#I recognize she has little to do with her actual parents outside of a few vague concepts

[quibbs126]

Aight then, so this is the kid I alluded to in my last post for @arson-cookie, this is Marble Choco Cookie

Admittedly, her name didn’t originally come from a specific type of chocolate since well, there’s only so many kinds of chocolate out there. Her name mainly came from the fact that I was thinking of a way to combine dark chocolate and white chocolate (since I assume that’s the specific kind of chocolate Pink Choco is, given her similarities to White Choco), and o was thinking of marble cake, so I thought, “why not Marble Choco?”. Though I did look it up and it seems to be an actual thing, even if granted it just seems to be used by one brand as a flavor, so yeah it works

Marble chocolate:

I will admit however, that her design isn’t one I feel particularly proud of. Like yeah, it looks fine, but I feel like I just slapped something together. I had ideas, namely of her wielding a scythe and her having a love themed magical girl look, but when it came to actual execution I think I kind of just went with whatever. I think the main reasons for this were because firstly I made up her whole concept late last night, but by the time I wanted to draw her, it was close to midnight, and I try to not stay up much longer past that time, namely because I wake up early in the morning and I don’t want to be sleep deprived. So I had to wait until the next morning to draw her, when that fervor was mostly lost. I mean it was still there, but not as intense, and that may have affected things. The other reason is probably what I was doing while drawing her. See, I don’t like just drawing in silence, so usually I’ll have either music playing (usually when I’m out somewhere), or I’ll be watching videos in the background. With her, I was watching a YouTuber I like doing these multiple hour long reviews of books he reads, usually bad ones (the books, not the reviews). Thing is, there’s like, no ambience and the videos are really long, they’re just his extensive thoughts on the book as we go through them. They aren’t bad by any means, there’s a reason I watch them despite their length, but this also kind of puts me in a more dull mood, if that makes any sense. I’m just listening to a guy talking for 2 hours, and as such I’m not thinking too creatively. Does that make sense? Also the fact that I’m home for Easter weekend and as said before, I’m not as creative here

But anyways I do want to get into the process of me coming up with her as well. So basically we were driving home from my college, around an hour and a half drive, and I decided to spend that time coming up with ideas for fankids, since I hadn’t really done any this week, and I did come up with a few (that I’ll do later). I got to Marble Choco and was thinking of things for her, and I changed the music to Scanty and Kneesock’s theme from Panty and Stocking (I watched the show a very long time ago because I thought the animation was pretty. Didn’t understand the jokes at the time but I rediscovered the soundtrack a couple years ago and it’s honestly pretty good), and then my mind went “why do I want to base her off of Panty and Stocking?” I sort of filed that away but the idea stuck with me, which evolved into me making her a sort of magical girl, which I also feel is a not too ludicrous leap for these two characters. I gave her a scythe because I was trying to come up with ideas and I decided to look up Scanty and Kneesock’s weapons and saw Kneesock had dual scythes, so I decided to give her a singular scythe. Note that Marble Choco’s a lot more family friendly than this show, she doesn’t do the whole innuendos or anything, it’s just that they were the origins of her concept

But getting into my things with the design, I feel like I may have leaned too much into the Pink Choco and all the pinks, not too much Dark Choco

Anyways, so now let’s get into her herself. So like I said, she’s a magical girl that’s love themed, with the drawing here of her in that form. I imagine if she were in Ovenbreak, her skill would be like Hero or Kumiho in which she’d transform into this form and do things, not sure what though other than attacking things. Basically she’s supposed to have found a magical heart shaped gem (unrelated to Soul Jam) that gives her the power to transform into this state and then turns into her scythe. In normal form, it’s supposed to be a small hair clip like I showed in the sketch (which was basically supposed to be a rough draft for her civilian outfit. I had no actual ideas for what it looked like so I just have her a black jacket). The gem has no actual explanation for what it is, since I feel like that’s something that could happen in Cookie Run, like Snow Sugar’s wand and for all intents and purposes, the Strawberry Jam Sword. It’s just a thing she found that gives her magic powers

But basically her whole deal is that she’s a magical girl that fights against people without love in their hearts. I had this idea to call her the Love Reaper, you know because of the scythe. How her scythe is supposed to work is that the less love someone has in their heart for others, the more powerful the scythe is against them. If you have a lot of it, it will barely affect you, but if you have no love then it’s practically deadly. To reflect this I was considering making the blade holographic, but I decided against it. It’s sort of like what I think KARMA in Undertale is supposed to be like, where it’s more effective the worse you are, at least in theory.

Now that love doesn’t have to just be romantic, it could be platonic or familial or just a general love for others, or most likely a combination of all those. It doesn’t include self love though, since I imagine that’d skew things quite a bit. For example, Dark Choco seems like at his core, he genuinely cares about other cookies, but his self love is probably in the negatives, and that’s not really an accurate reflection of what the point is. Also it seems kinda wrong to punish someone because they don’t love themselves. That’s why I specified “love for others”. Though I haven’t quite figured out where obsessive love falls into this, as it is love, but it’s at an unhealthy level. I dunno. But against things like just animals/creatures, things without a real concept of love, it’s probably as effective as a normal scythe

As for her herself, well first off I imagine she’s pretty tall, getting that from her father’s side. Not really relevant to her personality but I thought I should mention. I imagine her to be a relatively serious person, but not particularly stoic, she’s generally pretty easygoing once you get to know her. I imagine her and the other 4 from this request are all friends, and she’s the cool dependable one they all go to. Also the one they go to if they need someone beat up since she’s the physical powerhouse

Honestly I’m debating making her a completely original Cookie Run character, since I went pretty in depth with the whole concept of her powers and they don’t need to be tied to being a fankid, she could probably stand on her own as a character with very minimal changes

But yeah, I think that’s everything about her, I hope you like her!

[jellyfiishatr]

Being friends with them!!

a/n : just some friendly hang out sessions with the great spider four >_<★!!

☆☆☆

Characters : Miles Morales / Gwen Stacy / Pavitr Prabhakar / Hobie Brown

content : headcanon / fluff / platonic / pure silliness

☆☆☆

Miles Morales!! (Small Ganke mention!!)

☆ study sessions with these two ofcourse

☆ ^and by study sessions I mean Miles is doing work and Ganke's been done and has been playing videos games since you came over to their dorm

☆ Miles asks for help with English, and you ask for help with whatever you're missing

☆ if not study sesh, then definitely out and about spray painting a new wall

☆ ^I can imagine late night talks with him after he's finished a piece are very heart to heart, he loves to speak his mind to you and hopes you do aswell

☆ I can imagine you meeting his parents are a little nerve wracking since he's mentioned that they didn't like ganke or Gwen

☆ so you tried to be as respectful and kind to them as you possibly could (probably also kissing up to them idk I would too)

☆ if you also do art, you guys compare drawings and give eachother advice on what you need to work on

☆ ^definitely the type to steal your notes and draw in them during class

☆ ^will also steal said notes for a week and forger he has them till your banging on his door in the middle of the night before your assignments due and those notes are very much important to you

Gwen stacy!!

☆ it took a long time for her to actually consider you a friend, a lot of the time you just stayed following her and talking

☆ ^anything you said in those few months prior to her considering you a friend, went through one ear and out the other

☆ She's definitely a teaser, making fun of you in a friendly manner

☆ movie night, or weekly sleepovers at one another's house is a must with her

☆ ^she says she's into horror/action but is really into romcoms, she won't admit that outloud though

☆ I feel like she's really bad at cooking so teaching her how better her cooking skills has definitely happened once or twice

☆ ^she loves when you make her lunches, she usually buys you lunch for the next two days in return

☆ when she's playing the drums you usually sit right outside her window with headphones because she's likes to have her room shut off

☆ ^but she still wants to hang out so she makes you wait outside for about an hour till she's done and has you back inside for dinner

Pavitr Prabhakar!!

☆ Study sessions pt2!

☆ he's a straight A, top of the class student. He doesn't really need to do homework because he does it in class

☆ he does help you with yours though, especially if you're failing

☆ early morning walks, he's an early bird and makes you walk with him because "It's good for the mind!"

☆ if you're not an earlybird, you're grumbling the entire walk about how it's a "weekend" and how "you do this everyday pavitr" and how "you need to stop making me do this"

☆ he doesn't understand whatever you're trying to say and pushes you lightly the rest of the walk (that last part definitelywasnt written by pavitr, no definitely not)

☆ he loves to rant about his girlfriend, talking about how they sneaked out and went on a late night walk that week

☆ if you have an s/o you're definitely talking about them with pavitr, telling him all about them

☆ he's definitely a dog person, he always has a dog following him no matter what

☆ you guys are walking to school? There's a dog right behind you. Hanging out at his house? There's a dog right outside his bedroom window. LITERALLY IN SCHOOL?? A DOG HAS WALKED IN DURING THE MIDDLE OF CLASS AND SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIM WHILE THE TEACHER WAS AWAY

☆ ^everyone think he just has some sort of dog treats on him always but it's really from just recognizing his face from him always feeding them, such a sweetheart

Hobie Brown!!

☆ draws on your hand a lot

☆ ^you always have faded sharpie on you no matter what because of him

☆ you tease him for his accent constantly, saying "pip pip cheerio," or "ello luv." In the most horrible accent ever

☆ You have to go to protests or big government events with him, whether you're political or not he's dragging you along

☆ Always has little trinkets for you everytime you hang out

☆ hang outs in an abandoned building are a daily thing

☆ ^he's probably made you carry a big couch for him to put in a new hang out spot because he said he "knew a place."

☆ he did infact know a place

☆ the playlist guy, he's the one with fire songs to hype everyone up at rallies/protests

☆ knows how to design, outfits, or banners whatever. He knows how to do it right

☆ you'll always have heart to heart conversations with him, early in the morning, mid-day, or late at night

☆ if you ever bring up the topic, "you think we're friends in another universe?" He just looks at you and nods (I've mentioned this before in my hobie hcs)

☆☆☆

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for entertaining a friendship with a child?

okay so this might be a weird one or even a controversial one i honestly have zero clue how other people will receive this, apologies in advance if i ramble!

to begin, i (23ftm) and this kid (15f) first met about a year ago. one of my best friends (23m) is a pretty big model and tiktoker and she was a fan of his, and she was pretty recognized online for making cool edits and stuff of him and coming to meetups etcetera, so he knew of her from there, and over time with always seeing each other at meet ups and her being in his discord server (where i mod) she kind of became pretty well known to us.

an important thing to note is that she's SUPER neurodivergent and she's had a really tough life. she lost her older brother a few years back and she's (i'm not sure of the correct way to put it, her family is originally from the netherlands and their english is kind of in the works so this is how they put it) developmentally behind a few years - her parents describe this as her being "mentally more 13 than 15" but her behaviour to me is even younger than that. she's very very innocent and trusting, very overemotional and sensitive to criticism etc, loves stuffed animals and pink and cartoons and all of that. she's told me she feels like a little kid sometimes and will talk/act like one so maybe there's an element of trauma-rooted age regression there, i'm not super sure - i'm not gonna get into detail but she's talked to me about her life a lot and she's had some pretty fucked up shit happen to her.

from the beginning she pretty much imprinted on me - she's told me before i remind her of the big brother she lost, and ever since then she's called me her "big brother" and "family" etc. at first i was more just playing along with it to make her happy but over time she really has become something like a little sister to me, i feel super protective of her. i want to become a teacher after college (not to mention eventually a parent with my fiancee) so i think at least part of it is that taking a kid 'under my wing' so to speak is giving me experience with it all. i've always been kinda paternal/protective over kids in general but i was the youngest sibling in my family so i never really had anyone to utilise that on before

she does rely super heavily on me emotionally, especially because after i found out she was being bullied pretty badly at school i started dropping by to keep her company during breaks/lunch and making sure shit was okay (which her still-living brother used to do, but he's a famous?? - unsure How famous, i don't know sports at all - footballer/soccer player who's often in another country and can't see her often anymore), and i've been working with her to curb that. i'm actually currently working with her parents to find her a good therapist and support system. she's no longer in the tiktok friend's discord just because it was getting a little all-consuming for her and we encouraged her to take a break, but she's done a TON of work on herself and maturing since then and she does plan to rejoin at some point soon.

however, i find it really really hard to gauge whether being so close with a child is... like normal? or not. i honestly can't tell if it's kind of the internet caution about adults talking to minors kind of warping my brain and making me overly wary of what people will think or if i'm doing something wrong or if it's genuinely like a weird situation, so i guess i'm looking for outside perspectives.

the things that make me question it is that like i said she's very 'mentally young', she's very sheltered, and there definitely seems to be an element of her kind of replacing the older brother figure she lost with me. on top of that, we met through her being a fan of my friend, and though she's now separate from that i worry there could still be an element of power there because i'm close with the guy she calls her idol. her family knows me and seem totally chill with everything, but they've told me she tells people at her school that i'm literally her brother and basically 100% talks about me as if i'm her biological family, which i find super sweet but at the same time wonder if it's healthy.

she obviously needs therapy and hopefully soon we can get her it, but: AITA for entertaining a sort of found family dynamic / friendship at all with someone very vulnerable and young or is this genuinely helpful for her?

What are these acronyms?

[harlowhockeystick]

wordless apology being accepted

pretty pls need this with sidney, can be coach!sidney or not, whatever you wanna do 💞

february prompts | coach!sidney x fem!reader

remember how y'all said you wanted the angst....yeah...

"hey, ryan's doing great in practice. he is the best kid a coach could ask for, really," sidney gave his players parents praise in the stands. it was thirty minutes until puck drop. occasionally before games sidney would go up in the bleachers and talk to parents while he could. he wanted to keep the relationship with his player's parent's strong, knowing that he was for their kids just as much as they were.

he sat next to y/n right before going back down to the bench on the ice. his hand subtly rested on her thigh as he listened to you talk about all you did that day, the parent meetings after class. he wished that he had time to actually talk to her, had time to sit with y/n and hear her go into more detail. but mid season he has to find a little bit of time to sit with her where he can.

"carter's getting better every day. i talked to the coach from arizona state today, he called wanting to know about him." sidney said, taking some of the popcorn she held in her hand. whipping her head to make eye contact she felt a few butterflies fluttering about in her stomach, college coaches already?

"but he's a freshman? are they even allowed to reach out when they're freshmen?" those were the questions that y/n was able to put words to, but in her head she had a thousand and one roaming about.

"all i told him was that he's everything a good program needs, he'll only get better with time, but to give me a call in a couple more years. coaches can go look and scout players as young as they want, but typically they don't get offered until they're a junior," sidney explained, "but if they're good...which carter is, then yeah. they can call, i got calls when i was in the eighth grade."

y/n felt intimidated, she isn't ready for conversations with college coaches and she knows carter isn't either. y/n just wants carter to enjoy the innocence of it all before dollar signs get thrown in his face.

"ten minute mark, i better get down there. want me to meet you guys at the restaurant?" she nodded her head and gave him a kiss on the cheek for good luck. by now parents had put two and two together of y/n and sindey's relationship. she had been approached and so has sidney, but for the most part it's been supportive. a few rumors here and there, but how can they complain when their son has the best coach in the country?

sidney starts to walk down the steps and takes a second to get somewhat of an outside perspective on warmups. hands in his pants pocket watching the opposing team but his thoughts were interrupted when a man approached him.

"i have a, uh, question," the man seemed nervous. he was stuttering over his words, not in a drunk way but he was extremely anxious over something. "can you maybe tell me," he took a breath before moving on, "which one my son is?"

sidney was taken back- no, he was floored. is this a joke? is this man serious?

"are you joking with me man?" sidney asked, taking a half step back to face the mans body with his. but from the way sidney looked in his eyes, they were nearly glossed over with fear and intimidation. the man shook his head as he looked on the ice again.

"i've been out of his life, i haven't been a good man and i'll be the first to admit that but, please i gotta start somewhere. saw his picture in the paper and i recognized him from the letters and stuff my mom sends me- his name's carter."

sidney pulled his lip between his teeth. he felt his leg start to shake and his stomach coil from anger, his hands grew sweaty as he balled them up in fists. he looked this man, this small weak man in the eye, he leaned into his level, "your son is number eighty in black. now get the fuck out of my arena before i have you kicked out, you fuckin-"

before sidney could say what he wanted to he felt y/n's hands on his chest pushing him back, "go to the bench, i'll handle him."

sidney looked down at her then back at the man behind y/n. he was still raging with anger on the inside, but did as told and walked down to the bench. when he got down there he watched as she talked to him a little bit before walking him out of the arena.

"what the hell are you doing here, john?" y/n finally asked as they stood out in the cold. she had kept in vague contact with john, trying since they divorced when carter was five to get him to come by at least once. for a birthday, christmas, or even an easter. but he never did.

occasionally he would send a gift card or a card with some cash, but y/n wasn't fully convinced it was him. she had her suspicions that his mother did it. she was involved in her grandson's life; she repeatedly apologized for her son's actions and for his absence. she was just as disappointed as anyone else was.

"'cause i feel horrible, y/n." was all he could say. it was all he had been thinking the past year. "i...i started going to therapy, and i've been trying to get the courage over a year and i just...i wanna be involved. i wanna be there, i wanna get to know my son."

"well you should've thought about that before you walked out on me and your son with your secretary, john. you should have thought about that before you chose a woman who was barely twenty years old over your wife and your child, you had the chance but you lost it."

y/n had so much more to say. she had thought for a long time what she would say if she got the chance. she often rehearsed in her head all that she would say, all that she would yell and scream at john for. she thought about all of it.

"y/n just give me a chance!" john shouted, taking a step closer to y/n not caring about the people who were walking past.

"no. it's not my chance to give. if carter wants to meet up with you then i'll get with your mom, but i could care less. to me you're a fucking loser, john." she felt tears begin to fall down her cheeks as she looked the man she loathed in the eyes for the first time since she last saw him after the divorce was finalized ten years ago.

