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#[as] prone
hekuuu · 7 months
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my favorite genre of games is the one where you can gather a team of idiots and wander around with them doing sidequests
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jonniechill · 2 days
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really surprised i have of yet to see this reading of laios' and toshiro's relationship before tbh
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rumble-bee-art · 8 months
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It may be a less known fact of her biography that Jane Austen kickstarted both one angel penchant for cotillion and one demon love for spy adventures
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themetalhiro · 2 months
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turtleblogatlast · 3 months
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Been thinking about how Donnie and Leo’s insecurities juxtapose each other.
Donnie is insecure about his place in the family, but confident in who he is outside of it.
Leo is secure about being a part of the family, but thinks he’s nothing outside of it.
I think it’s a very interesting comparison that reflects their respective personalities, Donnie’s “Will all I have to offer be enough?” versus Leo’s “Do I even have anything else to offer?”
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princesskuragina · 11 months
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I don't know who needs to hear this today, but PRONE is lying on your STOMACH, and SUPINE is lying on your BACK
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evilwizard · 7 months
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“everything exists on a spectrum, except for morality, which abides by strict logical rules allowing me to determine from First Principles whether any particular action is 100% good or 100% evil” <- supposition of the utterly deranged
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noodles-and-tea · 23 days
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Merlin is dying of laughter off-screen, obviously
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scribz-ag24 · 2 months
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Redraw from this pic from june!
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I could no longer stand old dusknoir and grovyle and gave them the glow up they deserved!!
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cemeterything · 1 year
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this quote about cordyceps from this article in a scientific magazine is basically how i've always imagined possession to work in horror stories. the demon/entity/whatever doesn't alter your perception, displace you, or control your mind, they just take over all your bodily processes, bypassing your brain entirely. they force your mouth and vocal cords to form the words they want you to say, force your limbs to move in the direction they want you to go, and force your lungs to keep expanding and contracting and your heart to keep beating, even through excruciating pain and horrific injury, so you can't even self-sabotage and your friends and loved ones are discouraged from trying to stop you for fear of what harm they might cause you to do to yourself to escape. you're a passenger in the driver's seat of your own car, and the hands on the wheel, though outwardly apparently the same pair you've always had, are no longer your own.
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Nimona headcanons I wrote instead of sleeping
Sometimes the boys forget that Nimona isn’t human 
Like they’re used to the shifting into animals aspect of Nimona because she does it as often as she breathes
But sometimes she’ll do some really creepy shit like make her arms longer to reach something when she’s too lazy to get up
One time they shifted just their neck to be like an owl so they could turn their head 180 degrees instead of just turning around cause that was “too boring” 
Or he’ll mimic people’s voices without realizing it 
Sometimes he’ll tell a story and suddenly he’s using Bal’s voice 
The first time she did this Bal searched the whole house cause he was convinced that Todd has snuck in
Or she’ll grow an extra arm to hold more shit and they take a moment to realize “oh yeah we adopted a little weirdo” 
They get used to it after a while and the arguments surrounding it are always funny because both the boys will complain and say “I don’t sound like that” and they have to be told “No love you do you really do” 
You know those videos of babies reacting to their parents shaving their facial hair or putting on glasses 
That’s Nimona's reaction every single time the boys change their appearance even the smallest bit they cant shave or wear their reading glasses because if they do he freaks out 
Talking some “help me Nemesis I heard bosses voice but I can’t find him” while Bal was standing right in front of them 
It was the first time he shaved his face in years and he’s never doing it again 
Mostly cause Ambrosius kept telling him he looked like a teenager and it was freaking him out 
I feel like Bal and Ambrosius are those kinds of people who will tell people about the little injuries but neglect the big ones 
Like Bal mentioned that he thinks he sprained his ankle during the fight at the institute but he won’t mention that he’s pretty sure he got a concussion 
(BECAUSE THIS MAN HEAD-BUTTED TWO PEOPLE WHEN HE HAS A METAL ARM) 
(I’m bout to wrap this man in bubble wrap and give him a helmet because wtf) 
Ambrosius will complain the whole day about the fact that he has a paper cut
But will completely neglect to inform his doctors “Oh yeah I can’t move my left arm higher than my waist without pain and I can’t see that well out of my left eye or hear that well out of my left ear do you think that’ll be a problem?” 
