#but they are united in this debacle together

[murcielagatito]

wilhelmina ur gay is showing

[antidotefortheawkward-art]

Thinking about that Zhihu AU where Tang Seng's disciples were Erlang Shen, Sun Wukong, and Bull Demon King instead.....

[ID: 1. An illustration of Erlang Shen, Sun Wukong, and Bull Demon King from the waist-up. Erlang Shen is wearing a weimao and a purple yuanlingpao archer-style with the left lapel flipped out. His two inner robe layers are checkered blue and purple-ish off-white. He has a snow leopard pelt at his waist. Sun Wukong is in his typical pilgrimage outfit, chewing on a piece of willow with his arms crossed. Bull Demon King has his arm around SWK's shoulder, leaning against him. He has a leopard pelt across his chest and a dark red scarf around his shoulders, with a red banbi and off-white inner robe. His other hand is on his mixed-iron rod, which is placed on his shoulder. 2. A translated screenshot from the aforementioned Zhihu thread. It reads "西天路走的太顺利畅，我反而无聊 This path to the Western Heaven is too smooth. I'm actually bored." End ID]

[theirondragonrants]

Here's the thing, and bear with me:

Rhaenyra wanted, nay, needed a reason to unleash hell on the Greens. It's not enough that they stole her birthright, Rhaenyra is no stranger to the selfishness of people (like Viserys said to her and she spat at him during the marriage debacle, the vultures circle to pick at the carcass), but it's that Alicent who saw that she would make a fine Queen turned around and betrayed her. With the hand of friendship and trust she took a knife and stabbed her in the back. She also needed to know, she's grown knowing the throne will be hers and safe in the knowledge that her father, who was wise and made sure the realm prospered and stay united so they could defeat the forces of the Other, trusted HER to safeguard the Seven Kingdoms. And it's all fallen apart. Alicent, who believed in her once, stole her throne, and Rhaenyra needs to know why. Because she has to have KNOWN that there is a bigger reason why Viserys never wavered and betrayed him and Rhaenyra both regardless.

And she says the Prince that was Promised, and Rhaenyra breaks it to her that Viserys meant Aegon the Conqueror. I'm sure in this moment, Alicent probably remembered the countless times Viserys called her Aemma in his delirium, the confusion of a dying man. And now all the cards are on the table and this is bigger than a throne and petty squabbles and a name writ on the pages of history. This is about Survival, this is about the Song of Ice and Fire and a task given to the Targaryen Kings and Queens by the Conqueror, and now that Alicent has some of the information she can do the right thing. Rhaenyra thinks rationality and good sense will win the day. And it doesn't. But that is out of Rhaenyra's hands. And we see her realize. If Alicent won't pull back the tide of war, then Rhaenyra has no choice. She's officially given Alicent the tools to realize that for the sake of everyone, Aegon needs to step down if they are to be ready for a fight against the others.

But Alicent knows it's too far gone. The war is out of her hands, if it was ever even in her hands to begin with. She lost control over the boys the moment they were born, she lost them when she filled their heads with the hatred for Rhaenyra and now she can't stop them, even if she knows what's at stake (or has an inkling), even if she understands that she was played a fool by her ignorance. It's too late. And that's why she says there has been no mistake. The guilt will drive her crazy if she doesn't convince herself that she did the right thing. It can't be.

Rhaenyra now has confirmation that her father never wavered, that he trusted her to hold the realm together, and now there are no qualms. The greens are no longer the bearers of a petty family fued, they don't know what they have, Aegon doesn't understand what it means to be King, it's not about being loved or having power, it's about being the bearer of a terrible prophecy and ensuring every move made is made to prepare the realm for a fight against the end. And it's in EVERY scene Aegon is in, failing to be a good King. It's not just that he doesn't know how to do the job. When he's in the small council chamber he's playing with the dagger that has the prophecy written in it, and he's using it to intimidate and order preparations for a war he takes as a game. He quite literally holds the fate, the legacy, the sworn duty of the Targaryens in his hands, and he shows no respect for it, uses it incorrectly, and cares little for what it means. He carries the dagger of the Conqueror without understanding the weight. He's unfit because he doesn't have the information and because he never will. The only one who knows the truth is the person to whom that dagger belongs, the then heir and now rightful Queen—she is the bearer of the legacy of duty, not him. He might have the conquerors name, and his sword, and his armor, and his throne, and his city, and his crown, but Rhaenyra has the knowledge passed down from King to heir, and THAT is what makes her the rightful ruler. It's what finally seals the war. If Alicent won't have Aegon step aside and let her do what she, and her father, and her great grandfather, and those who came before them have to do, then she's going to make them.

There is no other choice anymore. A war amongst kin is despicable, but it's worst to know that there is something more terrible out there that all the people you are responsible for will be woefully unprepared to fight if you don't do what you must.

The greens are not kin now. They are the enemy of humanity. Rhaenyra has to do what needs to be done.

AND THIS IS WHY, TO MAKE A LONG STORY SHORT, THAT CONVERSATION NEEDED TO HAPPEN. It's not for Alicent. It's not for an apology, it's not even for the remote possibility of peace (Rhaenyra believed too strongly that if Alicent knew everything then she'd see reason, but that was grasping at straws). It NEEDED to happen because Rhaenyra needed to be reassured, Mind and Heart, that whatever she has to do she's doing it for the good of the realm.

She's listened to Rhaenys. She's tried every possible way. She's gone above and beyond, not retaliating for her son's murder, not setting her dragons loose, holding back a tide. She's tried again and again, and she can say now, with conviction, that she's doing this for the realm and not for herself. This isn't about Aemond's eye leading to Lucerys' death leading to Jahaerys' murder that all stemmed from a betrayal and the ambitions of men. This is about the Song of Ice and Fire, and if Rhaenyra wants to save the realm, there is nothing else but to let the tide wash away the greens.

She's not raining fire on the Greens for her ego. She's doing it for Westeros. And that is all the justification she's ever going to need.

AND like... Rhaenyra is BASICALLY offering Alicent an armistice. Have Aegon step down, impress upon him the seriousness of the mistake that has occurred. Rhaenyra isn't being vengeful. Even at this moment, she doesn't have to promise Alicent that they will be safe. It's implied. Just do the right thing, and it can all be as it was. Or even better than it was. It's a further nail in the coffin of Alicent's mistake. If Alicent doesn't convince herself that no mistake was made, then she's going to lose her mind. Rhaenyra is in front of her, giving her a solution to everything. In a perfect world, she would take it. She's showing her that Otto was wrong and Rhaenyra will not put her children to the sword when she ascends the throne, even after everything that has happened. Admit your mistake and be welcomed into my family once again. But she can't. The die was cast long ago, and it's too late now.

[bythepen98]

Zutara ❤

This was honestly supposed to be a quick one but I got too invested bc this is my first fa of this ship :')

Context:

Consider this an au where Aang never had a crush on Katara and the tension instead revolved around her and Zuko throughout the series. A spark at first sight so to speak. Fate would step in several times where they'd somehow end up separating from their groups and find each other in the same vicinity. They're both temperamental, so they'd naturally start fighting and exchanging barbs but would always hold back from truly hurting each other. There was disdain but also slight curiosity there. However, it would mostly go ignored, spitefully so in Katara's end after the catacombs debacle, until Zuko realises that he messed up and goes back to fix things.

Note: He never paired back up with Mai during this period bc my boy may have been in denial but he knew enough not to lead anyone on just for the sake of normalcy, especially when he was feeling all types of conflicted. On that note, he still got pushed to spend some together with Jin back in Ba Sing Se but firmly and point blank told her that it was not a date --

bc all he could think about were fiery blue eyes

--but didn't mind going together as friends.

He would definitely be more awkward around Katara once he joins the team and Katara would be just as vicious bc the betrayal, while painful in canon, would probably be more devastating here since personal unresolved feelings (that have been building up since their many accidental meet ups) are involved. He'd still do his best to help her out while also trying not to be an eyesore by watching longingly from a distance. The rest of the Gaang just finds this a bit sad but also hilarious.

Like canon, things get better after Zuko and Katara went on their lifechanging bonding trip to find Kya's killer but instead of the one sided awkward/hostility, they were now both awkward and would shyly but somehow seamlessly move as a unit while they worked around the site, especially when it came time to make meals for everyone.

Fleeting touches, eyes locking for a few seconds before looking away, sitting in closer proximity around the campfire, Zuko silently placing flowers in places where Katara would easily find it and Katara reciprocating by making little snacks and giving it to him every now and then, particularly after his training sessions with Aang. If they sometimes held hands while they sat in silence after a long, hard day, then that's no one's business but their own.

Idk. I feel like it's a good kind of irony that they're both so passionate people who used to fight each other on sight but have this slow and sweet exploratory type of romance that would mostly go unacknowledged (out loud, though both knew the feeling was mutual) until after the war. Fits the vibe I had for them while drawing this so it was fun.

[backflow-incense]

I had a dream where I was in the elevator going to the subway station. The elevator malfunctioned and I was stuck in there for a long while. And nobody else could get into the subway station because of the elevator malfunction. At last, the elevator was fixed and I got out but everyone was looking at me like I personally broke down the elevator and disrupted their commute. I was feeling very bad and joined the crowd going to the subway. And then I saw MICHAEL SHEEN (with Aziraphale's hair) in the crowd and got really excited. I went to him and said "Hi, I really like your work. Can I get a picture please?" but he just looked pissed and gave me the side eye. I felt bad and rambled something along the lines of "Yeah, not the right time. You're right to decline. Of course, even if it was not the wrong right time you have the right to decline. You can just not want to be photographed." I added the last part because I thought of the recent Chappell Roan debacle. Since we were both going to the subway, we continued walking next to each other and it was really awkward. Then he murmured and said "They just need to check the elevators routinely and they cannot even manage that." And then we started to talk shit about politicians together

I didn't get the photo even after we united against politicians though. The dream ended as we were bonding. I hope we became friends over our shared hatred for bad public transportation management and politicians after the dream ended because his first look at me when I asked for a photo was not good...

[emberdew]

Be More Ghost Chapter 4: Three Player Game

Summary:

A Be More Chill AU where Danny gets a Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor (or Squip) to help him become cool and win over Valerie, but things don't really go as planned.

Masterpost | AO3 Link | Word Count: 1,906

It’s a three player game so when they make an attack you know ya gotta friend who's gonna have your back!

Danny, Tucker, and Sam sat in front of the computer in Danny’s room, all three intently focused on the screen and rapidly tapping buttons on their game controllers. Ever since the new Doomed expansion came out a few weeks ago, the teens had gotten into the habit of meeting up to play together after school as long as there wasn’t a ghost attack happening.

As Sam’s powerful character, Chaos, landed a finishing blow on the boss they were fighting, Danny leaned back and looked over to his best friends.

“So, what do you guys think about what Kwan said?”

Sam looked at him, incredulous. “It’s obviously a scam.”

“A really weird scam,” Tucker agreed.

“But what if it is real? I just give the jock who bullies me six… hundred… dollars…” Danny really wanted it to be true, but he had to admit it was far-fetched. “No, you’re right. I’m doomed to be a freak for the rest of my life. Afterlife?” Danny leaned back farther in his chair and dramatically covered his face with an arm.

