#just watched a little video on bad decisions that actually turn out well

[invinciblerodent]

From now on, I'm just going to assume that anyone who calls Gale any variation of "pompous", "arrogant", "annoying", "a jerk", or anything to that effect, and talks at length about how they hate him and/or have killed him, is just bellyaching and being a baby over them not understanding his speech. That's right, at this point I'm ascribing a literal skill issue to being wrong about a fictional character.

Aww, poor baby, did the Mean Wizard hurt your tiny, smooth widdle brain by saying "adroit"? Did his correct use of "foeti", the latinate plural of "foetus", frighten you? Aww, I'm so sowwy. That must be so tough for you, being so scared of fun words and the general concept of whimsy. I can't hear you over myself tongue-kissing the pretty man with the calf-eyes and the slutty waist.

[strwbyoons]

can we heave jealous!dumb baby kook, pleasepleasepleaseee??

STARRING ... J. JUNGKOOK X BIMBO!READER

A/N ... thinking about them... i acually love them so bad T^T. first request done!!

NOTES/WARNINGS ... smut (18+/MDNI), possessive!kook, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex, jealous!kook. if i forgot anything let me know.

WORD COUNT ... 3.7k

...

days off with jungkook were your favorite. days when he didn’t have to rush off to work, didn’t have to wake up early, didn’t have to do anything but spend time with you.

so you cling to his arm, fingers wrapped around his bicep, soft giggles spilling past your lips as the two of you wander through the busy streets. your head rests against his shoulder as you talk—about your nails (you just got them done, all pink and sparkly), about a video you saw last night, about how you think pigeons are kinda cute, actually.

"like, they’re just little guys," you ramble, lips pursed in thought. "people are so mean to them, but they just mind their business."

jungkook hums, amused. "thought you hated pigeons, baby."

"nooo," you whine, squeezing his arm. "i said i don’t like when they fly at me. ‘s different."

he just nods like it makes perfect sense, because to him, it kinda does. and you keep talking, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you spot something in a store window, dragging him over without letting go of his arm.

“ooh, koo, look! isn’t it cute?" you point excitedly at a tiny plush keychain, eyes big and sparkly as you turn to face him.

he doesn’t even look at the keychain, just looks at you, nodding along to whatever you say, because he likes the way you light up over the smallest things.

"yeah, baby," he grins, squeezing your hand. "real cute."

so you pull jungkook inside, fingers still curled around his arm, eyes flicking from one thing to the next like you can’t decide what to fawn over first. everything is just so cute, and you’re already holding up different keychains, pressing them against your palm like you’re testing how they’d look hanging off your bag.

“should i get the bunny or the bear?” you ask, lower lip jutted out as you glance up at jungkook.

he pretends to think, tilting his head, but he already knows what he’s gonna say. “bunny,” he grins. “kinda reminds me of you.”

your pout melts into a giggle, cheeks warm as you swat at his arm playfully. “shut up, koo,” you mumble, but you’re already holding onto the bunny keychain like you’ve made up your mind.

you barely notice when a store clerk approaches, but jungkook does. a guy, early twenties maybe, wearing a friendly enough smile, but his eyes linger too long, flicking over you in a way that makes something curl in jungkook’s stomach.

“hey there, need any help finding something?” the clerk asks, voice smooth, gaze settled on you like jungkook isn’t even there.

you shake your head, still bubbly, still bright. “nope! just looking, thank you!”

your politeness is sweet, effortless, and jungkook knows you don’t notice the way the guy’s eyes drop just a little lower before flicking back up to your face.

the clerk nods, but there’s something in the way he smiles, something too warm, too friendly, as he adds, “well, if you do need anything, just let me know. i’ll be around.”

jungkook’s jaw tenses. because that wasn’t just customer service. that was something else.

but you just nod happily, already turning back to the keychains, completely oblivious.

and jungkook just watches, watches the way the guy hesitates before finally walking away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder.

yeah. he saw that.

and he really doesn’t like it.

jungkook doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you as you hum under your breath, still turning the keychain over in your hands like it’s the most important decision of your life.

“what d’you think?” you ask, holding up a second one—a little chick this time. “this one’s cute too.”

but jungkook isn’t looking at the keychains. he’s looking past you, toward the register, where the clerk is pretending to be busy but keeps flicking glances in your direction. and it makes something tighten in his chest, a slow-burning irritation settling in his stomach.

because he knows you don’t notice. knows you don’t realize when people look at you like that, when guys flirt with you in that way that’s too careful, too subtle, banking on your sweetness to keep them from getting shut down.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head a little. “bunny,” he says, finally looking back at you. “definitely the bunny.”

you grin, triumphant. “thought so too.”

you don’t notice the way jungkook’s fingers tighten just slightly around yours when you head to the register. don’t notice the way the clerk perks up when you step forward, his smile a little too eager, his eyes flicking over your face like he’s waiting for something.

“cute choice,” the clerk says as he scans the keychain, and his voice has that same tone, that smooth, easy lilt that’s meant to sound casual but isn’t.

and jungkook notices. oh, does he notice.

but you just nod, oblivious as ever, beaming. “right? my boyfriend picked it!”

the way you say it is so effortless, so sweet, and jungkook smirks when he watches the way the clerk’s expression shifts—just a flicker, but he catches it.

and yeah. that’s right. boyfriend.

jungkook doesn’t say anything, just lets his arm rest around your waist as you take your bag, already tugging him toward the door without a second thought.

and maybe it’s petty, but he throws a glance over his shoulder, meets the clerk’s gaze for just a second before smirking wider, pulling you in closer.

yeah. that’s what he thought.

you’re barely two steps out of the store before jungkook is tugging you back, fingers wrapping around your wrist, spinning you toward him.

“koo—” you start, but your words barely get out before his lips are on yours.

it’s sudden, hot and needy, nothing like the usual soft, teasing kisses he gives you in public. no, this is different. this is desperate. this is his hands gripping your waist, his body pressing close, his lips moving against yours like he’s trying to make a point.

you make a little sound, surprised, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you tilt your head up, letting him kiss you like he needs it, like he’s been waiting too long.

it’s only when you whimper against his lips that he slows down, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to look at you.

“what’s that for?” you blink up at him, lips glossy and parted, cheeks warm from the way he kissed you like he didn’t care who was watching.

he huffs, glancing back at the store for just a second before his eyes are back on you, dark, unreadable. “just felt like it.”

you blink, tilting your head. “feels like you were tryna prove something.”

jungkook clicks his tongue, squeezing your waist. “maybe.”

you giggle, looping your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape. “you’re silly,” you hum, swaying a little. “but i like when you kiss me like that.”

his fingers dig into your waist, jaw clenching slightly. “yeah?”

“mhm.” you bat your lashes, all sweet and playful. “wanna do it again?”

and jungkook groans, running a hand down his face, because you have no idea, no idea what you do to him.

but then you’re pressing up on your toes, brushing your lips against his jaw, and yeah. yeah, maybe you do know.

jungkook exhales, heavy, hands sliding down to grip your hips like he needs to steady himself. you’re looking at him with that innocent, wide-eyed expression, lips still pouty and glossy from his kisses, and he knows if he lets you keep playing like this, he’s gonna lose it.

“let’s go home,” he says, voice low, already tugging you closer.

but you whine, leaning into his chest, fingers still tangled in the back of his hoodie. “but i don’t wanna,” you pout. “s’posed to be a day out, koo. i wanna stay out longer.”

his grip tightens at the way you’re clinging to him, warm and soft, eyes fluttering up at him like you don’t even realize how much you affect him.

“baby,” he warns, shaking his head slightly.

but you’re stubborn, pushing further, pressing up on your toes so your nose brushes his. “just a little longer?”

and jungkook groans, shutting you up the only way he knows how—by kissing you again, firm and decisive, swallowing whatever little protest was about to slip from your lips.

you squeak, hands tightening around his hoodie as his lips move against yours, taking his time, making you forget whatever you were whining about in the first place.

when he finally pulls away, you’re dazed, blinking up at him all slow and hazy, lips parting like you’re struggling to catch your breath.

“still wanna stay out?” jungkook murmurs, thumb rubbing little circles against your hip.

you swallow, eyes flickering between his and his lips. “mm… maybe we should go home.”

his smirk is slow, knowing. “thought so.”

and just like that, he’s pulling you along, arm snug around your waist, grinning to himself because—yeah. he knew that’d work.

when you get home, the door barely clicks shut behind you before jungkook is on you.

his hands are on your waist, his lips at your neck, pressing you up against the door like he can’t stand another second without touching you properly.

“koo—” your voice is soft, breathy, but it’s cut off when he tilts your chin up, kissing you deep, like he’s been holding back all day and finally, finally, he can let go.

his hands are firm, sliding down to grip your hips, tugging you closer, pressing his body against yours until there’s no space left. he’s warm, solid, overwhelming in the way only he can be.

“you have no idea, do you?” he murmurs against your lips, voice low, thick with something dark and unshaken. “the way you talk, the way you cling to me—drove me fuckin’ crazy all day.”

you blink up at him, eyes wide, breath shaky. “i—i didn’t mean to—”

“i know, baby,” he coos, lips ghosting along your jaw, hands gripping tighter, like he needs you closer even though you’re already pressed flat against the door. “that’s the thing. you don’t even realize what you do to me.”

your lips part, a soft whimper slipping out, and jungkook groans, his fingers tightening, his knee slotting between your thighs just enough to make you gasp.

“so sweet, so pretty,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, his touch insistent, like he’s desperate to have more. “you’ll let me take care of you, won’t you?”

you nod, swallowing hard, hands fisting in his hoodie. “yes, koo.”

he chuckles, dark and knowing, lips brushing against your ear. “good girl.”

jungkook hums, pleased, his nose brushing against your jaw as his hands roam—sliding down, gripping, squeezing like he’s mapping you out, relearning every curve even though he already knows them by heart.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, his lips trailing along your skin, leaving little kisses, little bites that make you whimper softly.

your head tips back against the door, your body pliant, melting under his touch. jungkook loves it—loves how easy it is to have you like this, soft and sweet for him, waiting to be told what to do.

his hands slide lower, fingers teasing at the hem of your skirt, brushing against your thighs, and you squirm, gripping at his hoodie, looking up at him with wide, needy eyes.

“koo,” you breathe, barely above a whisper.

he lifts his head, eyes dark, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “yeah, baby?”

you swallow, your lips parting, but you don’t know what to say—you just know you need him, need whatever he’s willing to give you.

jungkook chuckles, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your heated skin.

“s’cute how you get all quiet when you want something,” he teases, tilting his head. “got so much to say all day, but now you don’t know how to ask?”

your cheeks burn, embarrassment bubbling up in your chest, but you can’t even think straight when his hands are on you like this, when he’s looking at you like that.

you press your thighs together, shifting against him, but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“nuh-uh,” he murmurs, gripping your chin gently, making you look up at him. “use your words, pretty girl. tell me what you want.”

your breath catches, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, and you know he’s not letting you off easy tonight.

your breath is shaky, fingers tightening around the fabric of his hoodie as you try to steady yourself. your mind feels fuzzy, warmth pooling in your stomach from the way jungkook is looking at you—expectant, teasing, like he’s got all the time in the world to watch you squirm.

“i—” you start, but your voice is too soft, too hesitant.

jungkook’s thumb strokes your cheek, his grip still firm but gentle, his other hand resting heavy on your hip. “c’mon, baby,” he coaxes, voice smooth, deep. “you were so chatty today. don’t get shy on me now.”

your face burns, your lips parting, but the words get stuck in your throat. it’s embarrassing—saying it out loud, telling him exactly what you need. but jungkook doesn’t move, doesn’t let up, just watches you, waiting.

when you still hesitate, his grip tightens slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “need me to help you?” he murmurs.

you nod, swallowing hard.

jungkook smirks, his nose trailing along your jaw before he kisses just beneath your ear. “you want me to touch you?”

you nod again, but that’s not good enough.

his fingers press into your hip. “say it.”

your face feels impossibly hot, and you squeeze your eyes shut, the words barely above a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

jungkook groans, low and approving, his fingers flexing against you. “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

his lips find yours again, slow but deep, stealing your breath, making you weak in the knees. he presses closer, pinning you against the door, his hands roaming, teasing, making you whimper softly into his mouth.

“such a good girl,” he breathes, kissing you again, hungrier this time, his touch firmer, more insistent. “always so good for me.”

jungkook doesn’t waste any time. the second those words leave his lips, his grip tightens, fingers digging into your hips as he presses himself flush against you.

you gasp at the feeling of him, hard and insistent against your thigh, your body reacting instantly—back arching, hands fisting in his hoodie like you need something to hold onto.

“fuck,” jungkook groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “you feel that, baby?”

you nod, swallowing hard, heat curling low in your stomach.

“been like this since the store,” he mutters, voice rough, his hands roaming, gripping, pulling. “since you started whining about staying out longer, since that guy looked at you like he had a fuckin’ chance.”

your breath stutters, fingers curling tighter. “koo—”

he growls low in his throat, cutting you off as he rolls his hips against you, slow but deliberate, the friction making you whimper.

"yeah?" he pants, watching the way your lashes flutter, how your lips part on a shaky breath. "this what you wanted?"

you nod desperately, head tipping back against the door, your body melting into his.

“fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, his fingers tightening at your waist as he grinds against you again, slow but firm, the drag of denim against your clit making your legs shake.

your hands slide up, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging in through the fabric of his hoodie. “please,” you breathe, voice airy, needy, barely there.

he hisses at the sound, hips snapping forward, rougher this time, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through you.

"needy little thing," he teases, breath heavy, voice dripping with something dark and teasing. "could’ve just asked for this sooner."

you whimper, pressing your forehead against his, your body moving on instinct, hips rolling up to meet his.

jungkook groans, jaw tightening. “fuck, baby—”

his movements get sloppier, desperate, each roll of his hips more insistent than the last, chasing the feeling of you trembling under him.

“gonna make a mess,” he pants, forehead pressing against yours, his breaths ragged, his fingers digging into your hips, dragging you against him again and again. “s’that what you want?”

your head is spinning, your body burning, the friction building, unbearable and perfect all at once.

“yes,” you whimper, barely able to breathe.

jungkook groans, biting his lip as he ruts against you, faster, rougher, the feeling of you making him unravel.

and when you whimper his name, all soft and needy, your thighs squeezing tight around him—he loses it. his fingers slide lower, fumbling with the hemline of your skirt, tugging just enough for it to bunch up around your hips.

“gonna let me have you like this?” he breathes, voice wrecked, barely more than a whisper. you nod instantly, eyes glazed and lips swollen. “words, baby,” he rasps, his knuckles brushing against bare skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“yes,” you whisper, hands gripping at his hoodie, tugging him impossibly closer. “yes, jungkook, please—”

he groans, low and guttural, like he’s barely holding himself together.

his hands move fast, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them low, just enough for his aching cock to spring out, hard and heavy—because neither of you have the patience for anything more.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, jaw clenched as he presses forward, pushing your panties aside and finally sliding himself into your needy, dripping cunt. you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him, nails biting through fabric.

jungkook curses, a shudder rolling through his body as he presses his forehead against yours, breath ragged.

“so warm,” he murmurs, voice breaking, hands flexing against your hips as he slowly rolls his hips forward, testing, savoring, dragging out every little bit of friction. "so tight, every fucking time."

you whimper, thighs squeezing around him, pussy welcoming him like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

“shit—” he hisses, arms caging you against the door, pressing his weight into you as he thrusts forward again, just a little rougher, just a little deeper, tip kissing that sweet, spongey spot inside you.

the sound you make—soft and desperate—nearly drives him insane.

“so good,” he pants, gripping your hips tighter, setting a rhythm, slow but firm, each roll of his hips perfectly dragging against sensitive gummy walls.

you can barely breathe, barely think, barely do anything but hold onto him, body pliant, following his lead, letting him take what he needs, what you need.

“jungkook—” you gasp, legs trembling.

he groans, pressing his forehead to yours, nose brushing against yours, lips hovering over your own.

