#survivor cafe

[jacensolodjo]

The Alphabet of Inadequate Language

A is for Auschwitz, where more than a million were gassed and then burned into ash. The word that could speak for everything that follows. A is for ARBEIT MACHT FREI, the words on the gates of Auschwitz. WORK MAKES YOU FREE. Except that the phrase is untranslatable, like so much else. A is for Atrocity. A is for Armenian Genocide, words that are illegal to say aloud in Turkey. A is for Atom bomb. B is for Buchenwald, where my father and my uncle were imprisoned yet did not die. B is for Bergen-Belsen, where Anne Frank did die. B is for Belzec, where half a million were murdered. B is for Babyn Yar, the ravine and largest-known mass grave. B is for Birkenau, the “sister” to Auschwitz. C is for Concentration Camp. C is for Crematoria. C is for Collaboration. C is for Communism. C is for Churchill. C is for Cambodia. C is for Children. One and a half million murdered children. Also the Hidden Children, and the Child Survivors. D is for Dictator. D is for Dachau. D is for Death Camp. D is for Death’s Head Insignia. D is for Deutschland. D is for Denial.

E is for Eichmann. E is for Extermination. E is for Einsatzgruppen, mobile killing squads. E is for Ethnic Cleansing. E is for Euphemism. F is for Final Solution. F is for Führer. F is for Fatherland. F is for Forgetting, which both is and is not the opposite of Remembering. G is for Gestapo. G is for Gas Chamber. G is for Goering. G is for Germany. G is for Ghetto. G is for Genocide. H is for Holocaust. H is for Hitler. H is for Himmler. H is for Höss. H is for Homosexual. H is for Hutu. H is for Hiroshima. I is for Identity Card. I is for Immigrant. I is for Ideology. I is for I Don’t Know How to Go On like This but I Cannot Stop Because the Words Keep Coming. J is for Jew. J is for Jude. J is for Jehovah’s Witnesses. J is for JEDEM DAS SEINE, words on the gate of Buchenwald. TO EACH HIS DUE. K is for Kristallnacht. K is for Khmer Rouge and for Killing Fields. K is for Konzentrationslager. L is for Lager. L is for Lynching. L is for Liquidation. As in, the liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto and the Lodz Ghetto and the Vilna Ghetto, where my mother and her parents were forced to live before they escaped to a hiding place in the Polish countryside. M is for Mengele. M is for Mauthausen. M is for Maidanek. M is for Murder, Memory, Massacre, Motherland. N is for Nuclear Bomb and Neutron Bomb. N is for Nagasaki. N is for Neighbors, the ones who hid Jews and the ones who denounced Jews or denounced other neighbors for hiding Jews. N is for Nuremberg. The place of the trials. The place of a nearly impossible quest for justice. N is for Nazi. O is for Oven. O is for Other. P is for Pogrom. P is for Prisoner. P is for Parade. P is for Ponary, the forest near Vilna where 100,000 Jews were executed. P is for Poland, once home to more than 2 million Jews. P is for Perished. Q is for Quarantine. Q is for Questions That Have No Answer. R is for Reich. R is for Roma, whose numberless dead have never fully been mourned. R is for Rwanda. R is for Romania, the birthplace of my father’s father and the citizenship that saved my father’s life. R is for Relocation. R is for Refugee. R is for Roosevelt. S is for SS, for Stormtrooper. S is for Shoah. S is for Sachsenhausen and for Sobibor. S is for Stalin and for Synagogue and for Soap. S is for Sola, the ash-filled river at the edges of Auschwitz. S is for Sonderkommando, the special detail of prisoners forced to work in the gas chambers and crematoria. S is for Selektion. S is for Stolpersteine and for Secrets. S is for Silence. T is for Treblinka. T is for Theresienstadt. T is for Tattoo. T is for Twins, whom Mengele chose for special experiments. T is for the Thousand-Year Reich, for Terror, Trauma, Tenacity. T is for Tutsi. U is for Uprising. U is for Underground. U is for Über Alles. U is for U-boat. U is for Undesirable. U is for Understatement. V is for Vichy. V is for Victory. V is for Victim. V is for Vanquished. V is for Vietnam, the name of a country. V is for Veteran.

W is for Warsaw. W is for Wehrmacht. W is for War, and War, and War. X is for X. For everything that cannot be expressed in words, for each and every name of the dead that may have been forgotten. X is for Xenophobia, fear of the stranger, the Other. Y is for Yiddish, the almost-lost language. Y is for You, the one reading this alphabet and all the ones yet to be born. Z is for Zyklon B, the gas used to murder millions of men, women, and children in Auschwitz.

Now go back to the beginning. See under: A.

Survivor Cafe by Elizabeth Rosner

[rad-roche]

taking another stab at the oil paint tools with gloria. still have to wrap my head around them, but i had a lot of fun doing this!

halfway through i accidentally merged my sketch into the actual painting, so that required me to get a little. Inventive. not included is the audio of me swearing when i realised

[kaneidae]

A lil fanart for @humminmoth's Cafetober comics where he was kind enough to include my character Wu (left). Go read them!!! They're good

[dizzieartist]

Wanna play? 💜

[meglinpancake]

drink about anybody else but you

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

#Order 6: Why is King Crimson?

Ok, give it a try.

You know when I eventually go back to Freedom Cafe in America, this might end up sticking.

I don’t see the problem. I’ve taken enough orders; you have a go.

Alright, alright, I’m on it.

*Maya slides in towards a table.

Welcome to Canzanilla Cafe, can I take yer ooooorder~?

Kyah! Cool greeting Maya!

Oh, hey! Leona!

Fancy seeing you here. Guess it makes sense that you’d come popping by the...

Oh!

Huh?

*Kuripa suddenly notices who else is looking at the table.

Greetings.

H-Hello.

Hi!

Hey guys! Nice to see you all!

Oh, this is great! Now I don’t have to go through the trouble of introducing Leona to you. Looks like you’ve all already met.

This is an interesting and...wide range of people...How do you know each other?

Maya. Meet Hifumi, Ryota and Iroha. Hifumi works in Branch 3, Ryota is the leader of Branch 10, and Iroha is another one of Kokichi’s staff members.The four of us together are part of a little manga and anime club called the Kyojin’s. We meet up on occassion to discuss weeb shit.

Ah, yeah, I think you mentioned them to me before.

Kuripa told me about these guys and asked if I would be interested in joining.

Normally I would, but the commute would be difficult, and it’s too much of a hassle to keep booting up a PC to talk online.

But for what it’s worth, we’re having a really nice discussion now.

It is a shame though. We really could do with more girls in the group.

And it is interesting to become associated with one who draws manga from the west. You’re a rare find indeed.

Please don’t talk about her like she’s a collectors item.

I’m about finished here by the way.

*Iroha puts a manga she’s reading down on the table. Kuripa picks it up and inspects the cover.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind? Do you have the entire collection together?

I’m trying to put the collection together. This is what I’ve got so far. The Kyojin’s have helped me fill in the gaps and we’re taking turns reading it.

