#and leaving with just an aspect would be.

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.

As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.

As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.

Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.

AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.

DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.

He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.

He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.

He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.

Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.

Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.

VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.

DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”

And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.

His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.

The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.

Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.

Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.

Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.

Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.

But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.

He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.

The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.

Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.

On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.

[writetheidea]

Too Much to Be Enough - part 2

Hi, I wrote the second part of this fanfiction while juggling my thesis, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to point them out in my DMs or asks—I'd really appreciate it. I couldn't bring myself to just write pure fluff without adding a bit of angst. As I mentioned in the story, rebuilding trust isn't a straightforward process. I hope you enjoy it!

Part 1

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x female character

Plot: after deeply hurting his girlfriend, Franco learns how hard it is to rebuild their relationship, learning that trust, once broken, is a delicate and painstaking process to restore.

Tag: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3178

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

Franco had always been a man of control. On the racetrack, precision wasn’t just a skill; it was survival. Every turn, every decision, required complete mastery over chaos. Off the track, he wasn’t much different, carrying that same calculated demeanor into his personal life. The way he managed his career, his relationships, even the smallest aspects of his daily routine, all reflected his need to remain unshakable. Control was his armor, his identity. But this—watching the woman he loved drift further away because of his carelessness—was a storm he couldn’t navigate.

He had made a mistake. A single moment of thoughtlessness, a few careless words, the laughter that followed, had been enough to tear open the foundation of trust they had spent years building. The memory replayed endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless tide. He could see it all too clearly: the way her face fell, how her voice quivered when she confronted him. She hadn’t screamed or shouted; she hadn’t even cried at first. She had just gone quiet, her silence heavier than any words could have been. It spoke of wounds too deep for words, a disappointment that no apology could touch.

At first, he had thought the tension might dissipate after a day or two. He had underestimated the depth of the wound he had inflicted. What followed was a purgatory of silence. She didn’t leave outright, but her presence was a ghost of what it had been. She avoided his touch, his gaze, even his attempts at conversation. The vibrant, warm woman he loved so fiercely had become a shadow, navigating their shared spaces like a stranger. Franco’s every attempt to bridge the gap between them fell flat—flowers went untouched, her favorite pastries remained uneaten, and the small notes he left for her disappeared without acknowledgment. It was as though she was erasing him piece by piece, and he could do nothing to stop it.

The silence was unbearable. He missed her laughter, the way she would light up when she spoke about her favorite books or dreams for the future. He missed the way she would reach for him instinctively, as though he was her safe harbor. Now, he felt like a trespasser in his own life, each moment with her a painful reminder of what he had broken. 

On the third night after the fight, Franco found himself sitting on their couch, his hands clasped tightly together. The room felt impossibly large, every corner of it carrying memories of better times. He could picture her curled up on the other side of the couch, her laughter filling the space as she recounted some silly anecdote or read him a passage from one of her favorite books. Now, the silence was deafening. He had spent hours going over what he might say to her, how he might begin to repair what he had broken, but words failed him.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I can’t stand this. Tell me what to do—tell me how to make this right.��

She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “What’s the point?” she said quietly. “You’ve already shown me what you think of me. You agreed with them, Franco. You laughed at me like I was a joke.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt the full weight of her hurt settle over him. “That’s not true,” he said desperately. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“No,” she interrupted, finally turning to face him, her eyes flashing with rare anger. “You weren’t thinking. But that doesn’t change what you said. Or what you did.” Her voice cracked, and for the first time, Franco could see just how deeply he had hurt her. “Do you even understand how small that made me feel? Like I was some kind of joke? Like I’ll never be enough for you?” 

She paused, her face now showing the pain she had been harboring beneath the surface “What else do you want me to say, Franco? That I’m hurt? That I feel like I’ll never be enough for you now? You already know that”

Her words cut deeper than any insult, the quiet resignation in her voice tearing him apart. “You are enough,” he said fervently, reaching for her hand. “You’ve always been enough. I was stupid, careless—I didn’t mean what I said.”

“But you did,” she replied, pulling her hand away. “Maybe you didn’t mean for me to hear it, but you meant it. And I can’t unhear it, Franco. I can’t forget the way you agreed with them, the way you laughed about me like I was some… inconvenience.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt his chest tighten, guilt clawing at him like a relentless tide. “I love you,” he said desperately. “I love everything about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t lose you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find some trace of the man she had once trusted so completely. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And right now, being with you… it hurts.”

His throat tightened as he searched for words, but there was nothing he could say that would undo the damage. “You are everything to me,” he said finally, his voice raw. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”

-----

But words weren’t enough, and he knew it. That night, she moved to the guest room, leaving their bed and a gaping void in his heart. He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment he had failed her, every time he had taken her love for granted. He thought of her kindness, her patience, the way she had always believed in him, even when he doubted himself. And now, when she needed him most, he had failed to be the man she deserved.

The next morning, he woke to find her gone. A note on the counter said she was staying with a friend for a few days. He stared at the words until they blurred, his chest aching with the realization that she needed space from him—that being near him caused her pain. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

He threw himself into trying to make amends, even if she wasn’t there to see it. He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, cooked her favorite meals, and set the table with candles and fresh flowers every day, hoping it might offer a small measure of comfort when she returned. The evening when she finally walked through the door, she paused, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him.

“What’s all this?” she asked, her voice wary.

“I thought we could have dinner together,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I thought… I just wanted to do something for you.”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down at the table. They ate in near silence, the tension between them almost unbearable. He tried to ask about her day, her friend, anything to fill the void, but her answers were curt, her gaze fixed on her plate. By the time they finished, Franco felt more defeated than ever.

As she stood to leave, he reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Please. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said. “Just tell me how to make this better.”

She looked down at him, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “I don’t know if you can,” she said softly. “But if you want to try, then stop looking for shortcuts. This isn’t about flowers or dinners. It’s about showing me that I matter to you—not just when it’s easy, but when it’s hard. It’s about showing me—every day—that you love me for who I am, not despite it.”

-----

From that moment on, Franco dedicated himself to proving his love, not through grand gestures but in the quiet, unremarkable moments of daily life. He began paying attention to the things she cared about—remembering the books she mentioned wanting to read, making sure her favorite tea was always stocked in the pantry, and taking over chores she usually handled so she wouldn’t have to. He didn’t push her to talk or try to force her forgiveness; instead, he gave her the space she needed, even when it hurt to keep his distance.

The process was slow and often discouraging. There were days when she barely acknowledged his efforts, her walls still firmly in place. But there were also small victories—like the time she laughed, a soft, unguarded sound that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds. Or the day she found a note he had left in her book that simply said, “I see you. And I love you.” She didn’t say anything about it, but later that evening, she made them tea and sat beside him on the couch, the silence between them no longer quite so heavy.

-----

Franco thought he was making progress. Slowly but surely, she was beginning to let him in again. The walls she’d built around herself were still there, but they had started to crack. She smiled a little more often, lingered at the dinner table to talk about her day, and once, when they were watching an old movie on the couch, she leaned into him without pulling away. Each small step felt monumental, and Franco held onto the hope that one day, she might fully trust him again.

But trust, he learned, was fragile.

It happened at a party—a glamorous event hosted by one of Franco’s sponsors. He had been reluctant to go, worried about the strain it might put on their delicate truce, but she had insisted. “You shouldn’t have to give up your life because of me,” she said. He had taken her words as a sign that things were improving between them, a sign that she was ready to be part of his world again.

The evening started well enough. She looked stunning in a sleek, dark dress, her hair framing her face. Franco couldn’t take his eyes off her, and for a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the room. They mingled with the crowd, exchanging polite pleasantries with sponsors and fellow racers. She held her own beautifully, her sharp wit and quiet confidence earning smiles and laughter from everyone she spoke to.

Then came the moment that undid everything.

Franco had stepped away to get them drinks, and when he returned, he overheard a group of men making crude jokes about her. The words were vile—reducing her to nothing more than a pretty accessory, a trophy to be paraded around. Franco’s blood boiled, but instead of stepping in to defend her, he froze. He laughed awkwardly, muttered something dismissive, and walked away.

What he didn’t realize was that she had overheard, her expression a mask of disbelief and hurt as she stood just out of view.

