#my child just wants dee to be happy

[babyangelsky]

Best QL Parental Figures of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

I decided I was the mother of several QL characters this year who happened to have shitty parents but it's always worth remembering that not all QL parents and parental figures are shitty. Some of them are decent and they deserve to be recognized.

Not my favorites, the best. Because if they're the best, they're already my favorites because the bar is in hell.

♡ Jack's Grandma (Jack & Joker)

What would Jack and Joke do without grandma? What would any of us do without grandma? She's the heart of their little family, full of love and forgiveness and protectiveness.

♡ Pop's Dad (Addicted Heroin)

What a genuinely lovely man. Always trying his best to care for his family and guide his son. They may not have had a lot of money but he still provided a loving environment for his child after he and his wife separated.

♡ Tiger's Mom (Addicted Heroin)

It was at this moment that this woman became my favorite character in this show. Your son's friends can't have their moms come to this school event for one reason for another? No problem, she's everyone's mom now.

♡ Ai's Parents (I Saw You in My Dream)

Ai may have been their only biological child, but they had four children. They loved and supported Yu, Yo, and Ing like they were their own without hesitation. Not to mention the fact that they accepted all their gay sons while being very Catholic.

♡ Natsume's Mom (Cosmetic Playlover)

It's so nice to see a BL mom be excited to discover her son has a boyfriend and immediately and enthusiastically accept said boyfriend into the family. We need more of that.

♡ Prince Anan (The Loyal Pin)

In all the ways that matter, Anan is Anin's father. She may be his little sister but she's his kid. He loves her above all else. He never hesitated to defend her. Truly the only man in that palace worth a damn.

♡ Almond's Mom (Knock Knock Boys)

Was she a little overprotective in the beginning? Absolutely. Did she come around when Almond finally took the time to talk to her and respect the boundaries that he set and help the boys help Peak? Also absolutely.

♡ Takara's Grandpa (Takara's Treasure)

This man took a very unloved little boy and made him feel loved and at peace and gave him a hobby that would eventually lead him to finding the love of his life. Incredible work from an amazing grandpa.

♡ Dee's Grandma (Wandee Goodday)

Khun Mon is the kind of grandma we all wish we had. That woman is so cool. She made Dee feel so loved and safe that he was comfortable talking to her about everything. She was his rock to lean on and I'm so glad he had her.

♡ Taichi's Grandpa (I Hear the Sunspot)

This man made his grandbaby a birthday meal and it was in that moment that I decided that he deserves the world. Doesn't matter if it was burnt; it was made with all the love and care Taichi never got from his parents and for that it was the best meal ever.

♡ Hill's Grandma (Fourever You)

Considering how awful Hill's grandpa is, it's especially important to me that his grandma is loving and wonderful and accepting of him. I need her to be okay again so he can have her presence in his life.

♡ Zen's Grandma (The Rebound)

Zen's grandma wasn't just an amazing parental figure to him, but also to Ryu and to Atom, neither of whom had parents who deserved the title. She gave them a home and a safe harbor and she deserves to be happy and comfortable always.

♡ Peak's Dad (Knock Knock Boys)

A lack of communication can seem like a lack of love and acceptance if its left to stretch too long but thankfully, that wasn't the case here. Peak's dad wanted him to be happy more than anything. He loved his child. He wanted a family for his child. And most importantly, he got the opportunity to really talk to Peak and make sure Peak knew all those things.

♡ Princess Alisa (The Loyal Pin)

Now here is a mother who understood the assignment. Was she confused and shocked to learn that her daughter was gay? Quite. But then she immediately turned around and decided to be loving and supportive of Anin's choices and that is what we like to see.

♡ Oyei and Cher (Wandee Goodday)

Listen, they're Yak's parents. Yak is their child. He's their pride and joy and they want to see him thrive and be happy. Yei stepped up when their father peaced out of their lives and became the father that Yak deserved and when Cher came into the picture, he did the exact same thing.

♡ Joe's Mom (My Stand-In)

It wasn't just Joe that got a second chance when he woke up in a new body, it was the second Joe's mom, too. It wasn't quite the second chance she thought it was, but she still got a version of her son back and got the chance to make amends. She recognized her mistakes, learned from them, and repaired a relationship she thought she'd lost.

♡ Kram's Parents (Two Worlds)

Parallel universe shenanigans aside, Kram always had wonderful parents who adored him. Dilok, his father, may be one of my favorite characters ever and it's a real shame that he didn't get to shine as much in the show as he did in the novel.

♡ Saint's Dad (High School Frenemy)

Saint's dad has got to be my favorite example of how a parent can be imperfect and be battling their own demons but still genuinely care for their child. The man had his problems but he never took them out on Saint. He made sure his child was fed and cared for and wanted a good future for him and really, that's exactly what a good parent is supposed to do.

♡ Shao Peng's Parents (See Your Love)

These two people adore their son. It's easy to fall into the belief that the only kind of good parent is a perfect parent but that's just not the case. Even the very best parents will make missteps, although only a fraction of them will take the time to reflect on those missteps and how they've affected their child. Not only did Shao Peng's parents do that, they apologized to him for it and made sure he knew they loved him exactly as he was.

♡ Style's Dad (The Heart Killers)

He knows exactly what kind of person his son is and lovingly roasts him for it. Emphasis on the lovingly. Style's dad not only accepts that his son is gay, Style feels comfortable enough to talk about his boy problems with him. That tells me all I need to know about the solid relationship they have as father and son.

♡ Diew's Grandpa (Monster Next Door)

Grandparents who are a safe haven for their grandchildren will always have my eternal love and respect. When Diew couldn't talk to his mom, he had his grandpa. He felt safe with his grandpa. He knew his grandpa would always be there to listen and support him and advise him in a way his mother couldn't. And not only was grandpa that steady rock for Diew, but also for Diew's mom, and he was ultimately the reason she could come around and recognize her mistakes.

[respectthepetty]

Dee better be a Leo!

I'm so happy the first day of Pride landed on a SaturGay because we were all greeted by a birthday-filled Wandee Goodday!

Even though the birthdays were celebrated so the kids would have one day they didn't have to remember the sadness (this is going to come back to bite us in the ass when Yak and Dee aren't together, I'm sure)

But the reason I love it is because we learned Yak was was born December 6

Making him a Sagittarius. *horse sound effect*

Who tend to be friendly, flirty, funny, optimistic, and down to clown.

And you know what colors align with a Sagittarius? Purple (like Dee!)!

So if we get Wandee's birthday, I'm hoping he is a Leo (the best!) or a Gemini because their guiding color is yellow so it could link with Yak's yellow.

Wandee could also be an Aquarius because his (fake) blue would make sense, pero . . . I don't want it because, once again, I don't think the blue really captures his *essence*.

So even though Yak keeps wearing blue

I think that's just him absorbing Dee's environment without realizing how much he already feels for Dee, who is dramatic and stubborn, like a Leo.

Therefore, I'm still hoping that Yak will realize his feelings when he finally wears Dee's purple, so I'll be patiently waiting here for this Sagittarius to wear his power color.

However, if he does wear purple, it means that Dee has won since Dee is hellbent on making everything a competition; therefore, he must win everything, even trivial things that shouldn't be a competition.

As @doublel27 pointed out, Dee already crossed the line into pink = 💕love💕 territory (aka how a show becomes a Colors Award nominee)

Yet Dee won't even let Yak call himself Dee's boyfriend even though Yak has done it plenty of times for his advantage.

The thing is, Yak is the perfect balance for Dee with their white x black color dynamic, and not just sexually (which would make sense if Dee was a Leo, so please do not let him a Aquarius, dear God!)

Yak remembers important things like the EXACT amount of time they have been fake dating

When Ter couldn't even remember how long they had been friends.

Yak is honest and open with Dee and works as a team with him

While Ter can't even be honest with himself and sees Dee as competition (y'all really hate this man, but he is my poor little meow meow and I am captain of his apology squad)

But this is also Dee's problem - he isn't honest with himself and views everything as a competition, even when Yak has proven that Teamwork Makes the Dream Work.

For Yak, a man who excels at a sport that is based solely on individual talent where a person must knock out the competition to take claim his spot, he clearly knows the importance of working as a team and the value of including others.

This is something he has learned from his brother because even though Yak is the only one in the ring, without Cher and Yei's dedication to each other, the gym, and their child/brother, Yak would not be where he is.

And that's something Dee, who was raised by his free-spirited grandmother, needs to learn, especially as a doctor who works in a hospital with other doctors and nurses. (Those tiny boxing gloves need to be hanging on my rear-view mirror immediately, GMMTV. YOU HEAR ME?! Where is my merch?!)

A true balance (they switched colors) means you have to compromise. You can't always win. Sometimes you have to lose, intentionally.

Because as cute as this argument was over the ridiculousness of names/positions and toothbrushes with Yak's yellow big bunny brush having little yellow boxing gloves (thanks @babyangelsky) and Dee's purple brush with an adorable teeny tiger on it, the argument still gets to the point that Wandee refuses to lose.

He is sleeping with a big dick every night (I just really wanted to include the plushie)

He is cuddling on the couch with his grandmother in the next room.

He is dressing up and cuddling on the floor with the purple and yellow food items on the table.

He is trying to bake and cook when his grandmother never did, emphasis on trying.

And it's all because of Yak. Dee not only wants Yak, but he *needs* Yak because Yak makes him better and allows him to embrace his true self, but I truly believe Dee's need to win will overshadow everything else, which is maybe why he and Ter were such good friends for eight years since they don't remember dates they don't think are important, they need to win regardless of who gets hurts, and they won't realize what they have until it's gone.

But . . . that's just me thinking as a competitive and ambitious tiger Leo, so who knows?

Dee could just be an unpredictable Aquarius.

[dandylovesturtles]

Lil missing scene from the movie

My favorite trope is when a character who is very hungry gets fed

———

Casey’s stomach growls, and he can only hope it’s masked by the rumbling of the tank as it travels through the subway.

He’s good at ignoring hunger pangs by now. Knows how to swallow them down and push ahead, had to learn because there’s never been enough food to truly silence them. Maybe when he was a child, and the adults in his life were fine with going with less when it meant he would be full, but as Casey’s body grew and demanded more and more the colony only had less and less.

He just hopes the turtles didn’t hear it. It’s embarrassing, and not really the impression he’s trying to give. And besides, it’s not like there’s anything they can do about it. They’re not going to stop for lunch.

Unfortunately, his stomach has other plans - right as there’s a lull in the conversation it growls again, and this time Michelangelo turns away from the console and looks at him in awe.

“Dude, was that your stomach!?”

“Uh…” He grins, trying to shrug it off. “Yes?”

“That was sooo loud! I thought there was a bear in here!”

“Oh. Sorry. Uh… it’s been awhile since my last meal.”

He’s hoping they just drop it there, but…

“How long is “awhile”?” asks Leonardo. He sounds unimpressed, and there’s the same piercing look in his eye that Sensei would have when he’d ask the same. When’d you last eat, kid?

So Casey knows there’s no dodging this one. The thing is, he’s not sure how to answer the question - there was the whole time travel business, and the mission before that, and the time he spent unconscious, and the attack on the Foot Clan…

Point is, he can only guess. He hopes Leonardo doesn’t see it as lying.

“Um… thirty five hours? Maybe?” That’s a pretty conservative estimate, but he hopes it flies. “But I’m fine! I’ve handled worse than this.”

Leonardo staring at him. Actually, they’re all staring at him. None of them look happy, and Casey’s stomach flips from something other than hunger.

