#and they come in for rotten produce my dad leaves out

[burnwater13]

Grogu was feeling much better. His dad had remembered something Ahsoka Tano had told him and whatever it was, Grogu was feeling 100% not Sithy. His eyes weren’t red. He wasn’t cackling. He didn’t even have an urge to create a hot foot for his dad when he suggested that Grogu help with the daily chores!

R5 had managed to get him everything on his list for the big, ‘It’s a dark and stormy night of scary stories that didn’t really happen Clan Mudhorn’ festivities. His dad had been surprised at how long that list of stuff had been, but then he was the one who suggested that they come up with a family celebration of some sort, right? Right.

Now Grogu was going to start making the decorations, set pieces, and stuff like that, while his dad built the storage shed it all needed to go in until the big night. Grogu realized that his dad must have felt really sorry for him getting so sick from visiting the old Imp base that the Mandalorian even let R5 help Grogu with his tasks while he built the shed on his own. 

It was a perfect day out too. Not too hot, not too windy, not too much sulfur in the air. The sulfur thing was something they were both still getting used to as they lived on Nevarro. Every once in a while a volcano was erupt or even just ‘burp’ and that would spew hot ash and all sorts of volcanic gases into the air. If the wind direction was just right, you could smell rotten eggs for klicks. 

As they both worked on what his dad was calling the ‘Clan Mudhorn Project’, Grogu hummed to himself and was happy to hear his dad singing in a soft voice. Who knew that a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter could have such a nice voice for singing songs like ‘Dads are Great’ and Grogu’s favorite song by Crushing Imps, ‘Never Really Gone’. 

When they stopped for lunch they had both made a lot of progress. Grogu and R5 had produced a number of ‘flats’ that  could be positioned in any room and even outside to give the impression that you were in the Imperial Laboratory and looking at various stages of the cloning process. During the day they just looked flat, but in limited lighting, well, they would glow from the luminescent paint R5 had brought back from his shopping excursion. That would give them an appropriate level of creepiness without being down right frightening. It was all about balance. 

Which reminded Grogu of Ahsoka Tano and how she knew that she wasn’t really the right mentor for him. He knew his dad had been conflicted about that. He’d really wanted to fulfill his mission parameters, but he didn’t actually want Grogu to leave him. For his own part, Grogu hadn’t wanted to leave the Mandalorian either. 

They were a great team and had accomplished a lot together and that sort of thing didn’t just happen by mistake. Nope. Master Yoda used to say, ‘The Force knows where you should be. Be where the Force calls you.’ Or words to that effect. Basically it meant trust yourself to know where you belonged. Grogu knew he belonged with his dad. He was glad that Ahsoka Tano had understood that as well. 

That’s when it occurred to Grogu to ask the Mandalorian if he knew where the Jedi was. 

“Sorry buddy. I think we’d have to reach out to Luke and ask him. I’m not even sure where he is right now. I don’t think we have time to go to Ossus or Tython if you still want to have the festival on the day we selected.”

Dank Farrik! That stunk. And not just of sulfur. Grogu was certain that Ahsoka Tano would want to sit with them and tell scary stories about things that had never happened. Based on what he remembered about her time at the Jedi Temple, the only problem would be her not accidentally telling a story about something that had happened. 

Grogu then asked his dad who he’d like to have join in the Clan Mudhorn fun, if he could have anyone in the whole galaxy be there. His dad was quiet for a while and Grogu wondered if his simple question had made the Mandalorian sad some how. He hadn’t meant to do that. 

“I think this is something I would like my Mandalorian family to participate in. Not just the members of the Tribe, but my mentor and his family. He was a great story teller and that’s how I learned what a bounty hunter does.” 

Well, well, well. Grogu had always assumed that his dad had taken classes and seminars to build up his knowledge and skills. Bounty Hunting 101, How to Get Paid in the Currency You Prefer, Tracking, Trapping, and Freezing - A Bounty Hunter’s Guide to Bringing Them in Cold, and Applied Techniques for When You Have to Bring Them in Warm. 

Who knew that he also had a mentor? Well, Grogu would add that to his list of things to do and hope it was something that could be accomplished one way or the other. No. He wasn’t going to try to make a clone of his dad’s old mentor, although that thought had merit. Maybe he could just find someone who could cosplay that role. How hard could that be? He just needed a talented actor, some old Mandalorian armor, a person who knew the Mandalorian way back then and his mentor. Easy, peasy, right? He could do this, right?

“Do it!” A wheezing, raspy voice gasped. 

Grogu looked around but didn’t see anyone or anything, other than his dad, who clearly hadn’t heard anything other than the song he was humming by Crushing Imps. Maybe Grogu wasn’t completely over his Sith Flu after all…

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Chapter 20(M)

Chapter 20: "좀 급하지만 네 마음속에 이미 꽉 찬"

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Pairing: Idol!RM/Namjoon x OFC

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Rating: M

Status: COMPLETE

[AN: A lot of things happen in this chapter. It all takes place in a matter of days, which is why the chapter is so long. We are getting near the end, and this chapter is one of the last ones before things take a turn]

Trigger warning: description—not too graphic—of sexual assault, talk of trauma. If you want to skip the portion, there will be **** symbols at the beginning and end of it.

warnings/spoilers: oral sex (male and female receiving), deep throat, gagging

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 2021

Malibu, CA, USA

I made my way through my family’s ranch. Seeing the horses brought a warmth I had been feeling seldom lately. My childhood horse passed many years ago. I hadn’t ridden much since, feeling it would be a betrayal. However, every time I saw one of those divine creatures, the emotions Selena—my horse—used to bring me always came flooding back. I loved this property. Loved the goats, the donkeys, the chickens, and the turkeys. It brought me solace from the shithole house I lived in. My parents’ house was huge, but there was no corner that could hide me from the black cloud that hovered. The hatred that plagued that house since before I was born still remained. As I came to the front door, my stomach turned. Emotions from childhood began to creep their way to the surface.

I had been in LA for over a week and I still hadn’t seen my parents. I had made every excuse in the book not to visit, but finally, I ran out of shit excuses to avoid them. Thankfully, I was planning on staying for only a couple of hours. I had already made Ky promise to call me to give me an excuse to leave. Plus, there was my Tia Jia who had agreed to come over as well, so that would help.

Taking a breath, I settled myself and knocked on the door.

A brunette, petite woman who looked like a retired model answered. Her hair and makeup were perfectly applied; the clothes on her making her glow like a goddess. My mother really was a beauty….

Her brown eyes did a once-over on me. “You haven’t been exercising while you’ve been gone? Mayahuel, you know noodles always make your face plump.”

…too bad her soul was rotten. “Hello to you too, Madre.”

She dismissed me and barely grazed my body with her arms—her version of a hug. More criticism came out of her mouth as she led the way into the house.

I noticed my father—tall, dark, and with the world’s thickest mustache—sitting on his normal chair in the corner of the living room. He was reading one of his many magazines. He barely looked up at seeing me and sent me a nod. Nice to see you too, Dad, I said silently to myself.

When we got to the kitchen, she went directly to the coffee. It was one of the few things I agreed wholeheartedly with my mother: coffee was good at any time of the day. She took out two cups and poured them to the rim. She put creamer in one and was about to put some in the other one when I stopped her, reminding her that I took mine with sugar only.

My mother gave a dismissive wave. “I always confuse you with your brothers.”

I really wanted to respond with the fact that one of my brothers didn’t like coffee and the other drank it straight black—no creamer or sugar. I was only going to be here for a couple of hours, though. I really didn’t want to spend it picking fights.

“So, I hear that you’ve been meeting up with some labels during your stay here,” my mother said bluntly.

I just about spat out my coffee. “Who told you?”

My mother looked unimpressed, almost offended. “You do realize that I’ve been in this industry for decades before you. I may no longer be a recording artist, but I am a songwriter and producer—I have ears almost everywhere.”

Of course I knew, but I didn’t think that word would get to her so quickly. I took another sip of coffee, wishing there was some kalua in it. “I’ve met with a couple already.”

“How have they gone?”

Horribly, I want to say, but I won’t. It’s my pride. I don’t want to admit that I—a platinum-selling, record-breaking, multi-winning recording artist—had just been offered two very shit deals. Honestly, I didn’t even want to think about their offers; it felt like a slap in the face.

Kyung had laughed in their faces, believing at first it was a joke, but when he saw they were serious, he hadn’t been interested in continuing the meetings—both times. We were in and out of that building in less than twenty minutes. The first time had felt bizarre, but this second one we had the other day went similarly and gave me self-doubt. Had I put too much value on myself?

Before I had a chance to answer my mother, we heard a voice coming from the front door.

As we turned towards the hall entrance, I was welcomed by a Korean woman making her way toward us. She was of medium height, slightly heavy, and had the warmest smile. Every time I saw it, I felt an ease run through me.

Tia Jia immediately hugged and kissed me. This was the ninth time we had seen each other since I had arrived, but I wasn’t about to tell my mother that.

“You come in right on time,” my mother said, grabbing another mug. “Mayahuel was about to tell us how these meetings have gone with some labels.”

Tia Jia gave a blank smile. I fought back a laugh. Truth was, my Tia Jia already knew everything. I had called her no more than ten minutes after walking out of each meeting. But, again, I wasn’t about to tell my mother that.

My mother continued to talk. “If they aren’t able to meet your list of demands, just know your old label would meet every one of them. I talked to Chad not so long ago and he said—”

“You what?” I asked. Hearing the name made my stomach drop.

“I talked to Chad—” My mother continued.

“Why?” Anger began to rumble. I had told my mother long ago that I had gotten into an argument with one of the heads, which was the reason why I had left. She had been badgering me so much about why I had decided not to resign from my contract, that I felt pressured to tell her something. Mostly, because I believed she would have started snooping around if I didn’t give her something.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal, Mayahuel. Let bygones be bygones,” she said dismissively. “You never were one to have the patience for a few disagreements.”

No, I just wasn’t one who had the patience for the screaming, yelling, name-calling, and throwing objects, I wanted to say to her. But I kept on topic. “Madre, I told you that this wasn’t some small argument. This was serious. I was disrespected and there is no way in hell that I’m going to ever work with them again.”

Before my mother could let out another word, my tia Jia interceded. She settled my mother down. She had dealt with the woman for almost all her life—they had been best friends since they were teenage girls. No one seemed to settle my mother better than my tia Jia.

Thankfully, my mother agreed to change the topic.

I gave my tia a look of complete gratefulness.

“Have you told your mother about Thanksgiving?” Tia Jia asked.

My mother’s face did not look pleased. “What about it?”

I decided to just rip the Band-Aid. “Well, I wanted to have it over my place. My friends from Korea are going to be here for their concert and I wanted to invite them. They’ve been great with me while I’ve been living there—especially Namjoon. He always had me over during a holiday. His entire family was always welcoming.”

“Namjoon is a good man,” Tia Jia said warmly. “You’ve met him before, Tlali. He’s the tall one. Incredibly smart—very handsome.”

“Who?” my mother looked utterly lost.

“From the group of friends Mayita has. The Korean group.”

It took a while for my mother to figure it out. “Oh. They’re all tall.”

“Well, he’s the tallest,” I said. “And I’m going to invite them for Thanksgiving. I figured it would be nice to do something for them. I would like all my loved ones in one room.”

My mother didn’t say anything, just wore a slight frown and looked out into the distance. It was the look I knew all too well: she was trying to be polite and not say anything rude.

The unsettling feeling in my stomach I usually felt when I knew my mother was judging me immediately took over. Honestly, sometimes I preferred hearing her be rude than imagining what she might be thinking.

“It’s going to be fun,” Tia Jia insisted, her voice upbeat and light. “Do you want to make the menu right now? We have time.”

Tia Jia’s excitement rubbed off. I took out my phone and the pair of us began to look up dishes.

“Want some more, honey?” my tia Jia asked, motioning to my empty mug.

I nodded.

She took it and poured some coffee, adding two tablespoons of sugar and handing it to me.

As I took a sip of the coffee, I noticed my mother's demeanor change. I know she had noticed it. Tia Jia knew my preference for coffee. A small part of me felt bad….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, I walked out of my third meeting with label. And for the third time, I was walking away feeling completely off. Enough so that I knew it wasn’t something I could ignore anymore. My intuition was screaming at me that something was going on.

Kyung was walking with me, getting into the driver’s side as I got into the passenger’s side. Once both inside, I let it out. “What the fuck is going on?”

Kyung drove out of the parking spot. He was silent until we were out of the lot. “I was really hoping it was just me or that the other two labels were just being dickheads for other reasons. But now….” He shook his head in disgust.

I finished his thinking. “It’s like they’re offering me a shitty contract on purpose so I won’t sign with them. That deal is something you offer a rookie who doesn’t know the first thing about the industry. They might as well spit at me.” Anger was starting to boil inside me.

Kyong began to speak again, “I wasn’t lying to you when I said they were the ones who wanted you more than the other labels. I scheduled to meet them third on purpose. I wanted to see what the other two companies were offering so we could work that to our advantage. But it seems as if the offers are getting worse.” He looked more pissed than how he sounded.

I had known Kyung all my life. Before he was my manager and business partner, he had been an important figure growing up. As much as Tia Jia was like a mother to me, Kyung was like a brother. From his facial expressions, I knew when he was controlling his anger. “What’s up?”

It took a moment. He was trying to gather his thoughts and emotions before speaking up. “A buddy of mine who still works at the old label tipped me off the other day. Some rumor he had heard from top executives. Apparently, some didn’t take well with you rejecting to meet with them. We shouldn’t be surprised that they heard of us meeting with other companies for possible contracts—it’s hard to keep a secret in this industry. According to my buddy, the execs in the old label are trying to block you from signing.”

Suddenly, I remembered my mother’s words about talking to Chad. Had she known about my meetings with other labels before talking to Chad? Had she told Chad? Had Chad tried using my mother to get to me—to get me to come crawling to them? Fuck, he probably did.

Kyung’s eyes were on the road; he couldn’t see how upset I was. “I knew they weren’t going to be happy about us rejecting their meeting, but to go this far? Maybe I should give them a call and try to settle things with them.”

“No,” I said as I turned away so he wouldn’t see how pissed I was at this suggestion.

I knew he was looking at me. “Why?”

“I don’t want anything to do with them, Kyung. I’ve said this too many times.” I was getting snappy and I didn’t want to.

Kyung wasn’t one to easily let things go, though. “Maya, I really don’t know why you can’t give me an answer. What happened? I know something did—I thought maybe it was with one individual in the company you had an issue with, but now it seems as if it’s the entire company that fucked you over.”

I refused to tell him. For too many reasons, he couldn’t know. I had told two people about the incident—my tia Jia and Dr. Rob. I don’t think I could ever tell another soul.

Kyung let out a heavy sigh. “It must be bad if you can’t even tell me. It only makes me think the worse, you know? You tell me almost everything. How bad is it that you can’t tell me?”

I stayed silent.

Then, I noticed us pulling into a parking lot. It was mostly empty. I turned to Kyung, confused about why we were here.

He parked the car, unbuckled himself, and fully turned to me. His face was a pale white, his hands and lips were shaking slightly. I had never seen him look like this. “It’s scaring me, Maya. I’m thinking the unimaginable here.” His eyes were watery and desperate. “Please don’t tell me it’s what I think it is.”

My own eyes were starting to form tears of their own. Horrible images creeping their way up. I fought to keep control.

“Did someone…do something to you?” he was struggling getting the words out. The tears were coming down.

I couldn’t hold it together anymore. Seeing him come apart sent me downward. I felt myself shaking, feeling the anger, the disgust, the hurt, and the embarrassment all at once.

His arms were around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. I clutched to him, letting myself feel it all as those goddamn images came flooding back to the surface.

**He squeezed. As if he had done it before. As if it belonged to him.

There was an eerie glint in his eyes. The clear-blue eyes that I once thought to be full of kindness were now baring down at me in a vile way.

My skin crawled and I wanted nothing more than to push him off and run out of there. But for the first time in my life, I had no control of my body. With a simple claw on my body, this piece of shit had overpowered me.

Hot breath was on me and I wanted to be stabbed, just so I could feel something else.** 

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Kyung’s voice pulled me out of my horrific past. “We won’t ever deal with them, I promise. But know I’m here for whenever you want to talk, ok?”

I only nodded, not trusting my voice.

He kissed the top of my head. “If you’re scared of how I’ll react, I swear on Yori and my kids I won’t say a thing to the guys. I promise.”

It was one of the reasons I didn’t want him to know the truth. Kyung was close with my brothers and guy cousins. We had all grown up together and the guys had an old school mentality when it came to handling certain things. I still remember the hell they gave my first ex who treated me like shit. The piece of shit who assaulted me had done worse. I had enough reason to suspect that this could lead to legal trouble for the guys if they found out.

Then, there was the added layer of them be disappointed in me. Growing up, they had taught me how to defend myself. Taught me what to do if anyone dared put his hands on me. I knew how to box, for crying out loud. How had I just let it happen? Their disappointment in me would only deepen the disappointment I had on myself.

Dr. Rob had emphasized time and time again that it wasn’t my fault. Shock was common in assault victims. However, I had never accepted that in myself.

Once out of his embrace, he smiled sweetly. “Eomma knows?”

I nodded.

“Good. As long as she knows, it’s all that matters,” he said with complete sincerity. He continued to soothe me until I was calm and no more tears were coming down. “You good?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.”

He held my eyes as he spoke, “You call the shots, Maya. You always have. I’ll find you the perfect home, I promise. And then you’re gonna kick ass, record the most amazing album, win a shit ton of awards, and break multiple records. Those sons of bitches are going to regret it.”

The fire in his eyes and voice gave me some power.

“Hell, even if we can’t find the perfect home, you can still record and release this album without backup. And I’ll be sure to spread the word that you released it on your own because no label took you seriously. They’ll be walking with their tail between their legs from the embarrassment.”

I felt a boost of confidence, Kyung’s words affecting me in a positive way.

He was right, we were going to use this as fuel. We’d make them all regret it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, things began to look up. Bangtan had landed in LA. Because I had a close relationship with the coordinator of the trip, I managed to sneak my way into the vehicle Namjoon was going to be riding in. I had made it seem as if I was doing a prank on him that the rest of the guys were in on.

It worked and I was currently in the back seat of the black van. The van was parked in a section inside LAX that had a private exit. I had told the coordinator and guys about the exit.

The partition on the vehicle was up, so we would have privacy.

Namjoon was the first to enter the vehicle. Those dark brown, dragon eyes were the first thing I saw. He had his mask on, so I couldn’t see his deep dimples. I felt like I was six years old seeing Disneyworld for the first time.

He made his way to the back of the van, pulled down his mask, and leaned his entire body into me. His lips immediately sought my own. His baseball cap bumped into me, so I took it off.

I enthusiastically welcomed him, throwing the cap to the side, and wrapping my arms around his wide back. “Hi,” I mumbled in between kisses. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” he mumbled back, his lips not wanting to leave mine as well.

“Get a room!” came Jimin’s voice.

Namjoon pulled away at the reminder we weren’t alone. He let out an irritated sigh and sat down properly. His arm came around the back of my seat.

I took his seatbelt and buckled him in, noticing he had forgotten to do so. “It’s a good thing you guys were able to use this terminal.” I reached over to Jimin and pinched his cheeks in a greeting fashion. He gave me one of his eye smiles.

“It’s a good thing you told the team about it,” J-Hope said as he buckled himself into his seat. “If you hadn’t mentioned it, we would have gone through the main terminal.” He reached over and gave me a high five.

“I thought I had told you guys about it before. It’s a major benefit after flying private all my life, I got to learn all the hacks of LAX,” I said as the door closed.

I turned back to Namjoon who was looking fondly at me. My cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. I fell into my seat, his arm circling my shoulders. “I missed you,” I whispered to him, letting out what I had been feeling since leaving his apartment in Seoul.

His face inched closer to mine, his hand caressing my neck and pulling my face to his. “I missed you, too.” With his forehead against mine, he closed his eyes and breathed in. He looked calm, at ease.

I reached up to touch his face and noticed a change. His strips were gone. He had gotten a new cut and the strips had faded. While I had enjoyed the strips along his hair, he hadn’t been a fan of them. He tended to prefer a mullet style—which, personally, was my least favorite on him. But it was his hair, and I really didn’t care too much how he styled or cut it. As long as I had hair to pull and hold on to…..

The sudden image of his mouth wrapped around my pussy and his tongue inside me came to mind. I tried to shake it off. It hadn’t been two weeks since the last time we slept together and already I was horny. I blamed him. If he wasn’t so great, I wouldn’t crave him so much.

“I wouldn’t get too attached to it,” he warned as I stroked his hair.

Instantly, I hoped he didn’t mean he was going to dye it again. It really was the only thing that slightly bothered me. The constant dyeing and bleaching worried me. “Are you getting another haircut?” I asked, hopeful.

“No, I’m bleaching it again,” he said cautiously.

I must have made a face.

“You say I look good blond,” he said immediately as if he was trying to ease my worry.

He really did good as a blond, but I doubted his scalp felt it was worth it.

