#do you know how much rice ive eaten in my life??

[cloudcountry]

I just discovered your writing and I love how you write Idia! If requests are open, could you write Idia with an S/O that cooks for him? It's heavily implied that Idia has depression and is very thin do to his lack of self care and malnutrition, but since he started dating he gains some weight and gets a bit insecure about it but reader comforts him because they're just happy that's he's eating healthy

SUMMARY: idia is starting to eat healthier and put on weight, which spawns new insecurities. you help him through it.

COMMENTS: i'm so unhinged about this request please. PLEASE. do not look at me right now im in SHAMBLES. you've saved my life with his request. IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOREVER I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 45 MINUTES IM LOSING IT. THIS BAD BOY CAN FIT SO MUCH NON SEXUAL INTIMACY IN IT. CRYING.

In the beginning of your relationship, getting Idia to eat and drink was like pulling teeth. You didn’t want to force it—Idia knew how he felt far better than you, and making him do something he didn’t want to was just cruel. You knew from the start that if he didn’t want to eat, he wouldn’t, and even after consulting Ortho you didn’t notice any changes in his attitude towards eating. You reminded him to drink water constantly and brought him little snacks, but the water bottles remained mostly full and the snacks were unopened. While you managed to coax another few sips of water out of Idia, the snacks were still a no-go and his vitamin drinks won the day once again.

It took until the two of you were second years for him to consider eating more, and you were so delighted that you began to cook for him. Although he still gained most of his nutrients from those vitamin drinks he’d always drink in place of meals, you were so proud of him when he started eating the small portions you’d set out for him. Each container had four sections, one full of dried fruits, one with nuts, one with vegetables, and the last with meat. You always wrote him a note telling him how proud of him you were, encouraging him to eat the whole thing but letting him know he could stop eating whenever. It was more of a snack than anything, but he’d eaten it, the whole thing, and you felt so moved you’d almost cried.

Idia never thought it was that much a deal, even when you started gradually increasing his portion sizes into your third year at NRC, always replying to your praise with bashful mumbles and scoffs, twisting his beautiful hair into knots as a nervous habit. He would finish his snacks and bashfully ask for more, turning his pink cheeks away from you when you’d beam and tell him you’d be on it right away. Noodle dishes were popular, along with sweet chicken recipes, and anything with rice or pasta. You avoided using meats like pork or beef or anything that wasn’t light like poultry. Idia always favored things that went down easy, not hearty meals that left you feeling stuffed (and, of course, you never fed him sushi due to his dislike of raw fish.)

He was drinking more water as the years went on, too—by the time you came to collect his dishes and figure out if he wanted more food or not, you’d catch a glance of a half empty water bottle and feel your heart fluttering in your chest. It made you so happy to see him eating and drinking healthier. Even if he complained about needing to go pee more often (which took out of his gaming time, oh the dramatics) you could tell he felt better. It had been a journey of three years but you and him were making some serious progress together, and you couldn’t be more proud.

To celebrate just how proud of him you were, you’d gotten Idia a small chocolate cake to go with his lunch, and you were delivering it a bit early to surprise him.

Balancing all of the food on one hand, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you punch in the security code to his room (it changed every day and he always texted you the new one, reassuring you that your messages had been encrypted ten times over so nobody could even chip at the defenses, not that you were worried about someone hacking your phone in the first place.) The door opens with its usual mechanical woosh and shuts behind you the second you step inside, immediately locking again.

“Idia, I bought you a gift today!” you cheer, setting the containers down on his bed.

You turn around to face the rest of his room before stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with very wide eyed, shirtless Idia. He’s clutching his shirt to his chest, trying to hide as much of him as he possibly can, but the way the fat of his stomach pinches and rolls at his side could still be seen past the fabric. Your mouth forms a small o shape as you stare, taking him in.

“Stop staring!” he yells, and it's only then that you notice the tears in his eyes and the pink borderline red flickers in his flames, “Get out!”

He throws himself into the gamer chair, spinning it enough so that the back of it faces you. You can see him curling up into a little ball, struggling to get his shirt on in the state he’s in.

“Idia, wait!” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

Soft sniffles fill the room, and it breaks your heart.

“Why are you here early?” he snaps, still not coming out from his hiding place.

“I bought you a miniature cake. You’ve been eating more lately and I’m proud of you for that.” you say softly, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not going to come over there, darling. Don’t worry. This is a safe space, you know? I would never judge you.”

Idia is silent for a few beats before he speaks again.

“Maybe...maybe I should stop eating.” he murmurs, and the pain that shoots through your heart makes you gasp.

“Idia, no.” you plead, gentle even though you’re panicking, “What’s making you feel this way? You’ve been doing so well, you’ve told me how good you’ve been feeling this past year because you’re eating healthier, what changed?”

“I look like this!” he spits out, and there’s so much self loathing in his tone it brings tears to your eyes as well.

“You look beautiful, darling, you always have. What about yourself do you not like?” you plead, hoping and praying he’ll open himself up to you.

“I’ve gained weight. I’m not as skinny anymore. I look gross.” he peeks out from behind his chair and your heart breaks at how bloodshot his eyes are, “I don’t...want you to see me like this and leave me.”

“My love...” you keep his gaze, leaning as close as you can to him without leaving the bed, “I love you no matter what you look like, you know that right? I love you as a person. You will always, always look lovely to me. I love you. I don’t love a perfect version of you I made up in my head. Every single insecurity you have, I love, because they aren’t flaws. They’re just you.”

You let him take your words in, listening to his heavy breaths before you stand up.

“Darling...can I see you?” you ask carefully, “I want to see you.”

He hesitates.

“Promise me you won’t be disappointed.” Idia’s voice cracks mournfully, like he’s already accepted a fate that will never befall him.

“Never.” you answer immediately.

Your breath catches in your throat when he shamefully moves away from his gaming chair, staring at the ground to avoid looking at you. Your heart hits the ceiling with how light it feels, your lungs contracting and your body growing warm. Oh, he’s ethereal.

You take in the parts that he hates—the creases of his neck and his soft pecs (his nipples are blue, you note, and honestly that doesn’t surprise you), the rolls of his stomach and the fiery trial of hair that leads to his pelvis. You take in the blue glow under his arms and the way the fat of his upper arm folds into his shoulder, and his way his stomach hangs a little over the waistband of his pants. You take it how his arms are bigger now, whether that be from growth or the added weight you don’t know, but what you do know is that all of this beauty was hiding under his hoodie for the past three years. Probably even longer.

“You’re beautiful.”

And your voice breaks as a single hand covers your mouth, hearts in your eyes as you finally, finally make eye contact with Idia, his hair sparking and popping like solar flares as the flames turn pink.

You love that pink.

“B...Beautiful!?” Idia jerks back, looking so scared and ashamed and confused, “What are you talking about!? Beautiful is for men in otomes with eight pack abs, I’m no ikemen but I’m not stupid and how could you ever call me something like that—!?”

“Idia Shroud, you’re beautiful!” you shout, your voice far louder than you intended and it cracks again because oh, you’re so emotional, how could this man think he’s anything but beautiful?

“...what?” he whispers, shirt still clenched in his hands like a lifeline, “You...you don’t want to leave me?”

What you want to do is ask why you ever thought he’d leave you in the first place.

What you do instead, is tell him no.

And you stay.

You don’t make an excuse to leave or try to let him down slowly. You stay in his room and you ask to hug him, you stay in his room and you embrace him so tenderly when he says yes, you stay in his room with him and you kiss his temple, holding all of the extra fat he didn’t come with when you fell in love with him in your arms, loving him all the same even though he’s changed.

He doubts you’ve ever called someone beautiful as many times as you’re calling him that right now.

So Idia shuts his eyes and buries his face in your shoulder, hiding his face and his body and his sobs from the rest of the world in the safety of your arms.

You really will love him no matter what.

He doesn’t know what to do.

[akaakeis]

gnawing at my nails rn i miss my bf (i dont have one) how do u pick like,,, one person to selfship with bc⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

like there r so many options ushijima i dont even know who's my favourite character rn ushijima like guys☹️⁉️⁉️

BUT I cant wait for savyaku😼😼😼😼😼 SOCUTE

goshiki is my babey though he is sososososososososo cute and i would want him irl and i bet i could even pull him irl toooo

yk what this type of starting is called! a HOOK sentence cuz u got HOOKED and now ur reading this long ass ask. WAIT FUCJ mattsun guys hear me out here ANYWAYS. HRU SAV!!!!!!!!!!!! its 4am for yew rn right!!

anyways.. its 4pm havent had lunch yet am so fucking tired but soft rice.. soft white rice.... i want to sleep but rice....... call me basic but soft white rice is the best fucking thing in the entire world right after u. teacher gave my english composition an 80 i think ill end up on the news. i just stood up abruptly and the world went 🌀🌀🌀🌀 should i be worried..!!!!

THERE WAS AN OWL ON OUR ROOF THE OTHER DAY SO COOL i almost started writing akaashi hurt comfort (???) at school today but i didnt get time and now im Too Tired :(

im reading and the mountains echoed by khaled hosseini and erm. the plot is so questionable at times like wdym the guy was in love with his chauffeur wdym she tried to kill her sister and changed her mind last second so it was only paralysis but its ok bc she killed her fr next time. wdym this one girl dated her moms ex and then married her friend's ex like guys.. guys i have Questions..

IDK IF U READ JJK MANGA BUT U SHOULD READ JJK MANGA

i cant wait for ur birthday #weirdkidthings Im So Funny Guys Im So Funny

im going to sleep so hard tonight grrgrgrhrgrg i had ice cream on the way home from school YUM and then math kid era p2 i finished this one thinf before everyone else even started and the teacher asked if i did it qt home cuz wtf. ew now i remember her using her nail to create indentations in the paper and i feel nauseous my skin is crawling

WHATEVER eRmmrmrm im sitting on the stairs rn hashtag procrastination ahahahahah ive been writing this and zoninf out for the past 7 minutes yyyyyippeeee

im so tired guys let me sleeeep

my parenrs were supposed to find baby gender today but the little shit kept its legs shut and didnt let them see (just like me frl)

correction im lying on the stairs rn ..

honestly me x goshiki would be Bomb why is he so unpopular all his fics are mid or questionable so far,,,, anyways. konoha is so beautiful i would want him excpet i have like no grip on his character so #tweaks. i hate andrew tate so fkn much. i cant wait till i turn 16 idk i feel like life will be significantly cooler then. anyways bb i take my leave gotta go eat lunch

i hope youve eaten by the time ur reading this!!! stay hydrated and safe and dm me to be silly together whenever >:]]]]] i hope u have a WONDERFUL day sav!! ily <3

look at my man hes so gorgeous btw

alina... bf... :D alright then! umumumummm honestly there were many characters that i wanted to do a selfship with but i didnt want to be self shipping with the same character that someone im following consistently self ships with LMAO cause i feel like it gets weird for me at that point cause all the hcs in my head get mixed up? ANYWAY i just think of selfships with any character im hyperfixating on at that very moment... in fact my selfship very well may change!!!

anyway since im replying after you decided on yuulina... NOYA AGHHH U GUYS WILL BE SO CUTE TOGETHER!!! IM UR NO 1 SUPPORTER THIS IS YUULINA SUPPORT CENTRAL‼️‼️‼️

savyaku sounds so funny i need to thank of something that sounds better stop rn 💔 BUT I LOVE HIM SO SO SO SO SO MUCH IM SUPER EXCITED TO DO SOME SELFSHIP STUFF :))

u would so pull goshiki irl 🙂‍↕️

HELP thanks for the english lesson lina 😭 those terms always make me shudder because they were drilled into my head in my college comp class it was horrifying. and NO not mattsun i do NOT approve of that at this point in time!!!! AND IM OKAY!! tired as hell and i have 3 projects to work on <3 (i stacked my classes this year, im not proud.) IT IS NOW 3 PM AS I ANSWER THIS ASK SO SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE 12 HOURS WOAH

honestly u were probably tired because you didn't eat but i digress... AND SOFT WHITE RICE HAS MY HEART IT MAY BE AN ASIAN THING?? and awh stawp😋 ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE ENGLISH TEACHER THAT YOU CORRECTED IN CLASS? THE ONE THAT CANT SPEAK AS WELL AS YOU?? insanity 😨 i may end up on the news as well. AND YOURE PROBABLY HUNGRY AND DEHYDRATED GO EAT AND DRINK WATER IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY WHAT??? PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!

WHAT AN OWL ON THE ROOF THATS SUPER COOL!! bro i love owls :( and ugh i get what u mean i feel like sometimes the time just slips away... but its okay! you'll have time at some later date <3 make sure you rest enough!!

guys what my jaw just dropped?? THOSE WERE THE MOST RANDOM PLOT POINTS YOU COULDVE LEFT ME WITH. NOW IM JUST CONFUSED? KINDA WANNA READ IT NOW (my readlist has 100+ books on it)...

AND IVE READ SOME OF IT BUT IM NOT UP TO DATE RN I HAVENT HAD MUCH TIME TO CATCH UP RECENTLY

im excited for your bday too!! im trying to math away the time differences in my head so like i would dm at 12 pm the day before your bday so i would catch u at midnight i THINK.

i hope u are having an AMAZING sleep rn alina!!! and u are so smart <3 barf ur teacher needs to stop doing that thats lowk unsanitary? in my book

HELP ME NOT THE JS LIKE ME FR 😭😭 hopefully u guys are able to figure out the gender soon!! im so excited for you guys <33

goshiki is under appreciated as a character honestly and i think its cause of his fuckass haircut 😭 NO OFFENSE TO YOU WHATSOEVER IM SORRY!! HES CUTE BUT THE HAIR IS NOT FOR ME. when i saw him shirabu AND tendou i was like "what the HELL is wrong with shiratorizawa they are all fucked" no they werent they had semi and ushijima BUT THAT WAS FIRST IMPRESSION ANYWAY also konoha UGRHSHSBNDMSJABD hes so!!! so!!! yeah!!! i love him sm... also how did we get on the topic of andrew tate hes such a weird guy i dont like him 💀 AND SO REAL im excited to be 16 <3

AND I HAVE!! make sure u eat something nutritious before school! and drink some water!! i hope your day is lovely <3 ily!!

[cybernightwanderer]

Off-radar until she had to declare ownership again.

Since the fight the other day, i have been avoiding my mom. My mental health has been getting worse and worse, and yesterday i finally noticed.

I have been sleeping almost 15  hours a day, i wake up so sore and in such pain, my head hurts, my body aches and twitches. My leggs seem out of control. I have no will, and no matter how much i sleep, i still cant get out of my bed. My sleeping schedules have been a mess, it gets changed, i fix it, two days later is back to switched and so on. Im angrier, more distant, less “here”, not even on my own head. Feels like im disapearing. I spend my nights crying, i dont even know why i am crying, i just know it hurts. The days seem longer, every two days seems like one mashed up together, i completly lost track of time. I dont remenber the last time i ate proper food, i have been drinking a glass of milk here and there just to keep hunger at bay. Its my breakfast and my dinner. I cant bring myself to cross paths with her, so i just stay in my room. And luckly she has barely pulled much talk, sometimes she tries to pull a fight but i just ignore and walk away back into my room, other times she plays nice and tries to pull normal conversations, but im just so tired i dont even dare to say anything. I know her too well, and im done fooling myself. If she wants to keep abusing me, then im like just go ahead, but im not gonna forgive and forget and play nice anymore, just do what you want. Yesterday she bursted into my room, telling me to go eat, and i told her i already eaten, she started complaining to a point she started yelling just because i wouldnt even reply to her, or because ive just been drinking milk. She has been insisting day yes and do no for me to eat her food, but im just too scared to, because i know what comes next. I have cans and rice in my room , i just cant make food when shes there, and i cant make food  during the night, so im just stuck with milk. A few days ago she asked me to help her go buy groceries, and i explained to her that my sleeping schedule was messed up so i couldnt really go, but when i get up i would get the things she couldnt carry from the car. She grunted at me and said “ fine ill do it myself then “, later on when i woke up she burst into my room , ordering me to do a bunch of chores and all that. And so i did, i barely said a word, i just did it yet she still found reasons to complain, then i went back into my room. A few days pass, today at 6 am, she enters my room without knocking or permission as usual and asked me to go grocery shopping with her because she couldnt carry everything alone. So i told her, i am almost going to bed, but you can leave the dry things in the car and as soon as i get up , ill get everything, bring what you can carry home or the fresh things and ill get the rest. She looked at me in the eyes and started to show her angry expression. Repeating to me that she needs me to go because she isnt gonna take the car, she will go by foot after her jog and she wont have enough strengh to carry everything she wants to carry. And i told her why doenst she go by car? and leave it in the car for me to bring. She turned her back on me without saying a word, so i went back to my room and i closed the door. I didnt even have time to turn around and she calls me again, i open the door and she insists. “I dont want to go by car, and i cant carry everything so i need you to come with me.” And i explained again that i couldnt because i was really sleepy, and my head really hurt. She started complaining and turned around again, while yelling “ ill do it myself then “. Note : this woman can beat the living shit out of a grown adult, can go jogg for one hour and a half, and carry her own grocery baggs. However sometimes yells at me just to carry ONE BAG that only has vegetables and its the weight of one litter of milk only. All my life she used me as a weight carrying dunkey, my back started to get damaged because of that, a small kidd carrying full baggs of grocery shopping 4 times her weight, while she sat at the tv watching her shit and eating. Today my back is beyond repair, and i can barely carry the weight of my own body without getting horrible strikes of pain  that incapacitate me from even moving for the rest of the day. And honestly the fridge was full of food, the freezer too, i havent been eating, what is she going to restock? Shes just feeding herself. She just needed to buy veggies and fruit, and that honestly is just ONE bag. Fast forward, i fell asleep around 13pm and woke up at 8 pm. As soon as i get of my room with the intentions of “eating breakfast” she turns to me and starts questioning if i eaten and if i was going to eat. I told her i was on my way to. She then says “ im gonna make stew, dont you want to make some rice?” I explain to her “ no , because im gonna eat my breakfast now “ She then replies “ yeah i dont care, your gonna make rice now , you dont wanna eat fine but your gonna make for me then” i just stood there looking at her, she then with a more agressive tone “ go wash your hands and make that rice right now” I went to the bathroom, i was mad asf, humiliated. I was going to the kitchen and she yelled “ go make the rice now “ So i replied to her “ yes boss, yes owner “ She started yelling all ofended “ its your duty to -” to wich i cut her off and told her “ why are you complaining , thats what you are, you treat me like a dog, so you’re my owner apparently “ She started ranting and ranting, and i just told her i was doing what she wanted, she shouldnt even be complaining. Then she started laughing and just going like “ you’re so spoiled, you’re a brat, your there pouting so shamefull “ “ and while you’re at that wash my carpet, you shouldve done it weeks ago “ Note : HER CARPET, HER FOOD. A full grown ass woman, cant do her own things, and im the spoiled and brat... She started to continue to try yelling at me, and i  just yelled until she shut up. And apparently reapeating “ im doing what you ordered me to do , why are you still complaining, you should be happy , im doing your things for you “ She eventually shut up. But as soons as im done with everything, i went back into my room without eating anything, i layed back on my bed, and just layed there, defeated, humiliated, crying. My body is not mine, my will is not mine. She then called her friend to talk trash about me on how spoiled i am right outside my door, how ungratefull i am and what a brat i am, and how she does everything for me. What? letting me stay in a room i pay and have payed every since i got my first job? while my two older brothers never did? letting me stay in a house where i clean what i use? where i buy my own food and things? where i just stay in my roon and barely leave so she doesnt get bothered? WOW so amazing, what a hero. The holy mother.