“i got you,” he whispers, voice thick with something raw, something deep, something only for you. “i got you, baby. just hold onto me.”

and jungkook isn’t holding back anymore. his pace turns frantic, all restraint snapping as he grips your hips and drives into you, fast and deep. “fuck, baby,” he groans, voice rough, forehead pressed against yours. “you feel so good—”

your breath catches, a high-pitched whimper slipping from your lips as his movements become rougher, more desperate, each thrust sending sparks shooting through your veins.

your hands fist in his hoodie, clinging to him, your body rocking against the door with every push forward.

“koo—” you gasp, your voice barely there, lost in the dizzying pleasure.

“i know, baby,” he pants, his grip tightening, holding you in place as he drives into you again, again, again. “i know—fuck, you’re so good, so perfect for me.”

you whimper, legs trembling, overwhelmed by the way he’s moving, fast and hungry, chasing his high. his hands slide up, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you in for a kiss, messy and desperate, all tongue and heavy breaths, swallowing every sound you make.

“tell me you’re mine,” he growls against your lips, his hips snapping forward with sharp precision, making you cry out. “tell me—”

“yours,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. “only yours, koo—”

he groans, low and deep, his pace turning erratic, his fingers gripping you so tight you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.

“shit—” he curses, his movements stuttering, his body tensing. “baby, i... i'mgonnafuckingcum—”

you whimper, clenching around him, your entire body burning, dizzy, entirely lost in him. an almost pornographic scream tears from your throat with the force of your orgasm, your back arching off of the door.

jungkook shudders, his grip crushing as he buries his face in your neck, his entire body going taut before he finally lets go. his breath is hot against your skin as he groans through it, spilling his load deep, filling you up over and over.

the room is quiet except for your heavy breaths, your bodies still tangled, his arms still wrapped around you like he has no intention of moving.

you blink up at him, dazed. lips swollen, cheeks flushed.

he exhales, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his grip finally loosening, hands smoothing over your sides in slow, soothing strokes.

“shit,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “you okay, baby?”

you nod, still breathless, still dizzy.

he grins, pressing a kiss to your nose. “you did so good for me.”

your cheeks burn, your fingers curling further into fabric. “you— you were kinda intense.”

he chuckles, kissing you again, softer this time, slow and lingering. “yeah?” he hums against your lips. “s’what you do to me, baby.”

and when he finally steps back, pulling up his jeans and helping you straighten your clothes, his hands linger, his eyes still dark and hazy as he takes you in.

“think i need another day off soon,” he muses, his thumb stroking over your hip.

you giggle, still leaning against the door for support. “yeah?”

he grins, kissing you one last time before scooping you up, carrying you toward the bedroom. “yeah,” he murmurs. “but next time, we’re not making it past the front door.”

...

taglist : @angellekookie @glossdebut @haru-jiminn @rpwprpwprpwprw

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

USA vs Europe Fans (Cracky)

Bayverse!Turtles x European!reader

A/N: Based on banter I have with my American friends, hehehehehe. Fun fact, my city’s club is actually in the video provided. Enjoy hehehe💚

Warnings: Football.

“Hell no!”, Raph said, dropping down next to you and the others in the main living area of the lair. “You, our little Euro -”, Raph continued, poking your shoulder as he did. “- seriously expect us to believe that Europe has better sports fans than the US? I think not!”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”, you asked, crossing your arms, narrowing your eyes at the turtle in red.

“Because the US is so patriotic, and Europe is just so, Europe-ie”, Raph said. “We invest more in our sports, okay”.

“And what makes you think that?”, you asked, feeling your blood slowly begin to boil. How dare he.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)”, Leo said. “It’s not to insult or insinuate anything about your home country or the whole of Europe, but the US does have a thing for their sports”.

“And you seriously don’t think that Europe has a thing for sports either?”, you asked, fighting the urge to snap at him.

“Well”, Mikey chimped in. “We do have the Super Bowl”.

“So?”, you asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Eurovision has more viewers than the Super Bowl”.

“Hey!”, Raph said, almost sounding insulted. “Don’t lie like that!”

“She’s not lying”, Donnie said, looking up from his laptop, where he had just pulled Google up. “The Super Bowl 2024 had 123.7 million viewers, while the Eurovision Song Contest that same year had 163 million viewers”.

“What?!”, Mikey yelled out, running to see Donnie’s screen. “People actually watch that shit?”

“Watch it!”, you called out, pointing at the orange turtle. “That competition had made music that even you guys listen to!”

“Okay, but the US has better sports chants”, Raph said, allowing Mikey to retreat back to his seat.

“High doubt that”, you said. “Nothing beats a good UK chant. If I remember correctly, England played a friendly against the US, where the US fans started chanting “I believe that we will win”, to which the English chanted “what the fuck? What the fuck? What the fucking hell was that?”, until the US decided to stop and not chant the rest of the game”.

“Yeah, “I believe that we will win” is an awful chant”, Leo said, scratching the back of neck.

“Doesn’t matter”, Raph said. “We’re talking about real sports here! Not soccer”.

A loud gasp came from the other’s watching in horror and fear at the scene in front of them. Even Raph seemed to realize his mistake. Never had he called football soccer while you were around. Not once. Well, until today. And already now, he realized how bad of a decision that was, when you suddenly jumped up from your seat, beat red in the face, turning toward Donnie fire in your eyes.

“Donnie! Computer, television, now!”

Without missing a beat, Donnie was quick to connect the computer to the television, before allowing you to type in whatever you were looking for. You wasted no time pulling up a YouTube video titled something along lines of “Football fans and atmospheres. 100.000 Americans vs. 1.000 Europeans”, with a picture of an American football field as one of the first.

“I have a feeling we’re screwed”, Mikey said, bracing himself as you hit play.

(Watch until 01:29)

“What’s wrong with that?”, Raph asked, as you were halfway through the part about the American fans. “People are chanting and having a good time. That’s what sports enjoyment is all about!”

“They are just as dreadful and enthusiastic to look at as an alcoholic drinking water”, you said, clearly still raging, causing Donnie to almost choke on a laugh.

“Excuse me?”, Leo asked, clearly taken aback by your statement. There was no denying that you had some more colorful expressions than what the turtles were used to, but this was a new one.

(Watch until 02:18)

“I’ve heard people cheer louder at the opposing team”, you said, crossing your arms.

“But look, we have cheerleaders”, Mikey said, wiggling his brow muscles. “I’m pretty sure Europe doesn’t have those”.

“We do but we don’t need them”, you retorted. “Cheerleaders are for people that need something other than a game to cheer for”.

“Well, ouch”, Mikey said, shaking his hand as if it had been burned, all while Donnie tried to hide his face in a pillow, hoping he was able to hide his laughter.

(Watch until 03:12)

“Finally”, you said, as the word EUROPA came up on the screen. “Some good stuff”.

“I still don’t see how Europe can beat that”, Raph said. “US has bands, cheerleaders, chants, I mean, how can you top - why are they in a tunnel?”

“Just keep watching”, you said with a small smile, just as the volume warning flashed across the screen, along with police guards along one tunnel wall and the distant sound of chanting.

“Oh, we’re definitely screwed”, Mikey whimpered, just as the words “Actual player entrance tunnel” came up along with more police and loud sounds of explosion like bangs.

(Watch until 05:08)

“Are those flares?”, Leo asked. “Is that even safe?”

“Don’t mind the flares! Look at them jumping!”, Mikey exclaimed.

You turned to Raph with a smug smile, seeing how he was staring at the screen with his mouth open. “Not a real sport huh?”

(Watch until 10:00)

“They look like they’re going to war!”, Mikey exclaimed.

“Well, if it’s a derby, you can very much expect it to turn into a war”, you shrugged.

“Has anybody ever gotten injured?”, Donnie asked.

“Probably”, you answered with another shrug.

(Finish video)

“And that is the kind of sports fans and atmosphere I’m used to”, you said, leaning back with a smug smile.

“I’m going to bed”, Raph said, getting up from the couch, and heading towards his room.

“But it’s the middle of the day!”, Leo called out after him.

“Don’t care! I’m tired”, the red clad turtle said, before disappearing into his room.

“Let him sleep!”, Mikey said, turning his attention towards Donnie and his computer. “I want to watch more European football!”

[malk1ns]

march 27 @ sabres, 7-3 loss

sidney crosby is officially the most consistent player in the history of the sport. boy oh boy are we a lucky, lucky fanbase. don't ever take watching him play for granted!!!!

and that's all that happened in this game i'm pretty sure.

@beggingwolf talked me into doing a little mini-AU of my influencer!geno story that i'm hoping to work on this offseason, and that + this picture reappearing in my life where he really DOES look like an influencer got the wheels turning. and here we are!

Normally Zhenya vets his brand trips pretty thoroughly. There are some people out there who jump at every sponsored vacation that’s thrown at them regardless of who’s picking up the bill, and while Zhenya’s not about to pretend he’s some scrupulously ethical guy who only shills products he supports with every fiber of his being, he’s also not interested in flaunting a lavish trip for some brand his followers have never heard him talk about before.

Some of his vetting is selfish, of course. He wants to be flown out to fun places with people he can actually tolerate, not the ever-growing mass of early-20s fitfluencers who all talk in the same cadence and over-filter their videos so their followers can’t clock the injection sites and surgery scars while they’re talking up some new weight-loss fad product as if it’s the secret to their looks.

Zhenya’s not like that. He’s still filming on the same camera he bought back when he first started recording himself, well before the pandemic and when the concept of being an influencer as a full-time career didn’t really exist yet. He doesn’t even think he knew the word ‘influencer’ when he posted his first video to YouTube all those years ago; he just wanted to make workout videos for people who can’t get to the gym and maybe raise his own personal trainer brand a little at the same time. Rent isn’t cheap in NYC after all, even on Zhenya’s Equinox salary, and new clients, especially ones above a certain income bracket, are never a bad thing.

When the pandemic hit, Zhenya seriously thought he’d have to somehow move back home, slink back to his parents’ house in backwoods Russia and admit that his dreams had been a little too big after all. Five years ago, he never could have guessed where he’d be now.

Quitting his day job had been risky, a decision he agonized over for weeks. But the partnership offers were piling up, and his manager was fielding high-profile celebrity requests by the dozen to have him come and design custom workout plans for them. The money piling up in his accounts was staggering, an unfathomable total to a boy who grew up in a one-bedroom apartment in an industrial post-Soviet town.

Even if it all comes crashing down tomorrow, it was worth every minute. Zhenya’s trying to be smart with his money, squirreling most of it away into investments he can live off and buying property instead of yet another shitty Amazon ‘must-have’, but he’s enjoying the fruits of his labor, too—the nice cars, the nice house, the nice vacations in five-star hotels.

He would not classify Buffalo in March as one of the nicer places he’s been to, but the reason he’s going makes this trip the most exciting one yet. The chance to watch his favorite hockey player break a Wayne Gretzky record as the Penguins’ guest isn’t something Zhenya would pass up in a million years.

«I don’t know what to wear,» he whines, stabbing at his phone until it switches to speaker and tossing it on the floor at his feet as he continues to paw through his closet. «Is it tacky to wear a jersey? Do I look good in jerseys?»

Artemy sighs so loudly Zhenya’s phone crackles. «You sound like a teenage girl,» he informs Zhenya, who rolls his eyes and holds up his plum puffer vest in consideration. Maybe this with a long-sleeve shirt…? «Of course jerseys are tacky. But everyone in the damn arena will have one on. Bring something else for after if you think they’ll let you take pictures you’ll want to post, but if you want to wear a jersey, wear one. You’ll look fine.»

«But which one?» Zhenya muses, turning to look at the long row of Penguins jerseys taking up nearly a quarter of his closet.

Artemy hangs up on him. Zhenya doesn’t bother calling back.

He does pack a jersey though—a game-worn one that Zhenya saved for months to afford and really had no business buying at the time. It’s not autographed, but Crosby scored 23 goals while wearing it, and Zhenya’s nostalgic for the Vegas gold color scheme.

He brings a hat from his collaboration with Goorin Bros too, one of the gray beanies. The black sold better, but Zhenya prefers the gray, and it’ll look better with his purple vest.

The Penguins offer to put him in a suite—apparently the demand isn’t high for premium seating in Buffalo this year, go figure—but Zhenya manages to wheedle a seat on the glass, right next to the visitor’s penalty box. He wants to be close to the action, where he can hear and see everything and hopefully get some good pictures.

The flight to Buffalo is short, but Zhenya upgrades himself to business class and spends the entire 90 minutes slouched in his seat scrolling through Sidney Crosby highlights on YouTube. He’s watched all these videos hundreds of times by now, but he could use a refresher—what if he meets Sid? He wants to sound like he knows what he’s talking about, like he’s a real fan, not just a clout-chaser or a puckbunny.

Stupid, really. The PR person hadn’t been sure Zhenya would be able to meet any players—they’re going straight from the game to the airport, everyone eager to get home after the road trip—but he’ll get a tour of the locker room anyway, and the team wants to take some pictures of their own to post.

They put him up in the same hotel where the team is staying, and Zhenya spends the afternoon fantasizing about walking down into the lobby, running into Sid, and charming him with some line that gets them talking.

The very thought of it terrifies him, so Zhenya orders room service and goes to bed as early as possible.

Zhenya’s been a Penguins fan for what feels like his entire life. When he was younger he was obsessed with Mario Lemieux and Jaromir Jagr—his parents couldn’t afford to put him into the hockey program in Magnitogorsk, but he used to play out on the pond with his friends, and he always had dibs on taping a 66 onto the back of his coat. Most of the kids in Russia cheered for Detroit, and Zhenya had a Red Wings hat too, but it was the Penguins he followed as best he could.

When they drafted Sidney Crosby and Zhenya got a look at him on TV for the first time, that just sealed it. He’s followed Sid’s whole career, digging through the bowels of the internet for game footage in the middle of the night until he moved to America and could watch games at a reasonable hour, and the first vacation he took in the US was to Pittsburgh, to watch the Penguins play up in the rafters of the Igloo.

Now that Zhenya makes real money he’s been to a lot more games, in much better seats. He’s talked about the Penguins on his platforms as long as he’s been on social media, sometimes dedicating entire videos to rant about poorly-officiated games or gush over a play Sid made that didn’t get enough attention. He supposes it was only a matter of time until someone on the team stumbled onto his account, but he still can’t believe they reached out to invite him to potentially watch history be made.

The hotel gym is deserted the next morning, and Zhenya runs off as much of his nervous energy on the treadmill as he can tolerate. He spends too long primping in the mirror after his shower, pushing his hair back and forth until he remembers he brought his hat and rolls his eyes at himself before cramming it onto his head.

The Penguins send a car for him late afternoon, and Zhenya spends the hour before warmups wandering KeyBank center with a pretty brunette from the comms team. She giggles and blushes when he casually flirts with her—Zhenya might be gay but he has eyes, he can appreciate a beautiful woman, and everyone likes to be flirted with.

He has time to grab a canned cocktail before heading down for warmups, settling into his seat and sipping on his drink as he films a quick video to post to his feeds. When the players come out Zhenya practically plasters himself to the glass, staring raptly as the Penguins skate past him and getting as much footage as he can to sort through and post later.

He’s never had seats this good. This fucking rules.

It gets even better a few minutes into the game when Sid takes a penalty and spends two minutes barely two feet from Zhenya’s seat. Normally Zhenya would be watching the penalty kill through his fingers and holding his breath, but this time he spends the entire penalty half-turned in his chair so it’s not quite so obvious that he’s staring at Sid.

Sid sprays water down the back of his jersey and then in his mouth, and Zhenya learns what it looks like when he has drops of water on those big red lips up close. He spends most of the two minutes chatting with the penalty box attendant, but when there’s about half a minute left and he’s standing up in preparation to skate back out, he glances to the side, right at Zhenya.

Zhenya watches Sid’s eyes widen, then glance up at his hat, and then the penalty is over and Sid skates back out to rejoin the game.

“Holy shit,” Zhenya mutters, placing his phone in his lap so his shaking hands don’t drop it. “No way, holy shit?”

He’s so flustered by the direct eye contact that he almost misses when Sid officially passes the record, a beauty of a goal that sends Zhenya and what feels like the entire arena to their feet. The applause is long, even from the home fans, and Zhenya practically wears out his thumb taking pictures of the scoreboard, the bench, the crowd, and himself. He didn’t get a video of the goal, but there will be enough footage posted all over—Zhenya got to see it with his own eyes, practically in front of him.