It isn’t until Nimona makes an off handed comment about how this super weird that the laser did basically nothing to him that he told both of them
They literally dragged him to the ER because “Who thinks those symptoms are normal Nemesis what is wrong in that pretty little head of yours!!” 
When Bal tells Nimona she’s being a bit of a hypocrite (cause who refers to an arrow as a splinter?) she turns to him and says “I know you’re not saying something Mr. Human battering ram” 
It took literally everything in Ambrosius not to break down laughing
After that she forces them to have frequent checkups with the doctor because these dorks wouldn’t go otherwise
Honestly I'm fully convinced that some people in the kingdom don't know who Nimona is and are constantly confused why they let this little weirdo follow them around 
And finally the curiosity will eat away at them and they’ll finally ask 
Sometimes the boys will give some “normal” answers like “Oh that’s Nimona” and they won’t elaborate at all
Sometimes they’ll give funnier answers like “Oh that’s a raccoon we found in the garage who turned into a person one day” “I don’t know they just showed up in our living room” and their personal best “You see her too?” 
And their favorite that they only started using a couple of years down the line “Oh that’s our kid”
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littlecrittereli · 3 months
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enjoy this compilation I made of Chris succumbing to the instincts of the creature power suit
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soulubles · 11 months
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Liko and Roy meet professor Gou 🤭💖
Since Gou’s VA also voices the new Pokédex, I like the headcanon that Gou became a young professor and voiced the new Pokédex as a side project 🤭🤭💕
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yutaleks · 2 months
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let me out, I'm starving
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yuuta x female reader, length: 4.0K CWs: yandere // reader and Nobara are eating food // explicit sex // allusions to rough sex/roleplay A/N: This is a repost but I have combined it with another post and edited it so this is much longer than the original post I made on my old blog. banner by @/cafekitsune.
Part of Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing series
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“He what?”
You wince as you’re met with Nobara’s screech right beside you, and choose to ignore her outcry coupled with the clattering of dropped chopsticks. You punctuate your willful silence with another mouthful of noodles, and Nobara continues to gape at you with an accusatory stare.
It’s “girls night” as she so eloquently (forcefully) declared naught but a few minutes ago, showing up to your shared apartment with takeout and a mission. 
Said mission? 
Getting you to quit seeing that situationship of yours, Yuuta Okkotsu.
It’s not that he is a bad guy per se; he’s incredibly polite, with a voice and countenance so sweet and timid anyone would find him charming. But he gives Nobara the creeps. She swears if you ever turned up missing, his basement would be the first place to check. 
(The second time she said that to you, your first thought was to wonder if his basement wasn’t so bad a place to be).
You don’t have it in you to confront the fact that she’s right: Yuuta is weird. 
Outwardly, there wasn't actually anything weird about him when you first met. He's handsome—not 'People Magazine's Top 100 Sexiest Men' handsome, but handsome enough to get your attention. He dressed inconspicuously, stuck to the back of classrooms, and kept mostly to himself. But he had friends, that much you knew from the times you'd seen him around. And he was always kind: opening doors for you, offering you a smile, and later sticking around and chatting with you as acquaintances would, once you got more friendly. He wasn't exactly serial killer material; not to the exaggerated level that Nobara had placed him in the very first time you ever mentioned an interest in him. Sure he was a bit of a loner, but that wasn't a crime.
It took a few more intimate encounters for you to find that Nobara's intuition wasn't far off. Despite her disinterest in them, she's never wrong about men, it seems.
It’s the eyes. 