I wouldn’t say “reading.” We’re just flipping through it quickly and giving our thoughts and feelings. Typical club stuff you know? We just finished Part 5.

Ok...Overall thoughts?

Above everything else...I’m just really confused.

Yep, that is the reaction I expected...

Well, it’s JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. “Bizarre” is literally in the name. It’s going to be wacky.

Yeah, but this one is particularly wacky.

Which is weird because the main cast of this part is pretty cookie-cutter.

Hey!

I-I didn’t say I disliked them! I just think the other main casts had a bit more variety.

I have to agree with Hifumi. The quirkiest member of the main cast of Part 5 is Mista. Not just because of his detest for the number 4, but because his stand was so remarkably different from any other main characters before.

Other than that, they were all pretty traditional when it came to personality’s. Narancia was the goofy one, Bruno was the serious one, Fugo was the tragic one...See what I mean?

That’s not even mentioning how the whole thing ends. With Diavolo, I WOULD say “What a way to go out” but the way he went out was NOT a way I would have ever come up with, ever in my life.

It’s hard to tell whether the author is a genius or a maniac. I mean, all of the ideas he comes up with rarely make sense, but work, especially in this part.

I mean, think about it. A stand that can erase time. It just doesn’t make sense.

...Well...It KINDA does.

*Everyone looks at Iroha.

What do you mean?

Diavolo is the main villain of the series. Every other main villain in JoJo has a stand that either screws with reality or screws with time. King Crimson is no different.

Dio can stop time, Kira can time jump...It’s just natural progression.

May I just point out that the way Kuripa phrased it is what’s causing all the confusion.

King Crimson doesn’t just “erase time”. If it did, that WOULD be really simple.

But it’s not the case...He can also MOVE in the erased time. So if he’s in the erased time, he could punch someone, and then the damage would be caused, but no one would be consciences of it, because it technically never happened!

...

HUH!?

Ok ok! Wait just a second.

*Hifumi places his comic down on the table.

If the time “erased” as you put it, how does Diavolo move around in it?

If he can alter the time that he erased, doesn’t that effectively mean the time was...NOT erased?

Plus, that logic doesn’t make sense. If he was to punch someone in the erased time, they WOULDN’T feel the blow, because the time was erased, meaning the blow NEVER HAPPENED. If it never happened, how was he able to deal damage!?

Well that...I...

Oh, I don’t know!

And to think, that’s not even counting Epitaph. I mean...Epitaph isn’t it’s own stand, right? It’s like a stand ability?

Yes.

No.

...!

...!

Well...what the hell is it then!?

...I...I think we may have missed something.

Maybe we need to read it again?

Good idea. Mr Kurafto, would you be so kind?

Eeh...I dunno. I’d love to, but I’m kinda working...

Take a break then.

Huh?

I can take over things while you chat with your friends. And I think while you’re talking, I’m gonna go make you guys drinks.

Hell...I sense something dangerous coming, so I’m gonna get one for you too.

Oh, great idea. In that case, we’ll have...

[Later...]

*Hifumi places orders, and Maya eventually comes back to the group with everyone’s drinks. They’re crowded around, reading through the comics and trying to grasp the legitimacy of the King Crimson stand.

Thanks Maya, you’re the best.

...You know, I’m almost afraid to ask but...how’s progress going?

Ok, so here’s what I can gather so far. At it’s most simple, King Crimson’s power allows it to erase a 10 second segment of time. During those 10 seconds, King Crimson, and Diavolo, can move freely but can't affect anything.

So...he can see what’s going on in that 10 second period?

But then how does he attack?

He just attacks normally.

What do you mean he “attacks normally?”

Ugh!

*Kuripa turns the manga panel around and points to it.

When King Crimson erases the time, the time is also erased for Diavolo. What is shown in these little segments is Diavolo seeing what happened during the time that gets wiped. But he’s not doing anything. Because his action already happened.

But he erased the time, so I thought it didn’t happen!

No! For...gah!

So...not much progress then, huh?

What Kuripa means is this...

*Leona raises both of her pointer fingers.

This finger represents the point where King Crimson skips the time...And THIS finger represents what happens AFTER the time is skipped. Let’s say that during this time, if I had King Crimson’s ability and let’s say...I punched Maya in the face.

Oi! Don’t think I did anything wrong by you squirt!

If I use King Crimson’s ability to erase the time, that doesn’t mean what happened during that time didn’t happen. I still punched Maya, but she didn’t perceive it, or see it coming, because I cut out and deleted the moment my fist made contact with her face.

So...It STILL happened, it’s just that no one perceived it.

Not necessarily. DIAVOLO still perceived it.

*Leona points to a manga panel.

The segments where he’s shown moving around in the erased time are ACTUALLY him looking at what happened during the time that he erased. So here, in the final battle, he’s watching Mista fire bullets at him. This is showing what HAPPENED during the time that Diavolo used his stand to erase. It’s what WOULD have happened, not what DID happen.

Does that make sense?

Uh...lemme think about it.

Ok, I thought about it?

And?

No!

*sigh*

I need to point out that this goes back to Hifumi’s point from earlier. You said that the time is erased, but Diavolo still sees what happens in that erased time.And by the time the phase ends, what happened in that time still happened as a result, right?

Well, that would then mean that if all of the events still happened, the time WASN’T ERASED.

Now I’M confused.

I...look here...!

*Ryota grabs his volume and pulls up another panel.

During his encounter with Diavolo, Polnareff comes up with an idea to sense when his opponent has activated his ability. He cuts his hand, and lets it bleed, dripping on his trousers at a steady pace. He knows that Diavolo has used King Crimson because the number of blood spots on his trousers multiplies just out of nowhere.

If King Crimson’s real ability involved erasing the time, wouldn’t that mean that the dripping stops completely? Either that, or the blood just disappears entirely because Diavolo erased the part where Polnareff cut his hand.

Ok...First of all, that’s not how it works.

When is it ever?

LET ME FINISH. Diavolo can’t erase something that’s already happened.

Why not? If he can erase time, why doesn’t he just erase the part where Polnareff cut himself?

What good would that do!? He’s erasing the time in front of him so that he can get close to Polnareff without him perceiving it!

Like I said, Diavolo can’t interact with anything during the state of King Crimson, but he CAN move around. If he was to run behind Polnareff after this phase, he would still be behind Polnareff, in an advantageous position.

Why would Diavolo erase that part of history? It’s of no benefit to him; it just means Polnareff won’t remember his monologue and he wouldn’t have hurt his hand. 

That...ok, fair enough.

Even so, my original point stands. What you’re claiming to be time that’s been “erased” seems to be more time that’s been “skipped.” What happened in the “erased” time still happened, so it wasn’t “erased” at all. It was just skipped over.

Wait a second! So let me get this straight! Diavolo can’t interact with anything when he perceives the “erased” time. Right?

Yeah. 

The first time we ever see King Crimson’s ability is during the elevator scene, where Diavolo kidnaps Trish. Let’s use this bit for example. It doesn’t actually show things from Diavolo’s perspective, but the logic should still apply.