Unfortunately, that’s the high point of the game. Zhenya winces through most of the second period, and even a pair of goals in the third to make the final score a little less mortifying doesn’t quite match the emotional high of Sid’s goal.

Zhenya loves seeing his team in person, though, even when they lose, and he’s shaken off his disappointment by the time the brunette comes to take him to the players’ area.

Zhenya wrinkles his nose at the workout facilities—he’s still an Equinox snob at heart, sue him—and badly wants to poke through the refrigerator in the player’s lounge, but when they approach what can only be the locker room he clams up.

The girl—Emma—pauses with her hand on the door, looking up at him. “They’re all going to be in the change room by now,” she says reassuringly, adjusting the camera around her neck. “And they know we have a guest, so you’re not intruding. I know this is a little weird, I hated coming down here when I first started, but they’re totally used to it. If anyone pops in it’s because they watch your stuff and want to say hi—some of the younger guys were really excited when we told them you were coming tonight, and I’m pretty sure Tanger follows you. Anyway, don’t worry about it. We’ll be in and out.”

Tanger does follow Zhenya. That happened about three years ago, and Zhenya spent most of the afternoon having a quiet panic attack in his apartment when he got the notification. He didn’t think that meant Tanger actually looked at his posts. How embarrassing.

The Penguins are expecting content out of this, so Zhenya squares his shoulders and flashes his brightest smile at Emma, who turns pink and lifts up the camera, pushing the door open and clicking record.

Zhenya hams it up in the room, putting on the slightly-exaggerated public personality he’s been cultivating for years. It’s not entirely fake, Zhenya wouldn’t be able to sustain it for this long if it was, but it’s a little bit more than he is in real life. It plays well on social media, so whatever.

Once Emma’s happy with what she got, she takes a few pictures of Zhenya on his phone. He flips through them before they leave, pausing on the one of him sitting in Sid’s locker and looking to the side—that’s the one, he thinks. He’s glad he took his jersey off for these pictures.

“Oh,” Emma says, and Zhenya looks up guiltily—she’s been so nice, but he’s sure he’s keeping her from getting home. She’s staring down at her phone. “So, Sid wants to meet you? Is that cool? He’s still with the trainers, but can you wait a few minutes?”

Zhenya’s brain shuts down.

He must reply with some form of affirmative, though, because Emma taps something on her phone before guiding Zhenya out of the locker room and back to the player’s lounge.

“I’m so sorry, but I have some stuff I need to take care of before we head to the airport,” she says apologetically. Zhenya can hear her phone vibrating in her hand. “Are you okay waiting here alone? Sid knows where you are, he should come find you soon.”

“Sure,” Zhenya says faintly, and Emma smiles at him before rushing off.

Zhenya looks around the room, then shakes his head and sits on the couch, taking a deep breath. He’s going to meet Sidney Crosby—he needs to get it together.

He distracts himself by making a few color adjustments to that picture and typing out a few different captions before settling on one. He debates over the hashtags, but it’s not like the Penguins could possibly be surprised—Zhenya’s very, very out, and he’s never shied away from praising Sid’s looks as well as his hockey on his platforms. If they don’t know, that’s their own fault.

He’s just hit post when someone clears their throat.

Zhenya’s head whips up so fast he almost pulls something in his neck.

“Hey there,” says Sidney Crosby, standing a few feet away from Zhenya and dressed in the tightest, most threadbare pair of lululemon leggings Zhenya’s ever seen. “Geno, right? Thanks for sticking around, sorry to make you wait.”

“Um,” Zhenya says intelligently, fumbling his phone into his vest pocket as he gets to his feet. “No problem, like, fun to see the locker room and stuff.”

Sid steps closer and sticks his hand out. Zhenya takes it, praying his palm isn’t as sweaty as the rest of his body feels. Sid’s hair is still damp, but he smells like cologne, and Zhenya wonders if he’s going to faint. “Great to meet you, man,” Sid says, smiling at Zhenya. His teeth are so white. “We’re all big fans, the boys were pretty excited when Jen told us you were coming. Tanger’s gonna be pissed at me forever, he really wanted to meet you but he’s still stuck with the docs.”

“Oh wow,” Zhenya says, holding Sid’s hand for a hair too long before dropping it. Up close, Sid’s mouth is so red and his eyes are enormous. He’s a little shorter than Zhenya thought, but he’s broad, and his biceps are straining the sleeves of the t-shirt he’s got on. “Um, I’m not know you watch. Well, I know Tanger follows, but I don’t think he actually watches, you know.”

Sid bites his lip. “I follow you too,” he says, voice low like he’s sharing a secret. “I’ve got a…I think they call it a finsta? It doesn’t have a profile picture or anything, you wouldn’t know it’s me. But I started following you during the lockdown, your videos were great. I was getting so bored with the stuff the trainers sent out, and everything else I found was like…it just wasn’t good, you know, but then Tanger found your account and—” Sid pauses, and Zhenya watches in amazement as his face turns red. “Sorry. Jesus, I’m babbling, I get like this after games. Anyway. Sorry we couldn’t get a win for you, but I hope you had fun anyway.”

“Best,” Zhenya rushes to reassure him. “Your goal, like, it’s so good, classic Crosby goal. So cool to see you break the record, I can’t believe. I’m a fan for so long, I never think I get to see something so close like that.”

Sid’s smile returns in full force. “Oh, you’ve been a fan for a while, eh?” he says, tilting his head coyly. Abruptly, Zhenya realizes he’s being flirted with. “Well, it’s a shame it took so long for us to get you down here—I would have loved to have met you sooner.” 

“Yes,” Zhenya says dumbly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. Is this really happening?

Sid’s eyes follow his hand, widening when he looks up at Zhenya’s beanie. “Oh, your hat! I saw that when I was in the box, that’s really cool. Goorin, right? Kris has a ton of stuff from them, I remember when your collection came out. You got any extras of those lying around?”

Zhenya takes a deep breath and decides to be brave. “Yes, I have at home, lots of colors,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I can send to you, maybe? But you’re have to tell me what kind you want, like, hat or beanie, what style—maybe you give me your number, I can send you pictures?” He unlocks his iPhone and holds it out, hand shaking only a little.

Sid stares at it for a minute, and just when Zhenya thinks he’s made a horrible mistake snatches it out of his palm. “Maybe instead you should come to Pittsburgh and bring some with you,” he says, pulling up the messenger app and starting a new thread. “I mean, probably it would be better for me to see how they look, right? And it’ll save you shipping. If you’ve got time you could stay a while, come to a few games—we have another roadie coming up, but our last couple of games are at home. What do you think?” When he hands Zhenya his phone back, his smile is sly and his eyes are sharp.

Zhenya heads back to his hotel with Sidney Crosby’s phone number burning a hole in his pocket. It’s a good thing his flight isn’t until later tomorrow—there’s no way he’s sleeping any time soon tonight.

thanks to @beggingwolf for photoshopping sid's nameplate into this picture to complete my geno influencer dreams. you Will see this picture used again, god willing. i'm responsible for the caption which is why it looks terrible <3

[morteoshutup]

More Than Metal

Not Just Safe—See - Pt 3

TFP Optimus x Reader

It's been a couple of weeks since you've been stuck with the Autobots. Optimus Prime. The bot who had saved you and, for some reason, who's very hot, told you that you couldn't go back home since the Decepticons knew that you had personal contact with them. Therefore, for your safety, it is best to stay here with them. Not only that, Agent Fowler, a friend of theirs who works with the government, has taken care of everything about my personal life and connections. You basically moved into the Autobot base. How fun. Everyone is pretty cool, except for Ratchet, the medic. He doesn't seem fawned over you at all. He's pretty bitchy towards you, but Optimus said to not worry about him and he's still adjusting to humans being on base. You couldn't care less. It's not that you wanted to move in here. It just happens that you're forced to live here.

You asked a lot of questions about the Autobots to the teenagers who are always coming to the base, and you figured out their names were Raf, Jack, and Miko. They seemed pretty cool, and they seem to like you. What surprises you is that they like you because you're not bossy or trying to 'ruin' their fun, said Miko. You didn't care. You were always the cool Aunt to your nieces and nephews. You enjoyed the games Miko and Jack will bring when you're bored, and you enjoyed listening to Raf rant about any nerdy stuff he was into.

Optimus Prime. If you had to describe him, he's very laid back for being the boss of the Autobots, but has the whole world on his shoulders. You wonder if he could get a massage or something because you bet he has a lot of unwanted knots on his shoulders from all the stress he's been under. He seems to be always worrying about your well-being. Apparently, being almost killed by the Decepticons made him more stressed and clingy to you. You don't mind him being worried. He just pushed it a little too far. Always forcing you to get checkups from Ratchet, who looks like he's done with these checkups like you do. But you don't want to make him upset because he did save you, and he's just worried.

You sat on the couch with your feet up on the little coffee table. You watch as Miko and Jack play another game, just for Jack to win, again. You smiled as Miko groaned in despair. You want to tell her that she actually sucks at video games. You can't play video games well, but even you can beat her; not everyone is born to be good at video games. You heard some steps come from one of the hallways in the base. You looked over to see Optimus, the savior bot. Ever since you gave him that nickname, he has always gotten flustered from it. It's adorable. "What's up, savior bot?" You called him. He stopped in his tracks and looked away for a second before acknowledging you. "Good afternoon, how was your day today?" He said, bowing his head a little. You shrugged your shoulders. "It's alright. Just hanging out with the trio." Pointing at Jack, Miko, and Raf. Optimus nodded.

He watched as you went back to watching Jack and Miko playing, cheering on Miko to win. He smiled at this. He's glad that you found comfort with the children, but he feels bad for having you trapped in here. If he could, he would gladly take you back to your home. Your family. However, he knows that would put you at risk. He can't be responsible for another death, a human death, because of making the wrong decision.

"Little one?" You turn your head to see Optimus calling you. You found it funny that he came up with a nickname for you, too, after you gave him a nickname. But, you wonder why 'little one?' Your guess is because you're very little compared to him, which is understandable, but it hurts your pride knowing you're tiny compared to him. "Yes?" You tilt your head a little, acknowledging him. He looked hesitant for a second. "Do...Do you wish to leave?" You raised your eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? Do I want to leave the base?" He nodded. I thought for a second. There's no doubt that I have thought about it, but I got so comfortable here that I stopped thinking about it. Not only that, it would be a pain in the ass trying to move all of my stuff out of the base. "I won't lie to you, but at first, yeah, I did want to leave. I was just confused about what was going on, and everything was going so fast that I couldn't think. But now that I've settled down. I don't want to leave. It's actually pretty quiet for how hectic it is here, but I would choose this place over any other place. Also, it would be a pain to gather all of my stuff to leave. So, to answer your question, no, I don't want to leave."

He was surprised by your answer. Although you did answer that you wanted to leave at first, now you want to stay. "Why?" He found himself saying without thinking. "Because...Everyone is so nice to each other that I forgot what that feels like. Also, if you haven't realized, I've been trying to help out as much as I can. To repay for your kindness. I owe you my life. If you haven't been there, I don't think I would be alive today. So, thank you." You smiled. Another response he wasn't expecting, you were full of surprises and mysterious. Is this what Ratchet means by how humans are unexpected? He smiled. "No. Thank you, little one." You raise your eyebrow, not understanding his meaning. He chuckled lightly and rubbed the top of your head with his digit. You don't realize your present made him feel at home for the first time. Something he had longed for a long time, ever since Cybertron fell. He’ll make sure nothing ever harms you.

Pervious

I got cookies with my cat's face on them. I thought they were hilarious, especially the photos I chose for them.

[ishaslife]

Astarion has been breaking my poor heart.

This post will contain spoilers for the game and Astarion's romance/backstory. Before anyone comes at me, I want to say that you are the main character, you are supposed to change the fates and behaviours of your characters, especially if you are romancing them. It's a video game, that's kind of the point.

This post is extremely long and I apologise.

This analysis is based off my playthrough.

(*) means check notes at the bottom of the post.

I wasn't expecting to like him as much as I do. Don't get me wrong, I really liked him during EA and I thought he was funny, charming, flirty with a dark past and all that was just a means to cover his trauma but since the full game has come out and we've gotten to know more of him, it truly breaks my heart to see and know what he has been through. My sister and I were watching his reactions to be being rejected, being told that Tav only wants sex and forcing him to do things he doesn't want to do, it is truly heart-wrenching.

Many people expected Astarion to be this "I am so sexual and my romance will mostly be sex, also I will betray you the first chance I get." and it couldn't be further from the truth. Astarion is extremely loyal, and yes he has that air of flambouncy to him, will often make japes and say evil things but most of the time, it is just a facade. It's his shield in a way, he has been treated with utter cruelty for two hundred years of his life and now that he finally has some control over himself, he doesn't wish to be hurt again.

I don't think Astarion is ever completely evil, even in the beginning. He just wants to have fun and enjoy life after so many years of slavery. He likes it when you are snarky, say mean shit to people for fun but, he doesn't like to see innocents get hurt, and he doesn't support fighting for people who don't fight for themselves. Yes, he will support some of your evil decisions but they will lead to a bad ending, for you and your characters. It'll make Astarion wallow more in his greed and he'll lose the little humanity he has left. He doesn't really have a clear sense of direction in the beginning of the game as he's just found freedom and obviously wants to live life to the fullest, being evil comes naturally to him, it's instinct as its what he's been doing for two centuries.

This is my assumption since we don't know his actual age but since he's an elf who was well-respected in society, had a pretty prestigious job and was rich enough to be corrupt. I'd assume he was at least 70-100 years old before he was turned into a spawn. (EDIT - in a recent post by @deluxetrashqueen I saw the translation of the dates of birth and death on his tombstone:

"Astarion Ancunin

229-268 DR" to which he adds, "458DR - "

which shows that he was only 39 at the time of his death, which explains his emotional immaturity for an elf.) My point being, I believe he has been a spawn for longer than he's ever been a regular person. He has spent the longer part of his life doing evil things for an evil man, that was what his life was on a daily basis with Cazador. And his former work experience probably helped, he likely learnt pretty quick how much he took for granted as a living person and the harshness of his master, peers and people he seduced made him harsh and unforgiving in return.

Once you start getting close to him, you start to learn that he is only mean to people because of how life has treated him. In his romance, he says "no one ever looked out for me, no one ever said a kind word to me. You're the only one, no one is like that." Astarion starts to see, because of you that there is kindness in the world, and he finds kindness in you. Especially after his quest, as much as he'd hate to admit it, he also sees friends in your other companions as they do in him. By the end of Act 2, he starts to get more soft towards you and the decisions you make, often even disapproving of evil decisions. People often tend to forget that a lot of Astarion's evil personality is a front, it is not who he truly is.

These points will be better explained individually so I will talk about some themes.

Power: power plays a big part in his entire storyline. In the beginning, he wants to harness the powers of the tadpole to become powerful and at first, you think that it's simply because he's an evil character and he wants power for the sake of having it. Then later, he wishes to take over the power of the ascendant but mostly only to spite Cazador and take something important from him, not fully realising the true power of the rite.

As he slowly starts opening up to you, he tells you "the mind flayers tore me from that place" and you realise that its the tadpole that let's him walk in the sun, do things a vampire or spawn would never be able to, you learn that he hates being a vampire because he can't even remember what he looks like. He seeks power outside because he has had no power over himself for about two centuries, he thinks that having this power will fulfill his needs but it won't, we know it won't because in truth he only needs to reclaim his autonomy, physical and mental. Of course Astarion would never truly admit to this for a long while, even when he's romanced. I personally really love his good romance arc where he doesn't have sex with you, not because he dislikes you or doesn't want you but because, as he says "any kind of intimacy was something I performed to lure people back for him. While I know things between us are different... being with someone still feels tainted. It brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." He has spent 200 years or so bowing to Cazador's whims, done things to people he didn't want to do and I assume since it's heavily hinted at, were very sexual in nature. In a relationship, he simply wants to be seen as a person and I think that's really sad because that's how low the bar is for him.