Then Leonardo sighs, and he sounds disappointed. Casey opens his mouth to plead his case, to assure Sensei that he’s fit and ready to go, but Leonardo interrupts him by addressing Donatello instead.

“What’ve we got in the snack stash, Dee?”

“Hmmm…” Donatello flips on the autopilot again, leaving his chair and flipping open a compartment on the wall. “Sour candy, hot Cheeto’s, some snack cakes…”

“Oh, you don’t want any of that on an empty stomach,” says Michelangelo. “Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

“Well, we have some pretzels in here, and… oh.” Donatello’s voice goes a little quieter. “Some of Raph’s protein bars.”

Casey starts to insist that he doesn’t want to take Raphael’s food, but before he can Donatello has closed the compartment, wrapped food in hand.

“If you’ve been eating,” he makes a face, “leaves and rats, this is probably the best thing we can give you right now.” He fans them out. “We have plain and chocolate chunk.”

“I like the peanut butter ones,” says Michelangelo, “but we can’t keep those around.”

(A memory: Master Michelangelo making him a peanut butter sandwich as a special treat. Carefully wiping down the counter and utensils he’d used. When Casey asked, he’d said, “Because Raph-“

The sad look on his face was brief, but Casey never forgot.

“…Because we need to be careful, in case someone has a peanut allergy.”)

“I know.”

He takes one of the plain ones, unwrapping it hesitantly. Sensei’s voice echoes in his head, Eat slow. Small bites.

He knows he should, but when he tastes it his stomach roars to life, ravenous and angry. Before he knows it he’s eaten the entire bar in four barely chewed bites, and wishes he hadn’t because now it’s gone and he feels hungrier than when he began.

They’re still staring at him. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just says, “Thank you,” sincerely, because sharing food is the ultimate gesture of love in the apocalypse.

The rest of the bars are suddenly being shoved his way - four of them in total. “Here,” says Donatello, not meeting his eyes. “You can have the rest.”

“Ah, no,” he says quickly, trying to push them back. “I can’t take-“

“Raph always forgets they’re here, anyway,” says Donatello, waving him off. “Someone might as well eat them.”

Casey takes the bars. Donatello sits back down. They’re not looking at him anymore.

He looks at the protein bars in his hands. He’s still hungry.

He takes smaller bites this time. Savors the taste of oats and other flavors he can’t readily identify. It’s good. It’s really, really good.

He stows the last three bars away. He may need them later. Or maybe he can give them back to Raphael, after they rescue him.

“Three minutes to Metro Tower,” says Donatello, and he focuses up. His stomach’s quiet now - there’s no excuses.

He found the key. Now it’s time to stop the Krang.

[imagionationstation]

DON’T GET ME STARTED!

(Absolutely no shame on @thesickesthockeylovingvigilante. The way this statement is used personally makes me uncomfortable, and that’s the only reason this is edited. Hope you understand 💞)

NO BUT CAUSE YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH HE MEANS TO ME

HE HAS JUST ALWAYS NOT SLEPT, MY PEOPLES! HIS BRAIN IS RUNNING AT ALL TIMES AND SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK

HE WAS BORN WITH THE INSTINCT TO SHARE! HE JUST WANTS TO SHARE WITH THE PEOPLE HE LOVES SO MUCH CAUSE HE’S SO GOOD

HE JUST LOVED HIS DAD SO SO MUCH

DADDY JUST RADIATES SAFETY HE WILL FALL ALSEEP ON HIS ARM RN WITH ABSOLUTELY NO REGRETS

PRECIOUS SWEEPY BOI

VIOLENT BOI

LOOKIT HIM DEFEND HISSELF

NO BUT GUYS DO YOU SEE- THAT GREEN THING IN HIS HAND IS TO THE CAMERA-

SMART BRILLAINT WONDER CHILD WAS DOING MORE THAN PLUGGING IN LAMPS! HE WAS FIGURING OUT CAMERAS BEFORE HE COULD TALK AND SAVING DADDY WITH HIS SMARTS!

NO, NO, NO- HE’S SO GOOD YOU DON’T GET IT-

SCARED BABY

WORRIED BABY

PROTECT BABY HE SO SMALL HE ONLY BABY-

HE’S JUST STICKING ANYTHING HE CAN INTO HIS MOUTH

THEY MOVE INTO THE SEWERS AND LIFE BECAME A DANGER ZONE! THAT SICK LIL’ DEE HEADCANON IS PRACTICALLY CANON WITH THIS EP IN MIND! 🤣🤒

THE WAY HE’S JUST LIKE- OOH, WHAT THAT-

HE’S JUST UP AND ABANDONING THEM EVERY CHANCE HE GETS HE SO SMALL AND CURIOUS AND HE JUST WANTS TO SEE THE WORLD-

HE JUST SO HAPPY TO BE ALIVE AND WORRIES ABOUT DADDY BECAUSE HE LOVES THEIR PROTECTER SO MUCH

THEY ALL DO!

THEY ALL SO GOOD I LOVE THEM 🥰🥰

AND IF WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY DONNIE TUCKS HIS HEAD CLOSER TO LEO I MIGHT JUST BREAK 🥺😭🥰

I CAN’T HE SO SMALL I LOVE HIS INTELLIGENT BABY SELF I AM SO VERY NORMAL ABOUT HIM-

[yayasvalveplay]

Can't stay here au (possible happy ending)

Sometime in the future we see Optimus and D16/Megatron at the dinner table with their sparklings.

Eldest sparkling: Carrier, Sire why do I look like a combo of so many of your friends instead of just you bots like my siblings?

Said Carrier and Sire stare at each other in awkward silence.

Optimus: Well, errrr...circumstances mandated that you...ummmm... be a group project!

Eldest sparkling: What's that suppose to mean?

D16/Megatron: WHO WANTS FROZEN ENERGON SUNDAES WITH PYRITE SPRINKLES?

(what would be the Cybertronian equivalent of an ice cream sundae anyway?)

I can 100% see that as a possible happy ending.

But also think about. Orion being in the high guard for so long he thinks hes a seeker by the time Dee finds him years later, because it takes Dee a few years to really come to terms what is happening around them.

Their eldest child is apart of Stars armada, and was the one who brought Dee over to their hideout, but he didn't know it was his Sire, just an intruder up on the surface with two other bots.

[vikkirosko]

Hi, enjoy reading your writing every single day. If it isn't too much can I ask for heck cannons, with Glam, Chive, and Dee reacting to finding out that their fem s/o is pregnant. How would they react? What would they do when s/o is dealing with morning sickness? How would they react to feeling the baby? And how would they react to seeing the small baby bump for the first? Sorry if I overdid it I'm just really curious and Metal Family is one of my favorite animated series.

Headcanons Pregnancy

💖 Glam x fem!Reader 🎸

Glam has always taken family planning seriously. He was in no hurry to propose to you, and even more so to have children. He didn't tell you, but secretly he was afraid that he would become like his father. The last thing Glam wanted for his children was such a future. But when you told him that you were pregnant, he was happy. He had never imagined this moment before, but he was genuinely happy that you two would have a baby

Glam took this issue very seriously. He started studying books about pregnancy and also looking for a home for you. The term of your pregnancy was still quite small, so you had time to prepare for everything, but pretty quickly the first signs of pregnancy began and nausea became the main one. You started to feel sick even from the smells of food that you usually liked. Glam cooked healthy food for you and made sure that you ate well and followed the regime

When your pregnancy period became a little longer, you got a small tummy. It was as if it was proof that the fact that you were expecting a baby was not a dream. Every time he put his palm on your stomach, he felt sincere happiness. He never thought that expecting a child would be such a joyful and exciting event in his life. You were preparing for the birth of a child together, buying everything you need and preparing a nursery in your new home

The closer the day when you were supposed to give birth became, the more he was sure that you would have absolutely nothing like it was in his childhood. He intended to be a better father than his father was. He wanted to make you and your child happy, so that you didn't need anything and that you had the best of everything

📚 Dee x fem!Reader 📱

You and Dee have never thought about children. You were about to graduate from high school and go to university and you both thought to focus on this, but your plans went to waste when you, clearly excited, told me that you were pregnant. You were practically panicking about it. You were afraid of what Dee might say, you had no idea how to tell your parents about it and you didn't know what to do, so Dee hurried to calm you down. He wasn't going to break up your relationship, especially now that you were pregnant

You sat together for a long time and discussed your plan of action. You understood that hiding your pregnancy would not work for too long, but Dee firmly decided that he would take responsibility and that together you would be able to combine studying and raising a child. You have been thinking for a long time about how to tell your parents about this, but your body itself reported it when you started toxicosis. Your parents were shocked that you were pregnant, and only the fact that the father of the child was Dee calmed them a little, because they knew Dee as a smart and responsible guy whom you loved and who loved you

Right after graduation, you bought an apartment. You had savings and your parents added money to you and now you could prepare for replenishment. When you got a little tummy, Dee was ready to cry. He would never admit to you that your pregnancy caused him so many emotions, but you yourself saw how his expression changed when you looked at your little tummy in the morning

You and Dee had a lot of difficulties ahead of you that you had to overcome together. You had no idea how you needed to raise a child and how to combine it with studying, but you were not going to stop. You were scared, and even though he didn't admit it, Dee was scared too. But you were sure that together you could handle everything

🧄 Chive x fem!Reader 🎸

You and Chive have been together for a long time and there has never been a conversation about children between you. It seemed like something far away than something that could happen to someone else, but not to you. However, when you started to feel sick often, Chive joked that you were pregnant. You both took it as a joke until you took a pregnancy test and it turned out that you were really pregnant. You were both surprised, but Chive quickly changed from surprise to joy. Even though your pregnancy was not planned, but you were still happy

You and Chive didn't really know how to raise children, but you had a home and a job and you could provide your unborn baby with everything necessary. He tried to help you cope with nausea as well as with a hangover, but this method did not work very well, so we had to look for new methods. When you went to the hospital together, they looked at you askance, as if you were guilty of something, but you didn't pay attention to their looks. Sometimes passersby also looked askance at you, but you didn't care about it

Gradually, the duration of your pregnancy has become longer and you have a small tummy. Chive began to touch your tummy often and smile. Then he started talking to the baby in your tummy. You laughed softly, saying that your baby was still too young and couldn't hear him, but Chive kept talking, and when Glam visited you, he proudly told his best friend that you were expecting a baby

You and Chive weren't model parents, but he was going to be the best father for your child. He remembered his childhood well, he remembered his mother who was often drunk and with whom he often quarreled, so he wanted your child to never experience what he himself experienced at the time

[quill-firefly]

The Sight of Stars Through a Gilded Cage (SG TFOne AU Fanfic)

I have finished all the training to secure my job so I am officially employed now, yippee.

I am very tired skskks I am writing this after an entire day of job training, which isn't good cause my brain is very tired and words are hard. But I wanted to write something that will make me at least a little happy (as a treat for the long exhausting day).

To help in reading, essentially there's three sections. First section is the present, second section is the past, and third section is like really far back in the past. So it's chronologically backwards.

Anyway, as can be apparent from most of my Shattered Glass fics which feature Starscream, I am a father/mentor-figure Starscream truther (at least for TFOne and thank you storyboards for feeding that agenda hahaha). On Tumblr, since I did receive two new writing requests about platonic yanderes, I'm writing this fic as a sort of indulgence for myself and to help practice writing platonic yanderes (cause different vibes from romantic yanderes). Now, why did I write this in the Shattered Glass AU instead of just the normal universe? Because I like making SG!Megatron suffer (this is what happens to my favorite characters lmao). Also I need to practice in writing SG!Starscream because I prefer to have my SG TFOne AU keep some semblance of their canonical personality and I feel I might be leaning too much into the SG comics for inspiration instead of the TFOne characters themselves.

