#i have made my personal peace with it but i find it weird that either they haven't or they find it weird that i have

[iraprince]

Hiii, i love your stuff and kinda from a distance really look up at you for, in my perception, being able to express yourself without giving a fuck. Thats sick dude, Im so so afraid, of absolutely everything, its nice to think like i might grow into someone less apologetic of my existence. Nice to see people just being yknow

hey, thank you, this is really really nice. the secret that is probably not a secret is that i am also deeply afraid a lot of the time lmao -- but less than i used to be, and in ways that feel less stifling and self-suffocating, if that makes sense.

like, it used to be "i'm scared that if i express myself the way i want to, everyone will find me obnoxious, so let's just sand those edges down to be safe" -- now my fears are more like "now that i'm expressing myself in a way that feels natural and real, i'm afraid that it's all stupid/vapid/not worthwhile or meaningful" (<- specifically abt my art) or "i'm happy that i talk and act the way i want to now, but what if it makes me impossible to befriend," etc etc etc. which still feels bad and puts me in a funk a lot of the time but at least it's a fear that comes After/in reaction to doing stuff, rather than a fear that STOPS me from doing stuff, you know? like, it's evolved into a kind of fear that's less in my way.

anyway. i believe you'll experience something like this, because wanting to grow is the first step of growing. the fact that u hope or wish for something different means you're already on your way. to fewer fucks!! or at least distributing the fucks u give in a way that serves u better

[frankbelloriley]

My mom's been in town for a few days, and we got into an argument because I insisted she (and my dad) put me into Jenny Craig as a fat teenager (which is why I don't like diet programs and they do not work for me) and she's insistent that she never did. And I'm just like...I don't have body dysmorphia for no reason, chief.

[astralis-ortus]

gummy bears

✱ college student!hj x gn!reader

— art school is hard—at least having a muse makes it a little easier.

w.count → 1.8k genre → fluff...? warning → mild cussing, as per usual♡ a.n → hi!! i'm back with a new face addition to the page! hahah honestly i thought it would be either minho or seungmin first but ngl hyunnie has been tugging on my hearstrings lately he's such a silly little mandu i love him sm :( hope you guys find the story as enjoyable as chris' side of the blog, and also if anyone is interested for a commission there are slots available still♡ ⋆ see masterlist

has it always been this… weird?

your attention should’ve been sealed at the projected slides once the professor started the countdown on his infamous ‘how-long-can-i-yap-before-my-students-fall-asleep’ course, but holy smokes—even breathing seemed like a major task when you could barely peel your thoughts off the boy sitting a few rows in front of you.

hyunjin has always been the main attention-grabber wherever he went—and that includes yours.

it’s not like you denying it either. he is gorgeous, and even the heavens know you couldn’t help but glance in his direction whenever he’s in the room. hell, even a few of your initial sketches for last semester’s projects were inspired by hyunjin. it’s as if he had slowly solidified his spot as your muse—but what is this odd feeling gently fluttering between the rows of your ribcage?

a buzz from the pocket of your pants startled you out of your trance, and while you thanked the gods for sending you down here with a habit of putting your phone on constant silent, you peeked at the notification patiently perched on the screen of your phone—one nearly causing you a minor heart attack on the spot.

hyunjin: spot next to me is empty, you know

right—you forgot your position from a mere classmate-slash-secret-admirer has been upgraded to an actual acquaintance-slash-almost-friends of hyunjin’s, all thanks to that one final project from art history 101 class last semester.

you: being at the back is peaceful, thanks hyunjin: says the one who rushed for a front spot for literally any other class lol hyunjin: cmon, saved the spot for you

lord—now you’re genuinely glad you decided to wear that crusty baseball cap of yours today, or literally everyone would’ve noticed the way your cheeks had burned up into a bright shade of crimson.

you: geez hyunjin: cmoooon hyunjin: or i’ll literally ask mr. kang to move you here

the way your head snapped to find hyunjin’s playful yet determined gaze headed straight at you was not something you would’ve ever thought to add to your bingo board.

ever.

you: no you won’t hyunjin: try me

your eyes nearly doubled in size when you returned your line of sight in hyunjin’s direction, only to see the slow, comical way the long-haired guy is raising his hand while keeping his eyes on you, lips tipped up into a masked grin.

“yes, mr. hwang?”

fuck.

you scrambled on your phone while mr. kang—as well as the rest of the attendees of the class, fixed their eyes on hyunjin, quietly wondering what would come out of those lips of his.

“oh, i’m just wondering if—"

you: FINE I’M MOVING you: JUST SHUT UP you: PLEASE

And you swore you could see the way his lips turned into a victorious grin through the back of his head.

“if?” mr. kang repeated, seemingly a little impatient at hyunjin’s antics. to be fair, you actually felt the same way.

“if you have any movie or documentaries related to the topics you will be teaching this semester,” hyunjin’s voice rang loud and clear—as if the question had been his initial motive all along, and you’re simply a victim of his little magic trick.

“personally i do learn better through those mediums, mr. kang,” hyunjin perfected his question, smile as innocent as a puppy, and as he looked around the hall, scanning the dozens of nodding heads to his statement,

hyunjin made sure to lock eyes with you for a second longer.

“and i think my friends agree with me.”

“you’re an ass,” you hissed as soon as you secured the seat next to hyunjin, shooting daggers out of your eyes while the latter chuckled. given, hyunjin’s question did made your move less suspicious since mr. kang actually took a liking to the idea and decided to substitute one of the assignments into this movie presentation group project, but still—you were so close to losing your dignity in front of dozens of your peers, on the first day of the new semester.

“would’ve been easier had you listened the first time,” he playfully retorted, remnants of victory still glimmered in his eyes, “and now you know i’m a man of my words. win-win situation for both of us.”

“as if,” you groaned in annoyance despite failing to even make a dent to hyunjin’s victorious grin. “you are the only one benefiting from this, mr. hwang. i’m merely a victim in this scheme of yours.”

“ouch—mr. hwang? really now?” hyunjin placed a hand over his heart, pretending as if he has been shot despite the wicked smile plastered across his face, “do you really want to hurt me like that?”

if you were to be honest, you do enjoy your playful bickers with hyunjin. it made him less of a muse and more of a… human. a regular college boy, who just so happened to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself and sent here with an exceptional heart of gold.

like he’s just a boy.

“seemed fair enough,” instead, you replied with a mischievous grin while greeting a couple of hyunjin’s friends joining your little group.

“1-1, mr. hwang.”

the massive numbers displayed on your phone screen further validates the exhaustion you felt looming over your shoulders. it’s only the first week of the new semester and you’re already held up on campus way past your classes—how are you supposed to survive the rest of the school year?

to be fair, you really do love what you’re studying right now. it’s what you’ve always wanted to be since you were a child, and to be able to live out your inner child’s dream is one of your prides—but god, it did not make things easier to actually do.

just as you slipped your screen away, sparing yourself from a bunch of exhausting thoughts as your footsteps led you to your bus stop, a pack of gummy bear suddenly popped out of thin air in front of your eyes, causing you to stumble backwards onto the—

warm surface?

“i’m not a gummy sharing type of person, but i think you need this more than i do.”

pushing yourself off the other’s figure, you didn’t need to turn around to figure out the person’s identity—but you did anyway.

“gee, thanks mr. hwang,” you playfully snickered, snatching the bag of gummy and popped one unfortunate strawberry flavored bear in your mouth, “didn’t know you’re so kind.”

over the past week, you found out that you surprisingly have quite a lot of classes together with hyunjin and a few of his friends. you’re thankful he dropped the ‘i saved you a seat’ act by the third class you shared and let you actually sit amongst your friends, but in ways you don’t even understand, you somehow kept getting sorted in the same groups as hyunjin. well, at least now you no longer freeze up while hyunjin’s around.

“oh, can you drop that already,” hyunjin groaned, lips pursing into a subtle pout, “the others are starting to call me mr. hwang too thanks to you, you know.”

you couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip past your lips to hyunjin’s protest, already with a picture in your head about the whining he would’ve done once his closest friends started to pick up hyunjin’s objection to the nickname and used the name against him. how adorable he would’ve—

wait.

adorable?

hyunjin’s supposed to be simply your muse—maybe a fried at best! you don’t call your friends adorable, do you?

“you started it!” shaking your head in an attempt to rid the word from the nooks and crannies of your brain, you instead defended yourself while offering hyunjin the pack of gummies at the same time.

“what do you mean i started it!” hyunjin groaned, still popping a gummy in his mouth in the process, “i was just simply requesting your presence at the spot I have reserved for you!”

“and threatened to embarrass me if i didn’t move!” you deflected, playfully glaring at the latter. “don’t you dare omit that part, you sneaky weasel! i thought I was going to have to drop the class due to embarrassment!”

the crease between hyunjin’s brows grew thicker when he realized he couldn’t counter your protest, resulting in another pout to form on his lips, now clearer than before. it made you feel a little guilty—did you go a little too far? was he offended by the—

“i just wanted to get closer to you.”

…wait.

wait—what?

