#losing sixty pounds or more

[444rockstargf]

kinktober finale. happy halloween!!

10.31 - GANGBANG!

݁ ˖🕸️.𖥔 ݁ ˖ {tags} @willsdollface @izuoyarmin @auggiethecreator @angelsanarchy @s-al-em @that-one-persons-posts @kashmirclam @areuirish @oliviah-25 @bl1ssfulbaby @danniackerman

previous: 10.29 - BODY WORSHIP!

freeuse!female!reader x charlie + chris + clyde + dan + euronymous + jack + kappa + ollie

word count: 1.6k

contents: gangbang, public sex, cnc, free use, unprotected sex, anal, oversitmulation, oral (both), 69, double penetration, throatfucking, a little blood, sex tape, slight mentions of stalking, and lots of more

a halloween party where you’d gone to drink the night away, but you ended up locked in a bedroom with eight striking figures predatorily staring down at you. the arrangement was as random as could be, from submissive and breedable to brutal and heartless. you knew that you were in for it tonight.

the men had nothing but one thing in common: the raging bulges that were growing in their pants. some were bold enough to palm themselves as they observed with you, others seemed too sheepish to do so. you were laid on the bed, your hips being forced into the air as jack landed a rough slap onto your ass. this starting action sent each one of them to their positions.

in a few quick movements, all your clothing was torn off of you, leaving you completely bare to all these predators. their gazes were swallowing you whole, each one carrying a different intention. you felt a hot sensation in your core, wetness growing in your clit. you were surrounded by them, anticipation travelling through your blood.

jack and euronymous were behind you. jack stuffed your wet little cunt with his cock while euronymous forced his into your asshole. the stimulation already had you seeing stars, but you could feel both of them being so rough with you, forcing themselves in and out of your holes and contorting your body into their toy.

you felt the two pairs of hands digging into the soft skin of your hips and waist, leaving red marks all over you as if you were their territory. their low hums and deep groans forced your body into great submission. euronymous’ balls slapped at the base of your hole while jack’s pounded against your swollen little clit.

clyde had squeezed underneath you, laying down in sixty-nine position and putting you face to face with his erect shaft as he looked up at your dripping pussy. he got his head in the right angle before hungrily connecting his lips with your stuffed cunt, licking up all the sticky liquid that he could.

your parted lips found the bubbling tip of his cock, planting breathless little kisses onto it before taking it all the way down. his cock throbbed in your mouth as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive bud. his technique was so careless yet precise. your hips were bucking into his mouth as the penetration made hot tears flow from your eyes.

kappa and charlie stood in front of you, each holding a knife in their hand. you could easily read kappa’s sinister expression, but charlie’s was masked with his black disguise. their red, angry shafts were pointed right at you like loaded guns, the tips leaking with sticky precum. your mouth was already stuffed, but they figured that you’d be able to take a few more.

kappa pulled your head off of clyde’s cock by your hair, charlie pressing his sharp blade to your neck and drawing a thin line of blood as your throat bulged. all three of their dicks were pressed together, seemingly begging you for pleasure. you sunk your head back down, sloppily managing to take all three at once. spit and tears fell from your face, leaking down your neck and falling all the way down to your cleavage.

jack and euronymous had been holding themselves in this whole time, their rhythm quickly losing composure. their thrusts became sloppier as they treated you like their own personal fleshlight. jack hit that spongy bundle inside of you as euronymous finally reached the most sensitive nerve in your body.

you cried out, sending waves of vibration through the other three men’s rock-hard lengths. you gushed and creamed and squirted all over the place, drenching everything around you. cum and spit dripped from in between your thighs, getting all over clyde’s flushed face. but he loved the feeling of being completely saturated by your liquids more than anything.

chris, dan and ollie watched you taking three dicks into your pretty little throat, they’re minds wandering to all the other things you could do. they weren't getting as much action as the others, but this was more than enough to send them over the edge.

dan sat prettily in front of you, jerking himself and whimpering sweet little nothings. he felt like such a touch-deprived whore and wanted nothing more than to be touched by you. he pumped himself up and down, as he begged for you to give him just one kiss, touch, or anything at all. he was desperate for your attention.

he sat there, moaning as he watched your tiny little holes getting stretched so wide, wishing that he could be in anyone’s position. he wasn’t picky. he wanted to be ruined, overstimulated til he was a sobbing mess, just like you were right now. he envied the touch that you gave and received, squeezing his cock in order to imitate the pleasure.

chris’ big blue irises were swallowed by his dark pupils. he had a video camera set up at the perfect angle, capturing you in all your beauty. he watched you through the camera lens, watching how your bruised holes glistened in the dim light of the room. your sweet little cunt was red and bruised from how many times you had came. 

your brain was completely dead, the number of times you’d orgasmed being completely lost on you, but chris would go home and rewatch the footage, counting every time you came and sync his own orgasms with yours. chris hadn’t laid a single hand on his swollen cock, but a large puddle of cum rested underneath him. he didn’t even need any physical pleasure. watching you was more than enough.

ollie had cum too many times to count just from watching the sight in front of him. he’d had his eye on you for longer than you’d ever known, but everyone one of his fantasies was being fulfilled right now. he’d always wondered how you’d look with a cock stuffed down you throat, and now you had three. he only every saw you fingering yourself through your bedroom window and he desperately wanted to see you take a real cock, and now you had two, destroying your guts as they filled you up over and over again. 

the lewd noises of skin slapping, your pussy gushing, synchronized moans and slurred curses filled the room, the crescendo of them signalling a final aligned orgasm. jack and euronymous were ready to fill up your guts with their cum, charlie, kappa, and clyde preparing to take care of your mouth as chris, dan and ollie got ready to paint themselves all over your body.

you were completely cockdrunk, your pussy mindlessly leaking everywhere as you passed the point of no return. as the few final thrusts pushed deeper into you than ever before, you felt burning hot, sticky cum shooting in and around you. all three of your holes were filled to the brim, liquids pouring down your legs and onto the stained bedsheets. 

every square inch of your body was covered, from your head to your toes. they all pulled out of you simultaneously, leaving you to collapse in a puddle of cum. you coughed up sticky bubbles, the same ones coming out of your pussy and asshole. you heard a slurry of words going around you.

some were telling you what a great job you had done, others throwing degrading terms of endearment at you. you laid there, still reeling over the rounds of stimulation that you had been through. you were surprised that you hadn’t dropped dead right there, but the thrill in your body was greater than anything you’d felt before.

author's note: happy halloween yall!! i just want to thank everyone so much for sticking around this season. i will be taking a short little break for a few days before i start working on requests again. thank you!

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Summary:

Alone and forsaken, Joel Miller hides himself away at the end of the world. After losing Sarah he was a shell of a man, trying to drown her memory in the blood of any soul that dared to cross his path. No matter what he did, Sarah haunted him. Then came Ellie, the girl he had been through hell with. Joel felt his chest crack open for her and from then on he decided that wherever Ellie went, he would be there. The Fireflies had other ideas. Joel had fought hard, he had torn through that hospital slaughtering anyone that he came across but he was too late. After practically burning down all of Salt Lake City, Joel banishes himself to a cabin in the middle of the woods. Resigned to his fate, his self imposed exile is soon interrupted when he finds you. Broken, starving, and on the brink of freezing to death, Joel has no choice but to let you into his life. With the winter winds in Montana being particularly piercing this season, he is forced to wait until the spring thaws the ground so that he can dump you on Tommy’s doorstep in Wyoming. Can he keep you at arm’s length until then? 

Warnings: Postoutbreak!Joel, mentions of child loss, mentions of religious trauma, brief mentions of Tommy and Maria, mentions of Tess, grieving Joel, Slow burn, eventual smut, eventual soft!Joel, A/B/O dynamics, unspecified age reader age (reader is in her mid-20s and Joel is 56), mentions of violence, Joel really needs a hug in this

A/N: This is my first fic so let me know what you guys think! I'm going to continue to put chapter warnings, both you and Joel are traumatized in this. This is going to be a bit of a slow-burn so strap in folks!

Chapter 1/20 - More to come!

Chapter 1: Withered and Gone

The thundering of his heart pounded in his ears, almost deafening him to the sound of each bullet that ripped into anyone in his way. Joel barely registered their death, if asked today he wouldn’t even be able to tell you how many people he slaughtered. Forty? Sixty? One hundred? He had no idea. Filled with a primal fear that pumped battery acid through his veins, he pressed on until he made it to the door.

That door. Joel hated that fucking door. He knew what he would find on the other side, he had seen it every other night for the last four years. Knowing didn’t change anything, it never did. Whether it was him cradling Sarah in his arms while screaming for Tommy and feeling her tiny body turn cold, or being confronted with Ellie’s skull cracked open while a stranger sliced through her brain, knowing didn’t make it better. 

Joel woke, as he did every night, with his heart slamming against his ribs and bile rising in his throat. His eyes were wild as he searched desperately for someone he would never have again, two someones that were gone forever. Nostrils flared, Joel huffed the stale air around him, searching haphazardly for the smell of strawberries and vanilla or cinnamon and ginger. For Sarah and Ellie, his pups. 

Joel was greeted with nothing but his own musk, the scent gone sour from the memories haunting his dreams. Running shaky hands over his flushed face, he cursed under his breath before getting up for the day. Knees popping and back twinging in protest, he forced himself into the tiny bathroom connected to his bedroom. Ignoring the weathered face in the mirror, Joel hauled himself into the shower and let the warm water soothe his tense muscles.

After Salt Lake City, Joel had resigned himself to living in the first dilapidated hunting cabin he could find in Montana. It was what he deserved after failing her. Again. He was a bad Alpha, an even worse father, he had let not one but TWO pups die under his care. Living out the rest of his days in some shithole was the least he could do. 

Having stumbled back to Wyoming, Joel reached Jackson and collapsed at the front gate. He remembers Tommy above him, trying and failing to shake him out of the daze he was in. He remembers the unfamiliar smells of the clinic, Tommy and Maria coming to see him. He remembers a beta doctor coming in to explain the lows he would experience in the coming months, being an alpha who had lost their pup.

As if he didn’t already know. 

Joel couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t stand the softness of the sheets, how Tommy looked at him with sorrow and Maria with guarded pity, how his innocent nephew looked up at him with Tommy’s eyes - the eyes that were the same as his, the same eyes he passed on to Sarah. It only got worse when he left the clinic. Walking through the streets of Jackson reminded him of Ellie. He had to restrain himself from burning the place to the ground. After turning quite a few heads in town with his bitter scent and chilling presence, Joel left quietly in the middle of the night. He left a note for Tommy with the patrol hanging around the front gate and departed for his exile. 

Sleepwalking through Wyoming, he finally made his way into Montana where he found the cabin. It must have been the treasure of some reclusive hunter, as it sat smack dead in the middle of the forest without a single road in sight for miles. The building was one story, with a slightly rotting front porch that was overhung by the tin roof. Black solar panels were clamped on the green tin roof, light reflecting against the glass and burning his eyes.

Joel approached it cautiously, pricking up his ears for any potential danger. Who would leave this oasis out here? Hearing nothing, he approached the log building and climbed the slightly softening stairs. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with nothing but dusty air. Taking one step into the room, he could tell nobody had been in this cabin for years. Dust covered the coffee table and moth eaten couch in the living room. Yellowing books lined the shelves and a taxidermied deer leered at him from the wall. 

Pushing forward, Joel found a puke green kitchen with a plethora of expired canned food and knitted dishcloths in a variety of bright colors. Next to that, a hallway that led him to a bathroom with a kitschy painting of a monkey in a wig brushing his teeth. Joel stared at it for a second, wondering who the hell would have bought something like that. Was he that type of person before the world went to shit? He couldn't remember. 

His tour of the house continued and he found two bedrooms. The first was a master suite with a large bed and a dust soaked brown comforter. He ignored the pictures that lined the walls and shifted through the dressers for anything useful. He found some pants and flannels around his size, as well as some smaller clothes that clearly belonged to a woman. Maybe the owner had a wife? Joel tsked at himself, he needed to remain focused on the task at hand. 

Joel dropped his bag, keeping his rifle notched against his shoulder as he approached the last door to the cabin. Surely if a clicker was going to jump out of him it would have already, but humans don’t typically alert their prey before pouncing in his experience. Joel didn’t smell anything as he approached the door but he remained tense. He didn’t trust his senses anymore. Hell, he hadn’t even smelled the Fireflies that approached him as he did compressions on Ellie after the tunnel. Years before that, he hadn’t noticed the soldier's scent sour after getting the orders that would kill Sarah. 

“Stupid, so fucking stupid, bad alpha, bad provider…”, he growled before shaking his head, trying to clear his mind of the poison that seeped into his soul with every waking moment of his miserable life. 

Half expecting (and half hoping) to be shot dead the second he enters the final room, Joel was greeted with a sight that punched him in the gut. He stumbled back a few steps before a wave of dizziness lurched him forward again. Ears ringing, he fell to his knees and let out a pained cry. 

The room was simple, with flowers painted lovingly on the walls and comic books stuffed into the tiny book shelf on the wall. Tears began to stream down his face as he shakily crawled forward. Joel grasped the only picture that sat on the peachy nightstand. Practically choking on his own cries, he dusted off the frame and looked at the picture. 

Two girls sat on the front porch. The girl on the left was tomboyish and silly, holding a fishing rod in one hand and throwing up the peace sign with the other. The other girl was softer, hands covered in paint and smiling wide while holding a painting of what looks to be a Disney princess. In another life, that could have been them; his pups, Ellie and Sarah.

“It’s not them, it’s not them, it’s n-not them,” he mumbled to himself, trying to ignore the similarities while his heart rate soared.

He could feel rage building up in his chest as he looked at the girls, his vision going blurry and his jaw popping with how hard he ground his teeth. 

“IT’S NOT FUCKING THEM!,” he yelled, launching the picture at the wall and shattering the frame. 

Joel stayed on the floor for hours before he collected himself, giving one last look to the room before closing it for good. This place would do fine, he decided. It was secluded enough to keep him in his solitary confinement. The cabin sat near a river with clean flowing water and had seeds and canned food in the cabinets. It even had a tomb for his dead girls to serve as a constant reminder of his failure. Scratch that, his failures. This would be where he spent the rest of his life. Alone, as it should be. 

For four years, Joel secluded himself in his cabin. The place had a few adjustments since then. The dust was shaken out of the blankets and the windows opened to wash out the dankness of the place. He had planted seeds and started a garden, put up traps around the area for meat, and even fixed the porch after he had almost fallen through it one morning.

Tommy found him a couple months after his arrival and he managed swindle his brother into helping him get the solar panels working so that he could have power. The younger Miller had lingered, trying to convince his brother to follow him back to a life in Jackson but Joel had just growled at the beta until he backed off. The only concession Joel agreed two was a meet up two times a year, once before winter hit in November and once again at the break of Spring in May. He knew Tommy just wanted to check in on him and as annoyed as he was, he also knew that it was the only way he could avoid the beta dragging him back to Jackson.

Jackson didn’t need the measly produce and game that Joel provided, Joel knew that. His brother needed proof that Joel was still breathing, and this was the only way Tommy knew he could get it. 

Joel’s head pounded at the thought of his idiot brother as he tried to rinse off the memories that plagued him. He stood under the scalding spray for a few more moments, willing himself to relax. He wondered briefly if it was his rut that was coming but he quickly brushed that off. He hadn’t had one of those since Tess was still alive. Whether it was stress or that he was aging way too fast, they had just stopped one day. Not that he minded, he hadn’t cared much for the monthly desperation and now he didn't think he deserved the pleasure a release would bring him.

Turning the valve, Joel stepped out of the shower and toweled off. His body was practically on auto pilot as he went through his routine of getting dressed. He crammed whatever food he could find into his mouth before putting on his boots and heading out to check the traps. 

The air was chilly as Joel stepped out. He quickly zipped his jacket while cursing the wind that bit into his wide frame. Joel stopped to look at the sky briefly and wondered if it would snow soon. A week into November and the temperatures had dropped drastically. He wondered if this winter would be as brutal as the last. One day he had not even been able to get out the front door with how much snow had come. After 24 hours, he had to literally dig himself out. 

Sighing, he headed into the trees surrounding the cabin. Every trap he crossed was empty, save for the last one near the river. That was usually the case, with animals that sought water easily getting snared in the wire. The trap held a good sized rabbit. He grinned as he thought about the stew that he would make with the gamey meat.  

“You’ll do just fine darling,” he drawled, releasing the snare from its neck before he shoved it in his pack. 

Joel turned, deciding to return to the cabin so that he could properly skin his new found treasure but something stopped him in his tracks. His spine straightened. Is that? No, it can't be. His nose lifted in the air, searching for something that could not possibly be true. That’s when he heard it. 

It was quiet. The noise barely carried over the wind and the river nearby but his ears zoned into it immediately. His instincts were trained for this. Joel waited a second. He was sure that he had finally lost it, but then he heard it again.

A whine. 

Not just any whine, no, this whine was high pitched and light. It floated on the cold air over to him and smacked him in the face. The scent of lavender and peppermint dizzied him and his heightened senses picked up another strangled whine. This whine had sweat forming on his brow and a need to protect tensing all the muscles in his legs. He was sure of it now. This was the whine of an omega. 

For a second Joel just stood there dumbfounded. What the fuck was an omega doing all the way out here? Were they alone? Did they need help? Were they hurt? If they are hurt then they need his help. He has to help, need to be good, need to protect, need to…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted out, rubbing his eyes as his headache worsened with every second he stood there. 

Another gust of cold wind brushed against his face and the sweet scent surrounded him again. He smelled the sharp note of panic in the aroma and his legs moved forward before his brain could process the action, his instincts taking over for him. Bounding through the trees, he ran towards the riverbank. His eyes wheeled around his surroundings, a gasp leaving his mouth as he spied a small lump near the rushing waters. Heart pounding in his ears, Joel raced towards it.

-You-

How long had you been lost? Weeks? A month? You didn’t even know anymore. You had been a part of a group of people, being the only survivors from a larger place that had been overrun by infected. After dodging infected and raiders for nearly a year, your luck had to ran out.

Your group had ran out of gas on some godforsaken backroad and were utterly stranded there. Hoping to find something in the small town - could you even call it a town? - your group had trudged into the small strip of dilapidated stores with one sorry looking gas station in the center. 

Everything had happened so fast. One moment you were outside the gas station watching a squirrel skitter up a tree near you, the next there were gunshots and screaming. Infected tore apart the face of your friend, an older omega named Miriam who had taken you under her wing, right in front of you. You remember screaming and immediately twenty dead faces turning in your direction. Miriam’s alpha, a soft yet stern woman named Rachel, had stepped in front of you cocking her gun. You whined and whimpered, legs shaking and scent downright acidic with terror as you cowered behind her. 

“Go Y/N,” Rachel yelled at you, squaring up as the runners and clickers darted towards her. 