"leave, just leave. this isn't how carter would want to see you for the first time in ten years anyway," john ducked his head and walked toward the parking lot. y/n turned and went back into the arena to where she was sitting.

a few parents asked her if she was okay, those who knew her and carter's story giving her a hug and a pat on the back. she was appreciative of those around her who supported her and her son.

y/n could barely focus on the game that had already started when she sat back down, her perspective and head space too foggy to even comprehend the game unfolding before her. all she could do was think about the worst days of her life replaying over and over in her head. she was replaying the minute she found out about john's affair, when she packed up her and carter's things and went to her parents house for the time being. she was replaying the divorce meetings, the arguments, the tears.

she was replaying having to explain to her five year old son where his dad went and why he wasn't going to be at home anymore. y/n hadn't gone into full detail with sidney about all of this yet. their relationship was just a few months old and she wanted to protect carter as much as she could. y/n knows and trusts that sidney was and is a good man, but she wants carter to tell what he wants to, not tell for him.

but now she will probably have to.

-

she went ahead and sat in sidney's office, she walked down there a few minutes before the last period ended. she knew that carter had a couple of points on the board, but y/n couldn't remember how he got them. her mind was full of remembering the worst years of her life with her ex husband.

she sat in a chair next to his desk, silently staring at the mess of practice plans, rosters, and scheduling papers strung along his desk. he walked in and shut the door behind him with a thud, plopping his game folder down on his desk. he didn't sit down, he stood with his hands in his pockets looking down at her as she remained sitting.

"you okay?" he asked. she could tell that he was tense, she couldn't figure out why though. they had won the game, the boys played well, and he didn't have anything to worry about. why was he so tense?

y/n nodded her head in response.

"i'll uh, make sure that he doesn't come to another game again." sidney sat down in his chair, resting his chin on his hand. there was an awkward tension in the room. sidney didn't know much about her past marriage, she didn't reveal too much to him. but now he had more questions than ever, he wanted to ask but it was clear she wanted nothing but to keep everything bottled at the moment.

"he seemed like a dick, don't know why anyone would want to marry him." sidney muttered, moving a few things around his desk. but y/n heard him loud and clear.

"what did you just say?" she asked, speaking for the first time since he walked into his office. oh no. he registered what he said, he didn't think before he spoke. he just let his thoughts flow freely off his tongue, shoulda held that one in.

"i- i didn't mean it, y/n i-"

"no, you think i don't regret being married to a man like that? one who was a complete horror of a man? who cheated, who left his wife and child? do you think i'm not embarrassed?" y/n felt tears brim her eyes and she stood up in front of him.

"y/n you know that's not what i meant," he stood up with her and walked around the desk. he put his hands on her shoulders but she slapped them away walking toward the door. she quickly opened it and headed toward the stairs. he thought about running after her but he didn't want to cause a scene. walking back into his office and closing the door he took a spare hockey stick that sat in the corner of the small space and smashed it as hard as he could against the wall, solving his anger in just that moment.

he fucked up.

-

sidney saw a text from carter which had him gathering his keys and putting shoes on his feet.

hey mom hasn't stopped crying since we got home, you know something i don't?

sidney picked up a to-go order on the way to her house, he knew that she wouldn't have eaten anything since leaving the arena. when sidney walked into her house he saw carter sitting at the dinner table eating a bowl of soup watching youtube videos on his laptop. "everything okay?" sidney asked, dumb question.

"i don't know, when i got in the car she was crying. i asked what was wrong and she just shook her head, i thought you guys broke up or something. did you?" carter asked, pausing the video.

"no, we didn't. it's not my place to tell you what happened, but i'll go talk to her." sidney patted carter on the back and walked toward the back master bedroom. he softly knocked on the door, he tried turning the doorknob but she had it locked. "y/n?" he softly asked, knocking again.

he heard sniffles and light footsteps across the wooden door. she unlocked the door and opened it. his heart softened at the sight, her eyes were puffy and her lips were chapped, she wore soft clothes.

walking back to her bed she got in it, pulling the covers over her legs. sidney sat at the foot of her bed and handed the greasy paper sack to her, his form of an apology in that moment. she took the bag and looked inside, a little grin coming on her lips as she saw the bag was full of fries.

she ate the fries in silence, her brain is dull and her head is hurting from crying for two hours straight. sidney sat on the bed with his hand on her leg, just hoping she feels comforted by his presence. he thinks she is, since she didn't take the bag of fries and kick him out.

she sat up, setting the now empty bag on her bedside table, leaned forward to take his hand in hers. sidney scooted closer to her on the bed when she folded her legs. then she gave him a kiss on the cheek, accepting his apology that came in the form of fries.

"i'm sorry for what i said y/n," he whispered again, pressing his forehead against hers. "it slipped out, i shouldn't have said it, i didn't even mean it i-"

"shh, you're forgiven sidney." y/n placed both hands on either side of his face, keeping her forehead against his. she sniffled and sidney parted for a moment, pressing his lips against her soft skin, taking both of her hands in his.

"you don't have to tell me anything about your marriage right now, but i promise, you say the word and i will make sure that he never steps foot anywhere near you or carter again." he tucked some hair behind her ears and kissed the top of her hands.

y/n shook her head, "you don't have to do that." she scooted back toward the pillows that leaned against the headboard, sidney moved on the bed to sit next to her. he put his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head while she laced her fingers with his.

she told him everything that happened in her marriage; she told him about the way john would speak to her in such degrading ways, how john never really made efforts to go to carters special events, how he would make excuses and say things he's in preschool how special could it be? she explained how she found out about john's affair and the messy divorce. right after the divorce john left the state and she never heard from him until five years later. y/n explained how john's mom still keeps in contact with herself and carter, and that she sends john letters and cards with pictures of carter.

sidney felt himself boiling with anger inside, how could someone be that bad of a person? why would anyone want to do such a thing?

"this was the first time in...years that i had seen him in person and it just brought back, everything." tears began to flow through once more and sidney wrapped both arms around her and pulled her in as close as she could. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

[ghouljams]

I been binging your cowboy AU and is pure gold. And I was thinking about maybe for some reason Duck and Price finding themselves in the same country and the army using the first aid to help the team. Like Price's heart beating so fast (this is before the family reveal jsjs). Keeping it profesional n front of the collegues but once the curtain is closed you two just holding eachothers

This is something I think about all the time actually. When I first thought of Duck doing red cross/doctors without borders aid stuff I thought it would be funny if she ended up in Price’s camp helping soldiers and civilians. Nerve wracking for both of them, but especially Price who has to see his wife in an active combat zone.

I think they've both briefly talked about how it's good they don't work together because it means the likelihood of Goose losing both her parents is lower. They didn't really think they'd ever cross paths on the job.

You step off the helo into blinding sunlight and raise a hand to shield your eyes. The rest of your colleagues are busy unloading equipment and supplies as you scan the surrounding area. It’s grim. Disaster sites usually are. Burned buildings, rubble, scared civilians; you recognize the fatigues that you see, British boots on sandy ground. You sigh. Your fellow supervisor comes to stand by you, clipboard in hand.

“Should be a camp around here somewhere,” They grumble, you turn to check the progress of unloading supplies. Already a crowd is starting to form, one you wish you could do more to help. You hate seeing people suffer, it’s one of the reasons you became a doctor. 

“It’ll be outside of town,” You inform them.

“Forgot,” They flip through their paperwork, voice sarcastic, “You’re a military wife.”

There’s no love lost there, everyone has their own opinion on it. Your opinion is wishing your husband would stop putting himself in harm's way, but you could never ask him to stop doing what he- well you hesitate to say loves, what calls to him. 

“I’ll handle it,” You snatch the clipboard from your colleague, “you can focus on medical while I let the army know we’re here.”

“Better you than me.” They mutter. You don’t bother letting their pouting get to you. At least when you yell at petty officers they listen. You have plenty of practice.

-

You’re quickly pointed to the commanding officer’s tent when you do find the military encampment. Everyone recognizes the red cross on your arm band, the set of your shoulders, you can already smell the medical requests that’ll be hitting your desk. You follow the sergeant assigned to you and duck under the tent flap he holds up for you. You stop dead staring at your husband. Price is hunched over a map laden table, his head jerked up to check who was intruding. His mouth twitches, eyes barely moving from you.

“Red Cross is here,” The sergeant breaks the silence.

“I can see that,” Price pushes off the table, rolling his shoulders back to stand at his full height. You swallow, try to quiet the rapid heartbeat in your chest. You can’t both be here. “When did you get in?” Your husband asks, all professionalism.

“A little more than an hour ago,” You tell him, your mind still reeling, spinning out worst case scenarios, “I thought you might have a decent idea of where needs the most aid.”

“How much time do you have?” He says with a small smile, a joke that isn’t a joke.

“We’re just getting unloaded and set up now, I’d have more time if you could spare a few men,” You glance at the sergeant. Price nods, waves the man off.

“Sergeant Shaw and his team would be glad to help.”

Sergeant Shaw salutes and disappears, leaving you alone in the tent with your husband. You all but rush to the table, he barely moves.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss.

“Me?” He leans his hands on the table, “What are you doing here?”

“There was an earthquake,” You remind him, you’re sure he felt it. His face drops, eyes solemn as they hold yours.

“Wasn’t an earthquake,” He tells you quietly.

“What?” You breathe. You don’t want to think about what that implies. His eyes say it all, the clear and present threat that hangs over this region. The sword of Damocles that now hangs over both of your heads.

“How long are you here?” His expression hurts to look at. Everything in you aching to touch him. You can’t, not while you’re both working.

“Three months until the next shift arrives, I was going to volunteer to stay on.” You’re rethinking it now, but it isn’t as if you could run back to your team and force them to evacuate, not without tipping everyone off.

“You’re leaving at shift change,” Price tells you, without room for argument. You press your lips into a thin line, holding back your complaints. 

“If they need doctors-”

“They’ll find them somewhere else,” He cuts you off. You’ve both operated this long on the understanding that your work is unpredictable, it’s carried you through deployments for years. Now, staring down your husband in his element, in your element, you don’t know how you ever managed it.

“John,” He winces when you say his name, “What are you doing out here?” Your voice trembles a little, you lay your hand near his on the table. His fingers spread against the maps, lace between yours. Quiet, intimate, less than you want but more than you should be getting.

“You’ll sleep better not knowing,” His eyes stare down at the table, head hung in exhaustion. 

“How are you sleeping?” You ask quietly, as both his doctor and his wife. Price shakes his head with a sigh.

“I’m not.” Your being here won’t help that.

“Stop by for a check-up when you have a moment,” You murmur, reaching to cup his cheek with concern. He looks pale, his eyes dark, overworked. He hums, presses against your gentle hold, a man starved for comfort out here. 

Three months is a long time to be in longing distance with your husband. Somehow it’s easier when you’re on different continents. Seeing him and knowing you can’t touch him will be the death of you. He’s right though, you can’t stay here. You’ve lived every deployment wondering if Price will come home, you can’t sit around and wait for him when the danger is so closeby. You can’t help him either. You know the danger of just touching him with so many eyes looking for chinks in his armor.

“I’m saving my exhaustion for when we get home, when I can kiss you properly,” He tells you softly. You drop your hand before either of you can follow that line any further. 

-

Price has never known fear quite like seeing you around camp. His heart races, his mouth dries, he can’t focus on anything but how fragile you are. You’re not even- You’d hate to hear him thinking that, but it’s true. You’re a civilian in an active war zone, treating soldiers like it doesn’t kill him every time he catches a glimpse of you. His nerves are fried, overthinking every glance, every brushing touch, every word he speaks to you. Is it professional enough? Distant enough? Does anyone know? 

So many years on deployment, happy knowing you were safe and sound at home with the kid but missing you terribly. Now here you were, dangerously close to the action, anything but safe, and he still misses you. Three months, he has to cover you for three months. Has to make sure nothing gets through the defenses that have been set up. 

He’s always fought with your safety in mind, but now the danger is so much closer. If something happens to you, to either of you, it’s on him. If one of you can’t come home, God forbid if neither of you can go home…

You smile at the soldier you’re treating, sunshine in the middle of his camp. It doesn’t help that you’re the prettiest thing half these idiots have seen in months. The amount of red cheeks and overenthusiastic smiles you’ve inspired could almost be called a plague. Not that Price doesn’t get it, but if one of these fucks tries to lay a hand on you it’ll be a court martial for him and them.

That’s a quick way home, he supposes. Though not as painless as he’d like.

“Captain Price,” You jostle him from his glowering, your pen tapping against a medical chart.

“Doctor,” He greets, thankful you still use your maiden name in these situations.

“When I said everyone was getting a physical I meant everyone, commanding officers included, and yet I haven’t seen your name on the list.” You smile at him so sweetly. He nods shortly.

“Didn’t see the need for one,” He still doesn’t. He feels fine, and being alone in a room with you just makes him feel worse.

“Oh, you didn’t?” You tilt your head, “Did your medical officer already give you one?”

“No.”

“Got it, you’re a doctor and you did the exam yourself,” Sarcasm drips from your lips. He loves it when you get like this. One more word and he won’t care who sees him grab you.

“Are doctors allowed to do that?” He feels a smile tug at his lips.

“You know, now that I think about it, they’re not,” You scrunch your nose, brows drawn down as you pretend to think, “So then, how do you figure you don’t need one? Not a doctor, not signed off by a doctor…”

“You think you’re cute,” He likes the sparkle in your eyes, the mischief you only get into with him. 

“I think I’m married,” You tell him, pretending to be offended.

“Happily?” He asks, you nod, “Lucky man.”

“If you’re going to flirt the whole time I’ll find a different doctor to do your physical,” You warn him.

“I won’t say another word,” Price promises.

And he doesn’t, but he does kiss you as soon as you’re in the privacy of the medical tent. His fingers tight in your hair, tipping your head back so he can waste no time sliding his lips against yours. God he missed you. You smell like heat, like the sun on your skin, taste like filtered water and whatever rations the Red Cross is feeding you, but it’s you. Your soft entreating lips, just on the edge of chapped from the dry desert wind, that press so eagerly to his. You’re so still, both of you trying to get your fill of the other without losing what little ability you have to jump away from each other.

Which you do at the crunch of boots outside the tent. Price coughs, watching you smooth down your hair and check down your chart as another officer pulls the tent flap to the side. Price moves to speak to them quietly, giving short orders he makes sure you don’t hear. When he turns back to you, you’re all business. Ever the diligent doctor.

“Any aches, pains, etcetera?” You ask, he shakes his head. You look at him more critically. 

“I’m really alright, Momma,” He offers you a tight smile, you sigh and sign something on his form.

“You know it’ll be worse if you lie to me,” You inform him, setting your chart down and gesturing for him to strip for the exam.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

-

Three months pass like a rainy day. Terribly. Soldiers are some of the worst patients you swear. If they aren’t lying to you about one thing they’re whining about another. They disappear for weeks and reappear with injuries you don’t want to think about past treating. You’re supposed to be working disaster relief but it’s not like you or your superiors can say no to the army. You do your best not to look for your husband through all of this. The few small stolen moments together that you’ve gotten do nothing to abate the worry you hold when he’s gone. It’s worse being here, you always knew it would be. 

You shade your eyes from the dust the helo kicks up as it lands. Your relief shift finally arriving a day late. You suppose you can’t blame them for the delay, things have been rocky here to say the least. You bark orders and direct the rest of your team to help with getting people settled and supplies catalogued. This’ll take the better part of the day, just long enough for the helicopter to get refueled before it carts the rest of you to the airstrip. 

One of your juniors keeps track of the crates being unloaded while you ensure there are enough doctors to go around. You know Price told you they’d find ways to cover for you, but you can’t help feeling the pull to help. A weight drops off your chest when you count an extra two doctors than was initially planned. Someone must’ve mentioned how much you were covering the military and put in for extra medical staff.

Speaking of the military, and your husband more specifically, you’d hoped he would find a way to see you off. Maybe not in a personal capacity, but professionally. You’ve been the main point of contact for his team since you landed, he could at least spare you a good-bye.

You spot him by his swagger alone, the distinctly masculine movement of his hips, the way the crowd parts for him without so much as a word. He looks good in his tac gear. Supervising his men, you’re sure. You smile at him, glance around for somewhere private that you could get a proper good-bye. Not much privacy out here you’ve learned. Not that he seems to care, stopping in front of you with a grin.

“Not putting in for an extension I hope,” He raises a brow. You shake your head.

“No, I’m happy to be heading home. Don’t think I can stomach patching you boys up again,” You sigh, honest with your husband even when you shouldn’t be. You know it hurts him, his eyes softening for you. 

“We’ll miss you, you’re probably the best doctor that’s run through here.” You roll your eyes, flatterer.

“Maybe I should stay then,” you tease. His smile widens.

“Not a chance, go home, I’m sure your husband’s worried about you,” More honesty where there shouldn’t be any. You know he’s worried, and despite your desire to stay you’re willing to compromise this for him. Your heart clenches tight staring up at him. You desperately want to kiss your husband, want him to wrap his arms around you and promise he’ll come home safe. 

Price looks over your head into the open helo. “Looks like you could still use some help unloading,” He nods.

You glance into the cavernous darkness, you’re sure everything’s been unloaded. That’s not the point. You smile.

“Shouldn’t take more than the two of us.”

In the back corner of the helo, far out of the light, your husband presses against you and gives you a proper good-bye, kissing you through the tightness in your throat. You tighten your arms around his shoulders, eyes closed as he nearly lifts you to keep you pressed against his chest. The warmth of him is as solid as the metal at your back, sturdy as he’s ever been. You know the risk he’s taking by kissing you where someone could see, but you really can’t bring yourself to care. The thought of leaving him makes you hold on all the tighter.

“I love you,” He murmurs, pulling back to kiss your cheeks, your nose, over each eyelid, delicate pressure wherever he can. You can’t imagine what this must’ve been like for him. Having you so close to combat must have been torture. You know he has nightmares about it even without this fuel on the fire.

“I love you,” You agree, letting him catch your lips for another slow kiss. Indulgent and exploratory, just like coming home after months away. His tongue brushes against your lips, begging you for more that you can’t give him. This has to be enough, has to carry you through however long he’s away. When he finally lets you go you can hardly stop the sandy feeling pushing against your eyes.

“Be safe,” You tell him, trying your hardest not to cry like it's his first deployment, “for me, please be safe.” Price sighs, kisses you soft and chaste a final time.