Later that night, as they drove home, the tension in the car was suffocating. She stared out the window, silent, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Franco tried to fill the void with small talk, but each word felt hollow.

Finally, she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he already knew.

“I heard them, Franco. I heard what they said about me. And I heard you laugh. Again.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean what? To defend me? To show them that I’m more than the joke they made me out to be?” Her voice cracked, and she turned away, shaking her head. “I thought you were different. I thought you respected me.”

“I do respect you,” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know what to say—I panicked.”

“Panicked?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “I was standing there, Franco. Listening to them degrade me, waiting for you to have my back. And you panicked?”

The argument spilled into their apartment, growing louder and more painful with each passing moment. By the time it was over, she was packing a bag, tears streaming down her face as she threw clothes into a suitcase.

“Please don’t do this,” Franco said, his voice raw. “Don’t leave. We can fix this.”

She stopped, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the suitcase. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice shaking. “This isn’t just about tonight. It’s about every time you’ve made me feel small, every time you’ve chosen your pride or your reputation over me. I can’t do this anymore.”

And with that, she was gone.

-----

The months that followed were the darkest of Franco’s life. She didn’t answer his calls or texts, and when he went to her friend’s house to see her, he was turned away at the door. For the first time, he had to confront the possibility that he might have lost her for good.

Franco threw himself into therapy, desperate to understand why he kept sabotaging the one thing that mattered most to him. His sessions were grueling, forcing him to confront parts of himself he had long ignored—the insecurities he buried beneath his arrogance, the fear of vulnerability that drove him to push people away.

He also began writing her letters, pouring his heart onto the page in a way he had never been able to do in person. He didn’t know if she would ever read them, but it was the only way he could process his feelings.

Months passed. Slowly, Franco began to change—not for her, but for himself. He realized that he couldn’t ask her to come back if he wasn’t willing to become the man she deserved.

Then, one day, he received an unexpected text.

“Meet me at the park tomorrow at 2.”

His heart leapt, but he forced himself to temper his expectations. When he arrived, she was sitting on a bench, her posture stiff, her expression guarded.

“I got your letters,” she said, her voice quiet.

“And?” he asked, his heart pounding.

“They were… honest,” she admitted. “But honesty doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—not yet, maybe not ever. But I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m working on myself, and not just because I want you back. I need to be better, for me. For whoever I become, with or without you.”

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she said finally. “But I’m willing to try. Slowly. On my terms.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-----

True to her word, she made Franco work for her trust. There were no shortcuts, no grand declarations that could fix what was broken. If he wanted to be in her life again, he had to earn his place every single day.

Their relationship became a fragile thread, held together by small, cautious interactions. They started meeting once a week for coffee, their conversations polite but distant. She kept him at arm’s length, her walls firmly in place. Franco didn’t push; he simply showed up, week after week, ready to prove himself.

One day, as they walked through the park after coffee, she turned to him abruptly. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The question caught him off guard, but he didn’t shy away from it. “Because I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid of looking weak, afraid of being judged. But mostly… afraid that if I stood up for you and got it wrong, you’d see me as a failure.”

Her eyes softened, but her expression remained guarded. “And now?”

“Now I realize that failing you is worse than failing in front of anyone else,” he said. “If I ever get the chance again, I promise you, I won’t let you down.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “We’ll see.”

The weeks turned into months, and their connection began to deepen again. She started sharing more of herself, though cautiously, and Franco matched her vulnerability with his own. He told her about the therapy sessions, about the childhood insecurities that had shaped his need for control and approval. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and while it didn’t erase the past, it gave her hope that he was truly changing.

-----

It wasn’t a single moment that brought them back together, but a series of small ones—acts of kindness, vulnerability, and unwavering support. Franco became a man she could rely on, not just in words but in actions. He stood up for her, prioritized her needs, and made her feel seen and valued in every aspect of their lives.

There were moments when he doubted himself, wondering if he was fighting a losing battle. And there were nights when he lay awake, haunted by the memory of her tears, the sound of her voice breaking as she told him how much he had hurt her. Through it all, he held onto the hope that one day, she would see how much he loved her—that she would believe it, not because he said it, but because he showed it in every action, every choice he made.

One rainy afternoon, he decided to try something different. He pulled out a cookbook she had always loved but rarely used and flipped to a page with a recipe for her favorite cake. He was hopeless in the kitchen, but he wanted to try—to show her that he was willing to make an effort, no matter how small. When she came home and found him fumbling with ingredients, the sight stopped her in her tracks.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“Trying to make your cake,” he said, holding up a whisk like it was a weapon. “It’s probably going to be terrible, but I thought—”

She interrupted him with a soft laugh. “You’re going to burn the kitchen down.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “But I figured it was worth the risk.”

She stepped toward him, closing the distance that had felt insurmountable for so long. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was warm, her eyes soft as she reached for the whisk. “Let me help you.”

As they cooked together, bumping elbows and laughing at his mistakes, Franco felt something shift. It wasn’t complete trust—not yet—but it was a beginning. And as he watched her smile, he realized that this was what love was: not grand gestures or perfect moments, but showing up, every day, and choosing each other even when it was hard.

[captianimarum]

Ultimately, all either of them could do was be there should they be needed and try their best to make sure Yagami never felt particularly alone. They would help one another through it all, even in the smallest ways, and that would simply have to be enough.

Sugiura finished cooking, made sure Kaito had plenty to eat, that everything was ready to go and mentally could the youth make notes on what to buy and how much - - it was easier now he knew, in truth- and perhaps just cooking nice meals would be enough of a help in some aspects because sometimes... sometimes a home cooked meal did make things feel a little bit better.

"Absolutely." As he had vowed earlier, he wouldn't leave Kaito to deal with it by himself. He takes a moment to quickly tidy up, making sure Yagami's food is covered and there for when it is wanted before he heads back to Kaito and gives a determined nod. "I'll be just outside the door if you need me."

They would. They had to. Kaito was more so worried about how long this might last, and if it might just end up affecting Yagami's physical recovery. He was already worried enough about his eyesight and these headaches. If things didn't start to look up soon... man, who knew how this might end up going?

But, he wouldn't think like that. He needed to keep it together for Yagami.

They at least got a short reprieve while Yagami was resting. Time to sit, to talk about things other than Yagami, and finally eat once what Sugiura had made was finished cooking. Kaito enjoyed it, even getting a second helping to really fill his stomach. As he was nearing the end of that second serving, though, he could feel a small sense of dread coming to him, too. Because he'd have to wake up Yagami soon enough.

He was kind of considering just leaving him be. Let him sleep. The food could be reheated. But, y'know. Better to know now instead of in the middle of the night that he wasn't gonna eat what'd been made.

Man, he really hated that he was dreading waking his best friend.

"...All right," Kaito sighed, putting his plate down before leaning back in his seat. "Wanna be on standby while I wake 'im?"

[furiousgoldfish]

I've noticed the other day how life is fundamentally different when living out of abuse. I had an experience of waking up in the morning, sleepily tapping over to the kitchen in my pajamas, wondering what to make for breakfast, and making a plan for the day. Completely careless and unselfconscious, thinking only about the food and what I wanted to do with my day. It hit me then how impossible every aspect of this would be, had I still been living in the abuse.

If I was still around abusers, my first thought in the morning would not be 'oh I'm so sleepy I'm gonna find something to eat', it would be 'Are they in the house, are they in the room, are they already mad at me'. I would be looking around cautiously, listening for every sound that indicates they're near me. I would be checking the clock to see if their schedule had already put them in their workplace or wherever they go, and then still peering trough the doors anxiously to see if the hallway is clear, if I can get to the kitchen. I'd be checking how I look to see if I'll be reprimanded for being in the pajamas in the common area. I'd change just to avoid the possibility. I'd be checking each item of food and wondering if it's okay to take it, or whether there's a chance I'll get yelled at or blamed for taking it. I'd be analyzing the last words and actions we exchanged to try to predict how close the abuser is from blowing up and possibly attacking me.

