#and then assuming that goes well we’ll make it official

[gobbluthbutagirl]

there is like a high probability that i will wind up getting this lead position at my job because my talk with the store director went really well and the problem with this is that i feel the exact same way about this that i did when i got my GED four years ago. and the way that i feel is the way that talk show host by radiohead sounds. which is empty(and nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing)

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Run, pretty girl, run Chapter 2

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

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They drove for hours until it was nearly nightfall.  Bucky pulled off the highway and started taking a complicated route of back roads until they came to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned house.  He reached back and grabbed their bags as Y/N got out of the car.  She stretched, grunting at the heaviness she carried as she walked up to the house, Bucky not far behind her.  He looked around carefully before pushing the doorbell with his flesh thumb.  A small keypad appeared on the side of the doorbell and he punched in a four digit code.  A whirring could be heard as locks moved and the house seemed to wake up.  The door unlocked and he quickly opened it, ushering Y/N inside and shutting it behind them soundly, punching in the code again.

The inside didn’t match the outside, a fully furnished front room that was clean and tidy being lit up as Bucky switched the light on.  He dropped their bags on the couch and headed towards the kitchen to see what food was available.  “I’m sorry we drove so long,” he called out, opening the fridge to a fully stocked spread of food, pulling out ingredients to make something for them both.  “I promised you dinner, so give me a bit and I’ll make something.”

“Okay,” Y/N said quietly.  “I’ll pick a room.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky replied, quickly putting things together.

He heard Y/N rummaging around in the room just down the hall as he made some simple sandwiches, making sure hers was made the way she liked, but with no deli meat.  Bucky had been surprised that that was one of the things pregnant people couldn’t have, and instead made her a play on a grilled cheese.  As he finished the food he put it on the dining room table and got them some drinks.  “It’s ready Y/N!”

Her footsteps scuffled through the hallway and she appeared in the kitchen, already changed into a long sleep shirt.  “Grilled cheese…you know me so well,” she smirked at him, gripping his arm and squeezing it appreciatively.  Bucky smiled as he helped her sit and then sat himself next to her.  They ate in silence, Y/N looking around the kitchen and into the front room absentmindedly.  When she finished she drank a lot of water then sat back tiredly.  “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“More driving.  We’ll probably reach the coast by tomorrow night, then we’ll have to figure out the next best thing.  Flying isn’t really an option with it being so close to your due date,” he said, eyeing her belly.  “So we’ll need to see what kind of boat options are available to us.  Or see if we can get a hold of somebody else who got out who might have more access to resources than us.”

“Like who?” she asked, rubbing her belly worriedly.

“Well, I’m assuming Yelena will be reaching out soon for an update.  Or maybe Shuri.  She’d be the most secure option,” he rattled off, finishing his food and wiping his mouth.  Y/N nodded, her brow furrowed as she contemplated what he was saying.  He licked his lips and reached a hand out again, covering the one on her belly.  “It’s gonna be okay, pretty girl.  We’ll get there before he comes.”

Y/N nodded again, but she didn’t look convinced.  She sighed and looked up at him with a tight smile.  “Yeah, we’ll make it.”

They cleaned up and went to their rooms that were right across the hall from each other.  Y/N turned in her doorway to face him.  “When do you wanna head out?”

“0800 hours?” Bucky asked, yawning and stretching as he leaned against his doorway.

“Sure,” she agreed.  “Well, goodnight Buck.”

“Goodnight, Mamas,” he smiled tiredly at her.  “Sleep well.”  He leaned down to her belly and poked it lightly with his metal finger, making her giggle.  “And you better let her sleep or so help me God–”

“Oh so now you’re threatening my unborn child?” Y/N laughed.

“Damn right I am,” he scoffed, glancing up at her.  He leaned a little closer to her belly, “Watch it,” he grumbled before standing up straight.  

“You’re so dumb,” she giggled again, rubbing her eyes.

“But you love me,” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah yeah,” Y/N rolled her eyes and walked backwards into the room, grabbing the side of the door.  “Sleep well, hot stuff.”

Bucky slightly blushed at the pet name and rolled his eyes back at her.  They both closed their doors and went to bed.

It was a fitful night’s sleep, Bucky feeling constantly on high alert.  Any small noise made him jump, his hand reaching for the one of the three weapons he had placed around him.  At four in the morning he heard something that made him jump out of bed.  It was like a scraping noise coming from outside, and he silently stalked to the window.  He subtly pulled back a part of the blinds and peeked out.  The super soldier serum made it so he could see well in the dark, and outside was a team of agents, fully equipped and dressed for a stealth mission, sneaking around the side of the house.  Bucky gritted his teeth and stopped himself from swearing out loud, slowly moving away from the window, gathering his things and slipping on his shoes before opening his door as quietly as possible.  He snuck into Y/N’s room, gathering her things into her bag before going to her bed.

“Y/N,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently.  Y/N jolted, turning to look at him with wide eyes.  She had obviously had a fitful sleep like he did.  She inhaled and opened her mouth to speak but he covered it with his hand.  “There’s a team outside.  I counted at least 7 on the side of the house.  We need to go.  Now.”

Y/N nodded against his hand, her breathing becoming shaky.  He helped her get up slowly and quietly, slipping her shoes on before guiding her down the hallway to a set of stairs that were hidden in a wall.  They went down the stairs, locking the door in the wall behind them with another keypad.  Under the house was a basement that doubled as an underground garage.  The lights turned on automatically as they walked on down the steps, displaying three vehicle options.  Bucky chose the high speed suburban nearest the exiting door.  This safe house had a mile long getaway underground track that would eventually spit them back out on the highway.  Y/N got in and strapped herself in as Bucky put their bags in the back again.  He started the car, opening the garage door with a button inside the car and driving down the tunnel track.

They went at a normal speed at first so as not to attract attention with a rumble under the dirt.  As they got further away Bucky sped up until they started to see the beginnings of sunrise shining down into where the tunnel started to slope up towards the road.  When they finally drove out of the tunnel they were able to merge onto the empty highway, and Bucky took off like a shot down south.  Y/N looked behind them, making sure no one was in sight.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, turning back around.  “God, how did they find us?”

“My guess, they had some information on Stark’s old safe houses somehow,” Bucky mused, his brow furrowed low with anger.  “We need to call Shuri.”  He fished his burner phone out of his pocket and gave it to Y/N.  “Dial 7 three times.”

Y/N nodded and did as he said, putting the phone on speaker.  After four rings the phone was answered.  “Sergeant Barnes, Бегать,” Shuri’s voice filled the car.  

Both Y/N and Bucky sighed at the sound of her voice.  “Подтвердить,” he replied.

“We’re on a secure line.  Where are you?” she continued.

“Leaving the safe house in Virginia,” Bucky replied.  “They made us.  We’re driving down south as fast as possible.”

“Us?” Shuri asked.

“Hey sweetie,” Y/N spoke up, a small smile on her face.

“Y/N?!” Shuri shrieked.  “Bast, aren’t you due any day now?”

“In 6 days,” Y/N informed her, her voice tense.

“Shit,” Shuri whispered.  “I would send one of our ships to pick you up but we’re being watched by the Americans,” she said quickly.  “Can you make it to the port in Miami by tonight?”

“It’s a bit of a long drive, but yeah, I think we can make it,” Bucky said.  He felt something was off and looked in the rearview mirror, seeing a row of black cars coming from the horizon.  “Fuck!” he yelled, pressing down on the accelerator.

“What?” Shuri asked, Y/N looking back at the road, gasping at the sight of the cars following them.

“We’re being followed,” Bucky growled.  “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Just keep going.  I’ll get the Talon sent now, damn the Americans,” she said, the sound of beeping screens on her end.  “I’m tracking you.  We’ll be there as fast as possible, but it will still take just under an hour.”

Bucky swore again as he tried to think quickly.  They were sitting ducks out here on this long open road.  He pushed even harder down on the gas, the car slightly rattling at how far he was pushing it.  The cars behind them were still a ways off, so if he could just outrun them for a little longer, they’d be able to evade long enough for the Talon to reach them.  “Okay, just get here,” he said, trying to keep breathing evenly.  Panic would only make it worse.  Shuri agreed and ended the call.  

Y/N was starting to hyperventilate, her hands shaking as one held the phone and the other protectively covered her belly, rubbing it up and down.  Bucky glanced at her.  “Hey pretty girl,” he called out to her.  She looked at him frantically.  “We can’t panic, okay?  The Talon will be here soon.  We just gotta keep driving.”  Y/N nodded, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling heavily through her mouth.  He reached under the seat and grabbed the gun hidden underneath.  He handed it to her and she automatically checked to see if it was fully loaded and fire-ready.  He smiled at how strange the sight was of a heavily pregnant ex-agent holding a cocked gun.  “But just in case…you got this Mamas.”

The gun in her hand seemed to somehow calm her, her hands stilling as she focused on the task at hand, her training coming back like second nature.  The cars the agents were driving must have been made for high pursuit, because within twenty minutes he could see them start to close in on them.  Y/N saw them approaching in the side mirror and suddenly unbuckled herself, slipping into the back seat with surprising agility with such a large belly.  She dug into her and Bucky’s bags, pulling out the guns they had and making sure they were all fully loaded.  The first car was coming up on their rear.  Y/N could see one of them roll down their window and point a gun at the car.

“Duck,” she said loudly.

Bucky ducked down just as the first shot rang out, ricocheting off the back window, barely leaving a scratch.  “Gotta love bullet proof glass,” he murmured.

“Roll down the window,” she instructed him.  

Bucky did as she asked and she leaned into the door, slowly holding the gun outside the car window.  She aimed carefully, letting the agents waist their bullets before taking her first shot.  Bucky could see the agent leaning out of the passenger window in the car behind them get hit right between the eyes, his body falling limply out of the window and onto the road, making the first car swerve and the second car try to move and lose control, flying off the highway and into the ditch along the side, rolling a few times.

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked.

Y/N hummed and moved to the other side of the car.  He rolled down that window as well and she aimed at the next agent that was more careful this time in not completely hanging his body out the window.  She was one of the few sharp shooters he’d come across that rivaled Bucky’s prowess as a sniper.  She took a moment to get the perfect shot and the next agent’s head hung limply out of the window.  Y/N took down each shooter one by one, then shot out the engines of two of the cars that tried to come too close with the high power guns hidden inside the car.

The last two cars suddenly accelerated and got on either side of their car.  Bucky rolled up the windows and Y/N sat back far into the seat, keeping herself low.  He tried to speed up but the car was no longer able to go any faster.  The two cars alongside them tried to box them in to slow them down, but Bucky veered into the one on the right, sending them off the road and into the ditch, causing it to roll.  Y/N was bracing herself in the back, twisting to face the other car and keeping the gun steady in her hand.  She saw a panel open on the car on its side, and a thick pole starting to come out of the opening.

“Battering ram!” she screamed, moving to the opposite side of the car as fast as she could.

Bucky looked and saw the pole rear back.  He stepped on the brake to make it so the battering ram would only fit the front of the car, launching himself into the backseat just as it made contact with them.  He tried to wrap himself around Y/N but the car jolted to the right, making it skid at high speed before rolling on the cement then off the road.  The crashing, scraping and glass breaking was deafening.  Bucky felt himself bouncing around the cabin of the car, trying to protect his head then feeling himself fall from the car out the broken front window.  He rolled in the dirt and grass until he finally came to a stop, trying to catch his breath.  He did a quick inventory of himself, moving his fingers, toes, rolling his ankles, wrists, making sure everything could move.  His head was pounding, most likely a concussion, but other than bumps, bruises and scars he was miraculously okay.

He looked around and saw the car a good thirty feet away, upside down and smoking.  He got up and ran over to the car, dropping to his knees and trying to look inside.  “Y/N!  Y/N?” he called out, trying to move debris out of the way to see.  He heard a moan and used his vibranium arm to start ripping at pieces of the car.  After a few minutes he was able to move enough out of the way that he could see Y/N.  She was wedged between the roof of the car and the backseat that had warped in the crash, pushing against her belly dangerously.  Bucky gasped and crawled into the car.  “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted her, trying to keep his voice calm.  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.  “Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, looking around in shock.  “Yeah,” she said simply.

“Okay, do an inventory,” he instructed her.  “Where’s the pain?”

Y/N subtly moved her fingers, wrists, toes and ankles like he had done, slightly rolling her neck.  “Just…sore, but my stomach hurts real bad,” she said, looking down.  She gasped when she saw the seat pressed hard against her pregnant belly.  “Buck!  Get it off!”

“I’m trying, Mamas, just give me a second,” he said, then felt someone pulling at his feet.  “Fuck!  NO!” he screamed as multiple hands started pulling at his feet and legs, pulling him away from Y/N.  She reached out for him but he was too far.  He was hoisted out of the car, surrounded by multiple men.  He swung, taking out two with his vibranium arm before kicking the two behind him.  He fought hard, but they were nearly meeting him in strength, taking him by surprise.  The fighting was making his head pound harder at the exertion.  One particularly hard punch to one of the agents’ faces produced a dark green blood to spurt from his lip.  Bucky looked at him in shock.

“Enough Sergeant Barnes!” one of them yelled out.

He turned and saw one of the agents knelt down by the car, pointing his gun at Y/N, who was struggling to push off the seat on her.  “Don’t,” he stepped forward.

The agent pushed his hand into the car through the broken window, pushing the gun against her head, making her freeze.  “Come with us, and she gets to live,” he sneered.

Bucky glared at him, assessing the situation.  He was starting to feel queasy at the pressure in his head, and he blinked rapidly, panting breaths as he looked around at all of them.  Then he heard it…a sound above them that the others hadn’t heard or recognized.  He smirked.  “No, we’re leaving,” he said.

The agent looked at him puzzledly before he suddenly stiffened, an electric shock going through him, falling with a thud to the dirt.  The other agents looked around in panic, shouting at each other as each of them were shocked and fell.  The air vibrated above Bucky as he looked up and the cloaking on the Talon cleared away to reveal itself.  He heaved a sigh of relief and ran back to the car.  He lifted it enough to help free Y/N from being pinned against the seat, her body falling to the roof of the car.  She slowly crawled her way out and he dropped the car before picking her up and running toward the Talon as it opened the stairway.  He helped get her seated before turning to the motherboard.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri’s voice echoed through the cabin.  “Are you both alright?”

“Alive,” Bucky replied.  “Just set course for Sibiu, Romania.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come here?” she asked.

“I’d love to, but the checkpoint is Sibiu,” he said quickly, rubbing his temple.  

A chittering sound was heard and then a scan of both of them appeared momentarily.  “Barnes, you’re going to want to come here first.”

“It’s just a concussion, I’ll heal,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Not for you,” Shuri replied quietly.

Bucky froze and then looked behind him at Y/N.  She wasn’t moving, one hand settled on her heart and the other on her belly, her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly agape.  “O-okay,” he agreed, and the Talon moved.  He walked over to her and kneeled down in front of her.  “What’s wrong, Mamas?” he asked cautiously.

Y/N blinked.  “He’s not moving.”

Bucky swallowed harshly.  “I’m sure he’s just resting after all we just went through.”

Y/N shook her head.  “Scan fetus,” she called out loudly to the Talon.

The system on board chittered again before speaking in a clear Xhosa accent.  “Scan complete.  Fetus has suffered from a placenta abruption and fetal trauma.  Fetus is, unfortunately, deceased.”