Also, it's not that important but I do ship Starscream and Megatronus Prime now (even though they never interact in the movie because one of them is dead HAHAHA) because I don't know I feel like those two probably worked closely together before Megatronus Prime died (and because there's no Skyfire in TFOne so I can't go to my automatic ship HAHAHA). I only point this out cause it's in the tags, and also Starscream can't help but see Megatronus Prime in Dee (mostly because I keep seeing those silly posts on Tumblr where people joke Dee is Megatronus Prime's secret love child and it makes me laugh at the thought - and it isn't helped that my SG!Megatron could fly and technically modelled his transformation cog after Starscream's… so ya know the accidental implication I have made is funny). Also also, I saw a Tumblr post (WHICH I LOST DAMNIT BUT GOD WHOEVER POSTED THAT COOKED) where like they compared Startronus as Rose x Pearl and Megatron as Steven and it was so good skskksksk

Also this is somewhat related to "The Prime from Another Universe" but not really, I'm just using the same concept of Dee wanting to leave Cybertron and just travel the stars - but here he's guilt-tripped into staying.

TW: Platonic Yandere Stuff

When you are banished from the only home you’ve ever known, where do you go?

Dee thought he had a home.

Pax had been his home.

Then he met Prime, and Dee realized he never had a home. 

He had carved a place for himself inside Pax’s spark and called it home, but to the other mech, Dee would never have been enough. He had wanted more, not that Dee could resent him for it now. It was for the best that they parted.

Pax could have his dream, and Dee could have his.

Yet even now, the stars continue to slip through his digits.

Was it the moral core in his processor that grounded him, or the golden cage he’d willingly chosen to enter?

Now… Dee thought that wasn’t fair.

After he had fruitlessly battled Pax to save a mech Dee didn’t think deserved to live anyway, Starscream had generously taken him in knowing that the rough terrain of the surface would have eventually killed him.

Dee was not a survivor. Never had been.

He had followed Sentinel’s words without doubt. He kept his helm low, and never questioned the system they had been placed within.

Pax was the survivor.

That’s why Primus chose him.

And it’s why Pax would never have stayed with Dee. He would have never settled for a life he thought he didn’t deserve.

Even with the rule of a new Prime, there was nothing stopping Dee from leaving. The Quintessons had been defeated. All that remained was Optimus Prime and the tyranny he posed.

He couldn’t leave though.

He owed too much to the High Guard to abandon them.

He owed it to Starscream. After everything, he owed it to him the most…

Besides, he already asked Starscream once.

He tried to ask.

Once.

—

Starscream couldn’t help but keep both his optics on his new responsibility.

Starscream had been older than Dee when he had first applied to the High Guard. It had been a decision he had made, and a choice he would never regret. He had chosen to fight for the planet he loved.

A war was no place for a mech so young.

When Starscream could force his anger down, even he felt sorry for the new Prime. Ambitious as Orion Pax may have been, Starscream knew the young mech was not ready for the responsibility of being a Prime and the Matrix-holder.

The Thirteen Primes had been vastly older and Starscream had to deal with their tantrums.

Well not all of them.

Megatronus had been…

He had been wonderful.

The kindest and strongest mech he had ever known. A true warrior of both the body and the spark. Starscream would have laid down his life for his Prime if Megatronus had ever allowed him to.

How many lunar cycles did they spend together? Megatronus Prime would always whisper to him - as though it was their secret - that he wished his fellow Primes were not so wrathful and so power hungry.

Starscream missed him—

“Starscream?”

He shook his helm, forcing a scowl to his faceplate as he turned to the younger mech. They were both in the medical bay, and if Dee hadn’t been the medic assigned during this particular joor, Starscream might have put up more of a fight. He never did like being grounded. Also, it didn’t help that the only other medic around was Shockwave who would have fussed over Starscream as if he was a sparkling and not the Commander of the High Guard.

“What? I told you and those pain-in-the-aft trine brothers of mine that the scratches in my wings did not need repairs!” It had been nothing more than a scuffle between him and one of the Prime’s scouts. Really, Thundercracker and Skywarp had given him more pain by dragging him to the medical bay. “This is a waste of medical resources—”

“...That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Dee muttered, the words low in his vocoder that Starscream’s audials nearly missed it.

“Is your shift over? If it is then let me out, I don’t want to deal with Shockwave.” He rolled his optics. Shockwave’s high empathy was the reason why Starscream made him medic… but Primus knows that the other mech meddled too much.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say but… Starscream, as the leader of the High Guard, I don’t think it’s a waste to use our medical resources on you.” The younger mech’s blue optics met his own, a hardness in his eyes. “When I was a miner, medical supplies were abundant but it would cost us our energon rations if we were to be sent to the medical bay. I know you want to keep the High Guard functioning by conserving resources, but I don’t think depriving anyone of medical assistance will help. Especially if you deprive yourself, Commander.”

“Is that anyway to talk to your superior officer?” A growl tore through his vocoder, though both mechs knew it held no threat. 

He held too much of a softspark for his new responsibility.

“Starscream, you deserve to live for yourself too.”

‘You shouldn’t throw your life away for mine.’

Starscream nearly fell off the medical berth. He placed a servo to his helm, surprised to hear the voice of a mech long dead. Slowly, he turned his optics to a startled Dee, who watched him with a concerned gaze.

He hated that this wasn’t the first time Megatronus Prime’s ghost had come to haunt him.

He had spent fifty cycles trying to forget what he had lost, and yet all of that effort was thrown away the moment this… this…

Starscream hated how the young mech reminded him too much of Megatronus.

Maybe it was the stupid helm shape. 

But mostly it was the personality, and that they both had wanted a world where they could live in peace.

What Starscream hated the most was that he had allowed Dee to study his transformation cog, because now—

“Starscream?”

His processor halted in its thoughts, and Starscream remembered himself. He focused all his attention back on the younger mech - whose blue optics had lowered, as though the ground was suddenly interesting.

“What?” He couldn’t stop the irritation from seeping into his voice, though they both knew it was never real.

“Now that the war with the Quintessons is over… and if only because of you that I have the ability to transform and fly… I wanted…” The young mech finally met his optics, and a sense of dread made the spark in his chassis grow cold. “Forgive me, but I wish to leave Cybertron—”

“Have you lost your processor?!” His voice went shrill and before he knew it, his servos were gripping onto the younger mech’s shoulder pads, the metal creaking underneath his strength. “The Quintessons may not be attacking the surface of Cybertron, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t waiting in orbit!”

“You heard the decree they sent out. They won’t be coming back. Not after everything that Prime did.” Dee shuddered in his hold, though Starscream truly couldn’t tell if it was fear of the horrors they had witnessed the new Prime commit or if he was… scared of Starscream himself.

He loosened his grip, guilt already gnawing at his spark.

“We don’t know that.”

But Starscream did.

The death of the Thirteen Primes had incentivized the Quintessons into staying and forcing Sentinel into serving them. But with the return of a new Prime, one somehow worse than all thirteen combined, the Quintessons wouldn’t dare to come back. 

After all, they only forced Sentinel into serving their needs as penance for what the Thirteen Primes had done to them.

The Quintessons had never started the war, they weren’t about to stay for another one.

“Listen to me.” Starscream took his servos off of Dee’s shoulder, though he wanted nothing more to keep the younger mech close. “The Quintessons may have left, but they may still be lurking in Cybertronian airspace. You cannot leave Cybertron.”

“Starscream, with all due respect, I don’t believe that and I know you don’t either.”

At that comment, Starscream can’t help but sympathize with Prime. It was wrong, but Starscream did miss when the younger mech had been more agreeable and willing to go along with his words.

The confrontation with Sentinel had taught the young mech to be doubtful.

And that was good!

Starscream just… wished the younger didn’t show the same scrutiny towards his own authority.

“You want me to tell the truth? Then I will.” Starscream stood up from the medical berth, approaching the younger mech who held his ground.

There was no fear in Dee’s eyes, and Starscream was grateful for that. 

Even now, there was still some trust.

“The High Guard cannot afford to lose more mechs.”

Blue optics widened, surprise meeting the coldness that Starscream forced into his gaze.

Right now, he couldn’t be Dee’s friend.

He couldn’t even be a mentor.

Right now, if he wanted to ensure the younger mech stayed, then he needed to be a Commander.

“We have had our losses during our battle with the Quintessons, and while some Iaconians have defected to our side, we cannot afford to lose anymore.” He could feel guilt at using his dead comrades as his excuse, but Starscream could not let Dee leave. “You’re one of two medics right now. While we have new ones in training, we cannot lose you. Remember what it was like back when you were a miner, imagine what would have happened if they didn’t have a medic that could attend to you?”

It was a low blow, and from the horror in the younger mech’s optics, Starscream knew the question he had posed was not a hypothetical.

He let out a soft vent, reaching out to place a servo on the younger mech.

“The High Guard needs you.”

His grip tightened.

Megatronus would hate him for this.

But what had Dee said?

‘You deserve to live for yourself too.’

He had lost Megatronus cycles ago.

He was not about to lose his new ward too.

Starscream didn’t miss the flash of fear in Dee’s blue optics.

“I’ll stay.”

—

Optimus didn’t know loss until he had lost Dee.

That’s why when he had learned the bitterness of that feeling did he only recognize the look in that pathetic High Guard leader’s optics.

Loss.

Optimus knew the mech’s story.

The Thirteen Primes rarely kept records of their personal thoughts, but Optimus had been lucky enough to find one of Megatronus’ in the archives. Probably the only Prime who had the time since he was the weakest out of all of them.

There was a lot of information about that High Guard Commander in those records.

Perhaps, a bit too much.

The realization of the similar loss they both shared had only come when Optimus had accidentally come across Starscream and Dee on the surface.

He would usually send scouts, but Optimus had wanted to find the High Guard base for himself.

Optimus had hidden himself before the two mechs could spot him.

His spark had ached at the sight of Dee, but mostly he was confused because Dee looked different.

He wasn’t cogless for a start.

Optimus didn’t even have the time to wonder how that had happened - though his processor fleetingly recalled a conversation they had about replicating transformation technology - before his attention had been pulled towards Starscream.

Each time Dee’s optics would wander away from Starscream, the older mech would look at him with such affection that Optimus wanted to tear his helm from his frame.

But no, it was a different kind of affection.

It was one he had never really known. Cogless bots had grown up in the cold and dark of the mines, but Optimus recognized this affection from other mechs that had had the privilege of not being cogless.

It was the affection of a sire for their sparkling.

…He needed to save Dee.

[whumble-beeee]

Just Relax (It's Not That Serious)

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 13

Content: drugging, noncon undressing, dissociation, (fear of) needles, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, flashbacks (ptsd), tied up/handcuffs, past captivity references, begging, fear, light unreality? (related to the ptsd)

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[The first 72 hours after a hero’s capture is also massively critical to you, villain, as your hero’s keeper! When planning on long-term hero-keeping, use this time to lie low, keep your hero firmly in your grasp, and really set the mood for the rest of their stay. Set non-negotiable expectations. Show your patience. For as much as your hero may fight you, curse and jeer and scorn and defy you, they will still be only human (with select power exceptions, of course). They will still need food, water, shelter. All of which must be obtained from you, their captor! You are the one ultimately in control, no matter how much the hero may scream otherwise. 

