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jo-harrington · 16 hours ago

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A Very Corroded Black Friday AKA Extended Holiday Hours CCFest x SMVerse Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader

CCFest Black Friday Prompt: One Day Only

Summary: In an unprecedented turn for 1986, StarCourt Mall announces that it's staying open for 24 Hours on Black Friday. Eddie barely survived a regular shift last year; what will happen when he and his friends embark on an adventure during the dreaded Extended Holiday Hours? It's one day only. How bad could it be?

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: No Upside Down AU, Friendship, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Character Growth, established relationship between Eddie and the Claire's Store Manager (reader), references to media and pop culture, retail and food service themes

Notes: Thanks to @corrodedcoffinfest for another fantastic pop-up, this one absolutely up my alley.

This fic is set in my Store Manager Verse. It's a very fluffy friends-to-lovers story about Eddie, who works at Tape World, and the Claire's Store Manager. This installment will be set in 1986 and I'll do my best to make it as digestible as possible for anyone who hasn't read SMVerse. Just know that the focus will be on Corroded Coffin more than Eddie and Reader.

I might be a smidge late with this than I hoped I would be; I had my own Black Friday nightmares to deal with today. Such is the world of retail. Hope you enjoy the shenanigans of our favorite guys.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

November 27, 1986 - Thanksgiving 11:45PM

"Do we have to go in?"

"Yes."

"What if we all faked our deaths and changed our names?"

"Then you can't buy your mom that glass bird she wanted for Christmas, dingus."

"We could just sell one of Dave's kidneys to buy the bird."

"Why one of my kidneys? She's your mom!"

"Considering how many 'your mom' jokes I've had to hear, it might as well be your kidney."

"Guys!" you shouted to get them all to stop their bickering. "It'll be alright. It's just Black Friday. We'll survive."

"Barely," Eddie grumbled from his spot in the driver's seat.

"You're not helping," you scoffed at him.

You were all piled into the van, staring at the brightly-lit entrance to StarCourt Mall as though it was the gate to hell.

As a matter of fact, it might as well have been. There was already a line of grouchy, cold customers gathered outside the entrance to the mall, and each time a group of employees approached to be let in by mall security, they started shouting and getting restless, as though the doors were about to open for them instead of the poor souls that would inevitably be the targets of their shitty behavior.

After a year of being open, the excitement around the new and shiny StarCourt Mall had faded. Now it was just The Mall, much like every new shopping center became after the novelty wore off. People still shopped, of course they did, but mall management seemed to like the hype that had surrounded StarCourt upon their grand opening.

So they came up with a gimmick that got them on the news and in the papers and had all of the residents of Roane County talking: Extended Holiday Hours.

In fact, not just any extended hours.

The mall would be open for 24 Hours on Black Friday.

Actually, it wouldn't just be open. It was a whole event.

There would be gift certificates for the first 100 customers who entered the mall, raffles and giveaways, free snacks and hot cocoa available all day, and all the pomp and circumstance surrounding Santa's long-awaited arrival to Roane County as his workshop opened for families to snap their perfect holiday pictures.

Gag.

Although you were well-versed in retail with a store of your own--that you'd volunteered to work the whole 24 hours with a sneaky nap in the stock room slipped in--Eddie had only experienced one Black Friday, as a mid-shift. And Jeff, Gareth, and Dave? This would be their first holiday season in retail, let alone a crazy gimmick on the biggest shopping day of the year.

So the Gates of Hell? Yeah, they were actually looking pretty tame compared to StarCourt Mall.

As if sensing your sudden and uncharacteristic trepidation, Eddie sat a little straighter and took on a look of determination.

"Alright," he rallied as the clock on the dashboard clicked closer to midnight. "Are we gonna sit in here and freeze to death as we wait in fear? Or are we gonna go in there and try our best? Because those paychecks are gonna look pretty nice if we survive.

"So what do you guys say?"

He turned back to his younger friends, eyebrows raised expectantly.

They all glanced at each other before they all shouted for Eddie to start the van and drive them all home.

"Unbelievable," he grumbled and yanked his keys from the ignition so he could climb out of the van himself.

You and the others followed suit and you walked towards the entrance together, in solidarity, before splitting off to your respective stores once you were in.

StarCourt's 24-Hour Black Friday Blowout was One Day Only.

How bad could it possibly be?

3:15AM Gareth - Hot Dog on a Stick

Gare didn't know how people could be hungry for something from the food court in the middle of the goddamned night when they'd just gorged themselves on Thanksgiving dinner and surely had plenty of leftovers back home.

At least, that was the mindset he had when he agreed to being on the opening shift for Black Friday.

Hot Dog on a Stick hadn't been his first choice for a job; actually, he thought that he'd be a shoe-in for getting rehired at Santa's Workshop, just like he'd done last year for some extra cash. Unfortunately, he'd been a little too late with his application.

"Food Court's always hiring though," his old boss suggested sympathetically.

So Hot Dog on a Stick it was.

He thought the job would be easy, especially the opening shift for Black Friday. He'd had his training shifts and they had gone so well! He figured they'd be like that. 8 hours of eating funnel cake fries and thinking of the perfect gifts for his friends and flirting with his coworker, Annie, until it was time to go home.

Maybe he'd even get the balls to ask her out by the time they clocked out.

He should have known that expectation would definitely not meet reality.

And everything that could go wrong definitely did.

He'd burned the first batch of hot dogs that they'd prepared as they opened for business. He swore he'd only turned to get a glimpse of Annie's perfect profile for just a second as she talked and laughed with their shift lead. Next thing he knew, the fryer was beeping and the oil was bubbling and he was scrambling to get the hot dogs out as quickly as he could before the fire alarms went off.

His rotation at the register wasn't much better.

You know, he was actually pretty good at keeping track of things in DnD. Jeff was the more superior note-taker, but Gareth was actually the one who caught all of the little intricacies that Jeff seemed to miss.

Taking orders from people was an entirely different story, though. He couldn't seem to press the right buttons on the cash register, and if he did and he got lucky, he forgot to charge them for something else. The line of customers just got longer and longer, and angrier and angrier, and his shift lead kept coming over to fix his mistakes.

He was about to scream when he felt Annie's hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't I take over for you," she smiled sympathetically. "I'm pretty good on the register. If you want to just focus on getting everyone's orders together?"

He swallowed his frustration, nodded dumbly, and listened to the suggestion.

The longer he kept his head down and focused on the task at hand, the more dejected he felt. This job was chaotic and fast-paced and unlike anything he'd ever done in his life. There were so many eyes on him and he kept messing up. It had only been 3 hours and somehow he felt like he never wanted to come back again.

Soon, it was time for him to take his lunch. He was already so sick of the smell of food that he skipped his own lovingly-packed leftovers in favor of walking around the mall. As he dodged wayward customers shuffling from one store to the next, laden with shopping bags, he contemplated ripping his stupid hat off his head and quitting.

Money or no money, he didn't care; his shift lead could take his stupid job and shove it.

When he returned to the food court, though, he saw something that made him change his mind.

Annie was in the back, sitting on an overturned milk crate, with her head in her hands as she cried quietly.

"Hey," he said, trying not to startle her. "You ok?"

"No!" she wailed and looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with fire, but they softened as they landed on Gareth. "No. Some lady called me stupid because I wouldn't accept her dumb StarCourt Black Friday coupon. It even said 'excludes food court' on it, and she refused. Then when I refused to get a manager to give her a discount, she squirted me with mustard and said '"'the customer is always right.'"

Lo and behold, the front of her multicolor uniform was stained with splotches of yellow mustard.

"What a bitch," Gareth swore.

"Yeah," she sniffed. "What a bitch."

The two of them stared at each other for a second before they laughed and shared more of their woes with each other.

Gareth quickly realized that as bad as he had it at this shitty job, his coworkers had it just as bad, if not worse. And it would all be ok, because they had each other to complain to and make faces at.

So he might quit, one day. Maybe even tomorrow. But it certainly wouldn't be today.

6:00AM Dave - Spencer's Gifts

"Where do you think you're going, David?"

Dave froze at the voice behind him as he crept closer and closer to the front of the store. He turned and found himself under the unsettling--and quite frankly creepy--gaze of his boss, Henry Creel.

"Uh," he fidgeted. "Hey Henry. What's up? You need me on register?"

He knew that Henry most certainly did not need him on register, and he fidgeted under that intense stare as Henry folded his arms over his chest and waited for Dave to fess up to...whatever it was that he was up to.

See, Dave wasn't as stupid as he was making himself out to be here; actually, he was pretty clever. But he was the worst when it came to confrontation.

Expectation.

Or possibly a simple case of indecision.

This whole thing started because he needed a job. Who didn't? But given the way you and Eddie and Gareth went on and on about working at the mall, he'd been enticed into applying at almost every store at StarCourt.

Spencer's had been his dream, short of rock star or sex symbol or Geddy Lee's muse. How could it not be? The lewd t-shirts and the gag gifts. Of course, with a manager like Henry, he thought that he'd bombed the interview.

That's why when Mr. Newby had called and offered him a seasonal position at Radio Shack, he'd said yes immediately.

Dave had been ecstatic. He already liked the jovial, older man. He was not only friendly to his customers but he was friendly to his employees too. Dave really felt like he was part of the family when he'd gone into orientation.

So why was he currently at Spencer's?

Because after he'd hung up the phone with Bob, Henry had called to offer him another seasonal position.

His dream job at StarCourt.

What could he possibly do but accept the job? Accept both jobs. Especially when Bob was so nice to him, and Henry was so off-putting.

Dave figured...he was done with school, there wouldn't be anything wrong with having two jobs and juggling both schedules and band practice and DnD. That should've been the end of it.

He'd gone to orientations and training shifts. He got shiny plastic name tags and keys to the locked cases and quickly made friends with his coworkers. Everything was going swimmingly.

Until his Black Friday shifts overlapped entirely.

He tried to bring it up to both of his managers but every time he tried to open his mouth and say something, he lost his nerve.

In the end he figured if he was smart about it, he could work both shifts simultaneously.

And he had been smart about it. Radio Shack and Spencer's were almost right across from each other in the same wing at StarCourt. With the massive crowds of customers to take advantage of, plus some well-planned breaks and lunches, and some over-staffing for the big day, he could sneak across the hall every so often and no one would know any better.

He switched his name tags and his keyring, dedicating his left pocket to Radio Shack and his right pocket to Spencer's.

And it had been working.

Until now.

He and Henry stared at each other, as if waiting for the other to break, but Dave had never been good at staring contests and Henry seemed like he never needed to blink. Dave's eyes watered and his resolve wavered as his fear of confrontation got the best of him.

"Alright," Dave threw his hands over his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do it, I just couldn't tell you that I had a job at Radioshack or Bob that I had another job here. I didn't want to let either of you down. And I know I should just pick one store, but I like both jobs and I...I don't know...I don't know! I'm sorry!"

He hung his head in shame and waited for the older man to yell at him or tell him that he was fired or to get lost. He wouldn't even blame Henry if he turned him around and gave him a swift kick in the ass.

Instead, his boss crossed the distance and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You know, you could've just told me about the situation with your other job," Henry told him earnestly.

"Seriously?" Dave asked, dumbstruck.

"I'm not gonna fire you because you have a second job," Henry snorted. "There's nothing wrong with that. Joey works weekends at Bradley's too, and I work with him to make sure he isn't overworking himself as much as I can. I know I can be a little...intense sometimes, but I'm your manager, not a villain."

Dave forced himself to laugh along with his boss.

"I'll let you have an extra fifteen if you want to go and explain the situation to Bob. And you can decide which store you want to finish off the rest of your shift at."

"Alright. Thanks Henry."

Henry clapped him on the shoulder and then nodded towards RadioShack.

Dave thanked him again and then started to walk away, when he paused and turned back to Henry.

"Hey, uh, how'd you find out?" Dave asked. "That I was sneaking out of the store?"

"Well," Henry took a breath and folded his arms over his chest. "It took some serious observation skills, some detective work on my part. You honestly did a good job of sneaking back and forth in my opinion. I didn't realize it until five minutes ago when you made one fatal mistake."

"Seriously? What did I do wrong?"

Henry took a step forward and flicked a finger against Dave's chest.

"You're still wearing your Radio Shack name tag."

9:05AM Jeff - Sam Goody

Jeff was a pretty easy going guy, if he could say so himself.

He was funny, he was level-headed, he was attentive and a good friend, and he could get his friends out of a pinch if and when they needed him. And since he started this job, he found out that he was a pretty damn good employee too!

But today, of all days, he had a problem.

"Hey Jeffy," his coworker, Gina, snickered over the headset. "Your stalker is back."

And that problem was named Edward J. Munson.

"I think he's hiding behind the dump bins of discount cassettes Jeff, if you wanna deal with that?" His manager chimed in, causing Jeff to groan and abandon his spot in the back of the store.

