#well that and the fact that she is so bad at them all

[buddyhollysbuddyholly]

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ. ELVIS VER. ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

All about ELVIS (pride themed)

Hes a cis guy, he's not like too deep into gender since he's comfortable with his own but he does understand it and does his best.

Hes GAY!!! Who would've guessed! He used to be very confused and almost angry at himself for being Homo especially in season 1 (kinda like JFK's questioning episode) but by the middle of season 2 he ignores the jock stereotypes and learns to accept himself.

He was drunk in episode one and had a deep talk with Gregory (my lovely wife's clone) and was like "shoot..I like him.." Though his parents always had a thought he would turn out, gay, and they tried to ignore it for as long as possible.

His parents are rich and barely around so of course his environments rocky. At school with his old friends their very much your typical jock guys who make gay jokes and stuff. When he gains new friends after season 1 (buddy, James dean etc) he becomes more accepting and his environment gets better.

Well me and my girlfriend were talking about our ideas for the clones and she was like "I dunno if I like Gregory and buddy together.." and I brought up Elvis and Gregory as a little joke but uh..that in fact did NOT stay a joke.

He doesn't mind labels, they respect others labels and would prefer if people respected his.

Not that I know of..maybe finding like straight like..videos erotic but other than that he's pretty confidant in his identity.

The idea that 1) the actual Elvis was considered a ladies man and 2) there is a lot of pressure from the other jocks and his own family to date a cute cheerleader (specifically Marie Antoinette)

Im not really sure..soooo NEXT!

yup! him and the gang usually go to parades and dress up for it, he's performed at one

he used to be really quiet and low-key about it, only kissing Gregory behind bleachers and at their homes, but now he's open and publicly shows his affection for Gregory

In season 1 he most definitely has internalized homophobia and transphobia (not to bad extents by they're there.) Hes able to move past it though and he acknowledges his faults

I don't think so, he doesn't really understand it and he also only has eyes for Gregory.

Hes not mine, but my girlfriend @waylonjenningswife oc (waylon I know ironic) is actually demi aroace!

None of them do, I don't think they'd really get them but they respect them!

I mean..I guess? if making actual people into clones and making them a part of the community counts

Not mine (again) but my girlfriends Marilyn and Bettie clones! (lesbians)

It depends on the oc but I personally like giving them labels just cause I feel it normalizes it more

i dunno about preference? But I usually show it as how it goes on in high school (since clone high..duh..) cause its not always so apparent ESPECIALLY with the popular kids its so annoying

they def did cause I was able to put how I feel about finding myself and etc into them and it helped lots

uhhh if you wanna know more about Elvis or my other ocs feel free to ask about them through my ask box!

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈PRIDE THEMED OC ASK GAME🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️

Bc I wanted one and didn't find it so. Here

[Send ask aimed at a specific character]

1. What's your oc's gender identity? What's their relationship to their gender?

2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?

6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?

7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

10. Does your oc celebrate Pride? How?

11. Is your oc open about their identity? Are they more lowkey or more blunt about it? Why or why not?

12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia)

13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?

[Not aimed at a specific character] / [Aimed at creator]

14. Do you have ocs on the aro or ace spectrum?

15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?

16. Did you ever change an oc's identity when they were already established? Why?

17. Do you share identity with any of your ocs? Which ones?

18. Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?

19. Do you have preferences about depicting homo/transphobia in your stories? What, and why? Does it vary by story?

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

21. Free ramble card wee

[backpackingspace]

Odysseus: demanding Athena take off whatever enchantment she put on him the second the situation ends.

Odysseus: who constantly reminds Athena that he has great plans to grow old and die with his wife so don't even think about getting any ideas.

Odysseus: side eye diomedes who has started fucking glowing he has so many enchantments on him: bro you should talk to Athena about getting those removed. You're going to end up immortal or some shit

Diomedes: who has been a solider since he was 5 who has intersting thoughts about his own personhood who has a much more traditional relationship with Athena and would rather literally stab his own eye out with a rusted sword than speak out of turn: I don't know what you're talking about

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r is a gryffindor lol, this is lowkey super short… 2.1k words, the next chapter will be better...trust

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It had been weeks. Weeks since James had last spoken to you, the last time you had talked was in december, now you're almost two weeks into february, and the rift between you only seemed to grow wider. At first, he told himself he was giving you space. He thought that if he stayed back, you’d eventually come to him, and things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

Every time James worked up the courage to approach you, it was the same thing: you were with him.

Finn Laurier.

James hated how the name left a sour taste in his mouth. Finn wasn’t a bad guy—he was charming, clever, and polite. Too polite, in James’s opinion. Finn Laurier was completely different from James, and that only made the knot of insecurity and jealousy in James’s chest tighten.

While James was loud and brash, Finn had an easygoing, quiet confidence about him. Where James was all about grand gestures and bold declarations, Finn had a knack for subtlety and knowing the right thing to say at the right time. It didn’t help that Finn had somehow managed to claim the spot James had always held at your side, and you didn’t seem to mind.

From across the common room, James watched as Finn leaned in closer to you, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You laughed at something he said, the sound tugging at James’s heart in a way that made him feel like an idiot.

He slumped back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “What does she even see in him?” he muttered under his breath.

Sirius, sprawled out beside him, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s good-looking, smart, and doesn’t look like he’s been moping for weeks?”

James glared at him. “I’m not moping.”

“Sure, you’re not,” Sirius drawled. “That’s why you’ve been staring at them for the past ten minutes like you’re about to hex him.”

“I’m not going to hex him,” James grumbled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s very mature of you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in from his corner, not looking up from his book. “But maybe instead of glaring at him, you should focus on fixing things with her.”

“Yeah, because that’s gone so well for me so far,” James shot back bitterly.

“Have you even tried?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

James opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. The truth was, he had tried—at least, he thought he had. But every time he saw you, Finn was there, making you laugh, leaning just a little too close. And every time, James felt like his chances were slipping further and further away.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to ignore the knot of confusion and hurt that James’s behavior had left behind. You weren’t blind to the way he’d been avoiding you, or how he seemed to retreat every time you so much as glanced in his direction.

Finn had been a welcome distraction. He was kind, easy to talk to, and, most importantly, he didn’t make you feel like you’d done something wrong. But even as you laughed at his jokes and listened to his stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling of James’s eyes on you from across the room.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet all of a sudden,” Finn said, tilting his head slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you said quickly, offering him a small smile. “I just… I guess I’m a little distracted.”

Finn nodded, his expression understanding. “Fair enough. If you ever want to talk about it…”

“Thanks, Finn,” you said softly, though your gaze drifted back toward James.

He was still sitting on the couch with Sirius, looking like he was caught between frustration and defeat. When your eyes met for the briefest of moments, he quickly looked away, running a hand through his already messy hair.

You sighed, your chest tightening. Whatever had happened between you and James, it felt bigger than anything you could fix with a simple conversation. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle this silent stalemate.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now James’s second least favorite day—Valentine’s Day. His least favorite day was still the one he’d sat in Charms class and watched you laugh with Finn Laurier for the first time. That moment had burned itself into his memory, playing on a cruel loop every time he closed his eyes.

But this… this was a close second.

If you had told James back in December that he’d be avoiding you on Valentine’s Day instead of spending it as a happy, loved-up couple, he would have called you mad. Back then, he’d been so sure of himself. So sure that his letter, his heartfelt, trembling confession, would be the thing that finally made you see him as more than just James Potter, your goofy best friend.

And yet, here he was, slouched in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by heart-shaped confetti that refused to disappear no matter how many times he swatted it away. The house elves had really outdone themselves this year—floating cupid decorations zipped around the room, shooting glittering pink arrows into the air. James glared at one that came a little too close, muttering something about “bloody overkill.”

“I hate this,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair.

“Well, don’t be sulking for the whole day,” Sirius said, perched on the arm of the couch nearby. His tone was a mix of amusement and exasperation, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re all supposed to go to The Three Broomsticks soon, remember?”

James let out another unintelligible grumble, something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t want to,” though the exact words were lost in his sulk.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate, this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been moping around for weeks.”

“I’m not moping,” James shot back, though the words lacked any real conviction.

“You’re literally the definition of moping,” Sirius said, smirking. “You’re sitting here, arms crossed, glaring at a cupid like it personally insulted your family.”

“I don’t want to go to The Three Broomsticks,” James muttered.

“And why not?” Sirius pressed, though James could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer.

James sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Because she might be there,” he admitted quietly.

“She, as in you-know-who?” Sirius teased, though his smirk softened slightly when he saw the genuine frustration on James’s face. “Look, Prongs, you can’t avoid her forever. It’s a small castle. You’re bound to run into her eventually.”

“I know that,” James said, his voice tight. “But I just… I can’t deal with seeing her with him today, alright? Not on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re assuming she’s spending the day with Finn, but has she actually told you that?”

James hesitated. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “But why wouldn’t she? He’s—he’s Finn Laurier, for Merlin’s sake. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t she spend Valentine’s Day with him?”

“You’re an idiot,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

James blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Sirius said, standing up and stretching, “that instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, you could actually try talking to her. Maybe, just maybe, things aren’t as hopeless as you think.”

James stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. The idea of approaching you now, after everything, felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. But Sirius’s words planted a small, stubborn seed of hope in his mind.

“Fine,” James muttered, standing up. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m hexing you.”

Sirius grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As James followed Sirius out of the common room, his mind raced with a hundred different scenarios. He wasn’t sure what he’d say if he saw you—or if he even had the courage to say anything at all. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t keep hiding forever. But it looks like the odds were not in his favor–he felt like his world was crumbling. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Sirius, it just made things worse. You had said yes to being Finn’s valentine–and worst of all, who asks a girl out on valentine's day?

James scoffed, his sadness shifting into a simmering anger. He quickly left the scene, Sirius trailed behind him, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

“Slow down, Prongs!” Sirius called.

James didn’t respond, only slowing when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He paused there, allowing Sirius to catch up before muttering the password under his breath. As the portrait swung open, James turned to his friend with a scowl.

“I’m never listening to you again.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius protested, throwing up his hands. “How was I supposed to know Laurier would swoop in right then and there?”

Inside the common room, Remus and Peter exchanged curious glances.

“What happened?” Remus asked, his tone cautious.

“She was right there,” James burst out, his voice rising with frustration. “And so was Laurier. He asked her out! They didn’t even see me—or Sirius, thankfully—but still!” He threw himself into an armchair, running a hand through his already messy hair.

The others stayed silent, unsure how to comfort him.

After an awkward three minutes, Peter cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we head to the Three Broomsticks? A bit of butterbeer might help take your mind off things.”

For a moment, James said nothing. Then, as if possessed by some newfound resolve, he stood abruptly.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone. “If she can be completely unbothered after I confessed my undying love for her, then ignore me, and worst of all—start dating some tosser who’s the polar opposite of me—then fine. I’ll move on too. Starting now. Let’s go.”

The other Marauders stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the James they knew—the James who would spend hours pestering Sirius about why you hadn’t replied to his letters, the James who badgered Remus for details about your every interaction, the James who constantly begged Peter for updates about you in the classes you shared.

It was as if the James Potter they knew had been replaced by someone else entirely.

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed with snow, the cold biting at their cheeks as the Marauders made their way to the Three Broomsticks. James led the group, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his jaw set tight. He was unusually quiet, his normal easy going demeanor replaced with something sharper, more defensive.

Sirius tried to break the silence first. “Prongs, mate, you know she didn’t do it to hurt you, right? She probably didn’t even know how you felt.”

James let out a sharp laugh, his breath clouding in the cold air. “She didn’t know? Oh, she knew. I wrote her a bloody letter, Padfoot. I poured my heart out. If she didn’t get the hint, then she’s thicker than I thought—and she’s not thick.”

Sirius grimaced, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Alright, alright, bad point. But still, Laurier? The guy’s got the personality of a Flobberworm.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James muttered. “Apparently, she likes Flobberworms.”

