#then when I get peppy's new head the family will be all here and I will NOT! buy new shit until they are done.

[shadowmoses]

oh I forgot to take unboxing pics but. look at her. my first not-secondhand bjd and i'm afraid i've been spoiled by her because she is just the cutest thing I have ever laid eyes on........!!

#im just sad she came back up for sale too late for me to get her faceup started its much too cold in here but also. #more time for my indecisive ass.............. #bjd #legit bjd #dream valley #dream valley olivia #my only thing is she's just a little bit smaller than I thought she would be but I haven't been collecting for very long #so I wasn't sure what size she would be #I think it doesnt help that peppy is a fuckijg UNIT of a doll #and so is my wife's resinsoul #but it makes her look n feel sooo delicate and dreamy....... I feel like I have a plant doll in my house now. peace n love #then when I get peppy's new head the family will be all here and I will NOT! buy new shit until they are done. #and I mean full faceup wig outfits. the whole nine yards. might even get shoes. #doll -- #doll nudity /- #anyway now I am back to not buying anything j don't need this month to feel better about making such a big purchase. byeeee (fades away)

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter six.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: Day 121 - Also known as the day you officially leave the cadets and join the Scouts.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Eventual Romance, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Nonbinary Hange Zoe, Touch Starved Idiots

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER SIX.

“Are you ready to head out?”

A perky voice breaks you from your fixated attempt at dragging the remaining pesky leather straps up your left thigh. You’d been rearranging your uniform for what feels like hours — taking it off, putting it back on, staring at your wavering reflection in a bucket of fresh water in the barracks to see if maybe you look out of place.

You certainly feel like you are, as the cadet that joined for three-something weeks only to disappear, plucked up by the Scouts at a moment's notice. An anomaly.

What you're wearing isn’t your old uniform, not exactly — that one’s cut up, bloodied and destroyed in a pile of ashes with all the other discarded jackets and trousers — so you’ll have to get used to the one they’ve given you.

At least the Wings of Freedom reside once more between your shoulder blades.

(A gift from Commander Erwin, who could not attend this momentous departure from the training camps to the real deal.)

“Hey, Petra,” you call back to her, dropping a boot onto the wooden floor. She watches you with budding excitement. “Are we leaving now?”

“Just about!” she exclaims. “Eld is finalizing supplies, but we’re ready when you are.”

“Great.” You hold both arms out as you walk to the doorway. “So?”

It takes her a minute, but her eyes finally connect with the white and blue emblem. “Oh, finally, you got your jacket back!”

“Erwin apparently sent a new one over with Hange,” you tell her as you follow her leisurely pace towards the front of the cadet training camp.

“Are you feeling good about this?”

“About coming back to the Scouts?” you ask. She nods in confirmation. “I’m a little nervous but yeah, I feel good.”

“Don’t be nervous. We’re like a little family.” Petra pauses, making a face at the sight in the near distance: a man with dark hair waves his hand beside worn wooden wagon, where several people and horses wait their departure. “...a bit of a weird family but a family nonetheless.”

“Oi! Is that her?” the man shouts across the way, standing on his toes to wave harder — like Petra doesn’t see him.

“Yep!” Petra calls, murmuring low to add, “That’s Gunther Schultz. You always kicked his ass in spars. He's never not been bitter about it.” She chirps again to him in her sweet, peppy voice. “It’s her!”

“A-ha! Alright, awesome!” Gunther replies, dropping his hands to his hips.

From here you can see the silhouette of a tall person with a high ponytail sitting at a spot at the head of the wagon, body facing you — Hange. On their left sits a man on a horse with a mop of dirty blond hair — probably Moblit — holding two additional reigns. A smaller, black-haired person sits to the right edge of the wagon with his arms stretched along the back, his one leg folded over the other. You immediately recognize that it's Captain Levi.

At the mouth of the wagon, two other people await your arrival. Petra gives you the quiet catch-up as you walk together: the man with long blonde hair is Eld Jinn, the squad’s second-in-command (she’s quick to divulge that you pull rank, in technicality) and last is the disinterested looking individual with curly hair and an undercut — Oluo Bozado, a skilled asset to the squad who won’t hesitate to brag about his high titan kill count at any chance he gets.

So this was it.

These were the people you spent your life with.

“She doesn’t look injured,” greets Oluo as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Memory loss doesn’t look like anything, Oluo,” Gunther hisses, before perking up at your arrival. “Hey, Lieutenant. How’s it going?”

“Fine, I think,” you greet pleasantly enough, reaching to shake his outstretched hand. “Thanks for letting me come back.”

“The decision was unanimous,” Eld tells you, hopping into the wagon. He spins on a heel to help Petra up first, and she takes her spot across from Captain Levi. Then he holds his hand out to you, smile vacant but there for comradery’s sake.

You accept his help, pulling up to the wagon to sit beside Petra. Gunther rounds the cart to take the right-hand side horse. From your peripheral, you can feel Levi and Hange watching your interactions with the remainder of the team.

“That’s good to hear," you reply. "Petra went through the roll call, but if you wanna introduce yourselves…”

“We heard you remembered Moblit on sight,” Oluo interrupts gruffly, hopping into the wagon once Eld is settled at the head of the group with his hands on the reins. He plops beside Levi, taking up a corner seat.

“Ha, she totally did,” Hange beams with a grin, and you can see Moblit sigh under his breath. “It was kind of crazy to witness in person. She remembered some things with me, too.”

"She did?" Petra asks, awed.

Eld whistles sharply, and the wagon jerks.

You’re leaving.

Sharply you turn to watch the camp grow smaller, its gates closing shut once the Scouts are out of range.

(You’re actually doing this.)

You blink away from it to look ahead. Immediately your eyes connect with Levi's as he stares directly at you.

Your face grows hot at the unspoken energy settling at your boots.

Hange continues, addressing the group. “Our hypothesis will really come into play once we reach the old headquarters. Our objective is to regroup, train with James so she can refamiliarize herself with Commander Erwin’s strategy before the next expedition. Once we're certain she's caught up, then we'll plan to make our way towards the northeast quadrant of Wall Maria. We've yet to explore that part of the walls, and we're certain we can capture new titans for experiments."

"Capturing more?" Petra asks with the smallest of squeaks. "The last two weren't enough?"

"Yes, but that's only part two of the overall plan. Right now, we're focused on rehabilitation James.” They fix their glasses between a pinched thumb and index finger. “The more we spend time with her, the better her memory will get. The better her memory gets, the easier our expeditions will become.”

“As if I want her to remember all the damn dirt she used to have on me,” sours Gunther, laced with a hint of amusement as he rides alongside the cart.

You look over at him, running your tongue against the seam of your lips. “What? Like when I used to kick your ass all the time?”

Gunther gasps, causing Oluo to break out into a surprised laugh.

“Petra told you about that!” Gunther protests.

You shrug a casual shoulder. “Did she?”

You blink back to Levi, who has his head bowed.

(You swear you see the corner of his lip lifted.)

“Oh — c’mon, you didn’t give her any shit about the rest of them? Petra!”

“What?! It felt like pertinent information,” Petra argues back with a giggle. “She just spent a couple of weeks fighting all of the new hopefuls.”

“And how’d that go?” Oluo asks, shifting his weight in his seat to mirror Levi’s casual body language in the cart — he reaches back, draping his arms over the edge of the wagon.

“Yeah, how did you do with combat training, James?” Eld Jinn asks from the front perch.

You shrug. “Well enough, why?”

The blonde snorts, turning his chin over his shoulder. “Because I’d kill to see if you can still go toe-to-toe with the Captain like you used to.”

“Eld,” Petra warns under her breath.

“What?” he squawks.

One by one, you see the remaining pairs of eyes in the cart turn to the conversation to focus on what may come next. Petra’s ginger hair bobs when she leans forward to chastise him.

“That’s inappropriate to request,” Petra argues.

“How’s it inappropriate?” Eld retorts, raising an elbow as he makes the horses turn out onto a main dirt road. “That’s all they did back in the day was fight. It’s been months!” 

“We’re not about to haze her.” 

“Why not?”

“I could.”

Hange’s eyebrows fly up their forehead, transparent in surprise at the sound of Levi finally speaking up since the wagon’s departure from camp.

You turn your chin to look his way. The captain’s brow raises a tick as his eyes connect with yours.

The wagon goes silent. The only sounds surrounding the Special Ops squad are grunts of horses and the light dips of the wheels against rogue pebbles in the dirt road.

Unable to look away from Levi, a slow smile creeps up your lips. “Is that something we used to do?”

“All the time,” Gunther confirms to the side of the cart while Petra shushes him.

“He’s right,” Levi agrees. “We did.”

Warm spreads through your chest and makes your heart soar. Levi not shutting down Eld’s idea is… good. Great, even. It’s a step in the right direction — right?

Levi said he wouldn’t spell things out for you, but he didn’t discourage others doing it for him. A loophole. You can’t help but widen your smile.

“I’ve spent so much time fighting kids who don’t even know how to hold a proper fist,” you tell him, dropping your hands into your lap to squeeze them together. “Captain: would you be interested, then, to spar when we reach the castle? Be my first real fight.”

A first, even when it’s anything but.

Levi keeps a neutral expression in front of your anticipated comrades.

All eyes shift in tandem from your face to the captain.

“Couldn’t hurt to welcome you properly,” he replies, legs still crossed and arms draped, chest straps on display under his stretched jacket.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Gunther breathes under his breath with a grin. “The Special Ops are back.”

.

.

.

.

The trek to the castle takes a few hours, but you spend it occupied enough. Between Gunther and Oluo’s constant questions (What was the next group of cadets like? How does memory loss feel? Do you remember when we—?) and Petra’s combative defensiveness to keep you protected from overexertion, the wagon ride back is promising.

Exciting.

Your blood is buzzing with the very real possibility of fighting Levi Ackerman once the group is settled at headquarters.

Anxiety should be hitting you once you reach the familiar sight of the run-down castle, but all you can feel is exhilaration. Anticipation. Like you finally have a worthy opponent who may give little mercy despite your situation.

Hopping off the wagon without the help of Oluo’s hand, you shrug off your Scout jacket and hand it to him to hold instead. He makes a disappointed noise in the back of his throat, tossing the item of clothing over his shoulder.

Levi hops out without help, light on his feet and graceful as he steps around the wagon to walk with you.

“We doing this right now?” he asks, tone bored, offering a sidelong glance to you.

“Absolutely.”

“Are you sure about sparring so soon?” he asks, lower this time.

(If you didn’t know any better, then you would believe his question hits a note of concerned.)

“What, are you afraid I’m going to beat your ass in front of the squad?”

“No,” he answers, matter of fact. “The opposite.”

Eld whistles low when you turn on a heel, walking backwards to grin at Levi. Levi doesn’t return the same excitement nor does he remove his jacket or cravat, but he doesn’t let you out of his sight.

He stalks you to a clearing right in front of the castle, a lopsided circle patch of dirt and weeds.

“Don’t cream your pants,” Levi crudely quips about your growing smile, his fists rising to rest in a defensive stance at his face. “I don't plan to go easy on you.”

“Oh fuck off,” you reply with equal-parts unprofessionalism, prepping your own fists to your face as your right boot shifting, forming the start of a semi-circle in the dirt. “If you did, I’d be mad at you.”

"Hmm."

Your other boot follows, stalking to find your opening.

Where you can strike.

“You got this, James!” Petra chirps from the sidelines where the Special Operations squad awaits, breath baited and muscles tense.

You do.

You’ll take him and show everyone you’re only just a couple steps behind.

You send a sharp right punch to see where it can land, but Levi juts his chin back at a supernatural speed to avoid it.

He could take a counterstrike, but he holds back.

(He’s lying. He’s going easy on you.)

Petra gasps from the sidelines when you throw a combination of a jab and left hook, but Levi ducks and recovers fast. He throws a fist at your gut, but you manage to slide away before his fist can land. There is a gleam of acknowledgement in his eye as you glide past one another. He throws another, but you lean back and avoid the blow.

It’s a dance choreographed and rehearsed so many times that your brain must have lost count, but your body holds its memory in a vice grip.

In truth, you know — know exactly where he’s going to step next, or the exact direction he favors to dip, and the knowledge delights you. Excites you, even, that this feels so…

Natural.

Like you’ve dissected Levi Ackerman until his movements are your own, mirrored and fluid.

Except you get so caught up in the revelation that he manages to land a sharp jab to your arm. You abruptly dip from the painful hit, teeth grit, but you’re light on your feet and quickly avoid additional attacks. You both strike, arms entangling and locking, to the point where you're mere centimeters from the other's face.

“C’mon, James,” he growls under his breath, and you can’t help but smile.

"Banking on an easy win?" you quip, pushing him away with force and ducking a counterattack.

"This isn't a challenge," he assures, stepping around the invisible circle for a reset.

"You sure?" you ask, catching your breath. Your hands flex before curling back into fists. "Pretty sure I see sweat."

"Little shit." He huffs. “If you say so.”

He strikes, but you counter with precision and manage an uppercut straight to his jaw. Levi’s head snaps back, boots faltering on the ground for a brief second.

You feel it: the whites of your eyes alight with pride.

The hit landed.

You can keep up with Captain Levi.

“I do say so,” you coo belatedly, and Levi rubs his jaw.

“Huh,” he hums. “Lucky shot.”

“Are you giving up that ea— shit!”

If he was holding back earlier, then he isn’t doing so now. Levi comes at you with a flurry of limbs, forcing you to expend all your energy to block his advancements. He is lightning fast, focused on you and you alone, and punches with the intent to land.

To win.

Less cocky than before, you dodge his incoming punches and duck at his swings, holding him back but not enough to land hits of your own.

Shit.

He’s going to win.

If you just keep his arms at bay and—

Wait.

From the corner of your eye, you see it: the smirk on his face when he knows he has you wide open at the legs, and when your mouth opens to gasp, he switches technique and sweeps your legs out from under you.

Suddenly you lose balance and become airborne.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to go up there?”

Right in front of your eyes, the sun turns black. 

Your back connects with the ground, and it’s as though you’re transported to another world: one that’s dark, devoid of the warmth of the sun.

Overhead you see Levi smirking down at you, but his Scout uniform is nowhere to be found. He greets you with a billowing white shirt cinched at his torso in a burnt orange vest, hair just as floppy but eyes less vacant.

They’re… warm. Amused.

The lines of his war-worn face are all but gone. His eyes still have dark circles, but they’re less prominent. If you didn’t know any better, then you’d call it a near-youthful glow.

(As much as one can get from being a child of the Underground.)

“Gonna stay down there forever?” he asks you, his translucent hand leaving his side to hold a lifeline for you to take.

All it takes is for your hands to connect for the world to shift, transform, and everything echoes.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to go up there?”

“Up there?” It’s Levi’s voice. 

He sits in the dirt beside you, dropping unceremoniously to your side with a grunt of discomfort. You're lying in the dirt, wearing an unassuming maroon long-sleeved shirt and dark trousers. You sit up to meet him, stretching your legs out to cross them at the ankles. Without a rhythm, your boots sway. 

“You’re worried about going up there?” Levi adds.

“Who isn’t?” you ask him, dropping your chin to your shoulder as you regard him from the side. Scents of damp Earth and leaking cobblestone invade your nostrils. “You can’t really want to spend the rest of your life down here, right?”