Y/N’s eyes shut tight, a shaky huff falling from her lips.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  Her hands fell away from her belly and her chest, hanging limply at her sides as her head leaned back against the wall behind her.  Bucky blinked rapidly, staring at her still very pregnant belly.  Dead?  The baby was just…gone?  All those doctors appointments, the long nights crying over her boyfriend up and leaving her, how she and Bucky had gushed over how cute the baby clothes and accessories were, getting the nursery ready that she would now never use, all of it just…done.  Y/N looked like she physically deflated at the news, but there were no tears.  Bucky watched her carefully as he reached up and took one of her hands.  

“Pretty girl,” he said, rubbing her knuckles.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

She didn’t react, her eyes still closed as she breathed evenly.  “It’s okay,” she murmured.  “Would have slowed us down, anyway.”

Bucky blinked at her in surprise, but he knew that this was her way of coping at the moment.  If there was anything they had learned about each other while being mission partners was being able to read one another, knowing each other’s tells, ticks, what buttons not to push, and in moments of severe trauma or pressure how they coped.  She wasn’t feeling safe enough to grieve just yet, so he didn’t push it.  He just leaned forward and laid his head on her knee, his other hand gripping her ankle.  She inhaled deeply at that, and her free hand reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp like she would during his worst nightmares.  They sat like that the whole way back to Wakanda.

@vioplay19 @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @tufflepuff23

[trashogram]

It's even worse for Crimson as being a villain, he's completely wasted. Given how Moxxie acts, personality wise and the like, he has the ruthless side of him(with killing) yet he's intelligent and caring. You'd think these would come about due to his upbringing by both of his parents.

But then we finally get around to it and we see Moxxie's mom is dead and not recently either and Crimson....is a complete dumbass and also an asshole.

This would have been a good side story, to showcase that Moxxie comes from a grey morality family, which is why his personality is the way it is.

His mother is that kind and sweet caring figure, his father is that ruthless and hardass figure, yet somehow, someway the two still love eachother. I feel this also would actually add to Hell as far as the daily life goes and struggles between morality.

The Mafia/Mob, while obviously there's a bunch of assholes within it, that doesn't mean that's all there is to these guys. They wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the power that they had in the 20th Century, if they weren't smart about what they were doing, if they didn't have some sort of code or honor system. As ruthless as Mobsters can be, not all of them are assholes...for the sake of being assholes.

There are laws that had to be followed(different from policies that each Family may have had, so those varied between). Michael Franzese is a huge, good source on the Mafia life and it's a lot more complicated than one might realize.

Crimson comes across as a dumbass, because he didn't check Chaz' finances...when they were in his car, unlocked....on the property. He's head of the Mob and doesn't do the most common sense thing ever, checking someone out before you take their word at face value.

It also comes across as such, that this is somehow the ONLY way to get money. ...Crimson...my guy, HOW are you head of anything in Greed?

No one becomes the Head of the Mafia, if they are so stupid that they don't have fingers in the pockets of...just about everyone they come across, if they don't strategize and have many, many, many different ways of making money.

They introduce us to Crimson as if he's some big shot, with the huge house, the helicopter and all the goons....and yet all that is thrown away when we learn that he's in heavy debt. So how are you paying all your men? How are you paying for any of your supplies? But then they take it a step further with Crimson being a dumbass, by forcing his son to marry Chaz(who he hates) and is just taking the latter's word that he's rich....so you're not going to check the guy who you HATE and make sure he's telling the truth? Crimson you have no right to be pissed at Moxxie, for you being an idiot.

Didn't mean to go on this long spiel I guess, I'm just now worried for when we get into Hazbin...in how Angel's Mafia Family is going to be portrayed, especially when we know it'd at least be early 20th Century of when they were alive. Which means, they should be well organized and have significant power.

....Also Moxxie's mother deserved way better than being killed. I wanted her alive, there was so much potential to have this contrast between Millie's parents and Moxxie's parents and....we didn't get that. ...Also I WANT HER OFFICIAL NAME!

GIVE MOXXIE'S MOM AN OFFICIAL NAME!

Crimson is so deep in debt that he had to take out his brain and put it up for collateral.

It’s the only way to explain why he’s such an audacious idiot that I have to assume failed upward. Or we could blame it on the real problem, which is that Vivienne Medrano decided one day that she wanted to turn a gay wattpad fanfic into an episode of Helluva Boss regardless of how dumb the idea was and no one stopped her.

Exes and Oohs hurts my brain with how preposterous it is, dude. How does marriage work in Hell?? Why the fuck are there priests in Hell that can officiate marriages?!

As for Angel Dust — God, is being from a mafia family even part of his character anymore? Oy vey we’ll probably find out before we spend anymore time on Charlie in Hazbin Hotel.

(I’m gonna call Moxxie’s mom Marzia. It’s cute. Not holding out for the show to actually give her a name.)

[shinyspooks]

fic where Danny gets sick and in a move of fever-riddled “genius” he decides that his best move to keep protecting the town would be to split himself using the Ghost Catcher again- because obviously the illness is likely coming from his human half, so his separated ghost half should be perfectly fine, and be able to protect the city for a couple of days until his human half is well enough to fuse back together.

Obviously this leads to Fun and Super again, but the issue is, Danny is wrong, his ghost half is also sick, but Super is super in denial about it, since Danny himself was so convinced his ghost half couldn’t be ill. Fun Danny doesn’t pick up on this and just goes back to bed and leaves Super Danny to do his own thing which. Is an issue due to the fact that it is painfully obvious to anyone Super runs into that he is not well.

People genuinely assume that the whole alliteration and bedsheet cape thing are literally due to Phantom having a high fever to the point of delirium (not entirely wrong, he does have a high fever and it is making him a lil bit loopy, but also not entirely why he’s Like That Right Now). Still though, he has enough of a grasp on What’s Happening to know that when Maddie and Jack show up he should pretend to be Normal.

He fails MISERABLY.

Jack and Maddie have been kinda,, easing up on their views on ghosts, but there’s no like official truce/alliance between them and Phantom yet (and I think it’d be really funny if this was the scenario that started it) but they see a very obviously sick Phantom and are like. Well. From what we concluded this shouldn’t be possible. Suppose we’ll have to bring Phantom back and use this as a kinda case study while we make him healthy again.

And they proceeded to capture Super in one of their ghost nets/ropes and drag him back to Fentonworks kicking and screaming and alliterating threats the whole way (said alliterated threats are slowly devolving into straight up nonsense).

Fun is in the kitchen when they get back, drops an orange juice carton upon seeing Super, and proceeds to book it back upstairs because fuck it he’s not dealing with this. He’s going to sit in his bed and play games and ignore the situation of his ghost half yelling and squirming while his parents try to stick a thermometer in his mouth.

Eventually both Fun and Super recover- but the problem is, obviously, Super is still acting like Super. Which worries Maddie and Jack, cause like, the fever’s gone, so why is Phantom still acting like  this??? Could whatever illness he had leave permanent side effects???

Thankfully Fun and Super use that night to fuse back into normal Danny. He has to sit through an unbearably long interaction with his parents as Phantom as they re-check him over, but ultimately since he’s acting normal now he’s free to go. 

....They do warn him to come to them at the first sign of illness so he doesn’t go running around town wearing a bedsheet cape again though.

[ichorai]

blueberries ; three.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with lumpy potatoes, new years parties, and mother-kissers. wc ; 9.0k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, reader wears a dress but obv still gn, and a new love interest !!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Chandler asked Joey as the actor sauntered into Central Perk, sinking into a chair beside you. 

“Yes, sir, I am,” replied Joey, rolling up his sleeves with a smirk. “As of today, I’m officially Joey Tribbiani: actor-slash-model.”

Snorting, Chandler piped, “That’s so funny, because I was thinking you look more like Joey Tribbiani: clown-slash-mime.”

You wanted to laugh, but you kept a straight face, sending Joey a reassuring grin. “Don’t listen to him, you look great!” Tilting your head to inspect him further, you added, “Though—your foundation could be a shade darker, you look like a ghost!”

“What were you modeling for, anyway?” asked Phoebe.

“Well, you know those posters for the City Free Clinic?” he asked excitedly.

Monica gasped, “Oh, wow! So you’re gonna be one of those healthy, healthy, healthy guys?”

Practically dripping with pride, Joey struck a ridiculous modeling pose, which made the rest of you scoff with laughter. 

“The asthma guy’s really cute,” you chimed. When Joey sent you a glare, you were quick to tack on, “And you’ll definitely give him a run for his money!”

“You know which one you’re gonna be?” asked Chandler.

“No,” the actor-slash-model sighed. “But I hear lyme disease is open, so…”

Patting Joey’s shoulder, Chandler said, “Good luck man, I hope you get it.” That earned strange looks from the rest of you while Joey just beamed brightly, blissfully oblivious to his phrasing.

It was then that Ross stormed in, a strained mope marring his features. He sank into a chair with a heavy sigh, prompting you to roll your eyes and ask, “What’s wrong now, Ross?”

“Monica told me mom and dad weren’t spending Thanksgiving here—and I didn’t believe her at first, but it turns out she was right. How could they do this to us?”

Sighing, the black-haired woman proposed, “How about I cook Thanksgiving dinner at my place? I’ll make it just like Mom’s!”

“Will you make the mashed potatoes with lumps?” he asked.

Monica hesitated. “You know they’re not actually supposed to have—” She cut herself short at Ross’ sour expression. “Fine, I’ll work on the lumps! What are the rest of you doing tonight? Joey, you’re going home, right?”

From beside you, he nodded enthusiastically, excited to finally go back home and visit his parents.

“And I assume, Chandler, you’re still boycotting all the Pilgrim holidays?”

The man snorted. “Yes, every single one of them,” he sarcastically quipped.

“Pheebs, you’re going to be with your grandma?”

“Yeah, and her boyfriend. But we’re celebrating Thanksgiving in December because he’s lunar, so—”

Slightly confused, Monica asked, “So you’re free Thursday, then?”

“Yeah, why?” replied Phoebe, equally miffed before realization dawned upon her. “Oh, can I come?” 

Monica nodded with a grin. “And Rachel’s planning on going to Vail—so what about you, Y/N?”

Tracing the rim of your teacup with a finger, you pursed your lips to the side in thought. “I think I’ll be free! You have room for one more?”

Ross crossed his arms in Monica’s kitchen, making him look abnormally burly in his chunky, woolen sweater. “If she’s talking to it, I just think I should get some belly time, too!” he complained. “Not that I believe in any of this.”

“I do,” you chimed, helping Monica season the turkey in the kitchen. “Babies begin developing ears well before thirty weeks, so I’m sure they’d be able to hear a little bit of what goes on outside the womb.”

Phoebe nodded her agreement. “I think babies can totally hear everything! Here, lemme show you, Ross—this might seem a little weird, but you put your head inside this turkey and then we’ll all talk and you’ll hear everything we say!”

“I’d like to say that I’m totally behind this experiment,” said Chandler. “In fact, I’d very much like to butter your head.”

You snorted in laughter, before turning to see Rachel walking into the apartment, sulking. 

“Hey, Rach,” you greeted, hopping up to grab her coat for her. She sent you a half-hearted smile. “Did you make enough money to go to Vail?”

“Forget Vail,” she sniffled. “Forget seeing my family, forget shoop, shoop, shoop.” She mimicked skiing down the snow as tears pricked her eyes. 

From the kitchen, Monica handed you the envelope, and you tapped Rachel’s shoulder. “Hey, honey, you’ve got some mail.”

“Just leave it on the table,” she replied, burying her face in her hands.

“I think you’re gonna want to see this,” you responded softly. When Rachel didn’t move, you rolled your eyes and smacked her arm lightly. “Now!”

She jolted in shock, before snatching the mail from you with a mildly offended look. The expression immediately melted away when she ripped it open, pulling out crisp dollar bills. “Oh, my God! You guys are great!” she exclaimed, lunging forward to drape her arms around you and pull you into a hug so tight that it was a wonder your ribs didn’t cave under the pressure.

“We all chipped in,” you assured her. “Except Ross, who now owes me twenty bucks.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, before pulling away and streaking into her room, yelling out something about packing her suitcase. 

When she was gone, Monica headed back to the kitchen, shoving a bag full of goodies into Chandler’s awaiting arms. “Here you go, your standard holiday feast—canned tomato soup, grilled cheese fixings, and a family-size bag of Funyuns for one!”

“You sure you want to spend Thanksgiving alone?” you asked him, peering into the bag with distaste. “What is it with you and this holiday, anyway? I never got around to asking—honestly I was too scared to know the answer.”

Sighing, Chandler placed his hand on your shoulder. “Alright, I’m nine years old—”

Ross and Monica and Phoebe all groaned, muttering how much they absolutely hated this story.

“We’ve just finished Thanksgiving dinner. I have, and I remember this part vividly, a mouthful of pumpkin pie. And this is the moment my parents choose to tell me they’re getting divorced.”

“Oh,” you said. “Oh, my God, Chandler, I’m so sorry.”

Holding a finger up, Chandler shook his head. “Ah, but it gets worse—you see, it’s really hard to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner again when you’ve seen it in reverse.”

He began miming throwing up all over you, and you wrinkled your nose, bile rising up your throat.

“Oh, stop! You’re going to make me puke, too!”

There was a knock on the door, and before anybody could get up to answer it, Joey walked into Monica’s apartment, shoulders slumped.

“Jo?” you asked. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were spending Thanksgiving with your family?”

“They think I have VD,” he sighed, moving to pull you away from Chandler who had frozen mid-puke, and wrapping you up in a tight hug. 

A bit surprised, you awkwardly patted his back, mouthing to Chandler to shut up when he began to say, “Be careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want you to get VD, too!” With a stout nod, Chandler bid himself adieu, claiming that he needed to ‘get away from all the merriment’. 

When Joey finally let you go, he wound his way into the kitchen, following Monica around like a lost puppy as she cooked. “Hey, Monica, I got a question—I don’t see any tater tots.”

“That’s not a question,” she replied, cocking a sharp brow at him.

“But my mom always makes ‘em—it’s like a tradition! You get a little piece of turkey on your fork, a little cranberry sauce… and a tot!” huffed Joey, sitting down at the kitchen table by Ross. “It’s bad enough I can’t be with my family, you know—because of my disease that I don’t actually have.”

Rolling her eyes, Monica blew out a heavy sigh. “Alright, fine. Tonight’s potatoes will be both mashed with lumps for Ross, and in the form of tots for Joey.” 

The two men grinned at each other victoriously, fist-bumping beneath the table. 

“I’m off to talk to my unborn child! I’ll be back before dinnertime,” announced Ross, grabbing his coat, waving goodbye to the rest of you and disappearing out the door. 

You took his spot at the kitchen table, resting your arm on Joey’s shoulder as the two of you watched Monica berate Phoebe for whipping the potatoes.

“Ross needs lumps!”

“Oh, well,” the blonde started sheepishly, “I thought we could have them whipped and then add some peas and onions.”

Frustration flooded across Monica’s features. “Why would we do that?”

“Then they’d be, uhm, be just like how my mom used to make it before she died,” said Phoebe, which made Monica blanch out of part-guilt and part-exasperation.

“Okay, three kinds of potatoes coming up! Unless you have a specific kind of mashed potatoes, too, Y/N?” she glared at you expectedly, eye twitching.

You raised your hands in a placating manner. “No, ma’am, I’m fine with whatever you’re making.”

The glare melted away and was replaced by one of relief. “You’re officially my favorite.”

Right at that moment, Rachel stumbled out of her room haphazardly carrying about half a dozen bags that looked to be on the verge of breaking open because of how stuffed full they were. She was beaming radiantly nonetheless, rushing to the door. 

