#like she does all the Mom things she's supposed to do and she does it well and proudly

[nadas-dirthalen]

I don't personally feel shame for enjoying Veilguard but I feel like it's vital to support positive readings of the game's content, given the amount of vitriol. And I adore that there are people like yourself encouraging individual engagement and entertainment, thank you 🧡🍊

So, here's my question for you: What do you think of Morrigan-Mythal's role in the game and how her motherly aspect was depicted?

Ohhh my god, I love this ask. I LOVE this ask. (And thank YOU, anon!)

I'm sure people are going to disagree with me, but I loved it. Hear me out, people.

My own relationship with my mom is nothing short of fraught. No, I'm not going to divulge a lifetime's sorrows here in a response to an ask, but I feel like it is important context for everything I'm about to say. My mother has done frankly inexcusable things, and those things will not be excused! Not by me!

That said: I think Morrigan's adoption of Mythal was masterfully done. The biggest reason I love it is that it harkens back to everything we learned from Anders and Justice during DA2.

Morrigan talks about how Mythal appeared to her, and how Mythal appeared as a combination of herself and Flemeth. This shows me that BioWare are still very much writing from the same place, the same bit of lore, that created the best parts of Anders' arc (to me).

During DA2, I was frankly startled by how different Anders was to the one we saw in Awakening. But it soon became clear to me why: Anders tells you that the moment he took Justice into himself, willingly, that their two beings fused in a way impossible to extract or pick apart. Not even Anders knows how much of him is Justice, anymore.

His same sardonic humor from Awakening? His same wolfish grin and renegade attitude? Changed, irrevocably. We only get little glimpses of "Awakening Anders" throughout DA2.

The same, I feel, is true of Morrigan—and if it causes anger, fear, uncertainty, then I feel that is because it is supposed to. We can no longer see the line where Morrigan ends, and where Mythal begins.

I see her reasons, first and foremost, for taking Mythal into herself. Morrigan reminds me of me. As I've grown older, while I do not (and will not) forgive my own mother for some of her actions, I see their motivations in clearer light now. I see the person my mother is, and I see her good intent. I know how to be a different person than her, how to act better on my own good intentions. If I were to inherit all of her belongings and all of her diaries/memories today, I would not become her. I would use those things to do better in the world.

And if you look at some devnotes left in DAI for that scene with Solas and Flemeth, you'll see that Flemeth was always scripted as passing along her/Mythal's memories and spirit. She did so with the intent of those things being a gift to Morrigan. Whatever you believe about Flemeth, the fact remains: Morrigan was always going in this direction.

It is important, also, to remember that Flemeth is dead. Even if Morrigan is taking Flemeth's memories, the mother who abused Morrigan is gone. I think, as she's aged, Morrigan can see that for herself. Taking Mythal's spirit, and willingly, does not mean becoming Flemeth. It means being able to use Flemeth's tools, her magic, in better ways. It means being able to take Flemeth's intentions, whatever they were, and do better with them. Be better. End the cycle of hurt.

How much of that is now coloured by Mythal remains a mystery, and I love that mystery.

Much of Morrigan is precisely the same. Her quips, much the same. Her speech patterns, the same (go look at how much she uses the Hallelujah cadence in DAI, I dare you, everyone). She speaks of motherhood so reverently that if your worldstate inclues Kieran, it fits.

But there is something different. Something calmer, more refined. Something that speaks with more precision, and something that betrays less heated emotion. Something aloof, watching, from behind Morrigan's eyes. Age has done a lot to temper Morrigan, yes... but look at how she appears to not have aged much at all in the time since DAI.

Morrigan, in DATV, is kind, helpful, and reliable... for the same reasons that Solas is cunning, calculating, and unafraid to betray Rook many times over. Because it suits the Evanuris living inside her skin. There is no reason for Morrigan to give Rook any evidence to distrust her with. There is no reason to be anything but pleasant. There is no reason to not talk about motherhood and show Rook her soft side.

And on the opposite side of the coin? Emmrich (I believe) makes note of how spirits do not process emotions and move through them on their own. This is why Solas is stuck in the same regret for 10,000 years, until he gets the external help that lets him let go. This is also why Mythal, jumping from host to host to host (my theory is she was in Andraste, first, or Andraste's half-sister), has learned to soften and empathize with people in that time. Her hosts are that external help, enabling her to process feelings, to learn and grow in ways the other Evanuris (Solas included) have not.

We see it even when she is in Flemeth, and when Flemythal are venting about the betrayal that will shake the very heavens. In the same conversation, she is the only Evanuris who has ever said a kind word to one of the Dalish People. "You do the People proud." (or something similar!)

When within Morrigan, that statement goes one step further. Morrithal says that modern elves will eventually surpass their ancient ancestors, hinting that it is because of their mortal (multifaceted) spirits.

That said... Mythal, I am watching for you, and I am so ready to see your beautiful face in Morrigan down the road.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I'd love to know how the cover date with A-Town actress Ash Lewis and Tom went down. What did they talk about? Were they friends by the end, do they stay in contact? Did they and their partners meet up before or after? What does Ash think about her role and meeting the inspiration for it?

[For those of you just tuning in: A-Town is the shitty postwar sitcom inspired by the life of Jake Berenson, to the eternal annoyance of Jake Berenson. Ash Lewis plays the main character's older sister Daisy, a dumb blond lacrosse player controlled by a yeerk named Zeptron 420.]

This whole thing felt like going to senior prom.

Not that I’d ever actually been to senior prom.  There'd been a show of sending me, Essa 412 giving Mom and Dad the runaround even to the point of getting the yeerk inside Vi Alden to show up in a dress.  30 seconds out the door, the formalwear had been swapped out for jeans and dracon rifles; our bodies had spent the night clearing wildlife out of a build site in the hopes of giving the “andalite bandits” nowhere to hide before the new community center opened up.

But I’d seen enough movies to know that this was how prom was supposed to work: A limo out front, a flower in my hand, a terrifyingly beautiful woman standing at the end of my parents' driveway.

Ashleigh Lewandowska wore a shimmering strapless gown in a color somewhere between gold and silver and lilac and rose, depending on how it caught the light. The silky fabric could only have been custom-sewn for her body, from the perfect way it hugged her curves and cut high enough in front to show one knee before trailing down in the back to an inch above the ground.  Jessica Rabbit come to life, and then melded with Jessica Alba.