“Halfterlife?” Tucker suggested. Danny just groaned in response.

“Danny, you don’t need some weird technology to teach you how to be cool. Being cool is overrated anyway.” Sam leaned over and flicked Danny’s arm.

“Plus guys like us are cool in college!” Tucker said. “High school may be hell now, but at least we have that to look forward to.”

Danny didn’t feel reassured. “If I can even get into a college with my awful grades. I can’t exactly put ghost hunting as an extracurricular on my college application.”

“You are in a ghost hunting club now though,” Tucker teased.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Danny rubbed where his shoulder was still sore from where Valerie had shot him earlier that day. “How would I even get six hundred dollars anyway?”

Danny shot up in his seat as an idea sprung to mind. “What if I stole my aunt Alicia’s beanie baby collection and sold them on eBay?”

Tucker looked at him for a long moment. “Okay, there’s several things wrong with that plan.” He held out his hand and started counting. “One, your aunt lives in Arkansas and it would take way too long to fly there on a school night. Two, beanie babies are worth like nothing on eBay. Three, didn’t you learn from the yard sale debacle with Technus last year not to sell other people’s stuff?”

Danny sunk down in his seat, defeated. “Oh yeah.”

“I have a better plan.” Tucker turned and raised his eyebrows at Sam. “What if we converted to Judaism?”

“You know what?” Sam stood up and slammed a wad of cash in Danny’s palm. “Here’s some bar mitzvah money. Congrats on becoming a man.”

“Wouldn’t it be a boo-mitzvah?” Tucker joked.

Danny ignored him and shoved the cash in his pocket gratefully, knowing better than to refuse Sam when she gave away money. They’d had that argument a thousand times and Sam always won, so he didn’t even bother anymore. “Thanks, Sam. That’s really gender-affirming.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam gestured her game controller towards the computer screen where the ‘Proceed to next level’ prompt was flashing. “Do you guys wanna keep playing?”

“Sure, let’s do another round.” Danny leaned forward in his seat. Tucker nodded in agreement and Sam pushed the confirm button.

They had made it about halfway through the level when a knock came from Danny’s door. Danny was too engrossed in the game to notice at first.

“Danny?” Jack called.

Danny sighed and paused the game, then got up and opened the door. Unsurprisingly, his dad was dressed in his usual bright orange jumpsuit.

“What is it?” Danny took a step back as Jack entered his room.

“The Mansons called. They want Sam to come home right away for dinner.” From out of nowhere, Jack pulled out a gun prototype that was sparking with electricity. “Before you go, want a demonstration of my newest invention? The Fenton Ghost Freezer 2.0 is ready for action!”

“No thanks, Dad!” Danny shoved his dad out the door and closed it.

Sam groaned. “Ugh, I forgot my parents are meeting with some business partner about a trip we’re going on this week. Dinner with them is going to be dreadful.”

“That sucks, sorry Sam.” Danny knew how much Sam hated having to go to fancy dinners with her parents.

“Yeah, well, at least I’ll get out of school for the next few days.” Sam stood up and grabbed her spider backpack off the back of her chair.

“Lucky!” Tucker said.

“Yup. Anyways, cya dorks later!” Sam waved and walked out the door.

“Cya!” Danny closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door shut, Danny turned to Tucker. “Okay so I know it’s probably stupid but what if we went to Payless just to see if Kwan’s story checks out?”

“If it does, would you be too cool for…” Tucker hesitated and looked down at the controller in his hands, “video games?”

“Of course not!” Danny sat back down next to Tucker and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know, you are my favorite person.”

Tucker looked up, brown eyes shining in delight.

“I’m your favowite person?” Tucker asked jokingly.

Danny laughed and nodded. He hoped Tucker didn’t notice him blushing. “Yeah, dude. We’re a team, and we’re gonna get through this high school shit together.”

“Yeah! Team Phantom can conquer anything.”

“That’s right.” Danny picked up his controller. “Before we go, wanna play one more level?”

“Heck yes!”

___

Several minutes later, the two boys high-fived after completing the level.

“Okay, time to go to the mall.” Danny got up out of his chair.

“Yup!” Tucker stood up and Danny held the door open for him.

The two boys walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Danny’s dad was too busy working on an invention at the kitchen table to notice their arrival. Danny cleared his throat and Jack looked up.

“Hey, kids!”

“Hi. Um. We’re gonna go get dinner at the mall.” Danny tugged at Tucker’s sleeve and started walking towards the door.

“Alright, be back by curfew!” Jack called.

Danny nodded and walked with Tucker out the door.

“Should we fly?” Danny asked.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tucker turned into a nearby alley and Danny went ghost, his white transformation rings lighting up late afternoon dimness.

“Grab on, Phantom Airlines is departing now.”

Tucker laughed and hugged Phantom from the back. He felt a slight coolness on his cheeks as he blushed- he cursed the cold ectoplasm coursing through his ghostly body that made him blush green- when he felt Tucker’s warm arms wrap around his chest. Phantom’s legs switched to a spectral tail as they took off towards the mall.

They flew in comfortable silence for the short trip to the Amity Park Mall. The city below them was also quiet and peaceful as the sun started to set on the horizon. Phantom was glad it seemed like there wasn’t going to be any ghost fights this evening.

He touched down gently at an empty edge of the mall’s parking lot and Tucker covered for him as he detransformed in a flash of light partially behind a tree.

Inside, the mall wasn’t very crowded at this time of day on a school night. Danny saw some A-Listers hanging around as they passed the food court, but none of them noticed as Danny and Tucker walked by on their way to Payless.

As they passed Sam’s favorite goth store, Danny regretted not waiting for her to be free to come with them.

“Sam would probably think this is a bad idea, right?” Danny asked. Tucker was looking in the window of the games store they were walking by.

“Oh for sure. I’m not even one hundred percent sure about this but I’m here for you, man.” Tucker elbowed Danny affectionately.

“Thanks.”

Danny felt the buzz of a ghost shield as he crossed the entrance of the Payless Shoes store. He remembered his parents had installed one there after the Box Ghost had terrorized the shoeboxes there a few too many times. The store was pretty much empty when they walked in- with the only sign of life being the bored-looking cashier behind the counter.

Danny stepped past the racks of shoes and tapped the countertop to get the cashier’s attention. The cashier’s haircut and sullen face reminded him a bit of Johnny 13. He looked up at Danny with a flicker of recognition.

“Let’s see the money.”

“What?” Danny was pretty sure that’s not how a normal store interaction was supposed to work.

“It’s from Japan. It’s a gray oblong pill- quantum nanotechnology CPU,” the cashier recited. “The quantum computer in the pull will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and it tells you what to do.”

“How did you know that’s why I’m here?” Danny was starting to get creeped out by this guy.

“Just look at you.” He motioned towards Danny. That was fair, Danny thought. “Do you have the four hundred?”

“Four?”

“Is that a problem?”

Danny thought about Kwan’s sales pitch. “There’s a guy at my school charging-” Tucker grabbed Danny’s shoulder to stop him. Danny looked at Tucker for a second, confused, and then realized why. “Oh, right. Yes, I have four hundred.”

After taking the cash, the cashier led Danny through a curtain to the back of the store. The guy traced a finger past the shoeboxes that lined the walls of the narrow room until he stopped, pulled out a box, and presented it to Danny.

It looked… like a normal shoebox. With a confused glance up at the cashier, Danny opened the lid and saw it was filled with small gray pills. The cashier plucked a pill from the box and held it up with two fingers.

“For your information, this is untested, illegal technology. I take no responsibility for what you might do with it. Or what it might do to you.”

Danny considered the tiny pill in the cashier’s hand. “What it might do to me?”

The cashier ignored him and continued. “You have to take it with Mountain Dew to activate it. Don’t know why. There’s just something about Mountain Dew.”

“Okay…” Danny grabbed the pill and shoved it into his pocket.

“And this is important-”

“Excuse me?” A girl’s voice said. The curtain to the room opened and Ashley appeared.

“We’re sold out!” The cashier shouted. Danny winced.

“Of… shoes?” Ashley pointedly looked at the shelves lining the walls.

“Oh, right. Shoes. Yes, we do have those.” The cashier turned to Danny and ushered him through the curtain and out of the room. “Get out of here.”

“Wait, didn’t you say there was something important I needed to know?”

The cashier, who had already been hovering near Ashley, turned back to Danny. “Oh yeah. All sales are final.”

Danny heard the cashier and Ashley discussing some new shoes as he and Tucker walked out of the store.

“Should we grab some food?” Danny asked.

Tucker looked up from his PDA. “Sure, I could go for some chili fries.”

As they started heading toward the mall food court, Danny kept checking his pocket to make sure the mysterious pill was still there.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 09

Okay, okay! I'll tell you all about it. You might want to sit down first. This will take a few minutes...

Last time, Asuka arrived in Japan to serve as the latest Eva pilot. She's already the most popular girl in school, and for some reason Suzuharu and Big Rigg Mahoney have started taking photos of her and selling them to her admirers. Well, the reason is money, obviously. That, and just being little shits.

Asuka seems to revel in the attention, but only because she feels entitled to it. She finds the other pilot, Rei, and introduces herself. Rei isn't particularly impressed.

Asuka wants to be friends, and Rei asks why, then says she'll do it if ordered by their superiors at NERV. Cold.

Oh, hey, remember Kaji? That asshole from the previous episode? The one who ditched the others and delivered that mysterious package to Gendo Ikari? Well, he's staying at the base for some reason. He seems to want to re-start his romance with Misato, but that doesn't stop him from just groping Ritsuko like they've been married for a year. Fuck Kaji, is what I'm trying to say.

Moving on, the real story of this episode is another Angel attack. This is the seventh one overall, and the fifth we've seen since the series started. Like the fifth Angel, this one is headed straight for the NERV base, but they're still reeling from that battle, so they can't afford to let it get that close. Instead, Misato deploys Units 01 and 02 to the shoreline, where they'll intercept the Angel as it makes landfall. If they can double-team the thing, they should be able to overwhelm it before it gets a chance to do anything.

That's the plan, anyway, but Asuka has her own plan, since she wants to make a big debut in Unit 02. She jumps into the surf and cuts the angel in half. Good job, except...

It splits into two monsters and continues attacking. Whoops!

We skip ahead to some time after the battle, but the photos tell the story. NERV was completely humiliated, because they had to call the UN for support. The UN dropped an "N2 mine" on the Angel to halt its advance. This is the same weapon used on the Third Angel from Episode 1. I should note that it didn't work at all in Episode 1, so I don't understand why it helps now. Each new Angel seems to be more powerful than the last, and this one defeated two Evas, which is unprecedented.

The UN's attack managed to burn off 28% of its mass, which temporarily incapacitated it, but it's only a matter of time before it regenerates and picks up where it left off. Okay, I guess that's fair, since the Third Angel needed to regenerate after getting N2'ed, but it didn't take very long. This one needs about a week.

Being, you know, literal children, Asuka and Shinji fail to learn anything from this debacle. Asuka defied orders and went into business for herself, but Shinji just stood there and watched like a dope. Maybe if he had taken some initiative and supported her play, they might have been able to make something work, but he always does as he's told. And this is a problem, because the two of them will have to fight the Angel all over again when it recovers, so they need to be on the same page.

