#he used to be a real person and his journey to finding himself again?

[tryandbehappy]

Nick and June are the definition of endgame not because they’ll get a “happily ever after,” but because they’re the ones who change each other.

Let’s talk about classic storytelling for a second and psychology.

Sure, in real life, love doesn’t always look like a character-defining transformation.Sometimes people just live together 😂

But in fiction?

In stories that move us whether it’s novels, films, or long-form series we’re drawn to love that changes people. That forces growth.

Because that’s what storytelling is about transformation.

We’ve seen it a thousand times:

Elizabeth and Darcy.

Rose and Jake.

Beauty and the Beast.

Jamie and Claire.

Damon and Elena and hundreds more.

The best romantic arcs aren’t about comfort, they’re about collision. One person crashes into another and shakes their very core.

They challenge old beliefs, destroy illusions, awaken parts of each other they didn’t even know existed.

And June and Nick?

They are that couple.

They’re not just lovers. They’re catalysts. They force each other to grow.

And we’ve seen it time and again throughout the series:

They’re not in each other’s lives by accident. They are there to transform each other.

Compare that to Luke and June.

There is no growth. No forward motion.

Just two people trying to glue together a version of the past that doesn’t fit anymore.

They keep circling the same question:

“Are we only together because of Hannah?”

And while June is drowning in guilt for loving someone else, Luke is constantly trying to prove he’s the better man: to her, to Nick, to himself.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can feel that it’s not working. Because their story isn’t about love anymore, it’s about holding on out of obligation.

Meanwhile, Nick and June keep evolving. They keep pushing each other forward even when it hurts.

June’s journey?

She was raised to be a fighter. A protestor and a perfectionist. By a mother who believed in feminism above all and made June feel like she had to be strong, independent, untouchable.

But June craves love. She wants connection.

And she can’t reconcile that with the ideals she was raised with so she punishes herself for wanting, for loving, for being human.

She can’t forgive herself!!! Not for surviving. Not for falling for Nick.

She’s trapped between being the “perfect mother,” “perfect wife,” “perfect revolutionary” and just being herself.

Nick challenges that.

He mirrors back all the things she tries to hide.

He sees her darkness and loves her anyway. He will never judge her like Luke or her mother. And maybe that’s what terrifies her most because she is used to judging herself all the time

But Nick?

Nick is just as broken. He’s never believed he deserves happiness.

He carries guilt from his past, from the moment he joined Gilead, from everything he did to survive.

He shuts himself off emotionally because when he feels, he feels too much.

He loves deeply and it’s too painful.

So he tells himself it’s safer not to love at all. And that was like that before he met June. (He told his boss commander he’s trying to avoid emotional attachments)

But June cracks that open. She makes him feel again.

She questions him like “do you want this bullshit life?” or like in this ep she literally questioned if he wanted to be like them. She already challenged him - he finally decided he wanted to run away with her. And now he has to find himself.

And that’s his entire arc. He has to stop hiding.

He has to step into who he could be.not just the man who endures, but the man who chooses.

Without this “I can’t get to have what I want”

And June?

She’s the one who keeps asking him to choose more and be more.

That’s why they’re endgame. Because they give each other evolution. They don’t just fall in love, they also build each other. And it’s interesting to watch 🍿

[spielzeugkaiser]

I'm not even appearing with the bg3 au you'd expect (the witcher), no, I straight up jumped to cyberpunk- And now I have a whole sci-fi buddy cop movie in my head with scientist!Gale, lovebot!Astarion and cyborg!Karlach being on the run.

[pretentious-blonde]

spark

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you accepted steve’s offer, and he smiles like it’s easy, but beneath the facade, he’s praying you don’t notice how terrifying it is to open up again

warnings: ptsd, anxiety, scars, mention of death

a/n: ANGST. steve is still a huge sweetheart as per!!

series masterlist

Steve was awake long before his alarm, as usual. Though he liked to pretend he was simply a “morning person,” he knew the real reason.

He always woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing from a nightmare he could never fully recall. It was the same vague sense of running—always running—being chased by something he never let himself name. 

He reminded himself that those days were gone. 

He didn’t have to run anymore.

He eased out of bed, pushing the sheets away, and moved to the small bathroom. Flicking on the light, he squinted at his reflection in the mirror. The circles beneath his eyes weren’t as dark as they used to be—a tiny victory he attributed to the combination of time, therapy, and intermittent determination. 

The government had footed the bill for his sessions as well as securing him a psychiatrist, reasoning that what he’d experienced wasn’t exactly covered by regular services, nor did they want the exposure. His therapist was kind enough and understood that the horrors he experienced were a lifelong journey to recovery. 

Slowly but surely, he was finding his footing again.

He’d spent years feeling dislocated from normal life. All that time battling with the fallout from the Upside Down had stolen the carefree spark of his youth, and the constant suspicion that something else might lurk around the corner left him raw. 

But recently, thanks to the subtle coaxing of his therapist—and the unwavering support of friends—he’d started picturing a future that wasn’t overshadowed by the past. 

He got a stable job teaching, an apartment all his own (no more living under his parents’ roof), and moments of genuine contentment. The kids in his class offered him something pure and untarnished. Something untainted. They had no idea about his history, or the scars he hid beneath his shirt, and that innocence soothed him in ways nothing else could.

He opened the cabinet, pulled out the bottle of medication his doctor had prescribed, and popped a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water straight from the tap. A shaky exhale followed. 

Today was Sunday. Which meant he was going to see you—something that thrilled him and sent a jolt of nerves zipping along his spine. He dried his mouth on the back of his hand, thinking about how the mere idea of a date used to make him panic. 

Now, he actually looked forward to it. Progress.

He called Robin the second he’d gotten home from school, practically buzzing as he told her he’d finally asked someone out. She’d laughed and teased him that “it took you long enough,” but the care in her voice said she was proud of him. 

He was proud of himself too. 

He had found himself gushing about you—about how you went the extra mile, how you’d insisted on giving him a discount for the kids’ sake, and how your eyes had sparkled with genuine kindness when you raised your hand in his classroom. 

He’d felt his cheeks burn just remembering that moment, how you played into the lighthearted fun. There was a tenderness about you that he found himself needing, now more than ever. If anyone deserved a gentle presence in this life, it was him.

He toweled off his face and ruffled his hair, trying to decide if it was a lost cause to style it so early. The nerves fluttered in his stomach, a far cry from the petrifying dread he was used to. 

This was a nervousness he welcomed—one that signalled something good might be about to happen rather then the more common alternative.

Making his way to the small wardrobe in his bedroom, he flicked through hangers, considering each shirt, each pair of jeans. He wanted to look casual, approachable… anything but intimidating. It wasn’t as if he’d strolled into your shop wearing a suit of armor, but something in him wanted you to see him as safe. 

Maybe it was the teacher in him, or maybe it was the scared kid he used to be, desperate not to give anyone a reason to back away.

His fingers skimmed over a few options before he settled on a soft sweater and a pair of jeans without paint smears or frayed hems. He tugged them on, studying himself in the full-length mirror propped against the wall. The faint scars on his arms peeked out if he rolled the arms too high, and for a moment, he considered covering them. 

But he thought about how you’d looked at him—like he was someone worth smiling at—and decided it was okay.

Or, maybe he'd just keep his sleeves down...

He smoothed the jumper, eradicating the wrinkles, and exhaled. As he patted his pockets—keys, wallet—he felt the steady beat of his heart. He wasn’t used to feeling this light about a date or meeting someone new. The last time he’d tried to let someone in, he’d still been carrying too much baggage. Plus, meeting someone new was normally an appointment with doctor or scientist. 

But the promise of meeting you felt hopeful. 

Like something he deserved.