Before she could leave, however, Chandler ran back into Monica’s apartment, out of breath and blurting out, “The most unbelievable thing just happened! Underdog has gotten away!”

Joey’s eyebrows quirked upwards. “The balloon?”

Chandler shot him a sharp look, before leering, “No, the actual cartoon character. Of course the balloon! It’s all over the news—he broke free and was spotted flying over Washington Square Park! I’m goin’ to the roof, who’s with me?”

All of you began bolting for the door, except Rachel, who lamented that she had to leave for her flight.

“Come on, Rach, an eighty-foot balloon dog is flying loose over the city? You don’t wanna miss that!” you exclaimed, tugging her along. She reluctantly followed after all of you, dropping all her bags to the floor. 

“Got the keys!” exclaimed Monica as all of you rushed out her apartment.

“That moment when we first saw the giant shadow fall over the park!” squealed Rachel, eyes sparkling. “I felt like I was in one of those big action movies!”

You chuckled. “Yeah, and the big bad villain was an inflatable balloon in the shape of a smiling dog.”

“But did they really have to shoot him down?” asked Phoebe. “That was just mean.”

The group arrived in front of Monica’s door. 

“Okay, right about now the turkey should be crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside! Why are we all just standing here?” she said, rubbing her hands together anxiously.

“We’re waiting for you to open the door,” said Rachel in a ‘duh, isn’t it obvious?’ tone. “You’ve got the keys.”

Monica blinked. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. When we left, you said you got the keys!”

“I didn’t!” Monica’s voice went shrill. “I asked if you had the keys!”

“No, no, your voice went all flat at the end, like you already got the keys!” Rachel stressed, her own tone getting higher to match Monica’s.

“Do either of you have the keys?” Chandler unhelpfully asked, exaggerating the last word. 

Panicked, Monica jangled the doorknob. “The oven is on!”

“I gotta get the money and my bags!” Rachel cried out. “I’m gonna miss my flight!”

“Oh!” said Joey. “We have a copy of your key in our apartment, right?”

“THEN GET IT!” Monica screeched, which made the two men step back out of shock.

“Alright, jeez, that tone won’t make me go any faster, you know?”

At the raven-haired woman’s withering glare, Joey bolted into his apartment to grab an entire box full of keys, which made the rest of you groan in exasperation.

After about ten minutes of trying out different keys, Monica bit out, “Can’t you go any faster with that?”

“I got one keyhole and about a zillion keys—you do the math!” he replied, tossing another unfit key back into the box. 

“Why do you guys have so many keys in there anyway?” barked Rachel.

“Hm, for an emergency just like this?” deadpanned Chandler.

Rachel was practically vibrating with frustration at this point, grabbing Chandler by the lapels of his button-down shirt and yanking him down threateningly. “Alright, listen here, smirky! If it wasn’t for you and your stupid balloon, I would be on a plane watching a woman show me where the emergency exits are right now! But I’m not!”

“God, I swear I asked if you had the keys,” sulked Monica. 

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t say I had the keys unless I had the goddamn keys! I obviously didn’t have the keys!”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Really, guys, there’s no point in arguing about it anymore—blaming someone won’t make the door magically open.”

Ignoring you, Monica rounded back to Rachel, hissing, “Why would I have the keys? You were the last one out!”

“Because you said you had them!” Rachel replied, practically screaming at this point. Joey momentarily stopped trying to jam random keys into the door to watch them fight, but you swatted his arm to get him back to work. 

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Why? Because everything is my responsibility? Isn’t it enough that I’m making Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? Yeah, everyone wants a different kind of potato, so I’m making different kinds of potatoes! Does anybody even care what kind of potatoes I want? No! Just as long as Phoebe gets her peas and onions, and Joey gets his tots, and Chandler gets to watch from the side, and Ross gets his gross potato lumps and—and—it’s my first Thanksgiving all on my own and now it’s all burnt and I can’t—” She burst into a mess of tears and running mascara, and you shook your head sympathetically, walking to her to wind your arms around her and comfortingly pat her on the back. 

She hiccupped into you, about to hug you back when Joey said, “Hey, I got the door open!”

Monica ripped herself away from you and shot into her apartment, leaving you blinking in surprise. 

“Thanks for being there for me, Y/N, you always know how to make me feel better!” you muttered under your breath, before following the rest of the group in. 

The apartment was full of smoke, the stench of burned poultry lingering in the air. You waved your hand in front of your face just as Monica yanked the oven open and threw the ruined meal onto the counter. “Well, turkey’s burnt! Potatoes are ruined, potatoes are ruined, and potatoes are ruined!”

It was then that Ross strode into the apartment, whistling a merry tune beneath his breath, before noticing the smoke and the sullen expressions. “This doesn’t smell like Mom’s,” he quipped, which earned him a cuff to the shoulder. 

“No, it doesn’t,” grouched Monica. “But you know what, Ross? You want lumps? Here, you got one!” She yanked one of the burned, hardened no-longer-mash potatoes out of its bowl, waving it around with a manic look to her eye.

From across the room, Rachel slammed the phone onto the coffee table, screaming out, “God, this is just great! The plane is gone, so I guess I’m stuck here with you guys!”

Joey crossed his arms. “We all had better plans, okay? This was nobody’s first choice.”

You winced—technically this had been your first choice, but you opted to remain quiet.

“Really?” said Monica, clearly hurt. “So why was I busting my ass to make this delicious Thanksgiving dinner!?”

“You call that delicious?” Ross gruffed. 

The entire group erupted into screams and accusations and loud arguments.

You sighed, moving to the door, where Chandler was leaning. 

“Now this feels like Thanksgiving,” he whispered to you, which made you snort in laughter. 

“Guys, look!” Phoebe exclaimed from the window, interrupting everybody’s yelling. “Ugly Naked Guy’s taking his turkey out of the oven!”

Everybody was in too sour of a mood to care, until—

“Oh, my God. He’s not alone! Ugly Naked Guy is having Thanksgiving dinner with Ugly Naked Gal!”

All of you bolted to the window, both cooing at how cute they were and how gross it was at the same time. 

“Ugly naked dancing!” Monica pointed out, a smile breaking out across her face. 

“It’s nice that he has someone,” said Phoebe.

The rest of you sighed, before looking at each other fondly.

Soon after, all of you were seated at the kitchen table, watching Chandler cut grilled cheese sandwiches in half.

“Who wants light cheese and who wants dark cheese?” he asked.

“I don’t even wanna know what’s in the dark cheese,” replied Ross as he grabbed half of a sandwich. 

“You wanna split with me, Jo?” you asked, holding up an uncut sandwich.

Phoebe clapped her hands. “You guys have to make a wish! You know, like a turkey wishbone!”

With a smile, you held out the grilled cheese to Joey, and he clutched the other side, before pulling. He ended up with the bigger half, a wide grin split across his handsome features.

“What’re you wishing for?” you asked, biting into your smaller portion.

“Duh, the bigger half,” Joey replied, which made you kick him beneath the table. He tilted his head. “What would you have wished for?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m really happy with what I have now,” you smiled at him, before turning to look at Chandler, who was clinking a fork against his glass. 

He cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t exactly the kind of Thanksgiving any of you had planned, but for me this has been really great. Mostly because it didn’t involve divorce or, you know, projectile vomiting. I was just thinking if Rachel had gone to Vail, or if you guys had been with your family, or if Joey didn’t have… syphilis and stuff, we wouldn’t be all together. I guess what I’m trying to say is—I’m very grateful all of your Thanksgivings sucked.”

The rest of you raised your glasses. 

“Here’s to a lousy Christmas,” said Ross.

“And a crappy New Year!” you chimed, before taking a long sip. 

“Hi, guys,” you greeted everybody as you sat down beside Ross on Central Perk’s largest couch. “I’ve got news!”

Ross was just about to ask what it was when Rachel came with a steaming cup of tea for you, smiling softly. “Hey, Y/N! Do you guys know what you’re doing for New Years?”

Suddenly, the entire group threw their arms up in the air, groaning loudly. 

“Jeez, what? What’s wrong with New Years?”

“Nothing for you, you have Paolo!” Chandler replied hotly. “You don’t have to face the horrible pressures of this holiday—the desperate scramble to find anything with lips just so you can have somebody to kiss when the ball drops! Man, I’m talking loud!”

Frowning, Rachel cocked her head. “For your information, Paolo’s gonna be in Rome this New Years, so I’ll be just as pathetic as the rest of you!”

“I am so sick of being a victim of this Dick Clark holiday! I say this year, no dates—we make a pact. Just the seven of us, dinner,” proposed Chandler, spreading his arms out invitingly. 

As the rest of them chimed their reluctant agreement, you winced, setting your tea down. “Sorry, Chandler.”

“Sorry? What do you mean, sorry?” he asked.

“Sorry, as in I already have a date for New Years.” Your words were a little hushed, and you sank further into the sofa out of mild embarrassment.

The entire group seemed to double-take at your words, practically bursting at the seams with questions.

“Who?” Joey asked.

“A guy from work—his name’s Connor, and he’s one of the head researchers for quantum photonics,” you said in response, playing with the fraying threads of your sweater. “I’m not even in that field but I’ve become more or less his consultant and peer reviewer for his papers and just this morning, he came up to me with flowers and asked me to be his date for New Years, and gosh, I just felt like a giddy teenager, you know?”

Monica slapped your arm, an excited smile spread across her lips. “That’s great, Y/N!”

“What does he look like?” asked Phoebe.

“He’s got the most gorgeous dark hair, and soft brown eyes,” you began describing, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “And he’s just so soft-spoken, you know? Honestly, I never really saw him in a romantic light until he came up to me this morning and it all just came rushing at me—it’s honestly a bit too good to be true.”

Joey scoffed. “Yeah, especially after the last person you were with.”

Stiffening, you clenched your jaw and shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Who was the last person?” Ross queried.

Purposefully, you dodged his question and said, “Well, good luck with your no-date pact! I’d love to spend New Years with you guys, but—”

“Why don’t you bring him?” asked Rachel.

“No! No, it’s for single people only, that was the whole point!” Chandler butted in.

With a sour glare, Monica said, “Come on, it’s Y/N! The last time we’ve met one of their partners was… come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone you’ve dated. We can make an exception, Chandler. Just one. Besides, I’d really love to meet this Connor guy!”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Just Y/N, but that’s it.”

The next day, the entire group was gathered in Monica’s apartment, helping her decorate a small Christmas tree. Joey wasn’t here, however, having gotten a job as a helper elf at a local mall. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him being upset with you, he’d barely spoken a word to you ever since they had made the date-pact yesterday, but you tried not to read too much into it.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you yet!” Rachel told you. Untangling the silver tinsel, you wrapped it around the pine on Monica’s coffee table. “God, by my sixth date with Paolo, he’d already named both my breasts!”

You blinked in surprise. Ross made a choking noise from beside you.

“Ooh, did I just share too much?”

Ross huffed out of his nose. “Just a smidge.”

Hanging up another ornament, you shrugged. “I don’t know—I kinda like that he’s taking it slow, you know?”

Phoebe nodded enthusiastically. “David hasn’t kissed me either—are all scientist guys like that? Very methodical.”

You remembered Phoebe mentioning that she was seeing a physicist. “I can assure you, Pheebs, not all scientist guys are like that. A lot of them don’t waste any time with sex, much less kissing!”

“I think it’s romantic,” Monica chimed.

You smiled softly. “It’s really nice. Connor is just—he’s just so nice and smart and gentle and sweet. When he looks at me it feels… I don’t know, I just forgot what it feels like to be wanted by someone else, you know?”

Phoebe sank into a chair, grinning like a lovesick fool. “I know what you mean. I just want to be with him all the time, you know? Day and night, and night and day. And, uhm… special occasions…”

With an exaggerated gasp of betrayal, Chandler pointed an accusing finger at her. “Wait a minute—I see where this is going. You’re gonna ask him to New Years! You’re gonna break the pact!”

“No!” Phoebe vehemently exclaimed. After a moment’s pause, she sheepishly asked, “Can I, though?”

With a defeated sigh, Chandler propped his hands on his hips. “Yeah, cause I already asked Janice.”

“What?” you asked, nearly dropping a fragile ornament you’d been holding. “Chan, the entire pact was your idea.”

“I snapped, okay? I couldn’t handle the pressure and I snapped!”

Monica shook her head. “Janice, though? That was, like, the worst breakup in history!”

“Well, I’m not saying it was a good idea, I’m saying I snapped!” Chandler defended, face reddening.

The door to Monica’s apartment swung open, and Joey strode in, dressed head-to-toe in a ridiculous array of bright green, red, and white fabric that came together into a shoddy elf costume. His shoes were pointy and little bells hung off the ends, and jangled with every step he took. 

“Too many jokes,” Chandler gritted out, doubling over as he suppressed the urge to make fun of his roommate. “Must mock Joey!”

“Oh, stop it,” you said, grinning at him. “I think he makes a handsome elf.”

Strange, you thought. Joey almost completely ignored your comment, opting to head back to his apartment, claiming that he had to change because around a dozen kids sneezed on him during his shift.

Back at Central Perk, Ross was throwing a fit after Monica had told everybody that she had also caved and asked Fun Bobby to be her date for New Years.

“Okay, so on our no-date evening, four of you now have dates!” he grumbled. 

Raising his hand, Joey said, “Uh, five.”

You raised your eyebrows, but you weren’t really surprised. Joey had an uncanny knack for getting random strangers to fall in love with him.

Rachel bowed her head, also saying, “Six. Sorry, Paolo’s catching an early flight!”

“Yeah, and I met this really hot single dad at the mall. What’s an elf to do?”

Before you could question him further, Ross buried his face into his palms. “Okay, so I’m gonna be the only one standing there alone when the ball drops?”

“Come on, Ross! We’ll have a big party, and no one will know who’s with who!” Rachel reassured him.

“Ugh, this is the last thing I needed right now! Marcel’s shutting me out, and now this.”

It took you a moment to realize that Ross was talking about a monkey that he had gotten, which you believed was really to fill the lesbian-wife-shaped hole in his heart, but you never vocalized those thoughts. 

“Why’s Marcel shutting you out?” you questioned.

“I don’t know, he’s moping around all the time, dragging his hands.”

You bit back the urge to say like owner, like pet, but bit down on your tongue and sipped on your tea. 

“That’s so weird,” Chandler added. “I had such a blast with him the other night when you asked me to petsit! We played, we watched TV—that juggling thing is amazing!”

Ross blinked. “What, uh… what juggling thing?”

“With the balled-up socks? I figured you taught him that.”

A muscle ticked in Ross’ jaw. “No.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Chandler said placatingly. “It was just a couple socks… and a melon.”

The party at Monica’s place was in full swing. 

You had shown up early with Connor, an assorted tray of nearly-burnt homemade cookies in hand. Everybody was fawning over Connor, and he was a doll the entire evening, constantly keeping a warm hand on your lower back and whispering sweet compliments into your ear that made you swoon like a seasick sailor. 

There was one point when he had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Monica rushed to you, telling you that if you didn’t hold onto him for dear life, she’d smack you silly.

The rest of the guests were acquaintances that you barely recognized, and you could feel your social battery draining by the minute. You stood in the kitchen sipping on a glass of punch as you listened to Janice talk your ear off about a new diet that she’d been on, trying your utmost best to come up with an excuse to leave her. 

“Sorry, Janice, I gotta head to the bathroom real quick. Nice dress, though, you look amazing!” 

