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dontspillthefrijoles43 · 6 months ago

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What he thinks vs what she knows (Drabble)

Word count: 2k-ish

Warnings: self image, insecurities, internalize racism, self esteem issues, sappy lovers, teenagers being teenagers

(A/N: Had this saved up in my drafts, figured I post it since I’m still editing and getting ready for more Chispo and bruja content. Y’all are surviving a drought so I figured you’d like to get scraps 😭 you can see this as chipso y bruja canon? Uncanny? Maybe another au who knows? 🤔 I know I’m literally the author of this fanfic Anyways Thinking abt making a tag list for when I post so lemme know if you want to be tagged. Til the come get ya scraps! This one an agnsty one)

Leo thinks he’s ugly.

He thinks it has to do with his frame. It’s too scrawny and weak. Not enough muscle, like the rest of his siblings who buff up endlessly. Or the Ares kids who have chiseled abs. He doesn’t even have the height to gain such strength. Or the right body fat percentage.

Maybe he’s ugly because he doesn’t have wavy hair like a Greek should. He has tight curls that seem to go everywhere, never in one place. Messy and kinky in all directions. No one ever seems to notice when it’s comb and neat.

His skin can be the reason why he’s ugly. It’s not perfectly pure white. And it’s not just the right olive tan. He’s dark that awful awful color— Moreno feo! His aunt would hiss at him. As if she wasn’t the same color.

Or could it be his scars? They’re littered onto his body jagged and spread over his arms and hands. Not to mention the disfigured tissue from the left of his face and downwards, all red-brown burns spread over him.

If none of those things prove that he’s ugly, then maybe his face will.

He doesn’t have a strong chiseled jaw, even after puberty, it’s still soft with some baby fat. Except for his way too pointed chin. The smile he paints on, definitely crooked and awkward; not perfectly straight shining white teeth.

Lips are usually chapped, because he kind of sucks at self-care. Proof by all his acne scars over his cheeks. Besides his weird moles. And who can forget the weak peach fuzz placed on his upper lip. Upwards his small, wide, and awkwardly squished nose.

Above that is not sky blue or green or any other unique color— but his dirt-ugly brown eyes, baggy from his lack of sleep some days, and way too thick eyebrows.

The worst part of it all, is his pointy ears. They stuck out enough to notice. The first thing people would see. They were stupidly pointy. And ultimately what Leo was most known for:

Fuckin hobbit

Elf

Troll

Imp

Mexican Spock he didn’t even like Star-trek!

The list just goes on.

All these things make Leo thinks he’s ugly. Bullies and ex-infatuations have been sure to let him know it.

So to himself — Leo’s ugly.

—

Breisa loves Leo. She loves how he makes her feel. And how he cares. Or how he shows his love. She loves the warmth he brings. The dizziness she feels when she’s with him. He never fails to make laugh. Or her feel any less important, more than just his girlfriend. His compliment. Not his missing piece.

But one thing that irks her, is how he can’t see himself in the same light as she sees him. He doesn’t love himself the way he loves her. It hurts to see that.

Breisa wanted him to be able to have the self confidence in himself. He’s so smart, sweet, funny, strong, handsome, and caring but in his charming way. Despite how awkward or weird he could be which she had to admit was also cute he was charming in his own little way.

Hopefully her plan was the best way to show him.

“Come on!” Breisa smiles and dragged Leo from behind, “Ya llegamos!”

“Alright alright—stump!” Leo tripped and face planted into the dirt. “Ow.” His voice went small.

“Oh my bad.” She winced, helping him up. Dusting off his clothes from the dirt. “Didn’t mean to get so excited.”

He spit grass out his mouth, “No worries, cariño.”

He wipes off the dirt with a bandanna from his back pocket.

“It’s not like that I can get any less dirt-ugly” Leo laughed.

Breisa frowned at that. “Let's just keep going.”

Then she pushed through an overgrown bush, leaving him confused.

‘She always laughs at my jokes…’ Leo thought to himself; anxiously fiddling with his silver ring he made out of metal scraps and pennant washers.

“Leo, apurate!” Breisa called.

He shaked his head and breathed in, ‘Worryin’, over nothing. No seas pendejo.’

Trudging forward he pushes through the leaves, trying not to get smacked by branches and vines.

As he stumbled out— almost face plant again when Breisa caught his arm.

“Careful.” She smiled down at him.

“Ya sabe.” Leo rolled his eyes playfully. “Why are we here?”

All she does is point with her lips— forwards.

As Leo glanced over, his eyes caught where the rocks met a grassy field. Overlooking the underside of a hill.

A fuzzy rose-patterned blanket laid out, a picnic basket holding it in place. Next to the basket was a sketchbook, pencils, and a little radio. And the view of Camp-Half-blood spread out below them. From the Strawberry fields to lava rock climbing wall.

“Woah.” He breathed. “Did you—?”

“Yup.” Breisa grinned.

“Picnic date—?”

“Uh-huh.” She answered.

“For me—?”

“Yes.” Breisa huffed jokingly. “Siéntate, lindo. No te preocupes por nada.” She plopped down and patted the spot next to her.

“Bossy.” Leo sticks his tongue but laid back into the blanket.

She mimicked his face. “Whatever. Since I’m so bossy, I guess all these tortas and Capri-suns should be for myself.”

He popped an eye open. “Tortas with ham, chips, and cheddar cheese? Topped off with tapatío?”

“My speciality.” She started digging from the picnic basket. “But guess you don’t want some. Cause I’m so bossy.”

“Espérate.” He sat up, “Sólo porque eres así— I don’t have to die of hunger.”

“Nah, pero soy mandona.” She munched on the sandwich.

“Hey!” Leo jumped.“I want some!”

“No way!” Breisa pushed his face away. “I don’t want to annoy you. I’m mean and bossy so my food must be bad.”

“Awe come on, it's still editable!” He laughed.

“Now you really ain’t getting nothing!”

—

Leo sighed satisfied, laying back on the blanket.

“Guess my food was editable?” Breisa raised an eyebrow.

“It was alright, I guess.” He shrugged.

Breisa shook her head with disbelief. “Tell that to the four tortas, bowl of fresas, and endless capri-suns.”

“No te oyes. Sugar crash. So sleepy.” Leo closed his eyes.

Breisa rolled her eyes. Flicked his forehead. Then pulled her sketchbook onto her lap. Without even thinking she began to sketch a picture of him.

Pages and pages of Leo began to fill her sketchbook, it’s become a habit of her to have at least one drawing of him in each. Always having three hearts or a little flame next to each sketch.

Before, she would have never admitted having these drawings of him. Only because it would inflate his gaintanic ego. Leo being Leo, he would have something annoying to say.

Now even she knows that it was his way of saying— ‘I like you a lot. I just say stupid stuff because it’s easier to get your attention.’

It doesn’t make him less annoying, even as her significant other.

“What are you drawing?” Leo suddenly appeared beside her.

After her surprise wore down. She traced her pencil idly and muttered, “You.”

Leo stared at her for a good long minute before bursting into laughter.

“Why are you laughin’?” She flushed, feeling a little embarrassed.

He calmed down and smiled. “It’s nothing— just..” He snorted again, looking at himself, “Why do I look like that?”

“Like what?” Breisa asked.

“Like all majestic and shit.” He waved his hands. “I ain’t that good looking. Or you know a profound art subject.” Leo rubbed his neck awkwardly with half of a smile on his face. “I’m just me, heh you know?”

Breisa put her sketchbook down, inhaled deeply, and faced him. “Eres tan pendejo.”

“Say what now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You. Are. Stupid.” She said slowly. “You aren’t just whatever Leo. I draw how I see it. You’re cute, handsome, and freakin pretty. That’s why you’re my favorite muse.”

Leo’s face burned…And so did his hair.

Breisa reached up, pinched a curl between her fingers. It fsss as the flame went out.

Leo cleared his throat, and swatted at the rest of his hair. “No way I’m that good looking. I’m sure there are other better people to be your muse. You must be blinded by love.”

“I’m not blinded by nothin’.” Breisa fussed. “You just can’t and refuse to see what I see.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “See what? Fuck up half-melted ugly troll goblin thing—who shares no light to a girl like you?!”

She grabbed the sides of his face and made contact with his coffee brown eyes. Gods she melted when the sun made them glow. He automatically shut up any protest he had.