“You look amazing,” I said softly. I handed her my sprig of lilies, feeling like I was putting a Pokemon sticker on a bottle of champagne.

“You clean up pretty nicely yourself,” she said.

I glanced down at my own attire.  We’d gone for a deep purple button-down and a charcoal gray suit, but skipped the tie and cuff links.  Allegedly this was the fashion right now.  “Thanks,” I said.  “I should hope so, since my cousin spent the last week using me as her personal Ken doll.”

She laughed.  “Welcome to Hollywood.”  She stuck out a hand, silvery bracelets jangling.  “Call me Ash.”

I shook gently.  “Tom.  Nice to finally meet in person.”

There was a blinding flash; I flinched in surprise, but Ash turned automatically toward the light.

“Wow,” I said loudly.  “After all your whining about paparazzi, you go and join them.”

Jake stepped up next to me, stuffing the disposable camera into his hoodie pocket.  “It’s not paparazzi-ing if I don’t publish the photos,” he said.  He stuck out his own hand.  “I’m Jake.  Big fan.”

Ash laughed, taking his hand.  “Ash.  And I’m a big fan of yours.  Besides...” She looked over at me.  “Aren’t photos the whole point of the evening?”

“Yeah.”  I smoothed down my jacket, even though I had Rachel’s assurances it hung perfectly.  “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Shall we, then?”  Ash gestured to the limo.

“Uh.”  I lunged to open the door for her, although I could tell from her laugh that that wasn’t what she’d meant.

Ash slid into the limo, scooting down the seat so I could perch next to her.

“Have him home before nine,” Jake called after us, “and don’t drink the jungle juice!”

I flipped him off before pulling the door closed behind me.

In cool interior of the limo’s passenger compartment, Ash’s presence was even more overwhelming.  She was stunningly beautiful with her delicate updo of blond curls, her full figure accentuated by the dress’s curves, her flawlessly smooth skin.  But there was an untouchability, a faint unnaturalness, about her beauty.  It was less like being on a hot date, more like being in the presence of an alien goddess.

Maybe it was just that I knew for a fact she had no interest in men.  Lack of attraction was always going to be a turn-off.

“So.”  She shifted to sit across from me, leaning forward to brace both hands on her knees.  “Some ground rules.”

“Yeah.  I’m listening.”

She shook her head.  “I mean we both set ground rules.  This is improv, but improv never means anything-goes.”

“Improv?”

“An improvisational performance.  We have the outlines of what we’re doing, and we’re making it up as we go.”

“Ah.”  The car lurched as the driver pulled away, causing me to slide sideways on the seat when I didn’t catch myself in time.  Ash put out a hand as if to steady me, but pulled back when she saw I was good.

“Sorry.”  She shrugged.  “No seatbelts in limos.”

“All right, I’ll start there.”  I shifted in my seat.  “My reaction time is complete crap.  I assume you’ve done a fair bit of reading about zombies for the role?”

She twitched a little at zombies.  “I’m not claiming to be an expert.”

“Sure.  What you should know is that that much of the stereotype is true, at least for me.  I’m slow to respond to pretty much anything sudden, and one way that shows up is I’m terrible with facial expressions.”  I gave her an apologetic smile.  “I’m going to do my best to sell this, but you’re going to be carrying most of the weight.”

“Ah, so you’re a bad actor.”  Ash nodded with mock solemnity.  “That, I can work with.”

“Cool.  Just think of me as your extremely well-dressed cardboard cutout,” I said.

She laughed again.  “Okay.  And I’ll keep in mind that I shouldn’t necessarily check on your face to see if you’re interested in something.”

“Yeah.”  I made an open-palm gesture to her.  “‘preciate it.”

“For me...”  She held up a perfectly manicured finger.  “No touching of boobs, hips, or butts—”

“God no!” I blurted.  “Uh, no offense, but...”

“Goes both ways, good, got it.”  She held up a second finger.  “Closed-mouth kissing on the cheek or maybe the neck is okay with me, if and only if it’s okay with you.”

I thought about it.  “Let me ask Bonnie?”

“Totally.  And for the record, I already ran all this by Sierra.”

“Cool.”

I tapped out a text as Ash rummaged in the giant handbag that sat next to her minuscule purse on the seat, finding her own phone.

“Bonnie’s fine with that,” I said when I got a reply.  “But I’ve been told not to fall in love with you, and also called a ‘narcissist’ three times in four texts.”

Ash gave a tinkling little laugh, one hand coming up to cover her mouth.  “I’ll have to meet this Bonnie.”

I glanced up at her.  “Totally incognito double date, next weekend at Shake Shack?”

“Let me text Sierra,” she said.

Sierra was in, it transpired.  And we hammered out most of the rest of the rules: arms around the shoulder or waist were okay, sitting in laps a no-no.  Splitting a dessert was fine, putting two straws in one drink a little too far.  Holding hands was encouraged.  We’d tell anyone who asked that we were friends, and if pressed to elaborate would say we were friends getting dinner together.  We’d tell the truth about our names, and the fact that we’d met through Ash’s research for A-Town.

I was allowed to make jokes about dating my double, but strongly discouraged from expressing an opinion about A-Town or about Ash’s character Daisy.  If all else failed, I should claim I had never seen the show but I’d heard a lot about it and was planning to check it out in the future.  If anyone planted the suggestion that we were at dinner because I was helping Ash with her research, I was to encourage the idea without confirming it.

Also, whenever possible, I’d be letting Ash do all the talking.

“You ready?” Ash asked.

I glanced out the window, surprised to discover the limo had pulled up at the curb.  She was easy to talk to, for a superhero princess in an outfit that cost more than my car.

“Will there be photographers right away?” I asked.

She nodded.  “Probably.  This place publishes its guest lists, which is part of why I made the reservation here, but it also keeps in business through requiring a level of respect from the hangers-on.”

“Cool.”  I smoothed my hands over my pants.  I was so glad we’d cut off my hair down to its usual buzz; trying to mess around with the loose poof of curls I wore it in at college would’ve given me too many opportunities to fidget. Same reason I'd left the glasses at home.

“Hey.”  Ash put her hand gently on mine.  “Thanks for doing this.”

I smiled up at her.  “What, pretending that I’m in any way desirable enough to attract a Hollywood A-lister?  Yeah, the impact on my reputation is gonna be a real hardship.”