So why are these first 72 hours so important? Well, how long do experts generally agree that a person can survive without food or water? How long can they ignore you? How long before they have to rely on you for their every need?

72 hours.

Be patient.

Make them count.]

* * * * * * * *

“Finally, Christ,” Deeby muttered under his breath as Stan finished forcing the bar down his throat. It had taken him longer than he'd meant, what with the dehydration and the not wanting to be drugged and the weary pain that seeped into his every bone and the spinning of the room and the not wanting to be drugged. It was a surprisingly difficult task to knowingly poison himself. Who’d've thunk?

“Happy?” Stan finally spat with a heaving breath. There was the slightest taste of salt and battery acid twinging the back of his mouth. It made him nauseous.

Deeby absent-mindedly grabbed the used protein bar wrapper and tossed it into his plastic bag. “Yeah. Not done yet, though.”

 Stan whined. It was all he could do to not start crying on the spot. “Why can't you just let me fall into unconsciousness in peace? I ate your stupid protein bar! It's-it's never-ending with you!”

“Well, it feels less gross to have you undress now than when you're high off your ass.”

Stan blinked. It was like the world had been overlaid with TV static for a moment. But he was back. Violently. Because what? “Ah– Co-come again?” 

“Your uh– fuckin’... What's it called, your tank top? The transgender tank top, the one that squishes your ribs. Your… ‘tranksgender’ top.”

“My binder?”

Deeby snapped his fingers in triumph. “That's the bitch! We're taking that off now.”

“WHAT?!”

“I can help if you want. I don’t know how long it's gonna take the drug to start affecting you, considering you haven’t eaten in two days, so it might not–”

“I’m not taking my binder off!” Stan yelled, startling back from yet another all-consuming dip into the static. The worst part was, it wasn't even unpleasant. He almost would have enjoyed it, save for the predator six feet away stalking at him as if he were a wounded antelope, one hand resting on the ornate knife holstered right next to his gun. His eyes sparkled with that ever-dangerous red excitement that Stan had become painfully acquainted with again and again and again over the past two days, though there was something more serious underneath the child-like sadism. Tired eyes, deep breaths... 

“I know you're not supposed to wear it for this long, runt.” The mercenary brushed the still bright-red gash on his cheek from where Stan had whacked him with the handcuffs. “And besides, I still need to get you back for this. Please make me do it the hard way.”

Stan’s breath caught between a groan and a cry and his vision swam around him, only grounded by the sudden noxious pit in his stomach. “Dee-deeby…” he panted. “Stay away from me.”

Deeby continued to stalk closer, voice taking that dangerous low twang, the light bass growl snaking through the room and slithering around Stan’s throat, suffocating him more than a literal yank by his damn collar would. “Aw…” he tutted. “That's no fun, is it chiquito? I think you just need–”

“OKAY, OKAY!” Stan skittered back, pressing himself into the wall with racing heart and rabbit-fast breath. “I'll-I'll do it, I'll do it! You don't– You–... I'll take off my binder…”

That did, in fact, stop Deeby dead in his tracks. Stan swayed. Deeby looked at him expectantly. Stan stared into the distance. Deeby raised an eyebrow and made an impatient circular motion at Stan with his hands: get moving.

The static.

“Runt, if you don’t–”

“I– jus– ju-just-just don't touch me–”

“Stan–” Deeby warned, taking a single step toward him. All the air sucked out of the room. “I'm done giving you chances. Off. Now, or I'll do it.”

Stan grit his teeth with an almost mewling whine. His cheeks burned a bright red embarrassment under near-invisible blue freckles, and his very lungs stuttered as they tried to figure out if he wanted to scream or just cry. He started to pulled the shirt over his head, slowly, as if he could go slow enough that the bounty hunter would just get bored and give up entirely.

Ha.

Then he lost his way. He searched. More fabric. Where did the holes go? Where was he? He was lost! He tangled his arms around, searching, growling with frustration as he unsuccessfully tried to free himself, genuinely trapped as time simultaneously moved way too fast and excruciatingly slow. Then a whoosh, and his cotton-polyester prison disappeared, pulled off over his head to reveal a very amused Deeby glinting back at him, eyes sparkling as always. 

It was so cold in here.

Stan shoved him away, thankfully braced against the wall or else he might have fallen over himself. The world was so… tilted.

“Turn-turn around,” Stan ordered, blinking hard to keep himself present.

“What, no ‘thank you?’”

“Turn around!”

“Not turning around, bud.”

“Please, I don-don’t– don’t want you to-to see– to–...Turn around!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Please! Deeby, I’m begging!”

“Not happenin’,” he sang, deadpan as ever.

“I thought you-you-you-ou said you weren't gugh-guh-gon-gonna–...” Stan shivered and took a deep breath. This stutter was driving him insane. “Tha-at you weren't a perv!”

“I'm not. I'm not gonna do anything except make sure you're not trying to pull some shit.”

“I won’t! I'm drugged! I-I can’t even take my shirt off!”

“All the more reason–”

“Declan!” Stan pleaded, pupils blown out and wide, tension at the top of his mouth so tight he was sure he was about to start bawling. “I care. I care-are-re. I don’t wan-want you–... Please…”

His voice turned high and quiet, tears burning to fall, pressure building up behind his eyes and ready to burst.

“Plea-ease…”

Declan closed his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose. Another tired deep breath.

“Turn yourself around if you care so much,” he muttered. The knife appeared in his hands, point pressed into the taut fabric on Stan's chest. “I'm done playing games. Stop stalling. Now.”

“I’m no-ot–”

The mercenary grabbed the strap of Stan’s binder and yanked him forward, barely pulling the knife out of the way in time for Stan to not fall on top of it and instead sending him hurtling into the man’s chest with a blood-curdling screech, then flailing and shoving off of the captor as hard as humanly possible. The push mixed with a sudden heavy fog bank engulfing his mind mixed with a painful misstep on his bad leg caused him to all but crumble to the freezing concrete floor in a heap, chin banged and bleeding and dripping and staining on the ground as his face pressing into scratchy dirt particles, as he laid there confused and scared and scrambling, just trying to figure out how to silence the roaring confusion of his mind as it blindly panicked in the pressing, buzzing fog that surrounded it. Threatened to swallow him whole.

Then a force grasped him by the back of his neck. Then a knee planted into the base of his spine. The full body weight of a man at least twice his size ground into his lower vertebrates, seemingly trying to press them straight through the soft flesh of his stomach into the unforgiving floor.

Stan screamed.

Was Deeby going back on his promise not to–

GET OFF!!

His binder, he couldn't let Declan take it off.

OWOWOWOWOW– NO NONONO–

The fog the fog the fog the fog the fog the fog buzzing buzzing buzzing buzzing BZZZZZZZZZZ–

A gloved hand pressed him into the floor by the back of his neck. Others in scratchy black tactical gear held his flailing limbs down. He strained. He cried. He screamed. He screamed so loud. So loud his throat was sore. They didn’t let up.

He wanted his mom. His dad. His sister. COME HELP!! Where were they? He cried out for them, heaving sobs. Unheeded.

“DEEBY!” He screeched, feet kicking out as if they could somehow free himself if he just kicked hard enough. “Get off! GET OFF! You're not taking my binder off–!”

“Mhm, yeah, sure bud,” Deeby mumbled as Stan continued his tantrum. His fingers squeezed slightly at either side of Stan’s neck. Warning. Patient. Waiting. He was waiting him out. Stan's head spun as if filled with angry bees, cries becoming weaker, fighting more and more sluggish as Deeby just sat on top of him.

Where was his sister? Where was Chloe?! CHLOE!! He needed to protect her! That was his only task! Protect her! He’d failed, he’d failed, he needed to save her, save them, get away. Every time he raged and strained and screamed another hand just came to pin him to the dusty ground. He was an animal thrashing around in a cage, a trap that only tightened around his throat the more he struggled.

“DEEBY– Deeby… Declan, Deeb– please get off, please, I need to save her, I don't– I just– can't–... ple-ee-ea-ease…” 

Deeby didn't say anything. Was it the drug that made him feel like he was floating on air as a pressure chamber simultaneously caged in his skull, teasing it to shatter? Or maybe the hyperventilating as he realized there was no escape. Or maybe the gutting hunger, or the throat squeezing thirst, or the burning panic, or the bone-deep exhaustion, or the pain, the pain, make it stop, all-encompassing, never-ending, or the violent shaking from lack of oxygen, or any number of the many other things that were wrong with him. Maybe all of them. His limbs lay stiff, as if held down by lead weights. His protests devolved into barely a whimpering whisper. He couldn't breathe. Not with the bounty hunter on top of him pressing his stomach into the floor, not with the probably broken ribs, not with the binder pressing into the swelling of his ribs and making every intake of air a monumentally agonizing feat achieved less and less each time…

“God, shut her up, I’m not dealing with this in the transport.”

“Really? It’s just a kid.”

“Unless you’d rather I shut her up myself.”

NO NO NO ESCAPE ESCAPE HE NEEDED TO FIND HIS FAMILY–

A tiny little prick on his upper arm. He screamed. Screamed until he couldn’t anymore, screamed because he couldn’t do anything else, screamed until one of the gloved hands slapped over his mouth and stayed there until he quieted, and then he couldn’t even scream. It stayed there until tears soaked through the course fabric. The edges of his vision started to go dark. 

“That’s it kid, shut up, go to sleep. Don’t struggle. It’ll be easier if you just relax.”

His head fell limp against the dirty ground.

He was gonna die here, wasn't he?

Yeah.

Made sense. 

He let his head lie down on the floor.

He lurched with silent sobs.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He couldn't.

This was all pointless.

He was done.

And he went limp.

“There ya go. Attaboy.”

Deeby's voice came from above him. Slow, comforting, praising, as if he were speaking from a thousand miles away.

“Attagirl…” The last voice he heard. The last time he saw his childhood home. The last time he saw his parents. The end of his first fight for his life. Failed. 

The black consumed him. 

Stan let out something between a whine and a sob. The mercenary took just a moment to readjust, legs now caging him in and pushing inward on either side of Stan's hips. “Yeah okay, whatever runt. Let’s just get this done.” 

Deeby's fingers probed under the binder for a moment, causing Stan to squirm anew purely on instinct. Until he hit a particularly nasty bruise. An electrical storm webbed through his ribcage. A flash of white. Stan yelped a cut-off, strangled squeal, a sound he prayed he’d never have to hear again.

“Sorry…” muttered above him. His binder flipped upward and over itself, a brief squeeze, the fabric pulling lightly at his skin, his arms, his hair, then pressure relieved.

Breathe in…

Holy fuck, he was alive!

Stan gulped in the first deep breath he'd taken in what felt like years, gasping and desperate and a full, deep breath. His senses sharpened. Kinda. He still sat pinned within a sea of cotton, the static that blanketed the clouds, limbs heavy, mind slow. But he could breathe! He almost remembered that he only felt like this because Deeby forcibly stripped him. That bitch.

“Holy shit,” the bounty hunter whispered quietly, amazed, almost inaudible. A moment of breath-taking clarity as adrenaline shot through Stan’s system for one last, final hurrah. Holy shit?

“Wh-what, what–?” He tried unsuccessfully to turn around and see. He even managed to convince himself that he didn't care that his tits were basically out, right before he flopped face-first into the ground again. This drug worked miracles.