“i know it’s a lame excuse,” hyunjin’s groans turn muffled as he hid his face behind the palms of his hands, “it’s just—i don’t know, i find you fun? i know we just started talking after that group project but i like talking about stuff with you and even after the group project ended i just kept finding myself wanting to talk to you? i just—”

“whoa whoa—slow down!” you instinctively grabbed hyunjin’s shoulders; not too hard to shake him off, just enough to gently ground him back from his rambles. “breathe, you don’t need to explain anything to me, hyunjin. just breathe.”

well, frankly you do need an explanation—just… not from this adorably frantic hyunjin.

no, scratch that—just frantic.

not adorably.

just frantic.

hyunjin’s face was nearly the shade of the gummy bear packet you still had on your hand, and as much as you didn’t want to embarrass him more than he’s already feeling, your lips seemed to have their own plans when they curled up into a grin.

“don’t even say anything,” he warned, fingers now pointing at the rapidly growing grin on your face. “just don’t.”

you would honestly love to comply to hyunjin’s wishes, really—after all, you’re the type to honor and respect your friend’s wishes…

but is he just a friend?

“I’m not!” you stated, but despite throwing your hands up in a sign of defeat, hyunjin knew better when he noticed the constant degree of smile etched across your face,

“I just never would have thought that the campus crush,” you emphasized, trails of laughter already slipping past your lips in harmony to hyunjin’s exasperated sigh, “the mr. hwang hyunjin himself, is quite clumsy at making new friends.”

hyunjin was genuinely dumbfounded at your accusation.

“no i’m not!” he protested, subconsciously following your footstep as you got ready to catch your nearing bus, “it’s not that i’m bad at making friends, i just—”

hyunjin’s explanation were cut short when your bus finally arrived, prompting another frown to appear on his face when you hopped on without sparing him another glance. dejected, hyunjin turned around and—

“hyunjin!”

the speed at how quickly hyunjin turned on his heels at your voice nearly made you giggle. from one of the opened windows from the back of the bus, you locked eyes with hyunjin and smiled.

“text me your excuses and we’ll see if you’re actually good at making friends!” you shouted as the bus began to drove away, only allowing you to witness a faint ‘okay!’ along with an excited wave before hyunjin disappeared behind the curve of the crossroad.

well, maybe hyunjin is adorable after all.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[astraaa3]

Hello ! You can request Valentino X Reader. where Valentino adores the reader's breasts.

Thanks in advance and good luck.

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one, I'll admit. My Hazbin Hotel brainrot is just getting worse. *giggles in: I am going to hell for my degeneracy*. ANYWAY, here is the request. Don't forget to keep them coming~

I kept the reader gn since I believe all chests need to be appreciated, from girl tiddies, to man tiddies, to enby tiddies, etc. In whatever size they come in.

Feedback is much appreciated and welcomed. <33

=========♡=========

Valentino x Gn!Reader Headcanons (+small prompt)

Given Valentino's line of work the sight of tits, ass, and/or any other explicit body part doesn't particularly excite him.

That said, he didn't particularly find anything interesting about your chest at first either

It was a few months into your relationship when he realized how much he adored your chest

One night, after the two of you were done with your 'nightly activities' he dropped his head onto your chest while he was still inside of you with your legs wrapped around his waist

You waited for him to move, but to your surprise he fell asleep his head on your chest

Since that day he took every opportunity he could grab your chest or lay his head on it

And well, Valentino being Valentino, the opportunity was whenever he saw you.

It didn't matter if you were working or if you were chatting with someone

You didn't even dare to complain since he threatened to kill the last person who 'kept' him from fondling your chest

It was even more embarrassing when this happened in front of the other Vees

Velvette found this quirk of your relationship with Valentino to be particularly annoying and unsightly; it also increased the number of time she called Valentino a piss baby

All in all, while your relationship did have ups and (a lot of) downs due to Valentino's possessive and short temper, the one thing that remained constant was the cuddling at the end of a long day, his head pressed against your chest as you hugged him (seeing him so vulnerable and open almost made you forget how afraid you were of him when he got furious at something random that you did)

=========♡=========

Small prompt:

You were laying on the couch, your head supported by the armrest and your legs strewn out in whatever weird position you found comfortable at that moment. You were scrolling to Voxstragram while some random show was playing on the TV, serving as white noise.

Your moment of peace didn't last long however as you could hear from the hallway that Valentino was coming, aaand he was yelling on the phone. You sighed rolling your eyes at your significant other's short temper. Your shoulders jump up startled as Valentino slams the door open throwing his phone into the wall before quickly walking over to you and doing the same thing with your phone. You look at him incredulous and slightly indignant, as he huffs sitting down on the couch. He lights a cigarette rambling about whatever stupid shit one of his actors did as he grabs you by the arm pulling you into his lap. He buries his head into your chest out of frustration, his shoulder relaxing soon after, as he makes content clicking noises (which you found completely adorable; to be fair, you found everything about his moth anatomy and habits to be adorable, even if you would never tell him that out of fear of him throwing a tantrum over being called that out of all things).

You sighed laying your head on top of Valentino's closing your eyes as you half listen to the TV still playing in the background. "My knees are gonna be sore from staying like... Just another day with Valentino." you think smiling softly as you fall asleep in the less than comfortable position.

[quotespile]

In a world as weird and cruel as this one we have made for ourselves, I figure anybody who can find peace and personal happiness without ripping off somebody else deserves to be left alone. They will not inherit the earth, but then neither will I... And I have learned to live, as it were, with the idea that I will never find peace and happiness, either. But as long as I know there's a pretty good chance I can get my hands on either one of them every once in a while, I do the best I can between high spots.

Hunter S. Thompson, The Great Shark Hunt

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Okay so how about a delirious or gravely injured hero / villain who starts telling the other details about their secret identity because they’re so sure they’re not going to make it while the other is like don’t even think about dying on me ?

"Look," the villain hissed. They pressed their hand into the wound the supervillain had stabbed into them. Flesh had ripped open and blood had been mercilessly dropping to the ground for the last few minutes. It was fair to say that the hero had...overdone it. The villain knew they could forget their own strength every now and then but they hadn't expected them to kill the supervillain that brutally. "I am dying."

The villain leaned their head back but the headache would not die. They dared to peek at the supervillain's body and somehow allowed themselves to relax. Years of anger and anxiety were gone now. Some peace was a good thing. Ignoring the tears and the pain, their eyes found the hero.

"Don't be ridiculous," the hero said but still, the villain could hear their voice shake. Whenever the hero's wall which they had built around their heart crumbled like this, the villain felt some weird sense of accomplishment. Wasn't this their job? Changing the hero? Even if the villain wasn't a good person, was this a good deed?

"No," the villain said. They grabbed the hero's wrist. Their nemesis was panicking, staring at the villain's wound in shock. "I am dying, love."

The hero shook their head and the villain wasn't sure if the pain made them hallucinate the tears in the hero's eyes or if those were actually real. They had never seen the hero this emotional.

"My parents aren't buried in the city," the villain said. "But I wouldn't mind if you chose a cemetery here."

"No."

"I have a cat, also. You need to take care of her. She's only five months old. I found her on the streets a while ago." The villain's hand crawled up the hero's arm until they found their hand and squeezed. "God, I thought I'd have some more time."

They couldn't even stop the tears. Couldn't control anything. Their vision spun and they felt bad for forcing the hero to watch them die. It was a little selfish, wasn't it? But wasn't it also a human desire?

Not to die alone?

"I have a sister, too. She lives far away, though. Maybe you'll find her phone number in my apartment? Could you take care of that? I know it's a lot to ask..."

"Don't you dare. I didn't murder someone for you to die now. I didn't protect you all these months for you to..." The hero swallowed and wiped thick tears away. For a second, the villain seriously thought they were dead already. I didn't protect you... "You cannot die now. I won't let you. You're too important to me."

"It's fine, I..." The hero pulled out their phone and dialed 911 with shaky fingers. The villain's eyes widened but they were too weak to protest. The hero tried to breathe but it was clear that it was quite troubling for them to take normal breaths. They were fighting just as much as the villain.

The villain had given up already, though.

"Yes, hello. I would like to report a murder. I killed someone. I also need an ambulance...I injured someone else, too," the hero said. "Locate my position."

They hung up.

"Fuck, what are you...?" The villain's heart was beating faster than ever. They couldn't believe what the hero had just told the authorities. Confessing a murder like this...asking for an ambulance? The villain wouldn't make it in time and the hero would go to jail either way.

This couldn't be happening. The villain had wanted them to live a quiet life, not dying young in prison. The amount of villain's the hero had already sent to jail was impressive and if the hero joined them, they wouldn't survive the first night.

The villain moaned when they moved. Pain was taking over and they weren't sure if they wanted to throw up or pass out.

"They won't put you in jail when you're injured like this. Especially not when I am the one who's responsible. They've been hunting you for quite a while now but in this case I am the criminal. This buys you time and they can actually save you at the hospital." The hero took in a greedy breath and closed their eyes. More tears.

"You're insane, you're-" The hero took their hand.

"It's the only way to save you. Your blood type is A+, right?" Perhaps? The villain wanted to throw up. This wasn't happening, the hero hadn't just pulled their Go to Jail Card intentionally.

"I think so?" The villain started to sweat and suddenly, it felt as if the world wanted to push them into the afterlife. They refused to die, now that the hero had confessed to a crime. But they feared they had no control over that either.

"Mine is A-, so I can donate. I'll try to stay on the ambulance, if they let me." The hero seemed to be back in their cold self. Always calculating, always thinking. Their poor hero. Always fighting.

"You'll go to prison," the villain whispered.

"And I will find a way to crawl back to you," the hero said. "I always will."