The rest of my day would be scheduled around avoiding them, or alternatively, being in the place where they could easily find me, because if I'm not where I'm expected to be, they might get mad. All of my activities could be stopped and prevented at moment's notice if they decided I need to be doing something for them at that moment. I could be yelled at for not doing something for them sooner, for 'making them say it'.

If I wanted to go out, I'd have to consider if this is allowed, and if they'd want me to stay inside for one reason or another. If I am outside, I'd have to worry about what's going to happen to my stuff if I'm not back whenever they're expecting me to be there, or what kind of angry state I'd find them in. It would be safest to notify them of everything I'm doing, but they might immediately call it unnecessary, stupid, offensive or otherwise inconvenient, and force me to drop it and do something for them instead. Secrecy was the only way to do things, but also risky in case some part of it turns out to be not allowed. There were never any clear rules to what is okay, it would change with their moods.

If I could hear the abuser's car parking in the driveway, I would run back inside of my room, as if it was the 'safe area', when it wasn't. It would at least take me out of their view, so they wouldn't immediately think to start at me. But if they wanted to, they could just go inside of my room and charge at me then. I would just delay being the target, putting myself out of immediate sight. Of course this also meant I couldn't leave any trace of doing anything in the home, so it wouldn't be noticeable I just ran away. Everything has to look untouched.

And then when they interacted with me, I had to make sure to not show emotion on my face, to not look overly confident or happy, to not show any fear or anxiety, to not look sad or upset, to not look angry. I had to act normal, or else. I had to try and defend my own actions and interests walking a fine line of 'trying to let them know I'm upset and unhappy about this, without setting them off and causing them to blow up at me for talking back'. And I'd be told off for this too, because 'how could I complain when people have it soo much worse and I am ungrateful for having a roof over my head'. I had to do whatever was asked out of me, and restrain from even expressing it wasn't what I wanted, for the fear of losing the roof over my head.

Unbelievable I just lived like that for many years. And now I can flop in my pajamas to the kitchen, eyes half closed, make a mess, and think of nothing but food and plans for the day, not worrying for a second that someone could target me for any move I make. I still get scared easily, but nobody attacks me anymore. I can take any item of food, for it is all mine. I can decide to go out anytime, come back anytime, no consequences. I decide what is good for me to do, and nobody else gets an input. I can think of my own interests, and disgreard what anyone else in the world could want from me, because I don't exist for their convenience, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. What I lived before feels absolutely intolerable now. Even one second of that is unsurvivable.

[dykedvonte]

I think a big misunderstanding is the power people give Curly to actually change things about the way the pony express operates or could’ve done things on the Tulpar.

We are talking about a company that docks pay for bad synergy despite mandated psych evals that should tell which staff members would work well together, only allots for 5 hours of sleep despite having literally no other tasks to truly do and locks all resources behind the access of one person. The last one is likely to manage resources and make it easier to justify collective punishment and blaming one person for it; someone needs something in “excess” or the captain gives in? It’s all on them your pay is docked. Instant resentment.

It’s insidious how the company works, it’s by design to distract you from coming after them, to force tensions to line their own pockets. With all the restrictions and forced interactions, altercations are bound to happen. 5 hours of sleep a day, limited sources of entertainment, no real tasks… the monotony alone would cause bad cabin fever, mix that with just only one absolute mediator and you get the exact environment that allows shit like in the game to happen.

The idea he could just complain and try to throw his weight around to get them to dig into their pocket for the crews comfort is laughable and misses the predatory and dehumanizing aspect of capitalism the Pony Express represents. Curly was and is still just another asset to them. Being a top show pony doesn’t mean he’s anywhere close to the actual top. He is the top of the working ladder, not whoever’s in corporate, he wouldn’t even be on the bottom step unlike what Jimmy perceives. The resounding recommendations he would get are almost mocking as they throw him out like nothing just like the rest. Being a shitty fucking company, how much do you bet they’d mean anything anyways, especially since he wanted to leave the field all together.

He made a fuss and they didn’t listen, he says he should’ve done more but you can tell he knows it wouldn’t have changed anything. Jobs like this are willing to make a sacrifice if it means even a penny more. Curly makes a bigger fuss they likely would’ve just found an “unrelated” reason to fire him, hired a more pliable guy or, terrifyingly, promoted Jimmy. The company was failing, going to shut down whether anything happened on the ship or not. But knowing that they were shutting down and that everyone, including him, would be out of a job with this being their last paycheck, he had to factor in not destroying the last bit of their financial stabilities combined with every other issue on the vessel and his own. He gets another cryopod or locks and then he has to break to them that they are not only fired but there will be substantial cuts to their paychecks due to the “upgrades” (things that already should’ve been in place on their part) on top of anything else that could be docked along the way.

You can blame him for saying it so early into the trip but then again, if he mentioned it later who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse? On the capitalism side alone how would people in a galaxy away from home, out of a job and already stir crazy react? Don’t get me started on how Jimmy would have reacted if he realized he only had two days left to fix what would be a very hard to miss “problem” in his head…

I can’t even consider explaining this as devils advocate because it’s just facts of the world we and they live in and factors that heavily affected the situation. People are just so quick to make claims on the ease of the choices when P.E literally makes it hard to choose to do anything but suck it up.

[oriley42]

Serious question but no need to answer if you don’t want to

I see a lot of talk about Amber’s portrayal being sexist in the show, but I’m not quite sure why? To me her motives always seemed really well-defined (high pressure = “I’m only worthy when I’m successful”) so she puts on this sharky mask with a feminine facade so she is feminine enough to get a certain amount of approval but never shows how much she cares (which could be used against her but also could be used to undermine her “oh you’re too soft”). I thought the show did an excellent job of showing a mask for her

But a lot of people talk about 00s sexism and how it impacts her characterization. The sexism… Is it that she gets called a cutthroat bitch? Or how her story revolves around a man after she leaves House’s team? Is it the fridging?

Any of those could be it I guess but it just sounds like you and others are talking about something a little more fundamental to her personhood so I thought I’d ask if I’m missing anything.

Very interesting question! I think you're getting at exactly the trickiness of the issue, which is that sexism always operates systemically. It's not that any key aspect of Amber's character "is" misogynist, it's that every aspect of her character is automatically filtered through a lens of sexism.

In today's world where "bitch" has been very de-clawed, turned into a more casual and way less gendered insult that's used without cruel intention in queer slang, I think it's hard to understand just how violent the term was--and was meant to be--in the aughts. House in canon is not calling Amber a bitch in a cute, almost self-deprecating, friendly way (though I think it's valid to re-write it that way in fic to defuse the term!). He is calling her a bitch to contain and belittle and dehumanize her. We see the term mobilized this way against Cuddy in 5 to 9 as well: calling a woman a bitch was an extremely powerful rhetorical tool to turn any dangerously competent, brilliant, threateningly accomplished woman back into a harmless, debased, controllable object. So, "CB" reflects how easily the fact that Amber is the "female House" gets turned against her--it doesn't mean she's an eccentric genius like him, it means she's an evil copycat who needs to be put down. And this kind of structural logic applies to her whole characterization--it doesn't matter that House does it all more frequently and worse, if she does it, it's unacceptable because she's a woman. (There are parallels here with how racism means that when Foreman acts like House, he also gets the axe instead of the narrative bending over backwards to make what he did alright.) That's why she was fired, after all!

And her death. Woof. Classic case of killing a woman for man-pain. Everything supposedly about her death is actually about how her violent destruction can be used to fuel Wilson and House's character arcs. The narrative is occasionally conscious of this, for example, Wilson saying "none of you even liked Amber" is an almost metatextual reminder of how cruelly she was disenfranchised in every way (including the sexism of her trying to "defect" to the men's team early on, having no female friends, because unlike House who has so many people orbiting him, she is truly alone). Comparing her death to Kutner's is instructive: Kutner gets a whole episode that's about characters desperately trying to know him better. They trace their relationships towards him. Amber, on the other hand, is nearly absent from her own death. The characters trace away from her and towards the way male characters feel (Wilson's loss, House's guilt). Amber becomes just an imagined figure of House's guilt. Even her ghost is not her own. (Though I think many fans do a more feminist read and reclaim the way she haunts the narrative--but imho that would be a negotiated if not fully oppositional reading, to use Stuart Hall's decoding/encoding terms.)

