#This is the hill I'm going to die on apparently

[descendant-of-truth]

Netflix can try to say that Sonic Prime has multiple short seasons all it wants, but I know the truth in my heart of hearts that this was meant to be a single 24-episode season that airs weekly

[bereft-of-frogs]

ok I briefly broke my internet ban to continue writing essays in reddit comment sections trying to figure out people's logical leaps but I'm getting back on track, back offline for the rest of the weekend

but, one note before I go watch a movie or something: I'm going to be in so much fucking trouble if Indara really does end up being a Sith Lord lol

[luvsavos]

so not only does genki canonly exist in the reboot but it seems strongly implied that he and doc ketchum worked together at some point??? i do not like that concept At All!

[minervadashwood]

.

[snowballseal]

Hello! I love your writing sm!

If your requests are open may I rq mc taking care of a burned out or overwhelmed Rafayel? I feel like he's always there for mc but she doesn't get to return the favor often.

Maybe her figuring out how to make him relax and feel better after a particularly bad day/week. ty! <3

Taking care of a fishie

Rafayel X Reader

Summary: When you go to visit Rafayel during a storm, you realize something isn't quite right. He's upset, dealing with a storm of his own as he works, and you decide he needs to take a break. It's up to you to take care of him.

Word Count: 3892

Note: So..........this kind of took on it's own life. It got a little angstier than I'm sure you intended for in your request, anon, but it's still mostly just a lot of fluff and comfort. I really enjoyed writing it, though his dialogue takes time for me to work out. Still! I hope you like it!

Also, I will die on the hill of calling Rafayel "fishie". Sorry not sorry, I think it's so cute.

---

Stepping into the studio is like stepping into a storm. Instead of its usual light atmosphere, the air feels thick and heavy. You can almost feel the static tension crackling along your skin. An actual storm can be seen out the windows, creeping along the coast outside at a threatening pace, casting shadows that make the space feel cold and eerie.

“Rafayel?” You call out into the dimly lit front hall.

No response. All you can hear is the distant sound of harsh brush strokes on a canvas. 

Of course he’s working. The world could end and Rafayel would still be working. Though he doesn’t sound…happy about it. Concern slowly twines around your chest as you make your way deeper into the studio, towards the sound. The usual mess is somehow worse - fruits, paints, and brushes scattered everywhere, along with crinkled balls of paper and tape. You guess this storm was a tornado.

As you expect, you find Rafayel where he usually works. He’s deep into a painting, his brush moving ruthlessly across the canvas. His movements are jerky and unnatural, yet robotically precise. Almost…apathetic. 

Unease prickles under your skin.

It’s nothing like the evenings you’ve spent watching Rafayel paint, when his motions are slow and hypnotic, his focus always so intense but gentle. You could watch him for hours as he brings life to a painting, each brush stroke a breath into existence. This - this is nothing like that. This feels more like anger, bristling and hot, just like the colors slicing across the canvas. There’s no hint of the beautiful, dulcet tones of blue he loves to use. Instead, it’s almost a violent clash of fire and steel and blood. 

Your unease grows with each strike he adds.

Something is definitely wrong.

He’s so focused, Rafayel doesn’t even notice you coming up behind him, not until you curl your arms around his waist. The artist goes tense under your touch, brush freezing against the canvas.

“Hey, fishie,” you greet, voice impossibly soft, hesitant, “I think maybe it’s time to take a break…”

Oh, that’s a tempting thought for him. Rafayel’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to focus on the feeling of your body against his. Your touch is so warm and comforting, like being enveloped by the perfect heated blanket, drawing his attention to just how sore he feels. A bone-deep ache settles in his muscles, reminding him of the deep-set anger simmering in his blood. 

His jaw clenches as he levels the painting with a glare, “No time. I have to finish this.” 

You don’t even blink at the bite in his tone. It’s not meant for you.

“Raf, you look like you’re seconds away from stabbing the painting. And like you haven’t slept in days,” you note, scanning the bags under his ocean eyes. A frown flickers across his lips as he looks away. “You need a break and you know it. Come on.”

“This is just the way artists work,” he grumbles, waving his paintbrush dismissively, “There’s no such thing as time when it comes to inspiration. Unless there’s enough money, apparently.”

His comment makes you tilt your head, eyes narrowing. It’s not playful or simply dramatic like he usually talks. Instead, you hear a thin note of bitterness, as sharp as his wit. And it tells you all you need to know.

“Nope.” 

You click your tongue and snatch the paintbrush from his hands. Rafayel squawks, turning to you with an almost offended look as you drop it in a nearby can of paint. His lips part, and you can tell he’s getting ready to put up a fight, but you don’t even let him start, shooing him off the stool.

“Nope, nope, off you go. You’re going to take a break and a shower,” you insist, pushing him towards his room.

Rafayel gapes at you, and then tries to duck out and around your firm grip, “Cutie, I really can’t-”

“Nope, I’m not hearing it, Rafayel,” you chirp, not unkindly, and block his path when he whirls around. 

The man can be more stubborn than a mule sometimes, and it’s best to fight fire with fire. He plants his feet, crossing his arms over his chest with that exaggerated pout, the one that usually makes you give in to all his whims because you can’t deny such a cute, little fish. You hold your ground, though, raising a brow at him. It’s a stand-off. His stubbornness against your desire to take care of him. And you’re going to win.

After a few seconds, Rafayel scrunches his nose, glancing between you and his unfinished painting. If he really wanted to he could probably overpower you, if only for a second, and get back to his work. But the look you give him, eyes wide and earnest, a deep ocean of concern that threatens to pull him under, makes what little is left of his resolve crumble.

“I really need to finish it,” he tries again weakly.

“You need a break,” you respond decisively, “so we’re taking a break.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“I just-”

“Nope!”

The artist wilts like a kicked puppy. For a moment, though, you swear a flicker of relief passes through his tired eyes. Like he didn’t really want to keep working anyways. It makes your heart clench.

A little more gently this time, you turn Rafayel around and lead him to his bathroom. He doesn’t put up a fight this time, allowing you to leave him perched on the counter of the sink while you go about preparing the shower. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around, the only sound in the room coming from the water steadily hitting the shower’s glass walls, and the distant roll of thunder.

There aren’t many times you’ve witnessed Rafayel being quiet. He usually likes to chatter, no matter what you’re doing, whether it be about a painting, or something he saw on a trip to the city, or a story about Lumerians. This silence is unsettling. Another storm, on the brink of breaking. That feeling grips your chest, tight and cold, despite the warm steam curling around you, filling the room.

When you glance back at Rafayel, your eyes meet. He’s still watching you, an indecipherable look on his face. He looks somehow more exhausted, his skin ghostly pale, eyes dull with a look of…defeat. 

It’s wrong. Everything is wrong. And you want to make it right.

Stepping over to him, Rafayel spreads his knees a fraction wider so you can settle between them. One of your hands finds the line of his hip, the other resting against the soft curve of his cheek to draw him close. Rafayel lets out a stuttering breath. You touch him with such tenderness, such love, it makes his head swim, makes him feel like he’s drowning yet undeniably safe, all at once. Everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, surrounded by a soft haze of steam and the low light of his bathroom.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you murmur, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the sound of the shower, “but you know I care about you, right? I’m not trying to be mean to you, I’m just….”

Worried.

Rafayel softens. Of course you’d worry. You’re the only one that would for someone like him. His own personal angel, sent to drag him from the depths over and over and over again. Reaching up, he traces your brow almost reverently, easing the wrinkle between them.

When he talks, his voice is raspy and low, “What a fool I must be, making such a beautiful face look so concerned.”

“You’re not a fool,” you chide disapprovingly, “You’ve never been a fool, Rafayel. You’re just…a little self destructive at times, like we all are. But that’s why I’m here. I’m happy to be the one worrying about you, fishie. I’m happy to take care of you. If you’ll let me.”