[bunnies-and-loverboys]

To the (trans)masculine person looking to get into actually wearing lolita fashion

including out and about, and not just in the secret of one’s bedroom

Hi! I’m an average trans guy with a love of lolita fashion and also a big hairy bear body that is very much not a cisgender woman’s body. Here are some pieces of advice I have collected from my time wearing the fashion, that I think can make the experience of wearing the frills a happier one when one is transmasculine, or, frankly, any sort of masculine.

The list is a bit long, so it's under the "read more". Happy reading!

Evaluate what makes you uncomfortable in a gender-related way and what doesn’t, then act in consequence. I know that having long hair and wearing skirts doesn’t bother me, but shaving myself makes me feel quite dysphoric. Thus, I wear my lolita dresses and skirts happily, while sporting a neatly trimmed beard.

Experiment to avoid some bad surprises. Related to the first piece of advice, if you don’t know whether something will make you feel uncomfortable/less manly/dysphoric, try it out in private before you go to an event, to avoid feeling uncomfortable at the event or having to leave before you want to out of discomfort. I wasn’t sure If I’d feel better taking pictures of myself in my lolita coords without a beard or with, so I shaved and tried to take pictures and found that I preferred to sport my facial hair while wearing lolita. While experimenting beforehand won't get rid of ALL bad surprises, it'll already be a good number avoided.

Be ready for things to not fit you as they should or not fit you at all, but do not get discouraged. A lot of lolita clothes are made with a conventional woman's body in mind. If you do not have breasts, you might find that some tops and dresses have weird proportions on you, like the waist of a garment being much smaller than the bust of that garment. In that case, either look for custom sized clothes or get a size bigger than what you’d need and alter it/get it altered to fit you. If you are taller, or broad in the shoulders, or fat, or multiple of those qualifiers, it will be harder to find lolita clothes that fit you, but there are options. Some brands have wider ranges of size or provide custom sizing; turn to those. Don’t beat yourself up about smaller clothes not fitting you, although I know it is hard when you really like the design of something and it doesn’t come in your size; some people alter things that don’t fit them to make them bigger, though, so not all is lost. If you want to start making your own lolita clothes, go for it, it is not seen as a bad thing, in fact, most people I’ve met found it really cool.

Be prepared for strangers to be weird about lolita fashion. That may come in the form of being asked strange questions (“Are you a boy or a girl? Is this a regional costume? Is it cosplay?”) or in the form of people looking at you weird and whispering among themselves, or in some cases even heckling or worse. Some may opt to do specific things for peace of mind. For instance, when commuting in lolita fashion, I wear a face mask and long socks to get less attention about my facial and body hair. It is also good to be in groups while commuting, or at least with one other person you know. If people are weird to you, remember it's them being weird and not your responsibility for them being weird; you're just out and about wearing clothes.

Be prepared for people to assume that you are a woman if you are not displaying any conventional outward sign of masculinity while wearing lolita fashion. For some people, I understand that it may be a dealbreaker, especially if you are a transgender man who has spent a lot of time and effort into be recognized as a man publicly. Personally, while I don’t like it, I understand that they are rarely blessed with meeting someone who wears lolita fashion, much less men doing so, and do I consider it a fair, if unfortunately wrong, assumption. Additionally, be prepared for people to assume that you are a transgender woman if you are displaying outward signs of masculinity while wearing lolita fashion. Most people who aren’t super informed about queer people know of transgender women more than they know of gender-non-conforming transgender men, and some more bigoted people will lump cis queer men and transgender women together arbitrarily in their refusal to understand more about transgender people or queer people in general. While being a transgender woman is not an insult (though some people may try to make it one, in less elegant terms), you can politely inform them that you are a man if it suits you to do so, or ignore them and go about your day.

Wearing lolita fashion as a man is definitely intimidating, but if you love the way it looks and find ways to make it work for you, and you have fun wearing it, then you’re doing it right. Lolita fashion is about unashamed joy in pretty details, and anyone of any gender has a right to unashamed joy in the garments they want to wear. A lot of lolita fashion wearers I have met welcomed me gladly upon seeing me genuinely enjoy the fashion, and a number of them are queer themselves, although most often women. So, there’s room for men in lolita fashion, and let us never forget that Mana, the icon himself, is, after all, a man (although not the big and hairy variety).

I haven’t seen a whole lot of men rocking the fashion, and even less the ones with a bear physique, but I hope this encourages anyone who has been wanting to try, but felt intimidated by it, to give it a shot!

[bloodycyrano]

I want to lore dump about my BG3 storyline and OCs so bad, but at the same time I don't want to release any information before it would come out in the future chapters of my fanfic, so to stave off the dark urge, here's.... 🥁🥁🥁

Team Tadpole doing sweet things for each other part 2!

Sometimes, when Astarion has trouble resting at night, Gale will stay up with him and play chess- They started with card games, but Astarion cheats like a fox. He still cheats at chess, but not as often.

Karlach probably notices when her comrades are in pain after battle, and will hug a sack of rocks until they heat up to make a sort of makeshift heating pad for sore muscles.- Bonus points, She'll borrow some scented oils from Halsin to add an element of aromatherapy.

Gale has 100% done talis card readings for Team tadpole when they deal with heavy emotional stuff, if only to help them find their path forward. Maybe he isn't the best at verbal comfort, but magic is one thing he knows he can use for at least some benefit.

I feel like Gale also notices when people aren't dealing well with things, and will purposefully annoy Durge so they have someone to pick on and hopefully feel a little better afterwards. They're definitely the sort of friends that pretend to hate each other, but are there when you need them. Durge definitely brings out his petty side, but its all in good fun. Usually.

While maybe they have a bit of a rocky relationship, I also believe Durge would indulge Gales special interests and let him ramble about things, because they know what it's like to have to shut up to make other people happy. I also feel like Gale would return the favor and deliberately ask about weird, macabre things so that Durge actually has an excuse to bring up topics that interest them.

Wyll has a knitting hobby. You probably wouldn't expect it, but he definitely does. And he's really really good at it, too. He uses every holiday as an excuse to gift people things like socks, scarves, mittens, etc. And I mean EVERY holiday. Earth day, valentines day, national owlbear day (Which is totally not something he made up as an excuse to give people their presents early), etc. The thing is, he notices when people complain about their socks getting worn from traveling, and gets random ideas for gifts at 3 AM, and then spends the rest of the night knitting. He has also been known to make cute little knitted outfits for the group pets in the winter, because he thought Scratch was getting cold.

Adding onto this, Lae'zel is the only person Wyll is willing to go to for a blunt and honest opinion on the gifts he makes before he gives them. Lae'zel doesn't take this lightly, either. While maybe she doesn't show it, she takes this very seriously and is somewhat honored that Wyll came to her instead of anyone else.

Shadowheart tends to replenish Wylls yarn reserve without telling him as well. She asks Lae’zel what colours he's run out of, and then sneak some extra spools into his pack. Wyll still doesn't know who's been doing it, but he's thankful nonetheless. And it's one thing the cleric and the gith can actually be somewhat peaceful about.

Durge doesn't take all of their kills lightly. When it comes to someone they actually respected, there's a ritual they perform afterward that they read about in Withers old temple. They'll grind bone and ash into ink and take time to write out the names of those they respected, and bury it with the bodies. As well as little offerings as well. It isn't a short process either.. Durge will spend the entire night locked in their caravan burning incense, praying their name to Jergal in hopes that the spirit will find rest, and doing little things in honor of the dead.- It isn't hard for team tadpole to figure out when Durge has taken the life of someone they held a genuine respect for, and will be careful not to disturb them, or leave bones or herbs/flowers on the steps of their caravan. Karlach and Astarion will occasionally come to check on them. While maybe it doesn't happen often, it does happen. Withers was particularly surprise to begin receiving prayers after all this time, but it strengthened a sort of bond between the two.

[shkika]

Got any Headcanon backstory of how each iterator was named? Like, how did No Significant Harassment get his name? How did Five Pebbles get his name? Etc, etc. I'm curious what you think!

OHH what a fun ask to make up stuff on actually. Sure I have some headcanons. Iterator names are so so fun, because there's a lot you can do with them.

Different local groups could have themes perhaps on their names. Or perhaps their names are phrases or sayings or derive from them. I will go with each colony having their individual meaning for the iterator name.

Sliver of Straw- I've talked about her name extensively here! (x) Please check it out, because I LOVE her name. Basically means needle in a haystack + shortening it to SOS is genius. Just the best.

Looks To The Moon- I don't know if this is the most original take, but I do think her name has a lot of meaning especially if you take into account that she's one of the first or at least an extremely old iterator. I compare it to the landing on the Moon in a way even if it sounds silly. This impossible to reach place is now something well withing reach. Her name is to represent looking at opportunity at the impossible and striving to achieve it. Which can connect to.. well answering the impossible ascension question.

Five Pebbles- This is such a hard one for me. But since the game makes such strong parallels between those two. Making them opposites and such it makes sense to see that in their names. While Looks to the Moon's name is grand and aiming for high achievements. Five Pebbles' name could perhaps be about the smaller mundane things. Finding the solution in a little nook or cranny somewhere close to you. A place where you'd least expect it.

One name is to aim hight and strive for the impossible. The other is about staying low and finding the answer in the small things in life. Which is hilarious if you look at their actual characters. With FP making the bold dangerous decisions and experiments and LTTM vibing like a much more grounded character than him. I love those two.

