#or maybe just the lack of other respectable adult figures in his life

[shigayokagayama]

i like how out of the kids (or the ones who regularly interact with him anyway) teru seems to be the only one who actually respects reigen. like by the end as much as he looks up to and care about reigen even mob thinks hes kind of cringe and has no qualms throwing an entire cake in his face.

[moe-broey]

I hope you feel better soon!!! Telepathically blowing up covid with my mind.

Got a simpler ask this time. Think the Askr crew have any nicknames for each other? The idea occurred me because I thought it would be funny if the summoner never EVER refers to Veronica by her full name. It started as a bit to annoy her but naturally became part of their dynamic. I think this group of weirdos deserve more quirks like that with their dynamics with each other.

TBANK YOU...... I am actually starting to feel better now!!! It must have been your power.... or just the passage of time and lots of rest.

I did... WAY too much here and got really off topic and Moe did take over. I'm so sorry. I barely control that thang. But also!!! A lot of these ideas have lived in my mind for a long time now, I just never got around drawing them out! I'm. Gonna try and organize this the best I can, bc I have SO much to say and it all kinda flows into each other...

This will be one half comic collection, one half character analysis and headcanons. Ready... GO!

FIRST OF ALL. THAT IS SO FUNNY. AND SO REAL. I can ABSOLUTELY see Kiran doing this. If you're a responsible adult figure in a kid's life, no matter the context, you Have to find harmless ways to annoy them. You have to find the bit, and commit to it. Just, um... well under most circumstances, said kid doesn't wield magic and have a giant spikey crown (making for lethal headbutts). So just be careful out there. 🫡

As for Moe... it kind of lacks that quality. Always a bit too in its head, often floundering in one way or another. Moe tends to love at a distance, has a lot of trouble expressing it, and often decides, well. It's just not my place. It seems especially standoffish about Veronica... it can't help but see its younger self in her. In more ways than one. Ultimately, it would avoid giving her a nickname, as a show of respect (it knows she wouldn't like that). It will speak extremely affectionately and highly of her behind her back, but minds its place to her face.

The fun thing about Alfonse's name is that you can extrapolate one thousand variations of it. Which is exactly what Moe does once it gets comfortable with him. And given enough rapport, Alfonse will happily respond to every single one (... except Alfonso). Al is the most casual nickname, that doesn't turn any heads. Allie seems to be the most favored one! (By Moe, or by Alfonse....? Or by Alfonse, as a consequence of Moe's liking for it?)

Sharena's name lends itself well to nicknames too! But Moe seems to exclusively go for Shari. EXTREMELY EXCITED at this show of friendship, Sharena tried her best to return the favor... but it didn't quite stick!

(As a side note! I wish I could have drawn more interactions here... just them going in circles mirroring each other. And one panel that would have been so sweets and speaks to Moe's character... snippet from my notes:

[Both of them become crestfallen.

Moe perks up a little. "'s fine. You can jus' stick to Moe. It is the name I chose, after all." <- It says this with an air of pride]

But I worked too cramped and didn't have the space to include it! 🥲💔)

LASTLY. Okay I have something really specific going on in the back of my head, here. But Lif does not tolerate nicknames. At the first whiff of it, he's shooting it down. This isn't a case where you can playfully get on his nerves and maybe eventually with enough time he softens to it. No. He isn't just being a killjoy about it, either. He... has his reasons. Don't press it.

OKAY. GRABS MOE W A CANE AND YANKS IT OFFSTAGE. GET OUTTA HERE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

-

PART 2 OF THIS POST. Just a liiiiittle analysis and some headcanons!!!!

First. Of course. Alfonse. This is my stance. I feel very strongly about this. But Alfonse is NOT the type who uses nicknames. He doesn't do petnames, either. He is a man of many adjectives and weird relationships with titles. What does this mean?

Alfonse will use a title to refer to someone, to keep his distance. Up until somewhere along the way he catches a snag and suddenly he's romanticizing the title. Now the title holds a Weight to it. An emotional significance. The title is now a term of endearment. Unless if it isn't. The title is used for exclusively practical reasons. The title is a show of respect, to honor the individual in question. It means nothing. It means Everything.

LIKE. LIKE. When he's not being Weird about titles (using a title to keep himself emotionally distant from the receptient), he's. Being Weird about titles (using them to express WHAT that person Is to him, what that means to him, and how he feels!!!!). ADD IN THE ADJECTIVES. He fucking LOVES to use adjectives in place of nicknames/petnames. He is just a wordy fella. You can even catch him getting silly with it, if the mood strikes him. WAY over the top, doing Way Too Much.

Off the top of my head I don't have many examples. They come to me in visions and are gone as soon as they came. But. My fellow associate. My brother in arms. My deeply valued and highly esteemed comrade. My cherished partner (... trusted partner, even). My dearly beloved friend. My friend. HEAVY emphasis on "My Friend". Somehow, that's like a declaration of love from him. Unless if it isn't. "My Friend" still carries SO much meaning to him, though.

Honestly writing this out I'm realizing Alfonse is just the king of taking words that mean something and then making them mean something else. Imbuing his own meaning to it, between the lines. Hiding behind it. HE IS ALSO. THE KING. OF PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. Alfonse asks "Is anyone going to endlessly complicate the situation or" and doesn't wait for an answer.

ONE NOTE. Is how titles are used as formalities, and how he's also just always so ready to drop them. You kinda have to play this by ear, considering the context of the interaction... really, whether or not he uses a title, and How he uses that title, is extremely reflective of his current emotional state. Can be reflective of the stakes, and the nature of the relationship too. Like the many occasions where he first meets a Hero, and both decide to be on a first name basis fairly quickly. Then you have his whole "The Summoner" vs saying their name, deal. And then you have whatever I'm cooking, here.

AND. AND. DON'T MISS IT! THAT IS THE FINAL PIECE I NEGLECTED TO MENTION UNTIL NOW! NAMES!!!!! A person's name holds SO MUCH EMOTIONAL WEIGHT. TO HIM. When he calls someone by name, it Means something to him. Which to me, lends to the idea that he wouldn't come up with a nickname for someone, himself. If they standardly use a nickname, he'll probably use it. Then, you have the added intimacy of the full name. But to me. What makes the most sense for his character, is that he ascribes meaning to names and titles.

The ONE. "Petname" I will accept, from Alfonse. Is "My love". Because that does feel in-line with everything I've said here. It becomes something of a title, itself. But even then, when I play it out in my head, it's always said as part of something greater, building UP to something, instead of being the main goal??? Like. To me, forever and always. "My friend" will ALWAYS hold way more emotional weight. Anything with too much of a romantic connotation to it just falls flat, ESPECIALLY on its own. Like NO........ they're MORE than that..... it's More Complicated than that...... you can't just reduce them to something so clean-cut. Dare I say normative... <- guy who has problems and complexes voice

That is. VERY MUCH just how I personally feel. Because I have something wrong with me. I'm fucked up and evil. Sick and twisted, even. (... or possibly aromantic.) Moving on!

-

MY FINAL THOUGHT. Is how does all this factor in, between Alfonse and Sharena? Well! To be so real I got so distracted I think I'll just barely edit these notes. And give you some screenshots about it.

When talking to Sharena, he may call her "sister" or "my sister" as like. Terms of endearment. Which is ironic a bit, in how they do come off as a bit stilted and distant. I can also see him getting extra about it though... him calling her, "my sweet sister" / "my beloved sister" either in moments of vulnerability OR. Moments before disaster (VIOLENCE....). Also "my little sister" as a term of endearment...

Also! Supporting this idea, one canon instance where he simply calls her "sister":

And!!! Both Alfonse and Sharena do the "call your sibling by their title as a term of endearment" thing. Sharena's version is a little less stilted than Alfonse's, but still may come off as odd to someone not too familiar w them (her, often calling him "big brother". Many canon instances of this!)

IT'S A SITUATION OF. Well for one I think it would flow a lot better in Japanese tbh, where honorifics like that are not out of the ordinary, they're standard. Where at most it's just a bit of a childish way to refer to him, almost reads like a childhood nickname that stuck??? (I think it depends on what variation of it you use, too. I'm only a little bit familiar w it!). But the thing is. The other half of this thought. It's a situation of "No Normal Person Talks Like That" BUT. If a character DOES. That's noteworthy and says something about them. And I think this goes for both of them! It speaks to the strict and formal environment they were raised in. If Sharena ever had a nickname for Alfonse that wasn't "big brother", it's probably gone now.

Also... another odd thought.... this sort of absence and emotional distance between them (esp early on, also citing Dragalia Sharena "I never bonded with my brother in such a fashion" and the Rosado FBs). That's your Brother. That's what he is, so you call him that. He calls you by title. That's what you are, he acknowledges that. That's what ties you two together. It's supposed to mean something. I'm supposed to mean something, to you. You're supposed to mean something, to me. These titles are proof of that. The blood we share is a bond, in and of itself. Emphasize it enough and maybe we can manufacture something, here.

ACTUALLY.... AAUGHH.......... OKAY NOW I'M CONSIDERING PEONY. HOW THE CHANGELING TWIST FACTORS INTO THIS. BECAUSE. BECAUSE. It's SHOWN that Sharena/Peony has informal titles/nicknames for family on Triandra's side.

Their father wasn't Father (like Gustav), he was Papa. Triandra wasn't sister or big sister, she was sis.

Aaaand that's where my brain short-circuited, blew up caught on fire and charred to a crisp. Sad! But SURELY. This, and EVERYTHING ELSE. Might give some pointers...?

LIKE. MAYBE THE CONSENSUS HERE. Is maybe Sharena did have a nickname for Alfonse, and in general is more likely to use nicknames. Maybe at one point it was "corrected" out of her when it comes to Alfonse, and now it would feel unnatural to do so. Meanwhile, Alfonse never really had any nicknames for her, but always has and still does use her name with So Much emotional weight. Plus the titles and adjectives. The FOCAL THING. About the Askr siblings. Is that they both adore each other SO much, but neither really know how to express it. There is an undeniable emotional distance between them. I feel like, taking this angle with them... the stiltedness, the forcing of affection that's already there, just somehow out of reach or beyond their grasp. I think writing them like this captures that.

I'll. Leave you to decide where Anna fits into any of this. And anyone else. I'm down for the count. To dust.

FINAL FINAL DISCLAIMER. You can take any of this or leave it! These are just the things that run through my head, when I write The Character... I really hope this answered. Anything. At all. Parse through my scatterbrained visions boy...... GOOD LUCK 🫡👍 (AND THANK YOU!!!!! FOR THE ASK!!!!!!!! Enrichment...... much needed in these trying times......)

[slashthrashandcrash]

Susie is Ghostface's favorite Legion member, but who is his least (and why is it Frank LOL)?

YOU KNOW WHAT ACTUALLY my hot take is that Julie is his least favorite and here's why:

Susie is obviously his favorite for the sole reason that she's the easiest to manipulate into doing what he wants with little to no backtalk and generally respects him as a trusted adult. Frank, while an absolute pain in his ass, is still an attention starved trauma-king that will do anything for praise as long as Danny throws a few 'atta boy's his way. Joey is impulsive and goes along with the crowd, it doesn't take Danny much convincing to get him in on something, especially if the other brats egg him on as well.

Overall those three are extremely easy to manipulate into doing what he wants for one common denominator: daddy issues. Frank? Foster kid since 6yo bouncing between abusive homes. Susie? Neglectful parents at best and a physically abusive dad at worst. Joey? We don't know when or why his dad left, but all he has now is his mom after his brothers went down a bad path, he's lacking a strong male presence at home. All three of them crave the praise/validation of an older mentor, doubly so if it can come in the form of a father figure they severely lack. Someone they can look up to and imitate and maybe make proud, even if they'd never outwardly admit it (Frank).

But Julie? Julie doesn't need anything from Danny. Yeah, sure, she thinks he's pretty fucking cool for being Ghostface, the notoriety around him, but it's more of liking him as a groupie for a band than anything. She had good, loving parents in her life, she doesn't need to seek out any kind of affection because she was never starved of it. Even when it comes to attention, she has Frank and Susie wrapped around her finger, Danny can't even try to play into some sort of teenage girl crush.

It's much harder to make her listen if it's something she doesn't want to do. She likes to push his buttons and there's not much he can say/do to make her knock it off. She likes to fight back because she can and because she likes seeing him get grey hairs, knowing he'd have to offer up something really freaking good to make anything worth her time. He's not a mentor to her, he's her equal in her eyes, so don't go around trying to treat her like she's in the junior leagues.

All of which to say he doesn't hate her or anything, she's just his most difficult to control. The probability of Julie doing what he asks is 50/50 depending on her mood and if the others are already involved. They're definitely more on the level of "friends" than "not-dad".

