#because i love the idea of a few parents just pooling their offspring together and caring for them as if they're all their iwn

[transingthoseformers]

Just a tiny bit more of worldbuilding for Sharkitron au: Since sharks have two uterus, twins are the norm. No intrauterine cannibalism here. But if for some reason only one fetus develops, it's generally considered a sign they're going to be big as adults. Like Megatron!

Also I don't know if Terminus or Termagax would be his carrier. They're twins though.

Ghskzhlfjgd sHARKITRON AU FUCKING YESSSSSS

I feel like I can run a coin toss on which is his carrier, and I'm still running with my shark nursery idea actually, and you're entirely correct! This does tell us that Megatron here is likely a viviparous species, which typically with sharks I think the larger ones are indeed typically are livebearing? If I can recall, only a few species of shark have the intrauterine cannibalism, as it's uncommon enough to be a "uwu! Look how neat this is!" Thing in documentaries.

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Prologue

ahhh finally posting this fic that I’ve had a bare-bones outline for, for over a year. I absolutely adore the idea behind this fic and the world that I am creating for it. If you like what you read here, please follow my blog for updates. My goal is to update this series at least once every two weeks, but I will likely post the first few chapters in the next couple of weeks. I look forward to growing this au, reblog if you enjoy! 

dystopian!au / futuristic!au 

Series info/genre: Angset, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual) Warnings: this series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any. Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it? Word count: 1569 (future chapters will be longer, this is just a prologue!)

In a world where social status is determined by looks, it’s beneficial to have the label ‘designer baby’. 

In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are now what society considers a ‘designer baby’. This term designer baby, coined in 2051 when scientists in Sweden successfully incubated a baby to term by splicing different genes together, is what people call babies born in a lab. It is commonplace now for people to walk into a lab, go through a catalog of traits, pick out their favorites, pay a high price tag, and wait about 9 months for their baby to fully incubate. Then they can take their new bundle of joy home without all the pain (and sometimes heartbreak) of a pregnancy and labor. Most expecting mothers never go through pregnancy anymore, and labor and delivery wards have become nearly obsolete in the richer areas of the world. In their place, companies began to spring up on nearly every street corner that allowed hopeful parents to pick out their future offspring. 

The process was actually incredibly simple. Scientists are able to take the DNA of both prospective parents, and splice their genes with other genes of their choosing by removing certain markers for things like eye color while not compromising the parents original DNA structure, and create a zygote in a lab. After about 9-10 months of incubation, this zygote will eventually become the perfect baby, or at least, those parents' version of the perfect baby. The only reason the practice took so long to take off was because of the many protests and movements that took place in the late 2000’s. After the first designer baby was successfully ‘born’, people began to protest the process, saying that it was ‘messing with fate’ and that people shouldn’t have that much power over other humans. After decades of fighting and protests, the first designer baby company launched in 2108, in Seoul, South Korea. Since then, there have been smaller groups and nonprofit organizations that try to fight against gene splicing, but it is mostly accepted worldwide. 

Always at the forefront of technology, it was no surprise that the first designer baby company was in Seoul. Hundreds of years later, the largest population of designer babies and companies still reside in Seoul. Over 75% of the population of South Korea is made up of people who were created in labs and have the perfect balance of genes. Some call the country the most beautiful place on Earth. 600 years ago, people would say that because of its rich culture, and scenic countrysides. Now, it’s because the citizens are nice to ogle at. 

Designer babies are so common in South Korea, that schools, office buildings, and even entire apartment complexes were built for them. In today’s society, your job, your relationships, and your status is determined by how beautiful you are. It’s easy to tell who is a designer baby and who isn’t. Most people born in labs have distinct features, mostly from the same pool of genes. You see, after a while, scientists started running out of natural DNA to use that people still thought was unique enough. Now, most designer babies have features that stem from the same catalogs, as they are the most popular. Sure, they’re pretty, but they’re beginning to look a lot alike. 

Part of the reason natural DNA is so hard to find now, is because a lot of designer babies end up procreating with what scientists dubbed ‘natural borns’, or people with 100% natural DNA, and so most people's DNA is muddled throughout generations. These people are not good candidates for gene splicing as the outcome is not easily controlled. Coming across a true natural born is extremely rare these days and the ones you do find are almost always average looking in society's eyes, so labs don’t bother trying to splice them. It’s not that there are NO natural borns willing to give up their DNA. Companies have applicants all the time, what with the hefty sum they pay their donors, but most do not make it past the application stage once said companies determine their genes unusable for various reasons.

Another problem laboratories run into is the willingness of participants in donating their DNA. The process isn’t as simple as a cheek swab. Once applicants learn about the often painful procedures involved in donating, they tend to back out before signing a contract. These contracts, depending on the company, usually requires the donors to live on company property until they have successfully spliced their DNA. This process involves the donor to take different cocktails of drugs, be put under anesthetic, and be poked and prodded by scientists for weeks at a time. It isn’t the most comfortable thing to go through, but they’re often offered substantial compensation, especially now with the shortage of true natural borns. Some larger companies have been accused in the past of abusing their donors, locking them in prison-like cells and depriving them of food and water, treating them as nothing more than a business transaction, which has also caused natural borns to stray away from donating.