He has this stare that roots you in place, that makes the bones beneath your skin feel like the layers around them aren’t thick enough to hide away from him. You wonder if he can see the reds and yellows of your bone marrow beneath the layers of compacted calcium. 
Just that deep, endless blue looking down at you makes your knees too weak to stand. As confident a person as you are, you're reduced to a newborn fawn, struck down to the earth with no strength in its feet. Those first few moments where you're bare beneath him it's like you've never taken a step and are too afraid to. But the fear has never pushed you away—in fact, it’s only drawn you nearer to him, your body a willing addict as it asks for more, more, more. 
It's like a person who's afraid of heights becoming addicted to skydiving. The fear is there, it's heavy on your chest when you look down and out of the plane. But you come back and make the jump—over and over, the adrenaline and fear a nitrous; an incredible blood rush.
Perhaps any other prey animal would feel skittish in the presence of a predator such as him, even if he's tamed. But it doesn’t work on you, not entirely. He makes your skin crawl but your heart race, like watching a horror movie from the comforts of the sticky, dirty seats of a cheap movie theater. The seats aren’t remotely comfortable but the movie’s too good to tear your eyes away.
Besides, you wouldn't get up and dash out of a movie theater for being scared. The threat is contained. The movie isn't real, no matter how much adrenaline rushes through your veins—at least, your mind is convinced that it can't hurt you. Because the serial killer or the scary zombie in the screen can't jump out at you, can't actually harm you... can it?
Anyway, that’s what it feels like to be with Okkotsu Yuuta. 
Everything he does seems to be both gentle and intense, purposeful and impertinent, yet mindful and considerate. Like he's apologetic for taking up space, for existing, but not so for feeling. He's unapologetically a bleeding heart, and he offers it to you. It makes for a dangerous combination—a man with no self-preservation, but the most intense hunger imaginable. More than once had he compared his desire for you to starving. And you believe him, having felt the intensity of his feelings in the strength of his grip and the bite of his teeth.
He’s never done anything to truly make you fear for your life—but you don’t doubt that he could.
“He asked me to marry him,” you repeat the words after you swallow your noodles. The phrase feels like a foreign language on your tongue, sounds like your speaking through the bottom of a glass bottle. It doesn’t feel real when you say it aloud, not like it felt when he whispered them to you this morning over your shoulder.
“He’s fucking insane,” Nobara guffaws, incredulous. Like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “You’re not even dating him.”
“I don’t think he cares,” you reply. There’s this weird grin on your face, to Nobara’s horror. Are you even entertaining something so—
“He should. He should ask you to date him—”
“Well we—”
“—do normal shit like going out to dinner or something—”
“But he does take me out—”
“—get down on one knee—no, both his knees—”
“Nobara.”
“—first he needs to beg you for forgiveness for all those fucking bruises—”
“But I—”
“—Then, he needs to promise to stay a hundred feet away from you for at least a year—”
“Nobara, that’s ridiculous. I—”
She holds up a finger. “I’m not done.”
Your shoulders sag as she continues:
“You need at least a year of dating normal guys to remember what normal, not potential serial killer men are like. And then maybe I’ll allow him to breathe the same air as you again. Maybe.”
"He's harmless."
She quirks a brow in silence.
"Okay maybe not harmless, but he never did anything I didn't agree to."
That’s a bit of a lie, but Nobara doesn’t need to know that.
"You know," she starts, as she picks up her chopsticks and starts picking up another pinch of noodles, "You were so innocent before you ever let crazy stick itself between your legs. Normal."
"I resent that."
"It's true!" She stuffs the noodles into her mouth, but continues talking. You've seen each other at rock bottom, so she's way past something as small as talking with her mouth full. "Before Okkotsu you hadn't even shown a guy your tits before. You were a virgin when you met him! Now he's got your wrists tied to his bed and got you calling him nii-san—"
You flush, "That was one time!"
"He's fucking weird! The hickeys you come home with are nasty, dude. What if he's a fucking vampire?"
"That'd be kind of hot."
