#well i can't control being the color of milk all too much

[alphabetcompletionist]

you look like every character ever made in a picrew. you look like if someone melted victor from despicable me in a microwave. you look like you say "erm actually" irl. you look like you used to call yourself a "chaotic gremlin" when you were younger. you look like if someone asked me to think of the average tumblr user. you look like the dictionary definition of "androgynous fair-skinned person". you look like if the phrase "oh my gods" was a person

and ladies, i'm single

ABCDEFGHI KLMNOP RSTUVW Y

22/26

[burgerrat]

@hofnarrofficial said: gimme everything you got just bury me alive (only if thats possible ofc lmao)

Ok.

Turbo's favourite movie is Herbie: Fully Loaded

He has ALWAYS been flamboyant/effeminate like you see King Candy being. I hate seeing people portray Turbo as this perpetually grumpy/angry bitter person all the time all because of the revelation scene being the one 'real scene' we have of Turbo in his original form. The reason why Ralph wouldn't recognize the similar behaviour pattern is because he didn't know Turbo well enough since he rarely ever left his own game unless it was to go to Tapper's to have a root beer and brag about winning to anyone who'd listen (mainly Felix). Need a 'draw/write Turbo being silly and goofy like King Candy is' solidarity.

Contrary to popular belief, he does like the color pink- he just has a very specific preference for that particular salmon shade of pink.

Turbo and the twins all had racecar beds to sleep in back in TurboTime.

Candybug's desire to take over the entire arcade at the end of the movie is his new cy-bug coding speaking; all Turbo has ever wanted is to race again and be in the spotlight. He would struggle to control his bug instincts not just in terms of resisting beacons of light but also in terms of acting upon intrusive thoughts in general. Mix that with anger and hopelessness that he'll likely never be able to drive again in this new form and you've got the perfect recipe for disaster, because what more does he have to lose?

Do not misunderstand: I too dislike the trope of 'he's just misunderstood' since that is far from the truth, but that doesn't mean he can't have moments where you feel empathy for him (at least in my case): you are programmed to be the protagonist of your world, the best, that is your sole purpose in the life you have. You become addicted to the attention you recieve- foolishly not thinking once that it's possible that may not be the same thing tomorrow. Once that is suddenly taken away, you don't understand why- you're the best. And because you are the best, instead of processing your losses normally, you won't let go. You're instead determined to take back what was rightfully yours. By any means possible. Making the biggest mistake of your life- you kill not just your neighbors but your own home out of impulse. You are to blame for the choice you took- guilt becomes rage, rage becomes bitterness, bitterness becomes calculative; why cry over spilled milk? The damage is done, and your code is desperately crying out to do what you were made to do: race. All you can do is start anew... don't dwell on the past if you want to have the spotlight again, processing your mistake doesn't matter anyway; and so, once a new racing game is in town- you'd be frothing at the mouth to hop in after decades of isolation, wouldn't you? You'd do anything, if you were that desperate and awfully selfish.

This leads us to the following: Turbo had a mental breakdown during his years of isolation, mainly because he was unable to race; this is why he laughs and giggles no matter the mood he's in as King Candy. It's a form of tic.

This might be a bit OOC? But whatever. Hilariously enough King Candy is a somewhat decent(take that with a grain of salt, I'll elaborate in a moment) fatherly figure: he treats the SR racers like they're his adopted kids. I say somewhat decent because of course he completely excludes Vanellope and because he picks favourites; Taffyta, Rancis and Candlehead are his golden children and because of that, he's sometimes willing to swallow his pride and let them cross the finish line before him.

Taffyta is VERY competitive and sometimes will get unreasonably aggressive to win and that's something KC admires in her because it reminds him so much of himself and the bond he used to have with the Twins, especially when competing. Another reason why Taffyta bullies Vanellope is because she knows King Candy dislikes her wish to compete and she feels like this is something that would please him regardless of his approval of it.

Again maybe kind of OOC-ish but I sincerely don't think Turbo outright hates Vanellope herself like. As a person; she has done nothing, but she does pose a threat to blowing his cover and he is not going to allow her. The one thing that bothers him a lot about her is her stubborness to race and always finding a way to weasel into the Random Roster Race. During the tunnel scene where he straight up becomes violent towards her, you can tell she's never seen him this angry to her before; this leads me to believe he never blew up on her before because, regardless of how much of a threat she posed for him; in his mind- he figured she likely would never really be in a situation where she would actually cross the finish line, and she's just a child, so why bother? Of course. That is until she sprints right past him on the race track and the rest is history. (And I have to clarify again I AM NOT justifying his actions; there is no 'justifying' any of it. This is an observation because of the reactions/expressions/etc. seen in the scene.)

Writing that previous hc reminded me of this and I just had to include it because I can SO see this happening 😭 it's hilarious and wholesome in a way.

I saw something about this on @king-crawler 's blog and I feel like I should bring this up bc it rubbed me the wrong way: I donno about you but to me, Turbo programming himself as King of Sugar Rush is not ego thing (not the main reason behind it at least!); it's to avoid suspicion in general within the game because ALL of the SR racers are children. It would be suspicious and really fuckin' weird to have a character programmed as an adult that isn't an NPC/side-character like Sour Bill or the donut cops to just be among them like nothing, regardless if he wipes their memories they (or other candy subjects) will question it. He's not stupid, in the game there's supposed to be a royal figure, no? So, it'd make perfect sense for that figure to be a supposedly 'wise' King that looks after all his subjects and makes sure rules aren't broken. So to me it's less of something done out of selfishness and more of just being able to go by unnoticed, he programmed himself as King to fit in with the whole 'monarchy' concept within SR. At the end of the movie when Vanellope says she doesn't want to be a princess, you get a little glimpse of how much the candy subjects depend and rely on a 'higher figure' to function.

As King Candy, he believes himself to be cute. (adding this side note just in case bc I shit you not this is genuinely something people have argued and mocked me over: don't come at me for this. I have my opinion, you have yours and I'm not going to change it for you; as a fan for a whole decade who has known in tge past other fans, there ARE people that find him cute as I do /gen /lh) He shamelessly indulges in that and he WILL use that as a manipulation tactic to get what he wants- sometimes playing with your emotions as well by tugging at your heart strings and overall painting himself to be a 'frail silly old man' in sn exaggerated manner so you'll give in to whatever he wants- and once you agree suddenly the 'frail' old monarch has an outburst of energy and joy, completely shedding off this fragile-pitiful facade.

Turbo has somehow rescued the Turbo Twins before his game was unplugged and I have evidence to prove this:

He has their codes tucked into his own (bad example I know but kind of like how an opossum mom keeps her joeys in her pouch); he keeps them in a dormant state this way by not allowing them to have separate code boxes of their own. The reasons behind this are simple: he doesn't want two characters that very obviously don't belong in the game to roam around freely, he has enough trouble with Vanellope as it is; and he knows that if he lets them awaken and respawn, they will criticize him for the path he chose to go down- and he doesn't want to deal with that because, for him, it would be pointless and it'd only bring frustration he doesn't need. He would rather keep them as ghosts of the past hidden in his pocket.

Speaking of Vanellope: Turbo is awfully envious of her driving skills, she's the first racer that has bested him on the track. Another selfish reason why he doesn't want her to race- goodness forbid a child beating you at what you're passionate about and arriving in second place.

When overly emotional- be it positive or negative feelings- King Candy would sometimes temporarily glitch back to his original form as Turbo because his code is old, filled to the brim with stuff, it's bound to have a few crack and tears here and there, like an old but still functioning car with a rusty engine; this issue has only accentuated after the glitching-exchange during the tunnel scene.

Speaking of which- because there were little to no censorships in 70's videogames, Turbo bleeds. It's pixelated blood because it cannot be processed through the programming of Sugar Rush since the game was not made to have any graphic themes in it. If one of the racers gets hurt- they quite literally just bleed coding.

Turbo often smokes.

Turbo sometimes gets sick of eating nothing but candy and will send out Sour Bill to get him something salty to eat from another game. He has his own little stack of junk food and other non-sweets within the castle.

He's not just the King of Candy, he's THE LORD OF THE DANCE! (watch at your own risk I warn you /hj)

CURSED JOKES ASIDE I unironically like to think he is a good dancer. Nobody beats him at tap-dancing and The Bus Stop. (He's from the 70's so it'd make sense he's familiar with a lot of funky/disco dance moves)

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #188

I have a bit more sleep today. But for whatever reason, the rib is still paining me quite a lot. It really hasn't let up for the last several days. It's kind of hard to function.

Nonetheless, I went to the Visual Field Test thingy today. You look through a thing with only one eye, and you click a button when you see a dot of light in varying intensities and in varying positions. Then you do it again with your other eye. Easy peasy. But I don't get the results until later, I guess.

I made a tea when I got home. It was the toast and jam tea. The swirls today were pretty freaking cool:

...It's really cool to watch. As the contents of the tea dissolve in the hot water, it changes the density that the light has to pass through, so between the color of the tea seeping into the water and the change in density causing the light to bend weirdly, you get these stringy swirls that I think are really cool to capture pictures of.

The milk swirls today were good, too:

...I really gotta remember to try this with the slo-mo video setting next time...

J and I tag-teamed the dishes today. J hates washing the silverware, but I don't mind it. And I wasn't in a state where I could easily lift plates and whatnot; the rib being stupid kinda makes that hard sometimes. But between us both, it managed to get done, which is good, because the silverware was really piling up.

I sang a little today while doing the dishes; it has been some time since last I've done anything like that. But for reasons that you might or might not understand, I was not able to sing Ordinary Day without tearing up and my voice getting weird this time. 😒😔 On the one hand, it was cathartic, but on the other hand, when I get like that, I can't control my face or my voice very well. Ah well; it happens like that sometimes, I suppose.

J and I also made a pizza. We had a gluten-free pizza in the fridge, made with that ooey-gooey cheddar and tapioca dough; it's REALLY GOOD. I added some leftover sausage, mushrooms, and onions to it; I thought it turned out really well:

...I wish I could share it with you. It really was very yummy.

I think yesterday I must have put a bit too much pressure on myself to come up right away with a perfect house. I'm a little frazzled today, so I think maybe I must be just a little bit overstimulated from various things. I don't have a whole lot in regards to insightful or earth-shattering things to tell you.

Maybe I'll play some Dead Cells just for kicks. I dunno. Or maybe not. Either way, it'll have to wait until I eat and drink at least a little something; I know that if I start, I'm gonna end up forgetting that I have a body and responsibility to tend it. I'll leave the link here, just in case, I suppose...

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe out there, all right?

Your friend, Lumine

[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

[raiden-shogun-cult]

CHAPTER 1

Back - Next

Draken’s POV

2005/05/27

As I carried her back home, I couldn't help but to think about our past and how much we've been through together. When we arrived we were greeted by the stench of perfume and smoke as I walked into the living room where there was laughter and people talking over each other and went up the stairs. I opened her room door and tossed her onto her bed, jolting her awake. “DRAKEN!!” she yelled clearly angry at the fact that I woke her up and she tossed a pillow at me which I deflected. “What woman?” I said, annoyed that she threw a pillow at me and with that she giggled.

I sat down on her bed and she scooted closer to me “When will you let me join Toman? I mean Mikey already-” I glared at her and she stopped mid sentence “No, I won't let you join Toman, it's too dangerous. You could get hurt or even worse KILLED,” I said and she flinched when I raised my voice. “But what about you, Draken hmm? You could also get killed and hurt but you are still in Toman. I want to take that risk too! I actually care for the members of Toman and I want to be a part of it. Whether you “let” me,” she air quoted “Or not i'm still joining,” and she got under the covers, her back facing me and I sighed scooting up next to her, putting my fingers in her hair untangling it and playing with it.

She was as beautiful sleeping as she was when she's awake and it mesmerized me, the way she softly breathed, her chest rising up and down lightly. It made my chest twist with envy that she cared so much about Toman, that she’ll risk her life for them but then again I can’t control every aspect of her life no matter how much I wish to and it hurts me but whatever makes her happy. 