“‘A-lister’ is definitely overstating it.  And you know what I mean.”

I did, of course.  Ash was aspiring for fame, anyway, and she’d attracted a good few offers for small film parts through her work playing fake-me on A-Town.  But if she had any hope of a film career, no one could know about her quiet long-term relationship with another woman.  There couldn’t even be rumors.  Not in that direction, anyway.

There were rumors already, as it stood.  Which is why Marco had texted us both to set up this little pantomime.

We were here to make a new batch of gossip.  Through manufacturing a story too odd, too delicious, too ridiculous for the press to pass up: the actor who played a fake version of Jake Berenson’s sibling on TV, entering into a fling with Jake Berenson’s real-life actual sibling.  In reality Ash’s character was only loosely inspired by yours truly, there having been no actual research involved in the construction of Daisy A or Zeptron 420.  But the fact that Ash played me on television was going to be too delightfully ironic for most tabloids to pass up.

“Good to go?” Ash asked.

I nodded.  “Just like we practiced.”

“Something like that.”

She leaned to the far side of the car and swung the door open.  I expected her to get out right away, but she made a whole production of swinging one leg out the door and planting her foot on the ground.  She left it there for a few seconds before she curled a hand around the door frame and slowly pulled herself out of the car, posture careful and head high.

“It’s Ash Lewis!” Someone called from outside.  And then there was an explosion of overlapping sound.

Ash turned, making eye contact where I still sat.  She winked.

Swallowing, I scooted over.  She put out her hand, and I took it.

My own exit from the car wasn’t nearly as graceful, but Ash made sure we were gazing at each other the entire time.  The lightning-strikes of flashes were already going off around us, people with everything from cell phones to full news cameras crowding forward at a barely-respectful distance.  Now I understood why she’d taken her time — it gave the bush-lurkers time to realize just who was climbing out of the latest stretch limo amidst an entire fleet of them.

“Ash, any comment on the rumors of a film contract?” someone shouted.

“Hey Ash, who’s—”

“Ash, smile for us!”

“Ash, who are you wearing?”

“Over here, Ash—”

“—your new beau?”

“I love you, Daisy!”

I suppressed a wince at that one.  Hopefully she didn’t mind no one being able to tell the difference between her and her character.  Hopefully it wasn’t like when people —

“Visser Seventeen?” a voice broke through.

Now I did wince.  I’d stopped dead on the edge of the sidewalk, expression frozen.  I didn’t know if I could...

“Tom Berenson,” Ash said loudly, and the crowd fell silent for the sound bite.  “We’re going for dinner, it’s a Balenciaga, can’t say about the film, and I love you all too!”

With that, she slid an arm around my waist and started steering me toward the door.

I smiled.  I waved.  I tried not to look like too much of a fool.

Several people yelled questions to me. A few yelled questions about me to Ash. A few, apparently, addressed their questions to the dearly departed spirit of Essa 412. Ash fielded the entire gauntlet, half-shielding me with her body as needed.

“Thanks,” I muttered, as we approached the hostess stand.

Ash nodded.  “Think it’ll rain?”

That was another one we’d done in the car — either of us could drop the phrase blue skies at any time to mean get me the hell out of here.

“It just might, yeah,” I said.  Giving the all-clear.

“Ash Lewis and Tom Berenson.”  This time Ash spoke much louder, probably so the mics could pick it up.

The host ran his finger down the list, nodding.  “Here we are.  Right this way, ma’am.  Sir.”

We followed him out of the hard-bright spotlight outside, stepping into a velvet-muffled interior like sliding underwater.

“Oh,” I whispered.  There were dozens of little round tables, each tucked away into semi-enclosed nooks around the edge of the room.  “This isn’t bad at all.”

Ash tapped the side of her nose.  “Don’t worry, plenty of eyes and ears in here too.”

Ah.  So a fair percent of the other diners would be reporters or hangers-on.  Made sense.

But it was still far less overstimulating than the cacophony outside.  Our table was draped in a white linen cloth, the enclosing walls in burgundy velvet.  No one was going to hear us unless we raised our voices, and the only photographs possible would be low-lit and far away. 

“So,” I said to Ash, after pulling out her chair and helping her sit.  “Come here often?”

She laughed, head tossed so that her curls cascaded attractively.  Exaggerated, but warm.  “This is my first time with a date, anyway.”

“I’m honored.”

I was running a mental check: elbows off table, legs uncrossed, posture straight.  Eyes on my date, even when I heard a click of a muffled shutter somewhere off to my right.  

“Ms. Lewis.”  A different guy in a tuxedo had materialized where the host had been a second ago.  “What a pleasure to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Ash said, smiling up at him.

“Will you be starting with some wine tonight?” he asked.

“The usual.  And we’ll take a few of those menus as well.”  Apparently, she had to request menus.

“Naturally.”  He held them out on top of a freaking tray.  Ash took one without comment.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, lifting the leather portfolio.  Feeling like a kid getting sticky fingerprints on my mom’s paperwork.  Wondering why I hadn’t done the math before now that generating trashy gossip would be so highfalutin.

The waiter bowed — I’m not kidding, he actually bowed — and glided away.

“We’re getting wine?” I asked in an undertone.

Ash lifted her head.  “You are over twenty-one, right?”

I nodded.  “Are you?”

She smirked, tapping a finger against her lips.  Got it, never ask a Hollywood dame her age — lies were a survival tactic.  She did play the sixteen-year-old version of me on TV.  Wouldn’t do to imply she might be a day over nineteen.

Opening the menu, I skimmed down the column of French- and Italian-labeled food things.  And then I stopped, my eyes skipping to the right, and read that column instead.

“Are these...” I leaned in closer, squinting at the tiny font.  No sign of any decimal points, but I could see a few commas.  “Are these prices in dollars?” I hissed.

Ash brought her hand up to her mouth, not quickly enough to hide her smile.

I flushed.

“It’s already paid for, Tom.”  She reached across the table to put two fingers on my wrist.

“No, I...”

We’d agreed she’d be picking up the tab, but still.  What the fuck could they have possibly done to that pigeon to make it worth twelve hundred fucking dollars?  It was a pigeon.  They were free for anyone with sharp eyes and fast talons, all over the friggin city.

“I didn’t realize the schmoozing and boozing part of this could be so pricey,” I said at last.