Pretend you’re the big man himself for a second. You have 10 seconds. What you do during that time is you infiltrate the elevator, kidnap Trish; specifically might I add, by amputating her hand so that Bruno, her escort, doesn’t notice immediately; carry her down the elevator shaft and make your exit.

That’s a lot of stuff to do in 10 seconds now that I think about it. How did he pull THAT off.

Time management in anime is bullshit. If a 5 minute death ball can take 18 episodes of Dragon Ball to blow up Namek, anything goes in that department.

Don’t bring DBZ logic into this, you’ll make things worse.

Agh...What’s your point Hifumi?

My POINT...is HOW did Trish’s hand get cut off?

Like I SAID. Just because the moment where Trish’s hand was cut off, and where she got knocked out, was erased, that doesn’t mean what happened didn’t happen.

But how did Diavolo do it? You said yourself that he can’t interact with anything in the 10 seconds that King Crimson’s ability is active, and as you can see in all the examples thus far, we never see him perform any such action. Trish’s hand gets cut off, and Diavolo kidnaps her, but WHY and HOW?

I...

Uh...Well...

You don’t know, do you?

Give me that manga, I’m gonna check something.

Oh Jesus...

[Much later...]

Alright, I think I got it!

*Everyone looks at Kuripa eagerly. After another 20 minutes of rereading the manga, as Maya continues to tend to the other customers, who look on at the gathering of weebs with confusion.

The whole thing of why and how it works. That’s where Epitaph comes in. Epitaph’s ability works in tandem with King Crimson to make the stand as deadly as it can be.

So it IS it’s own stand ability?

No!

Yes!

NO!

Is it, or is it not!?

Diavolo and Doppio may share a body, but they are two different people. It’s not out of the question that both their spirits may have different stands.

I...gah...Look...It’s easier to understand the ability’s if you think of them as two different stands. But that’s not it.

*Kuripa pulls up an earlier manga panel.

Epitaph works a bit like this. From the same part of the manga, Ghiaccio’s White Album. During the fight, Ghiaccio uses something called Gently Weeps. It allows him to freeze the air around him and deflect Mista’s bullets back at him.

Gently Weeps may have it’s own name, but it’s full name is White Album - Gently Weeps. It’s it’s own ability, but it’s not like Gently Weeps is it’s own stand.Epitaph is the same; it’s just an ability that King Crimson has.

Isn’t that a bit broken though? It’s wildly inconsistent with limits on stands.

Oh sure, because JoJo has never been wildly inconsistent with it’s logic before. It’s not like Iroha didn’t say the same thing earlier dude.

*Kuripa pulls up another manga panel.

King Crimson uses Epitaph to see 10 seconds into the future. He then erases that 10 second interval immediately afterwards. Whatever Epitaph sees WILL  happen. It's FATED to.

And before you say anything about how that doesn’t happen in the final battle, that’s the whole point. Golden Experience Requium fucks with fate, and Epitaph can’t do anything about it, rendering the ability useless. So there you go.

Wh-What do you mean “there you go?” You explained basically NOTHING.

No I didn’t! I told you, what Epitaph sees is fate. Diavolo cutting off Trish’s hand is FATE. It’s gonna happen, he just skips the part where it DOES happen so no one realizes.

Ok, but...How does Epitaph decide what counts as fate or not? Diavolo thinks, “I’m gonna go in there, kidnap my daughter and cut off her hand.” Does that one thought mean fate is decided?

No.

Yes.

FUCKING-!

Let me just clarify. Diavolo cannot interact with anyone while King Crimson is active, which means that he can’t move or do anything during the skipped time. Despite that, are you saying even if he moves differently than Epitaph's predictions, within his stand’s ability, the receiving party of his attack...that now isn't actually happening...still takes that punch even if it's no longer being swung?

Well, that’s a clusterfuck of a sentence.

This is a clusterfuck of an ability!

But yes. Since it was fated to happen and he makes time skip straight to the point of being in pain from the punch he still gets hurt even though Diavolo didn't have to actually do anything. He just doesn't use that ability until the end because he naturally tries to avoid fighting people head on even if he's going to erase it because of his paranoia but when he's pushed to the brink he realizes he can do suicide attacks if he has the balls for it and then when he sees the prediction he erases it so he's perfectly fine and the other person still gets hurt.

Huh...

Ok...So overall, it’s like this. Time skips forward by 10 seconds, and Diavolo can see what happens in those 10 seconds, both BEFORE it happens using Epitaph, and WHEN it’s happening due to King Crimson’s natural ability. We refer to this time “skip” as time being “erased.”

Anything that happens in those 10 seconds doesn’t affect him, but in tandem, he can’t affect anything that’s happening in those 10 seconds.

But that said, he can sort of influence it, because what happens in those 10 seconds still happens, even Diavolo’s own predicted movements. He only knows what he’s going to do in that time, because while King Crimson doesn’t perceive him, Epitaph does.

Anything that would have happened in those 10 seconds DOES happen, EVEN IF he was involved, which is how he can cut off Trish’s hand and kill people even during the skipped time. But otherwise, nothing affects him.

Exactly. Get it now?

Yeah...It’s confusing, but...I think I get it.

Good. PHEW! That was a lot of effort.

...

What’s up Ryota?

Hang on a second though. Everything we’ve just discussed taken into account...Some things don’t match up at this bit.

Ooooh...Dammit...

[Much, much later...]

They finally left.

...

You ok buddy? You look knackered.

I haven’t wracked my brain that much in who knows how long...and it wasn’t even work related.

*Despite his exhaustion, he stands up.

Maya, I’m so sorry. I got so caught up in the discussion, my “break” ended up lasting the whole day.

I was useless in the kitchen and let you do all the work on your own. I let you down.

Haha...Don’t worry about it Kuripa.

To be honest...I think you did me a service more than anything.

Wait, what? Wh-Why?

A few reasons.

Exhibit A...I DID mention that conversing with our customers was vital for the business. And that’s basically what you spent the day doing.

“Conversing” is being VERY generous. That was an argument, and there’s no other way you could put it.

Exhibit B. You were being very loud, so the rest of our customers got a lot of entertainment today from watching you all go back and forth.

What are we, caged monkeys?

But...above all that...I really want to give you and the Kiyojuns thanks.

KYOJIN’S.

Right, that. That’s...the first time I’ve ever seen Leona get into such a full-blown argument about manga before.

And that’s...a good thing?

The way I see it, if you’re willing to argue with someone, it means you’re passionate about whatever it is you’re attacking or defending.

Leona doesn’t have many friends back in the US that really understand what she does. Hell, Leona doesn’t really have many friends aside from us back home.

Manga is such an irregular form of media compared to US propaganda that enjoyers of that caliber are few and far between. 

So...seeing Leona have such a passionate back and forth with the people who understand her love and relate to her. It brings me joy.

You did nothing wrong. And for the record, I have NO IDEA what you were talking about, but I’m on your side whatever it is.

...Maya.

That said...Since I had to serve customers all day by myself, you can take care of the cleanup on your own tonight. Fair’s fair, right?

Of course buddy. I’ll get right on it~

[matan4il]

Update post:

Yesterday, there were no less than two terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians, one in the morning, and one in the evening.