Breisa brushed her thumb over his jaw, right at the scar.“I see a scrawny mofo with big beautiful brown eyes. A sideways smile that makes my heart flip. All wrapped up in that pretty face of his. Soft curls I can play with all day. Cute ears that get all red when I compliment him.

Hard working hands, that I can trace very dent and curve with my fingers. Strong arms that hold me in warm embrace. Just the right height so I don’t have to snap my neck up to look at.

Goofball pyromaniac but somehow suave n romantic. That knows everything about me, cares for me, and loves me.

And even though he thinks he’s the scum of the earth. A monster burned with his scars in and out. Or is undeserving of love because of some bullshit and stupid unworthy people from the past. They’re wrong. Cause to me, querido, you are the best person to ever walk into my life. And melt my heart.”

Then Breisa planted her lips on him with tenderness, her hand on his chest, and moving another hand from his jaw to his curls.

Leo squeaked and brain short-circuited. Half of it was racing with thoughts while the other half went numb. ‘Do something idiot!’ His brain finally scolded. Arms wrapped around her waist and he sighed against her lips.

When she pulled away, his lips still tingled pleasantly. Just like every other kiss they shared.

Then she looked at him with so much love and admiration. He nearly cried.

But he shook himself out of love-sickness and gave her a deadpan look.

“Ok, you really gotta stop kissing me without warning.” Leo huffed, swatting his hair which was probably on fire. Again.

Breisa snickered at him.

“En serio.” He empathized half-heartedly. “You realize how many times I’ve almost passed out? Or bursted into flames? I could’ve started a Forest fire.”

“Eh,” She shrugged, "It's worth it to see you get all flustered.” Then she squished his face, while cupping his jaw again. “I love this face. ¡Qué lindo! ¡Qué guapo! ¡Te adoro! ¡Te quiero, mi amorcito! Such a pretty boy, Mwah!”

She kissed all over his face dramatically. Extra affectionate on his scars.

“Stop.” Leo rolled his eyes. Yet, his big dumb grin that showed off his cute gap gave him away.

“Nah.” Breisa smiled just as stupid, “I am not done admiring. And I’m not done with my sketch.”

“Hmn. Guess I gotta keep being your muse.” Leo hummed leaning onto her palm.

“Guess you do.” She pecked him on the lips. “I’m going to make sure I get all of your beauty.”

“You know my face better than me.” Leo agreed and kissed her again…and again…and again.

—

After that he walked back to his cabin holding Breisa by the hand. Lipstick marks all over his face and the folded sketch in his pocket. Thinking maybe he wasn’t so ugly.

#leo valdez #hoo #heroes of olympus #lost hero #leo valdez x oc #the lost trio #spanish speaking oc #poc oc #fem!oc #latino oc #pjo tumblr #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez angst #leo valdez x reader #all da ladies love leo #Breisa Alessandro

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conkreetmonkey · 4 months ago

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idk if I've posted this before, but an UT/DR headcanon I have and don't see in others often is that humans in those worlds are not the same as the humans from ours. They're definitely more similar to us than the monsters are, but they're not the same "species" as what we'd consider to be a normal human in our world.

For starters, they can have bright yellow skin. That is straight-up canon. While we've never actually seen two humans interact in canon unless you want to count the end of genocide (which I won't because I interpret it as Chara talking to YOU, not Frisk), the fact that we now have two separate individuals with this skin tone does sort of imply it's normal. It's not a colour it's possible for a human to naturally be in our world; even when one has jaundice, it's not bright-ass Lego minifigure yellow. These kids are the colour of poison dart frogs. They're the colour of a hazard strip. That's not normal.

Given both this hint that these humans are different and the fact that all 3 humans seen in canon are universally addressed by they/them pronouns and are completely androgynous, I have a headcanon/theroy:

Humans in these worlds have no male/female sexes, no concept of gender, and no differing sexually dimorphic traits.

I do not think these humans have men and women. I think all humans are born as genderless, completely androgynous beings, and have no concept of gender within their societies. I have no idea how they'd reproduce, but I imagine them as having either no genitalia, or all having the same "set," and what it looks/functions like I have no clue. Honestly, I'm kind of leaning towards mitosis.

I like this idea for the following reasons:

Mettaton EX being so androgynous despite his identifying as a binary male would be a thing he lifted from humans, being such a fan of them and all. The thing with the four, five and six fingered gloves heavily implies he wanted his body to appear as human as possible, and I suppose that could mean combining what we would consider to be masculine and feminine traits into one metal genderbeast.

It adds a touch of "gremlinous creature" vibes to all 3 human characters; "inhuman" anatomy despite being explicitly, plot-importantly human.

The confusion about reproduction and just how tf not having gender or bio sex would work I and you are feeling right now is EXACTLY how monsters, the main in-universe demographic of both games, would feel.

Feels kind of Homestuck troll-ey, which is always a plus in any Toby Fox project because it solicits groans.

Things I percieve as flaws in this headcanon:

Kind of discredits the non-binary identities of the human characters, especially Kris, whose themes of identity, control over one's body and teenage angst are strongly complimented by a trans identity. If these characters were born non-binary, though, they wouldn't be trans for continuing to identify as such, for the same reason Mettaton and Mad Mew Mew are trans for being born genderless yet having a binary identity.

While opening narrative doors, also closes them... this is again very Kris-centric because they're older, but I've just seen so many portrayals of Kris as a non-binary kid stuck in a perisex body going through puberty that are really interesting and compliment their angst. Binders, facial hair, periods, voice changes... can't do anything with that anymore if these humans don't go through puberty as we know it, and that makes them less relatable.

It just feels bad to hc away canon trans rep like this, yk? UT/DR certainly wouldn't be hurting for it without human trans characters, but they're canonically trans, non-binary playable characters in a mainstream game. That is INSANELY rare. I cannot think of a single other example. Trans mcs are rare enough in mainstream media as a whole, let alone non-binary ones. To strip these characters of that to non-binarify their entire species feels a little... tradeoff-ey.

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dead-lights · 5 months ago

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the old guard: first day of school

I really like doing everyone-goes-to-high-school-together AUs and I've been working with Century Conflict-era sims recently, so what better way for me to get in the mood for my Simblreen renders than to send the old guard to Copperdale together?

We've got a full house - Tess, Ethren, Keisha, Inna, Elle, Vlad, Dillon, and Maria Volkov. I aged them down to teenagers, gave them teen ambitions, reset all of their powers, and moved them into the Price family's house. Don't ask what happened to the Prices.

As expected, Maria started with negative relationships with all of the vampires. Despite that, the very first thing Inna did when I hit play was walk over to Maria to start making jokes. Despite their initially negative relationship, they were friends by lunchtime. They both have the good trait - I think that really helped.

Inna's getting into photography, and Maria is happy to model for her.

I turned one of the bedrooms into a little lounge for them. I really like making study clubs, so I had Inna set one up. By the time they were done with their homework, almost everybody was on good terms, except for Vlad, who is Vlad, and Tess, who was practicing magic outside and missed all the fun.

The next morning was their first day at school. The game kinda bugged out a bit and only Inna got event goals (and only Inna had any performance increased from going to school) but I had no time to worry about that - while the other vampires spent the previous day exploring vampire lore and were able to buy plasma packs, Vlad decided to wait for a live meal. The first thing he did was ambush the janitor.

Apparently this awakened something within Vlad, because at that moment he stated experiencing the onset of puberty.

Poor thing.

The students filtered into class - with 8 teens from one household all attending school at the same time, they took up the entire classroom. Most of them made it on time, with Ethren slipping in just in time for class to start. Maria and Vlad, on the other hand, were nowhere to be found.

Maria, as it turned out, was pumping iron in the basement. She took her sweet time getting to class - she has the genius trait, so I guess she doesn't think she needs lectures. Still, she did make it to class, even if she missed the first half.

Vlad, on the other hand, was really struggling with the whole onset of puberty thing. He flew to the bathroom and tried to give himself a pep talk. When that didn't make him feel better, he decided, fuck going to class! and flew down to the computer room to troll teh forums.

He's going through some stuff, okay

Keisha, true to form, couldn't help getting a bit silly.

Though Elle and Dillon almost maxed out their relationship the first night (they stayed up playing chess while the mortals slept) Elle has a crush on Inna. A crush that seems to be causing her actual physical pain. Not sure if it's the agony of watching Inna beaming at her werewolf bestie or just the discomfort of all those teenage hormones, but poor Elle is not having a good time. She flew off to the bathroom to give herself a pep talk.