“You said no major food allergies?”  She raised her eyebrows.

“Just pineapple.”

She folded her menu so that she could look across the table, making eye contact.  “Do you trust me?”

I considered, rather than giving her a knee-jerk answer.  Trust her with my life?  Not exactly.  Trust her with this?

“Sure.”  I smiled.  “Go wild.”

She did, in fluent French, when the waiter returned.  My life was really in her hands now.

“All right,” she said, turning back to me.  “It’s going to be a while, so go ahead and give me something.”

“Something...?”

“You’re coaching me on my acting, remember?”  She grinned.  “So, lay it all out.”

I laughed, glancing away across the restaurant.  “Oh, you don’t want that.  I’m not an actor.  Or anything close.”

“No high school plays?”  She was smirking now.  “Middle school pageants?  Elementary school musicals?”

“Not a one.”

“Look, just...”  She tossed her hair again.  It was sort of terrifying to watch.  “Tell me one thing the show gets wrong.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “What, just one?”

She laughed.  “Artistic license aside.  What about the performances would you change if you could?”

“Seriously, all that comes to mind is hiring a better lion-actor,” I said.  “Which I assume is off the table.”

“Oh god, that friggin lion.”  She groaned, just exaggerated enough you could still believe in it.

“Wait.”  I leaned across the table, looking hard at her.  “They put you guys on set with a live lion?”

Ash shook her head so hard her earrings rattled.  “No, no!”

“Good, because I was about to have to call, I don’t know, OSHA or—”

“You’re sweet, but there's no need.”

“I mean, after Siegfried and Roy, that would’ve just been..."  I gave an exaggerated wince.

“Yes, exactly.”

I leaned back in my seat, heart rate slowing.  Seriously.  As a guy who’d been mauled by a tiger before — and that’d been a tiger who was motivated to keep me alive — I really would’ve gone to the SPCA with a complaint if some off-prime show had been letting its actors in the same room as giant cats for attention.

“The lion's on the same set as the humans, but never at the same time.”  Ash sipped her drink, using the motion to glance around and then lean in closer to me.  “The trainers bring him in, toss a few of his toys on the floor, and let him do whatever he feels like until he inevitably gets bored and drops down for a nap.  Then they send him away, and the producers write the scene around the footage they managed to get.”

There was another click from somewhere to our left, but thankfully no flash.  For good measure I reached across the table, and let Ash put her hand overtop mine.

"Anyway, tell me something else," she said.  "What do you think of Daisy?  Or Zeptron, for that matter?"

I turned my head half-away from the room, speaking in an undertone.  "I thought I wasn't supposed to know too much about A-Town?"

Ash shook her head.  "Just don't answer any reporters' questions about it.  Otherwise we should be fine."

"Okay."  I blew out a breath.  "I mean, I love your work.  Zeptron is, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, the best part of the show.  I assume you've seen the fan sites and know that already."

"According to the fan sites," Ash said, "Trina's the best part of the show.  Followed by Gina, followed by Zeptron.  Not that anyone's counting."

"And Bonnie says I'm a narcissist," I said.

"Maybe she's right.  We all need friends to keep us humble."

Just a hair of emphasis, on the word friends.  Got it.  No talking about Bonnie where the microphones could hear, or at least no acknowledging who she was to me.  "Okay, you want feedback?" I said.  "On how to more realistically be fake-me onscreen?"

"I do," Ash said.  "That's why we're here."

I considered the question.  Obviously if I'd been casting myself I wouldn't have gone for a pouty-lipped blond chick, but that was beside the point.  "Okay, fine," I said.

"Uh-huh?"

"The..."  I raised a hand to my ear, poking at it with the end of my finger.  "What's with the going like this all the time?"

Ash laughed, definitely a real laugh this time.  I was imitating a gesture that she made three, five, sometimes ten times an episode.

"What," I said, laughing myself, "is Zeptron worried she's about to fall out?  Is that what it's supposed to be?  Like a..."  I mimed catching an object that was about to fall out of my own ear.

"Yes."  Ash giggled.  "Yes, I'm adding that to the show notes.  Zeptron is constantly on the verge of falling out, and that's why the..."  She did a much better job than me, of course, of getting across the subtly ominous way that we constantly saw Zeptron patting at Daisy's ear.

"Seriously, though.  Why?"

"Pizza effect, as we say in the biz."  She raised both hands, pressing them to her ears like worried they were about to fall off.  "If someone's pizza delivery arrives midway through the episode, you have to be able to answer the door, pay the driver, sit back on the couch, and pick up the episode without having missed anything important.  And that's not even taking into effect the people who stop channel-surfing and start watching midway through an episode."

"So..."

"So we have to get across the idea that 'Daisy'" — she made air quotes around the name, and I kind of loved her for it — "isn't just the world's meanest teenager for some reason.  We need the audience to catch onto the fact that Daisy isn't Daisy.  And we need to remind them of that fact as often as possible, in case they ordered a pizza before starting the episode."

"Huh.  So you..."  Again I did the ear-poking gesture.  "Okay, fine, that makes sense."  And I did approve of the goal of distinguishing Daisy from Zeptron.  Otherwise you ended up known as Visser Seventeen for the rest of your fucking life.

"Yeah.  Like I said.  We don't want the audience assuming Brandon's sister hates him for no reason."

"Fine, fine, I'll let you guys have the ear-poking thing."

"What else?" she asked.

I blew out a breath.  This was not my wheelhouse, at all, and to be honest I had never watched an entire episode of A-Town from start to finish.  Mostly I absorbed factoids about it from Jake's ranting.  "Uh, my cousin Jordan says that Trina should stop going back and forth between Liam and J.J., and just date them both.  But that doesn't apply to Zeptron."

Ash gave another real laugh.  "Oh, I wish," she said.  "But yeah, that'd be a note for the writing room.  I'm just a humble actor."

The food arrived then, on six different plates.  Which was fortunate, because each one had just a tiny spray of food amidst vast empty space barely broken by sauce.  I hoped we were allowed to eat the garnish as well.  Ash served us, thankfully, using tiny metal tongs to set portions of everything onto two dessert-sized plates.

"Sorry," I said, after I'd swallowed my first bite of... I don't know, maybe a grape leaf and some kind of soft meat?  It was pretty good, to be honest, but not $700 good.  "I'm not much use."