One easy way to see that gendered difference is in how the show refers to these characters after death. Kutner is always "Kutner," never just "House's dead fellow" or rarely "our dead colleague." Amber is often referred to as "Wilson's dead girlfriend." Kutner is his own person, Amber rhetorically gets reduced to an object belonging to a man.

In conclusion: sexism operates structurally, which can make it hard to identify! And one of the funny effects of contemporary fandom doing so much good work to un-fridge women and give marginalized female characters richer personalities and more chances to grow is that canon's intended message of sexism gets obscured. Which, is awesome? Keep up the good work! Let's make misogyny unintelligible 🎉

[daughterofapollo-official]

I feel like if you do not like Jason you are just lazy.

Because he was a very interesting character, but more mysterious.

Like, in order to understand and appreciate his character you had to actually THINK! Read between the lines and look at the details.

He was intriguing. And calm, he put people before himself, because he never considered himself and he was TARIFFED that people would leave him behind, abandoned. So he’d do anything, and always put others first.

If you didn’t understand that, you were too lazy to analyze the books and you only liked the surface leave, entertainment aspect of the series and not the actual art of Rick’s work. Not everyone is very aware of their emotions and is able to dissect them.

Like Leo, he knows he is fucked up, he knows the ways he is fucked up. He is aware of his issues which is why he thinks about them and they are obvious in his chapters. Even if he doesn’t verbally express them.

But Jason isn’t the type to think about himself. He doesn’t even have the time for that. So how could he acknowledge that about himself if he doesn’t understand it yet?

Jason’s chapters were about the mission at hand because Jason prioritized responsibility and goals above his emotions.

Secret government agent: *punches me in the face* Say it! Me: *spitting out a concerning amount of blood* Secret government agent: Say Jason Grace is a boring character with no personality! Me: Fuck you

[vulpixisananimal]

(Odile)

("Cardio is good for you." Yes and so is sunshine, and you get sunburnt easily. Gems alive. . .)

(You hastily walk down the street, to catch up. Thankfully, Pétronille got Ramos and Bonnie to wait for you before continuing on. You sigh when you do catch up.) "Oh try not to rush an old lady too much."

"Sorry M'dame." (Ramos rubs the back of their head.) "Just, excited! So-"

"Less talk more walk then!!" (Bonnie interrupts, before continuing on. You shake your head, and follow.)

(Ramos and Bonnie took the lead, the two of them joking and chatting while you stayed a little back with Nille. Wolworth seemed like a nice enough town, but you really would like to sit down.)

". . . So." (Nille talks a bit quieter.) "Still got suspicions?"

"Hard to say. . ." (You glanced at her.) "You?"

"I dunno." (She squints, thinking.) "they were a crab and a half in Jouvente, but they've only been helpful since then."

"Or is that mind craft talking." (You chuckle softly.) "But I can't help but agree. . ."

"Right?" (She laughs as well.) "Like, c'mon. . ."

"Mhm." (You look back up to Ramos and Bonnie.) "Boniface seems to trust them now."

"Right. . ." (Nille pauses for a moment.) ". . . If Ramos lays one hand on Bonbon they're dead meat."

"That'll make two of us." (You nod. Gems. . . And here you were all excited to travel the world with your new little family. Take a vacation, try new foods, not a care in the world. . . But now you were off being heros again. Ha! You wonder which aspect you must have annoyed to deserve this.)

(Ramos gasped excitedly as they turned a corner.) "There's my house!!!!" (They took off running. Again.)

(You sigh; joining Nille and Bonnie in catching up. Turning the corner, the little side street had a collection of houses, two stories, each with ample space for a garden. Ramos was waiting at the third one down, bouncing excitedly.)

(You chuckle as you catch up.) "Something tells me you're a little excited."

"YEAH!!!" (Ramos turned to the gate to the small garden and stepped inside.)

"Who's keepin' this garden?" (Bonnie asks, they wandered over to a bushel of lavender that was dying.) "Looks dead."

"Oh! I used to before I left, but Eri liked taking care of it!" (Ramos waved a hand, having made it to the front door.) "It's probably just because it's not the season. Winter and all."

"Y'sure?" (Bonnie squinted.) "Still looks pretty bad."

"I dunno, it's kinda cute." (Nille chuckles, joining Ramos.) "Bet the plants'll be glad you're back!"

"Haha! Makes two of us!!" (Ramos smiled, and tried the door. Locked.) ". . Weird."

"Hmm, could they be out?" (You comment, looking at the closed curtains.) "Shopping, perhaps?"

"Or asleep." (Ramos knocked on the door.) "Eriiii!! Knock knoooock!!!"

(You wander around the garden. It was small, nice. The front door was along one side, the opposite was the gate to the street. Either side was bordered by a neighbors garden. You went to one side, looking at the hedges that, by the looks of it, was once very well kept.)

(You turn back to the others. Ramos and Nille were still waiting, and Bonnie was looking at the other plants. Well, if Eri wasn't in you could go to the House of Change. Leave a letter, talk to a neighbor. There's options.)

"O-oh!" (A strangers voice from behind you. Turning, the neighbor, an older man, had come out of his house.) "You're, Change you're not one of the Saviors, are you?"

"TWO!!" (Bonnie somehow was right by your side, peeking over the fence.) "We're the Opposite Spectrum Alliance!!! Heheh."

"Quite." (You chuckle.) "My name is Odile, this is Boniface. That is Pétronille, Boniface's sister, and that is Ramos, who we've been traveling with."

"O-oh, well. . ." (There's hesitance in his voice.) "Are you. . . Looking for something?"

"well yes, we're looking for-"

"Oh! Hey Mr. Fluran!!" (Ramos runs over.) "How've you been??"

(Mr. Fluran looked confused for a moment before it clicked.) ". . . Oh!! Did you Change? Ramos now?"

"Yup!" (Ramos was beaming.) "I liked Jasmine but I just, needed something different."

"Ah that's the Vaugarde spirit!" (He chuckles.) "I've been, well I've been better. Running around, taking care of the place, the back's been acting up again. The aches only got worse when. . ."

". . . When. . ?" (You ask curiously.)

"Well, you know. . ." (He looks between you, Ramos, Nille, Bonnie. His smile drops, his eyes soften.) ". . . Do, do you not know?"

"Did something happen?" (Nille chimes in.)

"I. . ." (He look away, covering his mouth with his hands. He took a few breaths, then looked back at Ramos.)

". . . M-mr, Mr. Fluran?" (You dare not look at Ramos' face.)

(The neighbor looked horrified, and looked.) ". . I-I. . . Ramos, I'm sorry, but. . ."

(The bugs in the garden stopped moving out of politeness.)

(Even the wind paused to listen.)

(Your heart would have stopped too if it didn't have a job to do.)

(Ramos voice wavered.) ". . . P-please, please don't say it. . ."

"I'm, I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but. . ."

(The moment lasted forever.)

". . . Eri is dead."

(No one says anything.)

(No one could say anything.)

(. . . . . . . . . . . . . .)

". . . . . . Okay." (It was Ramos. Their voice was shaky, soft, cracked even.)

". . . . . There's, some, papers with, details if you want them or. . ." (The neighbor offers.)

"Please give them to Odile." (You turn to look at Ramos. Their face was a masterwork of agony and shock.) "Do you have a key. To the house."

"Y-yeah, your house now. Left in the will."

"Okay." (Ramos responds flatly. Fluran fishes the key out of his pockets and drops it into Ramos' hand.)

(Ramos turns to the door and unlocks it. Bonnie walks up to them.) ". . . 'Oz? You okay?"

"I need to be alone, please." (Ramos opens the door.) "Second floor, first door on the right. That's my room. I'll be there."

>>>

(Mirabelle)

"I-I, I need should run and tell them!!" (You start to move.)

"You don't need to, they know already." (Perci responds flatly, eyes closed. He wasn't focused on the puzzle.) "The neighbor just told them the news."

"The- oh of COURSE you did." (You huff, and storm back to where you were standing.)

"Yes yes I know I know." (Perci started working on the puzzle again.) "Apparently a letter was sent to Ramos, so I thought they would have known. I'm sorry."

