#as in finding out that he’s dependent on his chest plate to live

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #50

[babyleostuff]

when their strong independent s/o suddenly wants to be babied | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

oh, he’d love that. as much of a baby as he is, cheol adores taking care of people that he loves, especially you, and especially because you’re never the one to lean on others or ask for help. so the second he notices you’re a lot more touchy and that your gaze follows him everywhere, his arms are wrapped around you in an instant, and he’s asking if you need any food, water, more pillows, or if the TV is too loud, while running his hand gently through your hair. he would never tell you this, but he’d be so thankful to you that you trusted him enough to let your guard down around him and allow yourself to depend on him a bit more sometimes (if it was his way, he’d like you to be a bit less independent, because he knows how tiresome it sometimes is, but nonetheless, cheol would always be there for you).

❥ jeonghan 

he’s already babying you, even when you're being your cold and independent self. he doesn’t care that you want to open that jar, he’s going to take it out of your hands and do it himself. you’re sitting on the couch while watching a movie with a popcorn bowl separating you? no problem, jeonghan moves it out of the way and pulls you down, so you could rest on his chest, while he’s throwing a blanket around you. he doesn’t do that because he thinks you’re incapable of taking care of yourself - he knows you can, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t depend on him. besides, when he notices how exhausted you are but still doesn't want to depend on someone else, it makes him angry. so, be as independent as you wish, jeonghan is still going to baby the shit out of you. 

❥ joshua

same as jeonghan, you’re already getting that princess treatment, darling. but unlike hannie, joshua does that unconsciously - he doesn’t pay attention to the way he pets your hair whenever you succeed in something, how he grabs your waist to move you out of the way, so that he could reach for that plate, or how he always made sure you’d walk on the inner side of the sidewalk. he knew you were an independent, strong person, but he wouldn’t let you carry all of your burdens yourself, and he’d try to help you in any way he could to make it a bit easier for you. whenever you got a bit more baby around him, joshua would activate his physical touch and cling to you like a koala, because he knew how much, deep down, you enjoyed his clingy, and puppy like side.

❥ jun 

give him a second, because he’s freaking out. will turn into the fluffiest fluffball to ever fluff, because he wants nothing more than to make you happy when you’re in need of a bit more love and comfort. but before smothering you with his kisses and cuddles, jun makes sure you’re feeling fine mentally and physically - he sits you down, takes your hands in his, and when you assure him that you just need to be taken care of for a bit, he goes into teddy bear mode. He loves it when you depend on him, when you snuggle a bit closer to him in search for warmth, when you follow him around everywhere, when you link your pinky fingers when you’re out for a stroll. 

❥ hoshi 

giggling and kicking his feet. this man lives for taking care of you, even if his methods are sometimes a bit questionable. he loves your independent side, soonyoung finds it so cool that you are able to take such good care of yourself, but it makes him sulk sometimes, because “why don’t you depend on me a bit more?” so, whenever you are in baby mode, he tries to make the most of it - hug the shit out of you, follow you wherever he can, squish your cheeks, and call you corny pet names that would usually make you puke. but he would also be a bit more protective over you whenever you let your guard down like that, because he knew you were extra vulnerable in times like these. so, he’d bundle the both of you into a blanket burrito, and hide you from the world for a while. 

❥ wonwoo 

silently screaming, crying, throwing up. you are just as independent as he is, and sometimes he worries that you don’t consider him someone you can depend on or lean on. that’s why moments like these - when you are a bit more clingy and touchy, when you play with his hair a lot more, when you come waddling into his room with a blanket around you to sit beside him and watch him game - it reassures him that he does a good job as a boyfriend, and he tries his best to comfort you, without making you feel like you’re being weak for letting your guard for a bit. the biggest reward for him was when you fell asleep next to him while he was reading you a book in bed. 

❥ woozi 

in the past, woozi was a bit insecure about being the caregiver - he wasn’t sure he was the person you needed to baby you, or give you extra comfort and love. but after you made multiple threats, and changed his password to his studio, he kind of got the idea that yes, he was the person you needed. woozi secretly loved how you leaned on him from time to time, it gave him a peace of mind that you could rest a bit in his presence, and let go of your strong persona, and just be your adorable, little self. he always kept extra blankets in his studio in case you came pouting and asking for cuddles, so he could always have something to wrap around you and keep you warm. 

❥ dk 

endless cuddles incoming. once he notices that you want to be taken care of and babied, there is no way he’s going to let go of you. even if you’d want to get up for a glass of water, worry not, your puppy of a boyfriend would be right behind you, his (buff) arms wrapped securely around your waist, just in case you tried to get away from him. but he’d also understand that you usually acted like this when you were emotionally and physically tired, so he would make sure to talk to you, and comfort you in any way you needed (even though you insisted that cuddles were enough, he knew you were silently asking for a couple of kisses, and for him to sing to you, so you could finally rest without worry). 

❥ mingyu 

puppy nr. 2. the second he’d see you following him with a pout on your face, he’d know it was his time to put on his best husband act, and baby the shit out of you. he’d lift you up without saying anything (giggling in his mingoo giggles), carry you to the kitchen, place you on the counter, stand between your legs, playfully peck your lips, and get ready to make you your favourite ramyeon. mingyu would make a total fool out of himself just to make you laugh, because to him, as long as you were happy and smiling, it was all that mattered. after eating, he’d bundle you up in the most oversized hoodie he owned, wrap you up in a blanket, and put on a scary movie, just so he could cuddle you really, really, really close (his eyes were closed for the whole duration of the movie). 

❥ minghao 

cue in heart eyes. hao’s acts of service or physical touch were always low-key - you always knew he was there for you, but he didn’t push his love into other people’s faces. but, when you needed to be babied, when you needed that extra warmth and comfort form your boyfriend, minghao was always more happy than to turn into your personal teddy bear. he loved how independent you were, it made him so proud that you could take care of yourself, but at the same time it made him worry that you were draining yourself too much. that’s why when you needed to be babied, YOU WERE BABIED. whatever you’d ask for, he’d do it in an instant, no questions asked - it could be the most stupid thing and he’d do it with a smile on his face. 

❥ seungkwan 

mom mode activated. at first he’d get a bit worried that you were acting a lot more baby with him, letting him hug you without side eyeing him, or letting him squish your cheeks without you throwing a tantrum. but after he’d catch on to what was going on, seungkwan would make you sit at the dinner table while frantically looking through the cabinets searching for your favourite ramyeon. after making you some food, and not burning the house down, he’d take you out on a walk around the neighbourhood, your arms linked, while he rambled about all of the funny stuff that happened during practice, to take your mind off of your worries. when you were in baby mode, you and him were like two magnets - you could not be separated, and even if you were, you immediately found your way back to each other.     

❥ vernon 

first of all, it would make him feel so appreciated that you turned to him when you needed to be babied. vernon didn’t get to be the caregiver often, but whenever he’d notice that you needed a bit more comfort and love than usual, he’d try his best, because he wanted to be someone you could always depend on. you’d either do something very calming and relaxing like cuddle under a blanket and watch a movie, or if you were feeling more bold, you’d bake (which with vernon means one thing - a disaster). whatever you decided to do, vernon made sure to always stay by your side, his hand on you hip, because you in baby mode also required him to include a bit more of physical touch, which to be honest he was very grateful for, because usually he was too shy to initiate it himself.  

❥ chan 

he’s been waiting for this. i believe chan thrives off of being the caretaker, so he’d be prepared and ready - pillows stacked up on your bed, comforters to keep you warm, all of your favourite snacks and movies, and his arms to keep you close to his body through the whole night. because he didn’t get to baby you often, he’d make the most out of the times that it happened, and it would honestly make him so so happy that even though you’re this strong and independent person, you still allowed him to take care of you from time to time. he’d finally be able to thank you for all of the times that you had taken care of him.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae

[diejager]

begging for more monster 141🙏🙏🙏

hear me out- reader is a host to venom but has it hidden and they find out maybe…?

(i got hyper fixated on blue’s au and SCOURING the internet💀)

What if… Hunter was Venom?

Pairing: Monster Task Force 141 + König & Horangi x venom reader

Cw: blood and gore, canon typical violence, head eating, gaslighting by Hunter, injury, fighting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.4k

Only Human masterlist

Sometimes, they’d find you mumbling to yourself, voice so low that, unless they were a hybrid or had impeccable hearing, they wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was a ne’er silent whisper of harsh words or soft coos towards a being they couldn’t see. Were you talking to someone on your headset? Were you wearing EarPods to talk to someone? Or had you lost some screws in your mind after working with them for so long? None of them truly knew, but they wouldn’t bother you with it when you never bothered them with pesky questions that sounded insulting to them. After all, why would they bother their adorably useful and resourceful medic? You were the beating heart of the Task Force, you made it whole and functioning. Yet, they couldn’t stop the curiosity that festered in their mind, the need to know what made you talk to yourself, mumbling and cursing when you were alone. 

Nothing seemed out of order, you were still strong-headed and scolding them like you did the day before, mumbling about Soap’s recklessness and Gaz’s impending fate of falling out of airborne vehicles. About Price’s habit of working too hard, pushing his already pained body to work. Pulling Ghost by the - bloody and soiled - sleeve to your infirmary with a deep frown and eyes glinting with the promise of retribution for the hybrid that hid whatever ailed him from you; you were the medic for Pete’s sake! It was your duty to watch over them. Hounding Alejandro for his medical check after a deployment because, as handsome and dependable as he was, he liked hiding his wounds. Running after Rudy for his checkups while he was limping or trying to avoid you. Calling after Horanji for his share of the affection, needle, scalpel, bandage and all, he needed and deserved all the others received. Or sitting beside König, reminiscing about your early days, where taking care of your patients was as easy as taking care of König was, grateful and pliant, showering you with love and adoration before, during and after the procedures. 

You had your plate full with them, so it’d be unheard of if you had time to care for others. You might’ve been a medic on base, but your priorities and loyalties lay with them, with Task Force 141 and its allies. However being a - their - medic, didn’t mean you were free from any pain, fear or quirkiness as they were. You were as weird and as awful as every single one of them was, wearing it pridefully on your chest when you stood with them; even if you were wholly human - or you were supposed to.

Ghost caught fleeting moments where a dark mass would move around you, a glistening blob of marble-like texture with silver rivers running across it. It was near impossible to see it when it would disappear once it felt - even the slightest indication - the presence of another living being, like an illusion of trick of the light. That’s what you told them, it was simply a trick of the light or something because you didn’t know anything about an ugly blob. It was told slowly and persuasively with a wince once the words “ugly blob” left your mouth, a pained grimace as if something was grating your ears or claws were digging into your mind. When he brought it up with Gaz - who had impeccable eye-sight, the harpy would agree, spewing words about it having a menacing face with wide, pointed eyes and a mouth full of teeth. Big and sharp teeth that seemed alien-like. It couldn’t have been the trick of the light, especially since both of them saw the same thing. They asked you once more, together this time, but you’d reassured them that they were both tired when they’d seen this blob. You were tired and sometimes saw moving forms from the corner of your eyes too, so it might’ve been hysteria - collective hysteria.

Soap, if he tried hard enough, would sometimes hear a deep voice echo around you. It wasn’t something disturbingly deep, or annoyingly alien, it was pleasingly deep with a smooth undertone to its growls. It would send chills up his spine when he heard it, but he would always catch your voice talking back to it. He’d hear hisses and curses, some more unusual and others more normal: “I can’t eat my teammates!”, “I told you no!”, “Stop eating heads! People will catch on!” or “Can you shut up?” and “I can’t concentrate with you screaming my head off!” Soap, knowing how good Alejandro’s hearing was, asked if the Mexican had heard you speak with an unknown voice, specifically a male voice. A few muffled conversations between you and an unknown man and sometimes one-sided, but, simply put, Alejandro had witnessed the same occasions as the Scot had. It wasn’t unusual to talk to yourself, would it? Soap liked to boost his own morale with confident words and flattering compliments to himself. Alejandro wasn’t a stranger to mumbling to himself either, cursing his choice in life and how he ended up with his - lovable - problem-causing band of vagabonds.