//TIMESKIP//

2005/05/28

When I woke up, Y/n wasn't beside me and I panicked. I got up quickly and sighed in relief when the h/c colored hair popped in the door smiling. “Why are you up so early? Come back to bed,” I complained looking at the alarm clock which showed the time as 6:00 AM and they sighed “I'm not sleepy but thanks,” they uttered, walking away and I got up following them down the hall to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

I went into the bathroom to take a shower and brush my teeth, thinking about me and Y/n’s plans for today deciding that maybe we should go on a date, shopping and taking her to an arcade since she's been wanting to do that for a while, I thought smiling to myself. I left the bathroom and went into the kitchen where they were eating cereal. There was milk dripping down their chin when they looked up at me and I sat down across from her not bothering to wipe her chin because she was being childish.

 “You know,” they said after they swallowed their cereal, “I'm gonna hang with Mitsuya today, maybe go to the mall with him,” she said, playing with their spoon and my heart dropped. Why would she want to hang out with Mitsuya? “Why?” I asked, looking at her while trying to stay calm. “Well, I haven't spoken with him in a while and I would love to see him again,” she answered, getting up from the table and gently putting the cereal bowl in the sink, turning the water on and washing it. 

I get up, stretching my limbs before I walk over to where she was standing, coming beside her leaning on the counter. “Well I was thinking that maybe we could do something today,” I muttered, pulling her curls back gently, messing up their hair. “But if you insist on leaving me for Mitsuya all by myself, I can't stop  you, can I?” I whispered at this point waiting for the answer I was looking for. “Wait, I'll go with you today okay? Mitsuya can wait until tomorrow, I mean he wasn't expecting me anyways so it's not like he was waiting on me,” their words tumbled out of their mouth quickly as if to not disappoint me and I pulled her into a hug. “Oh really? That's awesome. Now go get dressed, we have a long day ahead of us,” I gently pushed her away towards the door, shooing her out, while opening my phone to check the time to see that it was 8:24 AM.

//FLASHBACK//

“DRAKEN-KUNNN!!!” Y/n yelled, grabbing the 9 year old's attention and he ran towards them thinking she had been injured but instead he found them with a water balloon in hand ready to launch it at him. “WAIT N-” he screamed but he was too late because the water balloon was already launched splashing him in ice cold water. He shivered as the water dripped off of him while they were roaming the streets. They couldn't go back to the building they lived in because they weren't allowed to go back until 9 PM and it was 7:10 which means Draken was gonna stay soaking wet until then. It's been a year but Draken couldn't get over Airashi’s disappearance and neither could the little girl as Airashi was like their mother, a parental figure even though she wasn't actually their mother they cared deeply for her. 

There was no telling when she was coming back and it hurt both of them deeply and left them wondering if she disappeared because of them. Sometimes Y/n would cry at night with Draken comforting her only for one of the women they were living with to tell them to shut up before they were beaten which made them shut up quickly but still she was hiccuping. Airashi impacted both of their lives in a deep way whether they knew it or not.

[braindeadmaggot]

Hiya! For the OP ask: #3. Favorite romantic ship with Shanks? And Vivi? Hawkins too? #4. Favorite platonic ship with Usopp? And Robin?

I will be answering both of these from my pov as a writer. As a reader, I will read anything and will give you a 10 star rating no matter the pairing. Always. I found a random ZoroxBuggy knife kink PWP years ago (that is lost forever because I can't remember the name) and it was awesome. I recommend it.

3. Favorite romantic ship with Shanks? And Vivi? Hawkins too? I like to believe that Shanks had a preteen, puppy love romance with Buggy. While Buggy may have always had feelings for Shanks, he never acted on it until they were 13 and had their first pints of ale, got drunk and Shanks noticed how Buggy always looks at him with dreamy eyes. Since then Shanks instigated all their interactions and urged Buggy to open up and explore each other more. When the crew disbanded Shanks grew up and met new people, leaving Buggy behind to pine for him; begrudgingly so. It's one of the reasons why Buggy's so pissed off at Shanks now as adults. Of course Buggy got over it and no longer has feels for Shanks, not in the last decade or so, but getting over him was NOT easy especially when it wasn't even in his agenda to get under him, that was all Shanks' doing.

Shanks is now married to Makino and they have a baby boy together. I haven't seen Film Red yet, as it has not yet been released to the public, but whoever the fuck Uta is, she is not canon and I will be viewing this film as a very expensive fanfiction. Just like HP and the cursed child. She ain't real.

With Vivi, I do enjoy reading her shipped with Ace (there's this one fic I read ages ago that I can't find again, I thought it was Water Sector but alas I was wrong) but in my own writing Ace is with Smoker and only Smoker. Vivi: I don't mind her with Koza, I think she might actually marry him one day in canonverse... maybe. I like the idea of her with Nami, just not sure if i can write that. I mean literally I can, but I don't know if I can write it well. My heart's not in it just yet. I noticed when color coding names, Vivi's partners are all orange. It's fate

Hawkins... This is hard. When HAK (Hawkins/Apoo/Kid) alliance first came up, I immediately shipped him with Apoo. Why? Because rule 34 that's why. Like, I had it aaaall planned out. The meet cute, the debacles, the inconveniences, the second meet cute, all of it. It was like a Hallmark movie where Hawkins was a 30+ year old head strong business person that moved to a small town on a whim in the milk of autumn and met an eccentric local that pissed him off every which way and what, but they had exactly one, count it, ONE thing in common and now they're madly in love. Hawkins and Apoo..... Why did I do this? I don't even remember what it was anymore!! Wano arc came and *spoilers* the bitches were bitches and now I hate them Fuck their love, they can die alone.

That being said, ship Hawkins with his black cat mink crew member Faust because fuck it I don't care anymore. Joey Jordison looking bastard can go to hell (this makes me so sad because I fucking love Joey Jordison so fucking much. RIP #1)

4. Favorite platonic ship with Usopp? And Robin? Usopp is technically in a platonic relationship with everyone accept Kaya. But if we want to get into the could-have-been relationships, first off is Nami. I like to think she fell in love with the nerd some time after Little Garden or Drum but he shot her down and she was hurt for a while but got over it. I can kind of see her in a Shakky/Rayleigh type marriage with Luffy, but that's more like a "I'm your wife so you better listen to me" kinda thing because someone needs to be able to legally control the rubber idiot and also she gets 50% of everything he has so it's also an investment. But this isn't about Nami!!

Second chb is with Sanji. I love seeing SanUso art and they look so great together. In a perfect world I think SanUso could definitely be a strong and healthy thing, but this is One Piece and not a single thing is even remotely healthy about anything.

Third (and fourth) chb is if Usopp had stayed behind on Water 7. Franky joined Luffy and left, leaving Usopp all alone with no one on a completely new island. No friends, no Merry; nothing. He probably would have started working for Iceburg and became Paulie's apprentice. His ship designs would be highly sought for and he more than likely would have invented a lot of stuff of the yagara bulls and he also probably would have a Sogeking statue somewhere like how the dwarves have a Noland bust in Tontatta Kingdom. The entire island would be his friends but the two people that would love him the most, and he would love the most would be Kiwi and Mozu. They're just a couple of years older than him (Kiwi was 20, Mozu 19 when they met SHP), they're Franky's backup dancers/little sisters, they know the ins and outs of the underworld and black market, AND they look like Banchina. HIS MOTHER. He would have followed them around like a lost puppy calling them "Big Sisses Big Sisses". They don't know why he looks that them weird sometimes, why he always makes sure they're comfortable and makes them tea, like, ALWAYS, all the time. TEA. He even has extra blankets out in case they get cold because one, his mom, and two, they wear bikinis everywhere. They might get cold. He'd subconsciously revert back to his 10 year old self talking care of his sickly mom, K&M would more than likely get fed up because A) they're older than him and B) not in their own house you treat them like little kids. It would be very awkward but in the end I think Franky Family would have turned into Usopp Pirates 2.0.

Robin's got a major broship with Zoro.

[thecandywrites]

Micro-mermaid Chenera Part 1

So, I know I'm, like two months late for Mermay, BUT. I had this amazing dream about micro-mermaids.

So hear me out- mermaids- half fish half human right? Deep sea mermaids/sirens would get HUGE to combat the pressure and stuff right? Well take it the other direction tiny pools in the amazon or the tropics, where we find guppies and betas and little very vibrant, very little fish but with a fantasy twist- micro-mermaids. Adults as big as your fingers, with kids and babies the size of your fingertips and finger nails, based on real fish, like betas, guppies, oscars, mollys, tetras and the like.

My mom ALWAYS kept at least one fish tank growing up, usually fresh water, one time she kept a brackish tank too, saltwater tanks were always too pricy for us BUT SO PRETTY TO STARE AT- AT THE FISH STORES. It's a life long hobby for her that she passed down to at least one of my sisters, my other sister is into guppies and betas almost exclusively and the different kinds and colors just within those two varieties are almost endless. And watching fish swim in a beautiful and healthy fish tank is documented to help out mentally and ease anxiety and even depression. Imagine what it would be like to have a tank of micro mermaids! Especially multiple kinds the way most will have multiple kinds of fish in a tank. I also got the idea from watching a documentary about how TINY little seahorses can be and of course My Little Mermaid- inner tween said 'tiny seahorse needs tiny micro-mermaid to ride it!' And of course seahorses especially are notoriously difficult to keep in captivity. If micro-mermaids were real, I'd imagine the same kind of thing. An expensive hobby that most would dump money into just for the privlidge of having their own wonder of nature.

And just like we have fish stores and fish breeders, think micro-mermaid breeders. Some are really good, others can be crappy, and this story follows a responsible, loving breeder, (more or less based on my mom who I love immesurably)

But me, being...well me, I can't write anything and not have a bit of angst, a good pinch of romance, eventual consentual smutty goodness and eventual happily ever afters. So...heads up.

Also since little fish tend to have shortened lifespans of only a few years, I'd imagine a micro-mermaid's lifespan would be similar in that they'd be shortened as well, so when you read cycles, that's in days. But also don't think of it as to the mermaids being years, if a micro-mermaid is 22 cycles, aka 22 days old, it's approxomately 11 years old in human terms so these guys are literally babies and kids when we meet them and get to watch them 'grow up' so to speak. So again, cycles=days divided in half= human years as point of reference.

But considering most merfolk in the ocean would live for who knows how long- if the average beta can live 2-5 years, lets say micro-mermaids can live to be 5-8 years old. Which compared to most little freshwater fish, is still, practically ancient. time passes differently for different beings, like dog years/human years/elven years kind of thing.

Cool? Cool. Let's dive in! (pun intended)

Micro-Mermaid

Chenera

Part 1

Ethel watched with baited breath from outside the glass as your parents gently used their billowy fins to circulate fresh oxygenated water across their eggs that had they laid in their small cave, made out of a large, fancy geode that Ethel had put into their tank to use as their cave to lay and hatch their young, the pockets of facets in the geode assisting to keep the eggs secure so that they would stay put and hatch successfully.

Ethel was a micro-mermaid breeder, and your parents were considered “royal chameleon” merfolk, a breed made special in that they could, like a chameleon, change their colors to suit their environment, but their fin structure and body confirmation was as if you crossed a beta with a mermaid, but in the micro scale, their large, billowy fins, long hair and plump bodies, an ethereal ideal for the subspecies.

And at a certain stage in their lives, she would put the adolescents into a much brighter colored tank, with things like hunks of gold and platinum and special rocks surrounded by color shifting fabrics on the outside of the glass so that the adolescents would always change into fancy, bright colors with precious metal accents and shifts of colors and special effects to their fins so that they could attract an equally colorful, healthy and vibrant mate and therefore, be worth much more on the market to enhance already immaculate genetics.

Ethel’s other tanks had schools of other micro mermaids of all kinds, from guppies, oscars, swordtails, molly’s, tetras and the like. Ethel was quite the collector and seemed to have every variety of micro mermaid both in nature and that could be bred in captivity and she was highly sought after in the industry because she treated each micro mermaid with the same tender loving care that she would treat her own children, if she had ever got to have them and her home might as well have been a mini aquarium since she ran one of the high end, micro-mermaid aquariums in the city and her home was where she bred the majority of her stock and her personal favorites that she was especially attached to.

