#she wants to discuss.. she wants to explain.. ee!

[crimewrought]

her painted nails hammer a staccato rhythm on her darkened phone screen: tap, tap, tap, tap. there it sits on the wooden tabletop, ostensibly silent; mockingly so, in the throes of a bar teeming with the din of people. impatience isn't the culprit behind her movements—he's not late, she's early—but maria won't attribute the action to nervousness, either. speculation, she decides, defiant. because this meeting is an amorphous one—will this be a night of conflict, or confession? in the absence of a clear answer, maria seeks one at the bottom of her dwindling drink. the malt flavour offers no reply.

she'd suggested the meeting. and so she basks in hateful waiting, brown eyes flitting routinely to the entrance of the low lit-bar. all their meetings thus far had been things of chance, maria thinks; maybe a planned encounter was simply beyond them. her scarlet mouth gives way to a smile, entertained by the image of fate's hand tugging at their rotten strings. the picture fades when he arrives, his unforgotten figure appearing in her periphery.

" i would've got you a drink, if you'd replied to my text. thanks for coming, doctor. "

starter for @embrosyn.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Terribly upset that I am willing to put so much love and effort into a relationship and people aren't willing to put in slightly more than the bare minimum for me

[punkassfrance]

Sierra Nevada - Chapter I - Ellie/Abby

Chapter I: Donner (Work Length ~1.4k) This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This work contains passing mention of cannibalism and discussion of a massacre. (Aftermath- corpses, smell, etc.) Full Series - Next Chapter

“Even though I told people to call me Linda, that was another girl’s name. I had to change my name several times because of what I had done, or rather, what had been done to me.” - Aimee Parkison, “The Innocent Party”

-

Abby

It was hard to say exactly what happened to the Fireflies. They didn’t have much to go on, once Abby and Lev finally made it to Catalina island. There were no notes, no maps, no audio logs explaining everything they needed to know. From what did remain, Abby could only say one thing for sure- it was a fucking bloodbath.

The bodies weren’t fresh. They weren’t old, either. Sometime between 2425 Constance and the moment they made it to the island, the Fireflies were wiped out. It had been a few weeks, maybe a month since the bodies hit the ground where they laid. There was no getting away from the smell; nowhere on the island was safe from the harsh reminder of whatever had happened.

Some of them looked like they went down fighting, gunpowder residue still on their fingers. Some were executed. There were missing boats along the docks- some must have made it out alive, she thought with the last bit of hope she had left. It didn’t last long.

Lev looked up from the shambles of the Fireflies, looking to Abby for hope, a plan, anything she could offer. They’d spent almost two years looking for the Fireflies, they’d been so close. It was all Abby had wanted.

But they still had fresh rope burn. They both still hungered from the pillars, and she had injuries to take care of from the cure. She still tasted blood, and tried not to focus too hard on what was stuck in her teeth.

“…come on, Lev.”

That was almost a year ago, now. Maybe if they weren’t both exhausted, starving and beaten like dogs, they would have kept looking. They wouldn’t have given up on the Fireflies.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After all they’d seen, all that had happened, some part of Abby decided it was just over. All Lev wanted was to be with Abby, and all Abby wanted to do was get the fuck out of this city.

The sailboat made it as far as San Francisco before it couldn’t keep going. Abby had tried to fix it for about a week before Lev confessed he wanted to explore inland- see what the world was like outside the coast.

“Abby?” She looks up from her journal as Lev calls her from a few yards away, pointing to a road sign he’s spent the last ten minutes uncovering. “How do you say this? Trucke?”

Abby stands and walks over to him, squinting at the sign. “It’s Truck-ee. Just how it looks. Means we���re getting close to Nevada.”

There’s been…some interruptions on their trip, to say the least. Some things Abby can’t bring herself to remember, let alone talk about- but they’re past that. Abby’s hair is slowly growing out, past her shoulders now, just enough to braid. Her hair hasn’t been this short since she was a teenager. Lev’s kept his hair short, but not fully shaved- he gets nightmares when it gets too long. But then, he gets nightmares most nights.

“What’s Nevada like?”

“What is it, October? Should be nice. We should leave before spring, though. It’s a lot of desert. We’ll go around Reno if we can help it.”

“Have you been there?” Lev lets the foliage fall back over the road sign, hands resting on the straps of his backpack.

“Nope. We’re both gonna see something new.”

They’re just outside of Donner, Abby pausing their lesson on the history of the area to take a short rest. He’s fascinated by what he’s heard, even the morbid details she barely remembers. “Book on Donner Party/murder?” is written down in her shopping list, one of the dozens of things she needs to find at some point. He’d like that, she’s certain.

“We should get moving. Should just be another day or so to Nevada.”

Lev nods and starts off down the road as Abby puts her journal away, half-jogging to keep up with him. “Hang on, Lev-”

“Gotta get a move on!”

She huffs quietly and runs until she catches up to him, glancing around the woods. He knows she’s been trying to get back in shape. It’s been tricky, after everything that happened in Santa Barbara, but not as hard as she feared it would be. Muscle comes back easier once it’s been gained the first time around, even if the limited calories complicate things. Whatever anyone had to say about the Washington Liberation Front, they kept their people fed. One of the few things she misses from Seattle.

“I’m coming.”

Ellie

“No. I’m not gonna do this again. If you walk out, I’m not going to be here if you come back.”

“That’s up to you.”

-

There was no real point in going back. There was nothing left for Ellie, after all. The possessions she’d turned into a life meant nothing anymore- Tommy probably took most of them when Dina left. If she ever decides she wants any of it back, if she ever returns to Jackson to beg for Dina’s forgiveness, she hopes Tommy at least has the decency to feel ashamed.

Not that he matters, anymore. Not that anyone in Wyoming matters. Not that anyone matters.

When she journals about it, she wants to say she hasn’t been this disconnected since she was…younger, but she can’t settle on an age. First it was Riley. Then Marlene. Then Joel. Then Dina. As much as loneliness has haunted her entire life, the more she thinks about it, it was never so tangible. There was always something there, someone keeping her tethered to humanity.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After Abby disappeared into the fog, after she stood from the water on the last shreds of energy she had and watched the horizon, it was too late. When the stars started to appear on the water, it hit her that there was nothing for her anywhere. Jackson might welcome her, but it would never be home again.

So, east. There was no real plan to it, nothing beyond get out of Santa Barbara, so that’s what she did. Wandered until she found somewhere suitable to settle down. She’s not sure what the name of the town is, just that it’s quiet. Joel would have liked it, she thinks- he loved the mountains. They never managed to get this far west together.

It looked like an old vacation town, somewhere rich people would visit when the season was right. It’s been nearly a year since she settled here, and if there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that nobody in their right mind would be here in the winter just to visit. The snow should be coming in any day now- she’ll have to prepare for it soon.

At least there’s a nice view from the back porch of the cabin she settled on. Her cabin, now. The previous owner was quickly dispatched, his spores fully aired out within a week. Now it’s just her place. She drinks the tea in her hand, thumb rubbing over the design on the mug. It’s not the same owl mug Joel had, but it’s close enough to remind her. Remind her she cared about someone for a little while.

Her place is so quiet. There’s no voices, no humming from the kitchen, no kids giggling and playing outside. It’s nothing like Jackson. If she doesn’t speak, nothing needs to be said. It’s nice. A bird sings nearby— it’s one of Ellie’s favorite sounds. Joel told her it was called a Mourning Dove.

Pushing herself back from the balcony railing, she gives the woods one last look before she turns back to the house. There’s a laundry list of things to do- prepare firewood, move the few plants that can be moved indoors, clear out the gutters— small things to handle before the snow really sets in. The greenhouse still needs fixing up, just another thing for her to get to once summer returns.

As endless as it feels, the list she’s built up is only a few years long. Ellie’s not sure what she’s going to do once she hits the end of it.

But for now, she sets her mug next to the sink and reaches for her jacket. She’s fresh out of distractions for the morning.

I'm so excited to start this series- hopefully you enjoyed chapter one, more on the way soon! Again, heed the warnings for each chapter, please be safe! Huge thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over for me, the help is very much appreciated!!

Thank you to @plum98 for the forest divider! Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

[coll2mitts]

#15 A Star is Born (1954)

When life unfortunately imitates art.

A Star is Born is a tale of addiction and fame that has four film adaptations that have nothing to do with the fact it's clear Oscar bait (although Judy did famously lose this one to Grace Kelly).  Did you guys know the entertainment industry changes and exploits people?  I surely didn't realize this until now, and that's why the academy has consistently rewarded movies that talk about how weird Hollywood is.  Y'know.  Cause there's so few of them.

I'm being glib, as this movie is probably one of the more sympathetic views of the big studio system, for all its flaws.  It focuses on Esther Blodgett, a singer in a touring band, and how her encounter and subsequent relationship with big-star actor Norman Maine changed her career, and thus her life.  This film is 3 hours long (it used to be both shorter and longer, for reasons explained later), and it *feels* that long.  For every moment of levity there are 30 minutes of pain, and while this feels tedious sometimes, it does a great job of illustrating the highs and lows of caring for someone struggling with addiction.  They burn so brightly in those small moments when everything is spectacular that it's almost worth slogging through the periods of grim instability that does nothing but foreshadow a bleak future.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story I will give a rundown below.  If you're curious how this 1954 version differs from the other three films, Be Kind Rewind has an excellent video that you should watch after reading this.  Seriously though, check out her channel, it's incredibly informative.

Esther Blodgett (Judy Garland) and the Glenn Williams Orchestra, lead by her buddy Danny McGuire (the adorable Tommy Noonan, who will forever be Gus in my eyes) have booked a gig during a benefit concert.  Norman Maine, a famous Hollywood actor, is supposed to perform as well, but he shows up drunk as a skunk and is having much more fun harassing the cast and crew than he is preparing to go on stage.  While his PR agent Matt Libby has correctly identified Norman is in no position to be in front of people, he tries to distract him by sending him to the dressing rooms to be interviewed.  This works for about 5 minutes until he hulks out and joins Esther and the gang on stage just for funsies.

In the sprit of 'fuck it, we'll do it live', Esther succeeds in getting Norman involved with the act as comedic relief, he gets the positive attention he craves from the audience, and everyone laughs like this isn't a big disaster played out in public.

Norman tries to thank Esther for saving him from looking even more like an ass by trying to get her to go to a second location with him.  Even though Esther finds this strangely sweet, Danny wisely helps her escape to their next gig and Libby takes Norman home to sleep it off.  That would be the end of it if Norman didn't arise from the grave like a vampire at 2:30am to hunt down Esther like she's his prey.  He finds her at a club on Sunset where her and her friends are rehearsing, and oh my god, it's so glorious.

I love Judy's voice; I get goosebumps every time I hear her.  She's such a powerhouse.

Also, FUN FACT: The composer of this song, Harold Arlen, scored Gay Purr-ee, so if you also think "The Man That Got Away" bares a striking resemblance to "Paris is a Lonely Town", there's a legitimate reason for that.

A now-sober Norman bombards Esther with metaphors about her excellence and gradually isolates her from the group by physically dragging her around.  Danny tries to separate them, but Esther leaves with Norman all the same to go back to her place and discuss her career goals.  When she reveals she wants to get a #1 record on Hit Parade, Norman retorts that Esther's dream is not big enough and she's wasting her time paling around with undignified gig musicians.  Esther is only slightly insulted by Norman's blatant disregard of the work she's already put in to get where she is, but buys into his promise to snag her a screen test.  Esther then breaks Danny's heart by quitting the band and asking them to move on to San Francisco without her.  Danny tries to change her mind by suggesting she might not want to trust a flake (no matter how charming he is), but Esther believes Norman sees potential in her nobody else has, igniting her desire to aim higher.

Of course Norman gets loaded after leaving Esther's house and his late night call to the head of the studio, Oliver Niles, is completely blown off as Norman trying to impress some broad he likes.  Instead, the studio ships Norman out to work on his next picture, completely abandoning Esther for 5-6 weeks.  Esther, never hearing back from Norman, moves into a cheaper place and gets a job as a roller skating waitress in an attempt to make ends meet while she attends auditions.  She manages to book a VO gig singing in a shampoo commercial, which helps Norman locate her upon his return because he recognizes her distinct voice on the television.  After tracking Esther down at the boarding house she's slumming in, Norman finally follows through with his promise and lands her a screen test.

This montage of Esther and Norman separating and reuniting is particularly bizarre as it is presented as pages in Esther's scrapbook - still sepia-tinted images with the character's dialogue dubbed over it.  It didn't feel intentional, as some of the scenes are live action, like a car or a bus pulling away from a building, or a shot of a woman's hand dipping into shampoo.  I initially assumed this artistic decision was to cut down the film's length, but the dialogue was still there, so it wasn't succeeding if that were the goal.  I later discovered the version of the film I was watching was the "restored" director's version, as the original wide-release had 30 minutes removed by order of the studio in an effort to cut down its considerable runtime.  Unfortunately, when Ron Haver, the film curator at the L.A. County Museum of Art, attempted to find the lost footage for the film's 1983 re-release, he discovered these scenes were truly lost to time (literally, as they could not find the original film reels).  Their "remedy" included displaying production stills with VO from the audio tapes they were able to locate.  Honestly, I think all of this particular section could have stayed on the cutting room floor, as it's a 30-minute detour that ends with Norman getting Esther the screen test, anyway.  I'm assuming these scenes were included as a way to show Norman struggling to help Esther despite his alcoholism, and Esther's new commitment to become famous.  We get those impressions through their initial interactions, so this not-so-little side-quest truly feels redundant. Later lost scenes, however, such as (spoiler alert) Norman's marriage proposal to Vicki, are pretty baffling omissions. I don't think the cuts robbed Judy of her Oscar win like Lorna Luft does, but it does fuck up the movie's continuity.

Upon Esther's first visit to the studio, the makeup department completely change her look after going into great detail about her flaws.  Norman hates the outcome and redoes her makeup to restore Esther's natural beauty.  Although Esther is nervous, she nails the audition and starts to book small parts, like those that require putting on a full face of makeup only to wave out the window of a train.  They even yell at her when they see her face, which is as blatant of a metaphor for being a woman in showbusiness if I ever saw one.  After the studio changes Esther's name to Vicki Lester, Norman convinces Oliver to cast Vicki as the lead in a new picture after their previous one bailed.  Upon release, the film becomes a wild success, and Vicki Lester's star quickly rises.

Y'know, I really want to take a tally of the percentage of the musicals on this list that feature their white stars in blackface or parody other racial stereotypes, cause it's more than I thought it would be.  Judy's daughter Lorna has mentioned Judy's foray into impersonating other races was "of its time", but I'm finding it incredibly exhausting and lazy that blackface is consistently used as shorthand for being poor or othered.

While the first half of this movie isn't necessarily incredibly upbeat, the rest of it goes downhill from here.  While Norman's newly released movie is getting terrible reviews, everyone is now obsessed with Vicki.  Feeling as though he's done what he could to introduce Esther to the world, Norman tries to leave her, citing he's an too-old disaster that will only drag her down.  Esther responds to this by confessing her love to him, and instead of Norman bailing, they quickly get engaged in the creepiest eavesdropping-est way on the back of the promise that Norman will quit drinking.

The pair first run to the head of the studio because apparently they need his permission to move forward with this doomed marriage.  Oliver gives his approval hoping that Vicki will be the positive influence that helps Norman stay on the straight and narrow. While Libby feels as if they're setting a trap for Vicki, he agrees to spin the story for the positive in order to give Norman some much needed good press.  Of course they exhaust any temporary good-will Libby was extending to them when the embarrassingly-named Mr. Earnest Sydney Gubbins and Esther Blodgett elope to a tiny courthouse to get married in secret.  When they reach their roadside motel honeymoon destination, Vicki hears her new song "It's a New World" on the radio as it reaches #1 on Hit Parade, implying that all of Esther's dreams have now come true.

They start their new life by purchasing an expensive house on a ocean-side cliff, only for Oliver to break the news to Norman that the studio has decided to let him go because of his inconsistent behavior.  Libby publicly plays it off like Norman is pursuing other opportunities, while in reality he's relegated to a house husband, making sandwiches, taking messages, and pensively putting golf balls.  While Norman seems generally supportive of Vicki's budding career, a delivery man calls him Mr. Lester and the bruise to Norman's ego sends him into a bender.  This starts to jeopardize Vicki's career when Norman decides to crash her Oscar acceptance speech by stumbling on stage and publicly declaring he needs a job. 

3 months later, Norman is in rehab and Vicki is on set filming her latest movie.  When Oliver comes to check on her, Vicki breaks down to one of the few people that understand her predicament, as she's both frustrated and scared by Norman's behavior.

Judy serves a heartbreaking performance during this monologue, with many speculating that this particular story hit too close to home.  Judy's life somewhat mimicked Norman's, as she was fired from MGM because of her inconsistent behavior as a result of her own addictions.  She was forced into the entertainment industry before she turned 3 years old, and even as a child was given amphetamines to keep her working and skinny. As she got older those habits became harder to break, especially when barbiturates were added to the mix to help her sleep. Most of her life had been spent earning money to provide for her parents, and then her own family, without the ability to choose if she could keep her pregnancies, or take time off after she was allowed to have Liza, in order to keep the checks rolling in for the studio. After years of constantly working with the help of prescription drugs, Judy struggled with mental health issues that the studio went through great lengths to hide, and the press was ecstatic to exploit.

Judy's husband at this time, Sid Luft, produced A Star is Born in order to cast Judy in this role and make the movie a musical.  Filming was difficult, but both Judy and James gave outstanding performances, as you feel the love between them while the heartbreak of addiction takes a toll on their marriage. Judy and Sid's relationship similarly didn't work out, as Sid confessed it was too difficult being with her.  Judy hated him toward the end of her life as custody battles kept her from her children. If you've listened to any interview with Judy or her kids, she was incredibly loving and supportive of them, valuing her family over everything else. She ended her life completely disillusioned with the same industry that lifted her up, because they were even more gleeful in knocking her down by depriving her of her own voice.

Judy is mostly remembered as a young girl belting out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", or bounding around with Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire in romantic comedies, but this movie (specifically this scene) shows how underrated as a dramatic actress she was. The end scene of this movie between Esther and Danny legitimately scared the director, as Judy had never screamed on camera before. During Judy's eulogy, James Mason said "she could wring tears out of hearts of rock," and he's not wrong.