He arrived early, stomach twisting as he slipped into the small café. The sun was bright but soft, illuminating the polished tables and the row of pastries under their glass display. He chose a seat by the large window—not for the view, not to watch the world pass by, but because he just needed to see the outside. 

The habit was bone-deep, second nature after years of too many surprises, too many nights where danger came from behind, from the dark, from the unseen. 

If he lied, he would say it was just preference, that he liked the open space, the way the light stretched across the table, but the truth was simpler, heavier—he still hated feeling boxed in.

He needed the open sightlines, needed the reassurance that if something—anything—happened, he’d see it coming. He wasn’t scared. Not exactly. But the fear had settled into him like muscle memory, impossible to unlearn.

Taking some calming breaths, he stirred the coffee he’d already ordered in lazy circles. There was something comforting about the swirl of cream in the dark liquid, a momentary distraction from the knot of nerves in his gut.

He glanced at his watch—still early, but not by too much. On an impulse, he waved the barista over and requested a hot chocolate “to have ready” when you arrived. He hoped you’d like it, but if not, he could claim it for himself and get you something else.

Every so often, he looked up from his mug to peer out the window. Eventually, he caught sight of you, weaving through the passers-by and pausing at the crossing. His pulse spiked. 

Suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he wave through the glass? That might be odd. Instead, he ducked his head, pretending to fiddle with the sugar packets on the table, as though he hadn’t just watched your every step across the street.

When the door opened, he glanced up. The sight of you, cheeks faintly flushed, made his heart do a little flip. You looked around, scanning the tables—your hair bouncing—until your eyes locked on him. As your face broke into a radiant smile, he stood so abruptly that he nearly toppled his coffee, earning a wary glance from the couple seated nearby.

“Hi,” you greeted, stepping forward as he awkwardly leaned in for a brief hug. 

You seemed comfortable with him. That was a good sign. 

“Hey,” he replied, breath catching in his throat. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long?”

His face heated. If only you knew how early he’d arrived. 

“Oh no,” he lied with a small shrug, “I’ve only been here a couple of minutes.”

“Well, that’s good,” you said. Your gaze drifted to the steamy mug sitting across from his coffee.

“I, uh, got you a hot chocolate,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. He tried to sound casual, but his nerves betrayed him, and there was a boyish quality to his voice.

“Presumptuous,” you teased, lifting an eyebrow, and he immediately blushed.

“What? Everyone likes hot chocolate.” He sank into his chair.

“Careful,” you teased further. “You might be spending too much time around second graders.”

He would agree with you there.

“Well, kids are usually right about these things.” He let out a short laugh, tension easing in his shoulders. “Especially chocolate.”

With a grin, you held the mug up to your lips, taking a slow sip. The appreciative hum you made was enough to send a spark of pride through him, and he mentally checked off a little “win” in his mind. 

This was already off to a good start.

You settled in your seat, and he took a moment to appreciate how easily you seemed to fit into this café’s atmosphere—warm and welcoming like the morning light. 

“So,” you asked, “are the kids enjoying their new books?”

“Yeah,” he replied, eyes lighting up. “Love ‘em—kind of surprised at how careful they’re being, too. Usually, I’m taping up ripped pages by now.”

“Seems like they listen to you,” you observed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

“Sometimes they do.” He shrugged modestly. “Sometimes, they’ve got a mind of their own. But it’s good—keeps me on my toes.”

Your next question was casual, but he liked the genuine interest behind it.

“How long have you been teaching?”

“Few years now,” he said, gently pushing away the memories that threatened to surface. The path that had led him here hadn’t exactly been simple. “Didn’t go to college right away, and I was kind of drifting. Then I stumbled into a teacher training program, and… here I am.”

It was a more concise version of the truth—just enough to say without letting too many memories surface. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either; he wasn’t about to burden you with that.

“That’s really sweet,” you said softly, a note of sincerity in your tone.

He felt the back of his neck grow warm. 

“I enjoy it,” he confessed. “I always remembered the shy kids—how people used to pick on them. Thought if I can give them a good start, maybe they won’t have to worry as much… maybe they’ll carry that with them.”

He meant every word.

He had a soft spot for the quiet kids, the ones who lacked confidence—the ones he used to overlook. Maybe lifting them up was his way of making amends, a silent apology for the way he once treated his own peers. If they could find their footing a little sooner, maybe they’d never have to deal with a kid like he used to be. 

It was one of his biggest regrets, and he could only hope he was making up for it now.

Your eyes shone, and he watched the way your features softened at his explanation. The honesty in your expression made his chest tighten in the best way. He swallowed, nerves skittering again. He had to keep reminding himself not to monopolise the conversation with talk of the children, no matter how proud he was of them.

“So,” he ventured, quickly shifting gears, “are you new in Hawkins? Haven’t seen you around before.” Then his stomach lurched as your expression grew thoughtful, more pensive.

“Yeah, I inherited the bookstore,” you said, your tone gentle rather than pained. “My grandmother left it to me in her will.”

Mentally he kicked himself.

Way to go, Harrington.

“I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right, really.” You waved away his concern with a small laugh. “I miss her, but being in that space she loved keeps me close to her, you know? It’s like she never really left.”

Relief washed over him, followed by a deeper admiration. You really were lovely, in that rare way some people are, managing to find the bright side even in the things that hurt. He wasn’t sure how you did it, brushed off something as big as death and still had room for warmth. 

He yearned for that—desperately. 

He felt more sure than ever that this date had been a good idea. You asked about the day-to-day with his class, and he found himself relaxed enough to share a few funny stories. There were paint smears and paper-mache disasters, random outbursts during quiet reading time, and the occasional meltdown when a pencil sharpened too short. 

You giggled freely at his over-the-top reenactments, caught up in the way he threw himself into the story with his whole body. He wasn’t just telling it—he was living it, every exaggerated gesture and animated expression pulling you in. 

You could picture his students, enraptured, hanging onto every word as he transformed the classroom into whatever world he wanted. He even did the voices. There was no hesitation, no self-consciousness, just him completely lost in the moment, unguarded and uninhibited, letting it take him somewhere else entirely.

He found himself almost giddy that you were humouring him, that you weren’t just listening but enjoying his retellings. Each chuckle warmed his chest, unfolding something fragile and long-dormant, finally given sunlight. It was a reassurance he hadn’t realised he needed. 

He could still make someone laugh. He could still be light, still be fun, still be someone worth listening to.

Eventually, the conversation began to wind down. You glanced at your watch with a regretful sigh. 

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back and do some admin stuff at the shop.”

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, unable to completely hide his disappointment. He toyed with the corner of his napkin, eyes flicking from your face to the door. “Of course, don’t wanna eat up your Sunday.”

“But,” you added softly, your own reluctance clear in your voice, “I’d really like to see you again, if you’re up for it?”

His stomach did a joyous flip.

He had done it. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying not to sound too eager. “Absolutely—uh—I usually have weekends off, and anytime after five, really—school hours and all.”

“Do you have a pen?” you asked, casting a quick look around for one.

These days he was never without one—always needing something signed or scribbled. He rummaged in his jacket pocket, producing a slightly battered ballpoint. 

“Here.”

You leaned over and wrote your number on a clean napkin, sliding it across the table. 

“That’s the shop phone. I live right upstairs, so it'll reach me.”

He clutched the napkin as if it were precious—and to him it really was—heart thudding like it did the first time he’d asked you out. 

“I’ll call you,” he promised, nodding a few more times than necessary.

You stood, gathering your things, and he quickly rose to his feet as well. With a self-conscious smile, he reached for your jacket, holding it open for you. 

“Here—um, sorry… Force of habit.”

You slipped your arms through the sleeves, cheeks flushing. 