The first one happened in Beersheba, where the terrorist stabbed and injured two people before being neutralized. The terrorist was an Israeli Bedouin, who had been convicted of drug-related criminal charges. The prosecution asked for his arrest, but the court decided to be lenient, to aid in his rehabilitation, and instead only sentenced him to community service. He was due to start in two weeks, but instead he chose yesterday to attack innocent civilians.

The second terrorist attack took place in Gan Yavne. A Palestinian man, who used to have a work permit in Israel, but lost it and remained here illegally, carried out the attack. The Palestinian terrorist started stabbing people at a gym and then at a nearby cafe, wounding 3 people, all of them originally determined to be in serious condition, one is a teenager, the other two are reported to have life threatening head injuries. The terrorist was 19 years old, and he was neutralized at the scene. In investigating how he managed to stay inside Israel illegally after his work permit had expired, the police has arrested two people so far.

Israel has wrapped up its second operation at the Shifa hospital in Gaza City, with another soldier pronounced dead (20 years old Nada Cohen), bringing the IDF fatalities in the Gaza ground operation so far to 256, and the total number of killed Israeli soldiers in this war, including during the Hamas massacre (reminder that some of those soldiers were girls serving in non-combative posts, without combat training or even a weapon, and were slain while still in their pajamas) to 600.

The end of one operation in a Gaza hospital doesn't mean that's the end of Hamas abusing medical and humanitarian facilities, so there are and will be more such operations. That's why I'm also sharing this reminder that nothing is sacred or even just... off limits to Hamas, who moved kidnapped civilians in ambulances, as one of the released hostages testified.

I mentioned in a post expressing my frustration over foreigners' ignorance over the conflict, which doesn't stop them from acting like they know better than the people actually living it, the Hamas-Fatah "civil war," which erupted in 2007, when Hamas killed Fatah members in Gaza and took over the place. The two Palestinian factions have tried reconciliation several times over the years, but it never lasted long. Israel's war in Gaza against Hamas and its fellow terrorists organizations is not over yet, but already there's signs of that tension. This def bodes well for Palestinians if Hamas survives this war.

A city council meeting in California, which dealt with Holocaust remembrance, ended up being the scene of some despicable displays of antisemitism in its anti-Zionist form. IDK what was most distressing to hear about, the way they screamed "Lies! Lies!"' at a Holocaust survivor, or that they took and threw to the ground the phone of a Jewish man who came to speak about his grandma who had survived the Holocaust, or that they mocked a mother speaking of her child being harassed at school to the point he doesn't wanna be a Jew, because he doesn't want to be hated... Maybe that they made my friend, who attended the meeting, cry on what was supposed to be a very special day. I saw coverage on Israeli TV of the city council, which both told me how bad it was, if of all things, that's what they're talking about, and at the same time, it was nothing like hearing about it from her. So I'm glad that she shared some of her own impressions about this ugly demonstration of hatred (I'm also scheduling her post for a reblog). I just hope Jews all over the world know that we here in Israel care about you, we love you, we are standing by your side, and we wish we could do more for you. <3

Speaking of antisemitism, and an inability to recognize it as such, to call it out and condemn it, here's some recent examples from around the world. In Spain, the locals went out for an Easter drink, a tradition called, "to kill the Jews," but insisted it's not racist. Attacking and even killing Jews actually was customary in Europe on Christian holidays such as Christmas and Easter. In fact, this specific nickname is derived from those old attacks.

In London, a policeman insisted that swastikas being displayed at an anti-Israel protest were not antisemitic, and should be taken "in context," despite admitting that a symbol that's abusive or would cause public distress would fall under his jurisdiction to act against.

In the Netherlands, a single mom of a Jewish girl was attacked for the daughter's choices (she decided to move to Israel and has served in the Israeli army) both at home and at her workplace, a hospital. The mother was so rattled after the attack at her home, that she wouldn't stay there. A Jewish hotel owner offered her a free stay at his hotel. In an interview with an Israeli reporter, the mom said she's considering moving to Israel, too (source in Hebrew).

This is 32 years old Celine ben David Nagar.

She worked as an office manager at a law firm, was married to Iddo, and they had a 6 months old baby together. On Oct 7, Celine was on her way with a friend to the Nova music festival, but they never made it there. The Hamas rocket attack started first. For 10 days, she was considered missing, and it took a while, but eventually they found her body. While her fate was still unknown, two days after the massacre, Iddo went on TV and talked about the fact that Celine was still breastfeeding. Following the interview, hundreds of Israel women volunteered to donate their mother's milk to the little baby girl. At Celine's funeral, Iddo asked said goodbye to his wife, and asked hr to watch over him and little Eli from above.

May her memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[spacebaby1]

Helloooo May I request a law x any gender reader fic/headcanons where reader is also a survivor of the Amber led poisoning and WAS one of law’s friends from school (they weren’t close close friends). Reader managed to escape in time and somehow found a devil fruit that could also help her with the disease but it left her marks in her body which she is insecure abt (like faint white spots over her body and face.

Thank you and have a good day!

I love it when y'all request to write for Law Trafalgar! Enjoy! This hit home to me as girl with surgery marks left behind😩

Sitting in the small library table with medical books all over the table and almost hiding you behind then you searched for the solution. For the last few years of your life, you kept searching for a cure, a solution to why your devil fruit powers were limited and didn't help you recover fully.

The disease killed all of your loved ones. You weren't even sure how you got out alive because the only thing you remembered was passing on the school grounds and waking up in another village. Turns out a couple had found you, and someone took you out of the whole disaster. A fisherman had sold the devil fruit to your new guardians in exchange for a lot of gold promising them your recovery in return; which was absolutely true. You had gained your health back, well, part of it. Even though the illness was gone. Some marks were left behind for the world to always turn their head around to look at you. They weren't that bad, but they felt like a burden you had to carry. It was hard to figure out if the people looking at you on the streets were just looking or they were looking at your marks. Even if they were just on the left side of your face, you had learned to hide them; with your hair mostly or a scarf or a hat.

But you needed them gone only to come to no end with your research. With a sigh, you shut the last book, running your hands through your hair before getting up and returning the books to their shelves. The small island you had travelled to was a quite one, occasionally some rocky pirate would find their way there for food and supplies without causing trouble; you had once run into the most known pirate none other than Shanks himself. You had completely forgotten how to breathe because you had only seen him in the newspaper or his bounty poster, and seeing him in person was shocking, other than the fact that you feared pirates.

You sighed as you entered the small cafe and ordered a hot tea before sitting in the back and grabbing the newspaper to read before heading home. You flipped the pages, and your eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar someone. It was a bounty poster. Your eyes widened, and you burnt your lips with your tea as you read the name over and over.

Trafalgar Law

Trafalgar Law

The heart pirate?