I don't know why Kaji's even in this briefing. He observes that the UN strike bought them time to regroup, and "you can't ask for more than that," which is the stupidest thing anyone says in this conference, which includes bickering from literal children. Yes, Kaji, we can ask for more than this. The whole point of this meeting is to ask the Eva pilots to get their shit together and win the battle in a single engagement.

Another entry in my Kaji Sucks file: I hate this shot of him talking to Asuka. I hate that stupid look on his stupid face, I hate how Asuka has a crush on his useless ass. I hate his clip-on tie, which might be an animation error but it looks stupid either way. In this moment I'm rooting for the Angel to destroy the NERV base just to ensure he dies along with everyone else.

Kaji does have a suggestion to get the kids ready for the rematch, but he can't just say it in the meeting, he has to write it down on a computer file and give it to Ritsuko to give it to Misato, because fuck this guy.

Later, Shinji comes home to Misato's apartment and finds Asuka has moved in. She claims that she's taking Shinji's place, although she'd rather live with Kaji. I'm sure he'd love that too. Kaji is the worst.

Asuka gripes about how small the place is and wonders why all the doors in Japan have no locks, and then Misato shows up to explain that the Japanese way is to "consider the priorities and needs of others before one's own." Right, no other culture ever thought of that before Japan came along, Misato. And what does that have to do with the doors not having locks? If that made any sense, then why does the front door have a lock?

So what is the point of all this? Well, Misato explains that this was Kaji's idea: Shinji and Asuka will spend the next six days living together and doing everything in unison, in order to practice synchronizing their attacks when they face the Angel in six days. They both hate this idea, but there's no time for anything else.

This does not go well, mostly because Asuka is too proud to go along with it. This exercise with the Twister/DDR game is a failure, so Misato asks Rei to give it a try and she syncs up perfectly with Shinji's movements. So why not just have Rei and Shinji tag up for the battle? I mean, they worked well together a while back? It's a proven formula. Rei's Eva doesn't have weapons, but I'm pretty sure they can reconfigure 02 for Rei quickly enough.

So it's the Fusion Reborn plot, but with Asuka in the Vegeta role. She can either fight alongside Shinji, or she can ride the pine. This makes her upset, and her dumb friend tells Shinji to go talk to her because "he made her cry", but by the time he catches up with her she's already worked this out. She'll do the training.

And there's a training montage, and they succeed! I don't quite understand how this tranlates to Eva piloting, but at least they can stand to work together, which has to be an improvement.

Maybe it works a little too well. They sleep in separate rooms, of course, but one night Asuka gets up to use the toilet, then plops down in the wrong futon. There's a tense moment where Shinji's worried that his cassette player will wake her up, but it doesn't. She just lays there and murmurs the word "mama". He almost kisses her, but then he thinks better of it and sleeps on the floor.

Lips in anime are the worst. They always draw these characters with teeny-tiny mouths, which isn't a huge problem until they try to do a scene like this, where Shinji stares at a closeup of Asuka's lips, which look ridiculous because it's so badly misproportioned. He's trying to move in closer to kiss her except their heads are so weird that the pose ends up looking awkward.

I guess it doesn't matter, since he bails out at the last second, bitterly muttering that Asuka is "just a child". I'm not sure how to interpret that, but whatever.

Speaking of awkward kissing, Kaji makes out with Misato in the elevator. When they get to her floor, she steps out and tells him this is a mistake, and he replies with some bullshit about her words saying "no", but her lips saying "yes". Fuck this guy.

Later, she confides in Ritsuko that their relationship, which ended eight years ago, was "the biggest blemish" on her life. I'm curious to see why that would be, but that probably won't get paid off for a while.

Anyway, the big fight happens, and Shinji and Asuka execute the plan perfectly. This time they let the Angel come to them, but they cut their power cables and fight with the one minute of battery life they have. They cut the thing in half like before, then whale on the two halves before finally doing this double divekick move to destroy the Angel's core to end the battle.

The resulting explosion does leave the Evas in an undignified pose, but a win is a win.

This dude is embarrassed, but I didn't see him do a damn thing the whole time. He doesn't even have a name. I mean, they put his bio in the DVD extra features, but why should I care what they call him if they never say his name in the show? He usually just stands behind Gendo and tries to look important. Well fuck him. I'm calling him Clownshoes from now on.

And that's it. I guess this episode was good enough, but I'm not sure about the dynamic Asuka adds to the cast. She's at least active, which is more than I can say for Rei or Shinji, but a lot of time is spent just getting Asuka to do simple teamwork like "cooperating" or "facing reality". Even the NERV staff are getting frustrated about having to work with children, even though the Evangelion program seems to depend upon it for some reason.

In the end, that's just what the show is about, so I can't complain that it nails the depiction of putting children behind the wheel of a super-weapon. It's either a power fantasy or a nightmare, depending on your point of view, and this show tackles that pretty damn well.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Our Little Secret

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Jess Goodwin-Presley, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Charlie Hodge, Red West

Rating: Teen

Word Count:  5012

Summary: Some things are to be kept between man and wife.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Mother Daughter Arguing, Tension, Stress, Mentions of the Colonel, Weddings, Secret Weddings, Las Vegas, In my mind they become a proper lil family unit and lisa moves back to Memphis.

Notes: Since most of our Elvis and Addie fics are heart wrenching here’s some good old fluff.

ELVIS MASTERLIST //  ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST

‘Okay, so no flowers,’ Addison sighed hoping that this decree would be enough to end their argument as she finally reached the end of her tether.

‘You can’t get married without flowers!’ Marci protested, her eyes wide at the mere suggestion of such a thing. Addison sighed trying to push the irritation her friend's aghast expression caused from her body. She didn't mean to be annoyed at her, it wasn't her fault that her florist had cancelled less than a week away from the big day offering no more than an excuse about a supply issue and the numbers to some other vendors in Memphis who might be able to help, and yet she couldn't help but feel annoyed because even though it was disappointing for her it didn't matter. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry Elvis, they’d been engaged since the minute they’d gotten back together nearly a year ago, it was that she just didn’t see the need for all the fuss. Like with everything he wanted to go all out and show them off to the world and whilst she understood his reasons it hadn’t been easy. Since leaving the Colonel he’d been busy and though that wasn't irregular for him this time it was different because he was actually enjoying it for once. He loved the work he was doing now and the opportunities not being tied to the old toad came with which is why she'd encouraged him to do whatever he wanted but that had meant the wedding planning had fallen in her lap, well, hers and Marci’s hence why the no flowers debacle had turned into a half-hour debate as they’d waited around to go down to the show.

‘She’s right Mom,’ Jess concurred making her mother's glare fall on her as though she was being betrayed. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised considering Jess had become quite the little advocate for this wedding whenever Elvis wasn’t around. She knew it was because it meant so much to him but still, if she had to listen to one more conversation about flowers or dresses or cakes she felt as though she may scream.

‘Well, what am I supposed to do? They can’t magic a crop of flowers where there are none,’ Addison said.

‘Well maybe we just pick something else? Could they do that?’ Jess reasoned.

‘It took Mar two weeks to pick them out for me,’ Addison reasoned.

‘No, no, Jessie’s right!’ Marci agreed, ‘have they got others?’

‘I assume so what with it being a florist and all,’ Addison said sarcastically though neither of them seemed to be paying attention as they conjured up a solution.

‘How about chrysanthemums?’ Jess asked watching her aunt who frowned.

‘No they won’t match,’ Marci said.

‘Yeah you’re right I forgot the dresses are purple,’ Jess agreed.

‘How do you even know what a chrysanthemum is?’ Addison asked.

‘We learned about them in school,’ Jess shrugged, ‘what about lilies?’

‘They’ll stain,’ Marci said, ‘what about those white roses we said originally?’

‘Maybe some freesias?’ Jess added.

‘Ooh yeah, that’s pretty!’ Marci said as the pair of them looked towards the bride, Addison shrugged, ‘if you can sort it be my guest.’

‘I’ll do it right now,’ Marci said with a self-satisfied smirk before she headed to the phone.

As she disappeared into the other room a glare that resembled Addison’s fell across Jess's pretty face making her mother frown as she said, ‘what?’

‘You could act more appreciative y’know,’ Jess said.

‘Mar knows I appreciate her,’ Addison replied, Jess sighed.

‘I’m just saying it’s like you don’t even wanna get married sometimes,’ Jess replied as she dropped her gaze to her lap twirling a piece of fringe from her shirt around her finger. Addison frowned, wondering to herself if that was really how she sounded.

‘Jess,’ Addison sighed but before she could protest and inform her daughter that weddings and marriages didn’t conflate she heard her name yelled across the suite.

As she stood up Jess sighed and rose too heading to where her aunt was still on the phone. Addison watched her go with a heavy heart before she headed to where her name was called again. When she got there she found Lisa standing by the door of her room partially dressed for the night.

‘What’s the matter, sweetie?’ Addison asked as a pout fell on the blonde’s face.

‘I can’t find my shoe,’ she said offering up the other one as some sort of proof its twin was in fact missing.

‘Well it’s gotta be somewhere,’ Addison said though they’d spent a lot of this year living out of suitcases Addison wasn’t surprised something was missing. After a quick sweep of the room she found it and though she knew she probably shouldn’t she didn’t protest when Lisa offered her father’s puppy dog eyes and asked her to help her put them on.

When they re-emerged the suite was full, evidently the meeting Elvis had been in was now over given that most of the boys were in the suite their wives in tow. Not that it mattered because as Addison appeared into the entryway, Lisa’s little hand clasped in hers, whatever attention Elvis had been paying to his friends was gone.

‘Hey,’ he said, a beaming smile on his face as he approached his girls. Addison returned it, whatever upset she’d been feeling at Jess’ guilt-tripping ebbing away at his twinkling smile.

‘Hi,’ she replied as he pulled her close pressing a quick kiss on her lips which made her smile widen.

‘You look stunning,’ Elvis murmured.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ Addison giggled, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. He was dressed for the show, swathed in a white jumpsuit that made his eyes sparkle and his summer tan look richer.

‘Yeah well-‘ Elvis started though before he could continue he felt a small hand push on his thigh forcing them to part and when he looked down he found his daughter watching them with a pout as she said, ‘what about me?’

‘Well you always look pretty buttonhead,’ he said moving to hoist her up onto his hip, forgetting as he always did she was getting a tad too old for it though it was brought to his and Addison’s attention as an uncomfortable grunt escaped his lips.

‘Jessie helped me pick out my dress,’ she said showing him the red summer sun dress she was sporting. 

‘Well it’s very nice,’ Elvis said, kissing her cheek before he said, ‘speaking of where is Jess?’

‘She’s with Mar,’ Addison said a hint of a sigh in her voice her soon-to-be husband didn’t fail to miss. And as he watched her quickly divert off the topic hoisting Lisa down onto the ground so they could get ready to head downstairs he felt the idea something was amiss cement inside him.

He let her pull away from him, pretending he wasn’t watching her as she plastered a smile on her face as she greeted their friends, but when they were called to head downstairs he lingered by the door, catching her by the arm as she walked past him pulling her from the flow of the crowd.

‘Uh, boss?’ Charlie said as the dregs of people made their way out of the suite leaving just Elvis and Addison behind, a confused look on her face as Elvis replied, ‘just give us a minute.’