“I promise to keep away from the mullet,” he offered like a negotiation—like I wouldn’t let him. “And it won’t be toobleached.”

I really didn’t want to make this a big deal. It was his goddamn hair. And he was a grown adult. No one in the company bullied him into doing anything he really didn’t want to do. That was years in the past. I really shouldn’t be a Debbie Downer about this.

I shook my head at myself. “Namjoon, I’m not your mother. It’s your hair. It’s up to you what you want to do with it.”

“Yeah, but you’re my girl. You’re gonna be the one mostly looking at it.”

I smiled at his title for me. I had missed it. And, honestly, it’s all I needed to make me stop worrying about his hair. I took ahold of his shirt and tugged at it, pulling his beauty closer. “Handsome, I mostly look at your gorgeous face. The hair is just there for me to pull at.”

He let out a low moan and filled the gap between us, kissing me open-mouthed.

Nothing but fake gags could be heard in the vehicle.

I pulled away from Namjoon, settling in my seat. “Anything I missed since I last saw you?”

“Just a bit of a mess with Jungkook and Yuna,” Jimin said, a mischievous look on his face.

“What happened?” I asked, fully absorbed in the gossip.

Hoseok went on to explain the mess the youngest member had recently gotten into that involved his girlfriend. It hadn’t been pleasant but thankfully had been cleaned up. The news outlets didn’t get wind of it, thankfully.

By the sounds of it, it seemed as if there was trouble in paradise with the young couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a nice visit to LACMA, Namjoon and I arrived at my house with Kogi. We had eaten some of the tacos on the drive with Namjoon feeding me. The original idea had been to eat once getting to my house, but the smell had been too intoxicating. It was one of my favorite places to eat in LA and hadn’t had it in years. Initially, Namjoon didn’t deem it safe enough for me to eat while driving. I tried using logic, reminding him how good of a driver I was—I had been taught how to drive by my brother and cousins who were drag racers. When that didn’t work, I pouted. And finally, I got my first bite. At seeing my happy wiggle, he kept feeding me. I made a mental note about this—now I knew what would work later for my benefit.

We spoke a little about the crappy offers by the labels, Namjoon also believed there was something fishy going on.

"Haven't you mentioned before that your mother knows a lot of people?" he asked. "Why not see if she can snoop around to see what she can find?"

My stomach churned at the thought.

I didn't have to say anything for Namjoon to understand my physical response. I think he could even hear how upset my stomach was. "Is it really that difficult asking her for a favor? She's your mother, Maya."

Namjoon always wanted to see the best in people, but he had been blessed with amazing parents. He had never known what it felt like to be neglected—and I was grateful for that ignorance. "I trusted my mother a long time ago. More times than I can count. And she always manages to let me down. Do you know what that feels like? At age 2, 8, 14, 23 to trust another person enough with your emotions only for them to spit at them? I tell my mother I have a feeling that someone at my own old company is trying to sabotage me and she'll openly laugh at me—she's done it before on multiple occasions. I lost count of the number of times when she has said, word for word, 'no one cares about your feelings.'"

When I first started therapy, it had been difficult to admit these feelings I had about my mother—I could never get through it without crying. Now, it was easier. But it still cut deep.

"I'm sorry," Namjoon said gently, his hand soothing me.

I took a breath. "It's easy to let people in. But thanks to my parents' shitty job, it's hard to let someone back in. And I hit my limit with my parents. I can't anymore with them."

We finally arrived at my home. In silence, we got out of the vehicle once we were parked in the garage.

Namjoon grabbed his overnight bag and the bags of take-out and followed me into the home.

As I led us through the hall, I thought of the other guys. Namjoon and I decided to spend the day together visiting different spots in the LA area, the other guys were off doing their own thing, but I didn’t know what. As soon as I picked up Namjoon, I had forgotten to ask about the guys.

“What are the rest of the others doing today?” I asked, setting down the bag of leftovers on the kitchen island. I had eaten three tacos on the drive here, but I was still craving more.

Namjoon opened the containers; he was always down for eating. “Jin and Yoongi stayed at the hotel. The rest went to the Harry Styles concert. Tae’s the most excited. He’s been wanting to see him for a while.”

“That’s tonight?” I asked. The days sure were passing fast.

“Yeah. They might already be there.”

“That’s gonna be fun for them. Two years of being so cooped up, they deserve to have fun.”

Namjoon and I picked up the rest of the dishes we had bought. We had bought almost every item on the menu due to our indecisive.

As we ate, Namjoon went over one of the artists we had observed today at LACMA. I sat back, enjoying hearing him talk. He leaned over to my dish, which was across the table, and took a fork full of food. As he reached, his glasses slid down his nose a little. He pushed them back up. He in glasses was definitely one of my favorite looks on him.

He looked up at me, catching me. “What?”

I simply smiled and leaned into him. “Have I told you today that you’re pretty hot?”

“That’s out of nowhere.” He gave a shy smile but still filled the gap to capture my lips.

“I’m finding your bookworm look pretty damn sexy. You sit there with your hoodie, Timberlands, baseball cap, prescribed glasses, and talk about books and art—it’s a total turn-on.” My upper body was now fully on the counter, being pulled to his gravity.

There was a glint in his eye that looked a little mischievous. “Is it a fantasy of yours—doing it with a bookworm?”

The image made my pussy drip. “I can totally picture riding your face with those glasses on. They’ll be fogged and juiced up by the end of the night.”

Those dragon eyes came swam to the surface, making my skin burn. “You think it’s going to take me all night to get them foggy and juicy? Baby, I’ll have you cuming in less than 10 minutes.”

My cunt squeezed at the promise. It’d been two weeks since the last time we had had sex. But it honestly felt like two years.

Without another word, he walked around the counter, took my hand, and led me into the hall. “Where’s the master bedroom?” he asked, his voice tight and controlled.

“Double doors at the end of the hall,” I answered excitedly.

The moment we entered our destination, his lips were on mine, his tongue slipping in.

He was true to his word; no more than seven minutes later, I fell apart. My knees clenched around Namjoon’s head, my thighs holding his face captive around my center. His glasses were wrecked and soaking wet. His face was flushed and glistering with my juices. A laugh escaped me at the sight of him.

“I told you I was going to break them,” I let out as I pulled off his cracked specs and put them on the nightstand before his eyes could get damaged.

“And I told you it wouldn’t take me all night,” he countered. He leaned in and kissed my inner thigh.

I let out a giggle, pulling myself off him.

He rolled to his side and took me in his arms, his lips searching mine.

We stayed like that for a moment, with simple touches, and kisses until I regained my strength.

And then my hunger for him began to surface. I needed more. I needed him.

I found myself pushing him onto his back while I made my way down his massive physique. My hands tugged at his clothing while I gave attention to every piece of skin I could reach. I don’t think I had ever been so obsessed over a man’s body as I was with this divine creature before me. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t glorious.

My mouth salivated at the sight of his cock waving in the air, dying for attention.

My hands and mouth wasted no time. My lips kissed the long vein on the underside of his shaft, holding eye contact with him the entire time. Once at the head, I wrapped both lips around it and sucked a little. My hand went up and down his thick girth. I let spit fall down his cock, which allowed my hand to work him with a better grip.

“Fuuuuuuuck, baby.” His hand twitched towards me, making a gesture towards my head, but held my cheek instead.

I pulled off his dick with a nice popping sound, liquid coming down the corners of my mouth. I stroked him as I asked him something I had been wanting to know since the first time I gave him head. “Do you want to fuck my mouth?”

His brown eyes went wide and his hand froze on my cheek.

I laughed darkly and I sank my head back down, not stopping until the head hit the back of my throat. I then quickly came back up and stroked him at a higher speed. “We have a safe signal. If it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”

He finally spoke up. “Are you sure?” he asked in the middle of a moan.

I nodded eagerly. “I really want to.” I twisted my wrist.

He let out a groan. “I want you to be sure,” he said gruffly.

“I trust you,” I said as my eyes looked directly at him.

His eyes turned soft for a moment and then the dragon eyes took over.

I maneuvered my way to the side of the bed and climbed off. I took Namjoon’s hand and tugged at it, signaling him to move towards me. He did, finding a seat on the side of the bed as I came to the ground, kneeling before him. There was a fire radiating off of his eyes. He had yet to blink, it seemed.

Taking his cock member in my mouth, I worked a good rhythm. When he still hadn’t moved, I placed my hands on his thick hips and went further down, sending his dick deep into my throat.

He let out a groan and began to move his hips on his own.

It didn’t take long for the feeling of his head hit the back of my throat. My jaw opened wider and I moved a different angle, allowing more of him inside me. My throat muscles clenched around his girth, a gag naturally coming out.

“Shit,” he let out, his hands holding onto my head.

I moved my body so it could allow my throat more room. I took more of him down my throat. His length pushed through my pharynx.

“Oh shit,” he let out, his hips acting on their own accord and pressing further in me.

It was too much, so my throat tightened hard against him. I took a deep breath from my nose, trying to ensure I got enough oxygen. I wanted to come up for full air, but the desire to live out the fantasy of Namjoon face fucking me was too great.

I pulled out a little and went back in, letting him know what pace I was good with.

He took the hint and began to rock and hips in the same rhythm. With every thrust, he goes a little further in me.

Because of his long length, it took a while before his full cock engulfed my throat. His face appeared to be full of ecstasy. His body was sweating bullets.

I wanted to keep the rhythm going but noticed the vein in his throat. He was trying to control his orgasm.

After taking a few breaths, he started to rock himself again. He fully pulled out of me, allowing me to take a full breath of fresh air before he went back in. Keeping eye contact with me, he pushed back into my mouth.

He bottomed out a lot easier and quicker this time. His eyes never left my face, ensuring I was ok with this. Once he was satisfied and confident that I was comfortable, he allowed himself to be in the moment.

As he worked himself in my throat, my pussy craved attention. I brought my fingers to my core, giving myself pleasure.

Namjoon’s hips crashed a little harder against me, his fingers dug into my hair with a little more force. I let out a hum as he impaled me, wanting to heighten his pleasure.

He cursed again. His member almost fully exited my throat but plunged back into me with plenty of vigor. There was a pause, looking for my reaction before he reenacted the same move.

My gagging was getting louder, the saliva coming down my throat in buckets, and my pussy was creating a pool at my feet.

“You look so fucking hot right now,” he lets out, almost breathless. His eyes fall to my legs. “Speed up those fingers, baby. Don’t cum yet.”

I let out a mewl, as I usually do when I hear that commanding tone of his.

“Almost,” he lets out, his powerful thighs hitting my face. I didn’t care, though. The look on his face was well worth it. “I’m cuming,” he warned.

While he thrust a few more times, I pushed the tip of my tongue along the bottom of his length. With one more push, my nose was pressed against his stomach as his warm seed went down my throat.

There was so much coming out of him; more than any of our other times together. I swallowed as much as I could, but plenty managed to spill out. Slowly, I pulled out of him, making sure to give the tip of him one final peck.

He was sweating bullets and he took in deep breaths. He looked as if he had just come out of the gym.

I reached over to the side of the bed where I had a box of tissues. I cleaned the both of us up. Usually, it was Namjoon that took care of us, but he was still trying to catch his breath. Once we were cleaned, we made our way to the center of the bed, cuddling.

Normally, oral sex tended to be foreplay for us. But we were both exhausted. It had been a long day of physical activity—inside and outside of the bedroom

With his arm around me, I found myself falling into a sweet sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, we had been more exhausted than we realized. It was close to sundown when we realized how long we had slept. Knowing we would just continue to sleep if we stayed in bed, we forced ourselves out and decided to take a stroll along the beach. We needed physical activity to wake us up. Plus, the sunset setting would be a nice view for a picture I could take of Namjoon. My property was incredibly close to the beach and had a private entrance that no many used.

As we made our way down the path that led to the water, I kept an eye out for people, making sure we were alone before reaching out to take his hand in mine.

The move made him smile. “Have you talked to your parents?” he asked.

I imagine he was referring to Thanksgiving dinner. I knew he was excited to meet my family. “A little. I haven’t talked to my mother much—except for the other day that I met with her. I told her that I wanted to have Thanksgiving at my place.”

“What did she say?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing, really. I’m not too sure she was happy at the idea of it being at my place. She likes to host. But Seb and Victor already agreed with my place. She also didn’t say anything about that. So, I’m taking silence as compliance. She was pretty non-verbal after that.”

Remembering the conversation just brought irritation. Why my mother could never act like an adult was beyond me. She dodged talking about issues and would later be passive-aggressive. I had been here for only a few weeks, but I already wanted to leave again.

Namjoon reached over to me and gave me a side hug, trying to soothe me.

I leaned into his embrace, allowing myself to relax at his touch. I had already vented to him about the meetings I had with the labels during our car ride. It really had been a long day.

We continued to walk down the path, hearing the ocean waves. We came apart once we were down in the sand. We took notice of a few people present. We kept a small distance between us but weren’t too far from each other.

We walked side by side along the shore, only saying a few words. Our focus was mostly on the scenery in front of us. As the sun set, I took full advantage and took several photos of Namjoon. He insisted on taking one together. I gave in and he handled the selfie.

There was no one present anymore, except for a couple off in the far distance. The sun was fully gone and now the moon was starting to shine. And the coast still looked just as gorgeous.

In the two years I had been gone, I had almost forgotten how beautiful it was. Although I had come to love Seoul, there was something about California that made it irreplaceable. The water, beach, sands, mountains, and coast couldn’t be matched. I had traveled the world and California was still among the most beautiful places.

“I can see why you chose this place,” Namjoon’s voice lingered in the chilly air. His face was turned towards the sea, watching the waves lightly crashing onto the shore.

My eyes stayed on his face, admiring how the moon’s light bounced on all the right angles. Shadows were created but only amplified his features. The wind moved through the water and his hair. It really looked like he belonged to the night.

I took it back, there was another beauty that took top tier.

“What?” he asked, catching me ogling at him.

There was zero embarrassments I felt. Without shame, I would openly gawk at his magnificence. “You’re so handsome,” I said dreamingly. “When moon rise, it’s your time to shine.”

He turned away, trying to hide his shy smile.

I let out a laugh. “So cute.” I poked his side.

His dimples deepened. I saw the glint in his eyes before he could make a move.

I was already planning on dodging him before he reached for me. But before he made a move, I noticed something from the corner of my eye. I turned my head and found a couple several yards away, walking towards us. They were both young Asian women.

 My heard accelerated, frightened at being caught. I moved several feet away from Namjoon just as he made to reach me.

I turned my head away from the pair of eyes that were getting closer to us. I put some more distance between the two young women as they reached. We exchanged smiles, but I did my best to hide my face in the shadows. I hoped Namjoon did the same.

The two women walked between us and continued on their walk opposite us. They didn’t show any indication of knowing either one of us. Their faces and strides kept forward. Once they were far away, I fell into step with Namjoon. I let out a sigh, relieved we hadn’t been caught.

However, Namjoon stepped away from me. “No, maybe we should wait until we’re back at your place before you get too close. Wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” His voice was harsh and bitter.

I turned to him, confused. His eyes were knitted together, his chin set forward, and his jaw clenched. “What?”

“You must have jumped a good ten feet. Even with complete strangers, you don’t like the thought of anyone knowing we’re an item.” I could hear the hurt in his words, but his main emotion was annoyance.

I chose my words carefully and did my best to keep my voice steady and soft. “Namjoon, we do the same thing in Korea. On the rare times when we’re in public, we keep a good amount of distance between us. I didn’t jump away from you because I’m ashamed of you. I stepped away because I was worried they would recognize us.”

His facial features didn’t waiver. “We’re in America, I’m not as recognized here as I am in Korea. And just because they’re Asian doesn’t automatically mean they know me.”

There was an accusation in his statement that hinted at my being ignorant. It stung because he was right, I had made an assumption: they were Asian, so more than likely they knew about BTS. However, the harshness in his words made it seem as if my assumption was more sinister than naïveté.

I tried to mask the hurt. “Even you guys have mentioned whenever you’re in a foreign land that the ones who recognize you immediately are Asian. And I was only being careful. Especially after Jungkook’s close call. I apologize if it came off wrong; that wasn’t my intent.”

It was moments when we walked in silence, letting the incident hang in the air. Our thoughts played the scene over and over again and I was positive he was wondering the same as I: what would have been a better way of handling that situation?

The chill in the air started to physically affect me. I felt goosebumps along my arm and my body began to involuntarily shiver. No more than a few seconds later, I felt a heaviness around my shoulders, Namjoon’s scent hit me powerfully. He had taken off his hoodie for me.

“I’m sorry,” he said deeply. “I shouldn’t have said it that way. It’s a constant reminder that we can’t be ourselves whenever we want. Jungkook and Yuna did have a close call and it was a mess covering it up. Most of what I have, I’m grateful for. But every now and then I’m reminded of the negative attributes of being an idol.”

I could see and hear his own hurt. Even though I was well-known myself, my dating life was kept under the radar due to my own personal decisions. I was a private person who never confirmed or denied any of my relationships. But I never worried about any paparazzi taking pictures of me with my partner. If I was caught holding hands or kissing someone, I didn’t care. It didn’t affect my business. However, the same could not be said about Namjoon or any of the other guys. Our worlds, realities, and cultures differed in that aspect.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly to him, not knowing what else I could say.

He gave a small shrug. “It is what it is.”

I wanted nothing more than to stretch out my fingers to hold his hand. But we were still out in public. Several people were out that could still recognize us. I settled for taking a whiff of his sweater, making sure he saw me doing so.

The dimples on his face told me he understood me. He always understood me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was the first to arrive on the red carpet before the guys, but eventually, they caught up to me.

Namjoon and I hadn’t seen each other beforehand. He had gotten ready at the hotel and I had gotten ready at home. However, we timed so we would arrive at the same time.

As I posed for photos, the guys made their way closer to me. Up at the very front of the line was a damn good-looking Kim Namjoon. He looked dashing in his grey suit and blond hair. As my eyes landed on his handsome facial features, I noticed his eyes roaming over my dress. It was a halter-top, flowy material that had a split along one of my legs. The split reached my upper thigh, almost my pelvic. It hugged and highlighted my best features: legs and chest. And the yellow material complimented my skin tone. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t kept Namjoon in mind while deciding on this outfit a while back ago.

Hearing my name being called out, I snapped me back to the present. I resumed posing and form the corner of my eye, I could see the guys starting to pose as well.

Once the round of photos had ended, I publicly greeted the guys at the first opportunity. We took a few photos together and continued on. Namjoon and I did our best to keep some distance between us.

While most of the time, I spent time doing solo interviews, there were multiple hosts who insisted on interviewing me with the guys. Many forgot we were friends and I had been living in Korea for the last two years. As soon as the media remembered, the guys and I were almost stuck at the hip for a handful of interviews.

As we were talking to one of the hosts, Hoseok had been asked a question. I tried to move back to allow Hoseok to get closer to the mic, but in so doing, I lost my footing. If I had been wearing normal shoes, I would have been able to balance, but I was wearing 5-inch heels. My arms shot up, trying to keep myself upright.

A warm set of hands caught me, keeping me from making a fool of myself in front of millions of people.

I looked up to find Namjoon’s hands on me. His instincts had kicked in. A look of worry on his face. “Are you hurt?” he asked with concern, keeping me steady, and searching me.

Other hands took my arm or held my back, ensuring I was safe.

I let out a nervous laugh. “That would have been embarrassing,” I said to the interviewer.

“Good thing these gentlemen were here to save you,” commented the interviewer. “Nice work, boys.”

“Thanks, guys,” I said. Hoseok and Jimin made sure I looked nice and steady before they let me go. Once they saw I was ok, they too let out a laugh.

“Wow,” said the interviewer. “They got really worried for you.”

Namjoon’s hands were still on me and the look of concern on his face still had not left.

He needed to stop—we were in public. There were dozens of cameras on us. I thought of something quickly to stop any fans and onlookers from reading too much into this. “They’re like my brothers, so they’re pretty protective. Very sweet.” I reached up and pinched Namjoon and Hobi’s cheeks.

Hobi giggled while Namjoon took his hands from me, getting the hint. Quickly, the conversation went elsewhere.

I hoped it worked.

The night continued without any other incident. I ended up winning the award I was up for. As I made my way up the stage with the singer I had created the song for, the guys stood up and cheered the loudest. It was very cute.

The guys went on to win plenty of awards themselves.

Finally, I was up for my least favorite part of the night: presenting.

Even though I was fine at meeting new people and thrived when I performed on stage, I always disliked getting in front of a group of strangers and presenting. While I knew most of the people in the audience, I wasn’t friends with them. They were colleagues and standing in front of all of them was not fun. It was anxiety really, just a dislike. And despite how much I hated it, goddamn Kim Taehyung managed to convince me to take this stupid job.

I was presenting the night’s most important category, which only made it more fun. Among the nominees were the guys which only added to the list of reasons why I didn’t want to do this.

Everyone in the industry knew I was close to them, so I was confident they would be winning. The night had been centered around them. They had won multiple times already. This would be the cherry on top of a record-breaking night for them. However, I was still hesitant to fully believe they would win.