In the ending of his quest, you can persuade him and tell him that going forth with the ritual won't set him free even if he thinks it will and I agree. If he's a slave to Cazador now, later he'd be a slave to power and greed. Just look at Cazador, despite being one of the most powerful beings in existence, he still wanted more power. That kind of greed and hunger never ends and Astarion would lose himself and who he has become while he was with us. Yes, it makes him walk in the sun again and do things a regular vampire can't but at what cost? 7,000 lives and his humanity. He would never be able to enjoy this "freedom" because he'll only strive to seek more power. In his ascendant ending, he becomes everything he's ever hated about Cazador, the cycle repeats itself, from Vellioth to Cazador and from Cazador to Astarion. And it will never end. Astarion even refuses to turn you into a vampire and wishes to keep you only as a spawn. With an insight check, you can learn that he thinks you're degrading yourself and he doesn't care. He now sees you as something to own, something to possess, not love. All his good qualities, wants and needs get twisted. Astarion truly only needs to feel like a person again but he doesn't fully realise this until you show it to him, through good deeds and actions, through simple acts of kindness. As he says in his "good" ending "I've been dead in the ground enough. It's time to try living again. With all that life has to offer."

Safety: Astarion wants to feel safe. He is so scared of being found by Cazador, he knows he's looking for him and the only thing giving him some form of safety from Cazador is the tadpole so of course he wants to harness its powers that is until he finds out it'll turn him into another kind of monster, a mind flayer. He doesn't wish to lose himself and his freedom again hence is vehemently against taking on the tadpole's powers but he doesn't stop you because that is of course, your decision to make. He says "if such power would please you, darling, I won't stop you. But do be careful, I want you to remain you." Now the only thing left that can properly give him his freedom is Cazador's death and he wants to kill him himself which I think is perfectly acceptable, Cazador deserves to die and if it is by Astarion's hands, all the better. But, in his romance, he makes it clear that he's doing it for safety, and he tells himself that he wants to take the power of the rite for safety as well because in truth, he is terrified of being powerless again. He does want revenge yes, but he also wants to keep you and himself safe from Cazador, even in the dungeon, if you run an insight check, the narrator tells you that he is losing his mind because of the power that's on offer and the smell of blood in the air. It's almost as if to say "he's losing his mind, please stop him before he forgets who he is." Astarion NEEDS your guidance*, eventually he even thanks you for 'saving him from himself.' In his good ending, he sees that in taking the power, he would be no better than Cazador and would become everything he's ever hated about him, and inflict on others what his former master inflicted on him, starting with you. His ascendant ending is honestly a very sad ending for his character, all that growth, change and development you bring to him throughout your journey just gone down the drain as he becomes an unfeeling, evil, narcissistic arsehole who only craves for more power. In his good ending, he will be safe, with you and with the friends he has made along the way. He is proud of himself and so is everyone else, it offers him a kind of friendship that's afforded to very few in the D&D world, especially a vampire/spawn whose very existence is hated. It is a bond based on trust, loyalty and to a degree, even love instead of fear like in the ascendant ending.

Abandonment and Fear: Astarion is driven by fear but he also knows facing Cazador is inevitable and something he needs to face rather than avoid. Even if he isn't outright seeking it (but he does seek it) I think he is braver than he likes to think and he definitely has some anti-hero traits. He likes the tadpole because it helped him get away from Cazador's authority and he enjoys bending others to his will since it makes him feel more powerful compared to how he's felt the past two centuries. But if you choose to not do the same, he doesn't really care. He doesn't except it of you nor is he disappointed (since he neither approves or disapproves. He only disapproves helping people who didn't ask or didn't want to be helped) he only gives a snarky comment or two about what he would've done instead and follows you anyway. He realises you're a good person. If you indulge too much however, I would argue that he agrees simply because he doesn't want you to turn against him. Perhaps he believes that you can turn on him and kill him as easily as you killed the tieflings or other innocents. He probably thinks it's easier to turn a good person evil than an evil person, good (tbh he wouldn't be entirely wrong.) And making bad choices does negatively affect his character of course but I just thought I'd put that out there as I think it's very likely for him to do so. He is definitely extremely paranoid, he hardly ever says how he truly feels out loud but when you break up with him (it's so heartbreaking omg) he says "I was beginning to think someone truly wanted me. I shouldn't have deluded myself." and "From the start, I was rather counting the hours until it was going to end. Midnight chimes, eh?" As heartbreaking as it is, the latter line shows how terrified he was of being abandoned or only be used for his body, he kept obessesively worrying that Tav would leave him after he bore his heart out to them. There's another bit of dialogue in Act 1 where he is trying his lines with you to get you to sleep with him a second time and you can say no which he is fine with but if you outright reject him there, meaning "I never want to see you like that again" he gets extremely sad: "Well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart. [slight chuckle] In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back 10,000 times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, I'll remember. [long pause] Have a fine evening... dear." Mind you, this is after you've only slept with him once. His dialogue makes it seem like he was already catching feelings for you, and not realising that himself until this happens. Seeing this made me realise that you're the first person he's slept with of his own volition, even if it was to seduce you. For the longest time, I think Astarion doesn't even want to believe you'll like him as something more than someone to sleep with, he hopes you might as his rejection line says so but astarion is nothing if not careful and well, paranoid.

That's why he's so shocked when you choose to not let him bite Araj at Moonrise even if it gave you something powerful in return. He sees that you chose his comfort over a genuinely useful commodity. Biting people or using his vampire, well, anything makes him extremely uncomfortable since it reminds him of things he needed to do for Cazador. If he bites her, it makes him feel like being a slave again, but bending to your will and wishes instead of his former master's. He realises he doesn't know how to say no. Which is another thing he says if you wish to pursue only a sexual relationship with him. He feels played.

Freedom: this is probably the main theme to his character arc. He wants to be free, not only from his master but also free to make right decisions and make decisions for himself, something he hasn't been able to do for years. This is why respecting his decision to not sleep with you is important to him, he doesn't feel comfortable being physically close to someone in a sexual way as it makes him doubt the person's true intentions and feelings and of course, makes him feel loathsome and disgusted with himself. He needs that time where you just connect as people to really see that you are in fact genuine and he wouldn't be hurt if he trusted you or gave you his heart. Towards the end of the game, he is still quite ruthless, but mostly only towards people who do wrong and are criminals. Astarion has a very strong set of ideals, he believes that people who do wrong deserve to die no matter the crime. I don't think this is entirely true, every crime deserves a different punishment but most criminals, those who do severe wrong and still get away with it, do deserve to die but this is just my opinion of course. He is ruthless towards bad people because that's how people have been to him, at least Cazador and I wouldn't be surprised if he was treated badly during his sexual encounters with strangers while working for him.

Why I think the Ascendant ending is a tragic ending for Astarion's character and for you.

I won't lie, there are some aspects of ascended Astarion that are pretty hot and I'm a sucker for (pun absolutely intended) powerful, gothic vampires but this ending comes at the cost of way too much. One simply being: Astarion isn't Astarion anymore. All his snarkiness, playful nature and strange innocence is gone. In his ascendant ending, that is, when he takes the power of the Rite of Ascension for himself by carving the same rune on Cazador's back that's on his own, Astarion loses himself. In D&D lore, full vampires are unfeeling, ruthless and have all their good traits twisted into something more malignant and evil. If Astarion loved you, that love turns into possession, if he cared for you, it turns into obsession. He doesn't truly care anymore... as a vampire, he is manipulating you and telling you things you want to hear instead of what he's actually feeling. He never truly got that moment of catharsis by killing Cazador as he does in his spawn ending. That simple bliss of killing the man that enslaved him and worse all these years; he never gets to experience that because he ends up using Cazador for the same power Cazador killed Vellioth for in the past, albeit worse. It's a never-ending cycle. And if he turns you into his spawn, you will go through the same fate Astarion went through and probably turn on him the same way he turned on Cazador. He has absolutely no sympathy for you or for anyone that is not him, in fact he feels almost disgusted by you because he thinks you're degrading yourself in front of him. There is a conversation between him and if you refuse to become his spawn, and I think it sums up his character perfectly as a vampire, it goes like this:

(choosing different options will have different dialogues but they more or less lead to him saying the same thing.)

ASTARION: Just so you know, I have everything I've ever wanted. Everything lies ahead. I can see my path to a waking dream. From the Crimson Palace, I will govern day and night. Create a city of spawn who bow before me, cast a fog over the world for my children.

TAV: But the Palace halls will be lonely.

ASTARION: You'll be lonelier than I. Very soon I will discover how to call my legions of wolves, become a sea of mist, run wrongside-up on roofs. [laughs] Everything vampires do best.

You could have, too. [sniggers] What a waste.

TAV: You don't really have anything at all.

ASTARION: I can take anything I want. I should've made you a spawn just to teach you that.

And there we have it, that last bit of dialogue shows how Astarion is now everything he hated about his own master. He is Cazador's literal and spiritual successor, he thinks you need to be punished for rejecting him. He doesn't feel for you anymore, at least not in a human way. He has become someone else entirely, for the worst. His drive for taking the power of the rite was to be able to walk in the sun again but as a full vampire, he wants to "dominate it (the world) until the sun melts and give ourselves over to the night."

Astarion NEEDS change, he needs to see that the world can be a kinder place than the one he's lived in this whole time. Just a bit of care and love with him goes a long way. In his spawn ending, he comes to realise that you gave him his life back even if it was as a spawn because that is true freedom. He is free from his master, and greed & power which was in the disguise of safety. He may never be able to walk in the sun, but he is free to make his own decisions that are driven by his choices. One of them being; wanting and loving you, living a full life with you, whatever that may entail.

If you went into the game thinking that Astarion will betray you no matter what then giving him the ascendant ending brings your fears to life. Astarion doesn't learn anything, by making him a full vampire, you basically tell him that he can only be powerful and worth something if he has super vampire powers, and in turn, you lose everything too. Astarion may have gained unparralled strength but now he has no need of you, you gave him everything he wanted and nothing he needed so now he can do whatever he wants with you because you are lesser than him, literally, he is much stronger than you are and his power will only grow as he discovers more of it. He tries to manipulate you into turning you into a spawn. A dialogue being:

TAV: After everything you went through with Cazador, you're going to make me a spawn?

ASTARION: Oh that was completely different, I'd never hurt you. I love you. That's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? That's what you want?

Which just shows you how he's only saying "I love you" because that's what you want to hear, so you agree to becoming his spawn. He doesn't mean it, it doesn't really have any feeling behind it whatsoever. And if he turns you into a spawn, you have basically lost everything. Because he is obsessive over you, he'll never let you go and since now he is properly evil, he likely won't turn you into a vampire either, even if he says he will.

This is just my take on the ending though, I think we can all agree the ascendant ending is the evil ending for his character, even if it is an ending you prefer. I'm not trying to hate on anyone who does like this ending, only stating that I think it is meant to be evil and I personally don't like it.

CONCLUSION

Once you get to truly know Astarion, he's a pretty decent guy. I can't speak much for people who didn't romance him, I'm not entirely sure how his non-romance route plays out. The good conclusion of his quest is so wholesome, where he says he feels "truly, honestly free" and tells you "you saved me from myself. This is a gift, you know, thank you. I won't forget it." getting full circle to the first time you let him bite you (the only time in my case.) It shows so much character development and pure joy in the way he thanks you (it doesn't need to be said but props to Neil Newbon for bringing the character to life.) He will always be a spawn and yet, he feels like "anything and everything is possible" because of you and the choices you made with him, you believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, you showed him that he is enough just the way he is and he doesn't need to become a full vampire to be strong and powerful. Astarion comes out of his finale, a much more positive person, who actually cares even if he won't show it and the best part is, he always keeps that tiny streak of evil and mischief within him. He hasn't lost sight of himself, he's just less spiteful now and feels free to actually enjoy life rather than constantly being scared of what might happen to him. He finds trust and happiness in you and it makes him happy that you find the same within him. You are his home and he hopes he is yours.

I understand that my analysis may not be perfect and my interpretation of the character may be different from someone else's but that's fine, he is a video game character that can be played so many ways and people can go around it however they like, interpret his character however they wish. This is just what I think.

NOTES

'Astarion needs your guidance.' - no, this is not gaslight-y. Astarion is a deeply troubled character and clearly finds it hard to differentiate between right and wrong. He often asks for your input and what you think by Act 2 which isn't a bad thing, he's asking for help and I think that shows how far he's come. In the final scene of his quest, he is overcome by the promise of power and the safety it would've provided which would've consumed him as it did Cazador, Astarion admits to this himself too later on once he can think clearly and is in a more positive mindset. There is nothing wrong with guiding your partner towards something that will eventually be better for their growth as a person in the long run.

[crimsonender]

Why do you care so much about Lily Orchard

Actually getting this a little backwards. I took notice of Lily Orchard as an individual earlier this year, back in January to March, when she was listed amongst a series of trans creators that are unfairly scrutinized. As she was the only one who had a Tumblr at the time I began following her because I wanted to basically spite transphobes. I've come under fire myself for being trans in the past.

What I discovered in the months I followed her is that she had awful takes and was really dismissive and sometimes outright mean to her fans. I went to a live stream or two, and I watched a couple videos. I soon became critical of her, and decided to do some research. This lead me to Hiding in Private and Sai Scribbles. At the time, I was focused on Lily being a bad YouTuber, both in terms of content and how she treated her fans.

I knew that no one else was going to cover her video on the Coffin of Andy and Leyley because most people dismiss this gothic horror game as problematic and incestuous. As a fan of the genre and the game itself I decided to cover the video. Then as a spur of the moment decision at the end of that stream I decided to cover her latest Kingdom Hearts video as well. This would turn into a an edited video later on where I was very insistant on not focusing on Lily's actions and the allegations. I was mostly concerned with her rhetoric and behaviour as a YouTuber, because I had been wanting to talk about media analysis for a long time. As you can see from my coverage on MatPat, Anita Sarkiseen, Anthony Gramgulia, and iDubbbz. I think there is something fundamentaly flawed with the way the modern internet analyzes media. Each of these individuals has contributed negatively to this rhetoric in their own way, but where people like Anthony and iDubbbz and even Sarkiseen have tried to improve (and in Anthony's case a large reason for the majority of his writing that is worthy of criticism was how he was editorialized by the publications he worked for) Lily has always doubled down and gotten worse. Moreover my biggest issue with Lily right now is how she interacts with her fandom, which is unique to her. She has been publically very sexual towards them, she encourages anti-intellectualism, has a history of abuse, so yeah that definitely is a factor. My last two videos were less about her media analysis and more about how she interacts with her audience and the world around her. I think people like Lily are dangerous.

I don't hate everyone I cover. I'm friends with Anthony and I like his videos and style of writing. He's not perfect but he's also very open to criticism. iDubbbz I'm not a big fan of but for the most part I'm fairly indifferent to. MatPat's videos while I'm highly critical of them, are somewhat of a guilty pleasure for me and I've been watching him since he released his first Starfox video. Sarkiseen I am more critical of but acknowledge she was one of the first people to make videos about feminism in modern media on the scale she was doing it. I wouldn't say anything these people are doing is dangerous.

If Lily was just some woman on the internet with a bad opinion then I probably wouldn't care. It's Lily's control over such a large number of people that worries me. Dismantling her rhetoric is how we show the people she has control over a way out. It's how we teach people that have been trained to turn their brain off that they should think for themselves. Videos like Joon the King's covering her allegations are important don't get me wrong, but unless we teach people to think for themselves, they're just going to fall for the next grifter to come along. The crux of the matter is that no one person should dictate what your opinion is based on how big of a fan you are of them. This problem is so much bigger than Lily. Lily just represents this issue to such a large degree.