Upon Norman's release, he runs into Libby, who lashes out at him in frustration, leading to a physical altercation that Norman follows up with another bender.  After several days of no-contact, Oscar and Esther find him in jail on a drunk and disorderly charge after he crashes his car, and Esther begs the judge to let him come home with her so she can take care of him.  She puts Norman to bed and confides in Oliver she's quitting the business to take care of her husband and give his sobriety a fighting chance.  She has forced herself to believe that love will now be enough, and that Norman can be fixed if she can devote her time to him.  When Oliver protests because Norman's career is through, Esther reiterates she wouldn't have her career without Norman's connections and encouragement.  Unfortunately Norman overhears this conversation from the other room, and takes it upon himself to release Esther from the burden of being his wife by wading into the ocean and drowning.

As much as Esther wants to process her grief in her own time, her good friend Danny pushes her to rejoin the land of the living by attending the same benefit concert she performed at a year ago when she met Norman.  Norman was incredibly proud of the fact he discovered Vicki, and Danny posits he would be disappointed if she threw it all away because of him.  Vicki decides to show up at the shrine, and when she takes the stage to introduce herself as Mrs. Norman Maine, the crowd goes wild.  While they were dismissive of Norman and his disease while he was alive, they revere him and support Vicki after his death.

This is not a movie I would revisit often, as it emotionally takes a toll, but this is an absolute must-watch. Judy's performance proves why she's considered a legend - she's funny, flirty, hopeful, frustrated, heartbroken, and devastated, and all-the-while her voice is a goddamn masterpiece. James Mason similarly does a splendid job at portraying a charismatic and caring, but flawed and proud protagonist. I'm fairly uninterested in seeing the other versions, as I could easily be happy with this being the definitive telling of this story. Judy is absolutely everything, I don't know why anybody else would even try competing with her performance.

Thanks for reading!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, please consider helping me fund this project by donating to my ko-fi :)

[lurkingteapot]

Step by Step ค่อย ๆ รัก Ep 3

Ep 3, let’s go.

- Oh, this is the kind of “morning after” regrets that really … urgh.

- (standard disclaimer of “I’m not fluent but”) text convo has some linguistic nuance lost in subs, not just because the subs cut off: Pat addresses Ae as เจ๊ /tɕéʔ/ (honorific for older women, particularly of Chinese descent) and talks about Jeng as ‘Khun Jeng’; Ae, in her response, calls Pat อีพัท /ʔiː pʰát/ -- his name with impolite/intimate prefix อี /ʔiː/, commonly transcribed as ii or ee, the feminine-speaker equivalent of dudes calling their friends ไอ้ /ʔâj/ [name] -- and มึง /mɯŋ/ while using กู /kuː/ for herself.

พัท มึงบ่นเรื่องนี้กับกูมาจะอาทิตย์นึ่งแล้วค่ะ อยากรู้ก็บอกเลยสิคะอีเสือ ไม่ก็ทำอะไรสักอย่างเถอะ ถือว่ากูขอ!!

“Pat (derogatory), you’ve been bugging me about this for a week now.” “If you want to know, just say so, tiger (derogatory)” “Or if not that, just do something, I’m begging you here!!”

She’s throwing ค่ะ/คะ “kha”s in there (Pat was not using polite particles with her) which gives it an overall sarcastic/exasperated tone, and I’m pretty sure given the overall tone the อีเสือ /ʔiː sɯ̌ːa/ is also meant as a “you coward” kind of thing considering tigers are generally considered strong, brave, and bold – sort of like English “go get them, tiger”.

As always: more advanced speakers please chime in with additions/corrections, I appreciate opportunities to learn.

Okay, on with the episode …

- Jaab is Jeng’s BROTHER???? Oh this explains SO MUCH, whoa, not least the friggin names (one’s เจ๊ง -- (very) skilled, great, awesome, one is จ๊าบ -- cool, spiffy, sharp-looking …)

- oh no, he’s read it and he’s worriiiiied/taking it to heart :(

- oh no oh no Jaab baby “Do you (big brother) have a method how to stop liking someone?” these disaster brothers, I swear.

- oh goodness, Jeng, is that the approach you’re currently trying to take with Pat?

- Jaab I get that you’ve got a crush but ffs stop hitting on the dude with a boyfriend, that way lies pain for all involved.

- oh god this is excruciating

- ahaha plot twist (of COURSE)

- he can COOK, too!! my GOODNESS

- remembering all the reasons I’ll never be a party person, yike

-15k?? what in the hiso, who’s dropping that kind of money?

- okay this is just toxic now, in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word.

- love this “I only know this person by the name they go by in daily life because nobody ever uses their legal name” thing

- careful with the camera ffs those things are EXPENSIVE

- Jaab, you’re self harming here and I’d like you to stop

- okay but Jen you’re also NOT HELPING

- these two are like a car crash

- OISHI ZERO my old friend

- oh kids don’t DO this to yourselves

- … what was this cut, am I missing something? (youtube)

- the AWKWARDNESS here, holy shit

- omg, did he crash at A Place Of Jeng’s? we knw that they Jeng said he didn’t go back to the apartment he shares with his brother, so …????

- okay apparently these men just have too many houses (or I’m misunderstanding things, which is just as likely)

- ohhh Pat come ON this is NOT HELPING

- AWKWARD

- I’m laughing my ass off at Jeng, he’s incredible.

-  “WORK DISCUSSION” you’re making it WORSE please Jeng

- vibes say this is yet another dad for the bad dads of BL collection, huh. Jury’s out on the mother.

- Pat, WHY are you still in Jeng’s clothes

- … Jeng, is this you worrying about him? because “you’re so slow” is NOT the way to get people to feel supported.

- this is hitting my second hand embarrassment squick HARD rn, yikes

- oh you’ve got it BAD, Jeng, huh.

- Jeng really can’t catcha break, poor dude

- I want to go to Pearl & Oliver, that place looks so nice, gd

- ah, the classic “booze-fuelled honest conversations that half of the participants won’t be able to recall the next day” trope

- oh nooooo like Jeng needed confirmation that there’s ~potential there

- It’s so unusual to see actual more-or-less professional behaviour out of BL ship part, this is incredible (maybe sad that I think it’s incredible, idk)

- Nan is my favourite for REASONS, okay. PROFESSIONAL.

- … okay I take that back, the boy is thinking too much already, he doesn’t need MORE fodder for that, yikes

- Jeng is so sincere, it hurts me, goodness. He’s trying so hard!!

- oh no oh no this is BAD, you don’t get the aggressor and the victim into the same room for this kind of thing, ffffffffffff that’s gonna make things harder for Pat.

---

I love the pacing of this, and the fact that by starting late I don’t have to wait a week for ep 4. Good going me.

[lit-crits]

(2022) The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath (Illustrated Edition by Beya Rebai). 28/08/2024 - 01/09/2024

First time reading? Yes

Rating: 9/10

Favourite quote: "I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."

Gift from my boyfriend! Been on my reading list for AGES and this edition is sooooooo pretty. I loved this book and will definitely be reading it again. The fig tree analogy is my favourite thing about this book, so many things can be taken from it and the whole thing is beautifully written. Esther is such a good character (loads of discussions I've read online say she is a badly written character but I don't see it), she is immediately morbid right off the bat which sets her up as different to the rest of the women she lives and works with. She sees how hypocritical societal standards for women are, how she has to remain a virgin till marriage but Buddy (her boyfriend/fiancé to be?) can have sex with other women with little consequence. Sex is a key theme in the book which I didn't really expect, I think it was really interesting that when Esther gets on birth control (due to her supportive female psychiatrist, Dr Nolan - a lot to say about her) and does finally have sex (not with Buddy) she literally haemorrhages and has to go to hospital - this bit is never really fully explained by Plath. She bleeds a LOT directly after sex and then the doctor in the hospital says she is one of a kind and winks at her when he is examining her - I did not get what this meant and I can't find any answers online either? Either way it is INTERESTING that when she finally gets to have sex it is bloody and destructive. Back to Dr Nolan, she was obviously written to be the shining example of what Esther wants to be: an independent, professional woman. Nolan actively helps Esther become more independent by helping her get on birth control which gives her the sexual freedom she has always envied men for. Nolan is arguably the key reason Esther even gets better at the asylum, she is a progressive woman who supports Esther's way of thinking and she convinces Esther to try shock therapy again (after it was done incorrectly by a male doctor previously). Nolan is there right at the end of the book too, when Esther is about to go in for her review with the board of doctors, to help guide her back into society. The bit with Joan being heavily implied to be a lesbian went right over my head, had to go back and re-read that bit once I saw that analysis online. I had just read it as Joan was a mirror of Esther, and what she would have become if she hadn't gotten better which I still do think, but Joan was quite obviously crushing on Esther. I really really really did not expect Esther to make an assumed full recovery from her mental illnesses, I had presumed she was going to kill herself and that would be the end of the book. My one complaint is that Esther's descent into becoming mentally unwell seemed really quick to me, which I guess is how it can actually be in real life, like one chapter she was feeling a bit disconnected and emotionless then the next she was self-harming and planning her suicide. Overall, great book that I really recommend!

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: West Coast Avengers #26: What Is Scorpio?

November, 1987

ZODIAC ATTACK!

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh ZODIAC bluh

Maybe this time will be better. And slash or not as bad.

Its just they’re always so borrrring.

They’re a bunch of astrology obsessed crime bosses, why are they so boring? Or, wait, are they a bunch of LMDs who aren’t even life model decoying anyone because they’re dressed in silly costumes?

What’s the deal?

So last time in West Coast Avengers... uh, I don’t know that anything is relevant that I can’t just explain as I go. Let’s just say that at some recent point, Mockingbird killed someone who kind of deserved it but she didn’t tell Hawkeye because he wouldn’t agree.

Cancer: “All right! The room’s secure, and the full moon’s rising -- and Cancer rules this conjunction of the Zodiac Cartel!”

OH MY GOD YOU HUGE ASTROLOGY NERD.

Also, this conference room looks crowded. It makes me uncomfortable imagining having to sit at that table with all the elbow jostling.

So this issue starts with a lot of contextualizing that I actually really appreciate because what’s the deal with Zodiac? Sometimes they’re crimelords and sometimes they’re robots!

Thankfully, everyone is going to exposit about that until I sort of understand.

Cancer called this meeting to discuss the problem of LMDs.

The LMDs were created by the original Scorpio, Jake Fury, using the Zodiac Key. He wanted to make his own Zodiac group for the express purpose of killing Nick Fury because people that have to interact with Nick Fury tend to want to kill him. All those Christmases of Nick chomping a cigar and yelling ‘goldbricker’ at no one in particular. Terrible.

When the Defenders thwarted Jake Fury’s plan, he killed himself. SHIELD picked up the Zodiac Key and four of the LMDs. The Taurus LMD came after human guy Taurus but Iron Man wound up destroying the LMD. 

But then there was that whole Avengers/West Coast Avengers linked pair of annuals where Quicksilver showed up with a whole new team of Zodiac LMDs from who knows where. The Zodiac Cartel is worried about this because even though the Avengers captured this new LMD team, they escaped recently and are in the wild.

Taurus: “Well, I say we circle our wagons and be prepared for anything they may try!”

Scorpio, with an out-raaageous French accent: “I am veree afraid zat eet ees too late for zat, mon ami!”

Then Scorpio pulls off his mask to reveal... JACQUES LAPOINT! But then he pulls off his JACQUEST LAPOINT MASK TO REVEAL JAKE FURY OH NO!

AND HE BROUGHT A NEW TEAM OF LMD ZODIAC GODDAMMIT!

Cancer calls for guards but oops the All-New All-Different LMD Zodiac team killed all the guards.

And then they kill the whole Zodiac Cartel.

Wow, glad I didn’t bother to care about these guys.

Although... I don’t care about the Zodiac Cartel but... Libra is Mantis’ dad. It was a whole thing. You’d think it’d be more of a thing that he was just killed off. Especially since Steve Englehart is writing this and he’s the one who created Mantis and established all of her backstory and is using her in his Silver Surfer book.

It’s just weird that Libra is killed without fanfare. Apparently, more than ten years later, it’s going to be revealed he just faked his death. By ragdolling and holding really still, I guess.

Anyway, even counting Libra playing dead, the LMD Zodiac missed a spot. Taurus, Cornelius van Lunt, is alive and yells at Scorpio for destroying this astrology-enthusiast cartel he’d put his life into creating.

Scorpio claims he left Taurus alive on purpose, so he could kill him last. But Taurus dodges the blast from the Zodiac Key, falls through the damaged floor, and down into the mall below.

Wait. The Zodiac Cartel met in a secret conference room above a mall??

Scorpio chases after Taurus but Taurus manages to escape into the Houston Tunnels. Scorpio is reluctant to give chase because he’s worried the Marlboro Men will grab him. Iiiiii don’t know what that’s about. But point being, there’s a bull loose in a mall.

Also in the area, civvies Mockingbird is meeting an old SHIELD friend named Josyane to get the dirt on how Nick Fury is doing recently.

He’s still in a holding pattern of dealing with SHIELD internal issues because I think the Nick Fury vs SHIELD book was still delayed but the hints about what was coming have already been seeded so he’s just. Stuck in that pre-book state forever.

Josyane also has an outrageous French accent.

She asks Mockingbird if she wants to help Nick but Mockingbird says she wants to but Nick is a dumb idiot macho man and won’t accept her help because she’s an ‘outsider.’

Although, Mockingbird was really more interested in getting Nick to help her. She was hoping he’d have sorted out his shit by now so he’d have time to listen to her problems. She wants his spy advice because she had to lie to Hawkeye to his face about Phantom Rider.

Because of how she let him die for drugging her into being his girlfriend and how she doesn’t think Hawkeye will understand. But also she doesn’t like lying to him.

I guess she was hoping Nick Fury would tell her not to feel bad about it?

Mockingbird meets civvies Moon Knight and Hawkeye.

Moon Knight Marc Spector is giving Hawkeye a “crook’s eye tour of L.A.” since Moon Knight’s first case was infiltrating the L.A. underworld.

AND THAT is why Moon Knight’s first appearance was as a one-off Werewolf by Night villain who was hired to murder a werewolf. It was all part of him infiltrating werewolf hating crime.

Anyway, civvies Moon Knight Marc Spector means he’s appearing without his mask and he’s told the Avengers his name.

Mockingbird tells him he didn’t have to tell them his name. Avengers are allowed to have secret identities. Sure, none of the rest of the West Coast Avengers have a secret identity so it’d be awkward if Marc was the- well, actually, Iron Man probably won’t hang out without his mask around Marc. He only hangs out of armor because he knows and trusts the rest of the team.

ANYWAY.

Moon Knight: “Keeping secrets screwed up my life royally once! Besides, if we’re all Avengers, we need to be straight with each other!”

Mockingbird: “Well, we’re not all Avengers yet! You’re a provisional member, officially, until the rest of us vote otherwise!”

Moon Knight: “Oh sure, officially! But I’ll be accepted -- I’m certain of that!”

Hawkeye: “Good! A chairman likes to hear confidence in his troopers!”

Meanwhile, in Silicon Valley, Iron Man and Dr Pym in his floating self-aware ant airship have a little practice spare to polish up Hank’s skills so he can rejoin the team.

Which you just can tell Tony is super excited about. He wants to be on a superhero team with one of his oldest friends again! He’s felt so weird with Hank hanging around managing the Compound.

But as soon as they finish their spar and land what do you know its a bull market.

Wait. Uh... no I don’t have a better joke. Taurus is there with his Star-Blazer gun.

But even though he has a gun(?) pulled, he quickly says he’s not here to fight the Avengers. He needs their help.

I guess Iron Man and Dr Pym are intrigued by this because we see the rest of the team receiving a message from Iron Man telling them to meet at the West Coast Avengers Compound ASAP to meet “a very strange visitor.”

Mockingbird, Hawkeye, and Moon Knight are still cruising around town and swing the car around as soon as they get the message.

Adorably(?), Tigra is chasing a squirrel around. Not to eat. Just for enrichment reasons. I like to believe that specific squirrel is one of Squirrel Girl’s squirrel friends and this story got back to Squirrel Girl at one point and misled her for a while into thinking that Tigra could ALSO speak to squirrels.

Also, I think one of the decorative teeth(?) on her superhero panties are a communication device?

Last up to receive the alert is Simon Williams Wonder Man, who is in a meeting at a restaurant on the Sunshine Strip about a three picture movie deal. WITH a cut from the gross and script approval.

That’s what Simon is asking for but the people he’s meeting are reluctant to agree to it. Sure, Arkon IV has early buzz but its only just got released. How do they know that Simon is such a hot commodity.

But Simon gets the alert and takes off because he’s committed wholeheartedly to the Avengers.

He leaves his agent Mike behind to finish the deal and Mike points out, after Simon leaves, that Simon is totally going to be on the news tonight hint hint.

The movie men get the hint hint about a celebrity superhero movie actor getting free publicity and agree to the three picture deal.

Congrats, Simon!

Everyone arrives at the West Coast Avengers Compound and Taurus explains that the LMD Zodiac destroyed the Zodiac Cartel that he worked so hard for so dammit he wants the Avengers to help take them down.

Hawkeye is like yeah, no doubt we’ll do something about the LMDs but not for you, jerk.

And narrates for the Avengers who weren’t around at the time what a dick Cornelius van Lunt is.

Remember the time he hired the Avengers to work for him after putting money man Tony Stark in a bind? Insidious.

Okay, but also he and Zodiac built a giant Star-Blaster that would kill every Gemini in Manhattan. Because the Zodiac Cartel are astrology obsessed and also monsters.

Zodiac also messed with Rhodey Iron Man when Stark Industries or whatever was moving out to California.

Taurus: “I don’t deny it, Hawkeye! It was because of my recent encounter with Iron Man that I went to him for help! But the LMDs are a far greater foe! Unlike the human Zodiac members, who were chosen by their birth signs but were, like all humans, fully rounded -- the androids act precisely like their signs! They represent twelve pure forces! And yet -- that is also their greatest weakness!”

Taurus promises that he’ll use his astrology know how to help the Avengers figure out where the LMD Zodiac will strike.

Moon Knight raises the point, uh, then won’t you just go and create a new Zodiac Cartel after you use the Avengers to clear the competition? Doesn’t sound great for the heroes.

So Moon Knight uses his own astrology knowledge from his interest in the MOON. The Moon is, apparently, in Taurus right now. That’s significant, probably. Astrology. So Moon Knight tells Taurus to swear “by all you hold dear” that if the Avengers help him, he’ll go straight and never to crime again.

Taurus agrees but asks why Moon Knight would take him at his word if he does promise. Which the Avengers (West Coast) area also wondering. They might also be wondering why the provisional member is leading this interrogation. Overstepping a little, Moon Knight!