"You're beyond saving," she sighs into her noodle carton. "No man's dick is that good." When you're silent for more than a beat, she groans. "Okay, even if it is, he's, like, two steps away from chaining you to a radiator or something. Some Ted Bundy shit,"
"That would never happen," you shrug, digging into your noodles once more, "Why would he wanna date me so bad if he just wanted to do some shit like that?"
"He'll Stockholm syndrome you into it. Don't call me when he's got you tied to a toilet."
You chuckle. "You don't know him, okay? He can be a little intense but he's harmless. Devoted, even."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, spare me the story about him eating you out the entire night on the first date, okay. I refuse to be jealous of you and him."
"It was amazing though," you grin like a fool. "I think he's more into eating pussy than sex."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Okkotsu supposedly being the world's number one munch aside—" she ignores your chuckling, "—what did you tell him when he said that?"
"What, the marriage thing?" She nods, and there's a snap and fizzing sound as she opens a can of beer. "He was literally balls deep in me, what was I supposed to say?"
"Uh, push him off and run the fuck home, maybe? Anyone with sense would," she retorts as she takes a sip of her beer. 
"But I like him."
That has her spitting out her beer dramatically. She is one for theatrics sometimes. "I thought you said you'd never date him."
"I've always liked him! He's just... intense, you know? It put me off before but..."
"But?"
Your thoughts fall back to the early hours of this morning, right before the whole 'marry me' sex thing, when you'd woken up first and got a glimpse of his sleeping face. His lips parted just a little, locks of black strewn across his forehead, an innocence about him that made all those intense, scary moments feel trivial. An unconscious arm around your waist as you cuddled up to his chest, prey safe in the arms of its captor. He'd never hurt you, he'd keep you safe—a feeling as soothing as it is addicting.
You find yourself just as wanting of moments like those as you are of the thrill. Is there ever a moment that you haven't wanted to be in Yuuta's grasp?
As soon as his body began to twitch awake, eyes slowly blinking the sleep away, you had turned over and faced away from him, embarrassed at the way your stomach felt like worms when he stirred to life. The arm around your waist tightened, pulling you closer.
"You stayed."
His voice was thick with sleep, his warm breath fanning against the nape of your neck. Judging by the still dark sky beyond the windows, you'd maybe only fallen asleep for an hour or two. Your eyes widened at the realization that, despite sleeping together for several months, this was indeed the first time you'd slept in his bed after sex. It was what later prompted Nobara's 'intervention' of sorts: her fears that whatever you were doing with Yuuta had reached a point of no return.
"Is that," you paused to clear the sleep from your throat, "Is it okay that I stayed?"
"I always ask you to," he rubbed his palm up the curve of your side. "You can stay in my bed forever," he muttered as he kissed the bruise on your neck, a bite he'd left just a little while ago turning dark as the blood under the skin pooled. "You know I wouldn't mind."
"Yuuta." you angled your head as he continued to mouth at your neck. The way you said his name felt like a warning. Perhaps 'Down dog' would've had the same effect.
"I know," he leaned closer to your back, shameless as his length, hardened, pressed against the back of your thighs. "I'm a little stubborn though... and patient. For you, at least. I'll wait until you say yes."
He always said it like it was inevitable. The question of you agreeing to be with him, for more than just sex, was never a matter of if, but when.
And when he soon after pushed you down gently, propped your hips on one of his pillows, and fucked you lazily from behind as you hid your flustered face into your arms, he wondered if he'd finally had you. Because if he was stubborn you were downright impossible, always immediately rebuking his advances with an 'I'm not ready for a relationship right now' or some similar excuse. To which he'd tuck his tail between his legs and brush off the rejection, man up, and fuck you like he owed you the best night of your life—every fucking time.
But today no such rejection came. He said he'd wait until you'd say yes and you didn't say no. When he soon after had caged in your body with his, his body entirely surrounding yours as he pressed you into his bed, he'd gotten carried away, spurred on by your first lack of rejection in months.