If you weren’t careful or unintentionally careless, there would be a distinct odour clinging to your skin. It would be strong and pungent, the smell fresh and metallic-like. König knew it well, he craved as much as he wanted to bathe in it, the sweet smell of blood. How could he not recognize the faintest whiff of blood when it often drove him mad with bloodlust and the uncontrollable need to fall into a daze of primal hunger? It stuck to you like a second layer of skin, thin and always present. It sewed into the fundamentals of your scent, the tinge of iron mixed into the sweet, syrupy musk. It drove him mad with need, thirsting for the thing that made you smell so delicious. It clung to you as if you bathed in blood, drinking and devouring it, yet your skin was clean, with no speck of red under your nails, on your skin or between your teeth. In a worry, he went to Price, The Captain had the most knowledge about you and König could trust him to take good care of him, being a dragon. He expected the Brit to know something, even the slightest change, but Price hadn’t caught anything odd about you. Perhaps it clung to you because of your closeness to him, Percht hybrids - although rare - were ferociously unpredictable and ravenously bloodthirsty.

Rudy was the more human of them, so he caught on to the changes in behaviours and habits of others easily. You’d act odd at times, shoulders slightly tense and back slumped inward, body tired but unable to relax. He wanted to help, he proposed, but you’d turned him down, telling him you were fine, that you were just restless from being off duty for so long or for being worked to the bone. He would also catch you subtly avoiding them without ringing any bells, seeming occupied with other things while whispering under your breath; your slower reactions to their banter and the darker bags under your eyes, wearing that dazed and blank look in them while you sat with them; or the strong growl of your stomach and the slight rubbing of your stomach, soothing an ache that rooted so deeply in your abdomen. He worried, often, if he was honest. Even Horangi, a man oblivious to most cues and behaviours in humans, saw the subtle change in your behaviour when you acted odd. He pointed out the rings under your eyes, your fatigued and distracted mind, and your lip-gnawing hunger. For a hybrid that had so much difficulty grasping and understanding humans, he caught on to your change abnormally quickly, even with the excessive chocolate consumption.

They were all suspicious and you, their sweet and convincing medic, had them doubting what they saw, your gaslighting working on them as easily as a child bribed with candy. It didn’t make you feel less guilty or disappointed in yourself, but you weren’t sure how they’d react to him, not being human or a monster. He was a creature out of the pages of a sci-fi novel, a creation of the human mind and imagination. Venom was an alien, something from outer space. You were convincing until you couldn’t anymore.

Let me take over, the soothing voice uttered to you, calling out your name in a concerned tone. Let me protect you.

You were compromised, the enemy had tapped into your line, listening in on your conversations and movements. That’s how they were able to separate most of you, to turn the squad of nine operators down to four smaller teams, all on the run and trying to stick to the shadows without calling to the others through the comms. You were crouched over Gaz, whispering sweet nothings to the hissing man. You soothed his ache, hand and mind strained on the bleeding wound on his forearm, his beautiful, bronze skin stained with crimson in the hot and humid air of Columbia. 

Blood rolled down his tense arm, over his round muscle and sweaty skin, it was a clean graze, the blunt head of the bullet grazing his arm deep enough for it to bleed but shallow enough for it not to leave him incapacitated with blood loss. It was a ray of light in your dreadful situation. You had his wound cleaned and wrapped up, congratulating him for pushing through and helping him up. You cursed the enemy, wondering how the low-stake in-and-out ops suddenly turned out to be an extremely high-stake one with minimal possibility of reaching the evacuation point. 

“C’mon Gaz, we need to move,” you whispered to him, holding your rifle closely to your chest while you walked around the shadows of Guaitarilla’s back alley and dark corners. “We need to regroup at the evacuation point.”

“Yeah, good plan,” he nodded, following your lead even though he was higher-ranked than you, but in such situations, survival was the priority. 

You stuck to alleys, using the shadows to hide from the patrolling cartel that had the town surrounded, it nearly baffled you with the speed of their defences and counter-attack if you hadn’t heard of Las Almas’ attack from El Sin Nombre and The Shadows from you teammates. Although you couldn’t admire them, you could respect their skills and ability, you only wished it was for you rather than against you. 

While you watched ahead, Gaz had your back, peering around the corner before giving him the green to move. It was a rotation between who went first and who looked back, but you made it work with only you both. You were so careful, yet it somehow wasn’t enough, someone had noticed you and it sent you and Gaz rushing for cover, to escape the group of dispatched cartel members. It was stupid, running without looking where you were heading towards. It was stupid to let the enemy tap into your comms. It was stupid, the situation you got yourself into. 

You were backed into a corner, Gaz standing before you like a protective shield between you and the enemy, his rifle pointed toward the quickly advancing group. You wanted to protest about him using his wings to cover you, his wide, brown feathers expanded to hide you from those men. He was already hurt from pulling you away from harm, but he was now standing protectively before you. You couldn’t let him get hurt because of you, not anymore. 

Little One, his voice rang once more in your head, the reassuring pressure of his presence in your body calming you down by an inch. Let me take over.

If you let him take control of your body, it would ensure your and Gaz’s safety, then you could reach the others that you’d lost in the chaos of the battle. While you wore the combat medic’s patch proudly, your prior training before taking up your 16 weeks of medical training wasn't lost to you. You remembered how to aim and shoot, how to snipe an enemy from afar and protect your teammates from whatever danger you faced. None were lost to you, and you’d use every bit of training you had to protect them, whether it was as yourself or with Venom’s help. Venom’s help was undoubtedly useful, and right now, you needed him.

“Please, Venom,” you spoke aloud, your soft voice carrying through the blocked alley. 

“Who-” Gaz asked, confusion laced his tone, the question left unspoken as Venom’s deep, rattling voice boomed across the tight space.

“We are Venom, flesh bag,” he growled, body crouching down, not dissimilar to a feline laying prone while it waited for the right moment to attack, and pounced at the men.

Don’t call Gaz flesh bag, Venom, you whined, your voice echoing in your shared subspace of your mind.

“If that is what you wish.”

His heavy mass landed on a man, pushing him to the ground with a loud crack. You imagined that Venom either broke his back or a few of the Colombian’s ribs, it was sickeningly delightful, the sadistic pleasure from Venom sent you reading with mirth. His hands stretched to abnormal lengths to swing at the enemies with practised ease and familiarity. Whether they’d die from blunt force trauma from Venom’s strength or live with a concussion, none mattered to him, hunger raked his being, the throb aching in the back of his mind. It was a moment where he was let loose, where you wouldn’t need to gorge on an extreme amount of chocolate to keep him fed. This would keep him satisfied for a few weeks. 

Venom pulled the first two in, his jaw widening to clamp down on their neck. Gaz saw the dangerous gleam of Venom’s teeth, rows of pristine and immaculate teeth the size of a finger bled the man’s head red in a single bite. He shivered at the decapitated body that fell from your monster’s hand as he went for the second and third Colombian. He made a show of viciousness and raw, unadulterated bloodthirst with his eating. Fortunately, apart from the bloody mess and dead bodies, Venom was a relatively neat eater, licking his teeth clean from the red stains with a long, slimy tongue. Gaz couldn’t shake how your monster made him apprehensive, his body flinching and trembling at the greater being.

“Let’s go, The Little One wants to rescue the others,” Venom’s grating voice shook Gaz out of his stupor.

“Hu-Hunter’s there?”

Venom nodded, his mass retreating into your body, the mass melting into you like a second skin. It was as if Venom was never there, as if it was all his delusional imagination. Gaz rushed to you, his hands grabbing hold of you as he shook you in his grasp, he cursed in worry, concern lacing every word he spewed in a tornado of fear, curiosity and confusion. His soft feathered wings cradled you, casting a protective shadow over you as you hid in the darkness of the alley. 

“Gaz, we have to go,” you murmured to him, your voice soft and reassuring, trying to help him walk off the edge you were pushed to. You both were safe for now, the cartel that had followed you all laid dead without their heads in a thick puddle of their viscera. “We have to find the others.”

He let out a shaky sign, his head nodding in affirmation at your comforting words. He loved that about you, that ability to heal and mend their ache and anguish with a smile and sweet words. Then, pairing your softness with your stubborn viciousness made you a gem within the military, a one-in-a-million for them. Yet, all that clouded his mind were questions, about your safety, about that monster that melted into you, about what kind or what it was. Gaz had so many questions that he’d push back for the greater good of rescuing the rest of the Task Force, he’d hound you for answers later when everyone was back together. 

When Venom resurfaced, retaking control of your shared body, he’d reassured you that he knew where they were, his body being hyper-aware of the things that made you smile and laugh. You were his host and his joy. It was an easier job than the two of you - you and Gaz - had expected, Venom’s claws digging into the buildings as he scaled the walls to reach the roof. From then, he pulled nothing back, rushing forward with the same enthusiasm as König had when he led first, and leaped, the muscles of his legs pushing him high across the buildings with Gaz flying beside him. 

Venom had made quick work of the situation, his body invulnerable to anything but loud sounds and fire, which none had since it was a rainy night. You found Horangi and Alejandro first, Venom doing what he knew best: protecting you, in relation, what you loved too, and feeding on human heads, the chemicals in the human brains nurturing him. Alejandro and Horangi were naturally confused and distrustful of Venom, but you had Gaz to smooth things over, and knowing that Venom’s way of speaking was curt and up-to-point - annoyingly blunt - it made your body soar with relief. They, albeit confused and curious, followed you from the ground as Venom cleared a path to the next ones.

Price, Rudy and Soap were the biggest team from your unexpected separation. They jumped at Venom’s appearance, Soap throwing threats at him when he took a step towards them. That was expected, Venom - even being the symbiote you were hosting - was a stranger to them and Soap reacted according to his instincts. That blaring, red light that signalled his brain to send his body on complete guard about the danger, Venom couldn’t escape a werewolf’s keen situational awareness. You’d taken the initiative to calm them down, seeing as everyone was already down,  the enemy loaded with bullets and dying in a pool of their blood. You kept the explanation short and simple, giving them the important points before promising to tell Price everything he wanted to know after you found Ghost and König.

Those two were harder to find, forcing Venom to extend himself to sense the slightest presence of either man. It couldn't be easier that Ghost was a wraith, being able to disappear and appear at will and that König knew very well how to hide, perhaps as well as Ghost could. When Venom found them, Ghost shot first, “shoot first, questions later” seemed to lead his decisions with König not far behind him. He brought his arms forward to protect himself and you, hidden within his mass. Venom growled but didn’t attack them, hissing the words you spoke to him to them. It was a simple quote that you’d shared with them in situations where they needed to find you between the hostages or under disguise. 

Like calls to like.

It was simple, but telling. They stopped the moment Venom uttered them, knowing well you were inside Venom, Gaz landing before him and the others steadily arriving behind the two. Task Force 141 was finally complete, from the most humane to the most chaotic hybrid, some were hurt, grazed, protrusions, and stabbed, but all were alive. You were glad, you were really, really happy that everyone was safe and alive.

Seated in the Razor, the silence and tension were thick within the cargo hold, Horangi and Gaz framing your sides with Price taking the seat across from you. You could see the stress and tension rolling off his shoulder after treating everyone, his brows furrowed and a frown curled his lips under his beard. Beside him was Alejandro and Ghost, both - like everyone else - wearing a confused and disgruntled expression on their face, their eyes gleaming with questions left unsaid. You’d left them wondering if their minds were playing tricks on them, if they were seeing things, if they were imagining things and if they were losing their minds. You understood the anger, but you had your reasons to hide Venom’s existence.  

Price crossed his arms, legs spread wide as he leaned back, his head tipped back with an inquisitively serious look. He raised a brow at you, waiting to see if you could prove your case or if you had anything to add before he started. With nothing to say, you bit your bottom lip, your shoulders screwed with anxiety and fear. You didn’t know what to expect now that your well-kept secret was out. 

“We have a lot to talk about, Hunter.”

“I know, Captain.”

Better sooner than later, leaving it to fester and grow would be bad for the TF’s morale and relations. 

Taglist:  @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness

[presleyluvschris]

Hey I got a request for jj

That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense

Koala Care

dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter

a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!

desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time

wc 1.2k

warnings cursing, grammar, fluff

"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.

The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.

He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.

"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.

"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."

John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.

"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.

"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."

He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.

"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"

JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."

John B turns his head around and gives him a look.

"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.

JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.

"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."

John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."

JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"

John b slaps his forehead.

"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"

JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.

"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.

John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."

"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."

"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.

"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.

He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.

"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"

you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.

"Hmmm fine. it was busy."

"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."

