was what they got back in response.

It was a challenge. Logan was challenging them to do something to him and they hadn’t thought that far ahead. They hadn’t expected Logan to say anything at all—in fact, they had sort been hoping that the borrower would be sulking like he usually did in his cage. Not this time, it seemed. This time he was ready to fight them every step of the way.

Though, when the shopkeeper’s eyes hardened on him, Logan finally felt something stir within him. The dangerous, cold look he was getting in return. A calculating stare he was used to giving, but not used to receiving.

“Maybe I will get you put down for this. That way, you’ll never get to see your family again. They’d never know what happened to you. And it would teach you not to mess with those that have such power over you. It would be your last mistake.”

The words hit him like nothing else had before. They sat like a heavy rock in his chest and anything about defying the shopkeeper that had wormed its way into him was gone.

————

Logan woke up in a cold sweat.

The taste of something metallic was overwhelming.

He blinked, panicked, trying to figure out where he was. The pitch black, save for the tiny bit of light seeping in from just above him, was making it hard to correspond that he was safe. It was hard to recognize what was surrounding him when he couldn’t see.

The blankets under his hands felt weighted and cold, thick and scratchy.

There was also a warmth beside him, a tired voice mumbling something, but Logan needed to get out. He needed out. He needed to get out.

He couldn’t do this.

He could not do this.

Unable to calm himself down quick enough, he threw off the blankets and sat up, using a hand to push his hair out of his face before reaching blindly for his glasses. It took a couple tries, but he managed to find them. 

The sound of someone shifting behind him made the young man stand up, twisting to face someone that he hadn’t wanted to ever see again.

Bright, sharp, sadistic green eyes looked right back at him and Logan’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Maybe I should get you put down for this.”

Cold.

He was so cold. The look that he was getting from the other made him step back, eyes wide and terrified.

“It would be your last mistake.”

Hot.

The room was so hot. When had it gotten so warm? The thundering of his heart in his chest was the only thing Logan could focus on. Not the panting breaths, not the blood he could hear rushing in his ears.

Not the taste of blood in his mouth.

“Your family? Please. They’d never know what happened to you.”

He couldn’t breathe, his chest was tight and his mind was blank. Everything was blurring around him, the terror that seized his wrists was real and electric. Hot and cold all at the same time.

“Logan?” The voice didn’t match the features he was seeing, but his mind was in far too much of a frenzy to actually register who was saying it. The panic that just seemed so instinctual was far outweighing his rational thought. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Eliza was right there. Standing outside the bars of his enclosure and he had no hope of getting out of this mess alive. Not when she had been so upset the first time. He didn’t remember getting caught again. Or, no, maybe he hadn’t been caught again. He had never truly gotten back home in the first place. Everything had been far too good for that.

A human that cared? A borrower that trusted said human? Getting to actually hold Patton and Virgil again? It must have been some sick trick. His mind was playing games on him in his grief.

Using tactile hallucinations to torture him.

“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, his voice breaking.

He tried to sound demanding but it came out as more of a withered, desperate plead.

“Pets don’t make demands.”

But they weren’t listening to him. The movements, while sluggish and tired and obviously weighed down by the late night, had slowed down considerably. Almost as if she didn’t know what to do.

Though, they still came closer to him. Logan matched it instantly with a step backwards. Every time the person in front of him came closer, he tried to put more space between them. Before long, Logan had his back pressed against the wall. 

He was cornered.

The hands then raised and were held up in a position that he recognized as a sign of surrender, which made no sense. Eliza had been far too persistent to leave him alone. She always had that sadistic grin on her features as her fingers had wrapped around his form, threatening to squeeze the life from him. To bruise and to tease and to taunt like he wasn’t a person with emotions or morals or sentience.

There was the ghost of her tight hold, compressing and forcing shorter breaths in and out. His panic was not helping the situation in the least.

He felt himself go weak in the knees and he slumped against the wall, staring up at the person in front of him with terror. The only emotion he was coherent enough to summon forward.

“Logan, you need to breathe,” the voice said again and the vision flickered between two vastly contrasting scenes.

There was the pet store in all its glory. The loud chirping from the other animals and the tinkling from that stupid bell above the door. Eliza, her father and the shopkeeper standing on the other side of him, all looking smug and victorious.