“Give Goose my love,” He tells you. He can’t promise you safety, you should know better than to ask for it. He grabs whatever he can think of and walks down the back plank of the helo, back into the blinding sun. The best good-bye you could’ve hoped for is never enough to tie you over until he’s home again.

[lixxen]

It Takes Two AU Headcanon Masterpost

Based off of the song It Takes Two from Trolls Band Together :)

Full HC UTC

--

The portal accident happened when Danny was 5 and Jazz 7

Instead of Danny staying in the human world, it brought him into the Ghost Zone and the portal broke

Nobody knows what happened to Danny in the human world. They knew the portal turned on by itself and failed, but nothing else. They do not correlate the two events together. They spent a whole year searching for Danny before declaring him fully missing

Frost Bite found Danny and took him in, raising Danny and recognizing Danny is a Halfa with a ice core

Danny is raised amongst the ghosts and is fully knowledgeable in ghost mannerisms and culture. He does get human food through one or two ghosts who will bring it to him

He is still hunted by Skulker, but it is less of a danger since he is protected by Frost Bite. He actually has a relationship with most ghosts. Whether it's good or bad is up to you (I can list it out specifically if anyone cares or want specific dynamics)

He hates Christmas but loves Holiday Truce. Idk if that makes sense. Him and ghost writer still have beef.

Danny is the GZ's core and is destined to defeat Pariah Dark and become the Ghost King. Many ghosts know this and hope that if they keep the prophecy under wraps, it won't happen. It just says a Halfa of the ghost realm. It could be Vlad! (It cannot be Vlad)

Danny runs into Vlad naturally and they have no idea he is Danny Fenton. He knows his name is Danny but goes by Phantom. So Vlad just sees him as an annoying Halfa child that bothers him sometimes

The three activate the portal by accident later on, but it doesn't turn them into Halfas. Just opens the portal. They become a small team of ghost hunters

Jazz becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and create an older sister type of friendship. She keeps them out of trouble and mentors them

They aren't on horrible terms with the A Listers due to Jazz being more popular. It surprisingly causes them to be looked down upon, but not bullied. Light hazing behind Jazz's back if so

Jazz and Danny both always feel like something is missing; Jazz knowing she has a little brother out there and Danny not knowing his real family

The A Listers and the Ghost Trio (Sam, Danny, and Jazz) all go out into the ghost zone together one day

The A Listers get disconnected and the Ghost Trio have to go find Frost Bite, who they met once before. He allied themselves with them after realizing the connection to Danny

The Ghost Trio are met with Phantom protecting the territory and they realize that he looks a lot like Danny. Or, what they'd expect Danny to look like now

Danny is ready to fight them, but realizes that they're not trying to attack him. He backs off and they talk.

He mentions his name is Danny Phantom, and Jazz asks if he was once Danny Fenton. Danny is caught off guard and says that the name sounds familiar, but he doesn't know. He's been there since he was a kid. He transforms back into his human form to show them he isn't a full ghost

They realize that it is in fact Danny and they freak out. Jazz is crying and hugging Danny, who is shocked and hasn't had contact with a human in years.

He breaks down crying after a few minutes.

He asks her everything and she explains the whole situation and how their parents kept up their ghost stuff, desperate to find out if Danny was dead or not

Danny is amazed and he is just glad that he found his sister

Then he realizes that he can't let them go back home so he tries to convince them to stay with him and that they're safer in the Zone than outside of the Zone

They refuse and eventually convince him to go back with them. He doesn't agree at first and tells them this is their home. They explain that the human realm was his home first and that it's their home. They can't just leave it

Danny thinks it over and they spend ends up going with them to get back the A Listers

The A Listers are so confused by Danny being there but are glad they had help. They then find out about Danny and are shocked

Danny ends up going home with them and reunite with their parents. But they don't tell him he's half ghost. Just that he was stuck in the Zone for 8 years

They all cry. Yippee.

Danny befriends Sam and Tucker! The A Listers treat him like they do when they find out he's Phantom in the show

He goes towards school!! He gets to fight the ghosts when they start coming through, and they actually respect him for the most part. They all know what's up. But they still fight him. They're still being chaotic ghosts causing problems

He's doing that double life y'all.

A year later, Danny does end up fighting Pariah and becoming king. He rules from the human realm until he gets out of high school then goes to half ghost zone half human realm ruling. It's a hard life for Danny

[lilyrizzy]

just a little something based of a csi fic i read 100 years ago, but cannot for the life of me find online to give credit to. if anyone recognises, pls do let me know!

outsider pov

cw: crash aftermath, breif mention of parent (guess who lol) being homophobic and a general dick

Sophie had always hoped that lighting a candle in church and crossing herself at the race track would be enough to appease God. Maybe she had angered him, missing so many Sundays this year to spend instead with her son, at his church; the track. Maybe it is just that God gives his hardest challenges to his loyalist followers, something she has heard repeated over and over since she was a child, something she taught to her own children.

Either way, watching the stewards pull her son’s unconscious body from a race car, it’s enough to have her wondering if there was more she could have done.  

Sophie lets herself into Max’s apartment with an easy twist of his key in the lock. Easier than she remembers, but then she’s struggling to recall when she was last here. The most recent times she’s seen Max, it’s been in the Netherlands or at different race tracks around the world. He says he likes to come home to see her, and it’s always warmed her heart too thoroughly, the idea that her house is home to him despite him never growing up there, for her to question that.

Now, she wonders if there wasn’t more of an ulterior motive.

Flicking on the hallway light, immediately she can tell it’s different. Splashes of colour she doesn’t remember seeing on the whitewashed walls. An antique-looking clock, letting her know it is 3 am. Artwork she’s never seen before hanging next to it, photos too, photos actually in frames. Years ago, there had been just one, her, Max and Victoria. Both of her children actual children in the picture, standing in front of some race track or other, and it had been frameless, stuck to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a Red Bull can.

Now that one picture has multiplied, to make an entire collage frame, five photos in total sat inside it, the word ‘family’ written underneath.

Putting the keys in the glass bowl beside the front door- another new addition- she steps closer. The urgent, anxious need to be back at the hospital has dimmed, and she realises she feels closer to Max here than in a white, soulless waiting room, carefully avoiding both eye contact and conversation with his father.

The first photo she notices has a girl, no a woman, smiling at the camera with two small children by her feet. A boy and a girl, her hand on each of their blonde heads. The woman has dark hair though, a wonderful smile and kind eyes. Older than Max, probably by ten years. Sophie has never seen her before, can’t recall ever being introduced to her, and she wonders if this is the reason she has been kept away from this apartment, a secret girlfriend.

But Sophie can’t see any other photos of her, just a picture of Max’s own family, her, Victoria, Luka, Lio. A few photos of podiums at Red Bull, from when Max was just eighteen, then again at twenty, if she can guess right. A photograph of a sunset, the two blonde heads of the children just at the bottom of the frame, so maybe-

There’s a noise, the sound of footsteps that have her reaching for the can of hairspray she carries in her purse just in case, and-

“Fucking hell,” a man says, hand flying to clutch his chest, “Sophie, you scared the shit out of me.”

It’s a voice, a face that she recognizes.

“Daniel?” Her face is hot, embarrassed at her own overreaction, as her hand drops from the zip of her bag. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer, eyes widening a little as though there is still something to be afraid of. Quickly, her eyes track over the rest of him, the sweatpants and Red Bull Racing t-shirt he is wearing, both looking a few sizes too big. She wonders how much weight he has lost since being with the team, for the clothes to hang off him the way they do.

“Is Max okay?” He asks, and his voice sounds- Hurt almost. Definitely worried.

“He is still in surgery,” she says, hoping her tone is reassuring. He seems to need it. “I took his keys too- Well the nurse said maybe he would like some things, for when he wakes up. To help him feel more at home.”

A part of her, embarrassed, had wanted to ask the nurse, ‘like what?’ It had occurred to her then that she has no idea what her 25-year-old son would want, what he would need to make him feel better. She hasn’t been somebody who has comforted him when he is hurt, or sick, or even just upset, for a long time. With her, he is always happy, and though she has always cherished his smile, his laugh, she wonders just how true it is that he always feels that way.

Daniel nods, running a hand through his curls but doesn’t say any more about Max. Instead, he turns, walking into the kitchen, gesturing for Sophie to follow him.

“Would you like a coffee or something? It’s pretty late, but-“ he shrugs then, tapping his fingers against a fancy, expensive-looking machine that again, Sophie has never seen before.

“Yes, that would- Daniel what are you doing here?” She feels rude, interrupting his politeness with a question he dodged the first time, but she’s beginning to worry she’s let herself into the wrong apartment, or something equally ridiculous. Vaguely she remembers Max telling her, when he was newly moved to Monaco, that the building was nice and he knew so because Daniel lived there.

Daniel Ricciardo, his teammate and then ex-teammate, who Sophie heard endless stories about for the first few years of her son’s time with Red Bull, and then suddenly, nothing at all. The next she’d heard about him was when he left the team, Max saying dutifully that he was happy for him, but not much else.

They’d stayed friends, she knows, or whatever variation of friends rivals, competitors, can truly be.

“I live here,” is what Daniel tells her now though, turning his back to her to fiddle with the machine, “do you take milk and sugar?”

Sophie doesn’t know if she manages to hide the shock that must have found its way onto her face in his admission, by the time he turns to face her again with a tired smile, teaspoon in hand. She does manage to shake her head though, to take the cup from his outstretched hand and take a sip of bitter, black coffee without it burning her tongue.

“I’m sorry,” she says, once he’s finished fixing his own cup, “I did not know that you had been staying with him.”

She waits for an explanation.

Keeping up with the grid gossip has never been her strong suit, but she's heard the rumours like everybody else that this might be Daniel’s last season. She expects to hear something that makes sense, like maybe Daniel has already sold his Monaco apartment, and Max is helping him out. That he’s broke, that he’s in between apartments, that he’s an alcoholic that needs someone to hold him accountable, anything.

Not for Daniel to shrug, giving her the same wary smile, and say, “why would you?”

She nods like that makes sense, like any of it makes sense. Like she isn’t getting irritated by his attitude, by this feeling that there is something he knows that she doesn’t.

Her baby boy is hurt, she doesn’t want this. She doesn’t need this, to feel confused in his home, when she could be by his bedside, stroking his hair. Hopefully asking him herself, why Daniel Ricciardo is living with him. If he’s awake, if he can even-

“Where is his bedroom?” She asks, setting the cup on the counter. “I cannot be too long.”

He mirrors her, putting his own mug down. “I can get some things for him, no problem,” he offers, but she shakes her head.

“You should get back to sleep,” she tells him with a polite smile, “it is very late.”

He purses his lips and looks at her as though considering something. Clearly, there is an internal conflict that again, Sophie is not privy to, but it’s over as quickly as it comes, with Daniel shrugging and saying, “okay. Let’s sort him out some stuff.”

She’s about to insist again that it’s fine, she doesn’t need his help, but he’s making his way down the hall to another room, presumably Max’s bedroom, before she has the chance.

Inside, again, it’s nothing like she remembers, and she has a moment to stand in the doorway, watching Daniel open and close drawers, to take it in.

The walls are painted a soft green, where before she is almost certain they were white. The furniture is a dark wood, instead of the white Ikea flat packs she helped him to pick out when he first moved here. Even the bed is different, bigger, the bed sheets patterned, but not distastefully so, complimenting the features of the room.

An adult’s bedroom.

It isn’t the décor isn’t the thing that gives her the biggest pause though.  

It’s the way the bedsheets are crumpled, as though somebody- Daniel- only just got out of them.

It’s the way there are two phone chargers plugged into the wall on either side of the bed. Two bedside tables littered with items. One with a couple of water glasses, a racing magazine, a watch Sophie recognises as one she brought for Max’s 21st birthday. The other is tidier, just a book and a photo frame resting on top.

The picture is the final thing that makes her understand. Daniel with his arm wrapped around Max’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek,

She looks from the photograph, then to Daniel, who is watching her carefully, something on his face quietly pleading for understanding.

“You should pick him some comfy clothes,” she suggests, swallowing down all the questions suddenly at the tip of her tongue, “for when he is discharged.”

That earns her a soft smile and a nod, and he starts rummaging through the wardrobe behind him, pulling out a jumper, a pair of worn tracksuit bottoms, a couple of plain white t-shirts. He walks to another set of drawers to get some boxer shorts and socks, moving around with comfortable familiarity, before dipping into the adjoining room, the bathroom Sophie gathers when he comes back holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“He doesn’t- The normal kind is always too minty for him,” Daniel explains, holding up the tube that Sophie recognises as a children’s brand, strawberry flavoured, before putting it on top of the small pile of belongings he’s made on the bed.

“Maybe a book?” Sophie suggests, wanting to feel helpful, but Daniel just snorts, not looking back from where he’s back in the wardrobe, reaching on his tiptoes for something off the top shelf.

“Good luck getting Maxy to read,” he says, “but maybe his headphones so he can watch a movie?”

“Sure,” she allows, “where are they?”

“Bedside drawer, but don’t- ah,”

She’s opened, seen, and slammed the drawer shut again in the time it takes for him to say it. Different, bright colours of silicone, and- When she looks back up at him, his face is pink the way hers feels, and his hand is cupping the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he’s saying, struggling to meet her eye, “I tried to warn you.”

She pastes on the brightest smile she can muster. “It’s okay,” she laughs, but it’s forced, “I should know better than to go poking in my son’s bedroom drawers, maybe- Maybe you can find me a bag, instead, and I will just pack the things to take.”

Daniel nods, “right, yeah, let me just-“ and before long they have a system. Daniel places items, more clothes, a magazine, a phone charger, onto the bed, and Sophie packs them.

“Maybe this too,” he says after a while, holding up a tattered rag he’s retrieved from the bottom of Max’s wardrobe- their wardrobe- that it takes Sophie a moment to recognise.

“Oh,” she says, and the smile that spreads across her face this time is effortless. “I cannot believe he still has kept this.”

It’s her dress, the dress, the one she wore when she had him and gave him when he was a toddler, because Jos said he was not allowed cuddly toys or else he would turn out- Well, turn out exactly the way he has anyway, if the apartment he shares with another man is any indication.

“I used to wrap him up in this when he was a baby,” she explains, taking the dress from Daniel, rubbing the distantly familiar fabric between her fingers. “It was all he was allowed, as a boy, to cuddle. Jos tried to tell me no, but-“

But it was something she had stood her ground and paid the price over.

Daniel nods, “I know,” is all he says, “he loves it very much.”

The words lodge themselves thick in Sophie’s throat, as though she is the one to have spoken them. She remembers what it was like, to hold her new baby, her first baby, in her arms and to know that she would do whatever it took to make sure they were happy.

Even if that meant leaving them behind. It is just that standing in this apartment, in the middle of the life her son felt the need to keep secret from her, she is questioning what the right thing to do was more and more.

At the time, she had felt selfless, but now she just feels naïve.

They gather and pack the rest of Max’s things in silence. It is not until they are done, Sophie standing once more in the kitchen, this time a small duffel between her feet and Daniel’s that she speaks again.

“So how long have you- How long?”

If Daniel is surprised by the question, to his credit, he doesn’t show it.

“Six years,” is all he says, then tilting his head to the side as if to prove he is thinking, “seven in a few months.”

Sophie nods, as though the length of time is not a slap across the face. For seven year her son has loved somebody, and she has never known. Max would have been eighteen, barely. Daniel, what, 26? 27?

It should worry her, she knows, but she finds that strangely it doesn’t. Max is not a liar, it is not in his nature, so for him to have felt the need to hide this from her, it must have been something precious in his eyes. Something worth protecting.

“And I suppose you moved in here, let me think, four years ago?” She asks, and this time he does look shocked, and she relishes the only opportunity she’d had to make him feel this way, when he has caused that same emotion within her countless times since she came through their front door.

“That is around the time he stopped inviting me to stay with him here,” she offers as an explanation when he doesn’t say anything.

His face smoothes over into understanding.

“Ah,” he says, nodding with his lips pursed again, “I thought- Well, my mum, she said she always kinda knew that-“

“That you were with Max?” Sophie interrupts, because this is not something she has considered. Was she supposed to have seen this coming, all the times Max mentioned Daniel, unprompted, during the first season of his career?

“No,” Daniel says though, shaking his head, “I mean about me. My mum always thought I was, well, different was the word she used, but what she meant was ‘a little gay.’” He grins then, as though he expects that to make Sophie laugh, but it doesn’t. “I’m bi though,” he adds in a bit of a rush, as though that matters to her.

Bi. Gay. Which one is Max, she wants to ask, but is afraid she’ll fail some kind of test doing so.

“So your mother does not know? About you and Max?” She questions instead.

“No, she knows,” Daniel admits with a shrug, “my dad too.”

Jealousy spikes within her, and she feels her jaw tighten as she has to look away, to the sea just the other side of the balconies sliding glass door that would be visible if it wasn’t so dark.

“Who else knows?” she eventually demands, voice clipped to her shame.  

“Well, my sister,” Daniel begins, and with that, he gestures to the new photograph stuck to the fridge, the RedBull magnet replaced with one in the shape of a race track. The Yas Marina circuit, if Sophie had to guess.

It’s another photo of the same woman Sophie had thought might be Max’s girlfriend not twenty minutes ago.

“A couple of my best friends, who I trust,” Daniel is continuing, “one of Max’s, you know Martin, right? That’s it though.”

“So Victoria, she does not know?”

Daniel’s eyebrows knit together, and Sophie wonders if he is considering how much he can stretch the truth without it being an out-and-out lie. It stings, to consider that Victoria might know what Sophie did not. She has always, and maybe foolishly so, considered her and her children a trio, one that didn’t keep secrets from each other.

“No,” he says eventually, “I think Max always thought she wouldn’t be able to keep things from you. You two are close.”

They are. Sophie had just thought all three of them were.

“And Max wanted to keep it a secret?” She asks, because that is what she cannot wrap her head around. Her sweet boy, so eager to put his head in her lap to be close to her, hiding, being deceitful.

Eyes glancing towards the door behind her, as though wishing he could use it, could leave this conversation altogether, Daniel sighs. “I think Max is afraid. Of what you would think.” Then, frowning, head tilted to the side as he reconsiders, “of what Jos would think.”