[creative-type]

Guess who wrote about Chopper keeping Zoro alive after Thriller Bark...again

Title: The Good Fight Rating: G Word Count: 2230 AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204785

Sixteen hours of surgery. Ten pints of blood. Countless stitches and the devil’s own luck. That’s what it took to keep Zoro alive after the battle of Thriller Bark.

Chopper laid his head down against Zoro’s bed, listening with a clinician's ear to the beep of the heart monitor, the steady drip of the IV, the rasp of each shallow breath. If he strained hard enough he thought he could hear the rapid, thready beat of Zoro’s heart, but he knew it was his imagination. He’d stabilized his patient, somehow. Brought his heart back into rhythm and sewed his eviscerated organs back into place. Zoro’s veins and arteries, the connective tubing that pumped his lifeblood from head to toe, were now attached to their proper ports instead of leaking immense volumes of fluid everywhere except where it was supposed to go.

If Chopper had the energy he would have cried. Instead he took a shuddering breath through a face full of linens and tried to keep his hooves from shaking.

Zoro claimed god didn’t exist, but Chopper had fought Death itself too many times not to believe in some higher power. He hadn’t lost... yet. But there had been too many close calls lately for him to believe things would get better anytime soon. Chopper was afraid to even think it, but this latest battle had been a near thing, with Zoro’s life in the balance.

Too near.

He didn’t mean to doze off sitting like that, leaning over his patient like some kind of watchdog, but he must have because when there was a soft rap of knuckles against his infirmary door Chopper jerked violently awake. The sudden motion was enough to tip his chair over backward, and it was all Chopper could do to avoid cracking his head against the ground. The last thing anyone needed now was to give himself a concussion.    

“Hey, Chopper, are you okay?”

Usopp popped his head in the doorway, then rushed in when he saw Chopper laying in a dazed heap on the floor. He helped him to his feet and righted the chair, then brushed off the front of Chopper’s shirt like an older brother who wanted to help but didn’t really know how. Once assured that Chopper wasn’t harmed turned his attention to Zoro.

“Is he…?”

Usopp left the question unfinished. There was still an ashen, unhealthy pallor to Zoro’s normally bronzed skin, the barest hint of blue at his lips visible beneath the oxygen mask. But his respirations were steady and his blood pressure stable, and that was more than Chopper could have said sixteen hours ago.

“Everything has gone as good as I could have hoped for. Better, even,” Chopper said.

“That’s great!” Usopp exclaimed. He wrapped Chopper in a tight hug and danced around in a wild circle. Even after being set back on the ground, it took Chopper longer than it should have for the room to stop spinning.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Usopp asked earnestly. “Everyone’s just starting to wake up, I think Sanji’s putting together a party. You should come out and eat something.”

Chopper shook his head. “I can’t. I need to know right away If he starts bleeding again, and with all the transfusions I need to be careful not to put him into fluid overload. Plus with all those open wounds there’s a huge risk for infection, and...and…”

He meant to say more. He needed to say more, for Usopp to understand that while Zoro was better, he was by no means well . But the harder he tried the more his tongue tied into knots. Chopper knew he wasn’t making any sense, which frustrated him even more , the emotion of it all building up within him with no valve for release.

Chopper let himself plop onto the floor before he exploded, sniffing piteously as his vision went unexpectedly fuzzy. Usopp blinked, body going lax as his usual bravado rushed out of him like Luffy after a gum-gum balloon.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” Usopp knelt down and patted Chopper awkwardly on the back. “You did good. Maybe you need to take a nap or something.”

He faltered, his eyes going wide as saucers. “Wait, you’ve been up all this time? We were awake all night chasing zombies, and then that weird bear guy came and blew everything all to hell, and we found Zoro, and ohmygod you’ve been awake since before yesterday .”

“Zoro needed me,” Chopper said simply. “He still needs me.”

As if agreeing, Zoro groaned in his sleep, making a feeble attempt to scratch at the drain that kept his right lung from collapsing on itself under the weight of the blood and fluid in his pleural cavity. Chopper hurried over to sedate him, mentally running through the dosing calculations and praying that he wouldn’t drop his already-precarious blood pressure off of a cliff.

When Zoro was once again resting comfortably Chopper returned to his chair to document, jumping a little when he saw Usopp staring dumbfounded out of the corner of his eye. He’d forgotten anyone else was in the room.

“Y’know, I bet one of Lola’s crew is a doctor,” Usopp said. “Maybe I could go ask--”

“Zoro is my responsibility!” Chopper said shrilly. “I can’t trust Zoro with some random doctor I’ve never met! If something happens I need to be here, because if I’m not I...I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I mean, I guess,” Usopp said, defeated. “But  Zoro wouldn’t want you to run yourself ragged, either. What if you’re too tired and make a mistake?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Chopper said stubbornly, even as statistics of the effects of sleep deprivation rolled through his mind unbidden.

“I won’t lose him,” Chopper said, more quietly. Except the won’t came out sounding a whole lot more like can’t , and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It made the fur on his face feel funny, and Chopper concentrated on that instead of the pitying expression on Usopp’s face.

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t, not without being a doctor. Chopper’s fight started when Zoro’s stopped, and it was up to him to make sure that his efforts, whatever they were, hadn’t been in vain.

A normal person would have died taking half of the punishment Zoro had. Even a fourth would have been crippeling. Yet Zoro stood tall, so much blood slicking his skin that it was a wonder he had any left inside. Usopp couldn’t know the look Zoro had given him right before falling unconscious, the faint smile of relief as he realized it was finally okay to let go, because his doctor was there to keep fighting the battle he had no right winning.

“Chopper?” Usopp asked, startling him back to his senses. There was something in his expression, hesitant and a little frightened, that made Chopper think it hadn’t been the first time he called his name.

“Hmn?”

“You did your part. Now let us do ours.”

The thing about Usopp was that he wasn’t afraid to play dirty, and when it was clear that Chopper had no intentions of listening to him, he went and found Robin.

Not that she looked much better than Chopper felt. Having her shadow forcibly stolen from her had taken its toll, and of all the Straw Hats she was the one he trusted to assist with surgery when he was unable to manage on his own. She had stayed until Chopper was reasonably sure Zoro would pull through, but only after making Chopper promise to call if he needed assistance once more.

But Chopper hadn’t needed assistance, at least not as much as Robin needed rest, so he had plowed on, breaking through his second, third, forth wall of fatigue through caffeine tablets and sheer force of will.

“Your hands are shaking,” Robin observed. She had a bottle of water with her that she handed to Chopper, fixing him with a look until he sheepishly took a drink. Chopper could see Usopp’s shadow in the doorway of the infirmary, whispering fiercely to Sanji and Nami.

Robin noticed his gaze and shut the door before kneeling down to his level. “I know it can be...difficult, at times, to ask for help. But we all have limits, and you have long-past yours.”

She pressed a hard candy into his hooves. “Sanji will be in shortly with a proper meal, but this should hold you over till then.”

“But if something happens--”

“I will wake you,” Robin said. “Nami is getting your bedding now, so you can rest here with Zoro. You don’t have to leave him if you don’t want to.”

All the air left Chopper in a rush. “Oh.” He unwrapped the candy and let it melt on his tongue, even that small amount of sugar boosting his dangerously low levels. When was the last time he had eaten?

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You are exhausted,” Robin said matter-of-factly. Then, with a note of reproach in her tone, “You cannot treat anyone if you do not take care of yourself.”

Before Chopper could argue there was a knock at the door. Sanji swept in, and foregoing his usual praise set a tray down at Chopper’s feet. There was a steaming bowl of cinnamon and sugar rice, milk, more water, and a cookie. Out of deference to Chopper’s patient, the cigarette that hung from his lips was unlit.

“Those shithole zombies took our food supply, and I haven’t had much luck raiding theirs,” Sanji said apologetically. “Looks like most went to feeding that great shithead Oars.”

Chopper nodded. Luffy’s appetite was bad enough on its own, but in the body of a giant it was nearly insatiable. “Thank you.”

The smell alone made Chopper’s mouth water, and he ate with mechanical efficiency, scarcely tasting the food before shoving the next spoonful into his mouth. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and the rice settled like a lead block in the pit of his stomach. His limbs felt heavy as he drank the rest of the water and his eyes burned with lack of sleep.

While he ate Nami came in with a pillow and blanket, but Chopper ignored it in favor of curling up in Robin’s lap. “Lemme know if his heart rate goes up and his blood pressure down, or if he wakes up, or if...if…”

“Hush, now,” Robin said, placing a calming hand against his back. Somewhere in the distance he thought he heard someone start to sing, but he couldn’t place the voice.

It sounded nice, Chopper thought, and he hoped he’d get to hear it again when he woke up.

Chopper woke up entangled in a pile of limbs and blankets. He blinked against the light of the infirmary, realizing somewhat befuddledly that his hat was not sitting on his head. His eyes were sleep-crusted and his throat was dry and he kinda had to go to the bathroom, but Chopper did not move. For some reason, he didn’t want to.

The smell of blood hit first and hardest. Somehow Chopper squirmed enough to get himself turned around and looking directly up at the bed were Zoro currently lay.

And if he was looking up that meant he had to be laying down . It took another long moment for his brain to reboot itself back to waking, and only then did Chopper realize he was on the floor and surrounded by Straw Hats. His head still lay in Robin’s lap while she herself was sitting up against the wall of the infirmary, and it was Nami’s arm that was currently wrapped around his torso. Sanji lay curled up on top of the blanket haphazardly thrown across Chopper’s legs, effectively pinning him to the ground.

Usopp and Luffy (when had he come in?) were on the other side of Robin, sprawled and taking every last bit of space, while Franky sat in Chopper’s tiny chair with his head rested against his massive forearms.

They were all here. They were all alive. Chopper took a deep breath, feeling it catch in the back of his throat.

Music came in through the doorway, a smooth caress to Chopper’s soul.

Maybe Luffy was right, and they’d gone too long without a musician. Hopefully he would find one soon, Chopper would like to study the therapeutic effects of music on the crew…

He drifted back into a deep and dreamless slumber.

The Straw Hats threw a party, as they always did after their biggest and hardest battles. Chopper still didn’t trust Zoro to leave him alone, and Luffy wouldn’t allow Chopper to miss out on the fun, so they arrived at the festivities together. Patient and doctor. Big and little brother. Crewmates.

Friends.

Chopper won this round, but deep down he was still afraid. Afraid that each success would encourage Zoro to greater recklessness, afraid that someday he’d go a step too far and Chopper wouldn’t be able to bring him back. Afraid that he wouldn’t make it in time.

But that was the thing about the Straw Hat Pirates, they trusted one another. Just like Chopper believed there was no one Zoro could not defeat, Zoro believed there was no injury he could not fix. That’s what it meant to be the greatest doctor in the world.

Chopper could only hope that he was right.

From across the room Brook began to play a round of Bink’s Sake. Beside him, Chopper’s small hoof nestled into his hand, Zoro smiled in his sleep.  

[wrathofthewind]

iv. Child

A bowl of hot soup hadn’t been the trick. Once Arnalt had taken that young boy to his palace from the Jungles of Tahr, it required several bowls, more than a few butchered pigs and quite the large amount of bags of rice. The boy was insatiable. It wasn’t a normal appetite either, any stomach would’ve given out. It shouldn’t have been so alarming, but with rumours of his status as a Kurian child, the state in which he arrived, the hunger with which he ate— in an unrefined matter no less, it didn’t take long for the kitchen staff to stop sending out dishes.

“More.” Arnalt demanded, his chilly gaze sweeping over the service.

“Sire… we, we’re not able to continue.”

“What, did we run out of chickens? Is the State in my name so devoid of birds?”

The servant daren’t speak, but they had already crossed a line. Any other household would have them released. That’s probably what they wanted.

“Here then,” Arnalt tossed his bow and signaled with his chin towards the bag of arrows in the corner of the room. “Go hunt something then. Pallax!”

Pallax came walking swiftly.

“Can it be we really ran out of chickens?”

“Sire, they…”

He waited for the servant to clear the room. Nervous glances thrown sideways at both him and Tyssen.

“They don’t want to keep… feeding a Kurian.”

Arnalt pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly rubbed it, eyes closed.

The boy started coughing behind them. Arnalt approached him and slapped his back, making him spit a bone.

“No wonder you’re choking. Slow down!”

Pallax grimaced.

Nobody wanted to touch the Kurian, or look at the Kurian, or acknowledge it was there anymore. But Pallax was a loyal vassal, and willingly stepped in to try and place a fork and knife or other cutlery on the child’s hand.

Arnalt smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”

It disturbed Pallax momentarily, who nearly dropped the fork. But just as quickly, Arnalt was once again stern-faced and pacing the room. He then sat in front of the child on the table.

“You.”

The boy didn’t pay attention, so he snapped his fingers in front of his face to draw his eyes. “Yes, you. What’s your name?”

“Mar… Marius.” He tried to speak between mouthfuls. “Marius Ihnat di Aedan.”

“So you do speak.” And had a strong name actually. Arnalt had already assumed the boy probably came from a wealthy merchant family, with the quality of his tattered clothes and the few jeweled accessories they found in his pockets. It seemed he might be of one with rank and title too.  

“What about your age? You look about 7? 8? Do you know how to count?” Arnalt raised his palm up to try and signal the numbers with his fingers.

“12.” He chewed the remaining bits of rice and potatoes in his mouth and swallowed briskly, immediately reaching for another bowl of soup and drinking it down, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with large gulps.

Arnalt and Pallax both blinked, looked at each other, then back at Marius.

“That’s… then why do you look so…” Pallax said.

Arnalt lifted a hand to stop him. “Nevermind, so you’ve been quite hungry haven’t you?”

Marius nodded and finally seemed to be done with the food he could safely consume. He burped generously and quickly covered his mouth.

Arnalt snorted, while Pallax looked offended beyond belief. “Such lack of manners in front of his Highness, how dare—“

“It’s alright, he doesn’t understand what I am.”

“You’re the prince.” Marius said simply, his eyes suddenly wide and honest. “You’re the seventeenth prince, his royal highness Arnalt Azuria. The Eagle.”

He sounded like a pamphlet. Arnalt was mildly shocked. “Right.”

“…”

“Where are you from?”

“…”

“How did you end up in the Jungles?”

“…”

And the most difficult question. “Where are your parents.”

“They’re gone.” Marius looked down, fixating on his lap.

“I see.” Arnalt didn’t know what else to say.

“I know what they say. I know I’m cursed. Is it true this is my last meal?”

A lightbulb suddenly popped in Arnalt’s head. He started laughing heartily, slamming his fist on the table and shaking all over with his head lowered. “Is this why you’ve eaten all my chickens? Hahaha!”

Pallax was mortified.

Marius’s eyes watered.

“You silly child. I was just confirmed and crowned into the Azurian pantheon thanks to that Vegna Spyralia you carried in your fist.” Arnalt felt his face grow a little hot suddenly, having called him a child wasn’t quite right, considering he was only 4 years younger, but his body looked so young he couldn’t help himself. He wondered how long he’d been malnourished in those Jungles. It must’ve been several years. How did he learn to speak so eloquently? Why did he know his name, rank and title? How was he informed of the goings on of the world? Did he sneak out of Tahr? He might’ve unknowingly contaminated others so Arnalt made a mental note to order a full territory sweep. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, I’ve granted you my Mercy. You will not die under my watch, you hear me?”

The boy’s wet eyes blossomed, his arm immediately coming up to wipe at his suddenly wet cheeks.