‘Sure,’ Charlie said eying them for a second before he obediently closed the door leaving them in the empty suite.

‘Everything okay?’ Addison asked with a frown as watched her waiting for her to lay on him whatever it was that was bugging her.

‘I was just gonna ask the same thing,’ Elvis said making her sigh, ‘you okay?’

‘Fine,’ she lied.

‘But?’ he said reaching out to wrap his arms around her so that she was engulfed in him, her only option to peer up into those adoring blue eyes. She paused, her fingers intent on playing with the blue threading on the peacock jumpsuit he was sporting until finally, she muttered, ‘remind me why you want a big wedding again?’

‘Ah,’ Elvis frowned, ‘more problems?’

‘The florist cancelled. I tried fixing it but it’s just a bit chaotic. I mean it’s a week away and I’m trying to arrange things when we’re thousands of miles away y’know?’ she said, her words causing nerves to flutter through him.

‘You’re having second thoughts?’ Elvis asked with a frown.

‘No! Of course not, not at all!’ she sighed as her arms slid up to wrap around his neck, ‘it’s just all of this stuff I don’t care about…the flowers and cakes and everything. I know you probably feel like I don’t wanna.’

‘I don’t think that,’ Elvis said earnestly. Honestly considering she’d been anti-fuss since he’d known her he hadn’t expected any different, he’d just been happy she’d been willing to put up with his longing to have a big wedding.

He knew it was silly. His last wedding had been a big one and yet they’d had no control over any of it, opting to have their own ceremony at the house just a few weeks later but this time he wanted big. He wanted everything to be what they wanted, not what the colonel had arranged. He wanted to show her off to the world, to prove that after all that heartache and pain he’d finally got his girl. He’d finally got to put that ring on her hand in front of his friends and family the way he’d intended it to be when they were just kids. And fortunately, she’d been happy to let him. And though they weren’t yet married he knew her better than anyone. He knew that if something had gone wrong she would’ve fixed it or let it go so whatever had got her in a funk must’ve run deeper, a notion that was confirmed as she murmured, ‘your daughter does.’

‘Ah,’ he murmured, running a hand down her cheek, ‘you guys are fighting.’

‘Not fighting it’s just that she thinks me not wanting a big wedding means that I don’t love you which isn’t true.’

‘Baby I know that,’ Elvis chuckled seeing the worry in her eyes dim at his laughter, ‘Jess knows that too she’s just looking out for us that’s all. I mean us getting married probably means as much to her as it does to us.’

‘I know,’ Addison agreed, ‘and I’m sorry, I know you’re too busy for all this.’

‘I’m not too busy,’ Elvis corrected as his thumb caressed her cheek.

‘El this is your busiest year yet what with the Colonel and everything,’ she argued.

‘Ads I’m not too busy for us,’ Elvis reiterated, ‘if you need help I can help. Just tell me what needs doing and I’ll get it done okay? Heck if you want to pick a florist here in Vegas I’ll have someone drive the damn flowers home.’

‘You’re sweet you know that,’ she giggled.

‘That’s me, sweet as pie,’ he smiled unable to stop himself now that he could see she’d relaxed. She smiled back at him before pulling away evidently realising that time was ticking on and that he was due to be on stage any minute. He grumbled as she walked away, allowing him to pull her by the hand through the door though as they headed towards the elevator.

Red was the only one in the hallway, most of the party having already headed to respective destinations, but even so Elvis slowed, not quite ready to leave her side just yet. She glanced at him curiously but said nothing allowing him to follow her onto the elevator wordlessly and they rode in silence down to the main floor which was only broken as Jerry appeared, ready and waiting to escort Addison to the showroom floor where Marci and his daughters would be waiting for her. Yet as she went to leave the elevator he stopped her, pulling her into him as he said, ‘what no good luck kiss?’

‘You don’t need luck,’ she said rolling her eyes but leaning up to kiss him all the same as his arms wrapped around her. Even though he loved having her in the crowd watching at that moment he didn’t want to let her go. She noticed his apprehension, her brows knitting together as she asked, ‘what?’

‘Thank you,’ he said simply.

‘What for?’ she asked confused.

‘Everything, because been though I know this isn’t your ‘thing’,’ he said smirking as she rolled her eyes, ‘you’ve been amazing.’

‘Well thank you,’ she smiled though her face became curious as she fiddled with his collar and asked, ‘remind me why it’s your thing again?’

‘Addie I planned to marry you two weeks after we got together. I guess we’ve waited so long when I finally do get you down that aisle I want it to be special. I wanna show you, us, off,’ he said honestly.

‘You big softy! Though you’re sure I can’t tempt you into a registry office? I mean we are in Vegas,’ she said quirking her eyebrow suggestively.

‘Nice try,’ he chuckled.

‘Uh boss?’ Red said, grabbing his attention. Elvis glanced back noting the serious look on his friend's face that suggested he didn’t have time to be dawdling. Addison seemed to notice it too and leaned up to kiss him quickly, muttering, ‘have a good show. I’ll see you when you get off stage?’

‘See you later honey,’ he said, allowing her to leave his arms and head towards where Jerry was waiting for her. Though as they disappeared out of the heavy metal doors leading to the foyer of the hotel Elvis paused.

‘Everything okay man?’ Red asked noting how his friend hadn’t yet moved to head to the stage.

‘Yeah,’ Elvis said before he added, ‘actually can you help me?’

✵✵✵

Mid-show Red had informed Addison that Elvis had been called away to socialise with a friend of the owner and instead of having Lisa fight to stay awake backstage she’d decided she may as well take the girls upstairs. Whilst Jess disappeared to her room, evidently still in a rut with her mother over their crossed word, Lisa ran to the couch, not content with going to bed without at least saying goodnight to her daddy. Though unfortunately for Elvis any fight his littlest had seemed to ebb the moment they got situated on the couch ready to watch some TV and after half an hour Addison found Lisa cuddled up into her side, flat out. Addison sighed, knowing that tomorrow morning she’d no doubt get an earful off of the six-year-old about putting her to bed before she was ready but nevertheless, she scooped her up and headed down the hall with her in her arms so she could put her to bed. It didn’t take long to get her tucked up in bed, her sleepy eyes opening just a little as she was jostled into a pair of pyjamas, and before long Addison was creeping out of the girl’s room, shutting the door as quietly as she could as to not disturb her. Though as she turned around any chance at being quiet disappeared as she let out a gasp when she found Jess standing behind her.

‘Jesus,’ Addison chuckled quietly, ‘you scared the crap outta me.’

‘Sorry just using the bathroom,’ Jess mumbled before she padded across the hall to her room. Addison sighed and though it seemed whatever spat they were having wasn’t going to be dealt with tonight she decided to at least show her daughter she was ready for a ceasefire whenever that may come about as she said, ‘Goodnight Jessie.’

‘Night mom,’ Jess said pausing in her doorway as her mother watched her. Finally, she looked at her and said, ‘tell dad I said goodnight?’

‘Of course,’ Addison said feeling that this was her daughter dipping her toe in the water something that was proved true as she didn’t head inside and stayed half in the doorway before turning back and saying, ‘Mom?’

‘Yeah, sweetheart?’ Addison said turning to look at her daughter since she had made it look as though she had been heading to leave, allowing Jess not to feel pressured into whatever she wanted to say next.

‘I’m sorry about before,’ Jess said, ‘what I said about the wedding I know you want to marry him.’

‘More than anything,’ Addison said, closing the distance and hugging her daughter before pulling back and placing her hands on the sides of her face. She was the same height as her now, almost a woman, and yet to Addison she still felt like that baby girl she’d held in her arms.

‘I didn’t mean to be rude,’ Jess said guiltily.

‘You weren’t and I know how I must seem like I don’t care about it but you that’s not true. I wanna get married, I’d have married him the day he asked, and if uprooting our entire lives didn’t prove that I don’t know what will,’ Addison smiled, gliding her thumb across her daughter’s cheek, ‘it's just busy that’s all. Your dad’s working harder than ever, we’ve got to arrange a world tour, your school, seeing Lisa the last thing I care about is what colour flowers we have on our wedding day.’

‘So why don’t me and Mar worry about it?’ Jess asked.

‘Jessie,’ Addison giggled, pulling back from her just a touch.

‘Seriously I mean it. Why don’t me and Mar head home for the week? We can arrange everything and all you’ll have to do is show up,’ Jess said excitedly. Addison couldn’t help but smile as her husband-to-be’s words echoed in her head. He was right, this wedding probably meant more to her than anyone.

‘How about we talk about it tomorrow?’ Addison chuckled.

‘Okay,’ Jess said, her sour mood evidently having evaporated with the prospect of wedding planning, ‘night mom.’

‘Night honey,’ she said allowing her to leave her grasp and head into her hotel room.

After that Addison decided to head back to her own room with the idea of getting into bed ready for when Elvis was relinquished from schmoozing whoever it was he’d been obligated to stay downstairs for though she was no sooner over the threshold of their room before she felt a pair of hands nip at her waist startling her for a second time. When she turned around he was watching her with joy and though he allowed her to swat his chest he didn’t wait long before he pulled her to him leaning down to give her a kiss.

‘Hi,’ he said as they broke apart, noting that his teasing was long forgotten given the smile on her face.

‘Hi,’ she said moving back so she could look at him. He’d changed into his ‘normal’ clothes though normal for him still meant a rich blue suit and shirt buttoned so low it made Addison’s mouth go dry. Not that she let it deter her for long as she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, ‘so, good show?’

‘Always a good show with you guys watchin’,’ Elvis said with a smile, ‘did you like it?’

‘Always do,’ she mused.

‘And here I thought Jer was bein’ stingy with compliments when he said it was ‘great,’ Elvis chuckled.

‘Well how about I give you a proper review,’ she said, trailing her fingers up the bare skin on his chest though she was stopped as he grabbed her by the wrist and replied, ‘maybe later.’

‘Oh,’ she said though before she could question his reluctance he announced, ‘I wanna go out.’

‘What?’ she asked.

‘What do you say? I mean the nights still young, the girls are asleep, why not?’ Elvis said.

‘I don’t really feel like going to a casino or anything,’ Addison said. In fact she didn’t want to do anything besides what she’d just suggested, their ludicrously large bed mere feet away beckoning them to it.

‘I don’t mean a casino,’ Elvis said rolling his eyes, ‘I mean just us. Like the old days.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Addison asked even more confused with his explanation.

‘Us two. Ridin’ around Memphis in my car,’ he said simply.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘You wanna go? Could be a nice lil stress reliever,’ he said, letting her go but not enough that he couldn’t hold her by the hand pulling her down towards the elevator.

‘It thought we had a stress reliever,’ Addison quipped.

‘Ads,’ he said with enough seriousness in his tone Addison could see that this wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘but you’re driving.’

‘Deal.’

Though she had been sceptical at first their little trip out around the city didn’t turn out to be all that bad. Of course she couldn’t say whether spending the night not leaving their bed would’ve been better but this was nice all the same. Given that Elvis had arranged for them to have a car that wasn’t one of theirs waiting they were virtually nameless as they tore out onto the streets of Las Vegas something Addison found wasn’t all that bad. She had loved this last year with him but like with the wedding it wasn’t always easy. She couldn’t just go to the store anymore. She couldn’t walk across the street without being looked at or sometimes approached. She barely got a minute alone without someone needing him for something. And though she understood she couldn’t help but savour those moments when it was just the two of them. Like those early days when he was stepping into her world rather than her stepping into his.