The unhappy look on Daniel’s face at just the mention of her ex-husband’s name has Sophie thinking he knows, just like she does, exactly what Jos would think.

“Max should know better than to assume I would share anything with his father, much less an opinion on this.” She tells him firmly, harsh and unfair considering Daniel has done nothing but try to answer her questions and help her pick things to take to Max in the hospital.

“I think- Look this is something you should talk to Max about, yeah?” He allows, an apologetic smile on his face. “But if- Look if you really don’t care, tell him that. Go to him first. He’ll open up if you push him, trust me.”

She nods, as though this isn’t strange. As though it isn’t her who should be giving him advice on how to handle her son, and not the other way around. She is his mother, and yet, this man she hardly knows, knows Max so much better.

“Thank you,” she says, grateful anyway.

Daniel just hums in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on where he is picking at one thumbnail using the other. There are a few beats of silence, and then he is speaking again.

“Is Jos still at the hospital?”

It’s then that Sophie considers how terrible this must be for him. To be stuck here, in the home he shares with her son, when he should be there, by his side.

“Yes,” she tells him, and now it’s her turn for the apologetic smile, “but not for much longer. We- Obviously we are not supposed to be in the same room together, and I know he was planning to fly home soon.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at her. Keeps picking at his thumbnail.

“Would you like to come?” She asks.

He snorts then. “Of course I do, but-“ He shrugs, doesn’t need to say what is the unspoken truth they both know.

It is important that Jos does not know.

It is important to Max that it stays that way.

[sage-nebula]

Blueberry Elite Four Thoughts

Lacey:

She's trans! She came out as a transgirl when she was around 10 or so, and was very nervous about telling Clay. But when she did tell him, he just laughed and said, "Shoot, that all? I was worried you were gonna say you wanted to be a stay-at-home spouse."

She dyes her hair pink, since it's the cutest color.

Her mom died when she was young, so Clay has raised her as a single parent. She has spent a lot of time alone as a result since Clay commutes to Driftveil for work each day, leading to her responsible personality.

Clay finds it hard to connect with her since they have few common interests, but he tries very hard. Lacey recognizes and appreciates his efforts. One of these efforts was introducing Lacey to Elesa, who is an old friend of Clay's and an idol of Lacey's. Lacey was speechless and had a crying meltdown and Clay could not understand what he did "wrong."

Once one of Clay's worker's expressed sympathy to him for having a [slur redacted] son. The worker was never seen again. Clay said he merely fired him. One employee who asked to remain anonymous is quoted as saying, "Yeah, down into the mines."

Lacey likes fairy-types for being cute, but also many pokémon that aren't thought of as traditionally cute. Her excadrill is the cutest of them all.

She absolutely has a southern twang to her voice, just like her daddy's.

She's a loyal subscriber to the Iono Zone, and has a crush on Iono to boot.

Amarys:

Amarys is autistic, and this has manifested in the way that social cues have been hard for her to understand growing up, and she's been bullied and ostracized for it, and she's tried very hard to study people and social cues and social rules so that she can play by those rules better and therefore be better accepted, but she also has difficulties emoting and so even when she does her best it rarely seems good enough and—well. Her bullies often compared her to a robot or a computer. Amarys often felt that she liked robots or computers better than humans, because they were easier to understand and deal with. And that sparked her interest in steel-type pokémon, whom she felt a sort of kinship with. But more importantly, just because she has trouble emoting doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings. She feels SO MUCH and SO STRONGLY and it's been so hard. She still tries her best to follow the rules in the hopes that doing so will yield the best result, but it's still so hard.

Carmine was the first person who ever stood up for Amarys. Other students were once again mocking Amarys for being a robot, and Carmine yelled at and threatened them until they ran away. Carmine explained that people liked to bully her little brother, too, but she couldn't stand people like that. And anyway, she was from Kitakami, so if Amarys was seen as a weirdo outsider at Blueberry Academy, maybe they could be weirdo outsiders together. Carmine was A Lot all at once, but Amarys liked the sound of all that.

Amarys likes spicy, sour, and bitter foods; she's not a fan of sweets.

She loves heights, but she is claustrophobic (albeit only mildly).

She has romantic feelings for Carmine, but thinks they could never be reciprocated and so she won't say anything about them. Carmine, meanwhile, thinks they are already dating.

She is actually not the best with technology, but she is a skilled artist, particularly when it comes to small models, like ships in bottles. Precision work is a natural talent of hers.

Crispin:

100% would fall for the "if you bake it at 400°F for 20 minutes, then if you crank it up to 4000° you can cook it in 2 minutes" rumor or whatever it was and would burn the whole academy down in the process.

If Lacey told him she was trans, his first response would be, "I thought you were Unovan?" His second response would be, "okay but you're still cute though!"

He has, on more than one occasion, melted plasticware in the oven. Despite this, he IS still a good cook.

He has many older siblings and is the baby of his family. Somewhere in his family tree are the Striaton triplets.

He has used his trusty frying pan as a drying pan.

He gets Big Mad when judges on cooking shows care more about style over taste and mouth feel. They are missing the whole point of food, he says.

Drayton:

Drayton has a complicated relationship with Iris. On one hand, she's great! She's a cool person! She's always fun to talk to and hang out with! On the other hand she's the literal fucking Champion of Unova and the shadow Drayton's been living in his whole fucking life, the ideal grandchild Drayden always wanted years before Drayton was ever born, the standard Drayton could never hope to live up to! And like, none of it's her fault, and he knows this and would never say as much to her, but the question of "why can't you be more like Iris" feels like it's always there and makes him not want to try at all, because he'll just fail anyway, right?

To that end, Drayton has failed his classes on purpose, because he doesn't know yet what he wants to do with his life. It is expected he will take over Opelucid Gym, but he doesn't want to. And that's fine, IF he has some other idea of what he wants to do. But he doesn't, so he's stalling. Not his best idea, but it's all he has.

Speaking of, in Unova, as Clay puts it, "When the people have a problem, it's up t' the Gym Leader t' put it right." The League Club had a problem with Kieran bullying the other members by abusing his power as Champion. Drayton, raised in a family of Gym Leaders, took it upon himself to fix the problem for the people. It's why he was proactive about it; it's what he was raised to do. (Lacey's dad is also a Gym Leader, and the one who said the original quote, but she's less inclined to rock the boat than Drayton is, especially since Drayton felt responsible by losing to Kieran in the first place.)

His accent is what we would think of as Brooklyn in the real world.

Drayton likes verbal sparring. It's like a sport to him. He likes riling up Carmine because she "hits" back. He sees it as playing and genuinely thinks she sees it as the same. She does not.

He also thinks Carmine and Amarys are dating.

Kieran has a negative opinion of Drayton because, when Kieran first joined the League Club, Kieran asked Drayton to make him strong. Drayton said, "I can't make you strong; you gotta do that yourself." Now, what Drayton MEANT was, Kieran has to find inner strength / determination to try and work hard on his own, and then with that perseverence and willingness to train, he and his team can grow. But what Kieran HEARD was, "fuck you, I hate you, you're pathetic, you're going to be a weak little pissbaby forever, go fucking die in a ditch, choke on your own vomit, I hope you get eaten alive by ten million trapinch in the savannah biome." Kieran's perception of Drayton never really recovered.

The hair dye that Drayton uses for his purple streak glows in the dark.

[sweetcloverheart]

Actually I’m still bitter about the finale - here’s an AU

I’ve lovingly decided to call this “Because the Butterflies Hate You” AU (Because Butterfly Effect is a spiteful bitch as Gabriel will soon learn).

So Gabemoth does as leaked and tries making his wish to “undo his past mistakes” via taking on Emilie’s coma status and giving his life for hers.

Un(Fortunately) for him, my version of Gimme is petty AF and the dictionary definition of the Jerkass Genie trope+monkey’s paw, so it grants his wish by taking him literally and undoing all his choices that lead him here to this moment - including his meeting Emilie. Should have been a bit more specific on that part Gabbie-boy!

So instead of croaking, Gabriel wakes up in his old family flat from back when he was still Gabbie Grassette. A quick search of his things and his old diary reveals that in this new reality, Gabbie’s attempt to strike out on his own fell flat, as never meeting Emilie meant he never met her parents or Audrey and Andre to help get his fashion career off the ground and create his “Gabriel Agreste” persona to escape his past. After too many failures in attempting to start up his own brand, he eventually (and reluctantly) returned home and took over the family frystand as was originally ordained for him.

Needless to say, Gabe’s not happy about this (nor the fact that he’s still alive, because that means Gimme didn’t use him as the wish’s price as planned), especially since despite all his googling, he can’t find anything about Emilie in the new reality (or Nathalie and Adrien).

So he gives temp control to one of his family employee’s and asks Harry (Who’s comedy career sadly failed to take off) to drive him to Paris under the guise of “Fry research” to see if he can gather clues there (and maybe see how much this world differs from the old one)

When he arrives, he sees the entire city has changed. Certain shops aren’t where they’re supposed to be or replaced with unfamiliar businesses, different people have taken different roles and jobs, and there’s no one who recognizes him. Even Andre, Audrey, and Tomoe are no longer the same people they were in the original universe either...

But even with all that, Gabriel still can’t find any sign of Emilie. Even researching her family turns up no clues for him (though that blasted Amelie seems to be doing well though). He had originally assumed she somehow still managed to break away from her parents, but none of that explains why he can’t find anything about her. It’s like she vanished into thin air. The only real clue he has is that she clearly didn’t find any success as an actress in this universe since he can’t find her filmography.

The same goes for Nathalie - though she seemed to have had a very detailed and lucrative career as an archeologist and explorer a few years back before she all but disappeared from the public eye some odd months ago. Conspiracy theorists point the finger at the mysterious research benefactor from her last expedition, but so far her case has many people stumped.

Which just leaves Adrien - and while his son seems to no longer have articles or magazine covers to track him with in this universe, Gabriel at least hopes one thing hasn’t changed in the universe.

“...Gabbie?” “Yes Harry?” “This isn’t about fry research is it?” “What makes you say that?” “*Gestures to the fact that they’re two grown men hanging outside a middleschool in a van*” “...” “...” “...I promise this makes sense.” “Do you now?”

Luckily for Gabriel, he was actually correct on that point - the Adrien of the new universe still attends Francois Dupont, and he spots him exiting during the lunch bell with some friends (Though that Dupain-Cheng girl isn’t with him - Strange...?). He still looks the same as the old universe, the perfect image of him and his beloved’s dream child

...Except, isn’t his hair a little darker? And the shade of green for his eyes is way off - nothing like the subtle emerald hues of his wife? Also, is that a cane? And why is he wearing that trashy bargain bin outfit for? Just what did that blasted Gimme change to cause his son to become so different!?

Before he can question it more though - a Sentimonster attacks. Yep, still a thing in this universe. Gabriel gets separated from Harry in the chaos but remains calm. After all, if there’s still an active Peacock user (which means it got fixed in this world as well), then that must mean the butterfly must be active too, which also mean that blasted Ladybug and Chat Noir are still around. They should be able to help him.

And Chat (or at least a new one it appears) does show up alongside three other heroes...but there’s no Ladybug among their numbers. An akuma never shows to help the sentimonster either. They take down the creature and rescue civilians caught up in the attack, but the damage done around the school remains as the children are forced to leave early, Adrien included.

Naturally, the lack of a Ladybug wielder despite the Peacock (and what happened to the Butterfly Miraculous? Is it not active? Was it never found?) still being in play is concerning, but Gabriel’s more interested in following his son (who technically isn’t really his son anymore but eh - semantics), to make sure he gets home okay - aaaaaand maybe learn more about his new life in the post-wish verse and possibly find a clue about Emilie. After all, if their son still exists, that must mean she still used Dusuu’s powers to create him which also means his wish didn’t change anything

Of course, it’s just then that Gabriel gets ambushed and dragged away into a random alley. When he finally regains his wits he learns his attacker is...

Marinette (wielding the Pig Miraculous no less), who as it turns out, still remembers the old timeline too - and is very pissed at Gabriel for that backstab venom (oh, and also for throwing the fabric of the cosmos out of whack because he thought he knew better than her, his wife, and the centuries old cosmic demigod).

Lucky for him though, she’s prioritizing undoing his universe-sized goof up over payback (for now), so now the two have to work together to find the Ladybug, get the Cat’s new owner to help them, and undo Gabriel’s wish to turn things back to normal. Hurray...

[captain-astors]

5 for the ask game?

Warning for uncomfortable teeth discussion and teeth drawings.

After all these years... I've finally finished it. WE'RE TALKING ABOUT GHOUL TEETH! The amount of time I've spent on this really makes it feel weird but the longer I dwell on that the more it actually is, so without further ado.

(The numbering system was mostly for my own convenience when trying not to lose these pictures that all look the same at first glance, but I kind of adapted to it as I was writing this.)

A1 is a pair of human teeth drawn by yours truly. The cuspids will typically be a bit duller, but otherwise these are pretty average, if poorly drawn. These will be your point of reference because pointy teeth can look normal when not compared to how genuinely flat our teeth are.

Now we have B1, this is the mostly widely recognized kind of ghoul teeth, used in scary propaganda and horror films, very vampire-esq. Sharper cuspids, slightly slimmer teeth, but difficult to distinguish if you're just walking past, or even taking a good look without a point of reference.

Some ghouls with noticeable B1's include the Kirishimas, Itori, Nishiki, Donato, Yumitsu, and Tatara. But! Here's the thing, there's actually two kinds of common ghoul teeth and this one's actually found with less frequency than the other kind,

B2, almost all the teeth are more pointed than the human counterpart, but typically a bit more dulled than this example.

Some ghouls with noticeable B2's are Naki, Kanae, Irimi, Koma, Hinami, Roma, Miza and Shikorae.

Now we've dealt with the fun art stuff, time to get into the technical nonsense that I frankly know too little about dental functions to speak on but you cannot stop me with anything short of death itself. Proceeding! (There will be more fun art stuff further down)

The public is vaguely aware that there are actually two kinds of teeth distinctions that ghouls can have but it's more of an obscure trivia bit than common knowledge unless you work for the CCG, "You can tell an octopi's gender by whether or not it has suckers on the third arm to the right." type of factoid. Shirazu was actually pulled aside by investigators quite a few times times before even undergoing the Quinx procedure, just because his teeth give the impression of an unfortunately noticeable B2 ghoul. They had a record of him in the office for those working in the area he used to live in, that pretty much boiled down to "He's not a ghoul, please do not attack or interrogate if encountered in the wild, he's just Some Guy."

He's built like that for the same reason he was a good candidate for the Quinx procedure.

When it comes to concealment, It's pretty common practice for ghouls to have something extremely hard to chew on in order to seem to have completely average teeth, but if that's not their thing the bolder ghoul can just go the Uta route of "It's a body modification"

But in general dentists aren't a great idea unless you're a fortunate ghoul with naturally passing teeth, and even then only in necessity. Which is why it's remarked in confusion that Hajime Hazuki's teeth are "so straight," if he were a ghoul by birth that shouldn't really be the case.

Even now they obviously posses much stronger bite forces and teeth than any human, but this is actually quite a step down from ghouls of old. When integrating themselves into human society wasn't strictly necessary outside of simplifying hunts, the best comparison I can think of is monkeys. You'll see an actually drawing of roughly that in the next part...

This series has an unfortunate amount of unethical experiments, breeding, and hybridization fuckery, and this would feel incomplete if I didn't make an attempt to acknowledge that!

First off biological half ghouls. They're kind of a toss-up, they'll never have teeth as sharp as their ghoul parent, but there's a chance they'll only get certain teeth or none at all. Eto's the prior kind, her cuspids are a little pointy but she could easily pass as entirely human. I don't want to think about Ichika for any longer than I have to so that's all you're getting.

Artificial half-ghouls, Oggai and Quinx! They don't just magically grow sharper, your human teeth stay perfectly normal but the shift happens when they're broken and have to regrow after time/reaching a high enough frame, kind of an inevitability for artificial half-ghouls because human teeth are not made for ghoul shenanigans.

Amon gained a pretty good set of B2's but Takizawa's look a little like a weird yet subtle mix. (Not every ghoul falls neatly into one category or the other, but the vast majority do.) Kurona and Nashiro both ended up with B1's, Mucchan is a B2, Shirazu is as well but there was barely a change, Urie's a B1 and Saiko's never had to regrow her teeth but she'd be a B2. Aura, Higemaru, and Suzu are B2, Hsiao and Ryuusen are B1 but whether or not this has been shown is arguable.

Kaneki's teeth remained stubbornly humanoid regardless of how many times they were removed. Back when he had his mask made, Uta took note of this as an interesting trait and that's why the zipper-teeth are such a central feature. The Oggai are similar, but they were pretty good at keeping their human teeth anyways. More about this and the fruit bastard you'll notice is lacking from the half ghouls in a little.

Now the... breeders? What would you even call these three groups. Blades, Tsukiyamas, and Washuu Clan. The Blades aren't really interested in striving for appearances so they just have a mix of the two, mostly B2's with a couple B1's.

It gets a little more interesting for the other two.

The Tsukiyamas not only refine their ghoul traits into unique appearances, they pride themselves on those qualities and have the money to get away away with it. Their Kagunes may not be the strongest but by god do they draw the attention of the whole room in terms of unique mutations. So too are their teeth! Mirumo's are impressively noticeable B1's by themselves, but the real star is Shuu. Primarily inherited from his mother, they're one of the closest things to and old ghoul's teeth you'll find in the modern world. (Pictured bellow)

Outside of his pure influence, knack for luring in good dishes and wealth, part of the reason he's so liked at the restaurant is that he's just capable of ripping things up in a way that very few modern ghouls can. It's great fun to watch, but he rarely agrees to do so the first time around on account of his preference for actually prepared dishes and "polite" behavior, not to mention ghouls generally don't like to eat in front of others. But few are entirely immune to persuasion, and Shuu certainly isn't among them. It's quite the spectacle. Downsides: They're kind of awkward for such a verbose person, and if he bites a little too hard he can take his tongue clean off without meaning to. It'll grow back quickly but it's definitely not fun.