Arnalt thought it was both a silly and happy occasion, so he kept laughing to Pallax’s horror. “Now, now, no need to cry. You’re safe.”

“I see.” Marius said, his voice trembling. “In that case…” he sniffed and composed himself, straightening his shoulders. “Use me as you will. I pledge myself to your house.” Marius lowered his head solemnly. It was a bit amusing coming from someone so young, who looked so much younger than his age.

Arnalt smiled, his chin resting leisurely on the back of his hand. “As you wish.”

***

With the battle aganist Ithana squared away and scheduled, and a few other council duties and reprimands already brought over to his desk, Arnalt wrapped up the final tasks of the day and went back to the kitchen quarters. 

He entered Marius’s chambers like a sudden gust, a heavy bag strapped on his back.

Marius instantly moved to stand from the bed where he’d been resting from his relentless training, no doubt ready to assist with the bag, but Arnalt had already sat down in front of him, and Marius remained with his torso raised but the rest of him firmly laying on the bed. He awkwardly tried shifting so that he could at least move into a more formal sitting position, even if the coarse robes he wore could never lend an air of formality to the situation, at the very least his posture could contribute. Next to him was a bowl of hot soup made with chicken stock, boiled chicken strips, corn and sliced potatoes, prepared exactly as they’d been years ago when he was still a child.

Arnalt had gone to the kitchen to order it and asked the staff to keep it coming throughout the night. Naturally he wouldn’t deliver something like that himself, and he didn’t want to make it so important that Marius would suddenly inquire about it.

A servant came in with another bowl and this time Arnalt waved a hand. “Alright that’s the final one, you’re dismissed and no need to send more until the morning.”

The servant quietly placed the bowl on the small wooden table next to Marius’s bed and just as quietly shuffled out of the room--their steps eagerly faster as they were allowed to leave.

Arnalt kept staring with an icy glare which to others would’ve seemed combative but to Marius merely showed Arnalt was deep in thought. It was still a little nerve-wracking, his whole countenance was already so cool and refined, like a porcelain doll with marble grey eyes. At times it felt like staring into a storm, and others like speaking to a stone. The eerie silence begged to be broken.  

“So, now can I say this is my last meal?” Marius said.

Arnalt was surprised by the sheer cheek of that remark. “Your humor is astounding.” And also how perceptive! Just like that, the porcelain glimmered back to life and a bit of peachy softness rose up, as if Arnalt was ashamed to have found that particular joke charming. 

“My impulse is to punish you, everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done, it’s all led to this. This is your fault. You need to bear responsibility. I did my best to warn you and you still won’t listen. And don’t say your duty is to protect me.” Arnalt pre-emptively raised his hand to pause Marius’s reply. “Your duty, first and foremost is to serve, and to listen. I expect my orders followed. Now with everything coming up, this time you will follow instructions precisely or so help me Aegerian gods I will deliver you to the Glaes Winterlands myself.”

Marius glanced at Arnalt’s fist. It was clenched unconsciously. Arnalt quickly released it. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll duel Ithana to secure a vote in your favor in the High Council.”

“As if a vote would matter much...” Marius muttered.

“Of course a vote matters for shit.” Arnalt exclaimed. “I’ll just act as a distraction.”

“My Lord-- why would... that’s not--” Marius looked deeply uncomfortable and ready to jump in and make some bold statement, but Arnalt cut in before he could even start.

“And you, so-called hellhound of Kur,” Arnalt threw the bag he’d been carrying on his back on the ground, a weight off his shoulders that was so visible his body practically lifted once he’d let that bag go, “you’ll run away.”

Marius paled. 

“This is where we say our goodbyes. May you have a good life.”

He couldn’t understand why Marius looked so shocked, or why his fists clenched. 

True, his life might be difficult outside of the palace of the 17th Prince, but he could manage at least a few weeks on his own before anyone recognized his identity. There were ways to hide the marks that made him a Kurian. Either way, the boy had been extensively trained and should if anything find some manual labor in a small village somewhere. 

They both heard a few hard steps and then the door slid, Tyssen had entered and bowed quickly. “Your highness, I’ve arranged everything.”

“Tyssen will brief you on your escape route.” Arnalt stood up.

Marius quickly rose to his feet. “My Lord, wait I—!”

“Make sure he memorizes that map tonight and have him equipped by dawn. I’ll try to keep the battle going until noon.”

Even Tyssen’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to contradict. He bowed once more. “Yes, your Highness, and-- Calm down you!” He pushed Marius back and locked the door as Arnalt left.

Arnalt heard Marius yelling behind him. “My Lord please reconsider. This is impossible! My Lord listen—!”

But Arnalt quickly walked away to avoid changing his mind. This was as much as he could do, battle Ithana until his body gave out, at least by then Marius would have escaped, and he would’ve kept his word.

Marius would absolutely not die under his watch. And he’d already made as much use of Marius’s oath as he could. The boy had downright become a liability anyway. 

Even if the idea of remaining in the arena, standing, for seven hours straight against Ithana… was probably exactly as Marius had said: impossible.

Well fuck impossible.

Arnalt unconsciously gripped his Aerial ring between two fingers and turned it nervously. After a while, he’d already let go. 

[dank-hp--memes]

Pulling at Heartstrings: Chapter 1

This focuses on Ulana story with Valery. She falls ill and has an all but pleasant encounter with Comrade Charkov... This will be an ongoing story (for now).

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Tags: @shit-in-silk-stocking

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September 1986

Ulana's apartment, Minsk

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Ulana is sitting alone in her kitchen, a cup of tea sitting in front of her along with a desolate slice of toast. It had been six weeks since she had last seen Valery in person. She had holed herself up in her apartment, feeling extremely sick almost every day that week, and it was only getting worse. She had returned to Minsk to work and to attempt to understand what exactly happened at Chernobyl. Ulana had assumed that the comfort of her own home may help her concentrate; though, she rarely spends any time at home. Over her week at home, Ulana has hardly eaten, for there is very little food in her house. Even if there was food to be made, Ulana is a hopeless cook. Not that it mattered much, for she had been struggling to keep almost anything she ate down. Anything she did not throw up did not have much sustenance to it. So, she sits in silence, staring at her tea, cautious not to drink too much, fearing it may make her sick.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Ulana rests her head on her hand. It had been weeks, maybe even months since she has slept properly. Even before the Chernobyl disaster, she rarely got a good night’s sleep. As of late, she had succumbed to horrible headaches. At least once a day, causing her to need to lay down. Though she often lays down to rest, she still struggles to sleep. Many nights, Ulana is haunted by nightmares, waking after only a few hours in a cold sweat; sometimes, there is no nightmare at all, and she simply jolts awake. When it isn’t her horrible dreams, Ulana is kept awake by her nausea. Some nights, she sits on her bathroom floor wrapped in a blanket, leaning against the wall as she waits for the nausea to pass.

She stirs her tea and sighs. It had not only been six weeks since she had seen Valery, but it had also been six weeks since she had heard from him at all. There had been no phone calls or letters, it almost seemed as though he had forgotten her. Like he had pushed the thought of her aside. Ulana sighs and proceeds to pick apart her cold toast, crumbling up the pieces. It was one of the few things that did not make her feel ill. She sighs and rubs her temples, not knowing what to do.

There is a gentle knock on the door, making Ulana jump. She looks over at her door, wondering if she should answer. There is another knock. Ulana swallows and stands up, slowly walking to the door. Upon opening the door she sees her colleague, Dimitri, standing just outside. A look of relief washes over his face at the sight of her.

“Dimitri…” Ulana says in slight surprise.

“So, you just don’t show up to work for a week. I thought you might have died” Dimitri says, laughing a little as he gives her a gentle hug.

“I-I haven’t been feeling well” Ulana says softly, a bit relieved to see Dimitri.

“I can tell. You look like shit” Dimitri says, chuckling as he steps inside.

Ulana watches as Dimitri looks around her apartment, it is dark and dingy. She has been living on her own for over ten years now, and she is normally never home, leaving her apartment rather messy.

Dimitri walks around, looking at her kitchen first. Her sink is full of dishes, and her kitchen is generally messy. He opens up her refrigerator. It is empty except got a few odd items. He uncaps the milk and smells it, gagging because of the rancid smell.

“Good god, how old is this?” Dimitri says, laughing as he dumps it out.

Ulana sits back down at her kitchen table and shudders, able to smell the expired milk from where she sits. “That’s a good question” She says, chuckling tiredly.

Dimitri shakes his head and smiles as he glances at her. “You’re hopeless” He teases as he begins to shuffle through the few things in her barren pantry.

There is an almost empty container of oats, a small bag of rice, some sugar, and a tin of tea. Dimitri shakes his head and glances at Ulana, wondering how she has survived this long on her own. He straightens up and proceeds into the living room. It is rather dark and dusty. The windows are covered by a set of particularly ugly patterned curtains that Ulana had never gotten around to changing. A few blankets lay bunched up on the couch, and some extremely old newspapers sit on the coffee table along with a pot, containing the remnants of a long dead plant. Dimitri throws open the curtains and suppresses a cough from the thick layer of dust that was disturbed. He thinks to open the window, but decides against it, remembering the radiation reading of eight milliroentgen. After folding the blankets and discarding the dead plant, Dimitri returns to the kitchen. He approaches Ulana and leans against the table. She looks up at him, and the severity of her exhaustion becomes more apparent. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her dark circles are more visible in the light. Ulana’s hair is greasy and tangled, and her grey hairs seeming more apparent. She seems to have aged years in the week she had not been to work.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up, and I will go out and get some groceries. I will make you breakfast” Dimitri says as he leans on the kitchen table.

Ulana looks up at him and shakes her head, smiling a little as she looks back down at her tea. She takes a sip and sighs.

“You are too kind Dimitri. You do not have to cook for me” She says softly, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“You obviously cannot cook for yourself, and you are horrible at asking for help” Dimitri teases, tilting his head as he looks at her.

“You are not wrong” Ulana says, taking another sip of her tea and pausing for a moment, “Fine, you can cook for me, but nothing too fancy Dimitri”

Ulana then gets up and disappears into her room, she grabs the spare key to her apartment and gives it to Dimitri.

“Just holler when you get back” Ulana says as she finishes up her tea.

Dimitri smiles and takes the key as he pulls his coat back on. Ulana watches as he leaves, the smile fading from her lips. A moment passes and she glances at the sink, then at her mug. Slowly, she gets up and places the mug amongst the many overflowing dishes within the sink. She looks down at them, shuddering as she is overcome by nausea. She leans over the sink, her hands gripping the counter, as she uses what little strength remains in her exhausted state to suppress the urge to vomit. She opens her eyes as the nausea passes, sweat glistens on her flushed cheeks. Ulana straightens up, her vision becoming tunneled and blurry. Upon taking a step, she collapses, hitting the side of her head against the table. She falls unconscious, blood gushing from a gash on the side of her head and pooling around her. Ulana fades in and out of consciousness, groaning softly as she feels someone lift her off the ground.

She came too in a room that was not her own, the gash on her head wrapped in bandages. Whitewashed walls surrounded her, and the lights in the room are blinding. Ulana’s eyes wandered around the room, her vision blurry and eyelids heavy. She could see the outline of a figure sitting beside her bed reading a rather large book. For a moment, hope surges through her, maybe it was him.

“Valery?” She mumbles, not truly able to make out who it was.

“Oh, Khomyuk, your finally awake” A voice says, but it is not Valery’s.

It is a voice Ulana does not recognize. The voice is greasy and cold. It sends chills up her spine and makes her hairs stand on end. She groans a little as she attempts properly sits up. She blinks to clear her cloudy vision. An older man with grey-white hair and ashy, wrinkled skin sits beside her bed. He wears thick-rimmed black glasses with dirty lenses that obscure his icy eyes. He slowly grins, showing his slightly yellowing teeth. The sight of his maniacal grin makes her shudder.

“Who are you?” Ulana asks, her voice shaking with fear and confusion.

“Do I not get a thank you? I did save your life after all?” Charkov says, raising the two furry caterpillars he calls eyebrows in surprise.

“How can I thank a man I do not know?” Ulana replies, leaning back against her pillows, unable to hold herself up much longer.

Charkov smiles, finding her amusing. “I am the KGB's first deputy chairman, Charkov” He says, a nefarious grin crossing his lips.

It takes a moment for Ulana to process this information. She sits, staring at him. Her eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. It is as if her super-computer of a brain cannot comprehend the words that just came from the man’s lips. Ulana shakes her head and looks at him, her eyes burning into him. The sudden cautious and accusing look almost startles Charkov.

“What would you want with me?” Ulana growls, becoming very defensive against Charkov as fear rises within her.

“Oh Khomyuk, the KGB must keep a close eye on the most inquisitive of citizens. And you, my dear, have been caught sticking your nose where it does not belong” Charkov says, giving her a faux-friendly smile.

“But why are you here… Do you not have more important things to do?” Khomyuk whispers, still glaring at Charkov, who is sitting beside her IV/morphine drip.

“Well, I came because I wanted to take a look at your chart myself. So, this has become something of a personal trip…” Charkov says, his greasy voice hanging in the cool air as a sadistic grin crosses his face.

“W-Why would you want to-” Ulana begins, overwhelmed with a sense of confusion and dread.

“Comrade, you and I both know that a seemingly healthy woman does not just suddenly become sick and collapse” Charkov says, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he grabs her chart.

Ulana struggles, trying to get up, but Charkov stops her, turning up her morphine drip. He doubles her morphine dose, turning it up from 3 mg to 6mg every four hours. Ulana lays back after a few moments as the morphine begins to take effect, her body feeling as though it is made of lead. She slowly becomes drowsy, feeling lightheaded as the room begins spinning. She forces herself to stay awake, watching the perverse expressions that cross Charkov,s face as he reads.

“My my Khomyuk, you have been a busy woman” Charkov says, a vicious look crossing his face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ulana says, gritting her teeth as she glairs at him, her fists clenched around the sheets of the hospital bed.

“Oh, so you didn’t know” Charkov says giving her a look of sadistic joy.

“Well, you shouldn’t be allowed to keep it, assuming he is really the father” Charkov mumbles, more to himself than to her.

“What the hell are you talking about” Ulana growls, his vagueness absolutely infuriating her.

Charkov chuckles a little. It is a cold and vicious chuckle that should not belong to a man. He reaches down and places his hand on the small curve of her stomach, caressing it with his thumb, causing Ulana to shudder.

“I thought you would have realized, comrade Khomyuk. You are pregnant” Charkov says, licking his lips as they curl in a fiendish grin.

Upon hearing this, Ulana’s lips part slightly and she stares at Charkov in horrorstricken awe. She looks down at her stomach for a moment, thinking back to the last time she and Valery had been together. Her heart began to ache as she recalled that blissful night around six weeks ago. It was their last night together before she returned to Minsk. After that, she had not heard from him. Almost as if she were forgotten, like a foggy memory, pushed to the back of one’s mind.

“So, what makes this any of your business?” Ulana says defiantly as Charkov caresses her stomach with his rough hand, making her hair stand on end.

“The love child of a top Soviet scientist is my business comrade” Charkov says, tilting his head slightly as he looks down at her.

Charkov then pauses and runs his hand down her stomach. His hand travels beneath the hospital sheets and down onto Ulana’s soft thigh. He can feel her shivering from his touch.

“Quite the stubborn woman you are Khomyuk” Charkov says with a cold chuckle as his hand slides up her hospital gown.

There is another pause as Charkov traces his finger over her, violating her. Ulana grits her teeth glaring at him with pure rage.

“Of course, we cannot allow you to keep the baby” Charkov says as he places his hand back on Ulana’s stomach, running his thumb along her stomach.

“I believe that is my decision to make” Ulana says, her voice breaking as anger rises in her and tears come to her eyes.

“Oh Khomyuk, you are so naïve” Charkov mumbles, shaking his head.

Slowly, Charkov moves his hand up her stomach. He cups it around her breast as he gives a cynical grin, squeezing her tender breast a little, causing her to flinch.

“I doubt you did not notice how tender your breasts have become…��� Charkov whispers, his greasy voice making her shiver.

He places both of his hands upon her breasts and squeezes them, causing Ulana to whimper.

“Stop!” Ulana groans in disgust, trying to pull away, but her body hardly moves. Charkov ignores her pleas and leans down over her, his nails digging into her soft breasts, drawing blood in some places.

“You have been very naughty Khomyuk, I do hope you will learn your lesson” He whispers, as he puts all of his weight on her chest, causing her to gasp for air.

Charkov chuckles a little at the desperate look on Ulana's face. He and shakes his head as he leans back, taking the pressure off her chest. “Get some rest comrade Khomyuk. I have heard that the recovery you will be going through is a long process” he says, his voice icy as he ups her morphine dose once again. He has had his fun with her for the day, now he has real work to do. Ulana watches as Charkov puts her chart back, her vision beginning to fade as he leaves the room. Hardly a few seconds pass after Charkov leaves before Ulana has passed out.

[kramlabs]

six norms that may be making your family less healthy

via Shane Trotter

What is normal is not normal. The human biology expects sunlight, constant movement, physical novelty, whole, natural foods, close relationships built upon shared purposeful efforts for survival, and a generally slow life pace.

Today it is normal to eat exclusively processed, convenience foods, to remain indoors all day except for trips in our temperature controlled cars, to feel pulled and prodded by constant message alerts, and to sit all day, predominantly with our face in a screen while being passively entertained. Normal is a relative term.

Very few forces are as powerful as the human need to belong. Consequently, we naturally tend towards herd mentality, behaving as the masses do, regardless of personal benefit. In fact, we’ll adopt odd “normal” behaviors without even realizing they directly contradict our desires, or that we could choose not to.