Jeff couldn't exactly say that he blamed Eddie, really.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. Eddie was the reason they were both in this predicament in the first place.

Jeff had just wanted a job, just like everyone else, and he figured it would be really cool if he could work at Tape World alongside Eddie. It was a job that revolved around music, and over the course of the last year or so, Jeff had really witnessed Eddie develop another layer of confidence in himself, especially after losing it all the first two times he failed to graduate.

Now look at him, he was a keyholder at a job he was really good at, he finally graduated high school, and he had a girlfriend? He had really come into his own.

Jeff felt like it was his turn now.

Especially as he put any serious college plans on hold so they could focus on the band once Gareth graduated in June. Sure, he took a few classes at the tri-county community college and even had a job at the book store on campus. But music was his passion, just like Eddie's. So a job at Tape World made the most sense.

Only Eddie had said no.

Actually, he blamed you. Said you told him not to help his friends get a job once-upon-a-time, because that just put a strain on friendships.

And Jeff could understand how you'd come to that conclusion; shit, they had enough creative differences with Corroded Coffin sometimes.

So Jeff turned to the next-best option: Sam Goody.

Because there wasn't just one music store in the mall. There were two. Just because he couldn't work at Tape World didn't mean that he couldn't work at any music store.

But that had been a little too much for Eddie to stomach, apparently.

"Traitor!" he had wailed when Jeff excitedly broke the news to him. He'd fallen to his knees and clutched his chest as though his heart was about to burst. "How could you do this to me? To us. Didn't you learn your lesson when we watched the Godfather? Never go against the family Fredo!"

"It's just a job Eddie," Jeff argued as he nudged his friend where he was dramatically lying prone on the ground. "I'm not a traitor. I'm not going against the family."

No matter how much Jeff tried to defend himself, though, Eddie couldn't seem to get over the hurdle. Especially not today of all days, where he crept down the hall to sneak into Sam Goody and spy on Jeff every chance he got.

Breaks, trips to the loading dock to take out garbage, he even brought you along when you guys went on lunch together. He tried to be as stealthy as he could, ducking behind displays or holding a magazine over his face, but the whole Sam Goody staff recognized Eddie after the first two hours of the day. And after a good 9 hours of endless greetings and sales spiels and customer interactions, Jeff was starting to lose his mind, hallucinating Eddies all around the store. If someone wore a denim vest or leather jacket or a pair of brown eyes stared at him through a video display, well that must be Eddie.

Now his shift was almost over, enough was enough, and Eddie needed a swift talking to so that Jeff didn't have to put up with this nonsense for the rest of his life.

Or, at the very least, until his boss got sick of Eddie's antics and fired him.

Jeff circumnavigated the store so that he could sneak behind Eddie, and when he found the older boy crouched behind a cardboard standee of Cyndi Lauper, he lifted his foot and kicked Eddie right in the ass.

"Fah...rts," Eddie caught himself before he swore in front of a group of kids. He turned and glared at Jeff. "Farts, Jeffrey. What the hell was that for?"

"Why are you playing Mission: Impossible in my store, Ed?" Jeff questioned in response.

"I think you answered your own question there," Eddie sniffed haughtily. "Mission: Impossible. Reconnaissance. Scoping out the competition. Someone has to do it, especially since someone decided to turn to the dark side."

"I didn't turn to the dark side!" Jeff threw his hands in the air. "I'm not a traitor, I didn't betray our friendship, because I work at a rival store that you do."

"No but that's exactly what it is. I wouldn't help you get a job at Tape World, so you decided you'd break my heart by working for my nemesis."

"I don't think Sam Goody is your nemesis, Eddie," Jeff snorted.

"It's commercial," Eddie argued. "It's mainstream. It's--"

"It's a job," Jeff interjected. "I make $3.50 per hour and I get one free tape per month if I work more than 20 hours. It's fun here, I like my coworkers. I like the job. And I'm sure I would've liked it if I worked at Tape World with you too."

"You could've had fun selling candles at Wicks and Sticks!"

Jeff felt a pang in his chest, and although he could see the pain in Eddie's eyes, he needed to put his own feelings first. For once.

"I wanted to work someplace I enjoyed." He shrugged dejectedly. "You're always telling us to follow our hearts. So I did. And if that means that I'm a traitor...that I'm your nemesis now...I guess that's exactly what I am. And you don't need to worry about driving your nemesis home from work Ed. Have a great day."

He turned on his heel to head back towards his section to finish off his shift, heart plummeting into his ass as he realized that this nonsense probably cost him his closest friend.

But a hand clamped on his arm and stopped him before he got much further.

Jeff turned back and raised a questioning brow at Eddie.

"Can I help you find anything today sir?" he asked.

Eddie's mouth opened and closed a few times as he found the right words, face scrunched with, what Jeff knew was, self-loathing. Finally, he spoke.

"I thought," he paused for a moment to lick his lips. "I thought you took this job because you were mad at me for not getting you a job at Tape World. I hadn't realized it was because you actually wanted to...to work at a store like this."

"Damn Ed, are you the only one who can suggest music to people?" Jeff snarked.

"Considering I have the correct taste in music, yes," Eddie responded without missing a beat. But his expression got soft again. "But I'll let you tell people to listen to...I dunno Bon Jovi or whatever it is you guys sell here. As long as you're having fun doing it."

"I am," Jeff nodded, and then smiled widely. "I really like working here Eddie."

"Good."

"Alright then," Eddie cleared his throat and clapped a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "We're good then."

"Yeah."

"Then I only need to come and spy to make sure they're treating you well."

"No more spying Eddie!" Jeff laughed.

"Fine!" Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "No more spying."

2:35 PM Eddie - Tape World

Eddie was exhausted.

He hadn't expected to work a double, but he seemed to draw the short straw when Paulie showed up for his shift and promptly puked all over the front of the store.

Lucky bastard, getting some kind of food poisoning from Thanksgiving dinner.

Honestly, Eddie would rather be sick in bed instead of surrounded by screaming customers and all of the new hires that were now his responsibility to corral around the god damned store.

"Why me?" he whined to Kyle as his boss stood in front of the bathroom mirror and fixed the novelty turkey hat on his head.

"Because I don't want to," Kyle snorted.

"It's good to be the king, isn't it," Eddie swatted the turkey off Kyle's head, earning a groan from the older man. "Come on, I'm already picking up Paulie's shift, have Mitch babysit the new kids. I'll do all the returns. Every customer complaint. For the rest of my shift."

"You," Kyle poked a finger into Eddie's chest, "constantly refer to yourself as a shepherd with your little sheepies. I'm just adding to your flock. It's a bunch of kids from the high school. You need to work on your leadership skills if you wanna promote to ASM one day. This is how you get there.

"Just preach the good word about metal to them and do a few headbangs to hypnotize them, and then have them work on alphabetizing tapes. Easy squeezy."

And God Bless Kyle, because as good of a boss as he was to Eddie and the rest of the team--the older brother they never realized they wanted or needed--he was honestly a liar and an asshole.

Keeping an eye on the new hires was not easy or squeezy.

Eddie seriously didn't think that he had as bad of a time last year when he was new. But he guessed that last year he had a few months of experience under his belt before black friday. These kids were fresh.

A poindexter-type kid named Lawrence--not to be referred to as Larry by any means--who actually complained about how loud the music was inside of the store before he wandered off on his own and Eddie couldn't be bothered with him.

A blue-haired punk girl with a mohawk who dared to call him a freak and criticize him for his t-shirt. He hadn't even needed to tell her to go and organize the tapes, she took the initiative herself after she called the store a pig stye.

Eddie had to respect that.

Lastly, there was the one...

The only...

Mike fucking Wheeler.

"What? How did you get a job here Wheeler?" Eddie scoffed and crossed his arms. "I even told Jeff that he couldn't work here. Conflict of interest. No working with friends."

"Who said?" Mike whined.

"Mom says," Eddie emphasized the kids nickname for you.

"Bullshit. Besides, I'm already hired, and I'm here now. So you're just gonna have to deal with it."

Eddie grit his teeth as Mike grinned smugly.

"Kyle!!!!" He shouted across the store for his boss.

There was no way he was going to work with Mike Wheeler.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what he had to do.

And speaking of shepherd and sheep, that's exactly what Eddie and Mike looked like. Eddie went to help a customer and Mike trailed right behind him. Eddie labeled markdowns, Mike was labeling them too. Eddie suggested Metallica to a customer, Mike would interject with his favorite Metallica album to them.

The album which happened to also be Eddie's favorite as well.

It was honestly getting a bit annoying.

"He probably misses you," you offered when Eddie jogged upstairs to see how you were faring on the second leg of your own lengthy shift. "He looks up to you. And Dustin does too. And Lucas. They all do. This is probably a treat to hang out with you since you graduated. Be nice to him."

Eddie leaned closer to mutter in your ear, "He's waiting outside right now sweetheart."

"Ok," you sighed. "That's a little weird. Send him off on his own break. Give him a task of his own. Show him how to use the register. He doesn't need to follow you helplessly; you're letting him do it."

Eddie tried.

He absolutely did.

Mike was hopeless though.

Register training went about as badly as it could on Black Friday, with several buttons jamming and the cash drawer getting stuck in the open position.

Eddie even tried to get Mike to sweep, and Mike took it upon himself to actually mop the floors. Mop. On black friday. With a store full of customers.

Yeah, that was a disaster.

And Eddie could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing.

All while Kyle oversaw the whole store and laughed at every mishap.

Thankfully, the end of his shift was imminent, and he would be free of Mike Wheeler. At least until the next shift they had together.

"Maybe I'll have a stroke before then," he sighed and headed to the stock room to get his things so he could go and pass out back home.

Only to find Mike sitting at the little desk waiting for him.

"You did good today, Wheeler," he sighed and beelined for the little locker that held his things. He at least tried to put a little bit of a positive attitude on for Mike. It was his first day, after all. "It'll all get easier next time, you'll see. Just like learning to ride a bike."

"Uh," Mike scratched the back of his neck and shuffled back and forth. "I don't think I'll be coming back."

Eddie froze and stared at the younger boy.

"What?"

"Yeah, I...I just don't think I'm cut out for a job like this," he shrugged. "You make it look so easy."

"Practice. It takes practice," Eddie insisted. "What did I just say? Learning to ride a bike. You've gotta fall off a few times first. Scrape your knees and all that shit."

"Well, I think I'm in intensive care with the number of times I fell off today," Mike let out a self-deprecating laugh. "So I think it's time to return the bike. I'll tell Kyle when I leave."

"No you're not gonna tell Kyle shit," Eddie demanded. "Because you're not quitting. Come on Mike, I've seen you face the craziest monsters I could throw at a player in DnD and not blink an eye. You've got bravery, you've got guts. What is this?"

"This is different Eddie. I'm brave when I have my friends around," Mike sighed. "When I'm alone, I'm worthless."

And oh, Eddie Munson's heart--which was, admittedly, pretty big to begin with--grew three sizes at that.

Maybe you were right, that he was just being a grouch because Mike was a little snot-nosed punk. But Mike was one of his snot-nosed punks, and he wasn't gonna let one of his friends think that they were going through it alone.

Because he had thought he'd been alone so many times, and all he had to do was look past his own nose to see that there were plenty of people there to rally for him.

He took a breath and crouched down so he could look Mike in the eye.

"Hey kid, you're not alone here," he began gently. "I wouldn't have told you that you did a good job today if I didn't mean it. And it might seem like you're alone here because it's a new and scary experience. But you're not alone. You have me. And I'll be here to lead you through until you can face the scary world that is StarCourt on your own. You hear me?"

Mike's eyes darted back and forth between Eddie's before his face broke into a wide smile.

"Thanks Eddie," he cheered.

"Don't mention it."

"I'll do my best, I promise," Mike insisted. "I won't let you down, and...and..."

"I said don't mention it," Eddie stood straight and ruffled Mike's hair, then nodded towards the door. "You better go clock out and head home. I'm sure your mom has a turkey sandwich waiting for you at home."

Mike scurried out of the stockroom and Eddie turned back to his locker, and when he closed it, Kyle was suddenly there, grinning like the cheshire cat.

"Look at you, developing those leadership skills," he told Eddie proudly.

"I fucking hate you," Eddie snarked at him, then sighed. In that moment, he realized that this was a passing the torch sort of moment. Kyle had passed it to him when he gave Eddie a chance, and now Eddie was passing that torch to Mike by giving him the chance. He wouldn't fuck it up.

"Thanks Kyle."

November 28, 1986 Claire's - 12:10AM

You were dead by the time you and the closing team trudged out of StarCourt.

The mall itself looked like something out of a horror movie. The lights were off. It was practically abandoned and trash was everywhere. The mall muzak was shut off and there was the sound of a distant store radio that was still on somewhere, playing a haunting, off-tune saxophone.