You couldn't leave her. What would you do? Where would you go? Rarely had you ever been allowed to be alone and you never really wanted to be. Being an unclaimed omega in a lawless world meant that you had to stick to groups with those that would protect you, lest you become a raiding group's plaything.

Rachel pushed you back and started firing. Whining behind her, you tried to pull her towards the guard rail. You needed her, how would you survive alone?

“GET OUT OF HERE OMEGA!,” Rachel boomed. 

That flipped a switch in you. It was a biological kick in the ass that had you turning and sprinting across the road. Jumping over the guardrail, you looked back over your shoulder and saw Rachel slicing through the advancing dead. With her emptied gun somewhere on the ground behind her, you watched as a clicker launched itself at her and tore into her flesh. 

With Rachel’s last instructions to you bouncing off the walls of your now empty brain, you turned and sprinted into the forest. Passing nothing but trees, you ran until you were gagged and retched. Your chest was practically on the verge of exploding by the time you stopped and your legs gave out. Collapsing on to the cold ground, you laid beneath the foliage and drifted. 

That had been weeks ago, or months, you weren’t sure at this point. It’s not like keeping a calendar was on your mind. Plus, your heats had stopped from the starvation your group had faced for the past year. You tried counting how many days you had been lost by the nights but soon, with only a bag of granola in your pack and bottle of water depleted, the days and nights had blurred together.

This was how you were going to die. You felt like laughing and crying at the same time. You had been young when the virus hit, maybe 5 years old, and had watched it pick off every member of your family until it was just you and your mother. Your mother had been kind once, you think, but aren’t entirely sure if that was true or wishful thinking. 

A fairytale made up by a lonely child in a dying world perhaps?

You shook your head. No, she had sung songs to you at one point but that was before. After the infection, after your father died, she had kept you safe while bouncing around QZs in search of some sort of safe haven. That was until she met Josiah, a preacher that took you both into his group and quickly became your stepfather. 

You had tried to like him. He seemed sweet at first, giving candies to you and the other children at camp, offering to teach you how to tend to the garden, bringing you a pair of pink shoes that you were so excited to have that your mother pinched your arm just to get you to stop squealing. However, things shifted after your mother and you got more comfortable in town. It became clear that worshipping was the only way that Josiah would let you stay.

Your mother followed along, biting her cheeks and dragging you with her to bible studies and all night prayer services that bruised your knees. But you could tell that she hated every second of it. You could feel it in the way she wrenched you forward everytime you protested going to the services that you hated. You had been to religious services briefly before the outbreak, your mom taking you to Catholic mass once for Christmas eve and your father taking you to celebrate Purim at the local synagogue, but you were way too young to really understand the meaning of any of it. By the time Josiah came around, those memories were barely a whisper in your brain. 

Things got worse from there. Josiah became the centerpiece for the group and everyone bowed to his every decree. The alphas were at the top of the pecking order, never to be questioned especially by an omega. Omegas were to be demure, quiet, dutiful, and were meant to be completely under the coverture of their alpha. Betas were given slightly more leeway than omegas, but would never be in a leadership position at camp and would only be allowed to mate with other betas. Anyone breaking the strict biological guidelines were brutally punished. The methods were downright inhumane depending on Josiah’s mood or the level of perceived “heresy.” 

You prayed for years under Josiah’s tyranny that you would present as a beta. Sure, you would never lead like an alpha but that never appealed to you anyways. You were caring and you wanted to help people. Plus, maybe if you were a beta they would let you become a doctor. The majority of the group were also betas and many were your age. Being a beta would mean that when the time came, you would have more than enough people to choose from for mating. 

Much to your dismay, you presented as an omega and everything got worse. You didn’t have many friends, mainly Jake and the ladies that lived next door; Miriam and Rachel, but now you were stuck inside the house. Josiah wanted to keep you from sin, so he locked you away “for your own good.” You were forced to dress more conservatively, to eat less to maintain your figure, to pray more, to upkeep the house, to never look an alpha in the eye, etc. All the while, inside the house, you tiptoed around the rage of your dulled mother and the leers that your stepfather gave your developing figure. 

By the time the infected had overwhelmed the dinky gate that protected your community, you had already been planning on escaping for months. Leaping into a car with Miriam, Rachel, Jake, and a few others, calmness washed over you amidst the destruction. You knew that your mother was probably dead, and you had seen your stepfather get his head ripped clean off of shoulders by a massive clicker, but you didn’t feel anything but relief.

The year after you left, although it was hard with the constant running and fighting, was actually the best year of your life. Nobody expected you to be anything, nobody pinched you, nobody made you pray, nobody smacked you if you made eye contact. You were just you. 

“And now look at you,” you chuckled, “stumbling through the woods with no fucking idea where you are going.”

If you didn't find shelter soon, you knew that you would die. You needed to eat, to rest. There was no way you would last another night in the forest.

Your stomach growled violently, practically shaking your frame with the force. You lifted your nose in the air, searching for a whiff of anything. At this point, you were open to eating a squirrel. You shambled through the trees for hours, vision blacking out around the edges as you tried to find any trace of sustenance. Then you heard it: the loud roar of flowing water nearby. 

A new sense of urgency pierced through the delirium and you staggered through the vegetation. The urgency made you clumsy and you faceplanted on the rocky bank. A small whine escaped your mouth as you hauled yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your palms smeared blood across the rocks as you crawled towards the water. Dizziness scrambled your thoughts but you pushed through with your heart leaping in your chest and eyes bleary. Faltering as a wave of nausea and dizziness rocked into you, you lost your balance and crumpled just a few inches from the water.

You whined again, louder this time. Frustration welled up in your chest with your goal so close, yet so far away. As you laid there, contemplating whether or not it would be easier just to give in and die, a breeze came from the trees and carried over the most delicious scent that has ever graced your nostrils.

The smell of sandalwood and bergamot glided over the air and wrapped itself around your senses. You felt your body immediately sag along the shore, your eyelids drooping as a feeling of peace overwhelmed you. You weren't sure what was happening, having never felt this calm in your entire life but you didn't question it and gave in to the peace.

You didn't even flinch when you felt a pair of strong arms turn you over and lift you into the air. The comforting aroma coated the back of your throat and warmed the tips of your fingers, making you snuggle into the warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your face into the source as you felt yourself being whisked away.

A soft hum came from your carrier and you heard a deep comforting voice say, “It’s okay omega, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to ya darling.” 

You had never fallen asleep so quickly in your entire life.

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 10

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.0k

Chapter 9 | Masterlist

A few weeks go by, May is over and we were diving headfirst into June. After my eye appointment Jake took me to the bookstore, where we bought a few books that I had been wanting and then we went home. I immediately got online and started looking for frames for my glasses. I scrolled and scrolled for a few days until I came across those same Kate Spade glasses I saw on display. I went to scroll past them when I saw they were on a massive sale. They were originally two hundred and sixty dollars, but they were marked down to one hundred and ten online. That's the average price for glasses, but I bit my lip looking at them. I couldn't ask Jake for these even if they were on sale. "Find some you like?" I jumped, losing my grip on my phone as Jake startled me from behind. "Jake! God, don't scare me like that." I said, my hand over my heart as I leaned back into the couch. He just laughed, coming around and sitting next to me. Before he was even completely sitting, he snatched my phone, looking at the frames. "These are nice." He said, looking at them.

"Yeah but they're too expensive." I responded and he scoffed. "One ten isn't bad, darlin'. I was doing some research and saw the average was two hundred dollars.” He looked through everything on the glasses before turning to me. “There.” He said as he handed me my phone. I looked down and saw he had ordered them. “What if those weren’t the ones I wanted?” I asked and he laughed. “I saw you lookin’ at them at the doctor’s office darlin’. You wanted them.” With that he disappeared into the kitchen. I sighed, relaxing back into the couch as I looked at my phone. I felt bad because Jake has dropped a lot of money on me in the past few days, I had to figure out a way to pay him back. Of course, with no money that’s near impossible. So I would have to do something else. I thought about it for a while before figuring out a plan. While he was at work that week, I made sure the house was spotless, I did his laundry, made his bed and was prepping dinner by the time he got home. The first day he thanked me and was so pleased. But after a few weeks he came into my room after dinner, leaning on my door frame as he watched me put lotion on my legs. “Can I talk to you?” He asked and immediately my heart started pounding in my chest. “Um, yeah.” I put my lotion down and he came, sitting on my bed, looking at me. 

“Why are you doing all this stuff?” He asked and I furrowed my brows. “The cleaning?” “And the cooking, and doing my laundry, and making my bed.” I frowned, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Do you not want me to do that?” He sighed, flopping back on my bed. “I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s every day. Isn't there something else you'd rather spend your day doing?" He asked. I sighed, looking at the few books he bought me. I was halfway through one and I knew if I read all day I’d have the entire stack finished in two weeks. Then Jake would feel like he had to buy me more books. Television isn’t really doing it for me, and you can only watch so many movies. “Honestly?” He nodded. “Honestly.” I sighed, hugging my knees tighter. “Yeah. But I can’t think of much other than reading and it sucks when you finish a book so fast.” He stared at me and I felt like he could read me as easily as flight patterns. “But… you’ve also spent so much money on me lately and I don’t have money to pay you back so I thought I would do things for you.” He sighed, his eyes turning to look at the ceiling. “Darlin’, you don’t have to pay me back for any of this.” I shook my head. “Jake, you signed up to help me get out, not take care of me.” He chuckled, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his fist. My eyes drifted and I couldn’t help but notice his bulging biceps. “Katie.” He said, my eyes meeting his. “Darlin,” He smiled at me. “I don’t care about taking care of you. I’m happy to do it if it means you don’t have to go back to that house of horrors.” I smiled at him. “Thank you.” I whispered and he smiled at me. “Okay. Well I’m gonna go to bed, I’m exhausted.” I nodded as he stood before leaning over and kissing my head. “Night, darlin’.” He said before walking out. “Night, Jake.” 

A week later my glasses came in and I was excited when Jake pulled the box from the mailbox, and handed it to me. “Oh my god!” I squealed, excited to be able to see clearly again. I rushed inside, setting the box on the counter and searching for the scissors. “Dammit! Where are they?” I called out and I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned to see Jake, scissors in hand as he grinned at me. “Ah! Thank you!” I said, yanking the scissors from his hand and practically tearing the box apart. “I’ve never seen someone so excited for glasses.” I laughed at his words. “Well I have pretty shitty eyesight, so I’m excited to see clearly again.” I said, reaching into the box of packing peanuts and pulling out my new glasses. “HA!” I yelled, quickly cleaning the little bits of foam off the lenses. I slid them on and it took my eyes a second to adjust after going a few weeks without glasses but finally I could see. “Well?” He asked and I looked at him. Finally from a distance I could see him so clearly. “They’re great! I can finally see!” I looked out the kitchen window to the backyard. “Nice to know the leaves are still individual and not giant green blobs.” He laughed as he looked out the window with me. “Is your eyesight really that bad?” He asked and I pulled my glasses off, holding them out to him. “It’s not the worst eyesight ever but anything two feet in front of me and past that is blurry.” I told him and he held my glasses up to his face. “Oh my god that is blurry.” He said and I laughed, taking my glasses back. “So you can see why I’m happy to have glasses again.”

Another two weeks after that I had my first therapy session after Jake got off work and I lost track of time again and had to rush to get ready. Once again I tossed on a dress, some sandals, my hair was in a bun and I had no makeup. I grabbed my purse, rushing downstairs as Jake waited for me. “Come on. I can’t be late! God, of course I would make myself late.” I said as I rushed by him. “Katie, hang on.” He said, following me. “Did you not just hear me? I’m running behind, no thanks to my shitty time management skills.” I said, getting in the truck. Jake huffed, getting in beside me. I was a nervous wreck for this. Bradley has tried all week to calm me down and it did in the moment, then the nerves would creep back in. “Katie, can we talk?” I sighed, taking deep breaths and tried not to snap at him. “Jake.” I said as my voice broke and tears filled my eyes. “I am trying not to freak out right now. Could we talk after my session?” I asked and he gave me a small smile, nodding. “Yeah,” His voice was soft as he reached over the console, grabbing my hand and holding our intertwined fingers on it. “We can talk after.”

The rest of the ride was quiet but as Jake’s thumb rubbed my knuckles I calmed a little. But as soon as he let go and threw the truck in park, the nerves were back as I stared up at the tall building. I managed to get out and walk around the truck, heading for the door but I stopped short. My hand clutched the leather straps of my purse as it sat on my shoulder. Could I really do this? Tell a complete stranger everything that’s happened to me? Especially within the last few months? Well, I guess Jake was a complete stranger once. “Want me to go in with you?” I turned to see Jake leaning out the window of his truck. I sighed defeatedly. “Would you?” He smiled, rolling up the window and getting out. “C’mon.” He said, holding out his hand for me. “Thank you.” I said as I took his hand and walked inside. We took the elevator up to the eighth floor and down the hall to Dr. Davis’ office. We walked in and I smiled at the receptionist. “Hi, my name is Katie Blair. I have an appointment with Dr. Davis.” The lady hummed and typed on her keyboard. “Fill this out and have a seat.” She said in a bland tone. I gave her a small nod and took the clipboard, following Jake to some empty seats. We sat down and I looked at the clipboard. There was so much they needed to know, it was a little overwhelming. I eventually filled out everything I knew but when it came to things like insurance, I was stuck. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “I uh- I don’t have insurance and I don’t really know what to put.” I said and he leaned over, looking. “Here. Self-pay.” I checked the little box and sat back. 

He squinted at the paper that had my name on it. “Why does that name look familiar?” He asked. “Probably because it’s mine.” I sassed and he chuckled, nudging me. “Haha. No, I mean your first and middle name. Katie Scarlett.” I sighed, scrunching my nose at his question. “Ever seen Gone With The Wind?” It was my mother’s favorite movie, and of course. “No!” He gasped. “She didn’t.” I nodded. “If my last name had been O’Hara she would’ve kept me in corsets and hoop skirts.” He chuckled. “Well I like your name.” I nodded. “I do too. I think it’s pretty, just wish she had been more creative.” I said before getting up and walking over to the reception desk. “Here’s this.” She hummed, scowling at me as she looked up at me over the tops of her glasses. “For the record. You were late.” I bit my lip. My appointment was at four-thirty and we got into the office at four-thirty three. “Dr. Davis does not accept late patients.” My heart leapt into my throat. I got lucky with this early opening, they were booked out eight months otherwise. “Leave her alone Kathy.” A voice behind me spoke. “Hi, I’m Dr. Davis.” She held out her hand for me to shake. She was a little shorter than me, long dark brown hair and glasses on her face. She had to be about my mother’s age. And that worried me, what if she didn’t understand? “I-I’m Katie.” She smiled at me. “Well Katie, if you’re ready we can go into my office.” My gaze immediately shifted to Jake and he gave me a small smile. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” I smiled at him and followed Dr. Davis into her office before she closed the door behind us. “Have a seat. Want some water?” At her question I realized my throat would dry. “Yes, please.” 

I sat in one of the comfy looking chairs she had in her office as she grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge and handed it to me. “You look lovely.” She complimented, sitting across from me. “Oh, uh thank you. I look like a wreck though. No makeup, my hair is pulled up and I just grabbed something from my closet.” I said and she nodded. “You still look beautiful.” My face flushed and she narrowed her eyes at me. “My mother always told me I had to be well put together to be beautiful.” She hummed, writing something down on her notepad. “Why don’t you tell me about your mother.” She asked and I took a deep breath. “She’s not a good person.” She nodded, writing stuff down. “And why is that?” I was a little agitated but I knew she had to ask. “I never remember her being necessarily kind to me. When I was little she had me in beauty pageants, my talent was a gymnastics routine and I was good at it. I would come in first almost every time and she would be so proud.” I said as tears gathered in my eyes. “I was seven and she set up my equipment. I threw a backhandspring on the balance beam, fell off and somehow snapped my femur in half.” She nodded. “That must have been painful.” I pursed my lips. “It was.” My hand fell to my leg, something I haven’t done in years. “I felt it immediately, my thigh was curved medially.” I said, using my hand to curve away from my body all the way down to my knee which pointed inwards. “I cried. God did I cry. Everyone panicked and one father was a medic and rushed over. But just before that I remember my mom telling me to shut up and not grab attention. But as soon as he came over, she was the worried mother, crying over her child's pain.” 

She hummed, passing me a box of tissues. “That makes you mad?” “No shit it makes me mad.” I snapped before taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She shook her head with a smile. “No, that’s good. You should be mad. Tell me more.” I nodded. “Um, I couldn’t make friends. My mother tried to tell me we were better than everyone, but it never stuck. I was a social child, I loved talking to people and making friends but as soon as I would really get to know someone, form a bond we would move. Eventually I just stopped trying and before I knew it, totally isolated.” I said, wanting to pull my knees up to my chest, but I was in a dress and that’s not lady like. “They wanted me to go to law school. So I did.” She hummed. “And how was that?” “Awful. I was the freak of the school. I get excited about things that no one else seems to care about.” She hummed again. “Like what?” I bit my lip, looking down. “Um, I used to have some fish and I would constantly talk to anyone about them that would listen.” I started pulling on my thumbs. “What were their names?” She asked and I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Um, splish and splash were my two goldfish, Georgie was my guppy, Simon was an angelfish and then Ripley was a neon tetra.” She smiled at me. “Do you have a picture?” I nodded enthusiastically. When I got into my old backup account I saved a few pictures of my fish as well. I just couldn’t go without pictures of them. “Oh my, they’re so pretty.” She said, adjusting her glasses and I grinned. “Thank you.” I said, putting my phone back in my purse.

“What happened to them?” My breath caught in my throat, not expecting her to be so direct. I thought back to how angry my dad was and a chill ran down my spine. “I was supposed to be studying, but I had done it so much I just wanted to read my book.” She raised a brow but nodded. “My dad was already mad and when he saw I wasn’t studying, he got even more angry and swiped all my old pageant trophies off my dresser. He said I was lazy and stupid and told me I would be nothing without him. He tipped over my bookshelf, trashed my CD’s and when I told him I didn’t need him, he ripped my glasses from my face.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at me before writing in her notes. “Go on.” She motioned me to continue. “He told me if I wasn’t going to use my glasses to study, I must not need them. Then he took one of my textbooks and crushed them on my desk.” Her jaw was practically on the floor as I went on. “He threw me into the table that held my fish tank and he said he was sick of them, so he launched the book into the side of the tank. It shattered and they all flooded out onto the floor. They flopped around and I put them in a container of water, but none of them survived.” Tears filled my eyes at the memory. “Then he told me to get the hell over it and to clean up the mess.” 