Declan paused for a moment. Then: “Ah… Nothing, nothing, just, your ribs are much worse off than I thought. Bruised to shit…”

Stan laughed. Really? Bruised to shit? Who could have guessed? The burning anger and hatred and desperation he expected to feel, that he'd been fighting nonstop for two or three or however-the-hell many days straight? It was now buried under layers of static and sand and that lovely familiar darkness which pressed everything that made him himself to somewhere deep in the darkest recesses of his brain, unnoticed in the rolling fog. Though the knot in his throat that made him want to burst out crying still persisted. That was weird. What did he have to cry about? “Yeah… maybe you should… not… Aheh, uh, throw me… to–... walls anymore…” he giggled. He was pretty sure at least. That’s what his voice sounded like, right?

His limbs were so heavy. He might not be able to move them if he tried. Not that he wanted to. What if he just went to sleep right here?

Ah shit, he didn't have a shirt on still.

But like, who even cared anymore? The mercenary would take what he wanted, including Stan’s shirt, including his binder. He could take everything from him. Take his freedom, take his personhood, take any slight chance at happiness or have a normal family that wasn’t shattered to pieces. Shoot him with that pretty old gun, take his life entirely. Come back again and again just to make sure Stan never saw the light of day again. Who even cared if he saw Stan’s chest? Who even cared if this was one of the most humiliating things to ever happen to him? He shouldn’t fight so hard. He wouldn't be pinned face down to the floor and chained up and drugged if he just stopped fighting. This was fine. He felt fine. He liked this.

Keep fighting, rage, rage, escape.

Oh, shut up.

He felt the white overly large shirt being pulled back on over his head a million miles away, something with Eeby-Deeby getting frustrated again and his arms getting roughly shoved through the armholes before Stan could even try to lift his leaden limbs.

Chill out, man. It's fine. It's not that serious.

The way the world swirled around him was almost a comfort now. He was drugged. He knew it, it was just a fact now. The fog and the static and the way he could barely think and the way it was kinda hard to move and the way it took a second to move even if he did actually want to move… That wasn’t really Stan. That was some other guy. He was just drugged. Drugged Stan.

It was nice. Normal Stan was always so wound up about everything. Normal Stan fought so hard to change what couldn’t be changed, made everything so much worse for himself. And for what? He’d always be captured again, always chained up, always poked and prodded and beholden to the will of others, always treated like a petulant, whiny animal that needs to be tamed. Normal Stan couldn’t seem to get that. Normal Stan was those bad thoughts at the edges of his mind, the ones that kept him screaming, running, fighting even when Deeby got up off of him and gave him water which he desperately needed, sweet, sweet, water that relieved the pain and carried all his troubles away like a gently rushing river, cooled his insides of the burning heat and anger. GOD, he forgot how nice water tasted.

It was weird. Eeber-Deeber was almost thoughtful, in his own special way. When you looked past the violence. Stan should be nicer to him, make him not have to violence so much. Maybe then Stan go home! No fight, just go home and see his family… he didn’t really have a home, did he? No… But that was okay, because he still had Marcus and Chloe! He could see them again! That would be nice. Marcus, Chloe. He loved them so much. He needed to protect them. Why was he still here? His Mom and Dad couldn’t protect them, it was his job because they were…

Dead?

Dead.

It was for the best that they were.

It was fine though. It wasn’t that serious. 

…

He missed them.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything

@paperprinxe | @tippytappytyping | @chaotic-orphan | @notactuallyluska | @thebestieyoureinlovewith

(If you'd like to be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[alwaysonthemend]

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ON HIATUS

Hello there! Welcome to my little corner of the Internet! You can add yourself to my taglist here

Friendly reminder that I am an 18+ ONLY blog so please put your age in your bio or you will be blocked

My requests are currently: CLOSED

- Please be patient with me in getting requests out. I am both a struggling college student and I also have a job so sometimes I am on the slower side (read: very slow side) of getting things out. So please be kind and understanding and know that I want everything that I post to be my very best work and not rushed -

Thanks for stopping by! Happy reading!

~ Dee 🤍

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

☾ smut

✺ fluff

✮ angst

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A Night of Revelry ☾

A Lazy Night ✺

Falling, Fallen ✺☾✮

Mini Fic ✺✮

What It Means To Say I Love You ✺☾✮

Sin and Sinuous ☾

Dance with the Devil ☾

Rock or Bust ☾

Carpe Noctem ☾

Give Me All You Got ☾

Sweet Child O Mine ☾

Blue Water World ✺

Like Real People Do ✺☾✮

Would You Be So Kind ✺

Sugar and Spice ✺☾ - A Holiday Special

Purple Haze ☾

Just Like Velvet ✺☾

Cloaked Hearts ✺☾✮ (Complete)

Part 1

Part 2

Treasure of the Heart ✺☾

Icarus ☾

Love Me Like You Don't ☾

The Best Friend Contract - A New Years Special ✺☾✮

--

Mirror of the Damned ⚔️

The Nightcap ☾

Pretty Boy ☾

Light My Love (WIP - on hold) ✺☾✮

Part 1

Part 2

Patience ☾

Absolutely Smitten ✺☾ - Valentine's Day Special

Good Girl ☾

Lovin' You ✺☾

Chestnuts Roasting - A Holiday Special ✺☾

Menage A Quatre ☾ (Jake/Josh/Sam/Reader)

Excuses ☾ (Jake/Reader/Danny)

Shake Your Foundations ☾ (Jake/Reader/Josh)

Bound ☾ ( Jake/Chris/Reader) - Coming Soon

Shake Your Foundations Part II ☾ - Coming Soon

[wrenwinchester]

So, I started writing this snippet back in December, and it started based on the whole “and when dad came home…” line from Dean in season five. Obviously. I’m not sure if this will be included in my actual fic, but my timeline is that this happens when Sam is 11, since I couldn’t find a canon age. This is unedited, though I did read through it the other day, and it’s definitely painting John in a harsh light.

I don’t know that this fits all characteristics of how I see them, but like I said it’s unedited and I’m gonna stop stalling and just let you read if you so choose. Happy 4th of July.

TW: child abuse, canon typical violence,

Word count: 4,330

Flagstaff

Sam 11, Millie 13, and Dean 15 (we don't have a canon age for when he ran off.)

"Why do you guys have to go this time? And why can't Dean and I come too?"

Dean's head snaps towards Sam before he looks at me. And I try to hide the worry in my face, and ignore the tension growing in my shoulders as I turn away from the bag I'm packing.

Sammy's voice isn't scared, he's frustrated. I don't blame him. I'm just as tired of this shit as he is.

"Dad told you why. He needs Dean to work on research for that other case, and Dean hates doing stuff by himself. Besides. It's a simple salt and burn, we'll be a week, tops." I smile at him, hoping it's reassuring as I reach up to ruffle his hair. When did I start having to reach up to the top of his head? At least he's still shorter than me. Even if only barely.

I shake my head. And Sam deflates, going to mope in the other room. Fucking preteens, man. Goddamn. I give Dean a look of sympathy. I know he'd rather be the one going on this hunt, hell, I'd rather stay here with Sam.  At least then I'd only have to worry about one brother.

"Mills, if you don't finish packing, Dad is going to be pissed when he gets back." I nod, Dean's eyes promising me they'd be okay.

The door opens, and despite everything I tell myself, my body freezes.

"You ready to go?" Dad's voice is gruff, and I flinch as the door slams behind him. Sam comes back into the main room, ready to fight before Dean gives him a look.

I nod stiffly, not trusting myself. Unlike either of my brothers, I know what this hunt is actually about. And it's not just another hunt, but God do I wish it was.

Dad is using me as bait.

He's using me as bait, and I can't fucking tell my brothers.

"Sam, you'll be fine. Just listen to Dee, and stay out of trouble." I smile at him, reassuringly. He just nods sadly.

"Sam." Dad's voice is harsh as he says the name, and Dean and I both ready to jump in if necessary. "Stop throwing a fit over every little detail." The quiet that sweeps over the room is thick. "If you needed to be on this hunt, you would be." Sam flinches at the words, and I just want to stay and hold him.

But I can't.

Dad has already left the room, so I have to trail behind him.

I glance between my brothers before I walk out the door. Dean can handle Sammy. He always has.

...

Unsurprisingly, the hunt took longer than a week. Hell, it took almost a month, Dad ran me ragged, keeping me up late in the night figuring out what it was, because it sure as hell wasn't a ghost. (I'm still not sure what it was.) Dean had called at some point, but we were busy, and Dad yelled at me for trying to answer it. That was a week ago. I haven't heard from either of my brothers since, but frankly it was weirder that we'd gotten a call from Dean at all.

It had me worried.

But now we're on our way back to the motel where we left the boys at.

"Millicent, stop bouncing." Dad's voice is harsh, and I force my legs to hold still.

My finger starts tapping. "What was that thing, Dad?" I ask trying to distract myself from everything that could have gone wrong with my brothers.

"An Okami, they're rare in the states, 'cording to Bobby, but it stayed down, so guess we did something right." He's demeanor is so calm. It pisses me off, how can he not even be concerned about the lack of communication from Sam and Dean. I rub the bandage on my arm nervously, at least I'll see them soon.

"Interesting, why do you think there's one here now?" At least if he's talking I can pretend to be focused on that.

"No idea kiddo, but it's gone now." He reaches over to ruffle my hair, and I let him, if only because I don't want his mood to sour. "Get some rest, we've still got a couple hours 'til we're back with your brothers.

I nod and turn towards the window, watching as the sun sets and stars come out. Wishing more than anything that we were with my brothers right now.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after, because the car is now pulling into the motel parking lot.

Before Dad even has the car in park, I jump out of passenger seat, ignoring the cut in my side as it pulls from the movement.

Dad shakes his head in amusement, as I rush to the door, knowing I'll have to wait at least 5 minutes for him to get our bags and get over here with the key, but I'm too impatient.

Thankfully, I don't have to wait that long, I don't even have to do the knock. Dean opens the door, and within a second, I've wrapped my arms around his neck, and out of sheer habit, he lifts me up to swing me around.

I wince despite wanting to enjoy this rare show of affection, and Dean quickly sets me down on the sidewalk.

"Are you okay?" He asks, worry in his eyes.

I nod, "yeah, just a small cut. I'm fine." I don't mention the stitches dad had to put in, or the cut on my arm, as I check Dean over. Usually when Dad takes just Sam or I on a hunt or to practice, Dean seems healthier, at least more rested.

Dean's only response is to nod back, before turning his attention to Dad.

"Dad?" He calls out, his voice small and scared. I started to worry. Dad had looked up from the trunk of the impala, and I didn't like the look in his eye. I went into the hotel room, I didn't need to be out there, for this conversation, and I'd missed Sam too.

I checked all the rooms for Sam, but I couldn't find him. Dean wouldn't have let Sam go off on his own. I glance back towards the door as the realization dawns on me.

Sam is gone, and Dean is telling Dad right now.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Not two seconds later, Dad is storming into the motel room, Dean following behind earnestly.

"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET HIM GO OFF ON HIS OWN?" His voice is harsh, and once the door is closed, my heart starts beating fast. I try to step in between them, but Dad pushes me out of the way on to the floor. My heart is beating faster, and panic is setting in as I watch, disoriented from the floor.

Dad's hand is... it's wrapped around Dean's throat. De.. Dean is struggling to breathe, I can see it in his face. I try to stand up, dizzy and disoriented, I probably have a concussion now, but that's every other week at this point.