“Oh?”

“Y’know, recess duty—same motion.” He scratched his cheek. “Sorry that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all.” You giggled, giving him a soft, rosy-cheeked grin that made his heart lurch. “...It’s sweet.”

He walked with you to the door and pushed it open. You paused for a moment on the threshold, peering over your shoulder with one last smile.

“See you later, Mr. Harrington,” you teased gently, and he rolled his eyes with a playful groan.

“See you,” he managed, still reveling in the inexplicable joy that you wanted to see him again.

And then you were off, leaving him in the light of the morning that felt warmer. He slipped back into the café, dropping into his seat with a breathless feeling in his chest. Not wanting to go home just yet, he ordered another coffee. His therapist told him it was good for him to be out of the house. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, he realised he’d gone an entire hour without the memories of his past creeping in. No anxiety, no frantic heart pounding from a past he couldn’t escape. 

He smiled to himself as he fiddled with the napkin where your phone number was scrawled. Things were looking up for him, and he was already planning what he was going to say when he called you that evening. 

taglist: @daisy-is-a-writer

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, The Hero of Hyrule

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro

Colored version.

Long talk/Ideas under the cut, warning for violence and blood. (Note: I may add stuff over time, but nothing will be deleted from the list)

Twilight. Wind. Time. Legend. Four. Sky. War. Wild.

Hyrule (Legend of Zelda 1 & 2). Other Nicknames: The Traveler, Healer, Medic, Little Lost boy, The Fairy/Fae. The Survivalist.

Hero’s Title: Hero of Hyrule, Hero of the Two Zeldas, Carrier of the Triforce, The Fae born.

God that has claim over his soul: Kishin (Fierce Deity)

Part of First’s soul: Tranquility

History:

All that Link knows is that he was born to a fairy in the kingdom of hyrule, eventually he is separated from her and an old man gives him a sword to help him survive in the harsh world. Eventually his wandering led him to the dungeons and defeated the monsters inside, gathering up the piece of the Triforce of Wisdom and Power. Eventually he defeated the monster known as Ganon and saved princess Zelda.

Of course this wasn’t the end to this adventure, Zelda insisted Link live in one of the villages, though Link didn’t feel very comfortable with it. Most of the village was cold and untrusting especially to outsiders. It was here that Link learned from Impa about the other zelda, who was cursed to sleep until someone would wake her. So this time he is given a quest to find the missing Triforce of Courage and wake the second Princess Zelda. He of course being who he is, he accepts and begins his journey, this time having to fight a dark reflection of himself. Meanwhile Ganon minions are trying to capture him to use his blood in a ritual to bring back the king of evil. After he helps the princess, he learns the Triforce, not having a secured place in the realm it once rested, has now chosen him as a protector and stays with him.It will also turn people hostile when they realize he has power to grant anyone’s wish. As well as monsters still hunting him down. He opts to live on the road, only stopping when he meets one of his Zeldas.

Death: Unknown…

Interesting stuff/Headcanons:

Besides the Triforce, the fae side of Link is known to give hylians an uncanny feeling, so most will either chase him out or ask him to leave.

He’s a good voice mimic, so he can mimic the voice of people and animals, he mainly like’s to use chirps and trills.

Has an iron stomach and can survive off almost anything. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t get sick, and has learned that lesson the hard way.

When he learns a spell it gets soaked into his skin, almost like a marking.

When he starts to get comfortable, his human form will slowly start to shift into his real form, looking more like a dryad then a hylian.

He only really lets his fairy wings out when he truly is safe and comfortable, that can easily be torn and are hard to heal, so it’s a big sign of trust to see them.

Fairy wings are the vulnerable parts of a fae, fae hunters often times will tear and break them to prevent escaping, and Hyrule trusted the wrong person when he was younger (hense why he didn’t use alot of his magic)

They have healed over the many years but they still have scars on them.

Hyrule cannot read, at least not till after Zelda from his first adventure taught him, he’s gotten better and can use magic if he falls short.

In his Hylian form, the first hint to his fae side is a crown of branches he wears, that looking closer grow out of his head. This shows many of the fae and forest his a child of nature.

He trims the branches just enough so they look like a little crown a child may have put on him.

Anything cut off of him will go back to its natural state, Hair? Turns to leaves. Skin? Becomes a bark-like texture. Again he’s still natural and flesh-like but his true form blends into nature better.

Ganon utters a blood curse to Hyrule during his death, meaning should he be captured and blood spilled Ganon could come back.

This of course results in Hyrule being terrified of his own blood, he wears leathers to protect his skin.

Ganon has also shown interest in possessing the boy, dark Link was a side effect when he couldn’t.

This makes Hyrule weary of any magic signatures he can’t identify right away.

He’s actually really good at sewing and repairing stuff sense oftentimes it was either repair it or throw it away.

He doesn’t really feel comfortable in bed since he spent so much of his childhood in a fairy fountain or moving around.

Because of his fae magic, other fae like Time feel comfortable around him, however because Hyrule can’t get a read on Time’s magic he often is silently panicking.

For some reason he feels like he’s seen Legend before, he doesn’t know why.

----

Hyrule is done!

[dailyarchean]

might be a bit odd or a stretch and written poorly by me (sorry if its rambly basically) but mithrun has such interesting but devastating symbolism and importance for a message in dunmeshi.

(TW SA/ABUSE MENTIONS)

the goat (demon) being an abusive relationship that to you who is in it only sees a nice perfect person doing anything for you, only for things to slowly get worse and worse… leading to SA (it’s not actual SA but the imagery has subtle implications of it) and other forms of physical and psychological abuse.

this leaving mithrun in an intense state of depression, ptsd and other issues like getting mana sickness really easily, which is also connected to the physical disabilities he got from said abuse. and due to these states he finds he can not desire anything anymore, he can only feel empty, not even a desire to get help and only feels a strong anger to the person and tries to prevent anyone else from going through the same.

but he’s not a lost cause.

“so.. even vegetable scraps have their uses, huh?”

he blames himself for his trauma, he sees himself as worthless and not one to be desired anymore because of what he went through. and realizing this, realizing that he actually has grown a desire to BE desired even just in a simple way to be needed (helping with falin) he finally can crack through that depression. the ptsd is still there, the physical disabilities are still there, but through surrounding himself with community of people with different views and trauma has helped him realize he is not broken and shouldn’t be blaming himself for something that was out of his control.

he wants to do new things, he wants to live now and it’s so beautiful to see.

plus, as kabru says here how the desires being eaten is not what it seems like is such an interesting fact. sure the demon ate his desires he had in that moment, making him believe he could never desire again but in fact he could get new desires (change/grow/heal) plus, traveling with kabru, he did show desires whether they be small or not.

in this moment he showed full horror about this memory. now if he was loss of desire, then he shouldn’t even desire to feel fear about this right? shouldn’t he only feel anger due to the revenge? which once again, shows his whole healing journey.

he’s such a great character with so much representation, and in turn is also a character that can show hope for someone like thistle who now is going through similar things and is practically hospitalized.

there is hope, you will heal, you are gonna be okay and your trauma is real but it does not shape you as a person, you are safe now.

dunmeshi is such a great depiction of that

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)

Part 2

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by @peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

or

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

[bruhhxiao]

Like when we were younger

(sfw/nsfw)

paring Anubis x step-sister!reader

! warnings: paring sister reader x brother Anubis=incest (they are related by Osiris), depression, violence(?), (Y/N used) !

requested by @gongyunlian

“Try to convince him Y/N, please…”

“uncle Seth it’s not like I enjoy this situation, my brother looks like another person” You told him walking in circle as he sat on his throne.

“Osiris changed him! My only son…” you patted Seth shoulder.