Ethel preferred to sell mated pairs of micro-mermaids since micro mermaids preferred to mate for life but others preferred the “harem method” having a few females to a single male to get more clutches of eggs and thus, more micro-mermaids to sell since all the females could be laying clutches of eggs but that was usually harder on the female since she would have to care for the eggs mostly on her own since the male’s attention would be divided among all the clutches of eggs and even in the harem style, the male would prefer the company of his favorite and thus her eggs as well, and while that method got more micro-mermaids in volume, it usually always lacked in quality, the micro-mermaids would be slim, aggressively competitive and prey driven and would only live half as long, but wild caught micro-mermaids usually died before they could produce a clutch in captivity and capturing wild micro-mermaid clutches could be almost impossible since they usually hid them so well. Especially since male micro-mermaids could be very territorial once as mated adults. But before the mating process as adults, males could be housed together as kids and teens while in captivity.

Ethel had one particular tank though where she called it the “odds and ends” tank, where usually the last of her older micro-mermaids had clutches and died before the eggs could fully develop, where she would move the clutches into the large tank to be cared for by the community, something like an orphanarium for micro-mermaids that had a little bit of everything in it and to see so many varied individuals, and sometimes divided off into schools, it was one of her favorites to sit and watch and drink her tea.

She would even get clutches from other breeders, who would usually get overwhelmed or would run out of funds to keep the tanks going since micro-mermaids could be a very expensive hobby because they had a very specific and very demanding feeding and housing requirements depending on the subspecies, the salt water varieties being the most so. But in this particular room, was the “freshies”, she had other rooms in her house, the “brackies” or brackish water types, and her most coveted, the “salties” that room she kept under lock and key since the occupants of that room were worth thousands of dollars each and everything had to be controlled specifically and carefully.

Ethel usually had the laying and hatching process down to a meticulous science, she liked to keep her tanks at a specific temperature for the “incubation” process, where the eggs themselves would incubate at what Ethel had found over the years- was the “perfect” temperature so that almost all the eggs would hatch, the adults would be comfortable, but at the same time, the food she would put into the tanks to feed the micro-mermaids would not rot and attract flies or other scavengers who would try to fly into the house and prey not only on the mico-mermaid’s food but on the micro mermaids themselves.

You were one of the first to hatch, the egg’s shell breaking to allow you to break free as you squirmed out and into your father’s hands before he caught a few of your siblings who did the same before he cooed to you and greeted you happily as you opened your big eyes up at him and snuggled into his chest before he waited for your siblings to get their first and only milk from your mother, that would set up your gut to eat for a lifetime, before you were swapped out with your siblings and once you had your first milk, then you were brought up to the surface to get just a small breath of air so your air bladders would be filled and so you could navigate the whole tank easily before both of your parents touched your head, and the heads of all your siblings to the gold nugget in the tank so that all of you would have golden heads and hair, a trait that both your parents and Ethel prided themselves on.

It also served as a marker for which group you came from, your parents were the “gold standard” of the subspecies of beta-micro-mermaids. And other pairs had different metals or different colored stones so that each pair and their children would have that “mark” to signify which ones came from which parents for future breeding purposes, so that just by looks, they could decipher your genetics instead of having to go to the master gentics manual to decipher it all the time.

Now with the air in your air bladder and your first milk in your system, now your life fully began as you fully woke up and became conscious and thus wriggly and your siblings began exploring the tank as Ethel sprinkled in “baby bits” which was a composite of larve, krill, mackerel, anchovy, feeder-fish as well as algae as you and your siblings happily began “hunting” your first real meal, some of them using the surprise attack, whereas you and a few of your other siblings used the “stalking” method, hiding behind the roots and foliage of the plants at the top of the tank before you “pounced” and grabbed ahold of your favorite little bit and bit down into it, like a big loaf of bread that got softer to eat the more it was in the water as your tiny little teeth helping you eat it as you chewed it and held it between your two tiny hands and swam down back down to the bottom and sat in the soft sandy area, which was affectionately known as “the sand pit” with your other siblings who had hatched within the last few moments as your parents were busy helping the others that were hatching and repeating the process over and over until the whole clutch hatched.

“Well hello there beauties!” Ethel greeted as she waived with a big smile as you looked over and while your first instinct was to freeze and change into the color of your surroundings, to see your parents waiving back seemed to relax the rest of you.

“It’s ok, that’s Ethel, she’s the one who takes care of us and feeds us.” Your parents introduced before you used your tiny hands to waive back like your parents had as Ethel’s smile grew wider and more excited before she sprinkled in more “baby bits” for your siblings that would be hatching in the next few hours before she left and went to her other tanks to check up on the couples and the other clutches of eggs to repeat her process as she then tried to take notes of the other hatchlings and trying to count to see how many had hatched that day and once you were all full, you piled up in the silky soft sand to take your first rest from your first full day.

Since micro-mermaids aged quickly, it was only a few weeks and all of you had grown into playful rambunctious kids, swimming and chasing each other around the tank, building up strength and stamina, Ethel had turned the temperature of the tank down to a cooler temperature to incite your appetite and help you bulk up and gain a layer of fat over your buddening muscle and your parents had given all of you names to keep you accounted for as you learned language and all the various kinds of communication, at this point in time, all of you had the same gold heads and hair but could take on the colors of your surroundings so that some of you took on the sandy color of the “sand pit” or others had taken on the green color of the foliage of the plants that grew in the tank or the colorful geode and if it wasn’t for your gold heads, Ethel would have the hardest time finding any you in the tank besides your parent's who's colors for the most part had "fixed" into permanant colors. Your mother a colorful pearlescent, your father a striking metalic green, blue, purple and black.

The very few eggs that didn’t make it, your parents had given to Ethel to dispose of respectfully so as not to incite cannibalism and in the exchange you each got to touch Ethel's larger, but wrinkled hand and had carressed it as Ethel cooed at you, watching you all fondly and noting each one's unique colors and personality.

You had been one of the ones who liked to play in the foliage and plants at the top of the tank, often leaping out of the water to splash in the water at the top of the tank, a few times, hitting the lid, at first, it was on accident, then it was on purpose, to let Ethel know that you and your family were hungry as Ethel often chuckled at your antics when you would watch her make her rounds and feed the rest of the tanks.

“Who is keeping who here?” She would often chortle as she laid a few pieces of raw mackerel into the tank to watch your parents, you and your siblings, use little shards as "weapons" from the geode as well as little pieces of bones from previous meals to stab and attack the pieces and devour it, often having to fish out the bones out later with her little net. Micro-beta-mermaids had one of the most demanding and specific diets whereas the others wouldn't be so picky. But the better the food now, the better quality the micro-beta mermaid and better health and long life you would enjoy in later life. For Ethel, it was worth the money, time and effort to make sure each little being thrived the best they could.

Ethel's younger "adopted children" who she employed were more tech savy and had cameras set up on Ethel's most beautiful tanks with the more precious and prized occupants and set up a YouTube channel and live feed channels and seeing baby micro-mermaid babies hatch was always popular and Ethel's business boomed.

And while Ethel didn’t have children of her own, she seemed to adopt many who came into the micro-mermaid hobby and you saw many of the same people, most who worked for her would come and check up on Ethel on her days off and bring their children who often stared with big, starry eyes at you and your siblings as well as the others so that all of you got used to seeing different people so that when you would eventually be mated up, being moved into the store front wouldn’t be that big of a deal to you. It had been a tried and true method for Ethel for the last forty years and most followed her excelent example.

Then, one day, a small group fairies broke into the place and roused you from your sleep as you saw the glittering glows move around the room as you left the sleep pile in the sand pit to see what was going on and swam to the top and by now, you had grown big and strong enough to lift the lid as you cracked it open just enough to see better. But that seemed to be just what another was waiting for as you were grabbed and yanked from the tank as you screamed, all the water in your lungs splashing out as you watched in horror as other curious ones had also been yanked from their tanks and were being moved to a large plastic bag with hardly any water in it, as you squirmed and thrashed and took your little stone pick like blade that you always had tucked into the longer scales around your tailfin and stabbed at the vicious creature trying to fly you to the bag as the bag was picked up and several fairies were trying to fly it out of the house.

But your attempts to free yourself from it's grasp worked, it let you go and you thankfully landed onto the back of the other fairy, pick first so as to stab it by the heart, before you bounced off of it’s back into another lid of the tank, this tank being the odds and ends one, but the force of you hitting the fairy, bouncing off the fairy, and hitting the lid- shut the lid to keep anything else from getting in or out and had actually drowned the little vicious fairy trying to steal what it could from that tank and in the darkness, you swam until you felt the gravel of the bottom of the tank and swam until you found the deepest depression, under another cave and hid yourself in the darkness, using it’s dark nature to turn yourself as black as the night’s darkness itself, except for your gold head and hair which you used to hide in the deepest part of the little crevice like cave, moving the gravel around under it to make room for you to ball yourself into.

Come morning Ethel awoke to the horror to see that her home had come under attack as none of the micro-merfolk would come up from the bottom of the tank as she opened all the tanks and once opened the odds and end’s tank to see the drowned fairy floating on the top which caused rage to fill her as she knew that someone or something had incited the fairies of all beings to break in and steal her precious stock as she immediately tried to do some damage control and try to figure out who and what was taken as it seemed each tank had micro-merfolk-children missing because a full adult would have been too big and too strong to steal and would have drowned whoever or whatever might have tried to take them as she went to her other rooms, the brackish room was thankfully locked, but she could see little scratches and claw marks at the doors and especially around the saltwater room. But the freshies were in her livingroom and thus, open to the rest of the house, that’s why it got hit. Almost all the tanks were missing at least one child, the name of each child missing being written in the little bit of algae that had accumalated on the glass since the last cleaning as Ethel used a big magnifying glass to see it and then translate it from the merfolk's language as Ethel just kept crying, her tears streaking down her wrinkled and weathered face and falling onto her reading glasses.

Ethel offered her condolences to the families that lost little ones and made a memorial for the ones who had been taken and fed all the tanks a “funeral” meal, which was the most expensive and most comforting food she could as she made some calls to her friends and business partners and employees, as well as the police to see what could be done as soon the police arrived and detectives arrived along with all of Ethel's friends and neighbors came to give Ethel comfort as the police and investigators tried to document the break in and get statements from everyone about the theft and make notes so that Ethel, who had each and every single one of her micro-merfolk insured, could contact her insurance company and begin the claim process.

Meanwhile Nona had awoken to see a couple of his adopted siblings had been attempted to be taken but something had shut the lid on the fairy so their particular tank had survived from losing anyone. Although with it being the odds and ends tank, not much of really high value was in the tank to begin with. But looking out over to the other tanks in the room, he could see that the other tanks were mourning the loss of their own as the police were there, although they were finishing up the investigation and leaving with the drowned fairy and other pictures as proof of what had happened. But that also meant that they got a whole raw mackerel for the whole tank as everyone was feasting on it while he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, something gold - flashing, catching the light before it disappeared again.

He paused in eating and took off a hunk and went over to where he thought he saw the glint of gold and heard the gravel move under the cave before he got down on his belly and peered into the crevis under cave that was it's own little cave he supposed but he didn’t see anything but black but felt the most subtle pressure wave, as if something was moving around in the crevice under the cave. He took a chance and simply set the hunk of mackerel down at the mouth of the cave and went back a fair distance to see if anything would come out and take it and hid behind the base of one of the plants and waited a few long moments before he could just barely see a small glimmer of gold again, before a small, light sandy colored hand attached to a small goldish sandy colored arm reach out and grab the bit of mackerel before it quickly took it back into the crevice and he could have sworn he heard munching sounds of someone eating it.

He quickly went back to the whole mackerel and tried to swipe a larger piece and carry it back to the crevice and tore it into two pieces and laid one at the mouth again as he slowly chewed on the other half, only he didn’t swim away, instead he sat and tried to peer in to see what was in there before he saw a glimmer of gold then it quickly vanished.

It was definitely another micro-merperson. He just had never seen anyone like it before.

“Hello?” He called into the crevice but you were still too scared to venture any closer.

“Are you ok in there? Are you hurt? What’s your name?” He asked but instead you just tried to sink down into the darkness. The water was different in this tank. It didn’t smell or taste like home. It was foreign to you and you didn’t know what tank you had fallen into. You knew some micro-merpeople did not tolerate intruders and you were afraid that if you ventured out, you would be attacked, you were unarmed and only an elder child, you were no match for an adult or even subadult.

So instead, Nona finished his hunk of mackerel and gently used his colorful tail fin to push the rest of it into the crevice before you took the offered piece and ate that too, not knowing when you would get another chance to eat again.