“Oh, thank you, you’re such a sweetheart! You know, if Chandler hadn’t already asked me, I wouldn’t have minded having a piece of you to myself—!”

You squirmed away before she could try to flirt with you any more, bolting into the general direction of the bathroom. Suddenly, you crashed straight into somebody’s chest, which you were utterly relieved to be Joey.

He grasped your forearms, concerned, before promptly letting go of you.

“Hey, Jo,” you said, strangely timid. This was Joey, for heaven’s sake, what were you being so shy for? “You look good!”

“Thanks,” he said, before giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. A dark brown leather jacket was thrown over a tight white turtleneck, and his dark hair was combed to the side. “You look great, too. Dresses suit you.”

Tonight, you had decided to wear a silky dress that was a mottled shade of olive green, draping just right over your figure. It shone dimly beneath the lights, and Joey couldn’t help but notice how it brought out the brightness of your eyes. 

“Really? I can’t remember the last time I’ve worn a dress,” you nervously replied, tucking a loose curl of hair behind your ear. “I’m only wearing this because Connor told me it complimented my eyes.”

Immediately, Joey’s expression seemed to falter. “O-Oh, yeah. Well, he’s right.”

A knock on the door drew your attention away from Joey, and Monica opened it to reveal a man—and judging by Joey’s wave, you guessed that it was the hot single dad that he had mentioned was his date. Your inference was further confirmed when two small children walked in after him, much to your amusement.

“Oh, uh, bye—” you began to say, but Joey was already moving away from you.

Before disappointment could fester within you for too long, Connor was by your side, curling an arm around your waist. You smiled at him, leaning forward and softly pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Rouge dusted across his cheekbones and he returned the favor, before nuzzling his nose against the side of your temple.

It was sickly sweet—nauseatingly so. But you loved it, anyway.

 From across the room, Joey watched the two of you cozy up to each other and he cursed under his breath. He forced himself to tear away his gaze and focus on his date and… the two kids awkwardly following behind.

The door flung open not five minutes later, revealing Rachel. Only, she was covered in mud and dirt, and a mysterious goopy substance that dripped down her hair. Her lip was busted and swollen, and deep bruises littered her pallid complexion. 

“Oh, my God,” you whispered under your breath, whispering an apology to Connor before rushing to Rachel, who was being fawned over by Monica. “Rach, are you okay? What happened?”

“Fuckin’ Paolo missed his flight!” she spat out, a bit muffled and hard to understand because of her swollen lip, taking a seat on the sofa. 

Hurriedly, you grabbed a glass of water for her and dampened a small towel with warm water, and rushed back to her, cleaning away the speckled dirt on her face.

“And then your face exploded?” Phoebe asked hesitantly.

“I was getting into a cab at the airport, when this woman, this blonde bitch with a pocketbook started yelling at me! Something about how it was her cab first, and the next thing I know, she’s just pulling me out by my hair! So I start blowing my attack whistle thingy and then three more cabs show up! So as I’m getting into a cab, she straight out tackles me! And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle!” She burst into tears, before quickly composing herself, realizing that there were more than a dozen people watching her blubber bloody, dirty tears. “Oh. Everyone having fun at the party? Y/N, is that Connor? He’s very handsome!”

Connor waved hello, but you sighed, gently pressing the back of your hand to Rachel’s forehead. “Honey, you might’ve hit your head really hard and gotten a concussion. Can someone get some ice, please? Or a frozen bag of peas, or something?” When Chandler brought you a small pack of ice, you gingerly held it to her head. “Alright, this should bring down the swelling soon. Are you feeling sleepy at all? Is it hard to keep your eyes open?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, I think. Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem,” you replied, patting her leg softly. “No alcohol for you tonight, though.”

With a meek smile, she nodded, before heading into her room to get changed and clean herself up a bit more. 

You blew out a breath, before allowing Connor to sweep you away closer to the windows. “That was…” he began.

“What?”

“You’re really great,” he said, eyes softening. “I know this thing between us is really new, and I don’t want to rush anything, but I really like you.”

You swore you could feel your heart liquefying within your chest and drip down between your ribcage. “I really like you, too, Connor.”

Not too far from the two of you, you overheard Joey’s date purr, “When I saw you at the store last week, it was probably the first time I’ve ever mentally undressed an elf.” 

Disgust coiled within your stomach when you noticed that her kids were watching. 

“Hey.” Connor’s fingers lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m good. Let’s go get some more food, I’m starving!”

The next hour was spent mingling some more, and you were already hiding yawns behind a fist. Connor, ever so considerate, had asked you if you were feeling tired and wanted to leave, but you had waved him away. Though you were tired, you really did want to kiss him on New Years.

Before you knew it, it was five minutes before midnight.

You had bumped into Chandler, who had sullenly told you that he had broken up with Janice. Again. 

“Will you kiss me at midnight?” he asked you. 

You reared back in surprise, gesturing to an equally bewildered Connor. “I’m here with Connor, Chandler.”

He squinted. “Okay. Connor, will you kiss me at midnight?”

“Oh, go away, Chandler!” you swatted his arm, and he hissed, scuttering away to ask another poor soul to kiss him. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Joey tuck in two kids on the sofa with a large blanket, passed out cold. You tilted your head, heading towards him. 

“Where’s their dad?” you whispered quietly, not wanting to awaken them. 

“Chandler told me he saw him in Monica’s room, getting it on with some chick,” replied Joey, distant. “I’m just watchin’ over the kids.”

Your gaze softened. “That’s real sweet of you. Happy new year, Joey.” A bit more hesitantly, you spread your arms out. You were tired of walking on eggshells around him—you wanted your best friend back. He looked at you for a second, gaze flickering to Connor, who was chatting pleasantly to Ross, and then back to you. Then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you tightly, blueberry perfume invading his senses, a tirade of overwhelming emotions winding through every nerve. All of a sudden, your glossed lips were on his cheek, nose bumping into his cheekbone. “In case you don’t get a new year’s kiss,” you whispered against him, before pulling away.

Throat tight, he nodded stoutly, watching as you sent him one last devastating smile, and turned on your heel to head back to Connor.

A minute before midnight.

“Looks like the no-date pact worked out,” Chandler huffed. “Except Y/N, the bastard.” He glared at you from afar as Connor placed his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, his nose brushing yours. 

“Everybody looks so happy! I hate that,” said Phoebe. Sure, she had been the one who urged her date to go to Russia for a big break in his career, but it still hurt that he’d left nonetheless.

As the clocks hit midnight, the couples around you cheered and began embracing each other. Connor pulled you flush against him and kissed you deeply, and you couldn’t help but grin into him when he skimmed his fingers down your side, tickling you slightly. Your hands cradled his jaw as if he were made of fine china, inching to the back of his neck to lace together.

You pulled away, breathless, just in time to turn and see Joey exasperatedly grab Chandler’s face and plant a firm kiss on his lips to shut him up about being forever alone.

Nora Bing was a delight, despite Chandler’s vehement difference of opinion. 

She was confident, a good conversationalist, and often divulged a bit too much information than needed, which made for a rather entertaining evening. She was a pretty popular erotica writer, and though you haven’t had the chance to pick up any of her books yourself, you’ve heard it to be rather… raunchy.

The entire group was out at a fancy Chinese restaurant, and she had asked you to bring your ‘little boy toy’ as she had called Connor. 

You sat between him and Chandler, with Nora being on the other side, and Joey across from you. 

Soon after you arrived, Rachel and Paolo rushed in, looking disheveled. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late. We kinda lost track of time,” the brunette said, breathless. Paolo was kissing down her neck from behind her and you had to resist the urge to gag. Down the table, you could see Ross discretely fist the tablecloth so tight his knuckles turned white.

The two sat down, and the food arrived shortly after. You shared a dish with Connor, who placed a warm hand on your knee.

“Mrs. Bing, I have to tell you, I’ve read everything you’ve written!” said Rachel as she fed Paolo a prawn cracker. His tongue dragged down her hand and the rest of the group watched in disturbed, awkward silence. “I mean it! When I read Euphoria at Midnight, all I wanted to do was become a writer.”

“Please,” the blonde woman smiled at the compliment, “if I could do it, anybody can! You just start with half a dozen European cities, throw in thirty euphemisms for male genitalia, and bam! You’ve got yourself a book!”

From beside her, Chandler gagged around a soup dumpling, pounding his chest. “My mother, ladies and gentlemen,” he hacked out.

Amiable chatter filled the rest of the dinner—Phoebe was telling a story about a homeless man that once chased her in the street wearing a full-body chicken suit, Joey filled Nora in with his upcoming auditions, and you and Connor told the group about what you’ve been up to at work. 

Both Nora and Ross had excused themselves to go to the bathroom, and you looked to Joey with a soft smile.

“How are your auditions going, Jo? Do you need any help practicing your scenes? You know I always love doing those with you,” you said, pulling a small plate of wantons towards you. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine—they’re more solo acts than anything,” he reassured, before falling quiet once more.

It was your turn to choke on your noodles when Connor’s hand began inching up your thigh. Irrational panic cramped your insides. 

Concerned, Monica asked, “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I, uh… need to go to the bathroom.” Abruptly, you stood up from your seat, face practically set aflame. Connor’s hand fell away from your leg, but he stood up as well. “No, uhm, I’ll just be a second—you can stay here.”

As you rushed to the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms were, you were driven further into a mess when you saw Ross and Chandler’s mom making out against the wall, making obscene, porn-like noises.

You were just about to turn and leave when you saw Joey right behind you, concerned gaze fixed on you. “I was just makin’ sure you were alright, you looked a little—” He cut himself off when he looked back and saw Ross and Nora. “Oh, my God!”

The two sprang away from each other, staring wide-eyed at you and Joey. 

“We’ll, uh… just go pee in the street!” you uttered in an abnormally squeaky tone, grabbing Joey’s arm and yanking him away from the bathrooms.

When you returned to the table, Connor smiled at you kindly, but there was a glimmer of apologetic worry behind his hazel irises. 

“That was quick,” he commented. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah—no. I don’t know,” you whispered, still a little shell-shocked.

Lowering his voice, he leaned closer to you. “Was it about me touching you? If it was, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done that and I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with it first—”

“Oh, Connor, it’s fine! That wasn’t what I was worrying about, I promise.”

With a sigh of relief, Connor nodded. “You’ll tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied distantly, glancing towards Joey, who’d been boring holes into you the entire time since you got back. “Of course I will.”

Early the next morning, you knocked on Joey’s door, greeted by him wrapped in a bathrobe and his dark hair a disheveled mess.

“Hey,” you said with a warm smile. “I brought you some croissants from that bakery down the street.”

With a grin, he took the bag from you and inhaled deeply, groaning. “Thanks, Y/N, these smell amazing.”

“So, uh, about yesterday…”

You were about to bring up Ross and Nora, but Joey asked before you could, “Was Connor bothering you?”

The mention of your doe-eyed partner made you rear back in shock. “What? No! I mean… he did kinda touch me in a suggestive way and I was just surprised, was all. He’s really great, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know! Being in a relationship is terrifying,” you huffed, leaning against his kitchen table.

There was a beat of silence. “You guys are in a relationship?”

“Well, we haven’t really made anything official, but I think we are,” you said.

“Oh.” Joey swallowed heavily. “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? Just do whatever makes you happy. I… we’ll always be here for you. I’m one of your best friends, remember?”

Worrying on your bottom lip, you quietly murmured, “Lately it just hasn’t been feeling that way.”

Joey’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean—there’s like this sort of weird tension between us. Do you not like Connor or something? Or is it something that I did? Because you know I love you, Jo—I’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

A troubled expression melded over his features. He shook his head. “You didn’t do anything—and Connor’s great for you! Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I’ve just been in a weird funk—but things are gonna go back to normal soon, I swear.”

“Oh, Jo,” you whispered, pushing off the table and stepping closer to him. Gently, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace and he returned the hug immediately, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I care about you a lot, you know?”

Before he could respond, there was another knock at the door. You let go of him so Joey could answer it. 

Ross was standing behind, looking distraught.

“Oh, good, Y/N you’re here too. Is Chandler in there?” 

“Yeah, he’s sleeping,” replied Joey.

At the confirmation, Ross grabbed the two of you and yanked you out of the apartment, much to both of your dismay.

“Okay, about last night, you know,” Ross began, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “You guys didn’t tell Chandler, did you?”

With a sigh, both of you shook your heads. 

“Great, because I’m thinking… we don’t need to tell Chandler, right? It was just a kiss—just one kiss, it was no big deal. Right?”

“Right, no big deal,” said Joey. “In Bizarro-World!”

Disappointed, you prodded Ross in the shoulder, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You broke the code!”

“What code?”

“You don’t kiss your friend’s mom!” you said, a bit too loudly, which made Ross shush you with paranoid glances back to the apartment. 

Joey nodded his agreement. “Sisters are okay. Maybe a hot aunt, but moms? Never a mom! They’re off limits.”

It was then that the door swung open again, and Chandler appeared, yawning. 

“What’re you guys doin’ out here?” he asked as he bent down to pick up the newspaper on the doorstep. 

“Uh, the three of us had discussed getting in an early morning racquetball game!” squeaked Ross, before gesturing to Joey. “But apparently somebody overslept!”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have your racquet,” Joey shot back. 

Scratching the back of his neck, Ross nodded. “No, uh, no I don’t. It’s being restrung. Y/N was supposed to bring me one!”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah, I, uhm, you forgot to call me yesterday and tell me what kind you wanted! So many different racquets to choose from, you know?”

Chandler rubbed his eyes sleepily. “You guys are spending way too much time together,” he quipped, before turning on his heel and heading back inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m scum,” lamented Ross once Chandler was out of earshot.

“How could you do that to him?” you hissed lowly.

Ross threw his hands up. “I don’t know! It’s not like she’s a regular mom, you know? She’s sexy, she’s—”

“What, you don’t think my mom’s sexy?” asked Joey. 

“Well… sure, but in a different way.”

Joey scowled. “I’ll have you know, Gloria Tribbiani was a handsome woman in her day, alright? You think it’s easy giving birth to seven children?”

“I think your mom’s beautiful, Jo.”

“Why, thank you. See, no wonder she keeps saying you’re her favorite—”

Ross blew out a frustrated huff. “Alright, I think we’re getting a little off topic here.”

From the opposite side of the hall, the door swung open to reveal Rachel and a barely-dressed Paolo. 

“Hey, what’re you guys doing out here?” she asked, clearly in a chipper mood.

“Not playing racquetball,” you hummed in a glib tone, shooting Ross a dagger-sharp look.

A little confused, Rachel nodded, but didn’t care enough to ask more about it, leading Paolo out of the apartment and heading up the stairs to kiss him goodbye.

The three of you filed into Monica’s apartment. “Are you gonna tell him?” Joey asked. “You can’t just lie to him forever.”

“Why would I tell him?” asked Ross as he fished a carton of orange juice out of Monica’s fridge.

“Maybe because if you don’t, his mom might?” you chimed, cocking a brow. 

“Oh, God. Oh, man—you’re right. I have to tell him.”

With Chandler seated and Ross standing in front of him, you and Joey lingered in their kitchen as you listened in to their conversation. 

“You’re my best friend. I had to tell you,” said Ross, which made you roll your eyes. 

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe Paolo kissed my mom! I mean, I barely saw him leave Rachel’s side that night!” Chandler said in disbelief.

Joey crossed his arms and glared at Ross. Guilt welled up in your long-time friend’s face, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Alright, no, I can’t do this. I was the one who kissed your mom. I’m sorry.”

Shocked, Chandler got to his feet. “What?” he asked, jaw unhinging. 