[readingwithmars]

a little life — hanya yanagihara review

rating : ★★★★✮ (4.5)

started : jan 19th, 2025 / finished : feb 14th, 2025

TW: self harm, sexual abuse, suicide, homophobia

there is… a lot to unpack here. i’ve heard a lot of things about this book, some good, some bad. i also am aware that the author is very ignorant when it comes to mental health and it shows up at times in her writing but i wanted to read this book because no matter how many articles i read or youtube videos i watched on the topic of this book essentially spoiling the whole story for me, i couldn't get it out of my mind. i knew i had to read it so my brain would quiet. and i don't regret my decision. now, i have a lot of opinions on this book. it's going to be a bit messy, basically just a blurb of my thoughts but lets start first where my problems lie with this book.

firstly, as i said before, hanya yanagihara is very ignorant when it comes to mental health and even a bit pretentious from what i’ve seen in interviews. she has stated openly that she believes talk therapy does not work and that therapists should encourage suicide despite never having participated in talk therapy herself, which is an absolutely disgusting view on mental illness and therapy. she's basically implying that some people are completely unfixable and the only way to fix some people is to end their own life. i highly disagree with this, as most would. some people may not want to be fixed but that doesn't mean that they are unfixable. talk therapy does work and it is a team effort.

i also don't care for the way hanya yanagihara talks about queerness. there's one line in the book about an unnamed female character “turning lesbian” which i didn't appreciate very much. now as for willem, i understand the confusion with his own sexuality — trust me, i get it, as a queer person myself. but the fact that it was implied that he HAD to pick between gay or straight irked me. it's okay to be bisexual. that doesn't just go for willem but for anyone else reading this too. it's okay to be attracted to more than one gender.

now, i know a lot of people don't like this book because most consider its constant tragedy to be “trauma porn”. it can be heavy and hard to read and just downright tragic. not everyone wants to kick back with a book like that, to read about constant dispair and i totally understand that. especially considering the great detail some of these tragedies are described, specifically jude’s sexual abuse and self harming.

speaking of jude’s self harming, i’ve heard a lot of people think it's harmful that jude was written this way, that all depressed people are categorized into being only extremely sad, only ever wanting to inflict self harm all the time, and while i agree that not every depressed person is like this, some are. some have felt like jude. and while i do not agree with hanya yanagihara’s views of mental health and think she's extremely ignorant and close-minded, i do think she captures pain and grief very well in her writing.

now, i’m going to get into how i feel, personally, about the book. yes, i think at some points the detail is excruciating, especially the parts touching on jude’s adolescence but that aside, i actually really see myself in jude, in how he views himself and life, which is pretty damn bleak. pretty gloomy. at a lot of points in this book, when jude would get in his head, when he'd self destruct, it felt as though the words were taken right from my brain and put on paper. not only this but i loved jude and willem’s dynamic. it wasn't always healthy, but sometimes i wish i had someone like willem for myself. someone who made waking up every day worth it.

so, to put it simply, i found comfort (as wild as it may seem) in a lot of parts in this book. even though jude isn't real, i know some people relate to the way he views life and knowing i’m not alone in my own struggle with mental health is very validating.

i’ve heard some didn't like the ending but i personally did. i think the way it ended in harold’s point of view (W harold, by the way. best dad ever) was the perfect touch. i like the way the reader sees jude through harold’s eyes, as someone who loved jude unconditionally.

i’m giving the book 4.5 stars because i found myself feeling more heard and comforted than heartbroken. even if the book is not perfect, i still enjoyed it, my views on the author aside.

[captainsophiestark]

Sleight of Hand

Jimmy Woo x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Twenty-Four Prompt: "You didn't do anything wrong!"

Summary: Jimmy gets a little help from his spouse to master the card trick he saw Scott Lang do.

Word Count: 1,118

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

She cautiously stepped around the corner, coming face to face with...

I froze, my attention drifting from the book in my hands at a weird noise behind me. It sounded like some kind of fluttering, but when I didn't hear it again, I went back to my book.

...coming face to face with-

"Shoot!"

I set my book down. The noise had come again, along with something light hitting our hardwood floors before my husband, Jimmy Woo, huffed. I marked the page in my book, set it down, then turned around to look over the back of the couch.

I frowned when I saw Jimmy with one empty hand out in front of him, like he was waiting for a handshake from someone invisible. He hadn't noticed me watching him, and after a moment of intense concentration, he jerked his arm quickly like he was trying to shake something out of his sleeve. Lo and behold, a card fell out. He tried to catch it between his fingers, but he missed, and instead it fluttered to the floor.

"Argh!"

"Honey." Jimmy's head snapped up to look at me as soon as I spoke. "What are you doing?"

"It's this card trick thing... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your reading."

I shook my head, turning on the couch to face him more fully.

"It's okay. What card trick thing?"

"You remember that guy I told you about? Scott Lang?"

"The ant guy? Yeah."

"Well, the last time I checked in on him, he did this card trick where he just made a card appear in his hand, like out of nowhere. It was actually really cool, so... I've been trying to teach myself how to do it."

I stared at Jimmy for a minute, processing. He stared back. Finally, I smiled.

"Okay. Let me help."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I stood from the couch, strecthing a little before walking around to join my husband. "I need a break from all the bad decisions the main character's making in my book, anyway. Let's learn some couples closeup magic."

*****************

I'd assumed it would be a fairly easy trick to learn. Don't ask me why, but I just figured it would take us maybe an hour, tops, and we'd both be making cards appear and disappear like pros. That was very much not how it went.

A few hours after I'd first noticed Jimmy practicing, we were still watching videos and trying to do the trick slowly, quickly, and everything in between with no luck. Technically, we were doing a little better than when Jimmy had first started, but the trick was still escaping both of us.

I watched carefully as Jimmy tried to do it again, and to me, it looked perfect. But the card still dropped to the floor instead of sliding smoothly into his hand.

Jimmy sighed, shoulders slumping as he looked up at me.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong! That should've worked! What the fuck is it with this trick?"

Jimmy laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over to pick up the card again.

"I'm glad you decided to help me. I was getting pretty frustrated, but seeing how much more frustrated it's making you is weirdly making me calm."

I huffed and crossed my arms. "Glad I could help. But seriously, I feel like you're doing everything right. I can't tell what's wrong, or why it's not working."

"It has to be the finger movement," he said, setting up the card again. "I'm fumbling it when I'm obviously not supposed to."

"Frankly, I'm not convinced it's possible to pull this trick off without fumbling the card. Are you sure that Lang guy wasn't messing with you?"

Jimmy laughed again. "Pretty sure, but I guess you never know."

I just sighed as Jimmy prepared to try the trick again. I watched, but not as carefully as before. I'd been looking for some clue as to where we were going wrong for hours now, and hadn't been able to find it. Maybe it was just going to take a lot more practice, no matter how we tried to do it.

Jimmy took a deep breath, then extended his hand. I didn't see the card move, but suddenly, it appeared in his hand. Nowhere near the floor. Exactly how the trick was supposed to work.

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted, jumping up in the air the moment the shock wore off. Jimmy grinned, laughing in disbelief as he stared at the card in his hand. I didn't give him much time to savor it before tackling him with a hug. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!"

Jimmy laughed again, absolutely joyous, as he wrapped his arms around me. I pulled back a moment later, just enough to kiss him. After all that work and frustration over the past few hours, it felt amazing to see him pull off the trick perfectly.

After a moment, the two of us calmed down slightly, taking a step apart even though the gigantic grins were still on our faces. Jimmy's had more of a lopsided tilt to it, which made my heart race.

"...Do you think we're celebrating this a little too much?" he asked. I immediately shook my head.

"Hell no we're not. Do it again."

Jimmy took a deep breath, resetting the card and actually starting with his hand by his side this time. He lifted it, and in one smooth motion, the card appeared in his hand, extended towards me. I actually screamed, jumping up and down, and after a moment Jimmy joined me.

I pulled Jimmy in for another kiss, and when we finally broke apart, he was still giddy. He did the trick another few times in a row, and although he stumbled a little on one of the moves, the card still didn't hit the ground. He was getting smoother every time.

"This calls for a celebratory dinner," I decided. "I'll get something started, you grab some wine. We toast to the defeat of the magic trick that thought it could defeat us."

Jimmy laughed. "Sounds like a plan to me. Thanks for all your help. I can't wait to use that trick the next time I need to give somebody one of my cards."

"You know I'm always here for you, including and especially for stuff like this. No card trick, random guy you see at work, or Avengers-level threat can stop us."

"Damn right."

Jimmy grinned at me, and I leaned in for one last kiss before heading to the kitchen. Sometimes the smaller, less important victories felt the best, and one of my favorite things about my amazing husband was how willing he was to celebrate those moments with me.

Although, after all the time we'd spent today, this victory felt far from small.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[ganondoodle]

i am so extremely confused on how you can acknowledge belly dancing not needing to be sexual yet. still insist that nintendo is sexualizing young gerudo with the attire. the makeup, heels and how impractical it is to wear the shit they wear in the desert i understand. im not defending those design mistakes. but??? jfc.

oh. so, assuming you are the same anon as before, you WERE asking in bad faith then, or are intentionally missunderstanding what im saying, got it, and now you are trying to twist my words around to fit your little narrative about me being the problem and not mega corporation uwu nintendo with a history of racism (to which this issue is extremely attached to)

so, since you apparently didnt understand what i said, and didnt watch the video i attached either, bc that goes into detail of everything as well, im gonna spell it out once more, and i will even EMPHASIZE words like THIS, so its easier to understand, just for you <3

i did NOT say that the 'belly dance' outfit doesnt NEED to be sexual, i SAID it is/was not sexual IN ITS ORIGIN, BUT was TURNED INTO what boils down to nothing else but a sexy strippers outfit by western people and has been used as NOTHING BUT sexual for decades in the vast majority of media of all kind-

which MEANS, that although in ORIGIN it might not have been sexual, the unfortunate PROBLEM is that through its extreme popularization as such you now have to assume IT IS sexual, bc that is pretty much ALWAYS the intent, people dont even know it as anything but a sexual thing

and before you can even say the "well maybe they didnt intent it a such" blah blah, this is NOT SOLELY about the outfit itself being the only problem here, its the whole package, even if they DID have good intentions or did it subconsciously (which, mind you, should also tell you just how much this kind of picture of middle eastern people has been spread, how common it is to see them like this that its what most people actually think they are like) it nevertheless sends a certain message, and again, ITS THE WHOLE FUCKING PACKAGE, everything, from outfit, to design elements, to dialog, to lore, to even camera angles, you cannot view it as a seperate thing bc it is, inherently, not able to be seperated from everything, its as if you took an incredibly racist caricature, zoomed in and said "LOOK they used a realistic kind of skin tone, its totally not racist!!"

you also called these design decisions "mistakes", but they are not, in fact mistakes, a mistake is when you notice after posting a drawing that you forgot to color in a strand of hair, however, ALL of these design and writing decisions are deliberate, they had to sit down, in a giant team of people, to come up with it, then proceed to design and write it, approve it, make it, and ship it, and saw no problem with it, which is a problem

now, im not saying nintendo personally is telling you "its ok to fuck kids", but things have meanings, and if you are making something, ESPECIALLY using something that isnt of your own culture, you should think about things, and what meanings a thing can have attached to, they are a giant corporation, not a single, very uninformed at best- or very racist at worst, human being, they have the means to do research, but they did not do it or think its fine, maybe even good, which deserves to be called out

i am a big, and longtime, zelda fan, but beign a fan of something doesnt mean you cannot criticise it, or aknowledge that its in many ways flawed, part of being a fan is being able to recognize things that are bad and demand better

if you send me another ask spouting bullshit or purposefully missunderstanding what im saying im gonna punt you into the filthy barrel of blocked porn bots, bc i dont have anon messages enabled to receive shit like this but to allow people who might be too shy to send normal asks to talk to me.

jfc.

[woso-dreamzzz]

hate exam szn. i was late to the fateful jenni agenda day 🥲

i didn’t even realize the summary for alexia’s version was you come home and so when i read jenni’s summary—you go home—my stomach actually dropped. was like damn shots fired, feeling bad for alexia but yk she made her bed (unknowingly of course… but still)

bambi being strong and weak against alexia and feeling suffocated when she hugged her? calling out to her only to GIVE HER BACK THE TRAIN? spain without the s.

the (sort of) putellas erasure and feeling content at the thought of just being a hermoso actually hurts 😭 i’ve lowkey wanted this outcome the entire series and now that it’s here i’m sobbing. getting the “worst traits” from alexia and thinking she’d have let bambi stay if she were good at football oh my. jenni having always supported bambi’s interest in ballet feels right though. do you think jenni ever posts about it (perhaps not bambi’s face specifically, more so things related to bambi and to ballet) with so much pride and it gets back to alexia like a slap to the face? or even eli/alba visiting in mexico to watch a big recital and eli’s posts are more private so there are just videos on top of videos of bambi dancing—how does alexia react to all of this? alexia makes the decision that jenni’s better for bambi, but do you ever think she hates that fact? does it ever frost her relationship with jenni?

i was also wondering how olga reacts to bambi leaving. does this mean there’s never a true relationship between the two? bambi wouldn’t get a lot of time with alexia so i feel like alexia would inadvertently push olga to the side when bambi’s here. is olga just jaume’s mother? do you think bambi ever reflects on the fact that the addition of olga into bambi’s life was definitely a turning point? (so many questions omg… sorry) does jenni ever speak about olga and alexia in a bitter sense? does alba ever confront olga as well?

i hope that bambi’s a little more expressive of her feelings with jenni in this alternate outcome. the “so’s mine” and no one hears… the guinea pig comment too. bambi i’m getting you out of all the pain you’ve ever endured. i hope that she’s able to (in both outcomes) overcome this fear of speaking up for herself… because she won’t be able to realize that none of this was her fault if she doesn’t express she feels this way 🥲

also: holy shit. the mami never wanted you to you think mami is special to you know she’ll be the best mami in the world to jaume too LASHED ME W SO MUCH PAIN. SPAIN WITHOUT THE S. bambi’s always held alexia to the highest regard and despite her experiences alexia is never hated/despised. this might be a result of unreliable narrating given bambi’s reflection of her family and “how things are” are most definitely influenced by how she feels… but bambi thinking she was lucky alexia loved her ENOUGH to look after her until someone else could. NOT EVEN CARE FOR HER. look after. pain. her reflection of jenni always having loved her cements my feelings towards my internal jenni/alexia debate. (it’s always favoured jenni) of course alexia never meant for this to happen… “this” meaning bambi (from the beginning she’s faced difficulty on if she even wanted to go through with the pregnancy) but also this as in what’s occurred to bambi in general. to me though, alexia had full autonomy to end the pregnancy. she chose to have bambi. to me that signifies consenting to take on the responsibilities of a parent, and alexia failed that. though people make mistakes… this was dragged on and obviously has long-lasting consequences and haunts not just her, but bambi too. jenni’s constant and unwavering love for bambi hopefully will mend this trauma and heal her from the pain she’s been put through at such a young age

honestly after all this, even if i feel for alexia and we see how happy she is to get bambi back… we see more of how affected bambi’s been in this situation—and if we think about it, this is how bambi feels when she’s not forcing herself to accept alexia’s love especially when it feels so foreign. it matters that alexia tried but i think that train being broken was symbolic of her relationship with bambi… even when olga mended it it’d never be enough—it’s broken now and bambi hands back the new train (the one that should’ve been her birthday present) and to me that feels like bambi passing on this sort of responsibility to alexia with regard to jaume. this is a new train (a new child) and bambi wishes for alexia to take care of it and not break it the way she broke bambi.

still crying though. i love this series. thank you for always choosing the most painful words and sharing such a nuanced story <3 sorry for all the long rambles! there should probably be a feature to hide my asks bc i feel like it must be annoying have to scroll through it if you don’t want to read it 😭 you are the best though and everything you write is always a pleasure to read <33333

ps. princesse’s “mapi who doesn’t play football” HC is my most favourite. mapi’s the most supportive tattoo-acquiring, stray cat feeding girlfriend in the world and ingrid deserves nothing less

another ps. the first time i met my youngest sibling i lifted the blanket and got punched in the nose too. cub i love u <3

Long anon! I missed you! 😘

Bambi giving Alexia back the train was being planned for so long. It was always going to happen. It was just a matter of time that I put it in somewhere.

Jenni definitely posts about Bambi. She's such a proud Mama. She's careful with it though. None of the pics on her actual account fully show Bambi's face but she'll show Bambi's face on her story. There's countless photos of Bambi showing off her new ballet shoes (and then her pointe shoes when she's old enough to have them) and there's so many of the back of Bambi's head surrounded by her trains.

Eli definitely has more freedom in posting about Bambi because her account is private. She adores Bambi and practically all of her recitals end up on Eli's account, where Alexia usually gets her unfiltered information about Bambi from.