“See? I’m not gonna hurt you. But I just really want to know if you’re ok. Are you’re ok in there?” Nona asked worriedly as he came in and you backed up as far as you could and tried to make yourself as small as you could, folding up your own billowing fins as small as they could be before he came in and started gently grasping around the crevice for you.

“It’s ok, I promise it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.” Nona tried to reassure you as his fingertips grazed your fin and you quickly dove to another corner of the crevice to get away from him, but your movement caused the little bit of light to glint of your golden head and the shimmering black of your body as you moved and Nona could hear your labored breathing as he felt the water move around as you moved and settled again before he found the back of the cave and stretched out his hands as wide as he could and began to go forward again before you dove for the other corner on the other side, this time your outline was shown against the light coming in from the mouth of the crevice and all Nona saw was gold from your head, down your hair before it flowed into a shimmering pitch black again before Nona realized that you were no bigger than he was, in fact you were a little smaller than him and the scent on the water told him you weren’t from this tank, from another but he couldn’t recognize the scent because a clutch had never come into this tank from yours before. You were a kid, obviously from another tank, you must have been dropped in by the fairy, having grabbed you from another tank and trying to grab a second from his own tank.

“My name is Nona, and I’m 22 cycles old and we’re in the odd’s tank. You’re ok, you’re safe, no one is going to hurt you, not in this tank. Ethel’s really good about if there are any bullies, she pulls them out and puts them in the bully tank. You are not in the bully tank so you’re safe. I promise you, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t hurt you and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you either.” Nona tried to reassure you as he came forward again as he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of your breathing and even he could feel your fast heart rate pulse in the small crevice’s water, this time his hands forming an open reaching motion before his hands settled on your face and jaw before he opened his eyes to see two gold ones blinking back at him rapidly as he could feel your fast heart rate stay fast before it eventually started to slow before he chanced a small swipe of his thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he just stared in awed wonder at you before you finally broke down and flung yourself at him and pinned him down onto the floor of the crevice, clinging to him and crying.

“It was awful, I saw all these pretty moving lights, it was glowing and glittering like the jewels do only it was from on the outside and I swam up to the top of the tank and once I did I was yanked out of the water and my mother always told me to keep a weapon in my tail so I took it and I stabbed at it as much as I could and it dropped me and I hit another fairy and I lost my blade and I fell down and I could feel the other monster that was at the top begin to drown but I just dove down and tried to find the safest spot I could but I didn’t know what tank I’m in and I thought I was in one of the shark tanks and I thought if I left, I was gonna get eaten!” You wailed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and comforted you.

“Do you know what tank you’re from?” He asked.

“No, I just know that my parent’s names are Avarian and Miralia.” You shook your head no.

“Ok, well I’m sure when Ethel cames back for dinner, once she sees you, she’ll know which tank to return you too so you can be with your family.” Nona consoled you.

He had never felt another mergirl’s hair as soft as yours, it was like it was softer than anything he had ever felt before, or felt one who was so young to have hair so as long, it went to your tail and usually only the elder micro-mermaids had hair that long but they kept it in braids to keep it from being tangled. But you were also a bit heavier than most girls would be at your age and your fins were bigger than his! He was a delta guppy micro-merman himself, known for their massive and colorful tails but his own was dwarfed by yours.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked again.

“Chenera.” You sniffled.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Chenera, like I said, my name is Nona.” He repeated.

“Do you know how old you are?” He asked

“I think only 19 cycles, 20, counting today.”

“Ok, so you’re younger than me.” Nona realized.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’re not hurt or anything?” He asked again.

“I am.” You finally admitted as you could already tell there was bruising all over you and scratches from that vicious fairy’s claws.

“Ok, well do you want to go to the healer or do you want the healer to come to you?” He asked.

“Can they come here? I don’t want to leave.” You admitted.

“Ok, well, stay here then, and I’ll go get them, I’ll be right back ok? Two flicks of a tail.” He reassured you before he gently eased you off of him before you curled in on yourself in the darkness and he got out and raced towards the eldest merperson in the tank, who was especially inept at healing magic.

“I found someone.” He said as he tugged on her arm as she sat and ate the head of the mackerel, the best part of the fish.

“Found who?” She asked.

“The fairy that drowned in our tank, trying to steal the little ones, it was carrying another from another tank, she got away and hid under the big cave where we keep the half clutches. She got really hurt. Her body is all puffy.

“If she’s a goldfish micro- her body should be a little puffy.” She argued.

“She’s not like any other goldfish micro. She’s something I’ve never seen or smelled before.” He insisted.

“She’s hurt, she’s scared, she’s younger than me by a few cycles, she’s in the wrong tank and thinks if she leaves, she’s gonna get eaten. It took a lot just for me to get her to talk to me. Her name is Chenera, and she doesn’t know what tank she’s from. All she knows is her parent’s names. She says she’s hurt, she needs you.” Nona pleaded desperately.

“Ok, ok, I’m coming, I’m coming.” She finally relented before Nona practically dragged her to the mouth of the crevice.

“She must be a young one to fit inside here.” The elder- Thya noted.

“Chenera, I have the healer here, but she can’t fit in there, can you just come to the mouth of the cave so she can see you?” Nona asked before he stuck his upper body inside.

“It’s ok, she’s not going to eat you.” Nona reassured you.

“Here, I wouldn’t introduce you to anyone dangerous. Take my hand, it’s going to be ok.” Nona encouraged as he reached his hand out to you before you tentatively took it and he gently guided you to the mouth before you stuck your head out, your long golden hair suddenly picking up the cross current and being taken away in that.

“Oh my gills.” Thya murmured in awe.

“Hey Chenera was it? Hi, I’m Thya, I’m the eldest mermaid here and the healer of the tank, can you show me what hurts?” She asked.

“My head, and my back and, my arms, and most of my tail, just, everything.” You answered as you looked from her to Nona, back to her worriedly.

“Nona, go get Abaria and Fonta, she’ll need a mother’s touch.” Thya urged Nona but your tightened your grip on his hand ,kept him from going.

“Here darling, take my hand, let him go get some more help, he’ll be right back ok?” Thya offered as she offered her own hand to you before Nona simply put his hand next to hers so it wouldn’t take much for you to let go of him and hold onto her before you hesitantly transferred your hand from Nona’s to hers before he quickly swam away again and came back with three mother looking figures, the two Thya suggested and his own.

“Oh you poor thing! Did that vicious fairy drop you into here?” Abaria asked as she came and sat closest to you as the other mothers crowded around you as you nodded.

“Well you’re in the best tank in the place, we’re all found family here. No one is going to hurt you here. It’s ok to come out. Or are you too hurt to come out?” They asked.

“Come here darling. It’s ok. I know you must miss your mom something awful, but until we get you sorted out, I’m adopting you and I can be your mom until you’re reunited with your other one ok?” Abaria offered before you looked from Abaria back to Nona.

“She’s one of the best moms in the tank besides my own. She’s mom to most of the kids in the tank and she takes care of everyone like she laid the eggs herself.” Nona reassured you before you hesitantly crawled out of the crevice as the others scooted back so that all of you could come out.

“My goodness, how did all of you fit in there?” Thya asked once you were out and your fins unfurled. You had bigger fins than the adults even.

“Like this.” You contracted all your fins until it was just your body and a thin folded fin was behind you.

“You’re a plump little thing aren’t you?” Fonta noted.

“Not any more than any of my siblings, we’re all shaped like this.” You defended, unfurling your fins to cover yourself- self consciously as you pouted under her scruitinging.

“Well that’s good, that means that you and your siblings are well cared for and are fed well. And with a head like yours but a body like yours, it’s hard to know what tank you’re from.” Abaria sighed with an apologetic smile as she pet your head, feeling your silky soft hair before the other kids came around to curiously look to see you, all of them of different ages, some as young as three cycles and some as old as 30, one of the oscar-micro-mermaids, who was 27 cycles, already seeing all he needed to see, you were, in his opinion, the prettiest girl in the tank, therefore, you were going to be his future mate as the other girls in the tank looked at you with both weary suspicion, jealousy and a bit of pity because you clearly didn’t belong in the tank and with as black as you were form the chest down, you stuck out like a sick fin, but with a head and hair like gold, it was still a beautiful combination.

“Who’s that?” They asked.

“The fairy that attacked us last night, took her from her home tank and dropped her in here while they were trying to steal you guys.” Thya answered them.

“She didn’t fall from the fairy that came into our tank, she fell from way higher, like another was carrying her from way higher, she hit the fairy, hit them into the water, bounced off of their back, hit the lid and made the lid close and drowned the fairy, she saved us.” The kids that had been involved offered.

“Oh my gils, is that what happened?” They asked you as you nodded yes as Thya used the glowing of her hands to highlight all your bruises and cuts so that most of body glowed blue from injuries before she went through and healed each one, and noticed that the black then took on a midnight blue appearance, which she had never seen before and puzzled everyone around you.

“Oh you poor baby, come here.” Abaria gathered you into her arms and comforted you, and held you to her chest and gently rocked you comfortingly once your upper body was healed while Thya worked on your tail.

But sadly, Ethel left to go to work before the others could grab her attention. You spent the rest of the day talking to Thya and Abaria about what your tank looked like and what the names of your siblings were as it was clear to them that you were one of the more ‘special’ tanks but because of your coloring, you didn’t look like any of the other tanks that they could see from there.

By night time, though, the automatic feeders fed all the inhabitants of all the tanks and then not long after, the lights shut off, signalling it was time for bed.

But when Ethel came home late, the movement of her and her using the flashlight in her phone to make her way to her bedroom, was too much like the fairy’s light as you quickly squirmed out of the sleep pile and dove for that crevice again, hiding away as she passed and went to bed herself but once again, you were scared of coming out.

Your squirming had caused Nona to wake up again since he was nestled close to you, his hand in yours as his own instincts told him to stay put on the bottom of the tank until the light passed by but when he looked over to see where you had been sleeping with Abaria, her mate and their brood, you were gone but he had a feeling he’d know where to find you.

But the thought of sleeping on the gravel instead of the soft sand just hurt him to think about, so he swam around and collected bits of moss and leaves so he would cover the inside of that crevice so you would have a comfortable place to sleep for the night at least.

“Chenera,” Nona whispered when he came closer.

“Nona?” You asked as your head peeked out and saw him.

“A cave under a cave surrounded by gravel is no place to spend the night. Here, all this should make it a little more comfortable at least.” He offered what he had collected before you smiled gratefully at him, your white pearly teeth and golden head a sharp and beautiful contrast to the darkness before he passed each thing to you before you had Nona come in and help you to move even more of the gravel out of the way and dig down so that there was a deeper and more comfortable depression inside before Nona and you set the leaves down first and used the moss to make something of pillow before you laid down and refused to let go of Nona’s hand.

“Can you please stay here with me?” You asked, your big golden eyes too much for him to resist, even at his relatively young age before he laid down beside you, keeping himself between the mouth of the crevice and you as you cuddled into his chest, your fins wrapping around him as his’ tried to wrap around you in turn as he used his arm as your pillow as your hair was almost like a blanket for both of you as your colors changed again, a dark emerald, shimmering green now with black and gold as you settled down before he soon felt you relax completely and fall asleep before he did the same.

[brideofcthulhu10]

Next up on our list my lovelies is Paul! A special thank you to @trescharmant-mydear for helping me with brainstorming ideas when writers block had me stumped! I hope you fang babes all enjoy the next boy in our child birth saga!

Lost Boys Fem!S/O Gives Birth [2/4]

Paul

The whole pregnancy thing was undoubtedly a massive shock when you had finally told him. At first he wasn’t even sure it was his. Granted you slugged him for even suggesting you had been having an affair but he couldn’t help it! The idea of impregnation was pretty much impossible as far as they knew. He had no heartbeat, the blood in his veins was dead and black, he kind of assumed by that point his gun was shooting blanks. That is until you began rejecting anything that wasn’t blood or meat. Every day he could see more of that reality coming into play. At first he thought maybe he had just imagined it, but when your stomach grew in really sank in. 