Stammering, Ross began to explain, “I was just really upset about Rachel and Paolo and I had too much tequila in my system and Nora—uhm, Mrs. Mom—I mean, your Bing, was… she was just being nice, you know? But nothing happened, I swear. Ask Y/N and Joey—”

Rounding on the two of you in the kitchen, Chandler asked incredulously, “You guys knew about this?”

“Uh… well, knowledge is a tricky thing,” Joey began to cough out.

“I spent the entire day with you!” gruffed Chandler. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Defensively, Joey retorted, “Hey, you’re lucky we caught them when we did, or else who knows what would’ve happened!”

“Not helping!” barked Ross.

A muscle jumped in Chandler’s jaw. “And you, Y/N? We spent the rest of that night together and you didn’t say a single word! Too busy making googly eyes at your boyfriend?”

“Don’t bring Connor into this,” you bristled, glaring knives into all three of them. “Listen, Chandler, I obviously wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t mine to tell. Ross had to own up to his mistakes and tell you himself.”

Lifting a finger, Ross said, “Mistake—as in, not plural. Just one. It was just one kiss—okay, I’ll shut up now.”

“I can’t believe this. What the hell were you thinking?” admonished Chandler. “Of all my friends, no one knows the crap I go through with my mom more than you. I can’t believe you!”

Despite Ross’ desperate attempts to get Chandler to hear him out, he turned tail and made his way out of the apartment, slamming the door on the way.

“See what happens when you break the code?” Joey huffed, before rushing out to catch up to Chandler. 

You sighed, slumping against the kitchen counter. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Ross said, making his way to you.

“I shouldn’t be the one you’re apologizing to,” came your stout reply. You fixed Ross with a pointed look. “I know you’re hurting over Rachel right now, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re hurting others, too. Give Chandler some time to mull it over, and then talk to him again. Okay?”

Ross pursed his lips. “Okay.” He slung an arm over you, pulling you into a side-hug. “Say, what were you doing with Joey so early in the morning?”

Your cheeks flushed with a surge of heat, and you ducked your head. “We had some things to talk about.”

Dubious, Ross narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything in response.

Later that night, you were sitting beside Connor, who was engaged in a lively conversation with Joey—something about how waffles were really just the ugly, older sister of pancakes. You were glad to see them finally getting along, despite the initial awkward stage.

Chandler walked in, sinking into the empty spot beside Connor, asking him how he was doing.

When Ross opened his mouth to speak, Chandler held up a finger. “I was asking Connor, not you, mother-kisser.”

Much to Ross’ dismay, Joey burst out into raucous laughter, which left Connor confused.

“I’m doing great,” your boyfriend replied, evidently puzzled. “How about you?”

Before Chandler had the chance to reply, Ross sat up straight. “Can I just say something? I know you’re still mad at me, I just wanna say that there were two people there that night, okay? There were two sets of lips!”

“What’s going on?” Connor dipped forward to whisper into your ear. The smile melted off of Joey’s face. 

You twisted to mumble back, “Ross kissed Chandler’s mom.”

Connor’s eyes widened, and he nodded in understanding before settling back to watch the two hash it out.

“Yes, well, I expected this from her, okay?” retorted Chandler. “She’s always been a Freudian nightmare.”

“If she always behaves like this, why don’t you say something?” Ross postulated. 

“Because it’s complicated! It’s complex! Hey, you kissed my mom!” Chandler exclaimed loudly, which made some of the other people in the cafe stop and stare at the two. You sank lower into your seat.

Placing a hand on Chandler’s chest, Ross said, “Hey, you have every right to be angry at me and I’m still really sorry. But you’re not gonna talk to her at all and tell her how you feel about all this?”

“Look, just because you played tonsil tennis with my mom doesn’t mean you know her!”

“I might not, but I still think you need to let her know that you’re upset with her, Chandler.” 

Chandler’s face hardened as he considered Ross’ words. With a stiff nod, he stepped away from the taller man, waving goodbye to the three of you on the couches, before heading out to presumably talk to his mother.

“Well,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “I think that’s my cue to head back home.”

“Let me walk you home,” said Connor, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger before dipping forward to kiss you, all soft and sweet. You pulled away to press another quick kiss to his cheek, then swiftly got up from the couches, his hand intertwined with yours. 

Ross watched as Joey barely said goodbye to you and Connor, his expression tight and closed-off.

When both you and Connor were long gone, Ross turned to Joey.

“You’re in love with Y/N, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

Joey’s head snapped up so quickly that it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. His eyes widened a fraction. “What?”

“You are,” said Ross. “I can see it in your face. It’s written all over you.”

The Italian shook his head vehemently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, sure. One that you’re in love with!”

“Well, how would you know, huh?” Joey crossed his arms, panic coiling within his gut. 

Exhaling, Ross lowered his voice, muttering out, “Because that’s how I look at Rachel… and that’s how I feel when I see Rachel with Paolo.”

A second of silence passed before Joey cuffed Ross on the shoulder, laughing. “You’re a funny guy, Ross. Just because you’ve gone and fallen in love with Rachel doesn’t mean Y/N and I are the same. You got it all wrong—Y/N’s like my sibling, if anything!” 

“You sure?” 

Joey sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “Positive.”

Ross couldn’t tell if his friend was telling the truth, or if he was just a really good actor.

[pillowfriendly]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

tagged by @ferrocyan yayayay yippyyy ^^ tagging @smallest-turtle and viewers like you

(coming back to the top to say i definitely did more than just the spoken lines because i misunderstood the prompt. my official stance on this is: whatever. eat my shorts)

---

The man scrambled back further, waving his spoon. “Are you going to rob me?”

“Um.” She conducted a brief inventory of his few belongings and glanced at the single scraggly chocobo. “No?”

---

“My mothers mostly told me forest stories, so I don’t know much about the ocean. But it seems… big… there?” She winced. Jude frowned at her.

“Too much water,” she added, desperate. This was a conversation. She was making conversation.

---

“Does it always have to be so hard?” She spoke to Fray, but would have liked to pose the question to several gods, too.

---

He backpedaled, holding his arm close. The saber lay at his feet, yet he didn’t reach for it. He wasn’t even trying. Why did that make it worse? “Do you even want to live at all?” Fray said. Kethry said.

---

“Yeah, we’ll go out. Unless you can trace the aetheric signature of defensive constructs. Or whatever that last scholar was talking about.”

“Kweh.”

“Me neither.”

---

She threw up her hands. “What for? If there’s something that needs killed again, I’ll get it out of your way. Happy?” She shook grit from her log and stood. “If I can’t do anything else, I’d like to do my job without busybodies.”

---

He thumbed his chin. “Still, the fact that she changed plumage, I assume after she reached full maturity, might make her something of a scientific anomaly.”

Kethry’s ears flattened. “An anomaly? That’s so! So!” she sputtered. “That’s so rude! She’s a good bird!”

“I’m not saying she’s not,” he said, in a tone somewhere between confusion and amusement. His eyes landed on a fin stuck to Phoebe’s beak. “Perhaps it was induced by dietary changes?”

“She’s just blue! Don’t be mean!” Kethry struggled to scramble into the saddle and maintain disapproving eye contact at the same time.

---

“There’s something like this up in Coerthas too. They say it came down when the moon fell. Saw an Echo of it happening first time I came here.” She waved his question away before he could ask. “I get these… past visions, sometimes. Side effect of the Echo. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, this whole thing formed ’cause of the impact.” She narrowed her eyes and tossed him the arrows. “But don’t stand there thinking about what it all means. That’s on your own time.”

---

This arrow flew true, but a twirl of her staff knocked it out of the air. “No, she just has Limsa. For now.”

“Has Limsa.” He drew several arrows to fire in succession. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

She turned to avoid the first shot. “It’s hers.” Ducked under the second. “She can use it.” Sent the next skittering and sparking along the crystal. “Get people to do things.” Startled him by leaping over the fourth with a dragoon’s high jump, and aimed for the fifth on the return. It zipped under her—she swung for it and missed, landing with a thud on the field. “She takes a cut for organizing trade. Makes the fleet sail here or there. But if she messes it up, or pulls too much…” She opened her hands and dropped the staff, then kicked it back up to herself. “Someone will take it from her. And if that can happen, she’s not really in charge of it, see? It’s a tool she can use while she’s got it. Or something.”

---

“Mmbwuh,” said Kethry.

---

“It doesn’t…” She scrunched up her face, then made a waving motion. “When Alphinaud and Y’shtola cast spells, you can feel their aether move when they weave it, and it goes like, fwoosh. But when I try to shape mine into a sigil, or anything like that, it’s like pulling on an anchor rode. Doesn’t move.”

---

“I just. When I lived here. We were hunting, the kids. I mean, we were kids, not that we were hunting any. It was the first time I was supposed to lead. And we ran into one of those, a boar, they grow too big here, and we should have ran, but I tried to take it down anyway, and—” She shook her head, to try and shake out the memory, too. “It got my cousin. Tore her right open.”

---

Still, he’d been whiny about it. “Since when have you gotten so demanding?” he panted.

“Since I decided we were friends.”

His ears flicked. “Oh? And when was that?”

She folded her hands over his head and rested her own on top of them while she considered. “Right now? A while ago? I dunno. I'm hungry, though.”

---

She shook her head, flicking water about as she did so. “The only reason not to help people is if you can't. And you should be sure that you really can’t, not just that it might be hard. Anyway, I know the Echo doesn’t work like that, probably. That's why it's stupid.”

---

Kethry laughed. “You kidding? Of course we can.” She leaned out to look up the incline, then rolled an eye over her shoulder at him. Her grin had too many teeth. “Monsters this big rely on having more power than you, and that's usually enough. It can try to hit us, sure. But it can't fight.”

[fumifooms]

Mozu character analysis - Power & Security

[pics: first is from here, second is from here. First is the official translation but second can also reinforce details imo]  Tw for: extensive discussion of parental physical abuse and trauma. Violent demeanor and also implied sexism & objectification.

Mozu’s a really interesting character that Dr. Stone barely scratched the surface of with the prodigy discussion with Hyoga, and I’m just unhinged enough (and my college semester just ended) so that I’m going to write an essay about his psychology. Rejoice, autism be upon ye. It’s under a cut bc buckle up everyone this is gonna be long. Oh also, this is just a fan analysis so of course I can’t and don’t claim that this is the ultimate universal “right” reading of his character, but I do think it’s a solid reading with what canon gave us. Also I have to confess that I didn’t read all of the Treasure Island arc… I mostly skipped chapters except the ones Mozu was in lol, for that reason I might very well be unaware of some aspects.

The way his backstory affects him

Here are the main points of canon to keep in mind for this:

1: His father was abusive, and when he started being violent with him, Mozu almost killed him when he retaliated. 

2: He’s lived all his life on Treasure Island, and is its lead warrior, very high-ranked.

3: He’s a prodigy that supposedly was born with an innate incredible physical strength. 

Now I’m a nurture over nature kinda gal, so we’ll spend a long time talking about how his environment shaped him. We’ll start of by clarifying the father situation as much as we can: it’s rare that someone/a relationship goes from 0 to 100 like that, I think it’s safe to assume that even before he started hitting him his father was still very much unpleasant and abusive in various ways.

So let’s get into it. 1: Do I even have to talk about how much having an abusive parent fucks you up. That kid probably developed hypervigilance and survival instincts early on at home, that tends to happen when you have to make sure your father isn’t going to take out his anger on you, and calculate what you can do to not get punished, more on that later. You know, like that post of someone talking about how someone angrily folding a sock at you makes you tense and adrenaline rush. Things become warning signs to defend against, anyways I’m getting slightly sidetracked- I’m sure his father taught him a bunch of shit ideology by his actions and words. Just even how he sees himself being a prodigy: being as strong as he was is how he was able to defend himself when his father became physically abusive, maybe he could have even died. That alone could explain for me why he values the innate qualities such as strength and beauty in people instead of training and earned skills, because in his case if he hadn’t been born strong or whatever he wouldn’t have been able to come through the way he has. He’d be in deep shit. And that’s why he sees innate strength as the only thing that distinguish people of value. Just getting beatings alone, without the extra backstory of retaliating, could have very well “taught” him that strength is the way the world runs, making him see it as the ultimate thing to possess. The human brain focuses first of all on survival and safety, whatever wrong things you learn or do come in second to that, especially when you’re in a developmental stage like a kid.

2: I think we can all agree the system on Treasure Island is hella tyrannical. Ibara can pretty much do whatever he wants, and the only untouchable people are the one who are high-ranked (pretty much only warriors) and… Yep no that’s it. Mozu became the highest ranking warrior besides Kirisame thanks to his strength and that’s what keeps him secure and generally comfortable, with his access to the harem girls and ressources, as well as being generally respected and feared. His strength is what gave him that, and his strength is what ensures he’s safe in the hierarchy and in general. Once again, his world view about innate strength being the most important thing is reinforced by the whole Treasure Island system and society he lives in. What can he do, flee Treasure Island? Hah, good joke. So he follows the system and takes advantage of it as much as he can, even shooting for becoming the chief at some point.

3: Soo the reason he’s 1: alive and safe, and 2: in a good place in the society hierarchy, ensuring him safety and comfort, is that he’s a prodigy, that he was born with that strength. I’ve already mentioned it in the other points, but yeah at this point there’s nothing that can prove to him that his world view, about innate strength meaning you deserve everything you want and deserve to rule over the weaker, is wrong. It’s very much a "survival of the fittest" mindset with a focus on eugenics. That’s where Hyoga comes in, kicking his ass, but that’s for later on.

I do feel like the way he deals with conflict is very telling as well. When Mozu realized he knew who the invaders were, he sat back and watched over to see how the chaos would unfold. He stepped to the sideline and let things happen, so he could later strike when the opportunity presented itself and he could side with whoever is going to win in the end. That *cough* sounds like *cough* a strategy someone who lived in an abusive home would instinctively develop, make yourself scarce so no attention is placed on you when things are bad and shit is brewing, then take the opportunity to grab power if it’s safely presented to you. 

So. I think it’s pretty much canon subtext that Mozu seeks power as a trauma response. Power in his life has meant safety and control of his life. Literally just self-defense and survival instinct/self-preservation. Not only power in status, but also innate, believing that the attributes with which you were born are what gets you to where you deserve to be in life, strength (and beauty just as a collateral product of what he considers to be innate qualities). In that sense, like any other unhealthy trauma response, it’s something he should unlearn to heal, and to stop being a piece of shit also.

There are also other aspects of his character that support this, that’s kind of all his character tbh, but for example there’s just how much he doesn’t blink at, and even thrives in, violence. There’s how he was very trigger-happy when it came to killing the science crew, almost playful in the way he treated their lives like lottery. He’s cold hearted and sees killing someone you can defeat as a right, and he doesn’t assign value to lives at all, except when he can get something out of it, power mostly (letting the science crew live so they can get the medusa out of the picture, with Kohaku getting informations on the invaders). 