Moon Knight: “I’ll take his word because the Moon’s in Taurus -- and he and I both understand the power of the night sphere --!”

... Yup. That’s the answer I expected from Moon Knight who joined the Avengers because he thinks god wants him to.

Taurus: “Well, I’m a hard-headed businessman, Avenger, and I must confess, I’m a little disappointed that you’d base your decision on such ephemera as faith -- but as I say, I swear I’ll tread the straight and narrow if you destroy the LMDs!”

But

Taurus’ thoughts: What an idiot! These idealistic heroes will never understand the hard realities of life -- but perhaps they’ll learn a little something by how fast I recreate Zodiac once they’ve done my work for me!

Moon Knight is going to be so disappointed in him.

Anyway, Taurus predicts, based on the Moon being in Taurus and local events that would be tempting...

SCENE CUT TO THE LMD ZODIAC ATTACKING A BREEDER’S CATTLE AUCTION IN WHICHITA!

Huh. So. The Moon’s in Taurus so they’re pulling a cattle heist.

That should be endearingly goofy but yet I still hate Zodiac.

Scorpio kills one of the cattle with the Zodiac Key to establish that he can and will kill things with the Zodiac Key. Then he tells all the “good ol’ boys” to hand over all their bidding money. LMDs have expenses. Cartel rebuilding expenses.

See, if you hadn’t wiped out the whole Zodiac Cartel, you could have taken it over. That was shortsighted. You’d already infiltrated it as Scorpio, ya dingus.

Anyway, Avengers show up and assemble.

Iron Man and Wonder Man go right for Scorpio but he’s able to use the Zodiac Key to ward them off.

Wonder Man apparently still has a chip on his shoulder about Iron Man. So I guess that needs to be addressed eventually.

When Iron Man shoots a repulsor at Scorpio and the Zodiac Key blocks it:

Wonder Man: “I knew beams wouldn’t stop anything -- but now that I’m committed to the Avengers, I’m not going to worry about Iron Man’s mistakes! I’m just going to make sure the team comes out on top!”

I mean. Its a step in the right direction.

Because there’s a lot more Zodiac LMDs than there are Avengers, Zodiac is able, in many cases, to gang up on the Avengers.

Tigra gets to have a catfight with the Leo and Virgo LMDs. ‘Cause, see, she’s fighting a cat and a woman. The two things she is. Oh, the chaos of combat. You sure are random.

Tigra for her part tells Virgo to fuck off. She only wants to have a catfight with Leo.

Moon Knight fights.... uh... I guess Cancer. He has claws. But MK also muses that van Lunt steered (ha cattle pun) them right. But he would, wouldn’t he? His sudden, yet inevitable betrayal would only come after you finished the LMDs. Which Moon Knight even realizes, that it’d be dumb to trust van Lunt without further proof.

Pisces and... Aquarius attack Dr Hank Pym. Hank notes that some of the LMD designs have been changed.

Pisces: “With LMDs, human, you can always refine the essence toward greater purity!”

Aquarius: “Spoken like a Pisces -- .”

Dr Pym: “Well, speaking like a Pym, I’m refining my essence without rebuilding my body -- like this!”

And he pulls out a doohickey that redirects Aquarius’ gun blast to blast Pisces instead.

Hank’s pockets of holding sure are handy.

Hawkeye fights... LMD Taurus annnnnd Sagittarius. Firing a gas or some arrow at them, for some reason. Although, Vision has demonstrated that drugs sometimes work on mechanical lifeforms.

Libra and Gemini fight Mockingbird and try to flank her so she can’t use her pole on both of them. So she breaks the pole into two staves and bonks them. It’s basically her secret move to attach or detach her staves.

Iron Man has broken off from fighting Scorpio since Wonder Man has that covered and has used his repulsors to pin down Aries, Virgo, and Capricorn.

Tony references settling scores with Virgo since when they met in West Coast Avengers Annual #1, she took him out of the fight pretty easily by draining his armor of energy.

I hate the Zodiac because I have to keep referencing the wiki to figure out who is who. Twelve is ridiculous for a villain team! Especially since they barely have any exciting powers! Capricorn’s power is that she climbs good! NOTICE HOW ITS NOT USEFUL IN THIS FIGHT??

Sigh.

Back over at Hawkeye, he’s met a match in Sagittarius, who he says is almost as good as he is.

But Taurus tackles Hawkeye and throws off his aim. The arrow that he intended to not hit Sagittarius right in the robot heart hits Sagittarius right in the heart.

And he dies. Robot dies.

Uh oh, fervent anti-murder guy Hawkeye manslaughtered another man. Robot man.

While the West Coast Avengers are briefly distracted by a robot death rattle, Leo capitalizes on the moment to get the upper hand on Tigra. But Mockingbird and Moon Knight take advantage of Leo’s focus on Tigra to simultaneously bonk him from behind.

Pisces exclaims that she foresaw Sagittarius’ death in a PROPHETIC DREAM and they gotta bug out now or it’ll mean disaster!

She freaks out and runs, then Cancer decides ‘hey why not’ and jumps on the bandwagon.

An annoyed Scorpio decides to order a retreat rather than fight on three LMDs (or more?) down. He busts a corral to distract the West Coast Avengers with a stampede and the LMD Zodiac run awayyy.

After the Avengers off-screen re-corral the cows, Hawkeye has time to feel feelings about killing a robot man.

Hawkeye: “I didn’t mean to kill the guy -- !”

Dr Pym: “It wasn’t real Hawkeye! Just like Ultron -- not real!”

Geez, Hank. Is that how you’ve coped with your robot son Mark the Ultron dying? You’ve decided he wasn’t a real boy and you don’t need to feel anything about it?

That’s cold.

Is Vision real to you, you monster??

Jokes aside, I think by the standards of when robots are real boys in comics, the Zodiac LMDs are. They may be monomaniacally obsessed with astrology but they still fear death and can express complex, stupid ideas.

Anyway, Hawkeye being sad about manslaughtering a robot man makes Mockingbird worry anew how Hawkeye will react if he learns about Phantom Rider.

It being brought up so often makes me think we’re going to find out soon.

The narration even teases “someday we’ll find that out, but not this day!”

Anyway, in the secret base of the LMD Zodiac, Scorpio lambasts Pisces for causing a panic. He accuses her of causing the disaster she foretold. Self-fulfilling prophecy! He also calls her wimpy, watery, and washed-up because alliteration is keen.

Pisces defends herself saying that she was just acting according to her nature.

I dunno know more than the bare minimum about astrology but sure, that sounds reasonable.

Scorpio doesn’t take it a fitting excuse but he gets the yelling out of his system by yelling at Leo when he steps in to defend Pisces.

And he tells them that the loss of Sagittarius doesn’t matter because any of the LMDs (except Scorpio, one presumes) can be easily replaced using the Zodiac Key.

And as soon as the ten other LMDs do leave, he does make a new Sagittarius.

Scorpio: “There! There, high in the sky at this moment, is the sign of Sagittarius -- ! From it I draw the energy I need to form a new LMD -- a most ingenious LMD -- for who but I am the master of the Key?!!”

To Scorpio, this seems as good a time as any to recap his backstory.

Villains love exposition. They love captive audiences for it and if they don’t have an audience they love to announce it to thin air.

So the Scorpio story summarized: He tried to kill brother Nick Fury at the SHIELD field office in Las Vegas but he failed and was presumed dead when his escape ship blew up.

But Scorpio Jake Fury found himself standing over the Zodiac Key and the original Scorpio. So I guess the one that died was the meat Jake Fury. Anyway, LMD Scorpio used the key to try to kill Nick Fury again but failed and lost the key. But then got it back.He decided to go after Nick Fury again again and created his first team of Zodiac LMDs. But the Defenders and Moon Knight helped thwart him. So Jake Fury Scorpio shot himself. But then he standing over a dead Scorpio so I dunno what’s going on anymore but Scorpio declares that the answer to “Who is Scorpio?” is “The one who died -- over and over!”

And the Zodiac Key talks to him. Whudda thunk?

Zodiac Key: “Yes, Jacob Fury -- because you were the first to hold me in this realm! You and I are inescapably linked -- and your spirit will live as long as mine, even with your flesh lost to artificial substance! Your mind could not initially hold the idea that you had died and been reformulated, so it was enough that you believed yourself a different human -- until you could accept what I had done for you!”

Okay, so that explains that. Probably.

Probably. I’m not wasting brain cells trying to untangle the continuity of Jake Fury of all characters.

Anyway.

THE NEW SAGITTARIUS!

Finally, an LMD that’s actually life model decoying!

Was that so hard, comic?

Next time... Avengers. Both books are finally synchronized at December, 1987. Gotta let the East Coast team shine too.

Follow @essential-avengers​ for reasons. Like and reblog if you too don’t like Jake Fury Scorpio. If you do like him, like and reblog to confuse me.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

raven-san, can we please have a wedding crashing where jade needs to marry this girl from another crime family to consolidate power and become the next head of the leech mob :)) but floyd's like I'M BORED and annoyed that his brother's being snatched up by a random chick, so he asks basketball bros, and azul, to help save jade?

This one is super long, so I added some extra sections and placed the rest of the wedding crashing below the cut!

***Spoilers for Jamil and Floyd’s Unique Magic!!***

"I object to this wedding...!"

Pre-Wedding Jitters

A call comes for the twins in the dead of night, without warning. It’s their parents with exciting news: they’re naming Jade as the next Don Leech. The catch? The Leech mob’s in the middle of a merger with the Worm mob, and he’ll have to marry Don Worm’s daughter to secure the deal.

Jade, ever the dutiful son, is honored by his future title and calmly agrees to the arrangement. On the other hand, Floyd’s annoyed by the idea, and can’t keep quiet about his irritation. He calls out to his twin in the darkness.

“... Ne, Jade.”

“Ee, Floyd?”

“Are you really okay with going through with this? You’re just gonna do what they said? Even though you don’t know the Worms at all? Even if you’ve never met that girl before?”

“It is a request coming directly from father and mother. How could I refuse them? And, furthermore... If I do not undertake this task, then it would fall to you, the next choice to inherit the title of Don Leech. I cannot allow that to come to pass--fufu. You do so enjoy your freedom, yes?”

“... Jade, you’re so dumb sometimes. What’ll happen to your freedom, then? Will you get so busy with being the big boss and being married... that you won’t have time to play anymore?”

“... Perhaps. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

That thought doesn’t sit well with Floyd--not at all.

“I trust that you will make your own fun of the situation,” Jade reassures him. “You always do.”

As the weeks pass, Floyd sees less and less of Jade around, since he has to prepare for the wedding. Jade reassures him that he’s doing just fine, but Floyd can see right through his lies. He can tell that Jade’s more frazzled than usual--there’s a lingering to his words, and a longing in his eyes, savoring every last bit of autonomy he has before his fate is forever sealed.

Floyd hates it. He hates being lied to by his own brother, and he hates feeling powerless to stop the wedding. Floyd’s so angry that he develops this murderous aura in the weeks leading up to the wedding, which makes everyone around him shy away.

One day, he gets sick of being in the water--it’s a reminder of the wedding to come--so Floyd plays basketball on land to vent. He ends up chomping down so hard that he deflates a ball, then dunks another basketball so hard, he breaks the net.

He sprawls out on the ground and angrily shouts at the sky. His basketball bonks him on the head... and that’s when an idea hits him: maybe he can’t stop the wedding alone, but no one said he couldn’t phone some friends.

Assembling the Dream Team

Floyd first dials up Azul, who agrees to help after some whining and signing a contract agreeing to pay Azul handsomely for his services (... although truthfully, the octopus does want to help Jade, but doesn't immediately agree to do it because of his pride as a businessman).

Floyd also calls his old basketball buddies for help! Jamil and Ace are much more adamant than Azul, but Floyd strongarms them into pitching in. ("Umihebi-kun, Kani-chan, if you don't help me rescue Jade, I'll get suuuper mad, you know? I don't think you'll like me when I get mad. Moray eels are strong hunters, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem for me to track you guys down and give you a good squeeze~" "OKAY, OKAY, WE'LL DO IT!!")

Together, the four boys meet up to scheme of a way to disrupt the wedding without jeopardizing the Leech mob's future. Floyd actively leads the discussion, allowing his hidden genius to come to the surface.

Ace doesn’t contribute much to the strategy (laid out by Azul), but he does keep the spirit up with some jokes. Meanwhile, Jamil provides snacks for them when they work late into the night (though he keeps passing semi-glares to Azul whenever the octopus compliments him or tries to be friendly).

In preparation for the crashing, Azul brews some potions to give Jamil and Ace so they can take on temporary merforms. After all, the wedding will be underwater, in the Coral Sea, and they’ll need tail fins.

The date of destiny draws ever closer... and Floyd's never been so excited to cause chaos in his whole life.

The Crashing - Team Azul & Jamil

They split into two pairs on the day of the wedding—Azul and Jamil, and Floyd and Ace. Floyd uses his position as the future son-in-law to Don Worm to arrange a meeting between himself and the don... except Azul and Jamil will show up instead.

Don Worm shows up to the meeting in his finest clothes (which is very little, given that he’s a merman), sounding a bit annoyed the sudden summoning. “Make this quick, I’ve got to go see my baby girl’s big day... Wait. You fellas aren’t the F. Leech boy.”

“No, we aren’t, sir. We are his representatives... Proxies, if you will,” Azul insists, giving his warmest and most welcoming smile. He uses a tentacle to tug on Jamil’s tail, forcing him to smile too. “You see, there is an important business matter we needed to discuss with you on behalf of Floyd.”

“Hoh? And what would that be?”

“I believe my business associate would be better off explaining the matter than myself.” Azul gestures to Jamil, who has his head down.

“Oi, what’s with you? Don’t you know who I am, boy? It’s rude to not look your elders in the eye when they are speaking to you!! Show me the respect I deserve, from one professional to another!!”

“My apologies, sir.” Jamil looks up, locking eyes with the mob boss. “... Is this better?”

“Yes, that’s...”

“Snake Whisper.”

Don Worm suddenly goes glassy-eyed and slack-jawed. Azul claps at the sight, showering his partner with compliments. “As expected of the talented Jamil-san! Even one look from you can bring a mafia lord to his downfall. Truly, your Unique Magic is most impressive!”

“Save your flattery for later.”

Azul’s lips curl into a smirk as he whips out a golden contract from his briefcase and offers it to the don. “Now then, if you wouldn’t mind, sir... sign on the dotted line.”

The Crashing - Team Floyd & Ace

Ace and Floyd rush to the wedding venue, their tails cutting through the water like knives as they swim at a breakneck pace. Ace can barely keep up with Floyd, who surges far ahead.

“H-Hey, should we really be barging in like this?! Don’t mob families have weapons and other dangerous stuff? Is there a backdoor we can take instead? Hello?! Floyd-senpai, are you listening to me?!” (He isn’t.)

The open, underwater comes into view, and Floyd barrels in without any hesitation, tearing right through some decorations and knocking over the wedding cake with his tail. A loud CRASH! echoes through the waters, drawing eyes to him.

Jade stares at his brother from the altar—wide eyed, but a mirthful smile on his lips. Floyd waves to him, and then to his mom and dad in the crowd of guests. “Hiii, Jade! I’m here to pick you up now.”

The Worm girl starts sobbing, wailing something about how her special day’s been ruined, and where is her papa to put an end to this? At her signal, security guards, and some of the rougher looking guests—Worm family associates—lunge at Floyd, claws and teeth out. A few of them have produced wands, and what seem to be guns—loaded with harpoons.

“Bind the Heart!” Objects and stray magic go flying in all directions, hitting both people and wedding decorations. Cloth tears, columns crumble—but it’s one man against many, and he can only bind so many hearts before the blot starts to stack.

Ace makes it just in time, sending their foes and their weapons hurtling through the water with a blast of wind. “This is why I said to be careful, dammit! Your Unique Magic’s such a crapshoot—don’t just use it whenever, or you’ll be sushi!!!”

“Ahahahah! Kani-chan’s being all heroic today! That’s so cute. Don’t worry, I can play my part, too...!!”

Using his tail, Floyd hooks around a drifting merman and chucks him straight into another. They collide with a CRACK!—but Floyd barely registers it. He’s already bolting off, grabbing heads and smashing them together, slicing through others like a knife through butter.

There’s a crazed, frenzied look to him, gleeful laughter cutting through the waters and mixing with the Worm bride’s screeching. I forgot how scary Floyd-senpai can be, Ace realizes. (Jade and Floyd’s parents are cheering for him from their seats.)

Jade looks quite proud of his brother, even laughing along to the brutal slaughterfest. His bride stares at him incredulously. “Stop that brute! He’s ruining MY special day!!”

“No,” Jade replies calmly. “I don’t think I will. This is far too amusing to let it end so soon.”

She lets out a frustrated scream and launches herself at her groom, hands going for his throat. The Worm girl is slammed back with a strong hit to her gut, courtesy of Jade’s tail.

She flies back, slamming into a column—and feels a tail wrapping around her and squeezing tight. Constricting her to the point where it was difficult to breathe. A livid mermaid glares down at her, teeth bared in a snarl.

“No one lays a hand on my children,” Mama Leech declares. “No one.”

From the corner of her eye, the Worm girl can see that Jade has cast off his bow tie and flitted over to Floyd, embracing happily in a battlefield adorned with red ribbons trailing through the water. Her vision is abruptly blocked off by a broad-shouldered merman wearing a grimace.

“Now then, what shall we do with this one?” Papa Leech wonders aloud—though from his tone of voice, he has nothing good in store.

The Aftermath

“You’re all fish bait when daddy hears about this...!” the Worm girl warns, her words raspy. “Th-The merger won’t go through...! There’ll be war between the Leeches and the Worms...!”

A loud throat clearing comes from behind. “Fortunately, that won’t be happening.”

Azul and Jamil make their appearance, the octopus merman smugly showcasing a contract. “Ashengrotto—Azul Ashengrotto, legal and business extraordinaire at your service, Don Leech and Lady Leech.”

Papa Leech grunts. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“This?” Azul’s smirk widens. “Why, it’s a prenuptial stating that, in the case that an act of violence is enacted by the bride toward the groom, the marriage is considered null and void... and the bride’s family assets are to be claimed by the groom. Signed by Don Worm himself.”

“Wh-What?! Impossible!! How did you get daddy to sign such a stupid deal?!”

“Oh,” Jamil says nonchalantly, “we have our ways.”