But you survived. You and your team and countless other teams survived the epic StarCourt 24 Hour Blowout and you, thankfully, would be working the mid-shift tomorrow so you could sleep in.

You all exited the mall and into the employee lot, and you waved goodbye to your team as you approached the van that waited where Eddie had parked it almost a whole day prior.

"You better have gone home and actually gotten some rest," you announced as you threw open the passenger door to the familiar sight of Eddie and a bag of McDonalds, while Beth softly played on the stereo.

You pulled the van door shut behind you as Eddie sung along and then leaned across the console to drop a sleepy smooch of both greeting and gratitude on his lips.

"I did after I finished my double," Eddie said after a few soft kisses. "How are you doing?"

"I'm hoping that this fucking spectacle doesn't become a tradition," you announced and gestured towards the mall before you dug into the bag of food. "I don't think I can do another twenty-four-hour Black Friday again."

Eddie took in the sight of you, looking even more worse for wear than you had last Black Friday during a normal 8-hour shift.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say," he chuckled. "Gotta do something more than once if you wanna consider it a tradition."

"And is this our tradition now?" you asked.

"What? One of us has a rough Black Friday shift and the other feeds them."

"No," you snorted. "McDonalds and KISS when you pick me up from work?"

Eddie contemplated it for a moment, "you know what, it's not the worst tradition to have. What do you think?"

You sighed and sunk into the passenger's seat as you chomped away on hot, salty fries. You knew that you wanted to ask him about his day, and about the rest of the band and how their shifts went, but for now...

"I think it's perfect."

#store manager verse #smverse #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #corrodedcoffinfest #eddie stranger things #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #corrodedcoffinfest: black friday

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watchingsunrises · 2 days ago

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Ziam is real, climb on board

For the first time, we’re experiencing a genuine influx of people looking into Ziam, the real relationship between Zayn and Liam. And honestly it’s about time. It’s always been so beautiful and devoted and consistent and visible to those willing to invest and find out for themselves. It’s also been so unseen and dismissed and a bit buried by Larry too. I’m a Larry too, but right now I’m all about Ziam. I’m really happy Ziam is getting there deserved time seeing some light.

I’m not here to convince anyone. Ziam isn’t new, it has been around and discussed and real since 2012 when we believe their relationship started extending beyond friendship. There is an existing treasure trove that can be sought out by people willing to open their mind and examine it, especially from Zayn and Liam themselves. Right from the start and up until present day.

The truth is we are experiencing a moment we weren’t expecting. First with Liam’s death. Now with Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist.

People are interested in Liam and that is a normal reaction. People are noticing a lot of things that don’t make sense and are curious and questioning that. People can’t make sense about his relationship with his “girlfriend”, the public PR performance at his funeral of a select group of celebrities (all aligned with Modest, Simon Jones PR or existing narratives regarding the boys) and of course the narrative around his “son” Bear.

Usually when things don’t make sense, there is a good reason, we know this with Larry too, and so in the same way people should look and critically engage. Gaps can’t always be filled when we are dealing with public media narratives that then clearly don’t align with who a person really is consistently as a human. It's pretty hard work for all involved to contain a decades plus closet, in times like this. That is a big part of what people are noticing with Liam. They should question public narratives and media. Liam wanted to be seen and heard for who he really was, and celebrating and talking about Ziam right now is one of the biggest parts of seeing and knowing Liam. Its not disrespectful if you've done the work to see and know, just like with Larry.

Now we also finally have Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist. Seeing him on stage after a 10 year wait is kind of exhilarating and like any of the boys you get a reminder on stage of who the person really is, really leaning in and hearing the lyrics live and seeing his being. Zayn is very definitely coding to us in a way that he hasn’t been able to do so before. He knew we would be looking and he wants to be seen. He is literally telling us that he is honest and truthful in his music. Zayn’s public narrative has never made sense either, it's all the same closeting stuff. Copy of a copy of a copy.

The narrative set up for Room Under the Stairs was actually quite strange, and in reality it translates very poorly to the lyrics and the emotions. So many gaps and things that don't make sense. In the future I will share some analysis on RUTS. I’ve been immersed in the album non-stop since May. The album to me is mostly about his closet - the pain it has caused him, the effect it has had on his relationship, the pain and effect it has had on his long term partner, the ways in which he has had to reframe his mindset to live within the reality of his closet, the ways he has changed his lifestyle to focus on the simple things in life to help his mental health impacted by his closet (and other things). Yet throughout all that heartbreaking pain, he still talks about his person, his lover, he refers to 'they' in many key lyrics, he brings his partner into the lyrics clearly, lyrics that clearly refer back to past and present times. Its the same person, it always has been in Zayn's lyrics. He tells them and us that he wouldn’t change anything despite all that pain, that their love has been worth it, that he is devoted, that their love was like stardust from the start until forever. The most specific songs relating to his person haven't been included on the tour setlist - How it Feels, The Time, False Starts, Something in the Water and of course Stardust. They are the strongest songs on the album, the ones that have made me cry non-stop for the last 6 months. I suspect he rearranged the setlist, they would have been too hard to sing live. Instead we see a few B sides we wouldn't have expected on tour. I hope more people will listen to RUTS, it's absolutely devastating, empowering and life affirming and you can really see and feel who Zayn is.

Enjoy your Ziam journey if you decide to take it.

#ziam #ziam mayne #ziam is real #one direction #larry #larry stylinson #stts tour #stairway to the sky tour #zayn #zayn malik #liam payne

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transformers-nerd-13 · 3 days ago

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And here it is; the final part in my analysis of the first three episodes of season one of G1! The analyses of the first two episodes can be found on my page so go check those out if you're so inclined (I'm still learning tumblr so I don't know how to link posts yet lol). This post will be a bit long, so be warned of that. With that out of the way, let's get into it!

We start with a recap of what happened in the last two episodes to remind the viewer of the events that have taken place.

We're right where we left off with Optimus dramatically rolling down the cliff in awkward slow motion. Once he finally stops rolling, the other Autobots help him up onto his wheels. Optimus isn't worried about himself however; he's more worried about Roller who, incidentally, shows no sign of having been involved in an explosion. Prime struggles to transform back into his bot mode for a few seconds but eventually gets there with some encouragement from his fellow bots. After he transforms, he seems entirely fine, so we're not gonna talk about the blast he took seconds prior. Ratchet comments that "That was some blast you took", reminding Optimus that Bee and Sparkplug are still in the remains of the mines.

After a bit of digging, Jazz finds the two and gets them out with the help of Prowl.

(can we talk about how cute the above screenshots are??) Optimus congratulates Bee and Sparkplug on burying the Decepticons for good. Oh hey, guess what?

The cons are completely fine, their energon cubes are still functional, and they fly out of the mines unscathed. Good job guys.

Ironhide gets (understandably) frustrated and goes after the cons because the Autobots could still fly at this point. Bluestreak goes after Ironhide to stop him, but when Ironhide makes it clear that he's not backing down, Bluestreak joins him in his fight.

Ironhide fires on Skywarp (whether he actually hit him or not I have no clue) and Skywarp teleports behind Ironhide and Bluestreak, firing a missile at them but missing. Bluestreak says "It's like fighting a shadow!" I feel like this is an easily fixable problem--y'all can hover midair; we've seen you do this; you could just turn around and fire back at him??

Skywarp fires and he misses, he fires and he misses, this goes on for several minutes (if anyone gets the reference put it in the comments) until he finally manages to hit Ironhide, who falls from the sky into a conveniently located lake.

Bluestreak goes to rescue Ironhide and all of the other Autobots appear from the void to gawk at the rescue from the shore. Jazz uses his grappling hook like a rescue line once again to reel Bluestreak and Ironhide to shore. Ironhide says that he can't move, but Optimus points out "At least you can still talk old buddy." Despite saying that he can't move, Ironhide moves his arm just fine to emphasize his words while he's telling Ratchet what got damaged on his body. Ratchet transforms into his ambulance mode and Bluestreak and Jazz put Ironhide in the back of Ratchet's alt mode.

Ironhide and Ratchet are the same height with virtually the same alt mode; their toys were just recolors of each other; so how the heck did he fit back there?? Ironhide starts to tell an old war story, but Optimus tells him to "Save the war stories hot shot. Just remember that there's a thin line between being a hero, and being a memory." Which is just a great line. Jazz jokes that maybe Ironhide is ready for a cushy office job (idk how he would even obtain an office job in the middle of a war, let alone on Earth, I doubt he'd even fit in an office building) but Ironhide says he'll be back in action after Ratchet fixes him up. The bots start driving (presumably back to the ark) before we cut to Spike writing in his diary again, this time about how Optimus Prime would make a neat president and honestly? I agree.

Awkward cut to Hound sort of teasing Ravage by holding the key to his cage just out of Ravage's reach. Hound comments that he doesn't think Ravage likes being a prisoner; Mirage says that he can't blame him and that he's surprised that the cons haven't come to rescue him. Hound isn't surprised; the cons don't care about anyone; not even their own. He makes a hologram of Megatron, but it just seems to piss Ravage off. Mirage asks Hound to make him a hologram of a big house with a four car garage when they get back to Cybertron; the holograms look so real that nobody'll know the difference. Mirage. You turn into an F1 racing car. Why do you need a 4 car garage?? Are you going to host a lot of sleepovers when you get back to Cybertron?? And yeah nobody'll know the difference until they try to open a door or go upstairs and their body phases through the hologram.

This gives Hound an idea however; to make a big hologram of a rocket fuel base to trick the cons into coming to the bots on their terms. He shares the idea with autobot high command (aka Prime, Prowl and Jazz) who all agree to it. Hound goes back to tell Mirage about a (fake) secret stash of rocket fuel 140 kilometers due west, telling him that there's enough rocket fuel at that base to make four trips to Cybertron. The two go to tell Ironhide about the base to make him feel better. The two leave but Hound drops the keys to Ravage's cage. Ravage gets ahold of the key, unlocks his cage, and escapes. Hound, Mirage, Prowl and Jazz who were hiding behind a rock (for some reason) see Ravage getting away at the speed of ZOOM. The four go after Ravage but he ends up escaping. The four go back to just outside the Ark where Optimus and Cliffjumper are standing for some reason.

The four tell Optimus that Ravage got away and all look like the shocked Pikachu meme.

It's kind of unclear if they wanted Ravage to escape to trick the cons or not, it's kind of like the writers didn't know either and just never went back to clear it up.

Cut to the cons where Ravage reports back to Megatron about the rocket base Hound was talking about earlier. And we never hear Ravage speak again. Megatron commends Ravage for a job well done. Starscream and Megatron get into it again about Starscream wanting to be leader of the cons. Starscream says that "Now is the time for action, not words! I am the leader of the future!"

Megatron isn't using words though; so far he's only been using action, so this line doesn't make much sense.

Megatron insults Starscream's nonexistent leadership skills and Starscream takes that personally. He tries to shoot Megatron, but Soundwave (who's also there btw) calls out to his leader. Megatron uses a shield that we never see again to block the shot and somehow that one shot made Starscream run out of ammo (I guess he forgot to reload after the fight with the bots??). Megatron threatens to shoot Starscream while Starscream begs Megatron not to shoot him. Megatron shoots him anyway before declaring that the Decepticons would attack the base at sunrise. What is it with the Decepticons and attacking places at sunrise??

Cut to the next day at sunrise when Hound makes the hologram of the rocket base (how he knows what a human rocket base looks like I will never know) and the Decepticons show up immediately after the hologram is made (did they not see him make the hologram??)

The cons attack the hologram rocket base where the Autobots have appeared from the void during the commercial break all wearing lab coats which they quickly ditch to better fight the cons (where did they find such big lab coats and why??).

Not long into the fight, the bots realize that the cons they're fighting are decoys made by the cons out of scrap metal and junk (impressive engineering I guess but how did that work??) and the real Megatron reveals that he was onto the autobot's scheme from the beginning (how. Just how) and that the real cons have been at the real rocket base gathering fuel to make Energon cubes.

But in the next shot we see the cons just arriving at the rocket base. (I guess Megatron overestimated the speed of his soldiers). The humans at the base try to defend themselves but their weapons are completely useless against the cons. The cons get the energon they need and Megatron tells the cons to prepare for blast off.

Cut to the Autobots who have decided to attack the cons directly. Optimus asks for volunteers for the battle ahead and literally every Autobot steps forward; even Spike and Sparkplug volunteer. The bots transform and roll out.

Quick cut to the cons where Megatron talks about how close they are to conquest.

Cut back to the bots who encircle the con's base as the cons board their space cruiser. Before the cons can board, the bots make their presence known and the bots and cons duke it out once again.

Somewhere in the fight, Spike throws a rock at Starscream's blaster hard enough to knock the blaster off his arm (how did he do that??) and Prowl runs over Starscream's blaster rendering it useless. The cons gain a temporary victory over the bots and board the space cruiser while the bots shoot at them but miss horribly because once again everyone in this show has the aim of an absolute Stormtrooper. The cons take off in their new space cruiser. Jazz tells Prime that it's over; they've lost, but Prime says that it's not over yet. He borrows Sideswipe's rocket pack (that we never see again) to go after the con's ship.

