#which is not a thing i can do in real life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahqkas · 2 days

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♯ STARMAN ; remus lupin

PAIRING! young!remus lupin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! during a snowy holiday at the potter residence, remus finds himself caught between the matchmaking ideas of his two best friends and his growing feelings for you

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, idiots to lovers, kissing, james & sirius play the matchmakers, cursing + lmk

WORDS COUNT! 3k

NOTES! i posted this back on my old blog in 2022 / 2023 so if you’ve read this before no u didn’t❕ peter is absent in this ff , he’s spending the christmas with his own family

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

JAMES POTTER AND SIRIUS BLACK.

Good lads, great company, and even better matchmakers. Who wouldn't want to spend time with them? The two boys were always full of energy, their laughter infectious, and jokes just rolled from their tongues as naturally as breathing. You could be certain that boredom was a foreign concept in their presence.

That's what everyone thought.

Remus Lupin, however, isn't everyone.

To Remus, James and Sirius were more than just pranksters and school celebrities. They were his closest friends, brothers in all but blood, and the kids behind some of the most outlandish escapades Hogwarts had ever seen. Remus saw behind the facade of their shared humor and carefree attitudes. He understood the deeper layers of their cores — the loyalty that bound them together, the masked fears and insecurities, and the stupidity and courage that defined their actions.

James Potter, with his tousled hair and round glasses, had a heart as big as the Quidditch pitch. Sirius Black, with his roguish good looks and devil-may-care attitude, possessed a sharp intellect that clashed perfectly with his rebellious nature.

Yes, to the outside observers, James and Sirius appeared to be the life of the party (which they were) but to Remus, they were the definition of family.

Even though they certainly knew how to fuck things up.

ONE

"Just listen to us, Moony! This one will work out, me and James planned it for . . . one week, is it? Just trust us!"

Sirius Black's voice was brimming with enthusiasm, his gray eyes twinkling with the unspoken promise of yet another grand scheme. As these words left his mouth, Remus felt a surge of frustration well up inside him. His hands itched to do something else than the dishes — but he resisted the urge to punch the oldest Black brother. The sheer absurdity of the situation was almost laughable. This wasn't the first time his best friends came up with a plan to help him with one of his many problems. Some of their previous attempts had actually worked out quite well. But there were also unsolved problems that Remus had learned to live with, issues he simply couldn't — or wouldn't — allow them to meddle with. Like this one.

"Exactly, mate! We're not doing this just for fun, you know. We're doing it just for you, because as you can see, we know you don't have the courage to tell [Name] how you feel. And we wouldn't be suggesting this if we didn't think it had a real chance of working."

Remus nearly dropped the plate he was washing onto James' head. Did they really have to put their noses into his personal matters? It wasn't that he lacked the courage — he told himself that repeatedly — but the timing just wasn't right. And he had came over to James' house to enjoy the Christmas holiday in peace, not to snog off his best friend's face.

But once an idea comes into a marauder's head, it won't leave until it's out for the world to see.

Just Remus' luck.

The warm, soapy water cascaded over his hands as he resumed scrubbing the plate, trying to focus on the boring task before him rather than the frustration rushing through his system. Sirius's words carried in the air again.

"It was originally planned for Evans, but she wouldn't be as cool with it as [Name]. You know how they both are! Evans would try to hex James' ugly face first, then mine. And [Name]? Well, it seems like you just have to find out, mate."

You just have to find out, my arse.

"Look, why can't you just keep this thing as it was first planned? I'm sure Lily would appreciate the opportunity to snog James' stupid face," Remus said, his voice tinged with the frustration he felt. James made a noice that sounded suspiciously like a gasp and opened his mouth to protest, but Remus ignored him and kept going. "Okay, maybe not for the next ten years, but one day she surely would."

“For the record, my face is unbelievably handsome, thank you!”

The oldest Black brother crossed his arms across his chest, the rag he used to clean the dishes dangling from his hand and making a puddle of water beside him. James glared daggers at it. "You see, even if you politely declined our offer to bring some spice into your already boring life, we can't take no for an answer. We spent our free time searching up a single spell in the library. A bloody library, Moony! So, no. If you and [Name] don't kiss by the end of the Christmas, this prank will be considered unsuccessful, which is something the Marauders don't do."

Sirius' eyes held the same look of determination they had when Peter confidently told the rest of the group that he, Sirius Black, was going to win the snogging bet they made in their fourth year. Remus hadn't liked that gaze then, and he certainly didn't like it now, because he knew what it meant. Peter had won that bet. Which just means . . .

Remus saw his short life flash before his own eyes. This was not going to end up in the way he would like to. A bad, no wait, a horrible idea. But before he could do something to save himself from the coming catastrophe, the whole point of the prank entered the kitchen with a lopsided smile on your face. The boy always thought you were pretty. A pair of eyes that seemed to brighten up whenever your favourite topic is being talked about. A warm smile that makes Remus feel the comfort you gave to him. He wouldn't need to drink Veritaserum to admit that he fancied you.

"I just finished unpacking my stuff, so if you want to do something together . . ." you trailed off, looking into their eyes with an inviting gaze. Remus awkwardly moved his gaze away, heart pumping against rib cage.

James, being the little shit he is, nudged Sirius with a knowing smirk and nodded his head in the direction of his room. "Well, it looks like our job is finished here, doesn't it, Padfoot? We should help Moony here to unpack his trunk. Come on."

Before the werewolf could do anything to stop his two best mates, James grabbed Sirius by the crook of his elbow and ran into his room, leaving the pair of obvious friends alone in the Potters' kitchen.

You looked around, a little surprised by the sudden reaction of James and Sirius. Remus stood next to the sink, drying his hands on a rag. "That was new."

"Yeah, it was."

You leaned over the table, a playful glint was dancing in your eyes. "So, they left to unpack your trunk, huh? I wouldn't let them do it if I were in your place, because I know how much of a messy person James Potter can be. Sirius does look like one too. I've seen your dorm," you let out a laugh that Remus quickly joined.

"You're not wrong. Last time they helped me unpack, I couldn't find half my things for a week. They think it's hilarious to hide my socks in the most ridiculous places."

A playful twinkle sparkled in your eyes at the sudden memory. "Well, at least you know where to find them when something goes missing. I once found a pair of James' socks in the Astronomy Tower. Still haven't figured out how they got there."

"You know," the boy started, but his dark eyes caught the green and white blur above your head, and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. They really had the guts to do it! A spring of mistletoe hung precariously above you, clearly placed by James and Sirius.

Thinking quickly, Remus took your palm in his and met your gaze again. "You could help me unpack my things, so I know where they are and all that stuff you need to know about unpacking."

With a nod, you let him took the lead. "Okay, Remus. I'll save you from them."

Remus was going to kill these two.

TWO

The weather seemed to understand the friend group's wishes for snow, much to their excitement, prompting them all go out and mess around in the white blanket of cold snow. They couldn't charm snowballs yet, and the ice on the lake next to the Potter residence was a bit thin for their liking, but it was fun either way. Laughter and shouts of excitement filled the crisp air as they chased each other, fell into snowdrifts, and made the most of the wintry day.

When they returned home, it was already dark outside, and four mugs of hot chocolate were waiting for them, accompanied by Mrs Potter's cheerful face. The warmth and aroma of the sweet liquid welcomed them inside, melting away the chill from the frost.

James and Sirius, their energy finally exhausted, soon trudged off to bed after they finished their cups, leaving Remus and you to linger a bit longer. The house was quiet now, the only sounds the gentle cracking of fire and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors.

If only it could be like this every day, Remus thought to himself as he sat on the couch beside the fireplace. The flames radiated warmth, and with the mug in his hands, everything felt nice again. No stressing over studying, no thoughts for the upcoming war. He was in his own bubble, praying it wouldn't break at any given moment.

In his lap lay an opened annotated copy of a book you had given him as a Christmas present in your fourth year. He had read the book many times, and each time he found something new that caught his interest. It was like a never-ending story he never planned to finish.

"Hey, Remus."

The sudden sound of your voice and the feeling of your frame settling next to him, a knee brushing against his tight, made him shut the book with unnecessary force. The boy could feel your eyes on the side of his face so, he turned to meet your gaze, brown meeting [eye colour].

Remus had really pretty eyes. The rich brown seemed to melt in the warm room like the sweetest chocolate you had ever put on your tongue, with hazel sparks dancing in them. His eyes held something you couldn't quite put your finger on — a mystery, just like his person. But there was one thing you knew for sure: you would find comfort in them no matter the situation.

As you looked closer, you noticed faint freckles dusting his cheeks. Had they always been there? The gentle smattering of the constellation added to the roughness around his scars, making him appear even more breathtakingly beautiful. You found yourself mesmerized by the little details of his face, each one telling a story of its own.

Remus decided to talk first. "What are you doing here? Not that I mind, I'm just wondering. It's pretty late, you know," after those words left his mouth, Remus felt like a total fool. Merlin, talking with you was getting more difficult since he realized he liked you more than a friend should.

But when he saw your lips curving into a smile, he knew he hadn't messed up. "Can't sleep. It's hard to do so when you have to sleep on a different bed."

"Yeah, I can understand."

Once the comfortable silence fell upon the two of you, Remus wanted to stay like this as long as possible. Life with you in it, even after Hogwarts, would be like a dream come true. You could adopt a cat or a dog together. Remus had always wanted a pet . . . The thought of a future with you filled him with a warm, hopeful feeling.

Suddenly, you were standing on your feet in front of Remus, the book no longer in his lap. Instead, you were holding it open, reading the first words he had written on the front pages. He could feel his neck and ears start to warm up, and he was sure it wasn't from the unfinished hot chocolate.

"Nice book you got here. Must have been a nice present, don't you think?" You were teasing him, he knew it from the glint in your eyes, and you seemed to be enjoying it, too. So, he played along.

"Oh, I don't know, would you be surprised if your friends bought you a book when they see you every morning reading them?"

"This one must be your favourite, as the front is starting to lose its colour."

At the further mention of the book, Remus forgot about the teasing at took it from your hands. "You should read it, [Name], it's a really . . . ," he trailed off again, like he did yesterday, and it started to confuse you more and more. His eyes were looking at something above your head, too. Was the moving photo of little James framed behind you that interesting?

When you started to turn and look, Remus quickly turned you to face the direction of the kitchen and pushed the half filled mug with warm liquid into your palms. "I want more of that. Could you help me make it? Thanks, [Name]."

Remus was ready to push James and Sirius onto the thin ice tomorrow.

THREE

Remus didn't like packing. First, he needed to pack at least a day or two before leaving so he could sleep without overthinking, but he did overthink it anyway. Did I pack everything? I think I had more stuff when I got here . . . He usually spends half of the train ride worrying about things like this; the rest was joking around with his friends and saying goodbye for the summer. And second, he didn't like leaving. The places he went to — whether it was Hogwarts or the Potters' — had a special place in the depths of his heart. The only comforting thought in his head about it all was that he would come back.

With a sigh, he started to pick up his jumpers from the Gryffindor-themed rug James had in his room. They had spent their first Christmas together when they were twelve, and the boys slept in separated bedrooms to Mrs Potter's wishes. She wanted them to have their own privacy (they shared a dorm at school, after all), but as time went on and she realised her boys wanted to be together, the witch let them do as they wanted. You got your own room as this was your first holiday here.

As much as Remus thought about the task being annoying and gloomy, it was kind of relaxing to his mind into something else. James and Sirius hadn't tried anything on you two in the last few days, which worried the werewolf a bit. What were they planning? It wasn't like them, giving up on something they were so determined about.

At a knock on the door, Remus put his just-finished folded socks into his trunk and went to open the it. It couldn't be James and Sirius, and the adult Potters had gone for a walk into the village, which just leaves . . . you.

Oh.

Remus opened the door and revealed, in fact, your glowing face. His eyes took a look at you, and he found himself thinking how pretty you looked.

Your nose and cheeks looked like they were freezing, but it somehow made your face glow. Your beanie covered half of your forehead, and there was a huge spot of unmelted snow on it, probably thrown at you by one of the Marauders. But your eyes still caught his attention first. They showed your real emotions, and you were happy right now, which made Remus feel happy too.

Your smiled reached the corners of your eyes. Remus liked your smile. "Hi! Knew I would find you here. As you can probably see, we are having a snowball fight and I was wondering if you wanted to join me? James is being a git . . .”

Remus couldn't help but chuckle at your enthusiastic invitation. The idea of being outside with you, engaging in a playful snowball fight against his brothers, sounded far more appealing than packing his things. He also knew that if James was being a git, he'd have to intervene to keep the playing field fair.

He listened to you, he really did, but his attention was drawn by the green plant, dangling from the doorframe above your heads. However, this time you followed his gaze and saw what he was always searching for.

"Oh."

Before he could regret what he was about to do, his hands found your cheeks, and his eyes focused on yours, not bothered by the cold that started to reach his palms. "Can I kiss you?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The heartfelt laughter of James and Sirius outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in that small, shared moment. A soft smile played on your lips as you voiced your inner desires.

"Yes, Remus, you can."