"Dad. Dad!" I rush across the room, throwing myself on Dad's arm, trying to get in-between. "Dad! You're going to kill him!" My voice is harsh, I've never been more scared. As I'm pulling on his arm to get him to set Dean down, I look in his eyes.

"Dad, please!" I'm pleading with him now, but I'd do anything to get him to stop. When he finally looks at me. He lets go of Dean, who then falls to the floor. He brings up his hand, slapping me across the face.

"He lost your brother! The Hell am I supposed to do?" He quickly turns back to Dean, moving on to wailing on him, not hard enough where people would see the bruises when Dean went back to school, but still. My heart breaks more than it ever has.

"Dad! It's not his fault!" I just wanted it all to stop, and he just hits me once in the stomach, hard enough to put me out of commission for a while.

"Enough!" Dean's also out of commission for at least a week, but Dad walks out of the motel. I don't really care where he's going, I'm just glad that he's gone for a while, and assume he's going to look for Sam, or to a bar. Probably a bar.

I crawl over to Dean.

"Dee?" My voice is strained, and I'm pretty sure I have a broken rib or two, and the cut on my side is definitely reopened.

"Are you okay, Millie?" his voice is hoarse, and I can't believe that he is asking if I'm okay, when Dad almost killed him.

"ME? What about you?" I let out a dry chuckle, "Dad almost killed you."

I'll be fine, it's nothing that hasn't happened before." He looks away from me as he says it, his voice barely above a whisper, not to mention the fact he all but lost it from Dad choking him.

My eyes soften, as my heart breaks into smaller pieces. "I knew about the hitting, that's nothing new, but he's choked you out before?" tears start welling in my eyes, and I don't mention the ones I see in his. He just nods. "Oh, Dee." I try to lean against his shoulder, but wince as the cut pulls, reminding me of reality.

"You sure you're okay Millie?" Dean asks, more like coughs.

I try to nod reassuringly, but the sting in my side has gotten worse, and my hand reaches up to grab it. "Shit." Frankly, we should both be going to the hospital, but we both know that's going to happen, and it's not even really an option.

Dean glances down to where my hand is gripping my side, and his eyes widen as he sees the blood starting to show through my shirt. Double shit.

I try to move, but I can't, it just makes it worse.

"Shit. Millie. What the hell?" Dean asks, he struggles to stand, but once he's up, he carefully lifts me up.

"Dean. Put me down. I'm fine." I try to push away from him, but everything in me wants to just close my eyes.

"No, you're not." He sets me on the bed. "Let me see it." It's not a request, but I roll my eyes, trying not to pass out as I do.

"Dean, I walked a mile out of the woods with this, then rode in the car for half an hour before Dad put the stitches in. I'll be fine for a few minutes." I hadn't meant to tell him what happened, especially not how long I'd been bleeding for, but nonetheless, it came out. Stupid delirium.

He looks at me in shock as I continue, "I mean, I didn't have a double concussion, or a broken rib, but still."

"Fuck, Millicent, what the fuck." He stares at me a second more before turning to my wound. Finally, I let him pull my shirt up to look at it. I hadn't checked it since last night, but it was fine. "Shit, Millie." he looked up at my face. I tried to ignore the rasp in his voice, it just made me angrier at Dad, and the last thing I needed was an increase in blood pressure. "I'm going to have to restitch this, and it's going to hurt like hell. Do you know which side the broken rib is? Can you tell?"

"Y-yeah," I sound breathless, and it's hard to breath. I remind myself it's nothing new, and it's not the first time I've had broken ribs. "At least one on both sides. I-I think."

"Motherfucker." Dean sighs. He shouldn't be the one doing this, but there's no one else I would really let. The only reason I let Dad was because I was too far from Dean, and I couldn't do it myself. "Okay, stay awake. I'm going to grab the first aid kit. Can you tell me what happened on the hunt? Or do you want me to tell you a story?"

He got up as he was talking, and I started to panic. "Y-you." my breathing is labored, and I think I'm in shock a little, because the reality of what just happened is just now hitting me. I shake my head. "Tell.. tell me why Sam took off, an-- and when." I say, trying to control my breathing.

When Dean comes back with the kit, he has me lay down on my left side, the side without the cut. I focus solely on Dean's voice as he talks, watching his hands move rhythmically as he sews up the cut in my side. The next few weeks are going to suck ass.

Dean tells me about a small fight he and Sam got in after Dad and I had been gone longer than a week. I nod in understanding, followed by a wince as he pulls my skin together with the floss. It wasn't the first time Sam lashed out when a hunt didn't go as planned.

Dean continues, saying Sam seemed to calm down after that, and it wasn't until a little over a week ago that Sam ran off. That's when he called. He tried to find him for a couple days before he called, but Sam never came back, and he couldn't find him.

"It's probably the most stress I've ever felt, until you guys came home, and I had to tell Dad." his voice feels distant, farther away than it should, and I can't tell if it's because I'm falling asleep, or if his voice is just that far gone.

Not long after that, he has me sit up. "This is going to suck worse, but if you're right, and you do have broken ribs, we have to wrap them." I sigh, wincing as I do, before nodding.

After I'm all patched up, and I can breathe again, I check Dean over for any open wounds, or anything, but there's nothing to patch up.

"I told you, I'm fine. You need to rest." He gets me to lay back down about an hour after he was done fixing me.

"We need to find Sam." I'm pacing now, grateful for my older brother who always watches out for me, but in this moment, I'm focusing on the fact that Sam has been missing for over a week. "Did you check the library? or the I don't know, is the county fair happening?" I ask, I know it's around that time of year, and Dean just nods.

"We're not going to find him in the next few hours, and we both are going to collapse if we don't get some rest. Come on." He practically pulls me to one of the two beds, and I reluctantly follow. He tucks me in, humming "Hey Jude" like Mom used to do before moving to sleep on the other bed.

"Where are you going?" I ask confused, it's almost never a question on whether or not he and I share a bed, hell we still occasionally all three share a bed.

"Millie Wren, you have at least two broken ribs, and a hole in your side," he sounds flabbergasted as he says it, "I'm not risking hurting you in our sleep."

"Dee, please. You know I don't sleep without sharing a bed with someone." That gets him, and he rolls his eyes.

"Dammit Wren, It's not my fault if you get hurt." I smile because for once he actually sounds like a brother, so I just nod in agreement.

A few minutes later, with the lights off, and both of us comfortable in the bed, Dean says, "are you still awake?" I turn my head to face him.

"It's only been five minutes, of course I'm awake." I tease, but even in the dark, I can see the seriousness of the conversation he wants to have.

"We can't tell Sam what Dad did when he found out. It was my job to protect him and I failed, it makes sense, and you know that getting in between makes things worse, it was bound to happen. It makes complete sense why Dad did what he did. He's scared of losing us like we lost Mom." I nod in agreement.

"You're right. Dad's reasons make sense, and We need to protect Sam." He nods and we both turn to look up at the ceiling instead. It's one of those popcorn ceilings, the textured ones. "You know I'm always going to step in right?" I ask him after a minute, and I feel his eyes turn to me as I talk. "You're not the only one instructed to protect their siblings, and that includes you. Besides, I can handle the yelling, the beating, as long as it's directed at me. You and Sam... You guys are my weaknesses."

"I really wish you wouldn't, but I understand why you will." With that comment, the conversation ends as we both know we have an understanding.

The next morning comes quickly, and movement is quickly stifled by pain and stiffness throughout my body. As I sit up, I glance over towards Dean's side of the bed, he's still sleeping, understandably so. Yesterday was one of the rougher days we've had. I glanced over to the other bed, it was untouched, Dad hadn't been back. I just hoped he was looking for Sammy rather than sitting passed out in a bar somewhere.

I slowly move towards the bathroom, the last time I'd been was like 18 hours ago. My mind wanders to Sam, what he's doing right now, if he's safe or not, and what Dad's reaction is going to be when he finds him. I shudder at the last thought before I remember that despite his loud opposition of Dad's orders, he is the golden child.

It takes me a while in the bathroom, literally every muscle in my body aches, I carefully lift up my shirt after I wash my hands, and I see the huge bruise on my left side and back from where Dad threw me on the floor. I sigh.

By the time I slowly walk out of the bathroom Dean is up, and we are ready to go look for Sam.

A couple more days pass by before Dad finally comes back, without Sam. Shit.

He's calmer now, and I can't smell any alcohol, but that doesn't mean he hasn't been drinking. Dean and I are walking on eggshells around him, not knowing what might set him off.

When Dad passes out around 2 that afternoon, a thought occurs to me. "Hey, Dean?" I whisper to avoid waking Dad up. He looks up from the news paper where he is reading for any approximately 11 year old John Does that might have turned up in the past couple weeks, there's nothing. "Isn't Flagstaff around here?" I ask, as an idea forms in my head that I can't believe we didn't think of sooner.

His eyes light up as realization dawns on his face. "Shit, Yeah it is." He looks like his brain is moving a thousand miles a minute. "Holy Fuck, I can't believe we never looked there." He doesn't have to worry about whispering, because even though his voice is mostly back, it's still pretty raspy.

"We have to wake Dad up." I say, anxiety coating my words. "It's the only place that makes sense, and you can't drive the car by yourself.

"Dammit, I hate that you're right." His voice is weary, but somehow less raspy.

"We could wait until he wakes up on his own?" I offer, but we both know it's a bad idea. We'd likely get another beating for waiting to go get Sam from whatever trouble he got himself into. Dean just looks at me. "I know. I know."

"Go to the other room, Millie, I'll wake him up." Dean says, courage building in his voice, but I can hear the fear he's trying to hide.

"No, we're doing this together. I'm not letting you take the heat for this by yourself." I sound a lot more confident than I feel, but Dean doesn't push. Very carefully we wake him up.

Neither one of us gets yelled at, a welcome surprise, instead, he makes both of us get in the car as he drives to Flagstaff. The car is silent the whole ride.

When we get there, Dad instructs Dean and I to stay in the car. We obey. We've gotten whooped enough times this week, we weren't about to open the door to another one.

Dad goes in to a diner in town to check with locals about whether or not they've seen Sam. Dean and I diligently stay put, the silence in the car beginning to get overbearing. Dad talks inside the diner for a good half an hour or more, and just when Dean and I give each other a look considering disobeying orders, I see Sam.

"Dee..." I start.

"Millie, you heard what Dad said--" he started.

"No, Dean, look. It's Sam." I point out his window, and within a second, both of us are jumping out of the car, broken ribs and all, though at this point the cut is mostly healed.

"SAM!" Dean yells across the street. Sammy turns to face us, shock and wonder crossing his face.

"DEE!" he yells, before he sees me behind him. "MILLIE, YOU'RE BACK!!" I smile at him as relief settles over me, at least he's okay. Sam quickly looks both ways before making his way over to Dean and I. Despite his frustration, I can see Dean's relief in the slump of his shoulders and everything about how he's holding himself.

"I swear to God, Sammy, if you ever, and I mean EVER, do something like this again, I'm gonna throttle you myself," Dean says before giving him another hug. Sam knows nothing but empty threats like this, and I know that is all it is.

I hug both my brothers. "If either of you ever disappear on me again, I'm going to beat your asses." I say, before allowing Dean to guide us back to the car.

"Bitches." Dean says, pointing his word at both of us.

"Assholes."

"Fu-" Sam starts, but Dean and I both stare at him, he just rolls his eyes. "Jerks." I smile at the normalcy of just the three of us, until I remember one of us has to go get Dad.