Finding natural borns, or at least partial natural borns isn’t all that hard, though, as most natural borns live in smaller communities outside of larger cities. Because the population of designer babies only continues to grow, most employers no longer hire average looking people. There are even separate schools and hospitals that cater specifically to natural borns, often run by natural borns, since there are a significant portion of designer babies who do not socialize with naturals. Naturals are often considered low-class, and are looked down upon by those in high society. The crime rates against natural borns is becoming increasingly high, which has unfortunately pushed a lot of them outside of metropolitan areas. This resulted in a new social hierarchy where natural borns are at the bottom of the food chain, often poor or even homeless, struggling to find jobs. 

In recent years there have been more protests and rallies ran by both designer babies and natural borns who believe in rights for everyone, they are humans after all,  to try and fight against the discrimination that is heavily ingrained in today’s culture, but not much headway has been made yet. Currently, all world leaders and politicians are designer babies, so going up against them hasn’t been the easiest. 

Because protests are happening more often, companies are having to be even more discreet when it comes to ‘scouting’ potential candidates for donating DNA. They’ve become more desperate to find the new and innovating genes, something unique and different that will drive business in time where labs are a dime a dozen and new genes are hard to come by. 

You would know all about that, though. You are living in a small rural town outside of Seoul with your mother and father, both natural borns. Your family has owned a peach farm for the last few decades and makes enough money to upkeep the small orchard by selling to local markets and restaurants. You’ve been approached multiple times by companies, offering enticing amounts of money to you and your parents, promising things like apartments in the city, college tuition, and fancy cars, if you sold them your DNA. You were a true natural born, a rarity, especially in Korea. Not only did you have pure DNA, but you were unique. You weren’t average looking, no you were ethereal, gorgeous, spectacular in many people's eyes. Not for the reasons that you would’ve liked, though.

People only wanted you for your DNA. Whether it be companies who wanted to splice your genes, or other natural borns who wanted to court you and keep you for themselves, breed you and sell their children off to make a quick buck. It was sick, and that’s why your family kept you close. After you graduated high school, you didn’t attend university and didn’t get a job. You stayed on the farm and helped out your father in the orchard. You knew the dangers of the big companies and citizens alike who only wanted to use you. It made you wary of people, shy, and sometimes insecure about your own person. Your parents did their best to keep you safe, shield you from the horrors of the world, and make sure you felt loved. But oftentimes, you felt lonely, left out, especially when you didn’t have many friends. You felt like an outsider, and even though you were considered incredibly beautiful, you didn’t feel like it.

Growing up wasn’t the easiest for you, having gone to a poor, all natural born school from preschool until you graduated. You didn’t have many friends, most of your classmates bullied you, telling you that you didn’t belong there, that there was no way you weren’t one of those designer babies from the big city and that your parents were lying to you, or you were adopted and didn’t know. These comments were hard to hear, but in the end, you know the truth. You are a pure natural born, and your parents loved you and would do anything to protect you.

But when a mysterious company won’t leave you alone about donating your DNA, you start to question your parents protectiveness over you. Among other things, your biggest question was; what made you so special? 

To be continued...

[tleecacc]

Virginia Lee

My mom came into this world on November 11, 1922. She loved that she was born 11/11/22. And she loved that it was something genuinely unique. That it held all the axioms of synchronicity. 

She often proudly told the story of when she was born, how she was so tiny the doctor’s did not expect her to live. As a last resort, a last ditch effort to save her life, the doctor gave my mother horse serum. Apparently that was a thing. And when she made it through the night, the doctor came in the next morning to tell her mother and father that miraculously she was gaining strength. He said to her parents, my grandmother Eulalia, and grandfather Daniel, ‘this little girl is a fighter’ …That she was.

She was born into an era that included the great depression. She lived through a world war, and so many incredible changes that the 20th century presented its almost unfathomable. Some of which she out right rejected, others she eventually either accepted or adopted. Her first microwave oven was used as a bread box for years before she agreed to learn to use it properly. She was the original, ultimate minimalist. She saved wax paper, rubber bans, bread bags and aluminum foil. She abhorred the idea of just throwing things away after one use, which culminated in receiving food gifts wrapped in layers wax paper, encased in at least two bread bags, held tightly together with six rubber bans. She was also a vitamin freak and insisted on a well balanced diet. We were not allowed to leave the house without drinking orange juice that was kept in as air tight a container as possible, so as not to lose its rich life giving force. She detested impracticality. We’d by her gifts to make her life easier but she would eventually admit to one or another of us, ‘Its so unnecessary, I don’t need it’ ‘I’ll never use it. My old (fill in the blank) works just fine’ etc. 

I thought she was the most gentle person ever to touch her feet to this earth. And I believed she couldn’t possibly love anyone as much as she did my brother’s and sisters and I, until she met her grandchildren. My mother held an extraordinary amount of love in her heart for each of them.

She found her spiritual path in the love and devotion she exhibited towards her family everyday of her life, and to every person she encountered, with few exceptions. She prayed for all of us everyday. Harder if she thought we were in special need, a heart was aching, someone's health was in question, a soul was at risk… or you spent time in bars which is the same thing…  so yeah, she prayed a lot. 