"It's a pipe dream, James."

"So? Dream with me for a second."

"You're starting to sound like Isa."

"Is that such a bad thing?" you inquiry. "She wants a chance on the surface as much as the rest of us. Hell, she's been to the staircase. That's further than I've ever gotten."

“They’ll call us freaks,” he bluntly tells you, hooking his skinny wrist between the loop of his thumb and index finger when he drags his knees to his chest. “I’m not exactly keen on going.”

“But we’d eat a lot of amazing food and get a lot of sun — maybe even a tan.” You gasp childishly, leaning in to bump his shoulder with yours. Levi stays put, immobilized by your words. “Imagine us with sunburn? How crazy would that be?”

“So your dream... is to become a tomato?” he flatly asks.

You grin, holding off on a laugh until you can’t stand it. It starts breathy and low so as not to alert the chatter in the cobblestone house behind you, but it bubbles and breaks the seal to a full-blown giggle.

Levi shakes his head, the floppy hair in his face following a delayed second.

“Fucking ridiculous.”

You grin towards him. “What?”

“You. You’re fucking ridiculous,” he interrupts, but something miraculous happens:

His eyes crinkle. His lips curve to a smile.

Suddenly the dream of the sun doesn’t feel as beautiful when you’re looking at him.

“James.”

Levi Ackerman dissolves at your side, and you feel weightless all over again.

Darkness; you want to reach towards the sunlight, but a billowing cloud rushes towards you and knocks you back to the dirt once again.

You cough at the dust clouds around your head, disoriented and confused, until a nonchalant boot digs into your side.

“Get up.”

“But I was just up,” you mumble in protest.

“No, you weren’t.”

When you blink up, you’re met again with the sight of Levi hovering over you. He still wears the same loose white shirt and vest, legs covered in dark trousers and boots, but he looks… even younger than before.

Whereas he could pass as a young adult in his early twenties just a short few minutes ago, he now looks as youthful as a teenager.

You grit your teeth, counting down the seconds. “Actually, I kinda dig it down here.”

“Seriously—?”

You get an idea. A bad one, but an idea nonetheless.

The question that trails in disbelief earns you enough time to reset your approach to fighting him, your hand quick to wrap around his ankle. Pulling as hard as you possibly can, you use your core and sweep his leg so that Ackerman goes airborne. 

When his body hits the ground in a nasty thud, you hurry to scramble over him. The bone of your forearm presses into the boy’s neck, causing Levi to grunt with discomfort.

You grin above him as he grimaces.

“Dirty trick,” he spits, but he doesn’t fight it.

In fact, he doesn’t try to escape at all.

You shrug a shoulder, pressing harder onto his windpipe. He sputters, but his face remains just as neutral as ever. 

“What’s got you so pissy today?”

“What?” Levi asks from beneath you. His hands curl around your elbow and fist, but he doesn’t push your forearm away just yet.

“You’re moody.” The correction has you laughing gently under your breath, and the sight beneath you? It’s one to behold. 

His dark hair frames his face messily, splayed across dirt and gravel. His teeth continue to grind, growl bubbling in his chest, but when he decides to push against your arm, all you do is push harder into his throat. He coughs with a curse.

“I’m — fuck — not.”

“Are too.”

He narrows his eyes. “And I’m letting you win.”

“Are not.”

“Wanna bet?”

Easing up on his windpipe, you crawl off of him and extend a hand to help pull him up to a seated position. Levi begrudgingly takes it, hoisting himself up on the flat of his palm. He angles closer to you, voice low with a feigned warning.

“Thought we didn’t do draws,” he states.

Your forehead drops to his shoulder, lost in a belly laugh when all you want to say is—

“James!”

When you come back to the world, the sun is blocked by a face. Levi barks your name with an intensity that frightens you out of your dreams of the Underground and into the reality of the old headquarters.

Hange hovers over his shoulder. Their glasses are pushed into their hairline where concern etches over every line of their curious face. The uncertain murmurs of the rest of the squad are somewhere behind your head where they observe from a distance.

"Are you alright?" Levi asks with less fervor.

“I’m fine,” you breathe, rolling your neck to look up at Hange.

“Are you? Because you disappeared on us for a second, kid,” Hange tells you, but something squeezes your arm to the point of hurting.

You blink down to the source — Levi white-knuckles a hand around your forearm, holding it steady to the ground. When you meet his eyes once more, he lets go like your body is the temperature of a steaming titan.

"We're not doing that again," he decides for the both of you.

"Wait."

Sitting up on your forearms, the warmth of the sun brings unbridled joy back into your stomach.

"We have to."

"Excuse me?" Levi snaps, eyes narrowing for a split second until it hits — his expression releases built-up tension. "...did you...?"

At first you can only grin, delirious and overjoyed. "...dream of becoming a tomato, one day?"

His face slacks with dumbfounded surprise.

"Is that an inside joke?" Hange whispers in a hiss over his head. "Is tomato code for something?"

"In a way," you reply, but your attention isn't on Hange. You're too busy beaming over at a crouching Levi, who looks at you in way you've never seen before.

He's warworn and childlike, an oxymoron of your own muddled mind, but he knows.

You know he knows, too.

Because you might have finally figured out a plan to — quite literally — knock some sense into you.

Author's Note: Gosh, your theories have been so fun to read! And we only get brief moments with the Scouts, so I sort of took some liberties with their personalities. Your likes, comments, & reblogs have been wonderful! My inbox is open anytime xo

tag list: @lazylizzy3

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #snk #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #wip series #aot #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #amywritesthings #fic: silver underground. #silver underground

[nerosdayinanime]

seijatachi played and i dipped my toes back into the still unnamed kny tokyo ghoul au

smthn smthn fox trio retired their fox masks since theyre pretty high-profile from before they moved to the 19th ward, sabito & makomo switched to rabbit masks (sabito's white w red eyes, makomo's gray with closed eyes & smile) & giyuu switched to a black cat mask with yellow eyes. all three have fur cape kinda things attached to the back of the masks to hide their hair (sabito did it originally bc his pink hair is a dead giveaway) their old fox masks are associated with a small gang of ghouls bc sakonji made them all their masks himself, at first they started out as just "Fox - [number]" but the numbers slowly kept climbing and their masks started getting custom designs so they started naming em proper, makomo's "Fox - Comedy", giyuu's "Fox - Tragedy" & sabito's "Fox - Reaper"

when tanjiro & nezuko joined sakonji made them fox masks bc theyre part of the family too :) but they still get different masks for actual use bc the CCG is very weary of the fox ghoul group, especially if new ones popped up

i was gonna put it in the tags but its too long lol

first scene i got down goes like: nezuko loses herself to hunger a little and starts running towards smthn that smells good, tanjiro following her bc he doesnt want her to get hurt, they find genya crouched over his kill and she starts having a breakdown, genya politely offers a bite before kaigaku comes in and starts kicking him around for hunting in 'his territory', giyuu arrives and beats kaigaku's ass before telling him to fuck off, giyuu suddenly realizes tanjiro's human & nezuko's not a full ghoul and walks closer questioningly, tanjiro steps in front of her protectively and asks him to stop approaching her, giyuu sits down placatingly & genya realizes tanjiro's human and gets a bit nervous watching them, nezuko still having her breakdown denying that shes a ghoul, giyuu "youre not a ghoul.. youre not human either- youre something else entirely.", genya pipes up "im not a normal ghoul either- you're not alone.", they chat a bit and genya tentatively asks if theyd not… out genya as a ghoul… tanjiro shakes his head "of course not- you've been nothing but polite to us!", giyuu escorts them to their cafe and tries to get nezuko to understand what being any part ghoul is like without scaring her, sakonji takes over when they get there, sabito comes in from his rounds pissed off about something and slaps his mask on a table ranting about it before he notices There Are Kids Here and hes being Scary, at first hes shocked abt tanjiro and shifts his eyes back to white but then he notices nezuko "woah… how'd that happen?" giyuu "i wasnt going to ask about that yet." sabito "ah, sorry. you can… keep on.." and goes back to quietly arranging his shit

in front of people sabito keeps up a kind/peppy personality but he very easily dips into being intimidating when hes mad, people in the cafe usually only see it when assholes start harrassing makomo or other female workers/diners and he takes them outside- its also about the only time people will see giyuu proper Scowl instead of his usual blank/airy look. when nezuko joins as a server (with tanjiro) people are a little less likely to yell in the proximity of a 14 year old girl, but if they do sabito tries to not be as outwardly scary around her and adopts a frankly even more sinister look where hes passive-aggressively smiling with blatant murder in his eyes, tanjiro usually guides her to the other end of the cafe when he starts looking at people like that,,,,

#sabito #kny sabito #giyuu #makomo #kny au #kny tokyo ghoul au #foxsquad posting #neros art tag #sabito's the one with the most spotlight of the three in both high & low profile just because he takes it upon himself to be the 'cleanup #crew' and take care of anything/one that would be following their trail or anything like that #makomo's more the actual group leader though- they fell for her bubbly playful/childlike persona when shes actually the most dangerous #also genya's a weird ghoul but i havent exactly thought of how. his eyes turn black and yellow instead of red #and like maybe if he cannibalizes he temporarily gains the ability of the ghoul's kagune? like without turning into a kakuja #dunno

[loadednachosao3]

I keep forgetting I can just make unhinged rambling tumblr posts on my ideas instead of necessarily immediately writing them all so here is What If Nacho Was a Salamanca and Lalo Was a Varga: The Lacho AU in text post form

first we gotta think about what changes there'd be to their personalities based on their upbringings. then what's the same? nature vs. nurture. both are important aspects of people's identities.

Nacho Salamanca

Ignacio Salamanca is born in the 70s, the first new Salamanca after a long dry spell. because of this, his birth is a celebratory event, and he's summarily spoiled as the first baby of the generation by Hector and the others.

(Tuco is born a few months later, and still has a bug up his ass about getting the middle child treatment. stupid doe-eyed cousin.)

being brought up in that environment, I feel, would foster a lot of nastiness in Nacho. in canon, we see that his father is basically his "morality pet," the one who makes him regret joining the cartel, but what about without that? think of s1 Nacho. scary, ruthless, threatening violence easily. can you imagine that sort of personality raised as a Salamanca?

of course, he wouldn't be a Tuco. in fact, he'd still be the only person capable of calming Tuco down (they've got a great relationship apart from Tuco's jealousy). Nacho isn't the type to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation.

he is, however, the type who will methodically stalk you until he knows your routines, then kidnap you and skin you inch by inch in front of your lover if you cross him.

Nacho is a calm kind of insane. personable, affable, smug and sarcastic in equal measures. he won't always get his revenge right away, but he'll remember what you did and make sure you pay for it.

and he's, like the rest, fiercely loyal to his family. you cross them? you're dead in the most painful way possible. he'll do it with a smirk, too.

Lalo Varga

Eduardo Varga is born to a simple family a little over a decade before the Salamancas welcome Nacho into their lives. his mother passes early on in his life, but he has her eyes and her laugh and her cooking skills that Manuel could never quite master.

being raised by Manuel would not fix Lalo entirely, I think, but it would make him markedly better. a friendly, jocular, caring man who loves his single father more than the world. you know how he looks at Hector in canon, like the sun shines out of his ass? that's how he looks at Manuel now.

for years, he works happily with his father at the shop. until one day when he's re-upholstering some seats and finds a big brick of drugs... and, well, money has been tight for so long.

it isn't long before the Salamancas find out someone they don't know is peddling their drugs -- in THEIR territory, no less (Lalo's not stupid, but he's definitely not wise to the ways of the game at first). not kicking up any money to the supplier, not respecting the Salamancas enough to meet them properly.

The Meet-Cute

rather than living in Mexico like Lalo, I think it'd be interesting if Nacho lived in ABQ with Tuco. he's smart, so he's the one they task with finding the stray little dealer.

Lalo doesn't cover his tracks nearly well enough, so Nacho does. has some burly men throw a bag over Lalo's head and bring him to the Salamancas.

then he's on trial in a kangaroo court, fighting for his life. he doesn't beg or plead or cry. he's charismatic, charming, a talker. apologizes and pays respects and explains his situation, but never weeps for mercy like some wretched, pathetic little thing.

Nacho likes that.

so it's Nacho who talks down his less forgiving primo and tio. death sentence to probation: Lalo sells for them, properly, for a while, and they get to decide if he stays in the business or if he and his father get capped.

and what can Lalo do but obey?

The Conclusion

I just think it'd be hot okay. imagine Nacho as the lowkey unhinged one and Lalo as the peppy, cute daddy's boy. making each other worse slowly in different ways as Lalo gives Nacho the dokis and Nacho gives Lalo a newfound appreciation for hurting people who cross you and your family.

thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#fic tag #BCS #Better Call Saul #Nacho Varga #Lalo Salamanca #lacho #au ideas #roleswap

[mokios-poems-and-stars]

hey sillies so i have a spidersona/oc guy (he's also silly dw) his name is cameron callister and i forgot i wrote one of his canon events like a month ago so here :3

Cameron Calister was born on a rainy day with periods of hail. His mother was nearly knocked out from a baseball sized pellet. His father was nowhere to be found. He was an average child, toys and tantrums plaguing most of his younger years. His mom died.

Cameron isn't sure when she died. She was missing for a while. The gravestone simply put the date she was reported missing. He remembers standing over her grave, spider suit under his thick Winter jacket. She never knew. She died before the Cobalt Spider was alive.

He's been swinging(and running) the streets of New York for about a week. The civilians kind of tolerate him, some even let him walk a dog or two. Cobalt, Cameron's alter ego, was a bit more peppy. Smarter and more sharp-tongued, he was the new hero in town.

It was a cold Tuesday evening. There were no storm clouds in sight and everyone was wearing a black puffer. Cobalt was wearing a pair of cargos over his dark blue suit. He had just taken his dose so his webs were in top shape.

He didn't need to use his webs tonight. There wasn't enough criminals for Cobalt to break a sweat over. So, somehow, he was stuck on dog-walking duty. She was a Great Dane named Princess. She smelled of cigarettes and Cheerios.

The webbed vigilante was avoiding the melting patches of snow. More accurately, he was sliding through them while Princess barked angrily. Cobalt giggled before continuing on his walk. He heard a ding from his cargo pockets before he pulled out his phone. His gloves were specially designed to be compatible with touch-screens.

It was his cousin. "hey!!! you busy? i bought fruit roll-ups‼️‼️"

Cobalt, Cameron now since family was involved, bit his lip. He stopped where he was, Princess whining in annoyance. He shifted from the balls of his feet, eyes squinting as he tried to figure out what to reply with.

"can't. lotta stuff to do. sorry, quincy :("

Cameron shook his head with guilt, knowing Quincy never had much free time. He was only ten years old and barely had a life to live. Cameron only got to see him every month or so. He nearly zoned out before Princess started dragging him by her leash.

Cobalt quickly kept walking, ignoring the next ding that came from his phone. And the next. And the next. It wasn't like it was on purpose. It was more like he zoned out. For a while. He's not sure how many dings went off before the gunshots did as well.

Gunshots. One after the other. And then the screeching sound of rubber tires on cracked asphalt. Cameron heard all of this. Two miles away and it felt as if he was right at the scene.