[phoenixcatch7]

Random mdzs headcanons that I don't think interfere with canon:

Though sufficient cultivation cures this, lwj is short sighted. (this is because of that mxtx interview but if he actually was short sighted he would be wearing glasses in canon.) Similarly, so would lxc and lqr is already halfway there lol.

Wen chao is barely older than the main cast. Like a couple years at most. This is is because it took until his poor wife (who shall forever be unknown, rip) being mentioned for me to go 'that's an ADULT?!'. Everything from the voice to the face to the short sighted immaturity and the lying to adults in charge, there's no way this guy is anything over 20.

Lqr isn't a very strong cultivator for all his technical skill is impeccable. I think this because I thought he was young grandparent age when he's the uncle!! It's too much stress! Major props.

He's also aromantic! We know that nothing will stop a lan in love, much to their detriment, but not only does lqr seem to regard the lot of them as idiots for finding the absolute worst choices ever but I feel if he'd also loved and lost it would have been... Relevant.

Jfm was gay, and his unrequited love was wcz. Alternate sexualities (and queerness as a whole) is one of those things that's still so dangerous in many countries, and I guess ancient fantasy China is one of them! Poor mxy. Anyway that plus arranged marriages plus jfm being an only child (to my knowledge) and needing heirs... Yeah I feel like that's one of those things that happens. It's common all throughout history, forcing people into het relationships for any number of reasons or risk social (or even physical) death. I could so easily trace how that would have affected him through the courtship, marriage, his parents, him genuinely trying to love yzy and maybe deep inside knowing it was doomed to fail, her intelligence picking up on that and trying to figure out how she was unworthy, her feeling hurt and disrespected, getting more and more paranoid and sensitive as it wears on, her being so close to the right answer but correcting her would expose him. Him just trying to settle for mutual respect and teamwork and her never getting what she needs to be fulfilled in life, what she was raised and trained all her life in preparation for. The way he's so unwilling to force his kids to do anything miserable and the way he's so quick to call off the engagement when all he's hearing is disinterest and incompatibility. I could make this a whole post on its own but I fully believe this man lived and died like so many other queer people have in the past - never being able to find out who he truly was, and that he wasn't broken for not being the way he needed to be. Wangxian have an easier time of it, but when there's stories like mxy? People keep their heads down. He raised jc the way he was raised, and he turned out fine. It wasn't their fault he was such a failure of a son.

To cheer things up, I firmly believe that wwx is bisexual af. Just because lwj is his soulmate doesn't mean he's not. Are you an mxtx protag if you're simply, straightforwardly gay? I think not.

Though I do wonder if jc being Banned From Women was 100% an entirely whoopsie daisy accident. Sometimes standards are supposed to be impossible... Now I think about it, the certainty lwj hated wwx, the total lack of any partner, the focus on jl, the constant frustration with wwx's flirting and incomprehension with jyl crushing on jzx... I think the women are the only straight ones in the family, cuz he's sounding the aroace bell! Good for him tbh!!! Break the cycle!!!!

Lsh is the child of either wrh, wc, jgs, or two perfectly lovely normal people who died in war/childbirth. He was 100% a village kid, so thank goodness they all stepped up. I feel like one of the wens would have told wwx his parentage either way, so if he hasn't told anyone else I can't imagine it's great.

Each sect is associated with an element. The wens of course were fire, the nie earth, the lan air, the jin water (koi/carp tower), and the jiang are lightning (given we assume yzy and the jiang territory are compatible (her husband is probably water lol oof)). Years of specialised clan training and select marriages have caused the clan members qi to take on movement (at minimum) matching the respective elements. This is based on the anime, where everyone has nice handy colour coded qi, but the twin jades have the prettiest cloud texture that perfectly matches their crest and wwx has an almost lightning spiky red with just enough smoulder to make he sure he's a fire type. This also!!! Matches their fighting styles, have you noticed?? Idk if they did it on purpose or not but it's so cool!!! Wwx and jc are constantly moving, redirection, bounce and flip around; lwj and lxc are very twirly, lots of attacks from above, lwj often lets his sword fly mid battle, and of course the music! And the nie are very... Brick wall lol. I'd say NHS is air? Maybe? Water?

This one's a bit silly, but I like to imagine csr and bsr are mother and daughter from a distant land where people use their surnames last (gasp) and it wasn't really important to bsr cuz secluded mountain but they did figure it was going to be a problem a touch late. 'oh but phoenix they have different spellings in Chinese' csr got asked 'oh so like the immortal?' panicked and changed it on the spot. Her husband's nicknames all use her 'surname', he's the only one who knows about the mix up.

Spinning in the air helps you change an attack or helps you float. Yes this is based entirely on the anime (donghua?) where even the most serious of characters (lwj) do three full rotations before landing a big attack midair. It might be so he has time to get his guqin out lmao.

Jc is left handed, I'm pretty sure that's anime canon at least. Any good swordsman (or dual sword whip wielder!) can do a little ambidexterousness tho.

Wwx can do decent guqin cuz he's the gentleman prodigy of the arts but he probably whittled a dozen dizi out of roadside bamboo on long journeys to entertain himself which is why chengching was such a fine tuned spiritual tool.

The jiangs were a great sect lead by good people in an ehhhh family. Individually they're all actually decent people but they bring out the worst in each other even as it keeps them all in check.

I firmly believe that yzy was holding back a LOT when made to whip wwx in front of the wen wench. That's a whole entire spiritual weapon and she was going at it wildly in a barely stable environment. Compare that to lwj who took the discipline whip not too many more times (if any) and was rendered bed bound if not house bound for years recovering (and grieving) and over a decade later is still a mass of scar tissue. And that was an orderly and structured punishment using materials designed to NOT kill the victim, not a whole entire LIGHTNING MURDER WEAPON. Wwx was back on his feet minutes later sword fighting, rowing, carrying jc on his back... Lwj is the more realistic result, real whips can be lethal, and very, very dangerous. They are excruciatingly painful and if you make a mistake they can easily flay skin and muscle to crack bone. You're not supposed to strike the same patch of skin twice. Yeah wwx and his stupid pain tolerance but I truly believe him and yzy were in full accord in that moment with the roles they had to play (and jc hated every second). She could at least have apologised... in the middle of heated battle for her home and life though....

Lwjs eyes are gold and sunset and stars' YES ALSO BUT I looked at them and my immediate reaction was 'that's a bird of prey'. They're LITERALLY falcon eyes, they're identical, and I've never once seen that comparison :(. He's already piercing/intense/pinning/scouring, (and his anime eyeliner and dark lashes look like the markings) he's so perfect for the metaphor. Make it that wwx is the rabbit prey, come on.

Why is wwx sun coded but moon aesthetic and lwj moon coded but sun aesthetic like how's that fair why does it always happen.

Stop blaming wwx for Suiban he admits he came up with a zillion good names and it was jfm who didn't pick any and named it as a joke. Ngl if that was my trusted person who went and did that I would have been gutted but hey wwx thrives. I do feel like jfm naming the sword that wwx sacrifices to save jc is grounds for some angst at the very least.

Lxc was definitely in some situation with the other two because he does read as a parallel to lwj. Their romantic lives are basically inversions of each other, you could hold a graph up to a mirror. It's just that lwj was so deeply lucky to get wwx back, and he fell in love with someone true to himself. Lxc just got used and left with the ashes, no matter how much true love was on either side. Wwx chose family, kindness and community with poverty and jgy chose greed and power and wealth for total isolation. It was NHS that inverted their fates, but either brother's love could only come at the cost of the other. Poor qiren...

All those fancy huge ribbons in everyone's hair (again it's the anime donghua) are special and ridiculously sturdy ribbons given by the parents they wear in varying styles to tie it all up and as they grow up so they don't trip on it. This is a silly headcanon but I love it cuz those ribbons are stupid long and literally everyone has it. Maybe it's the mdzs equivalent of the guan ceremony?

Wwx has for sure done cannibalism.

Ooh painful headcanon time - his parents died in yiling right? And all corpses get tossed into the mounds for centuries, right? Nonzero chance wwx's parents bodies broke his fall.

Lwj gets wwx a mule for a birthday/festival cuz those guys are basically the perfect mounts humans are ever going to get, they're just v rare and infertile. They're smart and brave as donkeys and fast and strong like the horse, resulting in an animal that is down for mounted parkour with the right training. And then lwj can ride a horse alongside wwx when they go travelling ^^. Idk I just think it'd be super cute.

Wwx only comes up with good names when he's doing real bad. Names when he's doing good: Suiban, li'l apple, rulan (after his bf). Names when he's doing bad: chengqing, yin iron tally/stygian tiger amulet, compass of evil.

[voxofthevoid]

(Feel free to ignore this if this is too much or I'm overstepping)

I think I picture a Getou and Yuuji relationship (or at least in the scenario of Gojou keeping Getou in his basement) as Yuuji just smothering him in blatant sincere care and worry. Doing things like trying to get Getou to smile(sincerely), feeding him home cooked meals, bringing back trinkets or flowers he's picked, just something to brighten his day. He just slowly works his way past Getous defenses.

Possibly devolves into arm/leg/back massages to try and make him more comfortable? To get touching rolling plot wise? Or Yuuji offers hugs? Accidnetal Cuddling during a movie? Falling asleep on someone's shoulder?

And any hostility, insults and lashing out at Yuuji(in the beginning?) is just water off a ducks back to him, Yuuji just keeps coming back, or maybe Yuuji would possibly respond to said hostilities with "Sukuna has said worse/called me worse things" which could be a punch to the gut depending on what it was Getou had said.

Maybe they'd bond over knowing curses tasting absolutely awful? maybe Yuuji could end up cannibalizing Mahito after a chat with Getou? Like he took inspiration from him? And just chomped? Or just curses in general after talking with Getou about his technique? Comparing everyday curses to eating Sukuna's poison. If eating Sukuna won't kill him what could it hurt to eat some curses kind of thing? Sorry that is a bit off topic, i have no idea what kind of plot you'd be going for for this fic. I'll stop rambling now sorry

Anyways it is admittedly kinda hard to picture what their interactions would be like, and i am definitely looking forward to seeing how you decide to portray their relationship. You mentioned not quite knowing what to do with a Yuuji/Getou relationship or something, so I hope this might help you get an idea of how you would or would not want to flesh them out!

You're not overstepping, dw, but you are about to find out how picky and particular I am about characterization, especially when it comes to Yuuji 😂

First of all, in JJK, my process for figuring out a specific character or relationship involves just simmering in canon for a while (for other fandoms, I usually mixed canon with extensive fic reading, but with JJK, I don't engage with fanfic much, so it's just canon that's relevant) before taking the plunge and writing something. For instance, serpent tongue and little lamb are how I got a handle on Gojou and Yuuji, respectively, as well as goyuu in general, while isolation neophyte and bloodstains on the collar helped me sort out Nanami and Sukuna, in that order.

So with Getou/Yuuji, the main issue is that they have zero canon interactions; on top of that, while I'm pretty comfortable writing Yuuji at this point, I've only tackled Getou in very small doses, mostly from Gojou's PoV. The sole Getou PoV thing I wrote was also very Gojou/satosugu-focused. Both the relationship and one half of the ship are uncharted waters for me, which means I'll need to either actually write or envision/outline their scenes to get a handle on them. Since that plot bunny is low on my priority list, that likely won't happen unless I'm suddenly zapped by inspiration.

Now, the thing with Getou/Yuuji is that they'd be fairly easy to sort out in a peer AU, like a senpai-kouhai situation, or even a modern AU. Adult Getou in canon complicates matters because he is, at his core, a genocidal bigot. Yuuji's not lacking compassion for his enemies, but he's also fucking violent toward them. And the one thing he can't stand is people who devalue life—which is precisely what Getou does, only applied to non-sorcerers instead of everyone. He's hardly shy about his ideology either, given that he believes himself to be in the right. Two minutes of honest conversation, and the man would land himself in Yuuji's shitlist along the likes of Mahito and Sukuna.

Compassion and kindness wouldn't really be his go-to techniques there. And Yuuji's pretty tolerant of insults directed toward him, in that he doesn't take them to heart most of the time, but he also bites back easily and often—look at how he treats his grandpa in the hospital, how he's visibly exasperated with Gojou, how he banters with Nobara and Todo. With Getou, there wouldn't be any fondness to make him tolerant of any bullshit, and Yuuji's default friendliness wouldn't survive one(1) explication of Getou's ideology.

I don't think he'd write Getou off. God knows the kid didn't write off Sukuna himself, in the end. And unlike Sukuna or even Mahito, Getou appears reasonable and open to dialogue, though the few canon conversations we see along those lines didn't really go anywhere. Still, there are conversations to be had there, but they'd be arguments two exchanges in. Yuuji's staunch faith in the inherent value of life is fundamentally at odds with Getou's equally firmly entrenched ideology about sorcerers and non-sorcerers.