Cut to the cons where Megatron says that they've seen the last of the Autobots and Optimus Prime, but Starscream says "Not yet we haven't" as he spots Optimus flying after their ship.

The cons fire on Optimus and actually manage to hit him, sending the Autobot leader plummeting back to earth. He hits the ground pretty hard but claims that he's alright when Prowl and Jazz help him up. The bots then notice that Mirage is missing and seem pretty calm about his not being there.

Cut to the cons where Starscream is trying once again to usurp Megatron (oh hey his blaster is back), who warns Starscream that once he becomes the leader, there will always be someone trying to take leadership from him, which makes me think Megatron is speaking from personal experience here; that’d be interesting. Maybe Megatron was once like Starscream, but he actually succeeded in taking leadership of the cons and regrets it on some level because now there’s a constant target on his back. It's revealed that Mirage snuck aboard the space cruiser and shoots the computers, causing the space cruiser to crash into the ocean. Mirage escapes before it crashes. He makes it back to the bots who congratulate him on defeating the cons.

Optimus commends Mirage for a job well done and Jazz says that they'd better get back to the ship since it still needs repairing. Spike (unprompted) asks Optimus if he can go to Cybertron with the bots when they go back. Optimus basically says "ask your dad" and Sparkplug says that Spike can go so long as he can go too. (Responsible parenting 101. Also how do they know that they’d survive on Cybertron?? Or is NASA getting involved and giving them space suits and food??) The bots transform and roll out.

Cut to later where Spike tells us while he's once again writing in his diary that since the Autobots prevented the Decepticons from stealing earth's resources (did they though? Cause it seems to me the cons got away with that), the governments of the world agreed to give the bots the energy they need to revitalize Cybertron, and that it was probably the first time that all the governments agreed on anything. (Since this was 1984, this was true. The only time--that I'm aware of--that all of the governments of the world ever actually agreed on anything in real life was in 1987; the Montreal Protocol; three years later, so at least that's accurate.)

Optimus tells Spike that they're ready to launch and Spike tells him that he'll be right there. Spike adds one more note in his diary that he's glad they don't have to worry about the cons anymore.

Cut to a shot of the ocean which fades into an underwater shot, showing us the Decepticon space cruiser that shows no sign of having crashed at the bottom of the ocean, as well as Megatron who leaves the cruiser and heads for the surface, leaving us with another cliffhanger.

Spike, you jinxed it.

And that was part three of Transformers; More than Meets the Eye. Just like the other two parts of More than Meets the Eye, it crams a lot into one episode, and a lot of it doesn't really make sense, but it's still a very fun watch. I feel like that's just the way it is when it comes to 80's cartoons.

Anyways, I hope this was enjoyable! My analysis of Fire in the Sky will probably be posted some time in the next few days, so stay tuned!

#transformers #maccadam #transformers g1 #optimus prime #soundwave #ravage #megatron #starscream #skywarp #bluestreak #tf prowl #tf jazz #tf ratchet #tf hound #tf mirage #tf cliffjumper #spike witwicky #sparkplug witwicky #episode analysis

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hackedmotionsensors · 16 hours ago

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this is personal so please don't reblog this bc I think its weird when I say personal stuff and people reblog it I feel like i shouldn't have to turn that setting on?? Lol

but...both of my parents are seniors. And neither one of them are doing very well health wise. My mom has nerve issues with her hand, diabetes and bad blood pressure, and has had multiple heart attacks, My dad had a fall and never really recovered and had some weird medical problems that we thought were strokes but they never confirmed it. He also got covid at the hospital for those problems so THANKS arizona hospitals

Anyway I get all that. And I wish i could help or be around more. But unfortunately my job (unless we get some cool changes in the agreement) require me to live in LA. I also LIKE living in LA (surprisingly with how much I hate traffic LOL)

But I always get SO STRESSED OUT during the holidays bc I visit them and I need to cross reference with my brother (but again he might not even CARE or be aware that this is happening bc...he just...kinda doesn't care when it happens and I DO see it). I need to ask him or his wife if this happens when I'm NOT here because I have a feeling it gets WORSE when I visit.

But each time I visit my mom finds a way to be a complete and utter bitch at my dad. And my dad IS frustrating. I totally get it. He's always been really frustrating but now its like...frustrating bc he does things that could endanger himself or chooses ways to not make things easier for himself out of pride or just being a senior and not wanting to admit stuff? Idk. I know its a fairly common thing. He also got phone scammed a few months back out of 7k$ and we all were like WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF. He doesn't even like paying for COFFEE or good food for himself but LIED TO THE BANK to take out the money when they were like "This sounds like a scam sir" .....SO I GET IT. TRUST ME I GET IT.

But Thanksgiving was mostly good! Last Christmas (lol) I was stressed myself bc I was out of a job for a whole year and had to prep for a con and my car was on its last legs and like I said I just...get stressed LOL Its why i always drive. If I need to bail I absolutely will. Our family has NEVER been good during holidays. Its a lot of abused and abusive people with varying levels of addictions or mental illnesses (is it ANXIETY acting up this year? Or adhd induced RAGE from being overwhelmed! Has someone had TOO MUCH WINE and decided instead of being silly that they want to FIGHT!??! WHO CAN SAY!?!? ITS ANYONE'S GUESS!!!)

And Mom was just RELENTLESS last year. ANYTHING my dad did was a problem. ANYTHING he did...EXISTING...in a place he wasn't supposed to was like...a huge slight against her and because I had the audacity to be like "Mom relax. He's not doing anything" it meant I wasn't on her side or was insulting her or SOMETHING. And it completely blew out between me and her to the point she called my sister crying to try and be like LYDIA'S BEING HORRIBLE AND HATES ME ND SHE CALLED ME A BITCH(which I didn't but i VERYYYY nearly did because she was being a bitch) and like ...my sister is YOUNGER THAN ME LMAO. So my sister texted me like "what happened??" and I told her and she was like...AH. Okay I get it. Because my mom USED to live with her too but she pitched a fit at her and decided to basically run away from living with my sister and move in with her cousin. Then she left there (which honestly seemed the most stable?) and moved in with her sister. And she hated that too.(Running theme in this family is that my aunt is an ACTUAL bitch and I've known that since she came into the bathroom one time when I was sitting on the toilet bc I ran past her on the way into the house bc i REALLY had to pee and she came INTO the bathroom to scream at me for being rude.......but anyway) And then she ended up moving back in with my dad (They aren't married its just...basically roommates LMAO)

She hated living with my brother. My mom is like me. She's basically like a beta fish. She'll just bite the shit out of anything in her tank. I used to live with her and hated it.

LOL OKAY ANYWAY LONG STORY BUT basically....it was a fairly good holiday this time in comparison. I also left after a single day lol Bc I hate thanksgiving to begin with. Not 100% related to my family. I just think the holiday is stupid and pre-gaming christmas and a huge waste of money for someone who travels bc I'm gonna see all these maniacs in three weeks anyway.

I also had a deadline so I had a really good excuse to dip. Thank god.

But bc my parents helped me last year a lot I was like Let me do something REALLY minimal and take y'all out to breakfast. And on the way there my mom is sitting in the back seat behind my dad. My dad uses a cane but she doesn't like sitting in the front anyway. But she was sitting behind him and suddenly 'THE CAR SMELLS'.

Me genuinely thinking something was wrong like maybe I left the travel jerky i bought to eat on the way open. Or maybe I randomly smelled. Its a new car but I'm so used to my old car than anything potentially a problem is a stressor. But no. It was a not subtle way of bitching about my dad. And I was like....okay whatever let it go. Dad didn't say anything so lets just ignore it. Its only another hour or so. And then we get to the restaurant we were going to. My dad and I both get eggs and I ask if she can pass the ketchup. She hands ME the ketchup no problem. Then my dad uses it and sets it on the table. Pretty normal.

This is a thing ~I~ like to do. I like to put the condiments back in the holder thingies. Its not a deal breaker but its like...just a thing. Why have another thing in the way when we can put the ketchup back. So I can't reach it so I'm like "Mom can you tuck this back into the thing" "No. I don't want germs".

I knew exactly what she was doing and was like "Just put it back. I like to put them back." "NO. Its dirty. People touch it"

By this point the vein in my forehead is already throbbing. I go FINE. ITS FINE. I know exactly who you mean. And honestly I'm sure my dad does too and is just.....getting through it. I KNOW she's trying to rile ME up. She picks like a little fly at my dad all the time and its not to get a rile out of him bc she knows he won't really do anything about it. Unless she's hoping he'll blow up eventually and die. IDK (It might not be that drastic BUT Y'NEVER KNOW!!!)

So I let it go. And then she does that thing that bullys or abusers or idk what to even call this but she's done it to me HER WHOLE LIFE. She starts trying to act cute. "Can I have a bite of your eggs Lilly <3"

me "No. I don't want germs"

And now mom is mad. Not a total blow out but I know she's pissed at that. And I don't want this to totally melt down so i offer her the eggs if she really wants but she's already in a snit. THANKFULLY!!!!!!!!!! it blows over. Probably due it it being a massive carb bomb after yesterday's carb bomb. So before we head out I'm like Can you put the ketchup back now? I wanna put the syrup back too. SHE HUFFS. GOES "FINE" and picks it up as if it was covered in dog shit by the tip of her fingers.

AND I AM SCREAMING IN MY HEAD

THAT THIS IS WORSE THAN CHILDREN. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW. And she goes back into 1) doing NOT SO SUBTLE jabs at my dad. Using old insults she's always used but not SAYING its because my dad touched it but that PEOPLE touched it. BITCH YOU TOUCHED IT FIRST AND THEN ATE YOUR FOOD. She only washed her hands before eating bc she went to the bathroom AND she never wears a mask. You give two fucks about germs.

And then she has the audacity to say to me "THATS WHAT WAITRESSES ARE FOR"

which is A HUGE FUCKING TRIGGER FOR ME BC I USED TO WORK IN SERVICE. AND SO DOES SHE. IT DOESN'T ~MATTER~ WHAT THEIR JOB DESCRIPTION IS. IT HURTS ~NO~ ~ONE~ to pick up after yourself A LITTLE. Its just putting the ketchup BACK in the FUCKING CONTAINER. ALSO. WE VISIBLY SAW HOW SWAMPED THEY WERE. Its Black Friday they were hauling ass that day and we didn't end up waiting SO long but it was definitely a wait bc of how busy it was. So you're gonna make this lady who was ONLY NICE TO US. Didn't charge me an extra coffee bc I'm a mad lass who had a latte and a black coffee lmao AND She was Latina. Was there not some....Latina togetherness!??! HELLO!??? Very Mexican't mom. (we're not Mexican lmao)

And then on the drive home god I don't even remember exactly what it was bc the blood was in my ears and I was just trying to get them home so i could leave. She said something else that was VERY POINTEDLY about my dad and called it "PEOPLE" again. Like he's not stupid cmon man.

Like just for NO REASON. NOTHING my dad did had anything to really set her off on this. She was just being MEAN to be MEAN. And she KNOWS i hate it.

When i grew up I was always a lot closer to my dad and I can empathize with that. But...idk man we just had more in common? Even if she wasn't working super hard to make ends meet and he was middle class like I GET IT.

But there's resentment and just being a fucking bitch for no reason.

And again this is not to say like Oh my dad the poor uwu old man always getting beat up wah wah wah. Bc again he does a LOT to frustrate me on like...a blood pressure exploding way. But for him its just like...why would you DO THAT. Like we were in the middle of a walk with the family (my brothers family and me and the parents) and he goes OH YEAH LYDIA I MEANT TO SAY....You owe me money for the phone. Which was so fucking embarassing like why would you SAY THAT!?!?! Like i was so frustrated and like ugh. LOL And a thing my mom gets at my dad about is she's like "I SEE SENIORS ALL THE TIME OLDER THAN YOUR DAD THAT RUN MARATHONS" or whatever nonsense. And I'm like mom YOU can't even run a marathon or do half the thing these people say but also SOME PEOPLE ARE DIFFERENT!?!?!? My dad had a pretty bad fall a while back and never really recovered from it. So its really frustrating when he CARRIES AROUND HIS CANE or chooses to not bring it with him...and he just...doesn't use it. Like literally I was like Dad you have to USE your cane to stand up and walk not just carry it around like a purse. "Its a psychological thing more than anything" *cue me bursting all the blood vessels in my brain* and my mom being like SEE!? I have to deal with this ALL THE TIME. *shakes desk* BUT YOU MAKE THINGS WORSE BY BEING A BITCH AT THE SAME TIME AGHHHHHHH

I just....genuinely wish I had normal parents and a normal holiday get together instead of dreading the end of the year that its something I HAVE to do because I genuinely love these people but the drive back my chest hurt, my head hurt, my throat hurt from ranting in my car my JAW hurt from clenching it from stress.