And yet it didn’t feel as though they were in anyone's world anymore, it felt more as though they were in the past, riding around Memphis alone like they used to do when they were desperate to get away from everyone but each other. She was sitting beside him, her head on his shoulder as he drove around town, the only noise the murmur of the radio and their steady breathing given that the pair of them seemed to feel the same urge to forgo conversation and just be. Yet she felt him glance down at her, his hand moving to her cotton-covered thigh as he murmured, ‘wanna go for burgers or something?’

‘Sure,’ she said placing her hand on his as she closed her eyes, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. She kept them closed as he drove, only opening them as she felt him turn his indicator on and the distinct thud of the car passing from the road into a parking lot.

It was dark now and though they were in the parking lot of somewhere she was sure it wasn’t a burger joint and so she said, ‘Elvis?'

Though she uttered no more than his name her questions were obvious and yet he didn’t answer her, instead he carried on heading into a parking space as she craned her neck so she could see the establishment they were at which she was right wasn’t a diner but a chapel.

‘Elvis this isn’t a diner,’ she said confused as to why he wasn't replying at the simple error though her thoughts became less jumbled as he put the car in park and turned towards her watching her with a cocky grin on his face.

‘What are you doing?’ was all she could ask.

‘Giving you what you want,’ Elvis shrugged as though it was obvious.

‘Elvis I don’t understand,’ she said, trying to ignore the thudding in her heart as he watched her.

‘You wanted simple and well this is as simple as you can get,’ he said watching as she tried to process everything.

‘But the wedding I mean you wanted the big wedding and we've been planning-‘

‘I know I know,’ he chuckled, ‘and believe me, I intend to do that weddin’ too but I figured you’ve spent near on a year humouring me and my ideas I figured why not do the same for you.’

‘Elvis,’ she said trying to ignore the lump in her throat as happy tears threatened to spill over.

‘Hell woman you ain’t gon’ cry on me are ya? I thought this is what you’d want,’ Elvis said as worry crept in. When she’d suggested it early that night he hadn’t expected such a tiny seed to take root inside his brain but by the time he’d gotten to the stage it was all he could think about. He still wanted his big wedding – the one to show her off to the world but he could give her what she wanted too. Something small something intimate, something just for them. Addison shook her head, ‘it is! I just can’t believe you’d do this for me.’

‘I’d do anything for you,’ Elvis said firmly, ‘Addie over the last year you’ve uprooted your entire life. You’ve planned a wedding, looked after our daughters while I worked and made sure that work didn’t kill me in the process. If I can give you a simple wedding that’s what I’m gonna do.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘not just for this but this past year too. I know it took us a while but I’m glad we waited for everything that we have now.’

‘Me too,’ Elvis said with a smile.

‘I love you,’ Addison said.

‘I love you baby. Now c’mon,’ he said opening the door and holding out his hand for her to take, ‘let’s get us married.’

 ✵✵✵

‘I’m hungry,’ Addison said as she felt her stomach gurgle, trying to recall the last thing she’d eaten. It must’ve been at least five hours ago if not more but even so her body's call for nourishment was struggling to override her longing not to move from where she was nestled beside her new husband.

‘Wore ya out huh?’ Elvis said, his nimble fingers tickling along her side as she rolled onto her front so that she could see him.

‘Funny,’ she said rolling her eyes.

‘Room service?’ he suggested, enjoying the way his heart fluttered when she smiled at him.

‘Sounds good,’ she said though she sighed when he made no effort to move from the bed, ‘and here I was thinkin’ that you’d be a good husband once we were married.’

‘I just wanted to enjoy the view,’ Elvis smirked as she climbed out of bed in search of a menu, ‘oh and get the champagne!’

As she disappeared into the living room, he flopped back, running his fingers through his hair as he lay there.

Married. Elvis Presley was married, again. And not a soul knew. Well besides him, his wife and the sworn-to secrecy chapel staff but who was counting? He couldn’t believe that after sixteen years of waiting he’d married the love of his life, she was his. After all the torment and heartbreak they were together for what he was determined to be forever because there were no doubts here. There was no fretting or worrying about what lay ahead because with her it felt right, like it always had. That had been the main reason he’d wanted a big wedding in the first place, to finally show everyone that whatever had happened in the past didn’t mean anything because they had their future.

A future he couldn’t wait to begin no more so than when she reappeared, now clad in a nightdress much to his disappointment, clambering onto the bed, champagne bottle and room service menu in hand, as she sat beside him. Though he already knew what he wanted from room service he pretended to peruse the menu she handed him though only for a minute as his attention was diverted to her as she glugged down a mouthful of champagne offering him the bottle a moment later.

He pushed himself to sit up, taking a swig before handing the bottle back to her, watching her closely.

‘What?’ she asked feeling his eyes on her face.

‘Nuthin’,’ he smiled, ‘I’m so glad we did this.’

‘Me too,’ she smiled though it dimmed as she added, ‘though Jess is going to be furious. Mar too.’

‘Maybe we don’t tell them just yet?’ Elvis suggested and though it didn’t seem all that fair it was probably the best option given how upset he knew both the girls would be let alone Marci. Addison pondered that for a moment, gnawing on her lip nervously before she said, ‘maybe we don’t tell anyone.’

‘Huh?’ Elvis replied.

‘I mean maybe this wedding can just be for us? Our little secret,’ she suggested. She knew it was silly to ask for more after all he’d already given her today and yet she couldn’t help but want it. To have something that was just theirs. So that in years to come when people talked about the Presley wedding; about the food, or the venue or the god-forsaken flowers they’d be talking about something else entirely and they'd never know. They’d never know that when they spoke of the luxurious designer wedding dress she wore Addison was thinking about an old summer dress she’d bought many moons ago when she, Jess and Marci had taken a vacation to the beach. They’d never know that when they raved about how good the sit down dinner they’d had was Addison would agree recalling a midnight snack of burgers and pancakes picked off a room service menu and washed down with champagne. They’d never know that the first dance they gushed about, the pair of them dancing elegantly across the back lawn, wasn’t the first dance Addison recalled instead thinking of the pair of them laughing and giggling in an uncoordinated tangle above the city of Las Vegas. No, all those things would just be for them and fortunately, Elvis seemed to be on the same wavelength as he said, ‘yeah, maybe you’re right.’

‘Our little secret,’ she said.

‘Our little secret,’ he nodded leaning in so that he was barely an inch from her face, his thumb and forefinger pinching her chin to keep her in place as he said, ‘are you happy Mrs Presley?’

‘Happier than ever.’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

Nuparu's Longing

Somewhere around his 30,000th year, Nuparu reckoned, he'd forgotten how to make friends. Not that he'd ever had many, but there had been a time, when was a newly-minuted Onu-Matoran going through training in Ga-Metru, when it had seemed like you were just thrown together with people and before you realised it, you were friends. When he returned to Onu-Metru with the incoming class of Onu-Matoran to their first assignments, it had seemed like this was just how life worked: you were thrown together with others like you, you spent time together, and then you were friends.

But no one else was thrown together with him when he first started to experiment with Kralhi, and even Mavrah talked to him less after that. Officially, Nuparu was still on the roster as a Rahi Receiving Official at the Onu-Metru dockyard, but the Kralhi project had been commissioned by the Turaga, so the shifts became fewer and more infrequent until they had vanished altogether. It was thrilling work, engineering the enforcers, and then frantic work, when they failed and had to be decommissioned. By the time Nuparu emerged from that debacle to again take a normal shift, several hundred years had passed, and he no longer had friends, only acquiantances--and Mavrah.

And that was enough. Nuparu didn't seek social gatherings, either those for Onu-Matoran alone, or those for the entire city at the Coliseum, content to do his work and his research, and he avoided the elbow-rubbing of neighbours at shops or in the streets, preferring to be "efficient": going to the market dark off-hours or having things delivered outside his residence. The neighbours--by now mostly more newly-made Onu-Matoran who had never known him in a normal setting, knew him only as the infamous inventor of the Krahli.

It didn't bother Nuparu when Mavrah stopped visiting. At first he didn't notice. They were still friendly; he just wasn't interested in the Rahi-centric pursuits that Mavrah was now getting up to with Whenua and Onepu. And he was getting busy again: Turaga Dume, almost alone in the city, didn't see him as the failed inventor of "Nuparu's folly." Instead, he saw Nuparu as a brilliant mind who alone had the talent to engineer the Vahki. With a little more guidance from Dume and with Nuparu learning from his failures, the Vahki would be everything the Kralhi had been meant to be.

When the Vahki were finally commissioned and the tinkering had ended, Nuparu had not seen Mavrah in so many decades that even he discerned that theirs might no longer be an active friendship, perhaps only a past association, and Nuparu considered that while he regretted the end of their camaraderie and their chat, he couldn't imagine a way to say that to Mavrah, especially as Mavrah clearly didn't need him: after all, Mavrah had done nothing either to tie them back together. He was happier in his new pursuits with Whenua and Onepu.

So Nuparu was along, and the Vahki were deployed, and Nuparu was both lonely and idle, for though Dume kept him employed as the Vahki technician, it was infrequent work fixing damaged units and adjusting subroutines to please the Turaga. Without a task or a great puzzle to employ him, Nuparu felt keenly his isolation, but it was a problem he could not fix, that he could not imagine fixing. Instead he hoped for a puzzle that might distract him and give him again a sense of purpose.

It did not come, but disaster did. Mavrah was lost. When at last he was declared dead, there was a memorial at the Coliseum. Those who wished to pay their respects, those who remembered him, came and laid a hand on a faded Pakari and left a candle to burn out. There were already dozens of candles burning when Nuparu made his way across the great arena at the end of the vigil hours. There was only one face he recognised.

"It's been a long time, Nuparu," said Whenua, and there might have been a trace of judgement in the words, though perhaps it was just banter. "There aren't many of us left who remember Onu-Metru before they dug the North Gallery. My newest assistant was promoted before he ever realised it wasn't part of the original plan."

"There are so few chances to speak of the past," said Nuparu, who could scarce imagine a rotating cast of assistants. "The future is ever beckoning."

"Well, some of us help it along, don't we," said Whenua, and it definitely seemed like he might be saying something. "Of course, in the old days, a little more idle chatter was permitted."

"Is it not permitted now?" asked Nuparu, unclear what Whenua meant.

"Loiter during work hours with friends and see how the Rorzahk feel about it," said Whenua, and the Rorzahk's inventor squirmed a little.

"I don't have friends," said Nuparu, quietly, though Whenua heard him. "Not anymore…" He looked at Mavrah's memorial. "Once…" He stopped. "I wish…" Then he sighed. "Friends came easily, once, but I let them slip away just as easily. Now they are all gone."

~~~*~

It wasn't that long after Mavrah's memorial, as the Matoran reckoned things, that things came apart at last. Living alone and rarely consulted, Nuparu did not complain when the Vahki came, even for him, but followed them to the Coliseum almost eagerly: he was ready to be thrown in with the other Matoran, no distinction being made. That is how friendships form. Only with a hint of misgiving did he enter his pod, and then all was forgotten.