“So... Uh, Jade-senpai’s still gonna be the next Don Leech?! And he’s gonna be in charge of an even bigger and richer family... How is that any better than the situation before?! You’re just giving him more resources for committing crimes!”

At that moment, two hands come down on Ace’s shoulders, causing him to freeze up.

“Kani-chaaaaan! Everyone!! Thanks so much for your help~”

“Yes, you have my sincerest thanks, Ace-san, Jamil-san... Azul.”

“It is my pleasure to assist such VIP clients. Ah, but there remains the matter of my promised payment—” (Jamil and Ace internally groan at Azul’s words.)

“Payment?” Don Leech scoffs. “After the ballsy operation you boys pulled off today... I’m more inclined to give you job offers instead of a one time sum. How do you lads feel about being hired as the Leech family’s personal lawyer, interrogator, and... well, whatever the heart one is good at.”

“My, my! Such a generous and lucrative offer—“

“There is no way I’m accepting that, especially if that means working with Azul.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I’m good at lots of stuff!! I’m the one that saved Floyd’s tail fins, is no one gonna acknowledge that?!”

“You did amazing, sweetie!!” Mama Leech chirps—her tail grip tightening until the Worm girl passes out. Ace leaps back in fright. “As a reward, why don’t you let me give you a hug?”

“S-STAY BACK!!”

“Ahahahah! Everyone’s getting along so well, Jade. Isn’t this fun? You wouldn’t be able to enjoy this if you had gone to get hitched.”

“Fufufu. You are correct, Floyd. How sad it would have been if I were to miss out on touching moments such as this. From the bottom of my heart... I thank you for thinking of me, and for rushing to my aid. I could not have asked for a better brother.”

... What Floyd doesn’t know is that this was all according to keikaku Jade’s own machinations. He would never take the order to marry lying down—but he couldn’t outright defy it without immediate consequences, either.

Thank the Great Seven Jade has reliable puppets friends to help him out of a pinch. I’ll be certain to put the additional funds we have gained to good use... Perhaps to start a little mushroom farm.

[sullina]

"You claim to be pack?" Zeldris narrowed his eyes at the mage, who returned his gaze cooly.

"If that is the appropriate term for it."

"Wait but..." the largest demon, the one coveted in the white headwrap, spoke up, "Meliodas didn't have a pack back in Stigma, how come he didn't have any problems with control then!?"

"He had his mate did he not?" Merlin asked, raising a brow. Now that she thought of it, that particular demon and the one surrounded by vines seemed familiar, "Few act as a stronger anchor than ones mate does it not?"

The other demons nodded in agreement, reluctantly concurring to her point. Meliodas may have been just fine without a pack provided he had his mate with him, but if the original Elizabeth is deceased as the mage claims... well, there's a reason few demons survive long without their mate.

"If they truly are his pa k ee cannot separate them." Estarossa spoke up, looking at Zeldris meaningfully, "You saw his reaction just now."

"We also can't train him without his full power. Mage, where did you hide it?"

"I entrusted it to the Druids of Ishtar." Merlin explained, "Meliodas would have been tasked with earning his power back via a trial they had set. Unfortunately, I doubt Straw would be able to partake in that trial. It is... a deeply personal sort of trial."

"Not to interrupt..." Elizabeth carefully spoke up, "But Straw is very exhausted right now and were all injured. Perhaps we can table this discussion for later when Straw is capable of putting his input in?"

(On a side note I want to imagine that Meliodas may have told Merlin about where he hid Gelda, just in case he was left unable to tell Zeldris her location)

Seeing how exhausted Straw was, Elizabeth lifted him to carry him properly and approached her father.

"Father, did you-"

"I heard everything, though I'm still a little confused about some things. But that can wait until later."

And with that, Straw and the other Sins as well as the Commandments (on the condition that they didn't hurt anyone) went back to the castle to have their injuries treated, Elizabeth walking ahead.

The Commandments lagged a little behind, not sure what to make of this entire situation. Unless they recieved any other orders from the Demon King, the law stated to kill any traitors, but Meliodas didn't even remember what he did. He didn't even remember his own name. Not to mention the goddess that didn't seem to remember them either and also lacked her goddess wings. And then there was the mage that Zeldris had never seen before but could swear that she might know them. There's also Gowther, who doesn't seem to remember anything either. For now though, Meliodas was their biggest concern.

(yeah, Mel probably did and even if he didn't, I can totally imagine Merlin figuring it out herself somehow. Also going forward, Merlin is probably the one who's gonna have to explain most of what happened in the last 3000 years to the commandments^^" )

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 139

Day Two of the Food Festival!  This one has a specific request from @baelpenrose, which was fun to play with in the Low-Stim session (always on day 2).

To everyone who has reached out to tell me how much they are enjoying getting to see Sophia actually relax and just have fun for once.... Y’all are the best! It’s been fun writing it, too. 

New reader shout outs go to @corvallis, @penguin--person, @amphibiousuprising, @chip5-0, and I think @lostsoul8822. I think that’s everyone... If I missed you, please DM me, and I’ll add you to the next chapter.

On with the show!

The first day of the Festival, Conor and I ended up staying through not only Maverick’s shift but the one after, just so we could drag him to our favorite spots. Day two, however, Conor was on deck as Support Personnel as well as Maverick, and neither were assigned to me - for the first half of day two, we were in the Low Stim Mode, so I was pretty sure I could brave it on my own with everyone else’s proximity alerts and my own personal hyper-alertness preventing accidental bumps.

For me, the most exciting part was the different foods offered, and the fact that I could focus on just the food. Not having to ignore the other stimuli was a completely relaxing experience. The visual of the mural, with everything present, was still completely different in the even, indirect lighting. The dual nature of it was toned down significantly, leading to the overall feel being softer and overall more pleasant without being distracting.

Halfway through a very good pad thai, I spotted Derek and Sam sitting with Ivan and poking at something that Sam was clearly excited about and Derek was equally doubtful of. I circled around so they could see me approaching, and made a point to wave. “What do you think?” I asked, trying to sign as I spoke but hampered by the food in my hands.

“It was a good try,” Derek confessed, cheeks stuffed with something that had previously been on a plate to his left as a backup plan.

Setting my food down, I grinned mischievously. “Doing my best,” I signed, leading to laughter on all sides.

“You just told him you do him the best,” Ivan murmured, my face immediately flooding red.

“That is NOT what I meant,” I tried to explain out loud, over-enunciating while I clenched my hands in embarrassment.

To his credit, Derek signed what he seemed to understand I meant, emphasizing each sign. It was clear that I had gotten several out of order and added one that changed everything overall.

After repeating the signs and getting confirmation, I shook my head and sighed dramatically. “I tried.”

Ivan was trembling with laughter. “You. You did,” he admitted. “But that was… wow.” His head dropped on his hands as he shook silently.

“Souffle pancakes?” I offered, finger spelling the word souffle since I had no freaking clue how to actually sign it.

“Egg pancake,” Derek explained, poking the one I offered and contemplating the jiggle.

“It’s cinnamon sugar, and not gooey,” I explained.

Apparently I got that one right, because Derek immediately stabbed a piece and shoved it in his mouth.  The only judgement I needed was the fact that he dragged the entire remaining pancake onto his plate.

Sam watched his roommate before contemplating his own sample. Before he could even ask, I held up a cup full of macerated berries. “And fruit topping for you, sir.”

“Are those my berries?” he asked, skeptical.

I shook my head. “Bog standard, from the consoles. Your vegetables and fruits are being used in the other shifts. We didn’t want to give anyone here unexpected tastes.”

He nodded and dumped the entire cup of fruit over his pancake, digging in happily.

Ivan batted his eyes at me until I explained. “Sam’s produce has… unexpected pairings. Tomatoes that pair with cheesecake and wines, strawberries that really go well with steak…”

“The mango that goes with beer but not fish?”

“Yeah, that one. Von soil does strange things to produce, turns out.”

“Those matcha-edamame are amazing though.”

“For ice cream, yes. For tea, less so. They’re like… cooking matcha, almost.” I laughed. They actually worked better for ice cream than matcha did, oddly - reducing the sugar content but still giving the same flavor.

“One vendor on the last day is using nothing but my produce,” Sam announced happily. “They asked my permission.”

“That’s good!” I encouraged him. “They should always ask your permission to do things like that.”

“People ask with requisition forms,” he agreed. “Mona asked in person.”

Note to self: much more patronage at Mona’s normal spot, I swore in my head.  She specialized in vegetarian dishes, and honestly made some of the best fried cabbage I’d had in my life.  Knowing that she was so considerate of Sam cemented her as my new favorite takeaway place.

After a little more chat, I finally waved my goodbyes to everyone and strolled slowly to the next tempting stall. I wasn’t really in any hurry, and did more people-watching than I did eating. Latkes were infinitely more interesting when I could overhear people arguing over family recipes.  A small bowl of udon was delicious, but not nearly as flavorful as the discussion around hot versus cold, what to top them with, egg or no egg… the only thing anyone seemed to agree on was that the smiling vendor ‘obviously’ ground their own flour, because the flour provided by the consoles was the wrong texture.

Another mental note: don’t learn to make udon.  Despite what I had previously believed, it takes a lifetime to make it right, turns out.

Wandering further down, I was delighted by the discovery of something that was very clearly Hannah’s doing: demonstrations of older food prep techniques.  Simon winked at me as he carried on a demonstration of - insanely - how to hand pull toffee. I didn’t know he could do that. Muna was demonstrating the correct way to make chapatis and handing them out as fast as she was making them. Clearly, she had been making them her whole life, because at no point did I actually see her look at them, but every single one was perfect.

Laughter erupted over my shoulder, and I whipped my head around to see the source. After wading through a crowd of smiling faces, I couldn’t help but join in.  There, right in front of the entire Ark, was Maverick trying to flip takoyaki as fast as the person demonstrating, and ending up with just a mess of octopus and batter on his side.  Both Maverick and the person guiding him were smiling, though, and in the end, the vendor handed Maverick four perfectly-round balls and quickly devoured all of the - less shapely, so to speak - ones on my partner’s side.  With an exuberant cheer and extending his arms wide to the crowd, the man exclaimed “The first takoyaki of a new student are always my favorite! Nothing tastes better!”

After bowing to his sensei, Maverick turned and spotted me, face still flushed with laughter.  He offered his food to a smaller man I did not recognize, who must have been the person Maverick was Supporting, before waving to me and continuing on.  Despite the urge to crush him in a hug, I forced my feet to stay in place and reminded myself that he was working.

By the time I trusted myself not to race after him, I realized someone had been trying to get my attention and had resorted to messaging me rather than shouting. “Phee, I don’t know what la-la land you are lost in, but look 100 yards to your four.”

The hell was Arthur doing here? He wasn’t scheduled to work this shift, as far as I was aware.  Craning my neck over my shoulder, I turned to see… Apparently a hallucination. It had to be.  There was no chance in any of the nine hells that Arthur Farro was dishing out spaghetti, much less smiling while doing it.

Almost dreamlike, I found myself drifting over to confirm that I was wrong, only to be startled when he shoved a plate with not only spaghetti but two gorgeous pieces of garlic bread under my nose. “Special plates, you can’t smell anything unless it’s on purpose.”

“You… Spaghetti?” I asked, eloquent as ever.

“Family recipe.”

“Leaning into the stereotype a bit, aren’t you?” I asked carefully before shoving as much of one thick, crusty piece of toast in my mouth as I could.

He shook his head. “Anyone who tells you their family is Italian and denies having a family recipe for anything is a damned liar.”

Skeptically, I took a bite. It was amazing. “Ah ee deh rehahee,” I tried to get out around the heap of pasta I was steadily shoving in my mouth.

“Maverick is a very bad influence on your table manners,” he observed drily, plating more portions and handing them out. “And no. Not happening.”

“You know I can cook.”

“Not the point. I also know that you will fiddle with it until it is unrecognizable, so there’s really no point in giving it to you.”

Defiantly, I took a smaller bite and chewed carefully. “Garlic, onions, obviously. Sausage and minced… Lamb? But that’s probably just for this session, knowing you it’s spicy sausage regularly.  I’m not getting carrot, though, so no soffritto? Unexpected…. Is that thyme, I’m tasting?”

“Rosemary, you heathen. And you’re still wrong.”

I mumbled to myself. “What did I get wrong? It’s gotta be the lamb… maybe he does usually use the lamb? I’m certain it is lamb…”

“It is lamb, and no, I don’t usually use it. But you left several things out.”

I stared at the plate again, confused. “I didn’t think I needed to mention the tomatoes….”

“Basil… oregano….” he drawled.

“Duhhh?” I poked through the last bite on my plate, sniffing it, trying to figure out what I was missing. “Fine, you win, I’m lost.”

“Mushrooms, Sophia. There’s mushrooms. Jeezus. It was an easy one, too.”  He showed me a bowl full of what looked like cooked and crumbled sausage, only for me to realize it was the tiniest diced mushrooms I had ever seen in my life.

“I am dying to know how you got them that small.”

“With a knife?” He arched an eyebrow at me as he turned to start another batch of sauce.

“Yeah, no shit, Arthur.”

“Correct, there is no shit in the spaghetti,” he confirmed cheekily as the vegetables started sizzling.

“Asshole,” I laughed, scraping the remaining sauce from my plate with the piece of bread I saved just for that purpose. Just as I was frowning at the sauce-less plate and remaining half-piece of bread, a scalding hot dollop of fresh sauce invaded my vision.

“You love me, because I won’t let you frown at your bread like that.”

Fiiiinnnne I sighed in my head as I shoved a piece of saucy, saucy bread into my cheeks and waggled my fingers to let him get back to work.

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[impossiblelibrary]

Today's rant brought to you by: Queer Eye Japan, can we all just try to be as kind as they try to be?

After watching the Queer Eye Japan super short season, I wanted to google to see the overall reaction to the show, make sure that my western eyes were correct in seeing the care that was given to the culture. Were cultural taboos, other than being outwardly gay, crossed? So I find this article in the top results and other than the perspective, why tho? Tokyoesque.com had an article with a higher reading level, with surface level appreciation but at least better written.

I can't get over this hate article though. Unfounded, dumb, wrong and incorrect. Do not go forward unless you like that blistering kind of anger from me.

But the reasons just get weaker as the article extends: "Hurts the country it set out to save?" Looking for white savior much? They did not go to save Japan, they gave some free shit to like 4-5 people, think smaller.

Their culture guide wasn't gay enough.

You want to suggest any lgbt insta models or celebrities, use your platform to raises some up?

"There is a growing sexless culture in Japan for married and unmarried people, and it is perilous watching Queer Eye present this without any context behind what is driving this behavior."

Sexiness is what the fab 5 embrace, unfortunately and it was probably discussed behind the scenes of how much talking about sex was allowed or polite and the conversation of not having sex is closer to the tip of the tongue rather than the feeling of sexiness. The West is not the ones blasting that information. It is across multiple Japanese printed newspapers and online stories by now and the "context" is still being discussed and debated amongst Japanese. So I don't think any outsiders should be weighing in or "explaining" this phenomenon. We can repeat what we have been told but guessing at the reasons is not our place. The reasons illustrated by the author of the article seem lacking, a take but not the only one, but who am I to speak on that being in a sexual relationship with someone who pulls from that culture?

Kiko begins to lecture Yoko-san on how she “threw away her womanhood” (referring to a Japanese idiom, onna wo suteru) by going makeup-free and wearing drab, shapeless clothes.

The mistranslation by the subtitles fixed by this author was necessary information. But Kiko didn't lecture her on it, it was brought up by Yoko before any of them arrived, that was her theme, that was what she had decided to focus on. Meanwhile, if you watched Jonathan, he understood there was no time to spend on makeup and skincare so provided her a one instrument, 3 points of color on the skin to feel prettier. That and the entire episode being the 5 treating her like a woman on a date, not trying to hook her up, which is what they did in American eps.

"In teaching a Japanese woman, who already struggles to find time for herself, how to make an English recipe, Antoni is making great TV and nothing more."

So Antoni shouldn't have taught her apple pie because it's too exotic for a Japanese woman. (Can you smell the sexism?)

He didn't make an apple pie, altho Yoko did mention her mother made that for her when she was a kid. He made an apple tartine after going to a Japanese bakery who makes that all the time. Then highlighted the apples came from Fuji in true Japanese media fashion. Honey, American television doesn't usually highlight where the ingredients come from. A Japanese producer told him to do that. So all worries handled within the same ep. She got Japanese ingredients, had the recipe shown to her and then made it for her friends in her own house. Did the author actually watch this show or nah?

"beaten over the head with his western self-help logic. “You have to live for yourself,” he says."

The style of build up the 5 went for was confrontational but in a "I'm fighting for you" way. It's hard to describe, but the best I can say is, a person has multiple voices in their head, from parents, siblings, society, and maybe themselves. By being loud and obnoxious, American staples right there, they are adding one more voice. You deserve this, you are amazing, you are worth it. I know this is against most Japanese cultural modesty, but maybe it shouldn't be.

Sarcasm lies ahead:

Apparently: mispronunciation is microaggressions, not just someone who had a sucky school system. Yea okay, They're laughing at the language not at how stumbling these monolinguals are with visiting another country. Mmhm. Japanese don't say I love you and don't touch and that should stay that way instead of maybe, once in awhile, feeling like they can hug. Yeah, let's just ignore Yoko's break down that she had never hugged her lifelong friend after hugging strangers multiple times. Maid cafes are never sexualized in Japan ever, just don't go down that one street in Akihabara where the men are led off by the hand sheepishly blushing. Gag me. And Japanese men love to cry in front of their wives and would never break down once the wife leaves. I have never seen a Japanese movie showcase that move. Grr.

"I identify as many cultures."

So you're a Japanese man when it's convenient for you to get an article published? Are you nationally Japanese or just ethnically or culturally?

Homeland is an inherently racist word?

"After the Bush administration created the Department of Homeland Security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a Republican consultant and speechwriter Peggy Noonan urged, “the name Homeland Security grates on a lot of people, understandably. Homeland isn’t really an American word, it’s not something we used to say or say now.”

Yes, let's use a Washington Post article rather than a etymology professor. Yes, the google search results increased after 2001 Homeland Security was used but the word has been around since the 1660s and I've read multiple turn of the century lit on white people returning to their homeland, i.e. the town off the coast they were born in.

"But" is not disagreeing. I think the repeated offender for the author is the not acknowledging the makeover-ees feelings. But, that is how LGBT have decided to deal with the inner voices that invade from society. They are just that, not our own, they are the influence of society, and we can choose, we have to choose, to be influenced by someone, anyone else.