If you think about it, he’s also a lot like Denji from Chainsaw Man… Just look at this post. He just seeks quick instant gratification through sexual affection. Has he ever even had any positive relationships? Does he even know how to express and receive affection? It is after all well known that hypersexuality can be a coping mechanism born from trauma.  All of the relationships and interactions we see him have with others on Treasure Island (apart from the harem girls) are professional in nature. It’s implied he has no friends from the lack of counter evidence. We don’t see him just hanging out with anyone, no one speaks of him with any sort of fondness. It’s also lowkey implied he doesn’t seek out the same harem girl multiple times, so there’s very low chances of him having formed a connection or friendship with any of them. So, he’s got no friends, no family, no romance. The only validation and affection he gets is in a professional sense because of his feats (which is in turn due to his innate strength) and from the “special time” spent with harem girls. Iirc we don’t even know if the harem girls like him or not, they might just be doing their job… So, like. Yeah, the only positive attention he gets is from maiming people and from sex, so that already paints a pretty picture doesn’t it.  Edit: Ok so I found it too much of an assumption to put it in initially but I always think about it again so, with the way Treasure Island guards frequently have to turn dissident people to stone or worse, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mozu’s apathy when it comes to killing or even murderous tendencies kinda come from the fact that he was pushed to do them + it’s very normalized there. Like… Mozu lowkey dissociating to get into a killing mood or when thinking back on it and trying his best not to dwell on it is a concept that has got me going. Not mentioning the systematic murdering and how that might affect him negatively being the one that has to carry it out would just be a missed opportunity from me. 

Motives & other traits

His biggest motivation for becoming chief of Treasure Island, if we’re to believe his own words on the matter, is that he wants the harem…? Yeah well, I’m sure that’s part of it, gratification and possessions for a type of pleasure that he does value, but I do think the power part of it is understated a lot. He’s obviously a character that cares a lot about power, and so I think he just didn’t talk about that part much because it’s just obvious. He wants to become chief because chiefs are at the top of the hierarchy, and why would he not want that. In part, I do think he doesn’t realize just how much the chase for power drives him. He seems to kinda just be doing whatever he wants to do at the moment, which to me seems like it means that Mozu’s craving of power is a subconscious thing to him. To him, it probably all just sounds like the natural thing to seek. Oh and that does bring me to another point, I think freedom is really important to him. The freedom to meet with harem girls, the freedom to be at the top of hierarchy, the freedom that comes with being the strongest around, the freedom that comes with everyone having to listen to you if they don’t want you to kill them, he wants to have no limits and be fully unrestrained. Comes with living on a small island you can’t leave that has a super strict system that treats you like shit, tbh. The negotiations with Gen were very interesting for me because of this, when he had the knee-jerk reaction to demand he keeps the medusa after their alliance because Gen said he couldn’t. He wants the freedom to choose to keep the medusa or not, even if he doesn’t actually really gives a shit about it because he’s the strongest without it anyways, so he decides he’ll keep the medusa as a show of power, simply because he can and the science gang can’t go against him. Phrased differently, the negotiations with Gen also confirm he’s pretty contrarian in general, wanting freedom and pushing for it thoughtlessly regardless of the practicality of it (he didn’t seem like he cared about getting the petrification beam. It’s just a power move, because that’s what he wanted: unconditional power).

He’s a veryyy proud character, we we know this, big ego that thinks he’s hit shit with the ladies and the strongest and that means he deserves everything he wants on a whim, but he does react very badly when someone talks about him negatively or otherwise challenge him (Kohaku when she said he had no integrity or appeal lol, making him go “you’re no longer cute, let’s fight to the death now”). He takes rejection really bad. Maybe that can show that his self-esteem is less strong than we think. Not that it’s completely a front, boy no actor is that good, but certainly, Mozu could get triggered by someone insulting him or confronting him with his flaws, insinuating that he’s anything less than worthy of his success or whatever else. His strength and, eh, beauty, are the only things he has going for him after all, he might get touchy with them being put into question, or rather having their worth put into question the way Hyoga does by claiming people can train and become better than Mozu if they have enough trained talent. It can also be less personal, that just as someone who hasn’t been used to people refusing him anything for a long while and being contrarian himself having someone just straight up provoking him or insulting him makes him see red. Whatever, cool excuse for bloodlust, bro.

He’s also not as impulsive as one would assume with his horny jock archetype tbh. Rather, he’s very observant and calculating, which was pointed out a significant amount of times. I do feel like it’s often overlooked that he didn’t just want to keep Kohaku alive because he wanted to sleep with her, but that his end goal was for her to spill the beans. It’s a threat as much as it’s unappealing flirting, a power move once again. He likes to do a lot of them, to be sure. That’s why he bragged about lowkey wanting to kill the science crew in front of them. Anyways- Yeah, in the end even with Kohaku, everything he did from A to Z in the Treasure Island arc was to actively further his own agenda. Also he’s sneaky and light in his feet, rather than being super loud or even attention seeking tbh. (Watching people quietly & noticing things/spying, sneaking into the cave without anyone hearing or seeing him arrive, the whole cloaked surprise attacks thing)

Redemption & healing

So. How did this fucking murderous selfish piece of shit become this?

Well… Errr, an off-screen redemption arc?

It’s very much swept under the rug, the difference between the climactic battle he had with Hyoga and later on after he got unpetrified to become a part of the science kingdom is staggering, and unexplained. The manga wants you to assume that his last conversation with Hyoga explains his change of heart enough. Which… It kind of does? Like, canon if you could have spent like 1 panel telling us that Mozu has been training with Hyoga and getting along well with the crew and acclimating peacefully it’d have been cool but whatever, we can piece it out pretty well on our own.  My best guess for his off-screen redemption arc is that the whole Hyoga speech and defeat humbled him enough to reconsider some of his life philosophies (pretty much the canon reading, especially since he confirmed he’d like to train, aka an acknowledgement that he’s not the best he could be + shows him learning some work ethics). But, I like to think that what makes him become much more of a team guy rather than wanting to be above everyone, is that being away from Treasure Island and the tyrannical system that was there, his agression and need for hierarchy subsided because in Senku’s group there is safety. There is no struggle for power, working for one guy that just wants to be powerful and take advantage of that (Ibara. Which ironicalky is what Mozu himself wanted to become, since he had no example of what else there is than exploiting and being exploited), instead there is a community that is very open and humane, one that values the life of even their worst enemies, one that doesn’t treat you like shit even if you contribute less to the working force or have unconventional qualities. He got fricking humbled, and he found that there were other ways to live. So, he mellowed out. That’s kind of the only realistic explanation I can make for it, so in the end I do think that supports my reading that his resorting to violence so automatically and all o’ that is a trauma response. The epilogue chapter showed he got a happy ending with plenty of chicks so like, lol, things are working out for him ig. 

And that’s how you turn an horrible irredeemable-seeming villain into a comedy relief character with minimal exposition and redemption arc. 

In conclusion

[last pic source: https://www.tumblr.com/9009l3/658963831138238464/mozu-flower :) 💖]

Also I made a spotify playlist for him bc I’m cringe, here it is if ya want it: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/79AEoXTRT3GTYVGlUONGol?si=ag6wl-CnT569OCM5CGWnhw

[averokage]

im bored i’m just gonna make more jd lore posts - SCARLET’S PALACE

ah scarlets palace in dancity (in danceverse eternyx, don’t question it)

the gays stay winning wtih just dance like really

so before we talk about any other performer at scarlet’s palace, first we must talk about the enby drag legend Scarlet Gold themself. (real name Samson Garnet.)

Their first appearance was in You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real).

Now there is a quote from Just dance mag on the poster outside of scarlet’s palace, there isnt a full look at it but most of it is shown.

“...Scarlet’s show ever! ...is simply the best ...mer of our time.” i assume that means performer

and you make me feel definitely lives up to that imo best 2022 song idc

and yes Scarlet/Samson is the first coach to use they/them pronouns

icon

now that we’ve learned about the owner, lets talk abt some other performers at the palace.

and we’ll start out with the new and HOT performer (figuratively and literally) Luke Cypher

now he probably has the MOST lore bc he’s the only one with a whole official tiktok to himself

so i’ll just put the whole transcript of that here

“Born from the fire goddess Derkes, he was made to set the Danceverses on fire with his hot moves. For a long time he was lost trying to find his place among the other deities in their Danceverse. That’s when he discovered the Danceverse Eternyx. He felt like he found his home among the other fiendish and friendly creatures. So,  he moved there with his relative Ann G. Lina to enjoy the endless crazy nights.”

also Derkes is actually P3 of Woman so Luke Cypher is actually the third child of another coach/other coaches in JD23

now you might be thinking

who tf is Ann G. Lina

everything

now we don’t know much about her, apart that she’s relatives with Luke Cypher

the most lore we have besides that is the twitter community manager thinks her favorite food is mac n cheese so

now we must move on to

*the retro-actively at scarlets palace performers ig*

now scarlet’s palace only started existing in jd23, but quite a few songs and coaches have been shown to be at the palace

so here’s a rundown of them

Hot Stuff takes place at Scarlet’s Palace, as shown in the name and description for the background in jd23

“Shake it at Scarlet's“

“This palace is full of queens.“

the coach from I Will Survive is seen on a poster outside of Scarlet’s Palace in Disco Inferno, with the name Johnny Zomby.

now Rita Pina is the first character at the palace that got a name, as she was called Rita during a Just Dance Class video where the performer of Drop the Mambo, Medhi Kerkouche, went through steps of performing the song

OH ALSO SPEAKING OF THAT, Drop the Mambo was originally planned to be performed by a female dancer, but the developers in charge of the routine made him the dancer instead because of the sheer energy he had while coaching

this makes Rita the first coach to be portrayed by a dancer of the opposite gender

OH ALSO she was in Sugar, dancing with the coach of Love Me Again

good for them

lets hope it goes well bc Love Me Again actually has TEN exes but thats another story

ok this is getting too long, last one

Finally we get to Boy, You Can Keep It, with the main coach Fuchsia Blue.

now fun little jd fact

Fuchsia Blue was meant to be in a music video for Todrick Hall’s Just Dance version of Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels. (thats where fuchsia got her name along with harlem, doremi, maybel, and probably some others im forgetting)

OK now i think we’re done until next lore drop or whatever

so that was all the lore in Scarlet’s Palace... i think

i might’ve missed something

anyways lets all bow down to Scarlet’s meet and greet and wish Rita and her boyfriend well (they need wishes)

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

ji-ae sits the yummy s’mores on the table with three glasses of chilled chocolate milk and is happy to hear you and jungkook are officially back together. “i just assumed the two of you were already together” joked ji-ae who is just as excited as jungkook to hear that the two of you are even buying a home together which is what she’s really excited for. a fancy home for the two of you and hopefully her future grandchildren.

the rest of the night goes perfectly well and instead of cleaning your apartment like you planned to, you and jungkook are back at the penthouse looking for homes in both seoul and busan. all jungkook has owned was the penthouse and he still plans on keeping it for business relations but he’s excited for his first official home with you.

he was so excited that before the end of the week, jungkook had bought a beautiful home in seoul, 10 minutes from his job which was good for him but unfortunately for you:

“sorry, y/n we’ll have to let you go”

“wait what? let me go? why?”

“this is why”

your eyes widen shock upon seeing a video of two people having sex. someone who isn’t you and a digital copy of the contract you signed years ago. “th-that’s not even me! i would never do that and the contract is old—“

“i don’t care what you do in your personal time but i’d appreciate if you don’t share it with our business board. please pack your belongings and have a great day, ms. l/n”

you let out a sigh and head to your office to pack up your belongings and leave the vet center. you know it was chaeyoung that did it but it just hurt your feelings how your boss didn’t even let you get a word in. you have never in your life recorded and sent any explicit videos of yourself. you never WOULD do it so here you are driving back to your shared home with jungkook and as you pull up, jungkook is pulling in the parking lot behind you.

“why are you back? forgot something?” you ask after you cut off and get out of the car and jungkook does the same. you both head inside the home and the moment jungkook shuts it behind himself, he goes to pepper your face and neck with kisses.

“j-jungkook, don’t be upset but…i-i got fired” you pout. “chaeyoung sent her a copy of the contract i signed with you and some fake porn video but it wasn’t me and now” your eyes tear up “ i feel so embarrassed. that wasn’t even me and now i don’t have a job! i know i don’t have to work but-“ you’re cut off when jungkook’s phone begins ringing and he quickly picks it up to see what the issue is.

“sir, she did it. she told elle magazine that she’s pregnant with your child”

His grip, on the phone tightens And then he almost throws his phone on the marble floor, as soon as he hears those words, his brain shuts down.

He looks like you for a moment, and he calms down a little but you’re looking looking at him with confusion with unshed tears in your eyes. And he closes his eyes.

“Sir are you there?” The person on the other line asks and he is pulled out of his misery, “u-um yeah… when does the magazine come out?” He asks, gritting his teeth, anger, bubbling up.

“I don’t care, but make sure it doesn’t come out.” He says, ordering in a firm tone. He is biting his lip, so hard that it starts to draw blood. And then he cuts off the car before the other person can say anything..

Jungkook screams. He doesn’t know what to do anymore because whatever he does it backfires on him. You are a little taken aback and you look a little concerned when he looks at you.

“Yn that bitch told Elle magazine that she’s pregnant with my child..” now everyone will know and it will put a strain on your relationship with him.

And he doesn’t want that at all. “Y-Yn what am I gonna do?” He asks you. “ Please tell me. I SHOULD’VE KILLED HER.” he doesn’t know why he’s screaming at you, but he is freaking out

No, even if he looks at you, he doesn’t feel like he because who knows you might leave him because of her she had you kicked out of your job- no he’s feeling fear.

Fear of losing you.

“Y-Yn you’re not going to leave me right? PLEASE TELL ME..” he grabs you and he’s looking at you looking for assurance,

You have to be with him.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Mikosaru wedding?:D

Their wedding would be so minimalist, I can’t see either one of them wanting to plan anything big. Honestly considering who we’re talking about here I could absolutely see them just deciding to elope, the only reason they don’t is that Munakata is not allowing his Fushimi-kun to get married without a splendid wedding to celebrate even if he is marrying a worthless barbarian. Fushimi is well aware that he can’t expect Mikoto to do much of the planning but he isn’t particularly thrilled at doing it himself either, like he is committed to something small and easy to deal with. Even so he ends up with like piles and piles of venue suggestions and catering and flowers and Fushimi finds it all to be such a terrible pain. Luckily Scepter 4 is willing to help out, Munakata mobilizes the entire squad to the task of assisting Fushimi with his wedding.

On the Homra side Mikoto has no motivation at all but Kusanagi feels sorry for Fushimi and decides they need to take charge of this somehow, assuming this is an Everybody Lives scenario maybe Totsuka figures he can try out wedding planning as a new hobby (this would be an issue though because now Totsuka gets to coordinate with Munakata and they are a terrifying force together). Anna wants to help too and she’s probably the one person who can get both Fushimi and Mikoto to buckle down and do some wedding planning, imagine her sitting between them pointing out pretty red flowers and Mikoto and Fushimi are actually making decisions with her input.

The wedding is still pretty simple, just a short ceremony (or it would have been short but Fushimi let Munakata officiate and Munakata doesn’t know how to make short speeches) and then a reception afterward. I imagine the two guests of honor are barely around for the reception though, Mikoto finds a nice bench to nap on and Fushimi shows up about an hour later totally exhausted from all this socializing. He sits down on the bench next to Mikoto and Mikoto just opens one eye, pulls Fushimi onto his chest, and then goes right back to sleep. Fushimi grumbles that they shouldn’t be skipping their own wedding reception but he’s not exactly against this either, eventually when someone’s sent to find the newlyweds they’re discovered napping together on the bench and the guests decide to leave the two of them alone for now, like we’ll just wake them up when it’s time for cake. 

[crapmagak]

Engage Drip Marketing: Chloe

Look, boys, booba!

In all seriousness, it’s nice to see a new character after almost two weeks. Not only that, but we finally have a female character here that doesn’t look like she’s twelve, even if her outfit’s a little silly. And silly outfit aside, Chloe is rather pretty now that we’ve got a good look at her. Does make me wonder what her falcon knight outfit will look like, though.