But then, the other scene was relatively relaxing. It was dark. He was back home. Patton was kneeling in front of him. Dark curls falling in front of tired features but soft gentle eyes pleading for him to relax. For a different reaction than what he was getting.

“Look at me,” the tone pleaded again and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t ignore me, Logan. You’re in no place to be making demands.”

“Can’t,” he choked out finally, his eyes squeezing shut as tears flooded forward, the echoing of the past six months were loud bells, ringing and chiming. Sharp reminders of what he had gone through.

There was too much going on. Eliza was taunting him, the shopkeeper was using this weakness against him. The moment he looked up would be the moment he let those damned humans win. He couldn’t let them win. He couldn’t let them break him.

The moment he broke would be the moment he lost his only chance to go back home.

He would lose everything.

A gentle breath was released in front of him. “Yes you can,” the voice was quiet, reassuring. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His shoulders were bunched, hands shaking as they stayed firmly pressed against the floor, trying to keep himself as far from the person in front of him as he could.

In what seemed like forever—possibly only ten seconds or so—Logan felt the presence get closer to him. He could feel their warmth, but in all honestly, he was too scared to open his eyes for a few different reasons.

If he were to look, it would leave no barrier between his un-shed tears and the person in front of him, thus causing him to lose any progress he had made with them by proving he was emotionless. Humans could use that information to manipulate you. He couldn’t show that weakness. He didn’t have an Achilles heel.

The other reason was that he was terrified to see Eliza again. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not anymore.

Before he could say anything, he felt the person grab him by the hand. A loving touch. A tender grasp that said more than words could. Logan had initially flinched at the sudden, somewhat unwelcome, contact.

This was a touch that he knew. A touch that he could trust.

A sob jumped in his chest as soon as reality set back in and almost immediately, the presence grew far closer.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, after convincing himself that he was fine—he was completely safe, nothing was going to happen to him—he saw Patton’s sad eyes, but it wasn’t just that. It was more than that. It was concern, grief and unsaid words. Whispers that neither of them had the heart to say to each other.

All within a second, Logan was being tugged into the sweet embrace of his husband, a hand pressed against the back of his head and keeping him safe. He was safe.

It wasn’t long before the one sob turned into two, then three, then four. And then they didn’t stop.

Logan reacted before his mind had caught up to him, but his hands dug into the back of Patton’s shirt, hiding his face into the crook between his neck and shoulder and just sobbing. Heaving, in and out without time or pace.

“Shh, shh,” Patton soothed him quietly, letting his free hand stroke up and down Logan’s back, shifting and rubbing circles instead. It went between both motions a couple times, but never was it unpredictable. “You’re okay, I’m right here. Everything is okay.”

It was painful, seeing him like this. So broken and scared. Nightmares had never really happened before Logan had been captured. They had been present from time to time, sure, but not to this extreme. Not to the extreme that one hallucinated someone else in the room with them.

Or to physically see the threat.

Or to physically feel the threat.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped quietly, sniffling as the tears finally began to slow down. He tried to regain his composure. “I— I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t apologize, Logan,” Patton didn’t pull back from the embrace until he felt Logan shifting. He didn’t want to take the comfort away too soon if Logan wasn’t ready to lose it. “It was a nightmare and you can’t prevent those. Don’t apologize for reacting the way you did. It’s okay.”

Once he felt him shifting, Patton allowed himself to pull back but he didn’t release Logan fully. He reached up, removing Logan’s glasses and setting them to the side before using the sleeve of his night shirt to wipe the water away to the best of his ability.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes, Logan allowing Patton to clean him up without fighting back or complaining, whether teasingly or seriously, at the mother hen-like actions.

Sitting in the peace and quiet of each other was only going to last (and help) for so long. After another moment of quiet deliberation, Patton was speaking—softly and with no sense of pressure—again;

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

The request was innocent, Logan knew that, but he shook his head. He really did not want to relive the past ten minutes so early in the morning.

Patton sighed quietly, before nodding. “Alright. Think you can get back to sleep?”

That was something he was less sure about, but it seemed there was no true harm in trying. He was exhausted, that much was obvious. Emotionally and physically drained.

“Yeah.”

There was an understanding shared between them and Patton handed Logan his glasses. There was that lingering heaviness in the air, but it was going to be like that for a while anyhow.