Karamo can't speak about being black when an Asian is speaking about being Asian, even though the Asian gay man was feeling alone. It's called relating bitches, and I'm done with people saying that is redirecting the conversation, it's extending the conversation. That's how we talk, the spotlight is shared, especially when someone's about to cry and doesn't want to be seen as crying, time to turn the spotlight.

The gay monk wasn't good enough, you should have invited the gay politician.

Yeah, causes I'm sure a politician has all the time in the world for a quick stint and cry. They picked a Japanese monk who travels to NY because they had a guest who travels to the West too. Did you want him to stop traveling back and forth? Did you want a pure, ethnic and cultural Japanese gay man who has no ties to the west to talk to this Western educated young man? Seriously?

This is just not how it works in Japan.

Being in a multi-cultural marriage between two rebels, discussions on facets of culture are plenty in my household. Culture should be respected enough to be considered but not held on a pedestal like we should never adjust or throw some things out. LGBT being quiet and private for instance. "Being seen" was Jonathan's advice, and a good one especially for a Japanese gay man that was called feminine since he was a kid. Some gay men can hide, but as Jonathan said, he couldn't hide what he was, he couldn't hide this. So fuck it. Don't hide. It's actually more dangerous for a feminine man to come off as anxious rather than gay and proud. It makes you more of a target if they think you won't fight back. Proud means, Imma throw hands too, bitch.

This is also from the civil rights playbook going back to Black America: never hold a protest or a fight without the cameras, without being seen. LGBT have found the more seen they are, in media, in the streets, the better off we are. When LGBT Americans were being "private" about our lifestyles, we died, a la 1980s. They won't care if you start dying off if they never saw you to begin with.

And hence why I think the author's real anger is from these 5 being seen dancing flamboyantly in Shibuya, in Harajuku, afforded the privilege of doing this safely because of their tourist status, cameras and very low violence rate in Tokyo, loud and obnoxiously. Honestly, they wouldn't have been invited or nominated if they didn't want that brash American-ness coming into their home, just for a taste, at least.

Here's my real anger, my own jealousy: Japan's queer community currently does not have marriage or adoption rights. US does, so we have progressed further. But we are also not that many years from being tied to cow fences with barbed wire, beaten with baseball bats and left for dead overnight. If things are so bad over there, maybe take a few pages from the civil right playbook we took so much time to perfect and produced by the Black Americans who fought first. But so far, I only hear loss of jobs and marriages, which we still have here too. Stop trying to divide us, we are one community, LGBT around the world and we are here to try to help. Take it or leave it, it's not like we're going to go organize your own Pride parade for you.

Rant over? I guess. Is this important enough to be put in the google results along with his. Hell no, anyone with half a mind can see he's reaching more than half the time. And any argument about: this wasn't covered! There are a shit ton of conversations that are not covered in the 45 min they have. They are not a civil rights show, it's a makeover show, doing their best in that direction anyway. Know what it is.

Next blog post, what research I would guess was happening behind the scenes for each of the 5? I'm pretty sure I saw Jonathan doing Japanese style makeup there...

[carapeace]

She smiled and shook her head at the screen. Her kitty was strange sometimes. He excelled in poorly timed puns and always tried to surprise her with a pickup line. He loved roses and tended to swing his tail when he was bored. Ladybug knew, from several identity patrols, that he liked video games and movies but liked reading just as much. He loved to stargaze, had an action figure of every superhero including the one-off ones, and once he even told her that story of him wandering the streets of Paris in an astronaut helmet. (Though he hadn’t told her why. Ladybug supposed it breached the identity rule.)

But nothing matched the sheer chaos he exuded when playing Among Us.

(aka a weird fever dream thing that my midnight brain came up with)

ladybubs [pink] joined the lobby. catnerd [black] joined the lobby.

catnerd: evening mlady ladybubs: yo

foxy lady [orange] joined the lobby. turtle man [lime] joined the lobby. vye pier ee on [green] joined the lobby. Ryuko [red] joined the lobby.

Ryuko: hello!

Pegasus [white] joined the lobby. time bunny [cyan] joined the lobby. king kong [brown] joined the lobby.

king kong: hell yeah i’m ready!!

There are 2 Impostors among us. 

Ryuko: Can someone explain to me how you play this game?  turtle man: just do your tasks  foxy lady: click the map foxy lady: go to the exclamation points foxy lady: and just do what it tells you to do Ryuko: ok 

It had all been Chat’s idea. He’d wanted everyone to drop their discord so they could go on voice, but Ladybug had vehemently declined, citing identity reasons. Chat hadn’t pressed. 

-DEAD BODY REPORTED- Discuss! 

turtle man: where  vye pier ee on: nav  Ryuko: King monkey is dead? ladybubs: looks like it catnerd: i saw lb headed there catnerd: its her ladybubs: no i never went there foxy lady: skip? vye pier ee on has voted. foxy lady has voted. time bunny: i was still swiping my card turtle man: anyone who can’t get their card swipe on the first try is simply inferior time bunny: wow way to flex turtle man: i’m just built different time bunny has voted. catnerd: im telling you it’s ladybug  catnerd has voted.  ladybubs: idk black sus turtle man: she makes a fair point ladybubs has voted. turtle man has voted. Ryuko: Who do I vote for? vye pier ee on: who do you think is the impostor? Ryuko: Chat Noir catnerd: WHAT Ryuko has voted. Pegasus has voted.

No one was ejected. (Skipped)

Ryuko was doing a wonderful job playing dumb. Kagami Tsurugi was a lot of things, but she was not inexperienced. She came to win. She always came to win. But they didn’t have to know that. Marinette knew the game better than any of them, with the possible exception of Chat. She came to win, too. The two of them were an absolutely unstoppable team. Except for one thing: her lovable catboy kept getting in the way...

-EMERGENCY MEETING- Discuss!

catnerd: LSLDKIJFDKS foxy lady: what turtle man: seriously i was almost done with simon says catnerd: ITLSDK LADYBSUG ladybubs: i just caught chat noir faking a task so he called a meeting to try and blame it on me catnerd: SHE JSUT VENTED RIHGT IN FRONT OF MKE ladybubs: see Ryuko: Hmmm looks quite suspicious vye pier ee on: skip, i wanna do my tasks ladybubs: im voting chat he’s making himself sus ladybubs has voted. vye pier ee on has voted. time bunny has voted. time bunny: sorry chat youve gotta go Pegasus: Do you even have an alibi?? catnerd: i was in reactor and she vented in to try and find a kill ladybubs: nah Pegasus has voted. foxy lady has voted. turtle man has voted. catnerd has voted. Ryuko has voted.

No one was ejected. (Skipped)

Adrien ground his teeth in frustration. As much as he hated selling out his lady, he hated not being listened to even more. But he had one thing against him: he was terrible at this game. He could never convince people to trust him - he couldn’t play the social aspect of it without sounding suspicious. And Ladybug knew it. She’s playing the long game, he realized. He’d have to outsmart her if he wanted to beat her. And he knew he could never outsmart her. He sighed. The best he could do was stir up chaos, and stirring up chaos was what Chat Noir did best.

-DEAD BODY REPORTED- Discuss!

foxy lady: dang double kill ladybubs: rip viperion and carapace foxy lady: where was it ladybubs: electrical foxy lady: ah catnerd: YOU GUYS IM TELLING YOU ITS LADYBUG foxy lady: youve been a lil sus catboy foxy lady: where have you been all this time? catnerd: TRAILING LLADYBUG!!! ladybubs: he was following me around the whole map ladybubs: i only missed him when someone turned out the lights foxy lady: well if you were following her the whole time she couldn’t have been impostor Ryuko: It’s true. Chat does seem quite sus. ladybubs has voted. catnerd has voted. catnerd: vote lb if you value your lives Ryuko has voted. foxy lady has voted. Pegasus has voted.

Chat Noir was not An Impostor. 2 Impostors Remain.

Victory - Ladybug, Ryuko

Adrien shouted a surprised “goddammit” so loudly that a sleep-deprived Nathalie, feverishly working one floor down, jumped in her chair.

Marinette cackled so evilly that Tikki, who had been in her dollhouse resting, came to peer over her shoulder, making sure she wasn’t about to become the next Hawkmoth.

And Kagami Tsurugi just smiled to herself, in the dark on her phone way after her bedtime, a cool smile that comes from the rush of victory.

Play again?

New lobby

ladybubs joined the lobby. catnerd joined the lobby.

catnerd: DAMMIT BUG

Ryuko joined the lobby. turtle man joined the lobby. foxy lady joined the lobby.

turtle man: wow. WOW. foxy lady: RYUKO??? Ryuko: B-)

king kong joined the lobby.

king kong: i always get killed off first ladybubs: nothing personal man

vye pier ee on joined the lobby. time bunny joined the lobby. Pegasus joined the lobby.

time bunny: wow ryuko you are cutthroat vye pier ee on: i gotta admit you two really had me Pegasus: Agreed. ladybubs: *high five* Ryuko: ? ladybubs: high five me back!! Ryuko: *high five* ladybubs: !!! ladybubs: ok can i start king kong: yeah

There are 2 Impostors among us.

-EMERGENCY MEETING- Discuss!

foxy lady: oh come on what now catnerd: it’s ladybug turtle man: oh not again vye pier ee on: you serious man??

Marinette was tempted to make a voice chat, just to hear Chat Noir’s reaction when he found out who the impostor was. She’d pay for a ticket to see his face. She could almost picture it now - eyes wide, mouth open with shock, eyebrows furrowed with the indignation of betrayal.

Adrien was a man on a mission, and for some reason, even after last game’s debacle, nobody ever seemed to trust him. 

catnerd has voted. foxy lady has voted. turtle man has voted. vye pier ee on has voted. Ryuko has voted. Pegasus has voted. king kong has voted. time bunny has voted.

Pegasus: Rena’s pretty sus too. foxy lady: the game literally just started chat called the meeting just to get ladybug out ladybubs: and it’s not gonna work. catnerd: beware the bug!! ladybubs: ha ha. everyone knows the cat scratches harder. catnerd: wanna bet? ladybug: actually, yes. i’ll beat you into the dirt. catnerd: oh it’s on vye pier ee on: it’s never wise to challenge ladybug in anything man catnerd: >:3 ladybubs: >:3 turtle man: knock off your flirting and vote ladybug ladybubs has voted.

It was cute, how much he got into the game, Marinette decided. Even if he’d never beat her. She was a master strategist. She knew how to play the social game. She’d win every time. Still. It was adorable how he thought he could hold a candle to that. She held back a giggle as she watched him reply in the chat, thinking of how his face must have looked, challenging her.

Adrien was going to expose Ladybug and win this time. I mean, they couldn’t eject him every time, right? He was bound to win, one way or another. Even though he never won any games he played with her. This one was his for the taking. It’s on, Bug.

catnerd was not An Impostor.

[xther-mxses]

Ally's bio :: for mobile

FC: Ksenia Solo.

Fandom: None - she lives in a world of my own. ( But can be put practically anywhere! )

༻ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ༺

Basic Information.

Name: Aelazia Dianae Nevermoore

Pronunciation: (EE-LAY-ZYAH) (DEE-AH-NAY)

Nickname(s): Ally, Zia, Dee-Dee.

Age: 242 ( She looks 19-21 )

Pen Name: “Layla D.”

Race: Supernatural.

Specific species: Hybrid - Vampire/Succubus (demon).

Heritage: Largely vampire or succubi/incubi, but there are other things mixed in with it.

Relationship status: Single.

Preference? - Males. { She is quite shy and unsure of herself, as well as fearing her second half, so she often doesn’t actively seek out relationships. }

Job: She writes stories under a pen name, but hasn’t told anyone about it because she’s self-conscious about it.

Likes: Learning, exploring on her own in the calmest parts of night, fruits ( in cakes, salads, jelly, pretty much anything), the way celery crunches when she bites into it, baked potatoes, jewelry that shines in the light and is fun to play with, the dolls and her dollhouse that she grew up with.

Dislikes: Messing up when she is trying to perfect a skill ( She is quite anxious, so it only makes that worse ), the fact that she has to wear a bracelet just to keep her forms in check and to hide what she is effectively, rotten fruits or vegetables, being cornered.

OTHER FORMS

Vampire Bat

In this form, she is much like her sister. Dark, but with a bit of a red shine to her fur when in the light. She is about the same size as Aizalea is in her bat form, and just as fluffy ( if not more. )

Notes

She enjoys plasma fruits even more than her sister does. So much, that she refuses blood entirely and will starve herself ( in any form ) rather than have it.

She will not attack anyone. Aelazia almost always chooses ‘flight’ out of her ‘fight-or-flight’ instincts.

Aelazia can communicate with other bats.

She feels comfortable in this form, and enjoys ‘bathing’ in bowls, sitting under a hairdryer ( on medium heat ) and just mostly behaving like a pet of sorts.

Aelazia will definitely let people dress her up.

Oftentimes, she can be seen carrying flowers around, simply because she likes them so much.

IMP / IN - BETWEEN

Her Imp form is more of an in-between of her Succubus form and her bat form. It is small, visibly of a dark nature, but quite dainty like she is in any other form.

- She enjoys eating fruits ( no matter how much bigger than her they are ) and playing in flowers.

- Aelazia is not immune from pranks in this form, but is far less dangerous or annoying than most imps are.

- She has been known to have little ‘hide-away’ places with things she likes in them. ( Usually, a wide variety of shiny or pretty objects. )

- In this form, Aelazia can emit a high-pitched sound that can immobilize most in a relatively short time. ( However, it hurts her throat and leaves it sore - in any form - for a time. )

SUCCUBUS

In this form, she does her very best not to harm anyone. Her eyes switch from being their normal light pink, to a deep black. ( Black irises, black sclera, etc. ) Her skin takes on a bit of a different shade, her teeth grow sharper, and she cannot hide her extra features.

- Because of the stigma on hybrids of certain types, she has had trouble - resulting in scars on her wings, and on her tail, where a group of problematic supernaturals once tried to cut them off.

- Aelazia is very subconscious about this form; she does everything that she can to hide it and keep it from showing up.

- In order to keep it in check, she takes supplements. They come from a special store meant for supernaturals who need help or who choose to ‘deviate’ from their genetic code; she hides them and takes them religiously because she is terrified of hurting someone.

- If she is not properly on her supplement, she has a potential to be very dangerous.

༻ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ༺

Backstory.

Aizalea and Aelazia were born to their mother, Lady Eboneth Thorngrave; a woman of high respect and class, who had more than one secret lover after her husband’s disappearance. Believing him to be dead or to no longer love her, Eboneth did her best to move on.

While the majority of her loves were within her own species, she ( as many of her ancestors had before her ) strayed more than once, crossing the lines between other species and her own. Forbidden unions, as with many, do not often end well. Aizalea’s father, a werewolf who Eboneth had fallen in love with, turned up missing as her first husband had. Leaving her pregnant and in need of solace, a night with a friend who offered her comfort ended with her pregnancy becoming that of not only one child, but two. Two girls, with different fathers.

As the genes of most ‘fantasy’ or ‘myth’ races are widely misunderstood and quite strange to humans, explaining how it is that Eboneth birthed two girls who looked the same - but had different genes - is no easy task. Chalking it up to her own family’s history of mixed genes, Eboneth has done her best to take care of her children ( of which, she has many ) to the best of her ability. Since the loss of not one love, but two, to mysterious circumstances - Eboneth has become quite tight-lipped about her romantic encounters. She has shielded herself from the idea of finding someone and remarrying, but has had more than a few children since the twins.

“Twins run in her family,” is her excuse often given, if ever asked about Aizalea or her sister Aelazia. Her reasoning as to why she named them as she did, varies from time to time. Often, she asks the person in return, if they do not think her daughters’ names are beautiful - given her powerful and intimidating presence, this usually ends the discussion if she doesn’t feel like going into it. The truth being in part that Eboneth was under much duress during her pregnancy, she could not think very clearly when trying to come up with names for her children. She is embarrassed by this, but does think their names are pretty - as she did come up with them and their spellings on her own. ( Aside from some help from her sister. )

Growing up.

As the two girls grew up, they learned what it meant to be different. While their siblings loved them and did not care that they weren’t of ‘pure’ blood, there were those who posed a danger to them both. In the world of Supernaturals, hybridizations of certain beings is strictly prohibited. Such hybridizations as what Aizalea - called ‘Izzy’ by her family, and later, her friends - is, is one of the ones most severely sought out and destroyed. So much so, that she is one of very few that remains alive - even after the turning of the centuries.

Aelazia - called ‘Ally’ by her family - is one of the ones most often not spoken about. It is a hybridization of species so rarely occurring, that most Supernaturals do not address it. Those who do, find it an uneasy topic. Some, however, simply enjoy the hunt and the thrill gained by killing anything that isn’t seen as pure - thus putting her in danger as well.

~

Over time, Izzy showed an aptitude for singing. She spent a lot of her time doing so, when not learning from her mother or her aunt. Izzy loved to sit and make up songs out of nowhere, off the top of her head; Ally, however, liked to dance. She could sing too - but didn’t think she was very good at it, so she and Izzy played off one another - helping one another get better at either skill.

Both smarter than one would have expected, they eventually developed their own separate personalities from the other: Ally was not so apt to stand up for herself; Izzy, on the other hand, was. Soft and caring, and fierce and loyal. Izzy and Ally were inseparable for the longest time. If they weren’t learning from their mother or their aunt, they were having fun running around the mansion with their siblings. They kept each other entertained for as long as any of their ( rather huge ) immediate family could remember.

However, a free spirit like Izzy’s couldn’t be tamed for forever.

Young adults.

After pleading with her mother to let her go, Izzy moved out of her family’s old mansion and headed to the city. From there, she traveled around trying to get noticed.

This caused both good, and bad, results.

Not having thought about the possible ill consequences of being open about who she was, Izzy ended up meeting her two best friends ( and later, bandmates ) after they came in and helped her get away from rude purebloods. Since then, Izzy has stuck with them - and learned, over time, who she could trust and who she couldn’t.

Ally has stuck at home for the most part; she is far more timid and less sure of herself than her sister is, and has spent a lot of time at home learning new skills. She has given up what she used to do with Izzy when they were growing up, and doesn’t mention it often. There is a lot of times when she wishes that she had been able to leave with her sister and regrets that she didn’t.

What she wants most, is to unite with her twin again. But she’s afraid… What will happen if she leaves?

This is what she asked herself many, many times - before she too, finally left home in search of her sister.

[mrsrcbinscn]

Mother Mayhem || bdrptask

Word count: 6241

Description: Different moments between Franny and her mother, Sophea, featuring a common thread.