The standard model of life that we’ve been handed has created a devastating global health picture and all signs point to this trend worsening in our youngest generation. Now, more than ever, we must be willing to question what is normal and carve a different path.

Freedom is not just having the ability to behave as we wish, but knowing why we choose those behaviors. Through reflection and education, we truly become free and are then able to craft an environment that pulls our family to health and vitality.

If wondering where to start, I recommend exploring these six norms that may be making your family less healthy.

1. Having “Kid Food” Around

There is a widespread belief that there should be a distinction between kid’s foods and adult foods. I’ll never forget a client telling me how she ate well for most meals, but often found herself snacking on her kid's chips or popping a soda. When I suggested she stop keeping these foods in the house, she responded angrily, “I’m not going to not have chips and sodas for my kids.”

I’ve even seen this in healthy parents who make separate meals for their children so the young ones aren’t subjected to nutritious eating, as if this was a torturous experience. They’ll have roasted chicken, brown rice, and mixed vegetables while making chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, or frozen pizza for the young ones.

We’ve been sold the belief that kids can only eat chicken in nugget form, fish in fried stick form, and that the rest of their diet should come from packaged junk. While it is true that palates have to develop, children have always eaten natural, whole foods.

Fruits, vegetables, meat, seeds, and nuts have been the only available foods for almost all of human history. Roasted vegetables, sweet potatoes, and fish are actually childhood favorites when children aren’t engulfed in a world of Pop Tarts and pudding that only further serves to warp their palate. Without a diet predominantly consisting of whole foods, children are virtually ensured of future struggles with health and eating.

Make it simple. Make meals from foods that could have existed 10,000 years ago and have your children eat what you do. Ice cream and other desserts are wonderful occasional treats, but they should require a special trip, not be an always available temptation.

2. Driving As Your Only Mode of Transportation

For most of human history, human muscle moved us wherever we went. Today locomotion outside of our sanitized home or office environment is typically outsourced to the automobile. We even drive across the work campus or endlessly circle in search of a closer parking spot.

Most people struggle to find time for fitness while neglecting to incorporate normal activity into their everyday life. Why is there a need to drive your kids to school if it is less than a mile away? Why must you drive to work if it is just across town? My daily trip to work only went from 10 to 20 beautiful minutes when I switched to a bike commuting lifestyle.

According to the CDC, 71.6% of Americans over age 20 are overweight. Healthcare costs are unsustainable, and yet we drive when it would be almost as easy to use human muscle.

Help your kids break free of this pattern. What a model it would be to make it standard practice to bike when round trips are 10-miles or less, or to walk to pick your kids up from school until they are old enough to walk home themselves.

Despite modern helicopter norms, this is the goal of parenting: to create self-sufficient people capable of creating a purpose and contributing to something bigger than themselves. As much as it scares us we should want them to have this desire for independence and exploration. It sure beats smartphone addiction.

3. Letting Kids Have a TV in the Bedroom

Our environment is powerful. If cookies are always on a plate in the kitchen, we’ll probably make it a norm to grab one while walking by. Replace that norm with a bowl of fruit or ants on a log (peanut butter and raisins on celery), and our snacking norms change.

Screens are an especially pervasive temptation in the modern world. They bring an infinite number of messages. Nowadays, televisions are the focal point of our homes, constantly beckoning us to sit down and stop conversations. But at least we share the programs. They can provide talking points, mutual laughter, and a communal experience not too much different from the primal experience of fireside stories.

Yet, in a kid’s bedroom, the TV brings no positives and many negatives. It is a constant source of distraction from study, reading, getting out to play, or trying any creative endeavor. It is a pull towards more time in isolation and more ability to avoid dealing with potential family conflicts. Most destructively, it is a recipe for poor sleep.

Adolescents and teens need 8 1/2 to 10 hours of sleep per night but tend to average 7 or less. Absent of this they will be foggy, moody, lacking concentration, and at increased risk for the poor decisions that characterize this age.

Their natural body rhythms pull them towards later hours, but school start times rarely honor that reality. Add extra-curriculars and socializing and it can be very difficult for teens to adopt a healthy sleep schedule. These struggles magnify tenfold when they have a TV in their bedroom, which they’ll inevitably watch from bed.

Dr. Craig Canapari, director of the Yale Pediatric Sleep Center, says that the number one thing you can do to help your kids avoid sleep problems now and into adulthood is, never put a television in their bedroom.

The only rationale I can see for putting a TV in bed is to appease your children, despite their own well-being. You are the parent. Be the parent.

4. Giving Kids Smartphones Without Boundaries

Nothing poses a greater risk to your children than that screen they can walk around with every hour of the day. The phone allows millions of messages to shape unhealthy beliefs and values, it prompts poor posture and sitting, it precludes face-to-face communication and overcoming social fears, and it wraps the mind in a vortex of anxiety and a compulsive need for distraction.

At least with the TV you sit and share a single program with other people. The smartphone isolates and constantly prompts you to search for the next best thing after only a brief superficial scan. Take everything wrong with having a television in the bedroom and multiply that by a trillion with the smartphone.

There is no culprit more responsible for the terrifying state of American physical, mental, and emotional health, particularly in childhood than smartphone ubiquity.

But, what are you gonna do, right? It is the world we live in, right?

Please, parents, piss your children off. Tell them no, not until 8th grade and not without tons of boundaries. Why open Pandora's box too early? I’m sure I sound extreme, but this technology is extreme. While working in schools I’ve watched the lobotomization it renders on a generation and, it isn’t just them.

Parents line the park benches scanning furiously. Grandparents and babysitters take their children to bounce houses at odd hours so they can sit and scan their phones uninterrupted. We’ve all seen tech addiction and we’re all subject to the allure. Unchecked smartphone use is the path to a Wall-E type dystopia.

You can’t pretend smartphones don’t exist and you can’t hide them forever, but you can for a while. I highly recommend checking out the screen use recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatricians and using their Create Your Family Media Plan tool. It is very easy and will prompt you through ideas and nuances you may not have considered.

5. Not Managing Smartphone Alerts

As usual, we should start with our own model. Strong parents make strong kids. More often than not we are constantly pulled away from the moment by email dings, texts, and quick scans that turn into a 10-minute mental mindless scroll. This is only made worse by the Apple watch that now supersedes any phone away boundary to shove messages back in your face. Take that dinner time!

Simple recommendations that can help you take back control of your time and be more present for your family:

Anything urgent should require a call. Go to your settings and silence all texts and email messaging. People will learn this about you and it will recalibrate their sense of what is urgent.

Plan the times you will batch all messaging response.

Plan the times you will use social media, apps, etc. For example, maybe you can batch this to two 30-minute blocks within your day. This takes the negative out and makes the tool work for you.

While doing complex work, turn the phone on airplane mode and focus. You’ll get more done.

After work or as you come to dinner, put the phone on a charger, away from you and your bedroom.

Get an alarm clock. A single function device.

Silence all calls and notifications a couple hours before bed. You can make exceptions for people you mark as favorites. This is quite easy to do actually.

6. Buying Into a Modern Youth Sports Culture

After the smartphone, this is truly the toughest insane norm to tread in the modern world. For most of you reading, youth sports were an amazing, integral part of your upbringing. Here we learned essential social skills, how to work on behalf of a team, and how to practice to improve. We played every sport, building a broad array of physical skills that nurtured a love of moving and play. It’s probably where you first fell in love with training.

Today, these foundational experiences have been completely perverted by conmen looking for easy money and a culture of over the top bulldozer parents, willing to pay any price to convince their child they are the center of the universe. Second graders have “signing days” when their parents pay for them to join the “elite” soccer team.

Third-grade football teams put the kids' name on the back of the jersey and have a “pep-rally” every Friday night before Saturday games. Most disturbingly, at earlier and earlier ages, coaches try to convince players they are falling way behind without ridiculous travel, specialization, and expensive skills coaches.

Elementary school kids will have multiple evening practices per week, late games, and long Saturday tournaments. Family time evaporates under the guise that this is what you have to do. By middle school baseball and volleyball parents have conceded their wallets and their summer to travel ball. The family no longer has the option to vacation other than 1,000-mile trips to play athletes just like the ones in their own city.

Clearly, this is an article unto itself. The biggest take-home message is:

This is not the best way to build athletes. Athletic participation is way down, meaning our talent pool is smaller and more kids miss out on these vital experiences. Furthermore, as detailed in the Long Term Athletic Development model, optimal athleticism follows age-appropriate, balanced exposure to sports.

Youth sports should not be expensive and should not be all-encompassing. All the kids want to do is play the game with their friends. Remember that? We’d just go play sports with our friends without coaches or parents and we grew up doing it. Or, we’d go outside and play catch with mom and dad.

Resist the urge to follow the masses into this crazy debt trap. Youth sports can be an amazing experience, but they shouldn’t be the only experiences. How you spend your time matters. Family dinner matters. Family vacation matters.

“It’s no sign of health to be well adjusted to a sick society.”

Krishnamurti

As usual, any broad rambling list will be full of prescriptions that don’t accommodate or appreciate your unique constraints and needs. There are major exceptions to nearly every point I’ve made, but I will stand by the underlying principles. Our standard model is a cultural conveyor belt towards poor health and dissatisfaction.

The best thing we can do is have the courage to buck the norms and live authentically, pursuing a path we earnestly believe in. This will take strength and require you to be counter-cultural. Your efforts matter. Strong parents make strong kids.

This Week’s Mission

Apply any of the suggestions from these six unhealthy norms. If you are unsure where to start, create a family media use plan. Having boundaries tends to offer a great deal of freedom. Without them, we are constantly pulled and prodded, controlled by a constant flood of habit-inducing notifications.

http://breakingmuscle.com/fitness/6-unhealthy-norms-plaguing-us-all

more:

http://breakingmuscle.com/coaches/shane-trotter

[goshgirlsstruggle]

Food Struggles TW: ED

Being 10 years old in year 6 and having a fear of looking fat was not a fun time in my life. Whenever I was down I turned to food as my comfort. From year 6 to year 12 food was my comfort. This negatively impacted my physical and mental health. I never was overweight or underweight. I was always normal, a normal weight, a normal size, a normal appearance. However, I didn't feel normal. I felt huge, like I wasnt worthy of food anymore. Countless packets of ramen, flaming hots, chocolate chips, everything bagels, bacon, pasta.....lots of pasta all filled my stomach until I felt sick and unable to eat any longer. Gorging myself on these delicious foods till the brink of throwing up was how I forgot about me feeling dumb and turned it to me feeling fat. It worked, it got my mind off of my learning dissabilities and turned it onto controlling my food. I didnt tell anyone this until this year, 2022. 6 years of suffering silently, waiting for someone to notice and help.

TW: Toxic food thoughts in next 5 paragraphs. 

17 years old. 17 pounds gone in 7 weeks. 2.8 pounds lost each week. I went from 150 pounds to 133. One of my biggest achievements so far. Amazing results. Wow, I did great......at least I think i did great. I did great right guys? I lost 17 pounds thats good right? I can stop now. Wait can i stop now? Am i done yet? I don't feel done yet....i dont feel like i've done enough. Have I done enough? But theres still so much more I can lose. I told myself I would get to 135 and then stop and i'd be happy, but im not happy yet......just 10 more pounds......please......no one will notice, just 10 more then you'll be happy, I promise......10 more won't hurt. Maybe 10 will take off the double chin or make you have more of a jaw line.....I know you've always wanted a jaw line. Come on Miriam toughen up, you can do it. 10 pounds...hmm....how can we do that in the shortest amount of time possible? Think, think, THINK. Are you STUPID? JUST THINK. Oh my God you stupid fuck just don't eat, its that easy, it wont hurt you like it did last time, just be careful and drink lots of liquids. Nothing too high in calories though.

Okay, you are going to download MyFitnessPal and take note of all the foods you are eating ok? OK, I will. Breakfast: Coffee with oat milk 72 calories Lunch: .......0 calories Dinner: Rice, Veggies, Meat.320 calories Snacks: ......0 calories Total daily caloric intake: 392 WARNING: IF YOU KEEP EATING THIS MANY CALORIES YOU WILL REACH 123 IN 2 WEEKS. STOP NOW!Wow! 123 in 2 weeks, that sounds like a dream, LETS DO IT!:) 

stop no i'm gonna fainti'm gonna die i can't stand up please, i have no energy, i cant wake up but i cant fall asleep. my stomach keeps making noises in class its so embarrassing, help. stop.

No, you just need some self dicipline, your ok, this is your anxiety, you’re not going to faint. Just go to the gym, 1 hour of weight lifting will not do anything bad, it'll only make you lose the weight faster! OK, I will try. Oh look....i love that the gym has a scale, how many pounds am I today? 135....what?.....how?......omg im gonna cry.....what the fuck.....how did i gain weight? I havent eaten anything in days....how is this possible......I am a failure. The one thing I can control, I can't anymore. 

Its easy to feel like you are alone in your thoughts. Whether they include thoughts about food or anything you feel like you need to control, its easy to place hate on yourself. I know...ive been there, im still there, but writing to you right now is already helping. So thank you for reading.

I can't tell you how to manage eating disorders. I dont know either. I dont know how to stop these thoughts I know that so many people have. It feels impossible. The thought will always be there. It comes down to your actions that can make the change. Recently, ive been doing alot better. It never gets easier, but it gets more managable the more you kick it. The more you practice kickboxing, the easier it gets and the stronger you get. I am seeing a dietician now. Shes helping me understand what I can do for my body. The feeling that we need to control something is because the rest of our lives feels out of control so having this ED to hold onto and control was the only way I felt ok. It was my outlet. It is my outlet. Body dismorphia is a huge thing. Everyone goes through it at some point. Looking at yourself and seeing someone bigger or smaller than you actually are, is painful. I know. But keep reminding yourself, its not real. Here are some methods that I am now using to help me in my recovery:

Look at yourself in the mirror. Make strong eye contact and touch everything you hate. Each time you touch something you hate say "i love you, you make me safe, you make me function, you make me live". Recognizing your body for functionality, instead of aesthetics really helps take the weight off as you realize that you were not placed in this earth to be beautiful. You were placed on this earth to live, to smile, to help others and to thrive.

Find foods you love. My favorite food was chips. Any kind of crisp really made my day. I am allowed to eat crisps. Who the hell said I couldnt? Having self control is huge. A few years ago I would finish a whole family sized bag of crisps in one sitting. Now I portion it out. If i want more, I'll fucking get more. But if i am full i will put them away. Self-control.

Eat with someone. Often when I eat alone i dont eat as much as I should/could. I eat until im not hungry anymore, no where close to full though. So when i eat with someone I can pace myself with them. eat the amount they eat and notice that they are not gaining weight becasue the are eating until they are satisfied.

Its okay not to be okay. Do not try to push your struggles down or sweep them underneath a carpet. Live them, tell them, breath them. “During a hurricane open your front door and your back door. The wind will come in one door but will always leave, no matter how much damage it has created. Once its gone, then you can start cleaning up the mess it’s made”. Because one day you are going to look back and say to yourself “wow I wasted a hell of alot of time thinking about things that don’t matter anymore”. Don’t waste the life you have. Live it. Manage it. Breath it. Its okay not to be okay. 

[hobidreams]

Ahhh, gosh pressure/headaches are the worst 😥 i also really hate that. I hope it'll be gone soon and you get to rest your eyes/head huhu, i know how painful that is too as I also get those from time to time. Its hard also bc when headaches attack feels like you can't do anything at all, it sucks so much!! 😓 hope you'd feel better! Pls go away headaches! Also, be careful in the gym 💟

Ahh!! I've been contemplating to watch Love is Blind JPN, is it worth watching? i guess imma put it on my list then! Thanks! That's a lot of animes! Which one's your fave so far?Haven't watched one in a long time but maybe i'll think about watching one if i get the feels of it these days haha 😂

Lately i've been watching kdramas/one jdrama and a few tv shows that's on my list that I wanted to finish. So far i've finished After Life (not a kdrama), Itaewon Class (lot of thoughts haha), Vincenzo (which im still so shocked that i really like), All of us are dead (looot of thoughts too haha). I have a lot more unfinished 😂 I can't with myself haha. I wanna finish One Day at a Time and Ted Lasso. But also, I just started with It's Okay to Not be Okay, Inspector Koo, San nen A gumi (Mr. Hiiragi's homeroom) and Abbott Elementary! Jeez that's a lot! Sorry 😂😅 i can't with me haha this is getting crazy haha

Oh, and also Ali Wong's Don Wong, stand-up com special which was released yesterday haha.

Kept complaining about watching a lot but damn it, its just when a good show comes you can't stop haha. Also even if its not that good, you just wanna know the ending too. Do you do this too or do you just stop watching/reading those you don't like?

Yes yes, i also like chips and fries! Um, the best! You do do flavors or just plain salt? I love potatoes in general, any form- they're all sexy and delicious to me 😂 Also! Whaat yes! I used to eat Senbei rice crackers too, when I was a kid!! I almost forgot about that! Didn't even remember the name til you linked the photo, thanks! It's the best and brings a lot of memories! 💕 also i could eat some pork buns too right now haha. Hmm lately, since i think i'm gonna get my period--i've been craving chocolates, like pastries/icecream haha. I've been craving some crispy chicken burgers/chicken tenders for a while now, since several months ago but still haven't eaten one yet which is just ugh😂 i know its not a "big" problem but haha. It's crazy bc i get really hungry at 3ams (at times, still awake at that hour haha) and it's all i can think about 😅 oh, i just remember how good custard buns too. Haha

Awwh, that's such a sweet tradition! That's so nice! It feels so nice to have someone you could celebrate these things with someone!💟 Sigh, yea, pandemic took so much from us 😔 i wish you two could meet up soon when it's safer there in your area! But yes better to be safe first 🥺 Me, i'm probably just gonna go watch their show like Bon Voyage (only watched s01 too so) or Run BTS just for fun and all haha.