My mother was one of 11 children born to Daniel and Eulalia May. When you come from large families such as ours, you can spew out the names of your offspring or siblings in successive order as if it were one name. For my Mother’s family it was

BobDorthyVirginiaMaryRitaBillLoraineDaveDanBarbaraTom. And by the time my mother was 14 years old, she was a mother to her 8 younger siblings, as her mother was rarely well. She never complained about that role. She loved her brothers and sisters and was devoted to their care. She loved each of them and their individual take on life. She was very proud of the life they each garnered for themselves and their children. She was happy to see them living in a world less harsh than the childhood they endured. She held an extraordinary capacity of love in her heart for each of them. And she took their needs on without the least bit of resentment or regret. 

My mother’s family moved 17 times in her years at home. In a family with six gorgeous women you can imagine the stir it caused within each neighborhood they were adopted into. They were the May girls. With their flowing red, auburn and black heads of hair, their Miss America smiles and that undeniable May sense of fun loving humor. To say they were gregarious almost doesn’t do their personalities justice. 

My momma was beautiful, physically and spiritually. She loved her life. She was radiant in the outdoors and pushed us daily to be out in the fresh air. She was athletic. Mom made the varsity field hockey team as a freshman. She never drove a car and so walked everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Which may explain the athletic prowess of her children. As toddlers, when the newest sibling took over your spot in the stroller, we had to run along side her to keep up. Although she only stood four foot eleven, she had legs that moved incredibly fast. This tiny, feisty, determined woman walked everywhere and loved every minute of it, so it was hard on all of us to see the loss of that freedom in the recent months when her health finally took that joyful ability away. 

According to my mother, the advent of television was humanities downfall, and she was determined to get us children out of doors in the fresh air. She loved picnics in the park and spending time in our large back yard (‘you can’t find a back yard like that just anywhere’). She took us places on busses when my dad did not. We rode to the Art museum, Steinberg, downtown, the Muny free seats, all of forest park really and of course Cardinal Glennon Hospital. A place I believe they new her by name. She made sure we learned to swim, rode bikes, and spent as much time as possible at Jamieson park. She ensured we ran, play ball of any and every kind. All of which we each embraced and learned to love. And to this day we, each of us appreciates her love of nature, because she instill that same love in each of us.

We woke every morning to a good, most often hot breakfast. We were not allowed to escape without first downing a glass of orange juice. Our nutrition was high on her list. Good food on our plates was something she did not often have as a child and often went hungry. I think she is the only person I know who actually did walk uphill to and from school…in worn-out clothes and ill fitting shoes. So to my mother, giving your children what you didn’t have meant that we had everything that was important. Sometimes more, but never less. 

She made Christmas Eve our best family celebration every single year. And the tradition goes on today, and will never fade if most of us have our way. It was one occasion that brought us together without fail with all of our clashing personalities, boisterous voices, our loud laughter, and our undying competitive spirits. And an occasional cartwheel from Uncle Laurie. It wasn’t always easy. It was always crowded. And nothing gave her greater joy than to see us all hugging and joking and telling stories, especially if they were about her. She never once let us for a minute question her deep abiding love for us, and she laced all of it with her Irish, indelible May family sense of humor. 

My mother was hilarious and she’d be the first one to let that be known. Her sense of humor was one of her great attributes and oh so contagious. My mom instilled in us a basic truth, that one can get through any hardship with prayer and an ability to laugh at ones own foibles. Besides, they made for better stories. And she was the ultimate storyteller, often laughing harder than everyone in the room. She’d sometimes be laughing so hard you couldn’t make out the punch line. And she loved a good practical joke. She once turned off the kitchen lights and laid herself out on the floor, playing dead, to scare my brother Scott, after he and my brother Chris had just spent an hour telling my sisters and me scary stories in the dark. Stories and antics that made us scream with fear and laughter, except maybe Laurie. She screamed alright but then burst into tears….of course…Because Laurie cries at everything so, grain of salt. But man she got him good. And laid there on the floor laughing so hard her belly shook.

She had the most contagious smile. Broad and genuinely warm and engaging. Her laugh was the most incredible music I’ve ever known. If she was telling you a story that she found particularly hilarious, it was all she could do to get the words out as she could hardly breathe. In those moments it didn’t matter that you might not be able to understand her, her joy was a gift.

She made our life so amazing. Nine kids in a 2 bedroom house with a 1/2 story attic big enough for 5 girls to share, like a dorm room. A finished basement where we could roller skate when it rained, or play ping pong or pool and a room that held a zillion board games, blocks, bats, balls, snow suits and boots, a record player, dart board, and the electric trains we set up every Christmas. She taught us to play cards, and never complained when we turned up the stereo or radio when we girls were doing dishes, or dad was out of the house. 

She pitched whiffle balls, set up our croquet game or let us use her clothes line for badminton or volleyball. She let us dig in the dirt, play with the hose when it was hot, had my dad build us a sand box and a swing set. She taught us how to cross stitch and made paste with flour and water to stick our construction paper cutouts together. She was unstoppable. She was the ultimate mother. I am who I am today because on 11/11/22, the day God took his wand and cast stardust across the universe and breathed life into my sweet sweet mother, the tiny infant that was not expected to live. She fought for her own life and that of her children and grandchildren with love and prayer and sheer determination. She fought with a deep love for life and heart felt prayer from her soul, for each of us.

The last day she was awake, she gave me a message to pass on to her children. It was a moment I will never forget for the remainder of my own days, and worth repeating often.