You placed your hands on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape, and gently pulled him towards you. Your slightly cold lips met his warm ones, and the contrast sent shivers through both of you. The sensation was intoxicating, a rush of emotions and sensations that made your heart race. The warmth from his mouth spread through you, melting away any lingering cold from outside.

Remus's hands slid from your cheeks to cradle the back of your head, his fingers doing the same thing as yours, threading through your hair. You could feel the slightest tremble in them, a sign that he was just as affected by the kiss as you were.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, and you took a moment to catch your breath. Your eyelids fluttered open, and the look you shared was one of pure emotion. His brown eyes, now darker with desire and something deeper, gazed into yours with a mix of awe and admiration.

It felt like a core memory of your new found relationship was forming, one that will be forever treasured and reminded with nothing but adoration.

Remus was glad about the whole mistletoe prank but the boys will not hear a word from him about it. They were right, the Marauders won't let a prank go unfinished.

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svtswhorehouse · 9 hours

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DATING SEUNGCHEOL INCLUDES…. — sfw

• sugar daddy or boyfriend? (the answer is both.)

• the definition of a REAL MAN. no one has ever treated you with as much respect or given you as much love as seungcheol has.

• you're his pretty little passenger princess and he's your personal chauffeur.

• mom and dad of the group, duhhhh.

• he would drop anything and everything just to give you his undivided attention, no matter how important it is.

• yes. he would still love you if you were a worm.

• he would definitely give you his bank card without a second thought. it would also be linked to your phone, he insists on you using it always and would throw a fit when you don't.

• you would also give him your card at times and he always takes it without a fight, but would never use it.

• would take you out on dates in which you can dress up pretty and maybe dine at a fancy and EXPENSIVE restaurant. don't be fooled though. he also pays attention to the little things so if you're into books, he's taking you to a library themed restaurant. if you like animals, he's booking a ticket to orlando and ya'll are going to the rainforest cafe or something.

• you would never have to lift a finger ever again.

• he would wash your car, fill it up with gas, and take it to go get serviced without any complaints.

• he would burn down the world for you.

• he always puts you first. if he had to pick between you or the company (if they ever made him choose) he doesn't even need to think, it would be you every time.

• also your body guard ! any social gathering ya'll attend, he always has his eyes on you no matter how far away you are from him.

• times in which you do drive yourself, ya'll are definitely the type of couple to have life 360 on each other. he would text you saying to slow the fuck down if you're speeding.

• no matter how much you insist he goes to sleep and no matter how late you're getting home — it could be 4 in the morning, he will ALWAYS wait up for you.

• he has the habit of buying you anything you even slightly mention. he also pays close attention to the things you look at when out shopping together and they would show up delivered to your apartment the next day. he would take the heat from you, but still would continue to spend his money on you.

• when you have a bad day, he is already there with open arms ready to give you the biggest bear hug and shield you from the rest of the world.

• whenever you two go out together, he always has a hand on your back to guide you through crowds or just so everyone knows that you're off limits.

• if you ever lose during game nights with friends or really anywhere, he would do the penalties for you!

• he always makes sure you're on the inside when walking near a street.

• if you ever doubt yourself or feel insecure, prepare for a long serious conversation with lots of tears because he WILL NOT be having any of that. no. not when he thinks you're one of the most beautiful, talented, and honorable people he knows.

• you have never felt so safe and secure than when he's around.

• he will constantly be saying "i love you." definitely the type to call you back immediately if you forget to say it and hang up.

• he has a personal agenda out for revenge against anyone who hurts or disrespects you in any type of way.

• he will be your designated driver for not only you BUT your friends as well during girl's night out.

• he may be competitive, but when it comes to you, he would let you win just so he can see a smile on your face.

• says he CAN'T (won't because he's stubborn) fall asleep if he's not cuddling you.

• he becomes the softest most kindhearted person in the world when it comes to you.

• he gets jealous easily, but he trusts you with his whole heart so he doesn't dwell on it for too long.

• when it comes to arguing, no matter if he was in the right or wrong, he is always the first to apologize. definitely the type to get you chocolate, flowers, and ALWAYS gets you a teddy bear after.

• would make you sit on his back when doing pushups or would give you a piggy back ride when he is doing pull-ups !

• he LOVES when you wear his clothes. you would always find his shirts or hoodies on your side of the closet and be like "hmm, how did this get here?" ask your boyfriend.

• rarely ever calls you by your name. always calls you baby or something cute. he also insists that you don't call him seungcheol. he will pout if you do.

• definitely impressed your parents right off the bat. your family absolutely adores him and your parents treat him like a son.

• he would tease you by giving you a hug when he's all sweaty after practice.

• he INSISTS on picking you up EVERYDAY after work.

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txttletale · 2 days

Note

If we're asking about games on your list of favourites, as someone who adored Paradise Killer, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! I always enjoy your analysis.

so first of all the aesthetics of paradise killer are really good. usually games that were written in english but read like translations from japanese irritated me, but here i think it is very much leaned into and embraced as an aesthetic and set of cultural signifiers in its own right, which i really enjoy. the character designs are outlandish and charming. but what i really like about it is like, the way the core premise works

in most detective games, there is a correct answer, and not getting it is a failure state. you can't end a case in ace attorney with your innocent client being convicted, you can't get the wrong guy in the frogware sherlock holmes games. and this invariably, even if the game is critical in other aspects, tends to come around to a fundamental faith in the legal system and authority, right--something that's kind of baked into the detective genre at a fundamental level.

paradise killer upends that by simply saying "you are the detective. get the facts you need, make a compelling argument, and if the authorities above you believe you then you get to distribute justice as you see fit." you arrive on the island you're investigating and you're immediately told "hey, this member of a disenfranchised underclass did it, we've already arrested him, here's the evidence." and absolutely nothing stops you from taking that evidence and walking into the trial room and presenting it and saying "yep, he did it!" and beating the game! it's not a 'bad ending', you don't get a big popup saying 'you're wrong', the powers that be just accept the convenient narrative you've been given to present and everything moves on.

i like this from both, like, an ideological perspective, and also from an interpersonal stakes perspective. in most detective games, you can't miss a crucial piece of evidence, either because the game will not proceed until you pick it up or because you'll be forced to restart the 'trial' or 'deduction' segment when you game over because you're missing it. in paradise killer, whatever argument you put forward, if enough evidence supports it--even if you know for a fact it's wrong!--leads to the person you're accusing being executed. so the stakes are much higher, right, because instead of a game over screen and trying again, getting it wrong means that's just... how the game ends, with an innocent person being executed.

and more importantly i think it does a fantastic job--better imo even than something like disco elysium--at deconstructing the fantasy of justice. a constant theme of the game and something that the protagonist repeats often is "there is a difference between facts and the truth". you can withhold evidence at trial because it implicates your friends, or misrepresent it to implicate that bitch you hate. nothing in the system exists to stop you getting wrong, in fact your superiors encourage you to make the easy completely stritched up conviction and move on with your life.

and at the end, even if you get it right, if you catch all the criminals--all the time you spend investigating this island shows that, like, the society you're part of is fucking evil! you're all deranged immortals making constant human sacrifices to your evil gods! and you don't change that by solving the case, the whole thing just packs up and moves on. you don't get any comfortable resolution to that or to your role in it. you can play lady love dies as a diehard true believer or as a dissident rebel but either way she's ultimately just another cog in a machine, dispensing an alien and uncaring justice that is only attached to any real morality or truth by your decision to do so. a genuinely incredible game.

plus i like how whenever you open it a voice says 'paradise killer' so you know you're playing paradise killer

#ask

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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 3 days

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🤍 SAFETY 🤍

Congrats, you made it. I created the safety fic. Wrote this in one day so be kind xx

“Okay, we’ll just go up, change, i’ll pop some advil and we’re good to go. Actually, do you want to order a snack from room service? When I saw the portion size at dinner, I already knew in my head that we might have to try the wings from the menu after all…”

The elevator doors close behind her and Travis just grins at the woman standing right in front of him. He feels a little buzzed, but far from being drunk. It’s that stage of feeling the alcohol that is nothing but feeling full of energy, letting loose, just… being happy. Happy because the blonde woman in his arms is as bubbly as he loves her to be. She’s light as a feather, as comfortable as she could possibly be right now. Which is something he hasn’t always been able to witness ever since she came into his life and turned everything upside down. He soaks up these moments, witnesses them in their full glory. There’s nothing quite as peaceful as seeing her happy. And it’s slowly becoming the one thing he wants to see for the rest of his life.

“We’ll do whatever you’re up to.” he ensures her once more. His hand wandering to her left cheek, gently stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles for a moment, her eyes sparkling a little bit as she moves closer to him, signaling him that she needs a kiss right now. Despite Ray standing right next to them, Travis leans down to her height, kissing her lips softly.

The massive elevator doors open with a ringing sound. Ray enters the upper level first, followed by Travis with Taylor holding his hand. It’s quiet in this part of the luxury Las Vegas hotel, nothing but the noise of Taylor’s high heels audible on the carpet. And Travis knows why. They’re the only ones staying on this floor, renting out a gorgeous suite with a view over the Las Vegas strip for the night. As much as he loves the crowds and the fun of Las Vegas - he’s learned to appreciate the silence, the privacy, the quietness he’s never been able to fully enjoy before. But now, there’s nothing as calming as being alone with her. Just him and her, and the whole world can wait. He’s found a form of peace and safety in the idea of being able to enjoy downtime not just alone, but with another human being. Before her, he could never sit with someone in silence. Before her… a time he can’t quite recall without the ache in his chest of wondering how he ever made it through the ups and downs of life without her by his side, holding his hand through all of it.

“I will be right outside.” Ray politely lets the both of them know once they get to their room. He opens the suite with a magnetic key card and the door open for the couple.

“Thanks, buddy.” Travis pats his shoulder, letting Taylor enter their hotel suite first. He closes the door behind them, watches Taylor make her way to the little night stand in the bedroom. In her gorgeous, dark green evening gown she sits down on her side of the bed, starts to rummage through her cosmetic bag. Travis just drops the jacket of his suit over the chair in front of him. Finally. He knows that him feeling warm and sweaty all night is nothing new. But wearing a suit tonight did not make it any more comfortable for him to be a real life yeti. Before attempting to change his outfit for the fun part of the night, he picks up the phone next to the tv remote, just presses a button. The blonde woman looks up at him confused, still trying to find the left over pack of advil that she threw into her little bag after getting back from Big Sur last weekend.

“Hi, I’m calling from room 1002. I would like to order some room service.”

The big man with the phone on his ear turns to her, and she smiles thankfully at him. Of course he would make sure she’s got everything she could possibly need in this moment.

“Yeah, I would like to get some wings. How many are on one plate? 5?”

“Get two.” she whispers from across the room.

“Alright, then two plates please. Also can we get another bottle of water and..”

“Diet coke, babe.” she whispers again.

“And two diet cokes.” he adds. “with ice.”

“Also, can we add some sauces to that? Do you… yes, great. We’ll go with that then. And a portion of mayonnaise, please.” he says, and she giggles at him, sending him a little butterfly kiss from across the room. She knows how much he hates mayonnaise, but she also knows that he is well aware of how much she loves it. One of the millions of kind gestures she was forced to get used to in the past months of being with this man.

“Thank you!” he says, then hangs up the phone again.

“You are just the best.” she says, dramatically, making him laugh. She’s gotten up from her spot on the bed by now, reaching for the half empty bottle of water standing next to him. Her hand lands on his shoulder and he can’t help but put his over hers for a moment.

“Of course I am.” he jokes, confusedly watches her pour herself some water into a glass. She then swallows two of the pills in her hand, emptying the glass of water in just a few seconds. He’s stood up by now, standing right in front of her with his white shirt still tucked into his trousers. His big hands on her shoulders, his eyes a little more longing than they were before.

“You good?” he asks, and she places the glass next to her again, a little out of breath from drinking the whole thing at once.

“Yeah, just.. headache. Will be better soon.”

“How’s your sunburn?”

“I’ll be fine, Trav.” she says, almost in a giggle because he’s been concerned all night. He gently moves the spaghetti straps of her dress over her shoulders. The fabric has clearly left a mark on the already redenned shoulders of hers. He lets out a compassionate sigh, then moves down to press a few butterfly kisses on her skin.

She giggles slightly. Partly because his beard tickles her, and partly because this is the third time tonight that he can’t help but love up on her sunburn.

“Your poor shoulders.” he mumbles in between the kisses.

“They’ll get through it.” she replies amusedly, as he lifts his head again, just looks apologetically into her face. She can read instantly what is going through his head. He feels responsible for her not feeling at her best tonight, because she stood right in the hot Arizona sun all day for him - watching him golf with Patrick, supporting him as recklessly as she always does.

“How ‘bout we just skip the party, undress and throw our own little party?” he mumbles, loves feeling her hands on his beard. She gently strokes his skin, a grin on her lips while gently shaking her head.

“My love, we’re here for work. For a good cause. I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

He nods, admires her once more for her strength, her commitment in supporting him and the things that matter to him. A feeling he hasn’t had with anybody else before. He doesn’t speak, enjoys feeling her hands in his neck. He leans closer to her, his nose touching hers.