And eventually he was. Not in that stupid spider suit anymore. He was wearing a torn up tang top and his cargo pants. He pushed through the bitter wind chill to get to his bleeding cousin. There were multiple shots fired. And it seems like they didn't miss a single one.

His skin was cold and pale. His lips were tinted blue and his shirt was stained red. There was no pulse. Obviously. But Cameron kept checking. He nearly dug his two fingers into Quincy's neck before he finally gave up.

He fell to his knees, melted snow seeping through his cheap pants. He thinks there were tears rolling down his face. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything. Except for the fact that his cousin was completely dead. There was no chance or miracle to save him.

No Cobalt or God could save this boy. And Cameron knew.

He failed to save the one person who knew who he was inside. The only who gave two fucks about him.

Two miles. 10,560 feet. 126,720 inches.

That was all it took. Cameron was always told life is short. But never for Quincy.

He was supposed to grow old. See his hair gray and feel his joints weaken.

Not like this. Not like this. Not like this.

It can't be like this.

hope ygs enjoyed that?? idk man but i'll probably write more of him soon

(also here's an amazing drawing of cammy my great friend multi-purpose-paperclip made go give them some love please)

#spidersona #spiderman #spiderverse #writing #canon event #miguel is so tired of cam #also kai is like his best bud #they are the besties #cam loves cats #bc he is one #so silly #cameron calister my beloved #angst #backstory #lore #pls go support my friend multi

[karebear4499]

You Are My Sunshine Chapter 1

Summary: Poppy and Branch are entrusted with the care of an orphan troll who was separated from her family in a storm.

Also on FF.net.

...

“Branch, it still amazes me how much space you’ve got in here.”

The other trolls who were within earshot nodded in agreement at their queen's words. By some miracle, there was enough room in Branch's bunker to cram in every citizen of TrollsTopia. As bad as the storm was raging outside, they needed as much protection as they could get.

“Okay, everybody,” Poppy continued, addressing the crowd, “Hopefully, it won’t be too long before this storm settles down, but until it does, we’ll all be perfectly safe in here. Right, Branch?”

Branch took note of the nervous looks on some of the younger trolls’ faces as he replied. “Of course. There’s no need to worry about a thing. Remember, ‘no troll left behind!’” He raised his fist in the air as he proclaimed the troll king’s motto.

As the trolls did their best to occupy themselves—Biggie was cuddling Mr. Dinkles protectively, Cooper and Prince D were trying to engage some of the others in a dance-off, Smidge was hair-wrestling a country troll that was much bigger than her (and winning)—a new, alarming sound could suddenly be heard among everyone’s reverie.

“Mama! Mama!”

Everyone turned to try to pinpoint the source of the voice, most of the rock trolls doing so with annoyed expressions on their faces.

“Alright, let’s all make sure our children are accounted for,” Poppy’s father, King Peppy, announced.

The cries continued as the trolls glanced around at one another, Holly Darlin’ muttering, “Poor thing,” and Val Thundershock muttering, “Ugh, make it stop.”

When the source still had not made itself known, Poppy suddenly looked up at the bunker’s entrance as a horrifying realization dawned on her.

“Branch! I think that’s coming from outside!”

Before Branch even had a chance to react to Poppy’s exclamation, she was already heading towards the elevator. “Poppy, wait,” he shouted, following after her, “this storm is way too intense right now. It’s not safe to go outside yet.”

“Branch,” Poppy replied, placing her hands on his shoulders, “There’s a child out there that needs help. Like you said, ‘No troll left behind.’”

Branch heaved a defeated but understanding sigh as he pulled the lever on the elevator, much to the other trolls’ shock and concern. Even if it weren’t for his girlfriend’s caring and compassionate nature, he knew that leaving anyone alone in a storm this bad, let alone a child, wouldn’t sit right with him. Still, if Poppy insisted on leaving, he wasn’t letting her go alone.

“Don’t worry, everybody,” he announced as they ascended, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

As they disappeared from everyone else’s view, Peppy, the Snack Pack, and the TrollsTopia ambassadors all said to themselves, “Be careful, Poppy.”

…

Outside, Mother Nature appeared to be throwing everything she had at the world. The rain and winds were raging so hard, it was a miracle none of the troll pods had been blown away. And nestled away in a cave nearby, a little yellow trolling with red hair was curled up in a ball on the ground, crying out for her mother.

“Mama,” she continued to exclaim, jumping backwards when a flash of lightning shot through the sky. She desperately continued to cry out, each one louder than the last.

Lucky for her, her prayers were about to be answered.

“In there,” she heard a feminine voice say, “hang on, little one. Help is on the way!”

“Mama?” she sobbed, a tinge of hope in her voice as the vines separating the cave from the outside parted to reveal two adult trolls, one pink and one blue, gazing at her with sympathy and relief. The little trolling tried to back herself further into the cave as they approached her. “Hey, don’t be afraid,” Poppy reassured, opening her arms to the child, “we’re here to help you.” The child hesitated before slowly making her way towards the troll queen, who wasted no time in wrapping her in a tight hug. Branch joined in on their embrace and finally noticed just how bad of a state the child was in. She was shivering and soaking wet; who knew what would have happened had they not found her.

The little girl continued whimpering for her mama as Branch bundled her up in his hair, him and Poppy both shushing her soothingly. “You know where Mama is,” she asked them.

Branch looked out at the storm still brewing outside. “We’ll wait the rest of this storm out here, and then we’ll get you somewhere safe. Your mama will hopefully be there too.”

“Maybe we know her already,” Poppy wondered, “do you know what her name is, sweetie?” The little girl shook her head and mumbled a soft, “uh-uh.”

“Well, what does she look like?”

She suddenly began sobbing a bit harder as she whined a distressed, I-I dunno.”

The two adult trolls gave each other a confused glance. How could she not know what her mother looks like? Then Poppy came to a heartbreaking conclusion. She was so small, her speech was so limited, it could only mean one thing…

“Sweetie, were you just hatched today,” she asked, to which the child sniffled and nodded.

“So you’ve never seen your mama before,” added Branch, which was answered with another nod. She buried her face in his hair and continued to cry as the queen and her boyfriend looked at each other helplessly. A newborn trolling who was separated from her family and had no way of knowing or telling anyone who or where they are; it was clear that they wouldn’t be reuniting anytime soon.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be alright,” Poppy said, caressing the child’s shoulder, “I promise, I will do everything I can to help you find your mama. But until then…” She gave Branch a knowing smile as she continued…

“Branch and I will take care of you.”

Of course, Branch had expected Poppy to make such a promise, but he stifled a surprised cough at the addition of his name. He knew that the job would be no problem for her, but he definitely wasn’t qualified for something like this.

The rain outside had finally reduced a bit in intensity, so the two pop trolls deemed it safe enough to return to the bunker. On the way, Branch told Poppy how unsure he was with his ability to help with the baby.

“I’ve never been the best with kids,” he said, “you know this, Poppy.”

“Well, you seem to be doing a pretty good job so far,” Poppy retorted, noting the child still swaddled in Branch’s hair, “You’ll do fine, Branch. And hey, it’s not like you’re going to have to do it alone.” Taking his hand in hers, she added, “I know she’s in capable hands."

Once all of the trolls had filed out of the bunker, they all went to check for any serious damages to their respective regions. Branch offered to join everyone, while Poppy would stay and help get the little trolling settled in.

“Come on, Holly,” Gust Tumbleweed called out to the Country ambassador, who had gotten sidetracked gushing over the baby troll, “We gotta go make sure Country Corral is still standing.”

“Sorry,” Holly said, embarrassed, “I just love babies!” She tickled her cheek one more time before bidding a goodbye and good luck to Poppy.

“Say, ‘bye bye,’ sweetie,” Poppy said to the baby, who waved goodbye to Holly.

Once they were back in the bunker, Poppy reassured the child that while it might seem scary, she will be safe. “Hey,” she suddenly realized, “since you were just born recently, that means you don’t have a name yet, right?” The child responded with a shake of her head.

Poppy thought long and hard about what would be the perfect name for this little troll, with her pale yellow skin and bright red hair.

Rainbow? No, too colorful.

Daisy? Not colorful enough.

Chrysanthemum? She’d never learn how to spell that!

Tapping her chin in wonder, a light bulb suddenly switched on in her mind. “How about Sunshine? And we can call you Sunny for short. Do you like that name?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the baby troll nodded. “Wonderful,” Poppy said, hugging her close, “I’m sure your mama will love it, too.”

It was already nightfall by the time Branch returned. While TrollsTopia had sustained a fair deal of damage, nothing had been left irreparable. Rock Hollow had gotten the worst of it, but Val said it just made it look cooler. “Poppy, I’m back,” he announced once his elevator reached the bottom.

Upon seeing her boyfriend, Poppy shushed him and pointed at a little pile of cushions and blankets she had fashioned into a temporary bed. “Shh, she’s sleeping.” Sure enough, the baby was snoring peacefully in her little nest, a far cry from the pitiful state she had been in hours before.

“Aww, she looks like a little angel.”

Branch couldn’t help but agree, but he was still apprehensive about having a child in his care. “Hey,” Poppy assured him, squeezing his hand, “you can handle this. I know you can.”

“I sure hope you’re right, Poppy.”

…

He had been sound asleep when he heard it.

It was about three o clock in the morning; Branch was sleeping in his bed, while Poppy had crashed in a nearby armchair. Despite her being closer to little Sunshine, it was Branch who had woken up first to the sound of her fretful whimpers.

He didn’t know if it was his survivalist instincts kicking in or something beyond his own comprehension, but in a flash, he was by her side. Her eyes were shut tight, but she appeared to be reaching out for something with both hands, crying when she couldn’t obtain it.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Branch whispered, picking Sunshine up and rocking her slowly. Her whimpers slowed, but they did not cease. So he took a page out of the troll handbook, and pulled the first song he could think of out of his hair.

You are my sunshine

My only Sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You’ll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don’t take my Sunshine away

Before long, Sunshine was back to sleeping peacefully, sucking her thumb as Branch looked at her with a mix of astonishment and pride. He hadn’t expected that to work as well as it did. Maybe he didn’t have as much to worry about as he thought.

“And you said you’re not good with kids.”

Shocked at the sound of her voice, he turned to see Poppy wide awake and smiling at the sight of her boyfriend and the child in his arms.

“W-well,” he stammered, slightly embarrassed, “I guess I meant that I’m just…inexperienced.”

Poppy snickered and rolled her eyes as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Branch,” she said, “You’re a natural at this. It took me hours to get her to bed in the first place, but you calmed her down almost instantly.”

“But that’s—”

“It is absolutely the same thing,” she interrupted, “stop second-guessing yourself. I told you that you could do this.” Branch nodded at her in agreement as she continued, “Her mama’s got nothing to worry about.” They both smiled down at little Sunny as Poppy caressed her cheek with her index finger. “Everything is going to be okay, Sunny,” she whispered, “we promise.”

Sunny began to stir a bit once again, so Branch decided to repeat her lullaby, Poppy harmonizing along with him.

You are my sunshine

My only Sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You’ll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don’t take my Sunshine away

#dreamworks trolls #fanfiction #Broppy kid #kinda #feedback appreciated

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

A child I love

You spent your time with Murmur-san during the heartbreaker event. He was hoping for a non combat group, but that wasn't the case. You had found Goemon's team. At first, you were both fine watching the team, which basically took itself apart for you.

But you were concerned. Your usually positive and peppy child looked tired and more stressed than you had ever seen them before as he tried to calm down his juniors. Then you saw Murmur-san make a move. It was the wrong move to make.

It certainly increased discord with the group, but you saw that it had pushed your child too far. Goemon was about to have an evil cycle in front of his Kohai's. You quickly threw your cape over the two, covering their eyes. It was too late for you to close yours however.

The number one rule of the Gaap household. Never show your true face. It made more sense to you now as you stared at the boy in front of you. It wasn't a metaphor.

Underneath the lovely silver fur was a morphed and grotesque figure. Twisted and mauled in an unsettling way. It was honestly what you would compare to a living nightmare.

No... that couldn't be right. He was one of your babies. So full of energy and egar to try new things and meet new people. So, how could you possibly think that description matched that of the child you knew?

You tried opening your mouth, but nothing came from it. It was as if you had been silenced. You could only stare at the true face of your distressed child and do nothing. It was heartbreaking.

You couldn't move even as you knew Murmur-san had knocked your child out with his magic. You could one stare paralyzed by what you had seen. Everything soon became a blur.

You woke up in the med tent. You woke up hearing a panicked Goemon and a calm Murmur-san. You carefully got out of bed, making sure to keep your balance. Why was your baby upset? Why was Murmur being an ass and saying that he couldn't see you?

You flug the curtains open and punched the bastard in the jaw. "Leave my baby alone! Of course, he can see me, I don't care if I'm on my death bed. You don't dictate if they can or can't come in!"

Looking towards Goemon, he seemed to stiffen. He was crying and scared. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around your furry child. He squirmed and tried to push away.

That was odd he had never tried to avoid your affection before. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I shouldn't have, I didn't mean to, I-I" His hiccups sobs made you squeeze tighter.

He whined, but you held firm. "I think we need to have a little chat, dear." You proceeded to move him back towards the divider for a small sense of privacy. "I never wanted y-you to see, I just wanted them t-to stop fi-fighting." He wheezed out as you sat him on the bed.

A jumbled blurr of images past through your mind. That face in particular. Oh... realization hit you. You cupped his furry cheeks. "Goemon. I'm not scared, I'm right here, I'm not gonna run away or stop loving you."

"But how I acted was so shameful!" You let out an amused huff. "Baby, if you hadn't noticed. Nobody in this family is all prim and proper. We all have faults." You petted his fur.

"And so what if you got upset? You had every right to be. There you were with two unrelenting and disagreeing parties trying your best to prevent infighting, and they just ignored you completely."

You scowled remembering the two first years. You were going to have to scold the later. "You are one of my children, one of my boys! How you acted wasn't shameful."

His fur tickled your hands as he started to nestle into your touch. "You don't think I should give up?" He asked quietly. "Why should you give up on your goals? So you reached a bump in the road. It's okay, you can learn from this."

Resting your heads together, you sighed. "The truth is, not everyone can get along with each other. And it's not like you can agree with someone about everything. There will be times when you argue or times when you part ways on bad terms."

You watched him slump a bit before nudging him. "But that makes those you do stay with those you can past arguments and understand their differences all the more special. Cause you decided that they were worth understanding. And they thought you were worth it too."

He seemed to perk up at that. Their he was your positive child. "You- you think I'm worth staying for?" The amazement in his voice as he quickly threw his arms around you. You laughed.

"All my children are worth staying for. Even if they cause trouble everywhere they go." You teased. Ruffling up his fur. "Thank you." You didn't respond to that. You didn't need to. You had said enough.

That image still flashed in your mind from time to time. But despite the harsh features and the rather hideous appearance... it was still your son. They say there are some faces that not even a parent can love. Well, shame on them for missing out on great kids like Goemon! You would love that face if no one else would.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #gaap goemon #murmur

[blade-that-was-broken]

Is there anything you have wanted to talk about, in any of your AUs, but haven’t had the chance to?

Haha… oh my dude… there is far too much.

I could probably go through every single fic and every single chapter and point out various things. Like. So much. And I’d probably have to reread the chapters to collect it all but I’ll try to remember a few off the top of my head.