‘Tell the children I said goodbye. 

Tell them that I love them so much.

Tell them to be good to their mother’s and dads, they love them so much

I love them so much’

I said, I promise momma, I love you so much

She said, ‘I love you more.’…I love you more. How could I ever argue that.

Addendum:

Since the funeral, I have wanted to finish my acknowledgments of the remainder of my siblings that I did not mention at church. Sorry, I lost if after Peggy…

To:

My brother Christopher Dennis, for all the quiet stoic patience that my mother instilled in you. I remember how you always got on your bike and ran errand for mom as a kid. How you took on babysitting duties and made those times fun for us. How you rarely, if ever, complained about life in the middle of 9 kids. How much joy you gave her with the attention and love you gave to our brother Mark. It made her so happy. Mom loved you so much and I could always see her appreciation of you and your gentle way of being. When I look at you, I see that part of her in you.

Mark Joseph, wish you could read and understand me so I could tell you how incredibly much she loved you. Words could never convey.

James, I’m happy she is finally able to bestow all of herself on you now.

Carol Lee. Mom loved you so so deeply. She worried about you constantly, and was so grateful to be able to be there for you in the hard times you suffered from a disease doctors knew very little about in your younger years. She was always so happy to hear your sweet voice on the phone, and to know you were okay. I know she hated leaving you. Thank you for always staying so closely connected to her.

Laurie Lee. She thought she was finished having her passel of children, but as she was apt to reminded you, she decided she had room for just one more, and that was you. I love how much you loved her. How you kept in contact with her and worried about her. You were her last and she enjoyed spoiling you with her time and attention in the years when you were the last be at home with her before grade school. She always noted your generous heart, and you are more like her in that way than many, you just cry more…then again maybe not. She was so proud of you and how hard you worked for the sisters. You are so devoted to your own family, and working for the nuns is almost as good as having a priest for a son…, but not quite so don’t get a big May head about it. Lucy I am so grateful to have been there, to bare whitness, as you, her youngest child, knowing this would probably be her last meal bravely spoon feed her, through tears of course, that last bit of ice cream. I will never forget it.

Finally I come to Scott David. This one, will get to me the most. I spent many hours over my lifetime watching my mom with her own struggles, for her strength to take care of her brood with little sleep, for her ability to keep going after a particularly difficult day with the Bear, which were many, to fight her own depression from being overwhelmed with the enormity of the load she bore everyday from the sheer logistics of her life. But you Scottie were my hero in that. You could make mom laugh with just a one liner as you came barreling through the door. You were a true angel in mom’s life and therefore all of our lives. You brought her more joy with your own May sense of humor than all of us put together. You made her day, everyday that you were near her, and for that I could never repay you. I relished every single moment of watching you, with your quick and whitty sense of irony, make her laugh, make her smile, make her silently giggle. Thank you for all the Johnnie Carson nights you spent with her. I enjoyed watching the two of you at that hour more than any other hour of the day, because you could always bring her relief with your own joy of life. Thank you for all the practical jokes you put up with from her. They were the best and I was always on board with being in on them. You as much as mom taught me that with a humor, everything, no matter how difficult, can be made better, could be eased. I can never find the words to express how much hope you brought back to us when you lifted her spirits. Thank you for giving her so much joy. I don’t know what she would have done without you in her life.

Love you Momma,

Theresa Lee 

[electricbluebutterflies]

i heard you want some prompts (smutty oneesss) but also like fluff is cute you know? so like kabby+ pregnant smuff????

Usual indefinitely-canon-divergent ‘verse, raaather NSFW, and also on AO3.

Fact - Abby Griffin hates being pregnant.

She's willing to tough through it a second time for the end result, mind you. The idea of her partner's expressive dark eyes being removed from the gene pool was not appealing to her, and hell, she's curious what their genetic mix is going to create. She wants the kid too, wants nothing more in this world than to chase her offspring around and cuddle with them and maybe not fuck this one up quite as much as she did with Clarke. (Not that she blames herself for all of that, but maybe if she'd been a better mother… ah, nevermind, Clarke was always a little too much Jake for her own good and no amount of parenting could've changed that.) Abby has more than enough reasons to tough through the next few months, but still - she hates being pregnant.

The current tradeoff for her own self-loathing, however, is that her partner has rather different feelings about the current state of her body.

Easy for him, Abby can't help thinking. He doesn't have to live in this stupid body that is currently swollen in all the wrong places, reacts poorly to temperature… reacts poorly to everything, really, in ways that make her wonder how the human race has survived so long. But Marcus, who just has to watch her personal hell, thinks it's beautiful. So maybe there are a few upsides to this incubation period.

Right now, however, is not an upside. Right now, Abby is praying to things she doesn't believe in that their door stays locked because she is standing naked in the middle of their space and she feels like she is on fire and the idea of putting on clothes again at any point in the near future is very unappealing. Which is going to be extremely awkward when some crisis inevitably happens before her hot flash is over and god, whomever taught half the kids to pick locks is going to have problems if they're still alive and she ever finds out who they are and-

Hey, at least she knows sounds enough to know that an actual key is in the lock right now, which means it's probably just her partner and she'll be okay. Probably.