After the last of the nominees had been announced, I got ready to announce the winner. “And the award goes to,” I tore open the paper and read the winner written on it. “BTS!” I cheered.

The fans went wild, of course.

All seven of them took a gracious bow and made their way over to the stage where I stood.

We were keeping social distancing for the awards, but I made sure to fist-bump every one of them at least. I'd hug them later when we were alone.

When I reached Namjoon, I could see him shaking with nerves. I took notice of how the others were wrapped around us, covering us from prying eyes and cameras. I took advantage of the window of opportunity. “Take a breath, baby,” I said under my breath so only he could hear.

His vision refocused as he looked at me. I gave him a smile and turned away.

I took my place off to the side, giving them center stage. Namjoon rubbed his hands together—a habit of his when he got too nervous or anxious—and took a breath as I had suggested, and made his way to the mic.

He stumbled his way into the half-remembered speech he had written and practiced numerous times. Even after all these years and the amount of success he had, he still got genuinely elated and surprised when they were rightly recognized. The beauty of his humbleness squeezed at my heart.

God, he was perfect. And damn me, because I was finding myself falling even deeper for him.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

[bandluvr97]

mbb 🎅

omg you’re probably right about this being the last comeback before Shownu comes back. I hope there’s a little bit of a gap before the rest of the 93ers leave, I would love to see them have a comeback together before the next person leaves. Minhyuk has to go soon, but I’m pointedly not thinking about that, we’re gonna get another comeback with both of their vocals on it, I have to believe that. But did you see that one song is produced by Changkyun and Wooki???? I am LOOKING!

I like participating in celebrations, even if I don’t necessarily believe. Not barge in uninvited, of course, but I’m always delighted to be there, especially if there’s music. And my dad always makes this amazing date and chickpea dish on Christmas night that I would put up with anything for lmao.

Oh cool! So, do you help with, like, housing or job hunting or financial assistance or what? (or just everything) I know social workers who do emergency help and only work with clients for about a month, and some who do longer term work, what kind do you do? One of my besties is frustrated because they don’t let people “be political” at work, which limits how well she feels like she can help people, how have you been handling big political changes? And you can ask about my work, I wouldn’t give like the street address lmao but it’s not terribly interesting day-to-day.

He really is, we love a pretend vegan king. He’s got such amazing vocals, I can’t wait to hear them again. I’m not usually into ballads, but his voice hits different. He absolutely commands the stage in an easy, casual way, and yeah he has the benefit of being physically larger than a lot of idols, but he’s just so present on stage. No shade to the others, they’re fabulous performers as well, they just perform in a different way than Shownu showing up and just being, if that makes sense. Sorry, once I pick a sweet cheese rotten soldier good time boy I have to hype him up extensively.

Seonghwa’s literally just on another level. His stage presence is insane, his opening to “Guerilla” at Song Festival was just walking and yet he ATE. And his vocals? His register shifts are so good. He and San are two of the most interesting 4th gen singers imho. When will they get live mics smh we all heard San in the It’s Live performances of “Turbulence” like I will save this chord there will be no tritones on my watch and yet he’s stuck fighting the sound techs on stage even though he’s a dykon and doing the most for us lesbians. And Hongjoong is the definition of “standing 5’8, voice 6’5.” The whole Short King Anthem is about him, so small but so powerful and he knows it and thank god he uses it for good.

“God Damn” was just so much omg I could go on forever and I frequently do I have so many opinions. I didn’t love his most recent song as much, but I will take anythingggggg. Give me all the evil slut music you’ve got, Changkyun. I want to Cause Problems. I’m so excited for “Deny”, it’s going to be good, I can feel it in my bones. And his solo contract could be entirely back end and we see no difference, but it’s still cool that he’s negotiating better terms for himself.

You don’t really need to know much about the different techniques, I’ll nerd out about them in a heartbeat but don’t want to bore you. It was just really drilling down into it starting from the very basics. And yeah I used to sing, I always liked chamber choirs with tight harmonies best. Now I don’t sing except for myself and to belt along to the radio with my sister, these small-time producers and rappers don’t want to pay for vocalists, and I don’t do it for free if they’re gonna make money off it. And I rarely traveled for performances, but we’d play in new venues all the time, and feeling it out is ROUGH, especially in the orchestra…

We’re going to see my dad meet the Pope as part of this business trip. He doesn’t care if we’re there for that or not, but his partner is spiritually twisting our ear like “You saw a miracle, your father’s no longer in a wheelchair, you are GOING.” My boss is big mad I’m leaving for a week two months in a row, but I’m like dude I will take care of it, you won’t even miss me. This is like the one good thing about being hourly, let me have this!

Sewing is so cool, it must be gratifying to be able to use something you’ve made like that. Hoodies seem extra hard, but I believe in you! Every instrument has its challenges, I’m just overwhelmed by the idea of the two hands working separately, so I’m impressed. And no shame on playing fun music, I play kpop on the violin all the time, it’s literally just fun.

I’m taking notes on all your suggestions, btw. I’m very familiar with Seattle and somewhat familiar with Chicago, but not at all with Canada, I’ve only been to Vancouver once and that’s it. It sounds like you like going to cities more, is that right? I’ve traveled a lot, it’s been a priority in our family, especially since we’re so spread out. Dad loves travel and swore if he got out of the wheelchair he was going to travel even more, and I guess he’s somewhat fond of us and likes to bring us along on his business trips.

I hope your week is amazing and happy Hanukkah!

Hey love ❤️ happy almost Christmas!! Aw thanks 😊 are you excited for the festivities? Sorry for the late reply the week was a bit crazy with work and figuring stuff out but it’s going better now lol also got two days off next week so that’s a nice break from the hustle and the bustle lol hope your week went smoothly love!!

Right??? It’s a very exciting thing to think about lol but yeah they should do one last comeback as the 6 of them before minhyuk goes away for a bit but I’m sure he’ll be back before we know it lol bruh I was listening to that all week!!! Woooo boy 😂😂 it’s so good!!!! Idk how he does it every time but he slays lol wbu? What do you think about the song? Lol I am looking respectfully through my hands 😂 it’s hard to not look sometimes!!

Ooo that dish sounds delicious! Is it a usual holiday staple in your family? What other meals do you usually make around the holidays? I hope you have an amazing holiday season love ❤️

Yeah I help with making referrals to job programs for clients that want to work and give them forms to find homes and places that rent along other resources that they can use so it’s a nice time 👍 yeah that part of the job is tricky to avoid with some clients that want to trigger some political stuff with workers but sometimes it’s best to just move onto the next question 😂😂 it can also depend on what the client is there fire like sometimes it’s financial help like they just need a cheque to get by (which may or may not work because sometimes people like to use and abuse the system but we catch them eventually 😂) and the timeline is the same with my job where I get them set up for a month and then once a review comes up and things are resolved then send them on their way to a permanent assigned worker 👍👍 lol I don’t expect you to give the coordinates for the job location 😂😂 is it a tough business where you work? Like do you see a lot of things go down like fights or deals or drama with the customers? Have you had to put on the big boss shoes and say I’m here bitches? 😂 Not too sure what to ask but I’m so curious to find out info about your work!! Lol

Darn right we do!! We love a hella smexy part time vegan strong boy who is a total softie and just slapping us one minute with his visuals and vocals and then being a sweetie the next minute 😂😂 like how the hell does he do that? And I totally understand the lazlo reference (what we do in the shadows is amazing btw I’m obsessed with it) and I agree he is an amazing leader and just captures the mood of the group and leads them with ease and composure lol oh absolutely everyone in the group complements each other in their own way BUT we are shownu biased 100000% and I take responsibility for that fact lol

Bruh seongwha did more than ate he devoured the stage and everything else he does! Like you can tell he was meant to be on a stage and preform and be a total sweet cheese good time boy 😂😂 him and san are the mood bringers of the group tbh they create the atmosphere and the mood and get everyone lit and hype (mingi is another level though lol) he is definitely doing the most for the alphabet soup babies and that’s a fact he represents the mood and the team and it’s so true (and I’ve seen a lot of us wear his crop tops and edits and it’s a mood and I have to take a breath sometimes 😂😂😂) and Hongjoon is the definition of the short king anthem like you cannot go wrong with his vibe and energy lol btw you know what gets me- the eye contact that this man has (and you know which performance I’m talking about) is absolutely one of the hottest and scariest things I’ve witnessed on Instagram and Tumblr 😂😂

Lol!!!! Evil slut 😂😂😂😂 he is an evil slut! And yeah even if the song or solo stuff doesn’t work out then it’s gonna be good and it was worth the shot but holy shit he’s doing amazing stuff! ❤️❤️❤️

Lol your not gonna bore me love I am fascinated with new things! Bring on the ted talks and the vents! I am here for it ❤️❤️❤️that’s so cool that you sing!! Even if it’s for fun now it’s still an awesome thing to keep for yourself lol if anything it makes you unique ❤️

Really?? Your dads going to meet the pope? That’s so cool!! What kind of business trip is it? Agreed like let me have this time to myself and to spend time with the fam please l!! Lol

Aw thanks love ❤️ it took some time but it’s a fun project to work on (one handed or two lol) and for the sewing there a whole bunch of easy patterns to follow so that part won’t be difficult but it depends on the type of fabric to use lol oooo kpop on the violin sounds difficult but very impressive ❤️❤️

Lol! Aw nice!! I’m glad your excited to travel new places love ❤️ yeah I’ve been to my fair share of cities and what not lol but it would be fun to travel outside of the countries I know lol really? How far out is your family? Where are they all located now? How often do you travel? Now your dad is the definition of dedication 😂😂

Hope you have a great day love ❤️

[goron-king-darunia]

IRL Achievement GET: Last Resort: "So it's come to this?" Use vinegar and an old broom to clean the fruit fly corpses off the shower walls.

[harryseyebrows]

so the fridge in the apartment has had problems since i moved in, and it specifically has had an odor issue since my roommate left a sandwich bag of cheese in the back of it and it actually turned to liquid and leaked out of the bag and then re-solidified onto one of the shelves but not before dripping down the whole back of the fridge and into the bottom. at this point i had pulled out all of the shelves and everything in it and cleaned it with anything possible to get the smell out. it helped a little but it has continued to smell funky since then. it also has a water/temperature regulation problem in which the freezer will get warmer than it should and things will thaw and melt, and then it will go back to its normal temp and we’ll get ice and freezer burn on things and food will go bad. my roommate also has a habit of leaving meat and other various things like eggs and milk and cheese in the fridge until they are rotten and expired. won’t throw them away. this is also wildly unhelpful when the produce drawers regularly fill up with an inch or so of water and need to be regularly taken out and cleaned to avoid the buildup of mold and such. which i am the only person who does this. ever. and so the last time it happened, when i had to throw away half of my groceries, i texted our landlord, even tho i have asked my roommate to talk to him about it multiple times because they have a better relationship than i do (he’s the dad of one of my roommates friends), but he never did. landlord orders a new fridge, it was delivered july 2nd and put in the garage until my landlord could come over to swap them out. i just messaged him asking if he had any word on the fridge bc the current fridge is pissing a puddle of water onto the kitchen floor that’s about 2 feet wide, and GET THIS. he said he talked to my roommate about when he’s going to swap it. AS IF I WASNT THE ONE WHO TOLD HIM THERE WAS AN ISSUE AND TOOK THE FUCKING MEASUREMENTS AND SET A DROP OFF DATE. MY FUCKING ROOMMATE WHO WOULD LIVE IN FILFTH AND WOULD HAVE A FRIDGE FULL OF ROTTEN MEAT AND NOT HAVE A CARE IN THE WORLD. my SAME fucking roommate who has refused to communicate what my half of utilities i owe for two months in a row now, bc all of the bills are through him, so i have had to make educated guesses and venmo him random sums of money twice now, because he’s a fucking CUNTTTTTTT. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[do-i-love-jaal-today]

*thud* Oh, hello...? If you don't mind can I ask my questions? :3 What if Jaal one day accidering on the Alley lonely little child of the Ketts and it's amazing, but this child turned out to be is very nice and cute. The kid has followed Jaal he has no parents. What would Jaal do...? Would he want to help him or not...? (Sorry for my English. 🇮🇹)

I'm not gonna lie... I have to answer this, immediately. I've been thinking a LOT about Angara/Kett relations post-the angara finding out their origins... What if a kett never fully got mind wiped; if they remembered their home and loved ones? There's still so much to explore!

And as heartbreaking as it is to imagine a kett child... Oh. Oh, I'm into this.

[Note: I'm still going with the canon/fanon (?) that kett are incapable of producing children, thus there is great importance on relying on other races to mutate from.]

To say Jaal is happy with the situation... No. How could he be?

He has found a kett child. Who were they, before the kett took them away? Changed them? What remains of the angara they were before...?

The correct thing to do...would be to kill them. But Jaal Ama Darav is not heartless enough to do that. Even thinking of putting his hand on his weapon to bring this child peace makes his insides feel rotten.

He will leave them here. An orphaned child may not survive, a kett child less so...but he cannot bring himself to do anything of use for anyone, in this situation.

...But the child follows him. Shadows his every move. Sometimes, there's a hesitant smile there. Other times, worry. But it is like they know, now. Jaal will not hurt them. Perhaps that has made him leagues better than anyone else, especially for this child.

Who knows what they've gone through before now...?

Jaal is not a cold hearted man; he soon relents a little. Ordering extra food to see if the child will eat it. (Can a kett still safely eat angaran food...?) It's a relief when the answer is yes.

The child eventually starts bonding more openly to Jaal, and he can't find it in him to deny them.

Honestly, it's probably less than a week before Jaal is holding them, teaching them all sorts of things. Language, especially; they know broken pieces of kett, but they need to learn angaran. (Kett is not yet a language that can be translated by the humans and other Milky Way races; angaran, however, is.)

Perhaps the harder bit is getting everyone else on board...

Every single angara thinks he's lost it. What's wrong with him?! Destroy that child before it grows up to be a murderer! (Jaal is openly affronted by such words; he's likely fought over words like that, too.)

The people of the Milky Way...don't get it, either. But at least they're less openly hostile. Jaal decidedly likes them better, in this situation; even people who are openly unsure or dislike kett can be won over by the child's oddly adorable eyes and, well... Childish nature. Humans, especially, are quick to pack-bond with younglings; this kett-child is no different.

(It's also why Ryder doesn't last an hour; they absolutely love the child. The kid held their hand and Ryder probably cried about it. Jaal couldn't help but laugh when the child panicked a bit, not yet used to how emotional humans can get.)

If we talk about those on the Tempest... Again, no one is thrilled with the little kett at first, but do grow to appreciate them faster than anyone else. There's a "found family" energy on the ship, anyways; who's to stop them from adopting this child into that found family, too? (Nobody, that's who. Cause once the Pathfinder adopts the kid, nobody can really reverse that choice!)

Jaal honestly steps up to be the perfect dad. There's definitely some...confusion on raising a kett child (and no one to turn to when it comes to asking for parenting advice), but between him and the Pathfinder's crew, they make it work.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For mermay I would love to see some Danbrey for 24 (lighthouse)!

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one

“You excited honeysuckle?” Her father sets her sleeping bag out on the floor.

“Yes” Dani manges her bravest smile. She’s never slept anywhere but their little house on the cliffs, and the lighthouse, with its echoing stairs and lack of true darkness, is the opposite of that.

“It’ll be fun. Like a camp out. I can even make s’mores over the stove.”

“Okay.” She sets her backpack on the floor, then follows him to the kitchen. At nine, she can already tell when her parents are doing their best, can spot the way her father carries himself when he’s tired but trying not to show it.

He makes them dinner, canned chili with goldfish crackers, and gives her a little tour. When it’s time for bed, he tucks her in, handing her the Totoro plush she sleeps with.

“When is mom coming back?”

Her father sighs, “Two weeks, assuming your grandma gets better at the speed they’re expecting. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll recover even faster than that.”

Dani nods. Her teacher expressed surprise that Dani was staying here and not taking the trip with her mom. The given reason was the gated community didn’t allow children to stay that long. But Dani knows the truth; her grandparents don’t like her dad. And because Dani is the result of her mom loving and staying with her dad, they don’t like her, either.

He kisses her forehead, makes her promise for the bajillionth time that she won’t go in the water, and tells her goodnight.

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

She’s looking for seashells when it happens. Living by the sea means she knows not to turn her back on it. Too bad the wave hits her from the side, carried up and over the nearby rock and knocking her into the surf. She scrambles up, spluttering, touches her neck, and feels like she’s going to throw up. Her bracelet, the one mom gave her for luck, is gone.

“Oh no, oh no, where are you, oh no”

“Um, are you looking for this?” A girl watches her from the surf, bracelet dangling from her hand.

“Ohmygosh” She snatches the jewelry away, holding it to her chest, “thank you. It’s from my mom and, uh, and I try to be careful but it’s hard sometimes.”

“I get that.” The girl holds up a necklace, “this is from my mom. It’s like one she wears; she says I can have the real one when I’m older. Can I come on the beach?”

Dani nods, then gasps as the girl joins her. She’s seen mermaids in books or that pirate movie her mom watches sometimes. But they’re always grown ups with long hair, pale skin, and green tails. This mermaid is the same age as Dani, her dark skin dotted with freckles and her black held in place with pieces of coral. Her tail is shimmering red and black, the prettiest thing Dani’s ever seen.

“You’re a mermaid.” Dani says, because she can’t think of what else to say.

“Yeah. And you’re a human. Why are you here? It’s usually just that guy.”

“That’s my dad. I’m staying with him.”

“Do you wanna hang out?”

“Yes! Wait, how’s that going to work? I’m not allowed to swim around the lighthouse.”

“I’m allowed to be on the beach, so we’re good.”

“Okay” Dani grins, excited, before her dad’s voice carries down the beach, calling her to come in, “shoot, I have to go.”

“Okay, byyyyyeee!” The mermaid waves as Dani hurries up the sand, and is gone when she turns around for a final look.

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

“Got any tens?”

“Go fish.”

Aubrey draws another card, “I still think it’s weird that you don’t really fish during this game.”

“You’re just grumpy you’re losing.” Dani teases. Aubrey sticks her tongue out. Dani responds in kind.

“When your dad finally lets you swim, we’re gonna play it my way and I’ll kick your tail. Legs?”

“Butt.”

Aubrey snickers, wiggles closer on the warm sand. They’ve found a patch of beach that isn’t immediately visible from land or sea, meaning Aubrey isn’t in danger of being seen and Dani isn’t breaking her promise to her dad to stay out of the water.

“If you come to the beach near my house, I can swim there. But I’m still not allowed to swim alone. I could drown.”

The mermaid purses her lips, “I wouldn’t let you drown.

“I don’t think my mom would believe me if I said I had a mermaid helping me.”

“Man, why can’t humans just have tails? Or, like, fins.”

“I think then we’d just be mermaids. Don’t worry; I’ll get to swim on my own when I’m older and we can play in the water then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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

“FINALLY!” Aubrey raises her arms triumphantly as Dani wades into the surf. It took four years and passing a survival swimming course for her parents to be okay with her swimming alone. The smile on Aubrey’s face makes the weeks pretending to swim in a riptide worth it.

“Do you wanna race? Ooh, or I could show you the ray nest, or we could go look for otters-”

“Let’s start with a race. I’ve been waiting years to kick your tail.”

The mermaid’s smile takes on a competitive edge, “last one to that rock is a rotten urchin!”

With that, she splashes Dani with her tail and zooms through the water. Dani dives forward after her, but even with her newfound swimming skills she makes it to the rock a good ten seconds after her friend.

“Best two out of three?” She says the moment she comes up for air.

“You’re on.”

Best two out of three becomes best out of ten, and on number ten Dani plays dirty, throwing her arms around Aubrey’s waist when she manages to catch her. Her friend shrieks with laughter, spinning and chasing Dani towards shore. The human slips and Aubrey tackles her, sand clinging to both of them as they roll onto their sides, cackling into the salt air.

They stay on the sand until it gets dark, counting stars and holding hands until Dani has to go home.

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

Dani’s trying not to panic; it’s not the first time Aubrey’s missed meeting her. Sometimes the mermaid gets called away for lessons or has last minute things to take care of, and they haven’t figured out a way to get messages between underwater and above it (they tried a supposedly waterproof cellphone but it only lasted an hour). But it’s been three days without a single sign of her friend.

As she’s contemplating getting the boat her dad uses for fishing on his days off and going further out to look for her, Aubrey surfaces. Even before they reach each other, it’s obvious Aubrey’s been crying.

Dani kneels in the soaked sand, opening her arms, and Aubrey burrows into them, salt water of two kinds dripping onto Dani’s jacket.

“Aubrey?”

Her friend hides her face against her neck, “Mom’s gone. There, there was an accident and she, she didn’t-” it cuts off in a sob.

Dani holds her tighter, strokes her hair, murmurs, “I’m so sorry” as Aubrey shakes in her arms. The wind whips around them, stinging her cheeks, chilling her fingers. She doesn’t care. Aubrey needs her.