Peter, trying to ease the tension, piped up, “Well, maybe Laurier’s just a rebound, you know? She’ll realize what a tosser he is soon enough.”

Remus shot Peter a warning look, but James seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

“Rebound from what?” James muttered. “She’s never been with anyone to rebound from.”

They reached the Three Broomsticks, the warm glow from inside spilling out onto the snow-covered street. The group filed in, quickly finding a table in the back corner. The usual bustling energy of the pub seemed muted to James, his mind too occupied with replaying the moment he’d seen you say yes to Finn Laurier.

A round of butterbeers arrived at the table, and Sirius pushed a tankard in front of James. “Alright, here’s the plan,” Sirius said, leaning forward. “We’re going to have a laugh, you’re going to forget about Laurier, and tomorrow, you’ll go back to being your annoying, charming self. Sounds good?”

James took a long sip of his butterbeer, the warm liquid doing little to ease the ache in his chest. “Yeah, sure. Forget about her. Easy.”

“James,” Remus said gently, “it’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m not acting,” James snapped, though his tone softened almost immediately. “I’m fine. Really.”

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus, both of them unconvinced.

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[tinfoil-jones]

Has Stan ever questioned Jerk Ford the reason why he is the only person he isn't a jerk to, since he's an a-hole even to the other members in their family?

"You don't know him like I do."

- Both Stans at the same time.

On Jerk Ford:

Throughout their lives, Stan insisted that just because Ford’s a jerk, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about anyone. He does care! Really! He just has a hard time showing it. No one ever believed him. You could just say that it’s a twin thing when Stan says something along the lines of “You don’t know him like I do” and they’re like well no shit he’s not a jerk to you. But, give Stanley some credit here, he’s more observant than you think he is.

---

Retired tech billionaire "Old Man" Fiddleford Hadron McGucket starts his mornings as he often does; going into his garage/workshop with a cup of coffee so he could re-tune his banjo for a few songs, quietly so as not to wake his wife.

He almost drops his cup of coffee when he see's theres something on his workbench that wasn't there last night.

A multitool.

One he hasn't seen in thirty years, but recognized instantly.

Carefully, he picks it and and inspects it, maybe it's just a replica.

FHM

Engraved in his late fathers handwriting, a loose scrawl that almost looked cursive if it weren't for the letters not being attached.

It's the same multitool. It's in pristine condition.

---

When they were just little boys, they were hiding behind the counter as their Pa was arguing with a customer, who ended up calling Filbrick a word they never heard before. Filbrick kicked the customer out, but it was clear he was more upset than he let off, in fact, he seemed almost sad, something neither twin had ever seen from their Pa. Filbrick then gave them a lecture that they can never repeat the word they just heard the man call him, because it was a very bad word that people used to insult and put down people 'of their faith'. 

A few minutes later, that same customer slipped on a banana peel that ‘came out of nowhere’, and sprained his ankle.

When they were a little older, Caryn was taking the twins out for a walk, when they passed a construction site and the construction workers started whistling at her, and giving her ‘compliments’ that she didn’t seem to like. She ignored it, but her little sons noticed her pace sped up and she almost rushed them away. 

That night, as those workers were double checking the work they’d done for the day, they were baffled to find that the concrete hadn’t set; the concrete had been tampered with, as if someone had poured a bunch of sugar in it while it was mixing. They’d have to redo it all over again, and it’d cost the company extra for the wasted concrete.

When the twins were in high school, Shermie, who had long since moved out but was visiting, was in tears telling their parents that his boss refused to give him the day off on the day his wife was due to give birth to their baby.

A week before the baby was born, his workplace was suddenly so badly infested with termites and roaches, that it would need two weeks to be properly fumigated, so the workers didn’t have to work while the fumigation was going on, and they’d still get paid because they were salary workers. Shermie was there with his wife when she gave birth to their son, and he got to dedicate a few days to just being with his wife and baby.

Their Ma would help out with Shermie's son sometimes, because both parents worked, but she also worked and would have her two younger sons help out with babysitting as well. And although Ford would gripe and complain about 'dealing with a brat all day', Stan had seen more than once that Ford would put the baby to sleep more than once by simply holding him in his arms and lying down with him, and also falling asleep.

In Backupsmore, Fiddleford was being bullied by a professor who looked down on him for being ‘a hick from an inbred, uneducated family’, and he was told to suck it up when he tried reporting her because she was tenured. In the middle of the year, she was unexpectedly replaced by a new, and much nicer, professor, and they were told their original professor was taking ‘an extended leave of absence’. 

She never came back, and it later came to light later on that the dean found a box full of documents and VHS tapes under his desk that hadn’t been there when he left his office the night before. All of which were extensive proof that the professor had been secretly embezzling the schools budget. 

When Ford comes back to their dimension after thirty years in the multiverse, no one who knew him from before is surprised that he’s still a huge indiscriminate jerk, and people who hadn’t personally known him but knew about him because of their yearly holiday that celebrated his disappearance were unpleasantly surprised to find out he was as bad as everyone said he was. And Stan didn’t necessarily disagree, but even after decades apart he could still see right through his twin as if he were made of rude glass.

Dipper's pens are suddenly indestructible to his chewing habit so no more mouthfuls of ink, and Mabel mysteriously never runs out of glitter; lately, it's also been more shimmery and almost... magical?

It doesn't matter where either of them fall asleep, they always end up waking up tucked into their beds, even though they told Grunkle Stan in the beginning of summer that they were too old to be carried and to just leave them wherever they’d crashed. 

Soos had been complaining all summer about his van making weird noises and having really poor mileage. Out of nowhere, Soos’s vehicle starts running like a dream and he’s getting ninety miles to a gallon, when it’s been twenty to the gallon at most as long as he’s had it.

Also, he didn't remember when he'd upgraded the graphics card of his home computer, but he sure is loving the higher FPS when he's playing video games.

Wendy is beside herself distressed and crying to Stan, Soos, and the Mystery Twins that her house had roof leak when a surprise summer rainstorm hit, and her favourite framed photograph of herself with her late mother was water damaged beyond repair, and is nearly unrecognizable.

The next day she asks her father when he’d made a copy of her photograph, and he replies that he has no idea what she’s talking about. She then takes a closer look at the newly framed picture she'd found on her desk that had been placed right next to her damaged one- did someone paint this…?

People assume that Ford only cares about his twin brother and no one else, because he's the only person he's never been a jerk to. But Stanley knows that isn't true; Ford loves just as strongly as he does, he just has a hard time letting people know.

As for Ford not being a jerk to him? Why would Ford bother, when Stan can see right through him? His twin is the only person who can see him, really see him.

---

Hours after Fiddleford had stormed out of the cabin with his bags in tow, Stanley looks over disheartened when he see's Stanford calmly place the multitool onto his own workbench.

"There were other ways to make him leave, Ford."

"I needed to make sure he wouldn't come back. That was too close of a call."

Ford had intended to give it back when the project was over, too bad it was on his belt when he was pushed into the multiverse.

[schizosupport]

While I understand where you might be coming from, I think you fundamentally misunderstand OP's point, while lacking awareness of what it can be like to be a patient in the psychiatric system.

You acknowledge yourself that if you have a bad doctor, you need to change to a better one. But you also say to always trust your doctor, or you won't get better. These two statements can't coexist, because if you trust your doctor no matter what, you won't be able to protect yourself from bad doctors "and change to a new one" or whatever else protecting yourself might entail.

Now, OP isn't actually saying not to trust a doctor that you have found to be good and helpful and trustworthy. What OP is saying, is that placing blind trust in a bad psychiatrist can lead to real life harm for psychiatric patients.

Psychiatrists have systemic power over their patients, and they can both force you into treatments, and deny you treatments, based on the information you share with them. I'll give a couple examples.

1) A friend of mine who had been struggling severely and unable to work for the past year due to stress and increasing panic attacks/flashbacks finally went to see a psychiatrist at a hospital. The first person she talked to was really nice. She asked about drugs and my friend admitted that she occasionally smokes weed to calm down from the very symptoms that she's seeking help for. The psych was understanding. A couple interviews later she gets a new doctor who has a different opinion. And skip to two years later where the system is still denying her care bc "she has a drug addiction" while the drug addiction clinic is denying her care bc "that doesn't count as a drug addiction" and "she would stop smoking weed if someone cared for her glaring mental problems". She is not alone, this is a very common scenario across the world. If you admit to ever touching drugs you may very well be denied care indefinitely. The community recommendation in my country is to never admit to any substance use, even to people in the system who seem understanding, because others in the system may be less so, and you may never get the care you need. As you can imagine, this gets very complicated for people where the drug use is also a large issue on its own.

2) Another friend of mine went to get assessed for adhd. They said they couldn't finish the assessment bc she was too disorganized, and she was sent to be assessed for a schizo spec disorder instead. She was desparate to get any diagnosis at all bc she really really needed help. Here she was given a schizotypal diagnosis. After this she was being treated for this with antipsychotics. They didn't do anything good for her, in fact they made her worse. She tried to ask to be reassessed for ADHD but was denied bc it was seen as a delusion. Her gender identity (which she had been out and in treatment for, for years) was seen as a delusion, and the psychiatric system blocked her from getting the necessary paperwork to get surgery. Eventually she went private sector and found a good psychiatrist who diagnosed her with ADHD. With adhd meds things started improving, she also got her letter from the private psych and got her surgery. (And she's doing so much better!!) But if she hadn't had the means to go private, then her psychiatrists would've been able to block her from the right treatment and life saving surgery indefinitely. This is an example of what can happen from being honest about even quasi-psychotic symptoms, and the ways psychiatrists often have power to block and gatekeep certain treatments from you based on how THEY perceive you and your reality.

3) A third friend of mine is schizophrenic and on a treatment order. She hasn't done anything criminal, but where she lives you can be put on a treatment order simply if a panel of psychiatrists decide that if you don't get forced treatment, you might deterioate. So for a long time she had injections of a medication that was not helping, but that was causing severe side effects, forced on her. This is one of many examples of psychiatrists wielding systemic power over their patients.

Many psychiatric patients fear being honest with their care providers, because it can lead to forced hospitalization, forced medication, or it can lead to denial of care and treatment. This is not an ungrounded fear. These are things that happen to people. Sure, some may fear this beyond what's realistic in their situation, so anxiety can mix with this, but it is a real thing to be aware of.

And as I've attempted to illustrate with these examples, it's not as simple as "if you get a bad doctor, get a new one". This is often not an option, there's often a paper trail that follows you from doctor to doctor, and even the first doctor you meet have power over you, and can potentially make your situation worse if they are bad at their job.

I know several people who have been severely overmedicated and wrongfully medicated. One person I knew was taking 10 different medications at once, including heavy duty antipsychotics despite not having experienced or being diagnosed with psychosis, and benzodiazepines on a completely irresponsible regiment that got her severely physically addicted. She didn't start to get better, before she slowly weaned off all these substances against her doctor's recommendation.

In an ideal world we could always trust our doctors, and be honest from the get-go, with the assumption that they know what they're doing and won't force or deny care.

But in the reality we live in, doctors have systemic power over patients, and not all doctors are good. So therefore it is in fact important to advocate for yourself, seek out information independent from your own doctor, talk to others in the community about their experiences, and yes. To be tactical about what you do and do not share with your psychiatrist. And when it does fuck up, you may very well need a lawyer. For example if you want to sue for wrongful treatment, overuse of coercion, or to get you off a treatment order that's destroying your life.

I really recommend doing some research into the kind of abuse and neglect that unfortunately takes place in the psychiatric system, before speaking so confidently on the matter.

Psychiatry differs fundamentally from oncology in its views on patients' rights to autonomy, and in the level of power granted to your doctor to control your life. But that said, most of us are not experts on oncology either. Which means that in reality it can be pretty hard to know whether your oncologist is good, and whether you need a new one. And somatic medicine is not free of bias, abuse and neglect either.