“Hours… Hours says it’s better this way..” You whispered

“He’s wrong! And you know Y/N!”

After you left Seth you went to visit your mother Isis, she fall in a deep state of sleep since your father Osiris was killed by Seth. She loved your father and she raised Anubis like her biological son, like Hours and became gods. Osiris betrayed her after all the love she gave and showed to him… she forgive him after she knew about Anubis real father.

“I promise mother, I will try to take him back.” You caressed her right cheek.

A few days later you went to Anubis temple, it was a chilly night and it was quieter than usual.

“Anubis can I have a word with you?” You knelt in front of his statue, but this time he didn’t show up like he used to. You were the most close compared to Hours. You were siblings and we never been against each other. You were one thing.

“Please I have something to tell you..” You last said before leaving the temple walking bare foot on the cold sand of the desert.

“Can you please stop following me and talk normally?” You said looking at your shadow watching Anubis coming out of it. He just stood in front of you silent.

“Look at yourself. You never talk, you always hide your face under this mask even when we are alone… where did my brother go?” You tried to reach his mask to take it off but he snapped your hand leaving you speechless.

“Your father is worried! Hours knows something i don’t. Tell me Anubis, tell me please…”

“Seth is no longer my father I don’t need to go see him” he disappeared dissolving into the darkness of his shadow.

You were bathing playing with the blue lotus that you brought with you into the bath. You were a god, the god of protection, anxiety, perfection and purity. The blue lotus was your symbol, your blessing. You probably inherited this specialty from your father and you remembered how you and Anubis played with this flower when you were younger and far from the responsibility of your journey.

“Why are you so stubborn..”

“He is keeping you safe…” You look on the side you spot Hours sitting on the balcony of the chamber looking at the red sky.

“From what Hours? He is hurting himself standing by the one who made him like that”

“You don’t get it! He wants to see Seth suffer! Watching his most important ones standing by his side!” Hours shouted flying away leaving you even more confused, how could Osiris hurt his own son to take revenge over Seth.

“You said you wouldn’t never leave me..” You said thinking about the promise you and Anubis made when you were young.

You went to his temple again sitting in front of his well sculpted stone that was made for prayers towards the god. You left a gift like human do, you left a blue lotus.

When you went back to your mother you saw Anubis talking to her leaving a blue lotus. As he was about to disappear you dashed to him grabbing his mask revealing his long curly black hair, his shocked expression made you ran through the hallway leaving the servants confused. He chased you by the shadows trying to get his mask back.

“Now you know how I felt when I was younger!” That’s right he used to tease you taking away your toys or food and made you ran for minutes until you ended up crying but that was actually an excuse to be close to you, to cuddle you, to protect you.

“Y/N…” He groaned stepping close.

You took off your mask showing your features that Anubis couldn’t see after he became a god. He grew up so you did but he didn’t expect to find you as beautiful as the first time he saw you but there was something that he never felt when he was younger. You wore his mask was jumping around your chamber trying to escape.

“I look good right? You can take mine if you wan-“ He grabbed you by the gold necklace and he pinned you to the wall.

He took the mask and he threw it on the floor, you were surprised by his actions but he didn’t give you time to realized what had happen that he grabbed your cheek pulling you against his lips. The kiss wasn’t aggressive but you could feel the desire. He picked you up caressing your hips to your breast. He snapped back making you land on your feet leaving you breathless.

He grabbed his mask walking out of the chamber. He was speechless, he was angry and guilty at same time… he hated himself for this.

“what about Isis? Please help her Anubis!” You shouted as he disappeared in the shadows.

You were walking in the dark desert a hand grabbed your ankle from the could orange sand. Anubis hand.

“Your mother.” He says as a tear falls down on your cheek

“she woke up.” He continued as his hand melted in shadows and sand.

When you arrive Isis was sitting on the edge of her bed next to her was Nephtys consoling her.

“Mother!” You shouted running towards her but your aunt Nephtys stopped you.

“Y/N! Have you seen Anubis?” She asked a bit worried looking first Isis and then back to you. You nodded.

Your back laid against the cold wall near the balcony, head lost in thoughts until a cold hand holds your shoulder.

silent as always.

“What is wrong with you!” You say angrily without even turning to see who he was. You knew, you could tell by his touch. You stood up taking off your mask grabbing his black tie pulling him near you.

”What happened to you…” You started again until he snapped his black soft curls hiding his expression, teeth biting into his lips almost about to bleed.

“Anubis..” You called softly grabbing his cheek making him look at you as you freed his eyes from the hair.

As you leaned closer caressing his cheek trying to read into his eyes he liked his lips.

“He’s gonna hurt you…” he finally spoke leaning closer to your face.

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” He continued.

He leaned close, lips crushing into yours with his hand behind your neck. As you kissed him back he pushed off. He grabbed your hips picking you up.

“I won’t let him…”

He says as he reveals your breast massaging it as he kisses your neck. He brings you to the bed laying on top kissing every inch of your body.

“you’re so soft”

He said dry as he kissed you to your lips to your hips. He takes your bottom off making you jolt by his sudden action. You covered your body calling his name for once making him snap from his fantasy…

He doesn’t say anything he kisses you cuddles you going from your neck to your hips. He kisses your intimacy softly and slowly as brings a finger inside by surprise.

He added another finger thrusting slowly but steadily while his lips leave kisses on your tummy.

He pulls the fingers out and flip you with your belly against the mattress. His chest pressed against your back as he goes inside making you arch your back.

“I can’t hold it anymore” He says while your fists clenched on the linen sheets.

He waits a few seconds before he starts moving holding your belly with his hand while you cry out the pain that becomes pleasure in no time. Anubi is gently but gives you every inch of him as he kisses your back to your neck kissing it, sucking it, biting it. He slipped out making you turn and face him.

“my baby…” you mumbled you use to tease him every time back in the past, tease his protective side as the older brother.

He grabbed your hand and he kissing it before leaning down kissing your lips while caressing you cheek.

He hugs you tightly as he goes back in with his face pressed in your neck leaving marks and wet kisses trying to hide his moans. You arch your back as you’re getting closer and he thrusts deep. He bumps his nose into yours as the thrusts became slower but stronger taking away your breath. He holds tightly as you both came together.

After a few second he leans down and kisses your lips and then laying on top of you resting his head on your chest as you stroke his curly hair while you looked outside at the dark blue sky.

It reminded you when you used to spend time with him in the past where he would let you cuddle him so you would stop complaining, but it was an excuse for him to be close to you and spoil him with your affection and cuteness. He knew that in the future you would cuddle him with stronger feelings.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Henlooo guys this is such an unlucky day! First I want to apologize to @gongyunlian for taking months to upland their request but I had some family issues. And I finished the story this morning but I was such in a hurry that most of the finale got deleted so I had to rewrite it, so apologize if it’s boring or doesn’t make sense at all. Small reminder, English isn’t my first language so ignore the grammar mistakes if there are any. LOVE YA<3 and feel free to ask something request are open!

[tallochar]

Just got hit real hard by a drive-by idea where Flashpoint doesn't happen and Dick just takes a few months off to chill (read: Donna shows up and drags him off to have adventures now that Bruce is back in town and everything seems status quo again)

And when he comes back it initially looks like that set up so many fandom fics have where Tim has been isolating himself / been left to his own means and only works with the others out of politeness.

And the moment Dick clocks that that's what the others think is happening, he can straight up feel the grey hairs trying to show up, because while he had phone calls with Tim (who seemed to be coping better with everything that went wrong in his life) and Damian (with whom Dick did not talk about anyone outside of Damian and, occasionally, Bruce, which was already hard enough on Dick without bringing the others in) he had also thought that things had sort of started settling back into what Dick used to think as normal before Bruce "died" on them.