Trauma lingered and continually affected one’s day to day life. To expect Logan to just immediately heal because he was home would be absurd and irrational.

No matter how much it hurt Patton’s heart to see him loved one so distressed, the only thing he could do was support him. Ease him through the nightmares and continually prove himself a worthy and safe presence.

Without saying anything else and just as Patton was beginning to stand, the lightest knock from their bedroom door caught their attention. Virgil stood in the doorway, his over sized hoodie draped over his shoulders as he held tightly to a blanket like it was a tether. The little one also had his sleeve stuck in his mouth, a nervous habit.

Logan belatedly realized that it was the blanket he had made the boy for his fourth birthday.

The two adults watched as the little boy’s eyes moved between them, obviously reading the situation. They seemed to grow even sadder when what was happening registered. 

Virgil was incredibly perceptive, which was admittedly an important trait in a borrower, but this only proved how much harder it was to hide things from him. Especially when he knew what to look for.

“Hey kid,” Logan croaked, his voice was practically gone by this point in the night. He raised a hand and waved as an invitation for Virgil to come in.

As soon as he had been given permission, Virgil immediately went to his fathers and sunk down to his knees, crawling into Logan’s arms and letting himself be held.

While it was reassuring and comforting for Virgil, Logan also felt better. Being able to hold his son so close, to cradle him in his arms. To feel the rise and fall of his breaths and the light patter of his heartbeat. It was solidifying the idea that he was truly back home, that this wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.

His hold tightened unconsciously on the kid and Virgil responded by holding tighter to his father.

It was almost as if Logan was trying to shield Virgil from the horrors that he had seen. The horrors of the human world and their disgusting wants and needs. His son would never see that side of humanity, not if he had anything to say about. The most that Virgil would see would be the students that attended the University—at least the students only complained about midterms, homework and early mornings.

The third hand that suddenly appeared on Logan’s back surprised him slightly, but he leaned into the touch as well.

He was safe and the images he had seen were just that; images.

He did feel a twinge in his chest when he realized what had brought Virgil in here in the first place. It meant that Logan’s panic had been loud enough to wake him, even with his room down the hall. But the genuine concern that the boy had to come and see if he was doing okay was kind. Certainly something that Virgil had picked up from Patton, undoubtedly.

Patton stroked his fingers through Virgil’s hair a couple times, watching as he just seemed to melt into Logan’s embrace, the tired features were hidden in his shoulder.

“Let’s get you two back to bed, hmm?”

Logan’s eyes turned to Patton as his husband smiled lightly, sadly but genuine. He could agree that getting to bed would be the most logical course of action, as it certainly was not the time to be awake.

Patton pushed himself off of his knees and Logan was soon to follow, however a bit slower as he tried not to shift Virgil too much. He wasn’t sure if the kid was asleep or not, but he didn’t want to disturb him either way. Then there was the task of getting him back to bed.

As the blanket slid from Virgil’s hand, Logan was quick to attempt to get it before Patton picked it up for him.

“Mm,” the voice from his shoulder mumbled quietly. “Papa?”

Logan hummed in response, showing that he was listening. “Yes, Virgil?”

Virgil shifted his head a little bit, enough so that he could see the underside of his father’s jaw. “Can I stay here with you and Dad tonight?”

Logan didn’t even have to look at Patton to know the answer to that. “Of course you can,” he adjusted him a little bit more, so he could hold onto him a bit more comfortably and securely.

The bed that they had was big enough for three people, especially when one of those three was a six-year-old boy.

After a bit of readjusting the bed—since Logan had nearly torn it apart in his panic to get away—he set Virgil down beside Patton and immediately, Virgil clung onto him.

The sight was what gave him pause. It was what made him stop for a minute and really see just how lucky he was to be there in that moment.

To see his boys curled up together, safe and comfortable.

The grin that twitched the edges of his lips was genuine. Pulling his glasses off and setting them off to the side, Logan pulled at the comforter before slipping underneath as well. He wrapped his arms around both Virgil and Patton and tugged them both closer to him.

Logan was insanely lucky to be back home. He had watched countless others get adopted from the same cage he had been in, shared brief farewells with other borrowers who were never seen again. The thought was heavy and uncomfortable, but being able to say he was alive.

To be able to say that he was home.

That was what mattered the most.