Now for the Washuu garden, where the only the thing they're growing is broken kids and misogyny.

As Rize states, the more human you are the "better" you are to them, and this extends to physical appearances as well. So, even the ghouls posses pretty human-looking teeth, but for most branches there's a noteable type that tends to surface. Arimas stay impressively human so they tend to be liked, Ihei's tend to be B2s, Kaikos willingly make them as dull as possible but they lean towards B1, Souzus tend to be B1s as well, Rize's branch tends to be B1 and the Furuta branch tends to be B2.

Which brings me to my final comment, fruit! An annoyingly unique case, with the closest perhaps being Suzu, but the operation and situation is vastly different for her and 179 is not real and cannot hurt me. Anyways, I've discussed his warring RC systems at length, on account of that with the added detail of the different teeth kinds for himself and Rize, if he was to lose all of those it might look a little like this.

I speak from experience when I say that wouldn't be fun but whatever he deserves the suffering. Enjoy never being able to close your mouth entirely without some amount of discomfort Nimura, you chose this life.

That is all thank you and goodnight apologies for the wait.

[gkt-tummyaches]

halloween ppg

it feels like a bit of a no-brainer that the powerpuff girls would celebrate halloween. both because about 70% of the united states participate in the holiday, but also because of how much professor utonium is probably invested in it too.

he feels like one of those parents who go all out for every holiday. we're talking themed baked goods, hundreds spent on decorations, even making his own if he has a specific vision in mind. maybe it doesn't always turn out great but the effort makes the entire ordeal all the more endearing. without fail, he'll turn the house into something pulled out of a kitchsy 80s horror film.

usually it's something sci-fi. it's never anything too scary, leaning more into gimmick and theatrics; eerily colored lights to shine out the windows, life-sized props all over the front yard, something spooky playing out the speakers on the porch. always wants to be outside handing out the candy by hand - one year he even dressed up as a prop that 'came to life' to give the trick or treaters a little scare.

to the surprise of many, blossom is the most excited for halloween every year out of her sisters. there's a challenge in the arts & crafts element of it all that gets her every time; despite her fumbling with pottery, she's actually quite good with papier-mâché.

she might not get into the decoration and baking as much as the professor, but blossom's a mastermind in all things constume and design. will raid bubbles' supply of materials, and when that's depleated - as it often is, given the grandiosity of blossom's projects - she's a whirlwind through every hobby lobby and michaels in town. it's one of the few times blossom will willingly go to parties, if only to have a chance to parade around town in her costume.

one year she's the beldam in bug-form with mobile legs. one year she's a plague doctor with painstakingly gorey detail. one year she was a xenomorph on digitigrade stilts, another year was spent working on her costume early in april because she wanted her naga tail to 'authentically' slither when she moved. blossom doesn't do halloween in halves.

the biggest part of it, for her, is probably that most of her costumes are like camoflauge. she can join competitions, parties, other little events and not be recognized once. she's willing to go the whole nine yards: body paint, latex alterations, even dyes her hair if the costume doesn't cover her up. the anonymity is refreshing.

(it's a little bit of an ego boost, too. an affirmation that she can be good at things without her name being attached to them. she's the best because she's good at it, not because of any biases.)

buttercup, on the other hand, is about what you'd expect. she's a little bit of a ritualist when it comes to halloween. there's a routine to follow as soon as the sun goes down: watch a classic at the theaters with friends, go get food, walk around town to admire everybody's costumes, then go home with an armful of junk food to have a real horror movie marathon.

maybe they'll do it in cheap joke costumes, maybe they won't. sometimes they kick around the neighborhoods and see if there's any adults that'll hand them candy despite the fact that she and her friends are obviously too old to be trick-or-treating.

otherwise, halloween's a pretty chill holiday for buttercup. she can appreciate the atmosphere and everybody else's efforts - for her it's just about quality time. she doesn't even like horror films that much. everything's just for a little bit of fun.

which sort of makes her the only relaxed halloween-enjoyer in the family, since bubbles is also vaguely fanatic. not as intensely as blossom or the professor, though certainly more invested than buttercup.

her whole thing is the events that go on. the parties, the haunted houses that take like an hour's drive to get to, the spookified escape rooms, the plethora of poor quality horror films that get released in time for the festivities.

the atmosphere, she'll say. bubbles is in love with the atmosphere. she's not a super spooks fan either, but it's that thrill that's the best part. a little bit of a rush is all she's after - she'll attach herself to a group for the night and, by influence of popularity, manage to join in on whatever corn maze they plan on tromping through.

she frolicks through all of it. on the outside bubbles appears entirely unfazed in whatever generic costume she put on, grinning at everything; like nothing can break through the joy and the laughter. (little do people realize, the fun-lovin' is caused by every little shriek of terror or flinch or half-yell around her. just basking in the fear fest.)

there's also the themed treats and decor side of things that bubbles is into. sometimes, if asked, she and the professor will spend the afternoon baking goodies. she's not as inventive when it comes to the designs but it's still fun.

// bubbles and buttercup are definitely both adrenaline junkies, just in different measures. halloween is when bubbles gets to absorb all that apprehension in the air and basically exist on an adrenaline high for most of the night 😭 it does mean buttercup's usually the one most prepared for a fight if one were to occur. her costumes aren't ever anything extensive, are easy to remove, etc. though blossom usually takes precautions when making her costumes to make them easy to slip off - or on some iconic occassions, simply easy to fight in. (the epic battle of pink-powered candyman vs blue tentacled cyclops is still talked about to this day.) i think overall they definitely have an appreciation for nightlife style halloween festivities, especially in the city. but a lot of it just comes from the chintsy, b-rated side of things, and how it's sort of ironicized given how they grew up. which i think is why blossom is all-in for costume, bubbles for the thrill, while buttercup seeks out the mundanity of it; each reaction is valid, just different. i haven't really thought about how the rrb and ppnkgs might differ in this, if at all. there's probably the shared feeling that being superhuman kind of takes a lot of the fun out of things, or the embracement of the holiday regardless of how 'scary' things actually are depending on the person. i do think, regardless of the above, some of them would do stupid matching outfits. that could be cool 🤔

[starsmuserainbow]

Verse Information - Pyrrha in ‘We’re All Heroes’

Short version, this is a verse I create for my non-hero/villain muses to fit into typical superhero worlds.

Born into an average family as an only child, Pyrrha Nikos showed great skill and proficiency in sports soon in her life. It's not like her parents pushed her into it, she simply enjoyed it and always strived for being great at what she loved to do. She won tournaments from early on in her life, and soon became a rather famous athlete as she kept winning tournaments throughout various sports (most disciplines of track and field, a few types of martial arts). While that all was very amazing and she was happy about being so acknowledged, it also made her feel more and more isolated. People looked up to her, people knew her, but no one that she nowadays met actually really knew her. It was all only the public figure of her, be it from her achivements in sports or the few ads she was offered to do. One of these days, during a tournament of track and field, just as it was Pyrrha's turn, a side of the stadium started to crumble, right onto the bench where her toughest opponent was still waiting on their turn. While they were opponents, Pyrrha still enjoyed their occasional banter and the challenge that they gave her in these tournaments, so seeing this tragedy about to happen, she gasped in shock. Pretty much just dropping the javelin she was supposed to throw for the discipline, she watched the scene unfold, except that the wall didn't actually come down. Somehow, the "raincover" that the bench had warped and somewhat hugged the crumbling wall, keeping it up until there was no one endangered from the falling pieces anymore. Such a close shave that could have been a much bigger, much worse, tragedy was a shock for everyone present that day. The next few tournaments of the area were postponed to make sure something like it would not happen again and to ensure that it had not been some form of attack on the athlete. During that time of no tournaments, Pyrrha tried to make sense of what she saw, and of a few strange things that now happened to her during her training.

It was like certain things were moving when she thought about them, now, coming back to her so she wouldn't have to go pick them up, or moving into a position better for her or those around her. It took her a few days to realize it: Somehow, she gained powers of magnetism.

Once Pyrrha realized that she had powers now, she didn't need to think long what she wanted to do. Helping others was always important to her, and now, with abilities, she would absolutely be a hero to be able to do so even more and perhaps on a bigger scale.

Thus, Pyrrha Nikos now has another life outside of her tournaments and sports - one where she is much more "dressed up" than she would usually be. She has not been recognized by anyone yet, and people refer to the heroine as The Red Huntress, which probably comes from the long red sash and her bright red hair. Pyrrha uses a javelin as a weapon and carries a shield with her, all matching the bronze tone of the armor on her outfit, and she is often patrolling to try to protect those in need.

Her looks will consist of casual wear when she is outside of her hero-outfit. Slightly loose, comfortable, soft clothing, often a bit bigger or longer than would be her size, Pyrrha likes it comfy and doesn't really care to style herself all that much. To events, of course, she is totally able to dress up and look more elegant or show off more, but she just prefers it more casual. Her hero-outfit is what is known from her mainverse (or in other words the RWBY shows), though with the addition of a simple mask of the same color as the armor of her outfit. Here's a link to a mask roughly like what I imagine her wearing, and here is a little quick edit I did of how she would look with it on.

Her powers are similar to how they are in RWBY!

Obviously, this is its own AU, so any interactions having happened in her main-verse, or another verse, won’t have happened here.

The tag for this verse is ✫ We’re all Heroes ✫.

[caramel-catss]

gladiolus (ch 1. i'll carry on)

on ao3

chapter word count: 5.2k

sequel to blue bow; continuing aubrey's story post-canon

It’s Saturday morning when Aubrey gets the knock on her door.

The last week has been frantic. Sunny’s mother had actually showed up the day after Sunny’s confession, promptly pressuring the doctors into letting him leave ASAP. He was discharged on Monday after insurance debates and follow-ups at some city hospital were scheduled. Aubrey hasn’t seen him since.

Basil wasn’t so lucky. With only bruises, he was considered fine before he first woke up. Where is he now, then? The psych ward. Okay, well, they were told that he’s been transferred to a “mental health institution” and will stay there for at least two weeks. More if Sunny’s mom presses charges. 

Aubrey knows what it really means, though. Mav had been sent there by his parents a year or two ago, after he came out as a boy. Taken back after they didn’t “fix” him. But Basil has some serious issues, and - and this genuinely is what he needs. He’s getting the help he needs.

And Aubrey? She almost bailed right after she heard Sunny’s confession. She actually did have to run to the roof, get some fresh air in her so she wouldn’t lunge for Sunny’s good eye. But she knew that there was no way in hell she could leave, not right after promising herself to stay. So, she called Kim on the public telephone and asked her to take care of Mom and Bun Bun for a few more days.

But on Monday, she had work. So she slept in the hospital room Saturday and Sunday night, and then Hero drove her to Fix-It.

Yes, she’s working at Fix-It. No, she’s not happy about it. Her now-manager is the only person who’s willing to hire a crazy delinquent like her, and that’s because he genuinely needs the work.

Now it’s Saturday again. A week since Aubrey’s life was turned upside down, again, because Mari didn’t actually kill herself. Somehow, it’s worse than that. Aubrey’s had a good five days to block that shit out while she shelves products, and a good five nights to smoke with the Hooligans and forget.

The knock sounds once more, louder. Aubrey lightly drops Mom’s plate on the couch. She’s been needing to spoon-feed Mom recently; the woman won’t eat at all otherwise.

“Mom, you gotta eat, okay?” Aubrey murmurs. “I know you haven’t been wanting much lately, but you have to at least have a little to keep moving.”

Mom looks at the food and pushes it away. Her eyes turn back to the TV. Aubrey sighs and stands up.

“Hellooooo? Aubrey?” Kel’s voice wafts through the doorway.

“I’m here,” she calls. She grabs her jacket, pulls it on, and answers the door.

Hero and Kel are standing outside. Hero’s tapping his fingers on his leg. Kel lights up when he sees her.

“Hey,” he smiles. “We just wanted to check up on you.”

That’s… new. “Oh, um, I’m alright.”

“How’s your mom doing?” Hero asks. His eyebrows are furrowed.

Aubrey blinks. “You’ve seen her?”

“We passed by her when we first visited you,” Kel explains. “Hero’s been worried ‘cause she seemed really out of it.” Judging by Kel’s look, Hero wasn’t the only one.

“Probably drunk when you saw her,” Aubrey mutters. “I guess she’s… fine. Hasn’t eaten much.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Hero says.

“Uh.” The only help she’s gotten before is from Kim, who mostly just covers for her when she needs it. “...I dunno.”

“Hm,” Hero replies. “Can we come inside?”

Aubrey steps inward, pressing the semi-broken door until it taps against the wall. “Sure.”

Hero makes his way to Aubrey’s mom. He sits down next to her, asking yes-or-no questions. He sounds like he’s about to diagnose her with something. Did you eat today? What about last night? Have you drank anything?

To her credit, Mom gives him small nods and shakes of the head. Better than how she reacts to Aubrey, anyway. Maybe she recognizes him from the past better than she recognizes her.

Kel paces around her house. He eventually walks back over to Aubrey.

“Hey, um, Aubrey… sorry if this is a bad question.”

“Just say it,” Aubrey replies. It’s not like the dam hadn’t broken already. “We’re all supposed to start talking about the hard shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… what did happen with your dad? I heard things at the church, but…”

But he wants to hear her side, too. She… really appreciates that. Aubrey takes a deep breath. This - she really doesn’t like speaking about this. But if Kel genuinely cares, then… She’ll try.

“Um,” she starts. “It was a few months after the Mari thing.” Kel’s expression shifts to worry. “I guess, I guess my grief was kinda his breaking point.” He takes a step forward. “He had a huge fight with Mom one night. About me. And the next morning, he was gone.”

Kel pulls her into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Aubrey freezes for a second, forgetting how to react. Eventually her brain catches up and she awkwardly wraps her arms around Kel. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Kel says. A few seconds pass, then they pull away.

Hero stands up soon after. “I’m going to find someone to help with your mom.”

“Wait, what?” Aubrey turns her head to Hero. 

“She needs extensive help.” Hero bites his cheek. “A professional kind of help, I mean.”

Well, yeah, she knows that. “I can’t afford it.”

Hero bites his lip and furrows his eyebrows. “We’ll… find a way. I’ll pay for it if I need to.”

“Aren’t you broke as shit?” Giving money is an immediate hell no. She appreciates they’re friends again, but she doesn’t need Hero’s pity. “Like, you’re a college student, dude. I know you guys wanna help, but you don’t have to kill yourselves over me.”

With the way Hero flinches, Aubrey knows she shouldn’t have ended with that. “...Sorry. But… really, you don’t have to do everything.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you guys, though…” Hero has a guilty look in his eye.

“Hey,” Aubrey says. She pats Hero on the shoulder. “You don’t owe me. Consider saving Basil and Sunny’s life as more than enough.”

“Haha,” Hero replies, humorless. “Okay. I won’t pay for it. But I do want to find her someone.”

“Let’s compromise on that,” Aubrey agrees. “Thank you, Hero.”

Kel suddenly perks up. “Oh, wait! We came here to ask you something.”

Hero sighs, but he’s smiling. “Of course, Aubrey. And yeah, we did.”

“What’s it?” Aubrey crosses her arms.

“Since it’s summer and we have time to hang out,” Kel begins, “We wanted to go to the beach. Since it’s been a while and stuff…”

“...And,” Hero continues, “We’d like to invite you and your other friends.”

Aubrey blinks. “Oh.” Invite the Hooligans, too?

Hero and Kel look at her as she processes, waiting for her reply. Aubrey’s confusion soon melts into a dumb giddiness. This is the kind of friendship they’re trying to rebuild. And - and they’re okay with her new self coming along, her new friends.

“Fuck yeah.” Aubrey grins.

Kel smiles, something wide and childish and happy in a way Aubrey hasn’t seen in years. In a way that makes Aubrey realize the happiness he’s been wearing, the happiness she envied, was just a cover for emptiness.

“We’ll drive over tomorrow at 10 or so,” Hero says. “Should we go find the Hooligans?”

Aubrey nods. “I promised them I’d hang out today, anyway. You should come with, we’ll tell them.” 

As she speaks, Aubrey begins gathering her things. She pulls on her shoes and adjusts her bow; pulls it too tight, as always. Even now - especially now, the sting is something she can’t handle being without. Sorry, Mari.

“Are they at the park?” Kel asks.

“Probably.” That or the lake, but they’ve kind of ditched the spot after what happened with Basil. Talk about deja vu, huh? Maybe the place is just cursed.

The Hooligans do end up being at the park. They’re all elated at the thought of the beach. When Kim mentions getting a tan, Aubrey realizes that she doesn’t own a swimsuit in her size. Her excitement outweighs the worry, though, and she decides she can just sit on the sand.

Kel spots one of Angel’s trading cards before long. The two fall into a long discussion about different Pokémon, which ends with the group heading to Kel’s house so they can challenge each other. Aubrey plays Mario 3 with The Maverick on Kel’s old NES. Hero has a hilariously awkward exchange with Vance that Aubrey can’t help but eavesdrop on.

“You’re a senior next year, right? Are you thinking of any colleges?”

“Nah. Gonna snag a job so Kim and I can skip town after graduation, though. We’re either going to the city or some other state, anywhere away from here.”

“Oh. Um, that’s cool.”

“You?” Vance raises his eyebrows to Hero.

“I’m in med school.”

“Shit. Guess I shouldn’t smoke around ya, then, in case your teachers kick your ass or something.”

“You’re good, haha… Just not in my mom’s house, please.”

Vance puts his lighter in his pocket and shoves a cigarette back into its pack. He had been trying to discreetly pull them out; unfortunately, he’s an obvious motherfucker. Aubrey has to throw her hand over her face to conceal her snort. She’s rewarded with her character losing a power-up.

After Mav and her finish the world, they end up being somehow led by Charlene to Fix-It. Aubrey tries not to be embarrassed when her manager waves at her.

The group walks into the back room: the greenhouse. Aubrey doesn’t really go in here often. She’s usually stuck in the front. Her manager’s decent enough at gardening to take care of the back himself, she guesses.

Charlene tugs Aubrey’s arm over to some potted flowers. They haven’t bloomed yet, but they seem close. She gestures to one of them.

“What is it?” Aubrey asks. It looks a bit familiar.