So TLDR, OP isn't saying never to seek help or not to trust your doctor with anything, she's saying to be aware of the potential pitfalls and to be tactical in your approach and to advocate for yourself, and not to trust psychiatric authority blindly.

That's not ableism, that's realism.

I want and need more discussions of how, when you're labeled mentally ill, a psychiatrist is in fact an authoritative figure with systemic power over your life and autonomy who might in some cases turn out to be bigoted or abusive. Most of us know that statements like "you should always tell the cops everything! They just want to help you" are harmful, and yet I constantly see posts telling people to trust their psychs with everything if they want to get better without any mentions of what can happen and how to protect yourself if it turns out your psych isn't a good guy

[ninguitar]

LOVE ON A WIRE.　 08. i want nunu wc. 26OO+

❛ megan has never, ever wanted anything as bad in her life, until you—an underground singer and songwriter, is unemployed, and the textbook definition of a loser—stroll into her heart and her life. matter of fact, what happens when she accidentally replies to your thirst-traps that were a rebounding joke after a rough break-up, on twitter, and on the katseye account? ❜

"christ…" you mumble under your breath, a sullen sigh falling from your lips, as you manage to walk through the crowd, your eyes darting around to search for your friends. every few seconds, you'd flash a faux smile at somebody, that would soon falter shortly after. you shuffle through the crowd, intak finally getting into your line of view, as a small smile curbs your lips. waving your hands up, the korean boy rushes to your side.

"this was definitely a turnout," intak mutters, his tone betrayed by the way a grin adorns his face and his eyes creasing like crescents. "can't believe aeri and yunjin know all these people," he whispers, his eyes wandering around the crowd, as his arm wraps around your shoulder, his teeth on the rim of his solo cup of spiked punch. you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your breath.

"you're good though, right? with playing in front of the crowd, i mean," you ask, nudging the taller boy's shoulder playfully, as a crooked smile tugs at the corners of his lips. intak nods his head, squeezing your shoulder lightly, as he bites the inside of his cheek.

the crowd presses in around you two, booze being passed around, while you two were tucked in your dorm kitchen, that you were lucky enough to use without your roommates scolding and berating you. your dorm was practically filled to the brim with people you barely knew; god that was a calling for somebody to just throw-up all over your furniture, and you couldn't help but chastise yourself for following through with this party.

intak suddenly speaks up, nudging your shoulder, and whistling, "isn't that the 'fine shit' you're always tweetin' about?" he muses, and you scowl at his bluntness, rolling your eyes. you nonetheless, though, crane your neck up, your eyes meeting some girl, who you're pretty sure is part of katseye.

fuck.

your hands brush up against intak's nervously, as you nudge the boy, chiding, "fuck, you idiot! one of them saw me starin'," you gruff, as you watch intak put his arms up, feigning innocence. he shrugs with his broad shoulders, as he watches you practically melt down onto the floor, a laugh escaping from his throat at your antics.

"maybe—just maybe—you'll pull tonight," the korean boy teases, his hand ruffling your hair playfully, and you're so sure that anybody could see the heat curling at your cheeks, as you watch a few of the katseye members enter and weave through the crowd. alarm bells ring through your head, as your brows are knitted together, unconsciously staring at the ginger-headed one.

carding a hand through your hair, your hand going to play with the straggling piece of hair. a smirk graces intak's lips, as he watches your gaze intently, "you want the ginger, am i right, or am i right? you pretend to not hear the korean boy, letting the pulsating music, laughter, and vibrant energy of the party distract you. he takes a swig from his solo cup, invested in how you'll somehow fumble in real-time, right in front of him as well.

"where's the rest anyway?" you ask, your eyes flickering around the crowd to try to search for any of your guys' friends. the boy beside you shrugs, a look of confusion washing over his features, "aren't they meant to be setting up the equipment? either that or, they're shit-faced drunk."

"could be both," a giggle falls from your lips, before you look up, noticing the way a few of the katseye members briskly walk up to you. a string of curses escape your breath, as you try to avoid their gaze as much as possible, patting intak's shoulder to regain his attention.

shit, shit, shit.

he scoffs, instinctively slipping his arms over your shoulder, and rolling his eyes. a slight scowl accompanies your face at his touch, as his eyes droop down to you, mimicking your face to mock you. your facial expression slightly wavers though, as your eyes shamelessly trail down the ginger girl. you exhale, your ears burning in embarrassment, as you realize how you were practically ogling the poor girl.

"act normal, freak," intak giggles quietly, flicking your forehead lightly, and in return, a low grunt escapes your breath.

and fortunately for you, lara approaches first, the girl pulling you into a hug. a soft smile curbs your lips, as you watch the korean boy gingerly stand beside you, his eyes wandering everywhere to distract himself. your hand brushes up against the small of her back, as you wave at the rest of the members, softly humming.

"it's been so long, god! i've missed you," lara exclaims, a smile on her face. you nod, your eyes crinkling into crescents, and a relieved sigh escaping your breath. you extend your hand over to the rest of the girls, your eyes fixating on the ginger one while you do so—what was her name again? hell, you're pretty sure that she told you, and that you heard it, but it most definitely flew through your other ear—especially when your eyes were too busy scanning her features, specifically her lips.

and before you could introduce yourself too, intak taps your shoulder in a hurry, as yunjin ushers to your side, whispering something about needing you to start performing. you awkwardly mumble out a half-assed apology, "shit, sorry, i'll see you guys in like half an hour?" you curtly follow after yunjin and intak, groaning under your breath, "you guys couldn't give me at least a ten minute warning?"

you hastily fasten on your guitar strap, adjusting it slightly, as you watch yunjin's face contort into one of annoyance, "you would've been more pissed that you couldn't see that ice spice lookalike of yours if i did." she quips, a teasing grin flashing on her face, shooting you a knowing look.

"you're looking real punchable, y'know that? you and intak are like thing 1 and thing 2."

yunjin scoffs, shoving your head playfully, as her eyes flicker back to intak, making sure he was set and ready to go. "don't fuck tonight up, yn, i know you. don't accidentally wake up in some girl's room after tonight, the same way you did with julie." she lightly scolds you, shaking her head, and exhaling, intak nods his head, chiming in, "yeah, and make sure soobin doesn't go on some search party for you again." he jokes, trying to lighten the mood up.

"yeah, yeah, thanks mom 'n dad," you lament, nudging yunjin, but you knew your two friends meant well; you just wanted to tease them. you micmic a saluting pose at yunjin, making her roll her eyes.

you take a swig from the korean girl's cup, before scowling, closing your eyes shut, "jesus, never mix alcohol ever again!" you exclaim, and you grit your teeth, as you hand the cup back to the girl, who watches over you with a shit-eating grin. while you were busy trying to get rid of the repulsive taste of yunjin's mix of alcohol off your tongue, intak grabs a mic, exclaiming out, "could i get everybody's attention real quick!"

"oh, god," a string of curses escape from under your breath, as you watch intak speak up—the boy a bit tipsy, and it was evident in the way he breathlessly exclaims out words without any hesitation.

"like everybody knows, yn released her new record today! 'n to celebrate that, and also to cut back on fees, she'll be performing a little snippet of her songs, instead of the traditional band and dj shit!"

you rub your temples at the way the korean boy staggers, and you instinctively rush to his side, your hand squeezing his shoulder. fucking christ—one drink, and the man's already down. a series of giggles escapes your breath, as you watch the crowd erupt into a wave of laughter too. you shoot intak a frustrated look before a sigh drifts from your lips, and patting his shoulder, you nonetheless let the music blaring sink into the instrumental of one of your songs. your hands drift to your hello-kitty guitar, softly hovering over the strings, as a smile tugs your lips.

and while you finish up the rest of your last song, megan's eyes trail down your body, practically entranced by you. fuck. she was an idol, and you were a musician, too; the media would explode, and katseye has barely reached their one-year. this was stupid, really.

once you were done with your last song, you immediately try to gently drop your guitar onto yunjin's hands abruptly, eliciting a grunt from the korean girl, as you grab a cup of alcohol from the table, your teeth biting the rim of it. the ginger-headed girl's gaze hasn't left the back of your head; you could probably see it through the reflection, but who cares?

you laxly grasp the cup of alcohol, your cheeks flushed, as you lean against your kitchen counter, "party's better than my expectations," you gruff, patting yunjin's shoulder, and pulling her in for a side-hug, "thanks to you 'n the rest. fuck, i still don't know where half our group is!" the korean girl shakes her head, a soft smile playing on her lips, "you did good out there, y'know that? can't believe you went from some disaster on twitter, posting songs about your exes, to this," she murmurs, her voice laced with unbridled sincerity.

you giggle, "you should really try out for producing, jen. you got the talent for it," you shrug, as the music continues to blast through your dorm, making you pause in your words. before you could continue your words, a figure abruptly bumps into you, making you accidentally douse your clothes in alcohol. your eyes bulge out for a second, and you're met by a familiar face. what was your luck tonight?

"oh, shit, sorry—hey," the ginger-haired girl profusely apologizes, wetting her lips, as she takes you in; god was she fumbling, and in front of you, too. she laughs softly, the sound of it hypnotizing, as she reaches a hand out to place on your shoulder. the expression sporting her face is practically akin to one of a deer in headlights.

"it's fine, really, don't worry about it, pretty," your lips move faster than your mind, because you don't even realize the way the word slips out of your mouth, rolling off your tongue smoothly—like you meant it wholeheartedly. heat curls at your cheeks the moment you realize, "fuck, i didn't mean that—not that you aren't pretty, of course, you are; you're like, the epitome of gorgeous. but i just didn't mean it that way!"

you wished you could just disappear from the face of the earth right now. you were just so sure that the way your cheeks and ears flare with heat was god-awfully obvious, as you stumble over your words, an awkward smile on your lips.

you flinch as the girl speaks up, a series of giggles falling from her breath, as she shakes her head. your gaze fixates on her face, from the way her prominent dimples adorned her face, to her lips. god, this sucked—so badly, possibly worse than being cheated on with a man, really. "relax, you're good, don't worry about it. you're cute," megan coaxes, her voice reassuring and dulcet, as she watches you melt into the ground.

barely a few words in, and you're basically wrapped around her finger.

she shakes her head in a frenzy realizing that your clothes were still stained, "shit, i should help you clean it, right? least i could do." her hand curls around your wrist, "c'mon, show me where your bathroom is." your eyes droop down to glance at the stains on your top, mumbling under your breath, "yeah, yeah, sure."

you bite the inside of your cheek, as yunjin's words previously flicker in your mind, but you nonetheless lead the ginger-headed girl to your bathroom, weaving through the maze of the crowd. she snorts, "wow do you have quite the crowd," her gaze fixating on your friends, specifically, doing kegstands, earning a chuckle from you.

you tilt your head, referring to your friends, "they're just… like that way," and you shrug, pulling your bathroom door handle open. you beckon megan to follow suit, biting the inside of your cheek, as you click the door locked. you smooth your hair down before propping yourself up on the counter, your face sporting a gentle smile.

"you go to school here?" she asks, as she shuffles to grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from your cabinets, smiling. you nod your head, dangling your legs above the floor, as the edm music outside the bathroom blares through. she glances back at your top, giving you a small groan, "i'm sorry, y'know, for spilling your drink on you." she murmurs quietly, her voice tinged with embarrassment, "i know it's your big night and stuff."

you flash a reassuring smile at the girl, meekly shaking your head, "it's okay, don't worry your pretty head 'bout it," you slur, barely registering your own words. heat flares at the tips of megan's ears, as she softly sighs, spinning back around towards you. she couldn't suppress her laughs, chuckling airily at your cluelessness as she tenderly hovers a towel over your top, dabbing it over the stains.

and while megan helps you clean up your stain, she sneaks little glances up at you every few seconds, her smile so tight to her teeth like she was holding back a grin.