~~~*~

Nuparu might have been the oldest Onu-Matoran left, Turaga Whenua mused to himself, looking at his villagers on the shores of the new island. Nuparu had been shielded from the dangers of Onu-Metru by his removal to his strange fate. Whenua had never known him well, and still found that he disliked him a little, unable to forget that the odd inventor had made the Vahki, but as he watched Nuparu and the other Onu-Matoran mingling, he shook his head.

He's as young as any of them now. They're all young. And if Turaga Whenua had his way, they would all grow old too. Nuparu would have to just be a normal Matoran with a normal job, though--Whenua wasn't about to set him apart. He'd just have to mingle with the village and work shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of them.

Neither he nor Nuparu knew it, but this was exactly what Nuparu had long wanted. This is how friendships are formed.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Unwanted (Chapter 5)

Dark! Cheating! Bucky x Reader

Warning: Cheating

I wanted to break my own heart when I wrote this. I can’t say I was Wholly successful, but it stung a bit. 

The polls have spoken, Unwanted will become a full-blown series, I have gotten a few messages about making this a lighter fic and giving the reader a happier ending. Unfortunately, I had already created the outline, and didn't feel like changing the direction the series was going, however in the future I will pay more mind to this feedback. In the meantime, I will provide a warning for when the good times end for the reader. Thank you for supporting my works.

Series List

Note: Finale Chapter, mostly ties loose ends

Frank was dead. 

Bucky thought to share this news with you on the car ride home, he said the ambulance didn’t get to the apartment on time, but something told you that he had something to do with it, considering how nonchalant his voice sounded.

When you started crying you couldn’t stop, and this annoyed Bucky beyond reason. 

“Bequiet, there are plenty of reasons to not cry, like the old asian lady,”

You could hear the thinly veiled threat in his voice, and did your best to smother your tears by devoting your full attention to the newborn in your arms. 

It was a boy. 

Bucky wanted to name him James Jr. but you shut that idea down when you said you preferred Frank. 

His fists had clenched, but he compromised when you mentioned that you liked the name Finn. 

You chose this name because there was a show, The adventures of Finn and Jake, that you and Frank had binged together. You briefly remembered him mentioning that it was definitely one of his favorites, and you felt a sense of  triumph that you still got to give your child a name with a relation to Frank, without Bucky knowing. 

Bucky didn’t know this, and he probably never would.

Although he still insisted on giving the baby his surname, and asserted that the second name should be James. 

Finn James Barnes. 

How awkward, but you relented.

When you do get to his house, you immediately see Lily, in the living room, watching TV with a somber look on her face. She looks up, and when she makes eye contact with you, her face sours. She quickly unlocks the wheels of her chair and rolls away. 

“She has nowhere else to go, so I’m letting her stay as long as she needs,” he explains.

“That’s none of my business, I plan on going back home with my baby as soon as I recover,” you reply.

“What home?” he asks. 

“My home,” you sit on the couch and find that Lily had been watching ‘The adventures of Finn and Jake’. You freeze to  keep yourself from chuckling at the irony, the moment, however, bittersweet.

“Alright, let's get some things straight, first, this is your home, I’ve already taken care of the apartment.”

Your back straightens “How-”

“It’s not as hard as you think when we’re still married, especially with a crime happening in the unit.”

“We’re not married I-”

“You what?” he interrupts “If you’d like we can go to town hall to see if ANY divorce papers had been processed under your name, I don’t even think they received any paperwork to file,”

The more he opened his mouth the worse things seemed to get. 

“Right!,” he claps his hands together “And second, I don’t want you working, you’re staying home full time to take care of me and the baby. You may need to do a few things when it comes to Lily, but nothing excessive”

Before this entire debacle, you remembered Bucky used to be very adamant about you being a housewife/Stay-at-home mom. It’s why you had quit your job in the first place, and now it just makes you sick to your stomach, that out of everyone involved in this mess he got to keep his happy ending.

Many things happened since your return from the hospital, Bucky had forced you to visit your parents again. 

At first they were happy that they still had a grandchild after everything that had happened. But it seemed like they had placed the blame on you for what happened to Lily. How it wasn’t fair that you got to keep your baby and she was forced to stay stagnant. 

You told Bucky you wanted to disown them and you didn’t want them around your baby anymore. 

To your surprise, he completely agreed. 

Bucky had a state of the art nursery built for the Baby, complete with a thumbprint scanner that regulated who could come in and out.

When you first found out you thought that maybe this was to prevent Lily from hurting Finn, since she had no access. But as they got into more details. 

It turns out that you lost access to the room between 10 pm and 5 am, and if the baby wasn’t in bed by 9:30 pm the room would set off an alarm. 

Only Bucky was allowed in the room 24/7 and he was the only one who was able to disengage or override the alarm.

The only time you were allowed to have access in a 24 hr period was when Bucky went out for a mission, which was rare. And when he did the entire house was on lockdown until he came back.

You asked what would happen to them if he never came back, or if an emergency occurred, and all he said was that there were parameters in place for those situations.

And Lily, poor idiotic Lily. 

She was angry with you for the longest time, during which you kept Finn as far away as possible when you had to deal with her. 

It was a Sunday, and Bucky had been out on a two day mission, which meant that the house was on lockdown. 

You were bringing Lily her dinner, and you noticed her face was wet from crying.

“You ruined my life,” she said, tears running down her cheeks and falling from her chin. 

This made you angry, throughout this entire situation the only thing you were willing to take responsibility for was Frank’s death. You felt that had you not provoked Bucky, he might still be alive, living his life and you said as much. 

“And you had to keep the baby too?” she responds.

“You stupid bitch” you whispered, and she gasped, never having had your anger directed at her “ Had you not cheated on Frank, or slept with Bucky when I opened my home to you,you would have never landed in this position.”

“You are a complete fuck up, you walk around setting fires and burning bridges in everyones life, and act like you’re completely innocent.” you cross your arms.” Now, Frank-,” your voice broke speaking out his name “-is dead'' you whispered “and you can’t walk”

You got in her face “You have no one else to blame for your situation but yourself” You dropped her food on her desk and walked away slamming the door on your way out.

Lily had gone mute after that. Choosing to roll around as an empty shell instead of facing the chaos that she caused. You felt terrible, and a part of you wished you could just take it back and allow her to live in her delusional headspace. 

As soon as you were able to, Bucky made sure that you would complete your wifely duties to the fullest.

It started 2 weeks after you arrived at his home, he pinned you down and fucked you into submission throughout the night. And every night after about a month you fought back until you realized that your situation was futile. 

Tonight, as he took you from behind, pulling out all sorts of sounds from you, you couldn’t help but think that this was not what you wanted for your life. You never expected to be so miserable in such an expensive house, in a beautifully decorated master bedroom, on top of upscale Egyptian cotton sheets. 

He removed himself from you so that he could turn you to face him. Once he re-entered your cunt, his lips quickly found yours, and you could feel him reaching his climax. 

Kissing. 

You never expected someone like Bucky to be so turned on by kissing that it would push him over the edge. But everytime, it worked without fail. 

When he was done violating you, he’d wrap you in his arms, and fall asleep, as if you were some Happy couple. 

The next morning, you rushed to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach. You didn’t know how long you sat over the toilet, but it wasn’t long before Bucky had a hand rubbing circles around your back and a pregnancy test in your face. 

You looked up to see his signature shit-eating grin, and your heart dropped to your stomach. 

You didn’t know if you could do this again.

End.

Taglist:

@cjand10 @lovely-geek @vicmc624

@stuffyownswrld @buckysmainhxe @goobysgoobers

@chemtrails-club @buckystevelove @kentokaze @notlive06

@bruher @lovely-geek @bluebluesoblue @pattiemac1

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Charles de Gaulle found the memory of D-Day so painful that he refused to participate in commemorations of the Normandy invasion during his 11 years as president of France. He did not invite heads of government to mark either the 20th anniversary in 1964 or the 25th in 1969. Old soldiers saluted; ambassadors laid wreaths.

President Dwight Eisenhower had tried to salve the French hurt in the statement he released for the 10th anniversary in 1954. The statement did not mention the United States or its armed forces. It praised by name three British commanders, three French, one Soviet—no Americans. It credited the victory to “the joint labors of cooperating nations,” and said “it depended for its success upon the skill, determination and self-sacrifice of men from several lands.” You might want to read it as a prophylactic antidote to the boast and bombast likely to fill the air today.

The experience of liberation was a complex thing for almost every country that experienced it from 1943 to 1945, but perhaps nowhere more than France. In the American imagination of 1944, France exists as a throng of cheering, welcoming faces, as women kissing GIs, as a landscape through which Allied tanks and trucks roar on their way to Germany. Depending on our mood, we romanticize the Resistance or excoriate collaborators—seldom caring to remember how ambiguously collaboration and resistance often blended together, or how often collaborators and resisters were the same people at different phases of the war or even different times of the same day.

To be liberated, first you must be defeated.

Everything about these D-Day anniversaries reminds the French of that humiliating sequence. When de Gaulle landed in Normandy for a one-day visit on June 14, he traveled back-and-forth across the English Channel in a British warship. De Gaulle’s ability to establish a provisional government depended on the permission of U.S. and British authorities—and so, ultimately, would the even more fraught question whether France would be accepted again as a major ally.

For four years, Vichy France had supplied and aided Germany. Vichy planes had bombed Gibraltar in 1940; Vichy tax collectors had extracted resources to pay the German occupiers. When Italy changed sides in 1943, it was treated as a liberated nation—but it was not accepted as a co-belligerent. France’s post-D-Day status utterly depended on British and American goodwill. For a man like de Gaulle, that dependency rankled.

De Gaulle’s famous speech of August 25, 1944, after the liberation of Paris, starkly reveals the fictions that would restore French pride.

“Paris! Paris outraged! Paris broken! Paris martyred! But Paris liberated! Liberated by itself, liberated by its people with the help of the French armies, with the support and the help of all France, of the France that fights, of the only France, of the real France, of the eternal France! … It will not even be enough that we have, with the help of our dear and admirable Allies, chased him from our home for us to consider ourselves satisfied after what has happened. We want to enter his territory as is fitting, as victors.”

France did enter Germany as a victor. French armies, supplied by the United States, subordinate to U.S. command, were stood up in 1944–45. France was allotted an occupation zone in Germany and awarded a permanent seat on the UN Security Council. (Italy was not even invited to join the United Nations until 1955.) Allied officialdom agreed to believe de Gaulle’s story that the France that fought Nazi Germany was the only real France.

But everyone understood the story was not true. The French military defeat in 1940 had torn apart social wounds dating back decades and longer. Conservative and Catholic France reinterpreted the battles of 1940 as a debacle only of the liberal and secular France that had held the upper hand since the founding of the Third Republic in 1871 and especially since the Dreyfus affair that began in 1894. When the reactionary French writer Charles Maurras was sentenced to life imprisonment for collaboration, he supposedly replied, “It’s the revenge of Dreyfus.”