 He was terrified beyond belief knowing he’d soon be responsible for a living, breathing thing- er baby- guh! The word freaked him out. No one even warned him what came with it. Well, Dwayne tried to but those books were nasty. Especially the pictures. Paul tried his best to sit through them but it just stressed him out! There wouldn’t be a doctor! There would be no sterilized hospital bed where a team of nurses would be on standby if there were complications- hell, they wouldn’t be able to know if there even were any complications! That’s what scared him more than anything. You both were utterly in the dark. Were you healthy? Was the baby healthy? Could this kill you if they weren't careful? Ultrasounds were out too, so he couldn't even know if it was a boy or a girl. The uncertainty of it all was torture!

The only way he knew they were still alive was from his own bizarre connection to them. Sure his mental powers were never as clean cut as David’s, but he could still feel their emotions inside you. It was raw. There were no clear thoughts. Even the emotions would pile over each other. Hungry, tired, anxious, hyper, mad, happy. It was almost like there was more than one consciousness in there, but he just figured it was your own heartbeat and emotions clouding the baby's.

Hormones were wild between you both. You wanted sex more than you ever had before, and at first he was all for it. Being the mother of his unborn child brought out a desire that was utterly foreign to him. Yeah he loved you to death before, but now… he couldn't keep his hands off of you. The first few months it was wild, but the bigger you got the more worried he was that something could happen if he lost control. Okay, well, as long as he was careful right? But, things did not go exactly to plan when a firm kick pressed on his erm… Needless to say it certainly freaked him out. Then came the morning sickness.

Fuck whatever liar came up with that name. “Morning”? Try morning, noon, night, and the ass crack of dawn. Twenty-four seven. He hated seeing you hugging a trash bin, panting between excruciating heaves that made your stomach spasm. Paul could only hold your hair back while you gurgled out sobs. It was even harder knowing he was partially responsible for putting you in this position to begin with. Afterwards he’d carry you back to your bed. Yeah, bed. All the guys had felt that you needed something way better than a couch to crash on. There were more pillows and blankets than you could count. Piles on the bed, scattered on the floor, stacked up in the corners. With a bit of searching they’d found a pocket-cave branching just off their own that kept you out of sight and even better, nearby. What Paul really couldn’t account for was how frickin’ clumsy you were! 

Oops you just banged your knee! Well looks like you accidentally nicked your hand while peeling a freaking apple! Paul nearly ripped a guys head off for bumping into you on the boardwalk just to cut in line with his stupid friends. Eventually he just refused to leave your side during the second trimester when he found a bruise on your stomach. You didn’t have the heart to tell him those were from the baby kicking. While the guys went hunting he’d just lay beside you in bed gushing over your taut belly. The baby always stirred when he spoke, even more so when he’d serenade them. His voice always made your face heat up, and inside you could feel your child eagerly pressing up. While Paul was certainly uneasy about his encroaching parenthood he was over the moon the first time the baby really kicked. Even if it seemed scary he was so excited he could hardly sleep most nights. Every day he'd wonder when they'd get here, bombarding you with thousands of questions.

"Do you think they'll have your eyes? I bet if it's a boy he'll be a bad ass like his dad, huh," he asked. There was almost a glee to his voice, it was so adorable to watch him shed that panic for just a moment to fantasize about the baby. Anything. Teaching them to play guitar, taking them on their first hunt. He didn't care if it was a boy or girl. Part of you really hoped it'd be a little girl. 

“They probably won’t get any eye color until the fifth month I think,” you’d remind him, flipping through the aged pages of a baby book. "I do know if it is a boy he's gonna be so much like you."

"Unless it's a girl," he pondered, tapping your belly like it was an over ripe melon, watching it stirr with life. "Oh god you'll break so many hearts. But no boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Only dad."

"Babe thats not gonna be for years," you assured, petting his head. "You can't keep them from dating when they're old enough."

"Uh, the fuck I can't," he retorted, his hand kicked again. "Yeah I said it. No dating for you"

As they grew you could feel something was.. Off. Granted you couldn’t do much to check but, it almost felt like there was more than one heartbeat...

Your due date was slowly rolling closer as summer shed it's long, hot days for the chilled season of autumn. Tonight was a late, stormy October night. Most of Santa Carla was holed up at home hoping it wouldn’t rain tomorrow on Halloween. Paul grumbled slurping at a blood bag laying on his side as he propped his head on his hand, currently bored out of his mind while you carved at a pumpkin with Marko. 

“I think it needs more teeth,” you’d say to yourself out loud.

Marko peeked over, titling his head to the side. “More eyes too.”

All the guys decided to stay back tonight. It wasn’t just the rain, all of them were nervous to leave you alone. None of them were doctors, but even they could tell your stomach was much bigger than expected. Dwayne was flipping through an old book while David had just gotten back from a hunt. 

Ever since you hit your third trimester each of them took turns gathering blood. A few blood bags alone would not cover it for four hungry vampires and an honorary vamp who had a ton of cravings. Instead they'd carry four or five empty milk jugs that'd be filled to the brim with sloshing, goopy red fluid. 

"Guys, you oughta go get something to eat, you don't need to watch me twenty-four seven," you insist, carefully dragging the knife through the thick gourd's flesh. 

"This wasn't up for debate last time, it’s still not now," David retorted, tossing one of the jugs Dwayne's way. Marko caught a second one, eagerly knocking back a swig. The sight made you want to throw up again. It was slow, like a thick molasses dyed crimson with globs of congealed plasma. Okay looking at the pumpkin again before you had to puke. 

"Don't worry about us, Y/N," Marko insisted with red stained teeth, tossing the now half empty jug to Paul. "It's only a few more months. Blood is blood."

Paul stood up, swooping behind you with his arms around your shoulders. "Speakin' of blood kitten, you need to eat." You looked at the jug as he set it on the table and immediately scrunched up your nose. Now, it'd been seven and a half months of drinking it, so you'd gotten used to the bizarre taste of salty, vinegary cherries with a metallic aftertaste. It always made your body heat up, the feeling itself was better than any booze you'd tried. But the texture. Oh god the fricking texture! Blobby, goopy, slimy- no! 

"Uuuugh," you hesitated, only to have Marko push it towards you. “Can’t I just have a raw steak or something, it’s not nearly as gnarly as straight blood.”

"Don't be picky, you need to eat."

You glanced back at Paul who was just pouting behind you. "Come on babes, drink up."

Once again. Thick, soupy but warm fluids ran down the back of your throat. Everything felt heated, spreading from your stomach to each of your limbs. This time you felt an ache in the base of your abdomen. It was enough to incite a small gasp. And with that suddenly each of them had sat up. 

"What's wrong, what's going on," Paul quickly asked, placing a hand over your stomach. 

Marko had stood up, looking at you with a furrowed brow. "Is it-?"

"Guys, guys," you interrupt. "I'm okay, I swear. It was just a cramp."

It wasn't even a surprise when Paul lifted you up again bridal-style. "Paul,c’mon, I’m fine, really."

"Nope, nope I am not even risking that shit babes. C'mon kitten I'll lay with ya," he insisted, kicking anything on the floor out of his way. But again it ached. This time it lasted two minutes. You clung to him, trying to take a breath. This wasn’t your average false contraction that would only occur maybe every hour. "Paul- Paul it's not stopping."

"Wait wait wait what," Paul asked in rapid following, gently setting you down. Marko had gotten up to help you stand with Paul on the other side. A sharp pain wrapped around your waist. Now another two minutes. It was enough to make you double over with your hands over your stomach. 

"Shit oh shit wait hold on." Paul was in a panic. He wasn't ready! The baby wasn't supposed to be there for another month! It was too soon! 

You, on the other hand, were far too busy trying to keep yourself standing. It wasn't just your abdomen. It was your stomach, all the way up your back, your womb felt like it was being torn open from inside. Dwayne jumped over the sofa when the two blondes failed to move, lifting you up. Your jeans were soaked, sharp pains were faster, harder, any time another contraction squeeze you let out an agonized cry. 

They all made a mad dash for your room, propping you up against a pile of pillows. "No,  no wait, don't look," you insisted to the others as Paul tried to help you get your soggy jeans off.

"I'm about to help you push a baby out, and you're getting embarrassed by us seeing your underwear," Dwayne questioned

"Shut up, turn your fuckin head," Paul snapped. Carefully he draped a blanket over your legs, pulling off your jeans. There was utter fear across his face. He was so afraid of what this could do to you.

 "Hey.. its okay," you assured him, cupping his face. Well, okay was a bit of an overstatement. Still, the tender touch seemed to provide some small ease as he placed his hand over yours. Again, you assured him it'd all be okay. Marko came running in with a bucket of warm water, David was grumbling about carrying over a mountain of towels, Dwayne leaned over Paul tapping him hard on the back of his shoulder. "Paul you need to check how dilated she is."

"WHAT?"

It was time for both of you chiming in disbelief. "No no, wait Dwayne man, I can't-!"

"If she pushes before she's ready, the baby will get hurt in the process," he interrupted him, grabbing Paul by his shoulders. "You gotta do it, man, I can't do it for you."

"The fuck, why me?!"

"Paul?!" It was your turn to question his logic and the blonde threw up his hands, clutching at his head trying to think.

"I'm sorry! I'm panicking!"

"Dude Paul," Marko shouted.

"What?!"

"Listen, man, this can't be good for either of them. Nut up, dude," he assured him, patting his back. Paul looked at you, still trembling on your bed. You were just as scared as him, bottom lip trembling, he could even see your shoulders shaking. "...okay…" 

The feeling was so uncomfortable. You couldn't even focus between the throbbing pains that shot up your back and the tearing pull between your legs. Tears burned your eyes, you thought you might pass out. Marko was rapidly wiping away sweat from your face, letting you hold his hand. Even if you broke it, unlikely, it'd heal in an hour anyways. 

"Okay how many fingers can you manage," Dwayne asked, getting a strange look from Paul. "Just tell me how many, you asshole.:

"It's like, all my fingers man I dunno what that means."

"Go to her man, I got this," he assured, pushing him up to you. Paul climbed up on the bed beside you holding you tightly in his arms with your shoulder nestled against his armpit with one arm over your shoulder and the other you immediately snatched his hand, panting rapidly. "Shh slow down baby, slow down."

"God it fucking hurts," you whine, throwing your head back on the pillow. Blood stained the bed, a thick pink-red spot on the blanket spreading out. Your face was completely flushed as a tight pressure slowly dragged down your back that made your toes curl. If Paul wasn't pinning you in place you would be writhing. There was a horrid fire in your body, there were no words left in you, only screams. Dwayne's urges to push were muffled, the ache in you back slowly pulled lower until you were able to hear them. A thick gurgle followed by high pitched, raspy wailing. While Dwayne had pulled the infant into a thick, fluffy towel something felt wrong. It still hurt. Your stomach felt no relief, in fact you felt it pull and ache again. "Wa...wait i.. no it's-it's not done, I'm not done," you whimper in a panic.

"Wait what the hell do you mean you aren’t done?! I thought there was just one?!”

Paul looked over at Dwayne, who in turn ran to David and passed the swaddled newborn his way much to his dismay. “Just hold them for a minute man, we weren’t exactly expecting more!

“I got it,” Marko volunteered, climbing off to bed to hold the baby carefully in his grasp. Your screams tore through, a second wave of pain reviving old agony. There was little relief as the same horrid tension in your back spread out. Paul coaxed you through it, but somehow it hurt even worse than before.

“No,” you cried, shaking your head. Your face burned, tears streaming down your face leaving your vision completely blurry. “No no no, I can’t, let me go! I can't, I can’t! Paul, I can’t-!”

“Baby, listen you can do this! You got this, yes you fucking do,” he yelled over you holding your head to his shoulder. “Listen to me. C’mon you fucking got this, kitten! Don’t you give up, don’t you dare fucking give up now!”

With everything you had you screamed until your throat felt raw, pushing as hard as you could until finally, finally… it stopped. A huge wave of relief made your muscles go limp. Two. You just had given birth. To twins. The realization had finally hit Paul asw he looked up at Marko still holding his first born. “Are they…”

“Dude, you got a girl,” he beamed, carefully passing the swollen new born half-awake clinging to the towel. Occasionally her grey eyes squinted open, making trembling whimpers until she nestled back into sleep.

You managed to catch your breath, Marko helping you lay down while Dwayne circled around with your son. A boy too. You couldn’t help but laugh through tears, finally able to see his face after so many months of waiting. Paul couldn’t even hold back tears, laughing like an idiot as he pulled you both in his arms. “Fuck man… oh shit I’m a fucking dad,” he choked out, trying to hide his tears.