“Katie. That’s abuse.” I nodded. “I know that now.” She sighed, taking a breath. “Anything else?” I hummed. “Can I just tell you recent stuff?” She nodded. “Not long before my dad killed my fish, my friend Jake, the one out in the waiting room, came over and helped me clean my fish tank and my parents came home early.” I thought back to the angry look on my fathers face. “As soon as the door shut, he grabbed me by my hair, dragged me from where I was standing in the tub, and threw me to the floor. Jake didn’t leave the house, he just closed the door but he was still there.” I said, wiping tears from my eyes. “I managed to get him to leave just as my dad pulled off his belt and started hitting me.” She just seemed shocked by everything I was saying. “That’s not even the worst.” I said and she sighed. “Katie. We don’t have to go over everything today. We can do another session.” I shook my head. “I really wanna get this out.” She nodded again and got comfortable in her chair. “The day after my dad killed my fish, I ran off with Jake to his house. But I panicked and thought my dad would ruin his life so I went back.” She furrowed her brows. “How would your dad ruin Jake’s life?” She asked. “Jake is a Lieutenant in the navy. My dad is his Fleet Commander.” She hummed. “And how high in rank is Fleet Commander?” I chuckled, leaning my head back on the chair. “The highest. It’s the equivalent of an Army General. He is the person with the most control.” She hummed. “What happened when you went back?” 

“They tricked me.” She raised her brows in surprise. “They pretended like they knew they did wrong, and even apologized and told me they loved me.” It was silent for a moment as tears fell down my face. “That’s the first time I remember them saying they loved me… and it was a lie.” My voice broke as I grabbed a tissue. “I woke up the next morning to a lock outside my door. They locked me in and told me I was never coming back out.” She stared at me in shock. “How long were you locked in there?” I sighed. “A week. It was a Saturday when my mom made me get up and put me in the shower for the first time. She did my hair and I did my makeup before she put me in a white dress and locked me in again. She told me I had to look perfect for who they were bringing over.” I said as I wiped my eyes again. “I overheard them when they walked past the door. My mom said she didn’t care what these people did with me once I was out of her house.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How did you get out?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “They left and I kind of panicked. The door was locked, my windows were nailed shut, and I had no phone. But I sat against my bed and looked over at my desk. There was a curled cord hanging out of one of the drawers.” I chuckled. “It was my old landline, and thankfully my parents still had service running through the house. So I plugged in the phone jack and it worked. I called Jake and him and a few friends came in to get me out.” She gave me a small smile. “Sounds like great friends.” 

“They really are. Jake is letting me live with him now, but I feel so lost. I told him I would get a job but he offered for me to live there and go to nursing school. My mother always controlled my life, now that I got away. I don’t really know what to do.” She slapped her notepad down on the arm of her chair and leaned forward with a wide grin. “Do something for yourself.” I took a deep breath. “I came to therapy.” I gave her a smile and she chuckled. “Do something else.” I pursed my lips, thinking about what I could do. “Can I give a suggestion?” I nodded, feeling like a little guidance would help. “Go to nursing school.” My eyebrows shot up. “Really?” She nodded enthusiastically. “You have someone letting you live in their house rent free. Going to school, and working to pay bills would be so difficult. You are in a very good situation right now and you need to take advantage of it.” I nodded, biting my lip. “I’ll think about it.” She nodded. “Good.” We spoke a little more about our next steps in therapy and my mother’s voice in my head. By the end of my session I felt a little better and we stood. “I would really like to try EMDR with you. I think it could really help you move forward in the healing process.” I nodded. “You think I’ll ever be normal?” I asked and she chuckled. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my line of work. Normal doesn’t exist. But we will work together to get you in the right headspace and ways to go through your life, without your mother’s voice in your head.” I nodded as she handed me a few pamphlets on EMDR, something she wanted to try with me. I was finally getting help. I felt a wave of emotions washing over me as I stared down at the pamphlets. Tears filled my eyes as I looked over at Dr. Davis. “Thank you, Dr. Davis.” She smiled at me, shaking my hand. “You’re welcome, Katie. Now, what are you going to do after this?” I chuckled, smiling at her. “Seriously consider nursing school.” She nodded and walked me out. “Make another appointment for whatever is convenient to you. We’ll figure out a time frame next time.” I nodded before she called another patient in. 

“You okay?” Jake asked as he walked over. He saw the tears in my eyes and opened his arms, pulling me into a hug. “I will be.” He nodded before releasing me to schedule my next appointment, but his arm never left my shoulder. I made another appointment for a month, thinking that would be a good time. Jake paid, which I felt guilty for, and grabbed my hand, walking us into the elevator then out to the truck. Once we got in, I wiped my eyes and turned to him. “Didn’t you have something to tell me?” He seemed a little surprised. “Oh, yeah. Bu-but it can wait till tomorrow.” I furrowed my brows as I leaned my head on the window. “You sure?” He nodded, giving me a soft smile. “I’m sure.” He asked me if I wanted to go eat somewhere before going home, but I felt so exhausted we just stopped for fast food and ate it on the couch. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked when we cleaned up and sat back down on the couch. “Yeah, I’m just really tired.” He hummed as my head laid back on the couch. It wasn’t long until I passed out on the couch, but the next morning I woke up in my bed. I looked at the clock and saw it said nine a.m. I slept for over twelve hours? I fell asleep before eight last night. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Jake was already at work. Jake. I thought for a second and realized he had to have carried me to bed. Unless I walked to bed and don’t remember? I’ll ask him when he gets home. With that I flung the covers off of me and grabbed my phone. I had a text from Phoenix asking about a birthday party for Rooster, and one from Jake asking about dinner tonight. “What could he have to say that he needs me and Kelly at dinner?” I asked myself as I went downstairs to make breakfast. I spent the day doing some research on EMDR and found a lot of interesting info on it. Before I could lose track of time, I showered a whole two hours before Jake came home, then tossed a load of towels in the washer. 

I couldn’t figure out what to wear so I texted Kelly and asked what she would be wearing. I had never been to this place but I had heard of it. She finally texted me back when Jake got home, saying she was wearing a navy blue slip dress. It gave me an idea of what to wear so I shifted through my closet as Jake knocked on the door frame. “Hey.” I turned and smiled at him as I pulled out a dress and held it up. “Hi. How was your day?” I asked. “Busy. I spent five out of nine hours in the air.” I poked my bottom lip out at him. “I’m sorry.” I said and he chuckled. “What are you doing?” He asked. “Just trying to find a dress. I’ve never been to this place so I text Kelly and asked what she was wearing.” He hummed, crossing his right leg over his left, hands in his pockets as he leaned on the door frame. The t-shirt showed off his muscular tan arms so well. “And what is she wearing?” He asked and I giggled. “Well she didn’t tell me I couldn’t tell you, but I won’t. All I’ll say is it’s a little navy number.” I said, winking at him. He smiled at me, watching as I held another dress up in front of my body as I looked at myself in the mirror in my room. “And what are you wearing?” I shrugged. “Not sure yet. But when I find out, I’ll get your opinion.” He grinned at me before turning to walk away. “Hey Jake?” I asked and he turned back to me. “Did you…” I froze, feeling weird about asking this question. He walked closer, propping his elbow on the dresser and looking down at me with a grin. His face was so close to mine, his minty breath fanning across my face. “Did I what?” He asked. I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I pushed past the not so pure thoughts crossing my mind. “Did you bring me up to bed last night?” I asked and he smiled at me so widely I thought I would go blind. 

“I did. I couldn’t let you be all uncomfortable on the couch.” He said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten up.” He shook his head, wrapping his fingers around one of my curls that I coated with finishing spray to keep it intact. “Don’t apologize. It was like lifting a sheet of paper.” He said before leaning in and kissing my forehead. “Thank you.” I said as he turned to walk out. “We have two hours before we have to pick up Kelly and make our reservations.” I nodded as he walked down to his room. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts but once I did I threw myself into my closet. I couldn’t think about him that way. He was a friend, and one that was doing so much for me. Plus, he was in a relationship and he would never be interested in me anyway. Finally I found a dress and hung it on the outside of my closet before going and putting my makeup on. It was soft and simple, light pink eyeshadow to match the flowers on my dress. Once that was done we had half an hour before we left so I put on the dress and grabbed my nude heels. I had no jewelry which felt weird, I almost felt incomplete without it. So I just grabbed my purse and walked downstairs where I put my shoes on. “Woah.” I turned to find Jake standing on the second to last step. “Too much?” I asked and he stared at me for a second before shaking his head. “No. No, not at all.” I smiled, brushing the skirt of my dress. It was a black maxi dress with pink magnolia blooms on it. It had a split on one side of the skirt and the top was a cross halter which left my back completely exposed. 

“You look beautiful.” I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. “Thank you.” I said and he smiled at me. “Ready, darlin’?” He asked and I nodded. “Yeah.” He grabbed my hand and led me out to the truck, opening the passenger door for me and helping me in. Once he got in we drove to Kelly’s house and I tried to pry the news out of him. “Oh come on. Please tell me!” I said, leaning across the center console and looking up at him with big doe eyes. “I’m not looking at you.” I sat back in my seat and pouted. “Why not?” I asked, offended. “I’d give in immediately if I did.” I felt a surge of something rush through my chest and I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Soon we arrived at Kelly’s apartment complex and she walked out her door. I got out of the front seat, leaving the door open for her as I crawled into the back seat. I got in and buckled just as she climbed in. “Gee, your roommate does more for me than you do when getting in the truck.” She joked and he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of annoyance in her tone. “Hi baby.” He said and they both leaned over the console, kissing each other sweetly. I gave them a small smile as they pulled apart, they intertwined fingers resting on the console. Just like ours were yesterday, and I frowned at the memory. There was a tension in the truck and we rode in silence. When we arrived, Jake handed the truck over to the valet and we walked in. When Jake helped Kelly out of the car, I really got a look at her dress. A navy midi slip dress with thin straps and a split up the thigh. She really looked pretty with her hair curled and pulled into a pretty bun, a few hairs framing her face. She was so pretty and I felt very… plain compared to her. 

I shook my insecurities aside as we walked in and we were led to a table in a back corner, soft lights illuminating the table. Jake pulled out mine and Kelly’s chairs before sitting down himself. He was next to Kelly and I was directly across from him. He rested his forearms on the table and I couldn’t look away from his arms, which had the sleeves rolled up. He looked so good in his navy shirt and black slacks, but I watched as his hand fell to her thigh and I felt a little dejected at the sight. But I had no right to be. I shook the thoughts from my mind and tuned into the conversation. “So, Katie. Jake told me you had therapy yesterday.” Jake’s face fell and I felt a little embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know, but I didn’t tell Jake that either so I can’t get mad. “Um, yeah. I did.” Suddenly the waiter came over to take our drink orders. Jake and Kelly ordered some wine and I ordered water. “She’ll also have a glass of chardonnay.” My eyes snapped to Jake and the waiter nodded, walking away. “What if I didn’t want wine?” I asked and he chuckled. “I saw you looking at the wine menu.” Kelly immediately turned to me. “So how did your session go yesterday?” I sighed. “Um, really good actually. I think it’s gonna be good for me.” She nodded and our drinks came. I immediately picked up my glass, taking a large sip. Probably very un-lady-like but I didn’t care. By the time the food arrived I was two glasses in and feeling it. Hardly drinking makes for a low alcohol tolerance and I needed food to fix it. I sat here quietly while we waited and dug in as soon as the pasta sat in front of me. I listened to the conversation and sobered up quite a bit by the end of dinner.

“So… Katie.” He said, catching my attention as the waiter took my plate. He opened his mouth as he looked at me before quickly snatching the dessert menu. “Want some tiramisu?” He asked and I furrowed my brows at him. “Um, no thanks. I think we’ve racked up quite the bill tonight.” I said and he shook his head. “Nope, we're having dessert.” He said and caught our waiter's attention. “Three orders of tiramisu, please.” The waiter nodded and turned away. Kelly smacked his arm and caught his attention. “Tell her.” She practically growled out. My heart immediately sank. He was kicking me out. He’s grown tired of me and can’t stand to have me in his house anymore. He was throwing me out with nowhere to go. My breathing picked up and I felt like I couldn’t get any breath into my lungs. “Katie.” Jake caught my attention as the waiter set the coffee dessert in front of me, as well as another glass of wine. I snatched the glass, downing it as fast as possible. “Are you okay?” Kelly asked and I shook my head. “Not really. I’m so nervous I’m shaking.” I said and Jake furrowed his brows as Kelly squeezed his hand on the table. “Why are you nervous?” I sighed, squeezing my hands between my thighs to ground myself. 

“You’re kicking me out.” He seemed shocked and immediately leaned forward. “Katie. I would never do that. Why would you think that?” He asked and I shrugged, grabbing my spoon and digging in. “I figured you couldn’t stand to have me around anymore.” I said and he shook his head. “Katie no.” I sighed. “Then what is she pushing you to tell me?” I asked and he sighed, looking at Kelly as she took his hand in hers. “Katie. I’m getting deployed.” I looked at him shocked and it felt like everything was crashing down. Without Jake I would really be lost. If my parents found me, they would have no problem dragging me out of that house and back into the room. Hell, they probably wouldn’t feed me for a week. “Wh-what?” I stuttered out, my voice meek and small. “They’re shipping out the entire team at the end of the month. For six weeks.” I sat there as tears filled my eyes, looking down at the dessert in front of me, suddenly no longer enticed by it. “Katie? Are you gonna be okay?” Kelly asked and I looked up at her. “Um, to be honest. I don’t know.” I immediately stood, grabbing my purse. “I need some air.” I said before rushing past them and outside.

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[shootingstarpilot]

instructions for a good weekend:

go teach yourself rollerblading without watching a single youtube video.

lose control repeatedly.

fall flat on your ass repeatedly.

bruise your tailbone so badly that it hurts to sit down.

(repeatedly.)

become aware of how your body moves in new and exciting ways.

laugh when your sixty-five-pound dog tries to sit on your lap to make you feel better and gets drool all over your glasses.

do all of this in the deserted streets of a golf community you do not live in that bears more resemblance to that creepy-ass town in the wrinkle of time than anything human.

go to walmart for that adhesive you've been meaning to get for three weeks so you can repair the two mugs that you broke within ten minutes of each other.

leave walmart with the adhesive and a cute hedgehog mug and a bag of mandarins and a discounted box of cinnamon rolls.

eat three of the six cinnamon rolls before you pull into your apartment.

text your brother who you have not had a proper conversation with in four years but your parents have been keeping you updated on his comings and goings and he's just moved to south korea to teach english so to hell with it if you're ever going to attempt to bridge a gap it might as well be now.

reply to your brother's response and commiserate over terrible supervision and toxic workplaces.

try and fail to repair your mugs.

get adhesive all over your fingers.

try and succeed in repairing your mugs.

feel accomplished. feel good. feel more human than you have in a week.

do not forget this feeling.

write.

eat another cinnamon roll for dessert.

[mortiskiller]

A companion piece, the feeder perspective to a story by @thefoolandthehermit and I. Make sure to read them both!

It was a short drive to the dispensary, maybe thirty minutes round trip, enough time for the groceries I ordered to be ready for pick up. As I pulled into the driveway, the kitchen light caught my attention. “Silly girl must be hungry after last night.” I thought, grabbing the groceries, every bag bulging with ingredients and treats for my voluptuous growing girl. 

The sound of me opening the door stopped her dead in the hall. Thick round and heavy ass cheeks stretched a pair of pink panties to their limits, a drooping pair of love handles covered the waistband of her oh so small panties. 

“Princess.” I addressed her, she knew to turn around. Thick pillar-like legs that touched to her calves shifted her jiggling bulk around. A light red spread over her plump peach shaped cheeks as she looked at me, hands filled with a half gallon of chocolate milk and two cold slices of pizza. “You know you’re not supposed to be on your feet today, remember?” 

As she chewed on her pizza the sudden realization of our deal came back to her.  Today my lardy princess was not supposed to move a muscle besides to eat or use the bathroom. A whole day of being pampered, being lazy, being indulgent. The light red of her cheeks deepened as she realized her mistake. Placing the bags in the kitchen as she finished her pizza and chugged half the milk, my hands gliding over her wide seat filling hips, squeezing her hips as her legs buckle slightly and a breathy moan escapes from between lips still glistening with milky chocolate. I steer her like a cow grazing in a pasture, she knows she as no choice in the matter, it's not like the 400 plus pound princess can protest anyway. 

She has been talking about this day all week. A day off work and a day for me to remind her that she was my feedee. My growing, thickening, cow. 

I spin her around and sit her down onto the couch, aiming for the dent her sixty five inch hips have catered into it. Her belly and tits jiggle as she falls into the dent, the usual chorus of creaking wood and grating metal greeting her prodigious bulk. 

“The couch could not break anymore.” she said looking at me with a slight hope she was not too big. A slight smile crossed my face as I kissed her forehead, “We’ll see…”. 

In a short time the coffee table in front of her is filled end to end with the bounty of the grocery store. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and her favorite, a heaping mound of chicken and waffles. Her eyes look to be fucking the food as her tongue licks plump lips, her chubby hands and sausage fingers rub a gut that spills across her thighs and on to her knees. I could see she wanted to leap off the couch and kiss me, like she did 200 pounds ago, but instead her loving eyes drew me to sit down as her favorite bong was pressed into her pudgy belly. Her hips flowed into my side, warm plush fat sending a shiver up my spine. 

Over the next hour I took turns bringing the bong to her lips and shoving in forkfuls of food as the weed dulled her sense of time and space. My plan was to get her so high she loses all control and gives in completely to me. Each bite is followed by a deep hit of the bong. No exhaling, just swallowing and chewing. 

As the last bite of waffle passed her sticky lips, her groans and gentle moos filled the living room. In just under an hour my SSBBW cow had finished a breakfast big enough for a family of five and smoked two grams of weed. Eyes closed, leaned back into her ass groove, as her hands rubbed and kneaded her tight belly. She was so lost in the stuffing she did not notice me grab her vape pen. Loaded inside was a new flavor of high potency THC, just what I needed to make her mine for the day. A fuzzy headed cow mooing for more food. 

The cold metal of the pen touched her lips, “Take a hit now.”. Her lips curl around the tip, inhaling deeply as she takes a large hit. I can tell the weed is hitting her hard. Her eyes open wide as the effects take hold. What little hold on reality she had is slipping. Her hands gripped her bulging upper belly as greed took over. In a matter of minutes she is begging for more food. 

Bag of chips and candy, plates of grilled cheese and bowls of soup, half a dozen boosts disappear into her cavernous gut as the weed keeps her fuzzy and greedy. 

Rubbing her belly as she chugs the last boost, I marvel at her size. Her belly is so tight and firm, but the lower belly rolls are soft as butter, spreading over her thighs like an avalanche of creamy stretch mark covered blubber. I take time to massage her taut belly, kneading it to compact all the food down so her weed addled brain thinks she is hungry again. A roaring blech brings her back to some semblance of reality as I continue making room for her to eat. “Daddy, is it lunch time?”. She asks through barely opened eyes blurry and red from the immense amount of THC pulsing around her body. I chuckle slightly thinking that she thinks hours have flown by, instead of the two since her breakfast feeding session. It's barely past ten in the morning. 