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

“Ta-dah!” Aubrey produces a massive clam with a flourish, narrowly avoiding sending water onto the slices of cake Dani smuggled down to the beach.

“Aw, thanks Aubrey, you didn’t have to--holy crap!” She gawps as Aubrey opens the clam, revealing a pearl necklace.

“Like it? It took me, like, a year to get them all. Had to fight a few otters for some of the oysters.”

“Uh-”

“Kidding!” Aubrey flops her head into Dani’s lap, “I’d never bug the otters; Dr. Harris Bonkers would never forgive me for bothering his friends.”

Dani clasps the necklace in place, rests a hand on Aubrey’s tail. She traces figure eights on it, smiling when her friend sighs and nuzzles her stomach.

“You’re the best, Aubrey.”

“Thanks. I, um, I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

Her heart turns to an iceberg, “You’re leaving?”

“What? No!” Aubrey sits up, bringing them face to face, “you’re eighteen now. That’s when humans leave home.”

Dani giggles, “Not automatically. I haven’t made up my mind if I want to leave Kepler or not. I might just stay in town; I like it here, and Mama offered me a job manning the community gardens.”

Aubrey’s tail flutters, “Um, I have another point in the stay category.”

“Yeah? Oh” Dani sighs as Aubrey cups her cheek and guides her into a kiss. When Dani deepens it, Aubrey trills, shifting so she’s in Dani’s lap and draping her arms over her shoulders.

“Well?” Aubrey whispers, brushing their noses together.

“Definitely a convincing point, cutie pie.”

Aubrey trills again, knocking her backwards and kissing her senseless in the sand.

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

Much of Kepler is surprised when, upon his retirement, the lighthouse keeper announces his daughter will be taking his place. After all, why would a charming young woman want such a job?

The charming young woman isn't particularly interested in their speculation. If she took the job in order to be closer to her wife well, that's her business, now isn't it?

[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

Fathers and Sons Part 1: A ROTTMNT Fantasy Fanfiction

Summary: When a old friend shows up, Leonard is forced to face a difficult past all while keeping Donnie safe. But will it be enough to escape unharmed?

Takes Place a bit after “The Thief and the Orphan”

Word Count:2478

Pairing: Ok if you ship ANYTHING in this I’m going to seriously have to reccomend you seek therapy. Or do a soul searching montage. Which ever your insurance will cover

Rating: PG for Mild Violence

“Ok hear me out-“

Len ,without looking away from the cabbage he was inspecting, says, “Danny I swear if I turn around and your’e holding a bag of onions bigger then Donnie I’m going to use your suits for my new quilt.”

Danny let out a small scoff (followed by the undeniable sound of someone setting down a giant bag of surplus). A small shoulder bumped his hip, drawing his attention down to the twelve year old soft shell at his side, giving him a sour look with puffed up cheeks, “Uh oh, I know that look. What did I do?” Len asks

“I am not a official unit of measurement Dad.”Donnie says in a way that supposed to indicate he was offended. But judging by the way he was pressing his mouth into a fine line he was trying hard not to smile. Len doesn’t share his attempt to hide a smile as he rubs Donnie’s scalp as though to ruffle his imaginary hair, “He tries to catch any sign that Donnie was upset ,he had a bad habit fo not always sharing his feelings, but the child seemed alright. Len, picks up a frost apple and turns it over to check for rotten spots. Danny snatches the apple out of his hand, Len looks to him and sees Danny giving him a questioning look before glancing at the child holding his fathers hand, leaning against him with a half bored expression on his face but also probably to give his braced leg a break, “Think we can afford a quick lesson?” Danny asks

A wave of uneasiness came over Len as he quickly glanced around the market. Thankfully the guards were too busy off getting bribes or drunk and the vendor is too busy having a staring contest with a spider on their stand. After a moment to think it over he nods to Danny though he unconsciously grips Don’s hand tighter in his. Danny’s crouches down to Don’s level, “What do you think kid? Ready for a lightning round?”

Don’s eyes widen for a moment before looking to Len. Despite the overprotective knot in his stomach he gives a nod. Don looks back to Danny with a look of determination. Danny gives a grin, pulling out the apple out from behind him and tosses it up into the air before snatching it and hiding it behind his back, barely keeping it in sight for more then a few seconds. “Alright, notice anything wrong with the apple?”

Don’s brow furrows in a way Len knew he was thinking about the brief time he had been allowed to see the apple. To a passerby it may have looked like a simply game a uncle was playing with his nephew but it was a good observation test to see how many defections Donnie could notice with as brief as window as possible. Which would prove useful if Donnie was ever staking out a score in the future. “It wasn’t fully blue yet, “ he says after a moment, “Which means it has plenty of time to ripe. And it didn’t have any bruising.”

“Almost right.” Danny drew the apple out again, angling the fruit so Donnie could see the top of it “The stem is twisted and withered a little which means the farmer who grew it took care to make sure it was stored properly.”

Don immediately frowns, “shoot.” He says tapping his foot against the ground angrily. Physically reprimanding himself for his mistake

“Hey now,” Danny rubs his scalp “you’re getting better. you’re catching on a lot faster then you Dad did.” Len made sure to cast the rat a sour look (mostly for the added insult in his direction)

Len can still feel Don’s disappointment as he leans against his Dad’s leg. Len didn’t always approve of doing tests like these in public. But he didn’t want Donnie to feel dishearten. HE hands the bag of groceries to Danny (who takes it with a soft grumble) and kneels down, a arm wrapped Dons shoulders, “Alright kiddo.” He says drawing Dons sad gaze to him, “Let’s say you wanted to ‘befriend someone here. Do you see someone who ‘d make a good ‘friend?’”

Eager at a chance to redeem himself, Donnie’s eyes dart around at a speed that Len knows means he’s focusing too hard, “Take a deep breath,”he reminds squeezing his shoulders gently, “there’s no time limit. ‘Friends’ will come around again.” Without looking at him, Don nods before closing his eyes and doing as he was told. This time when he looks around its at a slower more manageable pace, ‘I’d befriend the man in a brown cloak.”

Len looks at where Don’s looking at sees who he’s talking about, whose standing net in the shadow of another giant bull yokai, “Are you sure?” he asks, “Why not the two over there?” he says nodding towards the two squirrel yokai in bright clothes, “They look like they’d be good friends too.”

Donnie nods, “He’s a merchant pretending to be poorer then he is ,you can tell by his dragon scale gloves and glasses. And the guy with him is a body guard but the body guard looks tired like the merchant has been harassing him all night so even if I did.” Don pauses, “‘befriend him, the body guard probably wouldn’t try as hard to befriend me back.” Don’s eyes look to him for a moment as though to check his work, but Len just nods towards the squirrels, telling him to continue ,”They’re not actually rich, they look lost. The clothes are probably family heirlooms that they couldn’t bring themselves to sell, but they’re hands are really dirty which means they’re probably laborers. What ever they do have on them is probably a prized family possession. But it wouldn’t be right to befriend from them.” This time when Donnie looks at him Len gives him a smile and a nod, “good job baby boy, you got everything right.” He says gently pressing the corner of his mouth to Don’s forehead as he hugged him tightly around the shoulders. Even though Lens’ never been too sure about conducting these sort of tests in public, it’s worth it to see Don’s face blossom into a smile. Len rises back to a standing position. Mickey is already giving him a smile of approval as his flippers flutter happily, “Great job cookie!” he tells Donnie, squishing his cheek on Donnie’s scalp. Len takes the back of produce from Danny and returns to looking at the produce.

He had thought it was too soon to try and teach Don the skills he would need as a thief, and far too risky to do out in public, but luckily Danny always knew how to code the self titled “Thief Games” to make a observer think that , rather then teaching a child who to pick pocket and how to deduce a item worth stealing at a moments notice, that they were just teaching him how to make friends and playing games.

IT was inevitable, but that didn’t’ mean it didn’t make him anxious.

He was inspecting a group of half grown carrots when Donnie pulls on his arm to get his attention and immediately saw what had gotten Don so excited, a used book stand that had Don beaming up at him, “can I?” He asked , “Please? I have money.”

Uh oh. Len could feel his ‘overprotective dad’ instincts overwhelm his ‘dear moon Len the booth is literally a few feet away’ reasoning. He took a breath before he smiles, rubbing Dons’ scalp,” Ok take Mickey with you and do as he says. And here,” he reaches into his coin bag (thank the Mystic Moon for that extra good score they had hit before the snow had set in), he mentally counts up how much he’ll need for groceries before pulling out a few spare coins, “consider it a reward for doing so well,” Normally he didn’t like Donnie leaving his side in public, but it was worth it to see Don smile at him and take the coins, “Thanks Dad!” He says before hurrying over to the book vendor with Mickey trailing after him.

“Looks like you two are getting along again.” Danny says stepping by him. Picking through the produce,“I know things were hard there for a moment.”

“Yeah, we were training yesterday and he said,” Len pauses trying not to think about how the conversation had went, “some things that I know he felt bad about saying.” Len turns his attention to a giant bag of potato’s, when was the last time he had made fries? “Hes a great kid he just gets frustrated.”

“Hes at that age” Danny turns and leans at the stall, Len can tell he’s watching Donnie at the book stand. For someone who always claimed Len too overprotective, Danny was certainly a contender, “I can’t believe it was seven years ago you said you were going out to buy hair gel and you came back with a freaking kid.”

Len laughed, “Yeah,” it was weird how seven years could both feel like a lifetime and a blink of a eye. He could still remember when Donnie was too scared to leave his little corner of the house. He was so entrapped in those early memories that he almost jumped when Danny suddenly dumped his groceries into his arms causing Len to stumble for a moment, trying to keep from falling over, “Danny-“

“Mickeys started to look bored, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t start licking books-Mickey no! They’re covered in germs!” Danny said already hurrying over to where Donnie was desperately trying to pull a book away from Mickeys open mouth . It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t only left alone, but with bags of produce that even he was having a hard time balancing. He had thought is as overkill to bring the entire family along to of grocery shopping but the winter had been especially long. He didn’t blame any of them for running after him when he had went to get his cloak. He had actually been relieved to have help carrying the supplies back home but he should of known that was too good think their attention spans would hold out. With half humored grumbling he turns to the vendor,” Hey, can I leave this stuff behind with you until we leave?” Grateful when he nodded (before returning to his staring contest with the spider), Len somehow managed to shuffle behind the stand and drop off the bags food and the payment. He counted out his change again, they had ended up under budget (for once). Maybe he could go visit the sacred east booth, if they had rice flour he could make-“

“Hey babe”

Len drops the apple he had been looking at and grabbed at his knife when a another hand caught his and a arm wrapped around his chest, pinning his back against a chest. He wastes no time twisting to free himself before he feels the hand gripping his redirecting his knife holding hand so the sharp point was digging through the back of his shirt and over his kidneys under his coat so no one could see it. From a outside perspective someone might of thought that someone had jumped over to surprise a old friend. The person rests their cheek on his shoulder looking to him with a smirk “I can’t believe you actually let me do that Babe, how many times did you lecture Lief and Mickey for letting their guard down? oh how the mighty have fallen.”

Len grinds his teeth together, berating himself for a a few moments before forcing himself to calm down. The vendor hadn’t noticed what had happened, “What do you want Vito? I told you if i ever saw you again i’d skin you alive-“

“Ah you did didn’t you?” the silver yokai with a white mohawk and green markings around his eyes said as though just realizing he forgot his watch, or something trivial, “ But i just missed you so much i had to visit, babe. I must say, i’m digging the ponytail look you have going.” Vito used his hand to twirl his hair around for a moment ,”it really suits you.”

He’s too busy thinking of all the ways he wants to break Vitos army that he has to remind himself to stay calm. Despite how “attached” he claimed to be to Len, the Thief knew he had no problem shoving that knife between his ribs and leaving g him to bleed out “ I told you i hate it when you call me that Toe-“

“Ah but i think it’s cute, doesn’t it make you feel it make you feel special?” Vito presses his forehead uncomfortably close to Lens temple. Even after all the time Vito still smells like expensive cologne and candy, a sickly combination that makes his stomach twist,”How’s your boy doing? It’s been so long since i saw him-“

Len jerks around again “if you touch him-“

“I won’t i won’t. I happen to know he’s over book shopping with Danny and Mickey,” Vito let’s out a sigh “as much as i’d love to catch up with the boys, there’s someone who’s been dying to see you,” The hand on Lens chest rises up and plays with Lens bangs that slowly grow claws” and if you come quietly, you might live long enough to see your baby boy again,”

Len imagines catching his ankle around the back of Vitos ankle and getting them upper hand. But he looks to where the Mud Dogs are looking at books across the market. He watches Donnie look in his direction and his smile fade to terror. Of course he would understand what was going on, and in a way it makes Len hate Vito even more to make Donnie look so concerned for him. Donnie has already grabbed Danny’s hand but Danny is already looking like he’s about to charge across the market and kill Vito where he stands while Mickey grabs Donnies shoulders to keep him from running to him. But Len shakes his head at them as settle as he can. The pain swelling when Don’s eyes fill with tears. His natural instinct wants nothing more then to go to his child and comfort him. But HE knows he can’t do that if he makes the wrong move and ends up with a knife in his kidneys.

“Let’s just get this over with.” he growls at Vito as quietly as he can

“Aw that’s why i love you babe. You’re just so smart,” Vito twists the arm he has a grip on like someone would direct a horse and forces Len to walk ahead of them. The two of them disappearing into the crowd

Len didn’t care what happened to him

he just needs his son to be safe

[greenandhazy]

ppl in the Trobed discord asked if I had more future headcanons for Rickie and Leon (Troy and Abed’s kids from my Nadir-Barnes Canon verse) when they grow up and I was THRILLED because idk if I’m going to write more in that verse (writing too far into the future makes me wary for some reason? like how can I just pretend I have ANY concept of what the 2030s will be like) but YES I HAVE THOUGHTS:

Rickie grows up to be a confident, outgoing person, the life of the party and everyone’s  de facto big brother, although he does struggle a bit more with those early traumas and is more self-conscious about identity issues, so that confidence is the result of intermittent therapy and mindfulness

Such as, for example, morning prayer with Abed, which leads to him expressing more of an interest in Islam--sometime in late elementary/early middle school he transfers to a mainstream school that’s close enough for him to walk to a nearby after school program, and eventually formally converts. (Leon doesn’t feel the need for that and Abed doesn’t feel the need to push.) so yeah, another trilingual in the family heyyyyy.

Neither of the kids are fluent in Polish, although they hear it occasionally from Abed around the home.

He likes to dance as a hobby, although not so much modern--he likes jazz and hip-hop, things that are more high-energy. He and Troy have a LOT of spontaneous dance parties around the house. But starting in middle school, spoken word poetry and rap become his real big things and he eventually goes on to have a music career--think early Childish Gambino, Chance the Rapper vibes. (Leon achieves minor TikTok stardom for his ASL covers at one point.) He likes to run them by Troy first, and Troy and Abed are the ultimate hype men.

Abed is always really careful to seek out opportunities to connect with both kids, and they’re both written into Voyage of the Starship Legacy in some way... but it’s Leon’s. He thinks of it like a personal bedtime story that happens to have been made into a feature film, and it’s his comfort rewatch. In general he’s more of a fan of Abed’s stuff because he likes the meta aspects, and while Rickie enjoys them too, that’s not really his style as much, you know?

(I mentioned in one of the fics, Rickie is Abed’s ego-shrinker. If people find out Rickie and Leon are Abed’s kids they’ll be like “omg that’s so cool!” and Leon will be like “haha yeah” awkwardly and Rickie will say “cool? lol right, it’s the nerdiest thing about me.”)

Subsequently, Leon is always really excited when Troy suggests they go sailing. Rickie is enthusiastic in theory but usually gets bored once they’re out on the open sea, so this becomes Troy and Leon’s Thing, especially as he gets older and is less easily entertained by funny voices and faces. He just finds the open ocean very soothing and, yknow, parallels between sailing and space exploration or whatever. He really loves hearing Troy’s stories about his trip.

He’s more of a shy person, especially around people his own age--definitely not an entertainer the way the rest of the family is, and has a bit of a dryer sense of humor. One of his hobbies growing up is drawing, and there’s a running joke in the extended (found) family that someday Abed is going to produce an animated film illustrated by Leon modeled on Troy’s dance troupe with a soundtrack by Rickie. Cut to Leon’s sophomore year of college, when he announces that....... his major is astrophysics and he has a summer internship at NASA

(you can’t prove I was rewatching The Martian when I came up with this) (I just love the idea of Abed’s kids being just as phenomenally successful but one in in a Very different way, also I think the study group’s reaction would be very funny for some reason) (come on guys, he’s been very into space for a long time, this shouldn’t be a surprise, right?

Sometime around middle school, Leon starts not only not putting his hearing aids in, but leaving them at home when he goes out. Troy and Abed always prefer he have them as a backup, and a very common dad joke in their household is “You’d lose your ears if they weren’t attached to your head--oh, wait.” Eventually he admits that yeah, he’s “forgetting” them on purpose, partly because he’s getting tired of Questions and Looks, partly as an act of defiance because he dislikes the expectation that he wants to hear all the time, partly because it makes him feel Some Kind of Way that he doesn’t actually need them--that between his family, his school, his community, and even the cashier at the bodega across the street who taught himself a few signs, he really can get plenty of social interaction and communication just using ASL and he likes that feeling. (Troy is especially touched by that, given that he does not have Abed’s gift for languages and learning ASL took more effort for him.)

They both really enjoy traveling. The family makes semi-regular trips to Arizona and wherever Annie ends up with the FBI, but spend the most time in Colorado--especially in the summers. Gobi is still grumpy but spoils the kids rotten, and they like being the cool older cousins of Jeff and Britta’s kid. the Bennett boys are a little older but Rick and Leon are always trying to convince them to get into Shenanigans, and when they do, they reach a whole new level of shenanigans. Shirley is Tired.

They come back from Colorado with more complimentary Greendale merch than you could ever imagine. the Dean knows they’re not going to go there but..... he can try. Rickie gets his first taste of alcohol from Britta. Leon goes to Annie for girl advice when he gets his first crush because he figures his dads are way too gay to be helpful. Jeff takes them out to play paintball all the time (in like... actual, legit paintball--fields? idek what they’re called) and regales them with tales of Greendale paintball, which they had been 100% sure their dads were exaggerating until Jeff stepped in. They think Chang is putting on a hilarious act for like their entire childhoods and are solely responsible for portions of Chang’s “I Never Die” song becoming a meme among LA schoolchildren.

oh and I don’t have, like, faceclaims for them or anything but I picture Rickie wearing lots of bright colors and being ultimately like an inch or two shorter than his little brother, which offends him deeply, and Leon tends to wear his hair a little longer, like..... Power Rangers-era Eka Darville.

ANYWAY those are the things that have been milling around in my head the last couple of weeks. I have very strong feelings about this children I made up <3 <3 <3

[delightfulstarlightparadise]

Stardew Valley imagine Reader/ ?????

Possibly Sebastian... but who knows.

-So, I have been playing Stardew Valley for hundreds of hours in just few weeks and finally had de courage to write my own imagine. (Nice, I get off the game to write about it).

-I will avoid pronouns as much as I can, but when necessary I will use they/them. I hope everyone feels included.

-English is not my main language, but I am doing my best.

- I will, sometimes, bring some fanarts I made too.

Let’s go <3

The slow pace of the bus makes you feel dizzy. You look outside and see the most lively and green landscape you had ever seen, and along with it you feel the memories of old times coming to your mind.

Those days in the farm seem so far away now, playing with animals along your cousins, running around the crops, swimming in the rivers and lakes, fishing... and in the late evening sitting by a fire with your grandpa to hear stories about the valley.

Stardew. Stardew Valley, a place cherished in your memories.

You never imagined you would be going back to that valley to live in the farm from your childhood, taking with you just a small luggage. You are tired, sad and broke. Your wrists still hurt, a gift from hours typing in a computer of Joja corporation.

You don’t know how everything went so wrong. As a kid you always wanted to be a veterinarian or maybe a biologist, but you ended up in that corporative job, making thousands of reports that seemed the same one and attending meetings to talk about nothing. If you told yourself, that bright kid full of hope and wonder, that you would grow up to become such a bitter adult, you wouldn’t have believed it then.

At least you had the courage to leave.

You hold tight in your hands the letter from your grandfather, attached to it as a last light of hope that moving to Paradise farm can help you start new.  

The bus stops and the driver asks you if you need help with your baggage, but you decline. You didn’t bring much.

You stand beside the bus sign and feel the soft breeze from the valley, listening to the birds chirp. Those memories seem more alive inside you.

“Hey! You arrived!”

A friendly call takes you out of your thoughts as a ginger woman comes towards you with the nicest of smiles.

“I was worried that the bus would be delayed but you are just in time!” she says, taking your baggage from off your hands before you can say anything. “I am Robin, the town’s capenter, you must be the new farmer! Lewis asked me to pick you up!”

“Hi...” you stutter, shaking her hand.” I am y/n.”

“You caused quite a commotion here at Pelican. It is not everyday we receive a new villager, a new farmer, then!” she says, taking your luggage to a small red pick up truck parked beside the bus stop.