“I love you so much, baby.” he just whispers, and she giggles, lifting her face to kiss the tip of his nose once.

“I love you, Trav.”

“Kiss?” he requests, and she leans in to press her lips against his. He sighs slightly, tasting the cherry flavour of her lipstick once more.

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

“What are you gonna wear?” she asks him, starts to go through her suitcase at the end of the room. She slowly kneels down, starts to rummage through the big case. He can’t help but laugh at her. In her ridiculously expensive dress, she just sits on the floor, going through the piles of clothes she was too lazy to move away this morning. All whilst his clothes are neatly folded and hung up in the built-in hotel closet. This clearly is one of their major differences. He likes having control over his possessions. Likes taking care of his things, having a system. Clarity. Neatness. And just like a little beautiful hurricane of joy, Taylor likes to let her things pile up, doesn’t really care about the materialistic things she owns. So chairs become hangers for pants and jackets. TV screens become a storage unit for long gucci gowns. All her shoes are just kicked aside right next to where she sits on the floor. She truly likes to live in a creative chaos. A beautiful, creative chaos.

“Just something comfortable. That’s for sure.”

“Mhm, this one?” she asks, holds up a little off-shoulder black dress. “or this one?”

“The black one.” he says, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to change. “Gives your sunburned shoulders some room to breathe.”

A big hand in her back, the moving lights on his face, the loud bass of music vibing so loudly, he can feel it in his bones. He can immediately tell that all eyes are on him and the woman in his arm. A normal reaction to being basically anywhere with her. He looks at Ray behind him, giving him a hand to signal clearly that he’s got her. He will not go anywhere without her consent. The next thing he notices is Patrick waving at him from across the room, signaling his friend to join him where they’re hanging out.

Together with Taylor, he tries to make his way through the crowd, phone cameras in the darkness right in her face the moment she is noticed. He looks down at her, his hand still more than protectively in her back. She’s forcing a smile, suppressing a yawn. He doesn’t care what she’s telling him. He knows she’s not feeling at her best tonight.

“Say a word and we’ll leave.” he says in her ear, hoping she could understand him through the noise. She looks up at him, a gentle smile on her lips and the little twinkle in her eyes that he loves so much. Her small hand moves to his chest, and she nods, her lips just forming a low “okay”.

A few moments later they have finally reached Britanny and Patrick, who were just chatting with a few other people through the noise. Taylor immediately goes to hug Britanny and Amber and Travis turns around to look for Ray. Travis then reaches for Taylor’s hands once more, makes her turn around to signal her that he will leave for a moment to get a drink. She just nods, doesn’t really react much and just keeps on chatting to the women in front of her. Travis once more turns around, signaling Ray now that he’s leaving for a moment. The security guard immediately steps up closer to Taylor, keeping his eyes on her surroundings. Only a few moments later, the big football player steps closer to his group of friends again, nodding at Ray who immediately steps aside and loosens up again. Travis doesn’t interrupt Taylor who is laughing with Britanny about something. He just hands her a drink, and she smiles at him thankfully for a moment. Vodka Cranberry. Her favorite.

Travis now turns to Patrick and Ross, as well as David Brooker who stands right next to them. He’s honored when the man approaches him, gushing to him about how impressed he’s been with his performance this past season. How excited he is for what’s ahead for Travis. He can’t believe David Brooker even knows who he is. Just one of these moments, in which he can’t believe that this is his life.

Time flies, drinks flow, and people approach him for some small talk. Every now and then, he makes sure to go and check up on Taylor, who has been her chatty self all evening. It’s always been one of his dreams. Having a partner support him at these events. Someone who’s as personable as he is. Someone who can have a good chat with anyone he works with. And he loves her for it. He loves to feel this unimaginable support for the first time in his life.

With free hands, he steps up behind her. The faces of the women in front of Taylor already wandering to the tall man appearing behind her. His big hands make their way between her arms landing right on her stomach. She immediately melts into his arms, a big smile on her face as she feels his gentle kiss on her cheek.

“You good, baby girl?” he mumbles right into her ear, making sure no one else hears his words, no one else except her. She just looks up at him, both her hands firmly on his, and she nods.

“Yeah, you?” she asks to check on him, turns around in his arms, and seems glad to see him nod with a smile on his face. He loves to feel her hands move into the familiar spot on his cheek, a sign that she wants to be close to him. He leans down, kissing her. This time, he can feel her giggle into the kiss, and even through the loud music in the background he can feel her sigh. She pulls back, a giggle on her lips, and fire in her eyes.

“Not here.” he just mumbles and she starts laughing in shock, unable to process that he thinks this kiss implied that she would ever do something as risky as hooking up with him in a public place.

“I did not insinuate that, oh my god.” she defends herself immediately, laughing as he presses her closer to him. He kisses her hair a few times, moving closer to mumble into her ear while hugging her closely.

“As I said, I’m happy to leave anytime. Like, literally anytime.”

She laughs once more, slowly pulls back from him, pretends to hit him once. But it just makes him laugh more. She just shakes her head, but her eyes are saying something very different. She can’t wait to get closer to him, either.

“Tay, do you want another drink?” Britanny suddenly interrupts the two, Taylor nods, says something to the smaller blonde woman, which is incomprehendable to him. She then turns around again, facing Travis. He laughs at her, a bit surprised about the fact that she decided to let loose tonight after all. But he’s glad. He’s so glad she’s enjoying herself in his circles.

His phone screen lights up through the dark, and for a moment he’s surprised. 3.12am. He can’t believe how late it already is. And he can feel the buzz slowly turning into something more. He finishes his almost empty glass, making a mental note to himself to not drink anymore tonight. He’s not drunk, but he knows that he will be hung over if he keeps on drinking now.

Travis places the empty glass next to Patrick’s, checks the text on his phone that he just received a moment ago, then locks his phone again before letting it slide into his pocket. He looks over to where Miranda and Britanny are standing. For a moment, he searches the tall blonde sticking out next to them. But she’s nowhere in sight. Travis moves his head, looking to the other side of the packed night club. She’s not standing next to Amber either. Her security is also nowhere in sight. He feels a wave of worry rise in his chest, slowly stands up. He shouldn’t have that last drink. Trav slowly makes his way over to Britanny. She looks at him, buzzed as well, struggling to understand him as he speaks into her ear. She finally understands then after a few moments, nodding, letting him know that Taylor had made her way to the ladies a few minutes ago. For a moment, he feels the anxiety in his chest dissolve again. He didn’t know this side about himself. He didn’t know this overprotective side, which Taylor clearly has brought out in him. With firm steps, he makes his way through the crowd, people high-fiving him, patting his shoulders. But he’s got a destination this time, and won’t get distracted by the small talk surrounding him. He finally can see the lid up restroom sign next to the bar. That’s when he spots Ray, both eyes on the crowds in front of the door leading to the ladies bathrooms. He’s thankful for him. Thankful to know that she’s always got someone looking out for her.

“Tay’s in the bathroom?” he asks, and Ray nods. Trav just waits next to the security guard, taking out his phone once more. 3.17am. She must be as tired as him, probably ready to head off. After a few seconds of waiting, he then witnesses a swarm of women exit the bathroom. He just stands there, smiling apologetically. After all, he knows how creepy it must come across to stand right in front of the women’s bathrooms just staring. A few moments later, a certain blonde finally makes her way outside. Her hair wavy, her short black dress showcasing her incredible legs, an empty glass in her hand, walking a bit more unsteady than she usually does. He has to let out a giggling breath, his smile turning even bigger when she sees him.

“Hi baby.” she says loudly, her hands immediately reaching for him. He just laughs at her, placing both his hands on her hips.

“Are you a little tipsy?” he laughs, gives her a happy kiss and Taylor laughs as well, nodding heavily. He just embraces her in a gentle hug, feels the cameras of people’s phone facing them, yet he doesn’t even care. Presses a few kisses on her cheek before letting go.

“I am and.. I don’t even know why. I just had two drinks, but I can really feel it. How did you notice?”

He pulls back and nods, taking the empty glass from her.

“You went to the bathroom with an empty glass, babe. And took it back out with you. That’s how I can tell.”

She suddenly looks at the glass Travis just took from her, then looks back at him in disbelief and starts to laugh again. This time, she’s covering her mouth in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I.. I officially am losing it.”

“You’re so funny.” he mumbles after leaving the glass on the counter of the bar. “Want to take off?”

She just shakes her head immediately.

“Noooo, not yet.” she reacts a bit too intense for his taste.

“There’s this guy, who’s hilarous.” she mouths in his ear, and for a moment he feels his churn in confusion. “He claims to be one of your best friends. And I was like..” she pulls back, folding her arms together in a dramatic manner, “okay, sure, babe. You’re Trav’s best friend but you haven’t hung out in a year? Mhm, sure thing.”

He smiles at her, can’t recall a time he’s witnessed her this loose and funny.

“Also, I was like… sorry, but I’m Trav’s best friend, okay? I am.” she mumbles, almost aggressively, and it makes his heart beat faster for a moment. With his hands on her hips, he pulls her closer. She suddenly looks up at him a bit worried. “I am your best friend, right?”

He smiles again, nods slowly.

“You are. You’re my best friend.” he mumbles into her ear in the hug, feeling her head rest on his shoulder. She really is very much drunk tonight, and he’s living for this hilarious version of his girlfriend.

“You’re my best friend, too, Trav.” she says then, again, a tad too loud than she usually would, but he doesn’t mind.

“Sure you don’t want to leave?”

She slowly pulls back, nods with a smile.

“Just thirty more minutes, okay?” she says, and he nods. He’s glad she got to let loose tonight, even if that’s not something he thought would happen today. He can see very well that she’s drunk, but he wants her to have this moment. Especially her. The person who is always so well put together. He gets to let go like this more often than she does. And he’s happy he gets to be here in the rare occasion that she does let go.

“Alright, let me get you a regular coke, Tay. You need it.” he says with a smile on his face, but a certain seriousness in his tone that she appreciates.

“Yeah, thank you, baby.”

“And I said to my wife, Travis Kelce. This guy. This guy will make it.”

Trav just listens to the man in his fifties in front of him gush about him to his colleagues. He blushes a little, pretends to slide a few dollars to the man for his compliments, which makes Patrick, Ross and Harry laugh even more. He turns around for a second, just when he notices Brit approaching Patrick, clearly signaling him that she’s done for the night and ready to hit the hay. He turns around for a moment, finds Taylor still standing next to Amber and Chris. But there’s also another man he hadn’t noticed before. The guy is keeping his distance, clearly, but keeps on talking into Taylor’s ear through the noise. He doesn’t mind to see her chatting to people, men included. But what he doesn’t like is the fact that she seems to constantly loose her own balance in her heels, waddles from the left to the right. He also doesn’t appreciate the man’s hand touching Taylor’s naked arm. A boundary she would never let a stranger man cross. But she’s not moving. Something doesn’t feel right to him.

Travis slowly leaves the group of people he was just talking to, and makes his way up to his girlfriend. He places his hand on her back but she doesn’t react. The man next to her has stopped talking to her, just nods at Travis with a weird smile. Travis however, looks at Taylor confusedly now, his hand on her back caressing her gently. Nothing. She still hasn’t clocked that he’s got his hand on her bare back. He starts to worry slightly. All she does is hold her empty glass in both her hands, looking into a void.

“Baby?”

She suddenly notices him.

“Oh hey.”

Taylor faces him, and he immediately knows she’s not okay. Her eyes are glassy, her pupils are dilated. She’s very much pale, trying to balance herself on her heels.

“You okay?” he whispers into her ear, ready to take her to her hotel room. It’s been a fun night but her current state is something he hadn’t experienced before since knowing her. The fun is over for him. And it clearly is for her.

“What?” she looks up at him again, struggling to understand any of his words right now.

“You feeling okay?” he asks again, and she seems to slowly understand through the noise.

“Yeah, just talking to Amber and Chris.” she responds to him, and he doesn’t believe her for a second. Amber is fully focused on chatting to Miranda who stands right next to her. No Chris is even in sight. Travis looks back at his girlfriend, very well aware that she’s trying to act normal, which worries him even more. He can see she’s not feeling well, and he wishes she would admit it to him.

“You sure?”

She nods, both hands still clinging onto the empty glass.

“Want to leave?”

She shakes her head again. Something is up. She seems different than the tipsy, drunk Taylor he kissed by the bathroom twenty minutes ago. She’s not just drunk. There’s a kind of apathy filling her eyes that wrenches his gut. He hates seeing her this unstable, unsure. His hand on her back drawing gentle circles. He leans his head down to her again, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. Her skin is still hot from the sunburn she got today. But her confused look after he kissed her makes him feel more unsettled than before.

“I really think we should head out, sweetie.” he tries again, but she doesn’t react. Still stares into nothing, pretending to look at the people in front of her who are clearly drawn to their own conversations.