Ash smiled softly, patting her lips with her napkin.  How she was managing to get food into her mouth without smearing her lipstick was one of life's great mysteries.  "That's not true," she said.

Again, she got her meaning across with just a hint of extra emphasis on certain sounds, a tiny tilt of one eyebrow: I was being useful by being here, no actual insider information necessary.  Couldn't have told you how she'd conveyed it, only that she did.  Actors, man.

"Thanks."  I took a drink, and tried not to feel like a galumphing idiot because there was no graceful way for a normie like me to eat on camera.  "Is there anything else specific you want to know about— about Daisy?"  I'd almost said about me, but well.  Eyes and ears everywhere.

"Let's be honest," Ash said.  "I don't play Daisy, at least not 99% of the time.  I play Zeptron 420 pretending to be Daisy."

And if she kept saying shit like that, I really was going to fall in love with her.  "You know what?"  I pulled my napkin off my lap and dropped it on the table, pushing back my chair as if to indicate I was leaving.  "We're done, I can't add anything, you already understand the role better than anyone else on the planet, I cannot possibly hope to gild this lily."

"You're too kind."  Ash smiled, but she also nudged my napkin back toward me with a fingertip.

Got it.  Couldn't make any gestures that could be misinterpreted by the camera.  Whoops.  Dropping the napkin back in my lap, I scooted my chair closer to her and leaned in close to look her in the eye.  "Seriously, though," I said, in a low whisper.  "It gives me a lot of confidence in the show to hear you say that."

"Okay, here's a question."  Ash took another bite of... I don't know, some kind of tiny fresh fruit cubes and some kind of fish?  I hadn't dared try that one yet.  "If you were Daisy, living Daisy's life.  How would you feel about having Brandon as a little brother?"

What immediately came to mind is what it'd feel like to have D-cups as soft and round as hers, right there on my chest, and a push-up bra to put them in.  Almost certainly not what she'd actually been wondering about.

"Brandon," I said, trying to refocus.  "Okay, so.  I'm not Daisy, but.  From my point of view, he's... really annoying, to be honest."

Ash sighed.  "Everyone says that.  Poor Jared."

Jared Kincaid was the actor who played Brandon.  And yeah, if I was him then reading those fan sites would be rough.  I could only imagine.  Not that I had fan sites.  But there were very good reasons I never searched for myself online.  Or read my Wikipedia article.  Or dived too deep into Animorphs forums.  Now if I could only get Jake to follow my example...

"What I mean."  I held up a hand in a hear me out gesture.  "I can't comment on his acting or writing, but Brandon's... really lackadaisical about the war, you know?  And I get that the fictional empire-that-shall-not-be-named isn't nearly as much of a threat as the yeerks were.  But he keeps blowing off missions to play lacrosse games, or go on dates.  And he claims he's in charge of the team any time he's bossing JJ or Trina around, but he never seems to do anything with that power.  It's usually Gina and Liam, or Trina and Crystal, getting back from missions.  Brandon just hangs around his house all the time getting grounded by his parents and bickering with Zeptron."

"Bickering with Zeptron is advancing the war effort, if you think about it," Ash said, but she was smirking.

"In that case, he works harder than the rest of the fauximorphs combined.  I stand corrected."

"Foe-uh-morphs?"

"Oh, uh."  I winced.  Hopefully that wasn't actually insider information.  "What Jake calls the A-Town team.  Originally a Marcoism, I think."

Ash laughed, nodding to herself.  "Fauximorphs.  Works better than 'teen shapeshifter team we can't name onscreen for copyright reasons,' I'd say."

"Is that the only reason?" I asked.

She tilted her head in a question, earrings sliding against her cheek.  She had an ultra-intense way of listening, conveying with everything from the tilt of her eyebrows to her position of her hands that she was hanging on your every word.  Like I said, bright future ahead.

"You never say 'yeerk,' or 'Animorph,'" I said.  "Characters refer to 'those jerks' a bunch, which I assume is meant to imply something, and obviously you've got alien invaders played by eels, but... it's down to copyright?  You know Marco owns the copyright for 'Animorph,' right?  And he works for you."

"Mm."  Ash made a small gesture, raising the first two fingers of her right hand, a let me think, as she chewed another bite of food.  Finally she said, "It's down to taste, I suppose.  Because it is ultimately a fictional show."

"Ha!"

That'd come out too loud — I pressed a hand over my mouth — but it got another genuine laugh from Ash.  And oh, that untouchable goddess veneer was wearing off faster than I wanted it to.  She was acting all too approachable.

She's gay, I reminded myself firmly.  And taken.  And you have a hot girlfriend at home.

"I just..."  I looked down at my plate.  "That's what I keep saying.  It's not a show about the war, not really.  It's a show about a ridiculous version of the war that's not supposed to be realistic, and everyone knows that.  Jake keeps taking it too seriously, you know?"

"I would hope not," Ash said.  "And we aren't trying to depict real yeerks.  That'd be pretty disrespectful, don't you think?"

The whole show was disrespectful as fuck — Jake and I agreed on that much — but even without the cameras, I wouldn't have said that to Ash.  Disrespectful wasn't the worst thing in the world.  It beat valorizing the Animorphs for the purpose of holding them up in contrast to everything allegedly wrong with the current generation, which was the most common alternative I'd encountered.

"What about you?" I offered instead.  "What do you think Daisy thinks of Brandon?"

"Oh, man."  She blew out a breath.  "I think she's sad, mostly.  She probably misses hanging out with him, and it has to upset her how much Zeptron bullies him.  I also think she's proud of him being such a good lacrosse player, like maybe she used to look forward to them being on high school lacrosse teams together before—"

"Okay, okay!"  My hand was clenched around my fork; I forced my fingers open.  "Okay."

"It's nice filming in California, where the weather usually cooperates," she said.  Checking in again.

"It does rain here sometimes," I said.  And then, "You're very good.  You know that?  Whatever they're paying you, it isn't enough."

"Mmmm, can I quote you on that next time I'm talking to my agent?"  She smiled with her lips, but her gaze was searching mine.

"Oh, please do."  I did my best to smile reassuringly.  And then, because I sucked at nonverbal communication.  "I asked the question, dude.  You answered.  But go ahead, hit me with another one."

There was a click to our right, another camera shutter going off.  Knowing my luck, I'd managed to get food in my teeth or bunch up my pants at a weird angle.