It said that he could be heading east from polestar island; that's where the small island was. You gasped, standing up and grabbing your things before heading back to the library. Asking the lady there for any papers related to pirates or the heart pirate crew you gathered them and finally were sure that your long lost friend from childhood was a famous pirate. There wasn't much information about him other than his unique ship and crew. Later that night, you were walking home with that newspaper in your hand; the island was lively at night because of all the singing and partying at the bar from the drunk pirates. You stopped in track when you noticed the new ship, and it looked different than the others. A lady who worked at the bar had just come out from the backdoor and saw you. She waved, and you smiled at her, "they never stop partying." She spoke, and you nodded, " I can hear them from all the way down the road." She laughed, "there are new ones, and they seem less lively, but I think they will not stay long -"

"The heart pirate crew?" You asked clinching on the newspaper hopefully to see Law. She shrugged, "Not sure, but they do seem different. Anyways, you're welcome to join the party, I'll head back inside." You waited a few minutes after the lady went back in. You didn't know why, but the thought of walking in and the possibility of seeing Law was driving your heart insane. It wasn't like you two were best friends, but you were classmates and "friends" when you were in school, everyone is your friend. Law wasn't the friendliest with a lot of the students, but he was always nice to you and would help you with your homework. The thought of him being alive and safe after everything that happened made your eyes tear up; you did think about him often after you survived and the guilt of him dying made you have nightmares sometimes, you never forgot about him because he was still your friend. Slowly making your way towards the bar, you stopped and backed away just standing there, not knowing what to do. Just then, someone exited the doors and stood to the side. You could recognise the hat from anywhere. You breath hitched when you saw him, for a second he looked at you then away probably not recognising you in the dim street lights, he looked around before making his way towards the door and just when he was about to enter- "Pookie Head!" You called out; a nickname you gave him when you were little because you kept teasing him about his hat having spots that reminded you of your dresses, the polkadot dresses that you owned as a kid. Law stopped in his track, hand on the bar door, you let out a sigh you weren't sure that you were holding. His eyes widened at the familiarity with that silly nickname. No one else called him that name except for you. He turned around with wide eyes staring at you and dropped his katana that he was holding over his shoulder. "N-nice hat." You felt a tear slip on your cheek as you chuckled. "Y/N-YA?" He asked, rushing towards you, not caring about his katana. You weren't expecting him to fully embrace tightly so much so that you almost fell backwards.

The hug was enough for him to know that it was indeed you. He recognised your aura immediately as he wrapped his arms around you. "You're alive. You're alive." He kept mumbling to himself. "So are you, I missed you, thought I'll never see you again." You were laughing but started to cry as you held onto him because the memories of everyone; you family, your friends came rushing to you and that horrific day. "I was so s-scared." You cried, and he caressed your hair, "I know, I know. But -" He pulled back cold hands cupping your face, "you're okay? You're-how-i mean- h-how did you - " he went to remove your hair from the left side of your face, but you stopped him, placing your hand on his and shaking your head. "D-Don't look at me. The marks never left." You said, looking down and hiding your face behind your hair. "Don't hide from me, I spent my whole life thinking you're d-," he sighed, not able to say the word.

Gently, he cupped your face, "Look up at me, let me see you." You sighed and looked up as he gently and carefully pushed your hair behind your ear. He smiled at you. "You're still as gorgeous as the day I saw you last." You couldn't hold your tears and tried to look away, but he stopped you, "hey, hey. I promise you I'm being honest. It's not bad, not as bad as you think it is. Just let me look at you, please." You looked down, "I tried everything b-but I get rid of them, I can't look at myself without reminding myself that I'm always there between all my friends a-and they're dead but I'm not." You cried it was true; every time you'd walk past the mirror, it only reminded you of the reflection of that day, and it was agonising. "But how did you survive?" You asked him between sobs, and you saw the hurt look on Law's face, "Cora-San, he died to save me. He put his life to get me the devil fruit." Your eyes widened, "d-devil fruit? That's what I ate, and it healed me but not the spots and marks. I-I just can't figure it out how to use it. Sometimes, I'll heal others and myself randomly, but I don't know how to use it. I'm a complete idiot, I didn't even know that you can't swim if you're a devil fruit eater." You said that last part with a confused look that you always had when you couldn't do your homework as a kid and it reminded Law of the old days and how used to think that pouty look was funny evertime you pulled it unintentionally.

He chuckled resting his hand on your head, "you've never been much of a swimmer and you fear the ocean." You smiled blinking the tears, "you still remember that I fear the ocean?"

He smiled at you, "I never forgot anything about you." He cupped your face, "You look tired, are you okay? Is it gone? The disease?" You nodded, rubbing your eyes. You didn't realise how tired you looked after spending hours and hours to find a cure for your marks. He sighed at the tired look of your before pulling you in a hug and you felt your eyes heavy with sleep, "you know I can help you with removing them, I'm sure I can if that's what you want." You looked up at him, "you would do that for me?" He nodded with a smile, "I don't see the difference in it because you're always beautiful to me, but if it makes you happy, I can figure it out if you want." You nodded happily because you did feel proud of surviving that horrible day, but you always wanted to for once look in the mirror and not remember the past just for that night. You rested your face on his chest and closed your eyes, falling asleep in his arms immediately; he's always been your safe haven.

The next morning, he had already warned his crew mates to not just burst into the surgery room because he wasn't sure if you wanted anyone to look at your face or make you uncomfortable. You sat there watching him go through his notes with the katana in hand before he forwarded it towards you to examine but you pulled your knees to your chest with a frightened look on your face, "Why is that huge katana in front of me? You're not gonna slice my face, are you?" He couldn't help but chuckle at your question before shaking his head and explaining to you the procedure to which you replied in an "ohh, okay." You just sat there with eyes closed, and he examined you. And when he figured it out, he explained to you that it would be an easy surgery and that you won't even feel it. He laid your head on the bed carefully, still holding your hand because he could see how much you were shaking. "Don't worry, I will not let anything happen to you. Okay?" You nodded, "good girl. I need Sachi to help me here. Is it okay if I bring him in?" You nodded again with a small smile. After Law was ready to start the surgery you still couldn't calm down, sachi offered his hand, "hey, you can hold on to my hand and squeeze it like a stress toy if you'd like. I've been told I'm a very calm machine." Law eyed him, "Sachi!" You laughed before holding Sachi's hand and closing your eyes, "thank you, sachi." He just chuckled.

No matter how hard you helf Sachi's hand he didn't even yelp but kept trying to calm you down by rubbing his thumb on your wrist and just like Law promised you didn't feel a thing not before falling asleep because of the peng and not after waking up to find Law standing by your bed as you slowly opened your eyes. "Hey, are you feeling okay?" You nodded sleepy, "I don't feel any pain." He smiled, "it's all done now. You won't feel any pain." You to find Sachi, and he waved at you to which you waved at him half asleep before turning towards Law reaching your hand for him which he immediately held, "What's wrong?" He asked. "C-Can I see?" You asked in a low sleepy voice. He nodded, helping you sit before handing you a small mirror. You blinked the blurry vision away and finally saw your reflection. The marks were gone, you didn't feel like the bad memories rushing in as you looked at your face, tears filled your eyes and you sniffled before reaching for Law and hugging his side, "T-thank you, Pookie Head." He laughed at the nickname before hugging you, "I'll do anything for my sweet girl, anything." Sachi got up, "Okay, I need to go." He said before rushing out. Meanwhile, you hugged Law and cried happy tears after so many years.