“Actually... I am not a farmer. I am just going to live in the farm.” you say a little unease about how friendly she is. You are used to the apathic city people.

“Well, I guess living at Paradise makes you a farmer now.” She says a giggles.  

As you take a dirt road, she continues to speak to you cheerfully.

“I just came by truck because I thought you would be bringing much more stuff. Your farm is actually very close.”

“I... I don’t own much.” you reply. “WHAT THE …!?”

When she parks by the gates your wonderful memories and hopes connected to Paradise farm seem to shatter. The landscape is taken by weeds and all the structures you remember seem to have aged twice the time you had been away. Trees had outgrown the charming paths or rock in which you and your cousins used to race each other, the little ponds where you used to fish were surrounded by twigs and bushes of weeds. The sight of the land was a mix of leaves, twigs and boulders.

“Not much of a Paradise anymore, hun? But I guess with a little effort you can bring it back to it’s bright.” Robin says as she notices the disappointment in your face.

“I guess...” you say, dispirited.

She takes you to the old cottage and the view is not much better. The wood seems a little rotten and cracked, you are afraid of what you might meet inside.

“Y/n! I haven’t seen you since you were this little!” an elder man comes out of the cabin and waves at you.

You think you remember him. Probably one of your grandfather’s friends. He had many, unlike you.

“Oh, I guess you were too little to remember me. I am Lewis, Pelican Town’s Mayor. You know, your granpa and I used to be friends since we were very young and this farm was full of coops, animals, fruit trees...”

Robins ahams to him to call his attention to your discomfort about the current situation of the farm.  

“Oh... I mean... Sure you will do a good work of taking care of your grandfather’s property. Anyway, I am here to welcome you and say that whatever you need, you can call me and that If you have anything to sell to the city or export, you jut need to put it into that box, I will gladly take it and return to you with the money.” he says, in a very mayorish manner.

“Thanks.” you reply.

You are not very good with people. Maybe that is why you ended up behind a computer job.

“It is almost lunchtime!” Robin exclaims, she is so spirited. “So why don’t you put your bag in the cottage and come have lunch with my family? After that one of my children can show you around town. My son Sebby is almost your age, I am pretty sure you two will get along.”

“I... I don’t want to bother.” you reply scratching the back of your neck, uncomfortable.

“It was not an invite, it was a demand!” Robin says, and you can see the seriousness printed on her eyes.

You leave your bag beside the old bed in the cottage and follow her to the truck. After a small ride, you find yourself in front of a big house in the mountains.

“I think I have been here before.” You say, as you look at the lake slowly flowing near you.

“Probably when I was still building the house. I remember you and your grandfather’s other kids swimming around the lake. I think Sebby used to play with you sometimes. I guess if you remember each other.” she says.

“I surely don’t remember that.” you say, pointing at a giant boulder pile beside the lake’s source.

“Oh, that. That is the result of a landslide provoked by Joja Mart.”

“JOJA MART?!” you screech.

The simple mention of the company’s name makes you sick to your stomach.

“Yeah, they say they are working to get it removed, but they wouldn’t have to if they had not caused it in first place. I bet they were exploding the mines in search of gold, like the leeches they are.”

“Probably.” you agree to Robin’s inflated discourse.

When you get in the house, you hear the sound of a small explosion, followed but smoke and a funny smell.

“Oh Yoba! Dad, are you ok?! I guess I overcharged the batteries again!” you hear a girl’s voice and then a fire extinguisher being activated.

“There can’t be a fucking minute of peace in this house.” a guy comes from downstairs complaining. He is wearing a hoddie and has headphones hanging on his neck.

“Sebastian, language!” Robin says.

He turns to you and for a moment seems completely astonished to see you there, but quickly turns back to the apathic face he had on before.

“Hi honey! Maru and I were just doing a little experiment, but it got a bit out of hand... Oh, hello!” a man comes out of the room where the smoke is coming from.

“Y/n, this is my son Sebastian and that over there is my husband Demetrius.” Robin introduces you as you wave shyly.

A girl comes out of that same room. She is cleaning her glasses worried, but as she glances at you, her face shines with a bright smile such as Robin’s. She runs towards you and starts shaking your hand with both of hers, excitedly.

“Hello! I am Maru, and you must be the new farmer!”

“I... han... not a farmer actually. I will just live in the farm.” you reply uneasy.

“Oh, but I guess living in the farm will make you a farmer, then.” Demetrius says and giggles.

“I am going back to the basement.” Sebastian mumbles taking the direction of the stairs.

But Robin stops him by grabbing the back of his hoddie.

“Sebastian, it is lunchtime, so why don’t you go to the kitchen and put on the table for our guest, hmn?” she says in a way only a mother could.

He grunts and heads to the kitchen.

Maru leads you there by the shoulders while asking you:

“So you are from Zuzu city, right? How is life there?”

You can see Sebastian turning to you with the corner of his eyes when he hears it, he seems a little interested.

“Busy.” you answer.

She keeps staring at you with a smile as if she is waiting for the development of your answer, and does it until you feel uncomfortable enough to either attend her expectations or flee.

“Well... it is crowded. People are unfriendly, time seems to go by very fast...” you say, cracking your fingers anxiously. “There are more malls, I guess.”

“Interesting!” she replies with that same smile.

“So, you will be now taking care of Paradise farm, hm?” Demetrius says while sitting down next to his daughter. “I guess you will be having a lot of work taking care of all those weeds.”

“I actually don’t intend to work as a farmer.” you reply.

“Oh really? What kind of work do you do, y/n?” he asks gently.

“I am a reviewer. I mean, I was. I used to take care of paperwork, write reports on data and... you know, spend the day in front of a computer. I think I will find me a job to do this, but from here.” you answer.

“Sebby here is a computer geek, too! You two will get along well.” Robin says while serving you more food than you think you can eat.

“I am a programmer, mom.” he mumbles, facepalming.

“You should not be afraid of trying your hand at farming though.” Demetrius says. “Darling! This food is DE-LI-CI-OUS! As I was saying, this land has very productive soil and the town is an exporter, I am sure you can make some profit by selling whatever you produce. Also there is much foraging around you can pick and sell, there aren’t much people who take their time on doing that. The Salmonberry season will be here soon.”

“Thanks honey!” Robin replies with a giggle. “I am pretty sure y/n has it settled for the computer job.”

“Actually, I am pretty broke.” you think while taking a bite of Robin’s food. It is really good.

REALLY GOOD. You can’t remember the last time you had a homemade meal and the thought of it brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, dear! Is it too spicy?” Robin asks, serving you a cup of juice.

You shake your head negatively trying to wipe the tears, ashamed. Sebastian and Maru stare at you, concerned, they even exchange a glance of worry and then, look back at you.

“No,no I... I have... a gland problem, I tear up sometimes... when... I am... eating?” you stutter, sobbing a little.

“I think I have heard about that. “ Demetrius says. “Maybe you should pay a visit to doctor Harvey in the town. He is a very good doctor.”

You nod as you continuously take bites of that wonderful food. It is so good to finally have a meal that isn’t pizza or a cold burger.

…

While having lunch you discover that Demetrius is a scientist. You take great pleasure in listening to him talking about how diverse is the Stardew biome. He also talks about minerals, the land’s properties and many other scientific things while Maru stares at him like she is the proudest daughter in the world. You feel like you would look at him the same if he was your father.  

Sebastian rolls his eyes more times than you can count and when he is finally done with the whole “family and guest lunch” thing, he stands up and says:

“I am going out for a smoke.”

“Actually Sebby, could you please take y/n to get to know the town?” Robin says while she collects the dishes.

“Mom, I think you better ask Maru, she is better suited for these kind of things.” He whispers at her, but you overhear.

“Oh well, so maybe you wanna stay and take her turn in washing the dishes?”

You swear you can hear him cursing while he passes beside you and makes a sign with his hand for you to follow him. You feel unease, but Robin points at him and shakes her hands indicating for you to go.

Sebastian takes you outside, to the garage and hands you a helmet.

“What?” you say.

“What?” he replies while putting on a helmet himself. “We’re taking the bike”

“Bike?” you ask.

Sebastian uncovers an old-fashioned bike and gets ready to sit on it, but you stop him by giving him back the helmet.

“No, no, no.” you say, gulping your breath. “I can’t, sorry.”

“What? Aren’t you from the city?” he says.

“I can’t ride a bike.” you say, shaking your head frenetically.

“You just sit down and hold on, I am the one doing the riding.”

“Look, you don’t really have to do this. I will just go home and you can tell Robin I had to... do something else.”

“You don’t know my mom.” he says while taking off the helmet. “Ok, wait here, I will grab the truck keys.”

Sebastian doesn’t take long to come back with the keys and the both of you get inside the truck. He lowers his window and immediately puts a cigarette in his lips.  

“Do you mind?” he asks you.

“Actually, can I have one?”  you reply feeling awkward.

“You smoke?” he says while rising towards you the pack with a cigarette extended.  

“Only when stressed.” you say while letting him light it up for you.

“Yeah. Me too.” he says starting the engines.

Next part here:

(I liked the sketch so much better, so here it is)

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (1)

She was twenty when she died.

She’d just graduated with a double first in Literature and Preservation from Exeter. She’d been accepted into a prestigious master’s school in London.

She’d moved into a basement flat with her best friend and a couple of his friends. She’d been glad to escape her childhood house, where her mum and dad traded vicious words over who was getting how much in the divorce.

She’d promised her brother she’d get him out too, once she had a stable place that the courts would approve of. She had been due to interview for a job at a big bookstore chain next week.

And then someone had broken in while her flatmates were out. She shouldn’t have grabbed the knife. That just made the armed man freak out.

The last thing she remembered was a bang, and the blubbered words “I didn’t mean to!”

She wakes up as a baby.

She waves her arms around and cries as an unfamiliar lady with brown hair and brown eyes bends down over her crib, hushing her with more urgency than is really warranted.

Rain hammers down outside and thunder rumbles directly overhead.

Then a man with blue hair and grey eyes arrives. He stinks of copper, and that makes her wail harder.

The man and woman confer, words too fast for her to understand.

Then the man gently presses a cloth which smells chemical and awful to her face, hushing and looking at her with sad eyes while the woman strokes her head.

She struggles, but eventually swirling red circles dance before her eyes and she succumbs to sleep.

She grows, and learns that she is not anywhere remotely like her home anymore.

She looks in mirrors and sees grey eyes like the man’s, brown hair like the woman’s, hair too straight, eyes too angular, skin too pale.

Her new name is Ketsugi Mayu. The woman’s name is Ketsugi Chie, the man’s is Ketsugi Jirou.

They live in a little house, on the outskirts of a village that’s nothing like the village she previously grew up in. It’s too big, too bustling, with large compounds with symbols decorating the exteriors and brightly painted buildings, flat roofs alternating with asian-style pagodas.

Faces carved into a mountainside like a bastardization of Mount Rushmore. Huge trees everywhere, though she couldn’t tell you the type. She never was any good at biology.

Her “parents” escaped to this village from the rainy place before. Both of them work, but the woman takes her with her, or comes back first.

She gets the feeling their neighbors don’t like them very much.

Despite the electricity for lights and plumbing and cooking, there are not electronic communication devices, not like she knew them. Photography, but no video or animation.

Calculators and computers are unheard of, abacus and notebooks in their place.

The food is good though. Fresh and flavorsome, with meals that are usually served in what she mentally called “plate-2-bowls” style, a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and a meat or vegetable dish in the center.

The woman she is supposed to call her “mother” scolded her for ages the first time she dumped the rice out of the bowl onto the plate and tried to eat it that way.

The man she is supposed to call her “father” just laughed and said how lucky they were to have a daughter who would eat everything given to her.

And she did. Even if she doesn’t like the flavors, she eats it all and leaves no scraps.

One Piece taught her that those who waste food are scum, after all. She’ll never learn how the series ended now, so she does her best to live up to the ideals of her favorite characters in its place.

She probably should’ve seen it coming in the end.

The story she was read at bedtime was called “The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi”. There were constantly people dressed in dark clothes jumping across the roofs.

There were stalls in the market that sold throwing knives and stars and japanese swords.

But she didn’t realize exactly what world she’d been reincarnated into until she sees a little boy around her age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and three familiar lines like whisker marks across each cheek.

He’s racing away from a severe woman dripping with orange paint, cackling even as she screams, “GET BACK HERE NARUTO, YOU LITTLE DEMON!!”

She’s four, so she promptly bursts into tears and remains in a strop for the rest of the week.

Naruto doesn’t have food.

It’s dumb and doesn’t involve her and she shouldn’t care because she never even read this series because it was stupid and sexist and dumb and pirates will always be better than ninjas no matter what stupid morons on the internet who have no interpersonal relationships say—

But Naruto doesn’t have food.

She saw the food vendors at the market slap away his money, yell at him for trying to steal from them, chase him away from their stalls with rotten produce.

And he goes away empty handed.

Every. Damn. Time.

Sanji wouldn’t let him go empty handed.

Fuck.

She buys three lunch boxes and an “easy cook recipes” book from a lady who coos at her.

She buys extra rice and ingredients so that she doesn’t use up her “family’s” food.

She decides on a sweeter, more protein-focused meal for breakfast, and presses rashers of bacon and scrambled eggs between slices of crusty bread, filling the compartments with orange slices and strawberries and a plain yogurt.

For lunch she tries and fails to recreate Ketsugi Chie’s perfectly triangular rice balls filled with salmon, but consoles herself that the cucumber and seaweed salad turned out okay, To make up for it, she sticks a packet of gummies in the dessert bit.

She shadowed him the evening before, and so wakes up obscenely early, tugging on the clothes she wore yesterday.

She deposits the food outside his door, checks the sticky notes with “BREAKFAST” and “LUNCH” on them are secure.

Then she raps on the door with all the power her little fists can muster and bolts.

She’s about halfway down the street when she hears the overexcited whoops and fights to keep a smile off her face.

That night, when she comes bearing a thermos filled with miso soup and a box with rice, baked salmon with mushrooms, and dango, the other two are stacked neatly outside the door, licked clean.

She deposits dinner, grabs the other boxes, knocks again, and bolts so she can make curfew.

Here’s her routine.

She goes to bed and falls asleep instantly after preparing that boy’s breakfast and lunch.

She wakes up early and runs through the village while the streets are still asleep and deposits his food, collecting his dinner box and the feedback sheet, knocks and goes, avoiding any traps he’s set up to try and catch her on his endless quest for her identity.

They’re harmless, more intended to snare rather than hurt, and she’s gotten good at dodging.

She gets home in time for her “parents” to wake up, washes up the box while they shower, and goes upstairs to get ready for the day.

Ketsugi Jirou makes her run through katas before breakfast. Sometimes he lets her practice with the wooden sword he carries, and laughs when she falls over, kissing her bruises.

Ketsugi Chie serves breakfast and corrects her table manners and posture. After Jirou has kissed them both and left, she is given lessons in calligraphy and etiquette.

Sometimes Ketsugi Chie takes her along to her job at a tearoom, and she has to observe as her “mother” elegantly serves the patrons and makes polite conversation.

Sometimes she’s left to clean the house and study the books on the history of her family. There are many, but more are missing, references they have no source for.

At lunchtime, she reviews the feedback sheet, making notes of what worked and what didn’t.

She’s supposed to play outside after lunch, so she runs laps. Once Ketsugi Chie’s shift is over, the woman either collects her from home or goes with her straight to the market for food.

She begins making Naruto’s portion the moment groceries are put away, serves it hot and runs it over. She picks up the empty lunch boxes and paper, deposits the dinner, knocks, and runs away.

She eats dinner with her “mother” and “father”. Jirou quizzes her on what she’s learned.

After dinner she washes up the dishes and makes tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast while her parents tell her a bedtime story.

Then she cleans up after herself, and goes to bed, falling asleep instantly.

It’d be nice if this could last.

So of course, the next time she deposits breakfast and lunch, an adult dressed in black with a white mask tackles her to the ground.

She barely avoids spilling the food, clutching it to her chest with one arm as the other is twisted viciously behind her back.

She screams, tries to kick out, but her legs are too little, she can’t hurt the bastard—

The lunchboxes creak ominously under her.

“Who sent you?!” The adult hisses—there’s no way that’s not a man, not with that baritone— “Drop the henge and tell me, or I’ll—”

Something twangs.

A mass of rope drops onto them, followed by chalk dust.

“HAH!” Comes a much higher-pitched yell. “I told you I’d get ‘em, believe it, I told—wait, what the heck?! Jiji, mask-guy’s hurtin’ my friend!”

The click of a cane and the sound of an old man’s voice. “Hound-san.”

The pressure on her arm lessens and the adult gets up, though he doesn’t let go of her. She wheezes, feeling her eyes watering now she can breathe properly.

She hiccups once. Twice. Bursts into floods of noisy tears.

A blurry figure of orange comes into her view. “Hey, hey don’t cry, don’t cry! It’s okay, mask-guy won’t hurt you anymore, Jiji won’t let him, believe it! Yo-you’re the one bringin’ me the food, right? It tastes really good, believe it! M-my name’s Naruto, wh-what’s y-yours? Plea-please don’t—”

The blur of orange begins crying as well.

“Oh dear.” The old man sighs.

The old man takes them to the tower in the center of the village, drawing curious stares at the sight of two wailing children, one bleached white by chalk dust, following him.

The tower is scary. It reminds her of government buildings, with lots of people in green or grey jackets or white masks moving from one place to the next like fire ants, ready to turn and bite intruders to their nest at a moment’s notice.

She doesn’t work out who the queen ant is until the old man sits behind the big desk in the room at the top of the tower, and another mask brings her and Naruto water at his gesture.

“Now, let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Says the old man, smiling genteelly.

A shiver goes down her spine.

The questions should be easy. What’s her name, how old is she, where does she live, who are her parents, where do they work, does she have any siblings, what are her hobbies.

But her tongue is stuck to the top of her mouth and when she tries to speak, she just makes a pathetic little croaking sound, no matter how much water she swallows.

The man who hurt her gets more and more tense with every failed answer.

The old man just looks sadder, like she’s failing a test, like he’s going to let the mask hurt her again—

Naruto asks, “Can you make ramen?”

She swallows. “I—I’ve never had it. I don’t know the ingredients. Is, is it like miso?”

“It’s WAY better than miso, believe it!” Naruto yells. “It’s got noodles and green onions and fish cakes and pork and tofu and chicken and fish and seaweed, and sometimes the broth can taste like miso but better and sometimes it can be spicy and Ichiraku’s is the best, and I’ll take you there so you can have some, believe it!”

She frowns. “How can it have pork and chicken and fish? That doesn’t work. Those meats go with different flavors—like chicken katsu and pork katsu are served with different toppings.”

He blows a raspberry. “They’re not all in the same bowl at one time! There’s different types.”

Her mind ticks over the possibilities. “...So a dashi broth for miso could work? What type of flour are the noodles?”

He shrugs. “I’unno. There’s different types?”

“Of course there are!” And she tells him about wheat vs buckwheat vs rye vs rice flour, and how flour mixed with water can serve as food in a pinch but isn’t sustainable for him because he’s malnourished—

“I’m not mal-no-ished, believe it!” Naruto protests.

She scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. Look, try to touch your thumb and pointer finger around your wrist.”

He looks at her warily, but does as she says easily. There’s enough space between his hand and his wrist that she could wriggle her little finger in there, if she tried.

“See?” She says, holding up her own wrist where her thumb can’t quite reach her finger. “You’re too skinny, because you don’t eat enough. You need to bulk up, and eat to get your vitamins, or you’ll grow up weak and feeble.”

The boy pouts. “S’not my fault the stupid jerkwads in the market won’t sell to me.” He grumbles.

“No, it isn’t.” She replies. “But they sell to me. And those who let people go hungry are scum.”

There’s a wounded noise. She looks up at the forgotten adults, tensing again.

The masked man has vanished. The old man just looks tired, but also...happy?

The old man walks her and Naruto home, and she glimpses many more white masks in the trees. The idea that any one could hurt her at any time has her trembling, fists clenched.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Naruto asks, clutching his lunchboxes close.

“Mayu.” She replies after a moment’s hesitation. “Ketsugi Mayu. I’m five and ten months.”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto and I’m six, believe it!” He cheers. “Imma be the Hokage one day and take over from Jiji, believe it!”

She frowns up at the old man. “What’s a hokage?”

He laughs. “It’s the ninja entrusted with the safety of the village and all those within. The Hokage specifically is the leader of this Village Hidden in the Leaves, Konoha.”

She looks around.

“This place is way too big to be a village, no matter how you look at it.”

Her parents burst out the door just as they arrive at her house, her father clutching his bokken, her mother still in nightclothes.

They blanch when they see her, the woman reaching out with an abortive hand.

The Hokage bows to them. “Ketsugi-san.” He says. “May I congratulate you on raising such a fine daughter?”

Ketsugi Jirou bows hesitantly back, eyes not leaving her. He has to press a hand to Chie’s shoulder to get her to do the same. “You honor us, Hokage-sama.”