Except Damian and Jason don't know how to pick up on that sort of thing, Cass is still doing her Hong Kong / Journey of Self Discovery Thing as far as anyone seems to know / Bruce is CLEARLY (to Dick and Alfred and absolutely no one else) still communicating with Tim because he's on an even keel but also he must have done something to piss off Tim because Tim is doing the Politely Co-Workers Thing at Bruce (with Alfred's approval and support so Bruce must have fucked up REAL BAD) and it's stressing Bruce out so much that Dick can practically see the tension lines heading to a breaking point in the man why is no one else seeing the tension lines.

Plus Barbara and Dick were still on not-so-great terms when Dick split from Gotham, so he's not had much luck talking to her and some desire to call her but not enough to actually call her a lot, just some, which hasn't made Babs less pissed at him, so he's not getting information on that side and of course if Barbara is pissed at him and Tim is pissed at Bruce and Dick wasn't around for Tim to bitch about Bruce in person (and Tim would NEVER on a phone line, not even a secure one) then Dick is 1000% sure that Tim and Barbara have been having a shared and supportive bitch fest for however many weeks / months Dick was away that has just solidified them in a block of their own.

All of which means that Dick's little brother has been left unbothered, unnoogied and unsupervised for all the time Dick was away and like, sure, some people would think Dick would feel horrible for that and want to octopus-grab him and cuddle him but those people would be wrong because Dick is now honestly terrified to find out WHAT Tim has been up to without supervision and limits.

Between YJ, his civilian friends, his other friends in the superhero community, whatever new people Tim for sure rustled up, the lack of supervision on who Tim teams up with and for what, all the villain-frenemies he might have decided it was worth cooperating with, Tim being pissed at Bruce enough to keep a physical distance if not a communication distance...

And then, just as it is hitting Dick that, of course just keeping track on the phone was a bad idea to begin with why did he think that was a good idea and that what with Barbara and Tim in agreement and both Tim and Barbara at odds with Bruce and Alfred firmly entrenched in his usual If-Tim-Is-Handling-Master-Bruce-I-Will-Not-Hear-A-Thing-Against-The-Lad british politeness artillery position, this means that no one who would not enable him in the Wrong And Not Dick Approved Ways has been actually keeping as close track of Tim as he should have been kept track of (because *will smith hands memes* TIM!) ...

... Red Robin swings by, Azrael in tow, clearly going after Lynx.

And it's not that new Azrael that they had, which was still an Azrael but wasn't the Worst of the Azraels.

It's fucking Jean Paul Valley, who is supposed to be dead and clearly did not have the goddamn grace to decide to stay dead.

Dick, internally while outwardly having a BSOD moment: Tim. Tim you had just told Dick you were going to check out a couple of leads tonight. Tim why are you swinging from rooftops with JPV in tow. Tim why is JPV ALIVE. Why did you NOT tell Dick about it, TIM. TIM.

[firespirited]

Robbie Williams has always been aware of the fourth wall. He has that Bo Burnham sixth sense of the audience. He's been so self aware since his mid twenties that he talks like he can pre-hear his words filtered back at him by an editor happy with a money shot moment, by the tabloids cherry picking the quotes, an uncomfortable smirk on his face as each word lands as he expected it to like he's hearing echoes.

The man has a beyond choreographed, over-thought, over-media-savvy demeanour forged by being so incredibly visible and having to orchestrate his image. The very careful rascal pushing at the boundaries without losing your attention or affection.

It makes sense for him to be played by a CGI chimp, Robbie Williams has been a construct of a construct of authenticity since he was a kid. Which is not to say that Williams isn't real just that he's existed in a hall of mirrors so long he knows how to make eye contact with them all and it's uncanny.

The monkey forces a remove and brings back the human essense of this biopic. It makes us reconsider the overly exposed man.

I don't like musicals much and really don't like biopics that force a hero's journey framework on to lives that aren't at all that linear.

However, Better Man finds it's 'rise and fall and rise again' story by doing 1990-2001* and not his still eventful career and personal life in the past twenty years.

*there are songs from after 2001 used to score the film and likewise the Knebworth concerts were in 2003 but the film's arc ends with the Swing When You're Winning era.

The conceit of the monkey works: it feels authentic, it winks at itself. It knows that it's a mix and match jukebox film that's slightly out of order on events and very out of order for what songs were written when

... but it makes emotional sense. It makes more emotional sense than a straight documentary where where any interview with Robbie has five layers of irony and fame-meta bouncing off him.

It works whether you know him or not because it feels honest in its artifice. The core story is real.

The film has realistic scenes of drug use, self harm, suicidal ideation and some gruesome metaphorical-made-real fight scenes.

I get the sense that RW has been able to be so raw about this time in his life and still seem open despite being a very private person because this is a part of his life that hasn't belonged to him for a while, played out by a facet of himself. In many ways he's not even the same man.

It's hard to explain. Like, most biopics and documentaries about British celebs have a whole section about the shock of fame and the shock of the tabloids.

RW doesn't. He wanted fame for sure, and he saw the tabloids and their narratives coming. It was even part of his self harm to see himself in print being a mess. His relationship to himself partly played out in what he let the press, the music and the fandom reflect of him. I guess I *hope* he's not the same man and has a self that's entirely separate with his wife and kids that's none of our business.

Monkey film is worth watching as a human story and maybe as a warning to avoid chasing views, likes, etc instead of enjoying your craft.

[paleblood13]

A not so little Essay, about my love for Spawn Astarion

First of all, I want to write this bit, because I wholeheartedly agree with everything @michanvalentine wrote!

This post inspired me, to write my first own bit about my Love for Astarion and how this came to be.

Everything, that Astarion embodies, what we experience together with him during his story...

It is all pure Beauty.

First, I can agree, that to me, he is the most beautiful man I can possibly imagine.

Like you said, simply looking at his face and this beautiful hair or his expression, the way he moves and expresses himself (verbally and nonverbal)

I still catch myself beaming with joy, whenever I forget to play the game, to just look at him during dialogues or even in the background of other's dialogues😅

I'm an obsessive collector of screenshots of him, to catch every possible expression and angle of his face.

But that would certainly not be enough, to feed my obsession with him, for longer then a few weeks.

So, what is even more important?

Why do I have to admit, that I just love him?

It is strength he can find in showing vulnerability, in finally really feeling his feelings.

Experiencing his journey through all the bloodlust and pain and misery.

To fall for his simple plan (I certainly did. I remember feeling SO flustered by the first night we spend with him🫣)

To look beyond his mask during the mirror scene.

Even more so, by the time he proposed to spend a second night together.

What did he say? „I love you?" and why did he look so sad all of a sudden?

Did he even mean anything he said to me before?

Then suddenly, he hits you with a freight train!

His Act Il confession.

My palms were SO sweaty and I couldn't stop crying.

I was personally involved.

I, too, felt all these feelings.

It was like I was there with him.

Just wanting to comfort him, show him how much l care.

That I would wait forever, for any kind of physical touch.

This seductive, cynical, funny, strong man suddenly became a vulnerable, raw, precious, truly deserving of love and understanding, (REAL!) person.

Oh and how much I could relate to that.

How much strength and willpower it takes, to become vulnerable!

Even more so, if you are a man.

And a man, who learned so much vile behavior in his live, only to survive.

Vulnerability kills you!

Vulnerability gets your feelings hurt.

Because people aren't soft!

They aren not understanding.

These are all „fairytale princes", they don't exist!

So can you imagine the strength and trust you must possess, to make such a confession?

I don't know, if I could do that, after all these disappointments and all the hurt I personally experienced over and over again in my life!