Another emotion you don’t recognize flashes behind Rafayel’s eyes. He hums quietly, the tension slowly dripping from his shoulders, and turns to nuzzle into your palm. You inhale sharply, heart fluttering when his lips press against your skin, lingering yet hesitant. And when he looks back at you, there’s so much warmth, so much affection in his gaze, that you almost feel yourself melt.

“Please take good care of me then, miss bodyguard,” he murmurs, a ghost of that familiar smile on his lips, “ I leave my wellbeing in your capable hands.”

The heat that creeps up your cheeks matches the blush warming his ears. What a pair you are. 

“Then let’s get you in the shower,” you hum, voice a little shaky (though you’ll deny it), and card your fingers fondly through his messy hair. “I’ll get you some comfy clothes and make you some food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Mmm, am I that predictable?”

“Only to me.”

You lean up and press a chaste kiss against his cheek. As you pull away, though, Rafayel catches your chin, slotting his lips over yours. It's a slow and overwhelmingly gentle kiss, devotion bleeding with fondness, raw and vulnerable and filled with a yearning that makes you dizzy. You can barely catch your breath when you pull away, the heat in Rafayel’s gaze nearly making you toss out the rest of your plans for the night.

“Take a shower,” you whisper, breathless, quickly separating yourself from the tempting man in front of you.

You still catch a glimpse of his smirk as you dip past the door, though.

Closing it behind you, you steady yourself against the wall, taking a deep breath. The sounds of him shuffling inside, followed by the soft clink of his shower door closing, lets you know that he’s at least listened to your instructions. Your racing heart gets a slight reprieve, then.

Alright. 

Slapping your cheeks lightly, you bring your focus back to the present. Even if he seems a little more himself, there’s still a lot to do. Rafayel deserves the world, and you’re determined to give it to him. As much as you can at least. Starting with comfortable clothes and a good meal.

You duck into his closet, picking out a particularly soft looking pair of sweats and a light button up. Maybe some socks too, you think as you remember just how cold he felt. Rafayel usually prefers to go barefoot, but you pick a pair of thick socks, just in case he wants them. Everything gets laid out on his bed, ready for when he finishes his shower.

Next - food.

Digging through Rafayel’s fridge is a mostly fruitless effort. Well, not fruitless. In fact, there’s plenty of fruit, only fruit really. Amusement curls in your chest. You’ll have to take him grocery shopping tomorrow and maybe have a conversation about a balanced diet. Luckily, you find some pasta in the pantry, and the basics you need to make a decent sauce. Maybe you can cut up some of the fruit too and make a little snack board.

Plan devised in your head, you set about making it happen. 

You’re in the middle of finishing the sauce when Rafayel silently pads into the kitchen. He looks a little more lively, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity as he shuffles up behind you. Slowly curling his arms around your waist, he draws you back against his body so he can nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, breath tickling your skin.

You hum, one hand falling to rest over his, “I hope so. It’s nothing special, but it should help you feel better.”

“Anything these hands make can be special.” His fingers trace over your knuckles lovingly. “It just has to mean something to you. It’s only when it means nothing to you that a creation becomes insignificant.”

A part of you wonders if Rafayel realizes how transparent he is being. That, or you’ve just become so familiar with all his habits that you can just tell. To you, reading him is like reading your favorite book, and this is as obvious as a missing page.

But you don’t want to address it just yet. “Ready to eat?”

“Hmm, will you feed me?” He draws back to look at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

It takes everything in you to smother a smile. While you don’t often entertain Rafayel’s games, sometimes it’s nice to play along, if only to see him blush when you turn it on him. And today feels like one of those days. So you plaster on the most exaggerated, concerned look you can muster, flipping in his arms to cup his face.

“Do you need me to? Are you that tired?” You coo at him, satisfaction washing over you when his ears burn vermilion red. How cute. “Aw, my poor fishie. You’ve been working too hard, I knew it. Guess I’ll just have to tell Thomas that I’m holding you captive to make sure you get enough rest.”

“You’re teasing me,” Rafayel whines, the rest of his face flushing.

“Only partially,” you giggle, leaning up to peck his lips, “You always turn so red, it’s adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” he grumbles back, “I’m handsome. Some would even say dashingly so.”

“Of course.” Mirth dances in your eyes. “My dashing prince. So I guess that makes me the knight coming to your rescue.”

He turns somehow darker, gaze darting away, “Even a prince needs caring for sometimes…”

“Yes, they do,” your voice softens, and you press another kiss to his cheek, “Now come, my prince, let’s eat and then we’re going to lay down on the couch and watch a movie so you can relax, okay?”

Rafayel is surprisingly cooperative for the rest of the night. You do end up feeding him a few bites, teasingly wiping at his mouth just to watch him blush again. But with every tender touch, no matter how teasing, you can see him slowly start to relax. His smile becomes a little more genuine, what’s left of the tension in his shoulder melting away. And you love it. You love taking care of him, spoiling him, if only for the night.

By the time you’ve finished dinner and cleaned up, the storm has finally made its way over the studio. Rain drums against the windows as you lead him to the lounge, streaks of lightning filling the room with flashes of light. It’s just the two of you, isolated from the outside world, lost in the warmth of the coastal storm. No one’s going to bother you tonight.

Or so you thought.

You curl into the corner of the couch, holding your hand out for Rafayel, waiting. Just as he’s about to collapse onto you, to finally put the day behind him, his phone comes to life on the side table. Its ring pierces through the relative quiet of the studio, startling both of you. Thomas. Rafayel’s face immediately falls at the name, and he hesitates at the edge of the couch, so close but still so far. In the dim candlelight, you watch his eyes waver, glancing back at the doorway.

“Rafayel.”

They flicker back to you. A flash of lightning illuminates his face, and for an instant, you see dread stain his beautiful features, pleading and desperate. It breaks your heart. 

“It can wait, Rafayel,” you whisper, somehow feeling just as desperate. Desperate to take him away from whatever it is that’s making him feel like this. Desperate to let him know he can rest. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Just…stay. Please.”

He glances back at the phone. It vibrates against the marble table, over and over and over, and you wait with baited breath. Until it goes silent. Still, he doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, you reach forward. When your fingers tentatively intertwine with his, Rafayel takes a deep, uneven breath. And when you give his hand a gentle pull, he crumbles.

Rafayel lets you pull him onto the couch wordlessly. You make him lay down, head on your lap, while his arms curl tightly back around your waist. His grip is almost crushing, his fingers going pale as he wraps them in the back of your sweater, like you’ll disappear. Or like someone might try to tear him away.

Not that you would ever let that happen.

A heavy silence rests over the two of you. Not suffocating, but thick with unspoken words. What words, you’re not sure. They seem to rest at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t make sense of what you wish you could say, or even if you should say anything at all. It doesn’t quite feel right.

So you settle for waiting and start brushing your fingers through his unruly, damp curls, working out the tangles. Rafayel shivers at the sensation, the gentle tug at his roots, the pleasant tingle it leaves behind. He focuses on it, breath catching whenever your nails trace along the back of his neck. Desperate for another anchor point, his hands slip under your sweater to press against your skin. 

You gasp at his cold touch, movements wavering.

“Don’t stop,” Rafayel immediately pleads, voice cracking.

God, the things you would do for this man.

You continue without a word, and the artist hums, practically purrs. He’s remarkably like a cat, despite how much he hates the animals. Clingier, though. Much clingier. And you will never admit how much you love it.

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. Time never works quite the way it should when you’re with Rafayel. Seconds feel like days and days feel like seconds. His hair is dry. The rain is light, now tapping a quieter rhythm against the windows. The thunder sounds farther off. His chest rises so steadily, you almost wonder if Rafayel has fallen asleep.

Until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s a commission from the mayor.”

You blink. The words process slowly in your mind, a frown forming on your lips. He continues before you can say anything, though, and once he starts, it seems he can’t turn it off.