Sure enough, the door opens just enough for Marcus to slip in and promptly drop whatever he's holding (it looks vaguely like a notebook but Abby is slightly distracted and isn't sure). Over a year together and he's still in awe of her, although she supposes her physical transformation might have something to do with it. Point is, she'll never get sick of the way he looks at her, like she's glowing and not just in the pregnancy way, like she is the most beautiful thing his eyes will ever see. Worshipful, almost, and yet-

"Are you alright?" he asks, voice slow like he's not sure that's even the right question.

"Hot flash," Abby shrugs. Not, in the grand scheme of things, one of the weirder side effects she's had lately. "Don't judge."

"I'm not…"

She moves towards him, close close close, and presses her lips to his for a heartbeat. "Reflexes," she breathes against his skin. "Let me have this."

"Anything I can do?"

"Not sure. Anything you have in mind?"

She knows where this leads, or at least where she wants it to, but it's more fun when she baits until he moves. So much more fun to watch Marcus's precious composure slip - okay, fine, he's not as obsessed with appearing bulletproof as he used to be but there are still echoes of that trait - and watch him become someone else. Someone only she truly knows, someone who only exists within the sanctity of this space.

Someone who has no trouble with pulling her into an embrace, hands wandering up and down her back, exploring and savoring and kissing her at just the right moment to distract her so perfectly.

"Hormones in our favor?" he asks when they come up for air, before this goes further.

"Far as I know." If the warmth blossoming in her core is any indication…

"Good."

She still hates the current form of her body, but she hates it a little less when her partner shows such gentleness. He takes sweet time with her, touches places that were not this sensitive five months ago, and oh she could get used to this. Is used to it, really.

"What do you want, Abby?"

"Just keep touching me. I can't… I still feel like I'm on fire, so…"

"It's okay." He cups her face with his hands and makes cautious eye contact. "I want to make you happy. That's what matters here."

"I have about zero desire to touch you right now. Just letting you know."

"I can live with that."

(God, she's not used to him compromising. Not this easily, at least.)

She closes her eyes and gives in.

So easy, this. So easy to trust and let Marcus do what he will, let his fingers trace beautiful patterns on her thighs and his mouth close around an aching nipple and then a finger slips up and grazes her clit and oh, one thing she does not hate about this pregnancy is it takes almost nothing to get her off and oh, good, please.

If she has to be overwhelmed so completely, there's no other way she'd prefer.

Her body comes down and she halfway collapses against him, almost laughing as she processes the utter ridiculousness of her life and current position. Sometimes it doesn't even feel real, and sometimes-

"Everything alright?"

"I might be in shock," Abby murmurs. "Maybe."

"Love you too," he replies, gently kissing her forehead.

"Weird hormones and all?"

"Weird hormones and all."

[nightglider124]

Learning

I was watching Moana the other day and her little baby waddle was too cute and then obviously, Mar’i came to mind.

Because, let’s face it. We all love a bit of domestic DickKory with their offspring, amirite?

A warm smile formed upon his lips as her two little fists gripped his thumbs tightly whilst he aided her on her apparent mission.

"Easy, Starshine. We don't want you toppling over." Dick soothed as he watched his daughter wriggle in frustration.

A twinkling giggle sounded from a metre or so in front of them.

"Was it not you who once said you must learn to fall before you fly, my love?" She quipped, giving him a teasing smile.

Dick playfully narrowed his eyes at his wife, "That I did, Star but... it's different with her."

The dark haired girl who was on the very edge of waiting and was raring to move, glanced up at her father, blinking her giant emerald eyes at him in anticipation.

He sighed, "Ready Mar'i?"

Squealing, the almost 1 year old bounced up and down, signalling her answer.

"Okay..." He stated, hesitantly releasing her tiny hands, "Go to mama, sweetie."

Mar'i blinked at first as if all had gone from her mind. Instinct told her to get down on her knees and merely crawl. Another part of her, told her to keep moving on her feet.

Tendrils of ebony hair fell around their baby's face as she glanced down at her toes, which she subsequently wriggled against the material of the carpet.

Looking up again, the familiar face of her mother filled her vision.

Starfire reached her arms out in Mar'i's direction, cooing and smiling, "Come, my little bumgorf. You can do it!" She sang, closing and opening her hands in rapid succession.

A great big smile formed on Mar'i's face and she was immediately drawn to her mother's voice, laced with enthusiasm and warmth. She brought a wobbly foot up before planting it down again just in front of her.

It was a little step, but a step nonetheless.

Mar'i looked around at her father, who was still cautiously watching, hands at the ready to catch her if she fell. Something she would later learn that would always be a thing within her family. Her parents, always ready to catch her when she needed them to.

With a delighted giggle, Mar'i clapped her chubby little hands and walked another step, and another, her eyes on her mother's kind face.

As she neared somewhat closer, her green eyes brightened at the prospect of how close her mother was now. She reached out her hands towards the red headed woman and made an abundance of determined noises.

Starfire breathed a laugh and shifted so that she was sitting on her knees, "Yes! You are almost there, my little one!" She bubbled, coaxing her little girl even closer.

Mar'i waddled, finally getting to grips with this whole "walking" thing. Her plump little legs hurried along, desperate to get a hug from her mama.

Just a few more steps.

With a high-pitched squeal, Mar'i deliberately fell forwards, allowing Starfire to scoop her up beneath her arms. She giggled as Starfire beamed and held her up high, all the while with Mar'i still kicking her legs in joy.