No Significant Harassment- People find his name really weird which is amusing, because it's really not! To me at least. It can very simply mean "No real harm done". Which I think is probably the intention and it suits his funny guy personality quite a lot. In a way his name could mean peace! A fun hc I discussed with @creeket is that perhaps before NSH was built the colony was divided into four factions/houses that hated each other. The iterator was a reason for them to unite and work on something together which is what the four connected diamonds on his forehead represent.

Seven Red Suns- Okay this is one of the names I struggle the most with. My headcanons about SRS which I've mentioned before is that their colony is very religious and made them as an actual god, treating him as an actual all knowing god much muuch more than the other iterators are treated to the point Seven Red Suns has actual political power (which they really don't want to have). So I think their name is supposed to express how grand and impressive they are. Seven as in complete, perfect. Red is a royal, regal color and of course Suns further cementing their godhood. It makes me think of how the sun is often personified or given a deity to represent it. It can be a cruel leader that dries the land, but also give life and light.

Of course there's many ways to take it in completely different ways. Red stars if I'm not mistaken are the coldest.

Chasing Wind- I also really really like this iterator name. I like to imagine it as either one of two things or both. Chasing after something that is right in front of you yet just barely out of grasp. Like y'know the wind! Or your head is Chasing wind. Having an abundance of thoughts or ideas. Your imagination and creativity running wild and free like the wind!

Unparalleled Innocence- It's so on the nose haha. There is no buts or anything that is a direct opposite to her name in my headcanons. She's a very well meaning innocent person. She was the last iterator to be ever made and lacks a lot more context than the other. She was based of the concept of a child. Which of course children are known for their innocence and unique approach to the world.

[perfectprofessorloverapricot]

•| A not so stolen youth |•

Stranger things / chapter 3

Summary: Everything in life seemed limited to walls of whites and rainbows. Caged within the confines of the lab. But an accident that involved a group of teenagers and the upside down world finally let him free. In a funny turn of events he found himself hiding in a step sibling's shed. A redhead that loves video games and a blond that spends his time making sure to keep his good looks.

Character: Male child OC

Warnings: Possible to descriptive scenes, child abuse, use of drugs and bad language.

A/N: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.

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It was early in the morning, every kid was either at school or at home because they’re sick. All except for one.

Thirteen walked with tranquility through the groups of trees scattered all over the town. He found that the only onces that walked there were a few really young kids, other than that, the coast is completely clear.

But what is not completely clear is his mind. The day before he saw something that brought back awful memories. He found out, his father is not the only man like that in the world and he isn’t the only one like him out there. He would like to say that he doesn’t understand Billy completely, but he does.

The teenage has moments of calmness when he usually keeps to himself or even glances at him as if inspecting his soul, and moments of complete chaos when he is hostile against anything and anyone near him.

Billy was angry at his father, that much was evident, but he couldn’t do a thing because he knew it was useless. That was a feeling he could relate a little bit to well.

It happened too often to him in the lab. Loosing his papa’s respect brought a lot of punishment with it and answering it only left him in pain. His only solution was to hold back and resist. But that led to future explosions where he sent his guards flying or breaking an entire room with a scream.

He was labeled as dangerous and forced to stay isolated.

He was thinking of ways to help make him feel better but nothing came to mind other than a present.

But what?

Or maybe, some company? That’s what he wanted when he was in the lab. Maybe that’s what Billy needs at home.

Before he could think about other options, his senses detected something. He heard a pair of soft footsteps quite some distance further in front of him but instead of dreading to find the person a familiar feeling made itself present in the back of his mind. He waited.

As silent as ever, he walked cautiously towards the sound.

Both kids that found themselves in front of one another gasped in surprise. They know each other.

The curly haired girl smiled at the boy receiving a smile in return.

“Eleven.” Whispered the boy, walking closer to her.

“Thirteen.” Once close enough they engulfed each other in a big hug, giggling, happy to realize they both basically survived.

The kids pulled away, still connected by their arms, smiling like no other day.

They had so much to talk about.

“-and then, she taught how to skateboard.” Commented the boy with glee.

They have been talking for about an hour about what’s happened the last year after escaping the lab and getting in contact with the upside down. So far, everything’s been peaceful.

He was happy to know that she was also taken care off by a good guy, even though she puts a kind of weird expression when she mentions him, she stills seems to trust him a lot too.

“But…” he made a pause and sunk in the log they were both seating at the reminder of what happened a few hours ago. “Her papa…” he turned his eyes from his joined hands to the attentive look of eleven. “He is like our papa.”

Eleven gasped softly at the revelation.

“She and Billy hide me.” His lips curved a little at the sides. He always gets a warm and fluffy feeling in his chest at the reminder of people that care about his safety. “She gave me clothes.” He gripped the fabric of the blue hoodie in his chest. The same that keeps his body heat from escaping. “And a name. Magnus.”

Eleven gave him a close-lipped smile. They don’t know each other as well as she would like too because they were separated in the lab. They met only after the rest of the kids disappeared and their father needed more power to connect with the unknown world. But couldn’t interact that much in a friendly way under the scrutinizing eyes of their handlers. He always wore a frown accompanied with tired eyes. So she is happy to see him finally smile, even in the slightest.

“And you?” He asked, giving her the opportunity to express something that might be bothering her.

“Hopper is good.” She nodded. “But he lies.” The kid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He says, one day I’ll leave to see my friends but that never happens. He promised soon, but soon never comes.”

Thirteen lowered his head in sadness. He knows that feeling, or he knew, before living with his only friend.

“He says it’s dangerous, that it’s for my protection.” The kid wrapped an arm around her in a side hug to comfort her.

In moments like that he wished he was more like magneto and fight for their freedom.

But he couldn’t, he was just a kid after all. All he could do was make her aware that she’s not alone.

A certain blonde haired teenage boy was currently tightening a screw on the engine of his blue baby Camaro.

He was finishing changing the air filter. After what happened the day before with his father he has been looking for ways to release some pent-up pressure. He already said goodbye to his last hook up an hour ago, he doesn’t know where Max is because she was late and he left her to skate home alone and he already worked out in the living room but nothing seemed to make his anger decrease.

Billy huffed once he was finished, cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his dirtied hand. It wasn’t enough but that’ll have to do.

“Jesus.” Exclaimed the blond once he turned around and found the boy behind him, startling him. Weirdly attentive to what he was doing. “What the hell are you doing there? Are you a creep?” He asked with annoyance. He had almost sent the tool in his hand flying.

The kid just kept looking at him and the car with his big blue eyes and shrugged. He didn’t know what ‘creep’ means.

Billy raised a brow at the look of wonder in the kids face. He has seen it a few times before, directed to him, like trying to figure him out, which makes him edgy, but this time it was directed more to his car. “Never seen a car before?” He asked mockingly.

Unknown to him, the first time the boy saw a car was when he escaped from the lab. Ever since that day, the younger one has been greatly interested in the weird machines that roll faster than any adult he has ever seen runs.

Billy furrowed his brows when the only answer he got was the kid leaning his head to the side, still looking at the car.

Was he really that stupid? No, he couldn’t be. They would have already found him if that was the case, but he would have to live under a rock to not know what a car is.

“What, cat got your tongue, brat?” Thirteen shook his head and stick his tongue out to demostrarte it was still there making Billy huffed and turned to his car.

What a weird kid.

He grabbed the car’s hood and slam it shut to make sure it was closed.

“Cool.” Alluded the boy walking closer to the drivers side.

“What?” Thirteen glanced at Billy for a moment before returning to the inside of the vehicle repeating his word.

“Cool.” He is not completely sure if his using correctly the word Max taught him. ‘A word to describe something that’s better than amazing.’ Is what she said, and that is exactly what he thinks about the car.

“Huh, at least you have taste.” Said Billy as he wiped his hands in a towel he had hanging from his short’s waistband. Until he got an idea. Something that would help him destress and he used to do it a lot in California. “Hey brat.”

Thirteen turned towards Billy, not knowing what ‘brat’ means but understanding he wanted his attention. He blinked a few times, watching the weird look in the teenager’s eyes. He had an idea.

Billy would never in his life know what led him to do what he did, but the next thing he knows, he is driving top speed in one of the many lonely roads in the outer sides of Hawkins with the kid in the copilot seat. He loves to use the backroads.

He thought the kid would be scared shitless, however, the kid was grasping the seatbelt like his life depends on it (because it does) with the biggest smile Billy has ever seen.

But he doesn’t care that the kid didn’t get scared he was too concentrated in the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the speed to actually pay attention. He didn’t even light the cigarette between his lips because it wasn’t needed.

Billy whooped in ecstasy and bobbed along the surprisingly not so loud music. It was more important the roar of the engine than the beat coming from the stereo.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Cheered Billy with his always sharp smile.

But that wasn’t the best part, he was waiting for the right moment to put his car modifications to the test. In a way he couldn’t in the crowded city of California.

His smile widened when he saw what he was looking for. A wide straight doble lane road.

It’s show time.

He stepped on the break and pulled the hand brake simultaneously, then turned the wheel completely to one side in a second. The car instantly followed the action, turning with so much force skidding the tires in the street. Making a U turn by drifting.

Billy laughed loudly while the kid beside him screamed for his life. The wheels scraped the floor until the vehicle came to a stop in the other side of the road. Facing the opposite direction.

Not waiting for anything, he pushed the hand break back down and step on the gas. The wheels screeched against the ground, leaving marks, before moving at full speed back to the house.