"I wanna marry you," he'd told you as he grinded his hips into your backside. The angle in this position was incredible, you had to bite down on your arm to stop from moaning awfully loud. Yuuta wished you would. "I can't stand the thought of anyone else doing this with you. I think I'd kill them."
"Yuuta," you moan his name into his mouth, and it always sets him off to hear you say it. "D-don't joke around like-like that."
Despite your words, you didn't think he was kidding.
And, you realized, you didn’t think you minded if he wasn’t.
A sound, something like a laugh, or maybe a breath of relief, tumbled out of his throat when you squeezed down on him in response. He'd angled your head to the side, to kiss you roughly, full of bite. You returned his kiss as his words made you a combination of afraid and excited. Would you ever get tired of the feeling?
Yuuta was like a rabid dog collared, restrained only by your previous rejections, and for a moment you wanted to know what all of him felt like. What would a Yuuta Okkotsu be like if he were set free, if he were given the ability to satiate this hunger? Would he finally consume you whole, or would he stop baring his raw, beating heart so desperately and relent?
"I'm not joking," he pulled back a little, just to rest his head against your nape. Every word felt hot as his breath warmed the skin between your shoulder blades. "Wanna be with you—marry you and everything. Whatever you want, I'll do. I don't care how it sounds, I just—"
"It sounds crazy," you replied, not a hint of malice in your words.
"I know, I—"
“I like you, Yuuta.” You interrupted what was sure to be another round of ramblings from him about how badly he wants to be with you. You’d heard it so many times, and slowly but surely each attempt had helped his feelings worm themselves deeper and deeper into your guarded heart.
He, who had you pinned down to the bed under him as he fucked you from behind, tensed up at your confession.
"Just... slow down a little, okay? Dating comes first. Do it properly, yeah?”
“What?” He completely stopped everything, pulling out and sitting on his knees absolutely star-struck.
You turned around underneath him and matched his posture, finding yourself breaking out into a smile at his look of surprise. Of all the things, this was what broke him?
"I like you… I think about you doing this with someone else and get jealous too… you scare me a little, but I like you. But we should date first, I think." 
His lips started to turn up into an incredulous smile. "Can I... be your boyfriend, then?”
In a voice that’s a little too playful to be considered scolding, you replied, ”Will you stop talking about killing people if I say yes?”
Among all the things he’s said to you, about how badly he wants to marry you or how many kids he’d give you, what stood out in your mind was the way he said he’ll kill anyone who stood in his way. But could someone who blushes as hard as he was blushing at that moment, possibly take a life with his bare hands?
He nodded, suddenly feeling sheepish. You’d turned him into a whole different person, practically.
“Then yes… I want you to be my boyfriend. And you can’t be my boyfriend from prison if you kill people.”
He laughed—god, of all things, he couldn’t stop laughing. His arms reached out to you and he cradled your jaw in his big palms. He leaned into you, and even when he kissed you he was laughing, giggling like a fool. Disbelief surrounded the love that made his heart ram against his ribs, and the feeling left him so incredulous he could only laugh.
“I can, as long” kiss “as I” kiss “don’t get caught.” kiss 
He could barely keep his lips off of yours, and as his kisses became deeper, you found yourself being pushed back down into his bed, facing him this time. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him slot himself between your legs. He held himself up by the forearms, and as his nose brushed against yours, the ends of his hair falling across your cheeks, his eyes found yours again. They were still as captivating as ever.
“Do you really mean it? You have feelings for me?”
His stare was intense, like he was searching for any sign of deception in yours. He found none.
“Yes, I mean it, Yuuta… I really do.”
It’s impossible to explain, even to yourself. How his obsessive feelings somehow had fueled your own—how you spent the days leading up to this seeping in jealousy at the mere thought of anyone else being in the position that you were in now. It made no sense, falling for someone like Yuuta—who’d stalked you, hurt others around you—but somehow it made all the sense in the world.