“Can you.. can you get me some water?” she says then. Travis leans closer to hear her properly, immediately nods as soon as he understands what she needs. He presses a kiss onto her cheek, clearly worried, reaching for the empty glass in her hands. He has no idea what she’s been drinking, but he surely knows that this is not the same glass from before, when she was nibbling on the full sugar coke he got her. But Taylor won’t let go of the empty glass. It’s only just then that he realizes how tightly she’s clenching it. A bit confused but more worried than before, Travises hand lands on her back for the fifth time tonight.

“Babe, if you give me the empty glass, I can..”

“Oh, sorry.” she mumbles, lets go of the glass suddenly. Travis looks around for a bit, trying to scan the room for Brittany. He can’t seem to find her anywhere though.

“Hey, how about you sit down for a moment while I get you some water?”

She suddenly doesn’t fight him anymore, almost stumbles over her own feet while walking with him. She then sits down on one of the lounges by the side. He quickly waves towards Ray, signals him to come closer. The security guard immediately looks concerned, but Travis just whispers in his ear to stay here with her while he’s getting her a glass of water. The man nods, remains close to Taylor while being fully focused on her surroundings again. While making his way to the bar, Travis feels worry rise in him. Like a tidal wave, slowly, but with a force he hadn’t experienced before. He realizes in this moment that this is the first time he really cares about someone. More than himself. He wouldn’t mind if anything happened to him if it would mean that the clumsy, tall blonde sitting on this lounge is okay and happy.

While walking to the bar, he keeps on looking back to where she sits to make sure she’s okay. This is not the first time he’s witnessed her being drunk. But it is the first time he’s witnessed her this out of it. Just sits there like an empty shell, staring into nothing, not talking to anyone, not being chatty or giggly anymore.

As he makes his way back to her, just a few moments later, is when his intrusive thoughts of worry finally win. This time, she’s not sitting there as apathetic and motionless as she was before. This time, she’s sitting there, looking from left to right like a terrified deer on a dark road. It’s not hard to see how anxious she is. Not hard notice her leg moving uncontrollably. She’s looking around with a lost look on her face. He can’t believe it, but she looks.. scared? Scared of her surroundings, looking down at her hands every few seconds to make sure they’re still there. Her little prada handbag fell to the floor and she didn’t even notice. As soon as Travis sits down next to her again, right after having picked up her bag is when Taylor reaches for his arm, and he notices just now how heavy she’s breathing.

“Something is wrong.” she mumbles through the loud music of the night club.

“Tay…”

“I don’t feel good. I.. don’t feel good at all. I can’t see properly, and my hands...” she says with panic in her voice , leaning forward to cradle her head in her hands. Almost as if her hands could help her see clearly again. But it’s not working. She panics even more when she realizes that it’s not working, looks back down at her hands again.

“I can’t see and I can’t feel my hands and… I feel really sick.” she whimpers then, is on the verge of crying.

“I’m really scared, baby. I…” Her hands keep reaching for his, and he manages to place his arm protectively around her. The water glass in his other hand. He takes a deep breath. They need to get out of here. Right now.

“Have some water, here.”

He can see her trying to reach for the glass in his hand, but she misses it. Everything she sees, she sees double. Trav looks at her in deep worry. It seems like she lost full control over her hands and once she notices herself, he can see the purest form of panic in her drowsy eyes. She’s close to tears, trying to reach for the glass with shaking hands.

“I...” she starts to take quick and short breaths. For a moment, Travis reaches for her sweaty and cold hand. By no means is he calm in this moment, but he wants to prevent her from collapsing or hyperventilating.

“Hey, everything’s alright. I got you. You’re safe.”

He carefully helps her press the glass onto her mouth. With shaking hands, she gulps down the water glass, both hands holding desperately onto his with closed eyes. When she’s done, she opens her eyes again, almost disappointed that the weird feeling hasn’t passed. She still sees everything double, feels like fainting any second. Trav has his arm around her, and she’s holding his hand with both of her hands. But he feels so far away. She’s scared. Scared to loose control. Scared of what is happening to her. Scared.

Travis places the now empty water glass next to him, can see in Ray’s face that the securty guard is starting to get worried, too. There’s cameras pointing at her, and the last thing he wants is for people to notice her struggling. She’s more vulnerable in this moment than she’s ever been in public, he knows. And he will do anything in his power to not cause a scene in here with her.

“She’s.. she’s not feeling well.” he explains to the security guard. “We’ll leave now but I don’t want people to… can you.. can you just walk first and we..?”

Travis clearly struggles to find the right words to make sense in this moment but the man in front of him nods, and immediately understands.

Trav gets up, helps Taylor stand up as well. He pulls her into a hug as her knees are about to give in.

“I want to go home, please. I want to..”

“I’ll get you home. We’re going home now. Don’t worry, okay. I got you. Just take a moment to breathe, and then we will walk right to our hotel room.” he whispers, knowing that his instructions right now just fall on deaf ears. She quietly cries into his shoulder, her breathing patterns being as fast as before. All she does is whimmer into his ear, begging him for help. He feels sick. Not sure whether she needs an ambulance, an IV or just a whole lot of rest. The only thing that clocks right in this moment for him is the fact that she was drugged. That someone, probably the strange guy from before, has slipped something into her drink to knock her out and make her as weak as she is now. It’s not his first time in Las Vegas, and it’s not the first time he’s witnessed a young woman collapse in some night club because a disgusting guy had something else in mind. He’s well aware about so-called ‘rape drugs’ but never in a million years did he think that it would shatter him this deeply to witness someone as pure and beautiful and strong as Taylor fall victim to this crime.

It might not be the first time he’s witnessing someone being drugged, but in this moment, while hearing her cries in his ear, is when he realizes that it is his first time witnessing someone he loves soo deeply being abused right in front of his eyes. Someone he swore he would protect at all costs. Someone who came here, to this place, just for him, relying on him to be safe.

She thought she was safe here with him.

“Trav..” she cries into his ear again, her arm moving up and down his, almost as if she’s looking for him. But he’s right here. Right here holding her in his arms.

“I’m here, I’m always here. Just close your eyes, and hold on, okay? You can do it.” He whispers into her ear over and over again. Cameras are pointing at them, even more so when the DJ decides to play one of Taylor’s songs as part of his set. The people in this club start singing it to her, yet Taylor is nowhere near being able to react. He doesn’t want her to have to witness this moment in her current state, just lovingly presses her face into his neck, turning his head to kiss her. His left hand is holding her upright while making his way through the crowd with her. His right hand is gently on her head, pressing it against his chest and shielding her from the crowds. It takes two minutes to get to the exit of the club. Two horrifying minutes until they have finally left the busy club and step into the big lobby connecting the club to their hotel. A few drunk people make their way over to them, phones directed at the both of them, asking Taylor for a picture. Travis is glad to find Ray pushing people out of the way whilst he’s busy just getting her to the elevator at the end of the room. He feels her exhausted moans with every step she has to take. Oh, what he would give to be able to carry her in this moment. What he would give to not have any people standing in this lobby, filming their every step.

With his hand still pressing her head against his chest is when they finally make it to the elevator. Ray presses the button and they step inside. It takes another two seconds and the doors close. Finally. In this moment, he can finally breathe. With one swift motion, he’s lifted Taylor up, now carries her bridal style while standing in the elevator. Ray looks at Travis concerned, who’s just fully focused on Taylor. She mumbles a few anxious, crying, incomprehensible things into his chest. But all he does is kiss her, assure her that he’s here, that she’s not alone, that he’s taking care of her now.

“Does she need a doctor?” Ray says, doesn’t want to overstep Travis but is well aware that it’s his duty to make sure she’s safe. He’s getting paid to keep this woman safe and right now, she’s passed out in her boyfriend’s arms.

Travis looks into Ray’s eyes, and he shamefully nods. He feels so embarrassed to look into the security guard’s face. To know that this man also relied on Travis being there, while he kept his distance.

“I think someone put something in her drink when I.. when I wasn’t there. I just don’t want to.. to find any tweets about this tomorrow. I’ll call Tree first and get someone to look at her.”

Ray nods, asking Travis if he needs help. He shakes his head, is way too focused on Taylor in his arms. Her eyes are fully closed now, but she’s not sleeping. Suffering cries are still escaping her mouth every few seconds. Her hand is clawing into his shirt. Almost as if she’s desperate to hold onto him. Travis leans down again, kissing her face once more. He’s sweating, full of panic. All he can do is assure her that he’s here. That she’s safe. That she’s finally safe. For the first time really tonight.

A few moments later the elevator doors opens again and Travis manages to carry Taylor into the suite. Ray opens the door to their bedroom and helps Travis step inside with Taylor on his arm. He slowly walks up to her side of the bed, almost stumbling over one of her shoes she just dropped next to her bed before when getting ready for this night out. Breathing heavily, he slowly lays her down on top of the bed sheets. He just swallows seeing her so weak. Just the thought of this guy from before having exactly this view in mind makes him feel sick. Travis sits down on the bed right next to her, starts to unbutton the clasps of her heels.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m.. I’m just gonna undress her so that she’s more comfortable and then call Tree. Can you… step outside please?” he says. Travis looks into Ray’s eyes and clearly sees him hesitate for a moment. He understands that his job is to make sure Taylor is safe. But in this moment, the only thing Travis cares about is that Taylor feels safe. And he will never in a million years strip her naked in her most vulnerable state, in front of a man who is working for her.

“Buddy, I’m taking care of her. Please give us some privacy.” he says, adding a slightly annoyed “Please.”

The brown-haired man nods slowly, then closes the hotel door behind him. As soon as the door falls into the lock, Travis stops for a moment, just to breathe. He keeps on fiddling to unbutton the clasp of her high heels, realizing quickly that it’s difficult to open these with his big ass fingers. After a moment he then finally succeeds, carefully sliding the shoes from her feet. He looks back into her face, glad to have finally found her in a somewhat comfortable position. She doesn’t move, has both her eyes closed and doesn’t seem to notice him undressing her. The make up on her face is smudged from crying. Trav feels tears building up in his own eyes, just seeing her like this. He hates to do this to her, but has to reach for both of her shoulders to help her sit up for a moment. She opens her eyes, still seems to be asleep as he pulls her forward to let her fall into a hug with him. She turns her head, nuzzling into his neck as he starts to unzip the back of her black dress. She will thank him tomorrow for not making her sleep in this tight party dress.

“Almost done, baby. You’ll be so much more comfortable when this is off.” he mumbles. She lets out a cooing sound, and Travis carefully lets her fall back onto the pillow. She mumbles something incomprehensible again as he starts to pull down her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and within a few seconds she’s lying there, on top of her bedsheet, fully exposed, in nothing but her thong. She doesn’t move as he just carefully hangs her dress over the chair behind him. The chair full of her stuff, that he so amusedly made fun about earlier today. Earlier, when she was just her bubbly, happy self. Not another drugged girl getting undressed while being unconscious.

Travis feels tears building up in his eyes, again, and for a moment he realizes how sweaty he really is. Not because he just carried her to the room, but because the panic and fear on the inside are getting the very best of him right now.

He reaches for his big red KC shirt that she always sleeps in, manages to pull the shirt over her head, and walk her dead arms into each sleeve, one by one. She just lets out a loud sigh.

“I know, baby. I know.”

A few seconds later, after having properly dressed her, he fiddles the blanket under her and manages to tuck her in. Finally. And then, for a moment, it’s finally silent. He just sits there, watching her sleep. His hand moves to her head, stroking gently over her head as he feels a tear run down his cheek. All he wanted was for her to have a fun weekend with him in Vegas. All she did was fly out for him, and ended up getting violated like this, under his own eyes. Trav moves closer to her and kisses her hot forehead a few times.

“You’re safe now. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” he whispers, not sure if his words are meant to calm the blonde sleeping woman or himself. He double checks once more if her feet are properly tucked into the blanket, knowing very well that she gets cold feet quickly. Travis then stands up, reaching for the phone in his pocket and leaves the bedroom to call Tree.

With shaking hands, Travis just sits there, leaning against the bed rest, listening to the man in front of him talk while not letting go of Taylor’s head on the pillow. He tries to take mental notes, feels the imminent pressure to make sure to remember everything exactly as the doctor is saying it. It’s okay for her to move in her sleep with the IV still attached. When she wakes up, he can help her remove the tube from her arm. If she wakes up before the IV liquid is fully absorbed, he needs to give her another aspirin tablet. If she starts to feel sick, it’s important to make sure she’s in a stable position. She should regain consciousness in a bit, but it’s advised for her to get another IV drip tomorrow morning. She will be okay. And if she’s not, he’s recommended to call 911 immediately.

Travis just nods, taking mental notes. Ray is standing there at the other side of the room, still talking to Tree on the phone. Travis just slowly lets go of Taylor, gets up to thank the doctor for everything. He’s still shaking, still trying to make sense of what happened tonight. He’s just glad that a medical professional has looked at her. That her body is now being flushed with lots of nutrients and fluids to help get rid of whatever drug she was given. Ray hangs up the phone, as Travis signals him to come closer. It’s still pitch dark outside, the lights of the Las Vegas strip not looking half as magical as they did this morning. This morning when Taylor was her normal self, standing by these floor to ceiling windows. Her happy self being in awe, excited for a day at the golf field. And him holding her in his arms, appreciating each giggle escaping her lips with a gentle kiss on her cheek. The same morning, in which a certain person was probably already plotting to secretly mix something into her system. Knowing that she would be going out tonight. Knowing that he would give her space to chat with her friends, network, talk to strangers.