Since For This You Were Born is my most popular (which is crazy for me to think about considering how it started) I’ll use that one a bit.

So the first chapter, we don’t know Branch is in JD’s hair but I tried to drop hints that he was. When JD first goes outside to follow his mother, he hears the breeze in the branches and almost thinks it’s Branch’s voice. It’s cause Branch is starting to kind of wake up. When he jumps to the ground from the tree, he feels like a rock was dropped on his head. That’s just Branch. Or when he dances across the cobblestone and JD thinks someone clapped for him. Yeah once again. That was Branch. The baby is half asleep and thinks it’s a dream but he’s there.

In the I’m Still Here au, mostly in the prequel Question to the World, it alludes to King Peppy requesting the idea of the Perfect Family Harmony to John Dory to use to escape or even fight against the Bergens. Pair that with his perfectionist tendencies, the pressure and overall stress of taking care of his brothers and managing the band, it helped push him over the edge.

I implied/pretty much stated that for a moment there, in Smoke and Starlight there was a rumor going around that John Dory was either one of the last or the last pop troll and Barb sent a bounty on him cause well… she really hated them for a bit. Except when Chaz went after him, JD almost killed him and I know I should not find that amusing but I do. Cause I kind of hate Chaz. He freaks me out 😂

In Breathe Again well, I say Delta’s brother died and it was very hard and traumatic for her but I’m not sure how it happens yet. It’s not a huge part or deal but like… there’s a lot of ways to die :/ also Rhonda is a Great Pyrenees cause they are big and usually white/cream colored and fluffy and they are protective and loyal and patient with their own kids. John took a lot of time to train her and even get her used to the scent of his brothers the best he could so that she would see them as her own. She’s a smart cookie. Also the best girl. She’s the most protective of Branch probably cause he’s a baby and has a soft spot for Spruce probably cause he kind of needs that emotional attachment and he spends more time with her. Of course John’s her go to.

This is wayyyyyy too much I know and barely a blink into the little dumb things I’ve included in some of my writings. Sometimes it’s hard cause you want people to notice everything and obviously they don’t which you know, makes sense, but it’s also kind of funny.

And now that I’ve reread your ask, I think I didn’t understand the question well enough cause I thought it was something ENTIRELY different so I apologize! I also have a new concept of when jd leaves he joins a band where HE is the baby of the group. Wholesome stuff tho

I hope this was interesting to read tho!

#I’m so sorry 😅 #ask

[redgoldsparks]

August Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Full reviews below the cut.

A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine

What a brilliant and satisfying follow up to A Memory Called Empire. What a pleasure when the second book in a duology is arguable stronger than the first! This book picks up pretty much exactly where the previous one left off, with Mahit back on Lsel Station, Three Seagrass still in Teixcalaan promoted to a high level Information Ministry role under the new Emperor, and war against an unintelligible alien force brewing in the very edge of Teixcalaan space. Nine Hibiscus heads the fleet facing the mysterious enemy and her friendship with Twenty Cicada, her second in command, shines as one of the highlights of the story. This book once against wrestles with the limits of identity ("How wide is your your definition of you?" is a question asked over and over) as well how hard is it to resist soft power/cultural exports of empire, even by a people who desire to maintain an independence government. I highly, highly recommend this series and plan to keep reading anything Arkady Martine publishes!

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Bear read by Kinsale Hueston

An engaging young adult murder mystery which draws from a real mix of myths and cultures! The main character, Ellie, is Lipan Apache, and the heir to a family power to call back the dead. Her best friends are the ghost of her childhood dog, Kirby, and Jay, a human boy who is part fae. When Ellie's cousin, an elementary school teacher and new father, is killed in a mysterious car accident, Ellie's family rallies around his widow to try and figure out what really happened. The death occurred in Willowby, Texas, a strange town full of it's own secrets. Fairy mushrooms grow improbably from the dry soil, and vampires linger in unusual numbers around the mansion of a wealthy doctor. Can two teens and a ghost dog unravel this crime, and find justice for the dead? I listened as an audiobook and through it took me a while to orient myself in the beginning, by the end I really enjoyed the ride. It made me think of Gaimen's American Gods, but written from an indigenous perspective for younger readers.

A Map to the Sun by Sloane Leong

This is a beautiful, complex book which follows five high school girls in Los Angeles, struggling to stay motivated and in school despite shaky friendships, challenging home lives, and a world of factors outside of their control. A young, peppy teacher convinces them to join a new, underfunded girls basketball team at the school and the desire to win becomes their motivating factor. The emotional heart of the story is the relationship of Ren and Luna, who spent one summer as best friends before Luna moved back to Oahu and stopped answering any of Ren's calls. When Luna reappears at the start of the next school year, she seems to think she can slot right back into Ren's life as if nothing happened. But Ren as been abandoned before, and she doesn't trust so easily a second time. Colored in a palette of bright, vivid tones that bring out the heat of an LA summer and the emotions of a bruised heart.

A Quick and East Guide to Asexuality by Molly Muldoon and Will Hernandez

At just 70 pages, this book is very much "just the basics". I thought the chapter sections were divided well and the flow of information was good, but I hope anyone who reads this goes on to pick up a few longer books afterwards! I also wish it had been printed in color.

I Know You Rider by Leslie Stein

Published in 2020, this book narrates an experience that should be ordinary: getting an abortion, and deciding to talk about it publicly. The author highlights conversations from the year surrounding the abortion, picking out poignant or humorous moments. Stein's circle of friends includes fellow cartoonists, musicians, restaurant owners and many others, all trying to do the best they can in a complicated world. The drawings are loose, panelless, charmingly rendered in watercolor and the hand lettering gives the book a particularly personal, almost diary-like feel.

Truly Devious by Maureen Johnson read by Kate Rudd

This is a twisty and satisfying teen murder mystery, which weaves together two timelines at an exclusive private boarding school, Ellingham Academy, in Vermont. In 1936, the wife and daughter of the school's rich founder were kidnapped and never returned. The kidnapper also took one student and left a threatening cut and pasted riddle note which has frustrated scholars of the case for years. In the present day, true-crime aficionado Stevie Bell is accepted into the school and is delighted to walk on the grounds she has read so much about. She is determined to solve the Ellingham kidnapping case once and for all, but when a series of mysterious and threatening incidents begin to happen around her, Stevie realizes that she might be in the middle of her own new Ellingham case. The story ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but luckily there are four more books already out in this series and I have the next one on hold already!

The Best At It by Maulik Pancholy

As he heads into seventh grade in his small town in Indiana, Rahul increasingly struggles with his growing anxiety, worries that he might be gay, and desires to fit in to his mostly white junior high school. When Rahul's beloved grandfather tells him a story about his passionate grandma, an engineer who overcame prejudice by being the best student in her school, Rahul interprets this to mean that he also must become the very best at something. He tries out for the football team and auditions as an actor, while ignoring his actual best subject, math, because it seems too nerdy. He also stresses over a cultural fair his family is helping run, worrying about appearing "too Indian". Luckily, his best friend Chelsea cheerleads all of his projects, no matter how strange, and his family assure him that they will accept him no matter what- even before Rahul understands how much he values their support.

The Moth Presents: All These Wonders edited by Catherine Burns

I've listened to the Moth podcast on and off here and there, but picked up this book from a little free library mainly because of the pretty cover and forward by Neil Gaiman. So good job marketing and design team, you got me, at least when the price was $0. Anyway, this was a lovely collection of short human stories about all kinds of different life experiences. There are a few that will genuinely stick with me for years, including one about grief written by a chaplain, and one about the woman who became David Bowie's hairdresser during the Ziggy Stardust years. My one small complain about this book is the fact that all the stories are of nearly the exact same length slightly lessoned their emotional impact as I started to get towards the end of the book.

Spear written and read by Nicola Griffith

I loved Nicola Griffith's first book, and was highly anticipating this second one; it did not disappoint! I listened to the audiobook was completely drawn into the lyrical language and the magic of this Arthurian legend retelling. The story opens with a girl born and raised in a wild valley by a mother who is sometimes loving, wise, and overflowing with stories and other times depressed, fearful, and vacant. The girl knows that something terrible happened to her mother in the past; it has something to do with her birth and the beautiful enamel bowl that sits over the fire in the cave they shelter in. But the girl is too delighted by the world, and too curious about the plants, animals, and humans who live in the valley to dwell on it. She grows in strength and skill; visions and gut feelings draw her to collect armor and repair weapons, and eventually set out south towards King Arthur's court. There she stumbles into a story that was started long before she was born, but in which she will play a vital part. I absolutely loved this, it's deeply queer, and I highly recommend it!

Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands by Kate Beaton

Holy shit, what a book!! I've been reading Kate Beaton's work online since the livejournal days, starting in roughly 2009, just after the events which this memoir recounts. It's humbling to sit with the narrative of what was happening in the real life of an author I knew for her humorous history jokes in Hark! A Vagrant. In 2005, Kate was a recent college graduate with a double degree in History and Anthropology, and a mountain of student debt. She came home to Cape Breton, in Eastern Canada, to a very bleak jobless landscape. So, she did what everyone was doing at the time: went to work in the oil sands in Alberta until she could pay her loans off. At twenty-two she had no idea what to expect or what she would find there; what the isolation, physically challenging work environment, and massive gender-imbalance of the employee population would lead to. Men outnumbered women sometimes fifty to one; sexual harassment during work hours and assault after hours in the camp dorms was rampant, as was depression and drug use. Slowly, over the course of three years, Kate became aware of the conversations around environmental impact and misuse of stolen Indigenous lands. This book, nearly 500 pages, does not tell; it shows, in excruciating detail, the human cost of this harsh, damaging industry. But while the money remains, people who feel they have no other choice will keep working the oil sands. No one who works there wants to be there, but the other industries they worked in before are gone. I am extremely grateful that Beaton decided to write this book, and I hope the telling of the story was cathartic. Thank you also to Drawn and Quarterly, for giving me a copy in advance of its release. This is a heavy book, but I definitely recommend it, and I want to follow it up with some reading on how we begin addressing this huge, systemic problem.

#books #reading #book reviews #comic book reviews #book recs

[themultifandomgal]

Temptation Pt1

Temptation Masterlist

Hopper Bay, Alaska, 1962. I have been on my own now for about 30 years, and not only am I bored, but I'm also extremely lonely. The most interaction I have had is when I was in Tennessee a few years after I had turned. I smelt blood and found a bear attacking a young man. I killed the bear, the blood from the human not really appealing to me, but before I could help the man, I smelt Vampires who were probably more skilled than I was so I left. I ended up on top of a mountain watching a girl and guy going over to the man who had been attacked, they carried him away, this is when I realised that these vampires couldn't smell me, but maybe I was too far away.

I take a deep breath as I am about to enter Hopper Bay High School, maybe this time I'll graduate school.  I walk into reception where I'm met with a young lady

"Hello, my name is Katherine Bailey, I'm new"

"Of course" the woman smiles at me and opens a draw, I can hear every last thing, another reason why I had been on my own all those years. The woman hands me a piece of paper "this is your class schedule, Marie" the woman calls. A girl pops up next to me bright eyed and peppy "this is Katherine, please escort her to Mr Philps's class"

"Sure thing Mrs Jones" the girl Marie turns to face me "lets go" Marie takes my arm in hers and we head off to whatever class Mr Philps is "so why did you move schools?" Marie asks me

"Errm, personal reasons"

"What do your parents do?"

"They're dead" I dead pan say

"Oh, I'm sorry. Who do you live with?" damn it, I didn't really think this through

"Errm my foster parents"

"Oh cool" thankfully the walk to class isn't long.

On entry to the glass I'm greeted by a tall slender man with glasses

"Good morning Marie, who have you got with you"

"This is Katherine, she's new. Would you like me to sit with her today" please say no please say no please say no I plead in my head. I hear someone snicker and that's when it hits me, there's a vampire in this room

"She can sit by Edward thank you Marie" Marie huffs "Edward can you please raise your hand so Miss Bailey can find you" I scan the room until I see a guy with his hand raised in the air. As I walk closer to him it hits me that he's the vampire, but instead of red eyes he has amber eyes. Maybe he's got contacts in. I sit down next to him

"Hi I'm Kat" he doesn't respond, he just looks at me confused "I'm new, well you obviously got that" I chuckle but he stays silent. Ok maybe if you just get through today without them finding out what you are you can stay here until people wonder why you haven't aged.

After a few classes it's time for lunch. I walk into the cafeteria with a lunch tray in my hands, looking around to decide where to sit. As I do my eyes catch those of Edwards, he looks at me confused, I then realise that the people he's sat with are also all vampires, their eyes all the same colour, huh? Edward looks at me confuse I'm just about to walk over to an empty table when Marie steps in front of me

"Hi" she bubbly says

"Err hi"

"Come sit with me and my friends"

"I'm more of a loner, but thanks" I turn my attention back on to the mysterious group, one guy looking at me, he's huge! I see Edward smirk then say something to the guys who's looking at me. I try to listen in, but Marie starts talking which distracts me

"I wouldn't bother, they are the Cullens, Emmett and Edward are the only single ones and even though Emmett is a hunk, no one here is good enough for him"

"Yeah thanks for the advice" I brush passed Marie and go to a table with no one on it. I go to take a bite of my sandwich when I see a group of people sitting in front of me. I look up and see Edward with his friends "err hi?" I frown

"Katherine, this is my family" Edward says. I can feel eyes on me from people around us "I know what you are" I almost choke on my food

"w-what?" I stutter

"You're one of us, a vampire" a girl with short hair says to me

"Oh erm yeah.. wait what?" I start to feel scared, but then a wave of calmness washes over me

"Can we go somewhere privet to talk" Edward asks. I look around still seeing eyes on me. I nod my head and get up, following Edward and his family... oh god I'm about to die aren't I?

#emmett cullen #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #edward cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #esme cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #twilight x reader #emmett cullen x reader

[substituted-shinigami]

Learning to Breathe

(aka Please Remember To Put On Your Oxygen Mask Before Assisting Others)

Characters: Rukia, Renji, Byakuya, and some Fourth Division OCs, (RenRuki)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, some Angst, some Humor, Family

Rated: T (for mentions of medical tools such as needles and depictions of anxiety, but nothing is graphic or even really overly described. This story is more about the emotions than the medical drama)

Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana (Bloodlines AU), Post TYBW, Post renruki engagement)

Click the link to read below or click here to read the story on AO3!

(5/7)

Chapter 4: Hurricane Inbound

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Summary: Attention passengers, the major turbulence you are now experiencing is due to the worsening of the weather. Therefore, there might be some ‘minor technical difficulties’ when we attempt to land at our destination. We apologize for this slight inconvenience. (The chapter in which Rukia and Renji are greatly inconvenienced.)

“W-Wait!” The teen stammered with increasing levels of anxiety as she stared at the needle, “H-Hold on! I’m not ready yet!”

“Now, now, Ms. Inuzuri,” the nurse placated as if speaking to a small child, “You wish to become a shinigami do you not?” Rukia felt like punching her, but thought better of it.

“Yes…” she deflated instead.

“Then you have to complete a medical exam, and that includes bloodwork and reiatsu-work, both of which unfortunately require needles,” the nurse said instructionally, “Now please hold out your arm nice and straight...” The nurse reached for Rukia's arm again, but Rukia held it close to her chest with her other hand.