Most French business leaders and civil servants collaborated out of opportunism or necessity. The Germans held hundreds of thousands of captured French soldiers as hostages for years after 1940. But more than a few leading French people, including many intellectuals and churchmen, collaborated out of a species of conviction. A French cardinal led the recruitment of French volunteers to fight alongside the Germans in Russia in 1941. “How can I, in a moment so decisive, refuse to approve the common noble enterprise directed by Germany, dedicated to liberate Russia from the bonds that have held it for the last twenty-five years, suffocating its old human and Christian traditions, to free France, Europe, and the world from the most pernicious and most sanguinary monster that mankind has ever known, to raise the peoples above their narrow interests, and to establish among them a holy fraternity revived from the time of the Christian Middle Ages?” Cardinal Alfred Baudrillart wrote, in his endorsement of the Anti-Bolshevik Legion.

The loss of the war against Germany enabled such people to launch a much more congenial culture war at home, to purge France of “liberty, equality, and fraternity,” the slogan of 1789, and establish in its place “work, family, fatherland,” the slogan of Vichy. Since 1905, France had been defined as a secular state. The Catholic Church had been reduced to one sect among others: Protestant, Jewish, even Muslim. (In 1920, the French government had subsidized the building of a grand mosque in thanks for the First World War service of Muslim troops. The great military cemetery near Verdun has a special section for Muslim soldiers, their graves angled away from the others in order to face Mecca.)

Vichy put an end to all that. The defeat of France by Germany was ideologically reinterpreted as a victory of “deep France” over a shallow liberal metropolitan veneer. Subjugation was reinterpreted by Vichy ideologues as redemption. Enmity was shifted from the occupying Germans to the liberal commercial “Anglo-Saxons.” Vichy propagandists produced cartoons in which Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, and Popeye were depicted dropping bombs on France at the behest of Jewish masters.

Anti-Allied enmity was not difficult to stoke: Allied bombing before 1944 and Allied land forces after 1944 did more damage to French cities than the Germans had in the few weeks of combat in 1940. The port of Le Havre was bombed 132 times from 1940 to 1944. The final raids in September reduced the city center to rubble, killing 5,000, maiming and rendering homeless tens of thousands more. The modernist cityscape that replaced the former 18th- and 19th-century core remains an enduring monument to the price paid by the French people for their liberation.

Vichyite enthusiasm for anti-liberalism opened a strange fluidity in French politics during and after the war. The future leader of French socialism, François Mitterrand, began his political career on the far right of French politics and worked until 1943 as a civil servant in the Vichy government. As president after 1981, Mitterrand would raise minimum wages, cut the workweek to 39 hours, nationalize some financial institutions, and end the death penalty. He would even do what de Gaulle could never stomach: celebrate the D-Day anniversary.

It was Mitterrand who decided to invite Ronald Reagan to Normandy in 1984, where Reagan delivered one of the great speeches of his presidency. Yet Mitterrand, to the end of his career, remained friends with—and protected from prosecution for crimes against humanity��the Vichy police chief who deported tens of thousands of Jews to their death.

But the chief was not the only one protected, and Mitterrand was not the only protector. As the French journalist René Rémond quipped to Roger Cohen of The New York Times: “They all have something to hide.”

When Americans choose to remember this sad history, they do so from the privilege of an easier geography. As time has separated us from the Second World War, U.S. memories have become more triumphalist and self-aggrandizing. It is a remarkable thing to watch President Donald Trump’s preening and posing in the U.K. and France on this anniversary. France fell in 1940 in great part because the United States went AWOL from European peace and security after 1919. The U.S. was AWOL very much because of leaders who in their day espoused the same crass protectionism and isolationism—and even the same “America First” slogan—as Trump himself. . .

[faeriedaez]

I don't know. I do feel better now. Catharsis, I guess! But it's interesting to me, it's always been interesting to me really, how when you walk away you give up any control of the narrative. Feelings will change and inform the memory once you've turned your back.

I've always struggled with the delusion that every situation could have been solved with the right combination of words at the right time. But I really can't shake the feeling. If during those late nights in your room I had told you the kinds of things he was saying to me on a daily basis, how would this story have gone? Or when I had asked you to please reach out and get involved, if I was more forthcoming about how overwhelmed and over my head I was feeling how might we have tackled this together? Or if I had admitted these regrets earlier, how much more human might I seem to you two? An obsession with hindsight, I guess. Like in most cases, it always seems a question of who fires first. Often, that's it. Once they've set the narrative it's an uphill battle to change it. Now I'm the bitch, and even when I sit here begging one of you to tell me what exactly I actually did wrong, I'm told it's clear I'm unwilling to learn from this. It's a bit ironic that I can list more of my own faults in this debacle than you can and still get told that.

It's funny you know, because I did it on purpose. I never wanted to talk about him to you all behind his back. I never wanted to be responsible for changing how you all saw him, the way I felt forced to. (Besides, he never liked me telling folks he hardly knew. Can't imagine he'd have liked me telling y'all.) At the same time, I knew he'd never extend me the same favor. Honestly, I even encouraged him not to. I desperately needed him to have SOMEONE to vent to about me that wasn't ya know... me! By time we had broken up, I was already deep in the sinking feeling of who was getting the two of you in the divorce. After all, me and you never could fix things after the move. If I understand correctly we were both waiting for the other to fix it. Which is pretty classically us, to be honest. As for me and you well, at times it felt like you could hardly tolerate being in the same room as me. I'm not so proud that I can't admit a lot of that was likely just in my head but it was how I felt. Dyke drama is a hell of a drug.

So if I saw this coming, and even sat idly by and let it happen, why then is it such a hard pill for me to swallow? Well for one knowing a train is coming doesn't make it hurt any less when it hits you, even if you could have gotten off the tracks. Secondly, I suppose I always expected you all to have SOME understanding, or at least SOME curiosity, of the other side of the story. Why I might have done what I did. That you all at least might get that I had given up, not because I didn't care about the two of you, but because he needed the two of you more than I did. That we might never be close the way we used to, but there wouldn't be bad blood after I withdrew from the group as a unit. But I know I have always assumed myself more transparent than I am. I'm told that's an autism trait.

I guess, what I really didn't expect was frustrations and emotions I had admitted to him about the greater situation, long before we had broken up, to make their way to the two of you. That much really did take me off guard. It's honestly funny. Hilarious, even. Like really Stephen, you're lucky I'm not playing, because we BOTH know that isn't a game you'd fucking win. But I grew up surrounded by people who played those sorts of games and I lost my taste for them fairly quickly. I learned pretty early on that if it works on someone, then that someone is worthless to me. If even after 8 odd years hearing I had committed the thought-crime of not having enough fun while trying to help hold the group together puts enough bitter in your stomach to write me off as some bitch well then, what would I ever want from you but closure? Closure I can get just as cleanly by making a vaugepost that likely neither of you will see but HE might.

So that's it. I won't pretend I'm not going to miss us and miss you all, but I will keep moving on regardless, hopefully wiser for whatever comes next. It helps I think, that I had mourned this possibility so long ago. Perhaps, that's another way I contributed to this outcome, a defeatist attitude is a self-fulfilling prophecy after all. But believe it or not, before that little spat at pride, I really still thought the 4 of us would all work it out in the end. That someday we'd be playing elf-games, confiding in each other again and this would all be some awkward period we could leave behind us. But that little explosion was the final nail in the coffin of me ever trusting him again, and if I could never be comfortable with him, we would never be the four of us again. That was all I meant by leaving the group chat. I tried to make it clear I wasn't writing ANY of you off by leaving, honestly not even him. The future is a long stretch and someday he and I might one day trust each other again. But whatever the future looked like, it wasn't going to be us four. But hey, who can blame you for shooting the messenger.

peace ✌️

[the-scientist-blog]

The “red alert” of March 19, 2024, as detailed in the last post, continued to preoccupy my state of being as did the American border immigration crisis. And I began to consider our nation’s homeless people and realized again there is no time to waste in the transition from dirty energy to clean energy.

A small fraction of America’s homelessness challenge is a result of undocumented migration stemming from economic disasters around the world. True, not so much now, but can you picture how much greater the world sidewalk tent encampment situation will be if there were hundreds of thousands of thirsty, starved human beings clawing to get into our country, in Canada and Europe, seeking survival because where they were born is unlivable? In my mind this is chill inducing.

This will be reality a few decades from now because we are already too late to curb a warming planet in time to allow the southern continents to be mostly habitable. To a certain extent, the climate relocation calamity has already begun. I believe what we are witnessing at our Southern border is NOTHING compared to what lies ahead. As a nation, we are unprepared to deal with what is currently happening on the other side of the border. So how can we possibly adjust to what’s coming unless our government gets its immigration act together? Even then, a humanitarian crisis will unfold as we watch recordings of destitute people scramble for food, water and shelter on the other side of an unbreachable wall. The hundreds of tons of relief pallets that our nation donated to the Gaza tragedy pales in comparison to what will be required during the next decades across the Rio Grande, the Nogales border and the CA border. No amount of legal immigration vetting can prevent the illegal crossings that can take place on our surrounding boundaries. A mid-April, 2024 filmed boat landing in Carlsbad, CA serves notice as a dozen illegals jumped out and disappeared in the city - and some had cars waiting. Customs and Border Protection of San Diego reports that since 2020, in California alone, maritime smuggling is up by almost 140%. Many of our coastal citizens believe migrants simply get dropped off and dwell in the neighborhoods. The San Diego region has seen 185,000+ encounters so far this YEAR, up 70% from the prior year.

In 2023 alone, 124,000 legal immigrants moved into California: 42% Asian and 38% Central American. This is why the net population was up. At some point in time the United States of America will be overwhelmingly populated by immigrants seeking a sustainable life. Yet, how do we say no to human survival? Our lawmakers will be in a quandary unless they learn how to cooperate with one another way ahead of this pending human debacle. Do we wait 50-60 years like we waited to witness climate change? How can we get around this? My answer: Begin each day visualizing your future while thinking of a positive, healing environmental movement. A united climate action spirit will do wonders for getting us where we must be. The forthcoming wave of human migration spurred by the Southern hemisphere warming requires a precise plan of response.  I shudder to think how our current government and corporate leaders will agree on a master plan. To date, U.S. immigration law is extremely complicated and confusing for all involved....

[mud-castle]

(Same nonny) I also saw that Hawk/Squilf would happen as an arranged union, which I am v curious about, especially bc you said the “drama is spicy there”. May I have the tea? Also, who would Dove/Ivy’s second parent be? And - sorry for the question bombardment - are arranged unions commonplace in the DM clans?

Bombard me, I beg.

I'm noticing that I'm treating the clans like miniature kingdoms more and more in Dark Mirror, lol.

The whole thing is messy af right now due to serious timeline issues I'm trynna work out but:

Basically, Leopardstar is on the thinnest of ice with Misty after the whole Tigerclan debacle. Honestly, she's barely treading ice-water with Misty. Leopard's refusal to go with the clans until the last possible minute mostly do to her pride was the last straw. Maybe Reedwhisker is taken or something. So Misty goes to TC and Fire is more than happy to aid.

Having both worked together to take down Tigerstar and Leopardstar, they're like "yo, we should like officially align." or maybe they get a sign or something who knows. This is basically the only legal way half-clan cats can be born.

Anywayyy, the end result is Hawkfrost (eligible because he's deputy) and Squilf (eligible because she's the leader's daughter) getting cat married. Squilf especially does not appreciate this.