“Let it out man,” Marko teased, patting his shoulders.

“Shit man I can't stop crying... they’re so perfect.” Paul ran a hand gently over his son’s head still softly crying in your arms, watching him soothed as he clung to his finger. He looked you in the eyes, both of you just in utter awe that you brought not one, but two lives to the world. Nothing but tears and smiles between you. It was October 31st, 2 am, and you had spent the past four and a half hours of Hell to bring your twins (Girl Name) and (Boy name). Paul could not even fathom the amount of love he was feeling, trailing kisses all over your lips and cheeks. “Happy Halloween, kitten.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, laying your head back against his chest just unable to tear your eyes away from your beautiful new family after so many hours of grueling pain, so much waiting, in the end it was worth more than either of you had ever dreamed.

 “Happy Halloween, babe…”

[howdoyousleep3]

I can't stop thinking about how you'd handle a Baby Bucky and Daddy Steve combo who are both SUPER into feminization. I need Daddy Steve directing Bucky, having him naked and rubbing off against his special pillow like the pretty little girl he is, all sorts of pretty loving language with a wee bit of humiliation and loads of feminization. maybe Steve's right there or away via skype or whatever but they both LOVE IT and its just some of their favorite play!

Hi hi hi okay so I have one hell of a theory that I couldn’t stop thinking about today and had to come back to this one because I’m feeling soft af:

Sometimes Bucky wants to be softer and prettier and a little more feminine, wakes up in a different headspace and wants to act on it so he does

He loves baths in this headspace, loves to fill the tub up to the brim with bubbles and bath milk that smells like peaches (still repping this until the day I die) and he soaks in it and washes his hair and Steve knows that Bucky wants this time alone so he doesn’t disturb him but lays Buck’s pretty little feel-good clothes out on the bed for him when he gets a whiff of the peach scent

Bucky miiiiiiight put on a coat of mascara and some lip gloss, brushes his hair and lets it go natural and curly, puts on the softest, sheerest, prettiest light colored (pink?) panties and tank top 

He blushes profusely when Daddy greets him in that sweet deep voice, pulls him into his arms and holds onto him, kisses the top of his head, asks how his Princess is doing

Oh man, what a day of pampering, amiright? Bucky being in this kind of mood doesn’t happen too often so Steve makes sure to make the most of it: cooks for Bucky and feeds him himself, doesn’t let the younger lift a finger, plays with his hair, lets him snuggle in close while they watch Great British Baking Show

Bucky definitely takes a nap

One of the most important parts of this day is that sexual piece, is the part Bucky looks forward to the most, is kind of how he sends off this headspace

Steve will carry him to bed and Bucky will know what this means, what’s about to happen, and he’ll already be a little whimpery, soft noises coupled alongside a little gentle, a little frantic kisses on Daddy’s neck and cheek and jaw

“You know where your pillow is, honey? Yeah? Y’wanna go get it for Daddy?”

Things always start off slow, Bucky feeling a little more fragile and vulnerable, Daddy laying him out and leaning over him, finger under his chin, soft soft soft kisses 

Bucky would start to stir in his panties, a little more breathless than normal, voice a little high, “Daddy...Daddy, p-please?” but Steve ignores him, wants to make sure Bucky is good and ready, all riled up, soaking

Daddy sometimes eats him out when Bucky is in this headspace, slow and erotic and intense, eye contact and stroking hands and Daddy’s tongue and lips working him over

He opts to not do that this time, rolls Bucky onto his front, kisses down his back as he presses his boy’s special pillow under his raised hips, knows that he needs the guidance from Daddy as much as possible, already floating a tad

Daddy lays down next to him, so so close, hand running down his back, over the curve of that peach of an ass, presses hard on Bucky’s bottom 

“Come on, sweetness, show Daddy what you use this pillow for...”

And Bucky is whining, just soft little noises, grunts and whimpers, his hips stuttering and rolling, tends to be a little shy when he starts doing this, needs more of Daddy’s encouragement 

“Ohh, so sweet, doll so sweet aren’t ya? Just the sweetest lil’ thing. Look at you humpin’ this pillow, no no no, baby--Daddy loves it, loves watchin’ you.”

And Daddy’s hands feel so good on his body, his lips on Bucky’s cheeks and his shoulder, tipping his chin up for a few sweet kisses until Bucky sticks his fingers in his mouth, his arms underneath his chest, hips rolling and pressing into his pillow and he floats a little more when Daddy whispers--

“S’that feel good rubbin’ on that little pussy, sugar?”

“Oh, I bet it does, I bet it does. You’re all achy and wet aren’t ya, baby? Yeah? You want Daddy to help? A’course, princess--I’d love to help.”

And then Daddy has his hand down Bucky’s panties, hand grabbing at his ass before there are fingers rubbing at his little hole, two of them, and Bucky’s noises turn into gargled ones, eyes barely open as he messily pumps his hips some more into his special pillow

“Just the prettiest thing aren’t ya, Buck? So special, my sweet little kitten, s’that feel good? Ohh, baby I know feels so good, y’so wet. You gonna make a mess of your panties? More than you already have? Y’gonna make that pretty pussy come?”

And Bucky is mewling and drooling around his own fingers, presses down into the softness of the pillow and relishes in the pressure, presses back onto Daddy’s fingers and relishes in that push, Daddy’s telling him, “Eyes on me, Buck” and Daddy knows he’s gonna come before Bucky even does

“Cream those panties, sugar, come on there ya go do it for Daddy, there it is, oh so messy, baby oh that little pussy is shakin’...”

Bucky does his best to keep his eyes open and on Daddy, always tries, but it’s so hard when they’re rolling back into his head, so hard when he feels so good, when he’s trying to control his hips and not gag around his own fingers

It always makes Bucky subby brain float a little, being in this precious headspace, always gets sent a little more when Daddy’s voice is still in his ear telling him how good he is, Daddy’s princess, feeling the older man rub against his ass, the feel of his fist bumping Bucky’s cheeks as it pumps over his cock

Bucky doesn’t even realize he giggles and sighs some when Daddy shoots all over his ass, dirties him up some more, groans into his shoulder, neck 

Just like there is a process for entering this special place, there are steps taken to bring Bucky back

Daddy lets him float some more, plays with his hair and showers his soft skin in sweet kisses, is there when Bucky comes back down, a little embarrassed but Daddy won’t allow that, makes the younger look up at him as he repeats a few times how much he loves his sugar bear, makes Bucky say it back as well

Steve carries Bucky to the bathroom, cradles him against his chest, peels his dirty panties and top off of his form, pulls him into the shower, steamy and soapy and tender, scents and release and headspace swirling down the drain under the stream of water 

Every time they do this, they share these moments, Bucky gets some level of emotional about how lucky he is to have someone like Steve in his life. Sometimes it’s just needing a few extra kisses, sometimes it is curling up in Steve’s arms on the shower floor to cry it out 

This time it’s a few tears, still fragile, Steve holding him and washing his hair, big fingers digging into his skull to relax the younger man 

Bucky is so lucky to have Daddy in his life

Steve is so lucky to have his sweet boy in his life

Too soft, what happened, I’m so sorry must be my mood waaaaaaaaaah. Love you, Anon! Hope it’s everything you wanted. If not send it back in! I gotchu. 😘😘😘

[irepookie]

Infinity Chapter 4-

Meet The Family (PT.1)

Summary: QUEEN AU where Rog (aka Rowan Queen) is a young single dad struggling to make it into music industry.

Warnings: not really. Just fluff, sappiness and swearwords here and there

Disclaimer: I don't own the pictures. The boys are based on Queen, but Piper, Gina and Callie are mine

John: Rick Lincoln (Cause he is John Richard Deacon born on August 19th 1951™™™™™)

Brian: Terry Garrett (Cause my uncle used to have a black puddle named Terry and I had no choice)

Freddie: Len Mars (Yea I couldn't help myself)

Chapter 4- Row opens up with the boys about the raisin.

“I'm a dad”........

"Okay, let's... let's get over this again: A daughter?" Terry, the band's guitarist couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, Terry. A daughter" Row repeated for the 19th time from the other side of the phone.

"A baby." Len said, taking another sip of his tequila.

"No, a 30 year old alpaca." Row said sarcastically. "Yes, a goddamn baby. Fucking gorgeous, just so you know"

"And you're gonna keep her." Rick, who had been quietly plunking his bass' strings, added. "Are you sure?"

"It's done. I've already kept her. And it's not like I'm rescuing a shelter dog. She's mine. Period."

"Sorry, was just trying to... Wrap my head around it"

To be honest, Row still couldn't quite believe it (that he was a father). Not even now, as he tried to convince his best friends while holding his girl with the other arm.

"And is your mom okay with it?" Terry asked

He scoffed, clutching his Lil raisin close at the thought "My mom has no say in this".

"But she knows" Rick said.

He sighed "Yes, she knows. And she was a bitch about it, okay? She can disown me for all I care". It's not like there was much to inherit, anyway.

There was a general sigh from his three best friends.

"And what are you gonna do?"

" 'bout what?"

"Um, I don't know, man. About School? Maybe about your life in general?"

"School ain't something I'm worrying about".

"What a surprise" Rick rolled his eyes.

"But you're still in the band right?" Len said

"Oh, of course. Of course. You guys are gonna be the only ones keeping me sane"

They chuckled

"But we ain't gonna babysit for you, huh?"

"As if you knew anything about babies"

"Well, the same as you." Terry said

"Just what I was saying: nothing at all" Row grinned

"Her future looks bright, then" Len half teased.

"Incandescent, in fact" Row could pretty much hear Terry's arched eyebrow.

The youngest member could only roll his eyes and try not to take it as an insult. He knew this was a lot to process all of a sudden and that in the inside, beyond the sarcasm and teasing, they were happy for him.

"Whatever, guys" he replied, as Pips began to frown. He sighed, knowing that meant smelly treat was on its way "Gotta go. By the way, she just told me she thinks you guys stink" he grinned, before hanging up.

The other three men exchanged a confused glance, and stayed in silence for a minute, until Len broke it:

"I say he'll go completely nuts in seven days".

"That long? Nah, I think less than 24 hours after they leave the hospital." Terry said

Len smirked "Bet?"

"I'm a bit tight at the moment, pal"

"Then not money. If I win, you'll be my model for the midterm design project. It's 30's fashion. For ladies, of course".

"Ok. But if I win you'll do my chores for a whole weeks."

"A whole week?!"

"Seven days, if you prefer it."

They shook hands "Deal. Rick? Join us?"

"I actually rather believe that they'll be alright" Rick got up and stretched.

"Well of course they will. Eventually. Row always figures things out." T said

"The fun part is to watch him go crazy in the meantime" Len chuckled "Like when he first moved in and left a fork in the plate when first using the microwave"

They laughed, remembering how their friend had called them at 9 PM in panic, screaming the microwave had exploded.

"Let's just hope for the best. I mean he seemed quite sure of himself this time. And who knows, maybe being a dad is the best way to grow up." Rick defended

"Yea, well a bit radical, don't you think?" Len said

"Like sock therapy. If smokers quit when diagnosed with lung cancer, maybe Row settles down now he has a baby"

"I just still don't get why he didn't just put her in adoption" T said

Rick shrugged "Would you if you were in his shoes?"

"Absolutely"

"That's exactly how Row would've answered, say, a week ago. That's what we all answer. Until it really happens. I think it's one of those situations where you can't really picture until you live it."

"But this is Rowan Queen we're talking about. Rowan <<Made out with both Jones Twins at the same party Cause I didn't remember which was which>> Queen. I mean, he does know that a kid is gonna freeze his sex life for indefinite time, right? What the hell was going through his head?" Terry said

"I can't believe you think that." Len interjected "I mean, I'm the one who's never gonna be a dad here, and the one who failed biology, but even I get it. He met her right? Before any decision was made, he met her. Once you meet your kid, you're tangled up forever. And you might think you're not but if you give them away you'll never get rid of a feeling of remorse."

"Wow, Lenny, that was deep"

"Yea, where'd you get that from?"

"Just common sense."