"i listened to your record earlier; you're a natural," she coos, trying to lighten the mood. her eyes barely look up, too engrossed in trying to clean the mess she left on you, while your gaze fixates on her lips, your palms plastered against the countertop. the girl drew soft patterns with the cloth over your top, humming under your breath, and absorbing part of the stain.

"really, you think so?" you ask, your eyes glimmering, "i wrote most of them on my couch and with my guitar." you shift yourself closer to megan, trying to make it easier for her. the spinning in your head continues at her words, and the butterflies begin to swarm your stomach—the sincerity laced in her words only served to make it even worse.

her eyes dart up, biting her lower lip, "cute—i take it you used that hello-kitty guitar from earlier?" she wears an easy, half-lidded grin at the way you struggled to form the right words; she wasn't piss-drunk unlike you, who was practically watching everything blur and mold together, your mind hazy. your shoulders relax, as you nod, speaking up, "that same one, yes."

"and… there we go," megan drawls, her eyes flashing up back to yours, dropping the towel into the sink, and drying it off, "you are good to go." she whispers, giving you the cue to slide off the counter, and to face her. your hands find their way to your belt loops, as your eyes trace her figure, silence falling between the two of you.

"thanks," you stammer out, your cheeks and ears flushed, "for the help, and the compliments." you say, despite a little awkward, your tone was gentle and sincere, making her heart flutter and almost leap out of her chest. she shakes her head before dismissing it quickly.

"here wait, how about i take you for coffee this week? consider that a real apology for the stain," megan suggests, as she quickly slips out her lipstick. your eyebrows furrow, as she twists the cap off, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. the lipstick leaves a trail of marks onto some crumpled napkin on the counter, gliding across it, as she scribbles things down hurriedly. an ear-to-ear grin stretches her lips, as warmth spreads to your cheeks, her hand smacking the napkin onto your chest. exhaling, she drawls, her voice smooth and calm:

"text me when you're not busy."

PREV.　MASTERLIST.　NEXT.

A/N. :3 first written chap we are so 🆙🆙

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[official-wales]

My parents having been doing Welsh on Duolingo so they’ll understand me better. I really appreciate it and it’s awesome, but…

The ‘ti’/‘chi’ issue. I don’t know how many times I’ve explained the diffference but they can’t seem to grasp that ‘chi’ is plural and/or formal. I didn’t realise it would be so devastating to hear a loving parent end a phone call with ‘Caru chi’ and feeling like they’ve just referred to you as a stranger.

They’ve heard me say ‘Caru ti’ enough that they’ve adjusted it and know that i have an issue when they use ‘chi’. But they seem to think its northern or a mistake on the Duolingo course despite the fact I’ve told them otherwise (so they still get confused or call out my ‘bad’ grammar or ‘hyprocrisy’ when I say ‘Caru chi’ to refer to both of them, despite all my explanations)

It’s the ‘sut dych chi’s driving me mad now. I am not plural. I’m so single that I turned out aro/ace.

Maybe I should pretend we’re northern and introduce them to ‘chdi’… or would that make it worse?

Anyway there’s no question here I just wanted to rant about Duolingo’s Welsh course. Not that’s it’s fully awful, it’s lead to some… interesting Welsh language fanfiction on ao3

(Also congratulations to my mam. She’s English and well past the ideal age for learning a new language but she can almost hold conversations with me from Duolingo alone, and whenever she hears a phrase she thinks she could say in Welsh on TV she’ll repeat it to me and go ‘is that right?’)

This post is for your parents, in which I give full permission as Official-Wales for you to show them:

You've heard of the French tu and vous....

You've heard of the Italian tu and lei....

You've heard of all the Spanish ones that I do not understand yet, I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish....

Now get ready for the Welsh you......

Ti is singular and informal.

I'm talking to my good friend Dafydd. He is just one man. He is okay with this. I say "Sut wyt ti, Dafydd?" He does not respond, because I just made him up.

Chi is p l u r a l and formal.

I'm talking to my bosses. There are many of them, and I want to show them respect so that I can continue earning minimum wage. I say "Sut ydych chi, pawb?" They do not respond, because they do not care about employee welfare. When I return home, I ask my many cats "Sut ydych chi, pawb?" They do not respond, because they are cats and cannot speak Welsh.

This has been your Welsh pronoun lesson for today.

[mayapapaya33]

Well, I haven't read the origins comic yet, so I'll take your word for that. Some of the comic stuff is a bit wibbly on canon so I'm not sure if I do take it as campaign canon really, but I'll just go with it for the purposes of this conversation. (The fact that she never once mentions being run out of town by Yeza in the campaign makes that a little weird but sure ok. It also feels a little retconny to brush over her major fear that her family would reject her even if they DID know it was her under the curse, which was what was implied to be a big reason she stayed away in the campaign, in favor of it being because they DID chase her away based purely on what she looked like before she could say anything. It feels...strange. I'm not sure how I feel about it, I'll have to think about it. It just feels like after the fact justification of her staying away from them to me, but oh well. LET WOMEN BE FLAWED 2025! lol I am eventually going to get my hands on all of the origins comics, I just haven't done so yet.)

My point wasn't really a moral argument about Veth and Lilliana having done equally bad things in the world, obviously that's not true. I could have said It better, but I guess I just thought that was obvious and I was tired? lol, silly me. So to make it clearer: Veth is a hero who helped save the world, and Liliana fell in with a cult and did terrible things under the woefully misguided belief she was doing the right thing. I'm more saying I could see Veth turning out like Liliana if things went differently and their initial act of abandonment is fundamentally similar. Also, it's not just the hag thing btw, that was just the most obvious and memorable example I could reference and know everyone would know what I was talking about without writing a 5 page essay and hunting down obscure time stamps lol.

Another example was her stance in that discussion about justice and vengeance from ep 98 (26:26) with Caduceus. Cad basically said: Hey, going after criminals in the Empire sounds great if you can be smart about it, but if you're just doing it to make yourself feel better, I don't really see the point of that, so maybe don't because you'll probably restart the war if you aren't extremely careful. And Veth's response was very understandable from her characters pov, but makes me think that, yeah, in the right circumstances, she'll do what she wants, when she wants, and damn the consequences and it won't be about justice, it'll be about making herself feel good and she'll find the internal justification she needs to. "You can stand by -You can just watch bad people get away with it?" If the price of stopping one bad person is reigniting a WAR, um yeah, I can Veth. He's basically saying, don't cause more problems than you are going to fix by your actions, and interrogate your motivations and she wasn't having it. I think he might have gotten through to her in the end but I'm not sure because they "dissolved" using mouth sounds and hand waving into the next scene of Jester finding Marion.

There are many things that make me think this about her. Anger and desperation can cause people to make poor decisions. (I think you might have misconstrued the one bit where I was debating whether letting your family think you were dead and staying gone or just saying goodbye and abandoning them was actually worse or not, I personally vote dead being worse but I'm genuinely not sure, like I said. So, in that one aspect I think Veth's worse, but not for everything lol. The misguided hope left behind from what Liliana did might be worse.)

My point was that they both abandoned their families in order to solve a problem. Yes, Liliana left "voluntarily" right from the start in the sense that she wasn't kidnapped by goblins and transformed against her will, her "against her will change" was foisted upon her by a God Eater trapped in moon jail instead. She was essentially kidnapped by her own powers, she couldn't control them and needed to figure out what they were and how to deal with them. So yes, it was a choice for her to leave as you so aptly pointed out, just not quite as voluntary a choice as people keep presenting it as. I suppose it's more accurate for me to say it was Liliana's choice to leave, and Veth's choice to STAY gone (yes, even with the addition of the comic lore).

Don't you remember early campaign Imogen constantly having to be careful and worried about her telepathy? How it hurt her to be in large crowds? How her town DID treat her like garbage, like a pariah, "like an outright monster" even. It's not like Liliana left for fun. She was scared she was going to hurt someone if she didn't learn how to control herself, and worried that Imogen would develop those powers too. (That was her initial reasoning, and then things devolved of course). You said it yourself; The Grim Verity was taking too long, and she wanted to go home so she fell in with Ludinus and co because he promised answers and a solution.

Veth's initial separation from her family OBVIOUSLY wasn't her fault, and apparently in the comics she tried to go home and was run off for looking like a goblin. Well, that truly sucks for Comic Book Veth and she has my sympathy. There are still a variety of things she could have done, including once she befriended Caleb enough where she trusted him, have him go to Yeza in person and explain the curse and everything while she hid at the outskirts of town. She could have told Caleb a bunch of things only Veth would know to help convince Yeza, Etc.

At a certain point, Veth's Choice to stay away from her family was just as voluntary as Liliana's. She could have tried (or tried again if comics are canon) at any time, and she didn't. The problem wasn't solved so they "couldn't" go home and then events spiraled. Again, they aren't the same, I just think their situations parallel each other interestingly. Becoming "not a goblin" was not the only way for Veth to reunite with her family. It's perfectly understandable that she thought that it was considering all of her trauma and her shame and her fear, but that doesn't make it true. It was still an active choice that she made to not try to reunite with her family until she looked "normal" again, even once her circumstances had changed and she could have had help. She didn't try because she didn't want her family seeing her like that and because she was scared of what they would think. (Again, very understandable, but still a choice). What if Caleb couldn't find a way to change her back into a halfling? Would she never have gone home, continuing to look for a solution?

Liliana "couldn't" go home until she understood and could control her powers, a reasonable yet tragic decision, which then spiraled into it being that she "couldn't" go home until she helped "save" the world from the tyranny of the Gods, etc. Somewhat less reasonable I think you'll agree. How long does Veth's decision to not try (or not try again) to reunite with her family until she's no longer a goblin remain reasonable? One year? Five years? Ten years? It was a combination of luck and hard work that got her a new body as relatively fast as she did. Caleb and Essek meeting and becoming magic bffs might never have happened without Caleb's "I'm never going back to jail" moment in the Bright Queen's throne room for example lol.

More than all of that though, I'm not a huge fan of Veth's parenting while she IS present in Luc's life but seeing as Liliana hasn't really been present in Imogen's life for more than like a month, that's about where any parallels or comparisons stop lmfao. A lot of Veth's bad parenting once she's back in Luc's life is also due to the fact that Sam Riegel is a comedian first and an actor second so if he sees an opportunity to be funny, he'll pounce. Which unfortunately for poor Veth, does mean that if you look at her with a sober eye she comes across as a dreadful parent. Hilarious of course, but I did end up feeling bad for Yeza whenever I saw him futilely trying to be responsible whenever the M9 came trampling through their lives being bad influences. Honestly, she wonders why teenage Luc is like that! I learned it from watching you mom!

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[dunmeshistash]

ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 05

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Authors note: subtle yn lore gets dropped here…

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

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After Bakugou had been generous enough to help haul in your endless pile of boxes—a consequence of your admittedly irresponsible spending—it seemed he decided to spare you further torment by announcing his departure.

Something about heading to the training arena to "get some real work done."

Not that his presence was bad.

No, it was torturous in the best way possible!

The I-want-him-to-stay-in-my-room-forever-and-keep-calling-me-princess kind of way.

Did that sound crazy?

Even with your ever-growing crush on the blonde, you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you at his exit.

He’d seen you like this—flustered, fumbling, barely holding yourself together—had even insisted you put on those stupid glasses, and yet…

Somehow, it wasn’t as horrible as you expected.

A warm flutter settled in your chest at the realization. He hadn’t cared about your appearance, hadn’t picked you apart like so many others had. It was a refreshing change from the judgment you’d grown used to.

You never quite understood why people felt so comfortable talking about your looks.

You barely felt comfortable talking to people, period.

And yet, strangers—people who didn’t know a thing about you—felt entitled to comment.

Your figure was amazing. Your hair looked great. What diets had you gone on?

God…

Bakugou didn’t seem to care about any of that.

His focus had been on your vision—or lack thereof. A stupid little thing, but the fact that he didn't seem to care about your looks made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Now, left alone in the quiet of your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed, manicured fingers scrolling through your phone.