You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"

"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.

"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.

You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.

"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."

He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.

He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.

"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.

After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.

Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.

He reaches his hands out, then stops.

"God damnit," He sighs.

"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."

"Fuck this."

He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."

He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.

"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.

"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.

"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"

It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.

He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.

"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.

You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.

"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.

"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.

You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.

"She has your lips."

JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.

A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.

John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.

Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.

He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.

JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.

but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.

☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie

my navigation ♡

[kyuuppi]

HEAR ME OUT. Genshin Men as your ex, like what would they do during the healing process? Would they beg for you back, try to get you jealous, etc.

I LOVE UR WRITING AND FORMAT XX YOU'RE LITERALLY AMAZING.

Ft. Zhongli; Xiao; Tighnari; Scaramouche

⚠️tw: manipulation (Scaramouche); bad end/angst (Xiao; Zhongli)

Every cell in my body resisting the urge to make them yandere–

⭐ Zhongli

To be frank, Zhongli is no stranger to the end of relationships.

Having lived through several millennia, Zhongli has watched many friends, enemies, and lovers come and go. 

The moment he met you, he already knew you would someday be the same–such is the nature of mortality.

No matter how much he loved you, you would one day become yet another bittersweet memory–the type that makes his chest ache in the latest hours of the night while the rest of the harbor is sleeping.

Zhongli knew your departure from his life was inevitable…

But he didn’t expect to have to say goodbye so soon–let alone voluntarily.

“I love you, Zhongli. I really do but… we’re just too different. A former archon and a human just weren’t meant to be together. I’m sorry.”

Words he had never dreamed of fall from your lips easily. You had rehearsed it for a while.

He is internally distraught - his chest aches in a way he is not quite familiar with and, for once, he does not know what to say. 

He politely lets you leave - says that he understands and expresses his desire to remain amicable if you will allow it but will keep his distance if that is what you prefer.

He will always be available to share some advice over a cup of tea or osmanthus wine if you should ever need it. The unwritten contract between the of you – the favor and support of a former archon – is unconditional. 

You may find yourself shocked at how easily he lets you go –whether or not you are pleased by it depends on the nature of your true feelings.

Zhongli’s warm smiles and calming words will always remain, albeit now polite rather than intimate.

Outsiders who were unfamiliar with the nature of your previous relationship will not even notice the difference.

It is only a select few - Xiao, a few other adepti, and perhaps the funeral director – who see how the once smoldering embers in Zhongli’s steady gaze have been smothered.

It is only in the darkest hours of night, alone in his study, that Zhongli allows himself to wonder if his divinity is a blessing or a curse.

“It is unfortunate that our journey together must come to an end so soon. I have very much enjoyed our time together and appreciated the honor of witnessing your glory so closely. I will not burden you with my presence but… if you should ever need my assistance or desire my companionship, it is always yours.”

⭐ Xiao

Never in a thousand years would Xiao have imagined he would have someone to call his own.

After centuries of abuse–both inflicted upon him and from him - Xiao had sworn to never put himself in a position that vulnerable again. He will never let someone get close enough to hurt him or be hurt.

Nevertheless, you appeared in his life and shattered every expectation he had ever set.

Through sheer persistence, you smashed your way through his every wall and stole his heart as your own.

You had created an inseverable bond between you two…

...but now you wanted to sever it.

“I don’t think we can be together anymore, Xiao. You have a duty to protect Liyue and that is your top priority. You are tethered to this place. But I want to explore new places… and new people. I’m sorry, Xiao.”

His first reaction is anger, the type that flashed white hot in his gut and burns through his veins.

He did not seek you out – you were the one who forced your way into his life.

No matter how often he rejected you, how much he tried to avoid you, you had repeatedly interjected your way into his routine, bringing him plates of almond tofu and sharing stories of you adventure he had never asked about.

You created the habit for him. You made him expect your presence every day. You gave him new experiences and made him feel things he never knew possible. You made him love you in ways he had never imagined himself capable of–

–only to rip it all away. 

He should have known he was not good enough - he was always just a weapon, a tool, wasn’t he? It is only natural that you would use him too–and that he would one day become useless.

He leaves without a word.

For you, it is almost as if you had imagined his whole existence.

He no longer waits for you atop Wangshu Inn. You no longer feel the sense of someone watching–protecting–you while you take commissions around Liyue. 

 The only indication you have that you had not dreamt the whole thing is the occasional story random citizens, claiming to have been saved from a lawachurl by a ghost with yellow eyes.

You think Xiao has forgotten your entire existence. He disappears from your life so easily.

But to Xiao, it is not easy at all. 

His every thought is plagued by you to the point he wonders if you placed a curse upon him.

While the memory of you once eased his karmic debt, now it only seems to fuel it.

The voices taunt him, remind him of how worthless he is, even to his own lover.

You’re only a weapon of destruction – of course no one would want to be with you. You could never make anyone happy. You can only bring pain.

He suffers alone, brushing off the concern of the other adepti and even Zhongli when his karmic debt seems to get worse, his breakdowns more frequent and more intense than ever before/

It is only when you call his name - whether because you miss him or because you are in danger, than he will allow himself to see you again.

But even as he stands before you, he will not make eye contact.

Not because he does not want to see you but because he does not trust himself to act reasonably if he does.

“Even if the… nature of our relationship has changed, our bond still remains… what I mean is, if you are ever in danger, you should still call my name. I will always protect you...”

⭐ Tighnari

Um… this dude mates for life, how could you do this to him???

Similar to Xiao, he initially just gets kind of angry.

He told you how serious this is for him, how much relationships mean to fennec foxes.

He had asked you over and over again if you were sure before making your relationship official and you had assured him that you were. You said forever.

You had known each other for years before - you knew his personality and his habits. You knew being a forest watcher was his top priority and how long he spent on patrols - nothing has changed so why are your feelings changing?

“I’m sorry, Tighnari, I just… I don’t think I can live like this forever. Working in the forest together was a fun way to pass time but I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore.“

He tries to talk it through - he wants to be logical and compromise with you. He asks you to set boundaries and be specific about your needs so that he has the chance to try to meet them - he will do anything to make this work, you just need to tell him what you need.

But you insist there’s nothing he can do, and without a proper explanation, you leave him behind.

It is easy to fall back into old routines and habits. Even if his lover is gone, the forest never rests.

He goes back to his patrols and reports and lectures – everything is the same as before yet it all feels completely wrong.

The days he used to look forward to – eagerly learning more about the forest he loved and sharing his findings with other curious minds – now feel like little more than a waste of time.

His passion is gone, the once burning desires now doused and his mind is only plagued with memories of you.

Quiet moments late at night in his tent are the worst. 

His bed feels uncharacteristically cold and empty without you in it. The calm night is much too quiet when your voice is not there to hum a tune you heard at the market.

“You’re being incredibly selfish right now – our relationship may be just a way to pass time for you but for me – it's all or nothing. There was no one before you and there will be no one after you. We made a commitment to each other and we need to stick it out. So tell me exactly what the problem is so we can work on it and fix it. Together. We have a whole lifetime to figure this out so don’t just give up on us so easily.”

⭐ Scaramouche

You have to be insane to leave this man - and not just ‘cause he is hot.

If you made it far enough for Scaramouche to let you into his heart, you already know his past. You know what has happened to him and how he feels about people leaving.

There is absolutely no way this will go well for either of you.

Once his heart is broken his immediate response is vengeance and retaliation.

If you think you are leaving him behind – betraying him like everyone else in his life – you have got another think coming.

“I’m serious, scaramouche. I don’t want this anymore. We’re just not meant for each other.”

“Ha– you think you have a choice? I must not have made myself clear – you are mine and you are not going anywhere without me.”

lol oops I made it yandere

While much less openly accommodating as Tighnari, Scaramouche is still willing to listen to your complaints and try to find a solution.

Although he’s possessive and a bit blinded by his own feelings, Scaramouche truly does love you and will do anything he can to make you happy–but only if you are happy with him.

If you physically leave, he will follow you. If you try to find someone else, he is not above getting rid of them. 

Once you enter a relationship with Scaramouch, for as long as the two of you are alive, you will be with each other.

“Do you finally understand? Good. Taking care of those mortal men you wanted to hang around with was starting to become tedious."

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Lich-Queen, pt 6

(Fair warning: this is gory) If you want to read the rest of the series, you'll find links in the pinned post on my blog!

This time, my entry into the hall was triumphant, complete with fanfare. The highest nobles of Ceredell hauled the doors open like common slaves, and they pressed their once vibrant lips to trumpets. Hundreds of men and women turned at the sight of me, and a wave of clapping descended upon me. I flicked a manic curtsey, then gestured at the table before me, laid out as if for a buffet.

“Let me honour you all with a gift,” I announced. “Come, watch the death of the last nobleman of fallen Ceredell!”

A revenant wheeled Tamaris out. He was splayed on a board, arms spread apart. His face was white with agony, legs twisted. I tsked at him, inspecting his bonds. “Looks like your wings have crumpled, my butterfly,” I whispered. “I wish it could have been different.”

Tamaris met my eyes, and my half-dead heart crumpled to see the love in his gaze. “It is not too late, Ire,” he said. “Do not do this. Do not succumb.” His fingers twitched in my direction, an open hand offering forgiveness.

“It is you people who should apologise,” I hissed, slapping that hand. “I am taking my blood-right.” Turning to the audience, I said, “Let us begin our last course!”

Tamaris froze, finally understanding. I took the knife from Death-in-me, placing it along his chest. “I love you,” I said, loud enough for all to hear me. “And I will make you love me too.”

Then I began carving him alive. I started with the skin, peeling it from his ribs like lifting the skin off a potato. Tamaris howled in agony, his voice touching the heavens. My orchestra matched him, starting up an accompaniment of strings and bass.

Blood blossomed like a rose, painting my gloves crimson as I lovingly opened up his flesh for the world to see. His wings formed, dripping red as my butterfly of torment emerged from his chrysalis.

With my magic, I kept him alive beyond the bounds of humanity. As I hacked out his ribs, pulling the first hunk of meat and placing it on a plate, I was struck by the beauty of his face. Even weeping, eyes bulging, nails ripped off from clawing at wood, there was a noble gallance to him. I smiled, and tenderly tore out another rib.

His wails did not stumble, did not falter, even as the delicious scent of grilled Tamaris emanated from below my stage. I unravelled his intestines, the grey ropes spilling out, as the first of my new allies feasted on my love. His offal was affectionately wrapped around my arms, draped about me like a stole. Extracting his lungs, I regretfully turned his insides over to the grill for my guests.

His kidneys were next, laid out beside a leaky liver. With delicate care, I had left his heart framed in the hollow cave of his torso, like a singular rose in a vase. It pulsated and pumped, alien and oh-so-familiar.

Viscera dripped onto the floor with wet splotches, and I could not help but giggle. The power I held in my hands, to feast upon my own beloved's flesh, to create this masterpiece of butchery… It was, for lack of a better word, aortic.

I stuck my claws into his chest cavity and ripped out his heart, leaving him dependent on my necromancy to live. He was mine, once and for all. I raised my fist triumphantly, still-beating heart in my hands. The mass below me fell silent, the music fading, even Tamaris' ululations reduced to noiseless croaks.

“Know that I am Queen,” I announced to them, to my new allies. “I rule!” Words deserted me in my ecstasy, and I released a scream. It bounced off the walls and dug into my chest, no trace of the human I had once been within it.

My people let out a full-chested cheer, like the eruption of a volcano. A thousand voices held testament to my crown. I turned to Tamaris. His eyes begged me to stop this madness. 

Spoilsport.

I kissed him passionately, lips touching his, coaxing his tongue out. The rusty taste of his mouth made my dead heart race, a virgin on her wedding night. I closed my eyes, pulling him closer with an assertive arm. For one moment, we could be on the wedding altar.

But that moment ended. I closed my jaws on his tongue, sharp teeth severing it, and ripped it out. Blood gushed in the air as I gulped the slippery flesh down. “Ahh,” I sighed tenderly. Sensually, I ran my claws around the orbitals of his eyes, tracing his eyelid, probing at his eyeball. It popped out with breathtaking ease, and I devoured the gooey feast.

Placing his heart to my lips, I kissed it lovingly. My tongue delved into the gaping arteries, devouring it. Tangy flavour exploded on my tongue, and I basked in its divinity. 