“Thomas accepted it without asking me. He said the money was too good to pass up, as if I don’t have enough already.” Rafayel’s voice bleeds with such pure vitriol, you’re almost taken aback. You’ve never heard him so…angry. “It’s for his nephew. You’d hate him. He’s no better than a wanderer, preying on helpless people for profit.”

Understanding washes over you.

No wonder he’s upset.

Rumors have spread like wildfire about the nephew of Linkon City’s mayor. Sexual assault allegations. Financial fraud. None of it has been proven in court, but that hardly means they’re not true. It just means he has the power to avoid the consequences.

“I told Thomas to refuse it, but he insisted business is business and he’d already taken the money. As if my art is just business and money. As if inspiration can be bought. Like I can be bought.”

“Rafayel…” You start, a lump forming in your throat.

“It’s like when they used to capture us.” His voice remains thick with bitterness, shaking as he talks. “Humans would pay such high prices for us Lumerians.  Just for entertainment, to show off their status and power. Dead or alive, it made no difference, we meant nothing to them. This painting represents the blood of my people, but to him, it will mean nothing.”

You’re not sure if an aether core can break, but you’re certain you feel something shatter in your chest. It hurts. Seeing Rafayel like this, feeling him shake in your arms, hurts. You’ve never seen him so fragile, so trapped.

And you hate it.

“Rafayel, listen to me.” 

You touch his chin, drawing his burning gaze up to you. He looks torn between tears and brutality. The man who’s held you through your worst nights, and the one who can take life as easily as he creates beauty. Always torn in two and living under the weight of expectation. You can’t stand it.

“You have a choice here,” you murmur, tone insistent, “This is your work. It’s the way you speak to the world. You don’t have to share it with people who don’t deserve it. If this is the hill you want to stand on, then I’ll stand with you, and I’ll make sure you always have the freedom to choose.” A weak smile pulls at your lips. “I wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard or partner if I couldn’t do that for you.”

Rafayel’s brow furrows, sharp and conflicted, “But Thomas-”

“-Is a smart guy,” you chirp, “And you pay him well. I’m sure he just got swept away at the business prospects. If we sit down with him and explain the best we can, I bet he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just find a…creative way to fix this deal. Like delivering a blank canvas with your signature. We can say it’s a commentary on the emptiness of human gratification or something”

That gets the artist to snort despite himself.

“Or we could take it a step further - deliver an empty frame. They’d probably force Thomas to return the money at that point.”

His snort turns into a low chuckle. You grin, ruffling his hair.

“Humans may suck, but we’re good at being petty and coming up with ideas for revenge, huh?”

“Mmm, not all humans are so bad,” Rafayel hums, eyes dancing with amusement as he looks up at you. “I know a hunter who never fails to remind me how good some can be. She’s bold and selfless, not to mention compassionate, even to cats. The world is brighter when she smiles, and her touch chases away even the worst of storms.”

Thunder rolls through the house, perfectly timed, and you giggle when Rafayel frowns.

“Well, maybe not real storms. Though I’m sure she would try.”

“For you, I would do anything,” you promise and he softens even more.

“I know, cutie.” Rafayel catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He then moves to start getting up. “And knowing that gives me the strength to finish what I need to do. You’ve inspired me.”

“Nope.” The artist grunts as you suddenly wrap yourself around him like a koala, dragging him right back down onto the couch. You flip the two of you over, so you’re laying on top of him, chin propped on his chest. Stuck once again. “You agreed to listen to me about your health today. And now that we’ve talked about it, you’re going to actually rest. Whatever you have to do can wait until tomorrow, okay?”

“Ah, my apologies,” he says, voice lilting with hardly concealed laughter. “It seems I forgot about our arrangement.”

“Uh-huh. I’m in charge tonight, and that means we are going to cuddle and watch a movie, and then you are going to sleep. For the whole night. Understood?” You try to speak with an authoritative tone, but it also breaks with laughter.

“Of course.” Rafayel leans forward, and seels your deal with a brief, but ardent kiss. It leaves your heart fluttering as he draws back to whisper, “Thank you for taking care of me, my treasure.”

“Anytime, fishie.”

---

This ended up being sooooo long! I wanted to get the atmosphere and stuff just right, and then poof, nearly 4000 words. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed a bit of Rafayel angst/comfort.

[beansprean]

E11 Ideas in no particular order:

Simon the Devious rug pull/reveal

Simon the Devious was behind the documentary all along. He is Greg the camera guy. The documentary was produced by the Daltry Brothers Production Company with thanks to the Toby Daltry Memorial Film Foundation

Outrageous nandermo flirting throughout

Nandermo secret off-camera relationship (we already have canon nandermo QPR I just wanna remind everyone Guillermo is officially in the polycule)

We find out via tv news in the background that Jordan got hit with that sign Nandor threw and he died (no one cares bc they are doing more interesting things)

Nandermo get served by the local Staten Island Chapter of Vampire Vigilantes for operating as superheroes without a permit

"Clip show" where they all watch the documentary

"Clip show" where they all watch the documentary and its full of 'deleted' scenes that we have never seen before (leading to revealed secrets and arguments and confessions and-)

1 hour special that is literally the documentary (with a special guest narrator)

The Guide x Miguel I am so serious

The entire episode is just a backdoor pilot for a spinoff series (seanmaine sitcom?) (life as cravensworth's robinson's monster?)

The house blows up/is destroyed somehow

Colin, as part of the house based on my own personal EV lore, dies or nearly dies bc of this. They get a new house and bury him there and then he pops back up babystyled and the monster has to be his dad now

The monster sacrifices himself to save his dads (noooo!!!!!!!!)

Last scene all the vampires are going into the fancy room to have an orgy and Nandor pokes his head out to say 'arent you coming Guillermo?' and he grins and shrugs at the camera and goes in and thats how it ends

Jenna was there The Whole Time (please god it would be so funny i will die on this hill)

Guillermo dies and Nandor has to turn him anyway

Guillermo dies and Nandor tries to turn him but apparently thats how energy vamps are made whoopsie

Laszlo says "Guillermo" correctly

Red carpet premiere of the documentary with all the fan favorite characters returning as guests

(maybe even including the two Freddies bc it would be very funny. Nandor getting jealous like excuse me step away from Guillermo you had your chance and Freddie is like oh sorry no I'm the other Freddie and Nandor is like o rly hello and Guillermo is like exCUSE ME STEP AWA-)

Red carpet premiere of the documentary with all the fan favorite characters returning as guests that turns out to be a trap set by the Vampiric Council and they all have to fight their way out of that shit again

Red carpet premiere of the documentary that turns out to be a trap set by Batdor and Robllermo to murder a bunch of rich people

Nadja starts an mlm foot pic empire with the monster as her bouncer (dressed in a cute little pimp suit and feathered hat)

Somehow, the Witch's Skin Hat has returned

Guillermo returns to his pre-corporate color palette (greens and browns and reds and patterns pls!!) but its well fitted and non shitty sweaters

All the ghosts of all the people they ever killed/buried at the house rise up and attack (including lisa's severed head), and this somehow leads to Dolly finishing her unfinished business and saying goodbye

The Guide is proud and relieved to see that Nandor is no longer obsessed with her and they are buddies now

She insinuates that he found what he was looking for (in Guillermo). sometimes you hurt every woman in your life because your soulmate is a man

Sean dies (noooooo!!!!!!!!)

Sean gets turned into a vampire

Sean gets turned into a vampire and immediately breaks every rule and also turns Charmaine and somehow manages to take over the entire eastern seaboard and overthrow Tilda Swinton as supreme leader of the Vampiric Council

MAJOR timeskip, like multiple years or even decades. 10 year retrospective post-documentary release?

They recreate the supernatural finale beat for beat, complete with colin in a very bad wig and two covers of "you're dead" back to back to fill up the runtime

Vampire society rises up against the house after the documentary is released and they all die

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 | 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠

　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x actress!reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Chris have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for years, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: Matt's version.