“I-I know!…I just…” she gulped as she looked down, “I just need a little more time…”

“I’m sorry dear, but we have other recruits to consider, and we’ve waited far too long already,” the nurse said while shaking her head, “So I’m afraid that if we can’t do this now, we’ll have to dismiss you for today.”

Rukia’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t make Renji go back to Inuzuri, she just couldn’t. She slowly began to release her arm.

“O-Okay… But…can I have my friend with me?” Rukia pleaded, “The tall red headed guy who came in with me. Could you call him in? Please?” The nurse sighed heavily.

“Mr. Abarai is already getting his exam done with the other male recruits in another part of the building, dear. If you interrupt him now, he may have to go back to the beginning of the line or not finish today at all. Do you really want to hold him back like that? To make him have to drop everything for you just because you’re a little nervous?”

“No…” she whispered.

“Good girl. Now please hold out your arm. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit…”

__________________________________

"Oi! I thought we were racing! If you keep staring off into space like that, I'm going to win easily," Renji teased, easily snapping Rukia out of her dark thoughts. She shook the gloomy memory from her mind, and gave him a look of fake superiority.

"Hmph! I was just giving you time to catch up, you slowpoke!" she teased back.

"Sure, sure," he replied, as he reshuffled his paperwork, "Go ahead and take a break then, you speedy little rabbit. Meanwhile this slowpoke tiger will pass you by."

"That’s supposed to be a turtle, you fool, not a tiger! And, good luck with that!" Rukia replied, as she eagerly went back to her reading.

About an hour later they were still racing through their material, when they were suddenly interrupted.

“Well, hey there, hun! My name is Sato Koemi, and I’ll be your nurse today! How are you doing?” came the extra peppy voice.

“Nice to meet you!” Renji greeted easily as he put away his pen. He subtly nudged Rukia, who still had her nose stuck in her manga and hadn’t even noticed the exchange. She blinked in surprise.

“Oh! Um…Yes! Nice to meet you!

“Crazy weather we’re having today, huh?” the nurse went on as she took a seat in the waiting room next to them, “I hear it’s actually started hailing for awhile there! Still I’d much rather have it cold than hot. Can always put on a scarf, but can’t take off your clothes but so much, you know what I mean? Ha ha!” the nurse continued with a cheerful familiarity that Rukia found more than a little off-putting.

“Um… Yes… For sure…" she replied slowly.

“Anyway, I’m so sorry for all the delays. The other problem with all this bad weather is that it takes forever to get anyone anywhere! Not to mention the New Year coming up and the flu going around…”

“Same problem over at the Sixth,” Renji piped in conversationally, “We’ve been having massive call-outs all week.” Rukia inwardly cringed. She had no idea it had gotten so bad. No wonder he's been doing so much extra paperwork! Renji…

“Thank you all for understanding. Now what is this about a neck RIT?” Rukia explained the situation again. “I see. I see,” nodded the nurse, “Well, unfortunately, as I'm sure you've heard, the average tech or nurse doesn't handle neck RITs. I can talk to my Relief Team Leader about it, and see if we can get a specialist in for ya. But unfortunately, if we can't find anybody who’s available, that means I've got to try and get a needle in that there temperamental arm of yours. Otherwise, well…" Nurse Sato shook her head and shrugged, "we may have to dismiss you for today and reschedule the entire appointment."

Rukia tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but she could feel her heart beating faster and faster inside of her now tightening chest.

Breathe! Come on, breathe! You can handle this! You've got to! Otherwise… Otherwise, Renji will never stop worrying about you…losing sleep over you… So come on! Don't be such a wuss! She admonished herself, B-Besides, maybe it will turn out okay? M-Maybe this nurse is like, Soul King-tier great at needles, and will find a spot in your arm that even Hanatarō can't find…

Out of the corner of her eye, Rukia took a peek at Renji’s face to see how he was doing. However rather than worried, like she thought, he was positively seething. He looked like he was about to tell the nurse exactly where he thought she could stick that needle.

Better than worried, Rukia thought, her heart both warming and settling a little at the sight, Still, I better take over. Rukia plastered on her best fake smile and said, "Thank you oh so very much for your kind consideration and honesty, Nurse Koemi! If you would like, you may take a look at my arm if it means avoiding having to reschedule."

The nurse's face lit up a little at this, somehow completely oblivious to the wrath she just avoided. "Don't you worry, hun, I'm very good! And we'll just do one and done. If I do miss, that's it, okay? No point in turning you into a pin cushion!" And with that, she was out the door to grab her supplies.

The minute she left, Rukia's face immediately dropped. Her fist clenched involuntarily as her chest began tightening again. Could this day get any worse… she thought, while trying to ignore her growling stomach. They had already been there for several hours.

"Hey…" Renji said to her quietly, having appeared to have calmed down from his own internal battle.

Shoot! I probably looked nervous again! Rukia thought. She unclenched her fists and tried to appear nonchalant.

"It's fine,” she dismissed quickly, ”At least they are taking the vein problem seriously. And hey, she even said she'd only stick me once! That’s a lot nicer than some of the other nurses we've dealt with. They all assumed that I'm just making the whole thing up to try to get out of it and so try to stick me multiple times anyway. Then I really do become a pin cushion from all their failed attempts…" Rukia finished quietly, as she stared down at her arms.

"Ru…"

Rukia shook her head as if to clear it and relaxed her position. She tapped her chin as a mischievous look crossed her face, "Actually, now that I think about it, I wonder if I could be one? A pin cushion I mean. Aren't they usually round and cute? I think I saw Ishida with one shaped like a tomato or an orange once. I wonder if he could make one shaped like my head." Rukia turned to face Renji, tilted her head to the side, and framed it with her hands, "What do you think, hmmm? Do you think I would make a cute pin cushion?" She smirked at him.

Renji looked less amused. However, he simply sighed, and leaned in closer to her. Their noses touched.

"The cutest," he murmured to her softly before giving her a quick kiss, "Do you want me to hold your hand while they do the RIT?"

Yes. Definitely. Is what she wanted to say, what she desperately wanted to say, but how could she? “I’ll… It… I’m sure it will be fine…” she finished lamely. Renji looked pretty unconvinced but ignored it.

“How about we find a way to take your mind off of it?” he said instead.

“I’m fine, Renji, seriously! After all, I still got my book!” However, when Rukia looked down at her manga, she saw that she was on the last page, “Ah… Well, I guess I won the race! So now I can help you out with your paperwork.”

“Not so fast,” Renji replied, smirking and holding up his last page of paperwork, “Looks like we finished about the same time. Did they leave us any magazines? Sometimes those have crosswords on them or at least ridiculous articles to read.” Rukia looked around, and picked up the magazine pile.

“Hmmm, looks like they only got some old ones we’ve already read at other doctor’s appointments this month. Also the crosswords have already been filled in.”

“Crap.”

“Yeah…” Rukia sighed, “I could go back to registration? See if they have any new ones?”

“Nah, it was a maze getting here. It’s probably best if we stay put.” Renji looked around the room, and smiled mischievously, “Now that I think about it, there aren’t any windows in this room, and we are the only two here. Plus we did get interrupted last time by that rude thunderstorm…” Renji began slowly. Rukia rolled her eyes.

“Renji, they could literally return at any minute.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding…mostly anyways…” Renji laughed. He looked down at the packet that Rukia had gotten when she went through registration, “Anything in there that’s interesting?”

“Unlikely, they are usually all the same information no matter where you go.” Rukia opened up the packet. Several papers full of medical information lay inside along with a Fourth Division branded cheap notepad.

“Well there’s something!” Renji exclaimed, pointing to the notepad, “You could use that to draw.”

“Yeah…” Rukia began slowly, “but I don’t have my markers with me. And it’s hard to think of what to draw with all of…this going on…”

“Yeah…that makes sense,” Renji agreed. He thought again, “Hey, why don’t we play Codes instead?” Rukia's brows furrowed.

“Codes?” Rukia asked, brows furrowing, “Like we used to do as kids?”

“Yeah! Write out a coded message and then have me try and solve it. And then I’ll do the same. Come on, I know you remember them, Ichigo told me about the one you left him.” Rukia made a face.

“Yeah, but if Ichigo figured it out, then clearly they need some work.”

“No time like the present to practice!” Renji exclaimed, handing her his pen.

“Hmmm… I suppose…” Rukia replied, taking it. Her face scrunched up in concentration, and then she began to quickly write on the notepad. After she finished writing, she handed the notepad to Renji. “Hah! A double code! Twice as hard as the one I gave Ichigo. Try solving that!” Rukia said triumphantly, folding her arms. Renji looked down at the notepad, it read:

DMYF DTREE'SF DSTAWLWARTF DROCKF

DBUTF DTHEF DWAVESF DCRASHF DAGAINSTF DYOUF

DLETF DMYF DROOTSR DHOLDF DYOUF

There was also a deer drawn on one side of the code, and a fox on the other. Renji pretty quickly remembered that the animals meant which letters he was supposed to cross out. Since he had it figured out immediately, he went ahead and mentally translated the message:

My tree's stalwart rock

But the waves crash against you

Let my roots hold you

It…It was a haiku! A pretty awful haiku, but who was anyone in comparison to his captain or Kira? Plus Renji believed he understood the meaning behind it well enough, so it worked. Basically.

“Wow, this sure is hard,” he lied, “This might take me a while. Mind if I make one for you to solve while I work on it?”

“Sure, of course!” Rukia nodded. Renji flipped to the next piece of cheap note pad paper and quickly scribbled something down. He ripped it out and handed it over to her. Rukia squinted at the note. It was in morse code:

.. / .- -- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .-. --- -.-. -.- --..-- / .... ..- .... ..--..

.. / ... ..- .--. .--. --- ... . / .. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / -- .. -. -.. --..--

-.-- --- ..- .-. / .-. --- --- - ... / .- .-. --- ..- -. -.. / -- . / ---... -.--.-

“Morse code, huh? Real original, Abarai! I can solve this without even taking out a pen!”

“Well, good! ‘Cause we only got one!” Renji replied, as he began to slowly cross out the letters. Rukia took her time, and slowly translated the message in her head.

I am your rock, huh?

I suppose I wouldn't mind,

Your roots around me :)

The smiley face was included in the morse code. Inside, Rukia suddenly felt very hot, although whether it was with fondness or annoyance she wasn't entirely sure. She had found over the years that the two were not mutually exclusive, especially when it came to her fiance. Still, she composed herself, folded up the note serenely, and then threw the offending piece of paper at Renji’s head.

“Liar! You figured out my code immediately!”

“It just means you need to work on it,” Renji laughed. He handed her back the notepad and pen with the solved code, “Here, write me another one.”

Rukia quickly took them back, practically yanking them out of Renji’s hands, and began writing vigorously. She was taking a lot longer this time, and Renji tried to sneak a peek, but she would just glare at him and then crouch even lower over the paper. Eventually, Rukia shoved the pen and paper back at him.

“Here, try to solve that one!” She challenged as she crossed her arms. Renji looked down at the notepad. It was covered in numbers:

24 14 24 34 44, 33 45 32 12 43 13 45 31 31,

14 34 42 13 52 23 34 23 11 43 13 11 35 44 45 42 15 14 32 54 23 15 11 42 44.

24 31 34 51 15 54 34 45, 54 34 45 25 15 42 13!

“What is this, some sort of number code?” he asked, his brows furrowing. Rukia’s eyes gleamed.

“Hah! You wish! It’s a tap code, it’s just written out! Try remembering how to solve that, you jerk!”

It was a tap code. A code where you would tap out a number to indicate a letter. It was something they used extensively back in Rukongai when they didn’t want others to overhear their messages to each other, whether they be plans or something more…personal. Renji was filled with nostalgia, as he dug through his memories to remember the proper number to letter conversions. Finally, he had this one solved too.

Idiot, Numbskull,

Dork who has captured my heart.

I love you, you jerk!

Renji chuckled warmly as he fondly looked over at his fiance, who was regarding him softly in return. A faint blush was already dusting her cheeks.

“Can I make out with you now?” he asked.

“Yes, but only a little bit,” Rukia sniffed, going a little redder, “The nurse could be back any minute.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Renji agreed, gently cupping her cheek and leaning in.

#bleach #renruki #fanfiction #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #byakuya kuchiki #post tybw #learning to breathe #L2B #bloodlines au #hurt/comfort #some angst #some humor #family

[climbthepeak]

luna nightzzz

https://linktr.ee/lunanightzzz Its sensors can shoot at 2x, 5x and 10x zoom modes with minimal processing trickery. It'll shoot at intermediate settings with various combinations of cropping and multi-camera image compositing that I find fairly convincing. Then it reaches up to 30x with Google's AI-infused upscaling technology, called Super Res Zoom.

Telephoto lenses magnify more distant subjects, and the Pixel 7 Pro has a remarkable range for a smartphone.

Driving all these upgrades is Apple's new A16 Bionic chip, which in use feels peppy. 

It also gets upgraded cameras, a faster processor, an always-on display, iOS 16 and new safety features like Crash Detection and Emergency SOS via Satellite. The iPhone 14 Pro has a 6.1-inch adaptive-refresh-rate screen that adjusts between 1 and 120Hz depending on what's on the screen.

"From his rise as a business mogul to his plummet into international notoriety, this true crime documentary examines the bizarre story of Carlos Ghosn."

Hellhole (2022): Polish horror. "After a couple finds a traumatized child of unknown origins, wife Paula must decipher the girl's strange behaviors to unlock her identity and dark past."

Tuesday

Blade of the 47 Ronin (2022): Action-fantasy. Monday

The Chalk Line (2022): Spanish crime mystery. "At the end of WWII, a ragtag group of resistance fighters plans an impossible heist: to steal Mussolini's treasure from Milan's fascist headquarters."

The Good Nurse (2022): Crime drama starring Eddie Redmayne and Jessica Chastain. "A family migrates to the city after a tragic loss. "While waiting for a kidney transplant, a young pianist finds an unexpected connection with her doctor -- and the courage to fulfill her musical dreams."

Cici (2022): Turkish drama. "An overburdened ICU nurse leans on her selfless new colleague at work and at home -- until a patient's unexpected death casts him in a suspicious light."

Thursday

Beyond the Universe (2022): Brazilian romance. "In 1987 Poland, a police officer investigating mysterious disappearances infiltrates a remote monastery -- and discovers a dark truth about its clergy."

Robbing Mussolini (2022): Italian action-adventure. "A young German soldier's terrifying experiences and distress on the western front during World War I."

Wendell & Wild (2022): Stop-motion family comedy. "Two scheming demons strike a deal with a punk rock-loving teen so they can leave the Underworld and live out their dreams in the Land of the Living."

Wild is the Wind (2022): South African drama. "When two corrupt police officers investigate the brutal murder of a young girl, tensions come to a head in their small, racially-segregated town."

Read more: The Best TV Shows on Netflix

When they reunite in their hometown 30 years later, buried emotions and painful secrets resurface."

Friday

All Quiet on the Western Front / Im Westen nichts Neues (2022): War drama. "Ancient Japanese Ronin warriors set 300 years after 47 Ronin, in a modern-day world where Samurai clans exist in complete secrecy."

Wednesday

Fugitive: The Curious Case of Carlos Ghosn (2022): Documentary.