It was at this point that I realized that Ethren was in the bathroom stall, trying to go about his business. Normally vampire bathroom ambushes involve the vampire doing the ambushing, but ok.

Elle, I know you don't show up in mirrors, but Ethren can definitely still see you.

ok maybe he can't see you. dude just straight-up walked through her, washed his hands, and went to play football with Tess.

Vlad, in the meantime, decided it was time to learn to play the violin. Elle, who actually does know how to play violin, tried to be supportive of his efforts, but ultimately couldn't take it.

I don't think he blames her.

#save:the old guard #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #maria volkov #inna cents #elle devampiro #dillon devampiro #vlad straud #tess dyer #ethren reyes #keisha hughes

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fantasyandromancelover · 9 months ago

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Aaron’s Monologue

Aaron: There are three things you can be that will make life harder for you: A sinner demon, a hellborn demon, and a teenager. But do you know what you can be that makes life ten times harder than that?! Being all three! Which unfortunately is what I am. But let’s start at the beginning…

About maybe twenty or fifteen years ago, I don’t know, time passes differently down here. The radio demon a.k.a Dad, the most ruthless, deadly, and psychotic sinner to have ever existed and the surprisingly, sweet, angelic, hell-born, princess of hell a.k.a Mom, formed a partnership in establishing the Hazbin Hotel for redemption. (And seriously Dad? Hazbin? What, is trolling like your hobby or something?)

Anyway, at first it was strictly platonic, mainly because Mom had a good head on her shoulders and Dad…Well he was a few therapy sessions short of sanity. Not to mention hell born royalty was strictly forbidden to mix their “pure blood”, (Pure blood, right) with what my grandpa would occasionally refer to as “mutts.”

But Mom had a good heart and Dad did have a soft side to him, and they were both theater freaks so next thing you know they’re spending a lot of time together and developing crushes and getting real deep, and fighting the urge to act on their feelings (Soap opera shit. How those are popular, I’ll never understand)

Eventually though they fell in love and decided that they were soulmates. But Grandpa was psycho about the whole not-mixing thing so Dad and Mom had to elope and keep their marriage secret. And for about a year they managed to pull it off, but then the unholy stork paid them a visit. Now I know what you’re probably thinking, how the hell could a sinner conceive?

Well…(And oh God this is so gross) Dad had been holding off getting intimate with Mom until they were married because he was very, very, very inexperienced. And he was a little afraid that he wouldn’t be able to…(Ewww) get it up. So my Uncle Angel got him a special aphrodisiac that is supposed to revive one’s…Ahem…”Special Organ” to its younger and more lively state.

Dad injected that into him every time he went to bed with Mom and it worked, but Uncle Angel had neglected to warn my father about a certain side effect in which that the aphrodisiac could also revive sperm count. And thus I came to be in my mother’s belly and my parents’s secret marriage was out. Of course Mom was overjoyed, Dad was freaked, and Grandpa was pissed but what can you do? Nature had taken its course.

So here I am now. Half sinner, half hellborn, the son of a radio maniac and a demonic princess, raised in a hotel full of lunatics, and going through puberty. You think Hell is bad? Welcome to my world.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #charlastor #charlotte magne #alastor the radio demon #alastor x charlie #charlie magne #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor and charlie #charlie magne hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #radiobelle

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dingodad · 9 months ago

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maybe i need to reread the story before i run my mouth but from where im sitting right now i dont think it would even make sense for kanaya to be upset about rose fucking someone else. not only cus she is a troll and i definitely do NOT think any of the trolls have even tried to start undoing the centuries of baggage they have re: quadrants but also because kanaya spent like her whole puberty being obsessed with "the threesome drama quadrant". she's upset because of the baby

#not that i think rose would ever fuck someone else because she wouldnt. the point is that rose fucking someone else was never even part of t #he equation and they both know that

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razzle-zazzle · 1 year ago

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Would you be willing to like, info dump about your Troll pupating headcanon that appeared in your Between AU? Just elaborate on how it works and such?

YES. Putting this under a cut because it's moderately long

Okay okay so. I don't know why but trolls are like. Little bugs to me. So I want to give them a few small bug traits, make them little creatures.

And pupation seemed like the most fun way to do that. A pupa is an insect's life stage where they undergo metamorphosis between larval and adult forms. In real life, most pupation involves larval structures breaking down while adult structures like wings develop—in that case of caterpillars, the bug sees itself liquified during the process (while still retaining memories of pre-pupation! neat!).

Of course, in canon, we see baby and child trolls all the time, and they're not that different from the main characters. So troll pupation isn't as drastic as it is for most real-life insects in my headcanon; rather, it might be better described as spedrun puberty.

So. The headcanon itself. At about 12 or 13 years of age, a trolling will start to experience a surge in appetite and drop in metabolism. I'm not entirely decided yet on whether the cocoon is something that they build up over time from spun/shed hairs, or if it's something more instantaneous formed directly from their hair—though I'm leaning more towards the latter.

The troll spends most of their pupation asleep. Body structures don't need to break down to the extent seen in real-life insects, so while some semi-drastic changes do happen (genitals develop and become accessible, though they won't be fully functional for a few years yet; hair lengthens and becomes stronger + able to shift color and length; new adult teeth, fur, and claws grow in), the troll remains pretty much intact the entire way through the process.

When they emerge, the troll isn't actually a full adult yet; though most of the major changes have been ticked off, it still takes a few years of regular growth before they can be considered fully mature.

A big thing about pupations is that trolls are adaptable. And I headcanon Pop Trolls to be one of the most adaptable genres (since pop is literally defined as "whatever's popular," though the genre itself has a few defining features), though all trolls pupate regardless of genre. So trolls that are under a lot of stress or caught in unusual conditions may find themselves emerging from their pupations with new features outside of what's normally expected. These adaptations aren't super drastic—for example, a Pop Troll raised by Techno Trolls wouldn't emerge with the exact same structure as a Techno Troll; rather, they'd get webbed paws and bigger lung capacity (maybe bioluminescence if they're lucky) at the most. Lost limbs can occasionally be regrown during pupation if the injury was recent enough, and most scars will fade during pupation.

So why does Branch pupate at fifteen in my headcanons? Simple: he's gray. The lack of color is more than just a signifier of his disposition; it has direct physiological consequences with regards to Branch's growth rate and metabolism. His troll endocrine system released the necessary hormones to induce pupation late as a result. Hormones being what they are, it's possible for a fully-colored troll to have a delayed or even early pupation, but such deviation tends to be rare.

In the Between AU, Branch loses his tail at roughly thirteen years old. When he pupates about two years later, his body adapts to the whole "living with creatures twenty times his size" situation, and instead of regrowing his tail his hips and legs shifted to accommodate the new balance.

tl;dr my troll growth headcanons are a mix of mammalian (human) style puberty and buglike metamorphosis; trolls speedrun their puberty in a hair cocoon

#ask zaz #dreamworks trolls #and since both were brought up:#branch trolls #between au #this hc is more of a ''i think this is super neat and it serves all of my aus so i'm using it in all of them''#than ''i think this would be canon'' bc. yeah no i don't think dreamworks would go for this lmao #but it's fun!!#another option is that trolls could go through multiple pupations but then it'd feel like hs trolls so. single pupation for the big major c #anges. and then they grow normally after that #so yeah. trollings don't have genitalia in my hcs. like bugs

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tweed-tune-on-friday · 1 year ago

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Introduction (2024)

This will be pinned later

Hello, my name is T-weed and no it’s not Tweed welcome to my Tumblr blog I’ll just be doing silly little art related things, so don’t check my account you seriously also, this account is a mess and I would also like to say that this is a very safe place for everyone but if you want to interact with my blog, I do ask that you follow my rules and respect my boundaries.

Personal introduction:

Name: tweed (uncomfy, giving my irl name out)

Age: 14(but turning 15 on August 4)

Sexuality: bisexual and aroace

Personal pronouns: she/her

Race: African-American/Puerto Rican

Current hyperfixated: the smiling critters

Favorite hobby : art/music/being cringe and dumb at the same time/being sleepy as fuck/Being autistic trash (I was diagnosed last year)

Fandoms: (I’m a multi fandom girlybut you’re my favorite Fandoms)

Final space

Atavistic

Romeo and Juliet 1993

trolls (only in it for velvet and veneer)

TMNT

Dhmis

Fnaf

poppy playtime

Captain Lazerhawk (blood dragon remix)

Welcome home

Home alone

Solarball

Octonauts

Tf2

And ect.