Like at this rate I'm gonna die before they do holy shit. And I think also because they're seniors and in bad health that I worry about them at the same time because....its not fair to either of them that they had to end up moving in together (It ends I think in march thankfully) and because they're seniors that I know...well this could be the last holiday i spend with them. So I make the effort, risk the covid and just go visit them when i can. But holy fucking shit.

lmao my mom LITERALLY just called me now like MY GODDDDDD LMAO HOW DID SHE KNOWWWWWW

#EXTREMELY PERSONAL #DO NOT REBLOG #might delete later

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majimaisms · 3 days ago

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Do you think Majima has ADHD?

well. its not something i think about when im writing him, so i guess in a functional sense the answer is no. but that's mostly because i haven't analyzed his behavior through this framework. the question to ask there, for me, is "is it useful to analyze majima through this framework?" does it explain things about him? is it conducive to developing a better understanding of him as a person? does it explain why he has the problems he has? because that is my primary concern as a writer, to understand a character. and i guess my gut feeling on that (as someone with ADHD) has been that, no, it would not be useful to me.

that being said, we could certainly try to make an argument for majima having ADHD, and failing that, explain why he might not have it with something more substantial than a "gut feeling" lmao. so. long answer under the read more (be warned that it is very long)

keep in mind that ADHD unfortunately remains a poorly understood and understudied disorder, and that i am by no means an authority on the subject. here's what it takes to reliably diagnose someone with ADHD, which, even if i were a trained professional, i would not be able to do, because i can't interview him. but we can still work with what we have.

first, lets look at what ADHD is.

to make a case for majima having ADHD, you could point to his apparent hyperactivity, and i think you could be inclined to take his boredom during meetings and lack of interest in anything business-related as a manifestation of his inattentiveness symptoms. he can't pay attention because he's easily distracted, etc.

similarly, this line from him in dead souls made me think about how people with ADHD also often tend to find their own way of doing things, which may seem counterintuitive or nonsensical to others. there are more references to him "doing things his own way" in dead souls, y0 and kiwami (that i can remember), so this is just one example. he certainly has a unique way of going about things and he takes pride in that, even if people think it's odd. this is definitely something neurodivergent people across the spectrum experience.

however, this is a pretty surface level analysis. let's look at a more detailed description of how these symptoms may manifest

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder in adult life (Silver, 2000).

re: hyperactivity, his career choice certainly is an active one, but he didn't choose it for that reason. we see him in meetings many times, and yes, he's bored, but he never fidgets or exhibits any of the behaviors described here. he doesn't seem to find it difficult to "sit still". he likes being active, yes, but he's not restless in this way. he gets restless before fights, but i would consider that an exception, not the rule.

re: inattention, i don't think majima struggles with any of the problems described here. i don't think we see him being "distracted" or "spacey" at all in any of the games. in fact i remember him calling someone a "space-case" in y0, so it's something he actively notices and dislikes in other people. majima doesn't have trouble "filtering out unimportant thoughts", he has the opposite problem of being too single-minded. guy has tunnel vision when it comes to carrying out tasks. he finds something to do and doesn't stop until he's done. his life is anything but "full of incomplete tasks or activities." and i don't think his disinterest in meetings is due to an inability to stay focused, i think he just finds it boring and doesn't want to hear about it. because there's nothing to suggest this is something that causes a problem in his life, or that he couldn't change it if he wanted to.

as for impulsivity, i also don't remember him interrupting anyone, but of course impulsivity doesn't begin and end there. Moeller et al. (2001) define impulsivity as "a predisposition toward rapid, unplanned reactions to internal or external stimuli without regard to the negative consequences of these reactions to the impulsive individual or to others."

i elaborate on this in the analysis essay im working on, but i argue that majima is not impulsive. he pretends to be impulsive as part of the mad dog act, but when you look at what he's actually doing in his day-to-day life, he's always planning. majima everywhere is a great example of this. he doesn't let himself be derailed by momentary distractions, he doesn't compromise his plans like that. and he basically deals in plans, they're his bread and butter. both short term and long term plans, and it's especially the latter that i would like to emphasize here.

what makes ADHD as a disorder so disruptive to not only daily life but life in general is that it makes you disorganized and unable to follow through on plans or tasks. in my very limited literature review (that i conducted to answer this as properly as i could, lol) i found Barkley's explanations to be very useful towards understanding ADHD as a disorder, especially as someone who lives with it, so i'll share some insights from him below

ADHD and Executive Functioning

there's evidence pointing to a strong relationship between ADHD and executive dysfunction. however, it's important to note that they are not synonymous, so problems with executive functioning may not be necessary for an ADHD diagnosis if other symptoms are present.

majima is a master of executive function. i can't speak to #3 or #4 because i don't have access to his daily internal thoughts, but everything else on this list is something majima is very good at. the only exception to #2 i can think of is him hitting mirei, and there's a reason that was so out of character for majima. the reason is that he is not impulsive. he has incredible levels of self-restraint. he's aware of the consequences, too aware if anything. it's part of what makes him so good at what he does.

i think an interesting thing you realize about majima as you go on analyzing him is that he's not doing half the shit he does despite the consequences, he's doing it because of them. and the rest of the time, it's not that he was momentarily unaware of the consequences, he just doesn't care. he's not rude or blunt or aggressive or physically violent because he's not thinking about the consequences in that moment and acting on impulse. he just doesn't care. again, mirei is an exception, but i don't think that qualifies him as someone who generally struggles with self-restraint.

he's always doing things deliberately, intentionally. he is too good at planning for the future. he's very calculating and in control of his behavior. impulsive behavior is something you might regret doing, but couldn't stop yourself from doing. even with simple things, such as deadlines, or literally any plan at all. majima does not experience this very often if at all, and he certainly doesn't experience it often enough for it to be an overarching pattern causing problems in his life.

again, he does not struggle with executive dysfunction. he is very good at organizing and planning for the long term and carrying out those plans. he's very good at getting what he wants, and what he needs. there's no obstacle to that that arises from his own impaired ability to see things through.

to go back to impulsivity for a moment, there's another form of impulsivity that often gets overlooked, and is understudied in ADHD research, and that is emotional impulsivity.

there's a lot of debate around this, with people saying emotional symptoms are too nonspecific to be used as diagnostic criteria, but a 2018 study suggests emotional impulsivity and disrupted emotional self-regulation may be specific enough to ADHD to be part of the diagnostic criteria. however, they specifically excluded irritability from these symptoms, and i would say that irritability is maybe the one thing that we can observe in majima that he regulates poorly. but again, even that i would argue is mad dog. we see him in y0 being incredibly, i mean just unimaginably patient. and his emotional states don't seem to persist, he can self-regulate better than most people i know. he talks to himself, hypes himself up, talks himself down, etc. we see this a lot in y0.

i think this is true for majima, so again, points to him not having ADHD.

that being said, i do wonder if his "let's fight it out" outlook on life isn't related to emotional impulsivity. the study suggests that people with ADHD might "prefer the immediate reward of a quick emotional response (e.g., relief of distress) rather than the longer term rewards of self-regulation (e.g., not aggravating an already demanding situation)."

majima prefers to get everything out in the open and resolve the conflict with violence instead of trying to regulate his emotions through other means. he doesn't ignore his emotions, if he's frustrated or annoyed, he wants to fight you about it. but him being yakuza complicates things here, because he's doing this with the express purpose of resolving the situation, not accidentally escalating it. and it works. because that's the norm in his community. so, again, i don't know if this counts. the y0 examples with sagawa and shimano are so strongly against this reading of him that i can't think of any counter-evidence that would cancel it out.

so, to summarize, we can see some overlap between ADHD symptoms and majima's behavior. but all of this is to say nothing of other potential causes for these symptoms. depression, anxiety, bipolar, these are all things that can manifest in similar ways, or even be comorbid with ADHD. so without screening him for other conditions, we can't say anything definitive.

there's also different frameworks to consider. you could certainly turn to psychiatric conditions to explain some of these things, but nothing in life is so simple. you could also point to poverty, a dysfunctional home environment, trauma, cultural factors, all of which are things that interact with each other, which complicates things further. and i could talk about that for another hour.

also important to note here that i have ADHD myself, so i think that is actually another complicating factor that makes me averse to seeing majima as having ADHD, because i look at him and i just see all the ways in which we're so different when it comes to executive function.

ultimately, i think a good approach to take with diagnoses is to look at whether or not it would be useful to the person to have that diagnosis. would it help them understand themself better, would the diagnosis help them with things they are struggling with? would it increase their likelihood of getting treatment they need? would it help them connect with people who share their diagnosis and build a support system? and i simply don't see this to be the case for majima. i don't think he has problems in his life that are caused by ADHD, and i don't think he would benefit from a diagnosis.

however, i think it's also important to take a step back and ask, does it help you to see majima as someone with ADHD? is that useful to you? because ultimately, majima is a fictional character, and one of the most valuable functions of art, in my opinion, is that it can act as a bridge in your relationship with yourself. what i mean is, dont let my answer discourage you from headcanoning him however you want <3

lastly, i want to say thank you for sending me this ask, because i got super excited about it and fell down a research rabbithole and that is something i really, really enjoy. i also care a lot about this subject so i'm happy i got to yap about it. i think there's a lot of conversations to be had around this that i find fascinating, especially as it relates to queerness and neurodivergence in general, but i'll maybe save that for another time lmao

#sorry for the long reply #but. you did ask!#and sorry for the late reply. actually #i was adhd-ing it lmao #majima goro #yapping #asks #majeem #my analysis #remember u can use sci-hub to access p much any published academic article btw #if u wanna do research of ur own #also if u have any followup questions or anything to add at all really feel free!#anyway i think i deserve a medal for not bringing the alcoholism into it #and mentioning poverty only once #because goddamn

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solavita · 3 days ago

Text

headlock (gojo satoru) — chapter four

pairing ; satoru gojo x fem!reader

words ; 6.0k

warning(s) ; mentions of corruption, enslavement, reader gets slapped, espionage

author's note ; this work will include dark themes like violence, enslavement, character death, psychological trauma, and references to torture. sexual content is also included. reader discretion is advised.

masterlist can be found here !

Shortly after packing up her things, Yui left, with a brief kiss to your cheek as a means of good luck. There was no mirror in your room, but you could only assume that you looked out of place. You exhaled slowly, hands brushing over the fabric of the dress she had chosen just for you. The deep green velvet dress hugged your sides, the cut modest enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but elegant enough to demand notice, with moderately tall heels clicking as you grabbed the bedframe in order to steady yourself. You hated the way that the shoes made you feel taller, more visible, every movement amplified.

You thought back to Hana’s words. How she said not to trust anyone here, not even herself, and in turn, that extended to Yui. Were you to trust what she said about this man Kento? Or was this another deviously left trap you were about to find yourself in? And yet, what choice did you have? You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being dressed for a funeral — the question was whether it would be yours or not.

Looking out the window, you let out a huff. The evening stretched ahead of you, the unknowns piling higher with each passing moment. Your chest felt tight as you thought about the dinner, the people who would be there, the conversations you would have to navigate, the lies you would have to tell.

And Satoru.

His presence lingered in your mind like a shadow you couldn’t shake, a threat that was as intoxicating as it was terrifying. He would be watching you tonight. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach, that sense of being under a microscope, every word, every gesture dissected. He would know if you faltered.

You open the door and stepped outside, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin, a sharp contrast to the suffocating warmth you had grown accustomed to from your room. You barely had time to adjust to the dim light before your eyes landed on him.

Satoru Gojo stood a few steps away, leaning casually against the wall. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but there was an unmistakable sharpness to his gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. He was dressed in fine clothing, the kind that suited someone of his status — a tailored black suit with subtle silver detailing along the lapels, his shirt collar unbuttoned just enough to lend an air of defiance to his otherwise polished appearance. The dark fabric contrasted starkly with his shock of white hair, which looked as though he’d spent precisely two seconds running a hand through before deciding it was good enough.

He was scanning you through his black blindfold, not even bothering to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well,” he said, his tone casual, like someone who was on some type of date. “Don’t you clean up nicely? Nice to see you in something a little less coated with blood.”

You bristled at his words, at the way he looked at you like you were some shiny new toy. But you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, your hands gripping the folds of your dress to keep them from trembling with fear.

He saw right through it.

“You nervous?” He asked, his voice dropping slightly. “Big night and all. Lots of important people watching. You probably haven’t been around this many people since Japan was a thing, or, wait, how many people were in the cell you were in again?”

You met his gaze, forcing yourself to hold it, even as the weight of his words, his attention pressed down on you. “Why would I be nervous?” You asked, the words steadier than you would ever feel in this type of situation. “It’s just dinner, right?”