As my hands push gas out of her our, both ends of her showing the effects of eating ten thousand calories in three hours, I lean into her yielding form and whisper, “You need more, baby. You're not ready yet. I need you so much fatter. More fuzzy brained, more obedient.”. I bring the pen back to her lips and leave it there till she takes a deep, long, hard hit. My other hand snakes between her thighs, I feel them wiggle and squeeze my hand. “Is my cow getting hungry and horny?” thick warm honied words fill her ear. She takes another deep hit of the pen. "That's it, get nice and dumb piggy. Just how I like you." Taking the pen away her head falls back as she moans and moos, she always does this when her brain is soaked in weed, arousal, and dopamine from being fed. 

I take my time to grope her fattening body, licking and kissing each stretch mark, tasting her mouth and the flavors of her meals. The oven dings to let me know the pan of brownies is done. As I bring the warm, gooey and heavy pan laden with enough butter, sugar, and chocolate to kill a normal person, her mouth is hanging open. I see my opening and start shoving in hunks of brownie by the handful. She doesn't resist, just a dumb smile between bites as she paws at her FUPA and thighs. Just how I like her, stuffed and so horny she is an eating machine. 

The last handful I scrape out of the pan and into her mouth brings a rumble for her stomach. I can feel her belly shake as it begs for more food. The piggy's belly wants more. Such a deeply arousing moment for a feeder brings a grunt from my mouth. "Such a perv." she laughs and I smirk at her. 

"Says the half naked fatty, eating and smoking whatever I give her." a familiar crimson shoots across her cheeks. My hands pull her thighs apart, causing her gut to drop between her legs. A gasp rips out of her mouth followed by a deep throaty moan as the full force of her obesity hits her. She is quiet after that. 

This continued for hours. Between naps to settle her stomach and give me time to prepare meal after meal, she was an absolute blimp by the end of the night. The appetite enhancers, shakes, weed, and mountains of food had rendered her immobile on the couch, at least until she could sleep for 24 hours. When I would use the bathroom or run to the pantry for something, her sweaty wheezing face would show me the futile attempts to move. 

She was too high, too fat, dependent on whatever I wanted to do next. After today, her body would convert this gluttony into new heavy immobilizing fat. Hanging sheets of lard that would make it easier and easier to feed her into a couch locked sow that could only eat, smoke, and groan. She lies there clutching her gravid looking belly, soothing it like a heavily pregnant woman, instead of a morbidly obese whale. As the food settled into her stomach, mixing and churning, every minute I could see her body struggle to hold the thirty thousand calories into her gut. 

The rocking back and forth of her hips told me she was unbearably horny. Under her hanging gut and hefty FUPA I can almost hear her genitals begging to be used. 

As I stood in the kitchen getting her dessert ready, a loud crack followed by her yelling for Daddy. I ran over to her looking over the immensity of her body, she had broken the couch and the splinters were under her ass. The sow was sitting on the floor! 

"I told you you'd break it.." I say standing at the door way chuckling.  "Look at you,  whiney and dumb. Bet you don't even understand that it was your fat ass that's broken the couch". She  shakes her head, then slowly realizes it was her beluga sized ass and gut that broke it.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. Please help me up, please!. I want to go to the bedroom! I want you to touch me!" she pleads as her flabby arms wave and beg for me to lift her up. Leaning over her, rubbing circles around her navel and holding a box of jelly donuts, her eyes see the dozen fried sugar bombs and her gut growls again.

"You're not going anywhere my sweet." I flip the box open and without hesitation shove a jelly filled donut sloppily into her mouth. My hand covers her mouth, making sure she can't even think about not swallowing the whole thing. She was so insatiable,her eating sounded like a fucking orgy. Wet squelching of her fat lips coated in thick layers of jelly and pastry, her moans from a packed mouth of fried dough and sugar, the high pitched screams as she pawed her hidden genitals. 

So focused on eating and taking the next doughnut whole, she failed to notice me spreading her legs, nibbling the soft sensitive flesh of her thighs. 

"More! Please!" she pleads and her words are met, another donut shoved into her mouth as I suck her buried clit. "Fuck!" muffled by pastry and lust comes from her lips. Her clit leaked into my mouth, I could swear it tasted like icing. 

"Cum on my face baby, you can cum as much as you want, you just have to keep eating." I say bringing another doughnut to her lips. Once the two donuts were gone there was little reprieve for her clit and her belly. I could tell the fast pace and force of the feeding was making her stuffed again and this was only donut three of twelve. Her  thighs tensing around my head let me know a second orgasm was ripping through her body.

Parting her legs, I kissed her deeply, "Keep eating princess, I promise if you finish it all Daddy will make you feel so good. I'll make sure I breed you nice and deep." my hand slaps her churning screaming gut and a belch loudly followed by a pained moan with hints of arousal.

I giggle at her "There's my growing girl. Now, have another donut. I'm not done with you and I won't be for a while-"

[gyuluttony]

i wanna see a nomin fic 👀 surprise me basically mwehehehe

ever since their little puppy play messages showed up on my tl, they've been like rotting my brain and i feel like at this stage, i'm like allergic to doing something that doesn't have mutual gain because it ticks like every box for me.

Waddle You Home

This is a feederism fic and features weight gain, mutual gain, breaking of clothes, stuckage, and smut. Don't like, don't read.

"C'mon, I'm sick of seeing you moping around the apartment whenever I go to hang out with Haechan!" Mark whined as Jeno flopped over on the couch.

"No, it's fine. I'm used to this sort of betrayal at this point." He spoke it so flatly that it was hard to take it seriously but his smile consumed all his features when he felt a sweater land on his head, the act of rebellion from his roommate as he laughed, "It's fine. You guys go have fun... I'll just order some food or something." He opened his phone to scroll, browsing potential places before looking up at Mark who was now hovering over him.

"Again?" Mark scratched his head as he looked at the door, "Bud, I know you're sad but you know that, food doesn't fill in the gaps of your heart right?" A good natured pat to Jeno's stomach, which didn't feel as firm as it used to as his face warmed slightly.

"Yeah, I know that?" Jeno replied as coolly as he could when Mark shrugs and walks away, seemingly satisfied with the answer as he walked out the door to text Haechan that he was on his way. The sound of the locks clicking shut made Jeno sit up as he processed what just happened.

He didn't think it would become noticeable that fast.

Jeno might have started the season heartbroken after a long requited crush fizzled out with no chance after he had gotten with someone else but it was quickly resolved when he met someone on a dating website. He knew there was a quickly eroding stigma with meeting people this way however, this wasn't the average dating site.

It was a site for those with a feederism fetish to meet and interact with one another. He had always been aware of his desire to make a guy grow as well as a quieter desire to grow himself so he lurked on there for a good amount of time, using the photos guys uploaded of their growing bodies as fuel during the lonelier months. He wasn't a completely blank profile, opting to upload shots of his toned body and a face photo in private in case he talked to someone.

The last thing he expected to find was someone who he could connect to but people met their matches in the most peculiar ways. Jaemin was someone on the app who had grown in popularity and waistline lately and Jeno couldn't remember whether he had messaged first or Jaemin did. The close proximity they lived to each other made it feel close enough that it didn't feel like it was on a place like this and the same age made them connect instantly.

From what Jeno learned, Jaemin was a student that was graduating soon and in the haze of his last year, had put a clean sixty pounds on his figure, adding a nice gut on top of arms that looked like they could choke someone out. Basically, Jeno was always losing it when he uploaded a photo and they started talking about how the gain had snuck up on Jaemin and slowly he learned that Jaemin was someone who could put his influence on anyone he spoke to... that or Jeno was incredibly attracted to him and was willing to do what he wanted to make him happy.

The conversations that they shared slowly became more than just the kink that they shared but as they continued to nurture a mutual understanding of the other, they realized how comfortable they were with the other. With Jaemin, he wanted something that could be a little more than typical feedist relationship and with Jeno, how he wanted to gain himself as well as try out being someone's puppy, which excited Jaemin as much as it did him.

His phone buzzed as he looked at what Jaemin had texted him. They swapped off of the in-app messenger and started to use their phone numbers which was making everything feel all too real now that he was registered as a contact in the other man's phone.

'he said all that???? lololol i mean it makes sense you've been eating like a fat ass lately so it was only a matter of time before it showed.'

Jeno felt his face flush while he watched the three dots bounce up and down.

'besides, i told you that i wanted a big dog and you're just catching up to me. i'm a big guy now so it wouldn't make sense to have a small dog.'

Licking his lips, he typed out his reply as he felt himself growing excited,

'mhm'

'c'mon, i don't like that response lolol you can do better samoyed'

'woof woof'

Jeno sees the speech bubble pop a couple of times as he deduces Jaemin's trying to think of a reply but is too flustered to keep his cool. Lifting his sweater, Jeno looks at his stomach again. It's no wonder Mark was noticing it more. It was bulging upwards even when he lied down. His pants were squeezing him as they showed off his love handles more and they were starting to grow more tight around his thighs. His bulge wasn't making it any less tight as he snapped a photo and sent it to Jaemin, pushing out his stomach more so that he looked bigger.

'mmm?'

He could tell Jaemin was probably jerking off to the photo as it wasn't until he was chowing down on the burgers that he ordered when he responded,

'you put on that weight faster than i thought. it's going to make that first meeting happen even sooner.'

Originally, they planned to meet somewhere in a couple of months... but the original goal was to see how much damage Jeno was going to do to his waistline in that time before they met. However, at the rate that Jeno has been expanding, they were going to meet pretty soon. He just had a knack for getting fatter apparently. As the multiple burgers in his order made their way into his gut, he burped and rubbed his bloated belly.

Maybe he wanted to meet him sooner and that's why his body was doing its everything in fattening him up faster and he couldn't say that he disliked the feeling.

-

It wasn't a farfetched statement to say that starting to talk to Jaemin was something that changed Jeno's life for the better. He had spent month after month pining for guys that weren't looking his way, consistently upset with his body despite being in peak physical condition year round and just overall unhappy with himself.

Coming to terms with his struggling in the dating pool and unconventional fetish of being into helping guys put on weight was something that was difficult for a gay man of this era so he had resigned all hope to just ignoring the part that makes him tick. Seeing guys put on weight and just generally lose their figure to gluttony.

Jeno had fully resigned to not ever indulging this side of his habits and living vicariously through pleasuring himself while seeing what gainers across the world were doing to themselves. But, everything switched when he got a message from Jaemin on the website that they were on.

He was the type to fall hard and fast and maybe that's why he was influenced by Jaemin's words so easily.

"you call that a meal? jeno you're such a big guy i'm sure you can handle more food than that."

"you said you were still hungry so what's stopping you from getting another combo... or three."

"that's what i thought... until i broke my pants earlier this week. i think you'll be on that path soon too. more like a pig than a dog now."

It was one thing to picture helping a guy get fatter through his own help but Jaemin was doing it so effortlessly, not realizing the impact that he was having on Jeno who was so eager to listen to the requests. Within the past couple of months, he could hardly remember the nights where he didn't go to sleep stuffed to the brim, rubbing his gut and seeing Jaemin's encouraging messages.

It's not like Jeno was putting on the weight alone. Some messages were shot the other way and he knew that Jaemin was always caught off guard when Jeno bit back in the way that he usually did.

"you said you'd leave treats for me but here you are so stuffed you can't even get up? who's the pig here?"

"jaemin, you'd think you'd wear things that fit but you keep busting your buttons just about every week. how long until your chair is next?"

"it makes sense your arms are so buff considering how much fat you have to lift when you touch yourself, jaeminnie."

Swinging out of left field was enough to get Jaemin to lose his mind with Jeno, taking more time to reply and he was familiarized with the idea of knowing Jaemin was getting off on the messages.

They had fallen into a fattening sync with each other and it was no wonder their growth photos had accelerated since they started talking. Jeno was more than eager to catch up to Jaemin's growth and with his desire to be his fat lap dog, it wasn't going to be hard to do so.

-

The day of their promised meeting finally arrived as Jeno pulled up to his apartment complex, more nervous than anything else. It was going without saying that the feelings that he had for Jaemin weren't something that were just in the feederism bubble.

He loved the fact that he had grown to this size. Being conscious of how his gut bounced with each step that he took. Choosing to take the stairs as he had to adjust to how much his thighs rubbed while he took a step up and how much weight was weighing him down. A simple stair climb that would have taken him about five minutes a couple months ago was now taking more than ten as he made his way up.

But, the feelings he had for Jaemin ran a lot deeper than just this feeling of wanting to grow under his hand. He wanted to be with him as a lover. They've already shared so much about themselves. Their insecurities. Their fears. What they aspire to do in life. It just so happened they connected through their mutual kink and mutual desire to help the other grow.

"the doors open when you get here."

Jeno caught his breath once he arrived at Jaemin's floor, already a little excited from the exertion that got him to this point before he ended up in front of the door. Twisting the knob revealed the empty walkway before he saw the man who was responsible for his physique move his way into view, his gut leading the way as he smiled.

"There's my puppy." Jeno couldn't help but jog over, reveling in the way his fat bounced and seeing the look on Jaemin's face that told him that he was doing the same. It felt better to be hugged by those strong arms he grew to adore than just admire them online but they were a lot softer than he once would have guessed.

Their bellies kissing made it difficult for the hug to be proper, fat melding into the other as Jaemin looked a little meek. "Ah, is it bad that I wanted to do things a little more properly... but right now, I don't think I can get just enough with a hug?"

Jeno felt his heart swell before he moaned as he felt Jaemin's hands wander his fat body, "You're even bigger than I thought you'd be. I can't believe I helped put all this on and I'm just getting to feel it now."

There's a cocky smile on Jeno's face, "Of course. I got this fat just for you and you're the one that spoiled me to this size." He fondled Jaemin's chest which got a surprise gasp from the man, "It's not like you're that small yourself though, huh, Jaeminnie."

They're so intertwined with each other that Jeno can feel the way that his words send a chill through Jaemin's spine as he smiles, "Some mouth on this dog. Maybe we'll have to see how many treats it'll take to make you nice and obedient."

In a whirlwind of kisses and exploring the vast bodies they had worked up, they end up in Jaemin's kitchen. Jeno hops on the counter after a few attempts, his belly spilling into his lap as he spreads his legs where Jaemin moves in closer, their bellies pressing into each other once again.

A small little peck, full of more endearment than lust is enough to make Jeno feel like he's just a lovestruck puppy before Jaemin opens the fridge and pulls out some cartons of heavy cream. Raising the spout to his lips, Jeno drinks eagerly, his hands on his belly as he feels himself inflate with each eager gulp.

The praises that Jaemin sings to him with each carton is enough to make him break any record that he once had with how much he could drink, feeling so full that he might burst. He burps before gasping as Jaemin moves his belly up, rubbing his crotch.

"I have to pet everywhere I can on my puppy after all. Belly rubs for a good boy." Thanks to how bloated he felt, the outward pressure of Jaemin's firm hands was coaxing more burps out of him and only adding to the pleasure that he felt like he was drowning in. His hand teased the fat pad, brushing it and running it over Jeno's length.

"You always look amazing but I think I love seeing you in this much pleasure, puppy." Jeno's eyes open wide at the revelation and Jaemin can't help but look a little embarrassed at the reaction. "Just... forget I said that."

"Say it again." Jeno hopped off the counter, wincing at how his belly moved at the sudden feeling before he wrapped his arm around Jaemin's fat waist, feeling his arm blending into fat as he looked at him with a smile so wide.

They seemed to just get each other perfectly as Jaemin repeated, "I love you."

Their lips crashed into each other as Jeno's hand snuck into Jaemin's pants after feeling the other man rut his erection into him. He pulled away with a smile, "Jaemin, do you really have nothing that fits because how did you burst your pants when I didn't even feed you yet?"

"I was just that excited to see you." Jeno chuckles before he hears Jaemin add, "And maybe I had a little panic meal before you got here."

He didn't expect to find something as perfect as this online but he wasn't going to complain and given how Jaemin's gut seemed to hunger for more, he knew that he was going to feel the exact same way about it.

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 6)

Links:

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I follow Ms. Clemmons through the door and into an enormous room that I can only assume is the perthean co-principal's office. I survey the room from a balcony at least fifty— no, sixty feet off the ground. It's very similar to Ms. Clemmons' office, with the same bookshelves, filing cabinets, and desk. What's different are the files and stacks of paperwork scattered about in a disorganized mess.

As I scan the room in an attempt to familiarize myself with my surroundings, that's when it happens. That's when my eyes meet his. His eyes are a deep blue, and wide with enthusiasm I can only begin to wish I had. His gaze pierces through me like a dagger and leaves me helpless to do anything but stare right back, breathless.

My legs shake. My hands tremble. The blood rushing to my face is so hot, I feel as though I might melt into a puddle. I nearly lose my footing as my vision threatens to fade to black.

"Are you alright?" Ms. Clemmons says, breaking me from my trance.

"Don't worry, everything's fine!" says another voice, clearly in a panic.

Behind the large desk is a perthean woman much younger than Ms. Clemmons. Her black hair just barely reaches her shoulders, and her brown eyes are filled with surprise. She straightens her red blouse and black cardigan in a hurry, and then turns her gaze to me.

"Ms. Kaylin Finch? Your father has told me so much about you," she says.

That's right— the perthean co-principal at this school used to be deskmates with Dad. That must be why she looks so familiar. I know I've seen the two of them video chat before.

"I'm Mrs. Hudson, the perthean co-principal of Pacific. It's nice to finally meet you!" Her right arm crosses her chest, and she leans forward.

"Y-you, too," I say, kicking myself for stuttering as I lay my own right arm over my chest and lean forward. Wait, did I bow far enough? I don't want to look impolite!

"This," Mrs. Hudson says, motioning to the perthean on the other side of the desk, "is Mr. Derrick Drake."

The boy turns to face me with a big smile spread across his face. His gaze pierces right through me once more as he too crosses his right arm over his chest and leans forward. I reciprocate, but this time I worry if I bowed too low.

"Kaylin— I mean, Ms. Finch," Mrs. Hudson says. "Are you familiar with balcony etiquette?"

"Balcony etiquette?" I ask.

"Have you ever been lifted from a balcony before?" Ms. Clemmons clarifies.

Figuring what must be coming next, I want to run away as far as my trembling legs will carry me, but instead I restrain myself and simply shake my head 'no.'

"Mr. Drake," says Mrs. Hudson, turning to face my deskmate. "Do you remember how to perform balcony etiquette?"

"Yes, ma'am," the boy says.

"Why don't you teach your new deskmate how it works?"