Space to get drugged and taken advantage of.

“I need to run downstairs and grab some sugary drinks for when she wakes up. Can you please stay here with her for a few minutes in case she wakes up?” Travis asks the security guard and Ray nods, a little confused about Travises sudden change of mind. A few minutes ago he wouldn’t dare to leave Taylor out of sight, but now he seems eager to run downstairs?

Travis thanks him, leaves everything he owns, including his phone, in this room with her. With determined steps, he leaves the hotel room before the doctor even can, approaching the elevator doors as quickly as humanly possible.

Driven by adrenaline and aggression, more than he’s ever felt before, Travis enters the night club again, just seconds later. He can immediately spot Ross and Harry, who are both approaching him with worried looks on their faces.

“Bro, are you okay? Brit said that she saw you and…”

But Travis doesn’t hear any of it. All he can see is the man from before still standing there, talking to a group of women. His brain is fully shut, and his instincts are taking over. As soon as he approaches the group, the man’s eyes look up to Travis. Within a split second, Travis’ fist lands in the man’s face. A solid punch. There’s blood running down his nose and people looking at him in shock. The women next to them are jolting to the side. The guy is holding his nose with a look on his face that shows Travis clearly that he knew exactly what this was for.

“You little piece of shit, don’t you ever try that again.”

Both Harry and Ross have witnessed the situation, just gently holding Travis back as a security guard from the night club gets closer to them.

“Man, calm down. I bought her a drink. Nothing more.”

“He fucking drugged Tay.” Travis says to his friends in a rage, who both are trying to calm him. “This asshole is out here drugging women and you guys don’t do anything?!” he says loudly to the security guards who are signaling Travis to leave the club now before things will get ugly. He feels a new form of anger rise in his chest as he is asked to leave, but Ross and Harry manage to not just hold him back, but convince him to leave the club and make his way out to get some fresh air.

Travis is used to feeling exhausted. He’s used to feeling drained, tired and knowing he’s spent all the energy in the world available to him. As an athlete, he’s learned to deal with these moments of lacking energy, learned to push through and know when and how to reload his energy storages. But in this moment, while sitting down next to Taylor on this hotel bed, finally alone with her, he can safely say that he’s never. Never in a million years felt a level of exhaustion as severe as this.

For a third time tonight, he wipes away the sweat standing on his forehead. His gaze falls onto the Las Vegas Strip in front of him. The sun is slowly rising, more and more cars are driving down the streets. The next day is starting, almost as if nothing had happened. It’s all just an endless cycle. The days come, the nights end. No one really cares for you out there. No one really cares about things that happen to you while the world moves slowly on.

He looks down to Taylor again. His world doesn’t. Her left arm is still on top of the bed sheets, connected to the liquid IV standing next to her bedside. There’s still mascara stuck on her cheek and her long, blonde, wavy hair is all over the place. There’s lipstick stains on her chin, but she looks peaceful. She finally does. Travis swallows, gets up and closes the curtains. Sleep. Sleep is what both of them need after this night. He pulls his shirt over his head, takes off his pants and just drops them on the floor. He likes to be in control of things, like to keep his things neat. But none of the things he possesses matter when it comes to her. Just the thought of losing her, of not being able to protect her, not being her safe haven tonight has made everything else feel so irrelevant to him. From the very first moment he fell for this woman, was when he promised himself and her to always keep her safe. He let her down tonight. He let her security team down too, but mostly, her.

There’s a deep and heavy pressure on his chest. He’s guilty. He’s failed her.

Travis slips under the blanket too, finally placing his head on his pillow. It’s dark in the room now, but not as dark as he’d like it to be. The daylight is still fighting its way through the curtains. He places his arm protectively over her body, checking that the IV is still properly attached to her arm. He gets closer to her, kissing her cheek again. He sighs, allows himself to close his eyes for a moment then.

“What happened?”

His eyes shut open in shock and to his surprise, he finds her looking at him. Her eyes are tiny and red, but her face is fully turned to him. He feels a wave of relief washing over him, followed by the need to just cry like a baby. He knew she would be okay, but being able to look into her eyes is giving him endless comfort right now.

“Someone put something in your drink. How are you feeling?” he whispers. He can witness her eyelids still fighting to stay open. His big hand already on her cheek.

“Horrible.” she mumbles. He quickly gets up again and walks over to her side of the bed. In nothing but his boxers, Travis sits down next to her.

“Can you sit up for a moment? You should take this aspirin before going back to sleep. You’ll thank me tomorrow morning.”

She nods, tries to find her strength to sit up, but struggles clearly. Travis helps her immediately, pulls her upright with both of his hands on her arms.

“There you go.” he mumbles, already reaching for the water glass next to her. She looks disoriented, confused. Her eyes wandering to the liquid IV in her arm.

“What..”

“We had a doctor come look at you. This will help you feel better soon, baby.”

She doesn’t react, just nods and opens her mouth for him to place the aspirin pill on her tongue. A second later he then holds the glass of water closer to her mouth and she gulps it down as quickly as she can.

“Good job.” Trav mumbles, placing the glass on her bedside table again. There’s a drop of water running down her chin and his thumb is quick enough to wipe it away for her.

“Did.. did anyone see me like this?” she mumbles then in deep worry, while clearly struggling to stay awake. He snuggles himself under the blanket with her again, helping her lay down properly. This time she’s facing him, makes it clear to him that she wants to be close. His hand lands on her cheek and in her neck, his lips finding their way onto her forehead.

“I don’t think so. I managed to get you up here quickly. Spoke to Tree and the guy who got you the IV signed an NDA. No one will have to find out about this, sweetie. Don’t worry.”

She nods slightly, her eyes closed. Travis takes a deep breath. She needs her sleep. Badly. He kisses her forehead one last time, then lets go of her. As soon as his hand leaves her neck is when she opens her eyes and her dry mouth once more.

“Stay here, please.”

He nods, moves closer and helps her bury herself completely in his arms. Her cold feet are now pressed between his warm legs, and her torso is wrapped fully into his arms. He kisses her head again and again, hoping to get her to fall asleep.

Suddenly she moves again, sitting up for a moment. Trav looks at her, ready to grab the trash can a few inches away from him in case she's getting sick.

“You good…”

She turns around and reaches for his hand. She looks at his bruised hand in shock, then back at him.

“I punched the guy who did this to you. Broke his nose. Also, I’m banned from entering this shitty club ever again. Fucking shit hole.”

She looks at him, drops her head on his chest in disbelief and closes her eyes. He giggles slightly at her reaction, more than glad that she seems to have regained enough consciousness to worry about his bruised hand. His healthy hand now lands on top of her head protectively.

“What the fuck.” she whispers and he can’t argue with her. This whole night is a whole lot of what the fuck.

“I’m just..” he looks at the ceiling, Taylor on his chest, being fully aware of the fact that she’s probably already asleep again.

“I’m just so sorry for not.. not being there when this happened. I never wanted you to feel unsafe with me. I just..”

“You’re literally the safest place I’ve ever known, idiot.” She croaks then, and he looks down and swallows. He didn’t expect her to answer him, didn’t expect her to actually hear him and certainly did not expect her to say something as fundamental as this.

“I think..” she’s tired, struggling to find words and Travis moves immediately, his finger on her lips, signaling her that she doesn’t have to say anything to him right now. She needs to rest. That’s all she needs to do. Taylor understands, her eyes closed again. Travis kisses her forehead one last time before attempting to get some sleep as well.

“I think I’m so lucky that something like this happened to me when you were there. And even when I couldn’t walk or speak or see or move my hands, I just.. knew you would take care of me. That’s how safe I feel with you.” she says with a broken voice, both eyes closed. Trav moves his mouth closer to her temple, his lips finding her skin. He kisses her on this spot for the longest time, tears streaming out of his eyes and onto the soft fabric of his pillow.

#safety #safety the fic #taylor swift #travis kelce #taylor and travis #tayvis #tayvis nation #so high school #the alchemy #tayvis fanfic #tayvis fancfiction #taylor swift fanfiction #taylor swift ttpd

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bairdthereader · 3 days

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Elle keeps a close eye on her friends, and the artist in her is always interpreting the subtext in what she sees. One of my favorite examples of this is her subtle observation of Nick. Once she hears directly from Nick and Charlie that their relationship is real, she includes Nick in her thoughtful gaze.

I know some might disagree, but I think in this scene just before the Truham spring concert starts, Elle's first glance and small smile are in response to Nick's incredibly obvious happiness and clear adoration of Charlie. The relief she must feel at seeing evidence that Nick's feelings for Charlie are genuine is in that look. Then there's a second glance for Tao with a bit of humor at his disgruntled reaction to Nick's nearness, and maybe some of rueful reflection on her own tangled romance.

This is my absolute favorite, right here ⬇️. Elle's face is out of focus because the camera is on Nick, but you can see that she's watching Nick closely from the moment he steps away from Charlie in the doorway. Everyone else is chatting amongst themselves, but Elle's focus is entirely on Nick. She seems to know exactly what he's struggling with, the decision he's trying to make about going back to kiss Charlie for the first time in front of their friend group. I think Elle and Nick have a tiny, wordless conversation when she tilts her head to the side and smiles at him. Her face says "go on then," and he does.

And we all love the Louvre scene, which is perfect in every way. Not only is it a moment of intense connection between the two of them when they both offer each other valuable wisdom, but it's a moment when they just enjoy each other's company. Elle's focus (a valuable and worthy thing for anyone to have) is entirely on Nick and his words--"I don't think I really understand any of the art"--but she sees more there and waits patiently to hear it. He immediately proves that he feels the spirit and innate value of the artworks, something that Elle can relate to on a fundamental level.

When Nick comes out during the truth or dare game, all of the expressions on the Paris squad's faces are happy and supportive. But there's something about Elle's that I think says a little more. She's happy for Nick and Charlie, of course. But there's an extra depth in the way she watches Nick do this very hard thing. There's almost a peacefulness, like a final puzzle piece has been put in its place in Nick's life and she knows the peace that will bring him.

You get the sense that Elle really, genuinely likes Nick, that her inclusion of him on her list of people to lovingly, carefully observe is just as much for his own sake as for Charlie's. Her friendship with Nick is quieter, subtler than some of the others' is, but it's powerful. I can't wait to see it evolve in season 3.

#elle's gentle gaze #she sees so much with her artist eyes #heartstopper #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper series #alice oseman #osemanverse #nick nelson #elle argent #narlie #nick x charlie #nick and charlie #charlie spring #kit connor #yasmin finney #joe locke

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ohithankyou · 21 hours

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thinking about tommy kinard hours and well, I know we’ve talked about how important it was that tommy came over to buck’s in person to clear the air and apologise about potentially upsetting him because that kind of “showing up” is something buck so desperately lacked in his past relationships. but, I also wanna talk about how important it probably was for tommy to have buck, not just hear, but also validate his feelings re: wanting to be part of a family or team in the way that the 118 are

the way tommy looks at buck when buck is explaining to him all the ways that tommy was a part of something important in rescuing bobby and athena, was part of the team, was a part of the family — tommy’s expression at certain points in this moment, it’s kind of heart breaking because you get a glimpse of a broken tommy but also one in awe. he looks so innocent. so surprised. so moved. so seen. there are just so many emotions wrapped up in his expressions in that moment and it makes me sick in the best way

because it’s just like — this beautiful, adorable man by the name of evan buckley heard tommy kinard voice an insecurity that has probably plagued him his whole life, and immediately, without any hesitation, addressed it, making tommy feel so important. and buck doesn’t just do this because “it’s the nice thing to do” in a moment like that. no. he does it because he believes it. he believes with his whole heart that tommy was a part of their family and their team that night and he wants tommy to believe it too. so, even if a part of tommy wanted to believe on the contrary, he couldn’t. even if the insecure voice in tommy’s head tried its hardest to get tommy to not believe what buck was saying, he couldn’t. he couldn’t because the conviction and sincerity with which evan buckley said those words to him was too powerful a force and tommy had to believe him and he did

and I really think this is the moment that for tommy, this crush on 'the cute guy', goes from just being a crush on 'the cute guy', to a real longing and a yearning for evan. and so when he gets the final signal that buck may actually be interested in him in *that* way, he makes the move and kisses him

and even the kiss. I know it’s been talked about a ton but the way tommy keeps his eyes closed when he breaks the kiss, just soaking it in, it’s ahhh. because, again. it wasn’t just about kissing the cute guy. it was about kissing the cute guy he thinks he could have something with, (possibly every thing with). but in the back of his mind, he feels there may still be a chance that buck doesn’t feel that way about him, about men. so he keeps his eyes closed a little longer. but when he finally opens them, and sees the way buck is looking at him, and asks buck if “it was okay”, he realizes that yes, evan does like him. and that’s when tommy can breathe. and after that, he doesn’t even waste a second to ask him out on date

i also think that explains why tommy cuts the date short when he does, the way he does, instead of just going along with it. if this was just any 'cute guy', maybe he would’ve went to the movie with him, had some fun (or not), and then went on his merry way, feeling no two ways about it. but no. evan buckley isn’t just 'some cute guy.' and so, he probably thought, “better that I end it now, because if I don’t, I will fall and it will hurt.” I think it may have looked to some like it was easy for tommy to walk away, but given what we’ve gotten to know about him, I don’t think it was easy at all. yes, he walked away because buck wasn’t ready and he didn’t want to pressure him, but he probably also walked away because he couldn’t risk getting his heart broken in the long run

so, tommy goes home and he thinks, that’s it. it’s done. but he also probably couldn’t stop thinking about evan and then, he gets a call, and it’s him. it’s evan and he’s asking to see him. tommy says yes. he doesn’t know what this will bring, but he’s playing it safe, he’s holding back slightly, not sitting down immediately, but then evan shocks him with the, “come with me to my sister's wedding. I want you to be my date at my sisters wedding..”