@ben.the.vet By popular demand - here are 5 dog breeds I would personally consider as a vet getting a dog #dogsoftiktok#veterinary#learnontiktok#woof#benthevet♬ MOMENTS IN LIFE - Turreekk

[purpleearthquakekitten]

Luna nightzzz

Its sensors can shoot at 2x, 5x and 10x zoom modes with minimal processing trickery. It'll shoot at intermediate settings with various combinations of cropping and multi-camera image compositing that I find fairly convincing. Then it reaches up to 30x with Google's AI-infused upscaling technology, called Super Res Zoom.

Telephoto lenses magnify more distant subjects, and the Pixel 7 Pro has a remarkable range for a smartphone.

Driving all these upgrades is Apple's new A16 Bionic chip, which in use feels peppy. 

It also gets upgraded cameras, a faster processor, an always-on display, iOS 16 and new safety features like Crash Detection and Emergency SOS via Satellite. The iPhone 14 Pro has a 6.1-inch adaptive-refresh-rate screen that adjusts between 1 and 120Hz depending on what's on the screen.

"From his rise as a business mogul to his plummet into international notoriety, this true crime documentary examines the bizarre story of Carlos Ghosn."

Hellhole (2022): Polish horror. "After a couple finds a traumatized child of unknown origins, wife Paula must decipher the girl's strange behaviors to unlock her identity and dark past."

Tuesday

Blade of the 47 Ronin (2022): Action-fantasy. Monday

The Chalk Line (2022): Spanish crime mystery. "At the end of WWII, a ragtag group of resistance fighters plans an impossible heist: to steal Mussolini's treasure from Milan's fascist headquarters."

The Good Nurse (2022): Crime drama starring Eddie Redmayne and Jessica Chastain. "A family migrates to the city after a tragic loss. "While waiting for a kidney transplant, a young pianist finds an unexpected connection with her doctor -- and the courage to fulfill her musical dreams."

Cici (2022): Turkish drama. "An overburdened ICU nurse leans on her selfless new colleague at work and at home -- until a patient's unexpected death casts him in a suspicious light."

Thursday

Beyond the Universe (2022): Brazilian romance. "In 1987 Poland, a police officer investigating mysterious disappearances infiltrates a remote monastery -- and discovers a dark truth about its clergy."

Robbing Mussolini (2022): Italian action-adventure. "A young German soldier's terrifying experiences and distress on the western front during World War I."

Wendell & Wild (2022): Stop-motion family comedy. "Two scheming demons strike a deal with a punk rock-loving teen so they can leave the Underworld and live out their dreams in the Land of the Living."

Wild is the Wind (2022): South African drama. "When two corrupt police officers investigate the brutal murder of a young girl, tensions come to a head in their small, racially-segregated town."

Read more: The Best TV Shows on Netflix

When they reunite in their hometown 30 years later, buried emotions and painful secrets resurface."

Friday

All Quiet on the Western Front / Im Westen nichts Neues (2022): War drama. "Ancient Japanese Ronin warriors set 300 years after 47 Ronin, in a modern-day world where Samurai clans exist in complete secrecy."

Wednesday

Fugitive: The Curious Case of Carlos Ghosn (2022): Documentary.

@ben.the.vet By popular demand - here are 5 dog breeds I would personally consider as a vet getting a dog #dogsoftiktok#veterinary#learnontiktok#woof#benthevet♬ MOMENTS IN LIFE - Turreekk



[duino]

"PRO-CON" Pairing: Kuroo x Fem!Reader

Rating/Warnings: T for Teen, alcohol and partying

Word Count: 5.4k (remember the good ol' days when I wrote less than 3k?)

Summary: The pros of staying friends with your ex naturally comes with some cons. Pro? You're friends. Con? You're still in love with him.

Note: Angst/Romantic ending. Exes to Lovers. There was a time I wrote coherent story lines but those days are GONE. Nothing but messy word dumps from here on out friends.

Pro of staying friends with your ex? It’s less awkward at college parties. (In theory.)

Con of staying friends with your ex? You have to see him with a new girl at said college parties and pretend it doesn’t phase you, not even a little. Nope, not one bit. No, seriously, you’re fine.

“You’re so not fine with this,” your friend Hina drawls, handing you a red solo cup. It’s filled with a sickly, candy-red liquid and you crinkle your nose before taking a swig.

“This is disgusting,” you say, immediately taking another drink.

“Well drink up, buttercup, ‘cause it’s that or lukewarm beer.”

You consider tossing the drink out, but then a familiar laugh rings through the room, over the noise, into your chest and you look and see a pretty, dark-haired girl squeezing the arm of your (unfairly) pretty, dark-haired ex.

“Fuck it,” you breathe, and take a couple hard swallows. “God, this tastes like cough syrup.”

“We can always leave,” Hina offers, peppy.

“This corner of the house or the party?”

“No, the party.” Your friend grins. “You know I love a dark corner.”

“I promised I’d come,” you remind her.

“Part of being a full adult is you’re allowed to leave at any time,” she says sagely. “You don’t even need to say goodbye. We could just go.”

“You’re an animal,” you say, dry. “Well, I feel about half an adult, so at least let me say hi to Jin before we dip.” If you’re lucky, you might be able to avoid your ex and the introduction to his new…friend.

Jin’s house, which is not really his house at all but shared between five other roommates, is famous —or infamous, depending— for the parties. He had watched one American movie featuring a romanticized high school rager and next thing you knew, there was a giant disco ball being wheeled in via wood slats duct taped onto two skateboards (he’s a drafting and design engineering major). You had helped them hang it and thus been ceremoniously invited to every “semester bash,” in perpetuity.

Despite the bones of the house being spacious, every corner has been filled with bizarre knick-knacks and décor; it’s an amalgamation of all six roommates and their corresponding styles. Movie posters framed next to prints of landscapes next to a gallery of family photos. The couch is brand new, and the rug was dragged through the streets of a flea market. You have to brush past as many houseplants as there are people to make it to the kitchen, where Jin always resides on the throne that is the island countertop.

“Lookie, lookie,” Jin says, voice booming over the music and people. “It’s our Disco Queen!” His nickname for you. People around him cheer, even if most of them don’t get the reference. You curtsey and humbly deny a beer.

“I’m happy with my cold medicine,” you say, swirling around your cup of punch.

“Family recipe,” Jin says, then hops down to give you a hug. “You can thank grandma for your hangover tomorrow.”

You snort and raise your cup, tapping it on his beer bottle. “May she live a long and prosperous life,” you say and you both drink. “Hey, listen Jin, I’m gonna head out.”

“What? But it’s not even midnight.” He is genuinely aghast.

“I’m old.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m tired.”

“No you’re not.”

“Jin,” you laugh, “I’ve gotta go. It’s so not my night tonight.”

Jin gets contemplative and then grabs your arm suddenly. “Oh no,” he says. “Oh shit, I had no idea Kuroo was going to be here—”

“Jin, it’s fine.���

He shakes his head. “Should I kick him out?” He’s so earnest you have to laugh.

Pro of staying friends with your ex? You can say, “No, we’re good. No bad blood,” and mean it.

Con of staying friends with your ex? Nobody ever seems to believe you.

“Really? You’re good?” He’s squeezing your arm and you can see he’s a moment away from sitting you down in the nearest bathroom and giving you an impromptu, drunk therapy session. “Because I would completely understand if you needed to cry on my shoulder right now.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Very funny. Seriously, we’re good. I’m good.”

And you know what? You are. It’s been three months since your breakup with Kuroo and the idea of it doesn’t make you sick anymore. Three months, and when you two run into each other on the street or on campus there isn’t that moment where you’re hoping, or pretending you’re cool, or hiding that piece of you that still wants him. Three months, and when you think of him as your friend, he is just that. Mostly. Every day he becomes a little bit less your ex, and a little more your friend who you happened to date. (Never mind that you had been desperately in love. Never mind that you had cried yourself to sleep for a week.)

That does not, however, mean that you’re okay watching him flirt with another girl. Maybe someday, though that someday seems impossible now, at a house party wedged between a very passionate couple, Jin’s dolefully compassionate eyes, and a Ficus.

Still, Jin sees the surety in your eyes and nods, satisfied. “Good. In that case, I have a friend for you.” His eyes go wicked.

“What? No, Jin, I told you, I’m leaving—”

He pretends not to hear you and waves someone over. You’re staring at your friend, alarmed. “For fun,” he says, cajoling. “You need some fun.”

“I do not need fun,” you hiss. “I need —hey,” you break off as the figure approaches. “Hi.”

“Hey,” the stranger says, with an easy smile. “Hey, dude,” he says to Jin. He’s tall, brunette, pretty face. “You must be the Disco Queen Jin keeps telling me about,” he grins and holds out a hand. “I’m Makato.” He has dimples and you immediately forget his name.

“Hey,” you say again. “Yes. Disco Queen. That’s me.” Apparently, after Kuroo, you’ve forgotten how to flirt. Jin elbows you without subtlety. You elbow him back.

Makato —Makato? Yes, Makato— watches the both of you, amused and relaxed. “Wanna grab some air?” he asks you. He does it so easily, so bold in his ease, that it disarms you.

“Sure,” you blurt out, because it feels like the right thing to say when someone is so brazen with you. “Why not.”

You let the tall, handsome man lead you through the people and ignore how unbearably pleased Jin is with himself. Makato says, “I know a place,” with twinkling eyes and you let him think you don’t know every inch of this property like the back of your hand. You’ve spent more than one sophomore night here, too drunk to go home the night before.

“Do you,” you say, despite it all, and the thirty feet you’ve walked has somehow given you your flirtatious edge back. “How mysterious.”

“Gotta keep you guessing, right?” He throws a lopsided grin over his shoulder. You give him a mindless smile back.

You’ve almost made it to the back door when a hand on your arm stops you. Your body recognizes the touch before your mind does; you jerk a little and turn and then jerk again when you realize who it is. “Oh,” you say, “Hi. Hey.”

“Hi,” Kuroo says, smiling softly. “Hey.” His expression is so familiar, so dear in that familiarity that you actually lose composure for a moment. Then he glances behind you at Makato and though his smile remains, it goes distant and a little hard. He looks back at you. “I've been looking for you. Saw you come with Hina.”

“Who’s this?” Makato asks. He’s as warm to Kuroo as he was for you.

“My friend—”

“Her ex—” Kuroo interjects. “We used to date.” You press your lips together tight.

“We’re just friends now,” you say. Makato keeps his easy demeanor. He’s either high or enlightened, you can’t tell.

“That’s cool,” he says, and he really means it. You snort and laugh and give him an appraising look. Your drink is giving you a pleasant buzz and your new friend a pleasant glow.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Kuroo says. He seems to be ignoring Makato completely. Your brows pinch. You don’t understand his expression.

“Well, here I am,” you say.

“Here you are,” Kuroo says. He’s tense around the edges. From behind you, Makato places a cautious hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” Makato says, “if you wanna meet up another time, or…”

“No,” you say, abrupt. A small thread of irritation pierces you. You’ve spent the past few months hurt and healing and trying to manage a new friendship with your ex-boyfriend and now he was —what? What was he doing? You aren’t sure, but it’s something. You know him well enough to know that. “Could you just give me a moment, though? I’ll meet you outside?” You give Makato another sweet, mindless smile and he mirrors it easily, completely unphased.

“Cool,” he says. “Definitely. See you in a bit.”

You watch him go and then turn to Kuroo with raised brows. “You couldn’t have been nicer?”

Your ex’s returned smile is sardonic. “He couldn’t tell the difference either way.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You like when I’m a menace,” he replies. Someone behind him jostles into the both of you and Kuroo grabs your arm and moves you into a quieter corner, half-concealed by a large hanging plant and a giant statue of a globe (you’re pretty sure Jin and his boyfriend had hauled it out of the trash somewhere). “How are you? How’ve you been?” He squeezes your arm. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You narrow your eyes. “We saw each other last week in the hall.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but we haven’t like, seen, each other.”

You keep your voice dry to stop the strange cocktail of feelings being near him is giving you: irritation, sadness and immediate acceptance, fondness that you think will exist within you forever. Being dry and distant feels easier than any of those things. “Probably because you’ve been busy with your pretty friend over there,” you say. You manage to sound amused, blasé even.

Kuroo looks faintly confused. “My ‘pretty friend’? What?”

“With the dark hair and the glasses?”

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “She’s not—"

“What? Your friend?”

“Well, she’s a friend, but she’s not—”

“It’s okay if she is, Kuroo.” Your use of his last name seems to fluster him. For all his sly smiles and mischievous eyes, you know there’s tentative heart underneath. A pang of guilt shoots through you. You’re being distant with that tentative heart as much as you’re being distant with the parts of him that irritate you. He runs a hand through his hair, sticking it up in every direction.

“I know but, she’s not…y’know…”

He looks to awkward that you take pity and put a hand on his arm. You’re both glad and disappointed at your own gladness; you should be over this by now, you should be okay with seeing him out and with someone else and not feeling smug when he says otherwise. “I’m teasing,” you say. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“I live for you teasing me,” he says softly, and gives you a wry smile.

You don’t want to feel sad anymore, but you do. Every conversation with Kuroo feels wrought with history and the struggle of moving past it. You want to be happy at the idea of moving on, but you secretly hate it. You want to be friendly but then he says something like I live for you teasing me, and the lines between the both of you are blurred by memory. You want to feel steady and sure of yourself and the decisions you’ve both made, and you are for a bit, and then he looks at you and you aren’t.

You wonder if Kuroo struggles in the same way and then you look at his face, and you know he does. You both search each other, see the mirrored feelings —complex and tangled as they are— and you both share a smile.

Pro of staying friends with your ex? There’s someone who knows you, the secret part of you, and understands. (And loves, but neither one of you will say that word. Not again —not in the same way.)

Con of staying friends with your ex? It makes it twice as hard to move on.

But you have to, that’s the thing. You can’t pine forever. You can’t be standing here with him, in the hidden corner at a college part, doing what? You almost say it. What are we doing? But you don’t really want to know.

Instead, you say, “I should go. Makato’s waiting for me.”

Kuroo’s brows pinch, like you’ve brough him out of a daydream too soon. “Is he —ah, shit. Never mind.” He looks frustrated with himself more than anything. “Of course. Have fun,” he adds, and then winces and you know why.

“You too,” you say, gentle. And then, knowing you have to move past this moment somehow, you say, “It was good to see you, Tetsurō.” It’s not quite the nickname you used to use, but it’s better than the formality of his last name and Kuroo’ll take what he can get.

The two of you don’t hug, but he offers you an awkward fist bump and when you laugh and tap your knuckles on his, he laughs and the tension breaks, if only a little.

“See you around, Tetsurō,” you say.

“Sure,” he says. He’s grinning, he’s sad. “See you around.”

You don’t look back, but you know he’s watching you go.

You hate that you can’t enjoy being kissed right now. Makato’s pressing you against the outside of the house, hand half up your shirt, giving you his best efforts and you can only give him half-hearted kisses in return. You feel too aware of yourself, of him, of your own thoughts.

People pass by and they whistle at the two of you and Makato pulls away. He studies you face.

“I think maybe I’ve misread things,” he says after a moment. He’s got on that easy smile again, and you wonder what its like to be so nonchalant about everything.