Anyway the deed is done and Leaf returns to the clans. A mess of things happen, Leaf discovers she is preggers and leaves the clans a bit before the three are born (partially because she's preggers, but for a number of other reasons.)

Now this area is extremely messy, but it's my favorite. For background, Leaf has always been the favorite. She has a calm mind, and strong presence. Whereas Squilf only has one of those things and is highly prone to impulsivity. Squilf feels she's not treated with the proper respect. So, when Squilf turns out to be barren and knows Leaf is about to have kits, she strikes out on her own and steals the Three. Which is the start of their sibling rivalry to actual enemies arc.

There's also a bit of a parallel with Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw in there. One being the respected deputy of Riverclan, the other a social pariah turned exile, both with the same father. Actually...there could be quite a bit of that with Hawk v Moth and Bramble v Tawny too. Maybe I'll have Moth join Leaf's cause then hmmm.....

Idk who Dove/Ivy's second parent would be tbh. I'm open to suggestions tho.

Arranged unions are made in the case of an alliance between two clans, but with extra assurance. It's a deeper form of allyship. Generally made between the leaders themselves, leaders' kids, the deputy, or a high-ranking warrior with the ability to become deputy. Tiger & Leopard should've gotten married, which should've been everyone's first tip that something was up with this whole uniting thing. No, it's not common, but it is quite binding and shameful for a clan to break.

[greatwesternway]

Traintober Day 3: Twins - 9901 and 9902

An excerpt from the upcoming installment of The Future is Still Silver and Black:

I hesitate to guess at what 9901 would say to being told he was special for not having a name though. I suspect his manners would have failed him.

He and 9902 were a little unlucky to be built when they were. They weren’t first so they didn’t get the benefit of it that I did and they came too early to be themed the way The Mark Twain Zephyr was. Then they got bumped from their route by Pegasus and Zephyrus’ larger, themed trains. Those two became the New Twin Cities Zephyrs and the original twins were given their own separate routes. 9901 wasn’t very happy about it because while he was getting his own route, this was also just after my train had been given our new name. I think most engines would be satisfied to have a named route at all, but with us Zephyrs and how many names we’ve all been given between us, it becomes a sticky subject if you’ve come out short. 9902 was just happy to be able to accommodate his demand again. He was always the more sensible of the two of them.

They were twins, but I do not think this is similar to having a B-unit. 9901 and 9902 only ever operated together on exhibition runs before they entered revenue service. The day before their christening, they did one with forty-four sets of twins riding their trains to Chicago, one half of each pair on each train. Once they were in service though, I don’t imagine they saw much of each other. They’d run the route from opposite ends twice a day, so they’d only have had brief passings.

After Pegasus and Zephyrus took over The Twin Cities Zephyr route, 9901 was sent to Texas to work on the Burlington-Rock Island to pull their Sam Houston Zephyr. From what I heard, he became much less crabby about names when he was actually working a route of his own. You’d hope it’d be the pride of having a named route all to himself that turned him around, but I wonder if it wasn’t actually because he got that special nose herald that said “Sam Houston Zephyr” instead of “Burlington Route”. You know how important identity is for us Zephyrs, after all. 

9902 got an “Alton-Burlington” nose herald for his Ozark State Zephyr in Missouri until they sent him down to the B-RI too. He and 9901 had to share routes again, but they had two between them so it wasn’t such a debacle as it had been when they were both The Twin Cities Zephyr. One of them would be the Sam Houston Zephyr and the other would be the Texas Rocket, with nose heralds to show which.

Unfortunately, the B-RI wasn’t taking as good care of them as Burlington itself would have. From what I gathered over time (because you know how cagey our people can be when things go wrong), 9901 had a lot of oil build-up under his trucks and something set it on fire. They couldn’t get the blaze under control and 9901 was burnt inside and out, completely irreparable. I mentioned before that this was right after that FT smashed into my observation car 570. Because 9901 had to be stricken from the roster but his cars were only a little burnt, they thought to replace my observation car with his. They decided not to do that in the end and instead his cars were kept in storage in case I, 9902, or Injun Joe might need them on our trains.

After all that, B-RI ended up giving 9902 back to Burlington to replace 9901. And ironically, he ended up with a route named just for him! No one ever mentions it really, but he was given a route between Chicago and Ottumwa, Iowa and they called it the Zephyr 9902. When they moved him to the Chicago-Hannibal route, they renamed it Zephyr 9902 too so it was almost like it was his train that had the name. I think if 9901 had still been around for that, he’d have been so jealous he’d have gone up in flames again. But they also sometimes nicknamed 9902 the “Baby Zephyr” because of how big the Denver and California Zephyr trains were by then so maybe not!

I am being told that I have gone on very long about 9901 and 9902, but I almost feel obliged. They get overlooked, but how would we have known we needed a train as grand as yours for that route without their shorter trains on it first? They had the same problem I always did, that our train became too popular to fit everyone who wanted to ride.

[mariacallous]

At first glance, the Silicon Valley Bank debacle seems to be a cut-and-dried financial caper. The executives running the 16th-largest bank in the US made the wrong choices in handling what seemed a fortuitous situation—a roster of clients, flush with venture capital funding, handing over billions of dollars of cash for storage in the institution's coffers. But the bank’s leaders misjudged the risks of higher interest rates and inflation. Pair that with a mini tech downturn, and the bank’s spreadsheets began turning colors. When word of its perilous situation got out, panicky depositors pulled their money. After a government takeover, everyone’s money was safe. 

But although no depositor lost money, the saga looks like a traumatic event whose consequences will linger for months, or even years. Things happened that we can’t unsee. The SVB saga reminds me of what my wife, a true-crime reporter, says when people ask why she finds murder stories so interesting. A killing, she’d say, reveals the previously private, shrouded actions that define the way people live. In the course of investigating the crime, lives that looked ideal from the outside are exposed as unmade beds of secrets and lies. 

Start with the bank. As has been widely reported—only now with a critical eye—Silicon Valley Bank was not only the bank of choice among Silicon Valley companies, but an ingratiating cheerleader for startup culture. The VCs and angels funding new companies would routinely send entrepreneurs to the bank, which often handled both company accounts and the personal finances of founders and executives. SVB would party with tech people—and vintners, another sector they were deep into. Some bankers had wine fridges in their offices. Salud!

Normally, you’d have to hold my family hostage before I became a banker—I picture the buttoned-up prig who hired Mary Poppins. But I might think differently if banking were a world of parties, high-end Cabernets, and elbow-rubbing with universe-denting geniuses who keep millions in the bank and take out mega-mortgages. By all accounts, SVB shared and perhaps amplified the freewheeling vibe of the swashbucklers it served. This is not what you necessarily want from a fiduciary. And as we learned this week, SVB’s CEO reportedly indulged in one of the worst things a founder can do—selling off stock when trouble lies ahead. 

 When that trouble arrived, we also learned a lot about the investment lords of the Valley who give founders the millions they need to move fast and make things. As word began to leak of SVB’s weaknesses, VCs who style themselves as tech’s smartest people had a choice: help bolster the financial partner holding the industry’s assets or pull funds immediately. The latter course would trigger a panic that would assure disaster for the startup ecosystem—but not you, because you were first in line. 

Despite years of talk about how companies in the tech world are united in a beneficial joint mission, some of the biggest players went into self-preservation mode, essentially firing the starting pistol for a bank run. One notable bailout leader was Peter Thiel’s Founders Fund, which got an early sense of SVB’s troubles and advised all its companies to get out ASAP. As word spread, a classic bank run took shape, with other VC firms urging pullouts, until it was impossible to connect online with SVB to move funds. By the time a group of VCs came together to pledge support for SVB, its virtual doors were shut. In the mad rush to the lifeboats, hundreds of companies were stranded on deck. When the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC) took over Silicon Valley Bank last Friday, with all activity frozen, those whose holdings in the bank far exceeded the $250,000 limit on insured accounts truly faced the abyss.

I get it—saving one’s own skin is human nature. But in the future, let’s go easy on hyping the camaraderie of tech. 

And what did the Valley’s rugged individuals do when oblivion loomed? They begged for a government rescue, of course. It’s hard not to empathize with some of the rank and file tech workers, many of them far from California, who wouldn’t be able to meet their bills. And indeed, there were some acts of generosity, as investors extended loans to their portfolio companies. But the loudest voices urging bailouts didn’t seem to be those most in jeopardy, but super-rich investors and speculators likeself-described angel investor Jason Calacanis, PayPal mafia billionaire David Sacks, and Machiavellian hedge fund magnate Bill Ackman, bombing Twitter with over-the-top pleas to rescue depositors.

Their case was that if depositors didn’t have immediate access to their funds, SVB’s woes might be “contagious,” setting off a wider bank panic. A reasonable concern. But it’s unlikely these pundits would have made the same arguments if the institution in question were some regional bank of similar size in the Midwest. Some people arguing for a federal bailout had previously opined that the government should keep its tentacles away from the innovative geniuses of the Valley.

The spectacle is particularly ironic because a huge part of startup lore is not just accepting risk but embracing it. We hear endlessly of the bravery of entrepreneurs who step into the breach and put millions of dollars in jeopardy, hoping to buck the dismal odds of creating a difference-making company that, by the way, makes its founders ludicrously wealthy. It’s part of the game to lose your investor’s money and a couple of years of your life because you felt that a $400 juice machine would be the next iPhone. 

Now those noble risk-takers were demanding retroactive protection—because tech-company money was unavailable due to a totally avoidable risk. Any idiot knows that FDIC covers only $250,000. So why did so many firms store all their assets in uninsured accounts in a single bank? You might give a pass to naive founders who blindly accepted the recommendation of their funders to use Silicon Valley Bank. (Though maybe not to big companies like Roku, which had $487 million on deposit in SVB.) But what’s the excuse of those who did the recommending? Did they notice that SVB executives actively lobbied to avoid stringent regulation? Or that for eight months, SVB failed to replace its retired chief risk officer? Did they understand that an entire startup monoculture patronizing one bank made a huge industry dependent on a single point of failure?

Meanwhile, less verbose investors and VCs quietly worked behind the scenes on convincing the FDIC to guarantee all deposits. One of the Valley’s top seed investors, Ron Conway, reportedly even got Vice President Kamala Harris on the phone to hear his plea for a depositor bailout. The case they made for protecting funds from a maximum $250,000 to, well, infinity, was a more refined version of what the Twitter panics-spreaders were saying: It would stem a collapse in the tech sector and calm people all over the country who were suddenly worried about their own banks’ stability. (It would also mean that from this point forward, holding to the limit is indefensible.) It’s not clear whether the lobbying affected the actual decision. But the attempts were unseemly, an unattractive display of the power of this massive industry. 

So what has been uncovered in the week since we learned that Silicon Valley Bank was no more trustworthy than a crypto spam text? A startup culture once considered the gem of the economy has been exposed as careless with its money, clueless in its judgment of character, hypocritical in its ideology, and ruthless in exercising its political clout as a powerful special interest. Meanwhile, the financial world is still jittery, with other banks failing and just about everyone wondering what comes next. And from here on, the concept of a cap on FDIC insurance is at risk. But at least the SVB credit cards are working again. And VCs can take a victory lap as they brag about how they saved the day.