“Exactly. Just dinner. Keep that in mind, and you might just enjoy yourself.”

He extended an arm, and as much as it made you internally cringe to grab it, you did so without so much as a rolled eye. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, then, with one last deep breath, you stepped forward, your heels clicking against the polished floor as you moved past him. The closer you got to the sounds of talking, laughing, and the clinking of glasses, the more you could feel a sense of dread wash over your entire being. The grand hall loomed ahead, its tall, arched doors already cracked open, revealing a sort of golden slow. It was a life that promised warmth, elegance, and luxury — everything that was so sickeningly out of place in the world you knew lied beyond these walls. You glanced at the gilded carvings that adorned the walls, the intricate chandeliers hanging high above. Everything screamed wealth, power, and indulgence.

It made you sick.

Millions had died — men, women, children. Lives snuffed out in the name of the Republic, in the name of order, all for the sake of a vision built on power and control. Those people were gone now, scattered to the winds, or buried in unmarked graves. And you were here, dressed up in a fine green dress, playing the part they wanted you to play, even though you hadn’t even been put up onto television yet. It felt like a betrayal — a betrayal to everyone who had died believing that there was a way out of this nightmare.

“Thinking too much, sweetheart?” Gojo’s voice cut through your thoughts, his tone light, almost amused. He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the tension in your expression. You forced yourself to take a breath, to unclench your jaw, to smooth out the lines that had formed between your brows. “Just admiring the decor,” you said, the words laced with sarcasm you didn’t bother to hide.

Gojo chuckled, his smile widening, though there was something darker behind it—something that said he knew exactly what you were thinking. “It is something, isn’t it?” he said, his voice carrying a note of mock appreciation. “All this opulence, all this grandeur. Makes you wonder what it’s all really for.” You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you approached the grand hall’s entrance. The double doors stood tall and imposing, the gold accents shimmering in the light. You could hear the laughter more clearly now, the sounds of people enjoying themselves, unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of the suffering outside these walls.

Gojo’s hand brushed against your arm, a light touch meant to guide you, but it felt more like a reminder of who was in control. You looked up at him, his smirk still in place, and for a moment, you thought you saw something else in his eyes—something almost like understanding. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same infuriating confidence.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softening, though the challenge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was true. You weren’t ready. You would never be ready for this—this charade, this lie you had to live. But you didn’t have a choice. Not if you wanted to survive. Not if you wanted to help those who still believed in something better.

Gojo pushed the doors open, the warm light spilling out into the corridor, washing over you in a wave of heat. The laughter grew louder, the voices merging into a cacophony that made your head spin. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, forcing a smile that you knew didn’t reach your eyes. The grand hall welcomed you, the faces turning to look, the smiles widening, the laughter continuing.

The guests were exactly as you’d imagined them—men and women draped in finery, their laughter too loud, their smiles too wide. They sipped from crystal glasses filled with deep red wine, their conversations laced with arrogance and self-satisfaction. These were the people who thrived in this new world, who had taken everything and given nothing back. They were comfortable, complacent, and utterly oblivious to the blood that had paved their way here. Gojo slowed his pace as a man approached, his uniform adorned with medals that gleamed under the chandelier’s light. He greeted Gojo with a firm handshake, his voice booming as he praised the successes of the Republic.

“Satoru,” the man said, his smile wide. “Always a pleasure to see you. And this must be your guest for the evening?”

Gojo turned to you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. The touch was subtle but firm, grounding you as much as it was a signal to stay in place. “Indeed,” he said smoothly, his tone light. “Allow me to introduce our new addition to the fold. She’s adjusting well.”

The man’s eyes swept over you, his gaze lingering a moment too long. You fought the urge to look away, forcing a polite smile that felt like a mask. “Welcome,” he said, his tone patronizing. “It’s good to see another face embracing the future we’ve built.”

You nodded, the bile rising in your throat. “Thank you,” you said, the words hollow but necessary.

He turned back to Gojo, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “These newcomers don’t know how fortunate they are, do they? To be part of a new era, to witness the rise of true order. The Republic of Shōkan has brought us to heights we could only dream of before.” He gestured broadly, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Look at what we’ve accomplished! Peace, unity. The weak have been weeded out, and now only the strong remain. It’s survival of the fittest, the way it was always meant to be.”

You swallowed hard, the words twisting like a knife in your gut. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him of the cost of their so-called peace—the blood, the suffering, the lives they had destroyed for their vision of power. But instead, you forced your lips to remain in that tight, polite smile, your gaze drifting to the floor as your nails dug into your palm

Gojo must have noticed the tension in your posture, because his grip on your back tightened just a fraction, his voice cutting in smoothly. “Minister Tanaka always knows how to put things into perspective,” he said, his tone lightly mocking, though it seemed to go unnoticed by the older man.

Tanaka beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s true! And we’re just getting started. Once Japan is fully secured, we can begin expanding our influence even further. Imagine—a world united under the Republic’s vision!” He looked at you then, his smile widening. “You’re young. You’ll get to see it all—this world we’re building. The Republic will shape the future, and you should feel honored to be part of it.”

“Of course,” you said, the words like ash on your tongue. “It’s… an honor.”

Tanaka clapped a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, his laughter echoing through the grand hall. “You’ve got her well-trained, Gojo! It’s good to see the young ones understanding their place.” He gave you one last, lingering look before turning away, disappearing into the crowd, his laughter still ringing in your ears.

You exhaled slowly, your chest tight, the smile slipping from your face as you turned to Gojo. His eyes were already on you, his expression unreadable, though his grip on you loosened slightly. “Good job,” he murmured, his voice so low only you could hear. “You played your part well.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you tried to steady your breathing.

Gojo’s hand slipped to your arm, his voice softening just slightly, almost as if he could sense your thoughts. “Not everyone here deserves your hatred, you know,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. “Some of them are just… doing what they think they need to do to survive.”

You looked at him, your eyes narrowing. “And what about you?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Are you just trying to survive, too?”

He paused, his smile fading just slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost like regret. But then he looked away, his smile returning, though it was colder now.

“Who knows?” he said, his tone dismissive. “Maybe I’m just here for the entertainment.”

—

The dinner stretched on, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last. Courses came and went, accompanied by wine that seemed to flow endlessly, dulling the edges of conversations that were sharper than they appeared. You picked at your plate, forcing yourself to eat just enough to avoid drawing attention, your senses heightened by the oppressive air of the room.

Gojo remained at your side, his presence an infuriating mix of comfort and threat. He engaged easily with the other guests, his words charming, his smile disarming. Yet, even as he bantered and laughed, you could feel his attention on you, like a predator keeping one eye on its prey. The sound of a fork gently tapping against a glass silenced the room, the hum of conversation dissipating in an instant. All eyes turned to Gojo, who rose from his seat, his smile as dazzling as the chandeliers overhead. The air shifted, the room’s energy focusing entirely on him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice smooth, carrying just enough weight to command the room. “It seems our esteemed host, Suguru Geto, has been called away on urgent business. A pity, really—he was quite looking forward to this evening.”

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Gojo raised a hand, his smile widening. “But fear not,” he continued, his tone light, almost playful. “I’ve been asked to step in and say a few words. And I think we all know I’m never one to pass up an opportunity to talk.” Laughter filled the room, the sound grating against your nerves as Gojo lifted his glass, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"We have come far, haven’t we? From the chaos of rebellion to the unity of true order. And it’s all thanks to the hard work, the dedication, and the loyalty of everyone in this room."

The guests murmured their agreement, a few lifting their glasses in response. Satoru’s eyes flicked to you then, his smile widening. "And speaking of dedication, I’d also like to introduce a very special guest tonight. Someone who has recently joined us, and who will, I’m sure, play a very important role in the Republic’s future." Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as every eye in the room turned to you. You forced yourself to keep your expression calm, a polite smile on your lips as Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip light but firm.

"This," he said, his voice carrying with an easy authority, "is our newest addition. A woman who, despite the circumstances of her arrival, has proven herself to be resilient, adaptable, and willing to work toward a brighter future for all of us." He paused, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment, a flicker of something dark passing behind them. "We are very lucky to have her." The applause that followed felt hollow, the smiles around you empty and false. You kept your own smile in place, your hands folded neatly in your lap, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

“And,” he added, his tone shifting slightly, “let’s not forget the people who make all of this possible. People like my good friend, Kento Nanami, whose tireless dedication to the Republic ensures that even our most ambitious plans run smoothly.”

Your stomach dropped.

The name hit you like a slap, your breath catching as you tried to process what you had just heard. Kento Nanami. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was the name Yui had whispered to you, the person the rebellion had sent to this dinner. Your head spun as you tried to reconcile the quiet rebel spy with the man Satoru spoke of so casually, so confidently, as though Kento’s loyalty to the Republic was unquestionable.

Gojo continued, oblivious to your internal turmoil. “Kento is one of the most reliable people I know,” he said, lifting his glass again. “And I’m sure we can all agree that this world would be a lot messier without his steady hand guiding the way.” The room chuckled again, and you forced yourself to join in, your laugh hollow and strained. You glanced around the table, your eyes searching for Kento, and there he was—seated several places down, his face carefully neutral, his posture relaxed. He lifted his glass in a polite nod of acknowledgment, his expression giving nothing away.

You stared at him, your mind racing. Kento Nanami. He’s the spy. He has whatever the rebellion needs. But how were you supposed to get it from him? And what could it be? Yui had been vague, leaving you to piece together what you could from the fragments of information you’d been given. You didn’t know how, but you had to find a way to get close to him, to make the exchange without drawing attention. Gojo’s presence complicated things, his every word and movement a reminder of the fine line you were walking.

The grand hall began to empty, the hum of conversation shifting as guests drifted toward other rooms or the estate gardens. You watched carefully, waiting for the right moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Kento Nanami remained at the far end of the table, speaking quietly to a pair of men whose uniforms marked them as officers. He looked composed, unhurried, but you could see the subtle tension in his posture—the way his shoulders stayed just a little too straight, his gaze lingering on the men’s faces as though measuring each word.

Gojo was distracted, caught in a conversation with an official who gestured animatedly as he spoke. You took your chance, slipping toward the edges of the room, weaving through the clusters of guests with a practiced air of nonchalance. Your breath came shallow as you approached Kento, every nerve on edge. He noticed you before you reached him, his sharp eyes meeting yours briefly. He gave no outward reaction, but his subtle shift in stance seemed almost like permission. The officers he’d been speaking to stepped away, leaving him momentarily alone near the farthest edge of the hall.

You stepped closer, keeping your movements casual, careful not to attract attention. When you were close enough, you spoke softly, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “Kento Nanami.”

His expression didn’t change, but his gaze flicked to you, sharp and assessing. “I wasn’t aware we were on a first-name basis,” he said quietly, his voice calm, measured.

“I think we can dispense with formalities,” you replied, forcing an edge of calm into your own voice despite the way your heart was racing. “You know why I’m here.”

For the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or calculation. He glanced around the room, his movements slow, deliberate, before returning his gaze to yours. “Do I?”

“Yui sent me,” you whispered. The name hung in the air between you like a test.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze narrowing slightly. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Reckless,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I told her not to involve anyone else.”

“Then you’ll understand that I don’t have much time,” you said, your voice firm but hushed. “Whatever it is you’re carrying, I need it.”

His eyes swept over you again, his expression unreadable. “And what makes you think you can handle it?” he asked, his tone cool. “This isn’t some message to pass along. What I have… it could change everything, but it’s useless in the wrong hands.”

Your chest tightened at his words. “I’m not here because I want to be,” you said, keeping your voice low but steady. “I’m here because I have to be. If you want to get this out of here, you’re going to need my help. They already watch me. No one will suspect I’m moving anything.” For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as though weighing your every word, every breath. The room around you felt unbearably loud, the laughter and conversation like a mask hiding the precariousness of this moment.

Finally, he exhaled, a quiet sigh that carried the weight of resignation. “What Yui said about you… I hope she’s right.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket, his movements smooth, unhurried. When he withdrew his hand, it was clenched around a small, metallic object.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before slipping the object into your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. “A flash drive,” he murmured. “Encrypted. Inside are documents—locations, plans, names.”

Your grip tightened around the drive, your mind racing. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed.

“Keep it safe until you can move it,” he said, his tone clipped. “Don’t let anyone near it. And don’t trust anyone—not even the people who claim to be on your side.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut you off. Your heart leapt into your throat as Gojo’s voice carried through the room, light and teasing.

“Nanami! Still lingering, are we?”

Kento’s expression didn’t falter, his demeanor as calm and collected as ever. “Just finishing a conversation,” he replied smoothly, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Gojo.

Gojo’s eyes slid to you, his smirk widening. “And what are you two chatting about? It must be fascinating if it’s keeping Nanami from his usual brooding.” He then shifted to face Nanami, giving you just enough time to slip the flash drive into the chest covering part of your dress, pretending that you were adjusting the fabric. It was so smooth that you would’ve thought you had been a spy in your past life.