And then there's Gojou, engineering this situation and watching whether it'll work out or backfire. There's also weird dubiously consensual sex complicating matters from almost the get-go.

It's a soupy scenario. I'll tackle it eventually, assuming my interest in JJK lasts long enough.

[metalmaul]

haha yeah remember like way way back maybe 14 years ago or so when there were users on this website who made those "sometimes the curtains are just blue" jokes & caused all media literacy to die forever more haha yeah haha, hi! hi, i was one of those! i killed all literacy, whoopsie!!!! i guess i just simply never ever learned about symbolism or understood any sort of point of anything in media ever again. i know lol i can't understand color or anything ever it just whizzes right over my head to this very day!!!

so, here's some thoughts to share from my perspective. in my case personally, i liked reading back then. i even liked some books that were assigned reading in school & participated with enthusiasm about them in class. there are some people who didn't like reading in general, and almost every time that's actually because they struggle to read. it is something that is incredibly difficult for them to do & not just general laziness or being ignorant forever on purpose. when you hear "i don't like reading" or "i haven't read a book in years" you might not want to gun it to "idiot" because actually, haha, that word's origin also applied to some people that others thought were not smart or worthy of respect because of a certain disability & having greater difficulty than most people to do something they find basic. instead i would recommend thinking "I wonder why that is," because that total lack of sympathy actually just discourages everyone.

anyway, some assigned reading books did not appeal to me, which made me not want to read them but there was this whole "i have to" aspect to it that made me really like the whole thing less somehow. now, to address any commentary: i can absolutely respect if a book is historically imprortant & one of the best ever written, much like all things. music, films, and art are just the same. i do not deny it. however, knowing that cannot make me enjoy something that i just personally do not. conversely, i can recognize & acknowledge when something is terrible & it sucks, but that won't stop me from enjoying it if i do.

something else very important that i think a lot of people have not considered for quite some time: sharing a joke on the internet does not actually mean that you just go to class and say "fuck you. they're just blue." the thing about school is that they give you the choice of figuring some shit out even if you do not want to at all or failing. lots of people mad about this really forget that in school you do school & on the internet you might share a joke. perhaps it is a joke that is very illiterate, even. you like the joke because you maybe really don't want to talk about symbolism in some book you don't want to read in the building you aren't allowed to leave where you spend hours & hours day after day for years being told you have to do a stack of things that you really do not want to by several adults & at least 1/3 of the town's teenaged population is trapped in this same building as you & this all happens at a stage of life where your brain & libido & emotions are cranking up to "nuclear reaction explosion" & down to "should i kill myself?" levels rapidly back & forth all day for a few years & your parents happen to legally own you & your home life is really a custom mix of making life worse generally— for me personally, there was a villain that i knew in that life chapter who was doing cool things like attempted murder so maybe that had some influence on my permanent illiteracy idk... so the joke really just takes the sting out of that whole carousel of shittiness you're experiencing, because you really would like to just not have to think about shit that you don't want to for just a moment, y'know, like just a little. on behalf of all of us, our deepest apologies about the whole destroying all understanding of media forever. not intentional.

now, incredibly, i actually analyzed & thought about many pieces of media at length & with enthusiasm quite often after my brain had settled down from maximum overdrive & i got to own myself & i wasn't in high school & things of such nature. however, i had slowly been declining in my ability to read which had started in high school, but i don't think that was because of a joke i reblogged. i just leveled up in disability on many fronts & reading became, to my dismay, so challenging that i don't read books anymore. i would sure like to. i like short story collections because my brain & my eyes don't fizzle out quite as much if it's little bursts of story instead of a slow burning candle. i also do the best with graphic novels which are an incredible aid for me. the text being broken up & spread out, the illustration accompaniment because when that "can you picture an apple" meme went around, i became aware that i don't make pictures in my head! it did explain why through all my years of reading in hindsight i simply could not picture things in books the way other people did. as a child, i'd read a book & a friend would ask me how i imagine someone/something looked like & unless there was also a film or illustrations, i just didn't! i didn't know what lots of stuff looked like. i wasn't sure how anyone was doing that.

i think that's all i have to say on this topic. i can say i have become friends with some other people over the years who also shared this joke online & they have managed to also have a grasp of media literacy despite a joke they liked in high school. i personally feel like maybe we shouldn't assume that something you thought was funny as a teenager necessarily continued to be representative of the rest of your life. i would also like to offer the idea that media illiteracy has been a problem for a very, very, very long time, & i'm sure this is an issue with quite a lot of factors & might require a pretty complex plan to improve over time that i don't have a lot of faith will happen any time soon. it would require things like "more support" & "teaching children in different ways because no one learns anything the same way" & already I'm hitting lol nah we aren't doing that x2.

[credince--writes]

Payphone

JITTERSVERSE

AO3

"And the maggots that eat my flesh will eat yours too! But they won't eat until I'm good and fucking ready- because I can't even say I'm good anymore!"

Things can go to shit a lot easier than they can get better.

John knew that.

He also knew that women were an angry type of creatures.

He remembered being a boy, his Dad angering his Ma, and than the groveling that would take place for the next week just for him to be able to sleep in the same bed as her again.

“Remember Johnny. The worst thing you can ever do.” She said, tugging his Dad’s head down by his ear. “Is to make a woman mad.”

Seem’s like it would pale in comparison to some of the things he’d done in his life- shit, some of the things he’d been doing now.

He’d split from the group, leading a small team of men toward a building to clear it out.

It’s why they called him Soap, after all.

They’d cleared the building, the eerie quiet drifting through the air save for the sounds of their boots creaking against the floors of buildings they weren’t welcome in.

��Building three clear.” He spoke into his radio.

“Copy.”

Ghost.

They’d have their ups and downs. This was just one of them. At least, that is how he would defend it in his mind, they just weren’t getting along as smoothly as they normally would-

Was that why he sent them off in a separate group?

No, 

This was tactical Johnny.

No need to be getting stupid out in the field.

The entirety of this shit show had them all on edge, ready to fall off the counter on edge. Maybe it was because they were back in Mexico, or maybe it was other things.

“Who else could it be? This is going to be Graves all over again.”

“Just thought you wouldn’t want to talk to ‘Graves all over again’.”

He was conflicted.

He saw the hurt that flashed in her eyes.

The look of fear as she sat at that table with the laptop propped up, all eyes on her. 

He knew how that felt.

He could remember sitting in the disciplinary office of the school, the looming figures of adults hoving over him. Disappointed glances boring into his skull to the point it felt like his lungs were full of glass- that the back of his throat was on fire and he couldn’t breathe through his nose anymore.

What had it even been about, all of those years ago?

A broken window, he thinks.

The kid next to him- what was his name again?

Samuel Trablet.

Little bastard.

He’d broken the window with a rock- the sound of the shattering glass had caused all of the kids to scramble. Maybe it was the initial shock- a lack of understanding of the severity of what had happened. But a teacher zeroed in on him, grabbing hold of his arm and dragging him straight to that dreadful office.

He hadn’t done anything, he’d claim.

Their looks didn’t change.

The evidence was stacked against him- even if it was obvious he hadn’t done it with the children running away behind him.

It was the lack of trust.

His Ma didn’t believe him, and oh did he pay for it when he got home.

His Ma didn’t believe him.

That distinct look of disappointment graced her features during the car ride home. “I’m very angry with you Johnny. Just wait until your Father hears about this.”

His body moved through the building, lifting the rifle up and clearing each part of the room, piece by piece. Second nature to him now, it was easy. His brain didn’t have to work while he did this, it was therapeutic, in a way. The potential action sending adrenaline flowing through his veins.

Is that why he was still in the service?

The promise of adrenaline?

It’s an intoxicating high.

Seemed like he was always chasing after something of the sort in that respect.

But why?

Why did he stop?

"Get the fuck up, Johnny." Ghost yells, setting Jitters down on her bed and checking her pulse.

He groaned, lifted his head, and looked at Ghost, a dazed look in his eyes. His hair was disheveled, pushed off to the side. "The hell are you doing here?" He slurred.

"Get up MacTavish. That's an order."

As he stood, Ghost grabbed boxers off the floor and threw them at him.

"The fuck are you doing in my room Simon- can't you see I'm busy?" He yells back, the woman below him sturring.

"You need to sober up, and fast. You're running my patience."

Soap stumbled out of bed, pulling his boxers back onto his legs before he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and reaching out for the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand.

Ghost lunged forward, slapping the bottle sending it clattering to the floor, and spilling all over the carpet.

"What the fuck, Simon?" He asks loudly, slurr appearing in his speech.

"What's going on?" The woman opened her eyes now, looking up at the commotion.

"Get the fuck out." Ghost hissed.

"What?" She stared, mouth agape.

"You heard him." Soap hissed. "Get outta my room."

She made a sound of distress, before rolling out of the bed, finding her outfit, and pulling her shirt on over her head. "I thought you'd be different John. But I guess I was wrong- all you do is make promises and lie." The woman hissed.

"I don't even know ya' fuckin name you slag." He threw back, tossing her shoe at her.

"Fuck you!" She yelled, giving him the finger and storming out the door.

He turned, looking up at Ghost, "God, they are so annoying. Can't get the fucking hint-"

Ghosts hand reached up, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him into the bathroom, throwing his body forward and pushing him into the shower.

Soap fought back, of course, but in his drunken state, he was quickly pushed down into the bathtub where Ghost turned the shower on, on cold to blast down on his face.

"What the fuck!" He yelled.

"You need to sober, up, and real quick Johnny." Ghost hissed.

"For what? We're off!" He wails back, bringing his hands up to fight off the spray of cold water assaulting his face.

"And we'd still be off if you hadn't of gone and brought in another one of your cheap fucks." He dully replies.

Soap was spinning, the shock of water brought him out of a few levels of the pool of drunken confusion he'd been swimming in. The cold water set his senses ablaze, finally fighting Ghost off and turning the water and standing in his boxers.

"What the fuck is going on?" Soap asks.

"You broke your promise." Ghost replies, his voice normally void of emotion cracked with anger.

Betrayal.

The sound of his voice was enough to sober him up immediately.

It was the sound of hurt, and he'd only heard it a few times before.

"What's happening?" He asks again.

"You." Ghost snaps, stepping forward and getting in his face.

Soap pushed back, raising his voice. "Where do you get off blaming random shit on me, eh? Don't stand there all high and fuckin' mighty with that mask on your face. If you're mad and ya' wanna talk, take it off and talk to me like a man!"

Ghost stopped, staring him down. His gaze was colder than ice, but it burned on his skin just the same as a red-hot iron.

He reached his hand up, grabbed the bottom of his mask, and pulled it off his face. Throwing the mask at him and pushing him up against the wall.

"Tell me then." He spat. "Tell me why I had to pull Jitters out of a fuckin' Russian operatives room, bash his skull in and make her puke the spike he gave her out in the toilet, huh? You got an answer to that?" He waits a moment, not letting him respond. "You don't. Cause you were too busy being the selfish bastard you've become since your mother fuckin died. I was fine with it when you could keep your self-depreciation to yourself. But now?" He stops, pushing his hands and his chest and walking away.

"You've put your team at risk Johnny."

"Simon-"

"No. No more empty apologies and promises. Get your shit together, we're leaving."

A Promise.

He remembers.

He can still feel the same bubbling up in his chest at that moment. The fog of alcohol clogged up his senses as he racked his mind, trying as hard as he could to understand what the fuck was happening.

It was like when he saw her, out in that field.

"God damn it." Soap comments, "Hey, look at me. Keep your eyes open."

"I thought I was gonna die." She whispered.

Soap looked at her, eyes tracing over her features. She looked like hell. Blood, dirt, scratches, the works- but the one thing that didn't match the hardened look of a soldier was the look in her eyes.

Fear.

It was the look of inexperience.

"You did what you had to do." He responded, keeping his voice law and calm.

"You know how there's fight or flight?" She asked.

"yea."

"That's the first time I ever fought." She whispered again, words catching in her throat.

Soap knew what that meant.

God, why was he thinking about this now?

Was it some kind of guilt?

He wasn’t guilty, was he? Oh, but he was guilty.

And it made him angry.

He hated feeling guilty.

The last time he’d felt so guilty, well, that was when…

He didn’t want to think about it.

Now wasn’t the time to be thinking, or worrying about these things.

"Ok so-" Jitters turned around moving her hands to scoop something off of the floor.

"What?" Gaz asked.

"I have a cricket in my hands." She cupper her hands together.

"No you don't." Soap replied.

"Yea, look he's going to jump three times see." She nodded her head up.