"Funny, considering you're the one who's started the bet" Rick grinned

"One thing doesn't prevent the other. And out of the two of us, I'm the optimistic! He gave him one day, I gave him seven! I trust him"

"Well I'm not sure if I do. I mean, I love him, he's a great guy, a great musician, and everything else, but he's not reliable. Remember his first job as a waiter? I'm still waiting for the fish and chips I ordered last April"

The other two chuckled "I once lent him a t-shirt, and I swear I saw Liz Michael's wearing it" Len said

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, well, we can't do anything about it, T. It's his life"

"But this affects us too, one way or another. This affects the band. And he didn't even consult us"

"Well what did you expect him to do? Call and go <<Hey guys, are you fine with me having a daughter? No? Okay, just checking. Bye>>?" Rick imitated a phone with his hand, doing a decent impression of their friend's high voice.

"A head's up would have been nice"

"Terry, just chill for fucks shake. I mean, this is unexpected, but Row's our best friend, our brother, and we have to support him. Because, if he's a dad, that's makes us her uncle's. And it'll be fun having a little niece we can spoil" Len smiled at the idea.

"Spoil? With what money?" Terry, always realistic, put his hands on his hips

"With the upcoming tour's, of course darlings" he twirled majestically around the room

"First, that's in four months" Rick reminded

"If it does happen at all"

They still had one last song to arrange And record. Plus, they didn't know how Row was gonna make it work now he had a baby. But nobody addressed that concern out loud.

"Oh don't be so goddamn negative, fellas! C'mon! We're uncle's! Row's made a very important, life-changing, mature decision, and we should be proud of him. So" he went to the fridge and returned with three beers "I say we toast for him and the lil Queenie"

The other two grinned and accepted the cans, opening them.

"Oh, I say we Split a fourth beer in his behalf, cause parents shouldn't drink while breastfeeding" Terry mocked, earning a laugh

"To the Queens" Rick raised his can "For our little bro to take this seriously and not fuck this kid up"

"To the Queens" Terry and Len crashed theirs as well.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Meanwhile, in the hospital...

"Goddamn it, raisin! How can someone so small produce so many colors of something so stinky?" Row exclaimed, holding his breath as he clipped the fresh nappy on his daughter "We only feed you milk! Like... Like white milk! How can you turn a white liquid into rainbow pudding? Holy shit" he held the dirty one at arms length and threw it in the bin "It's a damn good thing I love you, cause I won't do this for anyone else" he told her, lifting her up to his chest again before walking around the room

"You gonna be a good girl for me for the next eighteen years? Huh?" He kissed her chubby cheek "What am I saying? You're my daughter, of course you're gonna be a trouble maker. But we'll get along, you'll see. I ain't gonna be like my parents. Don't worry. I won't be a bloody pain in the ass like mom, and I will never ever do anything my old man did. That I can promise. But I gotta admit I do want you to be like Gina. Yea, she's a control freak sometimes, but let's face it: she's gotta be the strongest person I've ever met. You should've seen her kicking the bastard out the house. She took no shit."

He smiled somewhat proudly at the memory, and for a second forgot how mad he was at her for turning her back on them.

"You wanna be a badass gurl like her? Huh? Yes you do. Yes you do" he cooed, craning his neck so he could brush his nose with her little button one. Her fist chose to close around the nearest strands of blond hair on reach, which he found secretly adorable.

But a part of him did wish he had mom's support. After all, despite the rough patches through his teens, they had always had each other's back; through thick and thin. She had have to raise him all alone, and although he hadn't even begun with Pips, he already knew it hadn't been easy. She may be stern, and a bit inflexible when it came to negotiating allowance. She could come across as rude if you caught her in the wrong mood (which many neighbors had) but above all she was a good person and a good mother.

And looking back, he hadn't been such a great son. He could have been more responsible, less handful and more obedient. Less rebellious, too. He could have thanked her more often for the thousand things she did everyday. For the meals. For all the jobs she had taken to provide for the two of them. For the surprise birthday gift she had got him with the money she had been saving: a real drum kit. For helping him move out her house into that one room crappy appartement which would be Pip's home.

But still she had rejected Piper without a second thought, regardless of her anger towards him; Pips was her granddaughter, she had done nothing wrong and as her father, Row doubted he would ever forgive Gina.

He sighed, untangling the hand of his hair and bringing it to his lips "But you don't have to worry about all that. Just concentrate on staying strong and growing up. And I promise I'll focus all of me on being the best dad. That you'll never miss a mom cause you don't need one. You've got me and I swear I'll be enough. Even if I'm still young: I'll have it all more fresh won't I?" He grinned "You're the one person who's never judged me yet, and I don't wanna let you down"

That a was vow. And he was determined to keep it.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

This one goes to my mega-paragraphist @definitely-darcy who's got my engine going through the usual inspiration blocks, and who's reviews help me improve. She's made me believe in this fic, and encouraged me to keep going despite the one digit notes.

Xx- Pookie

[ganymedesclock]

You might have answered this question already, I can't remember, but....I've seen quite a many member of the fandom insisting that Lotor can't be trusted, but one argument that caught my attention is that Lotor's story about the colony he cared for that was eventually destroyed by Zarkon was CLEARLY made up as a means to gain Allura's trust and sympathy. Do you think you could explain why this isn't true?

I’ve made a lot of posts about a lot of general topics around this, but I absolutely have it in me to spin a specific counter-argument to this.

The short version of it is, I think that people are failing to understand Lotor, not in a “oh, he’s really sympathetic and much nicer than that!” way, as much as, they’re failing to understand Lotor as a schemer.

Because yes, Lotor is a fairly calculating and paranoid person who will do some considerable things to save his own hide. However, you have to consider that the entire show up to this point has illustrated very specific patterns for Lotor’s behavior. Furthermore, since the universe generally doesn’t fold over itself to be an accomplice, we have outside evidence on the subject we can gather from other sources.

I’ll discuss all of those in more detail under this cut.

Everything Lotor tells us checks out

Lotor’s story of the colony can be condensed to several claims.

He was placed in charge of a colony by Zarkon.

He chose not to depose the local population, but rather negotiated with them.

Part of his objective was harvesting quintessence sustainably without harming the planet in long-term.

When Zarkon discovered this, he ordered Lotor to destroy the planet.

Lotor refused, and Zarkon took the matter into his own hands. Presumably, Lotor was forced to witness this. This was the beginning of his exile.

The first two points we can actually find supporting evidence for all the way back in s3e1. Throk is a pretty good source in this sense- because he hates Lotor and doesn’t want him to succeed, most things that he and Lotor agree upon are probably fact, since Throk has absolutely no reason to lie for Lotor’s benefit.

Throk and his friend, who harbors similar sentiments, discuss that Lotor has ruled colonies in the past, and he specifically does so working with the local people.

This is further supported in s3e2 when Lotor and the generals clearly set out to spare the lives of the people of Puig, injuring and taking hostages but explicitly by design, killing no one. Lotor also promises to show the Puigians mercy before he actually starts bargaining with the Puigian leader.

Lotor’s proposal to Puig is that no matter what they choose, he’s going to pull his soldiers out of their planet and leave them alone. But if they take his side, then he’ll personally intervene on their behalf, and serve as their liaison to the empire- people who’ve never listened to them before.

This is a context when Lotor is not “playing nice” and has no reason to try and make himself look friendlier than he is. If anything, his appeal in s3e2 is much more emphasizing his strength and efficiency, and the forces he has at his disposal.

The prison Lotor had control of that’s seen in s5e1 is noticeably fairly humane, as far as imperial prisons go- there’s no experimentation or torture, the guard system seems entirely automated so you don’t have abusive bullies in the guards, there isn’t forced physical labor. It is by nature exploitative (it is a prison after all and these people are still being forced to work on things that benefit their captors, not themselves) but if you compare it to, say, Beta Traz, whose warden was using electrical torture to drag inventions out of Slav’s head, the facility in s5e1 is tame in comparison.

(And we’re not certain how long Lotor had control of it; given that Sam Holt was captured by the main empire and shipped off to a labor camp by them, Lotor would not be in a good place pre-s3 to have been poking around prisons looking for scientists, and the facility lacks Lotor’s distinctive color scheme and aesthetics. All of that would suggest it was an acquisition sometime after s3e1)

What he purports to have done in s5e6 aligns perfectly with his actual shown policies of colony management.

As far as gathering quintessence, this is supported both by Lotor’s overall attitudes about resource management- 

(he tends to be very frugal and cautious, wanting to carefully evaluate even his enemies, Voltron, before sending them into the rift. Even when he said it would work out in their favor if Voltron failed to return, he didn’t want to risk them without a good guarantee they could succeed at his objective for them)

-and that being able to tap quintessence directly from the rift, thus completely negating the need for new colonies, has been a priority for Lotor that he’s sunk a lot of energy and resources into. Far too much effort for it to be a mere farce. There’s far less expensive ways to put himself in a flattering light.

If Lotor’s so dissatisfied with the old system that he’s trying to tamper in mysterious periphery technology to avoid it, it’s fair to assume that dissatisfaction would have reared its head in less drastic solutions, like the sustainable quintessence farming he proposes.

The last three points boil down to that there is a long-term conflict between Lotor and Zarkon, and Lotor, so far, has tended to lose.

Nothing about Zarkon’s role in this is out of character for him. Zarkon is pushy, destructive, and already has a marked tendency of lashing out at people who don’t do things the way he wants them to, even if they fulfill the objective he tasked them with. 

Remember Prorok, who was framed as a spy and then dismissively made into a robeast even after Haggar made it clear she knew he was innocent- purely because he tried to capture Voltron on his own?

This is absolutely a guy who would burn a planet down because he doesn’t like how his resident crony is running things.

Furthermore, we even have specific evidence that this is something he’s done to Lotor before.

Again, Lotor’s frugal with resources. He doesn’t waste time doing things that won’t get him results. And in s4e3, he clears his schedule for the express purpose of throwing himself at Zarkon’s feet and showcasing how helpless and ineffective and eager-to-please he definitely is.

Lotor doesn’t want Zarkon to know anything he’s doing. S4e3 basically illustrates that Lotor, more than disliking Zarkon, fundamentally doesn’t trust Zarkon.

Which, also, as soon as Zarkon figures out even a scrap of what Lotor’s doing… he mobilizes most of the fleet to shoot down Lotor’s cruiser and kill him.

There’s no part of the story that really seems fishy compared to things that we know and have observed, most of it from interactions with people who have absolutely no reason to humor Lotor and in fact, would want to spite him.

This is not the way that Lotor lies

Here we move away from evaluating the claim and onto Lotor’s tactics.

Many people point to Lotor’s manipulation of Throk as an example where Lotor pretends to be someone’s friend, but if you actually look at what Lotor’s saying and doing, he actually never insinuated that he liked Throk, or trusted him, or even really intended to be all that nice to him.

When he offers his hand to Throk, Lotor explicitly says “Each ally gained only makes us stronger. While those who stand against us will be crushed.”

Throk just got baited out into single combat by Lotor who made it clear he knew Throk’s plot before it had gone into motion. Lotor then defeated him, insulted him multiple times (“Your repetitive attacks are getting you nowhere”, “your tactics are stale, and in the end your own aggression is your undoing.”) and then threatened him at swordpoint.

Now that he offers his hand, he does so with a smirk and an obvious warning. If Throk refuses Lotor’s hand, if he “continues to stand against” Lotor… well. Lotor made it clear what he intends to do.

The most positive sentiment this seems to express is “I’d like you to work with me… but believe me, Throk, you really don’t want to stick to being my enemy.”

Lotor’s threatening Throk. And literally the second his little photo-op is done, he makes sure to take his back out of Throk’s stabbing range.

So Lotor’s actual only con in that scene is the vague implication that Throk can cozy up to him by acting like an ally and recanting his attempted coup. The part Lotor’s lying about is the implication he trusts Throk a tiny amount, when he really doesn’t trust Throk at all, and his response is to get away from Throk immediately.

He doesn’t wait until Throk has served some kind of goal for him.

On other occasions, when Lotor presents himself as weak and vulnerable, he has a clear agenda that he wants the other person to attack him. When he’s trying to goad the paladins into using Voltron against him, he leaves the safety of the cruiser for a tiny fighter ship. When he wants Zarkon to dismiss and ignore him, he diminishes himself and pleads for Zarkon’s guidance.

When Lotor is trying to get people to ally with him… both on Puig in s3e2, and towards Voltron in s5e1 and s5e2, Lotor’s obvious tactic is to make himself seem strong and influential. “I can give you all of this information, I can give you an imperial alliance- Zarkon’s trying to get you to give me up because he knows losing me will weaken you, you don’t want that, do you? You’re playing into your enemy’s hands.”