And he clearly states it, when you decide to be with an other companion:

„You were a mistake! One I won't be making again!" Even if the confession didn't even happen yet, even if you aren't even „a thing" yet.

He got invested in this relationship.

Can you imagine this pale elf, being nervous all the time he is with you?

Because he has so much to say to you, but simply doesn't know how?

Or maybe he doesn't even know it himself yet.

There has to be a positive or negative trigger, to let the urgency within him become so strong, that he can't go on with out talking to you, about his feelings.

Which leads me to one more thing, that makes him stronger than you could give him credit for.

Imagine a feeling, an idea so abstract and foreign to you (like his affection/ love towards Durge/ Tav), that you can't even process them yourself.

But nonetheless, you take this step, trying to express them to the other person, because it became so important to you.

And all this with the expectation to possibly be turned down, hurt or even humiliated, by the other person.

Because you feel like you aren't lovable!

Because you are just there to be used.

Not to be cared for or loved or to be seen as a person.

But he confesses!

No matter the circumstances and his self- loathing.

Because he came to trust you and your heart.

This is one more thing, that will haunt me forever!

How beautiful this tender, slowly blooming love between him and Durge/ Tav is shown...

Once you avowed to be his partner, he is so devoted.

Because you don't want to fix or change him.

You agreed, that you could learn to love, to LIVE together!

Not just to love in general.

But to love each other.

In a unique, specific way that pays respect to both their necessities.

What it means to be alive.

Not stuck in survival mode!

But free and relaxed.

Not afraid of what the future holds or what other people may do to him.

Because you got each other's back!

And that's why his way to live physical attraction and intimacy changes so much over time.

How he learns to publicly display his love for his partner in every possible way.

When you kiss him, he leans into you.

Maybe even a little bit too much, because he goes like 2/3 of the way.

He grabs their hips (even both butt cheeks, if you look at it with the free cam) or softly cradles their head during the kiss.

He lingers just a bit longer after their kiss.

Smiling, taking in every detail of his partner’s face, not ready to let go just yet.

Although we both know, that I will ask again, if I can kiss him, within the next three minutes.🤭

Even the companions comment on Astarion and his partner not being able to keep their hands and mouths by themselves.

Because it isn't tainted.

It's pure, real and everything it means to be alive.

You are always by his side.

You care for him and support his path, to finally be free from his shackles!

Defeating Cazador may be the climax to his personal journey.

He frees himself from his control, mentally and physically.

He doesn't have to fear him anymore.

He can do whatever he wants.

But that's just, where the most important part of his story starts!

Because he wants to share his freedom, his LIFE, with YOU!

He can do whatever he wants and he chooses to be with you!

Because you are equals and he trusts you so much!

He even tells you, that only six months with you, are The counterweight to 200 years of misery!

What a statement!

What a thing to digest, again!

Imagine the importance of this statement, from a man, who wasn't able to understand his own feelings or the concept of being in love, just a few months ago!

There is still a long way to go.

He isn't healed, at the moment when the game ends.

But he became so much more, then what he was made to be!

And more importantly:

All by himself!

No matter if you romance him or not.

Unascended Astarion will always be „Radiant Hopeful“ by the end of the journey!

He found himself and found out, what kind of man he wants to be!

Not formed by a ritual or other people!

But by himself!

And that takes all strength and courage and willpower, one could possibly possess.

He is right and speaks for all of us when he says:

„This is a gift! I won't forget it!“🥹

[teambyler]

Will's anti-Vecna song should be David Bowie's "Heroes"

We know from the new BTS pic that he has headphones and a Walkman. Like Max, he might be fending off Vecna:

Max's anti-Vecna song was highly personal to her. It helped her through her guilt and depression and feeling like she deserved to die.

For Will, "Should I Stay or Should I Go" is cute, but it doesn't have emotional weight. It might have helped a child Will in the Upside Down in s1, when it made him think of home and Jonathan, but he's all grown up now. He's changed.

If Byler becomes realized, David Bowie's "Heroes" is the perfect song for Mike and Will's relationship that would help Will resist Vecna. It's canon that Will likes David Bowie: kid Mike prefers the androgynous rock star over Kenny Rogers (s2e1).

@surferbeto on YouTube comments:

This is a heroic love song. Bowie starts out crooning but pretty soon he ramps up and belts it out hard. This song is about risking getting shot by East German border police and dragged over barbed wire for love. This is about young love against impossible odds. It's about that gloriously tragic fantasy... of giving our life in some grandly romantic way to save the life of our beloved. Maybe by taking a bullet for them and dying in their arms in the shadow of the Berlin Wall.

Having David Bowie's "Heroes" in the show would call-back to Peter Gabriel's somber 2010 cover from s1, when Mike hugged his mom thinking Will was dead. But Bowie's original is defiant, triumphant, and bittersweet. (Seriously, if you haven't yet, listen to it before reading further. It's perfect.)

It would play when Mike and Will have their first kiss. Their song of losing each other is now of finding each other.

If Byler is realized, it could play as Mike and Will dare to hold hands in the school hall, as we fade out to the end credits.

Will would put it on his Walkman. If Will and Mike are bullied for their relationship, "Heroes" perfectly expresses their defiance and willingness to love each other despite the harm that might come to them.

It's the song that would most help Will in case he gets Vecna'd. It doesn't just remind him of Mike; it culminates his journey over the five seasons. As a kid he told Jonathan he's not a baby, not just a victim. Despite seeming shy and weak, he has a huge amount of quiet courage, but his struggle in s3 and s4 was largely internal. ("I'm not gonna fall in love.") Show creator Matt Duffer says about s5: "Will's going to be a big part and focus... We're starting to see his coming of age, really... You're starting to see him come into his own." If Byler becomes real, then his fight becomes external, confronting the homophobia in Hawkins and the literal hell threatening his friends. He will rise to the occasion.

"Will really takes center stage again in [season] 5," Ross Duffer told Variety. "This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality – it’s Will coming into his own as a young man."

In s2, Will only allowed Mike to protect him because he didn't feel pitied by Mike; Mike saw his strength. A stronger Will will pay him back and protect him from the twin dangers they face.

It's Will's turn to be the hero. His fight for others is his fight for himself. "Heroes" perfectly expresses his journey of defying all odds to fight for HIS RIGHT TO LOVE.

-teambyler

[red-room-studi0]

Silent Hill: Gone Turbo

HE IS HERE AND HE IS HERE TO SUFFER!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

I will now tell the tale of this silly little guy ✨

In this Au, Litwak’s arcade is located in Silent Hill.

This event happens after the road blasters incident and after the Arcade closes temorarily for a while. 

Turbo and the Twins never survived the Road Blasters incident. But the day the arcade closed, Turbo was reborn inside the arcade in human form. Turbo wakes up seeing the arcade empty and confused as to why he’s inside an empty arcade. The cabinet games were looked to have been shut down (in the real world the cames are still plugged in and still running). Turbo’s memory of his life and what he had done has been erased. He only remembers his own name the Twins, Glitching and the town he lives in. 

Turbo exits the Arcade and wanders the ghost town and takes time to get used to the environment and take time to think and all that stuff. Turbo eventually comes to the theory that the Twins are probably somewhere in the town and decides to go out and find them. In the typical Silent Hill fashion, He runs into monsters, people who are also looking for someone or something, people who want to kill him and all that stuff.

During Turbo’s journey he learns more about the town, The Order, the fire incident and just about anything there is to know about the town. 

The twins ARE present. But the’re only visibly seen by Turbo and are not there for him for any good intentions. The twins exist in the Town as demonic spirits to Turbo to torment Turbo, ofc Turbo doesn’t remember what he has done until later and would live the rest of his human life in guilt and regret after defeating the twins. 