"How do you feel about Zeptron and JJ's romance?"  Ash lobbed a lowball at me.

"She should've stuck with her banana slug boyfriend," I said.  "Would Daisy want to date JJ, in your opinion?"

Ash tilted her head, then shook it.  "He's too young for her.  And she's secretly all punk and alternative, if you've seen any of the episodes with her cameos.  JJ's kind of a poser, you know?"

"Plus, he cheats on all his girlfriends."

"Exactly."

"How's Marco feel about JJ, anyway?" I asked.  There were obvious differences, from the Italian actor and buzz cut to the inexplicable decision to have him use duck as his battle morph, but he was Brandon's best friend, the team's comic relief, the only one with an immigrant mom, and the one with the most girlfriends.  That, and his mom was either a homicidal sadist or else being controlled by a yeerk that bore a suspicious resemblance to Visser One.

"Have you ever," Ash said, "and I mean ever, gotten a straight answer out of Marco about anything?"

"Oh, hell no," I said immediately.  "I think Jake can — that's his superpower.  But me?  No way, Jose."

"Yes, he's very good at this kind of thing." She didn't mean acting, of course. Or at least, not the kind that one did on TV.

"Scarily good, some would say," I muttered.

"Oh?"

"Okay, you—" I lowered my voice. "You remember Tennantgate, right?"

Ash nodded, of course, even though she was frowning in confusion. William Roger Tennant, America's most beloved hippie, caught on camera trying to strangle a dog. The most-played news clip of the year, at least in California.

"What if I told you," I said quietly, "that Tennant was...?" I made that yeerk-falling-out-of-ear gesture again, to get her to laugh. "And that it just so happens Marco Alvarez's stepmom owns a white toy poodle?"

Ash choked on a sip of water, putting a hand to her chest in surprise. I exerted heroic effort not to follow the direction of that hand too closely. "But how?" she whispered, when she'd recovered. "How would you even engineer something like that? They'd have to know exactly where he'd be when, how he'd react, that it'd happen exactly as the cameras turned on..."

I held up both hands in an open-palm shrug. "You've got me. Like you said, he's very good."

"It's funny."  Ash glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot.  I leaned in close to her, and she leaned across the table to meet me.  With her lips an inch from my cheek — she didn't touch my ear, we'd covered that — she whispered, "I asked Marco on this date first.  He said no.  Said that actually, he's thinking of... you know.  Telling people."

I sat back, looking at her.  Hopefully that little moment had looked plenty intimate for the cameras.  She'd even managed a blush, how I had no idea.  The red wine, maybe.

And then it hit me.  Coming out.  Marco was thinking of coming out.  "I..."  I took a breath.  "I hope... Whatever happens, it works for him."

Because he wasn't untouchable, not really, but he was about as close as you could get.  Elton John famous.  Anderson Cooper, Ellen Degeneres, Rachel Maddow famous.  Famous enough that losing all sponsorships and acting gigs, getting dragged through the mud and spat on by former fans, wouldn't be enough to ruin his life or his legacy.  Famous enough to pave the way for other boys who dated boys, for people like Ash to maybe someday not have to lie.

It was the difference between Arnold Schwarzenegger taking a four-by-four to the face, and Carrie Fisher taking that same four-by-four.  The blow was coming no matter what, and it'd hurt like hell when it did.  The only question was if it'd leave you enough marbles to straighten up and keep swinging.

Ash smiled weakly, and this time it looked genuine.  "And you know what I hope."

Yeah.  Because if the four-by-four hit Marco, maybe it'd only be a two-by-four by the time it got to her.

"Ash, I..."

You know why I agreed to come on this date? I lied earlier, about not reading my Wikipedia entry. I did, just once, not that long after it was posted. The first two sentences were about Jake. The rest was about Essa 412. For more information, Wikipedia suggested, I'd want to read the entry for Visser Seventeen.

Seemed kind of pathetic, when you thought about it. I'd agreed to this to be worth talking about, for something I'd done for once. Ash...

She was lying, right now, because she had to. Because there was no choice. Not if she wanted to live in peace, wanted Sierra to live in peace. She couldn't come here on a date, not a real one, not to any restaurant anywhere someone might have a camera. Her hand was resting on mine, and she couldn't do that with the person she actually wanted. Sure, a century ago Bonnie and I would've been illegal in California, if her parents had been allowed in at all, but a hell of a lot had changed since then. There was no comparison.

It made me feel small and shabby, to have it all laid out like that.

"I..."  There was nothing I could say.  Not in public, and not when this wasn't my fight. "I hope you go on more dates here," I said at last.

"And I..."  Now Ash's smile was definitely fake again, even to the point of being a little sarcastic.  "Hope you're with me when I do."

I winked at her.  That was unlikely, since we'd agreed we would be at most photographed walking around together one more time before slow-fading into tabloid mystery.  But for now... "Dessert?" I said.

"Dessert," she agreed.

[panlight]

also continuing off the Informed Traits discussion, just how much of Caslisle's compassion/kindness is informed? Bella and Edward both make it seem like he's this saintly figure and pillar of goodness, but then there's moments where he does things that make you wonder if the view on him is just really rose-tinted.

Again, going back on BD where he invites his friends to witness and doesn't seem to care that they're hunting humans just outside forks/la push and let's them stay even after already knowing what their presence triggers the tribe to phase, the book also reveals that he took Jacob's blood sample to study without his consent?? Like a lab experiment???? (I learned this through a post showcasing that part in the book) Also in a podcast I listen to that discusses the plot of MS, he apparently fakes being Billy's distant relative (impersonating an indigenous person uhhmmm 😬) and, well,,,, lets just say I can see why some people think that entire phone call just gave colonizer vibes. AND!!! didn't he drug a woman to steal their car and kinda doesn't react much when they caused a massive car pileup??

On the one hand i dont mind if it's meant to show us that even Carlisle's sense of morality is flawed, but between Bella's "the Cullens are good to the core" and every time Edward talks about him in MS, it's feels more to me like another unreliable narrator trope.

This one is harder for me because, see, I want the compassion to be real because I think the concept of a vampire blessed/cursed with Super Compassion is legit fascinating! As I've said about 23470234 times, my favorite aspect of vampire stories is how they become a vampire, how you cope, the choices you make, what you accept and what you deny about your new reality. The idea that for this one guy, becoming a vampire made him even more compassionate is just the kind of twist on it that I've never seen anywhere else and I think it's really interesting, actually. A dud of a superpower, sure, but the innate push-pull of vampire instincts vs super compassion compels me, though.