“Just getting to know each other,” Nanami said lightly. “It seems we’ll be seeing a lot of the same faces moving forward.”

Gojo chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than was comfortable. “Well, don’t let Nanami bore you too much,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “He’s not exactly the life of the party.”

Kento gave a faint nod, stepping back slightly. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, his tone polite but detached. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with Gojo. Your pulse hammered in your ears as you forced yourself to stand still, to stay calm, even as you felt the weight of the flash drive hidden against your skin.

As you walked toward the grand doors with Gojo beside you, the evening’s events swirled in your mind. The weight of the flash drive hidden against your skin pressed heavily with every step, the enormity of its contents threatening to overwhelm you. You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep your breathing steady, though your heart was still pounding in your ears.

The corridor leading out of the grand hall was crowded with officers and guests, their conversations blending into a low hum as they slowly dispersed. You maneuvered through the throng, your heels clicking against the polished marble, Gojo’s casual gait beside you a stark contrast to your careful steps.

But then, in a moment of distraction, your foot landed squarely on someone else’s.

The man, an officer, his uniform immaculate and adorned with medals, let out a sharp hiss of pain, his head whipping around to glare at you. His face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot, the scent of wine lingering in the air around him. “You little —” he growled, and before you could apologize or step back, his hand swung out.

The slap was fast, hard, and merciless. It struck you across the cheek with enough force to send you stumbling, your heels skidding against the smooth floor. You hit the ground, the cold marble biting against your palms and knees as pain blossomed across your face, hot and stinging. “Watch where you’re going,” the officer snapped, his voice sharp and filled with venom. “And remember your place. You’re here by their mercy, not because you belong.” The words cut deeper than the slap, but you refused to let him see the hurt. You clenched your teeth, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. You wanted to scream at him, to lash out, but you knew better. You knew that any defiance would only make things worse. You gritted your teeth, your head spinning as you struggled to push yourself up, the sting in your cheek radiating with every movement.

The room had gone quiet, the low hum of conversation silenced as all eyes turned toward the commotion. You could feel their stares, their judgment, the weight of their disdain pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

But then, before you could fully rise, a shadow loomed over you.

Satoru Gojo.

He stepped between you and the officer, his expression shifting in an instant from lazy amusement to something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous. His hand reached out, and for a moment, you thought he was going to help you up. Instead, he grabbed the officer by the front of his uniform, his grip deceptively casual as he pulled the man close. “I’m sorry,” Gojo said, his tone light but dripping with malice. “I must have missed the part where you thought it was acceptable to lay a hand on her.”

The officer swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “My apologies, sir,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Gojo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand to you, his gaze meeting yours. There was something in his eyes—something cold, calculated, but also… protective. It made your stomach twist, your emotions tangling in confusion.

You hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. His grip was strong, and he pulled you to your feet effortlessly. You winced as you stood, the side of your face still throbbing from the impact, but you forced yourself to stand tall, refusing to let your fear or pain show. Gojo’s attention shifted back to the officer, his smile returning, though it was more of a smirk—dangerous and mocking. “You should go,” he said, his voice almost bored. “Before I decide you need a reminder of your place.”

The officer nodded quickly, stepping back, his eyes avoiding yours as he turned and hurried away. The guests who had witnessed the scene began to disperse, their murmurs filling the silence as they quickly turned their attention elsewhere, as though eager to pretend nothing had happened.

Gojo’s hand lingered on your arm, his touch just light enough to seem casual, but firm enough to keep you steady. He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “They forget sometimes,” he said, his gaze drifting to where the officer had disappeared. “That some people are… off-limits.”

You forced a smile, nodding. “I’ll be more careful.”

He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on your face, on the mark that was already forming where you’d been struck. And then, as if deciding that the moment had passed, he turned, gesturing for you to follow.

“Come on,” he said, his tone casual once more. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

—

Back in your room, you were quick to rid yourself of the dress. Your cheek throbbed where the officer’s hand had struck, the sting radiating through your jaw and down your neck. You moved to the small washbasin near the corner, splashing cold water on your face and watching as it dripped into the porcelain below.

The bruise was already beginning to form, faint but unmistakable, a reminder of your place in this fractured world. You stared at your reflection in the rising water for a long moment, the events of the evening swirling in your mind—the tension at the dinner, Kento’s warning, the weight of the flash drive hidden beneath a floorboard near the bed that you had found a few days ago when you were reading your file.

You changed into the simple clothes that had been left for you—a soft cotton shirt and loose pants—before sinking down onto the edge of the bed. The silence of your room felt heavy, pressing down on you as you tried to process everything that had happened, everything that was yet to come. You let out a slow breath, your body aching, your mind spinning with thoughts of the rebellion and what might come next. But your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, replaying the events of the dinner, the officer’s strike, the way Gojo had looked at you—cold, calculating, but almost… protective. It made no sense. Nothing about him made sense.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat, fear and adrenaline rushing through you as you sat up. Before you could respond, the door opened, and Satoru Gojo stepped inside.

He moved with the same easy grace he always had, his gaze finding yours immediately. His expression was softer now, his eyes lacking the usual sharpness that made you feel like he was peeling away your layers. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you, his mouth set in a line that was neither a smile nor a frown.

“You’re supposed to knock,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your words carrying more exhaustion than actual reprimand.

He chuckled softly, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the room. “I did knock,” he said, his tone light. “You just didn’t answer.” He approached slowly, his gaze flickering to your cheek. He winced slightly, his smile fading as he took in the dark bruise that marred your skin. He moved closer, standing at the edge of your bed, his voice lowering. “Let me see.” You hesitated, your breath catching in your throat, but you nodded, turning your head slightly to give him a better view. He knelt beside the bed, his eyes narrowing as he studied the bruise, his expression softening in a way you weren’t used to.

“That bastard really got you, didn’t he?” he murmured, his fingers hovering near your cheek but not quite touching. There was something in his voice—something that almost sounded like regret.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “It’s not the worst thing that’s happened,” you said quietly.

Gojo’s gaze flicked up to yours, and for a moment, you saw something behind his eyes, something vulnerable, something almost kind. It was disarming, this glimpse of him that didn’t match the man you knew, the man who had been your captor, your tormentor.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

The words hung between you, and you found yourself wanting to believe him, wanting to see the sincerity in his eyes as real, as something that you could trust. For a brief, dangerous moment, you thought about the flash drive hidden beneath the floorboards. You thought about telling him — about sharing the weight of what you carried, about letting him in, trusting that maybe he would help you.

Your lips parted, your heart pounding, but then you remembered.

Don’t trust anyone. Yui’s words echoed in your mind, a stark reminder of the reality you lived in. The people in this place, Gojo included, played their own games, had their own agendas. Gojo was powerful, dangerous, and whatever kindness he showed you, it was only a part of the larger web of manipulation and control that bound you to this place.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly, pushing the thought away. You couldn’t afford to trust him. Not now. Not ever.

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice steady, the mask slipping back into place. “I’ll be fine.”

Gojo studied you for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours as if he could see the thoughts you were hiding, the things you weren’t saying. Then, slowly, he nodded, his gaze softening. He lingered for a moment, as if there was something else he wanted to say, but then he turned, moving toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, glancing back at you, his gaze lingering for just a beat too long before he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, and you were alone again. The silence settled around you, the tension in your chest slowly easing as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed your hand to the floorboards, feeling the weight of the flash drive beneath it, the dangerous secret that could change everything.

—

The quiet crackle of the fire was the first thing you noticed when you stirred in the middle of the night. The room, bathed in a soft, flickering orange glow, felt warmer than it had before. You sat up slowly, your mind foggy with sleep, and saw Hana crouched by the fireplace, her back to you. She was stoking the flames, her movements efficient and quiet, as though she didn’t want to disturb you. You watched her for a moment, your heart slowing as you took in the scene. Snow was falling outside, visible through the frosted edges of the tall window. The flakes drifted lazily, blanketing the estate grounds in a pale, cold stillness. It was almost beautiful, in a way that made your chest ache.

Hana didn’t speak as she adjusted the fire, and when she was satisfied with her work, she stood, brushing the soot from her hands. She glanced at you briefly, her expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room without a word. The door clicked softly shut behind her, and you were alone again.

You stared at the fire, its warmth reaching out toward you, chasing away the lingering chill in the room. The flames danced and flickered, alive and untamed, and something about them drew you in. You slipped out of bed, your bare feet making no sound as you moved toward the fireplace.

Your file sat on the nearby table, where you’d left it earlier. The neat stack of papers, bound together so methodically, was a record of everything you used to be. Every accomplishment, every failure, every detail of the person you had been before this nightmare began. It had been given to you like a weapon, a reminder of the life that had been stripped from you and the role you were now expected to play. You picked it up, your fingers brushing over the cover.

The fire crackled again, louder this time, and you looked at it, the flames reflecting in your eyes. Slowly, you moved closer, the file clutched tightly in your hands. You knelt by the fire, staring at the flames as they danced, alive and hungry. You opened the file, flipping through the pages one last time. The words blurred together, meaningless now, each line a ghost of a life you no longer recognized.

With trembling hands, you fed the first page into the fire. The flames caught it instantly, devouring it with a hiss, and you watched as the paper curled and blackened, the words disappearing into ash. One by one, you fed the pages to the fire, each one a small act of defiance, a quiet rebellion against the weight of the past.

When the last page was gone, you sat back, your hands empty, your chest heaving with the weight of what you’d done. The fire burned brighter now, the warmth spreading through the room, and you felt… lighter. Freer.

The snow continued to fall outside, the world beyond your window blanketed in white. You stared into the flames, the heat warming your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself breathe. You weren’t the person in that file anymore. You didn’t know who you were, not yet. But you knew one thing for certain: You were still alive. And as long as you were alive, you still had the power to change things.

The woman in that file was dead.

You were what remains.

#satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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olligane · 10 months ago

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Jack the Terrible and His Daughter, Angel.

hello borderlands fandom- i've been here for maybe 11 years now? idk the last time i was an active member of the fandom i was living in the hell that was amino. today i give you a post that i totally stole the idea for from tumblr user @thedudeandjackfamily.

#borderlands #handsome jack #angel borderlands #borderlands 2 #bl2 #art #digital art #fanart #something something i won't give my scathing character analysis here #but i'm vaguely obsessed with how fucked up and awful jack is but will never go to bat for him #angel deserves the man who so clearly wanted to be her father before she became a siren. not a monster #also if anyone can find good references of angels tattoo FUCKING TAG ME #literally never expect me to draw her tats the same ever again.

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lightofjedi · 2 years ago

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There's many things in SW fanfics I don't vibe with (and, like a normal person, just scroll down and mind my business) but Obi-Wan being often portrayed as this barely-holding-on, always-on-verge-of-collapsing, 24/7-sad-pitiful-repressed kinda guy really takes the cake for me seeing as I've always regarded him as being a very centered, confident, open and well-humored guy pretty much anytime he's not dealing with his murdered/turned-evil loved ones or losing absolutely everything and everyone he loved.

#this is not a post trying to shame or criticize anyone!#people can write whatever they want #i'm just voicing my thoughts here #it's very common for me to see people refer to him (both in and out of fanfic) as an overly sad overly distressed easily broken guy #and i just find it curious since i never got that perspective while watching him in the movies and tcw #i've seen luke being portrayed in a similar light and i also don't vibe with it lol #just my thoughts #obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker

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bambeebirdie · 1 year ago

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This is for @bluepeachstudios ‘s Ghost in a Shell. It’s really good you should read it.

I looked at exactly one picture of Jupiter Jim and went “yeah this should be enough to draw him.” I will not be answering if it actually was

Have some bonus content under the cut!