and tommy hears the same raw, honest conviction and sincerity in his voice that he heard the night he kissed him. the night his insecurities were heard (probably for the first time ever), and he trusts evan. he believes him. he couldn’t not believe him even if he tried. he says yes, he’ll go to the wedding, and now, he’s in this, and he wants this. he wants evan and he isn’t going to hold back in showing him that

so even though he’s on call, he comes to the bachelor party and doesn’t leave until he absolutely has to. and even though he has to go to work, he promises to evan that he’ll do his damnest to come to the wedding. and even though he fought a fire for 12+ hours, he keeps his promise, and does his damnest, and makes it to the wedding (and well, he sees that his damnest is very appreciated.)

and then in the last episode, we’re back where we started with them (in the kitchen), but more domestic and lived in. buck opens up about himself and tommy, again, meets him halfway and shares something personal about himself in return. but, this time, opening up isn’t just about meeting buck halfway. he’s opening up because he knows he can. he knows he’ll be heard because evan created that safe space for him and now, tommy’s letting himself embrace that safe space in a way he probably hasn’t before, with anyone else

he’s talking about his jealousy and his insecurities because he wants evan to know him. and what better way to let evan get to know him, than to let him in on what he’s longed and yearned for? what better way to do that than to let evan in on the parts of himself he most likely hasn’t been able to trust with anyone else? parts of him that maybe, possibly, most likely, others didn’t even care to even know? but evan. evan wants to know and evan does care, and tommy, tommy is all in. and honestly, he couldn’t not be all in even if he tried

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #911 abc #going through it rn if you couldn't tell

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undercoverpena · 2 days

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sunrise

francisco morales x santiago garcia

GIF credit to @perotovar

summary: after mixed messages, pope asks frankie if he'll watch the sunrise with him.

wordcount: 1.1k warnings: none. jo doing jo things with words. just two boys, mixed messages and a bit of hope. an: happy pride. this fic is dedicated to the lovely, wonderful @perotovar who not only is a great friend, but also has never made me feel like i'm not part of pride. it's been a long time since I've written m/m, but erin, your kind words (and gif) filled me with joy. i hope this fills you with joy too.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz—

He doesn’t need to look, to smack his hand around the bedside table, Frankie knows where his phone is.

Retrieving it, pressing it to his ear—old sleep crusting in his eyes—Frankie lets out a soft groan, the weight of lingering thoughts still pushing heavily against his mind. With a reluctant sigh, he mumbles a tender hello, his voice heavy, gruff.

“Hey,” Pope says.

It elongates, stretches out like a fragile thread suspended between them—as though another word should have followed but isn’t spoken.

“You awake?”

“Am now.”

He doesn’t miss the chuckle that’s embedded into the breath. Nor, how it brushes down and through the phone. A sensation bubbling across his skin, his body remembering how it feels to have it against him.

“You’ve not been replying—in the group chat.”

He rubs his face, the motion all a hopeless attempt to awaken his mind, wishing the act would spur on words. Something. Anything to bridge the aching void between them.

It doesn’t.

It just adds to the other things churning inside him, layering over doubts and questions—the ones that linger unanswered, even when they are alone, haunting the spaces between their moments together.

Sliding the phone back against his cheek, he sighs. “Yeah, sorry. Just… wasn’t checking things.”

“Yeah, thought so.”

He hums, and then releases a heavy breath. Needing to fill the silence before it begins. Not wanting to find out if today it’s comfortable or the opposite.

“You busy?”

“At 3 in the morning?”

Pope laughs—and Frankie hates how much he likes the sound. Despises it, almost. Loathes it, like he detests how he feels.

“Didn’t know if you wanted to watch the sunrise with me.”

“I’m a whole flight from you, Pope.”

“Don’t have to be in the same location to watch the sun come up, Fish.”

“We fuckin’ do if it comes up at different times, cabrón.”

There’s a pause, then a chuckle. One that begins with Pope and then ends with him. It fills the air, the space, the area between them that they pretend not to notice or ask about whenever they come home.

Because home isn’t out there, where they’re adorned in layers that barrier against artillery and threats; home isn’t where they help the other free from it all in the comfort of a base room or a tent in the middle of nowhere. Home is real. It’s chosen paint on the walls and picked out bedding; it’s photographs filled with only the best and souvenirs that remind of good times.

And, right now, the only evidence of Pope here is the memories—

That first kiss. How fuelled it had been, how he’d done it purely to stop the tide of ifs and buts that Pope had been flinging, angrily darting in the hope to hit the bullseye and wound him further than his foolishness had.

And it’s not that Frankie wishes to hang up, it isn’t that he hopes to shove things further into his soul. He’s had his crisis—had it when he’d had Pope pressed against his spine, breath fanning out over his neck, making the hair curled from their earlier activities twitch and tickle.

But, he’s at least come to terms with the fact this isn’t a home thing. A thing which doesn’t exist when he steps on the plane to go back to a life where people call him Francisco. He’s made his peace with it, accepted it—as much as a person can.

He’s done the work to rationalise and reason. So, whatever this phone call is, it feels counterproductive. It feels like sinking, falling through those steps and nets he’s built until he’s drenched in the will-they-won’t-they he’s clambered far away from. The hopes seep into his skin, worming into his brain, threatening to paint shadows on the back of his eyelids at what the two of them could be—

“What are we doing, Pope?”

There’s an exhale. It’s likely a sigh, but it’s hard to assess without the facial expression. The way he wears his feelings in his body language.

“I‘m not sure.”

Frankie expects that, somehow. Yet it still stings, hurts—ripples out like a lashing he’s braced for. Rolling onto his side, he grinds his jaw. Staring at the gap in the curtains, the one that’ll allow light to bleed through in a few more hours, nostrils flaring as he shakes his head.

“I can’t watch the sunrise with you.”

“‘Cause of the time difference?”

Rolling his eyes, he blows out a harsh breath. “No. Because if we do, I’ll confess something that’ll make it hard for you to do that compartmentalising shit that you do about the fact you and I fuck.”

The silence that follows is painful, excruciating. It’s devoid and barren, dull and full of nothing. There’s no background noise to drown it out, the night too quiet, the hour too dormant—to the point it almost makes Frankie feel guilty for disturbing it.

“What if I told you I’m at the motel on 22nd—”

Frankie sits up. Bolt upright. The suddenness of it forces the sheet to fall from his neck to pool at his waist, the air cool flurrying over warm skin, heat blooming in his cheeks.

“—the one you talked about—”

His heart hammers. Pounds.

“—the one you go to when home is a bit too… home.”

“Pope…”

“Fish.”

Swinging his legs from under the sheets, elbow resting on the place above his knee, hand wiping down his face, awake, blood pounding in his ears.

“Por favor no bromees.”

Sighing, blowing it right into his ear. It’s far more soothing, rooting, than it has been before.

“Wanna watch the sunrise with me, Fish?”

Swallowing, fear threatens to poison the joy that is trying to fill his chest. His hand clamps around his knee for leverage, for strength. Squeezing, likely making his skin paler—it returning to colour when he releases as he tries to get his brain to calculate the percentage of how much of a good idea this is.

But then he hears his name. It whispered, with more of an infliction, a question to it.

And so he takes a breath. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’ll… get dressed now.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

A silence unfurls, one nicer, more bearable than any of the others before—

“Well hurry then, Fish.”

And then, as Frankie suspected, Pope ends the call.

tagging: @morallyinept (for your collection)

#francisco morales x santiago garcia #santiago garcia x francisco morales #pope x catfish #catfish x pope #frankie morales x santiago garcia #santiago garcia x frankie morales #frankie x santiago #santiago x frankie #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal characters #oscar isaac characters

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aguineapigcouldntdothis · 1 day

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I can completely break down the notion that jews do not experience ethnic discrimination within western countries, specifically the USA.

for context I am genetically half jewish and half italian, and since I was born i have been more connected to judaism in a cultural and a religious sense. though its not a huge part of my life like judaism is it's definitely still important.

a lot of people like to argue that jews were once not seen as white and now we are, just like Italians, Greeks, Irish, etc were (at least in the USA) and I can confirm that's total bullshit. I have, not once in my life, been treated badly for being Italian. I have never had someone shame me for my appearance, make fun of my cultural food, threaten me, insult me, insult my father, say they wish I died, harassed me, or any other violent or demeaning acts because im Italian. not once in my entire life has that happened. even living in the rural USA where traditional white supremacy is alive and well that did not happen.

yet I have absolutely been harassed, verbally abused, demeaned, belittled, etc. for being jewish. Ive experienced antisemitism since I was 5 and possibly younger. ive heard holocaust jokes, nose/eye jokes, had swastikas drawn on my things, received death threats, gotten rape threats, been called a murderer, been told I should burn, was told I was poisoning the seas, had people deny my very real trauma, was told that I should've stayed dead (for context I overdosed and had to be resuscitated once), and many more things all because im jewish. these are just instances in which it was specifically mentioned or heavily heavily implied that its because im jewish.

Many of these things happened when theae people didn't even know I'm a practicing jew and some even when I stopped practicing for a couple years. a lot of the time the only reason they had to believe I was jewish was my appearance and yeah sure they were right but what it shows is that appearance alone is enough for people to be antisemitic. you know, if jews weren't ethnically discriminated then why do people target us for having things like large noses and curly hair? or for the foods that we eat? or for anything that isnt directly related to religious practices?

anyway I dont believe for a second that anyone who thinks jews dont experience ethnic discrimination in the USA has ever had a genuine conversation with a jew about antisemitism. 5 year old me did not deserve to feel like he was ugly all for some assholes to say that jews are making all this up.

☆this is part 2 in which I will add important context bc if anyone is gonna overanalyze my argument its me. u can read it if you want its not necessary to understand the post.

like I said I have spent most of my life in rural areas where there are many less jews than in big cities and obvious white supremacy is common. im 100% sure this affected a lot of the antisemitism i received.

I am sephardic, not ashkenazi. most goyim do not have a clue what this means. those who do generally think it means "jewish but spicier and more exotic (aka less american)" which could have contributed to some of the discrimination i faced for not being seen as American enough.

this is my experience not anyone else's! I am not discrediting what other people have gone though regarding any experiences with discrimination

#jewish #jumblr #antisemitism

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zedecksiew · 2 days

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TO PUT AWAY A SWORD

David Blandy + Daniel Locke's post-apocalyptic hopepunk TTRPG ECO MOFOS is back from the printers. Meaning it will soon be in our hands.

Am fairly hyped for it, because I wrote an adventure!

To Put Away A Sword is about the woes of building a home on poisoned earth. The terrible powers that hurtled us to the end of the world continue to bear bitter fruit in your garden.

You are villagers living under the shadow of a fallen giant mecha. Its reactors and warheads leak into your groundwater, poison your goats. What will you do about it? What can you do?

Mechanically it is a pointcrawl around your local valley. Not super complex, design-wise; but I was pleased with my gimmick solution for mapping both the adventure's dungeons:

Grab a mecha figure, pose it, place it on the game table; each part of the figure corresponds to a location in the dungeon key. Solves for stuff like relative orientation.

Easy!

To Put Away A Sword is me making a mecha adventure.

Disclaimer: I am not a mecha nerd. I am unfamiliar with most of the genre. Anything I know about Gundam I've absorbed by osmosis.

I was mainly into giant robots in childhood. Receiving a Macross figure for my birthday. Pouring over the manual for The Crescent Hawks' Revenge, which my brother left behind:

While I was not much a fan of mecha, I was very much a fan of Evangelion. I spent my middle teens obsessed with it. The biomechanical, pseudo-mystical stuff; the teen angst. I wanted to be Shinji. I thought trauma was so cool.

So cringe. Anyway:

One of the inspirations for To Put Away A Sword is the survivors-rebuilding-a-town-and-planting-rice sequence in Thrice Upon A Time; probably my favourite part of the whole franchise, now.

The joy and difficulties of trying to build your paradise in the weird ruins of the old world:

Yeah, the adventure has a lot of Evangelion in it. There's a Nerv HQ analogue to explore. There's a content warning for child soldiers.