The boy laughs nervously, rubbing one arm. Mrs. Hudson continues to look at him expectantly. Then, the boy turns his gaze back to me. He's walking right towards me! What should I do?! My heart races at a thousand beats per minute, and I can't help but stumble backward. The sound of his footsteps pounding the ground rings in my ears and sends shivers down my spine. I have to get out of here! I want to run, but my feet remain stuck to the balcony floor. Why can't I move?!

"Ms. Finch, right?" asks the boy, his voice booming in my ears.

I slowly crane my neck back to look up at him, and try my hardest to keep myself from trembling. No matter what happens, I can't let any of these pertheans find out how terrified I am of them. If they find out, who knows what they'll think of me. Or what they'll do to me...

"Mhm," I squeak out, nodding my head.

"Great," says the boy, smiling. "You can just call me Derrick, by the way."

I stand there helplessly, in utter disbelief of how tall this perthean is. I've never been this close to a perthean in my entire life! If he wanted to, it would be so easy to grab me and squeeze the life out of me!

When I don't respond, the boy lets out another nervous laugh. "Right. So, uh, balcony etiquette."

It takes everything within me to not stumble backwards yet again as he raises one of his enormous hands and settles it right in front of me. It's huge! His fingers are as big as fully grown humans!

"Hold onto my finger," he says, "then I'll lift you and place you in my other hand."

I stare wide-eyed at the massive finger in front of me, and glance at my own hands to compare. I've never given much thought to the littlest of wrinkles or crevices on my own hands, but the ones on his hands are so big! Can he see the details in my hands? Can he even see my hands at his scale?

Not wanting to be any closer to this perthean stranger, I look back at Ms. Clemmons, almost as if to ask if I really have to go through with this. She nods her head and gives an encouraging smile. I guess I'm on my own.

I return my attention to the perthean boy's finger, my heart pounding deep within my chest and my entire being trembling with fear. And somehow, despite everything inside of me screaming at me, telling me not to do it... I reach out and gently place my hand on his finger. I look up to see him smiling.

"That's it," he says. "Now hold on tight!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the boy begins to raise his hand off the balcony. Against my own instincts, I lunge forward and wrap myself tightly around his finger. Before I know it I'm dangling over that sixty foot drop, hearing nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat ringing in my ears.

As soon as I feel a soft, squishy surface below my feet, I become all too eager to let go of the boy's finger. I struggle to balance myself at first, but after a moment or two of flailing my arms, I feel comfortable standing. I just wish I were standing anywhere else but a perthean's palm.

"There you go," the boy says, moving the hand he placed me on closer to his chest.

The movement, being quick and unexpected, causes me to lose my balance. I fall flat on my bottom, and blood quickly rushes to my face as I scramble to recover.

"Oh! Sorry," the boy apologizes. "Are you okay?"

I nod my head yes, yet I feel everything except okay. I can't stand it here, I want to go home!

My trembling reaches an all time high as I sit helplessly in the palm of this perthean's hand. I try to keep it under control, to do all I can to stop it, but it continues. If my deskmate notices, what will he think of me then?

"Well? Are you all set?" Mrs. Hudson asks.

"I think so!" my deskmate says.

I look up as everyone's eyes turn to me. The room begins to spin, and my insides churn. Unable to speak, I give a quick nod.

"Great!" Mrs. Hudson says. "Go back to the auditorium and wait there. Orientation will begin shortly!"

With that, my deskmate nods his head and turns around. I sway in motion with his movement, and every step he takes shakes my entire body. I think I'm going to be sick.

I fold my shaking hands in my lap and stare down at them as my deskmate continues to the auditorium. I take in a deep breath and hold it for as long as I'm able. Hot tears wet my eyes and stream down my cheeks. It's at this moment I realize there's no turning back. I'm completely under this perthean's control.

[brostateexam]

Yesterday, the power was out at my house for about eight hours due to a substation catching on fire. The entire portion of Oakland I live in was without power, actually.

At first it didn't bother me. We were supposed to finish painting the bedroom that afternoon anyhow, and you don't need power to do that, so we did it. Then, it was supposed to be over, but they extended at the last minute by another six hours. In the interest of Shane being able to attend class and do homework, we headed out in search of somewhere that had electricity.

Driving on major roads while every traffic light was out was a bit tense. Not because I don't know what to do when that happens (traffic light out = four-way stop, duh), but because a four way stop is a bit inadequate for when a six lane road crosses a four lane road. Especially in a city where something like 1 in 20 drivers think that there are no laws other than "if I'm going get out of the way."

Anyway, we ended up in Alameda. All three Starbucks' we tried were closed because Alameda had lost power, too, but they got restored hours before East Oakland did. Whether that's because they are a much richer + much whiter area or because they have their own independent power authority who was able to restore partial power to the grid, I'm not sure, but either way, this is how we ended up hanging out in a partially powered shopping center for four hours or so.

I'd been meaning to go clothes shopping, so I stopped by Kohl's and had to restrain myself from buying every instance of this one grey herringbone pattern that they made into loungewear. It looks like mental illness personified. It looks like i'm ready for a long flight or a lobotomy or a spa day. This + some grippy socks serves 72 hour hold realness.

More stuff about bodies and weight and post-surgery stuff under the cut.

I think I'm now a 36 in actual sizes and a 34 in flattering vanity sizes like Kohl's in-house brand and presumably Old Navy. I'm going to try to go down one more size before I start thinking about building a permanent wardrobe. Ideally, I'd go down two more sizes, but I'm starting to get to the point where smaller stuff is not going to fit on my body because of my shoulders and thighs. I think even if I could lose sixty more pounds (which is btw what it would take for my BMI to not be "overweight"), I don't know that it would look right. Who knows if that's even possible, though, let alone if it will happen.

I know that if I want to look how I want to look, I need to get to a gym and start exercising properly. Walks ain't cutting it any more. So far, the stumbling block is I can't find a gym I like. I've toured a Planet Fitness and a 24 Hour Fitness, and both of them were terrible. Next to no weight machines, no squat racks, abysmal free weight section. Like, what the fuck is the point?

Sorry, that was a digression.

We left the overpriced but lovely Thai restaurant we had dinner at because I got a notification on my phone that our power was back on. We're on the same block as a fire station, so they prioritize restoring our access. I'd been worried about this when I bought this place, but with the double-paned windows you basically can't hear the sirens, and with the blinds down, you can barely see them, either. And we are never chosen for brown-outs during the summer cause the firestation needs to be powered. That's gonna be helpful when we have air conditioning, I think.

[reverend-dog]

Transporter Accident

Giffirn's hands flew over the console in a frenzy. "Stabilize, damn you!" she snarled, as she stabbed at the controls. For every energy flux she countered, two more flashed for attention. Outside, energy raged as the star Komat Ti shed its outer layer. "You weren't supposed to erupt for another three cycles," Giffirn roared at the uncaring star.

A column of sparkling light glittered on the transporter pad, but refused to coalesce. "Pattern destabilizing," the computer announced, its placid tone infuriating. "Chance of successful retrieval: sixty-seven point three-one-one percent."

"No!" Giffirn screeched defiance. "Access pattern archives! Use a saved pattern! Override authority tarok prime! Get her back!"

"Override authority acknowledged," the computer acquiesced. "Archives corrupted by exterior radiation. One intact pattern found."

Giffirn pounded a tattoo on the console. "Use it!" she raged. "Get her back!"

The column of light grew thicker, and a silhouette appeared within it. "Pattern stabilizing," the computer announced. "Transporter failure imminent."

"Whatever it takes!" Giffirn decreed, and keyed in another override. The console erupted in sparks as circuits blew, and she threw her hands up in front of her face as she staggered back. She heard a thud from the transporter pad, and rushed across the room. "Please, ancestors," she prayed, "let her make it."

"Transport successful," the computer declared. "Cutting power to transporter. Recommend immediate drydock for repairs."

"Set course," Giffirn ordered, and bent down over the prostrate form. Smoke from the erupting console stung her eyes, and she blinked to clear them. ""Vathi?"

The form groaned and shifted, and loosed a groan. "Giffirn?"

Immediately, Giffirn knew something was wrong. That wasn't Vathi's voice. Her vision cleared, and she stared. "Ancestors," she breathed.

"Giffirn, what's wrong? I feel so...." The figure sat up, hands lifted toward face. "Did we make it?"

Giffirn grabbed the hands, anxious to prevent the trauma of discovery. "We made it," she replied. "We're fine," she lied.

Vathi looked down, her attention drawn by Giffirn's grip. "What...." she stared at the pale, slender hands wrapped in Giffirn's properly meaty digits. "Those aren't my hands." The strength with which she tore free from Giffirn's grip showed some original aspects remained. She ran her hands over her face, exploring the high, angled cheekbones, the long, narrow nose, the delicate line of cheek and jaw. "My skin!" she cried, pressing against the smooth flesh hard enough to leave marks. "Giffirn, what happened to me?"

"I'm sorry," Giffirn offered, tears in her own eyes. "The storm was destablizing the transport beam, and radiation had got into both the base and ship archives. The computer could fine only one intact pattern." She swallowed, and her throat felt full of broken glass. "I had to do something! I couldn't lose you!"

Vathi struggled to her feet, heedless of the assistance Giffirn offered. She wobbled to the intercom console next to the door. "Computer," she said, "show me my face."

The intercom screen lit, and Vathi screeched at the features that stared back at her. "Ancestors!" she shrieked. "I'm -- I'm Terran!"

“It’s only temporary,” Giffirn promised. “There’s got to be a way to reverse it. As soon as we get home --”

Vathi spun from the screen to glare at Giffirn. “But what if we can’t?” she wailed. “I don’t want to be stuck like this! I’m Tellarite, damn it!” She turned back to the screen, caught by morbid fascination. “Look at me! You call this a nose? And this skin! Not a wrinkle in sight!” She slapped the screen to turn it off. “I can’t live like this!”

“Vathi,” Giffirn soothed, “if it can be done, it can be undone. All we need is to find a saved copy of your file in any of the transporters you’ve used recently.” She grabbed Vathi’s hands in her own, and found herself struck for a moment by the smoothness of the skin, the deceptive strength in those slender fingers. “We will get you back.” She lifted Vathi’s hands to her mouth and kissed them, and could not help but marvel at the velvet skin against her lips. “For now, though, we should both hit sickbay. It’ll be a miracle if we didn’t pick up some radiation. After all, a solar flare isn’t something you just walk away from.”

They both tossed their clothes into the disposal as they entered the compact medical bay. Any other time, articles would be caught and disassembled to the subatomic. Today, they simply flumped and draped over the disposal hopper. “Right,” Giffirn recalled, “no transporter. So no replicator, and no disposal.” She mused. “Could always space them.”

“Minor radiation exposure,” the computer diagnosed after it scanned them. “Recommend preventative oncologic vaccination and observation until incubation interval has expired.”

“Fine,” Vathi snapped. “Now, what do we do for clothes?” She planted her feet and jammed her hands against her hips. “We decided to travel light, so only replicated clothes. I’m supposed to just wander around like this?” She waved her arms to encompass her new form.

Giffirn started a reminder of how often they had gone nude between planetfalls in the past, but realized the full import of Vathi’s complaint. Meanwhile, she discovered a strange fascination in her partner’s transformed state. Terrans were hardly a novelty, even away from Federation space. Some ports, they seemed impossible to avoid. Giffirn found them no more repulsive than any other alien, but held no special love for them.

So why can’t I stop staring at Vathi?

With an effort, Giffirn managed a shrug that meant to be both offhanded and reassuring. “It’s just us here,” she reminded Vathi.

“But – how -- “ Vathi glared at Giffirn, and waved her hands over herself again. “How can you stand to look at me like this?” Her head cocked, and the long, wavy tresses of copper hue tumbled over one shoulder, in place of her previous crown of inky bristles. “You’re not… “ her voice cracked. “You’re not a xenophile, are you?”

“No!” Giffirn barked. “Ancestors, no!” But her denial felt false, against the allure of her partner’s slender, pert, ethereal appearance. She struggled for an explanation. “I know this isn’t your proper form,” she stumbled, and her hands wrung in the air as if in search of better wording. “And I know you were beautiful before.”

Impulse took over, and she crossed the medical bay in a stride. She grabbed Vathi by the shoulders and pulled her in. Smooth, delicate skin pressed against her own leathery hide, and the delight made her dizzy. “But this is you, and this is me. And if I’m wrong, and this is how it’s going to be…” She loosed her grip enough to cup Vathi’s chin in her hand, and locked her eyes on her partner’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vathi met Giffirn’s gaze. Her lips trembled. “You’ll keep me?” she pressed. “Even like this?”

Giffirn pressed her lips against Vathi’s. After a moment, Vathi joined in on the kiss. By the time they parted, both panted. “Until the last star burns out,” Giffirn vowed.

[soft-bellied-tannies]

Gaining Weight and Love, Pt. 2

Read here or on AO3! - ⚠️ Intentional Weight Loss, Sex Scene ⚠️

Usually, it's all soft and fluffy around here so I hope you enjoy it 🫣

Read part one here!

---

After a full discussion with all four members of the relationship, the idea for Jimin and Jungkook to lose weight and start again actually seemed pretty fun.

Both really did enjoy actively gaining and they thought that it may affect them mentally to force themselves to maintain for who knew how long or go above their decided limit where they were comfortable. 

They started to slow down as they both approached their limits.

Jimin added on those six pounds over the course of three weeks - feeling an intense feeling of accomplishment when the scale read 200 on the dot. He set a picture to their group chat, the soft plushness of his belly visible and the red numbers showing his goal had been reached. 

Jungkook needed another month for his last ten pounds, blushing shyly as he stood on the scale under Hoseok’s observation - the latter teasing him when the scale actually said 232.6, showing that he went ever so slightly over his goal.

All three of his boyfriends were happy to see Jungkook’s pleasant reaction to the number after Jimin shared his concern that their youngest boyfriend may feel negative about himself for breaking his self-imposed boundary. 

The younger two had shared their plan and goals to initiate round two of gaining. Yoongi and Hoseok were quite impressed by the amount of research done and the realistic expectations the pair had for themselves.

They were going to prioritize cardio and a specific food plan to ensure that they dropped their weight without building too much muscle, knowing that muscle was heavier than fat and could make it more difficult for them.

The long-term plan was set for one year, but they did show their boyfriends that it could be done safely in six months. 

Both Jimin and Jungkook had decided that getting down to their original starting weights was not ideal, especially considering the fact that both were fairly underweight due to their situation prior to meeting their once sugar daddies.

Jimin’s goal was fifty pounds, fine to hit sixty with his lowest number being 140 if he could manage it while Jungkook’s goal was seventy pounds, knowing that he lost weight easier than Jimin and 160 being the lowest he ever wanted to be again. 

Yoongi and Hoseok also learned very quickly that their boyfriends both had incredible self-control.

Jimin had taken up cycling and running as his method of exercise while Jungkook preferred swimming and a casual boxing class. They had calculated the right calorie deficit for each of them and stuck closely to their plan. 

It was sad at first to see them slim down, missing the plumpness of Jungkook’s stomach and Jimin’s wide hips that were the first to reduce in size.

The midway point introduced new interests though as they discovered that Jimin’s stomach was the last place to lose weight, having his same belly from 200 pounds when he was at 175 which made it more prominent with less weight visible below his waist. 

All three could not keep their hands off his midsection whenever they had the chance, Jimin got used to the feeling of at least one person holding him at all times. He certainly enjoyed it for himself and took the opportunity to tease his boyfriends by digging out his old shirts that emphasized his roundness while it was still there. 

Jungkook seemed to drop weight so quickly that Yoongi and Hoseok worried at first, but his trainer ensured that he was doing everything in a healthy way and sometimes genetics just give people a better chance at losing their extra pounds.

His stomach seemed to like it was becoming smaller every day, but they did get to enjoy his meaty thighs and adorable cheeks for quite some time. 

By the seventh month mark, Jungkook had reached his goal with ease - looking trim and toned at exactly 160, not a pound less. He was excited to start gaining again, but he also was adamant to wait for Jimin who was still working on his last ten pounds.

Yoongi felt like he wanted to stop Jimin multiple times, an odd sensation that their boyfriend was getting too small, but Hoseok talked him through it. 

Six weeks later, Jungkook had maintained his stay at 160 while Jimin ended up dropping another fifteen pounds to put him at a slim 145.

A conversation came up one night between the younger two who took an account of their feelings on yet another significant size change.

In a matter of two years, both had gone up more than sixty pounds and then worked it back off so it would be understandable if they wanted to stay where they were after their hard work. 

It didn’t talk long for them to make it clear to their boyfriends and each other that they very much missed gaining.

The pride in their weight loss had come from a place of getting to actively put on weight and get pampered in that way by their boyfriends again rather than being a smaller size.

In addition to the excitement to start again, all four were thinking about how fun it would be this time without the awkward starting period and the already-developed stomach capacity. 

Somehow, the entire experience lined up perfectly with their one-year anniversary of dating as a foursome.

That was the perfect occasion to start again - giving Yoongi and Hoseok two weeks to prepare. Jimin and Jungkook both maintained their new weights until their anniversary dinner, wanting to initiate the second round of gaining with the stuffing their boyfriends were most certainly planning. 

Yoongi and Hoseok had prepared an impressive spread for their dinner.

Spicy tteokbokki, pork tonkatsu, kimchi, rice, and mochi for Jimin’s menu while Jungkook was served samgyeopsal with all the accompanying banchan, ramen, kimchi mandu, and hotteok.

The food was set on serving plates across their large coffee table in the living room to allow Jimin and Jungkook to get comfortable on the couch for their big dinner. 

“Wow, hyungs, this looks amazing,” Jungkook said as he entered the room, eyes widening at the amount of food. The sight alone made him feel a shot of heat through his belly, thinking about how fun it was going to be to let go and see the scale go back up. 

Jimin simply walked across the room to give both their hyungs an appreciative kiss before taking his spot on the couch, ready to feel the warm tautness of his full belly once again.

He wore leggings instead of sweats and one of his tightest t-shirts, another one of his teasing efforts knowing that all four of them were going to love the sight of his belly fighting against his form-fitting clothes. 

Jungkook plopped down on the couch next to Jimin, leaning over for a kiss of his own. He then rubbed his hands together and said, “Let’s eat well, Min-ah.” 

Their hyungs smiled and started dishing out the food, deciding that the younger two could start by feeding themselves while their hyungs had much smaller servings of their own dinner.

Hoseok handed Jimin one of the mochis as a sweet starter while he dished the tteokbokki into a bowl for him as Jungkook immediately started building his first wrap, Yoongi dropping extra pieces onto his perilla leaf as he picked out his toppings. 

Jimin moaned at his first bite of tteokbokki, already anticipating what the spice would do to his empty stomach. He ate the first bowl with haste, getting to the bottom in just minutes and feeling pleased that there was still significant room in his stomach for more.

Yoongi sent him a gummy smile as he refilled the bowl, having a silent moment while Hoseok was openly praising Jungkook’s equally enthusiastic efforts. 