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tagged: ynsinstagram , strangerthingstv

liked by ynsinstagram, sturniolotriplets and 12,748,207 others

netflix ALIVE. BROKEN. FINAL SEASON. #StrangerThings5 soon, only on Netflix.

view all 853,472 comments

fallontonight OMG OMG OMG OMG

ynfan5 WHEN????? IT'S BEEN 2 YEARS 😭

ynfan3 if they kill Y/N, I'll die too

stfan7 we NEED bts pics right now!!!

ynsinstagram 📼

ynfan2 WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???

ynfan9 you traumatized us after season 4

stfan4 ready to run into a brick wall

ynfan2 alexa play running up that hill by kate bush

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liked by matthew.sturniolo, madisonbeer and 392,273 others

christophersturniolo where's my Nancy at?

view all 10,739 comments

sturniolofan1 I VOLUNTEER

sturniolofan4 OMG????

sturniolofan8 apparently my name is Nancy now

ynandsturniolofan2 NETFLIX COME HERE ‼️

matthew.sturniolo guess you've got the wrong character buddy

sturniolofan6 what's that supposed to mean 😭

ynandsturniolofan3 HAPPY HALLOWEEN

madisonbeer can I be Robin?

nicolassturniolo 📼

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(for the sake of it, pretend this is chris 😭)

liked by sturniolofan6, ynfan4 and 1,028,299 others

people YouTuber Christopher Sturniolo was seen on the set of Stranger Things early today, in Atlanta. Unknown sources stated that he was about to enter the trailer of actress Y/N Y/L/N, holding two containers with food and calling her "baby".

view all 839,744 comments

ynfan6 who?

ynfan3 oh no, here we go again

sturniolofan4 what the ACTUAL FUCK?????

ynandsturniolofan7 OMG MATT'S COMMENT ON CHRIS POST

sturniolofan5 it all makes sense now

ynfan9 he's so out of her league

sturniolofan2 girl stfu

ynfan12 they're not even dating, what're you saying

ynfun5 why is he kinda

sturniolofan0 hot? yeah, we know

ynandsturniolofan1 now that would be my dream couple right there

sturniolofan17 NO WAY he went from LA to Atlanta only to see her filming 😩 shut up I love them already 🙌🏻

ynfan0 wait bc they would look so cute together 😞

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tagged: milliebobbybrown , djotime , calebmclaughlin , gatenm123

liked by nicolassturniolo, haileybieber and 4,082,299 others

ynsinstagram was attacked by a demogorgon and his crew for the tenth time, does that mean I'm tough?

view all 946,732 comments

ynandsturniolofan4 the pic of steve with the bat from 1st season while filming the 5th 🧐

sturniolofan3 IKR??? I'm going insane rn with all those theories

ynfan3 the most stunning person ON EARTH

ynfan9 I need to know who she's looking at on the 5th pic with THAT look

stfan2 time to rebinge all 4 seasons for the 10th time

milliebobbybrown Y/N tough girl era

ynsinstagram 🤟🏻💪🏻

calebmclaughlin when I grow up I want to fly like you

christophersturniolo the toughest

(this comment was deleted)

sturnioloandynfan5 ANYBODY ELSE SAW CHRIS COMMENT TOO????

ynfan1 I DID AND OMG???? what's happening 😭

ynandsturniolofan3 I'M GONNA COLAPSW

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liked by djotime, matthew.sturniolo and 528,369 others

christophersturniolo let's exchange the experience ✨️🕹📼

view all 374,483 comments

stfan3 is that the headphones Y/N used on 4th season?

ynfan8 oh, hey joe, strange seeing you around here 🤡

sturniolofan6 isn't he Steve on ST?

ynfan8 yeah 😭

sturniolofan7 FAMILY VIDEO????

sturnioloandynfan3 wtf are you doing at Steve's and Robin's work? 🧐

nicolassturniolo kate bush at its peak

sturniolofan0 THE MOST HANDSOME ‼️

ynfan12 the cassete... anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?

sturniolofan4 yeah...

ynfan16 totally

sturnioloandynfan18 my heart is going insane right now

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liked by christophersturniolo, milliebobbybrown and 4,498,699 others

ynsinstagram red converse is the new hype, madmax called it

view all 1,838,713 comments

ynfan6 no fucking way

stfan5 soft launch! soft launch! soft launch!

sturniolofan14 I'm in shock

sturniolofan13 chris got a girlfriend and she's the most angelic girl in the world 😭

ynfan5 WE LOST HER 😞

milliebobbybrown your taste in clothes is awful

ynandsturniolofan8 at least her taste in guys is better

nattyiceofficial cuties 🩷

ynsinstagram I love you natty!

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tagged: ynsinstagram

liked by ynsinstagram, sturniolotriplets and 1,738,699 others

christophersturniolo found my Nancy guys!

view all 838,713 comments

ynfan2 oh my god

sturniolofan6 NO WAY CHRIS GOT A GIRL FR

sturniolofan9 she's so fucking pretty

ynfan4 how did he do it?

matthew.sturniolo simp simp simp

christophersturniolo you would be the same if you bagged a girl like mine

ynfan0 A GIRL LIKE MINE SMOASMXJX

sturniolofan5 THIS IS TOO CUTE STOP

ynfan0 the rizz is insane

ynfan13 they're both so fucking lucky omh

nicolassturniolo FINALLY 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻

sturniolofan3 I just know nick was dying to let this information out

josephquinn so happy for you two!!

dacremontgomery take care of my little sister, man

christophersturniolo always

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tagged: ynsinstagram , christophersturniolo

liked by ynsinstagram, christophersturniolo and 7,498,699 others

enews During the interview "Y/N Y/L/N on Max Mayfield's Journey | Stranger Things | Netflix", Y/N commented on her romantic relationship with YouTuber Christopher Sturniolo, "... we've been together for two years, I met him on the street in Los Angeles when Nick (Nicolas Sturniolo, Christopher brother) came to ask for a picture and I immediately recognized them, I mean, who don't know the Sturniolo Triplets, right?", "... he makes me the happiest I've ever been. Being a girl who grew up in the spotlight, he makes me feel normal."

If you want to know more about Y/N, her role as Max Mayfield, and her relationship, check the link in our bio.

view all 3,838,713 comments

ynfan4 she's the cutest, omg

sturniolofan8 I want what these bitches have

ynfan0 she is glowing

sturnioloandynfan2 she's so in love 🥹

sturniolofan5 he is too! have you seen the triplets last video?

ynfan12 he can't stop talking about her 😭

christophersturniolo ❤️

ynsinstagram 🩷

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taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @delilahsversion @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zayyluvz

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[avelera]

Re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier and First Avenger (in that order lol) and hey guys

Remember that time Steve woke up in New York City 70 years later and panicked, thinking he was in HYDRA hands and haha, actually it turns out, he kind of was??

Also remember that bit where he found out in the most deadpan way possible (thanks Nick) that everyone he had ever known and loved was dead or aged to to the point of death in the blink of an eye, and no one ever actually like, gave him a moment's sympathy for the fact his entire world ended in a split-second of self-sacrifice that ended up just being one battle in a war that never ended?

Remember when he found out that the only person left who loved him, Peggy, only occasionally remembered him in moments of lucidity haha and then it turned out that the only other person who still lived and who loved him, Bucky, also only remembered him in moment's of lucidity?? Good times, good fucking times, I'm an emotional wreck about it

And one last thing, because I will never ever fucking ever let this grudge go, remember that time Tony fucking Stark who I mostly love but in the context of Steve Rogers specifically I want to tear him to shreds, decided to have beef with a literal traumatized 20-something year old war veteran whose entire world just dissolved into nothing in the 70 years he was on ice, and Tony fucking Stark decided to pick a fight with this guy and rag on him 24/7, despite being in his 40s himself and completely comfortable, stable, and with insane levels of wealth and privilege, because his fucking dad who has been dead for decades apparently loved this guy more, something that would have bewildered Steve who like, barely knew Howard outside of work, and that Steve had fucking nothing to do with Howard's neglect of his son because it all happened while he was unconscious?