Olga and Bambi only really have a foundation of a relationship, the one that was made in the hospital, and it kind of stays that way. It develops a little bit as Bambi gets older but not much. Olga is mainly Jaume's mama and Alexia's partner. As Bambi grows up, she definitely comes to understand that her life changed the day that Alexia and Olga sat her down to talk about giving her a sibling.

Jenni doesn't really like to talk about Alexia and Olga to Bambi. She doesn't want to remind Bambi of them because she knows she's going to bitter about them so she just doesn't talk about them. Alba doesn't really confront Olga about anything. Her main job was getting Bambi out of that situation and she's done that now. She does keep a careful watch for the same warning signs for Jaume just in case.

Also about the train symbolism. The Bambi Train was ceramic. It looks strong but it's actually so fragile (Alexia dropped it and it completely shattered) while the Jaume Train is a proper model train. It's actually strong and if someone drops it, there's not going to be a lot of damage. It kind of signifies Alexia as a parent. She got a lot wrong with Bambi and she knows that but in the end, she ended up shattering the train (she broke their relationship). But with Jaume's train (and his and Alexia's relationship now and in the future) has stronger foundations and can take a few mistakes along the way without ruining it. Alexia has changed as a parent and giving Bambi to Jenni makes her want to be the best parent she can be to Jaume so neither of her kids have to suffer again.

I love reading your long rambles and I was so excited this morning to wake up and see you in my inbox again! I've got a few more parts of Injured stocked up with the first appearance of teen!Bambi that I'm so excited about!

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Hiii, miss me?

Now you want to kiss me (or have to? Wasn't there a song like that?)

This month my blog turned two years old. I got the notification in my email. Last year I made an entire celebration post by publishing the funniest/ridiculous asks I got. There were good times back then. Still. Not so much afterwards.

I wasn't the nicest presence in the last few months leading to me abandoning the blog. And I wasn't too discreet about it. Although there was more to it, a lot more. But I'll get there.

First things first. Why am I here when on the 24th of March I dramatically declared that I'm leaving forever? Well, that was a very emotionally-charged post and the result of a few factors. I'm not entirely proud of how I made my exit, but it's also a true reflection of my personality so there's no point in making excuses. Nevertheless, I will explain as much as I can (I still care about privacy, just like before).

On that Friday, I woke up excited. I took a day off from work (yes...I know), I listened to Face, watched the music video. All good. But I was also dreading a bit having to come here because I knew there was this expectation of me to come up with some thought-provoking analysis, say something smart and all that. I was exhausted on all levels, emotionally and intellectually. I had also promised to leave after the promotions were over, somewhere in the middle of April (who would have thought it would last 9 days? Not me), but the plans changed. Not to drag it too much, but on that day I also officially announced to some concerned parties that I'm changing career paths. You know, just something I thought I'd be doing until the day I die and I've been working towards for at least 10 years. No big deal. I was planning on doing it anyway, but actually saying the words and make it real is a different story. I felt extatic, full of adrenaline, so happy with my decision and at that moment, it felt the right time to close BMT. It was somehow directly connected. I made the blog as an escape and now I got the opportunity to turn the page over. It was perfect. Best day ever. I clicked post, I logged out, and then I sat. And after a while, the reality of my decisions hit me in the face. And I felt sad and empty because what the hell am I doing now and what is my identity? I closed my blog too which was my main hobby. And so followed some difficult days. And then it got better. And then bad again. And so on, because it's a roller coaster.

The thing is, I can change my interests, but I can't stop myself from being opinionated. And getting excited. And wanting to talk about it. And share all that on a public platform with some strangers that are interested in what I have to say. Or they used to. It's who I am.

This blog won't remain Bangtan Media Thoughts because I want more than that. I will rebrand this page. I could start fresh with a new blog, but this is still my space and I know some people were interested in reading about other things as well from me, not just BTS. I hope I can built something from that.

The blog won't reflect only a specific niche of interests, but everything that I like in terms of pop culture. From movies, music, fashion, gossip, you name it. Including Kpop. And if I feel the need to rant about Hybe after talking about Ryan Gosling's Ken, I will. Same about JM, JK or whoever I feel like it. If there is a good advice that I got in the last few months, is to adapt and not force myself to abandon something completely. Because it's not as easy as it sounds. And to be honest, it was easier to give up smoking than completely lose interest in kpop. It's a habit. Perhaps this new blog will reflect the way I try to deal with that. A bit more honestly, a little less discourse, certainly less essays because I don't have them in me at the moment. But never say never. This blog will be all me, not just BMT.

I will change the name and url 24h after I post this. This will be an opportunity for all my followers to decide if they want to stay or they are not interested in the new direction. Feel free to do as you please. I welcome new people and greet the old ones who didn't hit unfollow for some reason.

It will go like this:

Bangtan Media Thoughts > Reflections in a Critical Eye

New theme, new profile photo, new beginnings.

All the old posts will still be here. I don't plan on deleting anything. They are all a product of me and my brain and they have their place. I'll probably pin some new posts these days that have to do with the rebranding. It will be like a construction site, but it will be worth it.

One last thing though. After I abruptly left, I received some DMs. I saw them back then. I do feel sorry about those who wanted to check in with me or with whom I used to talk regularly. But I do hope that some of the things I said today will explain my behavior. I also won't start communicating again like that, at least for now. I always felt a bit pressured and I'm not the best at maintaining conversations in private. If that changes, I'll make that clear.

That's it for now. I'm excited. I feel like writing again so here's to another chapter.

My inbox is open and will be, just as usual. No more messages to BMT, but you can call me M. Like in the Bond movies 😉

[alphabetboyluvr]

WIP TAG GAME

rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips

tagged by: @btsgotjams27

tag: literally anyoneeee who sees this!! lemme see ur work he he (tag me in it!!)

PUBLISHED: BD 42, THROTTLE 4, OTTE WIPS: BD 49, OTTE 2, MONSOON

PUBLISHED WORK

BAD DECISIONS - #42 (x)

"You sound just like him."

If you thought Jungkook looked devastated before, then you've no idea how to describe the way he falls apart now.

Though he remains on his feet, body strong, his eyes sink into a darkness you've never known. His posture slopes. Everything about him reduces like wood to ash in the midst of a forest fire. 'Anguish' sounds far too violent for the gentle way in which Jungkook quietly crumbles, but it's the only thing that's remotely apt for his current expression.

"Don't compare me to him," he says. Swallows. "It's not fair."

But love and war never is.

"Don't do the same shit he did," you counter. "Then maybe I won't."

THROTTLE - 4 (x)

“Hey,” he calls through, his voice muffled slightly through the sliding partition doors. The glass is frosted, but you can make out his silhouette as he kicks his shoes off by the door. “Just been on a job. Emergency at an office building downtown. Some bad wires. Tripped.”

The lies roll off his tongue like butter in a hot pan. They sizzle. Spit. Burn you and scar you with the portrayal of a man who isn’t who he pretends to be.

Thing is, Jungkook is exactly who he pretends to be.

He really does get too hot in the night, and genuinely does find videos of kids falling over far funnier than he knows he should. His hair sticks up on end when he wakes up, and he loves his car more than life itself. The way he winces after taking shots, and his dimples, which form in moments of contemplation beneath his cheeks, are entirely natural to him.

None of it - none of him - is a lie. At his core, Jungkook is the idea in your head; the yellow of midafternoon sun before it sets.

He’s the amber light that flashes before fading into red. 

That’s his issue, though. Inevitably, he will always, unavoidably, turn red.

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES (x)

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

WIPS

BAD DECISIONS - #49

He thinks he’s subtle. Thinks you’re none the wiser. Believes he’s good at hiding how he feels about it all.

Or at least he does, until you start laughing, “It’s one night, Kook. You can survive without me for a night.”

“No, I don’t actually think I can,” he replies without missing a beat, decidedly needy in his lack of denial. “In fact, I think I might-“

“You’re not gonna die,” you smile, reaching out for his hand. He doesn’t resist as you pull his knuckles to your lips, pressing a pretty little kiss upon them, then lowering them to your lap. Your clasp is warm. Welcome. Just like home. “It’s just a night-“

“Just a night,” he echoes, before arguing against you. “Just a night where you’re gonna look all fancy and nice, and I’m gonna have to watch another man taking you to bed-“

“He’s not taking me to bed!”

“Well, then he’s a fool.”

OTTE - #2

Because Jungkook doesn’t care how good you make him feel.

He doesn’t care how comfortable he is with you.

Doesn’t care that he buries himself inside you like it’s the only grave he’ll ever need.

He wants danger. Adventure. To constantly be moving and changing and evolving. Hates who he is, and somehow thinks he’ll love the person he’ll grow to be.

And so even though you’re safe – home – he doesn’t want that.

He wants new beds. New tastes.

Even if he returns home in the morning unfulfilled and disappointed, it still beats spending the night in his own room. Gives him a story to tell. A life experience.

He won’t remember their names. Their faces. How they felt, or the scent of their perfume. Will one day be just a notch in his bedpost.

But you’ll be mentioned at family dinners – How’s she doing? Did she get the job she applied for? – and Jungkook will forever remember the sound of the tiny bell on your anklet as you used to run up and down the hallways of your shared accommodation. He’ll recognise your perfume in a crowded subway station, and whenever he’s alone at night, restless and in need of sleep, he’ll always think of you.  

Come the morning, and a new tinder match is saying hello, he’ll forget you again.

Because they’ll be new, and exciting, and ever so nice, and the kind of girl he’d be lucky to have but–god damnit–they’ll never be you.

He met you too soon. Both of you know it. Both of you struggle with it.

MONSOON

elemental magic au - jjk x oc

“Oi,” Jungkook barks when Yoongi ignores him. “Hand it over.”

It’s always the same. Sometimes the colour changes, and more often than not the gas volume varies, but it’s always the same shitty brand of plastic lighter, with the same identifying initials written on the side of it. Fuckin’ idiot.

With a displeased frown on his face, Yoongi shrugs as Jungkook pockets yet another one of his lighters. “I’ll just buy another.”

“Try it,” Jungkook laughs. “I’ll get you banned from every fuckin’ convenience store in our part of the city if you’re not careful.”

And now Yoongi smiles too. “Gyu would never turn me away.”

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Beomgyu'll most definitely turn Yoongi away from the convenience store he works at if Jungkook tells him to - but he’ll also smuggle the lighters home for Yoongi, regardless. 

“Gyu’ll do whatever I tell him to do,” Jungkook assures Yoongi. “Kid doesn’t need to get wrapped up in your little schemes.”

[ohchosen]

AUTHOR PORTRAIT ... get to know the author behind the blog! repost, don't reblog !

BASICS

NAME:        val AGE:         24 PRONOUNS:         she / they YEARS OF WRITING:          ok how specific are we talking. because i can say like circa 2010 i was on facebook writing bad twilight fanfiction + rp ( which then progressed into bad thg fanfiction ) or i can say elementary school and my little short stories i was always ad - libbing. regardless, it's definitely something i've had a knack for my whole life and it was literally just a matter of time before i found out about rp. and yes before you ask it was my personal facebook. when i was 11. that had all of my relatives added. yes they saw it. years writing on tumblr is different and i think i jumped ship and found out about tumblr rp around 2012 / 2013 and with that came my first formative decision which was to watch supernatural. you know where this is going. yes it was bad. no i'm not showing anyone.

REFLECTION

WHY DID YOU PICK UP WRITING?           i needed a hobby and had unrestricted internet access. i kind of answered this in the question before so jokes on me blah blah blah but without getting too personal i had a very difficult time in school with mental health and tumblr, known weird kid haven, was my little safe space where i could freely pursue what i enjoyed and was really my first venture into fandom spaces. i started in the supernatural rpc [ horror music ] and slowly meandered my way through book fandoms, to animanga, and finally settled on the video game community where i've been good and SAT for like six years now.

DO YOU HAVE ANY WRITING ROUTINES?          not necessarily. it's a miracle if i'm able to sit down long enough to open up my drafts and get going, but if i can lock in i'm all set. i find it hard to listen to music while writing because my brain cannot separate the two and i will accidentally start writing down the lyrics but i've never actually considered tuning into instrumentals so ,, thank you vos. writing that down............

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT WRITING?         stealing from vos in stealing answer solidarity but the rp community aspect. it can be awful and exhausting as some of us know good and well but it can also be incredible depending on who you surround yourself with. it's so validating finding people who share your little niche interest or even niche - er pairing ( hi vos ) and then to just completely devolve into sending memes and posts and screaming until 2 am in dms. i've met so many of my closest friends through rp, and stealing vos' answer again, but the characters i write who turn out the most developed are those who have been shared with friends. noctis would be nowhere near as fleshed out as he is if not for the people i met in the ff fandom all those years ago.

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING.         oughhghh, um. i'm bad at taking compliments and even worse at complimenting myself so bare with me.

i've definitely grown a lot in terms of style and prose, and i'm actually pretty happy with what i'm able to spit out in terms of aesthetic styling as compared to even a few years ago. one of my biggest insecurities ( that still pops up here and again mind you ) was never being able to match length, and i was in the worst writers' block for a few years that i finally managed to escape out of around 2020 and now i can confidently say i'm writing more regularly than i ever have. so to answer the question: it has been my personal growth in my writing and it turning into something i can be confident in and proud of.

i really do enjoy the mundanity of editing my replies. i love to see the progress i make edit by edit and how cohesive and put together a piece of writing becomes the longer i work on it. i fully 100% devote myself to one reply at a time, which is a nightmare for quantity but sooooooo rewarding if it means i can put something out to the best of my ability and not stress myself out worrying about whatever else i owe. i am a self appointed slowpoke, and i've learned over the years to not let myself feel guilty about that because as long as it can become something i devote time on and put effort into, then it really shouldn't bother me how long it takes.

three things is too much to ask for lets all just walk away slowly.

A QUESTION FOR THE NEXT PERSON

HAVE  YOU  MADE  ANY  STRONG  CONNECTIONS  /  FRIENDS DURING YOUR TIME WRITING?          i'm pretty sure this question was intended for vos only but its way too late now and i've already written your accolades so you have to deal with it. this post is just going to be exceptionally long now.

vos @stagehunt my right hand man who has been with me for every gacha related poor financial decision. everything you said i'm literally sending right back to you. i knew no one in that fandom and was in way out of my depth before stumbling across you and your blog. i am so thankful we crossed paths and shoved our little barbie dolls together and said kiss because developing, and i mean really developing tomo would not have happened without your input. at this point you definitely deserve writing credits on him too because the way he turned out would be nowhere near the same if not for your influence. i've had a blast experiencing genshin's story with you and knowing without fail you'll be thinking the exact same thing whenever hyv fumbles the bag again, and yes. one day i GUESS i'll play more than 7 hours of hsr. luv u xoxo.

plum, @sherez, my love, my heart. it's crazy how fast the years have flown by and now all of a sudden i've known you since 2018??? i still remember seeing you from afar on ez and always being blown away by how much love and devotion you put into your characters. we are quite literally bonded for life after surviving the [ redacted ] rpc and i can't think of anyone better to come out beside than you. you can't get rid of me bitch!!!!!!!!! the amount of effort and care i've seen you throw into v, and how far she's come in terms of development blows me away. she is easily one of the best written characters i've ever had the pleasure of reading and i am so excited to keep following her growth. besides how freakishly talented you are, it's astonishing how much we have in common. bc who tf else would i be talking to about forgotten mcr lore in the year of our lord 2024. if no one got me, i know plum got me. booket....... booket for my sweety.......

lu @tactition its crazy how in the short little time we've spent together how much i've bonded with u. if i got down on one knee and pulled out a ring would u say yes.... my yaoi soulmate........ its INSANE how well our character Types (tm) mesh together, and i know karma is coming with its kiss for me when i finally download nier and have to atone for what i put u thru when i made you play final fantasy. please be gentle with me im delicate........... real talk tho.. you have so quickly become such an important person in my daily life and i literally feel myself go !!!! whenever i see a new dm from you because i know its always gonna be good. your character takes blow me away and even for myself who's nearly 7 years deep into the final fantasy scene, it amazes me how you still manage to shed light and new perspective on characters i've known for years. let’s kiss freaky style.

i've very much condensed my little bubble into people i actually want to surround myself with atp, and there's always a handful of mutuals on every blog that i don't necessarily talk to but who have been with me for years now so. sorry you can't leave or i'll become a danger to myself and others. kisses :*

WHERE DO YOU DRAW THE MOST INSPIRATION FROM? this is definitely a muse - specific question since it varies from character to character. with noctis specifically, it's mostly music. i have a few different playlists for him after writing him for so long, and while i can't listen while i write they all offer different types of mood setting for him. other times, its media involving fantasy tropes or characters that have similar struggles to him, off the top of my head ( and something i connected early on ) is the character u.enoyama r.itsuka from given. there's a lot i could say here regarding which aspects i took inspiration from but the majority was the similar personality he has to noctis, the internal thought process he offered when i read the manga, and the way he struggled with his sexuality that struck the loudest chord. don't quote me on any of that since i haven't been caught up with given for like 5 years now but !!!!! yeah the end.