Jungkook built a wrap that was a better fit for Jimin’s taste and held it up to his mouth, following it with his lips after Jimin accepted it.

They got caught up in each other for a moment before their hyungs directed them to keep eating with the excuse of not wanting their food to get cold, a tried and true method of their stuffing encouragement. 

The spice was already giving Jimin a nice bloat, resting his hand on his stomach for a moment allowed him to relish in the return of his favorite sensation. Hoseok took his pause as already needed a break. 

“Minnie, are you already feeling full? You don’t need to push yourself if it hurts, baby - it has been a while since we’ve done this so it’s okay if you need to stop,” Hoseok said, taking Jimin’s hand into his own and grabbing the attention of their boyfriends.

Jimin blushed under the sudden attention and felt love overflowing for his attentive partners. He shook his head with a smile.

“I’m good, really - I just needed a moment to take in the feeling. I didn’t realize how much I missed this.” 

Yoongi couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss him while both Jungkook and Hoseok cooed at his wholesome answer considering what was going on. “We missed it too, love.”

After the heartfelt moment passed, Jimin jumped back into his meal with gusto - trying his best to match Jungkook’s always impressive pace.

He alternated the tonkatsu and tteokbokki as they were both rich in different ways while Jungkook was going to work on the samgyeopsal until it was gone. 

Jungkook gladly accepted bites of ramen or mandu from Yoongi’s chopsticks while he built his next wrap, never slowing down once. That familiar crest of his filling stomach started to return and he already started thinking about the next time they would get to do this. 

Looking over at Jimin, Jungkook smiled when he saw Hoseok already taking over bringing the food to his boyfriend’s lips.

They all knew that Jimin loved being spoiled, always willing to eat more if it came from someone else’s hand. Jungkook managed to finish the samgyeopsal right as Jimin was taking the final bites of his tteokbokki. 

Jungkook immediately jumped into his ramen, finally letting Yoongi take the reigns as he maintained the same speed that the younger liked while he ate - his philosophy being the faster he went, the more he got down.

Jimin, on the other hand, liked to relax back into the couch in between dishes and let Hosoek push and prod on his belly while he digested a little bit. 

Hoseok slipped his hands beneath Jimin’s tightening shirt, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his pants and tucking it down below the younger’s stomach.

His slim tummy hardly counted as belly just yet, but his bloated stomach was slightly pushed out by the pinch of his leggings - a welcome sight returning. 

“What would you like next, Min-ah?” Hoseok asked as Yoongi and Jungkook were wrapped up in their own little world. 

“Anything is fine, just want more,” Jimin answered honestly, sounding breathless not from the food but his arousal. 

Hoseok smiled at the answer, tossing a few of the dumplings into the bowl of rice and kimchi before bringing them closer.

He held up one of the mandu first, offering the decently-sized dumpling and expecting Jimin to bite off some only to be surprised by the younger taking the entire thing into his mouth - puffing out his cute cheeks to accommodate it. 

“Hmm, someone’s being a good boy tonight,” Hoseok whispered as he rubbed Jimin’s stomach and watched him chew through his giant bite. 

Jimin nodded, as he finally got the dumpling down followed by a few panting breaths.

“Always good, hyung.”

“Yes, you are, baby. My perfect Minnie,” Hoseok continued, enjoying the mood Jimin was setting that seemed to match whatever energy Yoongi and Jungkook had going between them.

Jungkook was working through the ramen with a bright blush on his cheeks from whatever Yoongi was saying to him. 

“Another one, please,” Jimin requested, always well-mannered no matter how far they went.

Hoseok smiled and kissed his cheek before offering another dumpling, impressed to see Jimin take the entire thing yet again. 

Hoseok smirked when he noticed Yoongi watching them, equally impressed with Jimin’s big bites. “Someone is really enjoying your mandu, hyung.” 

Yoongi smiled and sent Jimin a little flying kiss who responded with a little embarrassed whine, his typical response at being called out for his hefty bites.

Jungkook took in what Jimin was doing and decided to join him, asking for a dumpling himself and downing the whole thing. 

Their hyungs loved it when a co-stuffing devolved into a bite-for-bite competition between the two because Jungkook felt the desire to win so he pushed on while Jimin just wanted to see his boyfriend eat more than him, going as far as his stomach would allow knowing that Jungkook would go farther. 

They finished the dumplings in record time, leading to Jimin wanting another break to sip on his Chilsung while Jungkook moved on to the last bit of his ramen.

Hoseok got the sense that Jimin was reaching his limit for the evening, already impressed by how far both were going in their first stuffing in over seven months. 

Pulling the dessert tray closer, Hoseok held up one of the mochis to see how Jimin responded. There were only five of them, the sixth being Jimin’s appetizer to his dinner, but they were decently sized with a whole strawberry inside so he would see how many they went through. 

Jimin said nothing, simply opened his mouth for one as he saw that Jungkook still had room to go and he hated stopping too far ahead of the younger in case it made him stop before he reached his actual limit. 

Hosoek brought the mochi to his lips, shocked again as Jimin simply took the entire thing rather than biting some off. The mochi was slightly bigger than the dumplings had been so Jimin’s cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, looking absolutely adorable. 

“You are so fucking cute, Minnie. I love your cheeks,” Hoseok praised, happy to see the little upturn of Jimin’s lips in response only making him that much cuter. 

Yoongi noticed that Jimin had shifted to dessert so he made the same offer to Jungkook.

“Ready for something sweet, baby? There is hotteok for you.” 

Jungkook nodded eagerly, knowing the shift to sugar would give him a bit more room as he was feeling very full - not uncomfortable yet but getting close. He looked over at Jimin for a moment, endeared by the same sight as Hoseok.

Their boyfriend really did have the cutest cheeks. 

The hotteok was at his lips before Jungkook even realized that Yoongi had grabbed it, instinctively opening his mouth to eat it.

The next few minutes went by quietly aside from Jungkook’s little grunts and groans at how good his dessert was and Jimin’s panting breaths each time he got one of the mochis down. 

While Jungkook was still working on his last few hotteok, he and Yoongi watched Hoseok start to tenderly caress Jimin’s taut stomach.

Certainly hitting his limit, Jimin felt all the food inside of him with every breath. He had to breathe through a few cramps when Hoseok pressed into his skin, not receiving much give.

His moans got louder as his hyung’s hand started to sneak down below his waistband. 

“Our pretty Min-ah, stuffed to the brim. I think someone deserves a reward for eating so well, right?” Hoseok prompted, almost teasing with his tone as his hand snuck into Jimin’s boxers and his lips latching onto the younger’s neck. 

“P-Please, hyung…” Jimin stuttered out, his breath catching when he felt Hoseok’s hand wrap around his cock.

It sent a hot sensation through his abdomen, chills raising on his skin as his boyfriend started to slowly move his hand along Jimin’s hard shaft. 

Hoseok looked over at Yoongi who was getting Jungkook into a similar situation, taking a moment to consider if they should move it to the bedroom.

They at least were going to need lube if they stayed in the living room so they may as well go get spread out in bed. He would also be lying to himself if he said the motive behind wanting to move was comforting because all three of his boyfriends knew that Hoseok loved watching the younger two waddle around after a good stuffing. 

Making the decision for them all, Hoseok stood and extended his hands to Jimin who wanted to hesitate but was also desperate to get fucked by at least one of his boyfriends.

With a gentle pull, Hosoek lifted Jimin from the couch who immediately cradled his bloated stomach which jutted out a few inches from his frame as if the muscle memory was still there from when he was fifty pounds heavier. 

Now that he was up on his feet, Jimin was feeling more determined to get to his end goal. He wrapped his arms around Hoseok’s neck, deliberately pressing his bloated belly into his hyung’s slim abdomen.

“Hyung, wanna ride Ggukie…missed our bellies getting in the way when we get on top of each other. Want him deep inside by full tummy.” 

“ Shit ,” Yoongi and Hoseok mumbled in tandem, loving when Jimin’s mouth got filthy. 

“Please, hyungs, want that too. Need to feel all of you,” Jungkook groaned, hands on his own stomach before heaving himself off the couch and watching Hoseok encourage Jimin to head down the hall with a keyed-up Yoongi who had already smacked the younger’s perky ass twice. 

Jungkook was turned around by Hoseok, his hyung’s determined hands wrapping around his sides to land on his stuffed belly. He could have melted into a puddle when his boyfriend started to whisper into his ear, tone husky and deep with arousal. 

“Look out our Minnie, baby. Doesn’t he look good with his firm tummy? See his cute waddle from being so stuffed up, think about how heavy he is going to feel on top of you in a little bit.” 

Jungkook let out a guttural moan as he leaned his head back onto Hoseok’s shoulder. His hyung always knew exactly how to rile him up, mostly because he and Hoseok both were turned on by the same things about Jimin so hearing it worded so perfectly went straight to his groin. 

“Come on, Ggukie. We can’t keep them waiting. Yoongi-hyung may start without us.” 

That was enough to have Jungkook ambling down the hallway as best as he could with Hoseok wrapped about his back.

They entered their bedroom to find Jimin already laid up in the middle, still fully clothed but shirt rucked up under his arms while Yoongi worshiped his bloated middle with open-mouthed kisses. 

Jimin let out an almost melodic gasp when Yoongi’s teeth grazed his nipple, his chest always having been sensitive.

Hoseok led Jungkook to the bed and stripped him of his shirt to admire his firm middle, stuffed even more than Jimin. He encouraged the younger to climb up next to Jimin, allowing Yoongi to give him the same treatment. 

Hoseok then returned to Jimin’s side, finally getting to remove his leggings and grabbing a bottle of lube from their nightstand.

His fingers went straight to work, wanting to get Jimin stretched and on top of Jungkook as soon as possible. Jimin moaned loudly as Hoseok’s first finger entered him without warning. 

“Ah…ah, hyung, feels so good, want more,” Jimin rambled mindlessly, somewhat lost in his lust already. 

“I know, love, I’m going as fast as I can,” Hoseok replied, leaning over to kiss Jimin on the lips. The movement forced Jimin to bend one leg up to allow the older access, his thigh meeting his belly with a soft thump. 

Yoongi was continuing his mission to leave no part of Jungkook’s midsection untouched, taking a small amount of lube to prep his cock for Jimin without getting him off.

Jungkook had a constant string of moans falling from his lips as Yoongi kissed and licked and nipped at his belly. 

“So nice and round, Ggukie. Can’t wait to see you get bigger all over again. So proud of you and Minnie for being so good for your hyungs,” Yoongi said in between kisses, knowing the praise would further deepen the youngest’s arousal. 

Hoseok had Jimin near tears by the time his third finger was inside, continuing his passionate effort to open him up as quickly as possible.

Any other night, Hoseok would be the one to draw it out and tease all three of them, but the emotions were already too high and everyone needed a release as soon as possible. 

“Ready, I’m ready, please. Need Gguk inside me now,” Jimin demanded, not wanting to release from Hoseok’s fingers alone. 

“Okay, baby, go ahead. Take what you need,” Yoongi instructed, pushing Jungkook back against the pillows and moving his mouth from his stomach up to his boyfriend’s neck and jaw. 

Hoseok gave Jimin his hand to help the younger sit up, pulling him over to straddle Jungkook and helping guide him down onto the younger’s cock.

Jimin threw his head back with a loud moan as bottomed out, hands blindly reaching forward to land on Jungkook’s stomach. 

“Oh, fuck, Min, feels so good,” Jungkook mumbled, referring to the feeling of Jimin’s tight entrance as well as the pressure on his midsection from his boyfriend’s small but strong hands. 

Yoongi was leaving deep marks along Jungkook’s collarbone while one of his hands was wrapped around his own shaft, slowly tugging towards a release at the various sounds from his boyfriends.

Hoseok placed himself behind Jimin, his fingers teasing the younger’s nipples, knowing fully well that he was quickly bringing his boyfriend into a state of overstimulation - not feeling a tiny bit guilty considering how much Jimin loved it. 

“Gonna move, Ggukie, need to move,” Jimin warned as he went up on his knees slowly, followed by a quick move back down to fully bottom out once again. He repeated the motion a few more times while he and Jungkook both filled the room with their loud moans and cries of pleasure. 

Jimin started to feel the burn in his thighs, but he was not about to slow down, only increasing his pace.

Between Hoseok’s hands on his chest and the sound of the bottom of his bloated stomach meeting Jungkook’s own taut middle, he was reaching his own release faster than he expected. 

Jungkook was completely overwhelmed and ready to let go when he heard Jimin say he was almost there. He had instinctively started to arch his back at the sensation of his boyfriend bouncing on his cock, pushing his stuffed belly up into the air and bringing a cramp to his side.

The little pinch of pain from overeating and the pressure of his boyfriend’s hands at the same time was enough to send him over. He felt the hot release shoot into Jimin, filling him up even though it wouldn’t make a difference in his already bloated stomach. 

Hoseok’s hand was back on Jimin’s cock, bringing him to his release at nearly the same time as Jungkook - white streaks spreading across the youngest’s belly.

Jimin’s chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, legs feeling like jelly as he immediately fell forward onto his boyfriend below him.

His sticky cum was now evenly painted on both their stomachs as they let out matching groans at the added pressure. 

Jungkook’s hands instinctively wrapped around Jimin as shared a relatively soft kiss considering what they just finished doing.

Their hyungs were happy to let them have their own relaxing moment to come down from their euphoric haze while they found their own pleasure.

Neither was far off after watching their beautiful babies enjoy each other so well only after enjoying their dinner even better. 

Jimin was startled as he was pulled off of Jungkook’s chest, not even realizing that he had dozed off. Yoongi was now cleaning him up with a warm cloth while Hoseok did the same for Jungkook.

His hyung followed each swipe with gentle words or even gentler kisses, aware of Jimin’s sensitive headspace after an intense session. 

“Love you, Yoonie,” Jimin mumbled, barely awake through the unwanted movement.

“I love you too, baby,” Yoongi replied, kissing Jimin on the forehead and encouraging him to roll on his side, knowing it would be more comfortable. 

Jungkook quickly found Jimin’s back, wrapping himself as closely as he could without adding pressure to his still-tender stomach. He pressed a few kisses to the nape of Jimin’s neck, not receiving a response as the other had already drifted off to sleep.

Hoseok returned quickly from shutting down the rest of the house while Yoongi cleaned up the bedroom. 

More 'I love you's were shared between the three that were still awake, feeling the arousal and lust start to bleed into a warm sense of love for each other. 

Feeling their hyungs get into bed with them - Hoseok wrapping himself around Jungkook’s back while Yoongi cuddled up to the front of Jimin - Jungkook finally let himself fall asleep.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchanged a happy look before falling into their own slumber, excited to know that they could look forward to fattening up their babies for the second time. 

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Mario Kart - Katsuki Bakugo X Female Reader

Title: Mario Kart

Katsuki Bakugo X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Mina (Mentioned), Sato (Mentioned), Izuku (Mentioned), and Momo (Mentioned)

WC: 1,400

Warnings: Slight suggestiveness and Katsuki got dem feelings and hates it.

It was stupid. Bakugou knew that for sure. He couldn't be in love with you. That was not the feeling that he felt. Nope. Not admitting it. But, oh god. He's never felt this way for anyone before. Bakugou wasn't even sure when it started. Maybe during the tournament? Or maybe before? You were just so amazing and strong. And then you helped with saving him from the League of Villains.

Bakugou had been running from his feelings since you both first met. That's for sure. When you offered to train with him, he thought it would be best if you both worked together. You could both improve a lot more easily if you did. Of course, he wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't want to ruin things between the two of you.

Even his "friends" had realized that something wasn't right. They, mostly Mina, had noticed how different Bakugou acted around and towards you, especially how he'd talked about you.

Mina still didn't know everything, but she knew enough. The fact that he didn't lose control in front of you meant that he probably liked you, at least a little bit. She hoped it wouldn't take long for him to realize how much he really cared for you. Then, hopefully, he'll end up confessing to you.

She couldn't have done anything without her friends though. So, it was their job to try and get Bakugou to confess.

~~~

He loved you. He absolutely loved you. That's what he told himself as he walked down the streets of U.A. High. At least, that's what he tried telling himself. It wasn't working. Half his mind was saying it was just a dumb crush, while the other half was saying it was love. Love. What he felt for you. How you made him feel. Everything. All of it.

He was going to tell you too. He decided that after everything he had seen and heard, he owed you the truth. It wasn't fair for him to keep all these thoughts bottled up inside. Now that he knew everything, there was no point keeping them a secret anymore.

As he walked back into the dorms, he froze when he say you. You were talking to Mina and Momo, smiling and laughing. You were so pretty. Nope. Nope. Nope. He couldn't do it. Glaring, he scoffed, scolding himself. He felt weak. You made him feel weak. He hated feeling weak.

He turned around, walking away. He needed some time alone, to think. His heart was pounding.

~~~

A few days later, you sat in the main room, on a beanbag, reading. Your friend, Izuku, was in the corner, playing on his phone. Sato was in the kitchen, cooking something. You weren't really paying attention to either of them. You were thinking about something else. Or... Someone.

You were in love with Bakugou. It was true. You knew it. No matter how hard you tried to deny your feelings, they still remained. You loved Bakugou so much. You wanted to snuggle up next to him, cook next to him, go out together, spend every single day by his side. You'd do anything for him.

And you were scared. Scared that you'll lose him if you told him. He was your friend. As good as a boyfriend could be, you couldn't risk losing him. You'd rather stay friends than risk losing him by confessing your feelings. You can't possibly imagine life without Bakugou around.

As you read the final page of your book, you sighed happily. It was a good ending.

~~~

Bakugou was sitting at his desk, resting his hand on his cheek as he stared at you, sitting diagonally from him. You were looking up at the board, occasionally looking down and writing in your notebook. Bakugou sighed, rolling his eyes.

You looked up, looking behind you, smiling shyly. "Hey."

He smiled back, waving his hand lightly. "Hi."

"How are you?"

"Fine," he said, shrugging.

"Miss L/N, what's the answer to question three?" Ectoplasm, asked and you blushed, embarrassed.

"Sixty-four."

He nodded. "Good."

You turned back around to Bakugou, "What're you doing today?" You asked, whispering.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "I don't have any homework or anything like that."

Smiling, causing Bakugou's heart to skip a beat, you nodded. "Same, wanna hang out after?"

He smiled shyly, nodding. "Sure. I'll text you later then."

"Okay," you replied, returning to your work.

~~~

"Awe! Come on, I was so close!" You whined as Bakugou's car passed yours; straight through the finishing line.

He rolled his eyes, smirking, "You suck at this."

You huffed, pouting, "Don't say stuff like that."

"Well, you suck at this," He retorted, pressing 'next round' on the screen.

"Again? Just so you can beat me again? Why can't we just play something else?" You asked as you looked back to the screen.

"Because you're too damn competitive," He said, smirking. "Besides, you need practice."