Don't even get me started on Civil War, we will be here all day in how these supposedly equal sides weren't even slightly equal in morality or logic at all, but I will die on the hill of Tony fucking Stark was being a Grade A fucking asshole for his stupid man-child fight he picked with Steve Rogers when you actually objectively view Steve's life story as a human being instead of a symbol that he was literally forced to be

Whew. Ok. I'm ok now.

...

AND ANOTHER THING...!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolates vs Aliens

Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!

A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??

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"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.

"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.

And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.

Just a tad...

"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.

"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.

"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.

Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."

"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.

Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".

He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)

"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.

"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.

"Eddie." Venom's voice said.

"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.

His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.

You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.

"Oh." Eddie mumbled.

He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.

"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.

'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.

"No, Eddie. Wait."

"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.

You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.

Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.

Which... brought up the question.

"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."

"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.

"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.

You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"

"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.

"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.

"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"

"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.

Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.

"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.

"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.

"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.

"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"

"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.

Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...

"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."

Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"

Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"

"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.

"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"

Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.

"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."

"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.

"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."

Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"

"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"

Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.

"How uh, far along are you?"

"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."

"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"

"Yes!" You laugh.

Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"

Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.

Nope. Not at all.

You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.

"Uh...."

Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"

"Weak." Venom mocked.

"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.

"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"

Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.

"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.

"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.

"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."

The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.

"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.

"Pff, moron."

'Parasite.'

"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"

"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."

"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.

"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"

Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.

"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"

Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.

Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.

"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.

"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.

Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.

"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.

You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.

That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.

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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.

You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.

Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.

Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.

Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.

Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.

Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.

But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...

He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!

When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.

He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.

A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!

But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.

And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.

Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...

And saw him.

Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.

As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.

Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"

You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.

"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.

You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.

That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.

He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.

"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"

You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.

You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.

You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.

By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.

You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.

But then you remembered...

The big guy.

You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.

But the only person you ever told that to was...

You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.

"How do you know..." You breathed.

His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.

"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"

You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.

So, you nodded.

"Okay."

You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.

But it's not just any man.

It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.

"You--!"

"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.

You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"

"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.

You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.

"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"

You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.

"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.

You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.

"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.

"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"

"You were worried, too!"

"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"

Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.

Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.

You took it better than he expected. Way better.

"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.

"...Eddie." you said slowly.

"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.

"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."

"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.

"Well, yeah, and--"

"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.

In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.

Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."

You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.

"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.

"Claimed me." You repeated.

"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."

"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."

"Venom!" Eddie snapped.

"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--

And now... was he saying...

"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.

"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"

The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?

Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.

"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."

"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.

Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"

You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.

"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"

"Oh, my god, that does not count--"

"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.

"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.

The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.

"Okay." You said.

All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.

"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.

Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.

Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.

When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.

But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.

"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."

"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."

"What?!" You sputter.

"You're having a little girl, by the way."

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.

Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.

Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.

He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.

Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.

Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.

The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.

Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.

Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?

Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!

How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!

This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...

But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.

But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!

One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.

Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.

Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.

"The baby is a girl." He said.

"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.

"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."

"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.

"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"

You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...

Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.

"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."

"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."

You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.

Yeah...

Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.

[colorfullyminded]

TLDR

Okay I cannot believe I'm about to go off like this, but this has been bothering me for awhile, and it's only making me more spiteful. I have been enjoying the influx of Billford art lately. Amazing, great wonderful. What I have Not been enjoying, is the absolute vitriol the Billdip fans have been getting since the influx of TBOB. I was a billdip shipper for awhile. Hell I was a billdip shipper when I was a Parapines shipper-- I liked shipping Dipper with boys. I was also like 14 or 15 at the time. Obviously, if you follow me now, you'll probably notice what my main ship for Dipper is. I grew out of Billdip, and moved on to Pinescone. I have been shipping Pinescone for 10 years. However, not once did I go around saying "Lol, glad I matured and became a better person and shipped something healthier", nor did I post in the billdip tag, condeming people for a fictional ship! And saying mine was better because it was less problematic.

"I'm really glad people stopped shipping Bill and Dipper together. Bill is a 1000 year old triangle demon, and Dipper is 13--" Stop. Repeat what you just said.

"Bill is 1000 year old triangle--"

Repeat that last word to me. "....triangle?" TRIANGLE! I'm sorry what?! This ship is already completely wild enough. You're getting mad at this fictional age gap-- AND BILL IS A FUCKING SHAPE! A FUCKING SHAPE! This ship was weird from the moment GO! And Billford isn't any better. IT'S STILL A SHIP WITH A FUCKING SHAPE! And you're going to sit on your high horse and look down on the Billdip community. On top of it-- they have an age gap too! Bill is still thousands of years old or whatever-- however long it's been, who knows? And Ford was in his 20s or so when he met Bill. That's still a huge, ridiculous age gap-- that Bill could easily use and manipulate; which he did....and then also caught feelings and became a sad ex, but that's beside the point~ Both of these ships are still insane. And again, the bigger thing I think people are just ignoring about these ships--is that Bill is a TRIANGLE! THREE LINES CONNECTED TOGETHER! And this is the hill you're going to die on? ...Cause apparently it's mine. First of all-- as many people pointed out-- Ford Pines did not exist until the second half of the final season. People couldn't ship Fordbill because there wasn't any Ford to introduce.

"Well, even before Ford, I never shipped Billdip! I always disliked it." ...Okay, that's totally fine. Not everyone needs to like or agree on the same ship. Lord knows there's probably people who don't really care for Pinescone either. There's a lot of popular ships that I can't stand. But I'm don't go into a ship tag I don't like, screaming to a void for self validation. I don't go around mocking other people for ships that they had in 2014-- or even still today! It doesn't matter! I did that when I was a kid-- and then realized that was rude, and it was better to just ignore the ships I didn't like and enjoy the ones that made me happy. And grow a community of kind, like minded friends. And listen, I am all for safe spaces and being able to block things that make you uncomfortable. I am not saying people who find the BillDip ship uncomfortable to be idiots or babies or overly sensitive-- or anything like that. I think if something makes you uncomfortable, that is okay and I think it's perfectly fine to blacklist a tag that you don't want to see. I also think it's imperative that people tag things as accurately as they can so people looking at your work can know if one of your pieces has a thing that they don't like-- and therefore can avoid. What I don't appreciate is the fanhate for this ship that is sprouting up like weeds. You can not like something, you can be disgusted by it (I have my Gravity Falls ships I can not stand, nor do I feel comfortable with), but attacking real people for a FICTIONAL SHIP-- two characters who are drawings on a piece of paper and can not be affected mentally, physically or emotionally by fanwork; who still retain the same shape after everything we put them through-- to the point that you send death threats, or threaten to Doxx, or just harass relentlessly, I have always found that more childish and disgusting. You are causing real world pain to people. Me fucking up Dipper Pines is not going to do anything to him-- because he doesn't actually exist. He's a cartoon character. I could squash him and stretch him in Wonka's taffy machine--- I could throw him mock speed at a wall and watch him explode on impact-- but he still exists. He's not dead; I can pick him up and dust him off, and If I wanted-- I could decide that eh, 'Not a scratch on him'. And I'd be right. Because he is a cartoon character, and I am just a fangirl. I can not change anything about him-- I have no ability to make anything I headcanon canon. And even if I was the original artist-- it doesn't change the fact that Dipper would still be nothing more than a creation. A construct of shapes; he can not be hurt or traumatized in a way that leads to real life consequences-- because he is not real. I am not a cartoon character. My friends are not cartoon characters. Artist and Writers who stay in their lane...are not cartoon characters. If you hurt us...it will linger. It will leave a scar. If you can not tell the difference between Fiction and Reality, then I think maybe media might be too much to handle-- and I think you need to really reevaluate yourself.