[cuubism]

in an attempt to be more offline (absolute failure so far) i wrote the next installment of Nightingales by hand in an actual notebook. imagine that. behold, fanfic that's touched grass... or something.

Dream has taken to leaving random books on Hob's nightstand. This is no abnormal occurrence, except that these aren't from Dream's infinite collection of books he's "currently reading," but rather seem to be left there for Hob.

Hob will finish a book, and within the hour it will disappear back to the Library, miraculously replaced by another. At first this suits Hob well enough. The cafe is only getting busier, and while Hob does love trawling through the Library's endless stacks in search of a new read, he'd rather spend his free time with Dream. Perhaps Dream is only trying to facilitate that through this method, or trying to make Hob happy by applying his knowledge in the area where it's vastly broader.

But then it starts to get weirder. Whereas before, Dream's selected books had been exactly to Hob's tastes--as they usually are, it is his specialty, after all--slowly they start to diverge.

First it's an epic tome about interstellar travel. Post-apocalypse, final earth survivors traveling light years to an untamed planet, and so on. Hob likes sci-fi well enough, but this particular one is getting a little too 2001: A Space Odyssey for his tastes, a little too abstract and philosophical. Perhaps one that Dream likes that he wanted to share?

Then comes the horror novel. And what horror. A man born and raised in underground rooms, who did not realize he was bereft of the sky until an attempted rescue caved in his tunnels and nearly suffocated him. Dragged from the soil, gasping, he had to cover his head lest he go blind.

'David had read of plants that grew upwards. Instead of the deep roots he'd touched all his life, they had stems, and leaves, and these went up, into another world. Birthed into cold fear, David thought.

He was one of those plants. He stretched long fingers up through the soil, gasping for breath. Warm earth parted and air greeted him, air chill and dry as he'd never tasted it. A searing pain in his unused eyes. He did not even have a word for the brutal shine that fell upon his face.

(Light, he would later think. Sunlight.)

No matter how hard he pressed his hands to his eyes it was not blocked out. He whimpered, and the same hands that had pulled him from the collapsed earth, hands painful in their kindness, laid a blanket over him, covering his head in warm darkness again. No, not a blanket. A jacket?

Another head peeked under the collar of the jacket, letting in a sliver of brightness before it was shut out again. Oh. His rescuer. His arms were bare; it was his jacket that David was wearing over his head.

"Hey," said his rescuer. His voice was warm as the soil. "You alright?"'

Perhaps it isn't horror, Hob thinks, only afterwards.

Then there's a book of love poems, though they're strange and hyper-modern, and Hob can't shake the odd sense that he shouldn't be reading them, that Dream has, somehow, snatched them out of a time yet to be.

He finally confronts Dream when he's left a relatively straightforward, if bland, romance of the type he hadn't thought either of them particularly went for. (Even Dream wouldn't be able to pull sex inspiration from it as he likes to do with his bodice rippers, the book isn't nearly spicy enough for his tastes.)

He marches back into the bedroom one morning, after several minutes of making coffee and mulling, and holds the book up in front of Dream's face. "Dream. What."

Dream looks up from where he's reclining in Hob's bed, several books scattered around him. "Did you not like it?"

"Did you?"

Dream hums, looking down again at his own book. "It has merits."

"Why, though. You keep giving me these books. Why?"

Dream continues studiously reading his book, though he isn't turning pages. So it isn't teasing, then. Nor even some lighthearted attempt to get Hob to expand his reading horizons. It's something deeper.

"Dream," Hob says, sitting on the side of the bed by his thigh. "Come on. Talk to me. What is it?"

"Page one-fifty-two," says Dream in a quiet voice, and it takes a second for Hob to realize he means the book Hob is still holding.

Hob hasn't managed to get that far in the book. He flips through it, anxiety building, more anxiety than he thinks a light, beachy romance is ever meant to produce.

He turns to the page, about three-quarters of the way through the book.

'Lacy had calculated it once. Across her entire career, she had written two million, five hundred twenty-two thousand, nine hundred and eighty-three words.'

Right. Hob remembers from the few chapters he'd managed to read that the protagonist is a writer.

'2.5 million words about romance. Who could possibly have so much to say on the topic? 2.5 million words of circling and circling the point. Not letting herself see it well enough to skewer it.

All those words came only to this: she wanted to marry him, and she didn't know what to do.'

Hob drops the book.

It tumbles to the floor in a flutter of bending pages, but he pays it no mind. He takes Dream's hands in his own, letting Dream's book fall closed on his knees. Dream looks up at him hesitantly, from under his eyelashes. You silly thing, Hob thinks, with heart-clenching fondness. I love you so.

All of it had been a message, in Dream's own oblique way. Borrowed metaphors from the vast catalog of his brain. That's how he connects: through the books that Hob knows are -- in some strange way -- a part of him.

He leans down to kiss Dream's knuckles, like he's bowing his head before a shrine. Then he looks up. Dream is watching him, expression somewhere between wary and awed.

"You don't have to know what to do about anything else," Hob says, "so long as you marry me."

Dream smiles tentatively, and tips his forehead against Hob's. He can be so strange and mysterious at times, but more often than not, when they're alone in their bedroom, he's like this: soft, wanting, just on the edge of shy, and that's the version of Dream Hob most wants to bundle up and away from the world. Even if he knows it's impossible, and not right besides; Dream can't just live in his bedroom, he has to live in his stories, and stories are out in the world. Hob can't help but want it anyway.

"I would like that," Dream says, smile soft. Hob kisses his cheek, body full of warm light.

He pulls Dream into a proper hug, tucking his face into his shoulder. He feels Dream's smile against his neck. The warm weight of him in his arms, in his bed.

So improbable to have snagged a thing such as Dream from the expanse of his existence, and cuddled him up in the cozy confines of his simple cafe. But as Dream had said. The door exists because Hob uses it. He met Dream because he went to his shop that day. He went to his shop that day because he was to meet Dream. Each improbability has a circular path.

Christ. He's thinking like that sci-fi novel Dream had given him.

Hob doesn't know what a marriage with a creature like Dream -- he still doesn't know what that is, exactly -- is meant to be like. It's uncharted space.

But he knows that he wants it. Wants Dream.

He holds his darling close and kisses the corner of his mouth. Dream's lips are sweet with happy tears.

"You will marry me, then?" he murmurs, more pleased repetition of the thought than a question.

Hob gets the book of infamous page one-fifty-two off the floor. Turns to page one-fifty-three. Finds the word he needs, swipes Dream's pen from the nightstand, circles it. Hands the book to him, open.

Dream touches the circled word with a reverent fingertip, and smiles.