Dean and I shove Sam into the car, not meanly, just making sure he's not going to slip away again before Dean says, "I'll go get Dad." I just shake my head.

"No way, I'll get him, he'll be softer on me, I'll be fine." Dean starts to object, but I cut him off, "Dean, you've taken the brunt of it this week, let me do this, and one of us needs to keep an eye on Sam." Reluctantly, Dean concedes. It's not like Dad is going to beat us in public, and then Sam will be back, so he'll be in a better mood.

Dean gets in the car next to Sammy, and I turn around sighing, it'll be fine. He's not gonna do anything that might cause suspicion from locals. I force myself to relax, before I walk into the diner after my dad.

It looks the same as most other diners I've been in across the country, a row of booths, a row of tables, and the counter. I glance around the room for Dad. I know he's in here somewhere, he has to be.

As I'm scanning the room for the third time, I finally see him, he's hunched over the counter a coffee in his hands as he's just sitting there. Sam's missing and he's sitting there.

Okay, well, Sam's not missing anymore, but he doesn't know that. I shove my anger down, I have to hold the family together, so I cautiously walk to where he's seated halfway across the diner.

"Dad," my voice sounds small, and I watch him fight the urge to snap at me for disobeying.

"Millie," his voice is strained. "I thought I told you to wait in the car?" It's not a question, he's giving me an out. Do other thirteen year olds think about this stuff, are they this cautious around their dads?

"Yes, sir, but Sam came back." I just blurt it out before he can cut me off, before the anger he's so good at pushing down boils over.

A weight seems to lift off of Dad's shoulders. Perhaps relief, perhaps he's no longer grieving his youngest child, perhaps he's just glad he's not in danger or hurt, or dead. "Good. Go wait in the car, I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Yes sir," I nod, turning around (practically in a perfect military style about face, but that's irrelevant). I go back out to the car, and join my brothers in the back seat of the Impala.

"Everything okay, Millie?" Dean asks, the worry lacing his tone only so much that I could tell, but Sam couldn't. Years of training our expressions taught us that one.

"Yeah, he says he'll be out in a few minutes." Dean nods, and we continue to sit in silence.

"Is Dad mad at me?" Sam asks, and my heart breaks. It's not something he should have to worry about. Ever. "I know I shouldn't have run off, I was just so frustrated."

Dean and I share a look before he looks back at Sam, "Dad could never be mad at you, you just scared him. You can't run off without telling anyone, okay?"

"Okay, Dee."

[mooniety]

the hc that susie & bandana dee have this parent-child dynamic will never die in my heart, i imagine that ever since they met for the kirby battle royale trailer they've just had this sort of friendship

like i imagine susie would cut & peel him apple slices, pack him lunch with all his favorite foods, provide him spare change in case of an emergency, celebrate his successes no matter the size, excessively worry about whether he's wearing enough/had enough sleep/eating well, or provide him guidance if he's struggling with something --generally things that are similar to how a parent would care for their child (this is from the perspective of someone from an east asian cultural context where some of these actions that appear odd are very conventional ways of displaying affection from parents)

it's cute & she does these things because she can see a lot of herself in bandana dee (the girlfailure) & wants him to have the opportunity for, if not a normal, then at least a happy & safe(r) childhood unlike the one she got

god forbid she watch him fight some newly arisen ancient godly entity with kirby the third time today.

[elegantmusicdragon]

Adventures in Bravo-Sitting

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Babysitter!Reader (f!Reader probably? Can be gn!Reader for now)

Rating/Warning: Just some language! Words that rhyme with certain swears. Me being a menace. You know how it goes.

A/N: Okay so this is for @blueeyesatnight who just went a on a Dieter/Babysitter journey with me and inspired me to crank this fic out in two days. Haven't written a fucking thing except a fic I won't post and THIS. Blue, you're the best and Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas (if you celebrate) and thank you so much for the inspo! Our Dieter/Babysitter thread is my favorite thing and also if you wanna write some of these two or your own version PLEASE DO IT. I encourage it! Much love to you.

To anyone else who may read this: thanks for sticking around and checking this not beta'd dumpster fire. I have no clue what this is. It came out of my brain and onto the page in a frenzy. But it's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

You are terribly confused. 

"We know this is highly unconventional." 

Well, that's putting it mildly. 

"In all honesty, I've seen weirder." A nightmare child smearing his feces all over the baking appliances and a cake his mother had made takes the trophy as of now. Though this situation is a close second. 

The woman, Amanda, smiles at you - relief flooding her features. She readjusts herself on the ridiculously fancy chair she's sitting on. Behind her, a small cluster of people in suits and business skirts gather. And between Amanda and the group? A man. Well, not man. Celebrity. A celebrity who seems to be grumbling something close to the words “ducking shooshes”.  

You never thought you'd end up babysitting Dieter Bravo but, you guess, things could be weirder. 

"Can I just...ask...um...why does a grown man need a babysitter?"

Dieter rolls his eyes and cuts in, "I don't." 

Amanda talks over him, "I'm sure you've seen the...incidents...on the Cliff Beasts set." 

You nod. "Absolutely, who hasn't? A drug overdose, quickie marriage, annulment - all within the span of a year. And the giant bender in Vegas with the showgirl last month? It's been all over the news." 

Amanda nods, tension lining her face. Behind her, Dieter rolls his eyes again. 

"It wasn't that bad." 

Amanda finally graces Dieter with an irritated glance. Her voice raises slightly, “Not that bad, Dee?? You almost destroyed the MGM Grand’s lobby, casino, and the penthouse suite you were staying in! That showgirl almost lost an eye!” 

Dieter rolls his neck back to face the ceiling, “Yeah, but she didn’t. She was fun,” he chuckles. “Liked to party. We still got her number?”

You see a vein throb in Amanda’s forehead. You’re not quite sure if you should butt into their conversation. Amanda grips the planner she holds so tightly, her knuckles begin to turn white. 

“No, Dee. We don’t have her number. You know, since she ALMOST LOST AN EYE??” 

Dieter sighs. “Oh my god, she was fine. It was safe. I was totally able to handle that machete. That lobby guy was just scared.” 

You raise an eyebrow. 

Amanda fires back, “He was the manager!!! And you were swinging a machete at one of his showgirls!” 

“I wasn’t gonna hurt her, god it’s like you think I’m irresponsible or something.” 

Oh god what have you gotten yourself into???

You reach down and attempt to subtly get your belongings. You’ve decided you want no part in…whatever this is. To your utter disappointment, you’re apparently not subtle enough. Amanda’s eyes dart to where your hand is resting on the strap of your bag. Her eyes widen just a fraction in desperation. 

“I know we’re not giving the best impression here. But I promise, this is going to be a very rewarding experience. Dieter is special!” 

She had said that on the phone too, but it was your fault you had misinterpreted it. Dieter clearly is special just…not in the way you were expecting. He’s special in a super-fuckin-entitled-wealthy way. 

You swallow and your eyes dart to Dieter, who hasn’t looked at you once since this whole meet and greet started. 

“Listen, Amanda, I’m really flattered that you and your…” You peter off, realizing the entire group of people behind her are now listening to you basically say no to this insane job. Are they really surprised you’re not interested in this? 

You clear your throat and continue, “team…want me to do this. I just don’t quite think I’m what you’re looking for.” 

Amanda looks behind her at a gentleman in a neatly pressed suit. He leans forward and whispers something in her ear. She nods, and turns back to you. Dieter remains absorbed in the ceiling. 

“Alright,” Amanda starts, “how about I show you what your pay would look like and we’ll take it from there? Maybe we could do a trial run if the amount is to your liking?” 

Dieter snorts. “It’ll be to her liking, I’m loaded.” 

Amanda rolls her eyes. Despite that, she keeps her focus on you. “Well?” She asks. 

You sigh. You know you’re caught between a rock and hard place. Money? Or no money? Well, even if this job isn’t what you necessarily thought it would be, it couldn’t hurt to look at the amount. Why the hell not? 

You shrug. “Sure,” you reply back to Amanda. “I guess looking at the number can’t hurt.” 

She smiles and nods, turning to confer with the gentleman behind her again. They whisper to each other for a few minutes before Amanda turns back to you. 

“Okay! I just want to clarify that we’ll be starting with a trial run of a week. If just you, or both you and Dieter-” 

He snorts at his name. Amanda studiously ignores him and continues on. 

“Are interested in keeping this arrangement going, we’ll re-discuss and go from there. Is that amenable to you?”

You nod. “Sounds good to me.” 

Amanda smiles widely, looking truly relieved for the first time since you stepped into the room. 

“Great!” She replies. She reaches behind her to grab a small piece of paper from the suited gentleman (who is he???) and hands it over to you. You surreptitiously glance over at Dieter. For the first time, you find his eyes on you. You shiver slightly. His eyes sparkle with…something. 

You look back down at the folded piece of paper in your hands. You’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. You open it slightly and see the number written down.

WOW that’s a LOT of zeroes! Holy crap. 

You look at Amanda.

“Trial run it is.” 

P.S. Banners by @firefly-graphics

Tags:

@grampsgirl14

@apsiringghostmusicians

Anyone else want a tag? Lemme know!

[starsstuddedsky]

Lingering

reader x seokmin

summary: sunrise at the beach with a crush

genre: fluff this is just self-indulgent fluff

warnings: none!

wc: 1k

a/n: while looking up references of his smile i nearly died

The sun hides just under the horizon, the world holding its breath while waiting for the warmth to return. You study the sky, the twinkling stars that are too far away to survive the sun, going into hiding until the next night. But for now, you can still pick them out, see the ghost of constellations you knew when you were still a child. 

The sand digs between your toes, cold and grainy without the sun to warm them. You like watching the waves roll and crash in the half-light of dawn, the thundering crashes of water breaking on the beach mesmerizing. No matter how many times you sit here, it’s magical. Something about the calming power of extreme violence. 

A voice calls to you, inaudible over the waves, though it still makes you jump. When you turn around, Seokmin is crossing the beach toward you. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” He repeats, close enough this time to be heard over the crashing waves. He stands over you, hands on his hips. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” You counter. 

He shrugs. “I heard someone wandering around at five in the morning, so I was making sure we weren’t being robbed. Then I figured I should make sure no one was sleep-walking into the ocean.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t go getting an inflated ego; I’d do this for anyone.” 

“Really? You’d sneak out at dawn for Seungkwan?” 

Seokmin pauses. “Fine, it is special treatment. You only.” 

It’s silly to get this happy over an answer you forced out of him, but it’s fun to pretend you’re special to him. That’s the worst part about having a crush on your friend. It’s not hunting for feelings when none exist, but knowing exactly how desperate you are. Like how your heart races when he sits next to you, kicking his sandals off and burying his feet in the sand to match you. 

“Oh my god, it’s so cold,” he says, shaking his shoulders to emphasize his point. You shake your head, and pretend like you aren’t hyper-aware of his sweatshirt brushing against yours. He’s quiet with you, a rare quality for Seokmin. You’re used to hearing him joke around with Seungkwan and Mingyu, or do everything he can to annoy Minghao. He’s a friend of a friend that’s turned you into a cliché. God, you can’t even think straight around him. 

“You never answered my question,” he says, staring out across the water. The tiny line where the water ends and the sky begins is starting to grow more definite, the sky above just a shade lighter. “You don’t have to,” he quickly adds, “I know we’re not really that close, well, not yet. I’m not saying that we have to be either, I just mean that—” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I’m saying I’m here. If you want.” And he smiles. 