Rules:

(don’t have that many rules)

#1: pls be respectful of everybody’s

#2: if you are an NSFW account, do not follow me or to make NSFW artwork

#3: if you’re a kid, (8/11) please don’t follow me or an adult (20+)

#4: please don’t expect constant post bc I get lazy and I lose motivation

#5: do you expect me to be posting my art a lot.

Boundaries

Comfortable

☆Please use my pronouns properly

☆NSFW artwork and suggestive artwork I just won’t be doing it here on my blog (puberty a dickhead plus I don’t give a fuck just keep it away from me)

☆Asking to be moots just don’t be weird about it

☆Asking for my other social media

☆Making fanart of my oc (just don’t tag me in any NSFW artwork)

☆I’m comfortable with DM as long as they stay respectful

　☆Re-posting my art is OK as long as you tag me and ask for my consent, same goes with pfp

Uncomfortable

Inappropriate DM’s from anyone

NSFW accounts following me (pls don’t follow me)

not using my proper pronouns

Children following me (pls read the rules)

Asking for personal information(I am uncomfy)

Sending me NSFW art work(again pls read the rules)

Spam likes/spam comment (they overwhelmed me)

Asking for a face reveal or voice reveal (

Heavy/basic dni:

Those Wally, darling Simp

Fake claimers

therian (nothing against you,)

Those Christians(I have nothing against your religion, but please don’t try to force it on me. Also no I’m not an atheist.)

Those welcome home fan

Racist

Homophobic

LGBTQ discriminators

Vivipop supporter

Ect.

Pls interact:

Furries(y’all are chill and cool as hell)

Cosplayers/poc cosplayer

Multi fandom

LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈

Age regressors

Autistic people (where are y’all at?)

Neurodivergent people ( again where the fuck are y’all at?)

Ect.

That’s it for now bye

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marcmarcmomarc · 6 months ago

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Miraculous

Chapter 11: Lila’s Evildoing

(In Paris, Lila stares out her window. Mrs. Rossi comes in.)

MRS. ROSSI: Hey, Lila.

(Lila doesn’t look at her.)

MRS. ROSSI: I know you’ve been dishonest with me about so much. And I think it’s important that we talk about it.

LILA: I suppose, but not now.

MRS. ROSSI: I see. I’ve gotta go. Ciao, mi bella.

(Mrs. Rossi leaves. Lila glances back, then smirks. She jumps out of her window to the street right outside her house. Later, she arrives at an alley.)

LILA: Alright. Whoever you guys are, you can come out now.

(Evelyn Deavor, Morag, Smek, Velvet, Shelbourne, Henry J. Waternoose, Randall Boggs, Johnny Worthington, Victor “Vector” Perkins, Eduardo “El Macho” Perez, Balthazar Bratt, Scarlet and Herb Overkill, the Vicious Six, and Bela step out of the shadows.)

LILA: Ah, fellow villains, I see?

EVELYN: I’m Evelyn Deavor. My do-good brother created DEVTech and brought Supers back into the light. I attempted to keep them illegal by making them look bad with hypnotism. My alter-ego was the Screenslaver.

MORAG: I’m Morag. I was the rightful ruler of Scotland, and then the Loud family ruined it for me!

SMEK: I am Smek. I was captain of the Boov race until Oh became the first Boov to run toward the danger, toward a Gorg ship, and took over.

VELVET: I’m Velvet. My brother and I were music stars who used Trolls to boost our singing, until that little scab Queen Poppy and her boyfriend exposed us and got us arrested!

SHELBOURNE: I’m Shelbourne. I was the mayor of Swallow Falls. But then Flint Lockwood and his food machine saved the town.

WATERNOOSE: I’m Henry J. Waternoose. I was the CEO of Monsters, Incorporated, before James P. Sullivan exposed that I would kidnap a thousand children and extract their screams to keep Monstropolis’ power running before I’d let the company die.

RANDALL: I’m Randall Boggs. The second-best Scarer in the business. So close behind Sullivan. I also made the Scream Extractor to assist Waternoose’s scheme.

JOHNNY: I am Johnny Worthington III, president of Roar Omega Roar. Boggs and I attempted to work together to make Laugh Power look bad to stick it to Sullivan. Unfortunately, my assistant ratted us out.

VECTOR: I’m Victor Perkins. I call myself Vector. After I stole the Pyramid of Giza, Gru tried to one-up me by stealing the moon.

EL MACHO: Yo soy Eduardo Perez, aka El Macho. I once worked with Agent Gru’s scientist to make indestructible killing machines out of his Minions.

BRATT: I’m Balthazar Bratt. I was a star on an 80’s TV show, Evil Bratt. But then Hollywood rejected me once I hit puberty and had a growth spurt.

MAXIME: I am Maxime Le Mal. I’ve wanted to get my revenge on Gru since he upstaged me at the school talent show.

VALENTINA: I’m his girlfriend, Valentina.

SCARLET: I am Scarlet Overkill, the world’s first female supervillain. I wanted to overthrow England and have the crown for myself, but the Minions betrayed me.

HERB: I’m Scarlet’s husband and master of gadgetry, Herb.

BELLE: I’m Belle Bottom. Leader of the Vicious Six.

JEAN-CLAWED: Jean-Clawed.

SVENGEANCE: Svengeance.

STRONGHOLD: Stronghold.

NUN-CHUCK: And Nun-Chuck.

LILA: Isn’t that only five of you?

BELLE: Wild Knuckles. He was our leader, before we abandoned him.

BELA: I am Bela. Normally, I don’t work with humans, but any enemy of Dupain-Cheng is an ally of mine.

AUSTIN: And I’m Austin Holden, aka ASLB247. I once tried to reveal Ladybug and Cat Noir’s identities at a panel and was humiliated by them for it.

(Meanwhile, Hawk Moth’s lair window opens.)

HAWK MOTH: Ooh. An embarrassed fan who wishes to reveal Ladybug and Cat Noir? Easy akuma prey.

(A white butterfly lands in his open hand. He turns it into an akuma and sends it out.)

HAWK MOTH: Fly away, my little akuma, and evilize him!

(The akuma flutters over the city and eventually reaches Austin’s sword.)

LILA: Check it out, Austin. An akuma.

AUSTIN: Hawk Moth, I am Austin Holden. Ladybug and Cat Noir’s Miraculous you want? Their Miraculous you’ll get.

HAWK MOTH: And you will be able to track them down as The Huntsman.

(The purple akuma smoke engulfs him, then dissipates, revealing him now wearing his Huntsman cosplay.)

LILA: Ooh, cool look. Villains, round out!

(The villains surround Lila, having elected her as their undisputed leader.)

LILA: We are gonna fight hard for this territory and it’s ours. But with these mouth-breathing fools serving as cover, we won’t get it.

SMEK: As of now, Adrien and his group have already tried one attempt to get Marinette back. They are in the midst of making another, but no matter how much they try, she’ll never be convinced.

LILA: Nice. Meanwhile, we’re here about to make this city our own. Small turf, I know, but it’s all we’ve got. I wanna hold this city like we always held it. With skin! I say I want us evil folk to sail, to hold the sky!

VECTOR: Then rev us off. Voom-va voom!

VELVET: Chung-chung!

RANDALL: Cracko, jacko!

EVELYN: Pam-pam!

BRATT: Riga-diga-dum!

LILA: OK, fellas, we’re taking this city!

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LILA: (SINGING) When you’re evil, you’re evil all the way From your first felony ‘till your last dying day When you’re evil, let them do what they can You’ve got brothers around, you’re a family man You’re never alone, you’re never disconnected You’re home with your own when company’s expected, you’re well protected Then you are set with a capital V Which you’ll never forget, like the birds and the bees When you’re evil, you stay evil

LILA: Now, contrary to Smek, I’m taking a wild step in the dark that Marinette will be back eventually, but by then, we’ll have taken over. Too late for them.

SHELBOURNE: Of course.

EL MACHO: So what is your idea?

VELVET: It won’t be easy taking this city over.

LILA: No sweat. You guys are some of the strongest villains in the multiverse, and these guys give in to anything. Just scare them and you’re on top.

HUNTSMAN: Great!

MORAG: Then this will be good.