CW: Nothing triggering is discussed in detail but I wanna put some content warnings for the following; violence, implied slurs, slut-shaming, violence, mentions of what you’d expect from broaching the topic of Khm*r R*uge

Sophea Sor was never one to hide things from her daughter. Many survivors of war and the like shielded their children from their stories but Sophea was always straightforward about why she had to leave Cambodia. 

 Age appropriate, of course. 

 She didn’t whip out words like killing fields and genocide when her daughter was small, but she did explain that some very bad people caused some bad things to happen. She explained that people were very sick, very sad, and very hungry but couldn’t find food, so that was why she had to come to America.

 As her daughter grew older, she filled in the gaps.

Five years old…

 Mak had to leave Cambodia because people were fighting and hurting each other, and people they weren’t even fighting with got hurt too.

“Mak, I’m sleepy,” five year old Darareaksmey complained, crawling into her mother’s lap the second her mother sat down for probably the first time that day. 

 Without taking a sip of water from the plastic cup she’d just filled, a woman ran her hands, the color of the spiky balls that fall from sweetgum trees through the little girl’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled the hair tie out of her own hair and began to work her daughter’s hair into a braid.

 “You’ll be even sleepier after we finish cleaning the restaurant, baby. Then you can go straight to bed instead of tossing and turning until you do fall asleep.”

 “I want to go to bed nooooow.” The little girl pouted, crossing her arms across her chest and letting out an indignant huff. “Why do I have to clean, I’m five. Jobs are for adults.”

 “It’s not a job if I’m not paying you, silly.” Sophea Sor said, tying the ponytail holder around the braid. “It’s just chores. Kids don’t get paid for chores. Be lucky yours are inside and we don’t have a farm.”

 “Ew, farm cows are smelly.”

 “That’s right, now do you think you can mop the floor while I finish the dishes in the back?”

 “Mhm. Can I sit down a minute first?”

 “We can start after we finish this water.”

Six years old…

 A lot of people died, that’s why Mak doesn’t have a daddy, and she got separated from her own mak. None of her family could come to her wedding because she wasn’t sure if any of them were still alive and where in the world they might be. That was why little Darareaksmey being supportive of her mother marrying Adrien was so important.

 “Let go of my hair, Art! Or I’ll beat you up!” Darareaksmey shouted at her soon-to-be brother as he pulled on her braid, making her flail her arms wildly in her attempts to wallop him. “I’m gonna break your face!”

 Gaston groaned as he flicked a fuzz off of his wedding clothes, realizing he was going to have to step in if they kept this up. He did not want to step in! Dara might be younger than him and Art both but she could punch! But if he teamed up with her and hit Art, then Art would get mad and say he betrayed his brother for their step-sister, and Dara would cry because she can stay ‘step-brother’ all she wants but the second the boys say ‘step-sister’ she throws a fit, and then she and Art would just start a new fight.

 Being the big brother was exhausting sometimes.

 Luckily, Gaston didn’t have to choose whose side to fight on, because Sophie glided into the room to pry the youngest two apart.

 “Dara, be nice to your brother,” Sophie muttered, gently tugging her hair out of the braid to re-do it.

 “He started it! And he’s not my brother, he’s just Adrien’s son!”

 Sophie sighed and with one hand continued to unbraid her daughter’s hair, and with the other, beckoned Art to come closer. “That’s not what you were saying a few days ago, when we tried on your dress for the wedding. You said you were excited to have two big brothers.”

 “That was before I realized Art was mean!” Dara stuck her tongue out at him.

 “Brothers and sisters are mean to each other. Sometimes. Other times, they play together. But all of the time they don’t let anybody else be mean to each other.” Sophie explained as she started to fix Dara’s hair. “But. Art should apologize for pulling your hair.”

 Sophie stared at Art with disapproving mom eyes until he shuffled his feet and looked down at them sheepishly. “I’m sorry I pulled your hair, Dara. And called you ugly. And said I didn’t want an ugly sister. And said your flowers smelled like butt. They don’t smell like butt.”

 “Am I ugly?”

 “You’re not ugly, I was just being mean. You’re a perfectly not ugly sister I’m excited to have after my daddy marries your mommy!”

Twelve years old…

 About a quarter of the population of her mother’s home country died during the Khmer Rouge regime. Franny was lucky to have been born at all, and she should be very proud her mother taught her their language and culture.

 Franny couldn’t remember the last time someone other than her mother used her given name except to make fun of it. Even her brothers called her Franny by then.

 It was the start of a new school year and Franny dreaded the first day; not because of having to wake up early, not because of having to do homework again soon, but because new school years meant new teachers and new teachers. And new teachers for Franny and the handful of other children of Southeast Asian refugees in town meant a horrid butchering of their names at roll call.

 It was the same song and dance every year.

 Inevitably, one teacher would get to Phuc Kieu’s name and say something that sounded like “fuck you” and the class would laugh while Phuc meekly raised his hand and said, “You can just call me James.”

 Serey Mam was lucky, it wasn’t hard to correct ‘Siri’ or ‘Sare-ee’ or ‘Sar-ee’ to ‘Sa-rey.’

 It was the Lao kids that Franny felt most sorry for. Franny could only pronounce and spell Chanthanouvong, Douangphachanh, Nanthavongdouangsy, and Sibounheuang because she was also Southeast Asian so she bothered to learn. But at least with Serey’s name, teachers tried. With the Lao names they took one look at them and said ‘time to butcher it in the most egregious way possible.’ 

 She had mad respect for Chitpasong Nanthavongdouangsy, who refused to go by an “American name” and forced teachers to learn to say Chitpasong. “I was born here,” Chitpasong said one time. “Chitpasong is an American name because I’m an American person.” Franny wished that six year old Darareaksmey had had that resolve, and wished twelve year old Franny could summon it, but she didn’t. She’d rather only hear Darareaksmey from her mother because at least she said it right.

 “You look a bit glum.”

 Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

 “Hi, Mak.” Franny said, waving as she grabbed the last of the dishes from the soapy water to rinse it.

 “What’s wrong? Don’t want summer to end?”

 Franny shook her head. “No, I kind of miss all my friends. You know, the ones not in bicycling distance. I just don’t like the first day.”

 Sophie let her daughter rinse and dry the final dish before she pulled one of the dining chairs out and snapped her fingers, manicured nail pointing down at it. Franny sat down as her mother grabbed the brush from her purse resting open on the table.

 “Were girls mean to you last year?” Sophie asked as she got to brushing the knots out of Franny’s hair.

 “Not really, I just punch them if they are.”

 “Darareaksmey, we don’t resort to violence.”

 “It’s my last resort, I promise, but it’s on the table.”

 “So what’s wrong?” Sophie grabbed the hair tie from around her wrist and held it between her teeth as she started to braid from the top of Franny’s head. “You let me get this far, so you’re trapped now.”

 “It’s the teachers. I hate roll calls on the first day.” She admitted. “I feel embarrassed.”

 “About?”

 “My name.”

 That gave Sophie pause but her hands quickly got back to work on Franny’s hair. “Why?”

 “They...say it wrong. Nobody can say Darareaksmey.”

 “It’s not a name from their language, I’m sure it is difficult.”

 “They don’t even try, it’s why everyone calls me Franny, nobody has ever tried. And it makes me feel embarrassed and sorry that I have such a weird name.”

 Sophie was quiet for a long moment, her deft hands working at her daughter’s hair, until she spoke up again. “Are you embarrassed? To be Cambodian. About your name.”

 “No...it just feels bad when they get it wrong. So I let them call me Franny. Is that bad?”

 “No. I let them call me Sophie, don’t I? As long as you know how powerful your name is and why it's so special.”

 Franny turned her head toward her mother but Sophie clicked her tongue and angled her head back forward, muttering something about her hair looking lopsided if she did that again. “Heeeeey, I was paying attention to you.”

 “You’re trapped in this seat, you have to pay attention even with your back turned.”

 “Fair.  Why’s my name special?”

 “Because you are. I thought very hard about your name. Darareaksmey means ‘bright, shiny star’. I know you remember I was raising you alone before I married your father. You remember, right?”

 Franny, truthfully, sometimes forgot that Adrien Framagucci wasn’t always in her life. It was easy to forget that he wasn’t her biological father because she had never known any other man to be her father. She didn’t know her biological father’s name. Did she want to? Maybe. She hadn’t ever thought about it enough to decide anything; or to consider there was anything to decide.

 Adrien raised Franny. Not only raised her, but he’d wooed her by proving what a great dad he’d be at the same time he was courting her mother. When he came to Mr. Tran’s home to pick Sophie up for dates, he’d bring Franny some amaryllis flowers he’d grown himself. A thanks for letting me borrow your mother today, he’d say. When Franny won Kindergarten student of the month at her elementary school, Adrien asked Sophie if he could treat Franny to a celebration dinner. When Franny mentioned the memory offhand a few years later Sophie said he did that to audition to be Franny’s dad.

 Your father always knew that if he wanted me to believe he loved me, he’d have to love you, too. You were always part of the deal. He wanted to be your dad so he got to proving it to you.

 If her original dad didn’t even stick around long enough for her to remember him but the dad she had put as much effort into wooing her as he did with her mother...then was it worth knowing about him? At twelve, Franny didn’t think it was.

 “Yeah, I remember living in Mr. Tran’s shed with you.” Franny said.

 “It used to be a shed. Mr. Tran fixed it up to be a tiny little house, we had a tiny little kitchen and air conditioning! Right, so you remember it was just me and you...we aren’t the only Cambodians in Clayton County, are we?”

 Franny shook her head. “There’s some at my school. And some that live in Lovejoy, Riverdale, and Jonesboro that work at the restaurant.”

 “Mhm. Are any of them your Aunties and Uncles? I know we call everyone Auntie and Uncle, but are they my brothers and sisters?”

 “...y...yes? Yes, right?”

 Sophie shook her head. “Not one. You’ve heard me talk about my brothers and sisters in Cambodia, right? The ones I climbed trees with or who helped me sneak back into the house at night, I talk about them sometimes. I had eleven of them.”

 “...had?”

 “I’m not sure how many are still living. Or where they might be.”

 “Don’t you have their phone numbers, Mak?”

 Sophie chuckled, the warmth in it seeming out of place to Franny even at that age. It seemed like her mother was broaching a very sad and difficult topic. Cambodia was always a toss-up. It was either sad or so happy it sounded like heaven or nirvana. This did not seem like the setup to one of her mother’s rose-colored talks about Cambodia.

 “Or can you write letters?”

 “I don’t know anything, my love.” Sophie admitted. This was the first time Franny had heard her mother say ‘I don’t know anything’ since she’d been alive! “I know some of the ones who died early on during the Khmer Rouge. Because I was there when they did. But eventually we became separated, and by the time I escaped to Thailand I didn’t know where they were. My brothers, sisters, my cousins. My own mak.”

 “What about your dad?”

 “Dead. That one, I know for sure.”

 “...what happened?”

 “That part, I’ll tell you when you’re older. You’re still a child, dear. I’m only telling you some of the basics today.” She cleared her throat and continued. “I escaped across the border into Thailand and accepted I’d never see my family again. I decided it would be an insult to them to not keep living though, so I waited to be resettled to a safer country as a refugee. First I was in Thailand. Then at a re-education center in The Philippines. And then I found out I was going to America. I wasn’t here very long when I got pregnant with you.”

 “You weren’t married or anything?”

 “I was not. And I had to stop working where I was working, and then I didn’t have any more money. That’s when I walked into Mr. Tran’s restaurant and tried to trick him into thinking I was Vietnamese. He picked up my Cambodian accent right away and told me that we are united by the wars waged by the West in our countries and by our struggles in America. Mr. Tran gave me a job, right away, and even let me move in with his family. Until he converted the shed into a little house, we lived in the main house with his family. We shared a room with his youngest daughter.”

 “Leah?”

 “That’s right. So. I was alone. I was unmarried. I barely spoke English at the time; I knew French and Vietnamese from Cambodia, of course Khmer is my native tongue, but my English was embarrassing. Still is.”

 “No way, Mak! You speak English better than anybody who says that about you!” Franny argued, whirling her head around to face her mother now that she felt her hands move from her hair. “Who says that about you? I’ll cook them into soup!”

“Not. The. Point.” Sophie chastised bonking Franny on the nose with the pad of her index finger to emphasize each word. “The point is. It was a scary time for me when I first came to this country. And then when I found out I was pregnant with you it was even scarier. I wondered if I should give you up so a family with more money could raise you. Mr. Tran isn’t wealthy himself, you know, it was a situation where the poor were helping the beggar. Sometimes I still think you would have been better off...but I couldn’t do it. Maybe it was selfish to keep you, but I was so alone. I knew I’d probably still be lonely after I had you. Babies don’t learn to talk for years and even then, you’re my child, not my friend. But I could raise you to love Cambodian culture. I could teach you my language. I could make sure you knew the beautiful parts about where you came from. After everyone I ever knew was either dead or scattered who knew where around the world, I decided that raising you to be a proud Cambodian would be worth all of that loneliness.”

 Franny, had she been a couple years older, would have cried. At fourteen she might have had the emotional depth to fully comprehend what she meant to her mother. At twelve, she understood a great deal, but it did not quite move her to tears. Though, she instinctively reached for her mother’s hand, and gave it a squeeze.

 For a moment, she thought she saw the ghost of fear in her mother’s eyes, or the closest thing to it she could place at that age when her biggest fear was wasps.

 “Do you miss Cambodia, Mak?” Franny asked quietly.

 “Every day. It is a beautiful country. But it is one I will never see again so there is no use dwelling on it.”

 “Don’t say that, we can go someday.” Franny said, pouting.

 Sophie clicked her tongue at her daughter, shaking her head. “It’s too expensive. No go to your room and finish your homework. I don’t want to hear a single guitar chord until you finish.”

Twenty years old...

 The purging of intellectuals included doctors, students, artists, and musicians. The grandfather Franny never got to meet was a doctor and he died because of it. Her mother had been a university student, studying to be a doctor herself, and lied that she was a seamstress to survive. One of brothers she knew did not survive had been a musician. Sophea had more reasons than financial stability to worry about her daughter insisting on doing music.

 Franny supposed she was lucky.

 Unlike some of her first-generation friends, her mother didn’t put that much pressure on her to marry a Cambodian man. There was never any matchmaking, any suggestions of an arranged marriage meeting, nothing like that. However, the first question Sophie asked when Franny told her mother that she had joined NYU’s Southeast Asian Student Association was “are there any nice Cambodian boys, Darareaksmey?”

 It was then that Franny understood that her mother hoped for a Cambodian son-in-law even if she would not pressure her to select one.  It was also clear to her that while her mother accepted her bisexuality, she did tend to assume she’d end up married to a man, perhaps even wished she would. In the 90s and early 2000s though, Franny took that as a blessing.

 Franny did intentionally go on dates with a few Cambodian guys. She’d even had a third date planned with one.

 Enter Cornelius Robinson. Mega-genius. Absolute nerd. Hair you just wanna run your hands through. Mild-mannered. Kind. Actually interested in what she had to say. And very Not Cambodian.

 It was frankly embarrassing how quickly she was all in for that man. She didn’t have to spend all that much time with him for her to understand how her mother must have felt when she began seeing her father.

 Christmas break rolled around and she figured she should introduce her boyfriend to her family. Franny’s jaw fell right between her feet on the ground at how suspiciously well it went. 

 Hours later, she was positively mortified when, instead of telling Cornelius he could sleep in one of her brothers’ rooms, her mother followed up ‘just follow Darareaksmey to her room’ with ‘and keep it down if you get naked.’ Franny covered her face with her pillow, muttering, ‘Neil, just press down. Smother me now.’

 “Do you like him?” Franny asked her mother while they folded the laundry one afternoon.

 “Your boyfriend?”

 “No, Mak. Daddy. Of course I mean my boyfriend. So, do you like Cornelius or n-- ow!”

 Sophie withdrew the dish towel she’d just whipped Franny’s arm with and her warm laugh filled the room. “Don’t sass me, girl. I do. He’s a very rich man you’ve got wrapped around your finger, and he isn’t even old enough to be your father.”

 “Mak!” Franny’s turn to wack an arm with a dish towel. “I’m not with him for his money...okay, it’s nice that he takes me grocery shopping sometimes so I can eat decent food. But other than that I don’t care about his money.”

 Well...maybe she did a little. It wasn’t the or even a reason she began seeing him, but it was a perk she was now enjoying just like her cooking was a perk he got to enjoy. But money could only entertain her for so long. If Cornelius didn’t make her soul feel at home the way he did not even his bank account could have kept her.

 “Cornelius makes me very happy. I actually - I actually miss him when I don’t get to see him for more than like a day. I never thought I was clingy with guys or girls I dated. Guess I am.’

 “Oh, Dara. You’re just in love.”

 “Yeah, I guess I am. Are you angry?”

 Sophie stopped folding the pair of jeans in her hands and let them crumple into her lap. “Why would I be angry?”

 “He’s not Cambodian? I don’t know. You wanted me to date the Cambodian boys in the Southeast Asian Student Association.”

 “Honey,” Sophie cooed, reaching for Franny’s hand. “Only if you wanted to. I’ll admit a part of me hoped you would find a nice proud Cambodian boy. It would be wonderful if you had a husband who would help teach your children Khmer-”

 Franny bit her tongue, holding back a reminder that they’d hadn’t been dating long enough to consider marriage and kids, and that she was only twenty. Nevermind that Franny had been thinking about those things privately. Oh, not in detail. She didn’t have their future children named or anything, though, she had come to the realization that if she tried to picture herself married one day then it was to Cornelius Robinson. The idea of being a mother kind of freaked her out...but if she added ‘mother to Cornelius Robinson’s children someday’ to it, she got all giggly thinking about it.

 It was still a little early to say the M-word or the K-word to Cornelius but it wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed her mind. Franny was in love, after all.

 “- because a part of me does worry about our culture going away with your childrens’ generation if you don’t. But this is America, where there’s all types of people, not just Khmer, Chinese, Cham, or Vietnamese people. You can marry anybody you want. I speak English now anyway.”

 “Mak, I’d teach my kids Khmer.” Franny said.

 “You will?”

 “How else will we gossip about all the snobby rich families at the country club right in front of them?”

 Sophie bursted into laughter, shoving Franny over onto her side on the floor. “Oh, don’t be a gossip! Now sit up, we'll finish the laundry later. Let me do your hair so I can tell you all about the Inthavongs’ divorce.”