A thousand metaphors run through your head, each more cliché than the last, but his smile really is brighter than the sun, warming you from the inside out. You want to tell him… you don’t know what, anything that keeps him smiling at you like that. 

“I like your smile.” You cover your mouth as soon as you say it but Seokmin laughs, smile widening even more. With every heartbeat, his face becomes more clear, the rising sun growing more courageous with each inch. 

“Thank you,” Seokmin says, though he can’t quite look you in the eye. Great, you’ve made it awkward. What can you say to fix this? Taking it back feels even more awkward, and even though it was painful, at least it was true. 

You bury your head in your arms. Maybe he’ll just leave and eventually the tide will rise and wash you away. You could turn into a mermaid, or maybe a jellyfish. You try to remember what you know about jellyfish. They have no brains and no muscles so they just float around the ocean; they have one hole for food to go in and out of; they have tentacles that sting. That could be cool, to be a sting-y jellyfish. Or maybe one of the glowy ones in the deep sea, bioluminescent. 

“You know, I like your smile too,” Seokmin says. You don’t dare lift your head. 

“It’s really cute,” he continues, “like, you always at least smile at my jokes, even when they’re really bad. You never make fun of me with the rest of the guys, and you made a cake for my birthday even though we barely knew each other.” He pauses again, taking a deep breath. All you hear is the crashing of waves on the shore. “What I’m trying to say is I like you. More than a friend.” 

He likes you.

You try to find your brain but you’ve already started to become a jellyfish. There’s nothing in your head except he likes you. 

“Hey,” he taps your shoulder gently. “Can you lift your head?” 

“Nope.” You shake your head, just in case he can’t hear you. 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s five in the morning and my hair is a mess and I think it’s been way too long since I brushed my teeth and I’m covered in sand, and I like you so much I’m a jellyfish.” You pull your knees in even tighter, determined to remain in this ball of safety. 

“You’re missing the sunrise,” Seokmin says. 

You peek out, blinking at the horizon. Everything is pink and blue, from the sky to the water. The water farther out is as bright as the sky itself but the waves that crash against the shore are white. It’s the beautiful scene that you snuck out for. 

“Beautiful,” you whisper. 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Seokmin says but when you turn to face him, he isn’t looking at the sunrise. He’s looking at you. 

He’s still smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “That was cheesy, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “It was terrible.” You press your shoulder against his, and you don’t think you’re imagining the warmth seeping from him. “I still like you.” 

“I like you, too,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Even as… a jellyfish?” 

You groan. “I panicked! I’m still panicking, I wasn’t expecting you to just blurt out that you like me!” 

Seokmin just laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. You bury your face again, but this time against his chest, and it’s infinitely better than before. You listen to his heartbeat and you understand the stars in the sky, lingering in a moment that won’t last forever. 

Just one more heartbeat. You watch the sunrise and smile. 

[vikkirosko]

I saw that your request are open(unless it wasn't updated in a while). I saw your platonic abandoned child fic with the metal family, and I was wondering if you could do a continuation of that. Like where the reader spends time with the family, and they enjoy the readers' company. If not, then just ignore this.(Also, if my request didn't follow any guidelines of yours, please tell me. This is my first request!) Thank you! :)

Hi! Your request does not violate the rules and I am happy to make it. If you decide to send me more requests in the future and you have any doubts, then you can read the rules linked to in the pinned post, or write to me in private messages. Have a nice day and take care of yourself!

Family x child!Reader platonic headcanons Spending time together

Your stay with the family has become something ordinary. The official part of the procedure was already over and according to the documents you were part of their family, but for them you became one much earlier. You were still quite young, so you spent most of your time at home with someone from your new family, but you seemed to really enjoy spending time with them. You were a quiet and calm child, and you caused quite a few problems. But even if that wasn't the case, they wouldn't have given up on you or stopped treating you like part of their family

Glam was the one who was responsible for your training. He was a strict teacher, but he never allowed himself to raise his voice at you or hurt you. He had learned from his own experience what it was like to be afraid of your own parent, and he didn't want you to go through something similar. So when he saw that you didn't understand what he was explaining to you, he tried to be as patient as possible. Vicky sometimes took you to the workshop and showed you her work. She told you not to touch anything without her, realizing that you were still too young to study mechanics, but looking at how your eyes shone with curiosity and delight, she couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. Maybe when you got older, she could teach you how to fix motorcycles, and maybe how to ride a motorcycle

Dee and Heavy were big brothers to you, and they both worried about you. Every time they stayed at home and looked after you, Heavy would make you laugh and play with you, and when you were sitting with Dee, he would read you some of his books, skipping those moments that might not be suitable for you because of your young age. Sometimes Heavy was overly worried when in fact there was no real reason to worry about you, and his older brother calmed him down, but when the situation was really worrying, for example when you had a fever, Dee was really worried but tried to keep his cool, because there must be at least one of the brothers, who will think with their heads and try to rationally approach the solution of the problem until the parents return home

When your new family got together, you seemed to be especially happy. You were really happy to spend time with them. When they had a card game night, you sat with them, even though you didn't play cards yourself, you didn't even know how to play. Chive, who visited them, always brought you small gifts as the youngest child, and you became attached to him as if he were your own uncle. Most likely, just as you considered Glam and Vicky to be your parents, and Dee and Heavy to be your brothers, so you really considered Chive to be your uncle. When you were a kid, you didn't think about what was wrong

Sometimes they worried that your blood relatives would show up to pick you up, but they weren't going to let that happen. You were part of their family, and they weren't going to let those who had already abandoned you once take you away. You were part of their family, and nothing could change that anymore

[xviistrings]

hello . it's me. the girl who loves imagining a toxic parent+child relationship being not toxic. so abijah fowler

he's not mizu's dad. i don't think. he doesn't have blue eyes and nothing either of them say in their big confrontation in the season finale allude to him being her real father

but. and hear me out

just. just what if he was like a father figure WAUGH

albeit probably the worst candidate for fatherhood seeing as he's a mass-murdering, sadistic, twisted motherfucker but i mean. he doesn't kill spiders at least

i wish i could post cool gifs like the rest of the people here but unfortunately i don't know how. but we've all watched the show and we knowwwwww that one scene where he talks to the jesus statue about his plans to kill the shogun and blah blah blah-dee-blah

and.. he doesn't crush the spider in his hand, but gently keeps it in his fist. and he lets go of it at the end of the scene. because maybe he's a little MORE than a mass-murdering sadistic twisted motherfucker. maybe hes. yknow. human

kind of like how multiple times throughout the show they demonstrate that mizu is not the tough and scary killer she pretends to be, but is in fact......... a traumatized and angry child who grew up too fast and is now totally fucked up and emotionally underdeveloped. emphasis on traumatized and child

and the way he walked past that room before backing up is the exact same thing mizu did in the first episode. btw. aack

alsoooo! we got that bit of his backstory where he's talking about how he had to eat his sister or something i don't remember. my point is that back in europe, his homeland was being invaded by the british and his whole family was slaughtered. because they werent british.

losing your family. being attacked. by a majority. for having a different, "lesser" heritage. sounds familiar to a certain.......... other character.........

i know he's going to play a bigger role in s2 and i know there's absolutely no way the writers are going to frame this as a happy wholesome father and daughter because it sure as hell IS NOT. but ohhhhhh i want to see them bond and relate to each other in a weird emotionally constipated way. it's my favourite thing ever

idk im banging my head against a keyboard and hoping this makes sense . DJ daddy issues out

[hopusthebrainlessfloof]

A fanfic based on @thekoopalingsandstuffs blog! Specifically, a non-canon event where KAS canon Dieter meets an alternate version where Kaley and Beef put him up for adoption.

TW: Use of the f-slur, forshadowing of death, mention of child abandonment

The Difference Between Us

They stared at each other, their identical eyes locking through the barrier of their identical shades. Identical bandanas, identical ties, identical names... It was like looking into a mirror. A twisted mirror. They were the evil versions of one another, a selfish pervert and a faggot pansy. The latter's mind was preoccupied with an upcoming football game that weekend. The former was mentally reciting his plan for Theresa to finally "open up" to him with force. The chatter of the other patrons of Applebuzzys filled the air, but were soon muffled by the deafening silence that overcame them. Neither had spoken a word to the other. They didn't know what to say.

"I don't feel like sharing a name with a wannabe, so... I'mma call you Dee." The other bit his lip. Fine. Dieter and Dee. "So Dee," Dieter sneered as he bit into a boneless wing, not even stopping to finish chewing before resuming his thought. "Ya heard of this cute girl named Theresa?"

Cringing at the brute's lack of basic table manners, he took an awkward sip of his drink. "I know someone who used to be Theresa. He goes by Spewart now. We now live near each other after being apart for a long time." Dieter grimaced. "Yer one of them queers, arentcha?" He stared back at the former with contempt. "Whaddaya mean by that?" Dieter scoffed.

"Thinking you can change your gender and stuff. You believe in that faggot stuff?"

Hearing the slur made his blood boil. The differences between him and his doppelganger were becoming more evident. Still, he decided to resume the conversation... Perhaps it would get better as they went on? "I just do what makes him happy. Wouldn't do that for your... Partner-friend?" Dieter gave a loud sigh. "When I'm with my girlfriend, we have a good time. Don't stop to think if I'm happy, cause I already am."

Oh great, he talks in circles too, he thought to himself. "So uh... What kind of dates do you and... "Theresa" go on?"

"Glad you asked!" Dieter beamed, though it looked like a sinister smirk. Guess he always looked like an evil bastard. "We do everything... Go to games, go to watch movies, go out to eat... The only thing we don't do yet is sweet lovemaking, but I'll get her to do that soon."

The only word he could think of was "gross". The way he thought of his girlfriend, assuming his Spewart didn't discover he was Spewart yet, as an accessory and not a person... Whatever events led him to not be like Dieter, he thanked the gods for. "How are you able to pay for all that? Do you work, or something?"

"Uh, no, my parents pay for it. Why would I work?" Because I do so I can pay for my dates. He obviously didn't say that, not wanting to argue with a brick wall. Or worse, a conservative. "Just asking..." Dieter stuck up his nose, if he had a nose. "My parents give me anything I want. They're like, the best." "I can tell." He took a sip of the iced drink to cool off a bit, just talking to Dieter was making his blood boil.

The waiter came by to hand them their entrées. "What about yours? Are they as cool as mine?" He hesitated and cleared his mouth. "My dad is cool, I'd say." "What bout your mom?" "I don't have one." "What??" Dieter was so taken aback, it seemed like he didn't know what a single parent was. "Where's you mom? Did she die or something?" He humbly smiled. "No. My birth parents put me up for adoption. I was eleven. It was the last time I saw Spewart before we met again in Darklands."

Dieter thought for a bit. "That means... You're an orphan? HA! Imagine being an orphan..." This was the final straw. He called the waiter over. "I'd like a to-go container and my half of the check, please." The waiter nodded and left.

"What- Hey, what the fuck? I thought you wanted me here to discuss how cool it is to be Dieter Fitness, or something!" Dieter threw his arms to the air. "Why are ya leaving so soon?" He placed his food in the containers and wrote the tip amount before handing the waiter the cash. "My uh... My head hurts. And I don't want to get you sick."

Dieter blinked. "I guess that's fair... It would be pretty pathetic to get sick, at a time like this." He politely nodded and took his food. "Nice meeting you." "You too, I guess. Seeya, orphan." He forced a smile and left. They would not see each other ever again, as Dieter would fall to a sharp and chilling fate just two days later.