"One, two, three." She glanced at Soap and grinned, moving one hand to pinch the hair and she held out her hand to him.

"So Soap, you need to take his hat."

Soap reached his hand out, and she placed the hat in his hand. He held his hand out, and she continued.

"And he's gonna jump again." She explained, nodding along as she counted. "One, two, three." She moved her hand again. "And Gaz, you gotta take his jacket too."

"Why's a cricket have a jacket?" Soap asked.

"Shhh." Gaz whispered at him.

Gaz held his hand out and she places his jacket in his hand.

"Ok, and it's gonna do three more." She grinned. "One, two three..."

"So guys, you agree that there is a cricket in my hand?" She asked, dropping her hands and turning around to face them.

"No, there's no cricket-" Soap started.

"Then why are you holdin' his fuckin' clothes?"

How could there be any type of intent? It’s not like she inserted herself into their team, how in God’s name could she- in reality- be a rat? It made no sense. 

It was at that moment things came to a head, two and two clicking together and the feeling of dread settled into his gut.

"You'll stay with Price."

The look of relief washed over her features when Laswell spoke. He should’ve recognized it then, fuck, why was he ever worried about it at all? 

Because he was angry.

And when he is angry he does stupid things.

And when he does stupid things he is to prideful to back down.

So he continues to hold the shovel, and keep digging.

He should apologize, really.

Would she accept it?

 “We’re leaving you with Gaz again tonight, seems like you two can get along.”

She hesitated for a moment as he grabbed the bag he was holding and tugged it over his shoulder, starting to make his way toward the door.

“What do you mean? Where are you going?” She starts, standing up and trying to follow him out of the door.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Remember Johnny. The worst thing you can ever do.” She said, tugging his Dad’s head down by his ear. “Is to make a woman mad.”

“Soap.”

“Soap!” A hand on his shoulder shook him from his thoughts as he sat in the passenger seat of the humvee driving back to the base.

“Sorry Cap, having a proper space.” He replied, glancing over at him.

“I could tell.” He replied.

Ghosts team was staying out, continuing on the watch to see if there were any movements. 

Soap wasn’t going to press when he saw that look in his eyes when he said he’d volunteer to stay out.

He wanted to be alone.

Ghost did that a lot, self-isolate. It took Soap quite a while to understand- and it led to a lot of hurt feelings, confusion, and anger between the two. 

He found out later why, 

Simple really.

He was afraid to get too close.

And when he got too close he’d need a while, to just take a step back and assess everything. Feeling like everything around you is moving too fast is overwhelming- but trying to keep control of the situation by forcing everything to a stop so you can collect your thoughts and convince yourself you have no attachments?

Well, that’s Ghost’s standard operations.

“Friends aren’t in the field manual.”

“It’s confusing, now I know.” Price said, not glancing over at him and keeping his hand on the wheel.

“Thinking I’ve made a proper arse of myself.” Soap replied.

“Little bit.”

“Can you blame me? Really?”

“No, I can’t. It’s hard to think of something like that of someone we trust. But as you know just as well as I do.” He said.

It was as if Price didn’t want to say it.

The possibility of him saying it could potentially will it into being.

He’d showered, enjoying the quiet in a way. Jitters must’ve dragged Gaz out to that old man’s room, at least that’s what Price summed it up to. He was walking back to the sleeping quarters, spying Price laid out on the cot with his arm covering his eyes.

“Catching some beauty sleep, aye?” He asked, setting down and grabbing his bag, searching for his pocket knife. While yea, he wanted to apologize, he was glad she was gone, it gave him more time to think. Also, she’d screech every time one of them would pull out a pocket knife and clean the grime out from under their fingernails. 

Apparently, that got under her skin more than his ‘loud chewing’.

“Have to look pretty for the girls.” Price grumbled.

“You seen my pocket knife?” “You lose another knife, Sargeant?” Amusement danced in his voice.

“Don’t know how the hell-”

“Must’ve walked off like the last one.”

Soap got down onto his knees, peering under the bed and scanning his eyes across the floor.

There it was, 

On the floor.

Across the room?

“Huh. Why’s it over there?” He half thought half asked out loud, standing and making his way over to Jitter’s cot. He knelt down, picked the knife up, and scanned his eyes over the more disheveled than normal assortment of her things.

Something didn’t feel right. 

“You get ahold of Gaz?” Soap asked.

“No.” Price removed his arm, sitting up feeling the worry in his voice. “What’s wrong?” He started making his way over to Soap.

“Call me paranoid. But I don’t think that’s normal.” He glanced down, staring at the pillow.

The cut-open stitches and a small bit of the lackluster stuffing puffed out of one of the corners.

Price picked up the pillow, inspecting the cut and the hole in the case.

She was hiding something? “Go find Gaz. Now.” Price said.

That’s when he broke off into a sprint.

The first room he checked was the small kitchen- then into their little makeshift armory.

“Price!” He yelled, looking at the rifled bags and various pieces of clothing tossed to the ground. He stuck his hand into Gaz’s back reaching for where he kept his gun to find nothing. Price rounded the corner, meeting him. His chest was exhaling roughly, the look on his face unreadable.

“His gun’s missing.” Soap said, dropping the bag.

Price nodded, turning and the two continued to search around the base. Closets, offices, radioing out to hear that Momia was asleep, in his private quarters. No one was in the cardroom.

Where had they gone?

It was when Soap stumbled out into the garage area, calling out Gaz’s name did he hear the sound of someone pounding on the metal walls of the container.

 “Price!” Soap yelled, running up to the contained and swinging the door open. 

Gaz stumbled out, grabbing hold of Soap’s collar ready to send him to the ground when Price caught hold of him and held him up.

“What happened? Why’re you in a stinkin box?”

“She locked me in there.” He heaved out, glancing around frantically. “Looked at me, said ‘Sorry Gaz’, locked me in- don’t know where she went. Didn’t have my radio on me-”

“Fuck!” Soap yelled, kicking over a little metal stand that had various tools set on it. By the time he had turned around Price was already radioing Alejandro, pushing the base into lockdown. 

It felt like the world was turning itself inside out.

Was he right? Was she a rat?

What was happening? Was everything fake?

Twenty minutes later, Alejandro had called them out to a bit a fence towards the outskirt of the base. 

A pair of red-handled bolt cutters leaned up against the cut chain link.

It’s where she escaped.

And they followed the tracks of the bike, through the rain until the found the clearing, guns were drawn as they crept forward seeing the headlights of that little dinky truck piercing through the darkness with its hot halogen lights. Only to find a corpse in the mud, shot twice.

They followed the tracks, losing them on a road that led into the nearby town.

Everyone was on high alert.

They didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

Or really, the next either.

They’d all been sitting on edge, Jitters was missing, Laswell was nowhere to be heard of.

Their air was thick hanging with an air of betrayal, hurt. 

Anger.

It was two days of silence when the next bad news came. Crackling in through the radio, the last thing they were able to hear from Ghost was.

“Loc---- Compromised. Rep--- Locatio---- ----mised. Mass Casua----” The sound of heavy gunfire, static, and then silence.

Along with that, the need for an emergency tech to be sent in to fill the void Jitters had left was brought in. Who he wasn’t expecting to step out of that helicopter that fateful day was Miles, in the flesh. Walking up to him, and slapping him on the shoulder as if they were friends. 

As if he liked him.

Yea, it had not been the best welcoming party to a new ‘member’ of the team, not that they’d ever consider him to be a true member. It was glum, to see him taking her place. As if it solidified the fact that she was gone, that she had betrayed him, and that she had betrayed them.

John Mactavish was angry.

He felt betrayed.

Dare he say, scared? That wasn’t something he would see himself admitting.

A soldier wasn’t supposed to be scared.

A Man wasn’t supposed to be scared.

But he was scared.

Scare of what was coming next.

They say bad things come in threes.

Ghost had gone radio silent before, he knew that. He needed to trust the abilities of his Luitenant. He knew from first hand experience how he could deal with a mission going tits up, this was nothing new to their line of work. It was just a game of waiting until he broke radio silence, saying yea, he was fine, maybe a new hole or two in him, but he’d be back soon.

Soap needed to find Ghost, to make sure he was ok.

And with a blessing from Price, he headed out that night, comm in ear connected to Miles, rifle hanging from his side.

John didn’t know if he wanted him to come back yet.

Out of all of them? Ghost had the closest relationship with Jitters.

They definitely spent the most time together, at first he could’ve even said he was a little jealous.

But, he had a home to go back to. Family to go back to.

They didn’t.

And suppose they bonded over it.

"You can't go in there." Soap reaffirmed.

"Does Price know you're here?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Oh, you're gonna pull the Price card?" He sneers, laughing a little bit. "Firey today aren't ya'."

She sighs. "Sorry."

"Tis fine. Didn't know you had it in ya."

Soap cracked the door open, calling for Ghost.

It took a moment, but he popped out of the door, made eye contact with Jitters, and spoke nearly immediately. "No."

"I didn't even ask-"

"No."

Jitters looked to Soap for some kind of backup, to which is shrugged.

"Sorry. I agree with him on this one."

"So I help capture the dude, and you guys still treat me like a baby?" She asks tone slightly turning to one of anger and annoyance.

"Yea." Soap nods, agreeing.

Ghost doesn't say anything.

"Of course." She mutters, laughing slightly.

Ghost had that look. That look of restraint, the one where he was battling his conscious. Ghost- maybe not Ghost, but maybe Simon didn’t want Jitters to see what he’d done. Soap knew that they’d come across some things, pushed through, and survived.

But this wasn’t for survival.

That was inflicting hurt, just to inflict hurt.

"You're being cocky." Ghost says. His voice was smooth, and even. It was the tone he used when he was getting ready to bite off someone's head.

Soap knew that tone.

She was getting on his nerves.

"No. I'm not being cocky. You, yourself told me to do something about it and this is me doing something about it." She throws her hands up in the air. "You drag me out to bumfuck, act like I'm your Soap surrogate but when we get back you act like none of it happened." She seethes out.

"You were a liability." Ghost says again, the words leaving his mouth drawled out slowly.

"Yea?" Jitters voice cracks a little bit.

"This isn't some fun game you just get to run around with now." Ghost started.

"This isn't a fucking game, and I earned my spot here. I've earned it multiple times and I've proven that-."

"You haven't proved anything. You are not a soldier. You are a fake. We are not your community service project or your parole officers. I don't need your falsified pity, or courage for that matter." He spits.

Jitters visibly falters for a moment.

Soap finds himself trapped captive in an engagement he doesn't think he should be there for.

"You. Are a scared, weak little girl."

Her eyes narrow. "Yea, scared and weak like Beth?" She spits it out.

Soap has never seen Ghost ever react in a way to words. He kept his composure calm, and collected. A scary coldness was his forte.

Ghost's hands snapped out, grabbing Jitters by the cheeks and pushing her up against the wall.

"Choose your next words carefully." Ghost replies.

Someone could call it funny, in a way.

He’d just seen the man inflicting hurt to cause hurt.

She’d done just the same.

It wasn’t physical though, it was with words.

And even if Ghost would act as if it were water off a ducks back, he knew deep down whoever that was cut deep.

Who the hell was Beth? 

How did she know?

And where, where had Jitters gone?

…

Jitters pushed herself up against a dirty stucco wall in an alleyway, hand cautiously rubbing against her bruised ribs.

It hadn’t been a good night, in reality.

Gringo in the city when they no habla isn’t a good combination.

“I want to talk to Laswell.”

“You do that, and they’ll have your location and send a team out to execute you by morning.”

How could she of been so stupid?

But who was she supposed to trust in this situation?

Surely, they would believe the General, the high-ranking official before they trusted her words.

Fuck, she was hyperventilating again.

She was hurt.

She was cold.

She was hungry.

The safe house provided a dank little couch she was horrified to sit on at first, and not much stocked up in the sense of food.

She’d found an old can of what she thought was beans? Without a can opener, she had used Ghost’s knife to pry it open and eat out the contents of expired, cold refried beans on the floor of a safehouse in the dark. Terrified that if she turned the light on, a fleet of Mexican special forces would burst through the door and gun her down.

What else was there truly to do other than to see what exactly was on that drone?

She’d spent a good while securing her connection, making sure there was no way for the General to back door his way into the data she was uploading and reviewing.

Above my clearance, my ass.

The data was more garbled than anything, out of order, and dates mixed together. Everything from order logs to delivery announcements, receipts, and contact lists.

Oh.

Oh….

They say blackmail is a very useful tool of warfare.

She’d agree.

It was the General, sitting in what she assumed to be a backyard.

Children, little toe-headed blondes running around him.

The sour bastard actually looked happy, arms outstretched picking the children up, lifting and spinning them around.