The Hokage smiles and gently pushes her. She totters forward and is swiftly captured in a crushing hug, both adults muttering “Mayu, Mayu.” Like she’ll disappear if they let go.

Her eyes begin watering again, because she’s escaped. She’s safe. For now.

“Otou-sama.” She whimpers. “Okaa-sama.”

She mentally apologizes to her parents in her past life, and the brother she left behind. In their memory, her new family will remain “Otou” and “Okaa”, never “Mummy” and “Daddy”.

“OI, MAYU-CHAN!!”

She half-turns in the hug, sees Naruto and the Hokage some distance away.

“COME GET RAMEN WITH ME TOMORROW!! ICHIRAKU'S IS THE BEST, BELIEVE IT!!” He yells, with far too much volume.

She sniffles. There’s something wrong with Naruto. He lives alone and borderline starves, but the ruler of this village visits him enough that he calls the man “jiji”. People in the street call him “demon” and “monster” openly, but the masked man attacked her for approaching him.

The smart thing to do would be turn him down politely. Thank you, but no thank you. She’s his food provider, she’s not under any obligation to be his friend.

So, of course, she yells back, “EAT YOUR FOOD AND I'LL BE THERE!”

He pumps his fist and whoops, cheering loudly as the Hokage smiles and guides him away.

Mayu Ketsugi and her parents tense as the accusing, silent stares pierce them.

The neighbors never liked them much anyway.

[things2mustdo]

Nature has given humanity a roughly one-to-one ratio of adult men to women, but the most attractive women are being taken out of circulation to either join alpha male harems or participate in degenerate lifestyle choices. This leaves the average man practically no choice in settling down with a mentally stable and cute woman in her prime.

In Islam, a man is able to marry four wives, which is what my wealthy Iranian grandfather did on his way to siring 24 or so children that included my dad (the exact number is a mystery). He took away three women that an Iranian man of lesser means could have married, creating a societal imbalance, but that’s nothing compared to what we have in the modern Western world, where a single famous man can command the sexual attentions of dozens—if not thousands—of women in their sexual prime, spoiling these women for normal men who don’t have the ability to tingle their vaginas with the same intensity.

How many actors, musicians, and sports athletes are trying to plow through as much prime pussy as possible? How many Hollywood directors and music producers are leveraging their positions for sexual gain? How many club owners, restaurateurs, Arab sheikhs, and politicians are doing the same? Each one is taking way more beautiful women out of circulation than men like my grandfather, all while elevating their standards to such an extent that no average man can ever gain their love, let alone two hours—or even two minutes–of their uninterrupted attention.

We also have to account for female lifestyle choices that are designed to delay or prevent pair bonding and marriage. The biggest is career. Most girls, while embarking on a career, balance out the boredom of working a meaningless job by hopping on the cock carousel and banging at least a few men every year. By the time a girl hits 25 years old, any man who meets her will have to deal with a walk-in closet of emotional issues and hang-ups from being pumped and dumped as much as a 1930’s brothel whore.

Then there is the Instagram and Facebook lifestyle that creates crippling dopamine addiction, which causes a girl to only be satisfied if dozens of men are actively thirsting for her every day. I estimate that if a girl has over 500 followers on Instagram, she is so used to attention from throngs of men that the love of one man cannot possibly satisfy her.

We must also throw in the growing “travel blogger” lifestyle where, instead of using only her body to get attention, a girl uses pictures and video from exotic locations to enhance her beauty. Other girls, with nothing substantial to offer the world, decide to showcase pictures of pets or their tasty overpriced meals, but even that puts them on a dopamine loop that ruins their future interactions with men.

By far, the most damaging lifestyle choice women make is becoming a sugar baby, a politically correct term for “prostitute.” For some easy cash, she whores out her body to the highest bidder (some women combine Instagram and prostitution in a seamless package). How can such an Instagram prostitute ever settle down with a man who has a normal salary? There are also the hundreds of women who enter porn every year, some from seemingly stable families. Sadly, men are so desperate for love that many would wife up a former prostitute or porn star, but it’s highly unlikely those women will make for stable families.

The Western world is a sinkhole for women. The prettiest of the bunch fall into the hole and get spit out years later an entitled #MeToo hag who can never be happy, making the Islamic four-wife rule seem downright egalitarian. The sad truth is that if you meet an attractive girl today, she was pumped and dumped by numerous sexy men, prefers to nurture her career than children, is addicted to attention via the internet, and has participated in some kind of scheme to exchange social status or cash for her pussy. She’s more than suitable for a bit of fun, but would it be wise to seek a relationship with her?

Even with the obesity and short-hair epidemic, I still see a bountiful supply of cute girls I would happily reproduce with. I would love them, let them caress my beard, and lay my seed deep within their vaginal guts, but the problem is that those guts are not for me—they are for the Chads who would never marry her, the beta orbiters who await her newest selfie as if it were a source of food, or the rich and lonely men who would sponsor her for thousands of dollars a month. They’re taking her out of circulation at the time I want her most, and by the time they are done with her, I no longer want her. I guess I’ll try to weasel in a bang or two when she is not yet fully degraded, and enjoy the fleeting pleasure that comes from it as much as I can.

https://www.rooshv.com/how-to-stop-the-fall-of-women

An acronym that you’ll often come across is AWALT, which stands for “all women are like that.” It is used in response to someone trying to point out that a particular woman is different than all the rest and more deserving to be placed on a pedestal of some sort when it comes to relationships. While that acronym is useful for newbies who are just beginning to de-program themselves from egalitarian ideas spewed by the establishment, it breeds a hopelessness among men that they can never extract more than casual sex from women.

Most men have seen firsthand how women change due to the presence of corrupting factors in the environment. If you give a woman an open bar, she will over-consume and make decisions that harm herself. If you give a woman a smartphone with social networking apps, she will become a narcissist in a short amount of time, falling in love with her own image. If you give a woman a liberal education, she will come to firm belief than men were born to bring pain and slavery unto women.

Only a woman with an exceptional upbringing can resist alcohol, social networking, and university brainwashing, and for the women who can initially resist it, she will surely succumb after enough time and pressure. It is in this way that AWALT is true: all women who face corrupt influences in their lives will become corrupt and behave in a similar way that degrades their virtue, making them unsuitable for long-term partnerships. But if AWALT is true in describing the universal fall of women in the presence of toxic influences, it must also be true that they possess universal purity in environments which lack bad influences that attack her virtue.

A reliable corrupter of a woman’s virtue is having plentiful male choice. If over the course of five years a woman in New York City has her choice of 100 alpha male cocks, she will be unable to resist the thrill ride that these men offer. She will begin to structure her life around a neverending alpha male sex party where she receives and expects fun, excitement, drama, and entertainment in exchange for willingly accepting her place on various booty call rotations. During this time, she loses most ability to be a suitable wife and mother, or even to be a good person, because the alpha males who use her for late night sex do not place demands upon her that make her more feminine, loving, or nurturing. She becomes damaged goods, suitable for nothing more than casual humping.

But now let’s imagine that instead of being born in New York City, this girl was born in a poor Ukrainian village that only has a population of 1,000 people. For whatever reason, she was unable to get out of this village and a complete blackout of internet prevents her from meeting thirsty foreign men. It’s quite easy to see how she marries a village man while still young because it’s a better prospect than suffering alone to earn her bread in a place where employment opportunities are few. The environment a girl is placed in will mostly determine her worth as a life partner.

Most women who are put in New York City will, within a few years, default to becoming a promiscuous slut. Most women who are put in a tiny village with no way out, with little choice in men, and with positive religious influences, will default to being a good wife and mother, possessing normal and acceptable human flaws like all men have. Women put in specific environments will act in specific ways, which is why looking for a unicorn in a Western city is fruitless, since she’s within reach of the devil’s workshop. He will get to her and make sure she experiences all manner of vice.

Western nations facilitate the “fall” of women from a state of purity and innocence to one of abject corruption. I don’t believe women are inherently born to be degenerate, just like how I don’t believe men are, but once we put a woman in an environment that enables, facilitates, and even encourages her corruption, she will certainly become corrupt. But what if you can catch a woman before she inserts herself into this environment and then shield her from it? What if you grab her at the time she is about to jump into the abyss, and through your diligence, power, and knowledge, protect her from Western influences that will destroy her? Would it be safe to give your time, energy, love, and commitment to this woman? It’s important to note that I’m not stating you save a corrupt girl, since by then it’s too late, but to prevent a woman from becoming corrupt in the first place.

It is completely your responsibility to create the environment of a good home, a good city, and a good country to prevent the fall of your women. It’s your responsibility to create the right environment where all women remain good instead of succumbing to an evil where within a short amount of time she becomes a useless, tattooed, overweight, and masculine slut. It should be clear to you by now that women absolutely can not save themselves, and have no inherent resistance to the pollution that tempts them in this world. It’s solely up to us men to shield their natural virtue so that they become the wives and mothers that allow you to fulfill your biological destiny while furthering the health of your society.

It’s not a matter of telling a girl that sleeping around is bad or that Facebook is bad, because by then the ship has sailed and her soul is likely long gone. It’s a matter of creating the environment where women are restrained from sleeping around, blocked from becoming addicted to taking selfies, and prevented from becoming brainwashed by social justice ideas. We must stop them from entering the environments that destroy them. We must guard the door of evil that they are hurtling themselves towards while resisting evil ourselves.

Before you raise your hands in despair and claim that this is an impossible task, that Western society is finished, I say this: what is a society but a collection of the people within it? What is a society but an assembly of living humans that include ourselves? We are a part of this whole, and it’s up to us to ensure that the truism of “all women are like that” serves in our benefit and our society’s benefit instead of being at the forefront of our most terrifying nightmares.[culturewar]

Read Next: Women Must Have Their Behavior And Decisions Controlled By Men

After a long period in society of women having unlimited personal freedom to pursue life as they wish, they have shown to consistently fail in making the right decisions that prevent their own harm and the harm of others. Systems must now be put in place where a woman’s behavior is monitored and her decisions subject to approval of a male relative or guardian who understands what’s in her best interests better than she does herself.

Women have had personal freedoms for less than a century. For the bulk of human history, their behavior was significantly controlled or subject to approval through mechanisms of tribe, family, church, law, or stiff cultural precepts. It was correctly assumed that a woman was unable to make moral, ethical, and wise decisions concerning her life and those around her. She was not allowed to study any trivial topic she wanted, sleep with any man who caught her fancy, or uproot herself and travel the world because she wanted to “find herself.”

You can see this level of control today in many Muslim countries, where expectations are placed on women from a young age to submit to men, reproduce (if biologically able), follow God’s word, and serve the good of society by employing her feminine nature instead of competing directly against men on the labor market due to penis envy or feelings of personal inferiority.

The reason that women had their behavior limited was for the simple reason that they are significantly less rational than men, in a way that impaired their ability to make good decisions concerning the future. This was eloquently described by German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer in his important essay On Women. He described them as overgrown children, a comparison that any man who has dated more than a dozen of them can quickly agree to after having consistently witnessed their impulsive and illogical behavior firsthand.

Women are directly fitted for acting as the nurses and teachers of our early childhood by the fact that they are themselves childish, frivolous and short-sighted; in a word, they are big children all their life long—a kind of intermediate stage between the child and the full-grown man, who is man in the strict sense of the word. See how a girl will fondle a child for days together, dance with it and sing to it; and then think what a man, with the best will in the world, could do if he were put in her place.

[…]

…women remain children their whole life long; never seeing anything but what is quite close to them, cleaving to the present moment, taking appearance for reality, and preferring trifles to matters of the first importance.

[…]

That woman is by nature meant to obey may be seen by the fact that every woman who is placed in the unnatural position of complete independence, immediately attaches herself to some man, by whom she allows herself to be guided and ruled. It is because she needs a lord and master.

When you give a female unlimited choice on which man to have sex with, what type of man does she choose? An exciting man who treats her poorly and does not care for her well-being.

When you give a female choice on what to study in university, what does she choose? An easy liberal arts major that costs over $50,000 and dooms her to a life of debt and sporadic employment.

When a female lacks any urgent demands upon her survival, what behavior does she pursue? Obsessively displaying her half-naked body on the internet, flirting with men solely for attention, becoming addicted to corporate-produced entertainment, and over-indulging in food until her body shape is barely human.

When you give a female choice on when to have kids, what does she do? After her fertility is well past its peak, and in a rushed panic that resembles the ten seconds before the ringing of the first school bell, she aims for limited reproductive success at an age that increases the likelihood she’ll pass on genetic defects to her child.

When you give a female choice of which political leader to vote into office, who do they vote for? The one who is more handsome and promises unsustainable freebies that accelerate the decline of her country.

When you give a female unwavering societal trust with the full backing of the state, what does she do? Falsely accuse a man of rape and violence out of revenge or just to have an excuse for the boyfriend who caught her cheating.

When you give a female choice on who to marry, what is the result? A 50% divorce rate, with the far majority of them (80%) initiated by women themselves.

While a woman is in no doubt possession of crafty intelligence that allows her to survive just as well as a man, mostly through the use of her sexuality and wiles, she is a slave to the present moment and therefore unable to make decisions that benefit her future and those of the society she’s a part of. Once you give a woman personal freedom, like we have in the Western world, she enslaves herself to one of numerous vices and undertakes a rampage of destruction to her body and those who want to be a meaningful part of her life.

A man does not need to look further than the women he knows, including those in his family, to see that the more freedom a woman was given, the worse off she is, while the woman who was under the heavy hand of the church or male relative comes out far better on the other side, in spite of her rumblings that she wants to be as free as her liberated friends, who eagerly and regularly post soft porn photos of themselves on social networking and dating sites while selecting random anonymous men for fornication every other weekend.

Men, on average, make better decisions than women. If you take this to be true, which should be no harder to accept than the claim that lemons are sour, why is a woman allowed to make decisions at all without first getting approval from a man who is more rational and levelheaded than she is? It not only hurts the woman making decisions concerning her life, but it also hurts any man who will associate with her in the future. You only need to ask the many suffering husbands today on how they are dealing with a wife who entered the marriage with a student loan debt in the high five figures from studying sociology and how her wildly promiscuous sexual history impairs her ability to remain a dedicated mother, with one foot already out the door after he makes a reasonable demand that is essential for a stable home and strong family.

I propose two different options for protecting women from their obviously deficient decision making. The first is to have a designated male guardian give approval on all decisions that affect her well-being. Such a guardian should be her father by default, but in the case a father is absent, another male relative can be appointed or she can be assigned one by charity organizations who groom men for this purpose, in a sort of Boy’s Club for women.

She must seek approval by her guardian concerning diet, education, boyfriends, travel, friends, entertainment, exercise regime, marriage, and appearance, including choice of clothing. A woman must get a green light from her guardian before having sex with any man, before wearing a certain outfit, before coloring her hair green, and before going to a Spanish island for the summer with her female friends.

If she disobeys her guardian, an escalating series of punishments would be served to her, culminating in full-time supervision by him. Once the woman is married, her husband will gradually take over guardian duties, and strictly monitor his wife’s behavior and use all reasonable means to keep it in control so that family needs are met first and foremost, as you already see today in most Islamic societies. Any possible monetary proceeds she would get from divorce would be limited so that she has more incentive to keep her husband happy and pleased than to throw him under the bus for the most trivial of reasons that stem from her persistent and innate need to make bad decisions.

A second option for monitoring women is a combination of rigid cultural rules and sex-specific laws. Women would not be able to attend university unless the societal need is urgent where an able-minded man could not be found to fill the specific position. Women would not be able to visit establishments that serve alcohol without a man present to supervise her consumption. Parental control software on electronic devices would be modified for women to control and monitor the information they consume. Credit card and banking accounts must have a male co-signer who can monitor her spending. Curfews for female drivers must be enacted so that women are home by a reasonable hour. Abortion for women of all ages must be signed off by her guardian, in addition to prescriptions for birth control.

While my proposals are undoubtedly extreme on the surface and hard to imagine implementing, the alternative of a rapidly progressing cultural decline that we are currently experiencing will end up entailing an even more extreme outcome. Women are scratching their most hedonistic and animalistic urges to mindlessly pursue entertainment, money, socialist education, and promiscuous behavior that only satisfies their present need to debase themselves and feel fleeting pleasure, at a heavy cost for society.

Allowing women unlimited personal freedom has so affected birth rates in the West that the elite insists on now allowing importation of millions of third world immigrants from democratically-challenged nations that threaten the survival of the West. In other words, giving women unbridled choice to pursue their momentary whims instead of investing in traditional family ideals and reproduction is a contributing factor to what may end up being the complete collapse of those nations that have allowed women to do as they please.

I make these sincere recommendations not out of anger, but under the firm belief that the lives of my female relatives would certainly be better tomorrow if they were required to get my approval before making any decisions. They would not like it, surely, but due to the fact that I’m male and they’re not, my analytical decision-making faculty is superior to theirs to absolutely no fault of their own, meaning that their most sincere attempts to make good decisions will have a failure rate larger than if I was able to make those decisions for them, especially with intentions that are fully backed with compassion and love for them to have more satisfying lives than they do now.

As long as we continue to treat women as equals to men, a biological absurdity that will one day be the butt of many jokes for comedians of the future, women will continue to make horrible decisions that hurt themselves, their families, and their reproductive potential. Unless we take action soon to reconsider the freedoms that women now have, the very survival of Western civilization is at stake.[culturewar]

Read Next: People Should Not Be Allowed Unlimited Personal Freedom

[drdiabolical]

I Never Sharpened My Teeth - Chapter Two

I Can See the Mountains, It's Almost Like I Can Touch Them

Chapter Specific Content Warnings: Non-con medical/scientific examination

// Fandom: Naruto // Rating: Explicit // Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence // SFW // No Smut // No Ship // dldr //

Summary:

Kakashi learns more about the purposes of his captivity and makes a break for it.

Read on Ao3

Excerpt:

Kekkei genkai were simultaneously feared and coveted in the Land of Water. Kakashi had known this in a disconnected peripheral sense which came into focus briefly during his encounter with Zabuza and then fell out of focus again. It was a point of culture that was converse to Konoha where kekkei genkai were infused within the very foundations of the village. Clans were proud, sure, but that reverence didn’t tend to extend too far outside of clan borders.

Strapped down to a gurney while a pair of researchers poked and prodded and took samples of him for analysis, it couldn’t have been clearer that their respective villages held kekkei genkai in very different regards.

Kakashi didn’t have a kekkei genkai presently. He had a natural affinity for lightning and a backlog of copied jutsu catalogued by an eye he no longer possessed. What he did have were biological quirks, but in no way did they give him access to any special chakra capabilities or nature affinities other than his ability to tell what a person had for breakfast by their breath from a metre away, hear the whisperings of gossip while seemingly engrossed in a book, and leave his hypothetical one night stands looking as though they were mauled by dogs rather than ridden with love bites.

Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe his current situation. Examining every inch of him, producing scan after scan with unrecognisable medical jutsu, taking his blood, skin, hair, and his body in general, in small doses, these researchers were almost rabid in their pursuit of a fictionalised kekkei genkai. Behind their medical masks, he could imagine them salivating at the prospect of confirming their biases. Or perhaps they were tearing up in desperation behind their goggles, their superiors demanding that they discover the Hatake secrets and despairing at the thought of having to report that the six-year-old they apprehended just had weird teeth and that was about all there was to it.

Weird teeth which almost crushed the fingers of the first hand to investigate his mouth, only the chemicals slogging through his system prevented him from snapping onto his target in time. They’d sent for something to ‘deal with that’ since, Kakashi hadn’t caught the finer details, but they hadn’t returned yet-

The door opened and a shinobi swiftly deposited something onto the medical trolley on Kakashi’s right and left within the span of a few seconds. Curse the world, curse the Gods, curse Yaguya, Madara and a whole litany of rotten names, what can go wrong will go wrong and everything always went wrong for Kakashi. It was bad enough that they’d taken his mask, he didn’t need whatever the fuck that thing was.

Rubber props were set into his mouth by one pair of gloved hands while another forced his jaw into submission as he did his damned best to snap and growl. Echos of a righteous ache yet to come pulled at his mouth as the props stretched his lips apart and ensured that he wouldn’t be severing any limbs in the immediate future.

Dentist appointments were already on the list of things he never showed up to, never made in the first place, and whatever wicked form of the practice this was was far worse than the distant memories of his dad dragging him to the dentistry office for his six-month check-ups.

It would have been nice if the researchers deigned to subdue him with more than mild anaesthesia, would have been lovely if they just knocked him out. Whatever ideas of torture and specialised schemes the T&I department were cooking up couldn’t compare to what they had already put him through, something which he had no doubt they were unaware of.

Six-year-old Kakashi had yet to establish the hospital-self-defenestration facet of his reputation.

Six-year-old Kakashi hadn’t established much of a reputation at all outside of his quick ascension to the rank of chuunin and preference for his own company.

Except, no, that wasn’t true for this version of Kakashi. This version of Kakashi had murdered a cell of foreign nin and potentially incited the beginning of the third shinobi war. There were many things Kakashi would have traded for the horrible names that had haunted his childhood the first time around, but very few could compare to this.