Twenty-three years old…

 Her mother’s life even after coming to America had been harder than Franny fully understood for most of her life up until around the time she was married. She thought she knew all about her mother’s struggle because it happened right in front of her, but there were so many parts Franny was missing.

 “Look at my handsome son-in-law! Oh, come, come, let me take some pictures to email to my brothers and sisters.”

 “Mak, they were at the wedding, they know what Cornelius looks like,” Franny whined, clinging onto his arm. “He flew them in, remember?”

 “You’re supposed to be wiping down the tables, Darareaksmey.” Sophie reminded her, gesturing around the restaurant. “Here, I’ll get that server apron off you. Thank you for helping out with dinner Cornelius. So generous with your time when you’re visiting, such a good man.”

 “He’s married, Mak.” Franny deadpanned. Sophie grabbed a mint from the bowl by the door and before she even threw it at Franny her daughter ducked for cover. “You’re getting her in the divorce!”

 It might have been the couple’s first visit to Georgia since they married a few months ago, but Cornelius knew this routine by now. In about four minutes the play-fighting would be long since over and his wife would be hanging onto her mother telling her how much she loooooved her, or how much she wanted them to treat her to a nice meal out tomorrow, or mention how priceless the look on the blonde sales lady’s face would be if two women who looked like them bought a much too expensive dress with her husband’s black card. 

 After knowing Sophie, it was clear where Franny got her...well, a lot of things from. Of course a woman like that raised Franny. Of course.

 The jangling of the bell attached to the front door interrupted Cornelius’ admiration of his wife and mother-in-law.

 Franny lifted her head up from cleaning a table. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for the nigh--”

 “YOU WHORE!” Screeched the woman who had walked in the door.

 “Hey!” Cornelius exclaimed, the scary, unfamiliar feeling of anger bubbling in his chest. “That is my w-”

 When Sophie was the one struck by the woman’s backhand, it was clear it was not Franny who was the target of that slur.

 “Did you expect me to be in the dark forever? How dare you hang around this town! How dare you show your face here!” The woman, blonde hair greying and pale skin beginning to show age, berated Sophie as she continued her assault. “You and my husband’s bastard child, right under my nose!”

 Cornelius blinked in surprise; he would have thought that his wife’s sperm donor of a biological father would have confessed to his wife about his infidelity much sooner than now, almost twenty-four years later. She must have just found out. Why else would she come to the restaurant that late at night breathing fire out her nose -- good god, he was starting to think in Franny’s folksy sayings.

 He was frozen in shock and a tinge of fear (he never was one for physical fights, see) just long enough for Franny to be the first to act. Sophie seemed fully aware of what was happening and also fully able to defend herself, yet for some reason unwilling to.

 Franny lunged forward and grabbed the oldest of the three women by the hair and tugged her away from Sophie. “Paws off my mother! She did nothing wrong!”

 The woman (if Cornelius remembered correctly, Franny’s biological father was named Peter Boyd), Mrs. Boyd, shrieked and flailed her arms until one connected with Franny hard enough to stun her into losing her grip. Mrs. Boyd turned on Franny immediately.

 “Ha! Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong? Your mother opened her legs to a married man, that’s why you’re even here! Lying like a Persian rug. I should lay you out like one.”

 “Fucking try! I’ll lay your ass out and step all over it, you wanna talk about Persian rugs.” Franny challenged, stepping around Mrs. Boyd to block her from her mother. 

 Mrs. Boyd lunged at Franny, but Franny had been in more fights that the genteel politician’s wife could have ever been in. It took her an embarrassing number of tries to land a punch on Franny and when she did, she didn’t miss her shot. While Franny was stunned, Mrs. Boyd grabbed Franny by her hair and threw her against the wall.

 It felt like hours to him that he was frozen in place, but it couldn’t have actually been more than a full minute between Sophie first being slapped and when Mrs. Boyd landed her punch on Franny. That one action finally connected Cornelius’ eyes to the rest of his body. Mrs. Boyd drew back her fist and in a display of speed and athleticism that he could never repeat again, Cornelius crossed the room and wedged himself between Mrs. Boyd and his wife.

 Lucky for him, she wasn’t a very strong puncher.

 Unlucky for him, she was wearing her ring and his cheek sliced right open.

 “You just punched my husband.” Franny snarled, reaching for a chair. “You. Just punched. My husband.”

 If Cornelius thought Franny looked scarily pissed off when a man put his hands on her at a bar, he ain’t seen nothin’ back then. If they were in a cartoon, smoke would have billowed from her nose and ears as she shoved him behind her.

 “He got in the way, that’s his fault!”

 “He has nothing to do with your cheating husband preying on and manipulating a refugee who barely spoke English into thinking he cared about her and would take care of her. Your shitty husband is the one you should be beating up right now!” Franny hissed, her grip on the chair tightening.

 “Shut up, [slur I won’t type]!”

 It was dead silent. Not one of the four of them moved. Cornelius could have sworn he heard a heartbeat that’s how quiet it was.

 Franny was the first to break the silence.

 “I’ll count to three. If you aren’t out of my mother’s restaurant when I get to three, what happens next is your fault.” 

 Mrs. Boyd scoffed. “Like I’m afraid of some gold-digging musical theatre major.”

 “One.”

 “You aren’t really going to hit me with a chair, are--”

 “Two.”

 “I’ll have you arrest--”

 “Three. GAH!” Franny only had to fake her out for her to run out the door shrieking. The chair was already back on the ground before the door had even shut. “I’ll lock the door. Mak, can we put a dish towel on his face?”

 ---

“Franny ow,” Cornelius protested as, back at her parents’ house, Franny landed a light-but-strategically-painful punch on Cornelius' arm. “Why are you mad?”

 “Because you got hurt!” She snapped, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes watering. “Why would you do that?”

 “I didn’t want her to hurt you or Sophie…”

 Franny whined. “Baby, you name your robots. You can’t take or throw punches. I’m the badass in this marriage, you’re the sweet, gentle one. I hate that you got hurt because my sperm donor’s wife would rather blame a poor lady and her daughter instead of her shitty husband.” “Honey, she slammed your head into the wall.”

 “And?” Franny knocked on her skull. “Sounds hollow to me. I don’t think there’s any brain cells left there to kill.”

 Cornelius gave a huff of a laugh through his nose, reaching for Franny’s hand to play with her fingers. He didn’t say anything, just held her hand and waited for her.

 “I’m sorry you had to see my family’s dirty laundry. Not like you didn’t already know, but.” Franny said, staring down at their hands. “I thought his wife knew. The worst part is, I can understand her. I’d hate my mom and I too if you-- not that you would -- I don’t think you’d-- I just mean--”

 “I know.” Cornelius said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

 Sophie glided into the living room, her hair kit in hand, and gestured for Franny to sit up straight. Franny opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t feel like getting her hair messed with right now, but snapped her jaw shut as quick as she’d opened it. Just let Mak do her little ritual, it wouldn’t hurt no one.

 “I’m sorry this happened, Mak. I should’ve been quicker to fight for you.” Franny said, looking down at her hand in Cornelius’.

 Sophie tsk tsked and tugged the hairbrush a little hard, Franny swore it was on purpose. “It was overdue karma, my love. I slept with a married man whether I knew it or not at the time. Not knowing doesn’t make it any less wrong.”

 “It does too! He was the one married and lying to you! And the one tried to force you into an abortion when that wasn’t the right choice for you. How are you near as responsible as him?” Franny argued.

 “Humans see grey areas. Not everything in the universe does, dear.  Besides, I won anyway. Even after today.”

 “How? All three of us look like the school bully took our lunch money. I mean, look at him! He and Lucille have a press thing after we get back to New York, he’s gonna look like I shanked him during a domestic!” Franny looked over at Cornelius and pouted at his bandage.

 “I’ll tell the press I fought valiantly, honey. You were a worthy opponent.” Cornelius teased. Franny hissed, exactly like her cat, then immediately kissed his temple.

 “I win in the end because I get to have you as my daughter.” Sophie explained, starting on the actual braid. “I don’t regret any part about my path crossing with Peter Boyd’s because I had to go through it to get you.”

 Franny was silent a long moment, her eyes watered in lieu of her finding her words. She only squeezed Cornelius’ hand tighter, and when she had words again only managed so squeak out, “Maaaaaak, you can’t say things that nice while you’re doing my hair. It’ll be all lopsided if I move to hug you.”

 “That’s why I said it when I did.”

Thirty-five years old…

 Franny was coming to understand that she would never truly be able to understand everything about her mother’s life in Cambodia. The more she knew, the more she didn’t know.

 Franny sat behind her mother, brushing out her hair, as the recording device captured their conversation. At the moment, all it was capturing was Franny’s stunned silence as she sat there, mouth agape, hairbrush frozen mid-brush in her mother’s salt and pepper hair.

 What do you say to your mother recounting in gruesome detail her father’s death?

 She spoke like all she was recalling was the serial killer’s M.O. in the last Criminal Minds, her tone calm, detached, there was even a nervous laugh in there.

 “Mak…” Franny whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 “The book was my idea, Darareaksmey. I want you to help me talk about what happened to my country and our family before I’m an old woman and can’t remember things. The world deserves to know what it let happen.”

 “It can’t be easy for you. How do you just...live after that?”

 “It isn’t easy. Keep brushing.” Sophie waited until Franny’s hands were once again busy with her hair to continue. “A lot of people don’t, I imagine. Surviving must eat some people alive. It got to me, at first.”

 Franny set the brush down and started on the braiding. “Did it?”

 “Why was my escape successful but the woman who suggested the method I used get caught when she tried it, why was I able to survive the student purge but my friends weren’t, why did the cut on my foot eventually heal but my sister’s infection kill her, and do I even deserve to be alive...things like that, I thought about those things every day in the refugee camp. Once I was able to actually think about anything but being hungry, anyway.” Sophie explained. 

 While Franny braided her mother’s hair it occurred to her that this was the most honest that her mother had been with her about her feelings (re: living through the Khmer Rouge) in all of her thirty-five years on the planet. Regarding the straight facts, Sophea Sor Framagucci was a straightforward woman. She would tell you in detail how any and every traumatic event went down but never once had she talked about how she felt or what it all did to her.

 Though, she couldn’t imagine detailing every single trauma in her life and how it affected her for Wilbur either.

 Perhaps it felt strange to Franny because her mother’s trauma was a major historical event that numerous books, movies, documentaries, and articles talked about. She knew so much about the event itself but the raw, human, emotional aspect of it was all new.

 “It’s funny because deciding not to live was never an option for me. Even before I had you. I just kept thinking about how I didn’t want to let the people who did this to me win, and I can only do that by living. So I existed. For a long time, it was just existing. I learned to be alive again. Especially once you started talking and having a personality that wasn’t just ‘Being A Baby. That’s when being a mother goes from being just a responsibility to a responsibility that makes you smile and laugh.”

 “Mm, it’s a good thing you told me that part at thirty-five and not fourteen. As a mother, I understand what you mean. As a teenager that would have killed my self-esteem.”

 “Impossible, your ego was much too big at that age. It almost could’ve used a beating.”

 “Don’t you know that was the classic pretend you’re better than God because you actually feel like trash act?” Franny said, tying the hair tie around the braid.

 “Can’t say I’m familiar. It’s never been an act for me.”

 “Mak!” Franny laughed, playfully nudging her mother. “No wonder I have a god complex on Tuesdays.” A beat. “We can stop. If you need to.”

 “I’ll tell you when I need a break, my love. I’m okay.”

[mangobilorian]

hide ‘n seek | (gen)

Pairing: Toddler! Ahsoka & Plo Koon

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2952 

Summary: “No more questions! Wanna play with Mastha Plo.” She beat tiny fists into his chest. When he had first found her, she had been too shy to even speak. It took her a while to even hold his hand. But now she was pounding her little fists in indignation at a High Council member.

Or: Plo talks to Ahsoka about boundaries, and Mace wonders about the danger level of toddler Togrutas.

As soon as Plo Koon leaves the High Council chamber, he sees a group of younglings anxiously standing. He pays them no mind. After all, they were probably waiting for a glimpse of their favorite Council member. Maybe it’s part of a lesson about the High Council even though there is no teacher present. Whatever the reason is, he does not expect the younglings to ignore Mace or Agen or even Yoda. No, they zeroed in on him .

“M-master Plo?” A young Twi'lek asks, staring up at him. The Nautolan next to her nudges her aside.

“Sorry to disturb you, Master Plo, but we need your help.” The group of five children fidget under his gaze.

“Is that so? Tell me, younglings, why do you need my help?” At this point, the other Council members had stopped, eyeing the spectacle. Mace raised his eyebrow at Plo before heading off to either intimidate Knights or drink tea. Shaak had smiled at the children, but they didn’t even look at her.

“One of our crèche mates keeps asking for you.” The boy says.

“And she cries all the time and won’t stop.” The Twi'lek butts in.

“We tell her she can play with us, but she doesn’t wanna,” a Human girl says. Plo can tell that they have sincere sympathy for their crèche mate, but they’re also on the breaking point of exhaustion, which is understandable. Not being able to console a friend is stressful enough. Having to live with said inconsolable friend is another matter. Plo already has an idea of who the crying girl is…

“Who is this girl, younglings?” The children glance at each other and peer up at him.

“Ahsoka Tano,” they say in unison. Ah. The small Togruta girl Plo had brought to the temple two months prior. She is the youngest in her crèche—her speaking abilities weren’t as mature as everyone else’s yet—and Plo had wondered if she was settling in. It seems like he got his answer.

“Where is she now?”

“The Room of a Thousand Fountains,” the Nautolan says. “We said that you would meet her there.” The Wookie next to him growls in confirmation.

“Will you be able to help her, Master Plo? We just wanna play with Ahsoka without her crying for you….” The children look up at him, hope shining in their eyes. Or was it sleeplessness?

“I will try my best, little ones.” Plo tries to convey a smile, but the anti-ox mask (and his lack of lips) prevents him. Plo is used to kids shying away from him. After all, he was tall, masked, and taloned. Yet, out of concern for their friend, the children sought him out. Plo reaches out to the Force and- yes, there it is. Nervousness and worry but no fear from the younglings. “Hurry along now. Don’t cause any trouble.” He means it half-heartedly. Plo always enjoys it when the little ones start something chaotic. It’s a welcome break from his job on the High Council.

He’s met with a chorus of “Yes, Master Plo,” and the children scurry off. Plo sighs as he watches them and starts the trek to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Despite it being the first time a group of younglings waited for him outside the Council chamber, it wasn’t the first time a youngling did. He chuckles at a memory from a few weeks ago.

Plo had exited the chamber alongside his friends and fellow members. He was brought into a discussion about Wookie architecture—a topic that didn’t particularly interest him, but he wanted to show respect for Master Tyvokka even though it had been years since his death—when something small collided with his legs.

Startled, he looked down to see the tops of white and blue montrals. Shaak, who stood beside him, crouched down to her fellow Togruta’s eye level.

“What are you doing here, child? Shouldn’t you be in your lessons?” The young girl looked at the older Togruta then buried her head further into Plo’s legs. She mumbled something that sounded like his name.

“Master Ti, Master Koon.” The two Council members turned to see a Temple Guard. They gestured at the little girl. “We told her to wait and return to the crѐche, but she started crying for Master Koon.” Shaak stood up.

“Well, Plo, since you’re the one she wants, I’ll be leaving.” She gently rubbed the girl’s shoulder and nodded at Plo before departing.

“Thank you, guards. But I don’t think we’ll be needing your help for now.” The Kel Dor reached down to the little girl and hoisted her in his arms. “Why are you here, Ahsoka?” She averted her eyes, content to play with the folds of his robes. The girl didn’t respond, but Plo was patient. He walked down the hallways, taking the long route to the crѐche.

“Wanna to see you,” Ahsoka mumbled.

“And why, Little ‘Soka, did you want to see me?” She scrunched her face in frustration.

“Missed you.” She kept playing with his robes.

“Why did you-”

“No more questions! Wanna play with Mastha Plo.” She beat tiny fists into his chest. When he had first found her, she had been too shy to even speak. It took her a while to even hold his hand. But now she was pounding her little fists in indignation at a High Council member. Plo sighed with mirth.

“What would you like to play, child?” She bit her lip for a second then her eyes lit up with an idea.

“Tag!” She wigged out of his grasp and ran in the opposite direction of the crèche. Oh Force. Ahsoka giggled down the hallway, and spared one glance behind her to see Plo still standing. She stopped then proceeded to stomp her feet with all the anger of a miffed toddler. So Plo did the only thing he could do. He chased after her.

He had the memory catalogued in both Cutest Ahsoka Moments and Devilish Ahsoka Moments . However, his arrival at the Room of a Thousand Fountains forces him to leave the memory. As he wanders deeper into the room, he reaches out for Ahsoka’s force signature. There, shining like an excitable bubble of energy, sits his Little ‘Soka. Plo follows the beacon, letting the Force flow through him.

Just as he’s about to speak, the Togruta spots him and jumps from her seat on a bench.

“Mastha Plo! They were right,” she grins, showing all her teeth. It reminds Plo of a baby shark—not because Ahsoka looks like one. Rather, she is equally predatory.

“Yes, your crèche mates said you were here. I need to talk to you about something important, Ahsoka.” She peers up at him, and Plo has enough strength to resist swooning.

“Was I bad? I’m sorry, Mastha Plo,” she bows her head in genuine sadness, and Plo’s heart squeezes at the display.

“No, you did nothing wrong, child. But we do need to talk about boundaries.” He sits next to her, and Ahsoka seizes the opportunity to settle into his lap. Such an opportunistic little toddler. Maybe this memory would be filed under Ahsoka Not Respecting Personal Space .

“What are boun-dar-ees?” She asks, spelling out each syllable in the hopes to impress him.

“They’re like limits. Rules.” Ahsoka scowls.

“I don’t like rules,” she huffs. Plo laughs, stroking one of her lekkus. The girl purrs, and Plo stores that tidbit of information in a separate folder containing interesting facts about his little foundling.

“I know, Ahsoka. But there are some you need to follow.” She tries to retort, but Plo places a taloned finger on her lip. “If ‘Mastha Plo’ tells you to follow the rules, would you do it?” She nods eagerly. Plo has the feeling that Ahsoka would do anything for the Kel Dor, and the thought is troubling. If she grows too attached to him, that defeats the whole purpose of taking her away from her family in the first place. “Tell me, Little ‘Soka, do you play with your crèche mates?” The question seems to bother her because she curls tighter into his chest.

“No….”

“Why is that?”

“Because I wanna play with you.” Hmm… the girl is already too attached.

“Ahsoka, you need to play with your friends rather than seek me out.”