But obviously I can see where it comes from that it could be an unreliable narrator thing or outright lie. Or at least a show vs tell problem where we're told he's compassionate but actions suggests otherwise.

I think it falls apart in two major ways:

The protagonist-centered morality. Everything in the story is about facilitating the E/B romance. Carlisle's alleged compassion can only help that, he can't hinder it. They HAVE to move back to Forks so the story can happen, he can't say "huh maybe it's NOT compassionate to move back to a place where people know what we are and are terrified of us." He can't refuse to drug the soccer mom because they have to save Bella! He can't object to having witnesses gather in Forks and force more teenage boys to phase and put humans at risk of being eaten because we have to save Renesmee! He can compassionately offer Bree surrender, but neither he nor Esme can do any more than that to try and save her, because that would complicate Bella's upcoming wedding. The Bella-centricity of it all sits like a supermassive black hole in the middle of the story, disrupting the orbits and bending the light of the other characters.

Carlisle can't be any more compassionate than his author, and that limits him. We had a fandom discussion about this a few years ago, but basically because SM doesn't see the problems with how the Quileute characters are treated in the story, none of the characters can, either. I remember calling it the moral version of how Alice is supposed to be a fashionista, but because SM doesn't really know anything about high fashion, there's a lot of 'tell' about her being this fashion icon but the actual show of clothes in the story doesn't live up to it. Or Carlisle himself -- he's supposed to be this genius doctor who has studied medicine and science for centuries, but SM isn't a doctor or a scientist, so some of the stuff she makes him say doesn't live up to the idea she planted. SM totally missed the settler-colonial stuff, the dehumanizing language, etc etc, so none of the characters, not even Compassionate Carlisle or Power-of-Heart Esme can.

tl;dr I like to think the compassion is real but hindered by the narrative insisting on prioritizing the love story AND Carlisle being unable to be more compassionate than his author. But that's because I WANT it to be real because I think the concept is really interesting, even if the execution is lacking. I don't need or want him to be Perfect or a Saint, and I'm sure existing as a VAMPIRE of all things would naturally come into conflict with compassion all the time (examples in the book is him not wanting to kill James and it leading to the extended hunt instead; offering surrender to Bree but knowing if he goes against the Volturi they could kill the whole family; telling Sam in BD that this isn't his fight and 'don't get your family slaughtered for pride,' even as Sam insists they have to be there for Jacob and Jacob has to be there for Nessie [blargh].) and that struggle and how he deals with it when he's in a situation with no Compassionate choice is available would be great. Even that car chase in Midnight Sun could maybe work if the story gave Carlisle any room to protest until Alice insists it's the Only Way!!!! or whatever, and some follow up where like oh huh weird some random charity swooped in to pay all the medical bills of everyone involved in the pile-up and bought them all new cars. If Edward, Jasper, etc can't turn off their gifts, Carlisle shouldn't be able to either, even when being forced into uncompassionate actions. But SM doesn't care. She only cares about Carlisle, let alone his compassion, inasmuch as she needed a kindly father figure to set up the vegetarian vampire thing and for Bella to have a convenient doctor.

[my-cat-ate-your-appendix]

A few theories floating around in my head that aren't based on anything, just me wildly speculating possibilities (and when I saw wild, I really mean it):

1) That book and that key

As was pointed out by user goodbye432, we can see that Violet's key comes out of the book, but this key still remains.

I feel like this could be a gateway key that helps all the keys find each other? Or it could be the book that acts as a gateway. Or maybe both of them as a combination act as a gateway?

Point is, that key definitely isn't a key that gathers narratonin

It doesn't have the narratonin compartment that all the other keys have

The whole structure is different, actually.

So it's probably not a key that was in the original story-key roster. Maybe it was created after the other keys to help them find each other better? Maybe Nox himself created this key while he was still a human? Maybe Nox created this key after he became a key? Maybe Nox didn't have anything to do with it at all? Maybe it was accidentally made by a cat named Prunella?

Personally, I don't think that key is sentient (like, I don't think it has a tiny goober form like the other keys), either, but that really has no basis at all. It very well could.

2) Are the stories themselves sentient?

The story just wants to be enjoyed, the story just wants to be finished, the story doesn't want to be destroyed. The story's sounding an awful lot like a sentient creature right now.

We know that the keys don't decide anything about the story, and nor do the holders of the keys. So who decides when the story ends? Who decides the amount of enjoyment (and therefore the amount of narratonin) received from the story? My bet's on the story itself.

I don't think this is going to have much relevance in the actual plot, but it was just interesting to think about.

3) Silver is in on it

Silver knows something. This has such major foreshadowing with this particular panel:

and then the scene immediately cuts to Silver

Suspicious. Also, so far, Silver's key is the only key that was left around with a note. Bronze's key was literally in a flea market with one other unknown key, and Goldie's key was in the clutter known as Prunella's mom's stuff. Silver's key, on the other hand, was left in the library, very clearly intentionally. It was meant to be found, just not by Chase.

And why was Silver broken? What happened? Did she just like, fall? I don't think so.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, since we all know that Silver adores Chase as well as her family and would never agree to endanger them again. Maybe she escaped and was supposed to help the other keys escape too? Maybe she was supposed to help Nox escape? Maybe she did help some of the keys escape, but not the others? Maybe she's part of the FBI? Who knows? Not me, that's who.

4) What's up with Ex Libris anyway?

So far, we've been hearing of Ex Libris as this kind of Big Bad Organisation, but we've never actually seen them make a move? I think it's clear now that Nox wasn't working for the Ex Libris, but rather for his own motives, so it isn't as if the Ex Libris sent him either.

So does the Ex Libris just like, not know that half of it's keys are missing and another key is trying to turn human? Or does it know and is deciding to not do anything about it?

Or does it know and can't do anything about it? What if the Ex Libris has been disbanded, and the keys just don't know about it? That's not quite feasible, I know, considering that Violet and Buddy are probably in the Ex Libris facility right now but that's just our assumption, y'know? They might be in hiding. I'm pretty sure Ex Libris wouldn't want Buddy turning back into a human, so they're definitely going behind Ex Libris' back to do what they're doing, so why can't they be in hiding? Why can't they be totally unaware of what's going on in Ex Libris?