Was there any act more intimate than cannibalism? I could not think of anything. Those haunted sockets of his, mouth hanging slack, gory and broken beyond repair, held a bond deeper than any ring or vow. 

This was true love. 

I threw my head and laughed. Snapping my fingers, I severed my magic and his bonds at once. My love fell like a ragdoll, discarded and worthless. The ghouls would fix up all the remnants and serve it to my guests.

As I began walking away, the last dregs of my humanity compelled me to stop. I turned back, grabbed the hollow of his throat lightly, and whispered, “Have your eternal peace, my love. ‘Tis the least you deserve.” 

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) Chapter 9

“Can I help you?”

This person was not someone you knew. He looked about your age with dark eyes and similar dark hair. He was dressed in a red shirt with dark jeans. The little writing on his clothing read Laserbeak. 

A brand you weren’t exactly familiar with.

“I’m Daniel Beak."

There was something menacing about his energy. Maybe you were just imagining it.

“I moved in down the street and I was just getting acquainted with my neighbors.” Your grandmother caught the ending of that conversation.

“A new friend, why don’t you stay for dinner!”

“Grandma!”

She obviously hadn’t seen an episode of criminal minds.

“Oh relax sweetheart he’s new. Remember how put out you were when you first came. Please come in.”

He offered a smile and you moved to the side to let him in. As you’re about to close the door, your eyes catch a figure down the road. He was just standing there. When your eyes connected with Bee’s sapphire ones, you felt a harsh throb in your chest. 