Your official account, @OfficiallyFlora, gleamed on the screen. The blue checkmark beside your username felt more like a weight than an accomplishment.

Your profile picture, an overly polished shot of you in your glittering hero costume—stared back at you. The flawless image, taken against a pristine white backdrop, was the product of your mother’s money and marketing efforts.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

Too pretty. Too refined. Too far from the girl sitting here now, sock clad in her bedroom, still reeling from the lingering scent of caramel and smoke that Bakugou had left behind.

Are your teeth really even that white in person?

You don’t know…

Your bio reads: Official Page of Pro-Hero Prospect Flora, making your hearts bloom with every step towards justice!

You sighed, rolling your eyes hard enough to strain something. The bio had been written by your mother’s PR team, dripping with saccharine energy that made you cringe every time you read it.

The rest of your feed wasn’t much better: high-definition shots of battles, cherry blossom-themed merch promotions, and glamorous magazine features.

It was a glossy, manufactured version of you that bore little resemblance to the person staring at the screen, glasses perpetually sliding down her nose.

Growing bored of the staged content, you switched to your private account.

Your followers on this one are, well. Your classmates, surprisingly enough, and one of your mother's pool boys who had asked for your Instagram years ago before you ever even had an official page in hopes of getting to talk to you more?!

You can't help but quirk a brow, you should really get him off your page...

Here, the photos were more personal: snapshots of your travels, close-ups of meals you’d enjoyed, and a random assortment of things that caught your eye.

The likes rarely climb beyond single digits, but it was real and a better representation of yourself than the other page.

A pang of curiosity struck as your fingers moved on autopilot, typing in Bakugou’s name.

His official account, curated by Best Jeanist’s team, popped up first. His posts were as structured as yours—action shots, hero promotions, and carefully orchestrated PR moves.

But unlike how you felt about your feed, his action shots were breathtaking.

One image, in particular, caught your attention: Bakugou holding a tiny kitten that had been stuck in a tree. His sharp features softened as he cradled the fluffy creature, his biceps bulging against his hero suit.

You snorted, amused by the juxtaposition. No matter how intimidating he looked, the sight of him with a kitten was almost too much.

Shaking your head, you scrolled through some of your classmates’ accounts. Their updates showed them at the beach, enjoying pizza nights, and huddled around a glowing campfire.

Seems like without Bakugou around to act as head chef, they had to order takeout instead.

You frowned, an unshakable pit forming in your stomach.

You drop your phone onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. Maybe what you needed was a nice meal—something indulgent to shake off the restless energy.

The thought of heading to the nearest convenience store for another pint of ice cream crosses your mind, the idea warm and tempting. But no.

Not this time.

Instead, maybe you could make an effort. Doll yourself up a bit, put on some makeup, and head out into town. Who needs a big group when you’ve got yourself?

Determined to follow through, you sit up and scan the endless boxes of your new purchases. Finally, you land on a little buttercup-yellow tweed Chanel set, complete with a mini skirt and cropped blazer.

You slip it on, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly and highlighting your silhouette in all the right places.

Hell, for this price point, it better do all of the above!

You turn to your vanity, reaching for your makeup bag. You opt for a soft, casual look—subtle yet radiant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. Twinkly in all the right places.

To complete the look, you sling a new ivory-colored purse over your shoulder. A cute yellow dandelion charm clipped to the side adds just the right touch of cuteness.

Standing in front of the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. You look polished, confident, like someone ready to take on the evening—even if it’s a solo adventure.

Maybe you’d check out that new sushi spot closer to home!

Yeah, it’s fine that your classmates wouldn’t join you! They'd probably just make you more anxious anyways.

But as you’re heading downstairs and toward the door, you suddenly freeze. A realization dawns on you.

Hajime has the weekend off.

You groan out loud. How are you going to get there? You can’t drive!

Frustration bubbles up, and you slap your forehead. Were you really this helpless? The thought makes you wince, embarrassment creeping in at the edges of your thoughts.

"If I speak, you gonna jump and scream again?" A voice, an irritatingly familiar voice announces his presence.

The familiar gruff voice startles you, and admittedly, you do almost scream. Holding it back though, you whirl around to see Bakugou having just walked out of the elevator behind you.

He seems freshly showered, with his hair still a bit damp, out and pushed back from his handsome face. You could smell him from where you're standing.

Ugh, delicious as usual.

“You did kind of surprise me,” you admit, voice sheepish as your eyes dart away from him.

His eyes roam over your figure quickly, though you don't notice the action over your own mourning of the evening.

“You’re going out?”

The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it, and if he could, he’d smack himself upside the head. Why the hell did he even ask? It’s obvious you are. And more importantly—why is he even starting a conversation in the first place?

Up until literally yesterday, you were just another classmate. Background noise. But these back-to-back interactions are becoming unavoidable, and unfortunately, you’re slipping out of the backdrop and into his world.

You shake your head, lips pulling into a soft, resigned smile. “Well, I was going to, but… I just realized I don’t have any way of getting there.”

“Hah? Can’t take the train?”

Heat blooms across your face, creeping down your neck. “Oh, well… I’ve never taken public transportation.”

There’s a beat of silence—just long enough for you to see the exact moment Bakugou short-circuits.

“Is that some shitty joke?”

You thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn hotter, but—oh, look at that! They can!

“I- um, well, no. It’s not.” You swallow, fiddling with the strap of your ivory purse. “Hajime’s driven me everywhere since I was little.”

He blinks, slowly. More in disbelief than anything.

“Hajime?”

You nod. “Yeah, um… my personal driver.”

For a second, you think he might actually roll his eyes. On anyone else, the whole spoiled rich kid routine would piss him off. But with you, it’s different.

Maybe it’s the way you look so flustered, like you’re embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s the way your voice dips, like you’re apologizing for just existing.

Either way, it leaves him feeling something weird—something dangerously close to wanting to help. Again.

Twice in one day. A world record, if he says so himself.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You wince, shoulders curling inward. “I know! It’s bad, okay? But it’s just how I was raised…”

How you were raised?

Bakugou’s brow lifts slightly. So what, you were raised to be a stay-at-home daughter? Spend money like it’s a full-time job?

He knows about your family. Everyone does.

A mother who inherited an entire hero firm from your grandparents—a dynasty so powerful its stocks and investments practically fuel Japan’s economy. And a father who died in the field before you were even born—a rising star in the hero world, gone far too soon.

Your mother, a young heiress to millions. Your father, a pro hero at the height of his career. Expecting their first child. A baby girl—you.

And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.

A mission gone wrong.

A hero lost.

Your father’s death sent shockwaves through the country, leaving Japan in mourning—not just for the man he was, but for the legend he never got the chance to become.

He doesn’t say anything right away—just stares at you with an unreadable expression that makes your stomach churn.

Then, without warning, he mutters, “Get your stuff. We’re going.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” He’s already pulling on his sneakers, his movements brisk and determined. “No way in hell am I letting you graduate from U.A. without knowing how to take a damn train. That’s pathetic.”

“Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”

“Second time today.” He cuts you off with a sharp look over his shoulder. “It’s already happening. Move it, princess.”

Your mouth opens, ready to argue—but the words die in your throat when you see the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze. He’s not going to back down.

You’re not sure what’s more overwhelming—the idea of taking your first train ride…

Or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one dragging you along for the ride.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he strides out of the dormitory, his natural pace effortlessly long and brisk. You almost trip trying to keep up, the heels of your boots clicking against the pavement.

God, why does he walk so fast?

“We’ve got a station down the block from the UA gates,” he says, barely glancing at you. “We’ll go to that one.”

You nod, stiff as a board. “Gotcha. So, um… where did you want to go?”

His blonde brow arches, the side of his lip curling like you just said something unbelievably stupid. “What? This isn’t about me. This is about teaching you how to get on a damn train.”

You wince, embarrassed. “Right. That makes sense.”

The two of you walk in relative silence, the crisp evening air settling over you like a thin veil.

The streets leading to the station aren’t crowded, but there are enough people out that you can feel the occasional passing glance—whether they recognize you as a hero-in-training or simply because you look like you don’t belong in a place as mundane as a train station, you’re not sure.

Your perfectly tailored blazer, Italian leather purse, and neatly manicured nails feel almost too polished for the scuffed pavement beneath your feet.

Bakugou, on the other hand, fits in seamlessly.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his comfy sweatpants loose around his legs and tight at his waist.

He looks completely at ease, like this is just another part of his day—meanwhile, your heartbeat is rattling in your ears at the thought of navigating a train station for the first time.

After a few minutes, you reach the station entrance, the underground stairway yawning open before you. A few commuters shuffle past, swiping their cards at the turnstiles, moving like they’ve done this a million times.

You, however, stay frozen at the top of the stairs.

Bakugou doesn’t notice at first, too busy pulling out his own train pass. But when he looks up and sees you still standing there, brows drawn tight with hesitation, he sighs.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, exasperation flickering in his red eyes. “It’s just a staircase, princess.”

“I know it’s just a staircase,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing down at the tiled steps leading into the station.

You’ve never been in one of these before, never had to navigate the organized chaos of public transport, never had to think about swiping a train card or picking a route.

A ridiculous thought hits you—you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you don’t know how to take a train… or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one who has to teach you.

You bite your lip, it's silly and you know it. “What if I mess up?”

Bakugou stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he snorts.

“With that attitude, you’re definitely gonna mess up. Sour face you got going on”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

His smirk is almost smug. “But that’s the whole damn point. You mess up, you figure it out, and then you won’t be a clueless dumbass next time.”

You scowl. “Your motivational speeches suck.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes before nudging your shoulder—just a small push, barely enough to make you step forward, but it’s enough to shake you out of your own head.

“Come on,” he mutters, starting down the stairs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You inhale sharply and, with no other choice, follow him down.

The air shifts as you descend—cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of rails and the distant hum of an approaching train. Your grip tightens around the strap of your purse, nerves bubbling in your chest.

Why is everything so loud down here?!

Bakugou moves ahead, seamlessly navigating through the turnstiles. He scans his card with an effortless flick of his wrist, stepping through without hesitation.

You, on the other hand, stop in front of the machine, frowning at it like it’s a puzzle you weren’t given the pieces to.

Bakugou turns, watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he drawls.

You glance at the screen, then back at your card. “Do I just… tap it?”

“No, you rub it on the damn thing and hope it opens.”

Your glare is sharp, but you say nothing, instead hesitantly pressing the card against the sensor. The gate beeps, unlocking with a mechanical click.

You blink. That’s it?

“Wow, you did it.” Bakugou’s tone is mockingly slow, like he’s congratulating a toddler for taking their first steps.

You don’t know how, when, or what possesses you with a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out, shoving his shoulder.

His muscled frame barely budges under your touch, solid beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He snorts, a short chuckle slipping out as he steps toward the platform, the train’s arrival chime ringing through the station.

Then, as you approach the edge of the platform, a realization slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“…Wait.” You stop in your tracks, eyes widening. “How do I know which train to take?”

Bakugou exhales so deeply it sounds like his soul is actively trying to escape his body.

“God help me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying something he’ll regret.

For the first time today, you swear he actually looks pained.

Oh lord. Oh good grief. If you were just about anybody else right now, Bakugou wouldn’t just be snapping—he’d be out of here so fast, you’d be left choking on smoke.

The fact that a pro-hero-in-training, someone who’s supposed to be saving lives, has never taken a damn train is the kind of thing that should be illegal.

So why is he still here?

Why hasn’t he turned on his heel, thrown up his hands, and left you to fend for yourself like any rational, self-respecting person would?

He blinks, his gaze lingering on your face, and for a brief moment—so fast you almost miss it—you swear there’s something unreadable flickering behind those sharp red eyes.

Maybe it’s the way your lashes frame your doe-like eyes, dark and long, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks. Curse you and your stupid, stupid eyes. Is this some kind of second quirk? A hypnosis ability?

Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the way you fidget without realizing it.

Your hands twist together, fingers tangling like they’re trying to hold onto something steady.