And just to vent some other things that i keep seeing that are frustrating: You can't claim the twins are only 13-- and then on August 31st go "Happy 20-something Birthday Mabel and Dipper!" And then proceed to drop a picture of them as adults. Well which is it? Do they age or not? Because Gravity Falls showed them canonically aging. If you think the twins age-- then you can't suddenly turn around and go, 'no you can't ship them-- Dipper is a child!' but you drew him as an adult. So sorry, it looks like you can't draw the twins grown up anymore. You claimed they're 13, so better draw them 13 forever--. Aged up stories and works exist for a reason, especially for a fan who grew up on the series. The characters might have grown up alongside them. It's not unlikely for a person to ship Billdip when Dipper is much older.

And on that note, for people who are like 'well older billdip is fine-- it's just people shipping him during the show that deserve to die.' Okay... and like I said, this rant is coming from a recent influx of Billford shippers spitting on Billdip shippers. You know? The TOXIC Old Man Yaoi!

You're still shipping something that is problematic. You are still shipping something twisted and wrong. And I am not judging you. I am here for this divorced arc. I am thriving. But you can't just pick and choose what is and isn't okay. And let me first off explain; if there is something that personally triggers you about a toxic ship, and you want to avoid that-- again, perfectly understandable. Perfectly reasonable. You are the makers of your content space. And I am not judging anyone for that. I want people to be safe. I want people to have a good time in fandom spaces. I want people to not have to deal with the things that upset them or frighten them, or disgust them. But you can not say one is fine, and one is not. They're both bad! They're both toxic. In real life, these ships would both be charged with serious crimes! And yes, there are some crimes that are worse than others, and if you asked me what I thought was more problematic-- I'd say Billdip-- but both of these ships are extreme, and severe in their problematic content. You are still consuming problematic content. If it's a personal thing, that's fine; avoid it. But don't sit there throwing stones from your glass house.

[moghedien]

I know that Gortash being introduced as a "handsome young man" is like a joke we like to make because he is clearly not young and I might be a dyke but I'm not sure anyone actually into him would die on the hill of him being conventionally handsome either. but do we know if that was all intentional or what because I never see people talk about how the Chosen are introduced there outside of joking about it

like I'm genuinely unsure if its a side affect of Larian just saying whatever and not going back and changing with how that scene goes later, because its not just Gortash that is described in a way that seems misleading. Ketheric is also introduced as an elf when he is a half-elf. and based on how literally everything else in the game goes, elf vs half elf seems to be a distinction anyone on Faerun just inherently knows and would note, to the point that the only person who has to be corrected on the difference is a literal alien from space who hasn't met either before (Lae'zel). Not to mention the fact that Ketheric has a beard which is a very clear indication of him being a half elf, yet in that moment he's called an elf

and I want to know if this has been just like a confirmed oversight or not that maybe wasn't fixed once character designs were finalized, because I honestly want it to NOT be that. I want these questionable descriptors to be there on purpose because its actually so much more interesting. because we have to remember that these descriptions came from the Absolute, which they are in control of

like if the Absolute presents Ketheric as an elf and Gortash as a handsome young man, its so much more interesting because it means that they programmed that into her to make that be how their mind controlled cultists see them. Like Gortash wants to be this young and handsome charismatic leader, but regardless of how he looks, we know the guy ain't as young as he wants to be. Considering he sold Karlach to Zarial like a decade ago and had been working before even then for who knows how long, he might be comparable younger than Ketheric, but he's not gonna be super young. not enough to justify that being how he's described and he doesn't look it either. Handsome.....I'll keep my mouth shut.

but Ketheric being described as an elf when he very clearly is a half is more interesting to me because when we see imagery of Ketheric before he turned Sharran, he looks much more elven in features. He is clean shaven and very like stereotypical elf regardless that he isn't a full elf. and I just find it very interesting that it almost seems like this version of Ketheric he wants his adoring cultists to see him as

and its just so interesting to me that, if this was an intentional thing in the game, that apparently Gortash and Ketheric both programmed the Absolute with very specific things they wanted people to see them as when they're introduced to them. like they want to be these false versions of themselves so bad they have people who would follow them regardless brainwashed into thinking of them like that.

Idk about Orin, I don't remember what the Absolute says about her in that moment but I believe it, its true

[chvoswxtch]

Kind of a romcom/action request - do you think you could rewrite or give us your take on the scene where Frank ties Amy to the bed? It’s just always bothered me so much. She’s a teen girl living on the streets, and franks not a moron. He’d know exactly the implication and why she’s scared shitless and I refuse to think he’d be smug or laughing about it, or as callous as he was

i'm really glad you brought this up bc I always thought it was SO out of character for frank, but I never saw anyone else mention it?? like he literally grabs her and throws her on the bed, comes at her with zip ties and duct tape, and acts like a complete asshole?? this girl was literally just attacked, watched this big scary guy rip through a group of professional hitmen like they were nothing, and now she's alone in a motel with him, of course she's freaked the fuck out. and we all know what was going through her head when he forced her on the bed and brought out the zip ties

a lot of things about season 2 pissed me off but this right here is something I will always get heated about bc frank 'girl dad' castle would fucking never and I will die on that hill

so i'm gonna fix it bc apparently I have to do everything around here

headcannon below the cut

what a girl wants starring frank castle & amy bendix

I had to rewatch this scene to refresh my memory and it pissed me off all over again bc out of context it looks so bad but even in context it looks awful

frank "locked the front door of the pawn shop & grabbed a bat bc the guy said he had an inappropriate video of a girl that was barely 12" castle?? francis david "nearly killed the guy who took inappropriate photos of underage girls literally like a few episodes after this" castiglione??? that frank is tying a young girl up to a bed and duct taping her mouth shut???? y'all got me fucked up try again

first of all, she literally helped him pull a bullet out of his ass cheek like thirty seconds before all this. if that's not trauma bonding, I don't know what is

but even before they got to the motel, when they were in the van, they were already bantering like a grumpy dad on a roadtrip with his angsty teenage daughter, like c'mon. and amy had so many opportunities to run if she wanted to. she could've told the clerk at the motel what had happened, or she literally could've ran for it. frank was bleeding out, he was in no shape to chase her down. but he protected her when he didn't have to so I think she felt somewhat safe with him, enough to get the room with him and help him stitch up his ass

AND HE LITERALLY SAYS IN THE NEXT SCENE THEY CAME AFTER A LITTLE GIRL SO I HAD TO GET INVOLVED. HE CALLS HER A LITTLE GIRL !!! okay i'm done i'm not so let's get into what should've happened

so again, obviously she's freaked the fuck out, a bunch of people just tried to murder her, and this grumpy asshole showed up and saved her, but she doesn't know why, or what he wants. if it were me, i'd be suspicious. like okay, you saved me from them, but what do you want?

all frank had to do was talk to her. yes, amy is a handful, but she's literally a kid (I don't know if we ever get her actual age, I think she says several times she's 16, but when I look it up it says between 16-20, so either way she's a young girl) and she doesn't know frank. she's spent her whole life on her own looking out for herself, and she just witnessed a bunch of her friends getting murdered while she hid under a bed, so of course she's not gonna trust this strange scary dude right off the bat