The taller girl turns to her with a smile. “...Gladiolus.”

And suddenly this plant is associated with a memory. “Oh,” she says. “Someone once told me that I was like this flower.”

Charlene nods, as if she knows exactly what Aubrey means. Aubrey thinks about how she never really participated when they were out antagonizing Basil. She goes to this greenhouse a lot… are her and Basil friends?

“These ones will bloom soon,” Charlene continues. “But… not yet.”

Aubrey tilts her head. Is Charlene trying to say something? But the girl doesn’t continue, and Kel soon calls Aubrey somewhere else. She forgets about it.

Lunch is at Gino’s. Maybe Aubrey shouldn’t eat this much pizza, but it’s that or the supermarket’s TV dinners. The group crowds around Angel at the Sprout Mole Eater machine. He tries to beat the record for a solid thirty minutes, blowing half his allowance on it. Sunny was the one who set it. The crown is challenged, but ultimately Angel settles for second place.

Kel challenges Aubrey to a basketball game. She doesn’t really play much, only knows how to because of P.E., but why not?

She loses horribly. Lesson learned; don’t fuck with something Kel’s genuinely good at.

In retaliation, Aubrey kicks Kel’s ass at tetherball. The war begins. They spend all afternoon playing different games in the park - capture the flag, knockout, volleyball (only briefly because it doesn’t work well when you use a basketball), and after getting tired of physical activity, Aubrey even learns how to play Pokémon. She’s okay at it, better than the others; Kel and Angel taught opposing strategies.

At some point, the sun begins to set. Aubrey lets time run away from her. It’s with a look at the sky and the jolt of a realization that she forgot to feed Mom. She hasn’t visited Mari yet today, either.

Aubrey’s given space to do both; she’s thankful. As much as she appreciates reconnection, she genuinely prefers to do some of these things alone. Luckily, Mom isn’t nearly as difficult tonight as she was this morning. Aubrey changes Bun-Bun’s water and food before she throws on some pants and heads back out.

For as much as the church is open to all, they lock their doors at sunset. A safety thing. Aubrey can’t help but find it ironic.

Hopping the fence is a practiced motion that Aubrey is more than used to. Like a dance, she swings herself over the metal and lands on the grass. The night is quiet and without wind.

Next to Mari’s grave, the egret orchid has begun to wilt. Aubrey’s not quite sure how to take care of it. She lugs over a hose, drips what she judges to be enough water into the pot, and hopes she did enough. Then she kicks the hose out of the way and settles criss-cross in front of Mari.

“Hey,” Aubrey says. “I hope you’re okay with me coming over later. Even though the pastor said I’m welcome, the churchgoers have finally had enough of me. I can’t really go during the day without getting glared at.”

Aubrey doesn’t know if she’s religious anymore. When she was a kid she would beg for God to forgive her and make her a boy, like her body was. As she grew older, she came to realize that was bullshit and she was a girl no matter what. Either way, God never saved her. Not from Daddy or her friends falling apart.

When she sits here, though, she swears she can feel a presence. Something akin to the spirits that the gravekeeper talks about. It’s almost like, like Mari is still watching over her.

…Hell, she had a dream where she met Mari again, didn’t she? Last week at the hospital. It couldn’t be anyone else, or a dream version of her. That was Mari.

So she likes to think that Mari hears her. That Mari and her are actually having a conversation, even though Mari has no voice to reply with anymore. Maybe she’s crazy, but after everything that’s happened, she can’t bring herself to care.

“Thanks again for talking to me last week,” Aubrey mumbles. “I wish we had more time.”

She always wishes they had more time. Always.

Aubrey twists her finger into the dirt. “Kel and Hero invited me to go to the beach tomorrow. The Hooligans are coming, too. I really haven’t been there since before you died. I’m kinda nervous, honestly. I don’t have a swimsuit or a bikini or anything. Not that they’d make me look feminine, anyway.

“If you were still alive, I’m sure you’d find a way to help me dress up like a girl for it, haha. You were always the one who supported me with those things.

“...My voice has been getting deeper. This stuff was a lot easier when I was twelve. I try to ignore it, there’s worse shit happening to me, but it’s always in the back of my mind, y’know? You once said that a lot of your problems were like that.

“It feels weird to think about your problems, now. Do you get what I mean? Like, because you didn’t kill yourself, it all feels so… confusing. It had looked like all the pieces were in place, but we didn’t notice. But now it’s not that. Am I, am I still bad for not saving you?”

She bites her cheek. Somehow, it always comes back to this - the cause of Mari’s death.

“I kind of feel like I’m in purgatory. Sunny’s in the city, and Basil’s in the ward. And Kel and Hero like to repress this stuff… we didn’t talk about it at all today. I feel like nothing’s gonna happen until I face Basil or Sunny again, but I don’t know if I can do that. Am I taking too much time? No, that’s stupid, it’s only been a week.”

Ugh, why did this have to be so difficult? Aubrey leans back and looks at the stars. The stars always help.

“I’m worried about Basil,” she blurts out.

Nobody questions her - well, nobody’s around to question her. So, Aubrey keeps going. “Like, I dunno. I saw his grandma in her hospital room when I walked down the hall. It made me think about Basil’s behavior the day we checked on him, and… suddenly everything made sense. How he locked himself away. Why he wanted the photo album so badly. The reason why these flowers are here, why your grave was cleaned up.

“Mari, I… he was planning to kill himself. And I, I didn’t notice before. With Sunny moving away and his grandmother dying. I j-just…”

Tears push against Aubrey’s eyes, taunting her. She sniffs.

“How could I face him now, knowing that I hurt him when he needed help most? And how, how could I face him, knowing what he did to you? How am I supposed to feel about him?”

Aubrey pulls in a shaky breath. She sits back up and looks at Mari.

“You said that we aren’t bad people, Mari. That what’s happened has happened. But, but we hurt each other so much. I almost killed Basil. Basil helped kill you. How could… you forgive us so easily? I don’t understand.”

She doesn’t know if she’ll ever understand. She doesn’t know why God hasn’t appeared to damn them all, these murderers and adjacents who call themselves friends. The only good person was Mari, who didn’t kill herself, who never was the reason for their pain. So how could she forgive them? How could she say it doesn’t matter, she loves them anyway?

“I don’t understand,” Aubrey repeats. But Mari can no longer reply.

Her thoughts run blank. She can’t comprehend it all, can’t wallow in self-hatred. There are no words left to say.

So she mumbles, “Goodnight, Mari,” and stumbles to her feet. She walks home on autopilot. None of this makes any fucking sense. It probably never will.

Aubrey’s blankets are old, thin, and dirty. She has to do laundry soon, or better yet, buy new sheets. Maybe she’ll do that with her summer job money.

Sleep comes to Aubrey easily. She’s tired: not the kind that comes from bawling her eyes out for hours, but the kind where she doesn’t want to think anymore. It feels like a welcome embrace. Like an older sister’s warm arms. Aubrey makes no hesitation to accept it.

Morning brings a wave of heat that can only be attributed to July. Aubrey wears a tank top and a skirt. Both pieces are now out of fashion, but seriously, who gives a shit? She’s more worried about getting sunscreen.

Thankfully, Hero and Kel’s mother has some. Soon after Aubrey arrives, she gets fussed over and handed a stick of it before she can ask.

“Thanks, Tia,” Aubrey smiles. 

The woman waves her off. “Nada, querida, keep it! We have too many extras.”

Aubrey blinks. “Um, alright.”

Hero appears with pancakes and other snacks. Kel had already packed a picnic basket, which is now in the back of the car.

“Want one?” He asks. It’s his old recipe, the chocolate-chip ones that him and Mari always made on Saturday mornings.

“Yeah,” Aubrey accepts. The pancake is fluffy and warm on her tongue, just like it always was. These were only ever beaten by Mari’s cookies - if they were even comparable. Pancakes were Hero’s thing, cookies were Mari’s.

Hero grins, but his mother turns to him before he can say anything. “Heitor, quem mais vai? Já está tudo arrumado?”

“Sim, não se preocupe tanto!” Hero sighs lightheartedly. “Vai ser só a gente e os amigos da Aubrey.”

His mom smiles. “Tudo bem, chame seu irmão, por favor.”

Hero nods and turns away, placing his tray on the table before leaving and calling for Kel.

Aubrey decides to sit at the table and eat pancakes until the others show up. Hero comes back over with Kel before long. They play cards while they wait, chatting about the family’s plan for remodeling the house. Apparently, they’re adding a room by the stairs, presumably for Sally once she gets a little older.

It’s slow, but the Hooligans arrive. Mav is somehow last. He rolls his eyes at Kel’s comment about literally being next door, claiming he had “important affairs to attend to first”. Quietly, he admits to Aubrey that he’s been struggling to bind with Ace bandages. 

Kel steals shotgun before Aubrey can, damnit. She settles for the backseat with Kim, squished together with Angel in the middle. The Maverick’s in the way back between Vance and Charlene. He complains about leg room; his loss for choosing that seat.

Hell breaks loose as soon as Hero backs out of the driveway. Angel and Kim fight over the radio - which mainly consists of yelling at Kel to change the station - while Vance yaps about something Aubrey doesn’t really care about, so she half-asses her replies. To Hero’s credit, he doesn’t seem too distracted. Aubrey can only guess it’s a skill that comes with being the oldest of three.

As they make the fifteen minute drive to the beach, Aubrey realizes she hasn’t been in a car in a long time. Not since Daddy left with his, anyway. She never really needed one, at least not yet. The feeling is still a bit jarring. Aubrey’s not stupid - she knows that she’s poorer than her friends. It’s just… weird, looking at these little things.

Aubrey’s shoes meet gravel as she hops through the door. Kim runs past her, cheering. Hero and Kel start unloading stuff from the back, Charlene joining them. Vance lights a cig.

Arms wrap around Aubrey, Angel grabbing her. He points to the shoreline.

“Look at that!” Angel says. “We can play real volleyball!” Aubrey squints. She thinks she can see an abandoned ball down at the shore.

“If it’s not deflated.” She shrugs.

The younger nods. “I’ll go get The Maverick! He can test it!” Aubrey’s left alone as Angel runs off.

Aubrey turns over to the responsible people. Kel’s holding two or three things, and Hero isn’t faring much better, so Aubrey grabs stuff from them both. With Charlene following behind, they look like a weird multi-colored parade shuffling down the boardwalk.

The picnic blanket is the first thing to be dropped unceremoniously. Then someone yells “Shit!” because all the sand gets kicked up by the fabric’s landing. Angel and Kel immediately have to chase after the blanket. Wind and sand particles bite at Aubrey’s eyes, but she laughs all the same.

Aubrey and Kim are tasked with finding medium-sized stones to hold the blanket down. They jog slowly, falling the shoreline and eyeing the water. Kim already kicked off her shoes and left them at their camp, so she wades.

“Ow,” Kim complains. “Stupid-fucking-nerd-rock.” She picks up a tiny yet sharp pebble, throwing it into the ocean.

“Your fault for being barefoot this close to the rocky areas,” Aubrey comments. 

Kim rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

They find the first two stones easily, nestled almost right next to each other. The third takes a little longer, but it isn’t far. The fourth stone gives them trouble.

“What the hell,” Aubrey grunts. “How hard is it to find a stupid rock?”

“Dunno,” replies Kim. “This is dumb.”

Aubrey shrugs.

Kim twiddles her fingers as they head inland to look further. Aubrey can see there’s something on her mind - over the years, Kim’s tells have become obvious.

“What is it,” Aubrey says. Kim blinks at her. “C’mon, I know something’s up.”

Her best friend eventually sighs. “Damn, you’re good at that. It’s just, I dunno, Vance.”

“What happened?” Aubrey asks. Kim squints at the sand.

“It’s dumb,” Kim murmurs, kind of sheepish. “Like, I’m fine with smoking and stuff. Don’t get me wrong about that. It’s just, when Vance…”

Aubrey thinks back to ten minutes ago, Vance immediately grabbing a cigarette. It’s eleven in the morning. “Too much. Too often.”

“Yeah,” Kim nods. “Just gets me worried, I guess. And he’s blowing a lot of our money on it.”

Isn’t Aubrey used to that… “You should, um, talk to him about it, I guess. At least ask him to stop pulling it from your escape fund.” This is bullshit advice and she knows it, but she’s the opposite of qualified.

Kim bites her cheek. “I’ll try. Thanks, Aubs.”

Aubrey smiles awkwardly, and the conversation fades. What a way to fuck that up. She wishes she could actually help with this stuff, but when she thinks about how she’s only worsened Mom’s addiction, she feels horrible.

A few minutes later, Kim suddenly squats. She pokes at the ground. “Hey, check this one out.”

Aubrey looks to Kim. She’s pointing at a rock with some cracks through the middle. It’s fully in one piece, but only barely. A small flower has sprouted next to it - yellow and small, it kind of resembles a sunflower.

“That should be good,” Aubrey nods. She reaches to pick it up, but she’s sliced by one of the jagged edges. “Fuck!”

“Shit, are you okay?” Kim shoots to her feet, checking Aubrey’s thumb. A thin line of blood has formed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she murmurs. Using her good hand, she scoops up some of the wet sand and fills in the stone’s wounds. “That should be better. Let’s take it back.”

Aubrey’s finger continues to sting, so she decides to ask Hero about it once they get back. She hands the stones to others, who place them on the blanket. Hero’s not there - when Aubrey asks, Kel tells her that he went to the car.

She crosses the boardwalk, reaching the parking lot in full strides. Hero is behind the car, pulling a heavy-looking bag over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she calls. Hero practically jumps.

“Aubrey, you scared me!” He laughs.

“Whoops,” Aubrey replies, unrepentant. She holds up her thumb. “You have any Band-Aids?”

Hero nods. “Just in the front seat, I’ll grab them.” When he turns, Aubrey eyes his bag.

“I can carry that,” she offers.

“It’s alright.” Hero shakes his head. “Your hand is hurt.”

Hero returns with the bandage. He hesitates when he goes to give the bandage to Aubrey. She looks at him for a second and notices his guilty expression.

“You can bandage it if you want,” Aubrey says. She can do it just fine herself, but Hero and Mari handled Band-Aid placement when they were kids. Part of her… wants to feel the safety those two radiated again.

“Sorry,” Hero murmurs.

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Um,” he says. “For leaving you to do this” - He gestures at the bandage - “Alone. I was supposed to take care of you guys.”

He said that yesterday, too. “You…” Aubrey doesn’t really know how to comfort Hero. It’s always been the other way around. “You were a kid, too. And you were hurting.”

“Yeah, but I…” Hero sniffs. He tries putting the Band-Aid on, but it gets a little crumpled and part of the cut doesn’t end up covered. Aubrey looks at the squished Spaceboy design.

“We’re here now, that’s what matters.” Aubrey doesn’t really believe her own words, because not all of them are there. Hero smiles; she can tell he doesn’t believe it either.

“Thank you,” he says. “That’s what we should focus on, I think.” 

They’re trying, though, aren’t they? As much as they can, even under all this pressure? Aubrey thinks that, Aubrey hopes that, “Mari’s proud of us.”

Hero kind of blinks at her. It takes him a second to register her words.

“...I really want her to be,” he eventually breathes. “I really, really do.”

Aubrey almost asks him right there if he saw her that night. He had to if she was visiting their dreams, right? That’s what she told Aubrey.

But Aubrey waits a beat too long, because Hero turns away to put the wrapping in the trash.

“Come on,” Hero says, “Let’s go have fun. It’s summer, after all.”

It still bothers her. And it will continue bothering her, but she pushes it to the back of her mind. Hero’s right; it’s summer.

“Alright.” Aubrey nods. “Let’s go have fun.”

It’s sunset when they return home from the beach, soon after eating dinner. The Hooligans are on their thirty-somethingth verse of “99 Bottles of Beer”. Kel’s chugging soda as Mav cheers at him. Aubrey’s had a grin on her face for maybe fifteen minutes now, and she knows it’s not going away anytime soon. Throughout the day, the bow has loosened in her hair.

Hero has to tell the teenagers to calm down multiple times after he parks the car. Of course, it only riles them up more. He eventually gets them all out, and the majority of the Hooligans head out for the park to spent the next few hours in. Aubrey, Hero, and Kel stay.

“You’re not following your friends?” Hero asks.

“I need to check on my mom,” Aubrey replies. “And my bunny, and Mari. I might join them later if I’m up for it.”

“You’re… really responsible.” Hero gives her a sad smile. “Well, we won’t keep you. C’mon, Kel.”

“See ya,” Kel says. “Today was fun. Like, really. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aubrey nods at them both. She waves goodbye as they walk towards the door, but drops her hand when Kel gets distracted by Hector running out of his doghouse. 

Aubrey turns for the end of the sidewalk. It’s still decently warm outside, but it’s way cooler than earlier. She notes to herself that she’ll need to grab a jacket before she visits Mari. And shake the sand out of her shoes. There is so much.

But she doesn’t have to do that yet. The wind is calm, so Aubrey breathes.

This past week has been really hard. Her old friends are murderers. Her sister didn’t kill herself. But - but then. Then Kel, Hero, and the Hooligans have supported her. And this past weekend was one of the most fun she’s had in years.

It’ll be… it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. There’s a lot happening in Aubrey’s life, but there’s also moments like these, where she’s just watching a pretty sunset. She’s… never appreciated that before. She had been too angry at the world to do so. And as much as she kind of hates Sunny and Basil right now, she’s, she’s tired of being angry.

Honestly, it’s hard to admit that to herself.

Closing her eyes, Aubrey makes a decision. She can’t bring herself to forgive Basil or Sunny. But she can’t let those feelings take over her life, either. Not like last time.

Mari, I hope you can understand that. I don’t really know how to feel anymore, but now… because I finally can, I want to focus on the other friendships I lost.

Aubrey lets the world envelope her for a few seconds longer. She prays that Mari can hear her. And even if she can’t, the thought brings Aubrey comfort.

She hopes that this is a good decision. That she’s being mature. Hero said she was just now, but she doesn’t really know what that means, ha.

Slowly, Aubrey opens her eyes. Golden beams of sunlight dully sift through the trees. Okay, she can do this. Feed everyone, shoes, jacket, visit Mari, park. That’s manageable.