Happy Valentine's day to you and your bf too (and your loves in life)! Hope you get to celebrate! 💕 Wishing you better days ahead and more good stuff to come! Take care, too!! 💟💟

-🧇

thank u for caring 😭💞 i feel loved!!!! ive got a prescription for new glasses and they should arrive sometime this week so i hope that it'll fix the problem soon.

my favorite anime of that bunch is probably Lovely Complex!! i fell head over heels for the kansai ben so every time i see a character with the accent, i just swoooon 🤣🌹 oooh yes i heard so many good things about those dramas but im terrible at following whats trendy so i always end up watching things 1-2 years after theyre popular LOL i really wanted to watch It's Okay to Not be Okay so i think i will do that soon.

OMG thank you for telling me about ali wong!!! netflix hasnt been giving me that advertisement so i had no idea she had another special. im 100% gonna be watching it. love her sm.

i tend to keep watching if im close to the end?? tbh im not that picky so i'll probably finish a show if i start it. sometimes ill just google the end tho hahah.

YES POTATOES ARE SO SEXY. flavored chips are my fave. i really love Ruffles All Dressed and Miss Vickies Sweet Chili, but ive also been on a Munchies kick lately hahaha. also apple chips. are those still chips? 🤣 im also near my time of the month i think so ive been eating everything and anything. you deserve to treat yourself :'))) go get your chicken!!

omg .. dont even remind me of Bon Voyage LMAO i bought the first season and have watched only 3 eps... i literally keep forgetting bc i bought it on vlive and i never go on that website 😭

[emmaekay]

Kotonari IV - Future, Complete Chapter

AN: I’ve literally been working on this for like 8 hours. Hopefully it’s worth reading. I’m gonna go eat some pizza and pass out now.

Kotonari IV – Future

 The Boy walked next to the King, who was still in just his nightrobe, as they walked through the castle. This place, too, was different in his time. The thrones on the dais were the first difference The Boy had noticed – this King Vegeta’s throne was black marble, 90 degree angles, sharp and uncomfortable looking. You looked at the King, you looked at the throne, and you realized that you needed to speak quickly, clearly, concisely for it was apparent that the King didn’t intend to spend all that much time on his throne.

The gilded, plush, jewel inlaid throne next to it, The Boy assumed it belonged to his grandmother Queen, gave you just the opposite problem. You looked upon that throne and realized that the comfortable Queen would take all day, had all the time in the world, to patiently wait for you to run out of words, out of excuses, out of your mind before she passed judgement upon whatever issue you’d brought to her.

The two thrones were entirely missing from The Boy’s world. His father took no audiences, and so had no need of a place to sit and make proclamations. The dais was still there, and on the rare occasions that he addressed his soldiers or his son, he stood upon it and screamed down. The room itself was bare of everything in that future, totally bereft of the painted royals whose portraits hung on the walls now. Dark King Vegeta took no guidance from his ancestors, nor indeed from anyone at all.

The King raised a hand in greeting to the same guard who had admitted The Boy. “Cress. You wisely admitted this child. A threat against the crown is made. Send word for the entire Crown’s Battalion to awaken, make ready for a highly dangerous opponent to attack the castle. One third of the battalion should go directly to the Prince’s estate and guard the Queen and Princess who are currently sequestered there.” 

Cress stood immediately to attention. “At once, sire!”

“And wake Nappa up. Send him to the estate. I need his counsel.”

“N…appa’s, sire?” Cress paused a moment. Nobody had ever – ever – wanted Nappa’s counsel in Cress and Nappa’s entire life. They were cousins, playmates, sparring partners and friends… but he wouldn’t ask Nappa for counsel on anything other than spirits, and even that advice could be taken as dubious. The only other royal to ever send for Nappa directly was Vegeta, who liked the old fool for reasons that weren’t ever apparent. They had gone off world together many times, Nappa and the Prince. Perhaps that was connected to this, Cress thought.

“Did I misspeak, soldier? Nappa. Now. Crown’s Battalion, also now. Move!” King Vegeta ordered the younger Saiyan, who immediately saluted before running down the hall at the highest speed he was capable of, past the paintings, the plush couches, over the thick ruby red carpets, down the hall and around the corner and out of The Boy’s sight.

In the future, the castle was a dark, echoing place. None of this – the carpets, the paintings, the crystal, the gilded banisters, the guards and service people – none of it was there in the castle that The Boy had grown up in. There were no servants, no housekeepers, no cooks, no cleaners, no guards… only himself and his father for the last eight years, and the dry bones of his beloved twin sister rattling in the howling wind against the iron gate.

The Boy had imagined that he spoke to her spirit often, imagined that she grew up with him, that he had hidden her away instead of letting her confront their father. Just ten, just ten – and ten she would always be, and just four feet tall, and just dry bones to haunt him – always. The Boy tried to clear the image from his mind as he and the King passed through that same, but different, gate.

This path he knew well, the winding and beaten path through the castle garden and down into a gully and up over this hill to the Prince’s estate. The Boy would come here often, whenever he could, whenever his father wasn’t beating him unconscious in their “training,” whenever his father wasn’t sending him to fly over cities and encampments to tell him how many “traitors” still lived on “his planet,” whenever he could get a free second to himself.

The Boy and the King crested that same, but different, hill now and The Boy gasped in shock. He had never seen the estate like this – the lawn trimmed, the hedge fence even and brambleless, the roof solid, the door intact. It looked like a real mansion, not a haunted husk – not the corpse that it became. Best of all and most different to The Boy, there were lights and warmth within and he could see someone moving against one of the kitchen windows. He knew that silhouette’s head of long hair, the lithe frame, the short stature  - could it be? The Boy broke into a run.

He burst through the side door that lead directly into the kitchen and cried out, “BERI!” banging the door against the wall hard enough to crack the glass inlaid. The woman in the kitchen jumped in surprise at the sudden violence and dropped a tray of biscuits right onto the floor. The Boy burned his hand on the open oven door as he brushed past it to throw his arms around Beri’s aproned waist, falling to his knees and burying his head in her apron, crying again.

“Uh, I, uh, sire?” Beri turned her confused eyes to the King who stood in the doorway.

“I can’t believe you’re alive! Beri!” The Boy laughed and cried and stood and straightened himself up, rubbing the back of his head in that same way Daiku did after he’d done something foolish.

Speak of the Saiyan, Daiku had felt her confusion and was now thumping down the hallway to see what the hell was going on. He rounded the corner to see a strange young man holding his Beri’s hands, laughing and crying and babbling some kind of nonsense. He also noticed a full batch of his favorite biscuits rolling around on the floor, and he scooped two of them up as he strode into the room.

“What in -omf- ninety eight hells is going -omf- here?” Daiku shoved the bread in his mouth between words. He wanted to know what was going on, yeah, but he also wanted his first meal in 27 hours. As his attention left the bread, he saw the King in the doorway. “Uh… sire,” he added.

The Boy dropped Beri’s hands as soon as Daiku spoke, and was transfixed to the spot, staring at Daiku like he’d seen a ghost. In one way, he was seeing a ghost, but the man who stood before him had not been killed yet. The Boy jumped clean over top of Beri and threw his arms around Daiku’s massive shoulders. “SENSEI! YOU’RE ALIVE, TOO!”

“Uh… yep?” He cocked an eyebrow and opened his hands in confusion, gesturing toward the King and mouthing, What is going on?

“First things first,” the King began, “How is the Queen, how is the Princess, did you find the doctor, what is his progress, and where is my son?” the King ticked off his questions, one through five, on his fingertips.

Beri answered the first two, “My lord, your wife is strong. She is helping Bulma recover a memory right now, but based on her previous meditative sessions, she should be awake within perhaps 15 minutes. The Princess Bulma’s body is healed; the damage to her womb was significant, but her near death was caused by blood on the brain. The Queen has secured two of the five tethers on Bulma’s soul already.”

Daiku dislodged The Boy’s death grip from his shoulders, shoving a biscuit from the floor into the kid’s interrupting mouth. “You next.” He turned his attention to the King. “My lord, I found the doctor on the north road out of Caarte and brought him here directly to heal the Princess and relieve some of the strain on the Queen. Prince Vegeta chose a different route to look for the doctor, and we were separated about 14 hours ago. I do not know where he is.” The King stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I see. How was he when you parted?”

“Distracted, my lord, frantic, at the edge of rage. I would be the same way in his position. After I have eaten, I intend to go find him.”

“Belay that for the moment. Boy, tell them what you told me, answer whatever questions they have, eat something. I need to see the Queen.” The King strode forth, hem of his tunic flapping. “He has on absolutely no pants.” Daiku noted aloud. “Huh.” He sat down at the kitchen table, laden with a hearty stew, biscuits, rice, potatoes, four roasted shanks of some animal, fruits on ice and vegetables piled high and steaming. Daiku pulled several plates and began ladling food on each. Beri brought another tray of Daiku’s favorite biscuits and several baskets of berries and began serving herself as well. The Boy stared. How long had it been since he’d seen a table laid with so much? All The Boy could cook was rice because it was the only food stuff that was ever delivered to the castle. Rice and rice and rice for … was it really ten years since Beri and Daiku had been killed?

 “Eat.” Daiku shoved an empty plate at The Boy. “Some sorrows are smaller on a full stomach.”

“You told me that once.” The Boy nodded and the trace of a smile began to emerge.  

“Did I? Feel like I’d remember that.”

“About eight years from now, you’ll find me crying for my mother, who I never knew. I was here, exploring, and I found her journals and her jewelry. I gave the jewelry to my sister and I kept the journals for myself. I would come here and read her notes, try to imagine her voice, try to imagine my father the way she described him. He used to sing to us, when we were in our mother’s belly.”

Daiku ate, scraping his first plate and lading it again with another helping of meat and stew. “Eight years from now, but you speak of it as if it happened long ago.”

Beri looked at The Boy, eyes widening. “How can it be?” Tears pricked her eyes and Daiku felt her joy and sadness both pass through the Keiyaku. “How can it be? How can it be?” Beri jumped up from her seat, abandoning her dinner and hugging The Boy tightly. “Daiku, this is the little prince!”

“You’re insane.”

“Daiku, look at him! Look at his eyes, look at his ha-“ Beri started to exclaim.

“Not you,” he waved the woman off. “What, am I blind? Am I dumber than Nappa? Look at his face, feel his ki. Of course this is Vegeta’s whelp.” He gestured toward The Boy with the knife he’d been using to butter a biscuit. “No, I meant you. You’re nuts if you think Vegeta ever sang to anyone in his life.”

The Boy exploded into laughter. That’s just what Daiku said the first time he’d read the passage from his mother’s journal and asked Daiku what his father’s singing voice had been like. “I can’t believe you’re still here. Beri, the first memory I have of anyone other than my sister is of you, you know?”

Beri sat back down in her place at the table. “How can this be? Your little body is sleeping sound upstairs! The King told me to take you home when I leave here in the morning, though I may not leave here for a few days. But either way! You’re just a baby, and yet you’re – you look old enough to be nearly independent!”

The Boy straightened up in is chair a little. “I’ll have you know I am of the age of independence.” He smiled sheepishly. “Just yesterday.”

“Tell us how you came to be here.” Daiku spoke around a mouthful of meat.

So The Boy repeated his story, much of the sorrow already gone out of him like a tide withdrawing from the edge of the sea, forced away by the bright power of the moon. Daiku and Beri, like parents to him and his sister, were the moon to him. He told them of his father’s descent into darkness, of the war that wiped them out. Of the rips and rifts in time, hanging open like windows or doorways in the air there to walk through.

“I flew right through one once, without realizing it, you know? It was just air opening into air. And I must’ve been in the decades in the past… there were lizard creatures everywhere and Saiyans in chains. It looked like something from out of the Saiyan  histories you used to bop me over the head with. Icejin bastards everywhere, but I thought about freeing them – the Saiyans, I mean. I thought maybe I could get them through the window, back to my time.” “Reinforcements. Not a foolish idea.” Daiku agreed.

“But it was. Look at me. I don’t look Saiyan. And anyway I was spotted by Frieza’s men within minutes. I’m fast, though, really fast, I mean – even my sister and you couldn’t keep up with me, Beri.”

Beri made a little impressed noise, mouth full as she chewed “Mmm!” Beri’s speed was somewhat legendary among Saiyans, as she was lithe and small of stature instead of tall and thickly muscled like most Saiyans. Anytime someone would make fun of her diminutive stature, she’d say she was –

“Built for speed! Like you always say,” The Boy exclaimed. “Anyhow, I just took the hell off out of there, you know? It took me weeks to find the door in the air, though. I spent… a lot of time on the run, then. Frieza’s men weren’t that tough though.”

“Not that tough?!” Frieza’s forces were notoriously strong. No way had this scrawny kid held his own, much less brushed them off.

The Boy shrugged, though. “I mean, I don’t know. Maybe they put the weak ones here on Vegetasei to keep guard or something.”

Daiku frowned deeply. “That’s not – anyway. How’d you get home?”

“I found the window, eventually. My own time, it smells different. The air does, I mean. Even when Frieza’s men were on the planet, it still had some greenery and some nature. My time… doesn’t. It’s all just blasted down to the dirt. The land has been razed entirely – burnt, stripped, ki blasted into oblivion. Most of Vegetasei is just dead and desert dry. The Allewater river is poisoned, the Namekian’s grudge in it’s waters make it deadly for any Saiyan to touch, let alone drink. That’s,” the faraway look stole back into The Boy’s eyes, “that really where it all went wrong, I think. So many people were poisoned by the water, and that started a panic. The Dark King, he took advantage of that panic to stir the whole country into civil war.”

The Boy tightened his fist around his fork. “We just… Saiyans just… kept dying. You know? Just dying. And my father… seemed happy about it.”

Daiku knit his brows together. That wasn’t right – Vegeta loved Saiyans, he was proud of being a Saiyan, he wasn’t a complete madman… this couldn’t be true, could it? “How many dead?” “All of the women. Maybe 200 men remain. We’re effectively extinct.” The Boy told him.

“Hundreds of thousands dead?”

“At a minimum.”

“My Beri?”

The Boy cast his eyes down. “I was small, only eight. You both died in battle against offworld mercenaries hired by my father to put down the rebel fighters in Asket. They conscripted your house. The worst, the worst men in the galaxy. One grabbed Beri, you went for his throat with your teeth – it was a brawl in seconds.” The Boy began to tremble. “I snatched my sister up by the hand and we just ran and ran. We hid here, in the dilapidated remains of our birthhome for a day, maybe more. When we returned, you were both gone. I’m… sorry.”

Daiku reached under the table and put his hand on Beri’s knee. Yes, he would die for her in an instant, and he would kill anyone who intended to touch her without her permission in half that. Beri gave her husband’s hand a squeeze. “What are you sorry for? You were eight, little prince. I’m sorry I failed to protect you.”

“As am I,” Daiku spoke. “You called me ‘sensei,’ but I must not have been a very good one.”

“Sensei, no. You taught us how to survive. Both of you did. You kept us alive when we were babies, my father would never have cared enough to keep us alive – Beri, you were like a mother to me and my sister. We loved you – love you – very much. Both of you, sensei.”

“Where is your sister?” Beri asked, a little excited to see if she was correct about the little princess growing up into a beauty. “Did she come through the rift with you?”

“No, I… she – I…” tears welled in The Boy’s eyes and he angrily dashed them away. “How long ago?” Daiku asked simply. No details needed. Clinical. Spare the boy any more pain. His eyes were already red and swollen with crying when he arrived, he was barely picking at his food – the child was on the edge of shaking apart, dissolving into the kind of melancholy from which there was no return.

“Eight years.”

“How?” “My,” he choked, cleared his throat, scrubbed at his eyes again. “My father.”

“Was it –“

“Murder, it was murder plain and simple – he just, he just, he just…” cracks in his voice so far away, he looked suddenly so small, a little boy of just ten, and tears poured out of him then. Beri jumped up and threw her arms around him, gathering him to her like a mother hen, kissing the top of his head. “Shh now, shh. It’s not going to happen like that this time, I promise you that, child. Not this time. Shhh, your sister is upstairs and when she wakes you’ll see her and hold her. Shhh.” And she stroked his hair with such mother-kindness and such fierce love, he felt even more like a little boy again.

“And that brings us to the heart of it,” Daiku said at length. “How do we stop it, and what happens when we do? Do you just go -poof- and cease to exist?”

“I don’t know what happens to me, really. When I go through the windows, it seems like everything is just… off. Off on an angle, like the whole world was knocked out of kilter by the wrongness here. And maybe when the thing is prevented, everything will just settle back into the place it always should have been.”

“Hm. Maybe. But how do we stop it, stop him? I don’t suppose I need to tell you that he could kick my ass into space with the difference in our power.”

The Boy snorted sardonically, “No shit.”

“Watch your mouth,” Beri admonished, popping him softly upside the head.

---

“And so, my love, that’s how it is.” The King finished his explanation.

“He must’ve picked up the poison of that asteroid, Vegeta.” Queen Pea, said furiously. “We never should have used it, we should have destroyed it! Look what it’s done to our son.”

