The origin of Sifo's hair loopies?
"Jo, what are you doing?," Sifo tried to peer at her busy fingers doing... something with a section of hair at the side of his forehead.
"Hush, hold still." She sent him a cautionary jab over the Force, concentrated solely on her little project. "I just learned how to do this, so don't fuck this up."
What 'this' was got revealed to Sifo-Dyas about half an hour later as he peered curiously into a reflective bit of a spoon (due to grievous lack of mirrors in the Archives). He tilted his head, shaking it a bit, the movement sending Jocasta's hairdresserial masterworks (?) swaying.
"And what are they?," he asked again, looking at his very proud looking friend.
"It's a Knight-braid," Jocasta said proudly, "I learned about them when I visited Jedha. Apparently they fell out of fashion already back in Grandmaster Sunrider's time, but there's still records of how to do them."
Sifo looked back into the spoon. Shook the braids some more. "Knight braids, huh," he murmured, "I've never heard of those. You sure that was a real thing that existed?"
She shrugged, already going back to her half-finished kaf she'd gotten before their little pause mid mission-prep. It must have been ice cold by now, Sifo would never understand how she could still drink it like that.
"Does it matter if they did?," she quipped back, before downing the contents of the cup. "They're cute and they suit you. Way better than that stupid beard Yan has been growing out."
Oh, so this was about the beard.
Sifo should have known.
"Maybe if it grows long enough you can braid that too?," he couldn't help but tease her, "You know, get some old traditions up and going again? Maybe start a new trend while you're at it?"
All he got was a look that could have shock-frozen Mustafar twice over. "Do not," she mocked throwing the kf cup at him, "even joke about that, Sifo. I'd rather personally shave down Master Tyvokka before touching that... thing."
Sifo laughed, fingers already reaching to play with the new braids. They were fun. "Oh, don't act like that. You can't fault him for trying to hide his babyface. There's been talks of him getting offered a Council Seat, you know. He's been stressing out over it all month."
"And his solutions to that was to grow a beard over it?" Jocasta sounded dubious. "I don't know. Sounds like a case for the mind healer to me."
"Oh shut it," he flicked her though the Force, "I think it looks stately."
"Of course you do." Her defiant murmur was barely audible, buried behind the datapad she'd pulled out. "Suckup."
"Not everyone is on a crusade against all facial hair like you are," Sifo singsonged happily, ignoring her dramatic mood (it was mostly an act anyways). "A bit of self expression won't do our dear Yan any harm."
Jocasta's face darkened further. "Not him maybe, but just see how you'll feel about it when it gives you beard-burn. That shit sucks."
Sifo snickered. "Advice taken."
"I'm serious, Sy."
"And I'll keep it in mind, Jo." He scooted over to her, flinging one of the newly installed braids against her cheek. "Plus, you've given me the weapons to defend myself now, haven't you?"
With an annoyed groan, Jocasta simply reached out, quick as lightning, and grabbed Sy's entire face, pushing him away. "Stop that you little kriffer," she complained, "I'm already regretting this, just so you know."
Sifo let himself be pushed away. Then he waited a few moments, before immediately diving back in, tackling his smaller friend in a hug. "Nahh," he said happily, rubing his face against her side, "You love me. You love the braids. Show me how to do them myself?"
"You're gonna keep them?," she asked, peering down on him. It was evident that she was flattered by the idea. Flattered that he'd liked them.
Sifo grinned up at her. "Of course. As I said, I gotta be able to beat back Yan's beard-attacks, don't I."
"Hmm." She looked off, clearly fighting down a smile. "I'll see what I can do."
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Technically an OC fic that's not Resistance-based-
Involves:
Yoichi singing the American anthem to make a baby sleep. It's the only song he ever heard on the radio, and it actually works
Kudo throwing a baby Factor over the edge to kick them out of the void because Bruce wouldn't do it
Bruce felt himself wither and die a bit more at what was expected of him.
Kudo rolled his eyes. "If you're not going to do it-"
"Second, don't you dare-"
"Kudo," Yoichi tried.