At the speed he was driving it only took him 10 minutes to arrive.

He got out of the car after killing the engine and lit the cigarette between his lips, taking a drag as if it was pure oxygen he was inhaling. Finally he felt a little bit better.

So lost in his relief he didn’t pay attention to the passenger in his car. He only turned his head back when he heard a thud. He found the passenger seat empty and the door opened. He huffed thinking the kid just left without closing the door but he stop when he went around the car and found the kid basically face planted in the dirt while giggling.

Billy scoffed a laugh almost sending the cigarette in mouth flying. He was positive the kid was high with adrenaline. He saw the kid try to stand up in his jelly legs only to fall on his side.

“What the hell?” Billy didn’t need to turn around to know who that was. He merely rolled his eyes when the redhead rushed by him to get to the kid. “What did you do to him?” She asked when the kid tried to stand up again with her help but stumbled to the side like he was drunk. She got even more confused when she heard him giggle.

“I fixed your damn brat.” He grumbled taking a drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and returning to the house. He wanted to take a shower.

Max looked between the retreating back of her step brother and the kid seating in the dirt with a big smile in his face.

Could it be possible that Billy changed his mind?

No, that is not something Billy could ever do.

But either way, she was relieved that he was at least tolerating the kid’s presence.

If Max thought they had made a progress with Billy after the ride he had with Magnus. She was wrong.

The very next day his anger returned when he saw her talking to Lucas. There was no problem with that, she didn’t plan to be part of their club of hypocrites anyway.

Well, that was her plan, until the very next day she wanted to go to the arcade to play dig dug and forget everything only to be tricked in to the breakroom by Lucas himself. They argued about the veracity of the fanciful story Lucas told her ensuring that it was the truth.

Leaving the arcade Billy saw him at the door. At first he acted eerily calm while accusing her of disobeying and lying. But a silent threat was made evident later in the afternoon when Billy broke her skateboard when reversing in his car.

It was his way of telling her he could ‘accidentally’ break something without a problem.

He became a ticking time bomb and she didn’t want to be there to see it explode because she would be the collateral damage, and possibly with her, Magnus too. Even though he has mostly ignored the kid in the last days, it was obvious the anger he was holding in.

Taking every posible outcome Max took a decision. She’ll go back to Cali to her father and she’ll take Magnus with her.

The kid already had a new name, and no one will be looking for a kid in another city, miles away from were he was.

That’s how she found herself in this position. Fidgeting with her fingers inside her hoodie pockets, feeling the money between her fingers and watching attentively at Magnus sitting in her bed and messing with her Walkman.

She got the money by telling her mother that she wanted to buy a new shirt but she wanted the money to buy it herself and avoid any kind of harsh comments from Neil if she went with them to the mall in the neighboring town. Her mother, illusioned with the possibility of her daughter buying something more feminine, gladly gave her double the money she needed to buy the shirt. She thanked the heavens her mother did because she forgot the amount of money it’ll cost to buy two bus tickets.

She forgot a slight detail. The distance between her and her father was much more now that she is in Hawkins than when she was in Cali, and the tickets would be more expensive.

She already prepared two bags with things for her and Magnus. In that precise moment she has the perfect opportunity to leave with him. Her parents aren’t home and they’ll come back until night and Billy was too busy working on his muscles for his next hook up of the night to notice.

Gaining some courage Max sat next to the kid in her bed. She took a breath and spoke. “Mag-“

She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, someone calling at the door.

The kid raised his head, looking between Max and the bedroom’s closed door. He was to concentrated on the Walkman that he didn’t pay attention to the footsteps at the front door. It’s not like Billy’s blasting music trough the house helped at all.

He was already used to the volume of the music, but hearing it with the door open still hurt his head. At least the wood helps to drown out the sound. But he was still relieved that it’s not as loud as the alarms in the lab. That was a real headache.

He jumped from the bed when doorbell sounded again. He needed to hide. He turned to the window but stopped, if the person in the door somehow comes to the backside of the house he’ll be screwed. He turned to the bed. He doesn’t fit under it. As his last and only option, the kid threw himself inside the closet and closed the door, always leaving a crack to let the light come inside.

Max pressed her lips together trying to suppress a laugh. For a moment he looked like a headless chicken.

Her poorly covered smile disappeared when she heard her stepbrother yell at the next ring. “Max, are you getting that or what?”

Exasperated with him she yelled her answered “Okay.” She opened stood up stomping her way out of the room, closing the door behind her

“I swear to God Max.” Fumed the blond getting an eye roll and a glare from his sister when she walked by him. He just proceeded to lift the weights again.

From the closet, Magnus could slightly hear the door opening and closing over the music, along with Max’s voice from the other side of the door, indicating that now she was outside with whoever was at the door. He couldn’t tell what they were talking about because the music muffled their voices.

He waited for a moment, relieved that Max at least sounded like she knew the person outside. He was also aware that it wasn’t Neil, he could have heard his truck parking or his gruff voice booming in the house.

He waited a little while until she finally came back, closing the door behind her. She turned to Magnus watching the window in wariness. She knew why. Lucas was outside of the window. “Magnus.” She called for his attention.

He turned to her, blinking a few times.

“I… ammm.” She fidget in her place looking for the words to say. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she just made up her mind and decided she’ll find out what’s really happening with Lucas and his group because deep down she still wishes to have friends. “I’ll live with the stalker for a few hours. He says he has proof or something.”

“Where?” Came the silent question from the kid. Max almost didn’t hear it with Billy’s blasting music coming through the door.

“To the old junkyard.” Magnus lifted a brown and tilted his head slightly to the side. There was nothing in there other than trash and forgotten stuff. Nevertheless, he nodded, understanding that she is going there like really few other teenagers do. “Okay, then. I’ll be back.” She said, making the reference of the terminator movie even though Magnus didn’t catch it.

She turned to one of the two opened windows. The one closest to the bed. She stepped on the woodshed outside before stopping and turning to Magnus who was seating in her closet.

“Don’t talk with Billy if he doesn’t talk to you, by the way. He’s not in the mood and can get cranky.” Magnus smiled at the thought but nodded again.

Don’t talk to Billy. Copy.

Max said a soft goodbye before exiting when she heard the boy outside telling her to speed up. He even heard her commenting that whatever they were doing better be worth it.

Minutes later after she left, Magnus stayed in her closet. He was to engrossed in the Walkman she borrowed him.

The interest came when he returned from the store he likes to visit (steal from) with a cassette tape he found behind the garbage dump.

He put on the headphones and changed the tapes the way Max instructed him to. He pressed play instantly jumping in his place and accidentally trowing the headphones. The volume was too high. Even with the headphones in the floor he could hear it clearly.

He decreased the volume to the minimum before putting the headphones back on. The rhythm of the music was somewhat similar to the songs Billy hears when exercising but not as scandalous. He turned the Walkman over to see the tape through the see through cover. The letters in the side said ‘Call Me by blondie’ and something else he couldn’t read due to the blurred sharpie. He likes it though.

He bobbed his head to the rhythm of the music, not caring that he could hear Billy’s music through the headphones. He liked it. He found his taste in music.

Still moving his head to the beat, he stood up and walked to the window farthest from the bed. He sat on the window sill dangling his feet for a couple of second before jumping out. He looked at the full woodshed beside him before returning to the shed. Walkman in hand.

He’ll wait for Max in there.

It’s been a few hours and Max still hasn’t retuned. Magnus got bored since he doesn’t know where Max’s tapes are and he can’t read so well, so he decided to steal an apple from the Hargroves’ fridge.

Meanwhile, the blond teenager was done exercising, taking a shower and currently sharpening his look before his date (hook up). He sprayed hair product in the hair locks that fell on his forehead. Turning over the bottle of colon, he spread a few drops of the liquid in his wrist, even going as far as to spread a little bit in the southern area.

He turned and posed in front of the mirror, smiling with satisfaction at the result. Taking a drag from his previously lit cigarette he leaned forward and blew the smoke against his reflexión, winking. Yep, he was ready.

His smile was erased once he heard someone calling at the door. He noticed the rush in the knock even over his blasting music. “Billy?” He knew that voice. The reason for witch his father decided it was a good idea to move.

Kind of.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit busy in here, Susan.” He answered uninterestedly.

“Open the door. Right now.” He mentally cursed when he heard his father’s commanding voice in the other side. There was no way around this.

Genuinely curious he finally opened the door finding his father frowning face and the always present worried face of Susan shielding herself behind the man.

“What’s wrong?” He cut to the chase.

Neil wasn’t at all impressed by his son’s bluntness. “Why don’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know.” He answered with obviousness in his tone. They just appeared in his door insinuating something that he isn’t aware of and yet, he is not surprised. Everything that goes wrong for Neil is always somehow his fault. No matter what.

“We can’t find Maxine-” Said Susan.

“And her window’s open.” Interrupted the man like the boss that he believes himself. Billy faltered for a second, looking in another direction before regaining himself. Even he was surprised. She was in her room with the brat a few hours ago. “Where is she?” Commanded Neil.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Scoffed the Man like his son was the worst dumbass in the world, annoying the younger.

“Look, I’m sure she just, I don’t know, went to the arcade or something.” Explained Billy, still not finding the force in his voice, kicking himself for it, and panicking internally. To avoid looking at the rising anger in his father eyes he went to the closet to retrieve his previously selected leather jacket. “I’m sure she is fine.”