Or maybe the Ex Libris isn't evil at all? They seem more like a bunch of sleep-deprived scientists making one mad discovery after another. If I'm right about the artificial key Buddy theory (see this post) then I admit that would make them more evil, but maybe they're aware of that. Maybe they know that what they did was wrong, and regret it. Maybe all the unethical experimentation was done by a far, far older batch of the Ex Libris, and the new generation of the Ex Libris is strictly vegan and on the keys' side. Maybe they're choosing to help by ignoring. Maybe there's a helper on the inside. Maybe it's Chase's dance partner who never shows up to practices.

Maybe he never shows up to practices because he's too busy trying to save the keys from the Ex Libris. Poor guy.

5) Chase's friends

Yeah, they're definitely not just there to show us that hey! Chase actually has friends his own age! It just doesn't line up.

Maybe one of them bought the other key from the flea market? Y'know, the one Chase couldn't get in time?

Maybe one of them's going to coincidentally show up in the same book as Chase and Nox some other time, and Nox is just going to stare at Chase and Chase will be like "Dude I swear I had absolutely no idea this time."

I just think that would be funny.

That's all I can think of right now. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, I'll be disappearing off of the face of Earth now.

(On a totally unrelated note, a few months ago, my school counsellor told me I should test for ADHD)

[zaffiri-saffici]

Eek, I'm sorry you had this experience. There are lots of fans of this show out there who will argue that AAA can stand alone from other MCU products, but unfortunately, everything Marvel does is part of a grander narrative, so I would disagree. While the story in AAA can stand on its own from the rest of the MCU, ultimately, it is part of a bigger whole and that context can impact how you perceive this project from the next.

You could technically watch this show and only this show, but without the backstory from WandaVision, Doctor Strange MoM, and some of the previous Avengers movies that came before it, it's hard to do.

Agatha Harkness was never supposed to be this grand character, to my knowledge. It was really Kathryn Hahn's insanely iconic introduction and performance in WandaVision that ultimately made the Marvel producers ask her, "How would you like your own show?"

There was always a plan to introduce Billy Maximoff and eventually tie that into the Young Avengers arc, but now, Marvel had this popular character that kind of thwarted their plans a bit. And that was a good thing because it meant they were listening to their audience! (hard ask for Marvel historically, tbh)

So what we got with AAA was more context on Agatha's history, how and why she became this villain character, and how that ties into other important questions about things like the Darkhold (though that's still a bit of a hole by the end of AAA, and I wish we got more answers about it), but the sad truth is that her role and impact (based on the comics and the MCU's current plans) means that she will likely never be a driving character that the Marvel relies on to further the other stories that are already on the move as we enter the next phase of the MCU.

What this show did give us was a canon sapphic relationship, a canon queer character as a main character, and a pretty awesome, layered villain with an open ending that implies we will continue to see more of her in future projects (I know Kathryn is signed on for multiple mcu projects so I don't doubt whether they continue Agatha's story in a second AAA season or in VisionQuest or other upcoming projects, that we will see more of her). Agatha and her popularity was pretty much all thanks to Jac Schaeffer and her writing team, in combination with Kathryn Hahn's stellar performance in WandaVision. It was a perfect recipe for a new project centered predominantly on her.

It also undeniably told the Marvel exec team that there is a massively underfed audience base out there who craves this representation and media that they are missing out on and that they should probably (and FINALLY) start investing more into. AAA broke records for viewership and acclaim, surpassing Loki S2, which was one of Marvel's most recent successful projects before it. And I believe they saw more Disney+ subscribers as a result than during any other release, which says a lot tbh, because Disney has notoriously not supported wlw media in the past, amongst other things.

I am looking forward to how they decide to incorporate her character in future projects, now that they have the data to say they need to being doing more with queer rep, and I hope, somewhere in that process, and because of the ship's popularity, that we'll see them revisit the Agatha/Rio dynamic, too. But, the MCU is not a place where anyone should ever get their hopes up. They will always have bigger plans and a larger agenda, and every project is just one piece of a larger whole.

I live comfortably in a fanfiction bubble and will gladly stay that way.

Watched all of ‘Agatha All Along’. The story was certainly interesting but the reason why I wanted to watch it wasn’t really given much focus. I mean aside from what they did to each other, it was pretty bland.

Oh well. Here’s to the next one.

To be honest - short-form just doesn’t really satisfy me.

It’s my own fault really. That’s more the problem than anything else. I keep expecting something really significant and I never get it. I need to lower them.

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[keeps-ache]

buttered noodles 💫💛🍜

[hillerska-official]

(Ignore me I just gotta scream a bit before I lose my mind entirely)

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

You are a seventeen year old lesbian. You ran away from home and are lying about every aspect of yourself in order to work your way up the ranks of the war crime factory, and it’s working— you got promoted to work directly under the citystate governor as personal security for him and his family. And now you have a crush on his wife. (would that be fucked up or what?)

[1hyunjae]

[killjoy-prince]

Ray's After Ending is so funny because for a good chunk of it, most of the RFA members are knocked out by V's sleeping gas (Saeran is immune, Saeyoung isn't present bc he was kidnapped by his agency under his father's orders and MC wakes up in like an hour) but the game has a call feature where you can call the characters and it would be a waste if you couldn't use it bc the characters were unavailable so instead they have other people pick up the call (Jumin's driver picks up Jumin's phone, Jumin's father picks up Zen's phone, Yoosung's friends and mom pick up Yoosung's phone and Jaehee's coworkers pick up Jaehee's phone) and we do get to learn about the characters from outsider's point of view but it's so funny to me that these people are visiting their loved ones and suddenly the phone rings and they decide to just. answer it. and start talking to this stranger they've never met

[sudokuplayer]

-

[arolesbianism]

I’ve been having a rough few days, but I’ve been feeling a bit better so I decided to make some lil thingies for some spiraling upwards kitties :3

[drev-the-procrastinator]

love waking up to my mom giving me an ultimatum and ordering that i have to give up my (admittedly expensive) apartment 1n 2 weeks and move back home for good. i had stuff to do today but i guess being gripped by dread and anxiety works too

[bylertruther]

the brainrot is so bad that i'm sitting here trying to watch the godfather just thinking to myself "damn..... how can i make a byIer au outta dis... 🤔📝"

[evansbby]

.