A woman behind him- young, maybe his daughter?

They had photos of his children, and information too. Grandchildren, addresses, names, schools, fuck, even banking information. All teetering it over his head like bait tied to a fishing line.

It made a little bit more sense then.

The secrecy.

It was out of the protection of his family.

But why not tell Laswell?

A photo of his daughter, holding his granddaughter.

A photo of them sitting at a table eating dinner through a window.

A photo of Ghost, skull mask adorned as Lopez was pushed into a transfer vehicle.

A photo of her, out on a jog.

A photo of a landing site, marked out with details she couldn’t make out.

A photo of her, tied to a chair, tape wrapped around her mouth, and blood seeping from her nose.

A photo of an overturned truck, the bodies of two guards stretched out on the sandy dirt.

The terror in her eyes.

A photo, of her, lifeless.

This is what he was trying to stop.

He wanted to stop it before it got to all of them.

But along with it, there was information.

The General had been sending them bits of information- she could tell because a lot of them were low enough level clearance that the data would be considered expendable- maybe not to a cartel.

But then it got to the passport information.

Why would a cartel be bartering with a General to have mass amounts of Russian passports cleared?

She exited out of the folder, clicking onto a screen. Tapping away feverishly, she was met with something she couldn’t fucking believe.

Miles had logged onto her gear. Her computer- his codes were running active from the Vaqueros base.

Miles.

They had already replaced her?

She was expendable, she realized then.

She couldn’t go back, could she?

Why did she have to go out like that? 

Why couldn’t she of just listened to the orders?

She was angry, she was confused, she was conflicted were all reasonings that popped up in her mind at that moment.

“When am I meeting back up with my team?” She asked.

“You aren’t.” He replied. “You’ve abandoned your team, at this point, you’re a traitor and if you go back you will be detained and arrested.”

“You’ll have to wait a while for the situation to be explained to them, so until then- enjoy yourself. Lay low.” He replied.

“I’m not a traitor.”

"Then do something about it."

Ghost’s words rattled around in her head as she pushed herself off of the wall, and headed forwards- in the safehouse there was a drawer filled with assorted amounts of small currencies, coins, bills, some of them not even pesos. She’d gathered the coins and made her way out.

That’s right about the same time she got mugged, or at least sort of mugged.

Someone had snuck up behind her, shoving her to the ground and kicking her in the ribs while she was down. Her eyes flashed open, looking up at the man reaching for her pockets to pull the only money she had off of her. His hands stretched up to grab for her pockets, her hand reaching toward her waistband.

He didn’t seem as interested in the prospect of money when he was greeted with the site of the barrel of Gaz’s handgun pushed up to his forehead.

He’d scrambled, back and ran off.

Which left her here, trudging back on down the street looking for a pay phone.

All she would have to do, is get to a phone, get ahold of Laswell, Price, anyone, and explain everything, it would make it all better.

Wouldn’t it?

It was like being a kid again, after memorizing your mother’s phone number- maybe even writing it down on your forearm before you go out on your own the first time. Your first day at school, so that you aren't standing there dumbfounded when the woman at the desk asks, ‘what’s your mother’s phone number?’

Opening the door to the dingy little shack that housed the payphone, she hesitantly slid coins into the slot, lifting the phone and typing in the number.

The phone rung.

And rung.

“Hello?”

Laswell.

She wanted to cry, and she did, sobbing directly into the phone.

“Jitters?” She asked.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” She replied quietly.

“Jitters where are you?” Laswell questioned.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew that the second she heard her voice she was having the call tracked directly to where she stood. They’d find connections to the safehouse- assuming that she’d dug the information up on her own and they’d dispatch looking for her.

“The General is being blackmailed. Whoever broke Lopez out is affiliated with Russians and he is compromising mission data.”

“Jitters- are you alright? Why don’t you come back?”

“He’s put a shoot-on-sight order on me Laswell-” She choked. “I didn’t give him what he wanted- they think im a traitor- a rat- I can’t go back they’ll kill me.”

There was silence.

“You need to come back.”

There it was, that negotiator's voice.

She thought she was a rat too.

“He sent me to a drone, in a tree. A data drop- it has all of the data, he’s gonna burn me. I’m a loose end-”

“You’re not a loose end, you need to come back so we can sort this out.”

“Why so they can kill me?” She seethed. “I’m not a traitor, Laswell. And I’m sick of being treated like one.”

She slammed the phone back down on the receiver. Then lifted it, bashing it into the machine again and again until her arms hurt.

Until the receiver was bent.

Until the hot angry tears stopped flowing from her face.

She stopped, taking a shudder inhale into her lungs.

They’d betrayed her.

Left her.

Isolated her.

But they were going to die.

They were going to be sent on a suicide mission if she didn’t do something.

They were her family.

“Only the good die young.”

"Give it the juice!" Jitters yelled, they had swapped spots a while ago, and Soap revved the bike, charging forward and letting out a cackle.

Well, he did give it the juice.

And he also gave it the brakes, way to hard.

Throwing the bike up onto its front wheel, and throwing Soap clear off of his seat and onto the pavement.

The road rash bloomed on his skin while the bike flopped over, sputtering.

"Sargeant!" Jitters called out, running up to him.

"The bike- put it upright" He wheezed out.

She turned quickly, struggling to force the bike upwards, pulling out the kickstand and turning it off. Then rushing over to Soap who was rolling to his side and inspecting his raw forearms.

"This is why you wear protective gear." He jokes, wincing at the feeling of blood weep through his skin.

"Sergeant-"

"Soap."

"Huh?"

"Call me Soap, kid. You're making me feel old." He groaned, laying flat on his back.

"Ghost." She asked.

He stopped, and turned to look at her.

"Could you..." She grasped at the sleeve of her shirt. "Could you eat with me?" She asks him, shooting him a near-desperate glance.

He didn't respond at first. Almost mulling it over.

"I... I don't wanna eat alone." She explains.

"Do you ever miss it?" She asks.

He looks at her and nods a bit before flicking the ash off of the end of his cigarette.

"Sometimes." He finally responds.

"Would you ever go back to it?"

"There's nothing left to go back to." He says.

Home.

"I guess that's something we have in common." She mumbles.

"Can you hear me?" He asks, his voice lighter than his usual interactions.

"Yea." Jitters responded.

"Are you hurt?"

"Push the needle through with the pliers- or needle driver. Don't let the medics catch you saying, pliers. Chaps their ass it does."

"My hands are shaking. I don't think I can do this." She sighs, holding her hands out afraid to push the needle through his skin.

"Then tell em' to stop shaking."

"I wish it was that simple."

"Normally is. Just say stop shaking."

"That's not how that works, Price."

"I don't hear you sayin' it."

"That's so dumb."

"You're the one that's shaking, not me."

She groans, slumping her shoulder forward before mumbling. "Stop Shaking."

She waits a moment, staring at her hands.

"It didn't help, Price."

"Of course it did, just keep talking while you do it."

"I don't want to hurt him."

"He's in la la land. And I'm sure you can't do any worse than Soap."

"Bringing a PMC into the team in this proximity makes some of them cautious from past bad experiences."

"But why?"

"Betrayal always hurts more when it's from someone you trust." He replies.

Her eyes look up, a strand of hope dangled in front of her, looking back and forth from Price to Gulch.

"You tell me exactly how you ended up here, and you promise you'll keep my teams back like you did for us last time."

She stared at him in a dumbfounded awe.

"And I'll watch you back." Price concluded.

"What is so funny?" He asks, flabbergasted at the display. His foot- boot, sock, and all stomped into the water, soaking his skin with the cold water.

"You're such a shitty liar." She cackles out.

"What?"

"I'm not your friend," She mocks, trying to mimic his accent and deep voice. "If you didn't like me, you would've left me in the fuckin' water and not rushed to fish me out."

He stares at her, eyes narrowing. Dropping her by her shirt and letting her fall back into the water.

She surfaces, cackling just as hard as the second he ripped her from the water.

"I got my damn boot wet, are you happy?" He growls, looking down at his boot- water soaked up to his calf on his pant leg.

"You're just pissed cause you got caught." She teases, climbing out of the fountain.

"And the maggots that eat my flesh will eat yours too! But they won't eat until I'm good and fucking ready- because I can't even say I'm good anymore!"

"You're the primary suspect."

"Apologies don't count when you make a habit of it." He simply said to her.

"Sorry." She sighed, looking at her shoes. "So, do you always work out. Every day?" She asks.

"When I am not injured or on a mission, yes." He said bluntly, continuing to do pullups on a bar.

"You ever get bored?"

"No."

"I'd get bored."

"Hm."

"It ever get hard to breathe in that thing?" She asked.

"No."

"Am I testing your patience?"

"How'd you know?" He sighed out, dropping from the bar and turning to her. "Are you bored?" He asked.

"Incredibly." Jittered sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing interesting is coming through the comms."

"I am not your babysitter." He said plainly.

"Never said you were." She shot back.

"Bit defensive are we?" He questions, moving across the room to put away a weight he had been using earlier.

She grumbled a little, crossing her arms. "I didn't mean to. I just am starting to dislike being regarded as a baby."

He turned, looking at her. "Then do something about it."

[oita-division]

—{ I don't have dreams, I have goals }— Harvey Specter

=======================================================

Teijo Masakuza (a.k.a. Yama) is an Auto Mechanic and the leader of 地獄Riderz

=======================================================

TECHNICAL INFORMATION

Name: Teijo Masakazu

Kanji: 貞城正和

Romanji: Masakuza

MC Name: Yama

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Occupation: Auto Mechanic

Birthday: February 10

Age: 29

Zodiac: Aquarius

Height: 182cm

Weight: 76 kg

Blood Type: AB

FUN FACTS

Dominant Hand: Right

Likes: his motorcycle, mini car figures, old jigoku riders, cleaning, adult magazines, racing, bathhouses

Hates: Sen’s feral behavior and lack of common sense, taxes, bills, betrayal, rain, heat, milk

Favorite Food: sunomono

Least Favorite Food: bitter gourd

Color: Indigo

=======================================================

PROFILE

He is a heavy smoking mechanic who owns a shabby workshop named Teijo’s CARSCH Shop. During in his youth, he was disreputed a bad name caused by his delinquencies.

He was once part of a big-shot biker gang 地獄Riderz (that they use for the division team) known to be rowdy of driving around the street but honorable in their territory. Well-respected and feared by his peers and was known to be enforcer and demon YAMA in the gang although his life went down as he was been orchestrated, accused for theft and murder, being betrayed by his friends, got arrested, then spent few years in prison.

After his release, he turns over a new leaf by starting to work in a honest job as a mechanic. Unfortunately, his business didn’t go well as many locals knew or heard of about his previous life and few of the costumers ever came to his workshop due to that. Sadly he again suffer a depression of his sister’s death and his missing nephew for many years

=======================================================

APPEARANCE

Teijo is an average muscular man with a light skin color and has a long dark blue hair tied into a ponytail. He has a thick eyebrows, light yellow color eyes, and has bunch of tattoo’s on his front and back of the neck. His dresscode is really simple as he wore his mechanic uniform in his work or outside of work.

He wore a blue coverall with a oni print on his back and inside, is a torn but he slightly buttons up the top shoe while showing a torn sando with small clips sticking to it and wearing brown leather boots with laces. Inside the pocket of his pants, he kept his belongings there but mostly there are spare tools he can use for occasions. He also does wear accessories on his person like he has ear pierced on his right ear and barbwire chain necklace.

He also wore a black fingerless gloves, he says his knuckles from his gloves contains actual metal to look like he wore a brass knuckles and a red oni printed handkerchief to wrapped around his face when he was riding his bike.

=======================================================

PERSONALITY

He comes off as a lone wolf and aloof individual who isn’t interested in anything other than vehicles and fixing with screws, bolts and whatnot. He works alone in his workshop and didn’t hire workers. It’s maybe because he lost his faith and trust on people ever since he was betrayed by his friends from his old gang and distant himself to never made friends with anyone again, except his nephew and Ishihara he can talk to atleast but he does know how to socialize only if it’s work. If it’s outside of work, he is mostly sluggish—more like a tired old geezer of not wanting to do anything, just look for a nice place to tak a nap without thinking of the world surround him.

Teijo is more wise and logical among the group as he experienced of being the vice leader and enforcer in the old biker gang however, there are rare times he gets annoyed when he had to deal with troublesome situations and get it done quickly. If there’s anything to get him lively or pique his interesting is something the involves car/motorcycle race because he loves the thrill feeling of speed. He doesn’t care how his business is low-rated. People would missed out that he is well-versed in machines, especially with cars & motorbikes. He is skilled enough to fix and assemble parts of a vehicle at ease.