[jacensolodjo]

"On scales monumental, miniscule, and everything in between, one of the most important ways we humans sort through our experiences and memories and feelings is by making art. And, if we can, by sharing that art with others. Sometimes we create in order to make sense of the world, especially when the world makes no sense at all, and sometimes we create in order to illuminate some fragment of that world that might otherwise, for most of us, be trapped in the dark. Sometimes we do it as a way of inviting other people to see inside our minds and our hearts, and sometimes we do it because we realize that no one can see inside our minds or our hearts unless we find words or images or sounds or movements that reflect at least a fraction of what is hidden. And sometimes even when we do this to the very best of our abilities, we still fall far short of meaning."

Survivor Cafe by Elizabeth Rosner

[dailymanners]

Watch what subjects you talk about in public within earshot of others. Keep disturbing and potentially triggering conversation topics for private settings (or public settings where everyone is warned in advance that these topics will come up)

If you're chatting at a cafe with your friend, and the other tables are rather close to yours and within earshot, this isn't the setting to loudly talk about self harm when the cafe go-ers at the table next to yours could be struggling with self harm, or have a loved one who is. The other patrons at the cafe deserve to enjoy their time out at the cafe in peace without being disturbed or triggered.

Or say you're getting your hair cut in public at a hair salon or barber shop. This isn't an appropriate setting to loudly and explicitly describe a plot line involving incest from the latest book you're reading, as anyone around you in the salon or barber shop could be a survivor of incestual abuse. The people around you deserve to cut hair or get their hair cut in peace without being disturbed or triggered.

As always, when you're in public it's important to remember that you're not the only person who exists or matters in public. Everyone around you in public is a human being with their own history and struggles, and you can never know what they've lived through or are currently battling with.

[cheeriochat]

Hmmmm DMC headcannons 3!!!!

This one's a bit wordy

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

• Dante and Vergil are the type of twins that when they are close by, are touching in any way possible. Sitting together? Dante is leaning on Vergil. Standing together? Vergil has his arm resting on Dantes shoulder. Walking together? They keep bashing into eachothers side. They can spend time apart (obviously) but when they are close there is always some form of contact.

• Nero felt phantom pains where his hand used to be, but when his arm grew back they kind of just became ordinary pains. He wasn't sure if it was a side affect of growing a whole ass arm back or something but he was happy when they went away.

• I kind of think Kyrie would have depression. I mean she went through a lot and lost her parents and brother but she lived, so I feel like she would have survivors guilt but due to constantly being busy she wouldn't really have the time to process it. It's a sad headcannon but I feel like it just seems right :(((

• On a bit of a lighter note, I feel like Kyrie would have a good support system though. I mean she has Nero obviously, but also I think she would have Lady, Trish and Dante there for her and eventually Vergil too.

• Talking about Trish, Lady and Dante. I feel like Lady and Trish would go shopping Bayonetta 2 style, and have Dante carry all their stuff around. (He gets compensated for his work when they stop at a Cafe and he gets a parfait, although he doesnt mind helping his friends)

• Nero has a huge sweet tooth, but because of the kids, he can't keep anything to satisfy his need for sugar around long enough. Vergil likes to buy him sweet stuff though as a form of peace offering. He's found Nero likes Lemon Sherbets, Sour patch kids, and controversially, Liquorice.

• Vergil likes Hotpot and Shabu Shabu. I don't know, I just feel this in my soul.

• Dante is jealous that Vergil gets a tail and he doesn't. Vergil is jealous Dante's horns are fancier than his. They are both content with the wings that they have. (Also vergil has long skinny fangs with sharp teeth and Dante has wider, stubbier (but still as equally sharp) fangs with more "human" teeth)

[hajihiko]

Do you have any super specific headcanons? Like what everyone sleeps in or favorite cafe orders

What they sleep in (survivors):

Akane: naked.

Hajime: boxers only. Sometimes he discards them if it's too hot

Fuyuhiko: a matching set of jammie shirt and pants. Slippers included

Kazuichi: boxers, tank top sometimes

Sonia: night gown and mask, but when she's feeling ~wild~ only someone else's oversized shirt...

I dont go to cafes enough to make an opinion on Cafe orders, also I dont have Starbucks. But

Akane: none. Does not buy the expensive liquids

Hajime: like, a black coffee with a single shot of syrup or whatever

Fuyuhiko: black coffee, he hates it. Looks longingly at cookied

Kazuichi: 3x espresso and a shot of syrup with cream and a muffin

Sonia: pumpkin spiced oat milk foam latte with cinnamon and extra chocolate chips with a cookie on the side which she dips

[meglinpancake]

those days

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Order #4: Kisaragi Clients.

Welcome to Canzanilla Cafe, can I take your ooooorder~?

Huh?

Oh!

Ah!

Oop! I detect controversy! What’s going on?

N-No problem Maya. Just a little surprised to see our guests here today.

Yes, I’m equally as surprised to see you, Mr Kurafto. Of all people I expected to be taking our order today, I didn’t expect it would be you.

But it’s certainly not an unwelcome surprise. Good to see you pardner!

Good to see you too Otori. Still grateful for what you did for us back during the Fugitive incident.

Yeah...about that...Sorry if it’s insensitive o’ me to ask, but...How have you and Makoto Naegi been since then?

I’m fine...relatively...Boss still hasn’t really recovered but...we’re doing what we can for him?

Something tells me that I shouldn’t pry, but I REALLY want to.

It’s personal...I’ll tell you later.

Ok, well...Who might the two of you be? I don’t think I’ve seen you around the place. Do you work in a special department or something?

No, that’s not it. This is Teruya Otori, and this is Rei Mekaru. They work for the Kisaragi Foundation.

Kisaragi...?

The Kisaragi Foundation are their own separate organization, but they do similar work to the Future Foundation that involves them hunting down criminals and rescuing people in danger.

The main difference between our two groups is that the Kisaragi Foundation are a little more...heavy handed. They don’t have the same code of honor as the Future Foundation, and they’ll achieve their goals through whatever means they deem necessary.

Huh...So, Future Foundation is like Martin Luther King, while the Kisaragi Foundation are like Malcom X?

Good analogy, but there is more to it than that.

Huh...

What’s wrong?

Just thinking Kuripa.

You’ve always besmirched the Future Foundation’s policy, but the Kisaragi’s sound like they’d let you get away with that. Why don’t you work for them instead?

Well, there is a few reasons. Even if my methods are deemed necessary and allowed, there’s a limit to what I they can do for me.

Also, the chairman of the Kisaragi Foundation, Tsurugi Kinjo...He and I get along like two wankers who support different football clubs.

Plus...Kisaragi Foundation doesn’t have Makoto Naegi.

Aaaww.

That’s not important right now. Sorry for our rudeness, I just wasn’t expecting to see you two here today.

The feeling is mutual. We came here for a meeting with the chairwoman. I wasn’t expecting we would encounter you, or a place like this.

Hey! What do you mean “a place like this?” It’s a café, have you never seen one before?

I know what a café is...

Come on Rei, don’t act like that. It’s disrespectful to the bartender.

With that said, sorry, no pressure or anything, but these drinks had BETTER be good.

No pressure indeed. What’s got you so uptight?

Ah...It’s just...can you imagine how difficult it was for me to keep Rei from running back to her desk!?

We come all the way out here, and as soon as we finish our consultation, she wants to jump right back to working.