Mallumo Asteroid was a dark body, massive, hurtling through space. So large it had its own atmosphere, Mallumo was filled with an evil miasma. The Saiyan King thought if their covert forces could seal some of that miasma in grenade like deployment spheres, they’d be able to use them as an excellent, effective disruption device when defending themselves from the plots of other worlds. He had been wrong – six of the eight Saiyans in the squad sent to Mallumo killed each other on that rock. Only Vegeta and Nappa had left alive, and they didn’t remember anything about how they got off the asteroid.

There was every likelihood that the Malluma miasma was somehow… sentient, and perhaps it allowed Vegeta to live, living itself in his own ruthless heart these last two years, until the stress of recent events gave it the cracks it needed to escape.

Evil is its own self-fulfilling prophecy that way – a little evil makes it easier to do a little more, then that taint on your heart makes it easier to do even worse. Vegeta had always been somewhat ruthless in his dealings with anyone other than the Saiyans, but it was his love for his people that always balanced out the dark things he did to safeguard them.

Now, that darkness had taken over him, manipulated his mind into thinking there was nothing left but the viciousness, the cruelty and the anger in him that sustained the Mallumo miasma in the first place. Without Bulma, he’d forgotten love entirely.

The Queen was right, and this was the most likely explanation for her son’s soon coming betrayal. Now, how to stop it? “Did you send for Nappa?” the Queen demanded.

“Yes, he’s to meet us here. I’ve assembled the Crown’s Battalion, as well. Nappa and Daiku, and even The Boy, will be here and I intend to fight him. Capture him. Fix him.” “See that you do, Vegeta,” her voice still harsh. She reached for his hand with her free one – the right still holding Bulma’s hand, still pouring her power into Bulma, still trying to keep hope alive. “Vegeta…” she whispered. “Do not make me choose.”

She couldn’t imagine having to choose between Bulma, who had become a precious daughter to her and had given her two beautiful grandchildren, and her own dear heart, her King, her Vegeta. She couldn’t imagine the pain of having to let one die to save the other. Even thinking of having to make such a choice stung her eyes with tears like fire.

“No,” King Vegeta reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. “That will not happen, Pea. It will not.”

“Good,” she sniffed. “Then go get dressed, fool. Running around in your nightrobe.”

“Don’t like the view?” he said, standing and flexing his legs and arms impressively.

“Idiot.” The Queen blushed crimson under the golden glow of her super Saiyan ki. “It’s not… unappreciated.” The King bent double and kissed her head, her face, her lips. “Never fear, my love. Nightrobe or finest armor, I will always come back to you.”

The Queen tipped her chin up to kiss him again, but a little knock at the door disturbed them. “Sorry – it’s Dende. I really need to check on the Princes –“ he said, poking his head into the room. “-ess. Uh, I can come back, she’s probably fine.” Dende flushed plum purple under his cheeks, having caught the King in a state of undress, looming over the queen with her hair in one hand and her chin in the other, both flushed like teenaged Saiyans left unattended.

“Enter. The King is leaving. To dress properly.” The Queen giggled.

The King opened the door to leave, Dende standing aside sheepishly to let the large man come through the doorway before he entered it. “Oh, Vegeta?” the Queen called out, “Send my grandson in here.”

 ----

 After their talk, Daiku and Beri walked into the bedroom where the Princess was sleeping, with The Boy following close behind. He had never seen his mother’s face – no pictures, no portraits or paintings of her had survived his father’s rage. Daiku tapped twice on the door, and The Boy heard the Queen say “enter” in a lovely mellifluous honey warm voice.

He walked in and was rooted to the spot, instantly. His “grandmother” was sitting in a chair alongside the bed, holding another woman’s hand, and she shone with a radiance like sunlight, blonde haired and blue eyed. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life laid sleeping in the bed – long blue hair flowing down around her shoulders, her skin the same creamy pale color as his sister’s had been.

“Are her eyes like mine?” The Boy asked.

“No,” the Queen told him. “They’re sky blue, crystal blue, blue like the clearest water.”

“Did she ever tell you what she was going to name us?” The Boy asked, wonder and joy in his voice.

“No, my dear, she didn’t. What do people call you?” the Queen asked.

“Boy. Or The Boy. My sister was girl.” The Boy lost only a little of his enthusiasm. There she was! His mother! She’s alive! He was in time. He sat down at the edge of the bed, near the queen’s chair. “Can I touch her?”

“Certainly. It will not harm her. Dende has repaired her body, I’ve just been coaxing her soul back into this vessel.”  The Queen gestured to the little green doctor, sitting on the couch across the large room.

“Thank you both, for what you’re doing for my mother.” The Boy took Bulma’s free hand, stroking the top of it with his thumb gently. “Mother. I hope you can hear me. I hope you wake up soon. I’ve always, always wanted to hear your voice. I’ve always wanted to meet you, you know? I’ve always wanted to see you.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I read your journals… no one can believe that dad really sang. When you wake up, can you teach me the melody? Better yet, can you smack some sense into my father? He’s… he’s lost without you.”

Beri walked into the room from the adjacent nursery, holding the tiny newborn Princess in her arms. “She woke up all on her own, just laying there and listening, the second you began to speak.” One tiny hand poked out of her wrappings, the little princess flexed her fingers, almost in an attempt to grab at something. Beri placed the precious little bundle in The Boy’s lap. “Here is your sister.”

The babe wrapped her little hand around The Boy’s finger immediately. He looked down into his lap and for the fourth time today, and the fourth time in eight years, he wept – tears splashing down on the baby, a baptism of protection and a baptism of sorrow all at once. The little princess sneezed.

“That’s right, my little one.” The Queen placed her free hand on The Boy’s head. “No need to cry, big brother, you’ve come to set things right and we will help you. The King will win his fight. You’ll see.” The Queen’s sweet voice was gentle and reassuring in his ear. “I need to meditate and try to contact your mother’s soul.” “Right.” Trunks swiped a hand across his eyes, “Okay, I’m going to go. I’ll see if I can help the King.”

“Oh, no, no. Sit down, you’re coming with me,” the Queen pressed. “With your power as one of the Saiyan Gemini, you should be able to easily attain the necessary power level and focus.”

“The Saiyan what?” The Boy looked at his young grandmother in pure confusion. 

“You don’t even know what you are.” The Queen clicked her teeth. “I will explain in greater length what you are and who you are, but for now, suffice it to say that you, in your unascended state are very nearly as strong as I am at this level.”

“What?”

“You are. But that strength requires awareness. You have to know, have to believe, have to have unshakable conviction in your own physical superiority to your opponent. Of course, you’ve been so badly treated, all your life, it’s no wonder you aren’t in tune with that ability yet.” The Queen patted his head. “Daiku, please go find Nappa and get to the King. He must survive whatever is coming – on pain of death, you will return my husband to me.”

“Yes, your highness.” Daiku stole a kiss from Beri on his way out the door, and was gone.                                                                                                    

“Beri, please take the babies and Dende and settle them in to sleep. I assume you’ll be staying here, as well, but please sleep soon yourself.”

Beri scooped the little princess up from her brother’s lap. “Yes, highness. Come Dende.”

The little green man was rubbing his eyes and acquiesced instantly. Namekians were definitely not nocturnal. Beri laid the baby down in the nursery, then left the room entirely, Dende in tow.

“Now then,” the Queen began, “Just try to match your ki to mine – the same strength, the same flow.” The Boy studied her form and let his ki flow outward as hers did, a peaceful stream, a pool of water undisturbed. “Yes, that’s just so. Now, focus on my breathing, and I will focus on your mother’s breathing, and we’ll go through together.” The Boy closed his eyes and felt a sleepy pull, a floating feeling, come over him. 

“Don’t fight that,” the Queen’s voice rang out in his mind. “It’s only us. Come along.”

---

 Bulma stood in the kitchen, about four months pregnant. The antefasting battle was a memory fading into the fabric of their lives, and two months had passed in relative ease. The pregnancy made Bulma prone to fatigue, so Vegeta forbade her from training. He tried to prevent her from even doing yoga, but she insisted that was good for the babies, for the birth, so he let it go.

He let most things go, when it came to Bulma. Most everyone did – it was the effect of the pregnancy, she thought. Vegeta knew it wasn’t. It was her own charm, her own irresistible pull. Meeting her meant befriending her almost instantly, even though she could be abrasive, vulgar, rude and spoiled. She had some power over people. It made her irresistible.

She rummaged through the fridge and Vegeta watched her. The bump of her belly poking out from under a shirt that didn’t really fit anymore, she was piling food on top of it and holding the stack in place with her chin. “Woman, what are you doing?” he asked, one brow raised.

“Look, hee hee,” she giggled, sticking her arms out to the side and holding the sandwiches, fruits and vegetables in place with her chin and her bump alone. She stumbled and tottered, nearly losing her balance, and losing several of her snacks in the process.

“Don’t play around like that!” He jumped up, picking her up, food and all, in his arms. “What if you fall?”

“Oh, Vegeta, really, how much of a clutz do you think I am?”

He just stared at her, his silence the only answer to that question.

“Put me down, husband!” she demanded, pointing her nose in the air and using her most regal tone of voice. Vegeta’s knees almost buckled, but he tightened his grasp on her instead. “Woman, don’t do that,” he said, referring to her ability to turn her words into irresistible commands. Damn flaw of the species, he thought. “What room are you going to?”

Bulma laughed against his chest. “Upstairs sitting room. I’m going to write in my journal a little.” “Mm.” Vegeta mumbled a vaguely affirmative acknowledgement and carried her up the steps to the second floor sitting room she preferred to his own study on this floor. Vegeta walked up the steps, thinking that he’d ask a few attendants to come over and swap the furniture in the two rooms. Maybe then Bulma would stay on the first floor, where she couldn’t fall down any steps.

Deep down, Vegeta knew he was being overprotective. It wasn’t like Bulma went keening down steps every other day, she was actually quite graceful in her own way. But, he thought, kissing the top of her head and depositing her in her favorite chair, he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Call for me when you want to come down, I’ll come get you.”

“Vegeta, I don’t need you to walk me up and down the steps! You’re being weird.”

“It’s this, or I tear the whole second floor off the estate,” he threatened.

“You wouldn’t.” she narrowed her eyes.

“Try me.” He kissed her lips. “I would destroy stars to keep you safe – a house is nothing to me.”

“Vegeta.” She smiled at him warmly and something in his chest tumbled over.

“Call for me when you want to come down.” He pinched her under the chin and went back downstairs.

 About an hour passed in peace and quiet. Vegeta was buried in paperwork in his own study – preparations, requests, suggestions and plans were being made for his 30th birthday and since it was a celebration for the entire kingdom, it would take an unholy number of supplies. 100,000 barrels of beer, 200,000 barrels of wine, 75,000 barrels of spirits. The livestock required to feed an entire race a banquet – they’d have to trade for some. The Namekians would provide some of the entertainment, they could use their ki to create illusions and fantastic effects. 

He was trying to do some meat-math when he heard an all-encompassing rumbling, the sound of thunder over top of him, a soft body making repeated painful impact and his own wife’s scream - and he ran from his study, papers scattering in a flurry. “BULMA!”

She was lying at the bottom of the steps, body curled tightly around her belly, crying her eyes out. “I told you to call for me, I told you I would come get you!” He scooped her off the floor, “What did you hit, where are you hurt?”

“I fell on the babies!” she wailed, burying her face in his chest. “I hit everything!” she cried and cried. He put her up on the high counter in the kitchen so that he was face to face with her bump.

“Shh, shh a minute,” he put a finger physically on her lips, ear to her belly. Strong heartbeat, one. He moved his head to the other side of her bump. Strong heartbeat, two. Vegeta let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “The babies are fine.” “Then why does it huuuuuuuuuuuurt,” she caterwauled.

“Because you fell down the stairs, you little fool,” he ruffled her hair to annoy her. “They’re upset because you’re upset.”

She pouted and cried. “My babies haaaate me!”

Pregnant women are terrifying, Vegeta thought to himself. Moods worse than an Oozaru. Of course, he said nothing, smoothing her hair down and getting something cold for her elbow, which was beginning to bruise deeply. Handing her the cold compress, he placed his hands on either side of her bump as she sat on the counter.

“Little warriors, come out and see your people.

Little royals, come out and see the land.

Little prince and little princess

Your Kingdom is at hand.”

 Vegeta sang the old nursery rhyme he remembered his mother singing to him and his brother when they were being stubborn about one thing or another. His voice was deep and smooth, and so sweet. Bulma felt the pain in her belly subside and she would have sworn that the babies were listening, straining at the walls of their warm little world to hear what only they and their mother had ever heard – their father, singing.

And so the third tether was made, and The Boy learned the melody to the song he read in his mother’s journal as a little boy, and he saw the man his father could truly be.

---

 The King stood atop the battlement, looking up into the black of night at something darker still. He had sent lookouts 50 miles in every direction and when he saw the ki blast signal come from the watcher to the southeast, he knew Vegeta would be arriving soon. He hoped the lookout got away, and since he saw no further blasts of ki light up the night, there was a chance he did.

 Now, the Dark Prince Vegeta loomed above his father’s head by 30 feet in the air, and was perhaps 40 feet away. Close enough for ki combat, not close enough for the physical restraints the King hoped to clap on his son until he could be relieved of this madness.

The Queen had been right – this was the work of the Mallumo miasma. His son’s entire body, even the whites of his eyes were covered in an inky blackness, no hint of his caramel skin remained, and his black Saiyan eyes were overthrown by an evil bloody red. Teeth far too white were displayed in a rictus grin drawn tight across his face. 

“Father.” The Prince’s voice spoke.

“You are not my son.”

“But aren’t I? Aren’t I the one you sent to cause the death of millions, while you sat here comfortable and safe on your throne, with your Queeeeeen,” the Prince’s voice mocked and stretched the words out unnaturally. “Aren’t I the one you used to do all your dirty work, aren’t I the one this entire race used to carry out evils untold in the name of protecting someone they love?”

“Vegeta! Fight this!”

“Vegeetaaa, fight thisss.” The shadow mocked. “Vegeta has fled, coward that he is. I am the Dark Prince, here for my crown, here to show this worthless race what it is to create a Dark King!”

Dark Vegeta charged the King then, closing the gap between them in less than an instant, landing on the battlement just long enough to use its solidity as a launching point as flung himself, screaming his rage, at his father. They clashed brutally – elbows flying, teeth gnashing, feet and fists making shattering impact with their targets. The King locked his hands in the Dark Prince’s hair and delivered a crushing headbutt and the younger man staggered back, shaking stars from his head. He snapped his arms back, and deadly light filled his hands. He thrust them forward with a tortured scream in many voices, “GALLICK GUN!”

Light filled the corridor of the battlement, but King Vegeta fired his own ki wave back. Now it was down to who was the stronger man. They screamed. They felt the ki tear like electricity through their bodies, burning its way out of their hands in unstoppable waves.

Suddenly, the Dark Prince was tackled from behind and went hard to his knees. A crushing blow upon his head. A stab like fire through his middle. Heavy boots to his back, and a man cried, “NOW! THE RESTRAINTS, NOW!” It was Nappa’s voice, and Daiku was still pummeling him senseless. The King flew across the battlement, iron chains in his hands.

The Dark Prince reached up, grabbing Daiku’s hair and smashed his face into the rough stone of the battlement. Nappa was behind him in a flash. The Dark Prince drove an elbow into his ribs – snap, snap, snap went the bone. The King looped a chain around him. The Dark Prince spun and escaped its loop. He snatched the chain from the King’s grasping hands. The Dark Prince wound the iron chain around the King’s neck and with an almighty snarl, pulled the chain taut.

 The King’s world went black.

 He could smell the iron of the chain.

 Taste the iron of his blood.

 The Dark Prince hauled the King’s limp body to the edge of the battlement and kicked it off. The King plummeted to the ground, landing with a sickening crunch of bone.

The Dark Prince faced Nappa and Daiku. “All hail the King.”

[forever-rogue]

Words and Paper - Part III

Summary: Y/N is a brilliant young lawyer who was hired by Tony Stark himself. She didn’t expect half of the things that would happened, but she was sure glad Bucky happened.

A/N: Here is part 3, finally! I know this is a fluff fest, but plot will come in the next part. Thank you guys for all the support as usual! If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! :)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: just lots of fluff!

MASTERLIST

PART I | PART II | PART IV | PART V | PART VI | PART VII | PART VIII | PART IX | PART X | PART XI | PART XII | PART XIII

It had been a few hectic weeks since Y/N’s big move to New York, and she couldn’t have been more happy with her decision - or her new friends. Tony had been nice enough to give a month off, paid of course, to get adjusted and settle down. She found that life in New York suited her: it was fast paced and crazy, much like California, but in a different way, which she enjoyed tremendously. Plus, the chillier weather and more diverse seasons was something she had been looking forward.

Tony had introduced her to the various members of the Avengers team, she had liked them all. She could already tell Natasha was going to be a good friend, and everyone else was extremely helpful as will, offering help however they could. Although she wouldn’t be directly working with them or probably even seeing them on a daily basis, she liked her new circle of friends. But much to no one’s surprise, Bucky had become her closest companion.

Y/N was putting away one of the final boxes of knick knacks that she had brought with her from San Francisco, when she heard a soft knock on her door. She cast a look over at Pickles, who was curled up busy napping on window sill bench, trying to get any sunlight she could during the overcast late afternoon. She hadn’t expected anyone to come over today, so she debated even answering the door. She decided it was probably nothing to worry about, so she padded over to the big wooden door and looked through the peephole, and to her surprise it was Bucky.