He used to be very different in his youth, he was once a typical bad kid who made a lot of mistakes and shunned by others which lead him to prison. As he was released, he became mature, calm and collected person but something utterly struck his spirit down when he found out his sister lost her life and his nephew went missing during that time. He made a promise to his sister once he finds her son, he’ll be the one to look after him although there’s still some of his guilt plagues him for his actions in the past.

Despite his apathetic attitude, he does have some good points of being caring on worrying of other people’s well-being even though if he doesn’t overtly show it to the ones he cared about but will go to great lengths to aid them, specially taking care of Sen. Teijo will do what it takes for his nephew to be happy and fit in with other people. Between him and Sen, he acts like a father. He admits he miss the days when he was at the biker gang that he wished to bring back the gang but into a better one.

=======================================================

RAP ABILITY

Charge (it’s a life risking effect. His ability is waste all his energy to countlessly attack the opponents in every turn. Once he’s in a brink of exhaustion, he needs to absorb a single damage he’s taken in order to manifest a powerful offensive attack)

=======================================================

ETYMOLOGY

—> Teijo means “chastity” (貞) (tei) and “castle” (城) (jo)

—> Masakazu means “correct, right” (正) (masa) and “peace” (和) (kazu)

=======================================================

TRIVIA

His MC name Yama is named after a japanese god of hell “Yama/Enma” from the japanese mythology

He was an acquaintance of the leader of Wild Shīnu, Ryuunosuke Sekiguchi when they fought eachother long time ago

He knows little bit of martial arts thanks to Ryuunosuke’s dad teachings

He enjoys watching car racing, in fact, he secretly went to an underground street race without Sen and Ishihara knowing

He actually knows how to make tattoo’s so he’s that one who puts a tattoo on Sen and Ishihara

What he mostly likes to do is to laze around in the bathhouse without doing anything troublesome

Teijo intentionally make a pun for his shop brand with a German word “arsch” meaning “ass” to put Car + Arsch = Carsch so the people wouldn’t know he’s using a vulgar name in public

=======================================================

[postguiltypleasures]

My Peak TV Journey *What We Do in the Shadows*

I took notes while watching season five of What We Do in the Shadows hoping I’d be able to post something in a timely manner. By most people’s standards I haven’t, but by my own, maybe? I liked this season better than the fourth. I can’t honestly say if it’s because it was better, or I was just in a better place. In someways the seasons were interesting reflections in each other. Partially because of this, I think the series should wrap up next season. 

One of my complaints about last season is that I got bored with the child version of Colin Robinson before the plot wrapped up. I missed adult Colin’s effect in the group and just wasn’t in the mood for a season long “the more things change, the more they stay the same” plot. While Colin was restored to his adult self with all the group dynamics that come with it (and no memory of the past year) there was the possibility of another “more things change, the more they stay the same” plot with Guillermo’s uneasy transition to being a vampire. But this time the act of restoring the status quo by making Guillermo a human again, has the potential to really change everything. Who is Guillermo if he no longer wants to be a vampire? How does he fit in with the group? Or does he reject it entirely. 

Appropriately while Guillermo’s attempt to transition from human to vampire is stagnant, things between him and Nandor become more overtly romantic than in previous seasons. But this is with the added tension because Guillermo going to another vampire to be turned was the biggest betrayal he could do to Nandor. The climax where Nandor finds out after pretty much everyone else, and understands exactly why this transition hasn’t gone well the how to complete it has a sensitivity that is unexpected. And the fact that he can tell Guillermo ultimately doesn’t want to directly take human life, is tender. 

The season saw more of Guillermo’s family than previous seasons, which made the reversion to his human state make more sense emotionally.  In his semi human/semi vampire state he sought help from Laszlo who proceeded to perform freaky experiments on him. They did not shed light on his condition, but they included some very freaky animal hybrids, (who I hope we see more of next season) and an opportunity for Laszlo to use Guillermo’s sweat as a vampire sun screen. Unrelated to Laszlo’s experiments, there was a scene where a shocked Guillermo trips booby traps that Colin Robinson set up through the house while Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” plays in the background. It was ridiculous. It made me happy. 

Speaking of Laszlo, is it just me or was his screen time reduced this season? If so why? Was it to give Matt Berry a break for personal reasons? Was it a concerted decision to prevent the series form becoming The Laszlo Cravensworth Show? At the very, least he does not currently appear to be driving plot. In the previous two seasons he was aiding Colin Robinson in his respective end of life and beginning of life phases. Here he was helping Guillermo with his stalled transition. It could be a sign of Lazslo’s character being the friendliest of the bunch, but I doubt it.  None of these characters are exactly humane. 

Following up Laszlo’s lack of driving plot, it’s worth noting how little he had to do with his lady wife Nadja this season. The plot in which they interacted the most involved him struggling to make a good impression on her new human friends from Little Antipaxos, where she enjoyed getting to know contemporary people from her homeland. He eventually, inadvertently convinces them that he is the the incarnation of a legendary, piggish figure. But their general lack of conflict and interaction also made a kind of sense for Nadja’s plot. In previous seasons she regularly railed against a cursed hat Laszlo had and refused to get rid of. Last season wrapped up the cursed hat story, and so this season had Nadja thinking she was hexed in her pre-vampire life. While curses definitely exist in the WWDITS world, the show starts the storyline explicitly saying that the events that led her to think she was cursed were really the result of how much inebriated blood she drank while running a club last season. The attempts to reverse the curse led her to Little Antipaxos,  teaching about citizenship in a community college, and getting scammed by a “magic woman” who really wanted her preferred Dunkin’ Donuts to serve her again. I enjoyed all of this. 

I am glad that Colin Robinson is an adult again. I loved his short reunion with his energy vampire girlfriend Evie while running for political office. I also enjoyed seeing him as a waiter and how upset he got when the too interesting. 

Finally, Kristen Schall’s Guide was bumped up to a regular character this season. I think she had a similar amount of screen time this season as last, but she did drive more plot. Notably, she gave Nadja the “clues” to “prove” that she was really cursed. This turned out to be a punishment for the ways in which Nadja ignored her as a potential female friend. As much as I like Nadja, I am one hundred percent Team The Guide in this conflict. The dynamics of the characters can be described as cliques within cliques. Nadja and Laszlo’s marriage is a clique. Laszlow’s, Nadja and Nandor are a clique as the classical vampires who have been living together. Guillermo is in a clique with the classical vampires against Colon as he can feed off of all of them and they hate him for that, etc. having the Guide, who’s always known they were detached from the world, but now recognizes them as her only option for long term companionship, is exactly the kind of situation for which this show exists.

[flythesail]

I think the finale felt like a natural ending to everything set up throughout the season except for where we started.

And by that I mean Kerri.

The catalyst of it all is Cassian's search for his sister or else he'd never have a run in with those cops.

The last mention we got of Kerri was in episode 7. As Cassian is on his way out, Maarva tells him:

And just one more thing... Just... Stop searching for your sister. It's a fantasy. There were no survivors on Kenari. What happened there was not your responsibility. You were a child. Let it go.

Which 1) no ❤️ and 2) Maarva you literally separated them.

But to dissect what this would imply, Maarva is saying there were no survivors.

Yet we know from episode 1, there was a girl from Kenari at the brothel at one point. From the lady who works there: There was a girl from Kenari, but she left several months ago.

Granted, she could be lying. But I'm unsure why she would since the girl is long gone anyway.

So what could the takeaway be? That there are survivors from Kenari. After all, what proof does Maarva have? Does she just assume because they saw the incoming Republic ship?

I feel like we have to be missing some piece of information. If Cassian has been searching for Kerri for a long time, I'd even go as far to think he might have returned to Kenari. Like if you're going to search for your sister, it would be logical to start with the last place you saw her. Kenari doesn't seem to be widely known, so where else could you get info about it?

On the topic of Maarva taking Cassian from Kenari though, it's complex. Yes, she might have saved his life. That's certainly what she believes.

But that doesn't erase the fact that she sedated him to do so, separating him from family and the only home he'd ever known.

With this, I also wonder how much Maarva knew about the mining disaster that presumably killed all the adults. (Which, I still question because wouldn't some adults stay back to watch the kids? There has to be more going on there). But anyway, Maarva taking Cassian only feels more icky when you acknowledge she might not have even known the only survivors on Kenari were kids. Like, for all she might have known, his parents could have been nearby.

Regardless of anything said outside of the show, however, I don't think the show itself has a strong stance on whether Maarva "saved" Cassian.

Maarva is made out to be an inspirational figure, primarily by being a vocal supporter of the rebellion.

But she's never at any point honored by others for saving Cassian. That's a good thing.

It's complex and the almost indirect way it's addressed leaves it at that.

I'm trying to make a point here lol, so I'll say Cassian is conflicted too. He loves Maarva for who she was as his mother and respects her for the rebel she was. Yet feelings of discontent over his separation from Kerri are there.

After Maarva tells him to stop looking, he says nothing. He ignores that and more or less leaves.

I think a lot of it comes down to Maarva's age and also time. Maarva is old and he cares about her, so he sees this as a fight not worth having. Likely because it's been had before and it never goes anywhere.

Maarva will tell him to give it up. Cassian will not.

Now I really would have liked Cassian to get a chance to point out Maarva separated them. But maybe the point is that a lack of chance aligns with this storyline as a whole.

Season 1 begins with the search for Kerri, and the finale does not even so much as mention it.

Okay, maybe it's just poor writing. Kerri was the catalyst and they never went into it more than that.

But the writing of the rest of the show is intentional enough that I'd like to say "unsaid" could be the intention.

Maarva separated Cassian from Kerri. That's a fact and one that goes unsaid.

Cassian and Kerri were separated a decade+ ago. Truly, what is the likelihood of a reunion? Even if Kerri did survive, she could be anywhere under any name. And odds are even if he can find somewhere she's been or someone who knows her, they won't even know she's from Kenari or had a brother.

So what happened to Kerri? That too will remain unsaid.

It's a somber ending and not even an ending. After everything, Kerri watching Kassa go is the last we see her.

That's the last Cassian will see of her too. She'll forever be the little girl he left, certain he would return to her only to never.

It's an unfinished story because that's what it is. Unsatisfying because that's what it is.

[meatballerino]

ok here's my headcannons for the disco elysium swap!AU post game life that i may or may not be playing out on the sims atm

we all agree that kim is so disillusioned that he quits the RCM in some badass yet dignified way and goes into his full rebellious phase: tats, piercings, sluttier outfits, machoism and vulgarity, also a bit more loudly gay, very "queers bash back" vibes

harry is also disillusioned by everything and quits the RCM to prioritize recovery, and something about this level of commitment shows kim and jean that this is it, this is gonna be the attempt that sticks

jean can now finally build his own legacy with the RCM without being trapped in harry's shadow, and he likes the feeling of empowerment, but he also sees seedier underbellies of corruption within the RCM that even he can't stomach, or maybe he just can't tolerate ugliness like that these days. he thinks about eventually quitting too, maybe in a few years, but they need the money right now because:

Cunoesse Redemption Arc: they're literally driving back after illegally adopting cuno, and the kid gets cold feet about leaving cunoesse behind so he screams until they pull over on the side of the highway. turns out cunoesse is hiding out in a squat, they send cuno in to go talk to her. she actually swallows her pride and accepts her one ticket out of poverty and the guys respect that, so everyone starts off on a blank slate

jean is like, well, let's be realistic, we can all live in my apartment while C + C + harry go through the initial stages of withdrawals and we'll support each other for a tough few weeks. harry and kim will give up their leases and they'll pool their money together and figure out how to buy a crappy little house while the kids catch up on school

no one even has their shoes off yet when punk!kim stops them all and says, look, there's going to be homosexual activity in this house and if the kids even think of making a homophobic joke they'll be kicked to the curb, and everyone just mind their got damn business about it (i.e don't let it leave the house). the kids are lowkey scared of angry kim so they just nod

and thus kim and harry are at liberty to figure out their feelings for each other, and the fusion of their love lowkey saves harry's life and helps him get better

jean has a spare room that's more of a closet, and it just stores some boxes and a sad little weight lifting set that's covered in dust. he sells it for quick cash, then he and kim build a set of bunk beds while harry and the kids are taking turns vomiting their guts out in the bathroom

jean and kim make a surprisingly good team - they find creative solutions to the lack of space. they take turns playing nurse during the cold-turkey-ultra-detox

jean and kim come to a shared, silent, conclusion that, for the first time, they are not Doing All Of This because they need the control or want to retain professionalism, in fact it doesn't feel like labour at all because it's genuinely coming from a place of love

the guys sleep on cots in jean's bedroom until they're like ooohhh noooo what a waste of space why don't we all just share one big bed oohhhhhh

over the next few weeks jean digs through the storage room at the precint and finds a small desk for the kid's room to promote maybe doing their homework for once. he lets them decorate the walls however they want, and everyone agrees that it's a sacred no-adults zone

cuno and cunoesse still have some mysterious beef between them, and in their misery of coming off the drugs, they're constantly fighting with each other (in a cryptic way that still provides 0 context for the adults to eavesdrop on)

harry is quiet lately, contemplative; he has to come to terms with things he's been avoiding his whole life. his body is a fucking wreck, and isn't used to sitting still for so long, and everything catches up with him all at once. he doesn't tell anyone for awhile but his memory is more fucked than he thought, and he finds time slipping away from him. he's sick in bed most of the time so he re-reads all the books he owns, and also randomly takes up knitting so his hands can stay busy and his mind can wander. everyone knows it's been a rough night if harry emerges from the shadows, crusty and stinking, and drops a dozen pairs of knit socks on the table

since kim knows the game from a cop's perspective, he gets his kicks doing stupid petty crimes, and also earns the household some cash on the side to keep them going. it helps him get through the intensity of his life and he lives out all his bad boy fantasies

the kids get better enough that they can go back to school, i imagine they transferred and are appreciating a) getting out of the house b) something to do c) cuno actually likes meeting new people and he's a novelty being the new student. cunoesse has a harder time adjusting and gets crazy jealous

with jean at work and the kids at school during the day, kim and harry FUCK

one day the angst sex is so good that harry stands up after, wipes himself off, and is like "yeah, okay, i'll go to rehab"

okay it's more of a support group personalized therapy package deal thing in the next city over, but harry really benefits from healing around other people who are going through something similar. his progress is immediate, he is a new person overnight. he is going forward, not trying to chase someone he once was. he lets himself slow down a little bit, lets himself be eccentric, lets himself age gracefully.

jean can't avoid telling pryce about the new situation ("you mean to tell me....three adult male colleagues? and two random teenagers they met during an investigation? do you know how bad that looks?" "i know, i know, but it's more of an at-home rehab-orphanage scenario") but pryce is actually strangely very kind about it (yes jean is more self assured now but also he dangles some blame in front of his eyes - pryce pushed harry too far and fucked over not just harry but jean and kim's personal lives).

pryce runs into harry soon after and almost doesn't recognize him. he's so clearly improving that pryce calls jean into his office first thing the next morning. if harry completes the whole rehab program and doesn't drastically relapse, he'll massage the budget so that jean can get a fat bonus, enough to cover the shittiest, cheapest house on the market, a way of saying thank you and i'm sorry to all three of them

cuno is smart, obviously, and snuck the last of his dad's drugs with him before he left. he finds it too difficult to get off speed and secretly indulges when kim leaves in the evening, but at least now cuno can do his homework and shower every night. he also shares with cunoesse and they learn how to trust each other again

kim has to do more parenting than he bargained for until harry gets well enough to take over. he'll be stern when boundaries need to be placed but otherwise he doesn't waste his time nagging or scolding, just the eyebrow is enough. he makes the kids help around the house while also learning how to do the basics: how to cook, how to clean, how to do laundry, how to change a tire, first aid, etc

c + c blossom with a safe home environment and some structure in their lives. at first they'd sleep for thirteen hours at a time, unfamiliar with the feeling of safety and utter relaxation. they shower too often and use up all the hot water, obsessed with this new luxury. they eat like wolves, used to the panic of not knowing where their next meal would come from.

[tai-vas]

It was, and still is, my favourite animation. And one of my favourite movies in general. I can say I grew up on it more than I can say I grew up on other animations because while, yes, I did watch an awful lot of Tabaluga, Benjamin Blümchen, Smurfs and Adventures of the Gummi Bears too, and I adored it too, they didn't have the same impact on me that Spirit did.

OP got a bit political here, but I was a kid who didn't really have any ties to imperialism/colonialism (we were neither colonisers, nor colonised, just the rich exploiting the poor), so the anti-imperialism message didn't get to me that much but what almost-adult me, who knew a little more about it, appreciated very much, was the lack of moralistic tone about it. And mutual respect on all sides of the fence. They literally say "whether that West was won or not in the end you must decide for yourself" and this, this means something. And it's a film for kids who says you must think for yourselves and that in itself means a lot.

But what got to me (and what I partially blame for the contradictory urges defining my life) is the reflection on freedom, individuality and responsibility. It taught me to value freedom more than all the patriotic history lessons combined ever could (and believe me, try they did, my country was under occupation for a long while, and is very proud of its history of fighting against it), but it also taught me that there is no such a thing as a complete freedom with no ties whatsover, that with more independence always comes more responsiblity, and you have to be prepared to shoulder it (maybe that's why I never wanted to be a princess, Spirit taught me long before that that being in charge means a lot of responsibility and possible danger), and to fight for what's important to me. And that with growing up comes a lot more freedom, but also more responsibility. It still gets to me, even though the concept of home is far more convoluted for me than for Spirit, and than complicates things. Also, fun fact, in my language the title is "Mustang from <location>". There is no name, or nickname, or anything. Just the name of the race. And the horse is referred to as Mustang. Which, paradoxically, emphasises his individuality and independence, because he refuses to be domesticated, tamed by a name. He can be a friend, he will not be a pet.

I wrote a very long post under you, OP, but you're going to make me watch Spirit again instead of sleeping, so I figure that fair's fair.

cannot believe there are people who aren't familiar with the 2002 movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. it's not remembered as one of the animated classics of the early 00s because it's so different than other beloved movies - no talking animals, no fantasy settings, limited comedic elements - but my god did it shine in so many other ways. arguably some of the best 2D animation ever created, outstanding soundtrack, an hour and a half of pure anti-imperialism and anti-colonialism in a kid friendly story about horseys.

[oni-verse]

just here to blab cause i havent been having much fun drawing lately, and ive been sick a lot which is abnormal for me, and i got them chronic headaches,

but at least i can project thoughts on silly gay characters and pretend like theyre the main characters in the shows and movies i watch

reviewing past ideas this week since its nice when i dont have anything else i want to do. its nice to go back and see their beginnings again which is mostly just gil being unreadable and emotionally distant and cas being so desperate to keep gil in his life that he ignores all those red flags & pines painfully.

but i write pretty much everything down, so i have all those random thoughts like Domestic Moment #4306 and What If They Were Strangers, or the alternative, What If They Got Together Much Earlier. yknow how it goes. being my own fanfiction writer.

i like writing gil as being inexplicably alluring and its usually just because of small things like how he talks or his body language, on top of the fact he's tall and hot in a grungy way. and cas, even though he's gil's oldest friend, has such a hard time reading him because of gil's unique brand of being guarded (never being vulnerable or transparent). it all adds to the mystery and people (/cas) wanting to get in close for a chance to figure him out.

even in high school, cas wouldnt always be aware of what was happening in his best friend's life. gil's guardedness manifested in his teenage years as keeping the secret of his father's abuse, whether he was just scared of the consequences of others knowing, or he's embarrassed for his own circumstances, but cas' ability to look closely and be a friend without making gil feel bad about himself is part of why they were best friends. that, and cas being (at the time) a good cishet ally boy that respects his friends ;0

while this isnt what happens in their lil story, i do also like to consider what itd be like if cas was brave enough to recognize/act on the feelings he wouldnt admit he had for his friend, back when they were teenagers. cas thought he was straight for many years after high school, but i could also see a reality where ~ally~ cas becomes "experimenting doesnt inherently mean anything". hehe. would make their separation all the more heartbreaking for lil cas.

then, in a universe where they don't meet until theyre adults with separate lives, how that could look. like because of everything above, maybe it'd be expected that gil wouldn't give a person like cas a real chance, that he'd be especially difficult because the lack of history makes it that much harder to break down his walls. but then, what about exhausted gil, alone for the same reasons as usual, choosing it & all his connections with other people usually not extending beyond a single night. this guy, meeting someone who responds to gil's flirtation without going the obvious route and taking gil home for the same reason as everyone else-- but instead, just talks to him, and is oddly the nicest and easiest person to be around. gil's experiences creating expectations thatre shattered by a lil punky guy who doesn't make gil feel alone or like he's around for only one thing.

commitment-phobe gil meeting cas in his mid 20s and somehow agreeing to a date because his curiosity is honestly piqued by this surprise encounter. it seems like it shouldnt be shocking to have a decent conversation with a decent person, but a messy person can somehow manage to completely avoid any positive people. especially if they surround themselves with stoners, dealers, and club rats.

ive said it before but ig they really do have a "i can fix him" dynamic but it actually sorta works? gil isnt as messy, eventually lol. kinda the point.

but i love a circumstance of a guy being all "i don't do relationships, i don't believe in love, bachelor lyfe 4eva, ima fuck this whole city" and then going completely mushy because someone is patient and committed to him. gotchu now bitch... u DO relationship.. u DO believe in love, you are settling down and fucking one man only. i would say sorry but youre happy now bitch ✋caught in 4k

[bellveela]

When it came to Harry himself, he never really thought he would go through all of this – wishes, changes, darkness. But fate had other plans when he laid eyes on the most enchanting woman he had ever seen in person at the grocery store – Fleur Weasley.

Fleur was tall, incredibly athletic, and slightly older than Harry, approaching her thirties. Her face had a deliberately polished look, much like women working in aesthetic-related fields. Her silhouette resembled that of a dancer, slender, narrow, and graceful, but Harry knew she was a professional cheerleader in a Quidditch team. Her hair cascaded in long, shimmering platinum waves, and her posture was impeccable, the result of years of slow, painstaking training to sculpt her muscles to perfection for public display. Her waist was the smallest Harry had ever seen on a woman in real life, maybe even in pictures. She was dressed in tight black yoga pants adorned with shiny silver stripes, a tied white shirt emphasizing her incredible abs and beautiful bust, and a short leather jacket that spectacularly accentuated her curves. In high, delicate heels, she literally stood head and shoulders above other women in the store, and her beauty and wealth made her a metaphorical giant.

Harry had just arrived at the store after meeting a strange, masked stranger. Thoughts of an empty fridge at home prompted him to fill his stomach before making any serious decisions about altering reality with the Death Stone. Did Harry contemplate Fleur Weasley as he headed back home? After all, the stranger had promised him that all his wishes, no matter how likely or unlikely, were his to enjoy.

Yes, Harry did indeed think about the woman who had been the object of his obsession and infatuation throughout his adult life. He had meticulously organized a catalog of thousands of her photos and could sketch her strikingly beautiful face from memory, although he would never capture her true magnificence.

But in reality, being with her because of wishes somehow felt cheap, his adult brain told him. When fantasy becomes reality, it often turns into a nightmare. How many women fantasize about being with horrible, toxic, domineering men? They would rather have a heart attack than fulfill those fantasies – that's why they remain fantasies.

Harry began to consider that perhaps it would be better if he wished for a reasonable stock portfolio or a well-paying career built on mastery of skills, that sort of thing. Of course, this very adult, rational decision-making process fell apart at the sight of the first beautiful woman he saw, the object of years of obsessive desire.

Can he be blamed for it? How often can one encounter a truly beautiful woman? Not just an attractive woman – no offense to them, there are plenty of those. But this woman – she wasn't just attractive; she was beautiful. There's a difference; that's why sculptors spend years trying to capture aesthetic perfection and end up with something abstract rather than exact. True beauty is ethereal, fleeting. It's difficult, if not impossible, to quantify. But you can see it in the way a truly wonderful woman turns her head, adjusts her blouse, or reaches for a box of pasta...

Harry realized he was staring at Fleur, just as he had been doing for years in her photos. She put down the box of pasta and grabbed another. After a moment, she noticed him gazing, and her reaction was nonchalant; she was used to it, he was sure.

Perhaps it was precisely this lack of a reaction that filled Harry with the greatest desire to act. She wasn't repulsed, frightened, or intrigued. He was nothing to her, less than a threat, even a curiosity. She didn't respect the desire that dwelled within him, the longing that had filled him for years at the sight of her incredible figure. "I wish she would flirt with me," Harry said softly, clutching the small, black stone tightly in his hand. It was the size and shape of four quarters stacked on top of each other, smooth and strangely cold – until suddenly it wasn't. It became hot in his hand, almost scalding, like a shower that was pleasantly almost too warm.

But nothing happened. She continued on, her magnificent form swaying from side to side.

Every wish has its price, and you have to specify it. That's what the stranger had told Harry. Your soul, your life, or the soul or life of others. It worked in pieces, she explained. The bigger the wish, the bigger the piece.

And, well, here was the peculiar part.

With the stone in hand, Harry Potter could somehow sense the size of the piece it would take. It wasn't large – a fraction of a fraction of a fraction. Arousing a woman enough to make her flirt didn't seem like too great a challenge for a stone that could change reality.