I think if frank had made his intentions clear, it would've gone differently, bc that entire scene is so out of place compared to the rest of the episode and how they interact with each other. like frank involves himself bc she's a kid, and then beth gets hurt in the process, and frank being the vengeful man he is obviously wants to take every single person out involved from top to bottom (just like he did with the kitchen irish, dogs of hell, and mexican cartel. this man does not leave loose ends. everyone gets punished)

so if he had been like hey, fuck those guys for going after a young girl, but also my girl got hurt in the process, so help me out here. help me find the dickheads responsible so that one, I can keep them from coming after you again, but two and most importantly, I can get my revenge for what they did to my woman. I feel like amy would've been like okay he's doing all this for the woman we dropped off at the hospital that he clearly cares about, which means he isn't secretly plotting against me and isn't just another person trying to kill me or steal what I have

frank clearly sees some of his daughter in amy, or at least he sees a glimpse of what lisa could've been if she would've been able to grow up. like there's a lot of moments during season 2 it's implied he sees amy kind of like a daughter. like yeah she's an annoying kid that grates on his nerves and constantly tests his patience, and there's certain moments I think he loses sight of the fact that she is just a kid and he just acts like a complete asshole (like the trailer scene with curtis when she tries to practice her moves with the gun), but then there's so many times he does treat her like he knows she's just a kid (she's literally just a girl)

the entire time he's teaching her how to handle the gun and use it, how he praises her when she does well, how he comforts her when she does have to shoot the gun, how reluctant he is to go along with her plan with the creepy photographer guy, how gentle he is with her in the showdown scene with pilgrim, like he's such a girl dad PLS

so in my professional opinion, it would be more in character for him to sit her down and be like look, these people aren't gonna stop coming after you, I wanna take them down bc now it's personal for me, and in the morning you and I will come up with a plan to figure out who these people are and how to stop them

I think it would've been more in character for him to be like listen up buttercup, you can take off and take your chances by yourself, but I give it 24 hours before you're dead. or, you can help me out and I can keep your ungrateful ass safe until this gets handled, up to you

we could've even had a scene where she's like I can take care of myself bye, leaves, realizes she's in the literal middle of nowhere, weighs the pros and cons of being alone versus being with the guy who took down like thirteen people by himself (I forget how many there actually were but it was a lot), and then show back up at the motel door with a bratty eye roll like alright fine but i'm gonna complain the whole time

would frank have still been bitchy the entire time? absolutely. he's grumpy as it is, and he took a bullet to the ass for a girl that called him rough road to his face (that will never not be funny to me). but would the frank castle I know and love tie a young girl down to the bed and duct tape her mouth?? absolutely the fuck not

in conclusion whoever wrote that specific scene is a fucking weirdo and it's on sight if I ever catch them on the street

[recycledraccoon]

Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!

Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.

I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.

1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.

I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)

It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."

Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.

He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?

Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.

1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.

2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.

2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-

2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)

2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.

c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.

Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.

3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.

Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)

Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.

So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.

3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)

3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......

He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.

The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.

When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.

3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.

The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)

4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.

But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-

Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.

Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.

4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.

a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)

5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.

5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.

6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.

6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.

a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.

The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.

7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-

This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.

8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.

The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.

[riality-check]

Steddie with "Is this okay?" or "I saved you a seat." for the i love you without saying it thingy, please...if you're still doing it. :)

I'm super late on this, but here we go, anon! Is this okay? was done here, so I'm doing I saved you a seat.

"In the back, Henderson," Steve calls.

Dustin kind of hates that Steve isn't a loser anymore. He's back to his cool self, which means he's wearing sunglasses and doesn't look away from the road as he talks to Dustin.

He sputters. "Why? I get shotgun!"

"You get shotgun unless we're picking up Max."

"Are we picking up Max?"

"No," Steve says, finally turning to look at Dustin over the frames of his sunglasses.

Dustin wants to break them, but if he does that, Steve will probably stop driving him around.

He kind of needs Steve to keep driving him around. His mom is busy, and God knows Mr. Wheeler won't do it anymore.

"Get in the back or don't get in at all," Steve says.

Dustin rolls his eyes and gets in the back of the Beemer. Steve doesn't even ask if he's good to go before he pulls away from his house and down the street.

He doesn't usually, but a little warning would have been nice.

"I thought we were going to the arcade," he says.

"We are."

"No, we're going in the wrong direction."

In the rearview mirror, Dustin can see Steve sigh so heavily his shoulders move.

And he says Dustin is dramatic.

Steve flips his sunglasses onto his head, pushing his hair back, when they get to shadier streets. "I'm doing someone a favor, then I'm dropping you at the arcade to hang out with your friends. That okay?"

Dustin isn't really listening, not as Steve turns the car into Forest Hills. "I thought you said we weren't picking up Max."

"We're not."

"I know you're not very verbose, but could you give me answers that are more than two words?" Dustin snaps.

Steve parks the Beemer in front of Eddie's trailer and turns back to face Dustin. "Is this answer enough?"

He beeps the horn, and thirty seconds later, the front door slams open. Eddie nearly trips right out of it, all black-clothed, gangly limbs, enough metal on his outfit for Dustin to hear him jangling before he even gets in the Beemer.

"Saved you a seat," Steve says as Eddie opens the passenger seat door.

It takes Dustin a full ten seconds to realize that the smile Steve has on his face is the same one he'd use on girls at Scoops.

Wait.

"Thanks, Stevie," Eddie says, words as rushed as he seems to be. "I don't know when my van is going to get out of the shop, and Wayne needs the truck-"

"It's no problem," Steve says.

Stevie?

Dustin, for once, is speechless. The way Steve drives with one hand as Eddie takes his other one and starts toying with it has something to do with it.

When his mouth can finally catch up to his brain, he asks, "How long have you two been dating?"

"What?" they say.

Eddie drops Steve's hand like it's burning him, and Steve nearly brake-checks them in the middle of Main Street.

"We're not-"

"Why did you-"

"He doesn't-"

"I-"

"Arcade, Henderson!" Steve yells, cutting off the conversation completely. "Get out, have fun with whatever quarters your mom gave you, get a ride with someone who isn't me, thanks!"

"You aren't-"

"Get out or I will keep driving this car with you in it," Steve warns.

Eddie stares, dumbfounded, between Dustin and Steve. His eyes move like he's watching a tennis match.

"Okay," Dustin says, throwing his hands up. He gets out of the car, and not five seconds after he shuts the door, Eddie and Steve start talking.

Loudly.

He'd stay, but he's already late.

He goes into the arcade, straight to the Dig Dug machine where the rest of the party is waiting.

"Dustin, where were you?"

"Did you guys also think Steve and Eddie were dating, or was that just me?"

Max looks away from the machine, causing her to die in the game. "They're not?"

"Apparently."

"When did you find that out?" Lucas asks, looking a little distracted.

"About a minute ago."

"I think things might have changed since then," Lucas says, pointing to the window.

All of them rush to it and look outside. The Beemer is still in the parking lot. Eddie and Steve are still in it, and they're-

"Oh, God, no."

"This is like watching my parents kiss."

"Why Steve?" Mike moans, letting his head drop against the windowpane again and again. "Why did he have to pick Steve? I thought Eddie was better than this."

"It's kind of sweet."

They stare in silence. It's like a car wreck. It's impossible to look away.

Max shakes her head. "You guys made me waste a quarter on Dig Dug. I'm going back to playing."

"Hey, wait up!"

The rest of them rush back. Dustin is the last to look away.

And he laments the fact that he's never riding shotgun again.

Prompts here.

[leahkentwriter]

Hannibal but make it sapphic

Someone recommended a novella called Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson as it was apparently inspired by the tv show Hannibal. That got my attention. As did the cover art. (I kind of want to fuck the cover art, and I'm asexual.)

I feel like this is a twisted romantic horror story between a budding bisexual and a homoromantic asexual. Which I loved. More of that, please. Lesbians are great, but I like it when those of us who are a bit underrepresented are front and center.

What I will say here is that if you're a fan of the show but really wanted more of that sapphic element - this novella is worth a read. The rest of what I have to say I'll hide in case you want to pick this book up without my thoughts in your head.

This is a story about Ro, a newly appointed assistant professor of literature, and Ash, a free-spirited artisan. The story is sapphic and feminine, even when the horror is on full display - and it is on full display. There are very clear parallels into Hannibal which fans will pick up on, so those craving a sapphic version of the Will-Hannibal relationship may be interested in this story.