"Oh! Well done, my little Mar'i! Oh, I am so very proud of you!" Starfire fussed,

She brought her back down and cuddled her baby close, kissing her mop of dark hair. Mar'i felt the warmth in her cheeks. She was tired but she felt extremely happy, her mother's cheerfulness clearly evident in her.

Mar'i lifted her head from Starfire's chest to watch as her father crawled over to sit before his two girls. He grinned down at her and pressed loving kisses all over her adorable face, ruffling her black hair with his hand.

"That's my girl!" He praised, giving her chin a little tickle causing her to squirm.

Starfire smiled softly as a mischievous giggle sounded from Mar'i. She rested her cheek atop her daughter's head as her dark green eyes drifted up to meet Dick's cobalt ones.

"Our baby is growing up so fast..." She murmured, tightening her arms around the girl in question,

He returned her wistful expression before smirking and wriggling his eyebrows at her, "Well then, I guess we'll just have to make more, huh?" He cheeked,

Starfire rolled her eyes and gave him a light kick with her foot.

He chuckled, "What? You wouldn't be opposed to having more, would you?"

She gazed at him. His voice betrayed his nonchalant façade. She could hear it; the hope that was laced within that small statement.

"You wish for more, my love."

He swallowed, "Only if you want to..."

Stretching her free hand across the space between them, she caressed his thigh with a gentle expression, "Perhaps we should."

His eyes lit up, "Really?"

Starfire nodded, a warmth pooling in her belly at how excited he got at the mere suggestion.

"However, we shall discuss that later." She told him, turning Mar'i upon her lap,

"First, I believe this little one deserves some of the zorkaberry pie, no?"

Mar'i perked up immediately, blinking at her with a pleading expression.

"Would you like that, Mar'i?" She cooed, rubbing her baby's little belly.

The ebony haired girl nodded quickly and beamed at her mother, showing her desire for the aforementioned treat.

"You spoil her too much with sweets, Star. She's already a chub." Dick pointed out, earning a sudden glare from his daughter,

"She deserves it. She has been working so very hard at walking." Starfire countered, causing Mar'i to smirk.

Dick raised an eyebrow at his daughter, "Alright, alright. I'll go get some, your highnesses."

He jumped to his feet and wandered into the kitchen, leaving Starfire with their child.

"Mm, daddy worries too much..." Starfire whispered,

Mar'i giggled, playing with a piece of her mother's gorgeous red hair.

"Oh, Mar'i... you are learning things so quickly. It shall not be long until your powers begin to develop." Starfire smirked, "Daddy will love when that happens."

Her daughter let go of her hair and tilted her head. Starfire stared down into her tiny face and brushed some of her dark locks behind her ear.

"Mm... you may discover your flight soon... or your strength... or..." She trailed off and lifted the hand that was not wrapped around Mar'i, supporting her.

Starfire's hand lit up, a starbolt surrounding her fingers. The bright green was dazzling and Mar'i was in an instant trance. She always loved seeing her mother's powers. The energy from her was so sparkly and bright. It was hard not to stare.

Mar'i carefully reached out a hand to touch the glowing energy, only for Starfire to pull her hand slightly out of reach whilst biting her lip.

She didn't know what would happen if Mar'i got too close yet. She was only half Tamaranian. The human side of her was what conflicted her. Dick had got several burns over the years after getting a bit too close whilst she held a starbolt.

With big, questioning eyes from Mar'i, Starfire decided to take a chance.

She carefully brought her hand back for Mar'i to touch. Their child; a tiny girl with absolutely no fear. She dove straight in and lifted a hand into the mass of green light.

Starfire blinked; shocked that Mar'i was in fact playing with the energy of the starbolt, apparently amazed by it.

Mar'i cooed and giggled as she played whilst Starfire could hardly move, extremely surprised that she had no burns or abrasions and showed no sign of pain. She tilted her head, assuming that it was highly likely her little girl would indeed inherit her starbolts. It was the only reason for her apparent immunity.

"Dick..." Starfire hissed, trying not to disturb her daughter,

She could hear his humming from the kitchen and rolled her eyes, inwardly mocking his constant statement of "superb hearing".

"Richard..." She called, a little louder.

Nothing.

"Dick!" She called, only jolting Mar'i a little in the process.

He appeared at the doorway immediately, panting.

"What's-"

He paused at the sight.

Starfire held her breath and smiled at him.

"How... how is she doing that?" He asked, carrying the bowl of zorkaberry pie for his little girl.

Starfire shook her head and let the starbolt die so Mar'i could chow down on the confection Dick had brought out.

Whilst Mar'i began chomping happily on the pie, Starfire watched her.

"I... she must have an immunity... perhaps it is because she already has the same ability or because she is half Tamaranian... or because she is simply my child... it is extraordinary..."

"Great." Dick huffed, crossing his legs on the floor, "So, I'm the only one in this family who gets burnt from starbolts. Awesome."

Starfire giggled and softly touched her husband's cheek.

"Do not pout, my love. You are so very skilled at most things, it would be unfair if you were also starbolt resilient." She grinned,

He gave into a small smirk and kissed the palm of her hand that was still resting against his face. Reaching up, he laced their fingers together and glanced at his daughter who was a zorkaberry mess right about now.