He slotted his lips against yours again, in a kiss that was absolutely smoldering. He was intense, as always, but it felt different too. An arm hooked around your thigh, hiking it up to his waist, and without even breaking the kiss he quite easily slid his cock back into you, picking up where you’d left off moments before your confession. You moaned against his lips as you lifted your other leg, hooking it around his other side, and felt yourself being pushed up as he carved himself into you once again. Could anyone else mold themselves into you so perfectly the way he does? Would anyone else even be given the chance to try?
“I love you,” he said, forehead pressed against your own. It was not the first time he had said it, nor will it be the last, but certainly it was the first time you’d ever accepted it wholly into your heart. “Please—tell me you love me,” he begged against the throbbing pulse of your throat. He sounded like he would fall apart if you didn’t say it, his soul so weakly held together by his feelings for you.
You’ve come to accept it as a part of him: that as long as Yuuta Okkotsu loves you, you are his entire world.
And right at that moment caged under his arms and pinned down by his gaze, it felt like he was your entire world, too.
“I love y—oh,” you were cut off by your own gasp as every ounce of his strength was suddenly hooked under your knees, pushing your thighs flat to your chest, weighing you down and robbing you of your breath. A whine, like a dying animal, escaped your lips as your body was kneaded and contorted in his heavy palms, pliable like dough. The way he touched you, fucked you—it was so different from before. He’d always done it with a desperation to please you, to convince you that he’s worthy of your love. But now that he had it, he wanted every last drop, and planned to pry it out of you himself.
“Again,” you crossed your ankles at his nape, toes curling as his pelvis made contact with your body. “Say it again—pleaseplease—“
“I love you,” you told him—though it’s less spoken word and more an exhale, your lungs were barely able to take in a breath with the weight that lay on your chest. “S-so don’t—don’t hurt anyone,” you gasped. “I’m right here, Y-Yuuta,” you implored him, eyes wet with unshed tears.
“Thank you,” he breathed into your mouth—for what you were doing was less kissing, and more trading breaths. Your nails dug into the meat of his shoulders, nails like grappling hooks as you hung on for your life. You squeezed down on him, enamored with the beautiful, pitiful strain in his voice, and he smiled. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You’d never felt closer to God in your life.
“I’ve loved you for so long,” he started to mumble, the words barely perceptible to you. His thrusts onto your body didn’t stop, in fact, they only got messier, needier. “So many times I thought you’d let someone else in—someone who wasn’t me—“ he pried your fingers off his shoulders, the bloodied crescents marking his skin. He pinned your hands down to the bed, his fingers slotting perfectly in-between, and squeezed hard enough to tempt your digits to bursting, leaving nothing but bone. “But it had to be me—who else can love you like I do?”
He paused long enough for you to open your eyes, to look into his, so glazed over with lust and devotion that there was no other answer to give. “N-No one—ah—No—“
“I know,” he pressed his forehead to yours as your legs fell to his sides, his eyes closing in rapture. “No one else.”
Was that the side of him that you always refused to see? The rabid animal that keeps itself trained, claws at bay; the raw, unfiltered strength that lies in every inch of his body masked by the tenderness he holds for you. You love it, despite how much you shouldn’t; you love every single fucking moment that this man is turned into an absolute lunatic over you. Perhaps you are just as bad as he is, for reveling in it and allowing him his moments of heresy.
Your brows drew together as you reeled in what could only be described as a whole-body experience: an orgasm that felt like every organ beneath your skin had been squeezed of its juices, pulp rendered and offered to him as you wailed into his mouth. He accepted it with an offering of his own, spilling himself into you when you kissed him. He kept his body as close to you as he could while he trembled, throbbed. His chest heaved against your own; and he kissed you so many times across your face you lost count, the waves and aftershocks of orgasm claiming you both until there was nothing but soft panting and the slightly awkward stare from his blushing, sweaty face.