You smirked, pushing his shoulder, "I'm the competitive one?"

"Yup," he chuckled, clicking the button.

"All right, I'm sorry. It's just..." You trailed off, sighing. "I hate losing."

He smirked, "No surprise there." He spoke as he slid into first place.

"Argh!" You stomped on your foot on the floor. "Why do you always have to win?"

"Seems like your more hotheaded than I am..." Bakugou teased.

You frowned, "Yeah well, I'm not an idiot. I know you're better at this game."

"Of course I'm better than you," he said smugly.

You laughed, "Of course you are." You shook your head, "I still can beat you when we spar though."

Bakugou shrugged, "Yeah, but only like thirty percent of the time."

"Well, I can't let you have all the fun," you said sarcastically.

"Oh please," he scoffed.

"If you always lose at this game, why did you suggest it?" He asked and you shrugged, feeling bashful.

"I dunno," you said, looking away. "Maybe because I got bored?"

Bakugou lowered his eyebrows, admiring your side-profile as he observed you. "No, you would've made me play Minecraft or some crap."

"I would have but then you would whine the entire time cause I beat you at PvP." You said, grinning.

"So, why did you choose Mario Kart?" He asked, and you sighed.

"I dunno... I knew it's your favorite." You shrugged.

"Hm, you make note of my favorite games?" He smirked. "Is that a sign of how much you like me?"

You giggled, "Please, how could I not like you?"

Your eyes widened, and Bakugou's did too.

You were not supposed to say that.

"Umm... I mean..." You laughed nervously, "I've liked you for a really long time."

You took the words right out of his mouth.

He was glad you confessed.

You really took one for the team.

"Really?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow.

You nodded, "Yes, really." You said, still smiling.

"That's... Good," he said, smiling shyly. "I... I like you a lot too."

"Really?" You questioned, your eyes widening.

"Mhm," he grinned, leaning over.

At first, he was hesitant, unsure of how you'd react. But, when he saw your smile and your short nod, he finally kissed you. You kissed back, holding into his hair, your hands moved down to his neck, grabbing his shirt tightly as he held onto your cheeks. Though Bakugou had a hard outer shell, his lips were so soft.

He pulled back from the kiss, looking into your eyes, smiling warmly. You returned his smile, hugging him tight, squeezing him in an attempt to keep him close.

"I love you, Katsuki," you whispered softly, nuzzling into his neck.

Bakugou felt himself blush, the way you said his name made his stomach fill with butterflies. "I love you too, Y/N."

You smiled, kissing him once more. This time, just a peck.

"What should we do now?" You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I'm not sure," he said, holding you close. "We could play Mario Kart again... Who knows, maybe I'll let you win."

You laughed, "Orrrr, we could watch a movie."

He smiled, "Yeah, sounds good."

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Do you want to go to my room?"

"What's wrong with my tv?" You teased, with a laugh.

He smirked, "Nothing, just your neighbors next door are loud, and mine aren't."

You nodded, "Fair enough." Remembering Mina's karaoke nights in her room next door.

"Okay, but I need to be back before lights out."

You followed behind him, keeping your hand on his waist as you walked up the stairs.

[aberrant-webnovel]

Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant

Content Warning: Violent reference

Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant

There's a massive building ahead of me. Made of dark steel and copper piping along the exterior. There were rivets lining every panel of the building and lights intermittently placed to illuminate the front of the building.

Above the main entrance rested a symbol, rather than any words. A red skull decal with red rifles crossing behind it like an 'X'. Rather ominous in general, but in this city the sight of this simple symbol held hope for us.

The Vault Breakers were heroes of the Igneol Domain. For over 1,000 years, they have served Domain to better life for people all over the Calabasas Continent. Here in the Igneol Domain, people rely on technological marvels from long ago that can help people better survive in these conditions. The people who go and hunt down these pieces of tech are the Vault Breakers.

Nobody knows what's inside these Vaults until they're cracked and explored, but the reward will make someone rich enough to survive years in leisure. But the rush of hunting this tech and bringing home a payday keeps Breakers going out and fighting for their fortune.

I, Ymir Gajjet Sorenson, will become a Vault Breaker today and fight for the improvement of life for all of us. And more than that, enough money to move me and my family to the Luxor Domain. I've heard so much about the tech they've implemented there. So much stuff that just makes life easy and wonderful for all who can make it there. THAT is my goal. To let mom live happy, healthy, and and safe. More so than in this blazing hot desert.

With each step towards the massive doors ahead of me, I feel my knees buckle. My body sinks and I feel faint. These doors must be sixty feet tall. Must be like a bajillion pounds. I could never move something like that. Oh geez! Why didn't mom tell me anything about this? Why didn't Auntie or Uncle tell me!? How do I get in?

I take a few moments to collect myself. I stare at the doors. I'm about a hundred feet away, but they're immeasurably daunting. I could swear that they grow every time I lose hope in my heart.

Just then, they creep open. Slowly. The sound of metal scraping rings out and I can hear it reverberating in my ears. What amazing power is forcing these massive metal walls to move!? What sorcery!? How can I gain such power!?

I looked near the base of the door. There is a small girl. Maybe a younger teen. I can't quite tell from this far, but she's got some very pretty blue hair. Blue hair that looks just like….

"Silva! What the hell!?"

I couldn't stop myself from shouting and drawing as much attention as I could. It was totally involuntary. I swear. The blue haired youth turned around to looked at me. She scowled.

Silva is a young woman who is actually a little older than I. Only by two years, though. She's my cousin. Like a lot of our family, we all had dreams of being Vault Breaker. This year, I was to apply to join the ranks. My older cousin was also thinking that she'd enlist one day. She wasn't ever particularly interested in the dangerous tasks involved, but rather wanted to join the R&D Corp. She took after her father, who was currently the head of Research & Development for the Vault Breakers.

"You didn't know that I'd be applying with you? I was sure I hinted at it last time I visited."

"Hell no! I was told by Uncle Varun that you weren't going to apply for another few quarters! Auntie Fran said you were thinking about going to school somewhere instead, though."

"Mom always says things like that. She doesn't want me playing with weapons all the time so she tells everyone I'm leaving to go to school. I actually snuck out today to take the tests for the R&D corp. Do me a favor and don't tell mom, kay? Or Auntie Harper. Telling dad is fine, though. He can keep a secret."

"Yeah, I guess Uncle is pretty cool. Plus, won't he be giving you the exam? I don't have to tell him. He's going to see you."

"No, dad's going to be busy today. Some of the others from his department are here to handle the testing. Apparently some team brought in a piece of tech he'd never seen before. Once he sees something crazy, he can't do anything but study it for about a week. I expect I'll get the results back before I even see him leave his lab."

"Geez, Uncle really is a geek, ain't he? Haha!"

It's nice to talk with Silva. She's a bit older than me, but she's never looked down on me for any reason. I was never strong enough or fast enough to compare with the Sorenson family. At my age of 19, I would have already been serving as a Vault Breaker for three years. It's been a tradition for a long time in my father's family to join at 16. I could never keep up. My mother never pressured me to join.

Today is my day, though. Dad, I know you're not with us anymore, but I'm ready to make you proud. It's time that your son Ymir becomes a Vault Breaker!

Together with Silva, we entered through the massive steel doors. They had swung open because Silva presented an authorization keycard to the terminal just outside the doors. I didn't have one with clearance to enter here, but she let me know that her dad slipped her one a while back so that she could visit whenever she wanted. Even though she had such a thing, this was the first time she used it. Typically, I would be entering with a sponsor and directed to the testing areas.

I stepped through the intimidating arch and then stared out to all extraordinary things before me. Lining the walls of the hall were twenty foot statues of the greatest Vault Breakers in the history of the group. Every single one of them is a hero in their own right. All of them achieved enough during their service to earn a place in this hall as one of the six greatest to have ever been called a Vault Breaker.

I walked through the hall and admired each with every step I took. First, to my left, I saw a statue of the founder of the Vault Breakers. Just over 1200 years ago, was when this man, Maximillian "Vault Breaker" Atom, smashed through a blast door with a crazy tech hammer that he looted. Inside the vault, he found a power source called the Igneol Core. This core was able to power a complex series of machinery based on magma flow within a Vault.

This piece of tech became what founded the city that would later be called the Igneol Domain. With this act, Maximillian went forth to found a group dedicated to enriching the lives of humans all around the world with lost technology found deep underground in these mysterious Vaults. Henceforth, his group were called the Vault Breakers and continued to operate out of the center of the Igneol Domain.

Maximillian might have been the first of the great heroes of this place, but across the hall was a statue depicting one of the later leaders of the Vault Breakers. Her achievements, however, came quite a bit before she took over the mantle of leader.

Rochelle Rutherford. She was a powerful fighter. This great woman walked with a force that could shake the crust of the earth and strike terror into the heartiest of Vault veterans. All on her own, she breached a vault, slaughtered a thousand aberrations, and laid claim to valuable technology that led to crucial discoveries in the domain's hydroponics systems. Thanks to this discovery, the lives of everyone in the domain, and later the whole continent, would be enriched by this amazing discovery.

The 6th Chief of the Vault Breakers, Rochelle, was a no-nonsense woman who led with an iron fist. She trained the members and taught them everything needed to do the job. Her teachings would later become adapted and create a system detailing the roles that each Vault Breaker must play.

The Breaker, or Breacher, was a heavy-duty operator. Rather than relying on weapons and offensive gear, they would infiltrate with equipment capable of cutting through defenses that locked Vaults away from them. Once the breach is complete, then they would send in the next roles. Once all members of a team had entered, the Breaker team would seal the Vault and prevent escaping aberrations.

Scouts were trained with the intention of mapping out all dangers and pathways in unknown territory, but only to an extent that danger could be avoided.. Even outside of a breach event, Scouts often did work to find new entries for Vaults. Once inside, a Scout's specialty was not being seen, moving through the territory, and acquiring information to relay back to the rest of the team. Once enough info was acquired, they would return and report. From there, it was up to any Runners in the squad.

Having specialized jobs like Breakers and Scouts was helpful for the Runners. Unlike Breakers and Scouts, every Runner had to learn everything about Vaults. The enemies that were inside had different weak points. The pathways had tendencies in their blueprints that Runners could read and follow. While a Scout could give an initial impression of what's to come, the Runner would know the path that led to the end. Therefore, Runners were the front of the pack.

Runners carried the best weapons, the strongest defenses, and the best tech for surveillance. Gear was usually bulky and required extensive training just to move around with it, as well as augmentations to one's anatomy. This was more than just a fighter role. It was a leader and powerhouse role. Most of the pressure was on the Runners to ensure the safety of all others once they were inside the Vaults.

Rochelle Rutherford was regarded as the greatest Vault Breaker in history because she was able to perform all three roles and to such a degree that she rarely went into Vaults with a group. The last time she did, she died. She fought as hard as she could to protect the lives of those she brought along. Rochelle will always be in the hearts of those who survive. A common ritual is to ask for her protection before leaving for a deployment.

The third hero in this hall is a bit of an obscure one. Ornn Sorenson. He's my ancestor. I forget how many generations back he is, but he lived hundreds of years before I did. His achievements were much less based on merit and skill as a Vault Breaker. He earned his place in this hall from the value of his finds.

Ornn had a nose for treasure and sniffed out the Vaults with some of the best tech that anyone had ever seen. New weapons were able to be created after he brought back ancient military tech one time. Another time, he looted a power cell that redefined how we store energy. Our lives became so much more efficient once we replicated it. His place here is proof off his commitment to enriching the lives of everyone with his efforts.

One day, I want to bring back some awesome score and show it off to everyone. I can just imagine Uncle Varun lighting up at a chance to play with new tech while Auntie Harper lectures me about doing dangerous things.

On my right side now is the fourth statue of a hero. Lars "S-Ranker" Sorenson. Another one of my ancestors. His life was closer to mine, but I still never got to meet him. I hear that he trained my grandfather directly, but I never got a chance to meet any of the men in my family.

Lars, though, had a reputation in our family. A reputation as the strongest and most diligent Vault Breaker that has ever been born in our family. He rose to the top of the ladder within a few years of joining the service. He defeated hordes of aberrations and cleared one Vault after another. He led a team of elites through each one, never taking a casualty.

After countless deployments, Lars retired from action and put his knowledge to use. He created two class systems revolving around the Vaults and the Vault Breakers. The systems are easy to understand and put emphasis on protecting the lives of everyone going inside the Vaults.

Each Vault is listed in one of five classes. Class 1 is the easiest Vault to clear. That makes Class 5 a Hell hole. The class for each Vault is decided off of multiple factors. The biggest one being the presence of aberrations. Not every Vault has those creatures inside of them. The ones with absolutely no aberration presence recorded are in that Class 1. Class 2 doesn't always have them, but the presence of a few will land them here.

Class 3 Vaults are something else entirely, though. Most Vault Breakers don't have the opportunity to ever get inside one of these. Just clearing enough lower classes is enough to make someone quit or they end up dead off of a rookie mistake. Inside a Class 3 Vault is a swarm of aberrations. The type of creature is typically something manageable by a solid team, though. Most weapons are effective against them and the more elite Vault Breakers are tough enough to outlast the waves.

Things get hectic in the next class. Class 4 Vaults are notable as they show signs of evolved creatures within them. Sometimes the aberrations swear fealty to one high-powered creature or they operate like a hive mind. The intelligence of them increases dramatically at this point and only the most elite Vault Breakers are allowed to enter such a place.

Class 5 Vaults are something that Lars insisted was an arbitrary ranking. Something that is listed at this rank has never been truly found. It represents the possibility of a cluster of aberrations capable of breaking out of the Vault themselves. No aberration has ever made their way out of the vaults, except for the rare times that lower class Vaults ended up damaged. Occasionally, aberrations wander the surface and hunt, but they aren't too powerful. The strongest ones never leave the Vaults. Class 5 Vaults represent the fear and anxiety of them trying to leave, though.

The class system for the Vaults is pretty simple. The class system for Vault Breakers is a bit more bureaucratic, though. It's a few stacks of paper work for insurance purposes, paying dues to the corps you join, who to notify if you die, and covers all standard harassment policies and how everyone is expected to operate. After doing that, there's some testing in some lab room machines and some physical tests. Then they give a grade. That grade can improved upon un order to qualify for better benefits, opportunity, and level of work.

The lowest in this system is the "F-Ranker". It's typical that anyone who scores an F is not allowed to work as a Vault Breaker out in the field. Rather, they're directed to the Medic corps or the R&D corp. Those who insist on entering the field will have to retake the tests to be judged on their improvement.

"E-Rankers" typically end up as Scouts or Medics. They're allowed to take jobs, but must always accompany a team in order to ensure their own safety. Their job then becomes that of a support role in the Vaults. Those who don't enter the field begin to train under the leadership of a Captain within their corp.

When you make it to "D-Ranker", you're usually considered strong enough to lead a small team of similar ranks. Nobody can be placed above this point when getting their initial exam done. As a Runner, this is where one's training would actually begin. Learning how Vaults operate. Learning how aberrations move and how to kill them. It's all hands-on training, too. There's nothing to study at home. You have to study in the Vaults.

Becoming a "D-Ranker" was a turning point for many Vault Breakers. Going forward, it was likely that the job could not be done without significant change to the human body. Vault tech would be integrated into the body. Different types of machines would become one with the body and begin to change the way that a person functions. All of the changes were made to assist in the role that the Vault Breaker chose. Scouts had help being quick and elusive. Breakers would get stronger to carry more gear or augment themselves to become tools meant for clearing Vaults. Runners would become living weapons.

"C-Rankers" are considered the beginning of the elite ranks. Everyone who fought to make it to this point has the experience of a hundred soldiers. Most of have the scars to prove it, too. At HQ, there's a bunch of tech that gets sold to Vault Breakers for the purpose of doing their job. "C-Rankers" and above are allowed to look at the crazy cool stuff and get a discount on the generic gear.

"B-Rankers" are officers in their corps. Captains, Sergeants, and Commanders. Captains are leaders at the base level. They take out larger groups on deployments and often oversee everything when going into a Vault. Sergeants are a bit more independent. They're given more incentive to move on their own and can make decisions on a grander scale. If a Sergeant ordered a team of 200 Vault Breakers to charge inside a Vault, they'd do it in a heartbeat. Commanders are those who spend nearly their entire lives as a Vault Breaker. Standing at the top alongside the Chief. They serve as the direct subordinates and team members to the leader of the Vault Breakers. Each corps has at least one Commander overseeing their operations, too, and they are responsible for giving out advancements to those who perform well.

Almost every Vault Breaker thinks of "B" as their final rank to achieve. Any authority you could need is all right there. All the power and money you can earn is best once you make it to "B". It's rare that someone with enough drive and ambition will move into the "A-Rankers".

"A-Rankers" don't receive the rank because they fought really hard as a "B-Ranker". "A-Rankers" are required to go above and beyond to learn about the vaults. They have to teach other, train themselves, and lead the entirety of their corps. Physically, an "A-Ranker" isn't allowed to get tired in a Vault. They aren't allowed to fall behind. They must always stay alert, even for days without end. "A-Rankers" are the embodiment of everything it means to do this job. Only the best of the best make it to this point.

"S-Ranker" is the only thing above the best. It doesn't represent anything as far as merit and ability are concerned. "S-Rankers" are just "special", one might say. Something about them is unquantifiable. Lars Sorenson created the list and was deemed an "S-Ranker" by the system. He had augmented his own body to increase his physical capabilities. His brain was augmented to allow him to calculate faster. He operated on a scale that was above almost all others in the Vault Breakers. Because they couldn't even dream of catching up him, the upper command of the Vault Breakers deemed Lars to be "special".

There are two more statues in the hall. These two were the newest. Until just around twenty-five years ago, maybe a bit more, these two were put up at the same time. On my left is a legendary man. Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman. A hulking mass of muscle in every sense. People said he must have ate his own brain to get stronger and so he didn't have to think anything other than how big he was getting. That wasn't the case. Sarge's body was proof of his dedication. He augmented his body not for size, but for power and protection. He wanted power that would mean absolutely everything when it was needed.

Sarge himself broke into over thirty Vaults in the Terran Domain. His effort alone turned the domain into a powerhouse in producing new tech for the other Domains and producing some of the finest soldiers that they could send into more Vaults. His arms were designed to deliver force strong enough to break through waves of aberrations without tiring. With a piece of tech that he developed himself in the Crytin Domain, he could break through Vaults all on his own. A lot of Breakers used heavy and sophisticated tech to open blast doors. Sarge's arms simply could disable the magnetic locks and leave his massive physical power to open it the rest of the way.

In his final moments, Sarge used every ounce of his power. He split a blast door half-way open. Not nearly enough to fit through himself. Instead he tossed his friend through to safety and allowed it to close. It's believed that this was done to prevent the aberrations from making it out of the Vault.

Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman was a hero. A man who did more than was ever expected. And he did it with a smile. He smiled all the time, even in those final moments. At least, that's what my nana told me.

My nana was the most badass woman to ever be a Vault Breaker. Her statue actually stood across from Sarge's. After all, they were best friends for a long time. This woman, Gajjet "Hellion" Dirge, was the 60th Chief of the Vault Breakers. She earned her position through her applications of the knowledge she brought back from Vaults. She had theories about what the Vaults' purpose was and why they even exist. She led teams into the most dangerous of places. She did this all just to learn.

Gajjet never left a Vault without something to gain from it. It was only a few years before she retired that she discovered something that had never been confirmed or researched. Some of the Vaults were once labs for engineering life. It wasn't known how they were active and how they produced life still, but they seemed to be creating the aberrations. Unfortunately, Gajjet grew too old to fight through the Vaults. At that time, she stepped down and handed off her title to the next in command.

"Shit, Ymir, I gotta hide. Quit gawking at grandma's statue and hurry up!"

"Ah, fine! Fine! Why the hurry!?"

"Auntie Harper is coming!"

"….!"

I heard it for the first time ever. The sound of boots slamming against the ground in unison. In the HQ, a few dozen Vault Breakers had stopped everything they were doing, spun on a heel, and held a solid salute pose. A woman with the most powerful walk I had ever seen was walking towards us. There was no escaping this. She was looking right at me and Silva.

The woman with fiery crimson hair, tied back in a messy pony, stood before me with her arms crossed at her chest and feet shoulder width apart. She wore a white suit with a gold trim. On the left breast rested the symbol for the Vault Breakers, also embroidered with gold.. This was the 61st Chief of the Vault Breakers. Harper "Fireball" Dirge.

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

December 18th: wood for fuel

The vessel continued to proceed with all steam on; but on the 18th, the engineer, as he had predicted, announced that the coal would give out in the course of the day.

“Do not let the fires go down,” replied Mr. Fogg. “Keep them up to the last. Let the valves be filled.”

Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their position, called Passepartout, and ordered him to go for Captain Speedy. It was as if the honest fellow had been commanded to unchain a tiger. He went to the poop, saying to himself, “He will be like a madman!”

In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared on the poop-deck. The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was clear that he was on the point of bursting. “Where are we?” were the first words his anger permitted him to utter. Had the poor man been an apoplectic, he could never have recovered from his paroxysm of wrath.

“Where are we?” he repeated, with purple face.

“Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool,” replied Mr. Fogg, with imperturbable calmness.

“Pirate!” cried Captain Speedy.

“I have sent for you, sir—”

“Pickaroon!”

“—sir,” continued Mr. Fogg, “to ask you to sell me your vessel.”

“No! By all the devils, no!”

“But I shall be obliged to burn her.”

“Burn the ‘Henrietta’!”

“Yes; at least the upper part of her. The coal has given out.”

“Burn my vessel!” cried Captain Speedy, who could scarcely pronounce the words. “A vessel worth fifty thousand dollars!”

“Here are sixty thousand,” replied Phileas Fogg, handing the captain a roll of bank-bills. This had a prodigious effect on Andrew Speedy. An American can scarcely remain unmoved at the sight of sixty thousand dollars. The captain forgot in an instant his anger, his imprisonment, and all his grudges against his passenger. The “Henrietta” was twenty years old; it was a great bargain. The bomb would not go off after all. Mr. Fogg had taken away the match.

“And I shall still have the iron hull,” said the captain in a softer tone.

“The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?”

“Agreed.”

And Andrew Speedy, seizing the banknotes, counted them and consigned them to his pocket.

During this colloquy, Passepartout was as white as a sheet, and Fix seemed on the point of having an apoplectic fit. Nearly twenty thousand pounds had been expended, and Fogg left the hull and engine to the captain, that is, near the whole value of the craft! It was true, however, that fifty-five thousand pounds had been stolen from the Bank.

When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr. Fogg said to him, “Don’t let this astonish you, sir. You must know that I shall lose twenty thousand pounds, unless I arrive in London by a quarter before nine on the evening of the 21st of December. I missed the steamer at New York, and as you refused to take me to Liverpool—”

“And I did well!” cried Andrew Speedy; “for I have gained at least forty thousand dollars by it!” He added, more sedately, “Do you know one thing, Captain—”

“Fogg.”

“Captain Fogg, you’ve got something of the Yankee about you.”

And, having paid his passenger what he considered a high compliment, he was going away, when Mr. Fogg said, “The vessel now belongs to me?”

“Certainly, from the keel to the truck of the masts—all the wood, that is.”

“Very well. Have the interior seats, bunks, and frames pulled down, and burn them.”

It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up to the adequate pressure, and on that day the poop, cabins, bunks, and the spare deck were sacrificed.

[adventures-in-asexuality]

excised from year-end post for reasons of: incorrect tone

damn, I am... surprised and dismayed at how much I miss my grandmother.

I knew I would never see her again, probably never hear from her again. I spent the past few years writing letters that I was told she enjoyed reading; she was too ill to write back. it was difficult to know what to write about; work, and carefully edited book reviews, and small anecdotes that required no context.

still miss her.

it's been seven years since I moved down south. it's been longer than that since I last was at her house. it's been a decade or more since I last felt that her house was a safe still point in the world, a point that would welcome me no matter what. (how spoilt, to have had that in the first place, to act like losing it was anything more than returning to most people's baseline.)

still miss her.

she was ninety-one. she never had time for weakness or infirmity. she was tired and old and missing her husband of sixty-plus years. her death was a relief for everyone, giving them a much more complicated grief experience than I could ever claim to have.

still--

two of my younger cousins wrote to me - we were supposed to be like siblings, I was supposed to look after them, and instead I left - to tell me that she was proud of me, and it made me so angry that it took me weeks longer to write back. not at them - how kind of them; they shouldn't have had to take up my slack - but at - I don't know. at the universe. at myself. what would she be proud of? this strange grandchild who left? maybe one day I will build a self I can be proud of, but she will never see it.

it's not grief like a seven-year-old crying for their other grandmother. I don't cry much anymore, and I'm too tired to consistently have emotions much of the time. everyone else who grieves her has much sharper edges of grief, much more of a tangle of memory and experience. I just have a directionless ache flavoured with anger. it's nothing. we move on. it's nothing.

I went back for her funeral and, film-like, the vicar's beard was greying. his youngest son is my age; we grew up in parallel. I walked past her house, sold now to other people. this is not my grief. this is not my grief. I left over a decade ago. I have no claim to this. there was never any way back for me.

her birthday was the day before mine. the digits of our ages always added up to the same total. she called her study her scriptorium. she went to morning prayer at the church every morning - just her and the vicar - and when I was there I would go too. she drank tea constantly; I remember the precise amount of sugar. there were raspberry canes at the bottom of her garden; in good years she'd pick over a hundred pounds and make jam with them. you count them as you pick: 28 to an ounce; they weigh about a gram each.

I've been thinking about context recently. when I left part of what scared me is that all of my eighteen years of life were now mostly irrelevant. no one could know me as well as everyone I'd left behind. eighteen years of context! contrasted to this flat, one-dimensional new person I was building as I went.

but these days it's less oppressive. I have a decade or more of context with some friends; talking and talking and experiencing. some friends come into my life and reawaken bits of my past: an old songwriter duo whose lyrics I memorised long ago, the right way to make gravy or store eggs. old knowledge becomes relevant again. old jokes become relevant again.

one day, perhaps, I'll make raspberry jam with raspberries I've grown. one day I'll be around cats more regularly - she always had cats; I miss them. context is lost and reborn and cyclical. she always hosted Christmas meals for as many people as possible; this year her table sat in my flat with eight people gathered round it. it goes around.

[pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop]

Slowpoke, Slowbro, & Slowking

Slowpoke (#079)

Lutritardus edulis edulis (OG)

Lutritardus edulis flavum (Galarian)

Slowpoke are a notoriously dim-witted Pokémon, and have record slow reactions to external stimuli. It takes up to five seconds to process pain, and it can take up to a day to even notice that it’s lost its tail! Also, they are known for being extremely forgetful

There are two official regional variants of Slowpoke and co., the original and the Galarian one. (G) Slowpoke are different from the originals in that they eat Galarica seeds, and the particles from these seeds collect in their bodies (specifically the heads and tails) giving them yellow tips, and will occasionally get a sharp look in their eyes that seems like they have thought of a something profound, but then it disappears.

Famously, Slowpokes lose their tails but they grow back quickly enough (takes about 2 weeks in the wild, but in captivity it grows back as quickly as 3 days).

Adult Slowpokes average at 3’11 feet (1.2 m) and 79.4 pounds (36 kg). They’re surprisingly large!

Habitat: They live around freshwater rivers and coastlines, or really wherever they can get easy food and Shellders are located. (G) Slowpokes and family are exclusively found on the Isle of Man, where Galarica flowers grow in abundance.

Life Cycles: Slowpoke live for around a decade in the wild, and two decades in captivity. Slowbro can live for thirty to forty years in the wild, and upwards of fifty years in captivity. Slowking, however, have been known to live for sixty years in the wild, and the oldest known Slowking in captivity lived to be 81 years old.

Slowpoke become reproductively mature at two years old (and level 15, of course). Their mating habits are confusing as nobody has ever noticed any particular courtship rituals from Slowpokes, but they obviously make decisions on who to mate with somehow. Slowbros and Slowkings are similarly mysterious in their mating habits.

Female Lutritardus spp. produce 5 to 7 babies per breeding cycle. Genetic analysis of wild rafts indicates that Slowpokes and co. will mate with many members of their raft with no to few exclusive pairings and with no particular concern over sex. In temperate climates, mating appears to occur during winter, when the Slowpokes are close together a lot. Parenting of infants appears to be a group effort. The same genetic analyses suggest that male Slowbros and Slowkings are slightly more popular as mates than male Slowpokes, though the difference seems to be only a little bit.

Pseudo-Evolution: Slowpoke evolution is strange, and generally considered to not be “true” evolution, in the sense that they don’t permanently change their form with glowy magic. There is glowy magic that alters their forms, but its lack of true permanency is what gives it a different classification. However, Pokémon scientists consider it a tomato-tomato thing, and will still call it evolution colloquially—though, it is officially called “pseudo-evolution.”

(G) Slowbro and (G) Slowking are dependent on being (G) Slowpokes. They do not require any weird items, unlike in the games. Nor does regular Slowking require a King’s Rock, instead only needing a Shellder to clamp to its head and co-evolve at level 37 or higher. However, King’s Rock is an item that humans have discovered can substitute for Shellders on Slowkings because of internal magic, but this does NOT work to produce (G) Slowkings.

Variants: If a Zebra Shellder clamps onto a Slowpoke, they become a new variant of Slowking/Slowbro. The Slowkings have metal helmets from their Shellders, and the Slowbros typically have their Shellders on their chests. Why did the Shellders evolve this biting habit? Nobody knows, but it’s certainly not an exclusive spot.

Zebra Slowkings are Psychic/Steel but can learn poison-type attacks, and Zebra Slowbros are Water/Steel. Zebra-Galarian Slowkings are also Psychic/Steel, while Zebra-Galarian Slowbro are Poison/Steel.

Worth noting, (G) Slowpokes are capable of being trained to reach incredible speeds.

Diet: Slowpokes and family eat fish, though are notoriously poor fishers. However, as they demonstrate, a patient fisher is a successful fisher. They also eat algae and freshwater bugs that float into their mouths.

Conservation: Least Concern for the original variant, and Vulnerable for the (G) variant found only on the Isle of Man, strictly because they have an extremely limited natural habitat that gets encroached upon by humans. They do exist in captive breeding programs but those programs can be difficult to maintain, since Galarica flowers only natively grow on the Isle of Man.

Relationship with Humans: Slowpoke are a popular Pokémon in modern media. They are much beloved Pokémon, though they are often the victims of hooligans. They make excellent companions.

Slowpoke Tail is considered a delicacy in many parts of the world, and is often found at specialty grocery stores. It is not considered unethical to eat *by many* because the Slowpokes supposedly don't feel the pain, and their tails grow back quickly. Some groups want Slowpoke Tail consumption banned, but at most it's gotten strict regulations.

Some peoples believe that Slowpoke’s yawn causes rain, and in these cultures they are revered.

The Lutritardus genus is a subject of great interest in Pokémon Evolution.

Taxonomy: Yes, its scientific name DOES mean "delicious dim-witted otter."

Slowbro

Lutritardus kelyfos kelyfos (OG)

Lutritardus kelyfos flavum (G)

Slowbro lack the capacity to feel pain because of the Shellder biting on its tail and releasing its venom. They are typically laid-back, unintelligent, and peaceful—preferring not to fight. The Shellder clamping on its delicious tail can sometimes inspire the Slowbro to have complex thoughts.

Galarian Slowbro, however, is notoriously unpredictable and highly dangerous. They are usually laid-back and peaceful like their counterparts, but when enemies approach the Shellder on its arm bites down, sending a jolt to its nervous system, which triggers indiscriminate attacking of its environment. (G) Slowbros have rapid draw arm blasts, putting to shame even the fastest of reflexes.

Both regional variants average at 5’03 feet, and (OG) Slowbro are around 173.1 pounds, and (G) Slowbro are 155.4 pounds. All forms of Slowbro can Mega Evolve! Their mega form has minimal variation between regional forms, only differing in typing that is respective of their regionality.

Habitat: They live along the water’s edge, such as lakes, ponds, seashores, and rivers.  (G) Slowbros are only found on the Isle of Man.

Diet: Since it can no longer fish using its tail, Slowbro will swim after its prey. The scraps are fed to its Shellder.

Conservation: Least Concern, but the Galarian form is considered Vulnerable due to its only natural habitat being the Isle of Man.

Relationship with Humans: Slowbros are reasonably common in human society, since Slowpokes are frequent enough starter Pokémon because of their split evolution route. They’re easy enough to take care of, they’re laid back, and they’re reasonably good Pokémon to have on an adventuring party. The frequency of Slowbros as starters increases considerably in municipalities that live near wild Shellder populations.

Evolution: Slowpoke evolves into Slowbro starting at level 37 when a Shellder clamps onto an appendage that is specifically not the head. Regular Slowpokes typically have their tails bitten, and (G) Slowpokes typically have their arm bitten. The Zebra variants of both have the (Zebra) Shellder bite their chest, which forms a chest plate. All variants of Slowbro are capable of Mega Evolution.

Please do not remove the Shellder from a Slowbro.

Unofficial Variant: (Zebra) Slowbro is Psychic/Steel and (Galarian-Zebra) Slowbro is Poison/Steel. Be aware, that both are unofficial variants based on an unofficial regional variant of Shellder.

Slowking

Lutritardus coronatus coronatus (OG)

Lutritardus coronatus flavum (G)

Slowking have an ever-increasing intelligence caused by the Shellder venom interacting with its brain, which triggers a chemical chain-reaction that ultimately leads to unlocking great intelligence and extraordinary psychic powers. When it yawns, more venom is released. Its intuition is highly developed, and they’re able to figure out highly complex problems to degrees that are beyond the understandings of many. They are classified as Equivalently Human, and are even capable of human speech.

Galarian Slowkings experience a different chemical reaction from their Shellders, due to the Galarica spice particles in its brain. The Shellder achieves an awesome psychic power, and its mutualistic relationship between itself and the Slowpoke host becomes more parasitic, as the Shellder takes full control of the mind, rather than a co-partnership.

In some parts of the world, Slowking are known to match wits with Oranguru.

Habitat: They live along the water’s edge, such as lakes, ponds, seashores, and rivers.  (G) Slowking are only found on the Isle of Man.

Diet: They eat fish, which they swim for or sit around and use their tails as bait for.

Conservation: Least Concern, but (G) Slowking are listed as Vulnerable because its only native habitat is the Isle of Man.

Relationship with Humans: Slowkings appear regularly enough in human society, usually as the evolved form of many trainers. There is a weird legal grey area, since the Slowking was originally acquired as a Slowpoke (which are not considered Equivalently Human in the slightest), but its status as Equivalently Human can cause some paperwork conundrums for trainers. Anyone who picks Slowpoke as a starter is warned about this, that should it evolve into Slowking the trainer must return to a Pokémon Center at their earliest convenience with their Slowking and fill out legal paperwork confirming that the Slowking consents to being in captivity and all that. This is usually fine, but bad trainers often lose their starter Slowking during this process, since the Slowking is able to voice its true feelings. A well-treated Slowking is a lifelong companion

Evolution: Slowking evolve from Slowpoke starting at level 37, and the Shellder bites its head instead of some other part of the body. A King’s Rock works too, but it is not required. If the Shellder is removed from its head (which is very difficult to do), then the Slowking reverts back to being a Slowpoke.

Unofficial Variants: (Zebra) Slowking and (Galarian-Zebra) Slowking are both Psychic/Steel, be aware that these are unofficial variants based on an unofficial regional variant of Shellder.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

[trivalentlinks]

The Uncharacteristically Cuddly Kitty Job

[Reposted from this thread about Quinn's cat, Pancake]

Imagine Eliot sitting on the couch with a nice square of homemade, southern-style cornbread that he’s getting ready to enjoy when suddenly Pancake jumps up onto his lap.

“Hey,” he greets her, and she starts purring loudly, rubbing her face against his chest.

So far, so normal, Eliot thinks, taking a bite of his delicious, warm cornbread, which has turned out just the way he likes it.

Where things get a little strange is when Pancake starts bumping her head against his hand, the one not holding the cornbread.

“You don’t even like to be pet,” Eliot frowns, tentatively touching her head.

She leans all the way into Eliot’s hand, walking across his lap while pushing up against his hand until it’s run the length of her body.

She then moves forward towards the other hand.

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Eliot asks, moving his other hand out of the way. (He doesn’t want to get cat hair on his cornbread.)

“You don’t like pets, and you definitely don’t like cornbread–you ain’t Megabyte.”

Speaking of which, it’s strange that Megabyte isn’t there begging for a bite. Maybe she has finally learned that after her recent vet trip, Eliot has decided to be more serious about keeping to her diet.

Pancake gives him only a plaintive meow before reaching out farther towards the hand holding the cornbread trying to bump her head against it to solicit pets.

As soon as the cornbread is held as far out of the way as Eliot can reach, more than a little ways off the edge of the couch, a sixty pound blur of Belgian Malinois comes barrelling in out of nowhere.

Eliot freezes, unable to move the cornbread out of Megabyte’s path without throwing Pancake off of him violently, and in that moment, Megabyte swipes the cornbread right out of Eliot’s hand.

Megabyte strolls off to the other side of the room, sitting down to enjoy her ill-gotten snack.

Pancake immediately loses all interest in getting pet and jumps off of Eliot to go sit next to her friend.

That’s when Quinn looks up from where he’s been reading on the other couch.

“Eliot, did you just get conned by a cat and a dog?”