"I am not on face washing duty with our little darling, tonight. Mommy lets her have pie, mommy can clean said pie from her face." Dick snarked,

"That sounds quite fair." Starfire shrugged,

He sighed, "So... do we have any idea when her powers will start coming through?"

Starfire shook her head, stealing a forkful of Mar'i's treat, "No." She said after swallowing the bite, "it is difficult to pinpoint when exactly they will start showing. My powers are not ones from birth, as you recall... they will be a surprise, I am certain."

Dick groaned and leaned his head back against his shoulders, "Powers and later, transformation... Tamaranian physiology is fuuun." He droned,

His wife smiled and tugged him closer, pecking his lips, "This is what you signed up for, Mr Grayson... remember?"

He smirked, "Yes. I certainly do."

[pruittwrites]

Barley Candy And Chicken Bones

“Barley candy and chicken bones for Christmas, it’s a Canadian tradition.” Zack told an unbelieving Emiko. “In Tokyo we drink barley tea, and eat fried chicken on Christmas.”

This dumbfounded Zack. “What do you eat for dessert, tuna ice cream?” Which he knew she had tried, but didn’t care for.

“It’s a whole lot better than fruit cake I’ll tell you that. Christmas dessert for us is what you call Strawberry Shortcake. Sponge cake shaped like a Christmas tree, with strawberries and whip cream.”

Zack smiled at his college bride. They had dated for six months before he proposed, and had planned a small wedding, with mostly family and a few friends. Through no fault of them, or their family, only friends made it to the wedding.

An emergency landing kept Emiko’s parents from making the ceremony. Thankfully they were all right. Zach’s Mom and Dad were both doctors at the same hospital, and emergency surgeries called them back at the last minute.

The couple had tried to postpone, but each parent insisted that the wedding not be ruined. The wedding was beautiful, and the Zach and Emiko’s friends had photographed and videoed every aspect of the wedding for each set of parents.

Anne and Marty, Aika and Hisashi had both felt horrible about it. So they reached out to the others and came with an idea to make it up to the two young people. They had went on a small honeymoon, putting most of the money towards a future home.

The Hobbs and Ishikawa families promised to give the couple a Christmas trip to anywhere they wanted. Now Zack and Emiko were dreaming of where that would be. They ruled out place by place, as they realized that this was one of those once in a lifetime family memory trips.

Family Memory Trips were what Marty had always called those adventures that Zack and his family talked about years later. Like the time they had went to Colorado to ski. It was the most fun he remembered anyone having with a broken leg.

His Dad had fell off the ski lift the first day, but he did his best to keep everyone else laughing. He didn’t find out til years later that his Dad was in severe pain, but didn’t want to ruin everyone’s trip.

Then there was the time they went camping in September. They didn’t tell the kids, but the reason for that trip were cut backs at the hospital, which eliminated the vacation budget that year. The kids didn’t know the difference.

Emiko listened for awhile, then added her own stories. Her Dad opened his own business when she was 13, and worked a lot of long hours. Still, for her birthday, he closed the shop, and spent the entire day with the family. He didn’t say anything, but her Mom told her he had lost a major client because of this.

Then she talked about the time her Mom had went through major surgery. That Christmas, they expected to be very low key, but her Mom decorated every room in the house. Story after story, they realized the sacrifices their parents had made for them.

“We can’t take the trip we were thinking about a few minutes ago can we?” Zack said, knowing her answer. “No, but we can do something much better.” As she picked up her phone to text her brother.

That night they both talked to their siblings, and worked out a plan. Instead of a major trip to some exotic place, they chose a small bed and breakfast near their home. Hank Crenshaw cut the price he charged Zack’s parents to almost nothing, just enough they hoped, for Marty not to make the connection. They split the remaining cost of the rooms with Sally, Zack’s sister.

Emiko called the local travel agent, and orchestrated her parents booking their tickets through her. Her brothers helped them with the cost for Aika and Hisashi.

Each set of parents didn’t say anything to them, but they were both suspicious. Still, they had promised to do whatever the kids wanted. So the four of them prepared for the Christmas trip.

Each were a little disappointed when the other siblings made excuses to keep their parents from buying their tickets. The two couples arrived a little sad, afraid the whole family wouldn’t be together for Christmas. It was a week before Christmas, but the kids had a plan.

Zack and Emiko knew they were the offspring of mystery lovers and crossword enthusiasts, so they had to give them an ‘aha’ moment without spoiling the entire surprise. So, when they got in the car that had been sent for them from the airport, Emiko’s oldest brother was the driver.

When they got to the hotel, Zack’s sister greeted them from the desk, where the hotel clerk would normally have been. Over the course of the first hour, each child surprised the parents with their presence. This was sure, they reasoned, to throw the four off their guard.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Zack and Emiko had planned different things, but those turned out not to be more monotonous than memorable. It was the unexpected moments that became special.

Marty couldn’t sleep that night because of his acid reflux, so he slipped downstairs to sit in the lobby and look at the decorations. Zack’s sister got her Mother’s looks, but her Father’s stomach. She was popping antacids as she walked down the steps. “Dad, why are you up?”

Seeing the pills in her hand replied. “I didn’t have those. Share with your Father.” Then after a few minutes he pulled out his phone. Sally was disappointed for a minute, afraid the special moment would be ruined by distraction.