Absentmindedly, you twirl the diamond-encrusted eternity band on your index finger, turning it over and over in a nervous rhythm. It catches the dim station light, flashing every time you spin it.

Bakugou’s gaze follows the movement, and something about the unconscious gesture makes his scowl deepen.

“…Tch.” He clicks his tongue, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You really are helpless, huh?”

The words are gruff, edged with frustration, but he still doesn’t walk away.

Instead, he takes a step toward you, nodding toward the digital display overhead. The glowing letters flicker slightly, listing station names, times, and train lines in a way that makes your head spin.

“C’mon, dumbass. I’ll show you how to read the damn schedule before you get yourself lost in the middle of the city.”

Relief washes over you as you quickly follow his lead. “Ah, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me… just pay attention.”

And you do. You pay such good attention that by the time you finally grasp how the whole system works, you’re practically bouncing on your heels in excitement, a bright grin stretching across your face.

You stand on the platform, buzzing with a newfound confidence, while Bakugou—looking as perpetually unimpressed as ever—waits beside you with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.

Then, the distant hum of the train grows louder, and soon enough, the sleek cars pull into the station with a sharp metallic whir.

The doors slide open, and you eagerly step forward, your heeled boots clicking against the platform as you move inside. Bakugou follows closely behind, scanning the interior in one quick glance.

The train is relatively full—enough that only one open seat remains near the doors. Without hesitation, Bakugou nudges you toward it.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto the nearest safety pole as the doors begin to close.

You shake your head, brushing him off. “I’m okay.”

He scoffs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “The train moves fast and isn’t super smooth. I’m sure you don’t wanna go through all that with those on.”

You glance down at your shoes—sleek, heeled boots, stylish but sturdy. Your lips curve into a small smile.

“I’ll have you know my hero costume boots are even higher than these.”

His brow arches slightly, the hint of sarcasm sparking in his eyes. “Yeah? I’m impressed, considering how fast you ran away from me on day one.”

Oh, hell.

Heat creeps up your neck at the reminder, your confidence faltering for a split second. But you recover quickly, squaring your shoulders with a dramatic huff.

“Wow, Bakugou Katsuki, impressed? By little ol’ me?” You place a hand over your heart, feigning exaggerated awe. “It’s an honor.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but there’s something unreadable in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer.

Then, the train lurches forward.

Despite all your earlier bravado, you do wobble slightly—just enough for Bakugou’s smirk to return in full force.

“…Told you to sit, dumbass.”

But you can’t.

Not because you’re too stubborn. Not because you’re still trying to prove a point.

But because—oh.

A singular, large hand is suddenly tight on your waist, steadying you with an effortless grip.

Oh my.

Who needs a safety rail when Pro Hero Dynamight is holding you like this?!

You internally scream, the realization hitting you all at once. The touch itself isn’t anything crazy—it’s barely even a thing, just a reflex, something automatic, instinctual. Nothing compared to the absolute torture of this morning’s, uh, straddling situation.

And yet, this feels just as bad—if not worse.

Why? Because Bakugou, in all his brash, loud, obnoxious glory, doesn’t even seem to realize he’s still holding onto you.

His grip is firm, warm even through the thick expensive fabric of your clothes, and worst of all? It lingers.

Still there.

Still present.

Still burning through your skin like a brand.

Oh, hell.

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[universalzones]

"Well, maybe at one point she could retire from being a thief and just live a nice and peaceful life. You never know, right?" Belle couldn't ignore the now building tension in the room after Kitsunami's rather hostile words so thought it best try to keep the focus on something positive or at the very least keep the subject off of Eggman. Though why did she feel like it wouldn't change much.

"Yes, because Eggman is completely the same way, expect for the fact he's only ever helped just to save himself or to serve his own self interests. You can try to put the blame on Starline, though let's be honest, if Eggman wasn't around would Starline have even turned out the way he did?" Kitsunami knew this wasn't helping anything, just arguing for the sake of arguing at this point, though he couldn't understand how Sonic can still stand by his choice after all the damage it's caused.

===========================================================

"Well, I suppose I have the advantage of my speed and power, along with inheriting my mother's ability to a small degree. It allows me to foresee one's attacks, to a limit degree that is." Blaze could only see a couple moves as her mouth could see an entire battle just by looking at one and plan to counter ever single move. Though now was hardly the time to think about that. The feline wondered if she should have someone from Sol she trusts looking for Starline as well.

"I'm unsure the process of events if I'm being honest. However, I believe I was attacked before Surge and Kitsunami as when he attempted to attack me he seemed a tad more, unstable, if I were to put it. Perhaps that is another factor to take into how I dealt with him so easily. Even if he had that strange glove powering him." Blaze wished she has paid closer attention to details as at the time Starline was more of an annoyance than a threat, at least to her.

"I feel bad for saying this, though it could give us another advantage for making sure there's no doubt Kitsunami won't be arrested or even charged. If Starline is still alive then there's a chance he could attempt to get Surge and Kitsunami back on his side. In a sense G.U.N gets Surge as bait, though they'd more than likely keep an eye on Kitsunami as he could be considered an easier target than one locked in a G.U.N prison."

Blaze truly felt awful using this sort of logic, though it was certainly a good point that even this Commander Lupus could come up with. Not putting all your eggs in one basket as the saying goes. If Starline goes after Surge G.U.N can respond quickly and harshly, and if he goes after Kitsunami then they can spring in a surprise visit and have him cornered between them and The Restoration.

It wasn't that he trusted her as much as he knew where she stood in times of duress. Rouge might have been a thief, and a criminal but she was also still one of them. She didn't want Eggman or Starline to be in power anymore then they did. She was coerced into working with GUN and so had no real love of them either. Trust was probably to strong a word for how he felt about that bat. It was more of a mutual understanding. That and she'd saved there bacon to many times for them to hate her.

" it's always a risk to trust Rouge, and she's likely to have her own agenda. But even with all that said, she's bailed us out to many times for me to hold any harsh feelings..."

" What Miles said... Rouge has always done right by us when it counted. She has to play both sides, to keep Tower off her case but... if i ever needed her i'm sure she'd show. Besides... I'm about 90% sure she was who let the Chaotix know about Tinker. If we hadn't been there Shadow would have offed him..."

His eyes went to Kit who he knew would have harsh words about that decision.

" Some folks still say i shoulda let shadow do the deed. But i still stand by my decision... the real criminal was always Starline... i think we can all agree on that "

==============================================

Lanolin wasn't so sure she agreed with Blaze on her perspective. Based on what Surge and Kitsunami told her, and all the files she'd read. Starline was a cunning adversary, who was always 20 steps ahead of everyone else. The real question in her mine was why attack blaze? what was he after? did they just cross paths by mistake? how did he survive his fight with eggman? was it really starline or maybe some copy cat?

" If there is anyone i'd consider to be near as dangerous as eggman it was---is Starline. He created Surge and Kitsunami... nearly replicating Sonic's speed and Mr. Prowers intellect and more. I think we'd be foolish to assume this attack was some vain attempt to defeat you... "

" Alerting GUN is probably wise, even if we aren't on equal terms now. Neither of us want Someone like him running around doing who knows what. As for Surge... i can't keep this from her or Kitsunami... i just worry they'll break this deal and flee... with intent to settle the score. honestly i don't even blame them... "

She sighed and looked rather somber as she stared out the window to the group below.

" Both of them have put some amount of trust in me. I've grown fond of them both as strange as that sounds. If i kept this from them they'd never forgive me... and i'd betray there trust... No, Once Surge returns i'll tell them. I owe them that much..."

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝙆𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝘽𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙎 𝘿𝙄𝘾𝙆

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂.

You were at the beach when you saw JJ Maybank with his Pogue friends. “Ugh, here comes them dirty Pogue’s.” Your best friend said. You had very dark sunglasses so no one could tell who you were really looking at. Your eyes falling onto none other than JJ Maybank himself. You’ve heard things about the boy. That he’s a criminal, that he’s bad, but one thing that did stick with some girls. Was that he’s good in bed and that his dick was long. As much as you wanted to give it a try. Your best friend would kill you if she ever knew how bad you wanted JJ Maybank out of all Boys. Out of Rafe Cameron. He just wasn’t the man you wanted. Rafe wanted you, always did, but you were never interested in the Cameron and all that he is. He’s not who you wanted to jump its bone.

Later that day, you were alone at your house, as your parents went out of town. It was only you and the housekeeper. “Here you go Ms. Valentina. Your chocolate covered strawberries.” Martha told you as she sets them down. You smiled at her and thanked her as she nods. The doorbell rings and you stand up. “I’ve got it, you’re good to go Martha.” You told her since she lives in the back house in your house, she nods and she walks away from you, to make sure it’s all cleaned up, and went to her home. You went over to the door and opened it. Your breath hitching as it was none other than JJ Maybank standing at your door with bags of groceries on each of his hands and you looked down at his hands to look at the groceries

“What are you doing here, Maybank.” You asked him as you looked at him up and down. He definitely is very attentive. “Weekly groceries from Hayward.” He said as you pursed your lips nodding your head. You open the door wider to let the Maybank inside of your home. “Follow me.” You told him as he followed after you. You had completely forgotten you were wearing a tanning bikini, without looking back you felt a blush come on to your cheeks as you knew his ocean blue eyes were stuck on your plumped ass cheeks, and you smirked and purposely started swaying your hips more. Both of you entered the kitchen and you told him where to put the bags, and you immediately did start putting them away, as you didn’t mind it at all.

JJ was about to walk away, but you stopped him. “Hey, wait up.” He turned around to look at you finished putting the strawberries away, looking over at him smiling. “You accept tips. Or whatever?” You asked him and he scoffed. “What? I can’t do a nice thing?” You asked him confused. “Well, you’re a Kook.” He told you making scoff as you rolled your eyes. “Just because I was born with money doesn’t mean! I’m like the rest.” You told JJ as it was his turn to look his eyes at you. “Every Kook is exactly alike.” He said as you pursed your lips nodding your head.

“I am nothing like them, just because I hang out with them, doesn’t mean I’m like them.” She told him.

“Aren’t you like Rafe’s girlfriend?” He asked you as you gagged. “Ew, no. He was a one time mistake.” You told him shivering at the fact that you let Rafe’s hands on your body. He didn’t even satisfy you good enough. “Everyone says otherwise.” He said to her and she laughed. “He’s obsessed it’s all.” She told him. “Wait, why am I even explaining myself to you.” You scoffed as you walked back outside the pool to grab your most favorite snack. Chocolate covered strawberries. “Why don’t you just date him?” He asked you making you scoff as you grabbed your plate, putting a strawberry in your mouth. “I would never stoop that low. He scars me.” She told the boy.

You walked back into your house and placed the plate on the counter of the kitchen. The suddenly you gasped, jumping as you felt hands on your hips. “What about me?” He whispered against your ear, making your eyes close as he lightly kissed your ear lob. You gulped as you turned around towards him as you pushed him away. “W-What about you?” You asked him as you went towards the fridge opened it to grab a bottle of water as you were feeling hot, not only from the humid, outer banks heat, but also the fact that you wanted to push JJ back on to one of the chairs in your kitchen and ride him until his soul leaves his body. You opened the bottle and took a gulp out of it. You turned your body towards him when you didn’t feel like you were blushing anymore.

“You really think I don’t see you looking at me?” He asked with a lower voice as he walked over to you. “Don’t know what y-you’re talking about.” You said to him. He was right in front of you, but you didn’t move at all. “Is it that, you a Kook bitch wants this Pogue dick?” He whispered so close to you. “Just, fuck me.” You told him and he didn’t hesitate to close the gap between both of you in a heated kiss. His hands went down, reaching your thighs as he picked you up, off the floor and placed you against the kitchen counter.