“Why?” She’s genuinely confused, and Plo considers how he’ll break the rules down for her.

“Because they’re your family now.” Her eyes shoot up to his goggles.

“Family? But you’re family.” He continues to stroke her lek soothingly.

“That’s right. You play with me because I’m family. So you should play with your friends because they’re family too. The Temple is one big family, Little ‘Soka.” She lights up in realization.

“So I can play with Mastha Ti and Mastha Yoda and Mastha Windu?” Plo has to stop himself from choking. He can easily see you with Shaak, and Yoda teaches all the younglings, so you’d be comfortable around him. But the visual of his little Togruta climbing the robes of esteemed champion Mace Windu is… both horrifying and hysterical. Maybe one day, if Plo is in the mood for mischief, he’d unleash the adorable terror that is Ahsoka Tano on the purple-lightsaber-wielding Master.

“You’d have to ask them first if they want to play. And,” he thinks back to previous encounters, “you can’t skip your lessons to see me. If you miss out on learning, I would be sad which means-”

“No playtime,” she finishes off, frowning.

“Yes, no playtime. So, little one, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Ahsoka shakes her head.

“No class. Now is Mastha Plo time.” The Kel Dor sighs. He could indulge the Togruta in this one instance—as if he hasn’t given in to her charms a million times before—and engage in a game.

“Well then, how does hide and seek sound?” Plo is met with Ahsoka’s blank face. He starts explaining the concept of the game, and the girl catches on quickly. At the end of his explanation, she’s already out of his arms and bouncing on her feet.

“Why don’t you hide first, Little ‘Soka, and I’ll find you?” She nods and dashes away before he can start counting. He places his hands over his goggles—no one could tell when he closes his eyes, but the girl would surely say he’s cheating unless he covered them.

Plo counts to twenty before uncovering his eyes and looks around. All he can see are the fountains and greenery. No sign of his troublesome youngling. He debates using the Force to find her quickly—there are important duties to finish—but he wants to find her on his own. And because the little girl is a Togruta, she’d sense Plo before he could sense her. Plo has to be fast and, more importantly, smart.

He peeks behind a bush then a bench then a fountain. Yet there is no Ahsoka. He sighs loudly—loud enough for other Jedi in the room to look over at the Kel Dor Master. Plo places his hands on his hips.

“I wonder where my Little ‘Soka is. She is very good at hiding.” He exaggerates a hum, placing a finger on the bottom of his mask where his chin would be if he had one. Plo doesn’t lose hope and continues his search for the elusive hunter. Of course, her little giggles absolutely did not give away her proximity to him.

The Kel Dor peeks under a bench, twisting his body to get a good look. With no sign of Ahsoka, he is inclined to give up. Then, out of nowhere, someone launches themselves on his back. Tumbling forward, both Kel Dor and Togruta fall to the floor in laughter.

Jocasta Nu, visiting the Room for a meditation break, shushes Plo with a finger. “Please be quiet and respect the ones meditating, Master Koon.” Plo rolls over so Ahsoka sits on his belly. The Jedi Master raises a hand in acknowledgement.

“We will try our best, Master Nu,” he says before picking Ahsoka up and plopping her down on the bench next to him.

“You’re very good at hiding, Little ‘Soka.” She giggles and pokes his cheek.

“Now is Mastha Plo’s turn to hide!”

“I don’t think-” Plo starts, but the girl is already pushing at his chest.

“Go, go!” She insists.

“Fine. But stay quiet, alright? There are people meditating.” Ahsoka nods, but Plo can tell she does it to hurry the game not out of respect for the other Jedi. Plo stands up and takes the girl’s hands in his much larger ones. “Close your eyes and don’t cheat. No Force powers either.” Ahsoka pouts but obliges him.

Sparing one more glance at the girl, Plo walks away to find a suitable hiding spot. As a tall Kel Dor, there isn’t much in the room that could hide him. Maybe the plants? His orange skin would stick out though. Plo eyes a large plant and considers hiding behind it. But it seems like twenty seconds are up because he hears little hums.

“Going to find Mastha Plo,” Ahsoka sings from far away. She keeps repeating the saying in a jaunty tune. Plo settles down behind the plant, making sure to have part of his face exposed. Just as he moves around to adjust in his seated position, Ahsoka enters his periphery. Her montrals must have registered his movement.

He watches the girl scrutinize her surroundings, ducking below benches and around fountains. It’s cute. Too cute. She even assumes a hunting stance, arms outstretched, head darting back and forth. Her eyes pass over his hiding spot, and Plo holds his breath, but she seems to have missed him. Or so he thinks.

The next moment, Ahsoka leaps at him through the bush. A repeat of their previous entangling occurs, and Ahsoka sits on his stomach once again.

“Found you!” She whispers at a volume too loud for whispering.

“Yes you did. I am very proud of you.” Ahsoka beams down at him, raising her arms in a stretch.

“One more… one more round?” She yawns, eyes already closing.

“How about you take a nap instead?” Ahsoka gives a tiny nod and lays across his whole torso. She closes her eyes and snuggles deeper into his robes.

Plo knows he should get up before she truly sleeps. He has responsibilities, and increased interaction with Ahsoka will only worsen her attachment to him. Favoring his presence over other council members is one thing, but crying out for him, skipping lessons, or even foregoing playtime with her friends is another matter entirely. But the little Togruta doesn’t give up. Even if he does try to sever her attachment, it would only end in her mistrust of the Jedi. She would also cry a lot more, and Plo wants to spare the ears of everyone in the crѐche.

He settles for rubbing gentle circles on her back with one hand and stroking her lekku with another. Plo is careful to not scratch her with his nails—he keeps them sharp for a reason. After a few minutes, he hears little snores. Plo basks in the moment and organizes it under Ahsoka’s Sleepy Times .

The room is warm and pleasant, and Plo starts to succumb to the dreamy energy as well. It’s a far cry from his own chambers (the lack of oxygen there is a big difference), but the calm atmosphere is just enough to push him to sleep. Until the Force presence of Mace Windu wanders into the room and heads straight for him.

“Mace.”

“Plo.” The man stares at Plo and the little girl on his chest. “This is why you haven’t submitted the reports of your last mission?” Plo throws a hand out in mock defeat.

“Would you be able to resist an adorable youngling?”

Mace scowls. “Yes. I definitely could. Now get your Kel Dor ass up and finish those reports.”

“Don’t make me release Ahsoka on you.”

“Me? What could she do to me ?” Mace scoffs, slightly offended at the idea of the youngling being ‘released’ on him.

“She said she would love to play with ‘Mastha Windu’ because you’re her family.”

“Now who told her that?”

“Me.” Plo says with as much cheekiness as he can. Mace sighs.

“Fine. You can submit your reports later. But please return the youngling to the crѐche or else they’ll send temple guards to look for her.” The image of the masked guards running around in search of a troublesome Togruta makes Plo laugh.

“I will return her now, Mace. And I’ll get those reports done.” Mace raises an eyebrow. “Later.” Plo wraps an arm around the girl and uses the other to stand up. Together, Plo and Mace exit the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Plo dutifully carries the sleeping Ahsoka in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Younglings, Knights, and Masters alike gawk at the sight in the hallways. The great Kel Dor Jedi Master with a sleeping toddler Togruta. Who would have thought?

He eventually reaches the crѐche, and places Ahsoka in her bed. The Twi'lek from before watches him and mouths a silent “Thank you.” As Plo releases her, Ahsoka starts to mumble something. It sounds a lot like his name and the word ‘family’.

The time to end the girl’s attachment to Plo will come eventually. But that time is not today. Plo needs to consider his growing paternal feelings for the little girl as well.

“Sleep tight, Little ‘Soka,” he says. Plo exits the crѐche with Mace at his side, but not before sparing one last glance at his foundling.

[this-is-my-canon]

My @kakaobiweek prompt for today, Crossover

Stowaway

Read it on Ao3 here

Obito missed the hum of the engines at times like these. He missed feeling the excitement of Akatsuki taking off into space, sending him and his crew across the galaxy on whatever job the universe landed on ‘em. These here stops at port were near intolerable for a ship’s captain. But unfortunately, they were the jobs that paid - and as much as he disapproved of his high class cousin’s profession, Itachi was a reliable and steady source of income for the crew.

While stuck picking up his noble companion of a cousin, it didn’t hurt to wrangle a few more fares. People were always lookin’ to pay their way to someplace. It was an easier way to make money than heistin’. Even Konan couldn’t argue against the benefit of it.

By the time he was finally able to launch them back into space, sending Yahiko to the controls and Kakuzu and Hidan to survey the back of the ship for any signs of chase, Obito was tired. In his exhaustion and stress, he hadn’t paid much mind to Itachi’s shuttle’s return to the ship, or what comp’ny he may have brought on board his Akatsuki. It wasn’t until he was standing at the helm, recoverin’ from a deep sleep with a hot cup of coffee cradled in his hands, that Konan pointed out a terrible fact which should’ve been brought to his attention from the beginning.

[[MORE]]

“Itachi...what now?” he asked, massaging his brow as he tried to process it.

“BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO,” Konan murmured, shooting him a sideways glare. “Did you honestly not see him come aboard with a man on his arm, Sir?”

Obito shook his head. “I was too busy watchin’ Deidara makin’ googly eyes over the doll-like doctor he brought aboard.” He groaned and ran his hand down his face before setting his cooling porcelain aside. “I need t’see Itachi.”

Yahiko snorted and muttered something under his breath, but wise-like, he kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes fixed on the starry constellations out in front of ‘im.

“Good luck, Sir,” Konan said coolly.

On his way out through the porthole, Obito scowled at the back of the blue head of hair on his best fighter and oldest friend on this ship. After meandering his way through the twisted corridors of rusted pipes and steaming piles of junk that made up the ship that was his pride an’ joy, he still had the same scowl when he busted through the door to Itachi’s shuttle.

“Obito,” Itachi said coolly as Obito scanned his gaze across scarlet pillows and black velvet curtains in search of his cousin. “Glad to see you haven’t forgotten our discussion about how to knock.”

“I’ll remember your discussion,” Obito said to the pale and stoic face appearing from behind a parting silk curtain, “when you ‘member my rules about bringin’ strangers on my Akatsuki.”

“Technically,” Itachi drawled, shooting a pointed glance over a pale, exposed shoulder, “he’s not on your Akatsuki, he’s on my shuttle.”

“And technically,” echoed a second voice muffled behind the curtains before there was a shuffle. The curtains parted again to reveal silver hair and a jagged scar on a face that was all too familiar, “he’s not a stranger, either.”

“Kakashi,” Obito hissed his name like a curse.

“Oh,” Itachi hummed, shooting Kakashi a wink. “You two know each other?”

“You know goram well we do,” Obito growled.

He pushed his way past his refined whore of a cousin to the piece of shit so-called friend who dared to take him up on his services. Kakashi was slightly taller, forcing Obito t’look up his nose at the stunning, half-lidded eyes and red bandana covering the contours of fine lips and chiseled jawline Obito already knew to be hidden beneath it.

He shoved his finger into Kakashi’s chest, finding it just as firm as he remembered it to be. “What’s the big idea, hitchin’ a ride on my ship?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Companionship.”

“You don’t want Itachi’s companionship.”

“How can you know that?”

“You don’t.” Obito huffed, waving his hand in broad, lazy gestures at his refined, polite, and not-at-all-Kakashi’s-type cousin. “He’s doing this as some sort of twisted favor to you, though I dunno what either of you stand t’gain from this.”

Itachi and Kakashi exchanged a glance, and if Obito didn’t know any better, an entire conversation just happened in front of ‘im without his knowin’ about it.

“Okay.” Obito remembered t’breathe. “What is goin’ on here?”

Itachi reached forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, but Obito didn’t dare meet his eye. Itachi could kill a man with his look. Obito had seen it before.

“Obito,” Itachi said soothing-like. “Cousin. I like to give my clients full discretion. Whatever arrangement Kakashi and I have, it is no business of yours.”

Obito saw red, feeling the blister of his rage boil to the surface. “Kakashi! Get off my ship.”

Kakashi glanced sideways at the shuttle’s hatch, which would lead him outside to the vacuum of space. “Sure,” he deadpanned. “Of course I can do that.”

“At the next stop,” Obito said, wagging his finger. “Soon as we’re planet-side, you’re off.”

Obito turned with a flourish, leaving Itachi grumbling and Kakashi sighing in his wake. He stormed through the corridors of his ship on his return to the bridge, determined to drive any thoughts or questions he might still have about Kakashi Hatake out of his mind. He didn’t need to know what all that business was about. He only needed his ex off the Akatsuki as soon as possible.

-

As soon as possible wasn’t soon at all, as it turned out.

Konan explained it all in her usual condescending tone, but none of it made no sense. Yahiko couldn’t pull into port at the next planet because the doc who’d just joined their little crew was apparently wanted there. Yahiko couldn’t turn them back to Konoha, where’s they’d just picked up Itachi and Obito’s latest inconvenience, because some thieves over there’d been trynna take their fuel. After the Sand they were so inconveniently passing, twasn’t nothin’ for light years.

This was Shiong mao niao.

“So Kakashi,” Deidara said, swinging his long blonde hair across the dinner table, “how did you and the captain meet?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other since we were-“

“I won’t be havin’ no interrogations at the dinner table on my ship,” Obito interrupted gruffly.

“Damn,” Deidara sulked, sinking into his chair, “I was just bein’ conversation-like, un. What about you, Sasori?” He shot a smile at the red-haired doctor across the table. “I could use some lookin-over. Been a long time since the Akatsuki’s had a bonafide doctor on board.”

Sasori frowned. “I don’t believe my passage requires that I work for this crew.”

“Everyone works on my ship, doc,” Obito said around a mouthful of food.

“But you could,” Deidara pressed, his one visible eye lighting with hope, “couldn’t you, doc? As a favor to me?”

“Jen mei NAI-shing duh FWO-tzoo,” Hidan grumbled, pounding his fist into the table. “Just tell the guy you want his ass, Dei, and let the rest of us enjoy our dinner.”

“Hidan,” Kakuzu hissed.

Hidan flinched, baring his teeth in a wince, while Obito rolled his eyes. His crew was his family. They were lucky they were, because otherwise he never would’ve tolerated this level of aggravation.

“Keep your thoughts locked up tight in that hollow head o’yours,” Obito told Hidan before pointing his fork at Kakashi, who was opening his mouth when he shouldn’t. “And you! Keep trynna flap your lips and I’ll have you strapped down in the infirmary ‘til we get you off this ship.”

Kakashi met Obito’s gaze with a twinkle of mirth shining in his grey eyes. Obito realized the implications of what he’d said, which made him recall their times together in a way that was very inconvenient when he was makin’ a point to push Kakashi away and instill his hatred of the bastard on the rest of his crew. Obito knew Kakashi was thinkin’ all kinds of smug retorts. Maybe he was here to undermine Obito’s authority in front of his crew. Maybe he wanted to pay Obito back for some unkindness he’d never had a chance to repay after the war. He couldn’t be here for any other reason, so the suggestiveness of Obito’s words meant nothin’.

“Yes, Sir,” Kakashi said.

Obito narrowed his eyes, first at Kakashi and then at his snickerin’ crewmates. Konan at least had the self-control to rein it in after one curt eruption of laughter, and Yahiko had the decency to cover his mouth, but the others blatantly exchanged glances and disrespected Obito on his own damn ship. This was the kind of trouble Kakashi brought with ‘im.

Obito curled his fingers around the edge of the table until it hurt. “Kakashi. Can I speak with you a minute?”

Kakashi raised his brows. “I don’t know. You asked me not to talk, Capt-“

“To them,” Obito growled, waving a hand across their company. He shoved off the table, kicking his chair out as he stood. “This way. Now.”

He walked out with his fists curled by his sides, ready at any moment to pound them into Kakashi’s stupid face if he said one more thing to demean him in front of his crew. Fortunately, he didn’t hear another word from Kakashi, only the sound of his footsteps trailing after. By the time he found the infirmary, where he could question Kakashi in peace and also where he was seriously considering following through on that threat to incapacitate him if it came to it, he wondered at Kakashi’s agreeableness. When he turned to face Kakashi and saw him sealing the infirmary door behind them, Obito realized with a groan he was givin’ Kakashi exactly what he wanted with this.

“I didn’t know any other way of talkin’ to ya,” Kakashi said.

“Ever heard of sendin’ letters?”

“Obito. It’s Rin.” Obito’s blood ran cold, all thoughts of arguing with Kakashi draining away with the devastating mention of her name. “I found her. I need Akatsuki’s help to get ‘er out, though.”

Obito shook his head. “You’re not makin’ any sense.”

“We thought she died - in the war. Obito.” Kakashi paused, lookin’ like he was havin’ as hard a time sayin’ it as Obito was with hearin’ it. “She’s alive. She’s been held prisoner in Tsukuyomi. We can get her out - if we work together.”

“Work together? With you?” Obito snorted, but feelings rolled in at just imaginin’ his chance to right the greatest wrong he’d ever witnessed in this universe. He gulped. “Are you sure we can save her?”

Kakashi hummed. “It all depends on your cooperation. I’ve got everythin’ all planned out.”

Obito bit his bottom lip. “Good. ‘Cause I can’t take no false promises, not about this.”

Kakashi shook his head. “Nothin’ false here. I promise.”

Obito choked back a sob, refusin’ to let himself cry in front of the man who’d always jumped on the chance to call him a crybaby. It would be strange, workin’ with Kakashi again. There were feelings, feelings he thought he’d gotten over, but could already feel bubblin’ to the goram surface again. He didn’t want to open himself up to it, but for Rin, he would.

He had to.

Kakashi reached forward, and for an instant, held his hand just short of Obito’s. Obito didn’t move. He wouldn’t close the gap, but if Kakashi did, he wouldn’t pull away either. He didn’t know what he wanted in regards to Kakashi. Rin was easy. Rin was safe. Kakashi, with all his eccentricities, would always be a puzzle to Obito. He hated him. He needed him.

If he ain’t had no better sense, he’d have to admit he still loved him.

“Trust me, Obito?” Kakashi asked as he withdrew his hand to his side.

Obito smiled. “I’m ‘fraid I ain’t grown out of that flaw.”

Kakashi smiled back. “I’ve been holdin’ onto a few m’self.”

“Bastard,” Obito scoffed.

“Deadlast,” Kakashi said fondly.

They would find Rin, and they would save their comrade. Might even rekindle somethin’ Obito wasn’t quite ready for. But then, there was never any bein’ ready when it came to Kakashi.