“Hello there,” she grinned as she swung open the door in excitement, “I wasn’t expecting you.” She gave him a quick once over and felt a slight blush creep up in her cheeks when she realized how good he looked, although he always looked good, he never really had to try. He was dressed simply today, a button down and some jeans, but damn, he made it look good. In his hands he clutched small bouquet of flowers.

“Hey, Y/N,” he beamed at her and held the flowers out to her, “these are for you. A sort of little housewarming present.”

“They’re beautiful,” she stepped aside and let him in. Pickles, suddenly wide awake, hopped off of the bench and ran over to greet him.Y/N smiled at the two of them, Pickles wasn’t usually so friendly with people she was still getting to know, “she approves too. And they’re my favorite. You remembered.”

“Yes, daisies,” he bent down to pick up the small cat and started giving her cuddles, “You told me 2 weeks ago. But you prefer lighter pastel colors over the super bright ones.”

“Alright,” she grinned as she headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, “I’m extremely impressed you remembered all of that.”

“I don’t forget things about people I like,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly. He sat down at the island counter and watched her work, “what’s today’s thing you have decided to share?” The two of them had kept true to their word and were telling each other new things about themselves on the daily.

“Hmmm, what indeed,” she mused as she set the finished flowers on the counter. She tried to give him a variety of different facts to keep it interesting, alternating from telling him random things about her family, her high school years, or random things she liked. She loved getting to know little bits and pieces of Bucky, just as he loved learning about her, “my favorite type of people are ones who remember little details about me.”

“Oh come on, that’s a given and doesn’t count,” he laughed at her.

“Fineeee,” she sighed and leaned against the counter as she racked her brain, “Quentin Tarantino is my favorite director.”

“What?!” He was now full on laughing, barely keeping it together. It amused him to no end how someone so gentle and soft loved the exact opposite. She ran into the adjacent living room and  grabbed one of the pillows off of the couch and hit him with it, “oh, you’re serious?”

“Yes, you jerk,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “I think he’s great. Just because it’s violent, doesn’t mean I can’t like it. He has a vision, you know. Story telling is his forte!”

“Alright, alright, Princess,” he appeased her and played along and got on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him, “please forgive this poor peasant for ever doubting you.”

“I mean...I suppose. This Princess likes her Buckaroo,” she extended her hand out to him to pull him up. He bowed his head and reached for her hand. He stood up more abruptly than she was expecting and they slammed into each other. Bucky wrapped his arms around her to keep from falling as he balanced them out, “ohh hello.”

“Hi there,” he smiled down at her as he inhaled her soft vanilla scent,, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m good,” she nodded lightly. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute, as they both stood unmoving. She could feel the heat radiating from his strong body on her smaller frame. They had never been this close and entangled before.

She was pretty sure her growing feelings for him were undoubtedly not so secret anymore. What she didn’t know was that Bucky felt the same about her. It had been so long, decades really, since he had had feelings for anyone. Especially nowadays, when people still feared him and he didn’t make many close connections. Neither of them wanted to move; everything in this moment felt right..until she heard a loud meow behind her, “oh!”

Pickles sat on the floor in the kitchen next to her water bowl, signaling it was time for her dinner. What great timing she had, indeed  Bucky and Y/N slowly let go of one another as she walked over to feed the cat. Bucky was sad to have to let go of her but didn’t want to make things awkward. He stood there and scratched the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly fed Pickles before turning back to him, “I-uh, sorry. She’s so needy.”

“It’s okay,” he responded, thinking of how to make his next move, “it is dinner time after all. Have you eaten?”

“No, actually, I was just putting away the last of my stuff, eating hadn’t even crossed my mind,” she admitted as she glanced over at the small and still half packed box.

“I don’t know if you had plans or anything,” he chuckled nervously, “but would you want to get dinner or something?”

“I do not have plans,” an idea crossed her mind, “but how about we order in and watch a movie? Maybe a Tarantino one? I have all of his films.”

“That sounds great,” his heart did did somersaults at her plan. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather be doing right now, “what sounds good for dinner?”

“Chinese, for sure,” she was never one of those girls who couldn’t make up her mind, “unless you’d prefer something else?”

“No, Chinese is always good,” he agreed as he walked into the kitchen and opened the drawer where he had started a collection of menus for local restaurants. You never know what you could be in the mood for or when, he had told when he first started the growing collection.

He already knew what she liked, but he didn’t want to give away how much he actually remembered about her. Stalker vibes was not something he was wanting to give off. He knew she loved her egg rolls and fried rice, “do you want anything in particular?”

“The usual! I think that sounds perfect right now,” she gave him a big smile as she went to grab some blankets from the small hall linen closet. She sneaked peeks at him as he pulled out his phone and called their favorite spot. She listened to his smooth and voice him, watched as he nodded his head as ordered, the way his smile reached his blue eyes, making them seem bluer and brighter than ever. She wondered what it’d be like to kiss his soft looking lips.

“Y/N?” Bucky caught her off guard, as she had zoned out as she was watching him. He waved his hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh sorry,” her cheeks deepened to a bright crimson as she realized she had been caught staring at him, “I got so caught up thinking about which movie to watch.”

“Sure, Princess,” he gave her a wink that made her want to melt as he sat down on the couch and put his feet on the table, “the food should be here in about half an hour. What film were you thinking about?”

“How about Reservoir Dogs?” she held up the box in front of her face as she walked over to the TV, “underrated if you ask me, but one of his best.”

“I agree, his earlier works might be slightly better than his old ones,” he watched her eagerly put into the move into her Playstation. He loved how easy, and yet wonderful everything felt with her. He patted the couch next to him and she sucked in her breath a little bit. As often as they spent time together being so close to him still gave her butterflies. She sat down a bit tensely as she too put her feet on the coffee table. She left just a little bit of distance between.

They started watching the movie, although neither of them were completely focused on it. Both of them were hyper aware of the heat flowing between them and the closeness of their bodies. Bucky was trying to push himself to make a move. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her chest rise and fall lightly, her eyes trained on the TV. Just as he was ready to finally put his arm around her, a knock came at the door. He groaned inwardly, but stood up to answer it.

He opened the door and quickly grabbed the food and put it on the table, ready to turn around and get some plates. Y/N scoffed a little bit, which caused him to turn around, “what?”

“It’s Chinese, we’re supposed to eat it out of the container,” she said dramatically. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, “unless you’re afraid of my germs, Buckaroo.”

“Not a bit,” he rejoined her on the couch and grabbed the chopsticks she was holding out to him, “you just can’t go hogging everything, like last time.”

“Oh come on! It was one time and I was really hungry,” she protested as she started shoving an egg roll into her mouth. She immediately regretted her decision as the bite was too big to shove. She gave a muffled grunt, “oops.”

“My point exactly,” she narrowed her eyes as at him as she tried to swallow the last of the bite. She struggled breaking down the big bit as she continued to chew and chew.

“I got it all down,” she said triumphantly a few moments later and stuck her tongue out at him, “and there’s more for you. See I can play nice!”

“We’ll see about,” he countered as he started getting the chow mein they had gotten, earning himself a jab in the side from Y/N with one of her chopsticks.

They finished their food in relative, comfortable, silence as they turned their attentions back to the movie. About halfway through, Y/N felt her eyelids start to droop and a few shivers ran down her body as she was getting cold. Bucky noticed and grabbed one of the big fluffy blankets and draped it over them. He finally got enough courage as he put his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest. When she didn’t argue but burrowed even closer into his side he couldn’t contain the goofy grin on his face.

It wasn’t long before Y/N was asleep and snoring softly on his chest. He watched the rest of the movie in happy silence, moving as little as he could as to not disturb her. Pickles even got up on couch on his other side and rubbed against his hand. He gave her a few scratches and she contently curled up into his side.

As the end credits started rolling, Y/N started to slowly wake up. She blinked a few times before she realized what position she was in. She was pulled away to the side and looked over at Bucky, hoping she hadn’t done anything too awkward or embarrassing, like confusing her feelings in her sleep. He smiled over at her as he kept his arm draped over her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in small voice.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he stated as he pulled his arm from around her shoulders and sat himself so they were facing one another.

“Did I snore?”

“Like you were sawing logs,” he joked and she groaned and hid her face her hands. He gently pulled her hands away and rand thumb over cheek, “I’m just kidding, it was so soft I almost didn’t even notice.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before getting a wicked idea, “the drooling though...that’s where I draw the line.”

“You’re such a liar,” she challenged him and he burst out in laughter.

“You got me there,” he admitted. He studied her face, trying to read what she was thinking. He figured things had gone well enough so far, he might as well try his luck, “Y/N?”

“Hmm,” she made a content sound and pulled the warm blanket closer to her body and away from him with a wicked smile.

“I never told you anything about me today,”

“Oh, that’s right you didn’t,” she realized they been too caught up in eating and movie watching, or in her case, snoring, “go on then.”

“My fact for today is that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” he admitted as he waited with bated breath for her response. He tried to read her facial expressions, which he mostly read as surprise.

“Really?” She asked as her face broke out in a big smile, making her eyes crinkle at the corners, something he had noticed early on.

“Yes,” he admitted as he was the one who now had a faint blush starting on his cheeks.

“Are you gonna actually go ahead and do it?” She asked as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms his neck and pulled him closer, “because I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for a while now.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear as he closed the distance between them and put his lips on her soft ones. They both felt the instant spark between them and felt as though time was standing still. Only when they needed some air did they finally pull apart.

She rested her hands on his shoulders as he cupped her cheeks. He leaned his forehead against hers in a small but intimate gesture. He kissed her lips once more and they grinned at each other like lovesick teenagers. Y/N sighed contently and closed her eyes.

“That was worth the wait,” he admitted.

“It was about time,” she joked as he nodded in agreement. She reached up and invited him back under she stolen, “now that that’s settled, what movie is up next?”

Bucky pulled Y/N back against his chest and decided in that moment that it really didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was them and their happiness.

Taglist: @sebstanwassup @ladyabby-1996 @bookaddic @jems8241

[caticorn61]

Sticky Notes- Part I

Synopsis: When your father is transferred to South Korea he decides it’s time for you to break out of your shell. But what do you do when your roommate doesn’t speak English?!

Genre: Chanyeol, Fluff!

Word count: 2357

A/N: I REALLY hope you guys enjoy this, ive never written a fic before and I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and i wanna thank @shesdreamingfics for the inspiration, motivation and support (and hella good editing) with this. Please send in your feedback!

The elevator doors slid open and I shoved the last of my luggage inside. I fidgeted with my newly made apartment key and bit my lip as a sad attempt to occupy my mind. I hated this, everything about this, and I hated my father for leaving me no choice. I don’t know who told him that forcing his only child to move out was a good idea, especially to a country she had never even been to.

“This will be good for you! You need to get outside of your comfort zone. I think this is a great way for you to do that.” He would say every time I tried to protest. Of course it wouldn’t be as bad if I actually spoke the language or knew the area, but no. My dad got transferred to South Korea, and he decided that now would be the perfect time for me to spread my wings. Him and his big ideas. I sighed and threw my head back. I hadn’t even met my roommate yet. With any luck he would avoid me or just never show up, but if I ever had any luck at all, it was long gone. According to my dad he’s the son of a fellow member of the military. He’s a composer I guess, and performs often.

The elevator came to halt and I walked out, counting the room numbers as I went. I looked at the tag that was attached with my key, and beside some korean letters was the number 24. I assumed that was it and stuck the key into the lock, took a deep breath and unlocked. Here goes nothing.

Before I could even turn the knob, the door swung open and in front of me was the lankiest kid I’d ever seen. He looked beyond shocked to see me, which made me seriously doubt I was even on the right floor.

“Park Chanyeol?” I asked, the boy nodded, his brown bangs sweeping over his brow. “I guess you’re my new roommate.”

Chanyeol shuffled awkwardly and stuffed one hand into his hoodie. He blinked at me in confusion and said something in Korean. Don’t tell me he doesn’t know English. Dad swore on his life most Koreans knew enough to get by.

I wiped my palms on my jeans. I could feel my heart beat faster. I felt my body tense up in a wave, starting from my neck and crawling it’s way down my back. I couldn’t have put into words how much i wanted to run and curl up in bed instead of actually following through with this insane plan.

I introduced myself as I held up my key and dangled it in front of him. His eyes widened and he took it. He smiled in a way that seemed to take up his whole face and started spewing off fast Korean and looked at me to see if I understood.I shook my head. His smile dimmed and he stepped aside, inviting me in. I smiled shyly And shuffled past him. He walked in front of me and gestured for me to follow. It was a fairly small apartment; the kitchen was the first room we walked into immediately after entering, and it opened to the living room. It was a small but comfortable place. He led me into a spare room, lightly decorated, with some random boxes scattered about and a bathroom in the back. I set my stuff onto the bed and nodded to him. He asked something in korean and I stared at him. I hoped he couldn’t tell how scared I was.

“Roommate, yes?” He asked in English and a slight wave of relief rolled over me. It wasn’t anything significant but I’ll take what I can get.

“Yes.” I nodded with a smile.

“Korean?” He said, presumably asking if I spoke any of his language. I shook my head slowly and I could see the frustration and confusion set in. We stood there for a little bit, neither of us really knowing where to begin. How were we supposed to live together if we couldn’t even say hello?!

Chanyeol moved first, bowing his head and leaving me to my own. As soon as he was out my sight I flopped onto my bed and felt tears sting my eyes. I was out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure.

I woke up suddenly. For a minute I thought I was in a dream, I didn’t even remember falling asleep. I was still in the same clothes from yesterday, hell my bags were still on the bed. Jet lag had done a number on me.

I rubbed my face and glanced at the clock. Noon already huh? Jesus. I slid out of bed and treaded quietly out into the main area. To the left of my room was an office, which Chanyeol apparently turned into a form of studio/hangout area. Straight ahead was the kitchen and living area, which led to the balcony. For a single guy he kept the place pretty tidy, and stylish if I do say so myself.

I wandered forward and walked into what I assumed was his room. Random posters of singers donned his walls. A piano sat in the corner next to his computer. On his desk sat a massive soundboard and pages upon pages of sheet music, and I vaguely wondered if he had written it himself. I looked around his desk and scattered about were little sticky notes. Little notes and reminders scribbled on them, they even donned his walls here and there.

My thoughts were interrupted by my stomach growling. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Thankfully dad had given me a starting fund to settle in with. I didn’t know how much it was in won but he assured me it would be more than enough.

The closest convenience store was a few blocks from my complex. As I walked nearly every sign was illegible to me, aside from the occasional English sentence or word. A lot of people stared at me and I felt so exposed. I shouldn’t be surprised, most people around me are all the same, and I’m sure my presence just screamed foreigner. If my darting eyes and nervous demeanor didn’t give me away then I️ don’t know what would. I️ felt naked and exposed to everything. Every sense I️ had was in fight or flight.

The store was small and run down but it would do. My stomach growled as I looked at all of the snacks and microwave dinners. I recognized some of the snacks they sell back home and grabbed a few of them. I lingered around, and I could feel the cashier's eyes on me. I grabbed a microwave dinner and stared at it, pretending I knew what was written on the label. I prayed the old lady would find something to do instead of watching my every move. Eventually I just shoved a few packages into my basket and sat it into the counter. I took my money and flipped it through my fingers. The cashier glanced at me with amusement, and told me my total. She pointed to the screen. 20,000 won. I looked at the money in my hand and counted out what j thought was the right amount. The cashier chuckled and shook her head, she took the stack instill held and recounted it. She gave me my change and patted my hands. “Have a good day.” She said with a chuckle. I walked out and felt relieved to be out.

I stopped in my tracks. Which way did I come from? I felt my heart skip a beat. I grabbed my phone from my jacket pocket and hit the home button but the screen stayed black. Dead. I tried my best not to cry. Everything looked the same, no landmarks or signs that would point me in the right direction. I couldn’t ask for help even if I knew how to. The thought of it made my stomach twist and anxiety spread throughout my body.

I pick a direction and walk as fast as my legs can carry me. My shoulders brushing past those of strangers as I muttered a breathless apology and tucked my arms in closely to me. I ran smack into a tall man with a mask over his face and his ballcap pulled low, causing me to drop my bag. I apologized over and over even though i wasn’t even sure he could understand me. I quickly picked up my bag and ran on.

I slammed the door to my apartment shut, thanking whatever god there may be that i actually managed to find my way. I threw my bags onto the counter top and rubbed my eyes to try and clear away my panic attack. Tears stung my eyes and my breathing shook quietly and i was silently thankful Chanyeol wasn’t home. The last thing i need is his concern and attention. How the hell am i supposed to explain that walking outside pushed me over the edge? Especially when neither of us can communicate on a normal day anyhow.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. My appetite had came back full swing with a loud, obnoxious, growl. I forgot that was why i left in the first place. I stuck my hand in the bag and grabbed the first thing i found. The little image on the container had what i assumed were rice cakes in some red sauce. I spun it around and read the back which to my surprise, had English on it. I followed the directions, microwaved my lunch and peaked around the kitchen for wherever he kept his silverware. I picked up a pair of metal chopsticks, i wasn’t the best with them but they would do.

I plopped onto the couch right as Chanyeol walked in. He smiled at me as he pulled his mask down. His face scrunched up in amusement as he watched me struggle to pick up the small morsel of food. I felt my cheeks flush softly. What’s he starin at? I avoided his gaze and aggressively stabbed my food, causing him to chuckle at me. I’ll show him, cocky ass thinks I can’t use chopsticks.