Aubrey takes a step forward.

[melishade]

After reading Old Helos meet the Happy Family, cant help but wondering. What kinda weight Maria keep to herself ? Is it that she's afraid she might spill the secret accidently so thats why she feel that dreadful feeling ?

Cause of this, now I remember about OP's uncertain feeling about Ymir Oshern marriage ? Is it hte same thing that Maria feel right now ?

Dont worry, we know yo're busy. You can take your time. We'll wait

PS. Can u make another masterlist ? Im so wanna catch up with all the stories that werent included in Masterlist part 3 ?

Thank U :)

Previous Episode of the Peaceful Timeline

NGL. I don't know if I can update that masterlist without breaking my brain. I'll try but with what I have planned, it would take time.

And Maria's weight has nothing to do with Oshern. She adores him. No. This is about who her biological dad is!

Considering how she's grown up, she shouldn't be questioning this. She has a loving mother, and two fathers who love and adore her unconditionally. Now she has a new father, and a half-sister.

Although...there were some awakened feelings with that.

Initially, she grew a little jealous of Rose when she was born simply because she was getting more attention than her. Megatron quickly dispelled the feeling when he proposed his argument surmounting to "Of course she's getting more attention. She's a baby, and babies are absolutely stupid and defenseless." But once Maria had spoken up about it, they made sure to create a schedule for everyone so that Maria got adequate attention from all of her parents.

But then she got older and experienced more conflicting emotions, and she noticed more things...or at least acknowledged them. She had always known that she was the odd and rambunctious child. She didn't have many friends in the village as a result. She was glad that her mom was able to get more friends after her marriage all those years ago. She wondered what happened. She knew that Optimus and Megatron weren't her actual parents. She'd always known that in her gut. She looked nothing like them. But Rose and Oshern looked so much alike, and it was because Oshern was her actual Papa. There was this sense of jealousy that bubbled to the surface, but she always buried it. It didn't matter in the end. It shouldn't matter in the first place.

But then, 14-year-old Maria meets Helos that day, recognizing her mother and crying at the sight of her Papa. She had then heard the story of what happened that day from another perspective. Ymir didn't talk much about her life in the Eldian Empire. It hurt her. It wasn't meant to be discussed. Oshern had heard the stories of the Savior from Heaven defeating the Devil of the Earth. But at the end of the day, Oshern was an outsider perspective. Helos was someone who was the closest to having insider perspective on the Eldian Empire, and on the dreadful, dead, king. Helos had acknowledged the way that he treated Ymir so cruelly, and Maria couldn't help but feel tears well up into her eyes when her mother seemed so relieved that the king had been dead for so long.

But...it started to make her have burning questions in her mind. And it wasn't helped by the fact that Helos had spared a few glances her way but didn't say a word. Maria had a burning question. An aching thought that needed to be quelled. Maria took notes and did the math. The Eldian Empire fell 15 years ago, she was born 14 years ago. Pregnancies take approximately nine months and Ymir had chosen her birthday to be the day that Optimus had saved her. That time between that day and her birthday was approximately nine months. Meaning...meaning her biological father...was someone from the Eldian Empire.

The thought had kept her up at night. Someone that was responsible for hurting so many people, was her father. But...but who was is? Was it good to know? Should she just leave this along? Why should it matter? All of her parents had hurt people expect for Oshern. But they were trying their best to change and be better. She was fully aware of the summarized history between Optimus and Megatron. But...she was so heartbroken when she learned of what they had done and what they had failed to accomplish. To learn that her papas hurt and killed. If...her actual father was a cruel man...what...what would that say about her? Would she be cruel herself? Is that why she was considered different from the kids in the village? That she was unruly and un-lady like? Because she was...

Maria was extremely tired the next morning, but she had questions. She had first gone to Oshern and asked him if he knew anything about Ymir's time in the Eldian Empire. Oshern confesses that he knows only as much as she does. Which was the basic summary of her life before Optimus came into the picture. Maria asks him if Ymir had told her who her actual father was. Oshern says that he doesn't know and has wondered that himself. Maria begs him to help her find the answer, but Oshern reasons that maybe it would be better if Ymir told her at her own time.

It wasn't an answer she was satisfied with and decided to ask Megatron about it during training. She explains her evidence and findings, but she still couldn't pinpoint who it was. Megatron must know right? Optimus or Ymir must've told him. Megatron confesses that Ymir told him personally, but that it wasn't his place to tell Maria. It makes Maria angry. Doesn't she have a right to know? Megatron retorts that this knowledge is already making Maria lose her mind. How was she going to react once she heard the truth? Was it even worth knowing? At the end of the day, did it even matter?

"Yes it does! I don't want to grow up to be a monster!" Maria gasped before quickly covering her mouth.

Megatron has to stop the training entirely before taking Maria to someplace quiet and calming. She liked the dandelions and started weaving them together into a crown. Megatron explains to her that she is not a monster. She's an ambitious, rambunctious, teenager, who loved without a care in the world and loved the nature around her. Maria retorts that she wasn't perfect. She wasn't well behaved and polite like Rose. Megatron retorts that no is perfect, and that Rose is a lot more devious than she lets others think, earning a giggle out of Maria.

But Maria is still despondent. Because she...she wasn't like everyone else. And...if her father came from the Empire who hurt others, and no doubt hurt and...violated her (she had heard enough stories to know)...would that make her turn into someone like him. A monster? And if that were the case, then that means monsters couldn't be loved. She was born out of a product of pain and suffering. Who would love someone like that?

Megatron challenges her, demanding to know if she doubts that Ymir, Optimus, himself, and Oshern don't love her. Maria immediately says no! But she still...Megatron places a hand on her head and tells her that many have looked on him in fear and called him a monster, but she never did. A human looked at him like he could be more. He doubted that anyone that looked at him like that could be considered a monster. She was too kindhearted to even try.

But even so...Maria still wants the truth. She wants an answer. Megatron still questions if it really matters. Maria challenges that she should know the truth. Megatron takes the flower crown from her and places it on her head before offering her a piggyback ride. He promised her that she would get it, but that nothing would, and should not change from hearing the truth.

Ymir and Optimus are working together on growing crops when Megatron returns with Maria on his back. He tells the two of them plainly that she's been asking questions before setting her down. Maria decides to straight up ask who hear biological father is, causing the both of them to seize up. Ymir starts shaking, and Optimus looks over at Megatron for a confirmation. Megatron reminds him that she was going to ask about this one day. Optimus then has to ask Maria to sit down with the two of them, and she complies. Maria hates the feeling growing in her gut, but she asks again. Optimus is still hesitant. He wants to tell her, but it's not his place, it was Ymir's, but she wasn't speaking. She was afraid, but Maria wanted an answer. He opened his mouth to try and ease her into it, but Ymir spoke one word: king.

And it was enough to destroy whatever innocence Maria had left. She was the king's daughter. The man who had brought hell and ruin to so many people, including her mother, was the one who-?! The thought had made her sick, and she quickly contained the bile that was threatening to come out. She was the daughter of someone everyone hated and despised. She was...she...

"So I really am a monster," Maria spoke without thinking.

Optimus was mortified at the words that came out of her mouth. Before he could retort, Ymir practically lunged towards her daughter and grabbed her face, forcing her daughter to look her dead in the eye. Maria was shocked, never imagining such anger on her own mother. Ymir's own fearfulness had disappeared in an instant.

"Ma-!"

"NO!" Ymir bellowed at her. "NO! Understand?! No! No monster!"

"But-!"

"Say it!" She commanded, her voice getting sore, "Say it! Maria!"

"I'm not a monster!" Maria yelled, even though she wasn't sure if she believed it entirely. Maria yelped when Ymir pulled her close and hugged her so tight she was certain she was going to break something.

"Mine..." Ymir declared, "My...baby...my...beloved...mine."

This time, Maria felt tears well up in her eyes before she hugged her mother back.

Optimus asked Megatron to go to Oshern and Rose in the village to get Maria something from the town over, while he and Ymir tended to Maria. Not once did Ymir let Maria go, and Maria couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as her mother practically smothered her while they sat on the couch. It was like her mother wasn't going to let her go until she dispelled the ridiculous thought of being a monster out of her head. Optimus does come over with tea, forcing Ymir to let her go. He sits down next to her and explains how he cared about the two of them so much, and how he did everything in his power to keep the two of them alive, even before Maria was born. He didn't care how long or how much work it took. The fact that Maria came into this world safely made him happy and content. He even explains the day that she was born and how there was so much uncertainty going in because Ymir, Optimus, and Megatron had no idea what they were doing. But when Optimus handed her over to Ymir, he explains that she never saw her father or herself. She had just seen her. Someone with hopes and dreams that would never live a life of pain and torment as long as either of them lived. Maria turned to her mother, and she nodded tearfully in confirmation.

Optimus goes on to explain that she is not defined by her ancestry. She is not evil, and she is not a monster. She was their daughter and someone they could not live without. They did not see her father. They just saw her, and they loved her no matter what. Maria admits that it still hurts to know this. And they know that. They understand that, but their feelings for her will never change regardless of how she feels and they will be by her side. Maria drinks her tea quietly, enjoying the comfort of both Ymir and Optimus, until Megatron kicks open the door with Rose on his shoulders and Oshern rushes in with baked goods that he's spent a good few hours making.

And Maria feels her spirits are lifted, being surrounded by the people she loved and eating sweets. But afterwards, Maria confesses that she doesn't want to be alone right now. Optimus offers for her to rest in his alt mode for the night. Ymir offers to stay with her, not wanting to leave her daughter. Rose says they should do a sleepover! No questions asked! And Oshern immediately goes to grab the blankets. Megatron pats Maria on the head, reassuring her once more that who her biological father was didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

Hours later, all the humans are camping out in Optimus' alt mode, and Ymir is cradling Maria in the backseat, refusing to let her go. Maria can't help but ask if her mom ever hated her, and Ymir hugs her tighter, replying never. She can't help but cry at that. It's still something she has to come to terms with. And at times it still bothers her, but she still has loving parents who were always by her side.

(And another reason why the 'reasons to hate Fritz' list keeps getting longer. Lol.)

[thedaveandkimmershow]

We flew home today.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it because, since we essentially arrived in Seattle a coupla hours after we left Amsterdam on a ten hour flight...

Today is literally packed with more hours in it than the usual 24.

It's a weird experience thinking major parts of today actually happened yesterday...

When it was all.

The same.

Day.

We didn't get to bed the previous night in anything remotely resembling a timely manner, by the way. After Kimmer's packing extravaganza—a feat in which she seemingly fit more than should fit our luggage into our luggage—after that it was 1:30AM. Setting a wake-up alarm for 5AM, then, left us three-and-a-half hours for, you know, actual sleep. Only I didn't get (or I didn't take) the full three-and-a-half. I got maybe two hours and then lay awake in bed, eyes closed, relaxed under the covers. Not sure what that was all about but, as my friend Ann likes to say, there you go and there you are. 🙂

Regardless of the monumental lack of sleep, I got up a few minutes after five seemingly without penalty. I didn't feel groggy or sleep-deprived. I just got up, readied the hot water for tea and coffee, woke Kimmer up, jumped in the shower and, by the time I was done, she's up and we're doing our final step of packing the last of our belongings into our luggage before zipping them closed, moving them to the door while we stream "Cunk on Earth" on Netflix and take a few moments to eat some of our food for breakfast that's part of the food we can't take home with us 'cause there's no room.

Coupla minutes to 630, my cousin texts me a "Goodmorning!!!!!" and we're on our way down to the hotel lobby where, surprise surprise, not only is my cousin waiting for us but also her daughter, my niece, both lounging on the couch. It's a surprise because my niece was supposed to be overnight in another town to the east of her hometown, with friends celebrating their new home. Instead, she cut that night short and showed up to see us away.

Which was very very very very very very VERY sweet of her. ☺️

After we squared things with our hotel, we found my cousin's husband waiting outside, car backed up to the ramp in front of the entrance. So we throw our bags in the back, jump in the car, and off we go.

I should mention here that I'm pretty proud of us 'cause this one time at the start of our marriage when we did this 'lil exercise, departing Holland a touch over thirty years ago, it was a comedy of errors. We were staying with my aunt and uncle outside of Amsterdam and we were still packing the very morning our flight was to leave. So it was a messy morning, rushed. I think my uncle might've slightly dinged a car behind and opposite his as he backed out of his parking spot in a hurry to get us to the airport on time. He was pretty classy about the whole affair, only casually remarking how my parents were always packed 'n ready a coupla days before leaving.

This time around, Kimmer packed us at the tail end of the previous day—technically the first hours of our departure day—then we slept a little, got up when we were supposed to, and were out the hotel right on time.

630AM.

Our plan's to arrive at Schiphol Airport three hours prior to our flight. Which is what happened.

So HUZZAH!!!!

😁

The night before, my niece gifted Kimmer with a candy-filled Harry Potter mug. So in the car this morning they're comparing Harry Potter merch when Kimmer asks my niece if she has any of the stickers.

No, I wish! comes the reply.

Now it so happens I have Harry Potter stickers in my rucksack 'cause I was gonna take some time on the flight to Holland placing them on my new water bottle. Never got around to it, though. So I pull them from my bag and hand them over to the back seat.

My first moment of gift-giving as an uncle. 😊

Later on the road, I recognize a bookend experience:

It's daylight again, the late morning of our first day in Holland. Monday. January 1. Six days before. We're traveling across the countryside to our hotel. The sun's out. It's been raining so the trees and grass and highway are painted with a lovely sheen. There are moist reflections in every color, on every texture, in everything we see. Which makes for a beautiful, classic Dutch pastoral scene.

On the radio, it's Depeche Mode, The Cure, and later, "Babe" by Styx. The inside of the car's basically filled with an 80s vibe. I'm talking music with my cousin's husband who's driving the car. We talk 80s music. Popular music. And, of course, music as it relates to my daughter's career as a professional musician. ☺️

Now it's six days after. It's today, this very moment, on the way to Schiphol Airport in the morning while it remains dark outside. It's nighttime for all intents and purposes even though we're navigating the space between 630 and 730 in the morning. In the front seats of the car we're talking about vacations, about traveling by car from Seattle to southern California, about driving that same distance from Holland to southern Italy. My cousin's husband describes yearly vacations ("holiday" as he refers to them) that are the equivalent of piling everyone in the car and hitting the road. In this case, he talks about arriving in Tuscany. He talks about arriving in Genoa. He talks about avoiding hard-case luggage in favor of duffle bags. He talks about traveling through Switzerland, driving the never-ending Gotthard Tunnel, traveling over the mountains when the tunnel's backed up. He describes one vacation they showed up on an Italian beach and no one was there. He describes various strategies for doing this holiday including splitting the 16-hour drive in two with a stayover in Switzerland, allowing for a 10AM casual departure on the first day of their travels. Returning home, the driving strategy becomes a single, mostly overnight, drive to avoid traffic.

It's fun to compare the way we take family vacations, family holiday. It's fun to compare all the things about them that are the same and the very few things that are different.

We also talk about traffic leading into Amsterdam, traffic cams on the outskirts of Amsterdam that serve the same purpose as the traffic cams in school zones in our neck of the woods. We talk about apps he uses to spot and report speed traps and, because we hit a bird just then, we share our own personal stories of hitting birds and other animals on the road. I relate stories I heard about deer leaping right into the sides of trucks or RVs. He wins for a personal story because one time on the way home with friends, a pretty large bird impacted the front windshield, smashing it inward. He's in the back seat of the car at the time looking up something on his phone when the impact occurs. So it's a violently sudden, catastrophic experience for him.

At the same time we're talking about all these things, the back seat of the car is engaged in more relational fare. Boyfriends and girlfriends. Parenting. And school.

At one point we're talking about another one of my cousins. We're talking about their kids when my niece leans forward into the front seat space to fill us in on a few things including shared family vacations with that cousin's family and that time one of the sons was in a TikTok video with his teacher. He was pretty embarrassed by it... but the video did get a lotta views. 😁

And with these competing, complementary, and mostly overlapping conversations in play, we pull into a parking lot at the airport, pull our bags from the back of the car, and walk into the terminal, the five of us.

It's 742AM.

In case you've never been, Schiphol Airport is huge. Schilphol Airport is MASSIVE. And while SeaTac has every airline represented in the main terminal as you enter, at Schiphol there's nothing central like that. You basically figure out in which direction your terminal is then you walk a bunch until you're closer to that terminal from which your flight leaves. It's only there that you finally arrive at the self check-in kiosks and the self baggage drop.

A lotta selfs going on in this airport, I gotta say.

It's definitely a good thing our family's with us because paying for our one big piece of luggage turns into at least a ten minute ordeal. The scanner can't (or won't) read my card. Can't. Can't. Can't. Until finally, with family standing all around me, pitching me suggestions, the scanner humors me and decides to work.

So family, as it turns out, is the essential ingredient to successfully paying baggage fees at Schiphol Airport. 😉

Once that's done, I realize we're living our parent's experience because, once upon a time, my parents, too, left with a lot of family food gifts in their luggage. Once upon a time, too, they had to buy extra luggage, like my cousin did for us the previous day, to hold all those food gifts. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles walked my parents through the airport, helped them with their bags. Once upon a time, too, my aunts and uncles bade my parents farewell in this very airport with embraces and kisses on the cheek.

What was true then, it turns out, remains true today. I think the only difference is that we're more huggers these days.

Another difference, I think, is that we're more likely to draw this moment out because we don't want it to end. We can always think of more conversations to have, more pictures to take.

In the end, we say the things we need to say to each other, the things we want to say. And I'm sure after one round of hugs and a subsequent impromptu conversation, we indulged another round of hugs as if the first one never happened.

For me, my regret is leaving this family. This one and the larger one with whom we navigated the week. I'm also caught by the realization that it would've been a pretty cool thing to have known my cousin's husband earlier in both our lives. And I'm profoundly struck by the fact that, while we live a pretty good and fulfilling life in the states, our lives would've been better, our lives would definitely have been better, with my cousin in it.

Because she really is all that.