Turbo would finally understand why he was reborn in the town. The monster infested town is his Hell. And he has to forever live in it until he finally accepts what he has done and forgives himself for it and promises himself and the arcade to be a better person. 

There are Four endings you can choose from bassed on how you would like the ending to be.

Turbo moves on and forgives himself and decides to be a better person and forgive himself on what he has done. Turbo in this ending decides to find Litwack and help him through harsh times becoming his close friend and help him run the Arcade.

Turbo never forgives himself and forever blames himself for what he has done to hurt his twin friends that he was close too like they were his siblings (Turbo and the Twins are not related) and other people (even before the Road Blasters incident). He decides to forever force and drown himself in his sorrows, guilt and pain. forever live in the alternate nightmare of the town that is his Hell. Forever.

The UFO ending (if you’re a Silent Hill fan then you know lol-)

The Dog ending (again if ur a Silent Hill fan, you know)

Side Story: This is mostly about Litwack and as to why the Arcade has Temporarily closed.

Mr. Litwak’s wife had fallen severely ill to an unknown disease after Road Blasters and Turbo Time got unplugged. A week later Litwaks wife succumbs to the illness. Litwak becomes severely depressed and temprorarily closes the Arcade so he can get well and make funeral arrangements. Litwak never had another employee or assistant to help him continue run the Arcade during harsh times.

FUN FACTS: As a way for Turbo to save his progress, he uses an Nintendo NES console to save. He uses an unknown NES cartridge to put in the console and save. Throught the process of Turbo’s journey, the image on the cartridge slowly appears and becomes visible. Once fully visible the game title and image reveals to be “Turbo Time”. Which unlocks another memory for Turbo.

Another fun fact, at a point through Turbo’s journey he comes across two red cars that appeared to have collided into eachother. One is fully red and the other is red with a familiar white stripe. The white striped car seems to be the one that has caused the crash and looks to have “T boned” into the other car. The person in the car appears to be dead and looks to be veary familliar to a racer dressed in all white. The face though is completely unrecognizable as the face has been completely crushed and disfigured. A gold medal sits next to the dead body and is ised to unlock a door (yay know like your typical horror game puzzle/key fashion). This unlocks another vague memory, but Turbo didn’t know that the dead body was supposed to represent him after the incident. 

Another fun fact: Turbo’s last name “Torrenz” was a last name he had given himself from a poster when he was talking to a cop.

ANYWAY thx for reading! This was actually sm fun to makkkeeeee hehehehehehe 💖💖💖

[bg-brainrot]

Sorry to bring the horny but what are your spicy headcanons for Astarion? (Ascended and spawn version)

No need to apologize anon-- this is a safe space for horny 🫰🏽

And ooo I haven't done any spicy headcanons before! I've only done the rogue!Tav ones before, but let me take a crack at it since I definitely have thoughts 🧐

Let's see... Spicy Astarion Headcanons w/GN!Tav (18+ Explicit warning ⚠️ all are set post-personal quest ⚠️ TW: Astarion's trauma)

Spawn Astarion

While he's not wholly comfortable engaging in intimacy for a while, he does enjoy exploring, testing out new ways to touch each other, figuring out what he likes/dislikes. There are stumbles along the way, and his healing journey is naturally not linear, but when he finds a few things he does like, the two of you are all too eager to capitalize on them.

One of those things is how much he enjoys looking into your face as you come. Whether you're in his lap, standing in front of him, laying before him-- he's finds it so much easier to stay connected and in the moment when he's looking directly into your eyes, watching you come undone to his touch.

Always a playful man, he also relishes taking his time with foreplay. Long, lingering touches, deep, kneading massages, soft, brushing lips... it's almost painful how slowly he enjoys taking his time to work you up, enjoys the same in return. But, gods, is it just as lovely.

Once he realizes how much you enjoy the sound of his voice, whispered right into your ear-- he can't stop murmuring loving little things to you. At first, you worry it's an act. After all, so were his initial sweet, honeyed words. But when he's losing all control, moaning a stuttering 'I love you' into your ear as his movements falter, you know that none of this is an act.

Despite maintaining a lot of his composure with you initially-- again, an act-- once he feels safe, comfortable in your arms, his carefully crafted composure falls to something real and a lot more sloppy. His dexterity and control seems to plummet in the heat of the moment, his fingers stumble in his eagerness. More than a few times, the two of you are left laughing, breathless as he finishes quickly or your latest exploration fails.

While he's happy to pleasure you, it takes some experimentation before he's comfortable with you reciprocating. In part because it's what he was used to, seducing targets for Cazador, but also because he's just not sure what he likes. The first time he enjoys your pleasuring him, you do it over his clothing, slowly, grinding the full length of him as he directs your hand with his.

More than anything, he needs to feel you, warm and alive, pressed against him after the fact. Sweaty, hair askew, blood usually trickling from a bite wound, he loves you most post-climax. And whether or not you'll have another go is immaterial, because, in the moment, all he wants is to drown himself in your mortality.

He never says it, but many of his favorite things are things he was never able to do in the 200 years of cruelty under Cazador. Looking into your eyes, telling you he loves you genuinely, taking his time, messing up-- all of them are new for him, ways of reclaiming his body and his sexuality.

Since beginning to re-explore his boundaries, his favorite situation together is you seated in his lap, your foreheads pressed together, your hands clutching his shoulders for support while he rolls into you, his own hands gripping your ass. When he's close, he whispers onto your lips, "Gods, you feel so good. Love, I-I can never last with you like this, can I?" When he comes, his lips meet yours, his hands wrap around your back-- as if trying to meld you to him.

Ascended Astarion

After ascending, he is eager to try out all of the new things his power affords him-- this includes his new body heat. With your own new undead form, he feels all the more alive. The first time he realizes what a thrill it is to have your cold body pressed against his heat, he can't get enough. He spends an entire day directing you to touch him, shivering in the wake of your chill touches.

And now that he can taste, he also wants to taste you-- everywhere. Not just your blood, but your sweat, your tears as you come for him. He will lap at you like a man possessed, all the while telling you how good you taste, how he would tear the hells apart for a mere drop of your release. His mouth, already such a potent drug, is relentless in its exploration of your flavors.

When it comes to the other attributes of mortal men he's received, why, his sex drive is through the roof. Every time he sees you make someone grovel before you, witnesses you exert your power, he can feel himself growing hard at the sight. More than anything, he wants to take you right then and there -- but he stills his hand, waiting until the day you're both seated on his throne.

While he doesn't go so far (yet), he makes no move to hide how he feels about you, often demanding your attention afterward with no more than a look, a finger curl, and a lick of his lips. It's a silent claim as well, showing anyone brave enough to watch whose consort you are.

As his consort, he will do everything in his power to ensure that you're taken care of. This means that, even if you think you're satisfied, Astarion will continue to tend to you, bringing you to climax after climax. It's only when you're left an utter, blubbering mess that he knows he's done enough.

He loves feeling that control over your pleasure. Above all else, he loves knowing that you, a powerful adventurer, crumble before him like anyone else. That thought drives him-- it means he fucks you often, he fucks you hard, and hells does he fuck you at a pace the gods would balk at.

As far as his own satisfaction goes, he's quite vocal about it now. He tells you exactly what he wants and when he wants it. When you stray the course, try something new, his hand is at your head, your neck, your waist-- keeping you right where he wants you.

He's also quite liberal in his praise of you, always ready to tell his beautiful consort what a pretty little mess they are for him, how lovely they feel when they clench around him, how their body could bring the very world to ruin with its perfection.