Her intro tweet goes….

Chloe is a knight of the Kingdom of Firene. She is a gentle person, and seems to adore her liege, Celine. She likes fairy tales and beautiful scenery, and tries to find picturesque combinations of those things all the time.

And her cutscene tweet…

Chloe and Celine are talking about cruising around a tea field on a pegasus together.

Chloe: "Ah, Lady Celine. You're adorable today too."

Celine: "Thank you, Chloe."

Chloe: "We have some free time today. What are you going to do, Lady Celine?"

Celine: "Hmm...

How about we get on your pegasus and fly to a nearby tea field?"

Chloe: "I'll gladly take you."

When we first saw her, I assumed Chloe was gonna be this game's token tragic pining girl since her crit quote was “I’ve got my eye on you.” Instead, she seems to be more of a doting, older sister figure. Kind of reminds me of Sigrun… I may have a weakness for those types of characters.

Chloe also seems to be Celine's retainer as well. Considering Chloe likes fairy tales, I can see why she fawns over someone with such disney princess vibes. It’s easy to see them doing a “now we’re sisters!” thing if you pair her with Alfred. Also curious about how well she gets along with Louis, since they both like to observe in different ways.

Now for the crit tweet…

Chloe's starting class is Lance Pegasus. They are lance-wielding knights who soar through the skies on a pegasus. Strong against magic, but weak to bows.

More specifically, her class is Lance Pegasus/ Airborne. We don’t even see a horse icon next to the class, just a wing. Perhaps this means Pegasus Knights aren’t weak to beast slayers in this game. I’m also excited for potentially fielding sword and ax pegasus knights. Hopefully classes aren’t gender locked, and one will be a man. Fates showed that you can have male pegasus knights and still keep the femine aesthetic of the class. The class sprite, especially the pegasus itself, also looks great with its more dynamic pose.

This does make me curious, though. With pegasus knights being able to wield so many different weapons, will wyvern riders be a base class? Because we haven’t seen one yet in any of the clips. Having six base flying units may seem a little overkill, though I personally wouldn’t mind. Perhaps they’re a tier 2 class, a divergent promotion path for pegasus knights. Only time will tell.

As for the map itself, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. Like Alfred, Chloe is also level 7. I’m also even more sure the guy equipped with Sigurd’s ring is Louis, since if you look close you can see the bottom part of a heavy shield under the wing pauldrons.

All in all, it’s nice to get a bio on another character we were left to speculate on. I’m admittingly surprised a more waifu bait character like Chloe isn’t shown off in the story sooner, but considering two of the female characters on the box art, maybe they’re banking on the women attracted player base to be patient. 

I’m also curious about who we’re getting next. Obviously Sigurd at some point, but I am surprised they skipped over Etie and the ax fighter. Especially when those two seem to be recruited before Celine’s retainers. Though I would like to see their official models, I do wonder if the marketing team plans to skip over them so they get a chance to show off characters from the other countries in time for the game's release. I can’t imagine them not showing off at least the other three characters that are shown on the box art. Guess we’ll just have to see in one to two weeks.

[aviagin]

Rottmnt To be written prompt

I’m writing this down to not forget. Going to pretend big mamas assistant is a golem type thing where she controls it with like strings from her web and stuff anyways Leo does more research on the coller or sumn while Splints is getting fitted and dressed and everything is being prepared right so he knows there’s a ring didn’t get to research the full extant of the ring and assumes that she’s able to bring shredder back at any moment not control him.

So when he’s like there ya go one tamed psycho ready for your disposal Leo makes sure to be close enough when her marionette jumps infront to do the ritual he’s like I know there’s a ring big mama smirk and she’s like hard glare I don’t know what you mean my little truttlyboo and he’s like okay haha we’ll you see either you make a deal with me or you can deal with the mad dogs taking it right now. She pauses for a beat before she goes well you really are a clever one alright looks like we’ll have some negotiations to do and Leo’s like great hey you made the best choice I’ll keep in touch through your doll mkay mkay wink he steps back over to his family. Later in the night he sneaks out to meet with big mama’s doll. To lay some ground rules and make the official deal.

First Leo gets to come and go freely to the battle nexus, second big mama can’t allow him to die in the battle nexus. (She doesn’t allow for him to get killed however that doesn’t mean she won’t let him be on the brink of death and in pain so no she won’t provide full medical attention it’ll be just enough so that he doesn’t die) and third she can’t drag any of his family in to the arena anymore.

Big mama’s like and what do I get in exchange and Leo’s tell her she gets a flashy fighter, better business. She raises an eyebrow as excepting more so Leo rolls his eyes and says in exchange big mama gets to choose his opponents every match, his weapons, and he can only use his teleport sword to go in and out

Big mama adds in the condition “however in order for you to get the ring you MUST defeat 100 of my champions.” (By defeat she means kill but he won’t know that until he fights his first champ opponent)

In his first match he beats them pretty easy coming out with I my some scraps, and bruises. He turns to big mama saying one done 99 to go and she’s just “oh you silly little thing that wasn’t a champion it was simply your starting opponent. Before you reach my champions you must become a champion yourself.”

Leo just like god damn it! I knew you’d flip this shit one way or another fine I’m out I just came here to kill time

Leo is like you get a flashy fighter I get to train and glory we both win don’t make this difficult lady!

Obviously Leo gets some wounds and injuries but he takes care of them himself cough cough medic Leo cough cough and blames it on their fights with other mutants.

I’m just writing down as I think I’ll fix later tbh

[cybermoonmoon]

“...the math holds up”

On the Home front have a cough this after the easing of all those symptoms. This from that all winter long flu. A pal here commented that Flu was likely the COVID-19 itself, and I made it through.  Perhaps.  I've read of cases exactly like this where 2020 winter "Flu" patients after recovery had COVID antibodies.  This with them never knowing they had it.

Still this cough. An old radio comrade said she has the same, and its likely stress.  Makes sense what with seeing the shutdown of the world capital I live in. Also being on the cusp of witnessing hundreds of thousands to more than a Million die. I've been reading as much as I can from both sane, and profoundly insane sources. They both come up with the same numbers. 

However, for extremely different reasons.  The nutters say deliberate population culling. The sane say it's just a straight up Pandemic being badly managed. Either way this is deep shit. The math holds up...it's happening as we watch.

So here we are in rather extreme historic circumstances.  The unemployed are entering Great Depression numbers.  Societal stability in hot spots is still intact, but stressed...so far. 

'Seeing satellite images of mass graves in China, and North Korea,...lately Iran as well. These are not honest about their loses.  Btw some still say it's just a cold.  Amazing. Not even #45 sez that anymore. Both some acquaintances, and overheard conversations say it's nothing. 

Add to that people's favorite hates. It only kills black people Chinese poor people liberals Queers old people sinners all that. Human Beings are such shit.

On the upside with industry shut, and people not stinking up the planet as much. Nature is making fitful returns. The skies are clearing for the first time since the industrial revolution. Animals are wandering city streets, and the seas seem to be cleaning themselves faster that ecologists thought possible. The Earth Abides.

If we had actually disappeared from the planet. It would be near totally healed in just a few years at the current rate. As I've written I assumed it would take millions of years.  Weeks it turns out for a first stage healing.  Just a few years less than a decade likely for near total healing. This is hopeful...perhaps we'll learn from this. That, and stop shitting as much all over the damned planet.

I'm doing my part by shutting down my useless unread blogs that are taking up digital space everywhere. For now, just this slightly noticed Tumblr page stays.  I'd let my Facebook page go for now. But there's no way to actually turn the damned thing off. 

I already miss my friends there...which is most of them in these elder days. Also many of my deceased friends still have ghost pages up years after their passing. Me the same it looks like.  So I guess I have the option of going back. ...we’ll see.

Speaking of which the COVID total is now officially at One Million.  Actually, that's what's been tested or who died.  The actual number is 10x to 20x's that number. Think 15,000,000+ to over 25,000,000+ infected if you want truthful numbers. By 2022 could be a million deaths...this is now science fiction.

Btw the suppression of case #'s was and is an economic ploy. This from early in the Pandemic to keep business open. That or as #45 attempted to use as a strategy for an early re-opening.

40,000+ tested cases in NYS, and the Emerald City region where I’m posting from.  The true number is 800,000 untested cases.  A nearby hospital is stacking the dead in refrigeration trucks.

As for business as usual. This goes along with our owners' public attitude that the poor, and elderly were more than expendable for the good of the economy. They'll be "...glad to die for the economy" it was said. Hopefully current gerontocracy, rule by a small number of very wealthy mean old white guys. If we're lucky these persons that want us dead will themselves leave via COVID for the unknown country...goodbye, and blessed journey.

'Of course the Millennials won't be much better. However at least it'll be a different bunch of jerks in our faces with different, but just as destructive obsession's.

So you see it's going to work out swell. Otherwise, I'm fine.

(From my 2020 Covid Journals.)

[rayshippouuchiha]

I read “[Naruto] made budgeting and math his bitch” and all I want to say, to ask, is to consider the possibility that he’s the one in charge of Team 7’s budget? Please and thank you for your time.

It takes Naruto a bit to notice it. Takes a while for all the pieces to line up just right for him to see it.

His team, as talented as they all are, are absolute shit with money.

They're up north, huddled together on the roadside just inside of Tomi, the capital city of the midsized island that makes up Gold Country, when the truth comes out.

Their mission had been long and draining and they're all looking forward to a ship back to the mainland and a stop at an Inn for a night before they start the trek back to Konoha.

The only problem with that plan is the fact that everyone is flat broke.

Everyone, that is, except for Naruto. Which the other three would know if they'd bothered to ask him instead of assuming he was just as broke as they are.

Because Naruto's wallet is basically still as fat as ever despite the length of time they've been gone and the fact that he's done his definition of splurging at the shops in Tomi. He'd put the few hours where they'd split up before meeting again to start looking for a ship back to very very good use.

Supplies were always cheaper for him outside of Konoha proper where the shopkeepers don't know him and he's actually allowed to haggle. Plus their contractor, an ancient silk merchant named Kaede, had taken enough of a liking to Naruto to put in a good word for him at the local shops.

A courtesy that she, apparently, hadn't offered to the rest of the team or maybe just one they hadn't bothered to take her up on. Naruto isn't sure which it is exactly.

But if it's the second option then Naruto's not sure what to think. He'd never turn a discount or chance to haggle down, no matter how small it is. He knows better.

"Well," Kakashi-sensei says brightly. "Looks like we'll be running to the mainland and camping until we're back home. Let that be a lesson to all of us to bring more money next time."

Sakura looks like she's on the verge of either tears or a tantrum and Sasuke looks as blank as always except for the slightly displeased curl of his mouth.

Naruto finds himself a mix of both of their reactions because what?

Bring more money? That was Kakashi-sensei's solution? Just bring more? Like what Naruto knows was in each of their wallets before they left Konoha wasn't a good six months of Naruto's regular budget?

And they've got relatively little to show for the fact that they spent it all?

How??

It's in that moment that the truth hits Naruto directly in the face.

He's the only poor person on this Team. He's the only one of them who has ever had to actually worry about money.

Sakura has parents who actually love and house her, all her mission earnings are pure profit. Kakashi-sensei is probably the shinobi version of rich with his rank and all the high-level missions he's taken. And Sasuke is absolutely the shinobi version of rich with the wealth of an entire Clan at his disposal.

When they run out of money they just ... go get more.

Naruto, with his crumbling apartment and trap-wire thin budget, lives an entirely different kind of life.

They can probably just walk right into the Konoha bank he's sure they all use, the same one Naruto's never been allowed into, and just withdraw more money.

Not Naruto. All of his money, whatever he's scrimped and saved for, has always either been on his person or hidden away in a hollowed space beneath his bed.

For a long moment, Naruto debates with himself. Considers not saying anything and just following along with Kakashi's plan.

But, well, he does have the money and they are his Team.

So ...

"I got this," Naruto huffs out as he holds up his still bulging wallet. "But we're doing it my way and you'd all better pay me back if I spend anything."

He doesn't bother to listen to their protests or whatever they might say or do. Instead he turns on his heel and stalks off towards the docks, intent on finding them a ride to the mainland that doesn't make him want to gouge his eyes out at the price.

Half an hour later finds them settled on the deck of a small fishing vessel, warm pork buns in hand, and Naruto not missing a single yen.

The hoard of shadow clones he has practically crawling over the ship ended up being payment enough for the weathered-looking woman who'd given them passage.

He ignores the way the others stare at him and focuses on eating his lunch, mind already ticking over what Inns he remembers them passing and what he could do to get them a night's stay for the lowest cost possible.

With him in the lead, they manage to make it all the way back to Fire Country without having to pay for much of anything at all. Naruto had bartered everything from his shadow clones to Kakashi-sensei kissing the back of some woman's hand to his own help modeling a kimono while waitressing in his female form at a restaurant in Blouder City for food and lodging.

He'd actually like that last job the most since Tsubame-san had not only let him keep the kimono but he'd made a small fortune in tips as well.

It's not until they stop at the Black River Inn, the last waypoint before they reach Konoha proper, that Naruto finally steps back. Much to the puzzlement of the rest of the team, he lets Kakashi-sensei step up and rent them a room instead.

Tatsuyomi, the man who runs the inn, is the brother-in-law of the woman who runs the Tree Bud in Konoha.

He knows Naruto on sight.

It's not until they're settled into their shared room that night, the others eating a hot meal from the kitchen and Naruto eating the last of meat buns the cook Akira had slipped him before Naruto left the restaurant in Boulder, that someone finally asks.

"How'd you get so good with money, Naruto?" Sakura is the one to break the ice. "Figured you'd blow it all on ramen or something by now."

"He didn't actually pay for much," Sasuke points out quietly. "And nothing full price. He traded and haggled for everything instead."

"Still," Sakura presses. "He's the only one of us who isn't broke and he managed to get us a stay in every Inn we came across on the way home. Kind of weird."

Naruto stops, stares down that the cold meat bun in his hand, eyes squinted almost closed and shoulders tight.

He forces himself to breathe, to let the tension flow off and away.

He takes a bite of his bun.

Chews.

"I've never had parents," Naruto finds himself saying.

Around him the room goes absolutely silent.

"Don't have a Clan or a guardian or anything either," Naruto's shoulders shift restlessly, nails biting into the soft flesh of the bun in his hand. "Been living off the orphan's stipend since I was four. The pay from that is ... there's never been a lot to go around. There's always bills and supplies so I had to learn to make what I had really count. Being hungry for a long time sucks you know? Never want to do that again, not after the first few times. Not unless I have to."

"Y-You get mission pay now though right?" Sakura says, voice low and eyes wide.

"Don't get the stipend anymore though, that stopped when I got my headband," Naruto shrugs again, uncomfortable in his skin for a reason he can't properly name. "And mission pay gets split so ..."

The quiet is thick around them. Sasuke is practically glaring at his bowl and Kakashi-sensei's knuckles are white around the edges of his book.

"But yeah," Naruto finally says as he pushes himself up onto his feet, half eaten bun in hand, and turns to hop up onto the windowsill, "I learned money stuff real young. Probably the only school thing I was ever really good at."

A flex of muscle has him out the window and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling and conversation officially over.

The rest of the night and the journey back to Konoha proper is quiet.

The next time they go on an extended mission outside of the village it's Naruto who's in charge of any and everything even remotely money-related as soon as they pass the border.