☺️☺️☺️

With our extended goodbyes out the way, and after one last round of family photographs—all of us in one image—my cousin and her family start making their way back to their car as we turn to get in line for the self baggage drop.

As we take our place in line, I remember to look back for my family. I immediately spot them walking away. They've been keeping track of us in line as well. And in that moment in which we catch each other's attention for the last time, we reach our hands high into the air to wave goodbye.

And finally.

Finally...

Go our separate ways.

❤️❤️❤️

[carol-effing-danvers]

Walk Around With Your Guts Hanging Out

(AO3 version)

Billy isn't fucking her but it works really well if everybody and their brother thinks that he is. Well, at first they think he's fucking her. And then because she's an adorable little gremlin and he lets her stick around for a while, everybody and their brother thinks they're dating, even though not a single soul who's ever met either one of them would've expected it.

Chrissy is exactly the opposite of Carol and Nicole and any of the other girls Billy uses to hide his secret - cotton candy and bubblegum voice, like a little girl, cardigans, the whole works. Neil actually seems pleased on the few times they've met, which is nearly enough to put him off all together. Then he remembers 'please, Jason, let go - please, you’re hurting me'. Remembers the vivid ugly color of the healing bruise across her shoulder. The vision of her in his mind he could see in eight or ten years - beaten up and broken, with a little blue-eyed boy clinging to her side just like his mom and he knows he'll never tell her to get lost.

Her parents, on the other hand, hate hate HATE Billy. He parties seven days a week. He drinks. He smokes. He swears. He spits. He wears black leather and faded denim instead of pressed khakis and polyester. His hair is longer than hers. Billy has seen the way her mother looks at Chrissy and recognized the familiar glare of Perpetual Dissatisfaction.

So, yeah he's maybe a little overprotective of her and that's fine because it looks like possessiveness on the outside and if it's not, it's nobody else's fucking business, okay?

He pulls her into his lap at parties, lets her pet his hair and giggle in his ear. If he was capable of loving a girl, he'd pick her if he had any choice, because they know all each other's secrets.

Except for one little, tiny detail.

Until the party at the quarry just before the new school year begins and he sees Harrington with this tall chick from his graduating class in the deep end, standing so close together and he can hear their voices echoing off the high spaces.

"You can do it, Robbie, I gotcha-" all cutesy and goo-goo eyed.

He wants to throw up.

"-just-just hang on," she says nervously, clutching onto Steve’s shoulders.

And Billy knows that he's staring, and it hurts so bad, but he can't look away-

"Oh," Chrissy says quietly, and then reaches down and squeezes his hand.

Billy forces himself to tear his eyes away, though they feel magnetized to Steve Harrington’s bare torso. The urge to keep staring wars with the sick, tight clench in his stomach as he watches this girl put her hands all over him. Shit, he didn’t used to have chest hair. Fuck.

His teeth grind together as his eyes sting, but he forces it back, blinks and looks at Chrissy. He has no way of knowing what his face is doing, but it can’t be good because her eyes crinkle with sympathy at his expression. “So…” she murmurs under her breath, taking his other hand. “That’s your guy, huh?”

“Not mine,” he mumbles, squeezing back as though he can…absorb her straight-ness, maybe? Christ, if only it worked like that… He swallows, his throat so tight that his voice comes out strained and hoarse: “I tried to-to…fuck, I don’t even know, Chris. I was really shitty to him. Wanted to get his attention.”

She swings their joined hands, pulls him in closer and goes up on her tiptoes to give him a hug. To an onlooker, it probably looks quite sweet and romantic. “What happened?”

He leans his face down, as though he is whispering sweet nothings in her ear. “Broke his face,” he mutters, stomach burning anew - with shame this time. “Could’ve killed him if my stepsister didn’t stop me.”

“Billy,” she sighs softly, sad in the way that only she is allowed to get away with - in anyone else, that comment would’ve had him exploding in a rage. For Chrissy, he presses his face to her shoulder and swallows down tears at her disappointment in him. Why she ever expects Billy to be better than is, he’ll never know.

He never thought there would be another person who believed there was any good in him. Having one person who thought he was worth a damn was unbelievable enough. Of course, that too only lasted so long…

No, I don’t want to think about that.

Chrissy draws back, running her hands down his forearms in a soothing motion. “We could go down and talk to them,” she suggests with a smile that shows her dimples. She laces their fingers together and gives him an adorable, suggestive little bounce with her eyebrows. “Be their friends?”

Chrissy has this very strange view of Billy, in his own opinion: she seems to think that because he’s nice to her and she likes him, that obviously if he’s nice to everyone else, they would like him, too. He’s tried to explain that people don’t work like that and that she’s just too nice of a person in general. People are assholes, especially other guys, and as the new kid he could either be the biggest bitch in the room or he could be the biggest asshole and rule them all. With those dogshit options, Billy would always choose to be king. But she’s incredibly stubborn for such a cute little thing and persists in this thinking that he can somehow be a sweet, nice guy.

Actually, now that he thinks of it, maybe he should ask Chrissy if she’s been hanging out with Munson lately, because that sort of thing has to mean she’s on the good shit and real friends share, Chris.

He grimaces, and she pouts, apparently able to read his thoughts just from his expression. With more of a cajoling tone, because she is actually a tiny devil, Chrissy says “Wouldn’t you like it? To be his friend? He might at least smile at you, that way.” A bit wistfully, she adds “He was always really nice to me and the other underclassman, you know. Ronny Donovan tried to pull my pants down in gym class once and he cursed him out and threw a basketball at him. It hit him right in…well, right there.”

From her blush, it’s clear what Chrissy means by ‘right there’. How she got all the way to age seventeen and can’t bring herself to say ‘dick’ out loud is beyond him. “Jesus Christ,” Billy groans. “Now I gotta kick Donovan’s ass, too.”

She laughs at him, like she thinks Billy’s joking or something.

***

“Stay here,” Steve tells Robin, ‘here’ being where she can still touch the bottom of the water. She’s made great progress in her ability to swim - she’s a fast learner, after all - but Steve’s own mother hen instincts freak out at the idea of her in deep water when he can’t actually watch her. He winks. “I’ll get our refreshments.”

He swims back toward the deepest part of the water, where there was still a little blue rubber duckie bobbing up and down. Steve dives, letting his fingers find the long wire of fishing line attached to the duckie and follows it all the way down to the very bottom of this man-made lake, pulling up the bottle of spiced rum attached to the other end and buried there before pushing off for the surface again.

Robbie had been skeptical of this plan to keep it cold without ice, but Steve knew what the fuck he was talking about when it came to parties and all things party adjacent. She brightens as she sees Steve break the surface, making grabby-hands at the bottle as he swims close enough to approach the part of the larger drop-off where it was still possible to stand on the bottom.

Grinning, Steve unscrews the cap and takes a healthy swig, letting the smooth, tingling burn of the rum coat his stomach before offering it to Robin who takes a good sized gulp of her own. “Oof,” she gasps, breathing out the heat of spice and liquor. “Wow.”

“Too much?”

“No, it’s actually really good,” she says, impressed. They get settled in a shallower part of the quarry and Steve lets Robbie wrap her legs around his waist instead of swimming under her own power.

They’re technically about the same height, so she could still reach the bottom here but they were in deep enough water that she would have to put in some effort, and Robbie is a fast learner but there’s no substitution for building up endurance in any physical activity, so he doesn’t really mind helping her cheat a bit - especially once they’ve been drinking for a while and letting Robbie swim by herself could be actively dangerous. Anyway, they're in the water, so it's not like she really weighs anything.

Steve does shift her slightly, so that she’s resting on his hip rather than directly in his lap, though. His dick has enough strange ideas of its own without her help, thanks.

“It’s way too smooth,” he agrees with a laugh. “I’ve gotten really fucked up on things like that, so take it slow. Becky McConnell?”

“God, yeah. I love her hands,” she gushes. “She always has the perfect manicure, it’s great. Debra Lennox?”

“Yes! Don’t you love that-that like glitter skirt she wears with the tights?” Steve sighs. “Amazing. She has such fantastic legs. Tanya Greene?”

“Hm,” she says, taking another swallow and tapping her fingernails on his shoulder while she considers this. “...no.”

“No?!” Steve squawks, outraged. “Her tits are perfect! And her hair-!”

“Is red,” Robin agrees. “That’s why - it freaks me out, dude.”

Confused Steve asks “Do you have a preference for the…erm…the carpet and the drapes?"

Robin laughs at his expression. "It's not that," she says, once she can control her snorting and giggling. "It's the eyelashes."

"Eyelashes," he repeats, wondering if he's somehow gotten a third concussion in the past year.

She groans. "I know! It's so stupid but - y'know how a real blonde or a natural redhead has like…really pale eyelashes? So it almost looks like they don't have any at all?" He nods, taking the bottle from her for a quick swig. "...yeah, that freaks me out. Can't deal with it."

Steve cackles. "You are so weird."

She hums again around another drink, pulling the bottle away from her mouth to whisper "Your boyfriend's here."

Speaking of strange ideas his dick already has. Steve glances in the direction of her gaze and groans, thumping his forehead against her shoulder. "Why did I tell you that?"

"Who else would you tell?" Robin points out.

"Chrissy Cunningham," he says thoughtfully.

Her brows bounce upwards. "You'd tell his girlfriend you wouldn't be opposed to sucking her man's dick?"

"Keep your voice down," he hisses, swatting uselessly at her leg. "No, Robbie - the game. Would you fuck Chrissy?"

She pouts. "You took my turn, asshole! …yeah." Guiltily, she smiles and adds "It's the cheerleader outfit, isn't it?"

"It doesn't hurt," he says with a grin, then quirks one brow, a little smirk still pulling his mouth up on one side. "...and I'm pretty sure she was just staring at your ass."

"She was not!" she complains, though Robin turns to look where Steve was looking in a reverse of their earlier conversation.

Subtly, Steve shifts his position so that she won't have to turn her head so far - except that Robin immediately jerks her face back to his, looking a bit frightened. "Rob?"

Her arms curl around his shoulders, as though Steve is a very large teddy bear she can comfort herself with, and Robin swallows. He grows more concerned when, now pressed closely together like this back to front, he can feel her heart and it's racing. "I think Billy just saw me checking her out," she admits in a whisper, still clutching the back of his neck with both hands. "He looks pissed. Steve…"

Quickly, Steve looks over her shoulder and confirms: Billy and Chrissy are indeed coming this way and he seems to look even more threatening than usual.

Steve’s hands tighten their grip on her legs. He's heard shit- things. About what can happen - what people do to queers they find in their neighborhoods. Men. Women. Boys. Girls.

"I won't let him, Robbie," he promises quietly. "I don't care how good his ass looks in lifeguard shorts."

"Let him what?" she demands, and he can feel how tense her muscles are. He suppresses a wince at the feel of her nails, bitten down though they are, gouging his biceps.

"Doesn't matter, I won't let him. I don't think he'll do anything in front of Chrissy, though." Steve runs a hand down her back, tries to soothe her as best as he can. They can't play I'd Fuck Her anymore with them so close now. Steve hopes to tease her into getting more comfortable, so circles back to an earlier argument. "...I still think it’s Kashmir."

***

They're whispering to each other, all cuddled up against each other and again, Billy feels his stomach rebelling. Sounding like a whiny toddler even to himself, he asks "Do we have to?" He scowls. "She's fucking… touching him. Everywhere. All the time."

"You're jealous," she says lightly.

"Yes," he bites out, teeth clenched.

“Hey, I actually recognize her!” she tells him.

“Yeah?” Even though Billy is pretty sure that she’s an upcoming senior like him and Chrissy, but unlike the rest of his classmates, he hasn’t known 99% of the people in this school for a decade or more and he likes his place at the top of the food chain, so he doesn’t really bother to learn outside of the higher social circles.

“She’s Rae-Rebecca? No! Robin!” Chrissy says, her expression slowly brightening. “Robin Buckley! She’s in the school band. I’ve seen her in the gym sometimes at games.” She sighs a little, head tilting as she gazes at Robin in her little blue and green bikini. “She’s cute.”

Billy darts a sideways glance at her face. He’s…uh, not completely sure that Chrissy is actually straight, but since she herself does not seem aware of that, he decides to be uncharacteristically tactful and keeps his fucking mouth shut.

"Well, maybe you can…I don't know…desensitize yourself?" Chrissy suggests. She carefully tightens up her ponytail as they walk into the water holding hands. If they are going to approach them as a couple trying to make friends with another couple, they will need to maintain even more than the usual level of closeness - especially if Billy can’t manage his jealousy, though she’s too nice to say that out loud.

He grunts, noting that Steve has now noticed them. With great feeling, he says "God, I hope not."

He doesn’t really mind Chrissy laughing at his expense, but he makes a good show of it with a fierce scowl - which of course, only makes her laugh more.

The couple ahead of them looks over their shoulders as he and Chrissy approach, whispering to each other for a moment but get louder and louder as they get closer, until they’re only a few yards away from them as the girl shouts “No! You take that back, you cretin!” right in Steve’s face. "It's Barracuda, it's so obviously Barracuda!"

The bottle of rum drifting away in the water as they shout at each other about…music?

“I'm right, just admit that I’m right once and for all!" he counters. "You know it's Kashmir!"

Robin starts tickling him ruthlessly, making Steve howl, chanting "Barracuda, Barracuda!"

And then Steve gives a shout as he suddenly bursts from the water, standing at his full height, looking so absolutely fucking magnificent with water cascading down his chest and flanks that Billy shrinks down into the quarry to hide the chub he’s sporting.

Steve grabs Robin, lifting her over his fucking head - now is not a good time to start leaking in your short, Hargrove - and while she screams “No, Steve, no!”, drops her right into the water.

Billy whistles. “You’ll be in the dog house for that one, Harrington.”

He looks genuinely puzzled by that assessment. “Huh? What d’you mean?”

Christ, this guy used to be king of the ladykillers? Does he know anything about women?

But Robin comes up laughing, swatting a huge wave of water at him and she shakes her hair from her eyes. “Asshole,” she cackles. “Being wrong doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole!”

“Why is he wrong?” Chrissy asks curiously.

“I’m not,” Steve says smugly, ignoring Robin’s scowl.

"Okay, so what are you so right about?" Billy questions, brow raised and cocky like an asshole. Chrissy smothers a giggle. His posturing and strutting, when you can see through it the way she can, is absolutely adorable.

"Kashmir obviously has the sexiest opening riff in music history," Steve says, with the complete seriousness of someone who both believes this and is intensely passionate about that belief.

Robin, just as passionate and just as certain with her righteousness, growls “It’s BARRACUDA.”

Oh, these two really are a pair of absolute fucking GEEKS.

“You’re…both wrong,” Billy says slowly, tentatively. He doesn’t quite know how to do this whole ‘friendship’ thing with Steve - the other boy never reacts the way he’s expecting and it always leaves Billy with an extra layer of tension to their interactions even beyond the giant boner he sports for him. “Harrington is slightly less wrong, but still wrong.”

Robin, to his further surprise, looks absolutely delighted, standing behind Steve and shaking his shoulders slightly. “Ooooh, a challenger,” she murmurs in that husky, teasing little purr of a voice she has and Jesus fucking Christ, can this girl stop climbing all over him like a goddamn jungle gym? “That’s bold, Mister Hargrove. Let’s hear your defense.”

Why is he getting the feeling that Buckley is teasing him every bit as much as she’s teasing her boyfriend? Apparently neither of them are going to respond to anything the way he expects. “Harrington has the right band, but the wrong song,” he finally says, after a narrow-eyed assessment at the pair of them. “Led Zeppelin is definitely on the money - sexiest of all time, hands down - but you’re really looking for Whole Lotta Love.”

Their expressions both suggest that they are considering this argument with the seriousness of a Harvard Law student studying the Constitution and actually start having a full-on debate with each other like the real fucking nerds they are-

“You are so cute with each other!” Chrissy coos at them, looking enarmored with the lovey-dovey attitude. “Did you guys just start dating?”

Steve and Robin glance at each other, hold eye contact for just a few brief seconds. And then both immediately start laughing. Brushing tears from her eyes, Robin says “Oh, no, no - we aren’t dating.”

Steve smirks and Billy tries really, really hard not to find that sexy. “Yeah, that wouldn’t work out.”

Like a flash of lightning has struck him, Billy suddenly realizes that he actually recognizes this Buckley girl - she looks different right now with her hair pinned up and wearing nothing but that striped bikini, but yeah. Yeah, he’s seen her before. This is the girl who works with Steve at the mall.

Billy’s eyes dart over to her, just because he wants to be sure, completely sure.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

This is the girl with tits on her shoes.  

Billy would’ve put every penny on the two of them batting for opposite teams after meeting her and it’s like a whole cascade of thoughts follow that one single realization, like: Steve knows.

Steve knows about Robin.

He’s seen him with Max and that other girl - Eleanor? Elizabeth? - at the Hawkins Pool. Horsing around. Letting them and the boys use him like a fucking jungle gym. Just like Robin.

The two younger girls flirt with him (Max for sure has a little childhood crush on him) and they make eyes at him - nothing Billy finds too concerning, all things considered. They’re probably too young to even quite understand that they’re doing it and also like… yeah, I get it. Same.  

But Steve does not react to them doing this, which is the main reason Billy has elected to ignore it and leave the whole situation alone even when it’s happening right in front of him. They’re just kids figuring shit out and there’s no harm in them making eyes at him as long as they don’t try anything else with him and Steve acts like a responsible fucking adult about it. And Billy has to admit that he does.

He doesn't flirt, but he does tease, exactly the same as he teases Henderson. Steve lets them climb on him and jump on his back and shit, but Steve’s hands always stay at their arms or their rib cages or the outside of their legs, never anywhere close to the tits, not anywhere near the ass or the inner thigh/crotch area. They’re underage girls and Billy has silently acknowledged that he keeps the ‘no touching’ zone to very appropriate levels.

But Robin is given the exact same consideration, despite being only a year younger than him and, he knows, very attractive for a girl. Now that he’s seen it, Billy realizes that he treats them the same way he treats Robin. Which means that he already knows.

Steve is fully aware of who Robin is and treats her accordingly - like a playmate, rather than his next potential partner.

Fuck, what is this feeling? Billy thinks it might be...hope.