The other inspiration for To Put Away A Sword is this piece of box art, an accessory set for Macross's iconic Stonewell Bellcom VF-1 Variable Fighter:

I don't know what this kind of arrange-your-missiles-in-front-of-your-fighter-jet photo is technically called. Hardware porn parade?

You see it often enough. Here's a real-life photo of the Lockheed Martin F35 Joint Strike Fighter:

Fairly or not, in my head I associate mecha with seeing copies of Jane's Defence in airport magazine racks. The genre feels like such a natural way to riff on the hyper-charged corpo-military-industrial complex.

After the brush war ends, and the natural resources extracted, and the ethnic cleansing concluded, and the profits announced, who gets to clean up after a Raytheon missile?

In To Put Away A Sword---you do.

Ultimately, as always, I am writing and designing from my lived experiences.

See that? The gas flare from the Hengyuan Refining Company? It is about 200 metres from my living room.

That gas flare surfaces constantly in the stuff I make. As I write this post I am breathing its acrid chemical smell. My nose itches. I was asthmatic as a child; I seriously worry about cancer, nowadays.

At night it lights up the sky like Barad-dur.

The plant obviously and continuously flaunts regulations. We've tried lodging complaints: with its corporate management; with the Department of Environment. Nothing has worked so far.

"A home on poisoned earth" is a visceral fact of my life.

To Put Away A Sword is wish-fulfilment, I guess? In the world of the adventure, at least, the forces that are poisoning your home are post-peak oil.

It is nice to imagine a reality where a kind of survival and flourishing is still possible. My partner Sharon and I talk a lot about imagining hope.

Last month she bought this small mecha-looking thing. A wireless camera! She built a little hut for it on our garden wall. It is trained, 24-7, at the gas flare.

Environmental activists we've met say video evidence of emissions is important. We'll see. We imagine it helping.

Anyway. David just sent me this photo of my adventure, in print:

Looking good. I hope folks play it and enjoy it.

Preorder ECO MOFOS and its adventure bundle >>>HERE<<<

#adventures #ttrpgs #eco mofos #writing #fantasies #mecha #real life #gas flares

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lahulotteshitpost · 3 days

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***Sorry this started out as a rant***

The idea that you only reciprocate someone's love if you can be open about your feelings or date them is honestly insulting.

I find it especially mature from the Doctor to admit she can't date Yaz, knowing it will break her heart.

In LOTSD, you can clearly see the pain on their faces (both of them), but it's the kindest thing the Doctor could have done. Their relationship would have been unhealthy. We know this because we've seen the Doctor losing herself and being a terrible friend to Yaz.

And the Doctor knows that, she knows her mental state won't allow her to actually be in a relationship. She knows the relationship would be toxic, she knows she's been a terrible friend, she even admitted it in Flux but admitting it didn't fix her.

I've lived longer, seen more, loved more, and lost more.

- It Takes You Away

Yaz, I'm sorry. I didn't let you in to what I was doing... what I was looking for. I shouldn't have shut you out.

- The Vanquishers

But the point is, if it was going to be anyone, it'd be you. But I can't. Because at some point time always runs out.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

Not because I don't want to, because I might. But if I do fix myself to somebody I know, sooner or later, it'll hurt.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

The Doctor is very clear:

- she's not been a good friend,

- she loves Yaz,

- she wishes she could date her.

Being in love, even when it's reciprocal, doesn't always end in a relationship. Sometimes, even "trying" is impossible.

They can't be together, because the Doctor can't bring herself to do that. She's been desperately trying to avoid feelings and attachments since she fell into that Sheffield train. Of course, it doesn't work, and of course it's not a healthy coping mechanism, but this is something people go through.

Yaz understands. And I will argue that Yaz got to confess her love to the Doctor in LOTSD, they both expressed their feelings indirectly.

My nani says, courage is knowing something will hurt and doing it anyway. Mind you, she also said it's the definition of stupidity.

- Legend of the Sea Devils

This is Yaz telling the Doctor "I love you, I wish you could get over your fears, but I understand.

(And there is a lot to say about consent, as, clearly, understanding despite the pain is also the healthier reaction. You cannot force someone into a relationship, Yaz has often been mistreated by the Doctor but in this very moment, she is not a victim.)

There's a reason why she adds that bit about "stupidity" and it's not just to make the Doctor laugh.

Their romance is a slow burn with no happy ending. It's incredibly bittersweet, but it's also very real.

Mentally ill people who avoid relationships are often ashamed of it, we don't openly talk about it because it's definitely not "normal". You can be traumatised, depressed, anxious, but you're still in a happy romantic and sexual relationship, obviously.

Except when you can't.

I started shipping Thasmin during Series 12, initially believing it to be unrequited. I never expected it to be more than subtext, in a way it subverted a lot of my expectations.

I'm no different from most shippers, I was hoping for a kiss (every Doctor had one!) although I expected it to be disappointingly non romantic (à la Nine/Rose).

A kiss, the ultimate romantic trope!

Doctor Who didn't give me what I was hoping for.

It gave me something that I desperately needed.

Home.

Representation.

When you are one of those fucked up queer people, afraid of people knowing deep down you can't date, avoiding feelings and relationships because this is how your traumas shaped you, do you really get to see yourself?

Thasmin isn't every queer person, it isn't even every sapphic you will ever meet, but no story is. And their queerness isn't the cause of their doomed love, which I find extremely respectful and far from usual tropes.

I can see myself in them, at different stages of my life. I know some aro/ace spec people see their relationship as very queerplatonic and also felt represented.

Maybe you don't, and that's fine. You don't have to see yourself in them, you don't have to like this story.

Just understand other queer people will.

#Thasmin #doctor who #yaz #thirteen #the Doctor #yasmin khan #yaz khan #thirteenth doctor #queer #jodie Whittaker #mandip gill #romance #aroace #sapphic #lgbtq #queerplatonic

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rainbow-crane · 2 days

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In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 2: Mondo Owada

So yeah, I decided to do Mondo's next. After all the material I ended up inadvertently collecting for him in my Taka analysis, it just made more sense to go ahead and get him out of the way, even if I'd rather go for my personal favorite characters first.

As noted previously, this analysis will only be using canon material. It'll primarily focus on the game and its english translation since that's what I'm most familiar with, but may also pull from the original Japanese, as well as the animation, stageplay, etc. If you aren't interested, just keep scrolling. Mondo fans, prepare some popcorn, and perhaps a tissue box since if you're anything like the Taka fans you may end up crying. You're welcome.

Part 1- Character Design

Mondo Owada is a delinquent character whose design pays homage to manga series Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable, and is modeled after its protagonist, Josuke Hikashigata. Mondo sports a massive pompadour and a modified uniform that mimics Josuke's, and is the leader of a biker gang called the Crazy Diamonds, a direct reference to Josuke's Stand, Crazy Diamond.

Due to leading this biker gang, he was given the title of SHSL Gang Leader, or Ultimate Biker Gang Leader.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Most of Mondo's character introduction isn't actually from himself, but from the researching Makoto did prior to entering the school in-game. We know immediately that he's leader of the largest biker gang in Japan, and get a look into his public image via Makoto. Despite the fact that Mondo is being fairly chill with his greeting, Makoto remains terrified of him based off of reputation alone- "I'd better be careful around him. One wrong word and I could wake up at the bottom of the sea..."

However, we can quickly see that this reputation is built mainly on bravado, as when Monokuma first calls for the entrance ceremony, we can see Mondo begin to sweat, despite his claiming otherwise- "Well hell, it ain't like I'm scared or nothin'. Let's just get this over with!"

He continues to sweat throughout Monokuma's explanation of the communal life, attempting to cover it up by yelling at the bear to let them out. We get a brief look at his more protective nature, as he purposefully puts himself between Hiro and Monokuma in order to confront him. We also quickly learn just how easily provoked he is.

Despite this provocation, he's not completely swept up in his rage, as he's able to listen to Kyoko's warning of the bomb and follows her advice- to throw it away- without hesitation. So our first real impression of him is that he's a short-tempered and intimidating- but well-intentioned- protector of sorts. He's not completely brainless; he's considerate of his classmates and their safety even when putting himself at risk.

Part 3- Early Game Development

Mondo is an interesting case, as he's a character that almost immediately looks directly into the camera and tells the player directly what their main motivation is. The only other character in this series that's as transparent about their goals so early in is Sayaka, and even then the game makes you ask for that information.

He tells us, in no uncertain terms, that keeping promises is the #1 most important thing to him. He also tells us indirectly how highly he values his family and personal connections, holding his brother's word as law. These combined with his talent being that of a gang leader all suggest a pack leader mentality, which is immediately confirmed by his anger at Byakuya for trying to separate from the group- "Like hell I'm gonna let you run off and do whatever you want!"

Not only is this loss of control upsetting to him, but he's then immediately provoked and called insignificant by Byakuya, leading him to lash out at the closest person in an attempt to regain that hold of power- which just so happens to be Makoto. Not only is this response irrational and violent, but it knocks out Makoto for 10-11 hours. Mondo is a leader, yes, but he's a gang leader, and his bite does match his bark.

Mondo's aggressive and fairly single-minded nature is made apparent when he continuously tries to break down the hatch in the main hall. Not only does he attempt to bust it open with Sakura on the first day, but he then returns to the hatch with Leon the following day, despite the fact he already admitted there was probably no way to open it from inside, and continues to check into the following chapter. He sees one possible way out, and zeroes in on it, just in case.

The game continues to double down on the irrational, defensive aspects of his character when Monokuma appears again to present the first motive. He again confronts Monokuma directly- pretending as if he knows who's piloting the bear for a fact("We know who you are!")- and attempting to intimidate him into letting them go. Once again, this demonstrates both his desire to protect himself and his classmates, and his unwavering confidence in the intelligence of said classmates, as Chihiro was the one to suggest the mastermind being Genocide Jack based only off her gut feeling. He then proceeds to immediately turn around and make Makoto be the one to go find the motive instead of going himself, getting extremely angry when Makoto doesn't instantly do as he's told- "Hey... Hey hey hey hey hey... HEEEEEY!!! You see how passionately I'm begging you!? What's the big deal? Just check it out real quick!"

He then calms down the second Makoto agrees.

It creates a sort of duality with his character between his more protective nature and his need to exert control, something the game makes a point to call out.

Part 4- Relationships

Mondo develops a fair number of relationships across his time in the game, to varying levels of importance- some antagonistic, some exceedingly complex. We'll go from least to most important to the overarching story.

4.1- Celeste

Celeste and Mondo are written in directly opposing ways, as while they're both fairly short-tempered, Celeste is much better at hiding it. It's by this logic that throughout the early game, oftentimes when Mondo starts to get riled up by the rules of the school and/or their circumstances, it's Celeste who ends up deescalating before he can explode, maintaining a facade of calm where he can't.

4.2- Sakuraoi

While not very touched upon, Mondo does end up developing a mutual respect for Sakura and Hina. When the class splits up to investigate the school on the first day, he joins the two of them in trying to find a way to get back to the outside, and he and Sakura work together to try and bust open the hatch in the main hall.

Hina's the one that stops Mondo from attacking Byakuya in the library, and when Chihiro begins to cry over Mondo saying that 'women are naturally weak anyway', it's Hina who calls him out for 'screaming like a lunatic.'

His relationship with Taka is also directly contrasted to Sakura's with Hina by Sakura herself- "Friendship between men seems very simplistic. Nothing like what I'm used to with girls." "Yeah, for real..." It's an interesting comparison, considering both Sakura and Mondo end up dying and leaving the responsibility of failure on Hina and Taka.

4.3- Byakuya

Byakuya antagonizes Mondo more than once, first as they're splitting up to search the school, and again after the library opens. Both times he seems to take enjoyment from it, calling him unimportant more than once and refusing to even entertain the idea that he might die.

"So miniscule, so insignificant, they couldn't possibly have any kind of influence on the boundless ocean."

"You know, I still just can't believe it..." "Believe what?" "That an uneducated, brain-dead, useless piece of garbage like you has survived this long."

"You all need to try harder. If an opponent isn't going to give it their best, where's the fun for me?"

It's enough of a threat for Mondo to genuinely believe that he's dangerous and want to keep him bound so he can't attack (foreshadowing when Byakuya himself would go one to tie Chihiro up? Probably not but it's a neat connection)

He also goes on to fuck with Chihiro, both by mocking her fear and by purposefully tampering with (what he believed to be) the crime scene of her death. On both counts, this directly affects Mondo, calling him out for his bullying("Hey, shithead! You get off on bullying people that can't fight back?") and letting Byakuya pin the crime of killing Chihiro on himself in the trial.

However, despite all this, Mondo never gets the chance to give Byakuya his comeuppance for his words and actions.

4.4- Ishimondo (yeah these bitches gay)

Similarly to Byakuya, Taka starts in a more antagonistic position, directly opposing Mondo as the unofficial, self-designated 'leader' of the class and remaining insensitive to the feelings of his classmates.

Unlike Byakuya, there's no actual intent to harm here, and their banter remains more focused on their differing ideas on how to help their classmates than anything else. Still, as time continues to pass, Mondo's impatience combined with the recent losses from ch 1 starts to push him over the edge, getting angrier with the class's lack of urgency.