He looked so hurt, devastated. From his slightly disheveled look it was clear that he’d run all the way from who knows where. You held a gaze for a few moments, right before your eyes lowered and you turned your back, closing the door.

~~~

Dinner continued without a hitch. You would have been thankful for the company of a new friend if not for the serious energy you were getting from this boy. As an aspiring scientist the only thing you could really depend on outside of science was your gut. It never really steered you wrong. After all, you did find the aliens.

That’s why as you smiled and joked with Daniel, you kept a close eye on him.

Maybe it was just paranoia. You had just survived a terrifying attack.

As the sun began to set, you cleaned the table, and your grandmother held a plate for Daniel to take home.

“Please stop by again. We love the company.”

He nodded.

“Thank you for having me. I guess I’ll be heading out. “

“Wait Daniel, do you mind if I walk you back?”

He looks eager.

“Of course not, thank you.” 

His smile was wide, and you waved to your grandmother as you exited the house.

“So what brought you all the way to Los Angeles. It must be lonely living on your own.”

“I enjoy the solitude, no parents to tell you what to do. I was fortunate to get independence at my age. I pretty much take care of myself.”

You walk in step with him, trying to get something, anything that would point to why you felt unnerved around this stranger who appeared harmless. It dawned on you that maybe you should have grabbed something to defend yourself in case he turned out to be a psycho.

He lived a few blocks down, and when he turned in the gate, you stood there.

“Well I guess I’ll see you at school.” You place the most convincing smile on your face that you can. He returns it, hand brushing your arm. You don’t think much of it.

“See you later (Y/N).”

You nod a bit awkwardly watching him enter the house. When he’s out of sight, you turn around heading back.

You only make it two steps before you feel a pull in your chest. Your feet stagger, and you look down at your hands in shock.

“What.. the hell..”

The blue glow that is reflected off your veins is not what you expect. Your heart rate increases and you pull down the sleeves of your sweater, running back to your house.

Daniel grins from his spot in the upstairs window.

“Let the games begin.” 

[sonicasura]

Watched Transformers Rise of the Beasts yesterday so why not have two Transformers flavored Trollhunters scenarios?

Troll or More?

Jim is a Cybertronian that accidentally ends up on Earth during the Arthurian Period when he was just a Sparkling. The misplaced child scans a peculiar depiction of a troll to serve as his beast mode. Jim thinks he's one since they're the only species close to him in retrospect. I.e made of inorganic material such as stone even though he's metal.

Depiction is Beast Jim in design since it honestly feels perfect for this scenario albeit with some minor changes like his hair being Troll Jim's in a more mullet like mane. His armor plating resembles a kilt, arm brace like gauntlets that conceal blades on the side, his spikes are actually pieces to collapsible saber and bow. The drawing in this scenario is actually a jab at King Arthur for his inhuman cruelty towards magic and magical folk.

Jim's true form resembles canon Troll Jim even to his plates mimicking the Eclipse armor albeit dark blue in color instead of black. He usually stays in beast form since it's better to navigate smaller places than constantly crouching or crawling in normal form.

There are shared traits between both. Jim's horns have hollow tips that shoot out smoke to even fire depending on his temper or if he uses a lot of energy. His later vehicle form added tires to the elbows and thighs, car doors for bladed shoulder pad, while the chest plate now has blacked out windows that faintly show the glow of Jim's spark.

Jim doesn't really fit in with the locals as many saw him to be unnatural. Even trolls who either fled or at worst chased the poor boy away with extreme violence. There is one, well, two people who weren't afraid: Douxie and Archie.

Both eventually bump into each other. An encounter that leads to a powerful brotherly bond between the three. One day, they find out Jim can not only survive on a mysterious energy(Energon) but he can live off of ambient magic in the air. Things are good until Merlin discovers the Cybertronian and chases him away much to the other two's horror upon finding out later.

Jim sneaks onto a boat that leads to what would be North America. From there, he became a roaming vagabond who travels across the two continents. Jim inspired plenty of legends or cryptid sightings by accident but his most well-known being the "Night Hauler".

A car carrier type truck that appears at night and has the visage of a monster in the driver seat. Some reports said a large 'beast' rides on the back waiting to hitch a unlucky car for a trip to hell. This was Jim being a little shit as someone tried to break into him once. He just copied a normal one car tow truck though his Beast Alt gave this form some monstrous flairs.

Jim ends up in Arcadia 10 years before the events of Trollhunters. He hides out at a car business and is accidentally purchased by one Barbara Lake. She, of course, discovers her new truck actually being a teenage Cybertronian when Jim decides to give the woman the ride of her life.

The common (unspoken) tradition throughout the series where the unlucky human gets taken on an extreme ride by their soon to be protector. Barbara's was no exception as Jim took her EVERYWHERE. Across the roads, over bridges and even down a rocky cliff like a literal highway to hell.

He expected to scare Barbara off with this but he gets scolded instead. Even when Jim goes into Beast mode in an attempt to intimidate her, she just gives him the mom look. Curiosity overriding common sense leads to the young Cybertronian to become Barbara's protector.

Jim won't be the Trollhunter despite how funny that will be. It's Strickler as our robot boy is completely unaware about trolls being in Arcadia. The soon to be Avocado Dad is trying to figure out what to do during a date and accidentally discovers his girlfriend's car is alive. Jim still befriends Toby and gets adopted by everyone's favorite doctor.

What is different is that he reunites with Douxie who also gets brought into the Lake Family alongside Archie. Jim still a professional chef as the house was remodeled to have taller ceilings then just be reinforced alongside the stairs. Plus he's very stubborn even when he kept shattering eggs at the beginning. The boy is gonna take care of his human mother and new siblings, damnit!

Will any other Cybertronians show up? Yes but probably after Trollhunters or during S3. No clashes between Autobots and Decepticons until later however Jim does meet an Autobot that brings a startlingly revelation.

Overall one hell of a ride from start to finish. What continuity I will use is unknown though. 🤔

My Motorcycle Is A Robot

When Jim is six years old, a friend of his mom drops off a strange black and gold motorcycle as a gift. At first Barbara didn't want it until she figures it could be Jim's when he gets his driver's license. (In California, the lowest driving age is sixteen with the right requirements.)

On one fateful night, Jim and his best friend find out the motorcycle is actually a Autobot by the name of Prowl. (Yes! It's Prowl from Transformer Animated! He ended up in the Trollhuntersverse after the series finale for the show.)

The three become friends with the ninja becoming the protector for both families. Barbara doesn't find out about Prowl until she is chosen to be the next Trollhunter. Jim had accidentally eavesdropped on her first encounter with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH.

Thus he becomes a vigilante to help his mom albeit with Toby immediately following alongside Prowl. Although the cat is out of the bag when Nomura comes over to assassinate Jim. (Both boys sneak into the museum like in canon but to retrieve Prowl's keepsake than take out goblins.)

The Cybertronian and Draal bump into each other as they go to repel the Changeling assassin. Can I just say it was completely awkward between everyone once they could discuss the massive revelation in safety? At least the three are now part of the team.

Draal gets adopted alongside Prowl by Barbara since the two are still considered 'young' despite the vast difference in age. Jim ends up becoming half troll as he dives after his mother in the 'House Divided' episode. Merlin had exploited her love towards her three sons so she follows through with it.

(Prowl shows up instead of Draal so he avoids the brainwashing and canon death. The Cybertronian knows what his troll brother's mindset would lead to disaster without any interference. Angor Rot falls under Gunmar's command early to make up for the change.)

Like with Troll or More, Autobots alongside Decepticons will show up. When it happens is most likely during the Eternal Night with just an Autobot. I don't know which continuity though as much as I love a reunion for Prowl and his old companions, a fresh start would be better.

It's either the movieverse set up by Bumblebee, Transformers Cybertron, Prime albeit with certain parts cut off or something else since I haven't watched any new Transformers yet.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, Autobots roll out and I'll see you back in Arcadia! Here's Prowl, w/o his keepsake Yokotron's Helmet, from Transformers Animated for anyone who hasn't seen the show!

[proceduralpassion]

One Uniform

Day 16 of Narcoctober- Create a fanwork that focuses on dreams, either literal or metaphorical

Character(s): Trujillo

WC: 928

A/N: Trujillo in his Ratatouille era>>>

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. Trujillo comes from a line of police officers all throughout his family. His highest goal was to see one of Colombia’s most evil forces in the grave. Even afterwards, he maintains the same dedication and commitment to protecting his home and ridding it of the people who seek to exploit and cripple it. But Trujillo has always had a second love.

He’s left home alone by himself for the first time when he’s nine years old. His mother had set out of bread and butter for him to make his own breakfast, but he craved for something more and the world- kitchen- was his oyster. 

He puts the plain bread up and grabs some arepas from near the fridge. He inspects his artillery of ingredients and procures an egg and some chorizo that his dad bought in bulk and stored in the freezer. There’s some leftover beans and rice from dinner last night, so the young boy decides that he’s going to make himself some calentado for breakfast. It’s a dish associated with memories of his grandparents who live in the Andean region and cooked this up for him every morning when he was on break for the holidays. 

He grabs two pans and sears up the rice and beans in random spices he grabs off the shelf in one pan and uses the other to fry his egg. He laughs to himself in enjoyment as he maneuvers between the two apparatuses, feeling a comforting flutter as he cooks the food that will nourish him. He fries up the sausage last and puts everything together on one plate, adding some avocado and cilantro as garnish. 

He eats his food with pride and while there’s nothing like the comfort linked with eating his mother’s cooking, he feels a different kind of spark of joy as he finishes his meal.

Trujillo takes over a lot of the cooking for the family when his dad dies. His mother had already been carrying shell shock for two years after his oldest brother was killed in the line of duty. She’s a shell of a person now and even going through the motions takes so much energy out of her. He’s eighteen and in the thick of his training, complete with a bunch of unforeseen responsibilities from an administrative role. Even still, cooking is one thing he can take off his mother’s plate and he comes to realize that cooking is also the only time in his busy life that finds peace and solitude.

He gets shot in the chest during the capture of their most recent target. The vest prevents mortal damage, but the impact left him with a severe enough injury that part of his lung had to be resected. He’s told in the process of rehab that he’ll most likely be moved to a more administrative position due to the limitations that come with less breathing capacity. It’s a blow to his ego, initially. To be told in subtle terms that he was now inadequate to be in the field, to no longer be viewed as a dependent, boots on the ground, kinda soldier. 

His new position has him working normal hours which means more time on his hands. Weekends off. One of his colleagues gives him a gift certificate for a cooking class at one of the nearby culinary schools as a birthday present and he makes plans to attend one on a Friday night after he’s finished with work for the day.

The lesson is Cuban-themed and consists of a three course meal tutorial complete with tostones, ropa vieja with rice, and pastelitos de guayaba. 

Perhaps, not coincidentally, Trujillo finds that he’s at peace with himself so much more now than he has in a long time. He comes from a line of police officers including his father, brothers, uncles, and both grandfathers. It’s all he’s ever wanted to pursue even with his passion and love for cooking. But he’s served his country for nearly two decades now and is proud of the accomplishments he’s made to better it. His father, brothers, and Carrillos’ death have left pin-sized holes in his heart that haven’t ever quite fully sealed up, even after all these years. He’s physically given about all that he can give to his job.

As he kneads through the dough for his pastries, wearing an apron and toque, he considers that maybe he wasn’t meant to wear only one uniform for all of his life. 

He’s fought the good fight. He’s sacrificed again and again. He’s been broken down.  He’s picked himself back up. He’s had losses. He’s had wins. He regrets none of it. He’s at peace with even the hardest trials he’s experienced. 

He’s lived a full life and he still has so much more to live. So much more to experience. So much more pain. So much more passion. 

Trujillo doesn’t think he’s at his most useful where he is right now. He can say that to himself now without feeling prideful or less of a soldier. He’s made the biggest mark he can already make and now it’s time for the old guard to part ways.

It’s a minute thought that springs up when he’s first told that his raid days are over. But he’s okay to let it grow and fester now. Because maybe he’s not running away from everything he’s ever known. Maybe he’s running towards the first day of the rest of his life.

Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist! Taglist: @drabbles-mc @asirensrage @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord

[answersfromzestual]

I was wondering if you had any advice on being stealth in long term relationships? My partner and I have been together for 4 years and he knows I'm trans ,obviously, but his family does not.

So, I have a question, have they met you before and if so, how did you present then?

Being stealth in relationships can be hard. But it's all about the confidence about presenting as male. My first relationship on T, her parents had no idea we were together for about four years.

My wife's family does not know I am trans whatsoever, I even lived with them for about a year, through my urethra lengthening surgery as well.

So I guess now I think, it's also about what you choose to tell people. No one will be (hopefully) joining you in the bathroom to peek at your junk.

So my first relationship aligned with being young and being still an age where your voice changes, and you have little facial hair.

But when you are older those changes are harder to hide I would imagine... so depending on your age and stage my advice may or may not be of use to you.

Binding: I told people the shirts/ binders were, basically, shapewear. I said it makes me look thinner, this was full length. My half binder was found once by first gf's sister in my backseat, we told her it keeps compression over my chest plate because of a birth defect. (I was like 20), it was never talked about again. This was a UBER relgious family as well.

You can say you had delayed puberty or something like that, age pending, or something similar. Google is a useful tool.

Being stealth doesn't go without its complications. You have to be able to remember every single lie, stretched truth, etc. to pull it off.

I tell people my scar on my forearm is from a burn

I have bladder issues, so it was also easy when I needed my urethra lengthening to make an excuse of "a kidney stone damaged some of my urethra so it needs to be repaired" type thing.

My chest, I lost 1 ¾ of my nipples, so I had them tattooed on after I got "clearance" from the doctor. I found an amazing artist that did a great job. My scars from my chest have faded enough that if you aren't right up in my face or looking/know about them, no one can really see them. Plus I worked out my chest a TON before surgery and still, so the tone helps too. I also was sure to wait to go outside without a shirt and to get tattoos.

I tell people that my scars are from a dramatic weight loss and I needed skin removed.

I was single during my first phase of phallo, so I don't know what to say there. You won't be out of bed much at all.

TLTR: find clever lies/ variants of the truth, make them simple to remember. And just be confident in your gender presentation.

I had a hard time with this one, so I apologize if I missed things, or said something wrong, worded something badly.

Stay Golden ✌️ 💙 💜

[martianbugsbunny]

Who Makes You See Color (A CaptainCroc Soulmates AU Fic): Chapter 10

Howdy, dearies! Anyone who reads this fic is living large (or so I assume) but I pity the poor suckers who wander aimlessly into the Rumple or Hook tags and find this with no context. Although, if I could get some converts by accident, I wouldn’t complain. I’ve reached the point where I’m going down with the ship, but it could use a decent crew.

Whatever. No matter how you ran across this fic, be it finding this chapter or being in it from the beginning or somewhere in between, it’s yours for the reading. Tags: @wastingstarsss Enjoy!

Roger sighed as he stretched out on his mattress. His houseboat was nothing special; it was patched up with tape, definitely not seaworthy, and the paint was chipped, but it was one of only two things he had that actually belonged to him.