NEW QUESTION: how do you relate to your character personally? are there any overt similarities to the two of you?

tagged by @stagehunt my lover..... tagging - @lunabrae @tactition @sherez

[moviemunchies]

Right! Back to the dystopian action.

[Side note: I watched this on YouTube, free with ads. I still don’t recommend it, because it puts ads at really weird places (like it does with all videos). None of them were as frustrating as the time I watched Solomon Kane, but still a bit annoying.]

Katniss has been recruited by the rebels of District 13 after escaping the Hunger Games and her home District being bombed out by the Capitol. But she’s not just called to fight–President Coin of District 13 and Plutarch Heavensbee want to make Katniss into the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion, to help inspire their p people and rally the citizens of the Districts into open rebellion against the Capitol. Of course, Katniss has complex feelings about that, and she also wants to rescue Peeta, who was left behind in the Capitol–and it turns out! Has been brainwashed into becoming President Snow’s mouthpiece! Ohes noes!

In the wake of the Harry Potter film series, every young adult film series and massive blockbuster type made the questionable decision to split their final installments into two parts. The result is often a third film that’s almost entirely set up for a fourth film that’s almost entirely action sequences. I was worried about that going into this movie, but I didn’t find it too egregious. It is a problem, on reflection–there are a lot of sequences of hunkering in the bunkers that could have been shortened or cut. But it didn’t feel like the cliffhanger for this movie was any more abrupt than the ending of Catching Fire.

I thought that an interesting aspect of this movie is how much it focuses on media and propaganda. The rebellion doesn’t want Katniss to just go out and lead troops in battle and shoot all the bad guys (though I don’t know if that’d mind that), they want her to film public service announcements about how much the Capitol sucks. Which of course, doesn’t work, because Katniss isn’t an actress. Haymitch points out that the best way to capture her being inspirational is to let her just do her thing. But this also means putting Katniss in rough situations and pointing cameras at her to see what she does.

I don’t know, I feel like a lot of movies (or other , especially movies involving rebellions, don’t talk about the aspect of public relations. I liked that take on the subject.

Still, that also means that there aren’t that many action sequences. Which is fine, but apparently that’s a sticking point for many–that they wanted to see more of the war itself. It didn’t bother me much because I think many people don’t like thinking about how little of a war is actually, y’know, combat compared to other considerations, but I’ll admit it is also a little annoying that they’re probably going to pack the next movie with more action sequences and so this one will seem quite boring by comparison. I’ll let you know if that holds out to be true when I get to the second part.

Performances are great across the board, but I can’t help but miss President Snow. He’s not in this movie that much; which is a shame because he’s loads of fun to watch. He’s a bastard, but he’s an entertaining bastard.

That being said, while  I think that Jennifer Lawrence’s performances are good, it isn’t always fun to watch, because you have scenes of Katniss trying to act, and Katniss isn’t good at acting. So yeah, in-universe, it works, but it’s still a bit cringey to watch. 

It’s fine, but I don’t know if I will feel the same after the second part. And this is a thing that I hate about this whole ‘Part 1-Part 2’ thing Hollywood used to do. I watch a movie, and then I have an opinion, but then it turns out that it’s an incomplete opinion because the story’s not meant to be taken on its own.

[Then why did you write a movie review for just half a movie? Well, because I got over halfway through writing this before I came to this realization.]

So I didn’t mind this film being a bit slower, but it IS a bit slower, and I can’t help but think that I can’t make a final judgment. Right now, it’s fine, and the movie’s enjoyable enough, especially if you’ve been keeping track of the story thus far. But we’ll have to see if it all comes together well in the final installment.

Especially because the actor playing the major character Plutarch Heavensbee, Philip Seymoue Hoffman, died after filming his parts for this movie?

[hangonimevolving]

The Horror Movie - Part 2

I actually am not a fan of horror movies. Just don't love the genre.

But, alas.... this fall, I found myself LIVING OUT a real life horror movie. No, I'm not exaggerating. And I'm gonna be honest here and say that even now, nearly 3 months later, even in my normal day to day life - every so often, I get a flash in my mind, a snapshot back to the horror movie I lived through. Photo snapshots, or short bursts of cinematic video clips, just to remind me that the world is different than it used to be. I am seeing a therapist about this (heh, here it is - I'm just gonna let it all hang out). She says I have PTSD. Like, the real thing, not just using that as a buzzword for being stressed out.

Okay, so what happened. I'm gonna tell you. Note: I am going to copy/paste this narrative from a few places, because I had to recount this story at least 3 dozen times - via text message, WhatsApp, emails, etc. to say nothing of more phone calls than I can count. So, I've written it many, many times and have it availabe to copy/paste. But I'll be adding in some info here wherever I feel is relevant.

My family has endured a living nightmare.  Around 10:30 am on Monday 10/28, my dad stepped out of his house for a morning walk in his neighborhood (normal for him).  But - as of 12:30, he hadn’t returned yet.  Dr. Spouse and I were at the grocery store on a rare/unique day off from work for him - we'd had a pleasant walk in our own neighborhood that morning, and we decided to be organized for once and go grocery shopping together b/c we had discussed some meal planning, and were getting excited about a health kick. I'd finally gotten back into running nearly ever morning for the last 6 weeks, and we were both doing well with diet and exercise.

But then, we get this call while I'm in the produce aisle, and any positivity/optimism - nay, any focus on ourselves - instantly evaporates. My dad only goes walking for about 45 mins usually, so my mom got concerned and called me to see if he’d turned up at my house or something.  Long story short - the day snowballed into a frantic search for him, with me, my mom, and Brijesh driving around our entire town looking for him.  We called the cops and they launched a full-blown Missing Persons protocol, complete with police helicopters, a K-9 unit, and a Drone Search unit, and about 10-20 deputies circulating in/around my parents’ house for most of that 24 hours.  

Note: "snowballing". That's how I summarized it in my emails to people. But here, I'm gonna elaborate. This "day snowballing" thing is a euphemism for an infinite, agonizing string of little heartbreaking and anxiety-flooded moments, each one horrifying in its own right. The first one is my initial reaction to my mom that maybe she was getting worried and worked up for nothing, and wanting to call the cops around 12:00 pm that day - okay, at that point, he had been gone from 10:30-12 noon, but perhaps he was somewhere perfectly okay and safe. At least, that's what I thought. After all, just a month before, he'd had an incident and had said he wouldn't take off on long walks like that anymore. I thought it was premature to call the cops and set into a motion a whole THING. It would leave a record, they'd be on some sort of list for senior citizen welfare checks... I didn't know for sure, but I felt like it would be a big thing and what if it was all for nothing? I wasn't convinced we needed to take that step at that point. But then, the trickle-truth started. She then admitted, they'd had a little tiff that morning and he'd taken off in a bad mood - intentionally. This IRRITATED me to no end. How immature. But, I told her, "give him a chance to make the right decision." Surely he'd learned from the other thing last month? But in the next hour or two, she shared that at home, she'd found his phone, Apple Watch, wallet with ID and all credit cards.... and that in their cash envelope they keep at home, there was only about $120 missing. Now - the light bulb was going on that he had done this intentionally. Alarm bells. It was only at this point that I told her, okay, let's call the police. My logical brain tells me, my initial hesitation to call the police was totally not an under-reaction. I didn't know all the facts initially, and even so - I was giving him the benefit of the doubt, taking his words at face-value that he wouldn't make irrational decisions about exertion. But I was wrong. We initiated the whole police thing around maybe 1:15-1:30, so we lost about an hour or so of time. Would it have made a difference? That's the part I keep circulating around.....

Another pearl in the string of anxiety of that time: Waiting at the bus stop in my car for Dey to come home from school at exactly 2 pm, and suddenly becoming aware of the whirr of helicopter blades high above my head - - throwing open the sunroof of my car to realize there is a police chopper in the sky, looking for MY DAD. Like, what.

(sidetone: it is at this point I'm gonna start peppering my blog post with weird pictures, many of which are screenshots from footage from the dash cam of my car. Weird snapshots that capture the bizarre horror movie that my mind keeps replaying)

Telling Dey to put on his seat belt, because today, instead of going home, we are going for a drive. "To where?!" he asks suspiciously, because this is not the norm for us. I am thinking on my feet, and have no plan - "UHHH, to Starbucks!" I blurt out. What?! I never go to Starbucks. But in that flash of a moment, I think - what if Dad is at Starbucks? We drive to Starbucks, but make a string of ridiculous pit stops and detours on the way, and the entire time I am convinced Dey is suspicious and on to me that something is going on - but my heart is breaking in real time and I don't know how to tell him from the driver's seat of my car that his grandfather is missing and might be dead. So we stop at Walgreens "to look for posterboard" (?!)

and we do a long and asinine "detour" to Starbucks (makes no sense based on the routing) through a nearby neighborhood "to look at Halloween decorations", and all kinds of things.

(Photo of some impressive Halloween decorations that we saw on this random drive. Random photo for this story though? yes. But it's part of the Horror Movie highlight reel that keeps playing in my mind, so I'm sharing it with you, and now you know too.)

We wind up eventually at Starbucks -but then, to my horror, I see that there are no fewer than four police squad cars outside of the Starbucks, and my heart flies into a panic. Have they found him?! Or worse, have they not? And what do I do with this child in my backseat if I'm about to get bad news?!!! I throw the car in park, put on the hazards, and tell him to stay right there because I'm gonna buy him a cake pop (?!) and then I LEAVE MY CHILD IN THE CAR while I run like a maniac into Starbucks, only to find two cops in there but no Dad.

I talk to them for a few moments, tell them who I am ("I'm the daughter of the Missing Person"... and inside, mentally to myself, "Oh my god, I'm the daughter of the Missing Person") and after a few moments hearing their plan, the places they've looked, the places they're gonna look, making sure EVERY single one of them has my personal name and phone number as well as Dr. Spouse's, and AirDropping a more recent photo of my dad to them than the one they have (HIS DRIVER'S LICENSE photo which is at least 10 years old and in which he is at least 30 pounds heavier and has dyed hair) - I get back to my abandoned child with a cake pop. He asks me what has taken so long, and again I'm just paralyzed. And right there, in the Starbucks parking lot, with a raccoon-shaped cake pop in my baby's hand, I have to find the words to tell him that I'm sorry I've been acting weird, and actually, there's something going on today.... and I tell him what has happened. And I cringe. And absurd thoughts fill my mind. Is he traumatized? Is he scared? Have I officially created a core memory for him where forevermore, cake pops will be associated with shock and grief?? It's possible.

(This photo has PRIME REAL ESTATE in the Horror Movie highlight reel. I can't stop seeing it in my mind. Literally within seconds of taking this picture, with my child holding this cake pop in his hand, I break the news to him about his grandpa's situation.... and life would never be the same. Can you hear that cracking sound? That's my heart)

This insertion of material ends with Dey and me driving back from Starbucks to our neighborhood to await Vev's return from school via the school bus, where I decide straightaway to tell him what's going on right there in the car, before weakly handing him his bag with his cake pop. Another child with cake pop trauma. I'm just sick.

*End inserted story, returning more or less to copied/pasted email*

As night fell and went to the wee AM hours and he still hadn’t turned up, we - our whole family - were preparing ourselves for bad news. Don't they always say "if you don't find them in the first 12 hours, the odds of finding them alive go down?" Or is it 24 hours? Or is it "find them during the day, because after night, it gets weird?" See, I don't watch those weird Law & Order/police/crime type dramas, so I don't know these things. Whatever. The point is, once Dr. Spouse got home from work around 5 pm, I was able to leave my house with him watching the kids, and go to my mother's house to be by her side.

I arrive to her home, to find not one, not two, but something like 6-7 squad cars in her driveway and cul-de-sac, and at least 9-10 police officers from various units and specialized departments coming/going.

(*oops, here we go, more inserting of details) Bizarre and irrational thought bubbles into my mind, a thought that makes zero sense under the circumstances - but I think to myself oh geez, they're wearing their boots in and out of the house! We are a shoes-off-in-the-house culture, it just jars me to see this. Of course, then my rational mind interjects: "WHO CARES?! THE FLOOR IS GONNA GET DIRTY, BUT YOUR DAD IS MISSING." Why are you wasting brain-space on the shoes?!" And I instantly feel sheepish, just to myself, in my mind. But then my defiant, defensive, confrontational mind goes "hey! She's only human! She's having natural reaction to seeing something out of the ordinary! Calm the fuck down, let her feel her feels!" I feel crazy. A whole internal conversation in the blink of an eye. We are weird creatures, we humans.

There are three who are standing around my mother as she sits at her breakfast table with her reading glasses on, looking over various forms they have in front of her. One officer, who happens to be a very tall, muscular African American man, is leaning against the table in his tactical vest and boots, with a giant black boxy-looking laptop open in front of him as he is typing a bunch of notes in. Several officers' walkie-talkies keep bleeping and beeping at random. I see two Caucasian or white-presenting Hispanic officers, one male, and one female, walking out of the house back to their cars and driving away - and it catches my eye at the last minute that their tactical vests say "K-9 unit" on them, and their vehicle is a large SUV with "K-9" emblazoned on the side. A late middle-aged short Hispanic officer in my mom's kitchen sees my eyes darting around and nonchalantly says "yeah, they're gonna send the units out right now with the bloodhounds to try and trace his scent. We took your dad's slippers, hope that's ok." My dad's brown, fuzzy bedroom slippers. I think to myself, what if he suddenly shows up at home and is irritated someone took his slippers. Weird thoughts again. Said officer also tells me that there is a Drone Search/Rescue unit in the air at the moment, along with the Helicopter Search Unit, and my irrational mind immediately goes "Wow, Vev would love that!" before my "shut your mouth" mind goes "whaaaat are you saying, this is terrible!" Egads, there's a whole symphony of voices up there.

The minute my mom sees me, she starts crying and I give her a hug - and immediately, I'm happy to be there for her, but I also feel it. The TRANSFER OF POWER. She had been somewhat composed and in problem-solving mode before I had arrived, but now that I'm there, I feel her tacitly hand over the torch of "HANDLING THE SITUATION," and I know that from this moment onwards, its gonna have to be me that is the spokesperson of the family, the one answering questions, the one steering the ship of whatever our next steps are going to be as a family. And, I am ready for it. I was born ready. Its fine. But also, dang.

I settle in a little, and my senses settle down into some sort of calm autopilot. I introduce myself to the officers who make it known to me that they're are from Missing Persons, and they explain what protocols have been set into place, what steps are being taken, and what the plan is going to be overnight to continue search and rescue. I tell them that I'd already seen and met some officers in town who were doing foot patrol, and they are glad to hear it. I share multiple updated pictures of my dad, I take an officer into my dad's closet in his bedroom and show him the type of clothing my dad ordinarily wears. They want to know what shirt that my dad was wearing that morning, and I don't know - and my mom doesn't either, and she's all broken up about the fact that she doesn't know. The officers (with only good intentions) ask me how come they don't have a Ring camera system installed at their house, and I have to sputter an explanation that is at once mindful of protecting my parents' feelings, while also kind of being honest with them about my own frustrations that my parents had vehemently refused my REPEATED ADVICE to do this very thing. I have to control my own frustration while answering questions like this, and its not much fun.