“Increase the dosage.”

Wait, no, he changed his mind - better the enemy you know, his only asset right now was his intelligence… gathering, he couldn’t… he couldn’t… he...

Damn it.

Read the rest on Ao3

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 4)

BRIGHT: Even having lived in this all his life, Dave nearly gives himself a serious injury launching stuff out of his sylladex. This is a bit more nerve-wracking than John launching PDAs and towels out of the window.

TIER: I'm personally amazed that he hasn't lost any bits to improper handling of fireworks. That shit can really fuck someone that doesn't know what they're doing up, especially a small kid is at risk of losing some fingers.

CHEL: Particularly when he disposes of them in the garbage disposal - that in itself would probably be okay if one soaked the fireworks in the sink but the blades could possibly cause a spark with the metal filings in the firework… I don’t know if that’s possible but the fact that he chooses to dispose of fireworks that way implies to me that he doesn’t know how to safely handle them. I wouldn’t risk it that way myself.

TIER: Realistically the Strider home is just a huge accident waiting to happen, between all the dangerous stuff just out in the open and strewn about in precarious spots and the fetish puppets piled all over.

CHEL: Speaking of which, Dave notices “HELLO DAVE” written in sloppy bright red inside a jigsaw-piece outline on the crawlspace hatch. Dave knows it’s a mind game but opens the hatch anyway, spilling out a huge pile of Smuppets which completely envelops him. It is from here he sent his previously-seen rant to Rose. Which of course we now have to read again…

GET ON WITH IT!: 8

Now, I must mention here that, in most works, the random jumping around in time would be a count of its own for me. I hate it when that happens, it’s unnecessarily confusing. However, there is an ongoing theme of time, time-travelling, and changing timelines in Homestuck, so it at least serves to introduce us to that.

A note pinned to the hatch with a batarang reads thusly, in mismatched fonts/colours, reading eerily as if two people were writing:

bro. roof. now. bring cal. where doing it man where MAKING THIS HAPEN

At least Bro encourages Dave’s writing project, as that latter part is a SBaHJ reference.

I think we all wanted to see Dave take out some frustration on those things.

Back to John, after making a little fort with the cruxite dowels and bedsheets, he uses the Totem Lathe to make the “totems” of various item codes. As I mentioned above, I feel like this is an unnecessary step in the creation process. Why not just have a way to enter the code directly into the Alchemiter? Anyway, Rose uses the previously-useless “Shale” stash to create some more captchalogue cards, increasing John’s inventory size, and recreate the pogo ride and hammer lost to the punched cards. A randomly-entered code produces a rocket pack with a violin, cinderblock, and flower pot halfway merged inside it, leaving it unusable for its intended purpose but heavy enough to kill imps.

John looks through a copy of “Harry Anderson: Wise Guy” by Mike Caveney, encountering the hole-in-the-ace, or “A-Hole”, card trick. Silly name given here aside, it’s a real trick and the way shown is really how you do it. It gives John an idea, and he overlaps two punched cards and uses them both together, creating this.

FAILURE ARTIST: John is smarter than people give him credit for.

CHEL: Yeah, on further examination I don’t think my assumption that he didn’t know who Obama was was being very fair to him. He’s certainly easily distracted, but I don’t think any of the various cast members can truly be described as stupid.

The Pogo Hammer works fine in that it allows him to kill an imp with a single blow, but it sends him and the pogo ride the imp was on flying in the process. Fortunately, Rose is able to move his bed quickly enough to catch him. Unfortunately, those larger monsters are still slowly approaching… Exactly how fucking slowly do these things move? It’s not like the distance they have to cover is huge in proportion to their bodies.

John asks Rose why she can’t just lift the bed up to the gate with him on it, but the game doesn’t allow for that - Rose guesses it’s considered cheating. Against Rose’s advice, John decides to nap, lulled by the hypnotic spirograph of the gate, while Rose experiments with the alchemy system. Deciding to sleep while still surrounded by imps adds to our count again:

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 3

If he has time to nap, he ought to have time to emotionally react, too.

We see Rose in the mausoleum again, the fire getting closer and closer in the window, sparks of firelight flickering around her. Concerned that Dave isn’t helping her, she checks the SBurb server CD for a code to send to John so he can be her server player instead, but it has no code. Outside, the generator overheats and blows, and Rose’s laptop finally shuts down.

Another animation shows what is presumably, and is later confirmed to be, John’s dreams. From a spirograph in a clear blue sky emerge clouds, which take on the forms of John’s dad’s face and various items such as the green ghost, a birthday cake, and a harlequin, the largest and final cloud coalescing into the silhouette of a long-haired girl about John’s age who is obviously not Rose; this, we can guess, is probably GG. This fades into quick flashes of spirographs and pumpkins, and John wakes, surprised, to find GG is messaging him.

TIER: GG once more hints at knowing more about what's happening (like the fact that John's dead nanna is around to give him advice), but is apparently waiting for a specific time to say what exactly. Curiouser and curiouser.

BRIGHT: She also tells John that he needs to wake up. This sounds like a setup for an “It was all just a dream!” twist, but what she actually means is a lot weirder. It takes quite a while to get to that point, however!

TIER: Then there's a Fucking Huge Imp that's decided to impersonate King Kong and it is terrifying, who let this happen. We've got what looks like a boss battle brewing babes!

And then we cut back to Dave, who ascends to the roof with the demon puppet from somewhere worse than hell as instructed in a pretty dope looking and sounding flash. And with another sneak at his elusive as shit bro, we...

Get psyched, and then there's a new kid brought to our attention. Someone that looks quite a bit like the silhouette that showed up in John's little nap

And THEN

We get A Double Psycheout Combo as we go back to the Wayward Vagabond, who is not here for this Retrieve Arms running gag. What he is however is hungry, seeing as he scarfs down a rotten pumpkin between one frame and the next. He also doesn't have the ability to captchalogue stuff, so that's a thing he's got going for him.

Another thing to note is that he has some kind of barcode that brings back “unpleasant memories” he'd rather not think about. After getting some more cans (cans for days my dudes) he promptly declares himself the mayor of Can Town, there presumably being not much else to do while inside the room he's in. Dude seems fond of democracy, and quite obviously has issues with kings.

The guy seems to have an amusing (to me at least) thing about eating green things, nothing is safe. Not even uranium. And though the two green sticks have been munched, the rest of the chalk is used for its intended purpose. He doodles up a town layout, a chess board (with an assist from some motor oil), and then covers the walls in strange planets. A golden planet with a moon, four peculiar planets without anything orbiting them, and pretty separate from the rest a purple mirror to the golden planet. Damn dude this entire wall smells like foreshadowing.

We get a look at the strange screen thingy again, John's window still the only one showing anything, and WV is not familiar enough with whatever this contraption is to turn on the dead screens.

He the manages to accidentally bust out some kind of soda stash and it's like Christmas has come early in the bunker. It's like watching a kid get into the super sugary drinks.

CHEL: Specifically, it’s a reference to this, except it works: "The Simpsons- Homer's first day at work at Home!/" (Watch on YouTube)

TIER:

With that out of the way, we're back to the weird machine, which can show more than John apparently! The other screens are garbled though, especially screen three brings up so many questions. Like seriously what in the fresh hell is that, that right there is worthy of a round of “people not in the fandom explain what's happening”.

There's a countdown visible as well, spanning all four screens, and it gets more or less locked into that. WV then proceeds to shoot the shit for nearly four hecking hours, leaving 13 minutes to go on the countdown.

[imagitory]

D-Views: The Princess and the Frog (with guest input!)

Hi everybody! Welcome to another installment of D-Views, my on-going written review series focused around the works of the Walt Disney Company, as well as occasionally films made by other studios that were influenced by Disney’s works! For reviews for Disney films like Mary Poppins, The Little Mermaid, and Treasure Planet or non-Disney films like Anastasia, The Nutcracker Prince, or The Prince of Egypt, please consult my “Disney reviews” tag!

I’m super excited about today’s subject -- not only is its heroine my favorite Disney princess, but I also won’t be watching the movie alone! My darling mum, who has in the past helped me review Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, has graciously agreed to co-review this with me! We hope that you will join us on this magical adventure through the Louisiana bayou as we review...The Princess and the Frog!

In the early 2000′s, the Walt Disney Company -- especially its animation department -- was in trouble. Of all of the films done in the so-called “Experimental Era,” the only animated film that had made Disney a real profit was 2002′s Lilo and Stitch. The others, even if they did manage to receive favorable reviews, were all financial disappointments. The Emperor’s New Groove was fourth at the box office opening weekend behind movies like What Women Want and How the Grinch Stole Christmas and only grossed about 169 million dollars in theaters worldwide after costing 100 million to make. Brother Bear even now boasts a rather sad 37% rating at Rotten Tomatoes. And even if Atlantis: The Lost Empire hadn’t received such lukewarm reviews and been accused of plagiarizing several other movies (most notably Nadia: The Secret of the Blue Water, Stargate, and, as I’ve discussed previously, Castle in the Sky), it wouldn’t have changed the fact that it was released the same year as Dreamworks’ green monster hit Shrek. But no Experimental Era film did as badly as the last one -- Home on the Range -- which after its release in 2004 was so badly received both by critics and at the box office that it prompted Disney to write down the production costs and announce the closing of its 2D animation department for good.

But it didn’t close for good. In 2006, the new president and chief creative officer of the company, Ed Cadmill and John Lasseter, reversed the decision. The 2D animation department had one last chance to turn their dark destiny around, and in 2009, as Disney did after World War II with Cinderella and in the late 80′s with The Little Mermaid, it pinned its hopes on a beautiful, goodhearted princess.

The Princess and the Frog in some ways was Disney’s attempt to return to their Disney Renaissance roots. Its directors -- John Musker and Ron Clements -- had previously directed The Little Mermaid and Aladdin among others. The reinvented fairy tale story features magic, a theatrical villain, a prince, animal sidekicks, romance, and Broadway-musical-style songs. Even the advertising highlighted how much it wanted to remind millennial audiences of the films they grew up with, putting a spotlight on the music and beautiful hand-drawn animation, rather than the “adult,” meta humor that Dreamworks had used to advertise its films and Disney later used to advertise its next Disney princess movie, Tangled. Some production details leaked to the public, such as the title of “The Frog Princess,” the main character’s original name, and her profession as a chambermaid, also were edited upon receiving backlash, and still others (such as the use of voodoo in the plot and our black princess’s prince not being black) were just left as is. Despite all of the negative press that swirled around the project, there was also a lot of promise that Disney fans noted too, such as Dreamgirls supporting actress Anika Noni Rose being cast as Tiana, Pixar composer Randy Newman being chosen to write the film’s score and songs, and Oprah Winfrey being brought on both as a technical consultant and the voice of Tiana’s mother Eudora.

The marketing decision to focus more on nostalgic millennial adults rather than the new Generation Z is what I feel largely contributed to The Princess and the Frog not being the blockbuster Disney was hoping for. As much as I wholeheartedly believe that animation is not and has never been a children’s medium, the attitude that lingered around the public consciousness in the late 2000′s and sadly even today is that animation -- most importantly, 2D animation -- is for kids, and without the kids being just as excited to watch the film as their nostalgic parents, uncles, aunts, and older siblings, The Princess and the Frog was fighting an uphill battle, even if it was produced by a marketing monster like Disney. Even though the movie was handicapped by this bad marketing choice, however, I would still argue that The Princess and the Frog was a success. Even with that bad marketing choice, the racism-themed controversies that had swirled around its production, and the release of James Cameron’s blockbuster Avatar a week later weighing it down, Tiana costumes were selling out everywhere prior to Halloween that year. The movie still was #1 at the box office opening weekend, an honor not held by a Disney animated movie since Lilo and Stitch. It still made $104.4 million and was the fifth highest grossing film that year. It still earned pretty favorable reviews, earning an 85% at Rotten Tomatoes.

Sadly, because The Princess and the Frog wasn’t the big blockbuster that The Little Mermaid had been, Disney turned its focus more toward its 3D projects, and after the release of Winnie the Pooh in 2011 (the same weekend as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 -- COME ON, DISNEY, WERE YOU EVEN TRYING TO GIVE THIS FILM A CHANCE??), the 2D department did close its doors after all, and the studio went in a new direction with the release of Tangled. It’s a choice I lament Disney making, for as much as I’ve enjoyed most of the 3D entries to the Disney Revival, there was something so utterly magical about seeing The Princess and the Frog’s premiere at Walt Disney Studios in Burbank with my mother back in 2009. 2D animation is a beautiful art form, and it’s frustrating that Disney has turned its back on it so thoroughly after it got Disney to where it is now. The Princess and the Frog could’ve been the Great Mouse Detective to another 2D film that could’ve been a Little Mermaid and proved once again that 2D animation is for everyone, not just for kids, just as Little Mermaid did. But instead, the film that was the Revival version of The Little Mermaid was Disney’s first 3D princess film, Tangled -- and not to diss Tangled as a film, but it saddens me that it succeeded largely by playing to the public’s ignorant attitude that 3D animation is more “adult” than 2D animation and that the way to communicate that your animated movie is “for adults too” in your trailers is through using snarky meta humor rather than through artistry and complex themes.

With all this background out of the way...laissez le beau temps rouler! Let’s start the film!

Anika’s singing voice starting our film out is just a perfect introduction. Its pure, unassuming tone just ripples with sincerity as we are led into our introductory scene for our main character Tiana, her mother Eudora, and her absolutely hysterical best friend, Charlotte “Lottie” La Bouff. As we leave the La Bouff manor, we also see a touch of the “Lady and the Tramp influence” that Musker and Clements added to the production in the background design. Just by transitioning from the well-kept, affluent neighborhood in the dimming sunlight to the more run-down areas of town at night, we get a perfect, complete sense of the environment that our heroine lives in, all without any dialogue. And yet, as Mum pointed out, even the rundown areas are full of warmth and charm. Just like in Lady and the Tramp, they never look scary or shady, simply modest and maybe a little worn. On the note of charm, as well, I absolutely friggin’ adore Tiana’s dad, James. Considering how big of a role he has in the story, it’s really good that we see how big of an impact he had on his daughter through his good, hard-working attitude and love for his family and neighborhood despite not having much screen-time.

Once the “Walt Disney Pictures” banner floats by, we finally meet Tiana as an adult. As mentioned earlier, Tiana is my favorite Disney princess. Part of the reason why comes back to the fact that Tiana’s movie came out right before I started my first job (ironically enough at a restaurant in Disney World) and she inspired me to give 120% everyday, but the other reason Tiana speaks to me so much is because she reminds me quite a bit of Mum! Like my mother, Tiana is a very warmhearted, logical, and hardworking person who never sits on her laurels and is always ready to fix a problem, and it was really cool to see a Disney princess with the same kind of organized mind and stubborn work ethic that I saw in my mum growing up. That feeling I had watching Tiana’s story is one of the things that inspired me to write my Disney crossover story TrueMagic, where I wrote a character directly inspired by Mum. On top of all that, I realize that Tiana speaks a lot of the millennial and gen Z experience, having to save up a lot of money at two dead-end minimum wage jobs just to try to get ahead in a world where the cards are stacked against her. We even see her sleeping in the room she grew up in, meaning she’s still living at home as an adult to make ends meet!! Isn’t that relatable!!

I have heard others critique Randy Newman’s music, but in my opinion the score and songs developed for this movie perfectly set the mood of 1920′s New Orleans. The opening number “Down in New Orleans” is really well-paced with the medley of scenes introducing Tiana’s usual work day, Dr. Facilier’s vindictiveness and desire for Eli La Bouff’s wealth, Naveen’s playboy attitude, and Charlotte’s instant attraction to the newly arrived Prince. Of the songs, I’d personally cite Tiana’s “Almost There” and Facilier’s “Friends on the Other Side” as the strongest links, with “Gonna Take You There” as the weakest, but even if you don’t end up finding the songs catchy, I don’t think anyone can deny how well it suits the film’s setting.

Now admittedly, one critique you could give the film is its idealized, whitewashed view of historical race relations. Let’s be honest: in the 1920′s, a rich cotton baron like Eli La Bouff would not have visited a cafe on Tiana’s side of town and he would not let his precious daughter engage with Tiana as an adult either. As much as there were people who didn’t follow the common attitude that black Americans were somehow “inferior” to white Americans, if you didn’t follow that attitude, you couldn’t have expected to be very financially successful or influential in such a racist society, as Mr. La Bouff is. On top of that, Tiana would not only be facing passive prejudice when trying to open her own restaurant, like the kind the Fenner brothers express about her “background” -- she would also be likely facing active discrimination and potentially violence. As much as this film doesn’t truly represent the way things were back then, however, I would argue that the decision in the end benefits the picture, which clearly is supposed to be a fairy tale. This is a story where a girl kisses a frog, becomes one herself, meets an alligator who plays the blues and a firefly in love with a star, and both fights against and alongside people who practice voodoo. It may have a historical backdrop, kind of like Pocahontas and The Great Mouse Detective do, but it is still a fantasy. There are other films that aim to teach us about how things really were back then, so why can’t we have one where a young black American lives her own fairy tale in the iconic Crescent City? Plus, in Mum’s words, an integral part of this story is the pure, unlikely friendship between Charlotte and Tiana, which would have been close to impossible in a completely historical setting. To my memory, it’s actually one of the few times we see a close friendship between two female contemporaries in a Disney princess movie -- the closest we’d had previously were relationships like Aurora with the three fairies (which was more of a familial relationship) and Belle and Mrs. Potts (which...yeah, big generation gap). Even in films that came later, we have Elsa and Anna, but they’re sisters, not just friends. And Tiana having a friend like Charlotte ends up being pivotal in her eventual triumph.

Speaking of Charlotte and her friendship with Tiana, something I love about her is that she doesn’t just give Tiana the money she needs to open her own restaurant. Instead, because she knows Tiana has pride and wouldn’t just accept the money for nothing, Charlotte finds a reason for her to give her the money she needs by assigning her the task of making beignets for the ball she and her father are hosting. It’s something that reminds me a bit of my mum and her best friend, who also comes from a wealthy family -- like Charlotte, my mum’s best friend likes spending money on my mum, but has always known that she can’t buy my mum’s friendship. Both she and Charlotte know that you can only be a friend through expressing sincere caring, which is the mark of a true friend.

Ever since The Princess and the Frog first came out, “Almost There” has been my work mantra, and every time I hear it, I just am full of drive and excitement. The animation for this sequence -- animated by senior Disney icon Eric Goldberg, who previously worked on the Rhapsody in Blue segment in Fantasia 2000 and was the supervising animator for the Genie in Aladdin -- is also pitch perfect, incorporating both Al Hiershfeld-inspired designs and an Art Deco vibe to envelope us in Tiana’s fantasy. It’s one of the kind of artistic risks that Disney used to do more often, like the Pink Elephants sequence in Dumbo, the fairy’s gift sequences in Sleeping Beauty, and the Zero to Hero sequence in Hercules, and you just don’t see this sort of highly stylized song sequence in most of Disney’s newer films. The only one that comes to mind is the “You’re Welcome” sequence in Moana, which ironically enough also featured Eric Goldberg drawing all of Maui’s “Mini-Maui” tattoos! Those sorts of stylized musical numbers is something I’d love to see more of in the Disney Revival, because it gives the film in question such character and can bring an already great song to new heights.

Naveen is a character who I could’ve very easily disliked upon first meeting him. Obnoxious, selfish, and/or vain characters -- such as Lightning McQueen from Cars or even Kuzco from The Emperor’s New Groove -- really tend to rub me the wrong way, unless there is something in the character at the very beginning that makes me want to see them improve themselves. Fortunately our main prince is saved for me because we see that along with his vain, shallow, playboy attitude, he also expresses a great love of music and living life to the fullest. He doesn’t ignore his responsibilities as a prince just to be rebellious or lazy, but because he is so in love with New Orleans and its culture. He isn’t an angry or willfully condescending person: he immediately starts dancing with regular New Orleans citizens and is enthralled with the moves of a tiny street entertainer. And just as Tiana represents the millennial experience through working multiple jobs just to make ends meet, Naveen expresses a different kind of millennial experience -- that of being so sheltered by one’s privilege that, once you’re on your own, you’re incapable of sustaining the life style you’ve become accustomed to and are led by society to believe you should be able to achieve. At this point, it’s still easy to feel sorry for Lawrence, Naveen’s resident “Peter Pettigrew-look-alike” manservant, though that impulse quickly disappears after we see his interactions with our villain, Dr. Facilier. Speaking of which...