". . ." (After the King attacked, the mail had been struggling with getting letters delivered. And still were. . .)

(The two of you didn't say anything for a while. Listening to the metal puzzles tink tink tinks. . .)

(You don't know what to do. Sif was exhausted, Perci was here, but you had a kind of. . . Truce? But, the person you were here to see was. . . Dead.)

". . . Well. . ." (Perci sighed, and slipped the puzzle into his pocket.) "I have, chores to do. Work to get done. Excuse me, Lady Mirabelle."

(You moved back so he could pass.) ". . . Chores?"

(Perci chuckled.) "What, do you think I'm so evil I can't clean the house?"

(You shook your head.) "N-no I just, didn't think- clean the house?"

"Ha! Lady Mirabelle, I live here."

". . . O-oh!" (He, lived here?!? But, didn't- O-okay!!) ". . . Well. . . I hope, you, have a nice, day?"

(Perci smiles at you, then turns to leave.) "Same to you, Lady Mirabelle. . ."

(. . . . . . .)

(. . . . . . . . . . You turn back to the medhouse. You had to, let Isabeau and Null know.)

>>>

(Odile)

(Eri "nomiddlename" Tempest. Non-binary (They/them). Aged 72 (Estimate). Country of origin: unknown (Estimate: Island). Occupation: retired, former captain of the Wolworth Militia. Date of death: the middle of Autumn, two in the morning.)

(Ever since the Kings attacks, Eri Tempest devoted themself to training the new members of the Wolworth Militia. Dr. Joy stated many times that they are pushing themself too far. Eri died in two in the morning of a stress induced heart attack. The neighbor was alerted when their garden was not watered in the morning. Doctors declared them dead at scene.)

(They leave their favorite longbow and the duties of the Captain of the Wolworth militia to Ark. They leave multiple small trinkets to friends. They leave their home and remaining items to one "Jasmine A. Tempest.")

(Their last wish is to have their body cremated and sealed in a jar for Jasmin to spread across the highest peak along the sea.)

(. . . . .)

(You looked over the Last Will of Eric Tempest again and again. Committing each word to memory, and adding little details mentally. Was this a joke? Another tragedy on this little comedy?)

(Ha. Siffrin is rubbing off on you.)

(You were sitting on a couch in the living room, looking down at the coffee table that was covered with papers. Every time you looked up, your eyes focused on the Urn.)

(. . . Well, it's good to meet you, Eri.)

(You shake your head and look down again. Maybe this blow wouldn't have been so bad to Ramos if the letter informing them of their death wasn't lost in the mail.)

(You lean back. You can't read this anymore, you take off your glasses and rub your eyes. Gems alive. . .)

(The place was well kept, Mr. Fluran had come by once a week or so to dust things down and such. Bonnie was already getting to try the kitchen, and Nille was unpacking things and getting it all organized. You, of course, where here reading some of the most morbid words one could read.)

(The loss of ones parent. . .)

(. . . . .)

(You wonder how Ramos is taking this.)

(The front door opens, looking up, it was Mirabelle. She looked very tired. You wave her over.)

(She walks over and sits down in an armchair with a sigh. There was a silence for a moment, only hearing the cooking from Bonnie in the other room.)

". . . . So Isabeau is staying over, isn't he." (You ask.)

"Yes, he is." (Mira nods.) "The doctor said SIffrin should stay the night, and Isa wanted to make sure he'd be safe."

"I doubt there's much to worry about in a city like this." (You smirk, then drop it seeing Mirabelles face.) ". . . What is it."

". . . Perci was at the medical house. Merlon is recovering from craft exhaustion as well." (She scowls and looks away.) "Perci offered me a truce, essentially. Don't mess with each other until they're recovered."

"I. . . See. . ." (You rub your temple.) "Why are they here, I wonder."

"Apparently, they live here." (Mira crosses her arms.)

"Who lives here?" (Asks Nille, who was walking down from upstairs.)

"The Monets. From the Inn?"

"Oh crabs." (She sighs dramatically and collapses onto the couch.) "Can we not get one crabbin' break?"

"No rest for the wicked." (You start picking up the papers and organizing them.)

(Mirabelle leaned in, curious.) ". . . What's that?"

"Eri's last will." (You respond flatly.) "Ramos asked me to look through it."

". . . R-right. . ." (She looks away. You weren't sure if she knew or not but. . . It looks like she did.) ". . . That must have been, terrible. . ."

"Ramos' been holed up in their room all day." (Nille rubs their shoulder.) "Hopefully sleep'll do them good."

"I hope so too." (You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment with all the paperwork gathered. The Monets, the wave of sadness, Ramos and Eri, Siffrin. . . It's all getting quite complicated already. Gems. . .)

"DINNERS READY!!!!" (You hear Bonnie yell from the other room. You chuckle, standing up. You'll file all those curious little thoughts for later. Because right now, you were hungry.)

[scribesynnox]

"body dysphoria to the next level" would you believe me if I told you that it took my friend explaining back to me what I'd written to realize I'd put my transgenderism in the giant robots. This surely has no effect on my idea that most mech pilots see rapid deterioration of mental state when forced to pilot too often, but that a select few, including Jazz, deteriorate rapidly when not allowed to pilot frequently. Or that he learns field repairs so he can keep them from taking his mech (his body) from him as often.

Ooooooooo, yes yes yes YES, that is some good shit right there, I LOVE IT. @keferon cuz this is part of the tf mecha universe.

Hehehehe, the program taking note that certain pilots are almost addicted to syncing up with their mechs, always clocking in more pilot practice time than anyone else, and getting worse if they don’t get their fix. They love these pilots because more mech time means better results. But they have to watch out because they get.. particular about their assigned mech, getting touchy about ANYONE performing modifications or check ups on their mech without their say so, trying to hold onto their mech even when told to leave it, acting like the mecha belongs to them. They need to be regularly reminded that the mecha suits do not belong to them, they belong to the program, and whatever the program wants done to the suits, the pilots must nod their head and agree.

Jazz learning mech repair for the explicit purpose of not having to give up his mech time for repairs, that is some good shit. Him learning not just for practical reasons, not just because the engineers and scientists around him shove that knowledge down his throat, but because he seeks out the knowledge himself because that's HIS mecha. It is him, it is his, and he can not trust these people to treat him- his mecha- the mecha right.

But at the same time, every pilot here has already sold their body and soul to the program. They may not have known completely what it was they were signing up for, but they got the gist after the training killed most of the candidates. There is no backing out, no escape. So what if the scientists and engineer monitor every aspect of their mech time, if they tinker and poke and prod at their- the mecha body?

But for these few people, who feel at home in their mechanical bodies, in this, at least, they want to keep this bit to themself. For as long as they can. As much as they can. Which isn't a lot in the "let's throw giant robots and humans at these aliens and see what sticks" program, but they try anyways.

[greatwyrmgold]

Obviously, the power (and even whether this gets bad enough to cause a trigger event) depends on a lot of details that your friend didn't tell us. But that just means we can fill in the blanks in a way that makes the story/powers work better.

My versions are below the cut.

Alex is the stubborn guy, Bob is the rich guy.

Version 1: The Involuntary Hermit

This version paints Bob as a bit of a capitalist supervillain...I mean, more than "deliberately depriving Alex of sunlight to drive him insane" implies.

Construction has already started, and they're laying foundations for a building that will obviously intersect with Alex's property. Every afternoon, when Alex is driving home from work, Bob's construction vehicles and supplies are in the road—not enough to actually block the road, just enough to make it inconvenient to return. There's a crane with a wrecking ball attached, parked in the lot next to Alex's, waiting.

Alex has complained to the police and City Hall and every other authority he can think about, but they say nothing Bob did is technically illegal. He considered suing Bob, but he can't afford the lawyer. He even contacted the news media, but no one with a significant audience wanted to run the story, not with how much hype there was around his new development.

Obviously, there's a Shaker element to this power, but the long-term and institutional aspects make me think Architect Tinker, specifically the terraform subtype. Alex can build megaprojects which reshape the landscape, both as an intentional design decision and an unavoidable side effect.