That said, the Hannibal references got a bit heavy-handed in my opinion. I think that in honoring every part of him, the narrative leaned in a bit too heavily. I enjoyed the elements that were unique to this particular story more than I did the tie-ins to Hannibal. Something more domestic, something that turns a certain kind of polished pastel Instagram aesthetic into horror. A protagonist that resonated with the awkward feelings and tendency to overthink that many of us experience. How well Dawson represents what obsessive feelings look and feel like.

Because this is a novella and it had to move quickly, there were things that had to be told rather than shown. That's fine - but at times, in this story, it felt clunky. There are moments where the narrator is clueless, yet it's so obvious what's going on. The literary references are sometimes great but sometimes don't pull their weight, and I wish they'd been used a bit more intentionally. The foreshadowing is at times less shadowy and more like a big blinking neon sign. Even without knowing anything about Hannibal, readers will know fairly quickly where things are going. This novella is about appreciating the journey, and what that journey looks like between queer women.

Ro is actually annoying, and I love that about her, because anyone who has ever been obsessively fixated on another person knows how your critical thinking skills suddenly shut down. She's distracted, she's fumbles, she does the wrong things for the right reasons and doesn't really listen and often knows she's not really listening, and her internal justifications are weak at best, so she's definitely not a martyr in this story. She both ignores red flags, and is a red flag herself. Both of these women have needs they're trying to sate, and have elements of toxic behavior.

Ro's awkwardness and mistakes and messy emotions and overthinking are usually relatable. She's pretty quickly out of her element and gets pushed more and more out of her comfort zone, which she at times overthinks, but at times just gives into. I did enjoy that about her.

Ash read to me as distinctly asexual. That's never overtly stated, but that was the vibe I got, which I enjoyed. And yes, there's sex in this story, because asexuals do fuck, and do even enjoy fucking (it's me. hi.) but Ash? She's a homoromantic ace. She's not getting off on the sex - there's something else driving her desire. (I'm a panromantic ace with kinks. I will die on this hill.)

Ash is an interesting predator, and any story where you've got women hunting women is going to get my attention. I've had enough of men hunting women. Women hunting men does satisfy a certain urge but I have to be in the mood.

Women hunting women is a whole different beast. And there's something Ash says toward the end of the story that felt very uniquely like something a predatory queer woman would say. We only ever see her via Ro, but it's easy to fill in the gaps that Ro doesn't (want to) see. If you're a Hannibal fan, you'll understand Ash pretty quickly. Even if you're not, her motives become clear. I think the thing I liked the best was that her desire isn't singular - by the end you realize that there were several ways this could have gone, and Ro was always the one who was going to determine that. (Of course, how much agency Ro actually has is debatable.)

I'm not sure how more hardcore Hannibal fans will like the ultimate ending - they will definitely understand where it comes from. I have mixed feelings about it simply because it does borrow from the show in a very direct way that I didn't like. I wish it had been done a bit differently. But I'm not disappointed at what it reveals about Ash.

My biggest critique is that I feel like this should have been a novel, because the things I felt were a bit clunky and heavy handed and rushed could have been easily smoothed out in a longer narrative. I also wanted to stay in this story longer. Despite my critiques, I did like it, and I feel like there's a lot more here that could have been explored. Dawson wove in lots of interesting threads.

I love stories that center women and women's spaces and feminine aesthetics, without making them seem silly or diminishing them. Stories that, like Dawson's, see the beauty and the horror without trivializing. You never get the impression that she's parodying or making fun. You see the idyllic nature of the life behind the aesthetic, as well as the gruesome realities. These are all things that are very familiar and very understandable. And that's what makes it chilling.

[lesbiansforboromir]

What are your thoughts on how they portrayed Fréaláf in War of the Rohirrim? I have questions about the backstory behind this exceptionally well put together guy who doesn't look quite like he matches the rest of the population of Rohan and goes by a matronymic surname. Did Hild marry a Gondorian Prince or noble, or perhaps did she marry abDunlending as part of a peace treaty and then fled back to Meduseld to raise her son when it fell apart. I love him but I want to know more about the decisions they made about his character.

NOW it's kind of funny because up until this ask my brain had just assumed it was declared somewhere that they had given Frealaf a gondorian father. But I actually cannot think of a particular instance where it is anything but implied... STILL I am fairly sure that was the intention.

His knowledge of the haradrim is probably the clearest nod to me, but there are all the wretched themactic implications they give him too. Like he's 'peaceable', softly spoken, he does not 'love war' 😒, he's basically a film-faramir copy-paste, except that he does display some prowess in combat and when he leads a charge of horsemen it's not at a brick wall. It IS down that goddamn horse-killing hill they love so much but we all have to suspend our horse logic for Tolkien media, it is known. So actually it's a little more book!faramir, Frealaf even gets his own watered down 'think better of me father' moment with Helm too, "my sword is yours if you ask for it 😔 it's so hard to be the most correct person in the room 😔 but I'm so noble and modest about it-" I have to stop being mean, he's nice I did like him.

ALSO it would line up with film!Helm's attempt to marry his daughter off to a Gondorian prince if he also married his sister off to a gondorian prince, and she was so '''safe''' and '''protected''' there as to encourage him to do it again.

Another reason I think he's supposed to be part Gondorian is because he takes the place of Gondor by the end of the film. In book-canon it's actually Beregond who breaks the siege on Helms Deep, whilst Frealaf is retaking Edoras. There is a significant amount of time where he and Beregond are working together to win what was almost a lost war in the rest of Rohan. BUT GONDOR JUST DOESN'T GO TO WAR EVER APPARENTLY SO HAHA WE CAN FORGET ABOUT THAT <3 uvu ... No actually this might be one of the only changes the film makes which I like, it is way more impactful and important for Frealaf to have this final victory. Kind of a no-brainer. BUT THE POINT IS it would be sort of a cohesive nod to book-canon for Frealaf to be part gondorian when he's taking gondor's place in thee narrative, if you see what I mean.

In terms of the matrilineal name usage, I do not particularly agree with it's being a term used for him pre-kingship. Like the reason he is remembered as "Hildsson" in the annuls of history is to define him as the beginning of the second line of rohir kings, ie not Helm's son, which would be a completely superfluous thing to do before all Helm's heirs have died. Honestly I still can't quite believe how absent Hild was in this supposedly feminist interpretation of this story, she is by far the character I want to hear from the most out of any of them. BUT YEAH LIKE, I guess within the narrative it's a useful way to convey information to the viewer and I should not be so grumpy about it.

The questions I have about Frealaf and his history that I most want answered are; Is his mother dead or just still living in Gondor? When did Frealaf come back to Rohan? WHY did he come to Rohan, was it a sense of duty? Belonging? What does his father think? Is his Father still alive? Or did both his father AND mother die for him to be fostered by Helm at a young age? I dont think so, since Frealaf is familiar with Gondorian military information (haradrim and so forth) so it feels like he is more familiar with Gondor in an adult capacity. But I do feel like his father is not alive? IDK!!

Later on Prince Thengel, Theoden's father, will run away from home and be fostered in Gondor because his father's a monster, and then marry a Gondorian noblewoman. But that is not for a very long time. So, depending upon how you read the historical relations between Gondorian and Rohir nobility, Frealaf's parentage could be exceedingly unique for the timeframe, and he would likely be oft compared to Eldacar in Gondor (King whose non-dunedain mother caused a civil war in Gondor incited by eugenicist outrage). So like!! Frealaf could have a lot of complex experiences and emotions surrounding his family, his sense of self, of who he is, of his attachment to one land or another. Like it was probably particularly painful for Frealaf to hear Helm tell him he was no kin of his, when the lingering dunadain supremacists in Gondor might have made him feel just as outcast there.

I hope there was a satisfying answer for you in there somewhere! :)