BRATT: Operation Take Over Paris begins!

VECTOR: Oh, yeah!

RANDALL: When you’re evil, you are most feared in town You’re the gold medal champ with a heavyweight crown

EVELYN: When you’re evil, you’re the swingin’-est thing Little boy, you’re a man, little man, you’re a king

VILLAINS: The villains are in gear, our cylinders are clicking Those freaks will steer clear, ‘cause every Parisian’s a lousy chicken

(They walk through the city, scaring civilians as they go.)

VILLAINS: Here come the villains, like a bat out of Hell Someone gets in our way, someone don’t feel so well We are villains, little world, step aside Better go underground, better run, better hide We’re drawing the line, so keep your noses hidden We’re hanging a sign, says, “Visitors forbidden”, and we ain’t kidding Here come the villains, and we’re gonna beat every last peasant on these dirty bugging streets Each peasant on these dirty bugging streets

LILA: Alright, villains, let’s get to work!

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 2 years ago

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Can you explain why you ship batcest?! I’m sorry I’m just confused by why you like JayTim or DickTim or whatever…

I feel like I already answered this but: I just really like the dynamics of their relationships and it’s fun to go: what if they kiss?!? The pure enemies to lovers of JayTim and the freaking adorable puppy crush to love of DickTim is so good. I don’t want them canon. But it is so damn fun to read them as a couple. That’s it.

For a longer answer and as to why I explore these pairings:

I’m older then most of the people poking around in fandom and making their complaints. I’ve been participating in fandom for almost two decades, since I was a tiny preteen who was hitting puberty who suddenly got a BUNCH of issues we never figured out until I got older because hormone disorders suck ass and my autism went undiagnosed even longer. I remember my first fanfic found on Deviant art: a Harry Potter one where the golden trio and Ginny were the reincarnations of the founders and they got transported into another universe. I remember that so well because it’s just this core memory for me. Finding a place I could be me.

I went through multiple accounts and wrote some dumb shit. I roleplayed Loonatics Unleashed and did some stupid shit there to. I was a weird ass child.

I have been around for a while here kids. I read fucked up shit way to young (and it’s why one thing I am loud about is that kids shouldn’t be allowed to troll the internet without someone aware cause holy shit is some stuff messed up on here. My parents should have been watching.) and I did stupid crap. I was introduced to sex from fanfics and learned about sexuality and gender identity.

And one thing I learned through this is that: people need to grow the fuck up and realize that while fiction doesn’t exist in a vaccum it also isn’t as black and white as people like. Just because someone writes Jason and Tim kisisng doesn’t mean they are like: adoptive families don’t count or incest is fine and I’ll make out with my sibling now. It just means: hey this dynamic is interesting and let’s play with it.

Fiction does not exist in a vaccum. Racism and sexism along with other issues are common for fanfics, headcanons and comics. I recently admitted to falling prey to a few issues I was unaware of as someone who is white and grew up in a Baptist church town in bumfuck Canada.

But when people start whining over pairings it becomes a thing where all you can do is yell: ‘IT IS FICTIONAL’ and walk off. Cause anyone with critical reading skills can tell that it’s 1) not real and 2) not hurting anyone. If someone uses it to hurt someone and that’s the issue? Might as well get rid of all the books in the world and stop all TV and games because people use those as excuses to. So many people talk about the Bible, Twilight, the MCU and more being used to groom them. So… yeah. I don’t have an issue exploring pairings and relationships others would because it’s all fictional.

#dicktim #jaytim #fandom wank

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wickedwritingchaos · 8 months ago

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@blackmarquer I'm sorry, I if I didn't actually answer this question, i went through, my drafts.

just gotta ask, when people call Floyd a “demon” what does that really mean?

Floyd while being intune to emotions means he reacts in a more highten reponse than his brothers, think PMS in women (he has a hormone imbalance that mellows as he get older becuae he presented early like Branch) also I notices he's shorter than his brothers, I'm putting Branch at a similar height.

I'm also a firm believer, Floyd was secretly a pain in the butt and got names the sensitive one as a joke, given the punk/rocker style he developed as he got older.

To answer this question will take a bit of an explanation, which I probably should give everyone. I did have a whole thing about this that didn't get posted because it became less relevant but was hinted slightly.

In chapter 4, Branch's presentation was given as an omega on his 1st birthday the same happens for alphas.

New born pups: smell like baby powder (which to me smells a bit like lilac)

Over six months: they start to lose this scent as they weaned from their omega parent

1st birthday: A&O developed their scents, which will become clearer with a future chapter, but they start with high notes, and on the 1st birthday its full delvoped.

They also start showing traits like omega, pups creating nest out of family objects because their too young to mate, and this makes them feel safe, but they do not have their formal season pattern yet and will just 'steal' their families soft things.

Alpha pups become territorial over things they consider theirs or start fighting. Similarly, they will find their omega parent and cling to them during their 'mating time' (non sexually more for comfort)

Both A&O pups will feel ill, or become clingy and seek comfort for the opposite of their role as JD, Spruce, Clay and Floyd would have clung more to Fiorello at this time, and Branch would have been attached to Acacia, after this they would naturally drift back to the designation parent to learn.

Ages 8-13 omegas puberty: this is when omega trollings can be their most vulnerable, they are taught how to take care of them selves, fur & hair maintenance changes, how to manage their scents, and general changes they will go through, omegas are taught about what their instincts will cause them to react and when they should listen to them. Also sex education

15-16 first heat: the first heat is normally pre warned as the parents have a general idea and can prepare for them early. The in also the first time the omega will experience and Omega rage, they will become violent to any alpha who comes near them and react almost feral full blue eyes are expected (Branch doesn't fully understand because he went through this alone and early, he learned from Boom afterwards)

Ages 9-14 alphas puberty: this is when they can be at their most volatile, the desire to fight, very much establish their position, alpha parents teach them to control their urges, indulge in play fighting, hunting and gathering, teach them the skills they need to present to their future mates.

15-16 always first proper Rut: can be extremely violent only alpha parent should be present for this to ensure no one will get hurt as they experience the first alpha rage, they will be practically feral (hence why Floyd is.the Demon, he had his first rut early)

Until the alpha or omega has has their first heat or rut they are still considered a 'young' designation.

(This only happens the once for both, after this is the standard heat and rut)

(While Omegas are more than capable nowadays to provide for themselves, their base nature will still insist that Alpha provides and proves themselves to ensure suitableity for future bonding and pups)

#trolls mi familia

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sarahowritesostucky · 11 months ago

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📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 5297

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

A.N. I will no longer be going to the trouble of posting extensive warnings, cautions, "Minors DNI", "smut below the break", or extra trigger warning outside of the story tags etc., like I used to. Because the staff troll has targeted my account and held it to standards that virtually no other explicit fanfiction authors are consistently held to or follow on this platform, I will now only be tagging major themes above the story summary, and other than that, the only warnings you'll see from me are the "mandatory" (🙄what a joke) community labels: mature. Sorry, but I'm not going to bend over backwards to please a bunch of antis and an illiberal, vindictive child who works at Tumblr with zero accountability for their abuse of their position. Troll: grow the hell up, and PLEASE for the love of God: never go into politics.

So here is my new sign I'm so excited to introduce!🥳Feel free to use it - no need to give credit. As Mr. Mackie likes to say to the nitwits: "Baby I'm a grownup."

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 6: Inflation Therapy

Previously:

"It’s going to be okay, Buck. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, voice dull. “I know.”

It’s not the tantrum Steve was expecting, but somehow it feels just as bad. Because rather than reacting, Bucky’s just withdrawing. Steve watches him pick at his meal for another half an hour. With some gentle encouragement he’s able to get the kid to eat the majority of his protein, but he’s obviously getting no enjoyment from the food, his mind a mile away as he chews mechanically. It’s depressing. Steve goes into bossy alpha mode to try and give him some direction, make him feel a little more secure. He tries to show Bucky that he does have an alpha who cares about him, however temporary it may be.

“Throw your trash away, bub. Put your tray over there. Good job. C’mon now, let’s go do an activity. I’m leading art tonight. You want to give that a go?”

Bucky seems docile enough, following Steve into the art room and sitting on the carpeted floor with one of the lap desks for drawing circle. A few other patients trickle in, until they’re a group of ten. Steve hands out paper and cups of colored pencils, and takes up a spot on the carpet. He tries not to be obviously over-focused on Bucky, figuring that the kid needs his space to process the news about his parents relinquishing custody. “Okay everybody," Steve greets the group. "How are we doing?”