I've tried to narrow it down from there, but that's already got the Parahuman Knife-Twist. Alex got powers because he wanted to keep his home, but using those powers would destroy his home. (It's not like he has access to an off-site laboratory.)

I guess it needs to be something that Alex could build in his basement, but which can still have that kind of earthshaking effect. Maybe something seismic, Tecton on a larger scale? He can disrupt Bob's construction, wreck his scaffolding, topple his vehicles, but in the process he also damages his own house. And if he wants to use his powers to their fullest extent, he needs to go farther, destroying the entire neighborhood, replacing the house he knows and loves with a bunch of caves and maybe an earthy keep.

Version 2: Bound by Duty

In this version, Alex would have left long before the darkness-wall if it was just him. But it's not Alex's house, it's the house of Alex's aging relative(s); maybe grandparents, maybe parents, depends on how old Alex is. This Alex has to take care of his relatives, because no one else will. And they don't want to leave this house, come hell or high water.

Alex feels trapped, partly by his sense of filial duty, partly by the literal wall being built around the house said duty traps him in. So this feels like a Mover trigger.

Looking at the MOVERS document, I see elements of Takeoff (close relationship to the source of tension), maybe Hurdle (harassment), and Gate (long-term, but not long-term enough for a tinker power, because I don't want to write up a bunch of tinker powers). In reverse order, that's creating something that grants movement (like a launchpad or gate); a power that lets Alex "run, leap, climb and/or bound"; and an effect produced on departure.

There are a lot of ways to mix those ideas; imagine a power that could make boost pads like in racing games, or bounce pads like in platforming games, or...something not from video games. So let's look for the Parahuman Knife-Twist and build a power around that.

Alex is torn between his desire to help his family and the desire to leave. In theory there's a way to compromise those desires; living in a house surrounded by walls and whatever else Bob is building can't be good for them, right? So selling the house and moving somewhere else would be good for them, right? That's just not what they want. So a power that lets Alex move others (whether they want to be moved or not) seems like a good first step.

This Alex also doesn't have any goal more specific than "get away from Bob". He has a place he wants to escape, but not a specific destination. So maybe the movement should be unpredictable; he can decide on a general direction that someone bounces, but it's not precise or consistent.

So I was hanging out with a friend from the west coast today, and he mentioned an anecdote about some rich guy who was trying to buy up all the homes in a neighborhood, but there was this one guy who wouldn't sell no matter what, so the rich guy built giant walls on the edges of all the surrounding properties to try and drive the holdout insane from sunlight deprivation. I told my friend that this sounded like the kind of thing that would make for a fantastic trigger event. I told him I was going to turn this over to the wormblr brain trust to see what all of you would come up with

[adultemophase]

A VERY LONG ARCANE S2 REVIEW (Not spoiler free below page break)

Firstly, these are all my opinions and everyone is entirely entitled to their own. If you hated S2? That’s fine but I didn’t. So, I will be doing a kind of general breakdown of my thoughts on each act below but first my general review is that I think in terms of overall story telling, season 1 is better.

To ME, S2 seems like more of what they initially had in mind for the show, and they just really nailed the exposition of S1. This is what I think made S1’s pacing feel a lot better - it’s all exposition for S2. Season 2 had to fit a climax and resolution for all of these characters in the same amount of time that they took to set up all of these story lines in the previous season. I genuinely think that each act could have been it’s own season but w/ how expensive the show is to make and the amount of time production took between seasons, I see how that’s not practical. Especially if they want to explore other regions sooner than 15 years from now.

TBH I really enjoyed this season. I understand some people are hating it because of the parts they don’t like but it’s still a visually stunning show with great characters. Do I think there were areas where the story fell flat? Yes. I also think given the time constraints and restriction of this being the last season, the visual story telling was very well done and a great way to move along the story without sacrificing time. I genuinely think it’s such a phenomenal feat of animation that characters expressions convey thoughts and emotions that feel real without dialogue. I still am blown away that it’s a LoL show because despite my love of league lore and characters, I never would have expected that Riot could produce such a heart wrenching show about the tragic nature of love and loss, the things we do for love, and the flaws of our own humanity.

I also think some people set their expectations WAYYY too high for the social commentary aspect of the show after s1, as far as I’m aware there was never any claim made by any part of the prod or writing team that it would be one. Idk overall, I thought it was a lot of fun and still an exceptional show. Not what I was expecting but I’m not upset about how it ended. I think it was conclusive but also not so finite that it leaves zero room for interpretation of the characters implied futures.

It is a little disheartening to see so many immediate negative reactions to it but, again, people are entitled to their own opinions and as much as I complain about people not using critical thinking skills or passing grade 9 literature - art is subjective. Animation, ESPECIALLY at this scale and complexity, is a form of art. I, as I’m sure many other’s did, found it a fulfilling end to one of my favorite shows. Yes, I wish there was more but I can’t bring myself to be disappointed with what we did get.

Below is my (again PERSONAL and NOT SPOILER FREE) 1-10 rating and my thoughts on each act (not really going to analyze anything because I need about 3-5 weeks to scrub through every episode so only my little reviews) :

ACT 1 (7/10) : I think this act is the one with the worst pacing, but I said a whole back in a previous post that I believe to some degree it was intentional. There is suddenly a war happening so I think it’s supposed to feel chaotic a bit chaotic. However I can concede to part of it just being, well, bad pacing. This act is definitely one I wish could have taken up more episodes if there were more seasons since I would prefer flushed out development as opposed to music videos at the beginning of each episode. However, for what it was, they serve their purpose narratively and relay the information that the viewer needs to know. Otherwise, as heartbreaking as the act is, I gotta put myself on blast and say that I LOVE the end sequence of ep 3 when Ambessa makes Caitlyn commander. Like it’s so daunting and cool. Ep 1 fight scene at the memorial? super sick. I also loved the development of the dynamic between Sevika and Jinx. You can feel the characters devolve into a version of themselves that truly is worse and I think that’s so fun. Most of my drop in rating is from how fast it feels.

ACT 2: 9/10

I simultaneously have so much and so little to say. I won’t talk about Isha’s death because to me it was fairly evident that she was going to die from act 1. Anyways, for me this was the most tragic act and I’m still trying to decide between this and act 3 as my favorite. I love them both, in different ways. Seeing Jinx and Vi be brought together and Vander was so touching and sad. You get a real look of how much they still care for each other despite the fact that they’re perpetually ripped apart. I’ve already made a post about the scene between Caitlyn and Vi, so I won’t just say the same thing I’ve already said. I also honestly am not upset that Vi’s “six-ish months of going insane” wasn’t drawn out. Again, I don’t LOVE the music videos, but narratively, it tells you virtually everything you need to know about what’s happened to her and where she is mentally. It’s literally a montage of her life for the past several months. As a recovering addict and someone known to self destruct, I would much rather they condense that like they did rather than draw it out and not handle it well. If you’re going to be cynical, you could say they didn’t anyways but, recovering addict, so I was more worried before the act 2 release that it would be triggering rather than handled poorly.

Jayce coming back and tweaking out was also such a fun touch when it wasn’t explained until the next episode why he was acting that way. Like I figured it had to do with the hex crystal now fused with his body but it was still so interesting.

ACT 3: 9/10

Maybe unpopular but I LOVED this act. Everything was so visually intriguing that on my first watch I wasn’t even fully locked in just because I was focused on how good the imagery/animation is. I thought I was going to hate ep 7 because, unfortunately that leak was real (no I won’t be changing my pfp to a clown like I said I was bc I’m stubborn) but the implication to me of that episode was not “Vi dead so everything good!” it’s that they saw a kid die because of the crystals Jayce had and, in brevity, saw what the tension between the undercity and Piltover was doing to people. I am curious what happened to THAT universes Jayce but I imagine he was probably imprisoned.

Obviously, I have to address the sex scene, and honestly? I don’t mind that it’s in a jail cell BECAUSE of the very obvious parallel to how they first met. It was also done in such a wonderful way that it feels like a legitimately intimate scene between the characters and not just a “man well I suppose they need to fuck, huh.” or male gaze-y “lesbians 🤤” way.