You’re a little flustered, a little relieved. “No, you didn’t. I wanted to kiss you, I just…” You make an inarticulate gesture with your hands.

“I get it. Exes are tough. Being friends with an ex is tougher, sometimes.” He’s got kind, regretful eyes.

Your first instinct is to deny him but he’s being so nice. “You’re…very observant.”

He lets out a boisterous laugh. “Psychology major. But I don’t have to be that observant to see you still love him. It’s cool, really. I get it,” he says again. “Went through the same thing last year with my ex. It sucks.”

“I don’t love him,” you rush to say, but even as the words leave you, you realize how untrue they are, how it feels like a betrayal to yourself to even think of saying them. “Or,” you falter, “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.” Especially not with a guy you’re supposed to be “having fun” with. You groan. “I’m so sorry.”

Makato chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder fondly. “Hey, I thought you were cute, and I took a chance. No harm, no foul.”

You pat his hand with yours. “At any other time of my life…”

“Stop beating yourself up about this. Really.”

You look up at him, and for the first time that night, you appreciate the man in front of you truly and genuinely. “You’re a really good guy, Makato.”

He squeezes your shoulder. “And you’re a gem, Disco Queen. That guy back there’s a fool if he didn’t see that.”

You give him a smile with some effort. Kuroo not appreciating you had never been the problem, but you don’t want to think about that anymore, not tonight. You wanted to do what you had originally planned: go home and curl up in a duvet and sleep for a day and a half.

Makato takes a step away from you and then holds out his hand. “Friends?”

You laugh and take his hand gratefully. “Friends.” Then you look at him again. “You know, speaking of. I have a friend. She’s single.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow. “Do tell.”

“Her name’s Hina. She’ll never let you have the last word, and she hates parties, but she’s the best.”

“You know what I think?” Makato says, grinning wide. You have to mirror him.

“What?”

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

You laugh and kiss him on the cheek, right where his dimples are. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

You leave the party without saying goodbye to anyone. Turns out you can just leave. You had texted Hina before, but it turns out she had already left.

Saw you walking out with a total hottie! I’m tired and drunk! Text me!

I’m home! I hope you’re busy making me an aunty right now ;) ;) ;)

Funny story, you text back, but you don’t get a reply so Hina must already be sleeping.

You decide to walk back to your dorm. The night is warm with late spring, the path is short, and you need to clear your head.

There’s a sweet loneliness you feel, walking home alone. The music of Jin’s party starts to fade and so are the two drinks you had. It’s your first time leaving one of his parties early. You’ve walked this way so many times, usually stumbling, usually with friends. Often, with Kuroo. Most of the time you had either still been drunk, or terribly hungover. It’s weird to retrace these familiar steps relatively sober with no one to laugh with and bump your shoulder against. It wasn’t that long ago. It was a lifetime ago. Time is everything and nothing.

It’s senior year now and then, in just a small while, you’ll be graduated. In so many ways, this walk feels like leaving some part of your youth behind. It happens so slowly and then too fast, too sudden. You’re laughing with someone you thought you would love forever and then you’re alone.

You cross your arms over your chest like it’ll protect you from the ache that’s entering you, that’s always been there but you haven’t let yourself feel until now, surrounded by nothing but nighttime quiet.

Damn Kuroo, and damn your heart for reacting like this. I’ve been looking for you all night. I live for you teasing me. His gaze, his regretful smile. There’s a prick of tears at your eyes and you shake your head, fighting them off. You’ve done enough crying. You’ve just gotten over the crying part of things. You try to find, within yourself, the girl who could say I’m good to Jin and mean it.

But maybe you never get over it. Maybe you leave a part of your heart here, under this pavement, and you’ll never be able to walk this way again without it being a little sad.

The tears persist, and soon you’re wiping blindly at your face as you walk. You’re halfway home when you hear someone shout your name from behind you. You startle and turn around, hands raised in defence. Your tears make the figure approaching you into a blur. It doesn’t matter. You’d know the shape of him anywhere. Your shoulders don’t lose their tension.

Kuroo raises a brow when he reaches you. And then he sees your trembling lip, your wide eyes and his steps falter. “Shit, did something happen?” he asks immediately. He wants to reach out for you, you can see it in the stiff lines of his body, but you know if you let him hold you now, you’ll start crying in earnest and that’s not how you want this night to go.

“I’m just a sentimental drunk,” you say, voice thick. Kuroo smiles like I know you are.

“You dork,” he says, but there’s still faint concern on his face. “What are you doing walking home alone?”

“What are you doing following me?” you counter.

“I wanted to know why you were walking home alone.”

“Turns out you can leave a party early, if you want, and you don’t even have to tell anybody.”

Kuroo quirks a smile. “Revolutionary.”

“You can thank Hina for that little nugget of wisdom.”

“Oh man,” he laughs, “I miss her wisdom.” You give him a tense smile; your lives used to be so twined. “Can I walk with you?” he asks, after a moment.

You hesitate and then nod.

Somehow, Kuroo walking next to you makes the bittersweetness of memory even keener. You know he remembers this walk, your time in love together, just as sharply, and every so often you can see a memory come to his face, his smile, and then his slight frown. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t try to say anything either.

Every few steps, the back of his hand brushes against yours.

“What’s that in your hand?” he asks, after a couple blocks.

You unfurl your fist to reveal a piece of paper. Makato had written his number down for you to give to Hina. You had forgotten you’d been holding it.

Kuroo stares at the crinkled paper for a minute before looking away. The urge comes to explain yourself, but you realize you shouldn’t need to. He had showed up with another girl and, after all, the both of you are supposed to be friends.

Another block in tightrope silence.

“Remember when we were leaving Jin’s house and you realized you had a paper due the next morning?” you try. It feels like a safe memory —one from before you guys got together, when it was just friendship.

Kuroo cracks a smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks. “You stayed up with me all night to help me write it. I remember.” His expression goes wistful.

“And you got a B! You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re an angel.” He says and you thaw. He sees you thawing and carries on. “Remember when we had to carry Hina home? You, me, that random guy she was supposed to hook up with…”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “We had to take turns piggybacking her. She’s the worst lightweight I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, except you couldn’t lift her so I ended up doing all the work,” Kuroo jabs you gently with his elbow.

You jab him back, laughing. “It was, like, two in the morning! I was basically passing out myself.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Remember when you had to piggyback me home? In, like, a foot of snow?” you laugh and then stop very suddenly. Kuroo’s expression goes flat. This was not a safe memory. Because he had—

“I remember that,” he whispers.

You open your mouth but you have nothing to say. Maybe you could ignore it, bulldoze through with another recollection, something light and easy. His brows are drawn, his face half-shadowed. You look to your feet and then to your fist that’s still holding onto Makato’s number. You slip it into your pants pocket. You really don’t want to start crying again, not in front of him.

“I told you I loved you,” he says. His eyes are far away, trying to see something beyond the streetlights, beyond the buildings. “For the first time.”

The past tense of the word loved nearly does you in. “Kuroo,” you say. His last name again: distance and maybe a warning. This is thin ice.

He stops walking. After a couple steps you do, too. When you turn to face him, his face is drawn tight.

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“Kuroo,” you say again, firmer this time. That firmness feels like the only thing holding up the wall between the both of you right now.

“Fuck, I’m—” he shakes his head, lets out a short, bitter laugh. “I’m an idiot.”

You don’t know what he means. Or rather you do, but you can’t let yourself go there. It’s been three months since the breakup, and you are not undoing all the progress you’ve made. You can’t. “You’re just a sentimental drunk, too,” you say.

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. You start walking again and after a moment, you hear his steps follow behind you. Another wordless block passes, more tense than the last.

“I’m not just being drunk,” he says, eventually.

You close your eyes briefly. You will yourself not to say anything.

“I’m not just being drunk,” he repeats, and then time reaches and catches your hand in his, tugging you to a stop again. “Hey, wait. Wait.”

“Wait,” you parrot, the word leaving your mouth in a harsh breath. Kuroo lets go of your hand immediately. “For what, exactly?” He stares at you with desperate eyes. You know those eyes. He looked just like this when he was ending things. “What are we doing?” you ask.

You’ve been so close to this question for months, every time he sort-of flirts with you in a passing hallway, every time his eyes linger on yours for too long. Every time you see him, and want him, and you can see the same wanting on his face. And you’ve been scared of the answer, because what if he says nothing? What if all the both of you are doing is prolonging the inevitable end? Would you stand for your heart being broken twice?

You wait for him to say something and when he doesn’t, you wait some more, and you give him more time and another minute more and more, until tears are in your eyes again, blurring the man in front of you. You’ve always given him more time. You think, if this night hasn’t happened, you might have given him all your days. Waiting, waiting. Absurd as it is, you feel the truth of it.

But then what would you have left to give yourself?

“I think,” you start to say and even though your voice trembles, there is a sureness in you that allows you to face him. You wipe at your eyes to see him clearly. Kuroo looks in pain. “Maybe we need some real distance.”

“What do you mean?” There’s a thread of fear in his voice. You swallow hard.

“I mean, after you ended things…” You take a moment to compose yourself. “After you ended things, we never had any breathing room. I never had any time to get over you. And I don’t think,” you say, trying to smile even now, “that we can be very good ‘just friends’ to each other if I’m still trying to get over you. So, maybe, distance. Distance would be good.”

The dismay is plain on Kuroo’s face. He shakes his head like he’s struggling to understand you. “Wait, no —what? I don’t want distance.”

“Kuroo,” you plead.

“This isn’t —fuck, this isn’t what I wanted. I—”

“Listen—”

“I don’t want distance from you—”

“You can’t have it both ways!” you say, finally. You don’t shout it, but your voice has risen, and there is, suddenly, anger in you. “That’s not fair. You can’t break up with me and then still have me.”

Kuroo takes a step back like he’s been struck. His eyes are wide, hurt like you’ve never seen him. You almost take the words back. Almost.

“I didn’t,” he begins and then stops. “I hadn’t thought,” he tries again. But nothing. He’s fighting back something; you can see it.

“It’s confusing to me,” you say, “when you tell me you don’t want me and then do shit like this.”

His jaw flexes. His eyes are almost black in the night. “I never said I don’t want you.”

Whatever effect he thought he’d achieve with those words, it most certainly is the opposite to the frustration you feel now. “Oh my god, then what do you want, Kuroo?” There’s anger and sorrow both, and they’re rising hard in your chest. “What do you want? Because three months ago, you said you wanted to break up. And now you’re saying —what? That you still want me? After everything. After you blindsided me with a breakup and then asked to be friends and I said yes, of all things, I said yes,” the words are rolling out of you, words you had never said to him, were afraid to say to yourself, “and I didn’t even know why you broke up with me! Not really. You just fucking closed yourself off and then ended it one day and I never knew why, I never knew why, I just respected it, because I loved you —I love you— and you couldn’t even tell me why—”

“I was scared,” he says, harsh. You snap your mouth shut, lips trembling. When he speaks again, his voice is barely over a murmur. “I was scared, okay? Of losing you.” He sounds scraped raw.

There’s a moment where you have to register his words before you make a derisive noise, all the anger you had pushed aside for the sake of a friendship kindling in your stomach. You almost say, you’re losing me anyway, but you don’t because then you’d be lying to yourself as well as him and you don’t have it in yourself to be cruel.

Instead, “Are you serious?” You look away from him, shaking your head. “Of all the ridiculous…I was scared too, Kuroo! But I didn’t run away from it, I didn’t pull away from you—” You look back and your voice fades.

There it is again, his tentative heart. It’s in his eyes, the tight press of his mouth. He looked this way when he first asked you out, when he first said he loved you. When he began pulling away. You can’t divorce one from the other: the man that broke your heart is also the man that loved you for almost three years is also the man who makes you angry is also the man now, afraid, and hurting as you’re hurting.

And you know why he’s scared. He’s told you so many times, stories of himself as a young boy, sneaking downstairs in his parent’s house just to overhear all the awful things he couldn’t understand yet. His mother crying, his father leaving for the night. The cold slam of a door, the engine fading in the distance.

Sometimes I think you’re too good, and you’ll disappear. He’s admitted that to you before, in whispers before dawn. You remember it now and your heart turns, the walls you had built against him softening.

Pro of staying friends with your ex? You love him, after it all, despite it all.

Con of staying friends with your ex? You love him, after it all. Despite it all. Because of it all.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper back. “I didn’t mean to get angry and dramatic.”

He gives you a weak smile. “You weren’t being dramatic. And you’re allowed to be angry.”

You stare at each other a long while, the night around you beginning to cool. It’s a block to your dorm. It’s two steps towards Kuroo. Your heart is somewhere between the two.

You break the livewire silence. “I have to hear you say it.”

Kuroo’s eyes turn alert. “Hear me say it?” There’s uncertain hope in him and it kills you.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I have to hear you say what you want. What we’re doing. Because I’m not going be jerked back and forth—”

“I love you,” Kuroo rushes out, desperate. “I love you. I want you. I want you back, I want to earn you back.” His body is aching with the need to hold you, but he stays still and frozen. “And if you don’t feel the same, if I fucked it up then it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll be okay with that, somehow. But if there’s even a chance…”

Of course there’s a chance. You’ve known that for a long time.

There’s something you don’t want to ask. What if you get scared again? But even as think it you realize that’ll always just be a con of love, no matter who it is. That’s the risk of it. The heart can always be broken.

The pro? You think Kuroo might be worth it.

It’s not the end of the conversation, but it’s the beginning of a new beginning. You smile, and then Kuroo smiles because he sees the beginning there, suspended between the both of you.

You take the first step, and he meets you in the middle.

#kuroo x reader #fem!reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo hcs #kuroo haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #angst to fluff #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff

[lexosaurus]

Phic Phight 2022: Black and White Roses

Phic for @gilbirda and @murphy-kitt

Characters: Danny, Valerie WC: 3587 Summary: When he died, he didn't get a memorial service. He didn't get the vigil, the flowers, the headstone. In fact, no one even found his body. No One Knows AU, Full Ghost AU.

[ao3] [ffn]

---

“You’re like the opposite of my sister."

Valerie’s head whipped around. In the past three years that she’d known the ghost, and the past two since their uncanny friendship had begun, he had never offered her any insight into his personal life. She had tried several times to pry, but each question was met either with an uncomfortable stutter or a response so outlandish that not even Dash would have believed it.

Because Valerie knew that he didn’t die from a feral ninja attack thank-you-very-much.

“A sister?” She propped her leg on her hoverboard.

Phantom snorted, flipping on his back and putting his hands under his head. He floated aimlessly around her, a serene smile decorating his lips. “Yeah. She’s this bossy know-it-all genius. You’re way more chill.”

The use of present tense wasn’t lost on Val. “So…she’s alive?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you see her a lot?”

Phantom paused, a thoughtful expression donning his face. “Sort of. She uh, she doesn't live here anymore. She's in a different state now, so it’s harder for me to get there unless I know of a natural portal that’s opening there. I need the Infimap for that, and I can’t ask Frostbite for it too often so, you know how it is.”

Valerie, in fact, did not know how it was, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Dozens of questions popped into her mind, but she held back. Just because Phantom was willing to offer her breadcrumbs, didn’t mean she could get too greedy.

Fortunately for her, he decided to continue on anyway. “She doesn’t know about me. I’m always invisible when I see her. She can’t…”

Alarm bells went off in her head. “Like, she doesn’t know that you were her brother?”