He gets friendly answers from the other patients, then guides them through a few warm up exercises. They do some rapid-fire sketch associations, where Steve throws out words like “recreation” and “comfortable,” and “dread,” and everybody has to sketch the first thing they think of in ninety seconds.

Then Steve tells the group they’re going to be doing a “Now and Then” project. He asks them to draw a picture of how they see themselves and their lives in the present, and gives them twenty minutes to work without scrutiny. “Try to pick one word or phrase to focus on. You can draw anything you like, to express it,” he tells them. “Something literal, or something abstract. Anything that you feel depicts your current emotions, state of being, how things are going for you in the world or simply in your head. Anything goes. Get as far with it as you can, but don’t feel like you have to rush with coloring it in or anything, if you’re trying to make a masterpiece.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly at his own drawing board. “You can always add details later if you’re as nitpicky about your art as me.”

“We can draw anything?” one boy in the circle asks. He’s not Steve’s patient but Steve knows his name, knows he’s there for treatment following a miscarriage. Steve nods and gives him a gentle look. “Yeah, Daniel. That’s right. Anything goes.” Across the circle, Bucky glances up and meets his eyes. Steve smiles sadly. “If anybody needs to draw violence or something that depicts self harm, this is a safe space to do that. You won’t get put on protocol for it, as long as you’re willing to join in the discussion portion and explain your drawing.”

Bucky and one other boy look like they’re relieved to hear that, and Steve gives them both encouraging looks before turning his attention to the sheet of paper he’s got on his own lap desk. He’s always been good with a pencil—had even considered going down the art-therapy track, back when he was in college. The only reason he hadn't wound up pursuing it was because he didn’t want to turn his passion into something he had to do for a job. But he still loves leading art sessions for the omegas on-ward. Figuring that powerless is a pretty good focus word for his 'Now' drawing, Steve picks up a mustard yellow pencil and begins to sketch.

“Okay pencils down.”

Twenty minutes later, everybody takes turns showing what they’ve drawn. Unsurprisingly, five of the boys have drawn something literal from their current stay on-ward. Two others have pictures of their families. One boy has chosen a forest scene to depict his feelings of uncertainty about an upcoming heat, and Daniel talks about his violet-hued sketch regarding his feelings over the recent miscarriage. Bucky is the last to volunteer to talk about his piece, and in fact Steve has to prompt him twice before he’ll turn his lap desk around to face the circle.

He’s drawn a person—presumably himself—in thick, brown lines. The person is sitting and hugging their knees to their chest, contained in a tiny space like a box. It’s a scratchy drawing but rather well-done, and the instant feeling Steve gets from it is isolation. Outside the box, it’s bright and colorful with a lot going on, but inside the box it’s muted and still, with heavy olive and brown lines. “What does this represent for you, Bucky?” Steve asks, forcing himself to do his job rather than crawl across the carpet and wrap Bucky in his arms the way he really wants to. “Hm? To me it feels rather lonely, looks isolated.”

Bucky shrugs, not looking up. “I guess.”

Steve asks if anybody has positive comments for Bucky’s piece. Daniel ventures, “... The lines get messier on the dark side. On the bright side, they’re all neat and specific, but then they get kind of scratchy on the other part.”

Steve hums, glad to at least have a couple people willing to participate in art tonight. Usually patients just sit around grunting and rolling their eyes at it. “Good point. I see what you mean. What do you think that technique could communicate?”

Daniel hesitantly meets Bucky’s eyes from across the circle before saying, “Um. Like … it’s more chaotic, on the scratchy side.”

“Yeah. Kind of gives it a distressed feeling, doesn’t it?” Steve looks at Bucky and gently prods, “Buck? Why do you think you chose those colors?” He gets nothing from Bucky besides a mumbled, “Dunno,” and forces himself not to push him on it. He talks to the group as a whole about colors and what they can represent. “Most people know that darker colors can indicate a sense of foreboding or depression,” he says. “But lighter colors aren’t always ‘happy’ per se. Take mine, for example.” Steve shows the group his drawing of a bear sitting on the side of a road with cars. “You’d think this should be in greens and blues, yeah? A nature scene. But I only used taupes and yellows and a little brown and olive. I think it looks kind of sallow, gives it a feeling of melancholy.”

“Why’d you draw a bear?” Daniel asks.

“Well, I’ve been feeling sad this evening. Kind of helpless, you know?” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky’s head lift up a little. “And I remember seeing this clip once on Facebook or something. A bear that’d been separated from its cubs across a busy highway. And it just seemed so sad.” He shrugs, feeling silly but knowing that he needs to be open and honest if he’s going to expect the same from his patients. “So that’s what I drew. That feeling of powerlessness that the video made me feel.”

“Why do you feel powerless?” Daniel asks.

This time, Steve does let his eyes slip over to Bucky—who is looking at him, but who quickly flicks his eyes away. “Because I’m worried about somebody I care about,” Steve says. “And I’m not sure I can help them the way they need. I’m not sure how much they’ll let me help.”

Bucky’s lips part, and for a second Steve really thinks he’s going to reply to that, but then he clams up again and looks down at his drawing board, not saying a thing. Steve swallows down his disappointment. “Okay guys, now we’re going to do a second piece, and I want everybody to try and make this one as literal as you can. Let’s all draw a depiction of what we’d like our lives to be in the future. You can draw something you’d like to have happen tomorrow, or something you dream of happening in a year, or ten years, even how you picture the perfect life when you’re old and grey. Really dig deep and think about what you want your life to be like, in a perfect world. It doesn’t necessarily have to be realistic, just so long as it represents what would make you happy. Kay?”

He watches as everybody gets new paper and starts drawing. Bucky, he notes, stares at his paper for a long few minutes before he ever picks up a pencil. He looks lost.

Steve gives them thirty minutes for their second drawings. When time’s up and everybody discusses what they came up with, Bucky has drawn a beach scene. It has a little blue bungalow in the background and a family on the sand. There’s an umbrella and a person lying on a beach towel whom Steve can tell is supposed to be Bucky. He’s surprised though, because that person is also visibly pregnant, and there’s a little kid right next to him, wearing water wings and building a sandcastle. There’s a dog next to the kid, and another person in the picture sitting in a beach chair who looks suspiciously like Steve, but no way in hell is Steve going to point that out. The Steve-person is blond, and Steve knows for a fact that Bucky’s family all have dark hair.

“Buck,” he prompts. “You drew yourself at the beach?” Bucky just shrugs, and Steve tries to draw more out of him. “... Is that one of your favorite places?” he asks.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’ve never been to the beach. But growing up, everybody else’s families would always go somewhere in the summer. Up to the Hamptons or down to Jersey, you know? Stay at a beach house, eat crabs, go to the boardwalk and get saltwater taffy and shit, ride the rides. It always seemed nice. Like something real families did.” His lips twist ruefully as he traces his finger from the lines of the pinwheel beach umbrella, over to the black and white dog that he drew. “... And I never had a dog. I like dogs.”

Jesus, God, Steve wants to kidnap this kid and take care of him forever. “Is the person on the beach towel you?” he asks gently. Bucky shrugs again, but then he nods. Steve nods too. “It looks like you’re pregnant in the picture. Is that what you were imagining when you drew it?” Bucky doesn’t say anything, and Steve feels absolutely pained, trying to force answers out of him like this. Across the circle, Daniel has made a little whimper and put his hands on his stomach, and Steve knows it’s time to abandon that point. “Okay,” he says quietly, moving past that little detail. “Um, what about the other people in your drawing?” he asks instead. “What part do they play?”

Bucky looks down self consciously at the paper. “They’re not real,” he mutters. “I don’t have anything right now. And I don’t even know if I want kids, but … I dunno. I drew it with a baby, and an alpha. Cause maybe that’d be nice, even though I don’t think it’s ever gonna happen.”

“Why couldn’t that happen?”

Bucky’s eyes flick up to him, reproachful. “Nobody wants me,” he says. “I just don’t see the point.”

Steve has to swallow past the horrible lump that’s formed in his throat. “Having a family of your own is a totally realistic goal, Bucky. Having children and a partner? Going to the beach with your family? Those are great things to imagine for the future.”

“I don’t have a family,” he says dully.