I will be honest and say I don’t like multiverse stuff since it kind of kills the whole “arcane is cannon” thing. I also just don’t love it in general because in recent years it’s been just a cop out for companies to make more money off of IPs (see Marvel) but it makes me want to go back and rewatch s1 again to see if this has always been the plan. I don’t mind Viktor being the wizard that Jayce sees when he is a kid since they tied that up in a way thats really cool. I do think it’s an episode though that, after seeing it a couple of times, is easily skippable since it doesn’t really do a ton for the main plot. Like Ekko gets his Z drive, heimerdinger (i think?) dies, and Jayce discovers the damage hextech can do. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the episode, unfortunately it is just one that I feel like viewers can skip over upon rewatch because of the AU stuff.

Also MEL, I love her storyline with the black rose and I really hope that her putting on the Noxian clothing in the end is an indication that we will get more of her if Riot does a series based in Noxus.

[kalinara]

Oddly, I find myself inspired to talk about Scott/Emma today.

I want to disclaim first that I actually really do enjoy the Scott/Emma ship. I think, at their best, they were amazingly good for each other. I think she was the partner he needed at a time when he needed to be harder and more ruthless, less yielding, for the sake of the survival of their people. I think he helped her remember the good person that she;s always been capable of being, despite her anger, rage and pain, and made her want to be that person again.

But I will never not be frustrated by so many aspects of how the relationship began. And I'm going to get into them below the cut.

(Content warning: I'm going to discuss violation, victim-blaming, and sexual assault/rape.)

So, let me talk about my first frustration:

I will never be able to stop my knee jerk reaction whenever I see someone, in character or out, call it a "psychic affair", when it goddamn well wasn't.

(New X-Men #131)

What it was, was a case of therapeutic abuse. He went to her FOR THERAPY. The "affair" was conducted in the course of therapeutic sessions. This isn't just malpractice, something that, were Emma a real person in the real world, would cost her her license.

In the State of New York, real world, what Emma's doing is a prosecutable crime. Because a patient, in the course of therapy, has diminished capacity to consent.

And look, it's not that I think this is a deal-breaker to their future relationship. The X-Men are fucked up. We all know that. But it is irksome to me that, to this day, this is referred to as an "affair", and not a single character has ever pointed out that Scott was not actually a consenting equal partner here, but a victim.

(In retrospect, maybe THIS is the first initial sign that Hank McCoy was slowly drifting to the dark side, because I cannot imagine a man like DOCTOR Henry McCoy, of this era and before, not being seriously aware of and passionate about the ethical responsibilities that a doctor has to his patients.)

It's probably fair to note the Doyleist elements. It is possible that the writer/artist team never intended this to be as violating and victimizing as it is. But I am skeptical of this. You can't tell me that the people who wrote and drew THIS SEQUENCE:

(New X-Men #128)

did not know they were writing Emma as a sexual predator here.

(I have seen folks bring up the "defense" that Scott was a fucking idiot to go to her for help, as though that in any way excuses her actions. Surprise! Someone who has been recently traumatized does not make wise decisions! That is entirely shocking! It's almost like he might not be in a position to consent to a sexual relationship with someone claiming to act as a therapist!)

--

You know what's even more frustrating though? The shit Scott gets for the actual START of their relationship.

You remember how it goes? Jean's dead. Scott is at her grave, mourning. Emma goes to him with an offer - a relationship and a co-leader position at the school. He accepts and there's that infamous making out at the grave scene.

It's awful! It's completely understandable that this turns off a lot of folk both readers and in character.

Except that's NOT what initially happened.

THIS is the scene as it initially, actually happened:

(New X-Men #151)

So yeah, THIS is what actually happens. Emma makes her offer. Scott says no. He leaves.

But THEN we get a whole storyline with future bad things happening, and well, apparently someone gets the idea that there's one really good way to avoid all of that mess happening.

So in New X-Men #154, we get this:

And the same scene again:

The exact same scene. Same place, same dialogue, same time.

But what's Scott's response:

It's really hard not to read this as anything but Scott having his "No" literally rewritten to a "Yes" by a future version of his own wife.

And here's the thing, this isn't a meaningless action. Scott takes a LOT of shit from a LOT of his friends and family for this decision. Not just taking up with Emma so early after Jean's death, but also where it happens. THIS IS JEAN'S GRAVE after all.

Rachel, his DAUGHTER, is furious. She basically disowns him outright, switching to her mother's surname and costume. It isn't until the End of Greys (meanspirited bullshit of a story worthy of another rant someday), and their shared grief, that they're able to reconcile.

Hank, probably the closest friend he has at this time, is utterly disgusted. And so many others have similar reactions.

Look, it can be frustrating to read and talk about X-Factor because, in my opinion, so much of Scott's choices are mischaracterized and taken out of context. But at least those are CHOICES that he actually made.

This wasn't a choice! This was an incredibly fucked up act of spousal rape by proxy committed by a hypothetical future version of Jean, where all of the negative consequences fell on the victim's head. Both victims, really, because Emma was not a willing participant in the violation of her new partner.

And what makes it so much more frustrating is that this will never be addressed. There is, I think, a very slight chance that one day an actual, ethical therapist or Doctor might hear the story of the affair and point out "actually, no, that was actually something terrible that happened to you."

But no one is ever going to learn the truth here. Why would it even come up? Scott and Emma have been longer as exes (Krakoa polyamory possibilities aside) than they've been together. Jean isn't the same Jean, she's as innocent of this as young Hank is of any of Hank Prime's crimes.

So this will never get addressed, ever, and I will seethe eternally at yet another example of unjust treatment toward my favorite character. And I can't even be mad at the people involved this time (unlike AvX!) because he DID what they're mad at him about.

It's just he DIDN'T initially, and it's so frustrating.

--

Again, i don't intend this rant to reflect on Scott and Emma as a pairing on the whole. As I said above, I think, on the whole, the two have been very good for each other. I like the weird whatever-it-is they had going on in Krakoa.

(I could have done without that X-Men Blue storyline where she tries to psychically force baby Cyclops INTO adult Cyclops, but that's a rant for another day. I was really glad to see her back as a proper anti-heroine in Rosenberg's run later.)

I just hate that these darker parts of their origin have never been satisfactorily addressed and it will always bother me.

[korrahegao]

Mel Medarda is Kayle

Edit: This post does NOT contain spoilers or leaks for Arcane Season 2 Act 3. These are all just theories I have in regards to the season thus far.

The season finale is almost upon us, so this is my last chance to get this out. Allow me to explain:

When we last saw Mel, she had been captured by the Order of the Black Rose. While Arcane hasn't expounded much on this organization, we hear the voice tormenting her in her captivity call her: "Sister." I believe this is the voice of Morgana. More specifically, Blackthorn Morgana.

This Morgana skin shares so many design themes and even the color pallet of the thorny vines and spiked chains and even the rosebud motif of the Oculorum. Not to mention the obvious relation between Roses and Thorns (Black Rose and Blackthorn). Even her League of Legend Abilities; Dark Binding, Tormented Shadow, and Soul Shackles are comparable to their in game VFX.

Which brings us to Kayle. In the League of Legends lore, Kayle and Morgana are sisters with an animosity toward one another. Using this as a basis without diving into the deep lore, there are many aspects about Mel Medarda which lend some explanation to the events of Arcane.

At first glance, one can see the similarities in Mel's attire and that of Silver Kayle.

Moreover, Mel Medarda sports Golden filagree along her back and shoulders. These appear to accentuate (or perhaps inhibit) where Kayle's wings and pauldrons would be. Perhaps they are not merely decorative, but serve a deeper purpose.

As many who play LoL know, Kayle's Ultimate is Divine Judgement. Kayle protects herself or an ally granting them invulnerability before exploding in a luminous blast of holy fire.

Furthermore, In S2E1 when Jayce is explaining to Mel how he is trying to save Viktor, Jayce states:

"It should be me up there, instead of him. I still don't understand. He was right next to me. How does the explosion do that to him, and I just walk out without a scratch?!"

And perhaps more importantly, in S1E9, in the final scene, Mel Medarda is the one nearest to the window that Jinx's Super Mega Death Rocket shatters. Mel was in fact the one nearest to the epicenter of the Blast! But the penultimate image we see in Season one is... her golden filagree gleaming!