The frameless mattress? Stolen from someone’s curb before the garbage truck could pick it up. His plates? Pilfered from stores around town. His clothes? Those he’d gotten mostly from robbing Kathryn Nolan’s house, before her husband woke up. That was among the few jobs he hadn’t gotten busted for.

The other thing, besides the ship, that was really his, was a vest. He’d had it…well, he didn’t know how many years, but it had been a long time, and he didn’t remember taking it from anyone, so it must be his. It was faux-crocodile skin (or at least he thought it was faux) and a fine shade of red that alternated between bright and dark depending on how the light hit it. He rarely wore it, because it didn’t match his other clothes, but knowing it hung in his closet just made him feel better.

He couldn’t sleep, so he got up and went out on the tiny deck to look at the stars. He sat on his decrepit lawn chair, which took up most of the available space, and ran his hand over the peeling yellow paint on the rail.

There was something about nights at sea that made Roger feel strange.

Roger went to Gold’s shop early the next morning. It wasn’t that his work ethic was getting stronger—he was just bored. He never slept well, and there were only so many things he could do to keep himself busy.

“Morning, Gold,” he said, closing the door behind himself. Gold startled, like he hadn’t been expecting Roger already…which he probably wasn’t.

“Where did you get that lovely item?” Gold asked, gesturing towards Roger’s person.

“Born with it,” Roger replied cheekily. Gold rolled his eyes. Roger felt a peculiar burning in his chest. “Right, the vest. Don’t know, I’ve had it a long time.” He couldn’t say why of all days, he chose this one to wear it, but the compliment (well, he thought it was a compliment) made him glad that he had. “And I didn’t steal it,” he added, seeing the suspicion in Gold’s eyes.

Gold muttered something that sounded like “Like hell you didn’t,” but Roger wasn’t sure. He didn’t ask, in case Gold remembered an incident that had slipped Roger’s mind.

“Go ahead and clean the windows,” Gold told him. Roger went into the back room to get a sponge and bucket, then outside to the tap to get water.

He knew Gold watched him work. His store was full of what looked like useless antiques to Roger, but were probably quite expensive and valuable; Roger would’ve thought him stupid for not keeping an eye on his hired ex-thief. But for a man who claimed to not have time for cleaning, he surely spent a lot of it staring at Roger.

Gold’s persistent gaze gave Roger the same funny feeling as the sea. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t know why it happened for the sea, much less for a person he’d never spoken to before.

Roger took off his rings before dipping his hands into the soapy water. One of them, a silver band with a large stone in the center, caught his eye.

He had met Gold before, in a manner of speaking. He had ‘accidentally’ tripped Gold on the sidewalk, and as he helped him up, he had stolen his ring. Roger sighed.

“Gold, this is yours,” he said. Gold inspected the piece of jewelry and smiled, his sharp features softening.

“I never even realized this went missing,” he said. “Good work, Roger.”

For some reason, Roger found himself lingering to watch as Gold put the ring on. It wasn’t a standard wedding ring, but he put it on his left hand. It also didn’t quite fit him, which was probably why it was so easy to steal in the first place.

What on Earth was it that made the air between them thick? Gold was acting strangely, seeming to be amused by everything about Roger. It was like he had an inside joke—but with who? And stranger still, Roger didn’t really care.

“Gold, would you like to go for dinner with me after work?” he asked suddenly. He didn’t turn from the windows, afraid to look at Gold should he be turned down.

“Like—like a date?”

“Yes, just like that.”

“Deal,” Gold said.

Roger turned around. Gold’s irises were a shade of brown, in the light coming through the half-cleaned windows, that made him wonder if he’d ever really seen brown before. And he was smiling, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for him…but it was a genuine smile.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

[bisexualwannabewriter]

“In the Night” - The Sandman (Morpheus, Dream of the Endless x  female reader) Chapter One

If you’re a fan of Greek Mythology like me, this one should make you happy :)

Summary : During the day, you’re a young pansexual woman with a confusing past,  living with your bestfriend, Vicky, and her young daughter Cecelia. But when night falls, you work as a stripper, nicknamed the “Little Dream” by your faithful clientele... Somewhere else, The Dream Lord Morpheus has escaped from his century long captivity.  But what does this have to do with you  ? You’ll find out soon enough...

I’ll post all the chapters here. You can also find everything I write here.

(There’s just a bit of swearing in this, otherwise I’d say it’s pretty tame, besides the whole strip club setting... no need for a trigger warning I think.)

Chapter Summary : After a weird dream that leaves you completely  disoriented, a peculiar but attractive man you’ve never heard of before  asks for you.  

"Aglaea, are you listening to me ? Aglaea !"

The strikingly beautiful woman kept repeating this name. Aglaea. The anger distorted her graceful features, and you wondered what you had done to deserve such wrath. She spat the next words, without ever breaking eye contact with you, sending chills down your spine : "What are you doing ? Have you lost your mind ? They're going to find you ! And when they do, there's no telling what horrors they'll do to you. Can you even hear me ?! AGLAEA !" Another voice, coming from your right startled you. You weren't alone. "Thalia, calm down. She can hear you just fine." The other woman, equally as breathtaking as the first one, came closer to you. She wore a reassuring smile that concealed a certain nervousness. "We're just worried about you, sister. Think about what you're doing, for a second, would you ?" She kindly took your hands in hers, inviting you to sit next to her on a stone bench, invaded by climbing ivy.

For the first time, you looked around you. The view almost knocked the breath out of you. There were no words to describe the exquisiteness of your surroundings. It seemed like all of your senses suddenly came back to life, and you felt overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. Waterfalls, strange trees you had never laid eyes on before, firefly like creatures floating all around you... Even the smell was divine.

You knew this place.

Home. It felt like home. You felt a stab in your chest, looking at the face of your sweet sister, her hands still clutching yours. You remembered now; her name was Euphrosyne. She had always been the most patient and gentle of the two. You were the younger of the trio. It was all coming back. You were one of the Charites, or Graces, depending on who you asked. "Think about your daughters.", Euphrosyne said. Four daughters. You had four daughters with Hephaestus. How could you forget about them ? Before you could think too much about it, your older sister added even more problems to your already full plate :  "And what would your husband say ? Think about it. Oh, and Aphrodite ? You've always been her favorite ! You know how jealous she gets, when our focus shifts onto other deities. So if you were to leave..." She had barely finished speaking, when Thalia continued, her voice more bitter : "And that's not even everyone ! What about father ? And Himeros ? Or is he the one who got into your head ? He must have, because you talk like a mad woman, Aglaea !" Himeros. Desire personnified.  Could they be to blame for the unyielding strength of your feelings for Oneiros ?

You didn't remember talking before, but when you opened your mouth, the words floated so easily out of you, with no control over them whatsoever : "Of all people... Do you think I care about my husband, Hephaestus ? I can barely stand the sight of him !" Even in your trance like state, you could feel this was a poor choice of words. Hephaestus was just the tip of the iceberg. This seemed to enrage Thalia furthermore : "Do you hear that, Euphrosyne ? Our brave baby sister fears no one ! Don't you remember what he did, when he found Aphrodite in bed with Ares ? Or do you need me to refresh your memory ?"

Euphrosyne raised a hand to appease her sister, before adding : "Listen... I know you love him, dear sister. But the Dream Lord has a dangerous reputation... If you do not fear our family, fear HIM and what he could do to you, should you displease him." You stood up, without even thinking about it, filled with a stirring frustration. Your sisters would never understand : it was all worth it. A sense of impending doom suffocated you, but it was better than any of this. Of course you'd pay. Of course they'd come after you. But for an instant, you'd be free. Free to love the one you wanted to love. Free to live the life of your dreams. A small taste of eternity. You declared, before turning your back on your sisters, never to see them again : "You talk about their power. What they can do to me. But what about MY power ? THEY should be scared. Because I no longer want to be part of this. Dancing, and singing, and organizing stupid banquets ! Is that all there is to our lifes ? Being forced into marriage ? Fuck them. I know they can hear me. FUCK YOU ! ALL OF YOU ! And you my sisters, I want this for you too. Freedom. My daughters..." you trailed off, before catching yourself again : "I hope you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me someday."

You caught a glimpse of a tear on Euphrosyne's soft face, before hearing a strange sound. Everything around you faded to black, and the noise turned into a muffled voice : "Y/n, wake up." Who was y/n ? Your name was Aglaea, was it not ? But the voice became stronger, insisting on calling you y/n. You felt weirdly heavy, all of a sudden. It was too hot. You needed some air. Water too. You opened your eyes, and found yourself in a dark room. A woman was standing above you. "Finally, you're awake !" she said. Still groggy and disoriented, you asked in a throaty whisper : "Euphrosyne ?" The woman gave you a weird look, and laughed a little, before telling you : "Damn, that nap must've been hella good girl, 'cause what the fuck did you just call me ?" You didn't answer, and she shook her head, continuing : "Come on y/n, get your ass up. We're gonna be late." She left you alone, before you realised something.

At the corner of the room, you could have sworn there had been a man too, carefully watching you, just a second ago. He seemed more like a dark ghostly creature than human, but his presence made your heart flutter a little. He was right there. Where did he go ? You sat up on the couch, fully awake now. Vicky (Victoria, that was her name - how could you not remember your bestfriend's name ?) was right, that nap knocked the shit out of you. Your dream was slipping away now. It had been a long, looong time, since you last dreamed like that. You almost forgot who you were for a minute. Who the hell was Euphrosyne ? What kind of name was that anyways ?

You stood up, and recognized your surroundings. You were in the backroom of The Erotes, a strip club owned by a woman named Amy. Everyone called her Ma' though, because of her benevolent and protective disposition. Female owned strip clubs were rare, and you felt grateful for it. Amy made sure everyone felt comfortable, safe, and in perfect control of what they wanted to do. This place was the closest thing there was to home, in your book. You didn't remember much of your childhood, and your parents just weren't in the picture. It was almost like you didn't exist, before Ma' took you under her wing. There was a sense of strong sisterhood, amongst you and the other dancers. People loved to think of strippers as dumb, superficial and vulgar. Or as victims, before God forbid a woman could do something like that, and feel powerful. But the women you spend so much time with were some of the most interesting, clever and gorgeous creatures, inside and out, you had ever encountered. Vicky was one of them. You lived with her and her two year old daughter, Cecelia, who was the apple of your eye, in an nice appartment rented by none other than Amy. Life was pretty good, all things considered. You had reasons to be happy. And you were, to some extent.

But as far as you could remember, there had always been this quiet fear inside of you. This constant anxiety, that had grown even stronger the last couple of weeks. Something was going to happen to you. You didn't know how you knew it... you just did. You tried to open up to Vicky, but she was an optimist at heart : she didn't take your alarm seriously. "Babe, nothing is gonna happen to you, okay ? You're fine. Everything's fine. And if it's not, it will be", she would simply say. And then there was this odd feeling that something was just... missing. Something, or someONE was not there when it should have been. It was strange. To crave something or someone you knew nothing about. And then the anger... Where was all of this coming from ?

You were getting ready, but you weren't going to be dancing tonight. Maxxie, the bartender, had an emergency. You suspected it had something to do with his boyfriend. Nevertheless, you were one of the only ones who could fill his shoes while he was gone, so tonight, you'd be bartending. Vicky always marveled at how easily you managed to do pretty much anything. You just had this weird gift : you would try something once, and then replicate it perfectly without much guidance afterwards. "God, it's like you're not even human ! At least look like you're struggling a bit !" she would joke.

You were almost done, when one of the girls, Donna (the customers called her Red, because of her fabulous copper lioness mane) passed her head in the doorframe : "Honey, some handsome guy is asking for you." You knew you were popular amongst the club's clientele, but unfortunately for that handsome guy, tonight wasn't the night. "Tell him I'm not dancing tonight, Donna." you answered. But Donna looked a bit embarassed, and continued : "I know, I told him so, but he's insisting. He just wanna talk to you, I think." You stood up, put your shoes on, and asked : "Has he been here before ? You know him ?" She didn't. Said she'd remember him, because he was too damn cute to forget. This sparked your interest. You raised one eyebrow, and playfully retorted "Okay. Well, tell him I'll be here in a minute, would you ? Thanks, Don." She gave you a mischevous smile, and closed the door. You stared at your reflection in the mirror one last time , pretty satisfied, stood up, and went behind the bar to start your shift.

You made sure to arrive discreetly, to observe whoever was asking for you and not be taken too much by surprise. You greeted the twins, Rom and Remus, who were the club's bouncers and part of the family as much as anyone else. Vicky was on stage with a couple of the girls, dancing to "Desire" from Meg Myers, but it was hard to shine with her around. She moved with a snake like sensuality, swaying her hips and charming anyone who laid eyes on her in a hot second. Her eyes swiftly spotted you accross the room, her beautiful features illuminated by the pink, purple and blue neon lights, and you winked at her, earning a blinding smile in the process. No one talked about it, but everyone here knew the line between friends and lovers were often blurred between you and Vicky. Sometimes, things just happened. It didn't need to be adressed or labelled. It just... was. You shifted your focus on the rest of the large room, and saw a peculiar man wearing sunglasses inside. Donna was right, he had never been here before.

Swagger oozed out of him, and he quickly noticed he had caught your attention. He was indeed very handsome, in an almost dangerous way. He smiled at you, and came to sit on a bar stool right in front of you. You returned the smile, rested your elbows on the counter, and said  : "A little bird has told me you're asking for me. But I wonder... I've never seen you around before. So how do you know about me ?" The blond man chuckled softly, before copying you and resting his own elbows on the bar : "A friend recommended this place to me. Told me to ask for Little Dream. That's how they call you, right ? Little Dream ? He tells me you move so gracefully, like you're floating around, with such lascivious ease... Must be quite the show." He had a way with words, she had to give it to him. "Unfortunately, as my friend already told you, I won't be performing tonight. I can get you something to drink though, if you'd like ?" His sunglasses still on his nose, the mysterious man grinned again. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could've sworn he was staring right into your soul in this moment. "A woman of multiple talents, I see." Then, he continued, speaking more to himself than to you "Little Dream... ha, isn't that just perfect ?"

Growing a bit uneasy, you asked again : "So, what can I get you ?". He seemed to get out of his short trance, and channelled all his charms to smoothly ask you for a whisky on the rocks. Two other men ordered drinks, so you had to abandon Sunglasses for a while, but he kept observing you with keen interest. A larger groupe came right after, so Amy popped up to give you a hand. You shot Blondie an apologetic look, but he didn't seem to mind. After a while, things had calmed down, and Ma' seemed to notice something was going on with you two, so she smiled, and nodded towards him. "Who's the pretty boy ? Don't think I've ever seen him before." You looked over your shoulder, and he raised his glass in your direction. You laughed softly, before answering : "Don't know. He came especially for me, apparently." Your boss smirked at you before deciding : "Go on. I got it. If things get too crazy, I'll call you." You asked if she was sure, which she was, before heading back towards the gorgeous stranger.