Nike wasn’t having any of it. “You were supposed to watch her.” He commented, like he was just making an obvious observation.

Billy could clearly hear the covered anger under those words. But he couldn’t stop himself from arguing. He was getting annoyed.

He sighed. “I know dad. I was. It’s just you guys were three hours late, and, well, I have a date.” He slipped on the jacket and turned towards the man ready to face it and just leave. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“So that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot instead of watching your sister?”

That did it.

“I have been looking after her all week, dad. Okay?” He snapped. “She wants to run off, then that’s her problem, all right?” Neil licked the interior of his cheek, concealing his anger with an eerie façade. “She’s 13 years old. She shouldn’t need a full-time babysitter. And she is not my sister.” He turned to the radio. Stopping the music abruptly only to feel his heart drop to his stomach when Neil grabbed him by the colar of his shirt and slammed him against the shelves beside the closet.

“What did we talk about?” Asked Neil in a condescending tone. Practically whispering it in Billy’s face.

The teenager panted in anger and fear. He couldn’t answer fast enough when Neil slapped him in his left cheek, making him groan.

Susan, who once again couldn’t leave the scenario only looked the other way, feeling guilty for putting him in that situation but not doing anything fearing she could be in his position.

Neil grabbed Billy’s chin to force him to look at him before pointing with the same hand. “What. Did. We… talked about?” He made emphasis in each word.

“Respect and responsibility.”

“That is right.” Answered the man, pleased to have him under control once again. “Now, apologies to Susan.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Neil waiting for Billy while the blonde swallowed his pride and fear. “I’m sorry, Susan.” He said, never tacking his eyes from his father’s.

“It’s okay, Neil, really-“ she was interrupted when the man once again rises his voice.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about his behavior is okay. But he’s gonna make up for it.” He grumbled the last part. He finally stepped back to turn to look at Susan. “He’s gonna call whatever whore he’s seeing tonight and cancel their date.” He said as if it was the most normal thing to say. “And then he’s gonna go find his sister. Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is.” He turned once again to his son, already finished with the humiliation. “Isn’t that right, Billy?”

Billy looked at his father with watery eyes hiding all that hate and anger he harbors towards the man. If only he could make him pay or just leave.

“It’s that right?” Yelled Neil when his first answer was only silence.

“Yes, sir.” He said softly.

Neil sighted in annoyance, leaning closer to his son. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes. Sir.” He repeated. This time with more courage.

“Find max.” Demanded Neil with finality turning around and leaving the room, intimidating Susan enough for her to step away from his way.

Billy finally let the tears spill once the door was slammed close and hit the wall beside him. He hated him with all his being. He wanted to fight back, punch him or something, but the last time he tried to do it didn’t end well for him.

Sucking his feelings up and drying his tears, he left his room to the back of the house. He thanked the heavens he parked the car in the back really close to were he needs to go. The shed.

Faster than he thought, Billy reached the wooden door and gentler than he wanted to, he opened the door (still slamming it open). “Hey, brat.” He grumbled once inside.

Magnus raised his head looking at him with wide eyes. He knew it was Billy the one walking (stomping) towards the shed. But it still surprised him when the teenage barged in the shed and called for his attention, loudly.

Billy opened his mouth about to yell but stopped. He didn’t want to scare the kid that looked like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt and end up running around like a headless chicken looking for Max for scaring him, or for his father to find him hiding a kid in the shed and get his butt kicked.

Instead he took a breath before talking. “Where’s Max?”

The answer he got was the kid blinking in bewilderment hugging a comic to his chest.

“Ugh, for fucks…” he mumbled under his breath. “Do you know where is Max?” He repeated in a gentler voice, clearly containing his annoyance.

Magnus nodded his head slowly. Max told him to not talk to Billy if he didn’t speak to him first, she didn’t say anything about not telling him where she is.

Billy raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay, and?”

“The old junkyard.” He answered softly.

Damn. Now he is in trouble. He doesn’t know where that is. He slightly fidgeted in his place. “Do you know how to get there?”

Magnus nodded a slowly, still with the comic in his hands.

“Okay, then get in the car.”

Magnus instantly light up. He didn’t care that Billy used a commanding voice, he was just happy to get a raid again.

The kid quickly rushed out of the shed as silent as a mouse with an annoyed teenager following him.

Billy was already donde for the night, but unfortunately and unknown for him, it would be the longest and most eventful life of his entire life.

Hope you like the new rout I’m taking with this story.

[pigdemonart]

Do you ship Fox and Krystal?? Because they were my childhood 🥺 baby's first otp yknow

hahah I do! But with a BIG asterisk. Putting it under cut for INSANE STAR FOX RAMBLINGS

* <- the big asterisk: I ship them, but like I also am okay with them not being end-game. I think their relationship could be so much bigger than that!! OK so, let me explain. When I was a kiddo I shipped them! I was a baby furry and I loooooved that there was a playable girl character in Star Fox FINALLY (though, you know that was for only a split second bhnjmk) But now, I just think the way they were both written in the games was a little boring and one-note. Also just uncomfortable at times, since her first appearance Krystal was made out to be weird kinda-fetishy, sex-appeal and not much else. I don't think that's a controversial statement though LOL Later games I don't much feel for their chemistry either, though they have cute moments here and there. The more interesting parts about them is when they're not seeing eye-to-eye and they're apart from each other, honestly. So in my drawings I was picturing something less canon and more re-imagined. Krystal is the lone survivor of her race and she's on Sauria trying to find the truth about what happened to her home planet while also aiding the local wildlife. I don't imagine the dinosaurs speaking much in my version, but Krystal is telepathic and an empath, she can read their minds well enough to talk to them and be understood. I imagine also she knows about Andross, but doesn't believe he's the reason her planet was destroyed (there's disagreements on if that is canon or not, and I think its pretty silly to blame every bad thing on the one guy.) I think it would be fun if Krystal (never being encased in a crystal because that plot was dumb) meets Fox on Sauria early on in the events of Star Fox Adventures. I mean it would have been GREAT if Krystal was his partner, instead of Tricky. Though in the drawings I included Tricky too, cuz why not? I like the dynamic of Krystal being kind towards all living creatures and Fox having to learn to keep up with that. Nature never seemed like his -thing- ya know. See I like the idea of their personalities crashing a lot at first. They are from different cultures and backgrounds, their understanding of Lylat history is different -- Fox being from Corneria means he views the war against Andross as a necessary thing, something Andross brought on himself and eventually paid for with his life, not to mention the death of his father weighs heavily on him forever. Krystal disagrees, being a firm believer that war is never the answer and the price of peace for some came at the cost of the death of others, including her own people. Like...DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH THEY WOULDN'T MIX, they are just too different and too caught up in their own life missions to really get the other's intentions. But then in spite of all that, they become friends. I think my ver. of Krystal while looking down on Fox somewhat for being a mercenary would also be intrigued by him. She would want to know how exactly this guy and his team defeated Andross, and from there know more stories about his life. Likewise, Fox being stuck on ground on Sauria with Krystal I think would open his eyes a bit more (lmao touch some grass for once) and they would at least bond with each other while also helping each other stay alive. I think they realize on their own that they each bring out good things about one another... at least at first.

In the games Krystal is pretty much assimilated into Star Fox and we don't really see how that happens or how she really feels about it. We just know she eventually breaks up with Fox and cuts ties with the rest of them, something that broke my heart when I was a kid, but I'm not super against or in disagreement with. Personally I just think her sort of beliefs and upbringing would have never lent itself well to the line of work Star Fox does, at least not so easily. It came off to me like she was a young woman caught up in a romance that felt right at first and then became bitter and unfulfilling once reality set in. And in my eyes, I think its more interesting if she becomes disillusioned with Star Fox and the Cornerian Defense Force because, put simply, Krystal isn't pro-military. And that's sad...but it's pretty raw, too. And I love my stupid children's game about furries in space being full of dark themes!! Nintendo already set the domino pieces up, I just feel like we never got to see them all come tumbling down. We were teased with possible ideas that the Cornerian army and General Pepper were morally grey and that Andross had good intentions mixed in with every totalitarian thing he did. Krystal even is the one to defend Andross in one scene in Command, which is fucking crazyyyyyyyy!!! but it doesn't GO ANYWHERE -tears hair out- But anyways, as you can see Fox X Krystal drives me insane. /pos There isn't really an ending I love or subscribe to the most from Star Fox Command. That game really just threw a lot of the fans for a loop with all the drama and "bad," not super fulfilling ends to beloved characters. Though, that being said, I lowkey like the Kursed/Krazoa arc for Krystal, I think it's like an interesting path for a character like her. Like yeah, turn this woman into a hardened butch bounty hunter!!!! why NOT!!! She'd get under his skin better than Wolf ever could!!! Plus, how often does a pairing go from friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-strangers?? Fox can't recognize the love of his life anymore because she's been fundamentally changed by the world HE introduced her to. Now they both gotta live with that with Sauria being nothing but a distant memory. It's tragic, it's messy, it can go in so many different directions and I just think these furries should yell at each other for my amusement. anyways that's all. :] i'm actually normal about them tee hee.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

Regardless of the ending i think Hori seriously needs a giant time to rest, which is why i personally don't want a sequel. At least, not one so soon. I still remember all the times i read him non-chalantly comment on stuff happening to him that actually sounded incredibly concerning, couple that with how mha was a WEEKLY series with the amount of quality it had (and he still has to take breaks). I saw his own comment on the series ending, and i think it will take a lot of him after such a big, hard part of his routine that lasted for 10 years to be revisited like that, and he still has a lot of work to do. I hope he'll be okay.