Just as Tiana is my favorite Disney princess, Dr. Facilier is my favorite Disney villain. Voiced by Keith David, the man who previously gave life to Goliath in Disney’s Gargoyles, the so-called “Shadowman” is -- in Mum’s words -- just “deliciously evil.” His voice drips with cold charisma, dipping into rich bass tones but never sounding groggy or lacking in energy, and the animation -- done by Bruce W. Smith, supervising animator for Oscar Proud from the Disney Channel show The Proud Family -- just fits David’s line-reads like a glove. Although Lawrence briefly provokes Facilier, effectively foreshadowing his true viciousness, the witch doctor largely puts on a theatrical persona that entices even the most jaded viewers in with his song “Friends on the Other Side.” Mum brought up the wonderful comparison to Oogie Boogie in Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas, and just like Oogie Boogie, Facilier’s number feels very unscripted and spontaneous, and yet it’s still conniving. Even though the song is jazzy and oddly conversational, there’s this dangerous, sinister darkness echoing in the background, not just in the echoing voices of the Friends on the Other Side but in the lyrics with multiple meanings (”when I look into your future, it’s the green that I’ve seen”). Along with the theatricality, however, Facilier doesn’t forget to also be very intimidating as a villain -- the scene where he turns Naveen into a frog gets quite scary in its imagery.

Just as everything seems to have come up roses for her, Tiana is suddenly about to lose the restaurant of her dreams for good. But there is still hope -- or, at least...there’s a frog. Or a prince. A frog pri -- you get the point. Interestingly Naveen, while a frog, reminded Mum and me of two very different characters. Mum immediately thought of Aladdin, thanks to his charming, smiling expressions, while I immediately thought of another frog seeking a kiss from a beautiful girl: Jean-Bob from The Swan Princess. I personally think the second of those is a coincidence, given that Jean-Bob and Naveen really don’t have much in common excluding a flamboyant accent, but Aladdin’s influence on Naveen’s character animation is pretty reasonable. After all, Flynn Rider’s design was also influenced by previous Disney princes.

Not having seen this movie in a while, I’d forgotten about the “frog hunters” sequence in the middle of the movie until it came on screen. I know that Tiana and Naveen had to face multiple dangers before they reached Mama Odie, not just for dramatic storytelling but also to help cement their budding relationship...but I’m sorry, the characters of the frog hunters are just...uncomfortable. The stereotypical portrayal just comes across as very mean-spirited, especially when compared to the great respect for New Orleans culture in the rest of the movie. The scene does give Tiana and Naveen good character development, though, so it’s a flaw I can overlook to enjoy the rest of the movie.

Usually I don’t enjoy Disney “sidekick” characters as much as I do more developed main or side characters, but I will grant that as sidekicks go, Louis the alligator and especially Ray the firefly are among the better ones. Louis is kind of there for humor more than to advance the plot at all, which is a shame, but Ray becomes both ridiculously charming and central to the film’s theme of love when we see his romantic side in his song “Ma Belle Evangeline.” This song has special significance to Mum and me, all because of Mum’s little Russian Blue/Short-Hair kitty, Evangeline, or Eva for short. When Eva and her sister Ella (full name Cinderella) were being driven home from the pound, the two cats were absolutely beside themselves, crying and yowling the whole way. The only thing that quieted them was me singing songs to them, including songs based on their names -- Cinderella’s opening theme (”Cinderella, you’re as lovely as your name”) for Ella, and “Ma Belle Evangeline” for Eva. Even now, Eva knows that that song is her song, and she always relaxes whenever she hears it. The song sequence in the film also beautifully reflects Tiana and Naveen’s budding relationship, which has already affected them enough that they are starting to take influence from each other. Tiana has started to open up and have some fun, while Naveen is more able to acknowledge his shortcomings and takes more responsibility. They even see eye to eye enough that they stop Louis from telling Ray that Evangeline is a star, not a firefly. Tiana/Naveen is my Disney OTP mainly because of that influence that they have on each other. Both of them are such beautifully flawed characters, but they both also teach and encourage each other to be better people than they would have been on their own.

Tiana and Naveen learn that if they want to turn human again, they need help from Charlotte, who will be “princess” of the Mardi Gras Parade until midnight that night. Unfortunately, when Tiana finds Charlotte, she finds her about to marry who she thinks is Naveen on a float in the parade. Admittedly I kind of wonder why Tiana didn’t consider that it might not be Naveen, as earlier she saw a human Naveen dancing with Charlotte before meeting frog!Naveen and so should know there’s an imposter, but I suppose it’s just story convention, to have this kind of a pre-climax misunderstanding. It’s the same reason why Naveen is locked in a box on the float where he can interrupt the wedding, rather than being stowed away more securely somewhere else, or why Charlotte didn’t turn into a frog too after not being able to turn Tiana and Naveen back.

At long last, our climax arrives. After Dr. Facilier “lays Ray low” in a scene that makes both Mum and me cry out in grief, he corners Tiana in the graveyard, enticing her with the dream she’s worked so hard for in the hopes of getting the medallion that would allow Lawrence to impersonate Naveen and Facilier to steal the La Bouff fortune. But because of all of the character development Tiana’s gone through, she remembers what’s really important -- the people she loves -- and she outdoes the Shadowman, condemning him to be yanked down into the underworld by his so-called “Friends” for all time. The growth Tia’s gone through also gives her the strength and courage needed to put her dream aside and tell Naveen about her feelings for him. And because she’s a true friend, Charlotte shows no hint of bitterness about missing out on her “happily ever after” with Naveen -- instead she immediately is supportive of her friend and tries to fight for her happiness, to the extent that she looks over the moon when Tiana and Naveen get married as humans. Even Ray, who Mum wishes desperately had been able to make it, achieves happiness by finally becoming a star beside his beloved Evangeline. As our film comes to an end with a reprise of “Down in New Orleans,” we’re left with a sense of triumph and optimism...two things that embody our newly crowned princess beautifully.

The Princess and the Frog is a movie that, in Mum’s and my opinion, should receive much more appreciation that it has. Financially speaking, it only did about as well as The Great Mouse Detective and Lilo and Stitch in theaters, but it still has left a lasting impact. I still see plenty of little girls dressing as Tiana in the parks, and I still hear about young black women and girls who have found validation and comfort in the first African American Disney princess. Even I, who share a complexion with white bread, find Tiana an engaging, brilliant role model in today’s world -- in Mum’s words, she embraces the idea of success being half inspiration and half perspiration, but she also learns the virtue in disregarding the chase for success when it comes at the cost of your values. She learns how to love, how to grow, and how to change, while also encouraging the best from those around her. The Princess and the Frog also features what I would argue is the best Disney animated villain since the Disney Renaissance, a soundtrack that embraces its setting to the Nth degree, and a prince who grows just as much as his love interest does while they are together. It’s not a perfect film, but no film is, and Mum and I hope that like other Disney films that didn’t make much money on their initial theatrical releases, we as a Disney fanbase can make this movie a cult classic and give it the love it fought so hard to earn and so rightfully deserves. Look how it lights up the screen -- ma belle Princess and the Frog!

[schoolastica]

Writer in the dark

Starker AU. Based on the song by Lorde. Also in my AO3 profile, as ilikesadstories.

Break the news, you’re walking out

To be the good man to someone else

His bags are by the Penthouse door. Tony has a lump on his throat and a Tablet in his hands showing the headlines:” Stark and Parker are officially done!!!.”

Peter has a lump in his throat and the Penthouse keys in his hands. He already said goodbye to Edith, Tony’s dalmatian, and he cleared the place of anything that belonged to him. No reason to stretch the pain more than it needs to. Tony’s back is turned on him. 

He wants to scream, to command Tony to the acknowledgment that he's leaving. He does no such thing. Tony only starts to cry when he hears the elevator doors closing. That’s it; that’s three years of relationship on a ride to the lobby. Tony suppose they have been rotten for a long time, they just didn’t want to let it go, not just yet. But it happened. After three years, 2 cop-related problems, 4 major fights, 1 photo of Tony cheating.

They hanged more than most people would. 

Sorry, I was never good like you.

 Tony Stark wasn’t a good man. Not good like Rhodes was, or good like Steve was, not nearly as a good man as Peter Parker was. He was rotten through and through, too old, too spoiled. He was a writer, he made his fortune written the sci-fi book series called “Avengers” when he was 15 and bored. All of the characters were based on his friends at the time, friends that didn’t even keep contact with him now. But he made money, real money. Enough to start his publisher, the Stark Royal Seal, worth billions, now that he was at his 50’s.It seemed like an eon ago when he was young and excited about being famous. 

That was a time, right at the beginning, that Tony loved press, every tabloid about him, good or bad, was a prize. He was 15, inexperienced and easily lead on. By his 20, he was a world-wide playboy, he never stopped being. Now, a much older man, he had written 20 novels, 15 for the Avengers series(and he's not going back to writing it, Steve deserves a rest) and 5 romances, 3 of them were a critic failure.

Now he gets to live in his big, brand new Penthouse in the middle of Manhattan, all alone; because the love of his life is going down the elevator to never come back. As he lays down, crying in the fetal position, feeling a pain he only ever felt when his parents died, he thinks he will write a novel about hurt the next morning.

 Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark 

Their first meeting was a thing from the movies. Tony Stark, the acclaimed writer, the same man that was in a sex-tape leaked last week at the same time to have a billion contract with Netflix to produce the film adaptations of his book series, had to make a commemorative reading of the 30th year of the release of Avengers: The year of the fallen.This event was the most waited for in his whole schedule, Pepper had been talking about it, how he should be dressed and how he should behave since January. 

The reading would be more symbolic than anything, it would take place in the first bookstore Tony ever did the first reading, Schmidt & Cia Bookstore. It only fits about 300 hundred people there, so the tickets at 500$ each were sold out in 40 minutes and about 10 of them were donated to raffle to the NY Writing course students.  When the day came, Tony drank so much in anxiety that Pepper almost had a fit. She arrived at the Penthouse, threw the last of his expensive scotch in the sink and practically made him look presentable. Pepper had been with him since he was 18, they had a brief romance in the ’90s but now, seeing at how they behaved, it made sense to broke up, she was more of a mother to him than anything.

 So here they were, once again at the front of Schmidt & Cia Bookstore. The building was still intact, even after years, all its colors and its old sign at the front of the window. The major difference was that now, at least a thousand of hallucinated fans were surrounding it, all screaming when his car, drove by Happy, approached. When he got out, the did the usual: smiled to everyone, old or young, talked to some reports and flirted around. He only wanted to come out of the little room they had prepared for him when the time of the reading came. When that happened, he lifted himself a little podium to speak and looked around the little crown that gathered around him.

 Some faces there surprised him, they were middle-aged men, by the end of the room, witch Tony knew were powerful. All of them looking eagerly for his words. The ones closer to the podium were pretty, extremely young. His gaze wandered in each of their faces, landing on the prettiest boy he ever laid eyes upon.  Curly, brown hair, smooth and fair skin(probably never touched) and a Cherubin's face. His brown eyes were sparkling while he held a hold, absolutely worn down a copy of his book, close to his heart. He was probably from the NY Writing course.

 It seems like a foolish thing now, how Tony took one good look at that open and fresh face and got his strength from there. But he did. He smiled at the cameras pointed at him and said: “I want to start this reading by saying that a lot has changed since the first time I did this. People came and people left, but throughout all of this, I always had this crew” he lifted the heavy book as in indicating what he was saying,” to help me”. And with that, he began the reading. The first chapter was pretty much introductory, Captain America was aboard the spaceship J.A.R.V.I.S in search of his long lost crew that was lost in their last mission. The chapter had about 4 pages of text, and while reading it, Tony couldn't stop thinking how his first draft wasn't much different than this, and how his writing style had changed since he was 15. 

When the chapter was over, everyone stood to give him a minute of applause and all of the journalists present shouted questions about him, about his legacy. He tried to ignore it because now it was time for him to give his autographs.Pepper and their team set up a little table, in front of a wall full of posters from the books, where Tony would sit and sign everything that 300 people wanted him too. He had his special pen for this, alongside with a bucket full of ice for his tired hands and a sly smile and soothing words for everyone. Tony had probably given his signature to about 100 people when he received the old and worn down first edition of his book. 

Surprised, he looked up to see that beautiful and shy boy fixing his glasses while looking at him, blushing. If Tony was a good man, an honorable man, he would have smiled and signed the book without a word, being polite but not curious about this youngster in front of him. But he was a nasty, nasty man. He smiled his sweet smile, the one he knew made people’s knees buckle and said:” You must be quite a nerd to spend this kind of money in a first edition, Mr……?’ he fished for a name. “Oh’ the boy seemed surprised that Tony recognized the book “This was a gift, actually,” The boy said.

Tony kept looking at him, for a more elaborate story.“My dad bought it when it first came out’ the boy’s voice was soft and open as his face was “He gave it to me one month before he died. That's why I want you to dedicate it to ‘Richard and Peter Parker” if that's not a bother’ he said, his voice disappearing through the sentence. Tony analyzed him, smiled broader, and wrote: To Richard and Peter Parker, always in each other's hearts. He got the book back to its owner and said:” What are you doing after this?”. 

 Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark

They meet that same night, in a new restaurant called Francesco's Dark Dinner. The whole thing was a weird concept, a place where you had to use all your senses minus the sight, and it a young, youthful place. Tony suggested an old, well-known restaurant, with fine culinary but Peter had said that it was a place with great Italian food. He arrived earlier and waited for his partner to arrive while listening to the conversation around him. 

When Peter arrived, he couldn't see how he was dressed or if he had a good day, the only thing he was glad he could do was smell a sweet, strawberry scent that he basked in. Their conversation was fluid, vivid, along with truly great food (Tony was really satisfied with his dishes) and Peter was, in no short of words, a true genius. He was in the NY Writing program and he was older than what he looked like, he was 20 years old. He was an only child, like Tony, who lost his parents at a young age, like Tony, but he never drank or took anything, unlike Tony. He almost didn't get a place at today's reading, his name was the last call, and he had cried of happiness when he got it. He was extremely polite and his voice stutters every time Tony brushed their hands together.

He was a prey ready and ripe for the taking.

 When they kissed, Peter tasted like youth.  

Stood on my chest and kept me down

Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd

Did my best to exist just for you

They had been great, really good for each other in the first year. Tony decided to be the best version of himself, he was punctual and caring. He introduced Peter to Pepper, Rhodes, and Happy as his boyfriend and he demanded respect. They pretended to dislike the boy at the beginning, saying he was too young and naive, but Tony saw Pepper’s hidden smirks, Rhodes open laughs at Peter’s stupid space jokes and saw how protective Happy became of him.

Peter's friends were a completely different story. MJ was a force to fight with, she looked at Tony as if he had killed Santa Claus with his bare hands. Ned was a funny goofy person, saw no evil in no one. Tony took them to Conney Island and they hang around the pier till sunset. During all this time, Ned would’ve shut up and MJ said about 3 words. It didn’t matter though, because Peter had smiled so wide all the time and when they went back to Tony’s place, he rode Tony’s cock like a champion.

Sex with Peter was a whole different experience. Either if they fucked quick and dirty or slow and passionate, it always made Tony shine with joy afterward. When he was younger, Tony had the habit of smoking a cigarette after a good fuck, but that ended when he quit smoking. Now, after leaving Peter sleeping in his bed, he develops the habit of writing. He starts writing and does it through the night. At the beginning, it’s just some short stories or he just describes what he just did with Peter(in very raw, crude words) but as the months are passing, it starts to form a romance novel. It’s about two man, not quite right for each other and every time Tony needs inspiration, he looks over at Peter, peaceful sleeping, his back shining with the sweat of their past activity and he has all the words he needs.

Peter was on the edge of finishing his degree and had an internship with the Osborn publishing, Tony offered him a place at his own company, Peter said no. He wats to grow alone, working in newspapers and them to release his own novel someday. Peter really wants to write a romance, but he secretly enjoys writing children’s books, actually. It really tells a lot about his personality. They are really into each other in their first year. Peter graduates and Tony is there with beautiful aunt May and Peter’s friends to celebrate. They go on summer vacation in Tony’s village in Italy and they make love under the stars there. When New Year’s Eve arrives, their picture was featured in all the major gossip magazines and Peter goes to Tony’s annual party.

 When the watch hits 0, they kiss so deeply that Tony can taste Peter’s soul. Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart7 months after their break up, Tony is releasing his first book since having crushed his heart. ‘Resorsfullness’ its called. Its a tragedy, it was developed from that first romance novel Tony had begun to write during the first year with Peter. After they broke up, his writing became bitter and it slowly morphed into an epic love tragedy. 

Pepper said it was the best works he ever did, she organized a huge US Tour and the marketing is heavy on this one. He drinks his weight and cries himself to sleep every night, but his life is still together. He still googles Peter’s name weekly and finds out that he’s releasing a second children’s book next fall. He pretends to be fine when he’s around his friends, but the only person he cant pretend to is Pepper. She sees right through all his bullshit, she invades his penthouse one day and pours his drinks in the sink and clean his kitchen. She screams at him when he wakes up and almost cries when Tony starts crying. She holds him through it all and just loves him for all he is.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you 'til my breathing stops

I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me

The first time the cops are called for them, they are dating for 19 months and they are getting tired. Tony drinks a lot, everyone knows that. Peter knows that, but he doesn’t like it. So they go to one gathering party of The Daily Budge, the newspaper Peter is working for. Tony always thought J.J. Jameson was funny, but the guy used Peter like he was a slave and pissed him off. To add up, Peters coworker, Quentin Beck, was a little shit.Peter never hid from anyone in his relationship, so Beck knew who he was seeing. Still, the guy would hit on Peter heavily and whenever he talked to Tony, he implied how old Tony was, how Peter was probably unsatisfied and that he was useless. Tony punched him, Peter screamed at Tony and they left the party in a huge arguing.

Tony gave Happy the day off so they decided to walk to and from the party, so they went the whole way to their home. At some point, they screamed so much that a passing by called the cops. It wasn’t pretty, they were on the next day’s highest searched subject on google.

The second time the cops were involved was when Tony was banging on Peter’s door at three am, begging for forgiveness, 2 weeks before they split.

But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power

I'll find a way to be without you baby

Tony’s strength cames back to him together with his words. Pepper clean his house sets him up straight and takes him to long walks in Central Park with Edith. Tony promise to stop drinking for once, he joins an AA and Rhodes and Happy take turns taking him there. Edith is the best pal he ever had, loves him and makes him do exercises every day. 

The ache in his chest slowly fades, still there, but not so latent anymore. The first work he does, besides the hurt book that Pepper makes it be a success, is poems. He never wrote poems before, but the words bleed from him every sunrise and every sunset. He’s sitting in a Central Park bench, throwing a ball to Edith, that runs excited around the park, when he watches a small family picknick. He sees how the father acts with his 2 children, and watches how they sit eagerly to read ‘Polka dot dog’ by Peter Parker when the first seed of his idea is planted on the back of his mind.

He spends the next month searching about kids and by the end, he meets with Pepper to discuss having children. Tony knows she always wanted to be a mom, never found someone quite right, but when he brings that up she just laughs at him. ‘You can’t be serious, you don’t even look after yourself” she tells him. He promise he changed, that he’s ready, but it still takes her 2 months to come around the idea.They visited a Fertility clinic right after that. 

They weren’t good for each other romantically, but they are the best of the friends and the doctor says they have a good chance to conceive. 16 months after they broke up, Pepper is confirmed to be pregnant, and Tony’s heart hurt is almost healed.

I still feel you, now and then

Slow like pseudo-ephedrine

When you see me, will you say I've changed?

I ride the subway, read the signs

I let the seasons change my mind

I love it here since I've stopped needing you

Peter was, without better words to put it, Tony’s first love. He had loved that boy as much as he could, as hard as he could, but it hadn’t been enough. He experienced his first true heartbreak late in life, but now he feels it all was worth it. His daughter, Morgan, was his true love, he knew that.

She was 5 years old and she was perfect. Tony hadn’t touched a bottle of alcohol for almost 6 years now, Pepper was so proud of that. Pepper was his best friend, she was his rock of moral rightness. They lived separated, but they were 5 minutes away from each other, Morgan was starting to walk between the houses all by herself. The last book Tony published was called ‘Parenthood and all the things I didn’t know how to do’ and it was his first attempt at poems, all about parenting. It was a huge success. But Morgan didn’t like his writing. She loves small, funny little children’s books and her favorite book was Mrs.Penguin by Peter Parker. His heart stopped every time she asked him that book as a goodnight story.

 On his Sunday with her, Pepper looked apologetic to him and said she had promised to take her to a reading of the newest book Peter was going to publish but she had a party to go. He feels bile rising in his throat but he smiles and takes Morgan to see her first favorite author. The bookstore the reading is happening is small but childlike and Morgan looks amazed.

 The book is named ‘The sunflower and the frog’ and when Peter shows up to do the reading, he looks straight at Tony and smiles. Morgan is not exactly a secret, Tony and Pepper are constantly at the news, and when its time for autographs, Tony had to wait in line for 50 minutes till Morgan got her chance. Peter looks dashing, 29 years old and beaming with health and fashion. He now looks more like a man than he did before, so pretty that Tony aches. Peter gives Morgan a big smile and asks if she likes his books. The girl is absolutely besotted by the young author, opening up like a little flower and Tony can’t help thinking that Starks always falls for Parkers. Peter gives her full attention and only looks at Tony when he’s signing the book.

 He says, looking at Tony’s eyes: “I’m writing: To my dear Morgan, the happiest girl I’ve known’ and when he delivers the book back to Morgan he looks at Tony and says: What are you doing after this?