Harry had no intention of sacrificing any part of his soul, and certainly didn't want to take others' lives. So, only one choice remained. And it seemed to be just a few weeks.

"My life," Harry said. "I'll pay the price..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. He felt something leave him, a distant emptiness that vanished into the shadows on the wings of the breeze, something only he could feel.

It was a mistake, Harry immediately realized. It was foolish, inappropriate. What was he thinking? Just so a pretty woman would notice him.

Then Fleur stopped, turned, and smiled at him.

It was the sexiest smile he had ever seen. Aware, inviting, and filled with desire. Totally worth it.

They introduced themselves and engaged in a short conversation. Harry was wrong all along. From a distance, she wasn't beautiful; she was flawless. Up close, she was even hotter than he had imagined after years of staring at her high-resolution photos. And now she was smiling at him, touching his hand and arm, playing with her hair.

"It's so funny that we bumped into each other right here," she laughed, and her voice was lightly dusted with the beauty of her French homeland. "I can't believe we're almost neighbors!"

It was highly likely that people living nearby would shop at the same grocery store, but Harry didn't want to spoil her mood. Perhaps – just perhaps – he had decided to live in the area, hoping for a chance encounter where he would see her in person.

Maybe.

It might sound like he was some sort of crazy stalker, and maybe he was. But before gaining the ability to wish his way around the planet, he didn't plan to escalate matters beyond living near her (which sounded wrong when put that way).

A conversation with her would almost certainly shatter this fantasy. She was the wife of a Quidditch star (even if he was an adulterous jerk), and Harry was a pudgy rune researcher.

Why would he ever want to see such disdain on her face if he tried to talk to her? He had witnessed how she could mock other cheerleaders on her team or men at loud parties whom she found uninteresting. He would do anything to avoid her looking at him that way. It would be heart-wrenching, undoing years of study, attention, and affection.

Besides, they weren't neighbors. She lived in the most exclusive part of the magical neighborhood. Harry lived one street over, in a run-down apartment complex surrounded by people who lived in fear that the wealthy residents would decide they didn't want inexpensive housing nearby, leading to evictions and the demolition of the complex. It had happened before – poverty didn't pay off in this city.

Her wealth was evident – a diamond bracelet on her elegant, slender wrists, pearl earrings and rings adorning most of her fingers. She wore designer yoga leggings from some ultra-luxury boutique in New York, and her leather jacket seemed to cost more than six months' worth of Harry's income as a reasonably employed curse breaker.

"What do you do?" Harry asked, trying to sound suave. It seemed like a cool and appropriate thing to ask an attractive woman, right? What they do for a living? Harry wanted to know.

"Oh, I'm a cheerleader," she smiled, once again grabbing Harry Potter's biceps before giggling. "Well, a coach for athletes? I'm a coach for the Queens. Have you heard of them?" Harry struggled to hold back his laughter and settled for a barely controlled chuckle.

Damn, did Harry know the Queens? He had followed Fleur's entire career since she turned eighteen.

Hell, he probably would have known about them even if he weren't pathetically fixated on Fleur. The only thing the stupid magical society invested in was their Quidditch team, and they poured all their money into it, as evidenced by Fleur's outfit.

They named their cheerleader team the Queens, probably because someone thought it was super clever. Each of the Queens was insanely hot, and every few months, one of them would get into trouble for causing too many fights at the local nightclub. The latest troublemaker was their newest recruit, Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle.

"Oh, wow," Harry said, unable to tear his gaze away from her undulating, perfect breasts encased in a tight bra. He tried to think of what a cool character in a movie might say. "I thought you had to be... you know, older to be a coach."

She smiled and playfully nudged his arm. "Flatterer." It was awkward, obvious flattery, but also quite sincere. If Harry didn't know better, he wouldn't guess that Fleur could be a maximum of twenty-nine years old. Maybe even twenty-five. Her skin was radiant, flawless, seemingly devoid of pores. Harry felt embarrassingly hard, his erection pressing against his jeans, attempting to join the conversation.

"Listen," Harry said, taking a risk. It was the bravest thing he had ever done, and he commuted to work every day in a forty-year-old car on a four-lane highway.

"You know, I'm the most attractive guy you've ever seen, right?"

She shivered slightly, and Harry stood at full attention. He couldn't believe he had made such a perfect creature moan in that way.

Her voice lost its flirtatious facade and became very low. Her eyes were lowered. "...yes. Yes."

"What do you want to do about it?"

She bit her lip, those plump, soft lips that Harry wanted to sink into. "So many things, Harry. But..."

"But what?" Harry asked, leaning in, wanting to hear her thoughts.

She lifted her left hand, showing several rings adorning her fingers. Her fingers were long, soft, and hypnotically delicate. One of them was her wedding ring, but Harry honestly couldn't tell. All of them were ice. He knew her husband was obscenely wealthy thanks to his Quidditch contract.

Harry hoped, perhaps foolishly, that his attractiveness would sway her loyalty to her marriage. Honestly, it was admirable that it hadn't happened yet, especially considering her cheating husband. Her unwavering principles in the face of magical debauchery made him desire her even more.

He longed for her principled lips wrapped around his cock, her unwavering loyalty to someone new. "Right," Harry said. 

"Of course."

"But," she continued, catching her breath, "it means... I don't know how to put it." Her hands slid over his, intensifying the desire that engulfed him. She drew his hand to her body. "I really wouldn't want to worry about that right now."

"I wouldn't either," Harry said, and his words slipped out without much thought. Damn.

And there it was again in his mind – the sense of different prices, the amount each would take. It wasn't entirely visual; it was hard to explain. You know how when you pick up a can of soda once, you know how heavy it will be in your hand every time? It was like that.

"My life," Harry thought. "I'll pay..."

Continue reading this chapter

[wearequeer-andwearehere]

hey!! this might be really long and if so i'm sorry for that, just trying to figure some stuff out.

okay basically, i'm a cis female and idk what my sexuality is. i've never been in a relationship, never had strong feelings for anyone, i've kissed three boys all in club settings, and i am so confused.

i think women are pretty?? and i love looking at them in a respectful, 'you're so gorgeous way', and men are good looking in a very different way to me but i still think i'm attracted to them

i'd like to kiss a girl but i can't ever see myself being in a relationship with one. and i don't know if that is some sort of internalised homophobia that i need to address or if it's just lack of experience, bc i don't think i can see myself with a guy. or maybe a can because it's what i see all around me???

and then the idea of being approached by a women in a sexual/romantic way scares me. is that just lack of experience??

and then i've had multiple people say to me 'are you sure you aren't gay?' and other things along those lines in a non-serious way, and if i am queer, i feel like i'm proving them right, and how did i not see or realise this sooner?? like i should've known right?? if everyone else did??

and a lot of my friends are queer and i feel really safe and accepted with them, so i don't know if i just want to be apart of that and am simply creating issues that aren't even there to begin with??

but then i've dreamt about being with women and straight women don't have them?? right?

then i tell myself i don't have to know right now, but it seems like everyone else but me knows. i'm 20 yrs old and i have NO idea about anything, and maybe that's okay? plus sexuality is fluid? and always changing so maybe i'll never know?

this was very messy and i'm sorry for that, but if you have any advice or thoughts, i'd be so grateful, i'm so overwhelmed right now. - a <3

Hi hi hi A!! Don’t worry about it long rambly asks are totally fine I’m here for u homie

Wow bro ur getting some action 😭 😭 can we switch places lmao

Oh wow you’re 20?? Okay disclaimer, I am a teenager haha so take everything I say with a pinch of salt bc I explored this whole sexuality thing when I was like 13, so we’ve had v different experiences but I’ll try my best to help u out bro I gotchu

What do you mean by “in a different way?” That can mean two things. Do you find women pretty objectively and men like ATTRACTIVE, or are you attracted to both men and women in different ways?

The whole being scared thing is, as my generation would say, a Big Mood. It could be either internalised homophobia or lack of experience or maybe you just don’t like women at all.

In terms of dreaming about being with women, that could mean anything or nothing. Dreams are just your subconscious putting everything in a blender and pouring the smoothie of hell into your sleep brain. It could mean you want to be with women or it could mean that shit in ur skull is just fucking around.

Honey you do NOT have to know right know. You’re twenty. That’s like. You’ve lived like 25% of your life, approximately. That’s jack shit. That’s not even the pass mark on most tests. You have got SO MUCH of your life left to live, you’ve got like decades and shit man, you don’t gotta have everything down right now. Talk to like ur parents or older friends and see *how much* life you have ahead of you.

It’s possible that this may also be contributing to that whole young adult early 20s “oh my god everyone else knows everything and i’m floundering” but honey trust me EVERYONE is floundering. Everyone is fucked. People seem put together but trust me dude we are all goddamn messes. You’re not alone. So many people are trying to figure themselves out, just like you.

Imma be fr thinking about this shit? Overrated. You’ll just think urself into another spiral and it’ll be the mental equivalent of doing like 19 buzzfeed quizzes titled “Am I Gay?” at 3:41am and wondering where ur life is going.

Just. Stop thinking. I know it’s hard trust me I have shitass anxiety and it’s so so hard to stop thinking but stop. Tell ur brain to stfu

And then just think of one thing. what makes you HAPPY?

Because that’s all that matters in the long run, doesn’t it?

Kiss a girl and see if it makes you happy. Kiss a guy and ask yourself the same thing.

If I were you, what I would personally do is just uhhh fuck around and find out? Go to a bunch of clubs and just be really slutty til things eventually make sense lmaoo

But once again that’s not for everyone so maybe just try and think about it. Does the idea of being with a girl make you happy? With a guy? Being single?

Also one idea might be for you to explore the aromantic label—you said you’ve never had strong feelings for anyone and it sounds like you might be aro. Look under my #aro questioning tag and check out these posts:

Remember, A, there’s no time limits on these things. There’s no deadlines. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, so take it slow and just be HAPPY and be true to yourself. Bend society to fit you—don’t bend yourself to fit labels, yknow what Im saying? Labels aren’t all that important at the end of the day. Just. Just *be.*

I hope I could help you out A!! Sending so so much love <3333 If you ever wanna talk again feel free to drop me an ask!! Have an awesome day <33

[karanseraph]

I have written a bit about this before with the difference between Hot Rod and Optimus, how if one saw G1 The Transformers when young (whether original airings or later generations on recorded or streamed media) it can be easy to perceive Optimus ad a father figure. But he's not absent in the morning or afternoon when you see the show. He's there and supportive to his Autobots and still likes to play.

Well, Megatron can also be perceived as a father figure, but he's like the scary, critical, illogical dad that is only supportive when you're able to agree with him.

And Starscream is most often the one that visibly is the the target. So if you were a young person, but not like the boy/baby (Bumblebee) and you're dad was absent part of the day but then came home all critical and tired and just can't appreciate you as ever doing anything better than he the adult man then your Dad was represented by Megatron. Optimus became the dad you thought you wished you had. And you probably felt represented by Starscream.

(The Hot Rod situation is a little different and I did write about it before, but it has that teen coming of age aspect along with the pressure of living up to the best qualities of the dad)

And maybe that's not everyone's experience, but it was mine. I sympathize with Starscream a lot, even though he does objectively bad and manipulative things. But there's still often the concept that he isn't granted agency or respect even when he isn't outwardly and actively doing evil. He has to fight to be noticed or appreciated.

Like, that whole thing in Armada or Micron legend was also like Starscream not being respected (but with warrior themes of surpassing through combat).

And I guess the message is just respect your kids and their ideas even if you don't agree. Let people express themselves so they don't have to act out in less healthy ways.

And maybe, sadly, we need Starscream to not be fully respected and redeemed so that the kids who are having a rough time being lived and respected at least have someone to relate to.

Though it could be better to just establish that starscream wasn't respected at first and then allow some other character(s) to grant him that respect that Megatron won't.

And maybe we think about the past regimes that made Megatron how he is.

Because, my own dad wasn't intentionally bad. He just didn't have energy/spoons left a lot of the time because he was probably a neurodivergent person (undiagnosed) who grew up in the 1950s when basically any type of divergence could wreck one's life. So he developed some unhealthy coping and defense mechanisms out of need and lack of better support that ended up making him incapable of admitting any weakness or wrongness or that differences are good and beautiful parts of being human.

And then he got blessed with a smart, inquisitive daughter who doesn't have great social skills.

So, me fixating on Starscream has never been a mystery.

Probably there are other people who have similar (not identical) experiences. Megatron doesn't have to be the father figure. Maybe it was a boss or a mother or a boyfriend or a teacher or a peergroup bully for some people.

transformers fans will get into the series and immediately form an emotional bond with Starscream for no reason.