I agree 100%. I cannot fathom the amount of work it takes to produce a weekly serial and the kind of toll it takes on a person regardless of their talent. Burnout seems inevitable. I sincerely hope Hori can rest properly, without guilt or restlessness or depression or too many nagging responsibilities. I hope he can find some genuine joy and peace in things he didn’t have time for before.

If he gets a new project, whatever the content, my dream would be to have monthly chapters instead, and online, like SJ+. I imagine it’s still a lot of work because chapters tend to be longer, but the pacing could be so much smoother, more polished. The amount of forethought and depth that went into bnha despite its weekly schedule is astounding anyway, so imagine what he could do if he wasn’t being rushed.

But until that probably far off time, I don’t feel right about demanding more out of this manga or judging it too harshly. It’s just not fair, knowing how much he cared about it even while it sucked the life out of him. I want to focus on being happy he made it.

I’m even having a hard time deciding where I want to go with my first big fanfic project. Do I want to build on what’s there, or do I want to take one of my old theories/metas that didn’t pan out and run with it? Idk I feel weird because I don’t have the usual attitude of wanting to throw canon to the wind out of spite, but at the same time I’m aware it’s possible Hori didn’t end the story quite the way he wanted, either. I’m thinking about it nonstop and my brain is like a game of pinball. AUs are another subject for another time. Right now there are two wolves inside me, “canon compliant”and “canon divergent.” In any case, “fix-it fic” is too strong a word for how I feel. I’m just sad. I want to feed this story a nice bowl of homemade soup, wrap it up in warm blankets, kiss its forehead, and say, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

[ofallthingsnasty]

I absolutely love how you write doflamingo, it's so addicting! So if you're still doing the alphabet thing K, L & T please

Yandere Alphabet letters g, h and y for doflamingo

he's so fun, i'm glad you like it!! wacky torture king (to me)

tw.yandere, minors dni

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Oh my god, he’s insufferable. Three meters of entirely obnoxious, blood-boiling, cruel man. And he relishes in it. Nothing is sweeter than seeing you trying to fight the rage back down when he drapes himself over you and plucks your book from sweaty hands to simply throw it into a corner - that inappropriately short fuse of yours is hilarious to him. You’re in no position to fight him yet you still remain so prickly, still have the audacity to cling to your dignity. He’ll make a game out of catching you at the worst possible moments, preferably when you think you’re free from him for a teeny, tiny while and try to get cozy. If there's a way to drive you up a wall, he'll find it. Even if you’re good, if you have made uneasy peace with this whole… situation - he’ll still try to get a rise out of you sometimes. He’s also awfully grabby, always has a hand somewhere it really shouldn’t be - especially when his weird posse seems to be around all the damn time. Bid personal space and bodily autonomy goodbye - because love handles turn into stress balls, shoulders into his favorite place to tap-tap-tap his fingers on and he has no shame, no matter how peeved any other person in his presence might be. He also likes to haul you around like an accessory just because and even when it's entirely inappropriate. What is anyone going to do about it, anyway? Tell him off? You’re either with him or he isn’t coming, simple as that. It’s not like you’re going to spoil his business or tattle or do god-knows-what, he’s got you locked down like an award-winning show dog he’s intending to breed. You’re not going anywhere.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Oh, Dressrosa Doflamingo definitely has his fun with you. It’s not like he’ll degrade himself by mixing with the general populus but I think he’d find it entertaining to crawl into your humble abode once or twice to watch you sleep. (It’s really only something he tries out, just to see how it feels like - and to make it obvious that someone was in your home. It’ll make you feel unsafe in the very place that’s supposed to be your sanctum, will make you aware of someone trying to keep tabs on you - now that’s delicious, isn’t it?) In general, it’s all about toying with you. I wouldn’t call it courting (because he really isn’t doing that - he’s simply having some fun with you before snatching you up. There is no approaching, no courting, he doesn’t need that - because you don’t get a say in this.) He is going to make sure that you know that someone (maybe even him?) is stalking you, will send you weird gifts, notes, will leave you feeling watched until your skin crawls and you barely leave your house even though you aren’t even safe in there. 

It’s all about his entertainment. And terrorizing you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Tears? Really? He thought you were more fun than that. Where’s your fire? Fury? Passion? Fight a little for your pathetic little life, don’t just cry. When has crying ever won him a war? 

Frankly, he is disgusted. 

He can’t fucking stand it. You’re weak, of course he knows that - but instead of sniveling and getting snot all over his shirt, you should just submit. He doesn't expect greatness or strength or anything - you’re not supposed to be an underling, you’re supposed to be long-lasting entertainment - but he expects you to either fall in line the moment you realize he’s holding all the cards or to fight for your measly little existence. Crying is arguably the worst of all reactions to your predicament - it changes nothing and is entirely illogical (not to mention you’re committing the cardinal sin of being annoying). Submitting to him would better your situation tremendously, fighting back would at least give you the illusion of hope, of getting out of here and yes, it'd be incredibly funny to him. But sulking in some corner? Where is that going to get you exactly, pet? Stop it. He rarely uses his powers on you but when you’re moping around or spiraling, he’ll do it. Turns that frown upside down - makes you dance while you cry, scream, beg, completely lose it. The way he has you swaying, turning around yourself in endless circles while he laughs and hums some old song is going to be beyond jarring, will shake you out of near every break-down you have.

See? That’s better, isn't it? Lighten up a little, sweetheart. 

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 18th: Journaling | Twin Size Mattress - The Front Bottoms | Introspective a/n: eddie first-person pov, stream of consciousness, post-canon fix-it, canon-typical injuries and recovery, pining, pre-steddie. this one will get a second part the week of halloween! un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

October, 1986

It’s been awhile, huh? So many blank pages between March and now. It’s kinda weird because so much has happened— things I can’t even write because of the stupid fucking NDA— but blank pages are fitting because I don’t know what to write anyways. 

The hospital sucked. That’s probably obvious, especially when you’re innocent of something for once but everyone’s convinced you’re a murderer. Thank God for Wayne and Steve, pretty sure they would’ve accidentally pulled a plug or something before I woke up from the coma. I don’t have all the details, but I guess after Max woke up, Steve moved his cot into my room and struck up a pretty weird friendship with Wayne. Not sure how I feel about that yet, but he’s been around a lot more. Even now. Not sure how I feel about that yet, either. 

Our trailer was wrecked but the government gave us a new one for those NDA-related reasons. Being in Hawkins is still fucking rough, kinda feels like I’m drowning most of the time, but I got a queen sized bed now. That’s a plus. Be better if Steve someone shared it with me but that’s asking for too much, right? 

Survival’s a tricky thing when you make peace with the fact that you’re about to bite the dust. If I ever start writing songs again, I oughta save that line. But it is. I’m home now, the town’s rebuilding, the kids are back in school, and life moves on but what the fuck do I do with myself?

They gave me a diploma and shoved me out the door, which is great and all, but no one wants to hire the Freak Murderer. Trust me. I’ve tried. Wayne tried getting me in at the factory and was laughed damn near out the building. Robin and Steve tried getting me in at the video store but not even those two could convince that asshat, Keith. And selling is out now. That’s a given. 

So what do I do? Hell if I know. But at least I’ve got pen and paper, and a new guitar to replace Sweetheart (RIP). Steve said everyone pitched in but Dustin can’t keep his mouth shut, so I know that was all Steve… 

Shit. I’m writing his name a lot. That’s a bad sign. I should stop. 

So yeah, pen and paper, new guitar, I’ve made so many fucking mixtapes to pass the time. And at least I’m home in time for Halloween. I wonder if horror movies will be as much fun now that I’ve been the victim of a real life slasher flick. 

Guess I’ll find out.

[aprilsuzanne]

On my last blog, I wrote about my eating disorder at great length. I think it's time to do it again. If you don't like long text posts, feel free to skip this, but don't skim read it and reply because that's not nice.

TW if you need it, eating disorders, self harm, body dysmorphia.

----

People seem to think that eating disorders don't really apply to men. I spent my entire childhood listening to just about everyone passing judgement on other people's weight. As a boy, my apparent role models were all athletes, thin or muscular actors, skinny popstars and guys in music, and any husky person was either funny or tragic.

As I got older, I noticed these attitudes getting worse. Muscular men between acting jobs would stop cutting and starving their bodies, but would still look like peak physical condition but would be referred to as having a 'dad bod'.

Older still, I'd see people waggling their little fingers making jokes about small dicks, or laughing about people who cum to quick. People were too tall or not tall enough. Then they'd be too skinny if they were too fat. Then, laughs about baldness or their bodies being too hairy. It went on and on.

It melted my brain. I wanted to be whatever this idea shape was and deep down, I knew it wasn't possible, and I developed an immovable self loathing that I suspect I'll carry with me through my whole life.

I'd hear women getting similar criticisms, and the criticisms came equally from women and men, gay and straight, and of all races and creeds, and I think somewhere in my thoughts, I gave up trying to find a peaceful way of navigating this and began to purge every time I ate. I was playing a lot of team sports and would vomit before every game. I'd then go home, eat, and repeat. I became dangerously thin and people would tell me my body looked great.

I would pass out a lot through exhaustion and my eyes became dark. At some point I collapsed and hit my face on a shelf, then a radiator, and pretended to everyone that I'd just been in a fight.