You didn't have time to say anything, before he complimented you : "It's true what my friend said, you do move like you're on a cloud. It's quite enchanting to see. Dancing or not." You softly smiled at him : "You're quite intriguing, aren't you ?" He laughed a little, before answering in a teasing way : "Am I now ?" You rested towards the counter again : "So what's your name, stranger ? And most importantly : what do you want from me ?" He patted the seat next to him, inviting you to join him on the other side of the bar. Amy was busy with a customer, and the group had drifted accross the room, cheering for Donna and Vicky, who were now dancing to "Okay" from Chase Atlantic. You joined him, curiosity getting the best of you. Satisfied, he responded to your questions with other questions : "Tell me, Little Dream... How have YOUR dreams been lately ? Do you sleep okay ?" Confused, you hesitated : "Huh, excuse me ?" He smiled to himself, like this was a private joke only he could understand. "Our old friend is out again, you know ? It's clear to me you can feel it, too." You subtly backed away a little, taken aback by his words. He didn't make any sense. Did he ? This wasn't the first time you had to deal with a weird customer, but there was something about this one... He was getting under your skin, and you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about", you said nonetheless. He shook his head : "Ah yes, that old trick the Gods have cursed you with. Still working, I see. No memory again. I wonder what it'll take, for you to break that malediction. Anyways, he must have visited you at least once, since he's free now. Hasn't he ?" You stared at him in complete disbelief, not understanding why his words didn't sound completely insane to you. There was something in there that resonated with you, and he saw it in your eyes. "Aaaah, I knew he couldn't resist seeing his girl again. It's been so long, after all." Was he talking about the shadowy figure you swore you had seen when you woke up from this strange dream ? He couldn't be. How could he know ? You didn't even know what you had seen for certain. He continued : "I know if you were mine, I couldn't stay away for too long... But our mutual friend has been a very good boy, those past centuries. The last one wasn't his choice, alas, but still..."

Something inside you woke up, and you felt the hair on your arms stand up. Was he the one who would precipitate her downfall ? Was this what you had always been worrying about ? "WHO are you ? What do you want ? And what on earth are you talking about ?" The man chuckled again, this time with something dark in the sound of his voice. He stood up, and before you could turn around, you felt him whispering in your ear "You may not fully understand now, but you will. I'll help you understand when you're ready. I'll be there when you need me, that's a promise. Until then, see you around, Aglaea."

Before you could react, he was already gone. Aglaea. The name sounded awfully familiar. Wasn't it how those women called you in your dream ?

Chapter Two in the making...

[jeonqkooks]

until then | jjk

You’re his heart, and his heart is hurting.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mild angst, mentions of stress 

rating: PG

word count: 1.5k (not very edited tho but r we surprised)

note: i wrote this out of pure self-indulgence. i reworked one of my rants into this piece and it’s also inspired by a convo i had with @jktones​ when i was feeling really down last month. it’s dedicated to anyone who might be feeling the same way - stressed out and overwhelmed - you don’t have to shoulder it alone. i hope this can you some peace of mind :)

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Roused from slumber at 3 in the morning from the lack of your body cuddled up against his, Jungkook frowns as he reaches over blindly to seek your embrace. Though when his search comes up empty, he opens his eyes, the furrows between his brows deepening when he sees that you were missing on your side of the bed. It’s not warm anymore; you’ve been gone for a while.

Lazily getting up from the comfort of the bed to venture out into the living room to look for you, he doesn’t call out your name, half expecting that you were asleep there, possibly having taken your laptop out to work and to keep from waking him up with your typing.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of your body hunched over on the couch, your laptop laying beside you and a box of tissues on the coffee table in front of you. Your frame trembles slightly from your muffled sobs.

Jungkook quietly pads over to sit next to you, wrapping his arms around you and securing you tightly in his embrace while he rests his chin on your shoulder, his own chest constricting from an ache that doesn’t even belong to him. You’re his heart, and his heart is hurting.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Startled, you quickly wipe your tears with the tissue you’re holding. “Why are you up?” you ask in lieu of an answer.

“You weren’t in bed,” he says with a small pout, playing with the hem of your shirt. “Now, answer the question. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

As you try to calm yourself down—taking deep breaths in and out like you’ve learned to do whenever you need to compress your feelings into an imaginary box for you to keep hidden in the attic of your mind—embarrassment creeps in like an unwanted guest standing in the corner of the room and watching you with taunting eyes. Jungkook just caught you sobbing into your hands in the middle of the night; you can’t just laugh and brush it off now.

“Jungkook…” you start but you’re not sure of what to say. He lets you take your time though, to gather your thoughts and let him in however you see fit.

Sometimes life just gets a little too hard and you find yourself carrying more on your plate than you can handle. Whenever you’re finished with a deadline, you barely get any time to breathe before another one drops in your lap, then another, and another. They keep piling up and before you know it, there’s a monster waiting for you to conquer before it swallows you whole, and the thing is, you’ve always thought you had to—ought to—do it by yourself.

You’ve never learned to depend on others, emotionally or otherwise. Friendships fall apart and relationships fail all the time; you’ve gone through your fair share of this to know better. People are fickle, people leave. Be independent—that’s how you’ve always been made to feel.

(Though you love Jungkook—it drives you up a wall whenever you think of him because there’s so much adoration and love in you for him—and you know he feels the same way about you, you can’t help but think maybe one day he’ll leave too, just like everybody else did. Only you don’t think you have the capacity to handle the loss of him. This time, it wouldn’t be something that you can bounce back from.)

Somewhere along the way, you’ve built a wall around yourself that rarely anyone makes it past, because sometimes it feels like such a crime to let others know that you’re vulnerable, susceptible to flaws and the pressure that this world inflicts upon everyone.

It’s shitty—this coping mechanism of yours—but it does the job, you suppose. You’ve learned how to master it like it’s second nature; it’s familiar like a daily routine, like waking up and brewing the same cup of coffee every day, making the same commute to the office and sitting at the same desk for next 8 hours. It works, until it doesn’t anymore. Bandaids over bullet holes. Emotions are meant to be felt, and if you bottle them up long enough, some day they’ll burst through one way or another.

Lately you’ve been stretched too thin, you’re the most stressed you’ve ever been in your life maybe. There’s this emptiness inside that you can’t explain. It’s hollow but it’s overwhelming at the same time; you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams, spinning headfirst into a concrete wall without anything to hold you from the impact.

You have Jungkook, you know you do, in every sense of the word—he’s your best friend, your partner; he’s the only one you want to walk this path with. But how do you tell him that you’re not even a fraction of the perfect being he thinks you are? How do you tell him that you’re only hiding behind a facade, that you’re weak underneath all of this armor around you? It’s a mortifying thought, to let others know that you can falter and fall—not even your closest friends who have been with you through thick and thin; because you all grew up, you all have your own lives now—you didn’t want to make anyone deal with your bullshit on top of their own.

Tonight was the straw that broke the camel’s back, you reckon. There was no apparent reason for it, you just finally reached your tipping point. Hollowed out and overwhelmed, you did the only thing you could for the ache to pass momentarily—be alone and let yourself feel the things you’ve been suppressing, knowing that after it’s over, you’ll start a new cycle of suffering in solitude all over again.

When Jungkook pulls you closer into his side and rub soothing patterns on your skin, you tell him just that, albeit ashamed the whole time you’re ranting because, well, it isn’t something you do very often, especially with other people. But when the words started coming out, they wouldn’t stop despite your internal protests. You hope he understands your mindless ramblings; you pray they aren’t too much for him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks after you’re done, his voice rough with sleep but still tender for you.

“You’ve been busy,” you say quietly, sniffling. “I–I didn’t wanna burden you…”

“Baby,” he tsks lightly and kisses your temple, “I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me.”

“What? No, Koo, it’s not your f–”

“Hear me out, okay?”

When you nod after a few seconds, uncertain, Jungkook maneuvers your body until you’re practically sitting in his lap with your legs on either side of his thighs. He wounds your arms around his waist while one of his wraps around your frame, pulling you into his chest to rest your head on his shoulder. Using his other hand, he soothingly caresses your hair, making sure that you feel as at ease as possible in his embrace.

“I never want you to think that you have to do this alone. You’re never a burden to me, or to anyone. I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk to me.” You say his name again in protest, to argue that the problem isn’t him, it’s your inability and unwillingness to show others the side of you that you’ve tried to bury for so long. But Jungkook only grunts once to shush you. “It’s not a weakness to be vulnerable. It just means that you’re human, and humans need each other. You can share things with me—anything at all. I love you, I would do anything for you. Let me be the person you go to for help when life starts to weigh you down.”

“I don’t…” you tighten your hold around him and sigh against his shoulder. You’re thankful he doesn’t make you face him; you might cry again if you stare into those starry eyes. The lack of space between your bodies allows you to feel his heart thrumming softly through his chest. It calms you down a little. “I don’t know how to do it,” you admit.

“That’s okay too, I can help you learn. Until then you can just let me be here for you, because I am here for you—always—you know that right?”

You nod weakly, letting your light sniffles speak instead of your words. The two of you stay like this for a while, just allowing one’s presence to soothe the other and heal your hurt. Feeling each other’s heartbeats and listening to the sweet nothings he murmurs in your ear in the quiet of the night.

Jungkook is the first one to pull away. “I love you,” he plants a kiss on your forehead for emphasis, then both of your cheeks, over your tear stains. “Now, will you come back to bed?” he smiles before pressing his lips to yours, soft and sweet, and it makes you smile too. All glassy eyes and reddened nose, you think you look ridiculous but he thinks you look beautiful. “I miss my cuddle buddy.”

“You go ahead. I’ll be there in a little bit,” you say apologetically and glance at the darkened laptop screen on your other side. “I still have to finish this.”

He hums in acknowledgement and nods, settling into the cushions and making himself comfortable. When you raise an eyebrow in question, he only reaches for your hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “I’ll sit here with you then.”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means.

[beels-burger-babe]

Double Vision

*This is completely self-indulgent as I officially have to wear glasses now and got my first pair today, but I figured to give you guys some content in between me being stuck on the two stupid drafts that I'm writing, I'd give you this I guess this is a series of shorts?? Either way, enjoy! -B*

Summary: It's the night before the first major test of the RAD school year, and MC has been holed up in their room all day. The brothers are concerned and go to check in on them, but they notice something different - MC is wearing glasses

CW: Asmo being Asmo. His bit is a little suggestive at times

LUCIFER

Although he'll never admit it, Lucifer was really concerned when you had disappeared for the entire day.

He was so used to hearing you laughing amongst his brothers, or pestering him in his office, or even just lounging in the living room that your absence had left him feeling like something was wrong.

Using the excuse of bringing you food to prevent you from starving, he comes to your room and knocks once before entering.

"MC, I know your studying, but do try not to forget that you...need..."

He's cut off mid-snark as he saw you staring back at him behind a pair of framed lenses.

His heart stuttered in his chest and Lucifer Morningstar is left speechless.

Your hair was a mess from the countless times you had run your hands through it. There were bags of exhaustion under your eyes, and there was a hand-shaped mark on your face from where you had been leaning into your palm.

But with those glasses, you looked studious and sharp.

If the eye-wear added this much to your beauty when you were clearly sleep-deprived as you were, he couldn't help but imagine how you might look dressed up in business wear with them.

"Lucifer?"

He snapped his head up, as you caught his focus one more, and noticed, with a frown, how you had removed your glasses.

"Did you come here for something?"

Lucifer walked over to your desk and set down the plate in front of you. "I was ensuring that you actually ate some food between all the reading you're doing." He picked up your glasses and casually inspected them (although mentally he was taking note of the style so that he could buy you more). "I was unaware that you wear glasses, MC."

You rolled your eyes and took a bite from the food in front of you. "That's because I don't need to wear them all the time. Just when I'm doing activities that can strain my eyes."

Lucifer hummed and looked closely at you. You rose an eyebrow at the demon, questioning his odd behaviour. Before you could say anything, he leaned forward and gently slid the frames onto your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up as his eyes remained locked on yours, and a sly smile graced his lips. "You should wear them more often," he whispered softly. "You look lovely in them."

MAMMON

Mammon sighed heavily as he sat upside down on his bed.

He was bored. You had locked yourself up in your room all day for that stupid test and had kicked him out since apparently he was "distracting" and "prevented you from getting any work down."

Well, fuck that! He wanted to spend time with you, damn it!

Mammon marched down the hall and banged on the door once before throwing open the door. "Yo human! Studyin' time is over! It's Mammon ti-...time..."

He trailed off for a moment as he noticed you glaring heatedly at him. However, it wasn't the glare that made him surprised. No. It was the fact that the glare was being filtered through a pair of glasses that he had never seen before on your face.

"When the fuck did you start wearin' glasses?!" He screeched and marched over to you, grabbing your cheeks to pull you closer and get a better look.

You let out a noise of frustration and swatted his hands away. "Mammon quit it! I'm trying to study!"

Surprisingly, he pulled back his hands, but he remained barely an inch away from you. "I didn't ask if you were studyin'! I asked about the glasses!"

You felt yourself blush and pulled your face away. "I've always had glasses. I just don't always wear them. That's all. Wh-Why does it matter?"

Mammon opened his mouth to give a retort, before snapping his jaw back shut. His face grew rapidly warm as he scratched the back of his neck. "I-I was just wonderin'! You've been down here for what? 3 months now? And I ain't ever seen you wear them."

You averted your eyes from the clearly flustered demon and nervously played with your hands. "Yeah, well, I didn't really want any of you to see me in them. I look pretty silly and-"

"What the fuck are you talkin' about? You're adorable!!" Mammon shouted before slapping a hand over his blushing face. The two of you stared at each other with wide eyes full of shock. "I-I mean, glasses are cool, ya know? I wear glasses all the time! And if the Great Mammon knows anythin', it's style! So, of course, you look cute- I mean good- I mean gorgeous- I-I mean GAH!" Mammon turned around and stormed out of the room.

A couple days later, you found a pair of tinted glasses, identical to the ones Mammon wears, in your prescription sitting by your door.

LEVIATHAN

Levi groaned as he looked at the books in front of him.

He wasn't the most studious of his brothers, and this test was draining the life out of him. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch anime, but because of this stupid test you were both holed up in your respective rooms studying.

Leviathan let out a huff as he laid his head on his desk and glanced over at his manga collection. His gaze paused on the side of a particular school manga with the two main characters studying on the cover.

Levi shot out of his seat in realization, "I can just go study with them!!!"

Levi quickly gathered all his textbooks and went straight to your room. He knocked on the door and nervously waited for you to answer.

As the door swung open, Levi's jaw dropped and his books went scattering across the floor.

Glasses. You were wearing glasses. Glasses that made your eyes look slightly bigger and just overall made you so freaking cute. Oh goodness. He didn't know that you could pull off the cool, studious type so well. You were just so cute!

"Oh shoot, Levi! Your books!" You bent down and quickly began to gather them for him. It was just like a scene from an anime!

"S-So kawaii," the otaku muttered, as he tried to hide his red face behind his arm.