“Yeah.”

Valerie stared. She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it.

Why?

“Do your parents know?”

“No.”

“But you see them too?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

What used to be alarm bells had now escalated to full blaring foghorns. Why? Why did he keep it a secret?

Why not tell them?

She tried to put herself in his family's position, imagining if her mom was still around as a ghost, and chose to keep it from her. That level of selfish cruelty…

But it didn’t make sense. Phantom wasn’t the vicious ghost she had first assumed he was back when she was fourteen. Since they started actually talking, Valerie had come to realize just what a kind and empathetic soul he was, full of that childhood innocence and the belief that people were inherently good.

So why hold this so secret? Why not tell them, why not talk to them? Why pretend like they’ll never see him again?

Valerie swallowed, rehearsing the question in her head. She wasn’t usually one for tact, but even she could see what a delicate situation this was. “Do you mind if I ask why you haven’t told any of them?”

Phantom gnawed on his bottom lip. “It would ruin them.”

She wasn’t sure what kind of response she’d been expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it.

“Ruin them?”

“You know, if they found out that their son turned into…” He swept his hand over his body. “This.”

“I think they’d probably be more relieved that they could talk to you again. I bet they miss you a lot.”

“They do. I know they do. But they still can’t know about me. They…Valerie, they think I’m a monster.”

She felt her eyebrows spike up. Phantom was usually so peppy it made her want to puke rainbows, but this?

This was a whole new side to him she’d never witnessed before.

“Why do you think that?”

He sat up and crisscrossed his legs in the air. His eyes were wide, pleading with her to understand. “You don’t know them like I do. I’ve heard them, I know what they think. My sister, maybe not so much, but my parents would probably kill themselves if they found out.” His voice fell, and he let his bangs cover his eyes. “I know I’m not a monster now. But they don’t. They already lost their kid, I can’t let them know what he turned into. And besides, it’s not like they’d ever believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” Valerie said reflexively.

“Yeah…” Phantom looked back up at the clear night sky.

The twinkling stars seemed almost cruel now.

“And I feel bad because…I don’t know if I should even be saying this.”

“Tell me. I won’t say anything, I swear.”

“Okay.” He breathed out. “Okay. It’s just that no one knows.”

Valerie floundered with a response. “What, that you became Phantom?”

That same puzzled look came back over Phantom’s face, and he refused to make eye contact with her. “Well, that too.”

“Then what?”

“No one knows I died.”

On instinct, Valerie’s hoverboard jerked back. Her eyes widened, and her body felt like she’d just been punched in the gut.

“How?” she choked out.

How could no one know he died?

She always figured he had died tragically. After all, the more powerful the ghost, the more emotions they experience d during their death. And no one who died young and became one of the most powerful ghosts in the Zone did so peacefully.

But she’d never actually sat down and thought about it. And even if she had, there was certainly no way she could have predicted this.

“My body’s still out there,” he continued on. “I keep waiting for someone to find it, but nobody ever has. And I don’t think anyone ever will.”

“Phantom…”

But he was lost in his own little world now. His face twisted sardonically, a dark chuckle at his lips. “I don’t think anyone really tried to find me, to be honest. No one ever cared about me. When I disappeared, I think people were like, ‘oh well, that was bound to happen.’ But it wasn’t. I was…I was just a kid. Still am, I guess.”

“I’m sure people tried,” she offered.

“No.” His voice was sharp, bitter. “They didn’t. Red, I was no one before I was Phantom. I was just some loser kid from a weird home. And when I disappeared, people spent all of two seconds trying to find me before they just gave up. There were no obvious leads, apparently, and no one cared enough to find out. No body, so the cops just assumed I ran away. They don’t really investigate runaways, especially not ones from teens like me. The rejects. Losers, whatever.”

Every sentence felt like a stab in her chest. To hear that he really thought so little of himself? And that apparently he felt like everyone else did too?

Maybe that’s just his restless spirit talking, Valerie said. There was no way that his community truly cared so little that they were just willing to give up like this.

“My sister tried to find me, I think. And my best friend is still looking. Every so often I see him on message boards online still looking. He thinks I’m still alive, I guess.” Phantom brought his knees to his chest, hugging his legs. “It would probably be better if he gave up. Just admit that I’m gone.”

“They care about you,” Valerie said softly. “That’s why they won’t give up. They still have hope that you’re okay.”

“Yeah, well I’m not. I’m a ghost.”

“So does that mean your case is still open?” Valerie asked.

Phantom sighed. “Fuck if I know. I never got a memorial service or anything, so probably. I bet my parents refused to give me a funeral because if they did that, then that would mean my family actually facing the truth.”

“Oh…” Valerie wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. In her eyes, funerals and memorial services were always an act for the living rather than the dead. It was a way for friends and family to remember the life that person lived, to keep them alive in spirit. It was a physical marker for the life they’d lived and the people they’d met along the way.

But based on Phantom’s dejected face and slumped shoulders, it almost appeared like he was hurt he never got one.

When she thought about it, that made sense. Phantom was, supposedly, a forgotten teen. One who apparently no one remembered enough to give a proper investigation to. One whose body had surly disintegrated to bones, who was laying out somewhere still yearning to be found. He had left no mark in his community, in Amity Park.

Of course he would want to be recognized.

“I know it’s selfish for me to want something like that.”

“It’s not,” Valerie said. “It makes sense.”

“I don’t know, I just feel like I never got that one thing that every other dead person gets. Just like a day where everyone gets together and thinks, ‘yeah, this person was alright.’” Phantom shrugged dully. “Maybe it’s better I never got a funeral, though. Then I wouldn’t have to face the truth that no one actually gave a shit I died.”

“Why would you think that?”

Phantom looked at her with a blank expression. When he spoke, it was matter of fact. “‘Cause I don’t think anyone would have shown up.”

—

Organizing the memorial was…surprisingly easy.

In her Red Huntress persona, she approached the city council and proposed the idea. At first, they didn’t seem engaged, simply letting her speak and then sending her on her way. But word spread quickly, and public support caught like wildfire.

Because if there was one thing for certain, it was that over the past few years, Phantom had become a staple in Amity Park. And the majority of the city liked having him around. Once Valerie might have slipped that Phantom was never given a memorial service when he died, it was truly incredible how fast the city rallied around the idea of honoring him now.

People donated their time, money, and resources. The flower shop designed a lovely, intricate bouquet of white and black flowers. A local priest volunteered to run the service. A funeral home offered to help organize the event, the town donated a plot of land in the cemetery, and a fundraiser was set up to purchase a headstone. Flyers were printed, the music was sorted, and everyone seemed excited about the event.

After the ball got rolling, Valerie wondered if Phantom would be angry with her for leaking his wish, for mentioning that he never got a memorial. But Phantom, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the young ghost also seemed excited.

And it wasn’t so much that he said it in words. There was a certain energy around him, an especially prominent glow to his eyes. And when Valerie nonchalantly asked if he was going to the memorial, Phantom almost looked offended that she would imply that he wouldn’t be there.

“Of course, Red!” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be invisible though. I think it’s a bit weird if the dead person is just standing off to the side.”

“That’s a good point.”

And so the week passed and then the next, and before she knew it, the day of the memorial service and candlelight vigil was here.

It was all so beautiful.

His headstone was clean, polished, but not too showy. Engraved in the stone were the markings:

Danny Phantom

Protector of Amity Park

Hundreds of people showed up, all dressed in black, most holding small candles or flowers. But instead of a sea of crying faces, people were happy. They were excited.

Because this wasn’t a goodbye to the dead, this was a celebration of the ghost he had become.

Valerie appeared as the Red Huntress and stood up front. She had donned a black peacoat over her suit, but even with it, the red made her stick out like a sore thumb.

Not that she could complain. This day was about Phantom, not her.

“Over the past few years,” she began. “I’ve gotten to know Phantom. Not just as a ghost, not just as a colleague or ally, but as my friend. He’s a kind soul, and away from the ghost fights, he’s the most gentle spirit I’ve ever encountered. Phantom is a kid who lost his life too young but had enough fighting spirit left in him to come back and continue making the world a better place. I don’t know who he was when he was alive, but all I can say is that I have no doubt he was just as kind and selfless back then as he is now.

“Phantom, if you’re out there, I want you to know that I do care about you. Very much so. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I know we’ve long since moved passed this, but I will forever be grateful for the empathy that you showed me when I was at my lowest. It’s only thanks to you that I’ve been able to grow into who I am today.

“To Phantom!”

Valerie went back down to the side and listened to the other speeches from people who had close encounters with Phantom or people higher in Amity’s city government.

She was surprised when Mr. Lancer stepped up to speak. He told a story that Valerie herself didn’t even know about, of Mr. Lancer showing up to his classroom late after school one day, only to find Phantom himself dozing at a desk.

“When I asked him what he was doing in my classroom, he panicked, but then I invited him to stay. Despite him appearing in my class every other week for a ghost attack, it occurred to me that I’d never had a conversation with young Phantom before then. And what a lovely conversation it was. Hidden underneath that brave face was a joyful teenager, one who had dreams and ambitions of his own, and who saw life and death differently than I did. He was someone who, despite having died young, still had passions and hobbies of his own.

“We’ve spoken several times since then. As I’ve discovered, young Phantom seems to have a certain affinity for coffee. For a young teen such as himself, he is intelligent beyond his years, especially concerning philosophical debates about what it means to be alive, to be human. Phantom may not be human anymore in the technical sense, but the humanity he’s displayed to our city and those in our community stretches far beyond what most have done. I have been honored to get to know him, and I thank him for his service to the betterment of our community.”

The service ended, flowers were piled onto his grave until the plot of land was full, and people began leaving flowers on other graves as well. Soon, the cemetery was filled with roses and other miscellaneous flowers.

Valerie thought it was beautiful.

She didn’t see Phantom at all. True to his word, he stayed invisible throughout the service. But then later when she was out for patrol, maybe it was instinct that caused her to fly by the cemetery.

She was thankful she did because beyond the gates was a glowing, black and white figure. Standing in front of a headstone and a mountain of flowers.

She touched down behind him, not wanting to disturb him while he was clearly lost in thought. Although she tried to make her footsteps as silent as possible as she approached, ghost instincts were better than that.

“Thanks for the speech, Red,” Phantom said. A smile touched his lips. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Please, like I wouldn’t say anything, you little stalker.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Of course.”

She stood next to him, noting how small he was. In the air, it was less noticeable. But on the ground, the disparity was more apparent than ever.

Once upon a time, they had been the same height. Back when they were both fourteen, and she just figuring out how her equipment worked. But now she’d grown, and he hadn’t, forever stuck in a form that died just before he hit his teenage growth spurt.

“Hey…” Phantom said in a tone that either meant he was about to suggest something really dumb, really dangerous, or both. “Can I show you something?”

“Sure?”

“Okay.”

Without another word, he took off.

Valerie was quick to follow, and together the duo flew to the edge of the city where fields and trees met tall buildings. Red flags raised in her mind, and more than once she meant to ask Phantom where they were going, but one look at his face told her better.

She trusted him. Whatever it was, it would make sense when they arrived.

And finally, sometime later, they did arrive. In the middle of nowhere, in a field with tall grass and weeds that grew to heights beyond their own.

“So…” Phantom took a deep breath, shaking out his hands. “Um, this is really weird.”

“So long as you’re not taking me out all this way to kill me, I don’t mind,” Valerie quipped.

Her attempt to lessen the tension in the air seemed to do the trick, and Phantom smiled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, definitely not going to ax murder you.”

Valerie gave him the universal ‘go on?’ gesture.

“Uh, so, you see…” He crouched down and activated his intangibility, sticking his hand into the ground. “This is where my body is.”

Suddenly, her veins filled with ice. “Huh?”

He pulled, and Valerie watched with a mix of horror and fascination as a black trash bag followed his arms out of the ground. It crinkled, and with disgust, she recognized one of the sounds as what could only have been bones clanking in the bag.

She felt lightheaded. “Your body?”

“Yeah, I sort of freaked out when I first died,” he gave a low chuckle, dropping his intangibility. “I think I was afraid my parents were going to be mad? I don’t know. I dumped myself in this field.”

“Jesus Christ.” Valerie stared wide-eyed as the bag lay on the ground unmoving.

“I know it’s really weird. I’m sorry, I just feel like this is the right time.”

“The right time?” Her voice was breathless. “For what?”

“To put myself in the cemetery, of course.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, uh…” Phantom stood, shuffling awkwardly. “Sorry, you don’t have to do anything. I just am gonna phase myself into the ground.”

“Okay.”

Valerie’s eyes did not leave the bag as they flew back. They tracked every crinkle, every jolt, every speck of dirt on the plastic, every curve and spike in the bag where she knew, just a millimeter under it, a dead body was.

She felt sick. Nausea threatened to crawl up her throat, and her hands felt numb. She moved with no purpose, just following Phantom like a puppet back to the cemetery where true to his word, he simply phased that vile bag into the ground.

And then he thanked her for being there for him and left.

Leaving Valerie standing there. Alone.

In front of his headstone, his black and white flowers, his gravesite where his decayed body was resting just a few feet below the surface.

Valerie wasn’t typically one for teenage drinking, not with the threat of ghosts forcing her to be constantly on-call, but her father was out tonight and she had never needed a glass of something alcoholic more than this.

Her grandfather’s old clock ticked away on their wall. It was an hour off, they had forgotten to set it after daylight savings last week, but Valerie didn’t care.

Phantom’s body. She saw Phantom’s body.

The one that was still missing. That his parents didn’t even know existed. That his sister and friend were supposedly still out there looking for. The one that people thought was still alive and just couldn’t find his way home again.

The missing child.

The open case.

And she knew where it was.

She could call this into the police. She should call it in. This was someone’s son, someone’s brother. This was some kid who just disappeared one day. This was a hole in people’s hearts.

This was a dead, decayed body in a trash bag.

But it was Phantom. Her friend. Someone who had his own reasons for never reporting where his body was, someone who had kept it hidden for at least three years, likely more. Someone who could have—at any point—confessed to the entire truth. Who could have given closure to his loved ones.

Who chose not to for his own reasons.

And who was Valerie to decide this for him? To out his ghost persona to his family? Hell, to the entire world?

But this was a dead kid.

Valerie clutched her drink in one hand, and her phone in the other.

She should report this to the police.

Her vision blurred, and she felt tears spill onto her cheeks. She screwed her mouth close, choking back cries of frustration and pain and sadness.

She was Phantom’s friend. If she called, then she would be throwing that friendship away. He would never forgive her. She knew him well enough to understand this with one hundred percent certainty.

She cherished their friendship too much to throw it all away.

The clock ticked louder on the wall, echoing around the silent house.

You should report this.

---

gilbirda's prompt: It would’ve been nice if Danny had gotten the beautiful grave and memorial that he deserved. Instead, no one even found his body. (from danphanwritingprompts)

murphy-kitt's prompt: Valerie bonds with Phantom over his past life. Not an identity reveal.

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #full ghost au #full ghost danny #no one knows #my writing #black and white roses

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

-------------------------------------

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

------------------------------------

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

------------------------------

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #Bob Zanottto #Helmut Fullbear #Lili Zanotto #Razputin Aquato #Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear #psychonauts