Lotor has never been shown, at any point, to use his own vulnerability as a way to milk sympathy from people. If anything, even when he has a truly breathtaking potential sob story, he doesn’t even seem to consider it.

When his generals betray him, when he runs to the paladins as his basically desperate last-ditch solution, either time you would expect protest, you’d expect complaint, you’d expect “haven’t I endured and suffered enough here?”

But there’s nothing. Instead, again, Lotor’s entire appeal to the paladins boils down to “I’ll be useful.”

It’s very consistent with Lotor’s behavior that he doesn’t seek reassurance or comfort from other people when he’s hurt. He stiffly tells Allura he’ll be fine in s5e3 after having killed Zarkon.

He’s been given hundreds of opportunities to milk sympathy at this point. And at every turn, he doesn’t- to the point of even sitting on information that would make Allura more sympathetic to him. He has an entire conversation with her in s5e1 about how she doesn’t trust him because he’s part of the galra royal family, knowing full well that he’s half-Altean.

Instead, he reveals it obliquely by talking about his connection to Honerva- after Allura’s decided to trust him and after he’s already in power and his survival is no longer contingent on Voltron thinking kindly of him.

The story in s5e6 also comes after Lotor would actually have a vested interest in getting Allura to trust him. Why would she possibly hesitate to help him at Oriande if she’s already made up her mind to put him on the throne? One of these things is a far greater leap of faith than the other.

Furthermore, when Allura does say something positive in response, suggesting Lotor’s risen in her esteem, his response is to contradict her.

Allura’s comment that he stood up for the people of the ill-fated colony means that in that moment, she imagines him heroic, like herself standing up for what’s right against the force of the empire. She believed that he saved them.

Lotor himself is the one who immediately says “No. They all died. I’m a failure.”

And not in a particular way that reads as one fishing for sympathy, either- considering how quickly he moves on from the subject and doesn’t look at Allura until she thanks him for helping her.

Nobody who is trying to get their allies to trust them and think of them as helpful and competent tells a story about how they completely failed to do something that their allies see as objective number one, protecting people.

The way Lotor talks about this story does not paint him in a good light. It doesn’t describe him as a villain, but he basically accuses himself of being a bystander while an entire planet of people were murdered.

Anyone with any skill at manipulation or deception is not going to think this is a good idea. If the objective is to seem like a victim but with good ideas, there are so many more direct, “clean” ways to reveal that without making himself look bad.

This is not an effective tactic. Lotor doesn’t know Allura that well, and for a good part of this partnership she’s been coldly passing judgment on him. Hearing that the only past venture towards heroism was a complete failure where he lost standing (and emotional health) and gained absolutely nothing in return.

This serves as significant context to how Lotor talks to the white lion during his trial, and his responses to the universe in general

The idea that Lotor and Zarkon have lived in a cycle where Zarkon’s disrupted Lotor’s life, destroyed things and killed people he got close to, and isolated him lines up with a lot of Lotor’s issues- the obvious difficulty he has trusting people, the fact that he’s this slow to even tell Allura relatively trivial details about his life, including things that aren’t secrets.

Everyone at the Kral Zera knows Lotor’s half-altean- when this is a crowd of people that will want to brutalize, enslave, or kill him for it- but Allura, one of the few people that would welcome that side of him, doesn’t know until an entire episode later.

Lotor is an isolated, paranoid person who’s very slow to trust and reflexively tries not to show people anything that might be construed as “weakness”. This tactic was clearly not developed to avoid particularly empathetic people, either, because Lotor’s “I’m fine, absolutely not hurting at all” body language basically consists of going absolutely wooden and shutting down, which is probably the most not-fine thing you can do.

pictured: someone who is Definitely not regretting everything he’s ever done in chronological order.

So what does this come back to? There is an obvious narrative reason we’re told about the colony right then.

There’s a difference between Lotor and Allura the second they enter the trial in s5e6.

Allura looks around, confused.

Lotor startles.

This defines each of them entirely throughout the scene- Allura remains confused but never fearful, while Lotor never once considers that the lion isn’t something to be scared of. 

It’s not malice or hatred that Lotor’s lashing out with- the things that he says to the white lion make it very clear that he’s made a lot of assumptions about this creature, which explain why he attacks it at the end.

Lotor assumes that the white lion is coming to kill him. That it’s decided he’s not worthy, that it’s separated him from Allura- who’s “pure”, who wasn’t abused, who’s a “real” Altean raised in that culture by Alfor- and it’s here to drive him out of there and force him to give up because he doesn’t deserve any of this.

That everything he’s doing, everything he’s worked for to get here- is going to be taken away from him if he doesn’t fight tooth and claw to defend it right now, no matter what else might happen to him.

It’s set up as a very direct parallel to his killing of Narti- and just like that time, it has the same end result. There’s a price to pay for that action- but more than the target of his aggression, who dies quickly and silently... Lotor’s the one who goes on to suffer from it.

I have a personal pet theory that the Sincline ships will eventually take the form of Lions, and that Lotor’s ship, as the counterpart to the Black Lion, will be a white lion. To me, I think this adds another layer to s5e6 and the trial.

Because Lotor’s not actually hurting anybody else that time, not like he did with Narti.

Lotor’s just hurting himself. This is one step in a cycle of self-destruction born out of Lotor’s fear and self-loathing.

This is where the story about the colony slots in perfectly. This is why it’s essential context before Lotor’s presented to the trial, and acts the way he does.

This is not Lotor telling Allura a sad story- this is Lotor telling the audience- without realizing it- why he’s so afraid, and why he hates himself so much.

Because everything he’s cared about before has been destroyed, because he feels like it’s his fault for never being smart enough, or strong enough, or proactive enough to stop it.

Because he’s been set up to fail. It doesn’t matter if he did everything else right.

When Allura’s confronted by the lion, she sees Alfor- who’s argued with her, but only ever because he had a point, who never meant her badly unless something else had gone wrong to force him against her, and that’s exactly how she talks to it. This isn’t right, this is a holy place, a life-giving place- this is not a temple for death, so the only right action can be not to fight.

When Lotor’s confronted by the lion, he sees Zarkon- who has never, in his experience, meant him well. The setting and context are irrelevant, the important thing is this enemy is here, and if he doesn’t have enough power to stop it, the colony’s going to burn again, all of his friends will die again.

And it’s going to be his fault again.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #31

I went to Physical Therapy today to get my muscles mashed up. I've had to go to Physical Therapy for a long time now. Maybe I'll explain why later. In any case, though it's a necessary thing to ensure that my skeleton does not rebel further, it's still a painful thing, and I'm still kinda dealing with the aftermath of today's session. That's okay though; I ate a burger to replace any lost iron or protein, I'm staying hydrated, and I've taken some ibuprofen to minimize pain and swelling. I'm very ouchy right now, so it's a little hard to think, but if I get a good night's sleep, I'll probably grow back by tomorrow; it'll be okay, don't you worry!

I'm trying to take it easy for now though; taking it easy is important when you're injured and/or dealing with a chronic condition. I made myself some tea. Today's tea is essenced with some of your favorite scents - roses and vanilla, if that email that Zack got in Crisis Core is to be believed. It smells and tastes amazing, and the warmth of the smooth glass jar I brewed it in feels very good on my hands. I wish I could share these things with you; alas, I cannot. But, I can send along a few pictures to you. Here:

This is the tea I used. Even before it's brewed, the scent is absolutely tantalizing.

Here's what it looks like when it's brewed. It takes on a vibrant, ruby-red color. The steam coming from the jar smells so good that I almost want to disregard the fact that it's too hot to drink without getting burned!! Hahaha!

(Don't worry - I do have delayed gratification and impulse control skills; no tongues were burned in the making of this photo, I promise! ahahaha~!)

Here's how it looks after just a little bit of milk and honey are added!

It turned out even better than I expected, even though I added just a little more honey than I normally do. I think maybe you would have liked this one, too. Or perhaps that's just wishful thinking on my part? I wonder.

I know you can't answer me, but I'll still ask: Do you like tea? If you do, what kinds do you like best? And if you don't, then what do you like instead? You're at the Edge of Creation, right? And you have astounding powers by now, don't you? Even if where you're at is fresh out of milk or tea, maybe you can use your awesome abilities to conjure up something nice for yourself, no?

How are you doing over there, anyhow? Are you warm enough? Are you safe? Are you taking good care of yourself? What kinds of sights do you fill your eyes with? What kinds of sounds do you fill your ears with? What kinds of stories and words do you fill your mind and heart with? It's important to be very careful about which things we choose to engrave into our psyches in this context; we become what we eat, after all.

As for me, I suppose I'm feeling a bit pensive. I reflect upon the life I have now, and how starkly different it is from the life I knew before. For the sake of simplicity, we can say that I have 22 years of poverty and horror (though the first four years weren't so bad); as an unwanted child who was only conceived by mistake, I was violently conditioned into voicelessness and shaped into a tool to be used rather than a human being to be loved and understood. I was treated much in the same way one might treat household furniture or appliances - it gets used when it's needed, gets ignored the rest of the time, and gets either discarded or a good "thwack" when it's broken or malfunctioning, or not staying silent and out of the way like it's supposed to.

For a very long time, the closest thing I thought I could have to a "normal" life was to make myself useful to someone else so that even if I was not loved per se, someone would still be motivated to keep me around; I knew well how to make my sense of self disappear in favor of being servile, by that point. But this way of being isn't really "living", is it? No… this is barely even "existing". It's a very invisible and lonely thing, and if you're not careful, the resulting feelings will crawl into your mind, heart, and lungs, and leave you barely able to draw breath, not unlike some kind of thick, cold, black, heavy water.

But I'm sure you know a little something about all this already, don't you? You probably know even more about this than I do. I imagine that your upbringing makes mine look like a trip to Disneyworld or something. It's amazing to me that you're still here, even after all of the horror you've been through. I hope you can look at yourself and be very proud of your tenacity, determination, and resolve; watching you make use of those traits is part of how I managed to survive.

I have 11, almost 12 years of healing. I got lucky enough to meet people who were willing to teach me what it meant to be treated like an actual human being, even though my upbringing had turned me into a person who really didn't know at the time how to speak or act constructively. Safety is a very scary thing when you only know pain and chaos, and I lashed out pre-emptively often. Still, they hung on, even through all my thrashing and resistance, and I learned. Slowly but surely, I learned. I became who I am now. And I'm still becoming whoever it was that I was supposed to be, day by day.

I've discovered along the way that despite it all, you can still build a normal life out of the wreckage of whatever came before. All you need is a bit of safety and someone to show you how to handle and reassemble the jagged pieces of the version of you that was brutally broken in the past. As you assemble the pieces and bind them together again with iron will, you will certainly slice open a few fingers and burn yourself on the hot metal as you work with the things that never should have been shattered in the first place, but that's okay; it is the way of things. The pain is sharp and white-hot when you make mistakes, but you have to try not to panic as you remember that you've survived worse things.

And, as long as you don't give up, when you are done, you will have a version of you that is prismatic and kaleidoscopic - something that is both "normal" and "far more glorious than normal" at the exact same time. And isn't that beautiful? After all - no one can build stained glass windows without breaking a few panes of glass, right?

And, although stained glass windows might not be "normal" per se, as compared to ones made of single sheets of plexiglass, they're still common enough, far more beautiful to look at, and far more resistant to shattering, what with all that fancy metal adding structural integrity and all. I don't regret what happened to me. I wouldn't change it for anything. After all, it has allowed me to grow into someone who can now go and help other people who have been through similar things.

So I suppose in short… anyone can build for themselves a version of normal, and it can be good enough. Even I can do it, and I'm just some autistic weirdo living in a defective body in some ordinary place. You are far more intelligent and capable than I am. You can have that "normal" life you wished for as a boy; all you gotta do is be willing to learn what it looks like, and start to believe that you can work towards it. If you want, I'll hold your hand as you do it if you want to try, so that you don't have to be scared or feel like you're all by yourself.

Please be safe out there as you do your things, okay? I'll still be here cheering for you, in whatever small ways I can. Just make sure you don't disappear. Don't go so far away that no one can reach you anymore.

I'll write more later.

Your friend, Lumine