The reddening got worse as you looked up at him and tilted your head. "What was that, Levi?"

He frantically waved his hands took his books back from you, "N-NOTHING! Just, um, I-I was wondering if we could study together? I'm not having much luck on my own, a-a-and you look smart, especially with your new glasses, which look amazing, and I-I thought maybe..."

You smiled softly at the otaku's mumbling and grabbed his hand. "Of course, Levi! I'd love to study with you!"

As you pulled him into your room to sit at your desk, Levi blushed and followed behind you, mentally thinking of the number of glasses-wearing cosplays he could get you to try.

SATAN

Satan took a sip of his tea as you sat down at the library table beside him.

Test season had always been a favourite of his for a number of reasons, but this year, those reasons could all be narrowed down to one big one: he got to spend more time alone with you.

It made him more grateful than ever that his brothers were morons and that he was the only dependable demon in the house that you could study with.

He had constructed an easy-to-follow study guide for the two of you that would guarantee both your success for this test. You'd get good grades and avoid Lucifer's wrath, and he'd get to spend time with you. It was a win-win.

He flipped through a textbook to find the subject of the test. "Alright. We should get started if we're going to stick to the plan. Now, how comfortable are you with..." he stopped short as he looked up and saw you staring at him with a pair of glasses on your face.

He blinked.

He had never seen you were glasses before. He couldn't help but think that now that he had, he never wanted to see you without them again. You look so stunning and elegant with them on. He absolutely loved it.

Of course, he couldn't just tell you that though.

Instead, Satan tilted his head and smirked. "You are aware that just because you're wearing glasses, it won't make you any smarter?"

You gasped in mock offence and lightly hit his arm as Satan laughed. "I'll have you know these are prescribed! I have to wear them when I'm doing any strenuous activities."

Satan flashed a roguish smile and went back to flipping through his book. "Pity. I'd rather like to see you wear them more often. You look wonderful," before you even got the chance to respond or acknowledge the light blush on his cheeks, Satan cleared his throat. "Now, on page 364, you'll see..."

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus hummed to himself as he walked towards your room with a basket full of facemasks and nail polish in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

You had been tucked away in your little room all day studying, and he just knew that you needed a break. That's where he came in of course, offering you all the love and self-care you could ever desire.

Asmodeus joyfully knocked on your door before slipping inside. "MC dear, I've come to free you from your..." he inhaled sharply at the sight before him.

You were laying on your stomach, kicking your legs behind you as you read whatever book you were studying from, dressed in an adorably oversized sweatshirt. That alone would've been enough to make him squeal.

But you were also wearing glasses.

Asmo shrieked as he jumped onto the bed with you and tackled you.

You let out a yelp as the two of you tumbled to the floor. "Wha- Asmo! Get off!"

Asmodeus giggled and sat up beside you. "Sorry, darling! I couldn't help it! You look so cute with your little glasses. AH! It's delightful," his eyes sparkled with intrigue and pleasure. "Sexy even," he purred as he leaned in close.

You chuckled and pushed Asmodeus away as you stood up. "I'm just studying. The glasses are so I can read without getting a headache."

The demon hummed as he walked back over to the door to regather his supplies. "Well, have you ever considered buying some for accessories? I have a pair or two that would look gorgeous on you. It'd be a shame if the only person who ever got to see how scrumptious you look with glasses was your books," he smirked knowingly as he turned around and saw you flustered.

Asmo grinned and held the basket and wine bottle. "Now enough with the studying. It's time for a break. So sit back and relax, and let me take care of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, and damn that glare was more effective from behind a pair of lenses. "Asmo," you warned, causing the demon to shiver.

Asmo pouted and gestured to the basket. "Self-care of course. Gee, MC, why must you think such filthy things."

BEELZEBUB

Beel made his way towards your room with his arms full of snacks.

He was proud of you for taking your test so seriously and really putting in the work to do your best, but he was also worried. He had barely seen you come out of your room even once today, and that meant that you probably hadn't eaten enough.

Seeing as you were always carrying around snacks for him, he figured it was time that he returned the favour.

He frowned as he got to your door and realized that he had no hands to knock with. He tried rearranging the food in his arms but nearly dropped the entire load. Beel huffed and stared at the door for a couple seconds before leaning forward and butting it with his head several times.

He heard a groan and some shuffling on the other side before the door opened.

His eyes widened as you stood before him, yawning as you rubbed your eyes underneath your glasses - yes, glasses.

You were always small in comparison to Beel, but now with the glasses, there was something about it that made you look even more delicate.

"Cute," Beel said as he looked down at you.

Your face instantly flushed as you blinked up at him. "H-Huh?"

Beel smiled softly and felt his fingers twitch with the urge to ruffle your hair. "Your glasses. They look very cute," he explained honestly.

You squeaked and quickly took them off, too embarrassed by Beel's forward compliment. "Th-Thanks Beel. They're um, they're just for studying."

The urge to ruffle your hair, or pat your shoulder, or even simply touch you grew stronger, but Beel's hands were still full. So, much like with the door, Beelzebub thought of an alternative.

He leaned down and gently kissed the top of your head. His warm gaze met yours as he gently whispered, "You always look pretty, but with them on, you look even prettier," and then, as though he hadn't just stolen your heart, he grinned and held out the food. "I brought snacks."

BELPHEGOR

Belphie had been wandering around the house late at night in yet another round of restlessness.

He had just walked past your door when he noticed your bedroom light was still on. Belphegor tsked and began making his way over. It was bad enough that he wasn't getting any sleep. He didn't need you picking up on his awful sleep habits just because of some boring test.

Without bothering to knock, Belphie opened your bedroom door. He opened his mouth to tease you but found his words catching in his throat.

You weren't awake after all.

You were passed out on your desk, face smooshed up against an open book with a pair of glasses sitting uncomfortably askew on your nose.

Belphie felt his cold heart melt at the sight.

He let out a deep chuckle and walked over to you. He carefully removed the glasses from your face and snorted at the red lines that had been left in their wake. He pressed gentle kisses to the marks before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you over to your bed.

"Silly MC," he whispered as he draped your blankets over you. "Everyone knows that you're not supposed to sleep with glasses on," he smiled tenderly at your sleeping form as he brushed a few hairs from your forehead. "No matter how cute they may make you."

*And that's that! I hope you enjoyed this cute little thing I just threw together! Sorry I haven't been able to write as much lately. School and work have just been insane and I honestly don't think the workload is gonna get any lighter. Thank you for your patience and your support!*

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @victoirey @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino @rulaien @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10

[epigstolary]

The Middle of Nowhere

Technically, I’m free to come and go as I please. My chaser doesn’t keep me under lock and key. There’s no gainer sex dungeon, no bed with handcuffs built into it, no livestock feeding machine with a harness he lashes me into. Anybody could come up and knock on the door, and there’s a decent chance my 800 pounds would even waddle up to the door to greet them. I’m not a captive. I’m not even hidden. I’m just… in the middle of nowhere.

At first, the idea of a farmhouse way out in the country seemed idyllic. Peace, quiet, privacy, and the miles of fields and plains stretching far away. It didn’t hurt that, in a rural place like where I was from, there was virtually nobody interested in feeding and growing someone — except for him, and he was surprisingly close. We met for the first time at the diner in town, but it didn’t take long for the discussion to turn to where he lived — miles away, miles down a dirt road cutting off from the already desolate rural route running along the edge of his land. Nobody around to spy or judge. Someplace where we could be ourselves.

I jumped at the chance to move in with him, and I started blowing up almost immediately. I had the opportunity to indulge myself, and I took it — while he’d be out at work, I’d be sitting around his farmhouse, always eating or snacking between meals, never having to stop and go anywhere. I went from my original fat body to morbidly obese in a matter of weeks, and in six months nearly doubled my weight. He bought me clothes with room to grow, but faster than either of us expected my belly was fully hanging out the bottom of my shirts, resting on the thighs that were stretching my formerly baggy pants to the bursting point. My newly flabbier arms bulged out of the sleeves, flexing the fabric as they lifted more food into my waiting mouth. I didn’t strictly need clothes, since I never went anywhere, but we both liked to keep up the pretense that I was living something of a normal life.

There was no question that he wanted to see me fatter; but he never forced me to eat, never got angry when I said I wanted to slow down or try to eat a little healthier. He just kept cooking, kept serving, kept making sure everything I couldn’t resist was always in reach. That was all it took. It wasn’t long before my belly and arms made me far too large to fit in the small cab of his old pickup. The discovery that I was now isolated here — completely under his power and dependent on him to leave, confined as effectually as if I were chained — took my breath away. Even if I could somehow squeeze behind the wheel, the fat bulging out around it was enough to keep me from turning it or reaching the pedals, however much I might push against that resistance. At that point, my only real means of leaving became tantalizingly close but forever out of reach. I could see it, touch it, get as close as I wanted; but I could never use it to save myself again.

I did try to walk away once. When I hit 500 pounds and he made an entire cake for me to finish to celebrate, I had a minor freak out at just how big I was getting and decided I had to get out. So I started walking in the middle of the night. But at a very sedentary quarter-ton, it didn’t take long before I had burned through the panic adrenaline and started getting winded hauling so much fat around. My back ached from holding up my juggling belly, my thighs burned from the unfamiliar friction of walking a long distance, and my chest clenched tight from exertion and the struggle to breathe. I collapsed about a half-mile toward the road, a sweaty, blubbery heap; and early in the morning I heard his pickup chugging up behind me. Without a word, with no reproach, he helped me up, hoisting my bulbous ass into the cab of the truck. He drove us both back toward the house, my body jiggling with every bump and dip. A pound of bacon and a plate of chocolate pancakes calmed me down just fine.

Things only accelerated from there. Early on, I’d been able to take a snack out to the yard and walk along the fence to get some fresh air. Now, I’m barely able to waddle out to the porch and plop down on the bench, my overhang bumping against my knees with each step. I’ll go out with a plate of food, my ass filling the two-seater bench in its entirety, and watch the occasional car glide by on the distant road, as remote and unreachable to me as the moon. Even if I really did want to leave — even if I thought I could go somewhere, ignore my hunger long enough to get down to a “normal” size, and go back to my life as it was — how would I do it? I’m not struggling for miles to the road carrying nearly a half-ton of blubber, if I could even make it down the driveway on my own without getting completely winded; and even if I did, nobody is picking up a hitchhiker who can barely fit into a pickup bed.

Who could I call for help, then? The police? And tell them what, that they should arrest my roommate because I ate myself to the size of a small elephant? This is the midwest; there’s a decent chance I wouldn’t even be the fattest person they’ve dealt with that week. And there’s nobody here driving for Uber, no cab company within a hundred miles, even if I could fit in their car. I could hire an ambulance, but with what money? And anyway, I’m not ready for the shame of being strapped into a gurney and bundled away by a troupe of men, all gawking at how much lard I’d been able to pack onto my frame and tut-tutting at the fat cow who let their indulgence and morbid obesity get so out of control. That might come whether I want it to or not someday, but not yet.

So here I sit — chewing, swallowing, consuming. Eating so much I can almost feel my body expanding with new fat every day. More weight pressing me down, making the distant road that much further away. My thighs and calves jiggling more, my pudge-filled arms swinging more to balance my weight, my belly hanging lower every day. And he sits here with me — smiling, complimenting, admiring my growing rolls and tighter clothes and slower steps and heavier breaths. Watching as I build my own prison, bite by bite.

It won’t be long before the dozen or so steps to the porch and the now-too-narrow front door are more trouble than they’re worth. Then more and more of my meals will be taken on the couch because it’s not worth my fat-laden frame hobbling over to the dining table. Then eventually, maybe, I stop getting up at all, and just let my fat swell and grow in place. How much bigger will I get then, I wonder.

He doesn’t have to keep me locked up, because I’m doing the job well enough on my own. And I know he’ll never stop wanting me bigger. I can see it in his eyes when he imagines my body under another hundred, five hundred, thousand pounds of fat, wobbling pitifully amidst a pile of unmoving lard and struggling desperately to function at all. What is he going to do to get me there? What’s going to happen to me when I’m too big to go anywhere and he has me, in the middle of nowhere, all to himself?

I guess all I can do is keep eating and find out.

[camilomyshiningstar]

☀ - .〚 my clumsy crush 〛 . - ☀

➸ Camilo Madrigal, fluff, clumsy reader, soft camilo, mutual pining, awkwardness

There she is again

Camilo takes in a shaky breath and scrambles to hide when his eyes lay upon you, walking through the hallways of casita again, it's no surprise whatsoever to see you around, after all, you are well known all around Encanto for your clumsiness, one moment you would be laughing and talking and suddenly you would slip or trip or fall

Your clumsiness has you absolutely dependent of Julieta's arepas, meaning that you practically live inside the Madrigal’s house for the many times you have to visit to get your wounds healed

But despite all that Camilo still can’t help but blush whenever he catches a glimpse of you around the house, heart slamming against his chest almost painfully whenever you spare a glance his way

You sit inside the kitchen of the Madrigal house, leaning on the countertop with a hot cup of tea in your hand and your arms crossed over your chest, enjoying your drink while waiting for Julieta's healing arepas to finish cooking

However your peace is interrupted and you flinch at the sudden noise of clattering plates and cutlery which has you snapping your head up and looking towards the sound, finding a red faced Camilo scrambling to pick up the stuff he accidentally dropped

(He totally didn't ran into one of the cabinets full of plates while looking at you, nope, not at all)

“Camilo? Are you okay?” you get off your seat and carefully approach him with a worried expression, reaching out towards him

“Oh, uh, nothing to worry about, (y/n)! I’m fine” he replies hurriedly, trying to play it off with a grin as he stuffs the last of the plates inside the cabinets, you can faintly see the reddening in his cheeks and ears

You let out a sigh and ask him to let you see his hands as you inspect them for any wounds, his hands are warm and soft compared to your scarred and calloused ones, Camilo feels like he may pass out by how gently your hands glide across them but manages to keep himself standing “Are you really checking if i have any bruises when you are literally standing in front of me with at least five scratches?” he asks softly, brown eyes locking with yours

Your breath catches in your throat as his soft voice climbs through your ears, and you try to fight back the heat crawling up your cheeks, despite your best efforts to school your features, Camilo only blushes harder after noticing your flustered expression and he lets go off your hands like they had personally burned him

“It’s nothing to worry about, Julieta is making some arepas for it” you respond with an awkward smile as he chuckles, trying to cover his reddening cheeks with his hair

A cough is heard from the other side of the kitchen and you find Dolores at the kitchen's door, looking at her brother with the most teasing look ever and a smile too wide for comfort, suddenly Camilo feels more embarrassed than ever before and starts to babble something about having to do chores, you just watch him run out of the room, Dolores giving you a smirk before following behind

You can only stare at your hands, the ghost feeling of his hands still present on your own

“Soooo Camilo, what was that in the kitchen?”

“Nothing Dolores, leave me alone”

“You two would make such a cute coup-”

“Dolores, please shut up”