I shoved the small cake into my mouth and stared at him while i chewed. He looked at me expectantly, as if i was either supposed to die because his country had the best food I’d ever had grace my taste buds or that it was the worst thing I’d ever had. I chewed confidently, not reacting, and then it hit me all at once. Hot! Holy fuck that’s hot. I started choking and I saw his expression change to worry as he rushed to the fridge. As I fanned my mouth he handed me a glass of milk. i chugged it all in one gulp, which did only so much to kill the fire in my mouth. All of a sudden he bursted out laughing, hell he was doubled over. I don’t know why he found my near death experience so amusing but sat the dish on the small table in front of me and stood up.

Chanyeol looked at me, his smiled wide as he chuckled deeply. He muttered something and went to his pantry, shuffled through it and tossed me a small package. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and for the first time i really looked at him. He was pretty tall, he easily towered over me but at the same time i felt comfortable with him. He was easy to be around and had this warm and welcoming prescience. And man was he good looking. He was surprisingly muscular, and he had the brightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. It was almost as if they smiled too. How he was still single was beyond me, although he looked kind of like an elf with how his ears stuck out but even those were endearing. At least my dad got this right.

“머고.” He said, making an eating motion. I carefully unwrapped what looked like a weird rice triangle and took a bite. I sighed, no spice, extreme surprise that makes me what to cut my tongue off. I swallowed and honestly nothing had felt as satisfying.

“Thank you.” I said. I’m not sure if he understood me but he smiled sweetly and tossed another to me. He gave me the sign to eat again and left into his room.

I practically devoured both of whatever they were and managed to finally get a charge to my phone. My father had left a few messages asking how I was, but i decided to spare him the happenings of my day. After all, I’d get the same response as always. “This will build character.” he always said.

It was about midnight when i decided to shower. I noticed a light emitting from Chanyeol room, and i peaked through the crack in his door. I watched as he stuck a sticky note onto his wall, the last in a line of a few others. He shoved his notebook aside and slid over to his piano where he silently pressed against its keys, whatever music it made flowed through his headphones. Even though i couldn’t hear it, the rhythm of his movements set the mood of the song all on its own. He was so animated and passionate. I admired him. Forma person i couldn’t use words to communicate with o felt that i knew him more than words would provide. All from that.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The clock ticked in at 11:27 and i stretched out with a sigh. My stomach growled again and i rolled over. Hoping that the other snacks i bought weren’t as feisty i stepped into the kitchen. Instead of my bag i found a plate that had fresh food on it. Stuck on the edge of the plate was a tiny pink post it note.

“For you. Eat!”

[thechangelingmedusa]

☝ ✔ ♥ 😒 🌟💭

Ah shit. realised when i answered this on tumblr mobile it goofed and didnt post. So round 2....

☝- How tall are you?

170cm cause fuck feet and inches

✔ - Sexual Orientation

Like gender isn’t that important to me when it comes to liking people both platonically and romantically. A cute person is a cute person is a cute person. I guess if I had to put a label on it - bi/pan. Regardless, my sexuality isn’t a huge part of my identity so i dont really think about it much.

♥ - Do you like anyone?

Aw man...yeah, kinda. but p much ignoring it for now because life is crazy and we’re good friends and i dont want to lose that. I have a few other crushes but like not pursuing anything atm. 

😒 - Biggest pet peeve?

I dont drive but im p sure I get the equivalent of road rage around people. like STOP TAKING UP THE ENTIRE PAVEMENT WITH YOUR SHITTY FRIENDSHIP GROUP YALL ARE SO SLOOOOOOW. STOP STANDING ROUND CHATTING WITH YOUR SHITTY MATES IN THE EXIT OF THE STORE OH MY GOOOOD. KEEP YOUR SHITTY KIDS ON A GODDAMN LEASH OR I STG I WILL MOW THEM OVER I HAVE SHIT TO DO JAYSUS. damn. also people bullshitting you to save face, just dont do that if you want me to keep respecting you id prefer you just be honest. and GODDAMN EMPTY PACKETS IN THE COOKIE JAR!!!!LIES!!!11!

🌟 - A wish you’ll wish for?

Just to be able to do life at my own pace ya know. And for people to be generally kinder to one another. 

💭 - Favorite foods?

Aw, man this ones a toughie. I’m just gonn list random shite that pops into my head: egg fried rice (thankin the lordie i know how to cook this for myself); anything from the restaurant Sakura just round the corner from me; these honeycomb & white chocolate cookies i got from tesco (best cookies ive ever eaten stg); classic krispy kremes; grape flavoured sweeties; my mums yorkshire puddings & roast spuds; garlic bread; hummus; candy floss......

Thank you for asking dear! Sorry this took so long to respond to

[marixpedition]

10 REFLECTIONS FROM MARIXPEDITION 2017

It’s the time of the year again when most people are becoming so reflective. Appreciation posts are flattering as well as greetings. I am not so fond though of posting my thoughts on my social media accounts but since this is the last day of the year, let’s give it a shot.

10 REFLECTIONS I HAVE TO CAP OFF MY CRAZY 2017

1. Love and love and love as much as possible. You don’t know when things will suddenly be plucked out from your life, so show some love even if you feel exclusive about it. It won’t hurt to give a little love. Sometimes, we run out of ideas and forget that love is the best thing that we can offer to people who little did we know need it the most.

2. Life is both a wheel and an uphill climb. Adulting is so difficult. It is like you need to earn 10 years of experience before you take another step in life. It’s not always that you are up there. Most of the time, you are down there, but at least you can look up to something. Like what they say, “When you’re down, you have nowhere to go but up.” Being an adviser to 27 wonderful [naughty] kids is not a joke, but I’m glad I took that chance despite the difficulty at first glance.

(If you are reading this, Determination Batch 2018, I love you all so much even if you are “sometimes” pasaway.)

3. You will never be prepared for sudden changes in life, so just be cool with it. You may not like the changes, but what can you do? It’s there. Give things the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the change you dislike is the change that will open more opportunities for you. So when you encounter change, be like yaazz this girl on fire is so ready to slay.

4. NOTHING IS WRONG WITH PLANS A.K.A DRAWINGS. It’s normal. We plan and sometimes things do not go our own way. We have reasons. They have reasons. As adults, we just have to deal with it maturely. Time is gold, but respect is more precious than that. God has the perfect time for all the plans you planned. If He has to extend the hours in a day, He will do that if it is part of His plan. Do not go crazy ranting about postponement. It’s not going to get you in a comatose.

5. (Fave part ❤️) True love is not about being in a relationship. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against your cheesy lives. Sometimes, true love is choosing to wake up on the other side of the bed and get up to go to school or work. True love is not about eating in fancy restaurants. It can be sparing 15 minutes of your precious time to eat your breakfast with your loved ones. Maybe, true love for some is flashing a sweet smile to people despite the inner pain. So, do not be down if they make fun of you being single. You have experienced and shown true love, but in a metaphorical way mediocrity will never understand.

(Still praying for my God’s best. Yes. No judging please. 😂😂😂)

6. Take good care of yourself. No one else will unless you’re crazy rich. Those skincare routines may seem like a waste of time and money at first, but you need it SERIOUSLY. When you grow older, you lose confidence in your own skin. The key is to invest in “sulit” products.

My Skincare Routine:

Dove Soap (Shea Butter)/ St. Ives Oatmeal Scrub > Nivea Toner > Nature Republic Aloe Gel/Nivea Moisturizing Creme 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Also, dress up well. You do not have to join the bandwagon, but please dress up accordingly. You have to be attractive to your own self before being attractive to other people (Yes, may pinaglalaban).

Most of all, EAT HEALTHY. It’s only this year that I realized the importance of this one. I got super sick when it was the busiest time of the year. Only by God’s grace that I survived teaching, MA, parties, and other stuff while I was super sick. I should definitely stop eating nuggets and rice every single day in school.

(Apologies for inserting my photo here. I am not saying that I am a perfect picture of beauty. It’s just that I was glowing in this photo. 😂)

7. Stand up for what you believe in as a christian. If open dating is a no, then it is a no. Say it. Do not settle for the gray areas especially if you are permitted to express yourself freely. If you think premarital sex is wrong, say it. Do not be passive about such things that can endanger your principles. Modern day people might be triggered or shookt about this, but no matter how risky standing up for your faith is, you must do it or just stop preaching at all. Dare to be different because you are set apart for His glory. Christ died for us. You do not have to die to walk your talk. All you need is to be mindful and make sure that God is the center of every action and every word you speak.

8. Embrace who you are. Let not social media dictate who you should be. Wear whatever you are comfortable with not with what IG girls are wearing. Travel not because a well-known personality went there, but because you want to experience the world.

If there is a need to take down your accounts, take the challenge. In that way, may you find yourself again. (Worked for me. Been in a social media hiatus since October. Got back this holiday season. Will be in a hiatus again after.)

Btw, this is a photo of a very natural and true-to-self young boy. A student of mine I consider legit lodi.

9. FAMILY over any form of kaartehan. This is so true for me. Before you worry about your ootd, make sure your family has already eaten their meal. Before raving about the new stuff you got, make sure your family is home safely. Before thinking about your next snap, check how they are and if they are doing well in school/work. It does not make you less of a millennial if your top priority is your family next to God of course.

Just this year my mom was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. She went through medication and a certain diet for her to be tested if the nodules are cancerous. Thank God it wasn’t! It was a great relief. That time I felt the need to spend more and more time with my family. Tell them everyday how much I love them. Eat dinner altogether and so on. I do not want to regret not spending more time with them when I could.

Right now, I just feel so blessed to spend the last day of 2017 at home with my family. ❤️

10. WAIT. Waiting hurts a bit, but waiting is discipline while you anticipate the reward. So, just wait. Whatever it is you are asking God of, wait. He will give it to you at the right time. My friends always ask me when will jowa arrive. I’m just like, “I don’t know. I am waiting patiently. Baka na-traffic lang.” But seriously speaking, waiting is something that will build up and strengthen our faith in God. I know that I won’t be single forever, but for now I just have to trust Him and wait patiently.

I do not know what 2018 has in stored for me, but I am sure that God knows when I’ll see Maldives and London and when I’ll meet God’s best. He knows things I am yet to know and let’s keep it that way. 😉

To everyone who patiently read this blog post from beginning until the end, I pray that you will have a lit and slaying 2018. May God fill each and everyday of your 2018. When setbacks arrive, just pray. You’ll get through it by His grace. You survived 2017, so there’s no way for you to give up in 2018.

With all the love I have inside my heart, happy 2018! 🎆🎇🎉💯👌🏻

[perfectionistincrisis]

~life

- so this is the first week in psmmc. Omg, i love it here! this is like an actual learning hospital. the doctors are so willing to teach. and the nurses are just sweethearts. everybody here is so damn nice. I also got to actually take my history from a patient, lol. cause he knew english! Or else normally, someone else has to do it for me, or i make a list of whatever answers i need for my weekly case report which i couldnt find in the patient files and then they ask those in arabic for me. bleh whatever. but this place is just amazing when it comes to teaching. 

- Also, although kfsh is like really huge and i did have to walk a lot over there but this place is also huge and the difference is that, in here, you need to walk under the sun in order to get from one building to another. your legs hurt plus you also sweat. i do like the sun light and all but like it is so hot and totally dont like sweating! this place is like a huge compound, like kfsh is interconnected so you dont really see people walking outside buildings much. just cars go in and out to pick or drop people. but here, you have cars coming and going all the time then there are these small weird sorta thing that transports people too within the buildings. although i dont know who they are for. then there are so many people moving about all the time. there are parks and people sitting on benches and its pretty cool and way different than kfsh. 

- oh one thing which is same in both the hospitals is that although i dont know arabic and i have problem taking hx or even understanding what the patient says when i am in the clinic until the doctor or anyone else translates it to me, it still feels like a different world. because a hospital is a hospital regardless of where in the world you are. What i mean to say is, i feel less like i am in saudi arabia. Like there are men and women and no separation and women can actually move about freely and just because you are a lady, nothing is any less accessible for you than they are for men. but ofcourse, if you start to observe every tiny detail, you will know you are in saudi arabia, cause like i said, the language difference and how most patients dont know english, and also the clothing is different. there is way more of hijab here and all. but in general, in any hospital, the atmosphere is really different. and what i realized is that, it will be similar wherever you go. whichever country you go, when you are “in a hospital” there is this one general atmosphere different from any other place. 

- like in kfsh, i always think of him and dream about him whichever hospital i am in. like, what if he was here in the same hospital.. And it kind of makes me feel alone and well i am alone! but yeah, i figured, i’ll be stuck with this feeling in any hospital in this world. and another thing i realized is that from the beginning of 4th year, i.e. right now, most of my life will be spend in hospitals lool i mean, this is it. you keep moving forward, but this is the place. the hospital. now you may be changing hospitals like right now, within saudi arabia, or you might be moving to another country, or whatever. but you will end up in a hospital! 

- there is nothing else going on in my life. its just hospital, and then somehow trying to get signature from doctors as fast as we can to come home. once youre home, you sleep, get up, and study or atleast attempt to. ad then go back to bed max by 1 and not any later than that and then a new day starts. 

- something new is that i am trying to change my diet to eating all healthy and this time I am doing it differently than i ever did. I always used to compeltely cut down on carbs. because it is really easy for me too as i really didnt like it much ever. although i do have cravings sometimes. like my pasta craving which ive held onto for the entire summer vacation and I still am. Yessss, i still havent eaten that creamy cheesy pasta with tomato sause which ive literally been dreaming about because i feel like i still have to lose a lot more. so what is different is that this time i am including carbs. but like brown bread instead of white. and maybe a little amount of white rice but only a little. The reason is because Alhamdulillah, i think my health is good compared to how it ever was. like i honestly cant say i feel 100% fine. its like ik i have problem, i can feel them but compared to how i felt in months, i feel a lot better now. and so i dont want to suddenly stop carbs and risk losing how i feel right now. Another thing is, before when i used to eat healthy, it was actually not healthy. As in i almost used to eat nothing most of the time and then eat something very low calorie for days and then eat a really high calorie meal to balance the defect every 2 to 4 days. that is because food really has a huge impact on my emotional status. like a hug impact. but this time i am not just skipping food overall but instead actually putting effort to prepare some healthy meals which will both fill me up and will also be comparatively lower in calories. i actually need to make sure they taste good so that i dont jump onto any unhealthy meal. however, i dont think that will help me in losing any weight unless i start working out but i am not doing that in the next 3 weeks. for two reasons - one is that i dont want to put pressure on the scar and also i really dont have the time till before my surgery final. but although i love food, especially the unhealthy ones, i also always wanted to try to eat clean and healthy. with of course cheat days. so this is more of a lifestyle change. which by the way i did try before too, and was successfully carrying on until all the uni stress would make me eat all sorts of junk. but um, idk, i am not saying i wont get stressed anymore now, cause i will, duh, but when i do, i want to make sure i still work out regardless of what i eat. well lets see how that will go. 

- well umm, thats all for now! 

:) 

[takumochi]

tagged by @meru-chanx3​ !!! THANK U!! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ im honored!!! CHNDCJD im srry i didnt do the first one I FORGOT ABT IT ILL DO IT SOON!!!!!!

1ST RULE: tag 9 people you want to get to know better 2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true APPEARANCE: I am 5'7" or taller (GOD I WISH) I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing (do earrings count??? otherwise no) I have blonde hair I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces (i wear retainers at night...!) PERSONALITY: I love meeting new people (KINDA???IM STILL RLY HECKING SHY N AWK) People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges (a little, tbh only when im in a maso mood) I’m playfully rude with people I know well (i like roasting and bullying my friends as long as theyre ok with it///) I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it (”Y’ALL”... also memes...like WHO KNOCKED OVER MY ONIONS-) ABILITY: I can sing well (i sound like a high pitched dying weasel) I can play an instrument (flute!!! i can also play the piano by ear --and im transcribing tachiiri kinshi onto it currently //cries) I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well (ID LIKE TO THINK SO??) I have a good memory (tho i still have bouts of short term memory) I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling (*flexes my deceiving noodle arms*) I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch (i can cook rice..???? //SHOT) I know how to throw a proper punch HOBBIES: I enjoy playing sports  I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else (i actually just quit orchestra) I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month (ive never drawn so much in a month tbh? also i jst drew a rly bad ikuya from free! at 3 am bc i couldnt sleep) I enjoy writing (i still have too many drafts and no finished works) FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION (i honestly dnt know what i would do with my life without them BESIDES DEVELOPING MY OWN OCS...which were inspired from fandoms....) I do or have done martial arts EXPERIENCES: I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol I have scored the winning goal in a sports game (//wheezes// not soccer or anything but badminton bc im actually decent at it) I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting (i need to stop doing this tbh) I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country (the philippines and canada! almost went to japan this year when i visited the phils again bt i already had too much expenses//) I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts RELATIONSHIPS: I’m in a relationship I have a crush on a celebrity I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them (im too embarrassed n shy 24/7) I get crushes easily (*SEES LANCE -from nameless- ONCE* *SWOONS*) I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend MY LIFE: I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school (*clenches fist*) My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live in the United States There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone RANDOM SHIT: I have breakdanced I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair (i have ombre reddish-brown hair rn!!! i finally got to dye it again after 4 years) I’m listening to one song on repeat right now (HIBANA!!!!!! AA, IIYA--- NANANA *tablet pen turns in2 glowstick*) I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages (i still kinda suck at tagalog tho) I have made a new friend in the past year (yes!!! IM SO TOUCHed BY EVERYONE///)

gahhh ill tag people id like to know better as well!! (please dont do this if you dont want to...!)

@red-dyed-sarumane @ayarou (BC I LOV U) @silverbuttercups @iaminope @thedaughterofhades @hetalialuvr11 @sweden-da @subarashii-world @sylphkan