And if their mission pay starts getting split three ways instead of four, well, Kakashi-sensei doesn't say anything so Naruto doesn't either.

[phoenixyfriend]

👀 PLease tell us your thoughts about the Jedi babies re-growing up among different cultural contexts.

Oh fuck okay

Context: original post, chrono The specific post this ask is referencing: here

Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka), are now staying with the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel because the Force said to, go back to the Temple after about a decade. They grabbed Shmi about three months after arriving.

So as far as the cultural background goes, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had similar upbringings. She spent a few years on Shili first, but both spent the majority of their childhoods up to age 13/14 being raised in the creche. So that's the basis that they would default to, in a vacuum.

Nobody is raised in a vacuum.

Along with the Jedi cultural background, they're being raised by Tatooine natives in a Mandalorian environment.

Shmi and Anakin are both former slaves who have desert survival baked into their bones. The longer Anakin spends around her, the more his accent slips, the more he talks about old folktales, the more he uses idioms that don't exist on a cityplanet like Coruscant. All the things that he tamped down to be a Jedi come floating back to the surface, and Shmi's never known anything else. Anakin's knowledge of slave customs make her feel more comfortable, which in turn makes him feel better, and so on.

Mandalore is just... the culture they're living in. You don't grow up in a new culture with a new language without picking up on it personally. (Source: I moved to the US when I was a little under two years old.)

I think the thing I'm going to focus on as an example is the way each of these cultures approaches family, and then maybe how they approach the keeping of peace/what peace means.

Jedi: Where you come from means little, only the legacy you leave behind in your students. Mandalore: You protect your clan and your children; adoption is a major cultural value, if not actually practiced consistently. Tatooine: You can lose your family at any time, so you value what you have in all its forms. You don’t forget where and who you came from, to family of blood and family of choice alike. You cling to your memories and what little you still have of them, to what your master cannot take away.

These are all valid ways to approach family, and each of these approaches can have significant meaning to different people. But they do all, to a certain degree, conflict with one another, despite all three being fairly communal cultures.

The Jedi have a culture, one that’s built on a shared ability and religion over thousands of years. It’s not just an organization, but a continuous community with legends and traditions and art and records. But it’s one that is built on new blood coming in from the outside, volunteers who join because the religion speaks to them (near literally, given the nature of Force Sensitivity), given up by families who couldn’t or wouldn’t teach them in a way that let their talents flourish instead of pushing it all down.

For the Jedi, a culture built on people coming together due to something they have in common intrinsically that their families of blood do not, it makes sense to put emphasis on letting go of that past when they can, and to place importance on teaching lineages. It’s not just the official master-padawan pairs, either, but that’s the most obvious and easily paralleled element. Moreover, a lot of the Jedi culture is about gaining knowledge, so obviously spreading it is good, and also on supporting the galaxy to make it a better place; to view the Jedi order as a heavily communal culture would make sense, since their values are all about selfless betterment of the universe, which on a larger scale is about the galactic conflicts, but on a smaller scale is about supporting their own community, the children and the ill and elderly.

So that is the specific culture that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka grew up in, one that holds blood family as relevant but not particularly crucial to one’s identity, but is structured so people leave behind legacies through education in a manner that often becomes adoptive family (depending on your definition, I guess). Jedi are encouraged to connect to their home cultures, if not their families, with practices like the coming of age hunt for Togruta leading to the young Jedi taking a trip out to Shili to engage in that cultural milestone. This can also be viewed as a way for the Jedi to maintain personal connections to the wider universe, a (not entirely successful, but certainly attempted) way of keeping them from becoming too isolated and insular from the universe at large, and losing touch from what the galaxy actually needs of them.

They’re now growing up with two cultures that do place emphasis on blood and found family.

Mandalore, as presented in The Mandalorian, has their traditional values set as being heavily associated with their armor, battle skills, and childcare. While that’s clearly a set of values that aren’t actually followed by everyone with full sincerity, we can assume that these stated cultural values do have at least some impact on the way the society is structured, since we do see more traditional characters (Jaster, Din) adopt orphaned children and then have the Mandalorian elements of their immediate circles support that claim.

(We’ll ignore Jango and the whole clone army thing because the amount of Sith influence is up for debate and also holy trauma, Batman.)

However, we also see that a lot of Mandalorian culture is built on their family histories. On the New Mandalorian side, we see emphasis placed on the fact that Satine is House Kryze and that she’s a duchess. Her bloodline is relevant, though not the most important thing about her. On the Death Watch side, we have Pre and Tor placing emphasis on the fact that they’re Clan Vizsla, descended from Tarre, that this is important to why they deserve what the darksaber represents, this is part of why they not only deserve to lead, but should for the good of Mandalore.

Bo-Katan’s armor is a family heirloom. Boba’s armor was Jango’s, but before being Jango’s, it was Jaster’s. Armor is important enough to pass to family, but the family can be adopted. This all tracks.

The resol’nare specifies loyalty and care for the clan/tribe among the six tenets.

These two elements seem relatively well-balanced: the importance of adoption and the importance of family as a larger unit on the level of a house or clan.

And then you have Tatooine, which also balances blood and adoption, but for entirely different reasons, that being this: it can always be taken from you.

For all that a Mandalorian could historically expect their family to die in battle, and a Jedi could expect to lose their master the same way if things went poorly, those were usually choices. A Mandalorian was raised to walk into battle, and then they could make that choice to do so. It wasn’t often much of a choice, but they could feasibly turn their back and choose to be a farmer or a doctor or something, and support the people who went out to do battle instead of being the one on the field themselves. A Jedi could choose to be a healer or an archivist or join one of the Corps.

A slave does not get that choice. A slave can be killed or sold on a whim from their master. It’s not a one-time trauma, but an ever-present fear. Your parent, your child, your sibling, your spouse, all of them can be separated from you at any time. You can always lose them, and you have no choice but to grin and bear it, or try to run and die before you reach freedom.

In a context like that, I imagine Tatooine places a very heavy emphasis on family, both of blood and of choice, and on treasuring what you have while you have it. A person is always aware that they can lose whoever they have in their life, and so they make the most of their times together, have clear and consistent ways of expressing that love (I imagine primarily direct verbal confirmations and physical contact, practical gifts like water and fruit). Childcare is important, elders are venerated. Those who survived that far have valuable wisdom, and the children are to be given what happiness they can have before reality wipes that ability from them.

The family ‘networks’ among Tatooine slaves are smaller and tighter knit. There’s less trust for outsiders, but once you’re in, you’re in until you are taken away. Still, families are torn apart regularly, and often can’t contact each other after being separated if they’re sold far enough away, so families stay small because they’re always being broken up. Unlike Mandalore’s tribe/clan system, or the Jedi’s wide, loosely-structured community, Tatooine’s slaves form smaller groups that cling for as long as they can, and try to support each other. (There are selfish ones, of course, especially the newbies, but... well. Most try.)

Tatooine is also much more likely to assign a familial role (e.g. referring to an elder as ‘grandmother’). It’s not uncommon in the others (multiple Jedi refer to their masters as a parent or sibling, like Anakin’s “you’re like a father to me” line), but it’s not as baked-in that such a role should be given.

So on a structural level, we have two people from a community culture with little emphasis on blood family or formal familial roles are now being raised in a community that has them asking “what can you do for the people around you first, and then the wider world?” by people who tell them “your family, blood and found, is the most important thing you have; never let anyone take more from you than they possibly can.”

And that shit has an effect.

For all that Sokanth and Ylliben were once raised with a knowledge that their duty, their goal, was to better the galaxy as a whole, they are now being told that the community that raises them asks their loyalty back, because societies are built on support networks, and if you support the tribe, it will support you. There are parallels to that kind of thinking among Jedi, because it is basic social theory, but it’s not presented as the same kind of cultural value. It’s not given as something to strive for, just a basic fact.

This, for instance, means that once they’re back at the Temple, they have a tendency towards suggesting study groups and other ways of supporting people in their immediate circle, often structured in very unfamiliar ways. Again, this isn’t uncommon among Jedi, but it’s not done in the same way, or with the same emphasis. The Jedi also often approach problem-solving in a different order, so the step of “meditate on it and you may find your solution” often comes before “gather information from people who know more about it than you do,” while Ben and Soka have by this point learned to do it the other way around, because that’s what the Mandalorian system taught them: rely on your family first.

Meanwhile, the Tatooine element of their upbringing has them being much more willing to just... casually refer to ‘my dad’ and ‘my sister’ and so on. They use those words. It’s not just “my master is like a father to me,” but “this is my father.” They don’t hesitate to talk about the family they had and still have in Mandalorian space. None of the Jedi begrudge them it, really, but it’s always a shock to hear for the first time, and between the Tatooine refusal to pretend the connection is gone and the Mandalorian tendency to err on the side of roughhousing as affection, they’re just... odd. It’s not like none of the other Jedi know family outside the Order--some of the old books had Obi-Wan visiting his brother on Stewjon once in a while--or like none of the active Jedi are loud or boisterous, but the specific manner in which Soka and Ben interact with the Order, especially when their dad is around, is very weird.

More Soka than Ben, really, but that’s mostly just because Ben’s a very quiet person until he gets a little older, so it’s harder to notice on him.

Point is, while they still hold to their duty to the wider galaxy and will continue to keep that duty above almost anything else in their lives, the way they talk and act about the subject of family, especially in private, is heavily influenced by their new cultures.

This is already very long but I promised I’d talk about peace so let’s go:

The Jedi seek peace as an absence of war and conflict in the portion of the galaxy under their purview, in hopes that they will prevent as much suffering and death as they can.

The Mandalorians are varied, but Jaster Mereel’s group (which is the community the Skywalkers are with) is likely to view peace as unrealistic to achieve in the long term. They do not seek war, but they know the world they live in, and are prepared to protect against violence as their first resort. They always expect an attack, even if they don’t seek it.

The Slaves of Tatooine view peace as the calm in a storm. It is the status quo. Nobody has escaped tonight, for the guards aren’t searching, but neither is anyone dead. The Master you have is in a good enough mood to not sell you, to not kill you, to not beat you. Peace as an absence of suffering is impossible, so you seek for your master to be peaceful, that is to say: not raging at you.

The scope of each of these narrows significantly. From the known galaxy, to the wars that meet Mandalorian space, to the household one serves.

A community like the Jedi can choose to address peace as something to be sought on a large scale as an absence of war. They primarily function within the borders of the Republic, which has its problems but is largely structured to prevent such things from occurring until the Sith interfere. The Jedi have a structure that allows them to address peace as an ideal to be sought, at least within the borders of the territory they serve.

Mandalore, meanwhile, has been at war on and off for... ever. When they are not at war with themselves, they’re at war with someone else. ‘Peace’ is just the time between wars, and they know that if they do not attack first, they will be forced to defend. Jaster Mereel was known as the Reformer, and part of that was that instituting a code of honor, one that was intended to prevent Mandalorian warriors from acting as raiders and brigands, but rather acting as honorable hired soldiers, or taking roles such as the Journeyman Protectors. Given that, I imagine that he views war as something inevitable, but also something that can be mitigated.

War doesn’t touch Tatooine.

Oh, it might raise taxes and import rates. It might prevent visitors who come for the races. It can do a lot of things.

But to a slave, these are nothing. The only thing war does is affect the master, the person who chooses when their slaves get water, when they get beaten, when they are no longer useful enough to keep around or keep alive.

The peace of a slave’s live is dictated by how much abuse they are subjected to by the person who owns them.

What this means for Soka and Ben is... well, they are viewed as war-hungry by the people who don’t know them very well. They have armor. They focus on fighting, both with and without their sabers. They know tactics better than most masters. They claim that war is coming, and don’t seem too sad about it.

(It is a fact to them. War will come. All they can do is meet it. They’ve already done their mourning once.)

They also... well, Shmi tells them things in hidden corners. How to duck their head to hide the hate or fear in their eyes. How to watch for the anger in the tendons of a hand. The laugh of someone who enjoys the pain they’ve caused, not just the adrenaline of a fight. She is free, and so are they, but she has not forgotten how to hide in the shadows until the master’s ire has turned elsewhere. How to be small and quiet and unseen until the danger passes.

A Jedi’s first resort is words. Their second is their saber. But the Jeedai hold their heads high, and the Mandalorians do the same.

“You rely on the Force, and you have your pride,” she tells them, her hands on their own. “But there will come a time when you will not be able to remind people that you are free. You will not be able to say that you are a person, that you deserve the respect of a living sentient. Perhaps it will be a politician who treats everyone like that. Perhaps you will be captured by an enemy. Perhaps you will be undercover. You will not be able to fight, with words or with weapons, and you will have to know how to survive.”

Tatooine does not have peace. Tatooine only has survival.

And while Jedi fight for the survival and peace of the universe, they are refined and composed. Mando’ade fight like warriors of old, and Tatooine slaves fight like cornered, rabid anooba.

The galaxy comes first, but when the chips are down and the Sith come out to play, Soka and Ben do not need refinement, because they know how to toss aside their pride and live.

[arcane-temp-fandomblog]

Arcane details / Two versions of "Goodbye" song lyrics

There are two songs in Arcane that have subtitles, and both of them have different actual lyrics and subtitle lyrics. Goodbye has two sets of lyrics or someone messed up really badly when transcribing them. I assume the former.

I'll put under the actual song lyrics that are sung (from official riot music account)

(Actual song lyrics) I can hear the sound of a heartbeat

before it goes out

Won’t ever leave my memory of bloodshed all around

I can see a tear on my father’s face before it falls out (this is one line in the lyrics)

before it falls out Oh my enemy, (this is one line in the lyrics with the next one)

how could I have ever let you down, oh

When all these trees saw us grow, cut our teeth, and make our bones right here We’d play with shields made of stone, share our dreams and sit our thrones

Be still, ’cause I see smoke up ahead and I got steel in my hands We will return like warriors I swear that we’ll find glory up ahead Tell me, ->

-> where is my home? I don’t recognize the faces anymore, no Where is my friend? The one I’ve known since I was only just a kid (same onward from lyrics and subtitles) I think it's time to say goodbye Goodbye, Goodbye

So, did someone messed up transcription, or is this song coming back next season? Or is this alternative POV for Powder of the same song - I assume we only hear Vi's version of the song vocally. Because sung lyrics are definitely Vi's journey in act 2/3.

Or are the lyrics from Silco? About Vander?

Or Powder / Vi after the scene is flipped? Or someone else?

Btw. the "We'll show them all" in both episodes lands within 20 seconds of each other from the end of the episode full length. I checked. The story has come full circle. The only other song with double (well if we only count abridged in show version - otherwise triple) version of lyrics is the one in the episode before. Other songs don't have transcribed lyrics. But most of them are either about Zaun's reality, what change is to come from Jinx's action it plays over or POV fight songs. Like most of end of arc songs have spoilers for next one for characters - and mostly Piltover as a whole: ie. Guns for Hire imo has references for at least 3 characters & Piltover, and plays over alongside other parts Marcus setting up the barricade

Woodkid - Guns for Hire (Jayce's part) Kiss your perfect day goodbye Because the world is on fire (Caitlyn's &/or Jayce's part) Tuck your innocence goodnight You sold your friends like guns for hire

But the most importantly, it already foreshadows in lyrics what is to come in act 3 about Piltover's situation:

Not a good time to lose control Right as your marionettes cut their strings and run away You’re out time, make your move Live or die while the fuse is lit and there’s no turning back

Can't wait for Season 2 to know what exactly "What could have been" alluded to. Other posts by me - Arcane meta analysis posts - mostly politics, tech and character parallels