This impatience only leads him to butt heads with Taka more, who's trying to keep the class together and safe first and foremost. On top of that, Mondo's delinquency is directly opposed to Taka's disciplinary background, making it all too easy to see each other as foes. Despite the fact they consider themselves the better type of man to the other, they have similar views on how men are to face each other, leading to the sauna scene.

Both characters' strong-willed determination and stubbornness inadvertently puts them on the same path, attempting to use their physical abilities to prove himself a more worthy leader than the other. It's a simplistic way of deciding, but it's one they both wholeheartedly believe in, and this gives them the opportunity to connect with each other in a way they're unable to with anyone else in the class. Thus, the following morning, when asked about the contest, the two have formed an inseparable brotherhood and refuse to even acknowledge the contest, as having a winner would put them on different levels. Interestingly, Mondo shares the belief with Taka that men bond by being naked around each other("Guys gotta expose themselves to each other, ya know?"), suggesting that he removed his clothes in order for this 'brotherhood' to form.

4.5- Daiya

The first thing we learn about Mondo's older brother in-game is that he was the one who taught Mondo to always keep his promises, no matter the cost. The second thing we learn is that he fucking died. And until nearly the end of Mondo's run in the game, that's all we as an audience need to know. He had an older brother that taught him his core values and passed away, leaving Mondo to carry out his wishes. It's not until after the chapter 2 trial is said and done that we learn anything more about him through Mondo's secret: "That embarrassing memory, that secret he didn't want anyone to know... You know what he did? He killed his own brother!"

It's through Monokuma that we learn the truth of Mondo's history with his brother: Daiya was his only family growing up, and thus, became his role model, the man Mondo himself wanted to become. He respected Daiya and Daiya alone. He followed him everywhere, and together, they formed the Crazy Diamonds, which went from a local biker gang to one of the greatest in Japan. It was through his brother that he developed his biking talent, and acted as his right hand. But some of the gang didn't believe in Mondo or trust him the way Daiya did. As Daiya grew older and prepared to retire, rumors of nepotism circulated throughout the gang, saying that Mondo was nothing compared to Daiya, that he wasn't worthy to take over the gang.

"Daiya created the gang with his bare hands! Mondo's just along for the ride." "Can someone like that be our leader?" "All that'll do is make the gang look bad."

Any accomplishments Mondo had made within the gang didn't count to the gang, or to Mondo himself, because they were put next to the leader's achievements. He compared himself to Daiya as well, feeding into the rumors and developing a deep-rooted jealousy. He felt like he had to be the stronger man, had to prove himself to the gang, had to best his brother or he wouldn't be accepted. So he challenged him. He challenged Daiya, and lost all restraint on the road, charging forward with the desperation of a dead man. And it cost him his brother's life.

His brother made him promise not to let the gang go as he passed; Mondo became shackled by his honor to stay. He fully believes it was his fault Daiya died, and now not only is he indebted to stay with the gang, but can never admit blame for fear of tarnishing not only his own reputation, but tearing his brother's gang apart. His community demands unwavering macho leadership, and he can't afford to break character for even a second.

4.6- Chihiro (will be using mostly he/him due to discussing canon)

Mondo and Chihiro exist on 2 sides of the same coin- toxic masculinity. Both characters (canonically speaking here) are men, but are perceived totally differently, both by those around them and by themselves. And because of this design, when put into the high-stress scenario that they were, they were doomed to drive each other to ruin.

Even before chapter 2 starts, there are multiple instances of Mondo listening to Chihiro and respecting his words without doubt(his theory of Genocide Jack and asking his opinion on '11037'). We've also seen Mondo's confrontational and protective nature in action. So it's no surprise at all when he stands up to Byakuya on Chihiro's behalf when he clams up. And while this is done with good intentions, it only serves to make Chihiro feel weaker. Mondo is physically stronger- anyone can see that- and he's not afraid to mouth off to someone showing excitement at the killing game they were all forced into. So when asked if he's okay the following morning, he can't help but explain himself- he feels weak, and doesn't like having someone else stand up for him. For Mondo, this goes directly against his idea of strength, and can't comprehend why "she'd" possibly care.

With all of Mondo's toughness, he carries not just the expectations of a man, but the misogynist beliefs that often come with it. But regardless of that, he's immediately able to tell he fucked up("Hey, c'mon, don't cry... I-It's my fault, okay? I won't yell anymore...") as far as the narrative will allow him due to writer's bias*. He feels bad about this, genuinely, enough to offer Chihiro his promise as a man. It's enough of a gesture for Chihiro to trust him completely, believing in the man's promise he's emphasized as being the most important thing to him since the very beginning.

(*Writer's bias in this case means the author is also sexist to a degree. Mondo is very clearly meant to be a tough guy with good intentions but because the creator appears to agree with the sentiment that women are weaker on average, we as an audience are meant to take issue with the fact that he's yelling and not the sexist statement. Said bias is made pretty clear by the fact their 'weak boy' character is dressed like a woman to emphasize his weakness and be a 'gotcha', as well as the fact they later have Kyoko force Makoto to tear paper out of Hifumi's rigor mortis hand because Makoto's a boy and she's a girl, even though earlier in that same game she, still a girl, was allowed to examine Chihiro's corpse in enough detail to find her dick. Writer's biases can and does affect the final product, so it's always important to consider that when looking at a character's development to determine whether they're being shitty because they're supposed to be or if it's some fault with the creator themself inputting their biases into something that otherwise wouldn't develop in this way. This has been Critical Consumption of Media 101.)

When Chihiro's found dead, Mondo keeps his head hung, lamenting about the fact that Chihiro wanted to be stronger, and when Makoto points out Chihiro was a woman anyway, Mondo just dismisses it, contradicting his earlier statement.

He respects Chihiro's memory and refuses to speak poorly of him. And while at first glance this is all it appears to be, as the trial unfolds and we learn the truth about what happened to Chihiro, a dual meaning behind this reveals itself- another showcasing of his devotion to the promises he keeps and the desire to protect his friend, even in death.

Chihiro is physically weak; a strong wind could probably knock him over, and he's much more in-tune with his emotions than your average guy. He mourns the losses of Sayaka, "Junko", and Leon all deeply, and has a deep shame for not being able to defend himself against Byakuya. But despite all this, when tested by Monokuma's secrets motive, he doesn't crumble away. He thrives, taking that threat and turning it into motivation to push his limits. He has the self-awareness to know when to ask for help, and isn't swayed by the threat of death. He's physically weak, but is incredibly strong mentally and is able to conquer his fears and face the lie he created for himself. Unfortunately for him, living with this toxic idea of what masculinity is supposed to look like makes him believe the way to do this can only be found in becoming physically stronger, and dies without ever seeing the strength he already had.

Mondo, on the inverse, is extremely physically capable, even without trying. He's 187 cm of muscle, and is confrontational to a fault, only giving him more opportunities to show off that physical strength. But on the inside, he can't face the sins of his past, can't admit his faults, and can't comprehend how to make peace with himself. All this is exacerbated by the weight he carries of leading the gang his brother formed, unable to release that weight from his conscience.

"N-No matter what... I couldn't let the other gang members find out. If that happened, everything would've been ruined... Everything me and my brother worked to create... woulda been destroyed... His death... all the guilt I'd been carrying around... it all woulda been for nothing."

And when Monokuma tests his resolve, he completely crumbles. Unable to admit the truth to himself, he's faced with Chihiro, someone who has the mental capability he could only dream of. That primal fear of breaking the promise he made for his brother on his deathbed, combined with Chihiro's unwavering confidence as he happily chimes how unbothered Mondo must be, blocks out all rationale. He spirals, forgetting where he is and who he's talking to, trying to make the panic go away as he throws the dumbbell in his hand.

Chihiro and Mondo each have everything the other wants, and drive each other to death trying to get it.

Part 5- Chihiro's Trial

For most of the trial, Mondo doesn't appear suspicious at all. So much time is spent on Byakuya's suspicious behavior and his framing of Genocide Jack that you barely notice him. He fully appears to be trying to find Chihiro's killer and find justice for her, following Makoto's line of reasoning to find Byakuya as the killer- with the body's suspension and the subtle differences between Jack's methods of killing and the murder of Chihiro herself. He's all too eager to declare Byakuya as the killer- and though we can't know for sure, he may have genuinely believed it. After all, walking into the girls' locker room to find her body suspended and the message of 'Bloodlust' written on the walls certainly wasn't his doing. Unfortunately for him, that's all Byakuya did, and the conversation continues.

In the end, Mondo brings about his own execution. Even after slipping up with his words, the conversation is able to continue on, sfifting focus over to Chihiro's missing E-Handbook and what exactly happened to it. And when Mondo becomes cornered with Makoto's mention of the sauna, it's not Mondo who goes on the defensive; it's Taka. Mondo gives up; he lets his tough-guy persona go. He finally faces the truth; he's undoubtedly the one that ended Chihiro's life, no matter how he may have wanted to delude himself otherwise. He sees his bro defending him, and he accepts that he has to die. It's not beyond reason to say that Taka's insistence of his innocence was what pushed him to truly admit his guilt, both to the class and to himself. Up until this point, he'd still been trying to play it off and get away with it. But was it worth it to live and kill his bro, and everyone else, just to protect his pride? No. He admits to being the killer, straight up.

"Yeah. Yeah... I did it... I killed him."

"Go ahead, Monokuma. Get it over with... Ask for the goddamned verdict..."

Part 6- The Cage of Death

The first person that comments with some variation of OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO EVIL HOW COULD YOU PUT THE EXECUTION IN THIS gets a cookie. Anyways, the executions in these games are always thematic to the characters and are meant to send them into the worst possible despair in their final moments, so let's break this down.

The execution begins with Mondo forcefully strapped to his motorcycle by Monokuma, who's sporting the same pompadour as him. This may be representative of Mondo feeling confined to the biker gang by his guilt; he was never able to break free of the lie he created about that night. The pompadour is likely just Monokuma making fun of him for his hair again, as the thing that nearly killed him in the prologue.

The kanji written on the motorcycle reads 'Little Black Sambo,' a reference to a children's story of the same title. The entire execution is an inverse of this story as well. In the story, a boy named Sambo is surrounded by four hungry tigers, and gives up his clothes to avoid being eaten. The tigers are all conceited and argue over who's the best-dressed, chasing each other in circles until they churn themselves into butter. Sambo is then able to recollect his clothes and the butter, and his mother uses the butter to make pancakes. This story is well-known and beloved in Japan, but isn't in basically the entire rest of the world on account of the racist caricatures of the POC present in it.

Mondo's execution is a inversed version of the story(and also, because Mondo isn't blasian there's thankfully no directly racist art in it, just tigers). Rather than being the one to trick the tigers, he's the one who's full of pride, and so he's sent into a motorcycle cage and left to spin around and around, while the tigers dance on either side of him. He ends up being the one who's turned into butter, and Monokuma gets to enjoy a delicious plate of Mondocakes. It's meant to represent the downfall of Mondo's macho personality and how he sent himself into a spiral, but loses a lot of its meaning if you aren't familiar with the story.

Part 7- Jealousy

So, we've torn this character apart. We know what makes him tick, but why does that all matter? What was the point of his story? Simple- it's a cautionary tale. It's a warning against everything he stands for. Mondo, through all his faults, is NOT someone you're actually supposed to idealize or hold up as the epitome of manhood in the way that Chihiro does. Rather, he's a deconstruction of everything society views as 'manly', and a demonstration of why that line of thinking is inherently flawed. He's big and tough, he yells and cusses at the people around him, he doesn't have a handle on his own strength. He knocks a dude out for like, 10 hours straight because he was mad at someone else!!! That's not a healthy way to get your frustration out!!!

Simply put, your image and pride are not worth your mental health, and comparing yourself to the people around you not only tortures yourself, but can hurt those who you love. Mondo couldn't stop comparing his own faults to the strengths of others, and ended up pushing himself too hard trying to prove himself. Not only did he lose his brother over it, but he felt like he had to keep all his pain and regret locked up for the sake of an image they'd painted together. It pushed him up to the edge, and he never learned to cope with it in a way that was healthy. It only led to him lashing out more and more, and repeating history when he killed Chihiro. Your trauma can't be fixed by ignoring it or shoving it down; seek out help when you need it. It's okay to confide in your friends; they aren't your enemy, and they aren't making fun of you. That line of thinking will only push you over the edge.

Afterword

So yeah, this was longer than anticipated. Even after doing Taka's and creating a point of reference for myself, I still ended up surprised. I mean, Taka survived longer, so you'd think his would be longer, right? But no, Mondo is not only a very well-established character, but he has more important connections and a much more impactful storyline. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say Mondo may be one of the easiest characters to understand from THH, considering how in-your-face they make him. And I respect that, even if his whole facade can be kind of annoying for me. I totally see why this guy is so popular among fans. Happy birthday Mondo!

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this one, and be sure to stick around! Sayaka's analysis is coming up next, and holy shit am I excited for this one.

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