Steve is about to address that, but before he can, Daniel bursts out into tears and starts ripping up his paper, upset about babies and the pregnancy he miscarried a few weeks ago. Steve has to put all his effort into calming him down and escorting him down the hall to the soft room so that he can calm down. And by the time he returns to the art room, Bucky has left.

Steve sticks around for an hour afterwards, making sure nothing spirals out of control. He was prepared to spend the night on-ward if he had to, but Bucky’s behavior remains rather tame. He wets himself rather abruptly after art therapy, and Steve helps him get changed with no issues. Bucky tells Steve that he’d like to be alone, and Steve can’t force him to talk if he’s not ready. So he just watches helplessly as Bucky retreats to the soft room and curls up in the same corner where Steve found him that morning, face buried in a pheromone-treated plushie.

Steve has a talk with the overnight orderly on duty, making sure that the beta man knows to keep an eye on Daniel and on Bucky. Then he clocks out and heads home, feeling like the most useless support alpha to ever exist.

The next day, he arrives on ward to find Bucky in an unresponsive state, and the soft room having been cleared out to accommodate him.

“Moved everybody else over to the Phys-ed room,” the on-duty orderly mutters with a grimace, as they both stand in the doorway watching Bucky’s behavior. “He doesn’t answer when we talk to him. And he’s tried to bite when we go to grab 'im.”

“How long has he been like this?” Steve asks, concerned.

The beta man shakes his head. “He seemed normal when he woke up. He didn’t talk, but he wasn’t like this. We let them wander around for their AM free time, and then when I came to move everybody to breakfast, he was rocking. He won’t even look at me. Acts like he doesn’t even hear.”

In the padded far corner of the room, Bucky is sitting huddled over one of the foam rocker forms, naked, his knees planted to either side of the form and his thighs gripping it hard in stress. He’s shed everything from his body, including his diaper, and has his head resting on the front piece, his eyes staring sightlessly to the side. His thumb is in his mouth and he’s sucking it while he rocks compulsively. Steve nods grimly at the sight. “He can hear.”

The orderly looks dubiously from Bucky to Steve, and then back. “Um ... are you sure about that?”

Steve inhales deeply. “Yeah. This is a stress reaction to some traumatic news he got yesterday.”

“Oh.”

Steve goes over to kneel beside the rocker to try and get Bucky to respond to him. But when he has no success, he goes back to tell the orderly to watch the room for a minute while Steve consults his boss.

“I think he needs a course of hormones,” he tells Christina, standing in the doorway to her office because he’s too antsy to even sit down for a proper conversation. “Will you sign off on it?”

Christina nods. “Of course. What method of delivery?”

My dick, Steve thinks, though of course he’d never say that. He’s just frustrated is all. He just wants to make all of Bucky’s pain go away. “Inflation session,” he suggests, receiving a nod from Raynor. “We’ll do sense dep. after, hit him with some ASMR, some tactile stim.”

“Sounds about right.”

Steve turns to leave.

“Rogers?”

He looks back over his shoulder to see Raynor staring him dead in the eye, and gets an uneasy feeling. “What?”

“Once he’s out of this episode, I’m telling the doc to go ahead. We’re castrating him.”

Steve’s heart sinks. “Christina, please, no.”

“We should’ve done it a long time ago and you know it. The only reason we didn’t was the parents, and they’re not in the picture anymore. Steve—don’t look at me like that, Rogers. You agreed when the recommendation came down. It’s what’s best.”

Steve looks down at his feet to avoid glaring at the woman who is directly responsible for his employment. She’s not wrong, which is the worst part. Bucky’s so unbalanced, he should’ve had a therapeutic castration years ago, but his parents have always refused and Bucky’s been none the wiser. Quietly, Steve grits out, “He can’t even take the news of his folks giving him up, how do you imagine the conversation about his nuts being chopped off is going to go?” It’s snarky and unprofessional for him to talk that way to his boss, but he’s emotional.

Miraculously, Christina doesn’t call him out on it. “Not well, I imagine,” she drawls. “But what has ever gone well with this kid? After today, I want you to think about your long term care recommendations for him.”

Steve suppresses a growl. “Long term?” he repeats, and she nods solemnly. He feels dread fill his gut at the look that’s on her face. “We can keep him on ward,” he insists, hating how much it sounds like a plea. “Extended stay, and then maybe—”

“He’s not improving here. It’s been three years. He’s nineteen now. We need to think about his future. He’s in no shape for independent living, and you know it,” she says.

Steve huffs, knowing where this is going. “His family dumped him, Christina. He’s got no one. What do you expect me to do?”

“Long term care recommendation, on my desk by the end of the week.”

Steve grits his teeth, knowing there are only a couple of options there. Bucky can either be institutionalized, or sent to a group home, neither of which is promising. Steve knows Bucky, goddammit. He … he cares about him. And he knows that that’s not what Bucky needs. Bucky just needs someone to ...

To love him.

“What if I found him an alpha?” he asks, ignoring his better judgment. “Somebody who was a good fit, who could take him on?”

“By the end of the week?” Christina looks dubious, and rightfully so. She sighs at him, exasperated. “Rogers, you and I both know that nobody is gonna—”

“Just say that I did,” Steve snaps. “Would you approve it?”

Maybe she can tell what he’s thinking, or maybe she just thinks Steve’s venting and throwing out hopeless ideas. Either way, Christina nods reluctantly, her lips pressed thinly together. “Sure,” she says, obviously not believing that Steve can find someone to take Bucky on in such a capacity by the week’s end. “If you found someone who was actually suitable, I’d sign off on it.”

Steve isn’t even sure why he’s posing impossible hypotheticals, but Raynor’s agreement makes him feel relieved anyway. “I’ll need the bathroom isolated for our session,” he tells her, in lieu of a response. “And then the soft room for the rest of the afternoon.”

Christina grunts and waves him out of the office. “You got it. Now go on, get outta here.”

Steve goes.

“Buck? Hey. Hey Honey.” Steve approaches Bucky like he would a wild animal, wary of the possibility of him lashing out. Not that Steve has to worry about being physically overpowered or anything like that, but even he can take a surprise fist to the face, and he’d rather not have a bloodied nose or a black eye today.

Bucky doesn’t get violent. He seems to register Steve’s presence, as his scent shifts to something slightly more eager and his hips start rocking harder on the foam padding of the form. But his eyes don’t track Steve’s movement when the alpha kneels down beside him, and he doesn’t talk. He just keeps making these little stubborn grunts as he works on stimming himself up to another orgasm.

There’ve been several already, if the state of the rocker is anything to go by. Its red vinyl covering is shiny wet between Bucky’s thighs, making squeaky-slick noises as he moves. Steve reaches out and tentatively touches Bucky’s back. The boy’s nostrils flare and he grunts, rocking harder.

“Shh. Okay, Sweetheart. Okay. I’m gonna help you feel better, Alright bub? Just gotta let me move you around a little bit.”

‘Sexual catatonia’ is the technical term for what Bucky’s experiencing. His brain has gone into protection mode and his body is seeking out the most basic of comforting stimuli as it tries to reorient itself. He’s regressed, only able to process a certain level of input right now, and he’ll stay that way until his body receives enough signals that he’s safe and protected and wanted.

So Steve’s job is to make him feel all three of those things.

He gathers Bucky up from the rocker, shushing him and holding him in a basket restraint position until his few seconds of reactive thrashing stop. “Okay, okay. You’re okay,” Steve murmurs, keeping a low purr going in his chest for Bucky to hear and feel against his back. “Shh sh sh. Okay now. Here we go. Come on over here with Alpha.”

He all but carries him out to the hallway and into the bathroom. The nurse is already in there, setting things up. Bucky’s like a blind and deaf animal, staring aimlessly and making upset noises as he scents another person in the room with them. The orderly keeps a wide berth, but nods at Steve as they enter and points to the equipment he’s had set up for them. “Three bags there for him,” he says. “Just in case.” He heads for the door. “Push the button if you need anything else. I’ll be on station for the rest of the morning.”

Steve nods, depositing Bucky on the treatment bed. “Thanks.”

Bucky’s already naked, so that much is taken care of at least. He’s grunting a little more angrily now that he’s been taken away from his rocker and brought somewhere unfamiliar, so Steve moves around in a hurry to get them all set up. The colonics bed is shaped to cradle him in the correct position while he lies on his back. Steve guides his legs over the incline, then goes about setting up the machine.