After a short time thinking I'd fixed myself after scaring myself when I'd collapsed, it started again. I switched out bulimia for anorexia. I was now not eating at all. I remember hitting my hand with a spoon over and over when someone brought me some food to work, anxiety in overdrive as I hoped they wouldn't notice me not touching any of the food they gave me. That happened a lot and the back my hand was frequently purple with bruises.

I've kept a photo of a more recent period so I have something to check, in case I've dropped too much weight. This was me not that long ago, irresponsibly thin and I'd made myself very poorly. The skirt is cute though.

It was around this time that I'd collapsed again, this time in public. I was rushed to hospital with malnutrition and it was in the middle of lockdown so hospitals were swamped and everything was weird.

I was given a COVID test and while the nurses went to do my test, I sneaked out of the hospital because I didn't want them to tell me anything about how thin I was, even though they'd already clocked me. I walked home and collapsed three more times in the street, and twice more at home. I managed to get myself back to hospital eventually and spent the night under observation and was fed sugary gels and put on a drip to try and replace some of what my body had been missing for months.

I again discharged myself and ran away from the problem.

I was disgusted with myself. I was being irresponsible. I thought I looked enormous. I then made myself more depressed because I shouldn't talk about people's bodies like that. I loved people of all shapes and sizes and here I was, judging someone for being fat. I didn't eat or drink a single thing for two weeks after being in hospital. I was going mad. It was time to tell my friends what was going on, and it turned out a number of them had already worked it out.

One of the things I needed to fix was some of the people I sought advice from. I'd found people in secret who also had eating disorders and people who self harmed. It sounded like we were helping each other from the outside in, but the reality was that we were all enabling each other. Some call it trauma bonding. I call it unwell people egging each other on and even being competitive about it.

One girl said to me that my eating disorder wasn't as bad as hers. She gave me tips on how to act like I was getting better to other people. Saying you're trying is as good as actually trying, she added. It's all part of the performance.

I didn't want to be ill. I just wanted to not feel violently sick when I thought about my own body existing. I wanted to not be perceived at all, and to be left in darkened rooms, wasting away. While I spent all those nights, just lying there, I realised that this illness wasn't like other illnesses. Cancer wants to devour you. Broken bones want to heal. This eating disorder wanted me to stay alive but maximise the suffering in a prolonged bout of self harm. Me being dead was no use to my dysmorphia. I did just enough to stay alive, so I could maximise the suffering. It was like an endurance sport with no medal.

At some point, my name was put forward to appear on a news programme on national television. One of my supposed support network worked in TV and was asked if they knew anyone who had what had been rebranded as 'manorexia'. It's funny - even when showing concern, people still do stupid things like giving an illness that applies to anyone a ridiculous name. We don't call it blokeaemia do we?

After speaking to the genuinely respected and very nice journalist who I'd seen on television a lot, she was heavy handed in her questions. Things like "is it just vanity then?" is one that sticks in my memory. After 3 days of back and forth, the news story was dropped because a panda had given birth in a zoo somewhere. My sense of the absurd and gallows humour kicked in, mercifully. Men's eating disorders, relegated beneath a captive animal having a baby.

Another friend who was genuinely being well-meaning told me how brave I was, "going around telling everyone you have a woman's disease". I wasn't angry because I knew what they meant, but to someone more fragile, it could have gone horribly wrong. Another friend simply said "I don't want to ever talk about this - it's too upsetting."

I became aware of famous men talking about their eating disorders. A politician called John Prescott spoke of his and everyone laughed at it and made jokes on panel shows, based entirely on the fact that he wasn't thin enough. Everyone laughed at Hugh Jackman on talkshows when he spoke of the starvation and duress he put his body under to look a certain way for movies. Thin women were pointed at when they put an ounce of weight on. I heard women sniggering about other women saying "what does she look like in that dress?"

More recently, people would berate the 45th president of the United States for being "fat", rather than going after more pertinent things like his whole personality and terrible views. Fat, in this instance, was the ultimate sin, not being pro-fascist. I noticed how many larger men were clowning around at their own expense, and women would coo about them online. People like Jack Black - talented, good looking, charismatic - would be met with "I don't care that he's fat".

So where am I now? Mentally, the damage is done and I don't think I'll ever lose the will to harm myself. However, since my last collapse, I swore I'd never go there again. I rigidly eat three times a day. I've actively learned to enjoy the cooking process. It's been incredibly difficult, perhaps in part because I stubbornly refuse any professional help. I looked around for a psychiatrist who would help at one point, but every single one told me that they weren't taking men on.

Way back when, I started sharing photos of my body on Tumblr in a state of undress because I wanted to normalise how I looked. If I sandwiched myself between everyone else's nudes which I thought were beautiful, then I gave myself a chance to think the same of my own. It certainly helped. There's something about the kind of people this site attracts that celebrates a variety of people and I can be flooded with dopamine when my photos get complimented. They're compliments from people that sometimes get it, and that matters. Some people just think I'm being thirsty, and sometimes, they're absolutely correct.

My stomach has grown. There's fat bits on my back which I've never seen before. My neck got chunky where my jawline used to be razor sharp. At long last, I'm learning to love this. I love the softness of people's bodies, and it's taken me decades to realise that I'm just people too. I wear soft clothes that feel nice against my skin. I've collaborated on photos with wonderful people. While my dysmorphia is so bad that I doubt I'll ever find it easy to sexually pleasure myself, I've been shocked to find that people on here have actually had me feeling like a viable and sexy person! It's a completely new feeling to me and I'm trying to get better at taking compliments instead of pushing them away.

I've written about this before and at some length, but I feel it's important to do it again so it doesn't get lost. It might help someone. It might help people understand me better. It might help someone understand what their friend is going through. It might just be enough to offer an interesting perspective and nothing more.

I'm doing better than I've done in memory and it's weird and makes me feel vulnerable. I don't want to get complacent and writing this reminds me of how far I've come and not to let this terrible illness sneak up on me again. I've been through some horrendous emotional stress recently, and that's exactly the kind of time where a thing like this can reintroduce itself into my brain.

I'm doing okay though, genuinely. I can only write about these things when I'm in a good place. I hope you are too. If anyone ever needs to speak to me about anything like this, I can't promise I can fix you, but I can definitely empathise and I will root for you.

(please forgive any typos or garbled language in this - I wrote it in one take, off the cuff, without editing)

[unsolicited-hotd-opinions]

What is going on with Rhaenyra and Alicent? Why are they making these stupid decisions, that don't relate to the culture they live in, or their character development from Season 1?

I really really liked most of House of the Dragon Season 1, and a lot of that had to do with the story of Alicent and Rhaenyra, how their relationship deteriorated and what that situation had to say about women in this kind of world (some of which relates to our own world).

The two women's rivalry wasn't particularly interesting to me in the book (I also just didn't find any of the royals likeable enough to care much what happened to them). Making them ex-teenage besties added so much delicious heartbreak to the story.

The way they were pitted against each other (and how they each made the situation worse), the different ways they viewed and dealt with the patriarchal nature of Westeros, the role of a woman, purity culture, the fact that in any society so intensely focused on patrilineal descent and male primogeniture a women's sexuality HAS TO BE CONTROLLED. All this made for a fascinating drama for me.

The FEAR of how they could hurt each other further that was evident in several episodes also seemed like such an important part of season 1. Otto told Alicent that she couldn't trust Rhaenyra and that the princess would inevitably come for her children's lives, and that was a very reasonable concern, but it wasn't an absolutely unavoidable outcome. It seemed like a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that afterwards they continued pushing each other away, the bitterness and paranoia building until there was no turning back. This was also such an interesting way to look at the story, and made both of them sympathetic.

...But then we find out that neither of them had any sort of plan to weather the coming shit-storm that was obviously coming after Viserys died...That seems strange since Alicent was shown to have been paranoid for so long about the fate of her family on Rhaenyra's ascension. Alicent claimed Viserys barely coherent dying words was the only reason she wanted to put Aegon on the throne. I thought this was sort of an excuse at first (since 6 years ago she said that she wanted and expected Aegon to take the throne), but she was so wrapped up in the idea of being dutiful and well behaved person, that she wanted to convince herself and others that she had a good reason to stage a coup, not just fear and/or ambition.

But we then have the awkward talk in the Sept where upon hearing that she misunderstood Viserys' last words, Alicent seemed like she genuinely believed her own bullshit. That just seems so corny to me that it really was just a 'misunderstanding', when the writers had set up that she actually had every reason to want Aegon on the throne.

The whole Rhaenyra sneaking in to Kings Landing thing was totally stupid. Besides what I mentioned above it is very weird that either of them would be trying to make peace at this point when vengeance and retribution are such major aspects of their society. I like the characters being a bit more likable in the show, and having some consciousness about how awful their war is going to be for the people. I like that there was a desire in the beginning for peace from these two characters. But it doesn't make sense at this point. I want them to make realistic decisions, and realistic mistakes, for the society they live in.

And then Alicent just lets Rhaenyra leave!!!! That is an insane decision!!! If war is unavoidable the best thing to do is make it end quickly. And taking their rival Queen prisoner could lead to a much quicker win for the Greens.

I could go on about this but I really didn't even mean to write this much, and I have far too many thoughts bumping around in my head to form them all into complete sentences.

I just don't understand what Ryan Condal is trying to do anymore!