"I will," he finished, heaving her up by the back of her onesie like she were a trash bag. Raising her up to eye level, he did a brief three-finger salute.
Her head was too heavy, and neck too weak, for her to look anywhere but at his feet, biting her gums onto her little knuckles. She had no idea what this man was about to do to her.
"Hasta la Vista, kiddo. Enjoy your last seconds of life."
"KUDO!!!"
En speedrunning the marriage process because his friend wanted to (both ace, it's a QP relationship)
"Sorahiko-senpai, give me the marriage certificate," En nearly hissed over their burgers.
Sorahiko chewed slowly. "Why?"
"I'm about to set the world record for fastest divorce—!!!"
Quirk bullcrap where the story focuses on what happens if a Quirk Singularity can't adjust, and how Factors are their own personality.
AKA, when a Quirk Singularity is in a normal person, and not like OFA or AFO.
Gran Torino is bad at relationship advice
"In my experience, which is none—"
Aizawa has problem children (definitely plural) acting out on day 1
Aizawa slammed the door open.
"Hi, Shouta!" she waved, a raging blonde stuck to the classroom wall and screaming up a storm. The first day had barely started, too. "Fancy seeing you here-!"
Aizawa slammed the door shut.
Setting up a Monopoly game for the vestiges to play
"I want the doggy."
"I want the doggy!"
Kudo didn't even blink. "Shut up, Fifth, Yoichi gets the dog."
###
She looked at Midoriya, who suddenly went quiet. His expression was a bit cowed, staring blankly at the tiny player pieces.
"What?"
"Ah..." His head jolted, called to attention. His head immediately fell down a bit as he admitted, a bit awkwardly, "They're, fighting over the doggy..."
###
"Yoichi grew up with nothing. Are you really going to deprive this orphan of even a playing piece?"
"Are you seriously playing the pity card right now?!"
"I'll play any card to let Yoichi have what little he never got when he was alive,” Kudo sniffed, arms crossed. “I may have been a murderer, but wow. I never took you for a heartless monster, Fifth."
"Guys," Shinomori spoke up quietly, completely ignored and otherwise unheard underneath their spreading bickering, "it's just a board game..."
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Hey, if you're having a good lol at Trump's ridiculously tiny hands on that New Yorker cover, then I hope you know that I -- a transmasc AFAB person with small hands and gotdamn do I wish I could change that -- am taking notes on Who Thinks Laughing At Transphobic Humor Is Fine, Actually, As Long As I Personally Think The Target Deserves It.
I am not telling anyone what to do, or not do; and here on our beloved hellsite, I am a total unknown to about 99.999944% of you, meaning you have essentially no reason to care what I think.
Maybe you've got a friend who's got Small Hands, though. Maybe he's dysphoric about it, or they get clocked a lot because of it, or xe is just tired of people pointing it out. Maybe at some point you told them, her, whatever, that no, there is nothing wrong with nir hands. They aren't laughable. Those are good hands, dammit, and you don't see a single funny thing about them, and anyone who does is just an asshole.
Oh, your friend might think, looking from your reaction to that image, and then down at their own little hands. So that was a lie, then.
Intellectual honesty would seem to lead to the conclusion that these cheap physical-appearance-based digs are either always appropriate regardless of your opinion of the target, or that they are never appropriate regardless of your opinion of the target. If you are scrambling to justify why it's totally cool, actually, to use transphobic humor if only you can find a target who's bad enough to "deserve" it -- that means you think transness can be worth mockery. You're just saving the transphobia for when you think nobody in the room will call you out for it.
I'm not the boss of you, though, so. If you really insist on your sacred right to being able to make fun of a dude's girly hands -- some dude, somewhere, there has to be a situation where you can finally make these jokes that you've been sitting on all this time -- then I guess that is your decision.
(same with any other kind of humor that trades on bigoted stereotypes. believe me, I'm not looking forward to all the upcoming political cartoons that will Very Creatively exaggerate Trump's weight, either.)
(inb4 "I'm trans and I will still laugh at Trump's small hands from now until doomsday": I guess that is your decision. It's probably good for your current followers and friends to know that about you, because that may give them info they need to make some decisions of their own.)
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