‘Therapeutic pregnancy’ isn’t much more than a medicated retention enema, but it can help with bringing omegas out of severe emotional and psychiatric episodes. Obviously, it’s not an actual pregnancy. It’s just that the patient’s body is temporarily tricked into thinking it’s pregnant. And that’s what the nurse was referring to when he said he’d set aside “three bags” for Bucky. On the machine’s hook hang three heavy bags—all full of synthetic alpha semen.

Steve pulls a warmed blanket from the electric cabinet and drapes it over Bucky’s upper body. The omega’s eyes flutter closed as he immediately starts purring in pleasure. Steve smiles tenderly and comforts him, even though he knows that Bucky isn't to aware of his surroundings right now. “There ya go, bub. Just gimme a sec and we’ll have you feeling real good, okay?” He rolls the cart over and hooks up the bags. The machine will warm it to the natural temperature of semen as it moves through the tubes and into Bucky’s body, but first: the apparatus.

An average adult alpha knot is about the size of a regulation baseball, and the artificial knotting apparatuses that hospitals like Hydra Sanatorium use are thus sized. Uninflated, however, the diameter is small—no more than Steve's own thumb. It’s very easy to lube the thing up and slide it inside of Bucky. The omega is already aroused, lax, wet and swollen, and Steve feels his dick start to get interested when he glances down to watch the rubber nozzle slip past Bucky’s pink and pulsing rim.

If you were mine … he thinks covetously, Bucky’s plaintive whimpers echoing alongside the treacherously unprofessional thoughts in his head. If Bucky were his, they wouldn’t be in this horrible, institutionally puke-green tiled bathroom right now. They’d be in Steve’s home, in bed or in some little space in the apartment that Bucky had chosen to nest. Steve would be fucking his mate naturally instead of using all this artificial crap.

If Bucky were his, he wouldn’t even be regressed like this in the first place, because he would know down to the marrow of his bones that he was loved and wanted. Steve would make sure of it. He’d keep him healthy and happy and satisfied. Maybe Bucky would even be pregnant for real, bred up all fat and happy with Steve’s pups. Steve can’t stop thinking about the drawing that Bucky did in art therapy, how he’d drawn himself pregnant in the picture. He’d expressed uncertainty about pregnancy, but maybe if it were Steve’s pup inside him, Bucky wouldn’t mind it then. Maybe everything would balance out in his system, if Steve put a litter in him. Maybe it would make Bucky happy if he—

On the bed, Bucky whines, and Steve shakes his head and huffs at himself. If, if, if. Too bad he doesn’t get paid for Ifs. “Get it together, Rogers,” he mutters, and reaches down to grind the heel of his hand punishingly against his trapped dick—It helps, somewhat. He grasps the hand pump for the knotting mechanism and squeezes it, observing Bucky carefully as he slowly but surely inflates the rubber bulb to its full size inside the omega’s body.

Bucky’s unseeing eyes blink up at the ceiling, glossy with unshed tears. “Ahn, ahn, ah,” he grunts softly. “Ugn, ugn, ah …”

Steve uses his free hand to rub over his lower belly. “You’re okay. It’s okay, Buck. S’that feel nice? I bet it does, huh? Don’t worry, Sweetheart. You just relax now for Alpha, mkay? Alpha’s gonna make it feel good.” He’s sure it’s not the actual words, so much as it is the sound of his voice that Bucky recognizes, but even still, it’s nice to see the way that Bucky responds to him. “That’s right,” he soothes. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy for Alpha, Buck. Alpha loves you.”

He starts the flow, remaining at Bucky’s side and massaging his tummy gently while the machine begins to pump.

The therapy mimics a pregnancy in that it fills the patient’s body with a physical weight. It inflates the colon and the uterus and mimics the influx of hormones that a growing fetus would create. These physical cues help to trick the brain into thinking an actual pregnancy is taking place, and it’s that input—in addition to the naturally calming feeling of the knot itself—which forcibly tells the omega brain that it is safe and bred, wanted and protected. Only a strong and dominant alpha can keep an omega successfully bred up, after all—that’s what the basest parts of a regressed omega’s mind hang onto. And Bucky is currently fully regressed.

His thumb is back up in his mouth already, sucking away. Steve rumbles in his chest in answer to every grunt and moan that Bucky makes, rubbing his tummy for him as he slowly but surely fills out from the liquid. Steve’s sitting on a stool beside the bed, down by Bucky’s bottom where the warm blanket doesn’t cover, so he can clearly see the twitch of the boy’s taught little sac, the way his shrunken prick is getting chubby underneath the swell of his belly. He frees one hand up from the belly massage and rubs him there, smiling tenderly at the pleased chirp he gets for his efforts. “Yeah,” he whispers, working the head between his fingers like he would a female patient’s clit, nice and delicate, gliding gently from the precum his little dick keeps blurting out. “S’that feel nice, baby?”

Bucky grunts in an adorably demanding way and shoves his butt down against the knotting mechanism to stimulate himself harder with it. Steve chuckles and uses his other hand to tug on the nozzle, rocking the inflated rubber knot nice and steady against the swollen glands inside. Bucky makes a very happy noise at that, and when Steve looks up at his face, he sees the omega staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes, hand fallen away from his mouth as he pants open-mouthed and drools. A wave of renewed want hits Steve so hard, he almost feels like he’s taken a punch to the gut. “Oh, bub,” he whispers, feeling his eyes start to heat with the threat of tears. He wants to take care of Bucky so bad that it hurts. Just absolutely fucking aches. He thumbs under his cockhead a little faster, and is able to pull the next orgasm out of him within seconds.

Bucky sobs, voice caught high and pleasure-pained in his throat, still non-verbal and lost in his own head. Steve swallows heavily and glances over at the enema bags. “Almost there,” he says, forcing himself to go back to rubbing Bucky’s belly as the boy takes the last quart of semen inside his body. “Doing so well, Buck,” Steve praises, running both of his big hands over the swell of his belly.

Fuck, he really does look pregnant. With his muscles all lax from the regression, and a couple liters of cum inside him, he’s filled out enough that he looks like he could be about four months pregnant. Steve eases him through the rest of the remaining bag, praising him with a bunch of rambling words when the machine cuts off from its pumping cycle. He removes the tubing from the knot and rolls the machine back out of the way, goes to grab another couple of warm blankets from the cabinet and drapes them over Bucky’s midsection and legs so that he’s totally covered and encased in warmth.

The boy sighs and grunts happily at the sensations, and Steve smiles down at him. “I know, Love, I know. That feels really good, huh? That’s what we want. Need to show your body that everything’s okay. Make you feel like a mommy for just a little while.” Bucky’s not really hearing him or seeing him, but Steve refuses to believe that the sound of his voice doesn’t have any effect. Bucky knows his voice, he does. Steve knows he does.

Bucky’s eyes are barely open. The tears that’ve been glazing over for so long have gathered at the corners and trickled down his temples as he lies there and feels his body telling him it’s pregnant. The knot is keeping him plugged up and the liquid will have made it past his cervix by now, filling him up with a warm, heavy pressure. Steve remains close and rubs his bloated belly from overtop the blankets, maintaining a steady stream of praise in his ear.

When it’s been a good half hour or so, Bucky begins to show signs of emerging from the fugue. His eyes seem to track Steve’s movements more, and he starts to become more aware of his surroundings. He doesn’t have his words back yet, because he looks to Steve and whimpers and whines little helpless sounds, rather than asking questions about what’s going on or what’s happened. Steve hurries to hold his hand and reassure him. “Shh sh sh. Hey, you back with me, Sweetheart? Hi.” He smiles gently and pets his face. “You’re doing great. Took your treatment so well, Baby.”

Bucky wiggles in place, and Steve can see the moment he recognizes the heaviness in his belly. His hands go there, touching the swell of himself, and Steve nods and places a hand on top. “Yeah, that’s right. We’ve got your tummy all filled up. It’s okay. Just a little inflation therapy. S’it feel nice?”

Bucky looks shocked, and incredibly vulnerable, but not upset. His eyes still leak sluggish tears as he nods at Steve. “...‘pha?” he warbles, the tail end of what is probably the only word he’s capable of articulating right now.

Steve’s face pinches and he smiles and nods. “That’s right, bub. Alpha’s right here takin’ care of you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Bucky whimpers, dazed, and his eyes slip closed again. But down below, on the distended curve of his belly, he hooks his pinky finger over Steve’s.

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