What? But it’s Christmas! You deserve a break!

Exactly! And look at her! We’ve only been here for a couple of minutes and worry is already written all over her face!

*sigh* Teruya...

Well, Future Foundation have told me that they’re relatively busy around this time of year. The reason Kuripa’s working at this place with me is because there are minimal competent people they can spare. I’d imagine the Kisaragi Foundation also have a lot to handle.

Yeah. Plus, given that Rei here is second in command of the whole establishment, it’s only natural that she has a lot on her plate.

Still, I agree with Otori. You deserve a holiday just as much as anyone.

And you’re already here anyway, so why don’t you let us mix a couple of drinks for you? It’ll make you feel a lot better.

Think of it as a way to unwind.

Thanks...Seriously though, Rei is probably the only person I know who needs to LEARN how to relax.

Anywho, if we’re orderin’ whip me up a large latte with extra cream and extra sugar please!

Why am I not surprised?

Don’t judge me~

And how about you Ms Mekaru? What are you in the mood for?

Coffee please. No milk, no sugar, medium please.

Well that’s...mundane.

Yeah, can’t you have a little more creativity?

You drink that boring old coffee all the time as well. Wouldn’t you at least TRY something else?

Tch...You three should start a band called Green Hair and Bad Attitude.

Well sorry for looking out for you!

I know, I appreciate it, really. But I really do just want a regular coffee. I need a boost of caffeine tonight.

Fine, I’ll get right on that for the both of you. 

*A few minutes pass and Maya brews both Teruya’s latte and Rei’s coffee. She brings the tray back to them and places it down on the table.

Here you go. Boring coffee and diabetes latte, at your service.

Those can be our stage names for Green Hair and Bad Attitude.

Are you actually going to start that band!?

*Rei takes a careful sip of her coffee, while Teruya takes a big gulp of his latte. The latter licks the cream off his lips and smiles.

Aah! The perfect amount of sweetness. You have my seal of approval.

Arf Arf Arf!

Oh for goodness sake, you’re SO LAME!

I have to agree. This is a well made coffee. Strong, rich and bitter at the same time, all of them balancing just right.

I’m glad you both liked your drinks.

...Yeah...Thanks...

Something wrong ma’am?

No, it’s fine. I’ve just...been giving what you said to me earlier some thought.

Oh?

I’ve been...reflecting on my weaknesses lately. There’s still a lot of areas that I can improve upon.

It’s been stressing me out and...I’m worried that stress has been rubbing onto the rest of you as well. For that, I am sorry.

All: Uuuuuuuuuggggh...

Wh-What!?

Sorry Rei. It’s just...I STILL don’t think you understand what Teruya meant.

Huh?

See? He gets it~

Rei. It’s Christmas, and you’ve been working yourself down to the bone these last couple of months. You’ve even been sleeping in the office lately!

In a way, you’re right. Your stress is getting to me, but it’s not rubbin’ off on me. I’m just WORRIED about you, so I thought I’d take you out for some drinks after today’s meeting.

But even though we’re here, yer STILL thinkin’ about work! My feelin’s are gon’ go from concern to panic in a sec!

I think we’re already there. Your dialect is going nuts dude.

Oh! Sorry...

*Teruya composes himself.

My POINT is...If you’re constantly under stress like this, it’s only a matter of time before you burn out and collapse. Then what the hell are we gonna do?

Exactly. You clearly know just how much the Kisaragi Foundation relies on you. Tsurugi may be the chief, but I don’t think he could truly run the organization by himself. If you go down, what’s gonna happen to everyone else?

I...didn’t think of it like that...

You know, I was raised by my grandparents in Italy. They were old farts but...I knew they still cared about me.

I was a pretty hyperactive kid, and I was always leaping into problems without a plan...To be honest, I still do that. But, mi nonna had a saying she would always repeat to me when things got rough.

“Disconnettersi per riconnettersi”

Disconnect...to reconnect...?

Exactly.

I’m not one to sit around and do nothing, but if you work hard and play hard, you gotta rest just as hard. And YOU lady, need more rest than you think you do.

I...I see...

You get it now?

Yes, I understand. And on that note, I must apologize.

It was...Maya, right? I apologize if it seemed like I was disrespecting your establishment earlier.

I didn’t really understand the appeal of places like cafe’s or bars before now. Now I know better. You’ve created a place that serves as a refreshment for both the body and the mind. Thank you for opening my eyes.

Aw, you’re making me blush.

Heh...The thought of the Ultimate Professor needing to be taught something is funny to think about.

I have always had a habit of putting work above everything else, so I never really understood why it was that people would go out to bars during weekends or after work. So this is why you and Setsuka enjoy such places?

Well, yeah...and nah. It really comes down to who’s behind the counter.

Speakin’ o’ which, I gotta give you guys my thanks. Wouldn’t’ve been able to change Rei’s mind without ya’ll. Here, I’ll leave you a tip.

Don’t mention it.

Buon Natale Kisaragi Foundation!

*Teruya leaves a big tip, as he and Rei make their exit.

[moo-blogging]

Late night fluffy thoughts #117:

Postwar Levi has changed physically, and you too.

The war has ended and you moved to Marley with Levi. The peaceful life you dreamt of was finally becoming true, although not the way you wanted it to be. Levi was wheelchair bounded, but you loved him all the same. You were ever so grateful that he lost his ability to walk instead of his life.

But Levi didn't think so. He felt useless in the wheelchair. His body ached in places he couldn't see. Sometimes he could hardly sleep due to the pain, and you were always there to massage him or put hot cloth on his sore areas. Levi hated himself.

You opened a homely cafe with other survivors nearby your house, providing affordable food to those in need. You made Levi helped out in the shop, where he was in charged of taking orders at the counter. Soon, Levi found new hopes for the future. He even taught children to read when the shop was slow in the afternooons. He often sneaked sweets to children too, thinking that you wouldn't know, but you did.

One fine afternoon, you and Levi took a day off the stay at home. You laid you head on his thighs as he read on the sofa. You pressed your face to his abdomen, finding his tummy soft and warm. He had lost his tight, hard abs. You snuggled up his tummy.

Levi signed, "I really lose it all, didn't I?"

Turning you head up to face him, you said, "no, you earned something else." You kissed his belly, "a squeezy tummy."

Levi signed again. He caressed your hair, lost in his thoughts. He then mumbled, "what have I become? A fat crippled man stuck in a wheelchair." He looked at you and asked, "why are you still with me, a crippled man?"

"Would you still love me if I've changed?" You asked him.

"You know that's not what i mean. I-"

"Levi, I love you as you are. I love you when you were a captain and I love you now as my husband." You reached out your hand and touched his face. He leaned into your palm.

"Besides," you swallowed and took his hand in yours, rubbing his fingers before placing it on your tummy. "I am changing too. I'm pregnant, Levi. We are having a baby." You grinned at him.

Levi's eyes widened with shock. He looked at your face and looked at his palm on your tummy in disbelief. You nodded to confirm. You witnessed his face crumple and Levi broke into a sob. Giggling with happy tears in your eyes, you sat up and pulled Levi into your arms.