His fingers immediately working on taking off your bikini top, slipping it off your chest area as he pulled away, his blue eyes falling onto your hardened pink nipples, his fingers grazing it, making you softly gasp at the feeling of his cold finger tips grazing them. Your head leans back biting your lip as you feel him grab your nipple between his teeth as his hand goes on to your bikini bottom’s string and pulls them down he pulls away as he pulls them off and throws them to the side. Leaving you completely naked in front of him. You then reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it off his body tossing it to the side as well as his short trunks, leaving him in only his boxer shorts.

JJ then crashes his lips on you again as his hands spread open your legs more wide, pulling away he kissed down your neck, down your body as his arms wrapped around your legs and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter making you gasp, your legs on his shoulders, making you whimper and your body twitch as you left his mouth on your inner thighs as he lightly nips them. Then he kissed his way up your wet pussy, he placed a light kiss on top of your pussy lips. “JJ, please.” You moaned spreading your pussy lips open, his tongue did a long swipe of your juices.

“Fuck.” Your head fell back as the blonde boy started eating you out. “Ahh! JJ!” Your body shook as you left like you were in heaven. Your hand reached over, putting your fingers through his blonde locks as you pulled him in deeper as your hips moved along with the way his tongue was flickering your bundle of nerves. Your moaning was loud because of the fact that no one was home, and it felt so good you didn’t want it to end. JJ pulled away and stood up as he crashed his lips against yours making you moan as you taste yourself. His fingers were next to grazed ypur pussy lips, going up and down your wetness, making your body jerk at the sensation of his fingers.

He then pulled away and both of you looked into each other’s eyes. “You want this, you Kook slut?” He said making you moan as his finger grazed your hole. “Yes, I want it.” You told him, his finger slips inside of you. “Aah!” You moaned as he just looked at you and the faces you made as his fingers ended up inside of you tight walls. Him telling you how tight your pussy felt, and how he couldn’t wait until his cock was inside of you. His fingers curling inside of you in ways you’ve never experienced in your life, the way your body shook as you felt your first orgasm approach you faster then you thought, the way he would look into your eyes as you finally let out the biggest most sweetest moans he’s ever heard as your body shook in pure pleasure as your pussy walls flutter against his fingers. “Fuck! Aah!!” You tried gripping something but you couldn’t find anything to grip.

So your nails scratched the marble surface as you moaned his name. Finally you slumped, breathing heavily, but you weren’t done. Your hand reached over to JJ and pulled down his boxer shorts, your eyes widen at how long he actually was. They weren’t lying about it. “Fuck me, please.” You told him but he paused. “I don’t have a, uh.” He cleared his throat as you sigh. “I’m on the pill.”you told him and he looked at you in question. “I’m on a pill dude, now hurry.” You told him and he didn’t waist anymore time on it.

He lined himself up on your entrance and pushed inside making you let out a moan as he stretched you out. JJ groaning as he filled up your tight pussy. His hands spreading your legs more open, into the air as he bottomed out. Leaning back on your hands you both looked into each other as he pulled out, the tip of his dick being the only thing inside of you, he went and slammed into you making your body jerk and you gasp so loud as he didn’t waist anymore time and started slamming into you in a fast pace, not giving you time to adjust onto his size but you didn’t care. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” JJ gritted his teeth hard.

He watched how your chest bounce along with his thrust. “Harder!” Your body shook as he went to grip your hips hard as his thrust got even faster and hard. “Fuck! Shit!” You reached down to rub on your clit to make your orgasm come faster. “Let it go, baby.” JJ groaned as he felt himself get closer to his climax as well. You let out a gasp, throwing your head back as your walls clenched on JJ as your legs shook, JJ lets out a grunt as he pulled up quickly, releasing onto your stomach. Shots flying into your chest as he moaned. Slowly down JJ backed into the island and he watched as you grabbed his release with your finger and looked at him as you licked your fingers.

Breathing heavily JJ groaned as you did that. “You want to get me hard again?” He asked you as you got off the counter, stumbling a little bit as your legs felt wobbly. “I wouldn’t mind a second round.” She said.

She walked away, grabbing her swimsuit looking over her shoulder at the blonde.

“You down with another round in the shower?” She asked him. JJ immediately nods and went after her as she started to run up the stairs giggling as he laughed following after the girl going into her room.

Spending the rest of the day inside her room with the doors locked and fucking the day away.

[sturniolo-1fan]

hi guys, i just wanted to come out and say something about @sturniololuv08. i have her blocked just for safety and i just don’t want any issues involving her any more, this is also a burner blog— not my real one.

i understand this isn’t at all as impactful as it was on the other victims and i’m sorry if this is seemingly whiny but i just want to get this out.

this was before i knew she was 28 and a weirdo. i am just 14, meaning i’m a minor, it’s stated on my blog for my safety and to not make others uncomfortable about age differences. no where on her page does it state her age, i checked.

i posted something about my writing, worried it was bad. in my comments, she explained she could help me write better smut. i naively agreed, thinking this would be friendly bonding in the writing community.

these are the first dms. again, this was before i knew she was weird and i saw her weirder fan fictions. at first, i assumed she was just another friendly writer. i thanked her and i thought that was the end of that.

but, then she continued. i understand she warned me before but she never specified. that question made me severely uncomfortable, i only answered to see if she’d help with my writing.

she had to have seen my age, written in my intro post as well as my bio. you have to go to someone’s blog to dm them, meaning she definitely saw the fact i’m a minor.

i feel like that’s weird to say to a minor, and in the end that question had nothing to do with anything we talked about afterwards.

again, this is nothing serious. it made me uncomfortable but nothing that compares to the other victims. i am so sorry for all of you guys and this is genuinely messed up. i’m just sharing my personal experience. thank you for reading. 💖

[daenerys-apolog1st]

My Thoughts on the Driftmark Situation

So, first of all, I feel like it's important to note in this situation that everyone involved in the initial fight was a CHILD---Luce was 4-5, Jace was 6-7, we can assume that Baela and Rhaena were of similar ages to them, and Aemond was 11-12. It's ridiculous to expect children, especially grieving children who just lost their mother, to act logically and with the same maturity/emotional intelligence as grown ass adults---children are children and they're going to react to things as such, which often means they're going to go with their gut reactions, which means they're going to make mistakes and stupid decisions.

Aemond, when claiming Vhagar, wasn't thinking at all about- "hey, Baela and Rhaena's mom just died and this was her dragon, it'd probably be a dick move to claim it on the NIGHT OF HER FUNERAL" -he was just thinking that he didn't have a dragon, here was a dragon, and he wanted it. His thoughts didn't extend to anyone else, anything else, or the fact that it was incredibly dangerous for him to be doing that.

Baela and Rhaena, when waking up Jace and Luce to go confront Aemond, were not thinking- "hey, it'd probably be unfair to go confront and/or fight Aemond for claiming Vhagar, and this is probably a situation we should talk to our parents/grandparents about" -they were thinking that their mother just died and someone just stole her dragon, one of the few things they have of her, which they wanted to try and let Rhaena claim since she didn't have one. Their thoughts didn't extend to whether or not confronting Aemond was a bad idea, just that they were angry and upset.

Jace and Luce, when woken up, weren't thinking- "hey, we should go get a trusted adult to help us figure this out" -they were thinking that Baela and Rhaena were angry and upset, that they needed help, so they went to help them. Furthermore, in the fight, Luce wasn't thinking- "ah yes, I want to cut out Aemond's eye as punishment and because I'm an asshole" -he was thinking that Aemond was threatening his brother's life, he was scared, and he needed to protect him---he didn't aim for his eye on purpose, it was a gut move done to try and protect his brother and it just so happened to hit his eye.

Again, these were CHILDREN, they weren't thinking with the same level-headedness or maturity that we should expect from adults---everything that happened was an accident, and I place the blame firmly on the ADULTS in the situation.

Firstly, WHERE WERE THE KNIGHTS?

We know that Criston Cole was supposed to be on the night's watch, but clearly he wasn't doing his job if one of the king's sons can sneak out into the middle of nowhere and claim a dragon, the king's grandsons and his nieces can sneak out of the castle as well, and all five of them can get in a brawl.

Even excluding him, though, where were the other knights on watch? Seriously, where were they? None of it would've happened if they were doing their damn jobs, if I were Viserys I would've sent everyone who was supposed to be on watch to the Wall and found different knights to protect me and my blood because CLEARLY the guys I've got don't give a damn.

From there, though, I think that the other adults---mainly Alicent, but also Rhaenyra---handled things completely wrong.

Firstly, to everyone that says- "oh Viserys didn't care about Aemond getting hurt, he didn't do anything about it" -did y'all forget the part where he was livid and RAILING against the guards for allowing the fight to happen? For allowing "his blood" to get hurt? Him literally shouting at them at the top of his lungs asking what the fuck happened? That seems pretty angry to me.

Viserys, surprisingly, was like the only adult aside from Corlys and Rhaenys- (who were focused on making sure Baela and Rhaena were okay) -that actually handled the situation the way it should've been handled---which is definitely a shocker, considering how he usually handles things. Viserys blamed the ADULTS in the situation who allowed it to happen---what Team Green calls him "not caring/doing nothing" is him not being willing to carve out his 4-5 year old grandson's eye for an accident.

Which then brings me to everything else that happened.

Alicent was 100% in the wrong here.

Was it wrong for her to be angry and upset that her child was hurt? Absolutely not, I'd expect nothing less from a mother.

Was it wrong for her to go after a 4-5 year old with a knife? Yes, I don't even know why this is a discussion.

Alicent spent every day of her children's lives sewing hatred in them, insulting and mistreating Rhaenyra and her children, and spreading rumors that could get Rhaenyra and her children killed---yet somehow she's surprised when her children repeat what she's taught them and that gets them in trouble. Viserys told her to shut the fuck up about bastardy and backed up Rhaenyra's kids as legit- (which they were in every way that mattered, as detailed in my post here) -which should've been the end of it, but Alicent didn't shut up and she's shocked that Viserys is pissed that now she has their kids repeating her bullshit?

Viserys didn't yell at Aemond, like TG said he did, he asked him a question about who was spreading the bastard rumors. Furthermore, Rhaenyra didn't say Aemond should be tortured, she said "questioned sharply" in a defensive response to Alicent saying that they should take Luce's eye out---it wasn't a genuine want to harm Aemond, it was an attempt to get the attention off of Luce.

Even Aemond, who is literally the one injured here, tells Alicent to stop and that he doesn't care about his eye because he got a dragon out of it anyway---could he be lying? Sure, but even if he was it shows that he wanted Alicent to stop what she was doing, since we can assume that IF he was lying he was doing it to calm her down/end the situation.

Alicent is the one making things worse and escalating things here and, again, while I don't blame her for being angry and upset and protective, I DO blame her for trying to maim a toddler for something he didn't do on purpose and ONLY did because he thought his brother's life was in danger.

If she wanted to be pissed at someone she should've been pissed at Criston and the other knights who, again, were supposed to be watching those kids---the only reason any of this happened was because they weren't doing their damn jobs. Hell, she could've theoretically even directed her anger at Rhaenyra or Viserys or Corlys or ANY of the other adults in the room, but instead she directed her anger at a CHILD and wanted said child harmed to soothe her anger. That isn't excusable and I'm not going to pretend it is.

And two other things that not a lot of people mention before I move on:

1. Alicent was cruel towards the Velaryon family in this situation as well. Corlys and Rhaenys had just buried their DAUGHTER, Laenor had just buried his SISTER, and yet the first thing she does when someone asks where Laenor is is imply that he's not only having sex---of all things---but with LITTLE BOYS. She is a guest in the Velaryon household, yet she disrespects their son who is very obviously torn apart and grieving his sister, on THE NIGHT OF SAID SISTER'S FUNERAL. Like it's clear that she doesn't give a shit about decorum or kindness or whatever else her stans claim, she'll just take any chance to take a shot at Rhaenyra's loved ones.

And 2. people go on and on about how terrible a father Viserys was because he "yelled at Aemond" (aka asked him a question), but Alicent literally slapped, yelled at, and blamed Aegon for the situation when he was literally also a kid who shouldn't have been held responsible for something he didn't even know was going on! I don't think Viserys was a good father either, but at least hold Alicent to the same parenting standards if you're gonna use Driftmark as an example.