And sketches

(I love any character who can say “I don’t want to go back to prison” it’s like the funniest thing to me)

#i don’t know what compelled me to hand write that text. it’s not very good #we just don’t do things the easy way here. that’s why I render with an app on my phone. i don’t believe in simplicity #i had a plan for a lot more full body shots but then I couldn’t find any good lair references so I decided to screw it #I’ve never drawn rise characters before. this is my first time drawing them and expressions wow #I’m not very good at style copying and my default is so much rounder than rise is so that was just a woof #i should say all text in these shit posts aren’t canon at all. you can figure out where they likely take place yes #but they never show up in story #just a little fyi incase anyone decides to check it out #the entire inspiration for this post was just watching 2003 and going #WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY DID THAT??#ghost causally dropping the most wild facts about his life has like endless shit post potential #yeah I went to space. stole a ship. went to jail. aided a fugitive. held a dictator at gunpoint #and folks that’s just one arc. go watch 2003 #i debated making angst as it is likely more currently topical but I’m a shit poster at heart #chapter 29. how we feeling boys? I’m actually doing rather well. i think just the fact the build up is over and I’m so tired I no longer #have emtions I’m just pumped for the next chapter whoo!#i started to lose mojo very fast while doing this but I wanted to finish today so I did. i hope it’s not too obvious #yeah anyways go read ghost in a shell #go watch 2003 #go read ghost in a shell #i’m gonna go to bed now #ghost in the shell #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2018 #fan fiction recommendations #fan art of a fan fic #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003

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batsplat · 1 month ago

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I don’t know if this is a crossover that makes sense but I saw that you like doctor who and MotoGP which are two things I enjoy a lot so if you had to a-sign Valentino, Marc, Casey, Jorge, and Dani as a doctor which doctor would each of them be (the one most like them) and would there be crossovers for who’s who.

ontologically fascinating ask in that the premise supposes all the aliens are essentially variations upon the same guy. and given I do indeed am a known doctor who enjoyer, I will absolutely have a crack at this. obviously some of the aliens will inevitably have more of a doctor-ish vibe than others, which made some of these trickier than others. but this kind of exercise is fun in that it forces you to think of like... the key, non-negotiable character traits you associate with each guy. so here goes

dani: struggled most with this one. I initially thought maybe third doctor - some kind of homage to the samurai styling and three's martial arts thing. idk I could picture dani dropkicking an alien. (literal, not motogp alien... although maybe?) though mainly this pick is about the UNIT team environment. you've got this loner vibe, right, paired with this sense of superiority over some of those you're working with: maybe you've been exiled to earth and have to spend time with a bunch of humans or maybe you have to share a garage with a teammate when you'd really rather not. it's about capturing the energy of early premier class dani who flirts with the line between being kinda shy and awkward versus being a bit of an arrogant prick. the contemptuous vibe the doctor brings to the table... he knows how good he is! boy wonder dani surrounded by people convinced he's going to be the next big thing. a lot of the time three just wants to be left alone to do his work... three's the most grounded doctor (no pun intended) and between the pragmatism and the haughtiness, there is an appeal to this pick

but a different alien is more suited to the third doctor in terms of actual personality, so... for dani, we'll keep the trappings of three, but maybe in terms of actual personality veer a tad closer to nine. very much a big-hearted incarnation of the doctor despite having been thoroughly beaten down by the universe. regret, frustration, a reckoning of sorts with his own ineffectuality... nine's arc of coming to terms with his failure to save others, versus dani's arc of coming to terms with not achieving what people expected him to. nine is a transitional doctor, one who's all about finding himself in the aftermath of loss + tragedy - it's a journey that's very much about finding some measure of peace. reckoning with how painful and unfair the world can be, finding meaning within it anyway. nine's also committed to his worldview, his sense of morality... he's rigid at times, inflexible - though he's sometimes successfully challenged to reassess his beliefs. embraces a little more nuance by the end of his tenure while still never wavering from certain core values... the world might reward cruelty, might be unfair, but nine can choose to fight anyway. commitment to the struggle, even if it's ultimately futile! I'm still not wholly convinced by how good a fit this is because nine's outwardly manic persona is key to his characterisation, but. well. maybe you'd go three's life circumstances with nine's soul (?) with one's gruff exterior. having to make a choice, I'd go nine

jorge: this one's a straight contest between two doctors for me. my first thought was six - you know, the one with the whacky clothes. on a meta level, there is something to how the doctor who showrunners really ramped up the quirkiness to the max with this version of the doctor without figuring out why that had worked with past incarnations. one of my fave things about jorge is that whole process he had to try to figure out his 'character', attempting to construct a persona in this deliberate, self-serious way with constant reference to valentino, reflecting upon everything he did to the point of omphaloskepsis. and six at the start of his tenure was also a bit of an... unfinished product, rough around the edges - just too abrasive a personality to work in this particular show. also one of the most outwardly arrogant incarnations! six is always A Lot, with this flamboyance and passion that just suits theatre-kid-at-heart jorge. and six does calm down, stops trying to be so edgy... idk, to me just a little reminiscent of jorge's evolution. stopped trying to come up with a 'character' that rivals valentino's - which does work rather nicely as a meta-textual parallel with that particular era of doctor who. six might have been stubborn, poorly socialised, sometimes a handful to deal with... but also someone who softened some of the rough edges. it's taken some time, but he's won a lot of fans over. eventually

all that being said, I'm leaning towards the other option here - and bring back three, a better fit for jorge than he is for dani. a lot of the stuff about the working environment applies here too, of course... like, you've got an alien who's being made to work a nine to five job surrounded by actual human beings; the interpersonal interactions tend to be a bit hit-and-miss. three's self-seriousness, his pompousness really work here... his tendency to pontificate, I see the vision for jorge. and - let's not forget - three's run was very much defined by his relationship with the master, who got to actually be a very regular antagonist in that era. that particular dynamic has taken some radically different forms over the years... but the third doctor, for all of his antagonism with the master, brought a certain 'only bitch in this house I respect' vibe to the table. jorge would get obsessed with his old academic rival who keeps showing up to bother him/commit mass murder. after the master's first appearance/mass murder spree, the doctor can barely contain his enthusiasm at the thought of fighting the master again soon. that's jorge, if he were a time travelling alien. going three

casey: right, casey's getting the old soul treatment. the first doctor fits that brief and is also the most irascible incarnation, back in the earliest days of the character when they just wrote him as kinda a dick for a while. do I think casey would abduct two school teachers just because they poked around where they wren't supposed to and pissed him off? well, yes. that sounds like a casey thing to do. the first doctor is stubborn, moody, frequently dismissive of those who aren't as brilliant as him. doesn't trust easily. blunt, pragmatic, sceptical of authority. a bit of a loner. and given he's the first incarnation, he's also the version going through the most culture shock!! not always easy, is it, when you're constantly surrounded by all these [humans/europeans] who baffle you. the first doctor did get to mature a bit, got to have some fun and lean into his natural inclination towards mischief... a piece of work whose heart is mostly in the right place, even if he doesn't always show it particularly well

another option for casey is twelve, another a pick that does kinda work on a meta level. twelve follows on from some massively popular incarnations, keeps dropping all-timer performances that don't always get the appreciation they deserve from the casual fan. the real ones know how goated he is. twelve starts out REALLY surly, not exactly the most outwardly empathetic doctor - let's just say his bedside manner could use a little bit of tweaking. at the same time, twelve's very preoccupied with questions of morality... he has a tendency to be incredibly harsh to those he doesn't feel live up to his standards - ones which at times feel a touch arbitrary, even hypocritical. also very harsh towards himself!! twelve goes in heavy on the self-loathing, pairing an ironclad confidence in his own abilities with plenty of doubts and insecurities. casey's all about confidence - both in the positive sense that he's got a lot of it and knows he can always rely on his obscene levels of talent, but also in the negative sense that he's constantly terrified of letting everyone else down and can have his self-belief shaken under the right circumstances. possibly setting off a streak of crashes. twelve's another quite rigid sort at the start of his tenure, very capable of lashing out at anything in range, though he does chill out a bit. and he's a very kind version of the doctor, principled, got a dry sense of humour... one of the more misunderstood incarnations and still somewhat underappreciated. this is already a good fit to me! but I'd also throw in a wild card tenth doctor in there, for that tendency to think he's always in the right and a reluctance to admit to certain shortcomings - he's just a little less reflective and honest with himself than twelve. a Proper Grudge Holder who went to the resent and remember class of conflict non-resolution. his rather remarkable capacity for self-delusion doesn't hurt with the parallels either. ten's admittedly a bit too happy-go-lucky for casey's whole deal... primarily I'd still say twelve

marc: went the other way from casey with this one and considered the doctors with younger appearances. five would be an interesting pick - an incarnation that really embraced having a young face, who felt like some of his previous incarnations had been trying way too hard to appear old and mature. there's a vibrancy and charm to five that suits marc I feel, cheerful and a tad naive (to the point of being somewhat childish) and wanting to really engage with the universe... he wants to live life to the fullest, wants to have fun out there, rejects cynicism. and for his troubles, five absolutely gets put through the wringer. this is a man acquainted with TRAUMA. full time companions really don't die very often in this show, but one of the defining fifth doctor stories features just that. as he continues getting blows dealt by the universe, he becomes more guarded, wearier, cautious of trusting others. but also... idk, five is a bit too spineless I reckon, lets himself pushed around too much, is too easy to manipulate and too docile in the face of authority - that's not marc

my actual pick is eleven (for meta-narrative points, he follows the incarnation who is seen by many as the archetypal doctor). marc's got this interesting career arc where - because of the age profiles of his competitors and the gap left by the injury years - he's gone from always being the baby to being the old man... with seemingly little time spent in between. eleven's very much all about being an old soul in a young body and is one of the incarnations that best manages to capture that energy - for all the outward exuberance, the mania, this is someone who has seen a lot and hurt a lot and carries that burden with him. eleven has a steeliness to him that works for marc, a cheerful facade that covers a real ruthlessness. a lot of emphasis during eleven's tenure is placed on how much the doctor lies, just constantly deceiving and playing his games and... well! marc! with eleven you do lean into the secrecy and mystique of it all - he's just quite a slippery guy where he does obviously care, where there's a select group of people he loves with all his heart, but he's also plenty capricious and arrogant and is willing to withhold vital information if he thinks he knows best. all about the contrast between the cheery exterior and darker, cunning interior. very marc. eleven

valentino: tough. tough! you can legitimately go at least 4-5 different directions here. a lot of the marc + eleven stuff applies here, though marc fits eleven's coldness a little better I reckon. you can copy and paste everything I said about ten in the casey section here too - they're all traits valentino and casey are aligned on, maybe go even more all in on ten's hubris for valentino. ten's outward demeanour does suit valentino better than casey, with the charm and the cheeriness and the manic energy and all that. and meta-narratively it doesn't hurt how crazy popular ten is, to the point where plenty of the more contrarian fans think he's overrated. he also just keeps coming back... refuses to fade into irrelevance! fans aren't allowed to forget about this bloke, however they feel about him. still, ten's not got quite enough of an edge, doesn't have the self-awareness he needs to lean into some of his nastier traits. another good shout is the second doctor, who kinda revolutionises the game by introducing the concept of regeneration into lore - and is also softer, gentler than his previous incarnation, a bit more capable of communicating with others and performing empathy and all that stuff. and is playful!! might pretend to be the fool to catch others off guard, but is constantly plotting and scheming and has a tendency to be more control of the situation than anyone thinks. it's that element of trickery and mischief that makes me like two as a pick... though, idk, I reckon he's a bit too nice to quite work

on the other end of the spectrum is seven, who was my initial impulse actually. seven is the manipulator, the doctor most willing to coldly maneuver enemies and allies alike to suit his purposes, very secretive... this is the real arsehole doctor. which, y'know, does suit valentino. plus, he's got this paternalistic energy, especially towards his companion ace - this is an era where the doctor/companion relationship is most oriented around the doctor being a teacher. where the seven pick falls apart for me is that there's a real contrast between his early playful personality and then his later manipulative, darker turn. these two sides of him feel in opposition to each other in a way that feels distinctly un-valentino, like with him it's all part of the same package y'know. seven is also a bit too cold and detached... valentino is more emotional, more passionate than that. and seven is a bit too obviously manipulative, that's the number one thing he's known for - you need someone more charismatic and popular than that I reckon. which brings us to four, the most popular incarnation of the character from the classic era who also got some of the highest quality writing, continues to be iconic however much time passes. four is this bohemian weirdo, eccentric but also charming... like the second doctor, he tries to catch others off guard, and he's big on joking around to do just that. he's also moody, at times mercurial, capricious... harsher than he initially seems, with quite a temper. he's also a bit too dispassionate to 100% fit valentino, but still the closest option - so four

in conclusion: loved answering this ask, really made me think lol. I did try to come up with a unique pick for each rather than honing in on the crossovers - though there's still a few doctors I've mentioned for multiple aliens. and also a few more I could probably make a case for, like seven and jorge or twelve and valentino or nine and casey... but you have to cut yourself off somewhere. this did made me realise the key similarity between the doctor as a character and the aliens as a group is the massive ego - partially justified by actual brilliance but still insufferable. I mean, there's also some crucial differences, like how the doctor is a selfless hero who goes around saving planets while the aliens are egocentric tax evasion-inclined athletes who mainly just care about winning motorcycle races. but apart from that, there's a decent amount of common ground yeah

#real talk marc brings a clara oswald energy to the table some viewers may find perturbing #“what would you do?” <same as you> “yes. yes of course you would. which let's be honest is what killed you”#“the friend inside the enemy. the enemy inside the friend. everyone's a bit of both. everyone's a hybrid” writes itself idk #the doctor calling clara an “egomaniac needy game-player” but clara thinking he was referring to himself. anyone? anyone? is this thing on #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #alien tag #spec tag #you can tell i'm not a proper nerd because i have no real opinion on eight. stay safe big finish truthers #he does also just seem a bit too. nice. for our purposes here

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