She and Jayce were unscathed because, perhaps subliminally or subconsciously, she was able to save herself and Jayce, the ally nearest to her, with her Divine Judgement. Councilor Salo lost his legs, and the other Councilwoman received scarring near her eye. And yet, Mel and Jayce were unharmed!

Lastly, the League of Legends wiki is undergoing an overhaul as Riot continues to implement the notion that "Everything is canon." There is a blurb on her wiki which reads:

This explanation is inline with Mel Medarda casting aside her humanity as pictured in the last scene we saw her in (S2E5) thus far. Historically, Kayle had been interpreted as an angelic figure. But the continually evolving lore of League of Legends eventually let to the implementation of her humanity. Further, the line about "her mother's mantle as the divine Aspect of Justice" does have a slight connotation toward Ambessa. At the end of S2E3, when endowing Caitlyn to her elevated position, she states:

"Your mother will have Justice. I swear it."

While this began as a gut reaction to Season 2 Episode 5, the more I delved into it, the more it grew into a coherent working theory. Now, I have no idea how the end of Arcane is going to play out, but there is an abundance of evidence here, and I actually am hoping this is the outcome!

Did I leave anything out? Anything to further prove this theory? Let me know! And thanks for reading!

[johnnylandslide]

For me, it was a line of easily-missable dialogue way back in ARR, when Tataru was still the receptionist at the Waking Sands! You talk to her at her chair, she does this cute little hop, and she says that she keeps a roster of all the members of the Scions, but you're her favorite, and she drew a little flower next to your name. Neither I nor Johnny would realize it until quite a bit later, but this was the specific inciting incident for both of us, LOL.

Aside from the cute factor (in which she is the champion unequaled in heaven and earth), I think Tataru and the WoL also just have a lot of really good chemistry together! She sometimes gets forgotten from lists of the Scions because she doesn't have any combat jobs, but she has basically the same amount of history with the WoL as Alphinaud, who is one of the closest characters in the game to the MC. She is the home the WoL can always come back to.

(Also, the scene on the docks in Sharlayan at the end of the Grand Endeavor quest line is like one line short of a marriage proposal. Some of the best wolship food in this game, and it's all for me lol)

That's just thoughts about her in general, though. I think she especially fits my OC well, too! The reason JohnnyTaru works so well as a ship to me is because the two of them are perfect representations to each other of their respective life goals. Let me explain.

Johnny initially became an adventurer in search of fame and recognition, but as he grew and matured, that grew into a more selfless desire to protect the peaceful aspects of the world. Tataru is both of those things; she's a cute girl who adores him for his heroics, but also being the Scions' representative of the crafting and gathering jobs, she is a microcosm of the non-militarized side of Eorzea. She represents everything Johnny is protecting when he picks up each expansion's level X0 quest and heads off into battle.

Tataru, on the other hand, has spent most of her life in pursuit of Things. Her family was wealthy for the first few years of her life, but they lost everything when she was still young, leaving her in the slums of Ul'dah, forced to work in the mines at a criminally young age. She eventually apprentices with a jeweler, meets Minfilia, and becomes the Scions' coinkeeper, but she's still not satisfied. Over the course of the game, she continues to grow in wealth and influence as she finds her passion and calling in weaving and turns that into a business that likely exceeds what her parents had run when she was a kid. I imagine she through a lot of that harbors fears that she might lose it again, or anxieties about "making it". To her, marrying the Warrior of Light is the final proof that she has "made it", and that she doesn't need to worry anymore.

Hopefully this didn't overshoot the intended word count of the assignment, LOL. I was thinking about this recently anyway, so thanks for giving me the opportunity to talk about it!

fellow wol x npc shippers- If applicable, what was the "oh" moment for you and your oc falling for their love interest? Was yours seperate from your WoL's?

[suchine-toki]

About Takasugi's abuse

The other day (totally not months ago) we were talking with @sakukaguxxi about how Takasugi’s relationship with his bio family is overlooked in character analyses. While Sorachi didn’t delve deeply into this aspect, which isn’t inherently bad, I think it’s important for understanding why he turned out the way he did.

We know two canon facts: (1) he comes from a low-class samurai family, and (2) he’s the firstborn. This suggests his family held noble status but struggled to maintain it. As a result, they relied on him to preserve their standing, enrolling him in a military academy and being strict about how he interacted with higher-status classmates.

To enforce this, they employed harsh punishments, such as starving him, tying him to a tree and leaving him in the cold for hours, or physically hitting him with enough force to draw blood when he was just a child (~10 yo?). On top of this, the threat of disownment loomed over him constantly.

These actions indicate they didn’t see him as a person or a child worth protecting but rather as a means to an end (maintaining their status). Consequently, he grew up devaluing himself and lacking the tools to express love in a healthy way. This likely explains why he became so attached to Shouyo and Gintoki.

For Shouyo, he was probably the first and only parental figure to treat Takasugi with genuine respect. While he disciplined him, it was always treated lightly and without causing him any real harm, unlike his bio father. Shouyo provided basic necessities like food, warmth, care, but also a sense of belonging.

Regarding Gintoki, a lot can and has been said. On this topic, he may’ve downplayed or misunderstood the extent of Takasugi’s abuse. This can be inferred from his comments before meeting Sakamoto, where he jokingly implies that Takasugi is still a “daddy’s kid,” even though he knows Takasugi was disowned.

This is interesting because Takasugi mentions being disowned long ago, yet for Gintoki, it doesn’t seem so distant. The timeline is unclear, perhaps Takasugi’s father disowned him during childhood, or maybe he tried to bring him back for years until eventually giving up when Takasugi was a teenager and considered irredeemable.

Moving into non-canon territory, if we consider Takasugi Shinsaku (the historical figure) for inspiration, some gaps can be filled. He was the firstborn, with three sisters, and bore the responsibilities of being the sole male heir. His father reportedly tried to steer him away from radicalism, even arranging a marriage for him to settle down.

This aligns with a seemingly banal joke, that Takasugi owned The Portopia Serial Murder Case and a console to play it (a Famicom?). At first glance, it’s odd that an abusive family would buy him such things. However, abusive individuals aren’t cruel all the time. They can oscillate between being harsh and showing kindness, creating a cycle of manipulation and gaslighting. This could explain why it took Takasugi some time to leave, perhaps he realized they needed him more than he needed them or that they would never truly love him.

The lasting effects on him are evident. Takasugi struggles to express himself in ways that don’t involve violence, and saw himself as disposable, with no strong sense of self. He fought for Shouyo’s freedom, for Gintoki’s tears, and later, for Gintoki’s happiness. While these were his choices, they were never about himself, they were for the people he held close to his heart.

[allsadnshit]

I had some intense dreams about going back to my hometown because today we drive back to visit for the first time in a while

Because we were moving over the summer we didn't get to make one of our annual trips this year so it feels like it's been forever since the last time - and I haven't been back for thanksgiving in like 4 or 5 years now!

I have always wondered what it would feel like to visit home after really and truly moving away since for a while I couldn't even picture leaving even though I knew I wanted to... and we always visited during strange times where no one was around partially on purpose and partially by chance, and now we are coming home for the first time during the coming home season and I am excited and a little nervous

So much has changed for me since the last time I was back! Of course every day shifts us a tiny bit and that always amounts to something - but this last year particular has been a really big push into a new direction for me with how I see myself and also how I interact with others, and I feel really different about coming home than I had in previous trips. I feel like I've come into myself in a very new way over the spring and summer and that now it feels natural to me but it's actually still quite new.

One of the biggest changes is I've started to feel nervous/excited again rather than just nervous/scared for things, even if they might be intimidating or uncomfortable, I've remembered the part of myself that enjoys challenges and also is honestly a little confrontational. In my early 20's something happened in my heart that just made me feel fearful all the time and like there was nothing to like about difficult situations, and after I faced a very old wound head on at the beginning of last year and then allllll through till I moved, it made me get back in touch with having more of a sense of pride and also fire in me that I forgot used to be a primary aspect of my personality.

So although I am sure there could be some difficult things about being home this week - I am really excited to see it all through my current vision