“I’m not tweeting, I’m getting your brother and his pre-middle aged stomach out of bed to join us.” It took three rings, but soon he joined them, unshaven and hair out of place, still smiling.

The three of them didn’t go to bed until long after the antacids had kicked in. The only detriment was, breakfast became brunch for everyone the next morning, precautionary meds were the first course. Late nights were one thing, burping up dinner was another.

After this, Aika and Anne decided they were going shopping. The men thought they’d stay back while all the girls attacked the mall. The ladies didn’t think so. For love of their spouses, Hisashi, Genzo, Haruto, Zack, and Tom, Sally’s husband, all went to a mall before Christmas.

These are the men who ordered everything online two months ahead just to avoid this nightmare. They walked into every store, were attentive as the women found nothing to wear, then carried the bags of “nothing” all through the mall.

Coffees, popcorn, and all sorts of sweets were sampled. Pictures were taken with Santa, and yes, they all waited in line for an hour to get the pictures. The men even purchased the ugliest Christmas sweaters they could find. Much to the detriment of each spouse. It was a wonderful afternoon.

That night, Zack surprised them all with a sleigh ride through the snow that he had scheduled. It was ok, but forgettable, until Tom lost his balance getting out of the sleigh, and tumbled into the snow.

That sparked a snowball fight, started by Genzo’s wife, Mina, which turned out to be the highlight of the night. It was another late night, only this time everyone joined in. Soon it was Christmas Day, and everyone gathered for a huge feast, spontaneous holiday karaoke, with very bad, off key, wonderful noise, and gifts.

True to tradition, the parents insisted the kids go first. The four had pooled their resources to give Zack and Emiko got two tickets to Hawaii. The parents had guessed the plan, and planned accordingly.

Not to treat the daughter any differently, Sally and Tom got the European trip they had dreamed about. Aika and Hisashi got their two sons, and daughter-in-laws each a trip. One to Alaska, and the other to Australia.

The last few years had been good to the elder Hobbs and Ishikawa’s businesses. They were able to give their kids what they hadn’t been able to years before. Each had raised good children, and were now able to reward the wonderful adults they had become.

After the money they knew had been spent on this special trip, they didn’t really expect large gifts from the kids. An while they weren’t that expensive, they were very special.

Marty got a banjo from Zack. Though an old one, it was a fairly inexpensive, used one, with one special feature. Zack had found it online, then brought it with him to a local bookstore to get an autograph from a musician that he knew his Dad loved. The banjo player had just wrote a book, which was the reason for Zack’s purchase of the banjo.

He knew his Dad would love an autographed book, but he’d love the autographed banjo more. Zack made sure it was just vintage enough to earn the interest of the musician and author, and he was right. Zach even got a song played by the artist on the banjo, and a video for his Dad.

Marty had tears, not so much at the gift alone, but the love behind it. Anne expected something more commercial, knowing it was hard to capture lightning twice. So she prepared herself for the huge smile, regardless of what was in the box.

What she didn’t expect, was a pack of assorted notes wrapped in ribbon. Confused at first, she recognized the writing almost instantly. It was from her best friend of over thirty years. The next was from another friend she hadn’t seen in almost that long.

“I emailed, called, and text everyone I could get a hold of. You never were much for gadgets, so I thought this may be special to put a little old fashioned into your Christmas. The last few letters are from each of us.”

Anne’s face soon matched Marty’s, as hugs were exchanged to everyone. Emiko handed her Mom her gift first. It was large, and Aika couldn’t figure out what it was. When she opened it though, she was ecstatic.

It was a portrait of her Mother in the traditional Nihonga style. “It was from that old photo you love. I think the artist did a really good job, but it’s unsigned.”

Her Mother laughed through tears. “It doesn’t have to be signed. I recognize my daughter’s brushstrokes. Don’t you know I’ve been a fan of your art since preschool crayons?”

Emiko blushed. Not used to painting this way, she was saving this little tidbit of information until she saw whether or not her Mother liked it. Her Mom insisted she sign it right away. Aika knew her daughter, who like most artists, were never far from their tools.

Emiko handed Hisashi his gift. Like Anne, he was prepared for, not a lesser gift, but a less spectacular one let’s say. He too, was pleasantly surprised. Hisashi, a Jazz fan, opened the box to see an original record and cover of “Ella and Louis”. Plus one of those portable turn table that he could hook to his laptop.

Each of the other siblings had gifts just as special, and the parents treasured each one. A vintage pocket watch for Marty from Sally. Plus, a doctor’s bag from the turn of the century for Anne.

Each of Hisashi and Aika’s boys, and their wives, got their Dad special records, including one of Bing Crosby’s Christmas records. Aika was given a classic typewriter for her office, plus a limited edition fountain pen. After telling each child they spent too much, records were played, and gifts were enjoyed.

The treasure though wasn’t the crackles of vinyl, clackety typewriter keys, or banjo strings. The real art in the room wasn’t even the painting, or the letters. It was the children, each parent looked at their most precious contribution to their legacy. Which was the happy faces of the gifts that God had given them.

Because of a Child, Christmas became a reality. An while no other is quite like Him, I do believe He intended for Christmas to always be filled with children. May your home, and heart, be filled with both Christ and the children, those precious gifts, He gives this Christmas.

Merry Christmas from PruittWrites!

from Barley Candy And Chicken Bones