A detective walks me outside to the sidewalk, away from my mother, and it turns out he has to ask me some really sensitive questions and doesn't want my mother to be uncomfortable. I tell him I'm here for it, let's go - I'll answer anything you ask me. I can already tell what this is going to be about, and I am prepared to answer him without any hesitation. He asks me all the things one would wonder about in this situation. Does my father have a drug/alcohol problem? Is it possible he did, and we didn't know? Is it possible my father is having an affair? Is there another secret woman, a secret family, where he has perhaps run off to? A woman or family that would be complicit in letting him hide out there and evade discovery by the cops? Does my father owe anyone money? Is he in debt? Does he have a gambling problem? Is it possible there's someone out there who has a bone to pick with him and is holding him ransom? Does he have any other vices or secrets that would be worth considering as reasons for his disappearance? It's almost a relief to hear these questions and discuss it all with the detective, because the answers are easy. No, none of the above. My dad is a boring, cranky old man who struggles to use even basic technology. He wouldn't know how to find a mistress if a woman appeared in front of him and took his top off. He has zero debts and zero sketchy business deals going on. His problem is he is BORED and frustrated with his life, because inside his mind he feels like a much younger man who is trapped in a frail, aging body, and he's frustrated about it. And of course I feel for him. HOWEVER. He and I have always butted heads, and in recent years I have not been able to help feeling frustrated with him, because he is refusing to age gracefully, and he is taking out his own feelings on my mom and all of us, and it hasn't been much fun. He balked at retirement till it was way past the time to do so, and it got so complicated because he didn't pull the trigger on it at the time that it would have been convenient - instead, he waited till he was recovering from heart surgery, there was a global pandemic and a recession, and the real estate market got complicated. He missed the timing, in my opinion, and made it harder than it had to be. How do I say all this to the officer? DO I say it? My father has one problem, and one problem only. He is angry that he's getting old, and he thinks it's unfair. This is a man who is a doctor, and whose life work has been helping human beings with the natural problems of aging. And yet, he is acting like he thought it wouldn't happen to him. (*and oooh, sidebar - now I've officially devolved into just writing current thoughts and memories, not returning to email. I think I just have too much to say that hasn't been said)

At the precise time where I should be more soft, worried, empathetic and emotional about my family - I am feeling infuriated and my patience has run out. It's occurring to me that my dad has done this intentionally because he's just having a hard time dealing with himself, and I'm just super angry. He's putting us through the wringer because he can't get a handle on his own emotions, and I'm pissed that he's being immature and super unfair to us all. But. I can't say this. I keep it to myself.

By the way - its about 6 pm, now, and I just want to say that all this time, from the very start of like 12:15 pm - I've been in touch with my sister Rithers in Washington DC, and she's been involved in the situation the entire time by phone and text. And she's worried sick. Her husband K is worried sick. Her kids H2O and Nini come to know, and they're worried sick. My mom is worried sick. Dr. Spouse is at Threat Level Nine of anxiety. My kids are worried and also feeling my absence, because I've had to unceremoniously dump them afterschool that day, and it's outside of our norm and it just amplifies the gravity of the situation. They can feel the tension in the air, and it's super uncomfortable. This will get worse as time goes on. LOOK AT ALL THE PEOPLE THIS IS AFFECTING. I'm just building a dark storm cloud in my mind thinking of it, of all the people affected, and how his unhappiness and rash decision is now pulling so many people into a vortex of despair. And I'm balancing my calm, rational, take-charge and problem-solving personality and calm, problem-solving outer affect, with my inner fury that all of this has been caused by a Man-Baby having a Tantrum.

Anyway. Its about an hour or two of this controlled chaos of cops at my mom's house, before finally, they announce that they're all going to be leaving for the night - that certain departments are going to continue Search/Rescue overnight, but that they themselves would be resuming after sunrise in the morning. My mom and I say goodbye and shut the door, and then suddenly - it's just us. Silence. We don't even know what to say. Eventually she just goes, "let's eat dinner," and we both fix ourselves a bowl of rice and rasam and eat unceremoniously standing at the kitchen counter. I don't know if we even tasted our food. Afterwards, we get in my car, almost without talking about a plan, and start driving around. Just driving around. We go up and down the streets of her neighborhood, then out to the town center, then up/down some of the long suburban boulevards with sidewalks where people sometimes walk. We drive slowly through some strip malls, paying attention to some of the benches and bus stops in case he is resting or has fallen asleep somewhere.

We do the rounds at the three small and normally super-quiet hotels in our town, make inquiries at the concierge desks. Nothing.

We pull up to three separate (LOCKED FOR THE NIGHT) public parks, and I recall my Spartan Race training days and haul my 45-year-old, out of shape ass up and over several metal fences, and jog around in the dark with my iPhone flashlight on, hoping maybe I'll see this guy. No dice.

(I am leaving my elderly mother alone in a double-parked car outside a desolate, dark park each time I do this - which also helps my anxiety TONS. And it helps her anxiety tons to know that her beloved daughter who has left her husband and children at home is now running solo in the pitch-black night in desolate, dark parks. Lucky us.)

We go to a couple of gas stations that are still open, and talk to attendants, show his picture. But its the night shift, and anyone who was working earlier in the day is long gone now, The night shift folks are kind and promise to bring up the issue to their bosses and relief shift folks who come on after sunrise, and we thank them - but we know its all a really long shot at this point.

(Is that a random photo? Yes. Random phone number from one gas attendant, who was trying to be helpful and providing her the number of the station's general manager to see if we could get some security camera footage. Again, random picture. But it lives in my memory of the Horror Movie night, so here it is.)

By the way - I've got to pause and bring up a whole other thing here. We are alone in this. And yet, we are not alone. I don't realize it entirely in the moment, but we are not alone.

There is the Missing Persons report and press release, which begin a life of their own at this point.

I have shared the Missing Persons report and press release with a few WhatsApp groups I belong to. There is a Whatsapp group for fellow people of Indian origin who live in our suburban town, and I share it there. I share it with my mom's subdivision WhatsApp group. I share it on NextDoor. A PTA friend of mine texts me to say hi, unaware of this - and in our conversation, I say "hey, sorry, can't talk much, my family is dealing with an emergency right now," and I copy/paste the link. She flies into a panic - understandably - and asks, hey I know this is really personal and I'm sorry you're going through it, but I want to help, and I know many others do too. Do you mind if I share this? Do you trust me to share this in a way that might help your family? And I think to myself, fuck, what do I have to lose - and I give her the green light. CHIIIIIIILD - does she share it. Does she ever share it. She shares it to our entire PTA board, to the broader chat for important members of our elementary school community, and then she goes and shares it to my older child's middle school chat boards. Within about an hour of my first share - - the press release has now been read by over 6000-7000 people in my community, AT LEAST. And of course from there, likely more - people then shared to their church groups, their kids' scouting and activity groups, to their gyms, to their biking clubs, to EVERYTHING. EVERYONE KNOWS. And it is very, very overwhelming to think of that..... a part of me is cringing and dying.

But, also, a bunch of candles suddenly start flickering in the dark - - and I realize, there are total strangers out there who jump into action to try and help us. A biking club circulates my dad's picture, and every member of this 200+ member biking club is biking around town looking for him. People in my parents' subdivision each get on their Ring cameras, looking for evidence to help us - -AND ONE OF THEM FINDS a video of my dad walking down the street, and we FINALLY SEE THE FUCKING SHIRT HE WAS WEARING. We screenshot and send it to the cops, who are all excited to have a photo.

(Isn't that photo random? Random shirt from the Gap Factory Outlet website. This is the shirt my dad was wearing, that we saw on a neighbor's Ring camera footage, and then looked up on the Gap Factory Outlet website because my mom recognized it as "the shirt I bought him from the Gap Factory Outlet a few months ago!" Random photo. But again, it has a permanent place in the Horror Movie film reel).

THEN. Then, then, then. HERE they come. Here come my people. The ENTIRE board of our school PTA, my new friends, my new partners in crime. Remember the Suck Zone? The tornado that I got sucked into?! The hardest job I've ever worked for no money?! THOSE PEOPLE. The people who have been working it with me. THEY SHOW UP. EN MASSE. It is like an entire Marine Squadron metaphorically assembling on my lawn. They are suited up, in formation, READY. MANY of them - not one, not two - MANY of them - - drop everything they are doing that day, hit the pause buttons on their own lives, their jobs, their families, their kids. They GET IN THEIR CARS, and they start driving around. And they get their SPOUSES to drive around. And two of them call all the others and say "drop your kids off at our houses, we will watch them, and you go drive around, and you find Evolver’s dad." CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SHIT. They did this for us. And a tsunami of gratitude just knocks me over, standing there in the kitchen.

One of my best friends - my closest friend in our town, and I'm gonna call her Aunt Lynchpin, b/c her name starts with L and my kids call her Aunt L - has left her husband at home with her two daughters, and is driving around nonstop looking for my dad. She has known what we've been going through the last few years, she knows the whole backstory. And she says "you are going to do WHATEVER you need to do the next few days, and we are here for you. If you call to ask me if I can help you or if you can do X, Y, or Z - I'm going to be upset. CALL ME, or show up here, and just say 'do this.' And we will do it. I am your family." I take her up on this like five thousand times over the next two days.

Last but not least - my two college besties that live out of state, Y-Clef and Bonez - we have been on the horn in our group chat on WhatsApp since long before everything devolved into a tailspin. We are all three navigating the woes of the sandwich generation right now, with aging/infirm parents, and we've been supporting each other through that for a few years now... so they were the first to know, and were a constant source of support via text throughout the day.

Anyway, back to me and mom..... after our rounds, we drive back home around 10-10:30 pm, and we both take showers and get into our pajamas. But then, we walk out to the living room, look at each other silently, and almost without discussion, go back out to the car - - and do it all over again. Driving around aimlessly, without a plan, without leads, just looking out the windows. It's very late at this point and the streets of our sleepy suburban town are empty, with zero cars. I can drive with my high-beams on for most of the time without disturbing anyone else, but it's all to no avail. No sign of my dad.

Around midnight or so, we return home. By my car's odometer, we have logged over 45 miles of driving in about 2 hours, just going back and forth within our own small town. We know we've covered everywhere there is to cover at that point that (we believe) is within walking distance, since we was on foot. Demoralized. We silently head to our beds - my mom to her room, and me in the guest bedroom where my kids frequently spend the night. I don't fall asleep though. I'm texting my sister for awhile, then Dr. Spouse for awhile... and when they both fall asleep, I call around to three or four hospitals in my area, speak to the Emergency Room staff if there have been any John Does, and then I ask to be transferred to the Morgue. No unidentified bodies. Then I spend a few hours online researching funeral homes in my area that offer cremation services. Then I start looking at flight option for my sister to fly in from DC, and for relatives and friends to fly in from New Orleans. I am preparing for a funeral. I am positive this man is dead. I create a OneNote in my phone with a list of family members that we are going to have to notify, and I put stars next to the names of people we are going to have to fly in from New Orleans, from India. I visit the URL's of several Hindu temples from Houston, Dallas, Atlanta, and I jot down email addresses and numbers. I'm going to have to fly in a priest to perform the last rites. Tomorrow is the day that I'm going to get the call that they have found my father's dead body. So I am going to have some basic information and resources at my fingertips so that in the morning, WHEN we have to deal with the next part of this - I am not caught unprepared. I am going to have to drive this bus, I am going to have to steer this ship. So I better be ready. I'm completely in command of my emotions. I don't shed a single tear. I am in battle mode. I know at some point I go to the kitchen for a glass of water, and I see a faint light from my mom's room. I glance in there - she's in her recliner chair, sleeping. She's not in her bed.

I wake up (wake up? Did I sleep?) around 5 am and decide to quietly drive back to my own house, eat breakfast, take a shower, and be a part of my children's morning routine before school. They don't know it, but this is going to be their very last morning of their lives where they believe their grandfather is alive. I should be there.

Social media has blown up overnight. WhatsApp has blown up overnight. My voicemail starts blowing up before sunrise. Hundreds of people are DMing me saying "I think I saw a guy here! I think I saw a guy there!" and 100% of it is not fruitful. Most people mean well and are trying to be supportive, but it is all taking time and energy to deal with. I am filled with a sense of dread. I author 3-4 boilerplate responses and save them on my phone, and I start copying/pasting.

Also, the police reports have gone out to all local news outlets. Again, overnight, the links have been shared across social media. Our entire community is going to know about this by 7 am, and their friends are likely going to know at school. I fire off emails to the kids' teachers, principals, and school counselors to give them the information, and I write a heartfelt, desperate paragraph at the end of each asking them to please help me shelter my children from unkind comments or any breaking news of gruesome discoveries. I haven't been emotional about anything for nearly 24 hours now, but if anything gets to me a little, it's this moment. I need help to protect my kids from what we are going to find out today, and I need to beg the help of strangers with this.

BAM. IMMEDIATELY. A phalanx of people from Dey's elementary school assemble and report for duty. It shocks and overwhelms me at their individual, and yet coordinated, responses. Dey's teacher is PHENOMENAL. She calls me, ON THE PHONE, like a human being. We talk. She is besides herself, but then at the same time, ANOTHER PERSON STEERING THE SHIP, and I am sooooo grateful to have another set of hands holding the wheel. I have 100% that she is going to Mama Bear RAGE-defend my child from any and all scariness and negativity. Then elementary school vice-principal and counselor call me on speaker. They are a FORTRESS. They all metaphorically link arms, mount up, and tell me that they are enveloping Dey with an invisible shield of love and protection, and that they've got our backs. I am verklempt for the first time.

As for Vev's school community - his principal, his school counselor, his two most trusted teachers in middle school that I've reached out to. Do I hear anything? ..... Alas. I don't. And, of course my rational brain understands. This is all relatively breaking news, and I can't expect people to drop everything and immediately come running for me. But, I confess the Mommy Heart And Mind are a little anxious, and disappointed. I would have hoped to have heard from someone, ANYONE, that they'd gotten my message and would at least give a nod of assent that they'd do whatever little thing they could to help my kid. But - my kid is not at a warm, fuzzy elementary school anymore. He's in the Lion's Den of Middle School. Aside from it being middle school, with all the coordinating social intricacies and pressures - it is also HUGE! Over 2200 students. I think it's just a lot to navigate at every level. I am worried... and apparently, to my even greater heartache, Vev is too. He has social awareness, and he's not a baby anymore. He's very in tune with his family and friend group dynamics, and he's growing up fast - he can read between lines, and he can read silences. He's been observing the events of the last day, and I KNOW he's definitely connected plenty of dots along the way.

Over breakfast, Vev quietly asks me, "are there going to be paparazzi at my school?"

......... (heart breaking emoji)

I hug him tight, and take a moment to find some words. My head is swirling. I can't even imagine how he feels. Middle school is medieval enough without having to juggle the sickness of worrying if your grandfather is alive and well, the sympathy you're feeling towards your own parents and grandma for their anxiety, plus the social anxiety of worrying if you're friends are gonna talk about this issue to you, gossip about this, tease you about it, or if you're going to forever be branded "that kid whose grandpa went missing." Jesus. I spin for a few seconds.

Then, I woman up, and have a mom-conversation with my firstborn son, where I coach him on some responses he can say, some actions he can take. I tell him that this whole experience isn't just about his grandpa - that its an experience we are all going through, and we all have the right to feel our own feelings about it, and do whatever we want to help ourselves through it. I tell him he's allowed to say whatever he wants to say in response to people - - or, he's allowed to say nothing at all if he doesn't want to talk about it. I tell him that it is perfectly okay to tell people "Thanks for your concern, but honestly I don't wanna talk about it." That's allowed. And lastly, I say that if anything gets to be too much today, TURN YOUR WATCH ON (I don't even care if it's not allowed) and call me or daddy immediately. I will pick you up.

Not much else to do after that. I had told BOTH kids before school that day that if something happened and we had an update on their grandpa, that I might get busy that day and we'd all need to adjust as a family - so to be prepared that their Aunt Lynchpin (my close friend that I mentioned above, might be picking them up from school today and having them hang out with her till I-don't-know-when. They are agreeable to this.

It's about 5 minutes before Vev has to be dropped at his school bus that it happens. So to my relief in some ways, he got to be present for this next moment that happened. He got to take off for school that day with at least some solace and answers. My phone rings - and it is my mom. She is gushing a mile a minute. Around 8:30 am that morning, on Tuesday, October 27th, my mom gets a call from a strange number.  OMG, it was him. It was my dad.  

To be continued.