Your stomach lurched at the sight. If only you could tell the you from a few months ago, the one who was so afraid of being with him, that the only thing to be afraid of is the thought of doing without such devoutness. 
To those who’d ask why you’d kept crawling back to Yuuta’s bedsheets, even after you’d learned the depth of his devotion: once you’ve had a taste of such fervent piety, it’s impossible to imagine a moment without it. 
Color pools over your cheeks as you sift through that memory, much later now, over noodles in front of your best friend Nobara.
"Yeah he's intense but I think it makes my boyfriend even cuter," you smile bashfully. “I don’t want him to feel like that for anyone else… I like that he’s crazy about me… is that weird?”
"Did you just say boyfriend?"
When you nod she shakes her head and groans.
"Fuck, you're just as insane as he is."
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celluloidbroomcloset · 5 months
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I've been thinking about this exchange between Izzy and Ed in "Discomfort in a Married State":
"For years I've followed your every whim, I've managed your increasingly erratic moods, I've massaged this crew when they were worried about your judgment—"
"Mm, sounds stressful, Izzy."
"It is."
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Izzy has assigned himself the role of "managing" Blackbeard, but it's quite obvious, both in Ed's response and in the way he says it, that Ed has never wanted or expected him to. And he continues to try to manage Ed, even when Ed clearly tells him not to.
Both Ed and Stede have that word "whim" thrown at them by people who don't really understand them - Izzy and Mary - and both at first resist the word (Stede even says "I object to the word whim"), then internalize it. It seems what are being called whims by outsiders are actually expressions of deep desires that neither Ed nor Stede have the verbal or emotional language to describe.
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It's not a whim that has Stede running off to a be a pirate - it's all the frustration and loneliness and repression - and it's not a whim to go back to Mary - it's a result of guilt and self-loathing. It's not a whim that has Ed following the Revenge to meet Stede - it's wanting to find someone who might be a kindred spirit. But neither of them can openly articulate those feelings, either to the people who are calling them whims or fully to themselves. Stede goes further than Ed does because so many of his desires are located in his repressed homosexuality, and once he's able to articulate that - with Mary's help - he understands his feelings. He still believes that he's "whim-prone" in other ways, but not when it comes to Ed.
Ed is especially leery about his own desires, which have been managed by other people for so long, and about Stede's. His idea to "run off to China" is a whim in a certain sense, but it's expressing a desire to leave behind their old identities and form something new together. His desire to "take it slow" is about his own healing independent of Stede, but it's also built on a fear that Stede is going to disappear again. After they have sex, Ed again falls into the fear that it was a whim, but it's not his whim - it's Stede's. He's scared that what meant so much to him doesn't mean as much to Stede, or not enough for Stede to be able to let go of piracy and fame. He's worried that piracy wasn't a whim, but he was.
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Both of them have been managed most of their lives, in different ways and by people and structures that they never wanted to manage them in the first place. It was all about keeping them in settled, socially acceptable places where they can't escape, and casting doubt on the legitimacy of their desires. (I don't think Izzy, and certainly not Mary, consciously think of it in these terms, and Mary especially has had to subsume her own needs as much as Stede has.)
In the scene with Izzy, Ed's evidently pushing back at the management, and he probably has been for a while. But this is likely the first time where his desires are getting more articulated, after his conversation with Stede, and are the same moment when Izzy starts trying to exert even more control over him.
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His finding the letter is a mirror to Stede's conversation with Mary - the realization of who he is and who the man he loves is, and that the feelings he's experienced not just for but from Stede are not whims but bone-deep love.
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saturnniidae · 18 days
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Hiccup is a prime example of that specific type of autism where you were ostracized for being different as a kid then later in life struggle to empathize with other people and are better at relating to and connecting with animals.
Like that scene when they were on the ship they found the dragon eye in??? They see the bones of dragons and Hiccup is visibly disturbed and upset that Toothless has to be seeing this, then like less than a minute later he pries something out of the hand of a human skeleton and has little to no reaction to seeing it other than 'ew'
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