Moving on-

My main gripe with Rhaenyra in this situation is that she should've kept her mouth shut.

After Viserys handled the situation and, mostly, calmed everything down, making that- "thank you, father" -comment was a potshot and I personally think she did it because, after Alicent tormenting her for 10+ years, she wanted to throw it in her face that Viserys wouldn't just let her do ANYTHING she wanted---even if he did give her a lot of leeway. Still, whatever the reasons, Rhae should've just let it be and left with her kids instead of making that comment and intentionally antagonizing Alicent.

We don't know if Alicent would've tried to maim Luce if Rhaenyra didn't make the comment, I personally could see it go either way, but Rhaenyra making that comment ENSURED that Alicent went for the knife. Maybe Rhaenyra didn't know exactly what Alicent would do, but I find it hard to believe that Rhaenyra didn't think she'd do SOMETHING in retaliation. Again, Rhaenyra should've just kept quiet.

Afterwards, though, when Alicent goes for Luce and starts making her speech, I am again on Rhaenyra's side.

Alicent says that she has done nothing but uphold the realm and the family, and that she has sacrificed everything to do so---which, frankly, isn't true. While I 100% sympathize with her situation when she was younger, especially given that she was essentially pimped out to an old man by her father, Alicent is a grown woman by this time and her actions as an ADULT have only been petty, cruel, and led them down a path to war and suffering.

Alicent has done nothing but split their family apart---from tormenting Rhaenyra and her family for 10+ years, to spreading the bastard rumors, spitting in the face of Rhaenyra's every attempt to make peace, publically humiliating Rhaenyra several times, filling Aegon and Aemond's heads with hate for their family, plotting to usurp Rhaenyra's throne, insulting her family behind their backs, and on and on. THAT'S NOT UPHOLDING THE FAMILY!

And upholding the Realm? Alicent has been plotting with Otto for years at that point to usurp Rhaenyra and put Aegon on the throne, and she's known about Otto's plans for even longer than that, KNOWING that usurping the throne will likely lead to war---something that will make the realm suffer in far more ways than one, and something that never really ends well. Again, that's not upholding the Realm, that's fucking it over.

And Alicent asking- "where is duty? where is sacrifice?" -is about her essentially being angry and hateful that Rhaenyra didn't lay down and suffer beside her, that Rhaenyra managed to find happiness in a patriarchal society and didn't bow to the whims of men, she fought and refused to accept the unfairness---she believed that she deserved more than to just be a wife or a broodmare, and she reached for it.

Alicent didn't find happiness in her situation and didn't reach for any sort of freedom for herself, and so she was essentially left with nothing. That is what she's mad about, that she did "everything right" and is still unhappy but Rhaenyra did what was expected of her, albeit in unconventional manners and---to Alicent---the "wrong way," and found happiness. Alicent wanted Rhaenyra to suffer WITH her, not to find happiness and some level of freedom within her confines.

Alicent is jealous of her and wants to tear her down, and because of that she doesn't see all the sacrifices that Rhaenyra DID make and also doesn't see that she could make the system work for her as well if only she'd TRY.

Rhaenyra was forcefully married to a man she didn't want, Rhaenyra lost her best friend as well as her lover in the same night and had to find her footing when there was no one she could trust, Rhaenyra overcame her debilitating fear of childbirth to provide the Realm with heirs, she and Laenor---who both did not like each other in that way, and Laenor was GAY---did try to have kids but it's implied that he's infertile so she also slept with a man she didn't want to try and do her duty, she put up with Alicent's rumors and torment and public humiliation, she even tried to make peace with Alicent despite EVERYTHING and bring the family together.

Rhaenyra did make sacrifices and did try to uphold the family and do her duty to the realm, but Alicent couldn't see that.

Alicent herself was queen, she didn't have to bow to the whims of the society she was in---she could've bent the rules a little, she could've accepted Rhaenyra's attempts at peace and tried to rebuild their relationship, she could've shut her father's conspiracies down and not allowed him to control her, she could've done the same to Larys, she could've tried to find love or---at the very least---a little peace in her life, she could've let Rhaenyra ascend the throne and BE the good queen she believed she would've been, she could've let Aegon and Aemond and Helaena live their lives in peace instead of war.

She didn't have to bow to society's expectations, she had power, she could've done that and it would've been fine! Good, even! But she couldn't see that either.

Alicent's prison was one that, after a certain point, she built herself---and she had the key to get out but wouldn't use it. Instead, she threw it out the window and blamed Rhaenyra for not doing the same. That's what that whole speech was about, not anything that Rhaenyra had actually done, not the fight, not even Aemond's eye. It was about her jealousy.

Rhaenyra's response is a culmination of all the abuse that she's suffered at Alicent's hands over the past decade coming to light- "now they see you as you are" -now everyone sees what you really think, what you've been trying to hide, now I and everyone else know that the things you've done to me have been intentionally cruel and petty and you can't hide that behind excuses anymore. You don't care about "the family" or the realm or honor or bastardy or duty or sacrifice or right or wrong, all you care about is having me suffer alongside you for the crime of fighting for more.

And, after all of that, Alicent injures the HEIR TO THE THRONE---queen or not, that's grounds for execution, especially given that Alicent is only apart of the ruling family by marriage. But we can assume that Viserys let it go because he loved Alicent and because he wanted the whole situation over and done with, he didn't want to deal with it because---again---it's that lack of backbone that keeps popping up with him.

Overall, I just think this whole situation could've been avoided if people had just done their fucking jobs and I think Team Green purposefully misrepresent what happens on Driftmark because 1. they want to be able to justify Aemond murdering Luce, even though it's not justifiable, 2. it actually shows Viserys caring about ALL of his family, including the Greens, and 3. it makes Alicent look bad.

But just as a general rule, how about we all stop blaming the kids, yeah?

[alpaca-clouds]

How do gods, vampires and the afterlife work in Castlevania?

Okay, now with Castlevania: Nocturne season 2 I absolutely get to speculate a bit more about how the worldbuilding in the world of this anime actually works.

To catch everyone up with my speculations up until this point, let me quickly get you to speed. So far I assumed the following:

Vampires in this world probably go back to some sort of magic or alchemy, which has to have happened before 1500 BC (given that we know Morana was turned around that time).

There is only one afterlife, where every soul ends up, no matter what they believed in and what they did in life.

At least the "old gods" are real, possibly by some variation of the "clap your hands if you believe" rules. Meaning: It is possible that gods have started to exist, because people believed in them.

So, let me quickly go over the different aspects - on the basis of what we now know from Nocturne season 2.

Vampires

Now, we definitely do not get any answer so far with the question of where vampires come from in this universe. But we got a confirmation for a suspicion that I had all the time: There were not vampires in the Americas before colonial contact. (Though I might note, that this also means that the excuse a variety of people used to make up for the fact that the first four seasons had tomatoes and bell peppers - vampires had already been to America - was also wrong.)

In Nocturne we also do not only see one person being turned into a vampire, but in fact three different people. Tera, Drolta and Mizrak.

From this we can gather that generally speaking the universe works under the established rule of the "baptism of blood", as established in the Dracula novel. Meaning: If a vampire wants to turn someone else into a vampire, that person usually needs to be bitten first, before needing to drink the blood of the vampire. This seems to hold true for Tera and Mizrak at least - though we do not technically see Olrox feed Mizrak his blood, though it seems to be implied.

Drolta in this regard is interesting. Because from the sequence that sees her turned, she does not seem to get bitten. While the vampire injures her, there does not seem to be a bite. She only gets some of his blood and drinks it of her own volition.

I have seen some speculation if there needs to be some will or want involved in the turning of a vampire because of this. Does someone have to want to be a vampire - or at least want to not die? I am not sure, but it is interesting.

We also know with season clearly that whatever we assume a soul is: Vampires have it.

Other than that... We do not know how often vampires need to feed. However, given that we know they can journey over the Atlantic, it is probably not quite as much, given that the travel between Europe and the Americas in the time took about three to four weeks, and if a vampire would need to feed too often, I doubt that would end well. (Vampire feeding for the most part is a very logistical problem - but that is a topic for another day.)

Other than that, it seems that outside of the general inability to go out into direct sunlight, most typical vampire weaknesses do not seem to apply. They can go into churches, they seem to have a reflection in the mirror, and they can cross water no problem.

The Afterlife

So, from the very beginning I have been firm on one thing: While everything the show establishes seems to suggest that there is heaven and hell, I do not believe this. I was very sold on the idea that there is only one afterlife basically since the beginning, but especially since season 3.

The reason are two: Firstly, we know of at least one vampire in this world (Morana) who very much predates the concept of hell, which only came up in the 4th century. Sure, technically you can argue that Hinduism and some other religions also have a hell or a "bad place" to go after death, but generally, hell as known in Abrahamitic believes only came up in the 4th century. Given this is the case and this world does not ignore the fact that the rest of the darn world exists, it would make a lot of sense if hell was not real.

Secondly, we know the stories of two people ending up in hell, that in my understanding should not be there. That is Lisa for once, and also FlysEyes. I am sorry, but for what sin is Lisa supposed to be in hell? And she definitely is in the same place as Dracula, who definitely should be in hell, given the whole genocide and murder hobo thing. The same holds true for FlysEyes. Did he betray his friends? Yes, but he did so under torture. I am sorry, but I am not gonna assume that God really was so darn petty. Isaac also points that out in the dialogue.

However, Nocturne does bring up another possibility. And this possibility is, that this works rather under a varation of the "Clap your Hands" rules, specifically the one that American Gods seems to use. Which is basically: There is tons of different afterlives, and you will end up in whatever afterlife you align with the most. The reason for this obviously is, that we definitely know that the Ancestral Plane (a variation of which is part of a variety of both African and Asian religions) is a thing, as well as the Duat from Egyptian mythology.

And if we go by those "Clap your Hands" rules, it is obviously possible that FlysEyes ended up in what he perceived to be hell, because he felt guilty for betraying his friends, while Lisa might have wanted to go to hell, to meet with her husband again eventually. This would be interesting of course, because it would then mean that Mizrak would indeed have ended up in hell - just because he felt that he should.

The big question is, what this means right now for Forgemastery. We know at the very least that even vampire souls can be called back through it - both Drolta, and the resurrection of Dracula in the end of SV S4 proof this. But do souls for Forgemastery actually have to come from hell, or could forgemastery actually draw them from any hell whatsoever? That would be interesting to know.

Gods

In terms of the gods, Nocturne definitely so far implies some things about them. We definitely know now, that at least some of the "Old Gods" (I kinda love that the terminology used is the same one I keep using - not gonna lie here) are real. Namely we definitely know that Sekhmet, and Ogun exist, as well as Karfu and Papa Legba. If we all are not wrong about Olrox's background, Quetzalcoatl also very much exists or existed at some point. We also absolutely have some implications that at least some of the Christian demons and devils seem to exist to some extent. We already saw those fallen angels escape hell back in season 3, and now we have some more implications for maybe some other devils might exist for real too.

Ironically speaking though, we have so far absolutely no proof in one direction or the other, whether the Abrahamitic God with a capital-G exists in this world or not. Which I kinda understand - it is an iffy question to deal with in writing.

The question is, by which mechanic the gods exist. Does it work by "Clap your Hands if you Believe"? Or is there another mechanic that keeps them existing and presumably immortal? What happens to Gods, if nobody is left to believe in them? What happens if even their names are forgotten?

I talked a lot already about the Gaulic gods, who are a really prime example for this. There is plenty of gods from the Celtic pantheon of whom we found depictions in art, where we do not have the slightest idea how they are named, what their function was and so on. We know: "Someone painted this deity onto some pictures/made some statues" but that's all we know. What would this mean for this world?

It would be an interesting thing to find out. I wonder if we will ever learn this, should there be a season 3 or possibly another Castlevania series.