Since ascending, his new favorite situation is you on your knees, cold mouth around his cock, eyes watering, hands desperately trying to pleasure yourself, all while he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, holding your head in place, whispering down silky sweet words of encouragement, "That's it, my treasure. Yes, gods, you take me so well. More. More. Yes, just like that. Give me everything." After he spends himself into your mouth, he will always be quick to bend down for a kiss, eager to taste himself on your lips.

[so-idialed-9]

The things Liam carried

Liam carried a pleading to not be misunderstood, to be perceived in the right way, the way he intended. He carried the crushing responsibility of the band acting like a REAL band, being on time and groomed and generally on talking points and practicing hard, and the harm of parentification among those who should have been his peers. He carried deep love for all the boys and a soul bond with Zayn, always.

He carried a deep, terrified drive not to be told he is too young or not quite good enough ever, ever again. That tide was out and that could not be allowed to come again. But the sea returned, every time, relentlessly and without regard.

He carried a well of mischief and joy it took "his boys" 1D to tap into.

He carried PowerAde bottles to have a moment of pure bliss and joyful chaos on stage with his best friend, Louis. And he carried that memory home and framed it in a photo and looked at it every day in his bedroom and smile and talk about his best friend, even if Louis didn't call as much anymore. Liam was still waiting.

He carried a tendency to punish himself when he was in the darkness instead of finding a light. Not just drinking, but surrounding himself with the worst people - managers who beat him, labels who sent him on crap venues for tour, labels who pulled his album that he'd cried over to make, dudebro promoters and podcasters who wanted to spend him like cheap currency....and Simon Cowell. And a fame whore "ex" who, no matter which version you believe, still comes out as a person who lied for social media clout, heard him say he would likely die and laughed at him, who faked her own engagement buying an engagement ring for her social media, giving absolute record level of cringe, and used Liam's name to sell her stalled books.

Did he know know who he deserved? Did he not know how to get that? Did he just believe, "Well, they can't be THAT awful"?

He was a beam of sunshine overlaying a secret Batman, ripping out his own heart to feed fires. His light illuminates all around him, he was always feeding fans and caring, always sharing his art and therapy and sobriety and precious stories from 1D he could have hoarded and made a book about but instead gave them away with love to create even more love.

If this were the TV show Lucifer, he'd obviously be Lucifer, an angel of light, a favorite son, who is cast out of heaven by what he thought loved him, and trying to find a new way of being after losing so much, who has to go on a journey to find his purpose.

He was a man who almost had it figured out - from black and white - getting to film that TV show where he was helping put together and mentor boy bands was going to be so healing for him. The confidence he never got to pick up!

I believe 1D were starting to reunite - Harry's incessant touristy behavior then disappearing like he said he would, Louis' saying he needs time off to "let life in," Niall abruptly disappearing saying "you won't see me anymore for a long time." It could have given back Liam his friends, his network, his brothers, if only he could have survived long enough.

There is always something better around the corner. I would give anything for Liam James Payne to have the chance, just once more, to believe that.

[anonymousewrites]

Pearl of the Sea Chapter Nineteen

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Journeying to the Locker

Summary: (Y/N) finally finds their way to Davy Jones's Locker and Jack.

            “Our new friend in Singapore was very specific,” said Mercer. He stood in Beckett’s cabin on his ship, the HMS Endeavor. After the fight on Singapore, he had returned to report on the intel they’d recovered. “Nine pieces of eight.”

            “What’s the significance of that, I wonder,” remarked Beckett.

            “Nothing can hold against the armada,” said Mercer. “Not with the Flying Dutchman at the lead.”

            “Did your friend figure mention where the Brethren Court are meeting?” said Beckett.

            “He was mum on that, sir,” said Mercer distastefully.

            Beckett hummed thoughtfully. “Then he knows the value of information. Better keep this between ourselves. We don’t want anyone running off to Singapore, do we?”

            Mercer and Beckett looked at former Governor Swann. He was stuck at his desk, always under a watchful eye, only a face to provide comfort to those that weren’t sure about Beckett. He was useful to have around.

            “And (Y/N) Swann?” said Beckett.

            “They escaped,” said Mercer.

            Beckett tsked. “How troublesome.” The door to the cabin opened, and Beckett glanced up. “Ah, Admiral.”

            “You summoned me, Lord Beckett,” said Norrington.

            “Yes. Something for you there,” said Beckett. He looked at a box, and Norrington faced it in confusion. “Your new station deserves an old friend.”

            Norrington opened the box. He found the sword crafted by Will staring up at him. He lifted it reverently.

            “The Brethren know they face extinction,” said Beckett. “All that remains is for them to decide where they make their final stand.”

l

            The freezing cold air swirled around (Y/N) and the other pirates. Frost had long since settled over the ship as they sailed as north as they could go.

            “No one said anything about cold,” groaned Pintel.

            “I’m sure there must be a good reason for our suffering,” stammered Ragetti through the chill.

            “Why didn’t that witch woman bring Jack back the same way she brought back Barbossa?” grumbled Pintel.

            “Because Barbossa was only dead,” said Tia Dalma.

            Pintel and Ragetti jumped as she appeared.

            “Jack Sparrow is taken, body and soul, to a place not of death but of punishment,” said Tia Dalma, gaze dark. “The worst fate a person can bring upon himself…stretching on forever. That’s what awaits at Davy Jones’s Locker.”

            She strolled by.

            Ragetti swallowed. “Yeah. I knew there was a good reason.”

            (Y/N) sat and watched Will figure out the strange, rotational charts. Slowly but surely, they were finding their way to Jack. He lifted the charts and handed them to Barbossa. (Y/N) stood and looked at them over his shoulder.

            The disks of the charts had been moved to spell out several words. “Over the edge over again. Sunrise sets. Flash of green.”

            “Do you care to interpret, Captain Barbossa?” said Will.

            “Ever gazed upon the green flash, laddie?” said Barbossa, grinning at (Y/N).

            “No. I’ve read about them. Are they real?” said (Y/N).

            “Aye,” said Barbossa. “Mr. Gibbs, seen them?”

            “I’ve seen my fair share. The last glimpse of sunset, a green flash shoots up into the sky,” said Gibbs. “Some go their whole lives without ever seeing it. Some claim to have seen it who ain’t. And some say…”

            “It signals when a soul comes back to this world from the dead,” said Pintel eagerly. Gibbs glared. “Sorry.”

            “Trust me, young Master Turner,” said Barbossa. “It’s not getting to the land of the dead that’s the problem.” He turned the ship violently. “It’s getting back.”

            They sailed into a large cavern. (Y/N) closed their eyes as they felt an energy sweep in with the water. It just felt…different. A shiver ran down their spine, and they nearly reached into the freezing water.

            Tia Dalma watched their expression change, and she glanced down at their arms. The wind rippled over their shirt, and there was a slight shine on their arms. It was gone as soon as it came, but Tia Dalma narrowed her eyes. She had seen it. Of course she had. Every part of the sea was clear to her.

l

            Beckett and Mercer stood on the Endeavour’s deck and looked at the destruction the Flying Dutchman had wrought on another ship.

            “Bloody hell. There’s nothing left,” said Beckett, frustration lacing his words.

            “Jones is a loose cannon, sir,” said Mercer.

            “Fetch the chest,” said Beckett.

            “And the governor? He’s been asking questions about the heart,” reported Mercer.

            “Does he know?” questioned Beckett. Mercer looked at him with narrowed eyes, and Beckett raised a brow. “Then perhaps his usefulness has run its course.” He turned to Mercer. “You may be inclined to bring him with you for a little visit to Jones.”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Mercer.

            A few minutes later, platoon of sailors rowed towards the Dutchman. The burning remains of a pirate ship floated around them, and corpses bobbed in the water. There were no sounds in the air save the organ playing on board the Dutchman, and that sound held no joy or life. It was as dark and empty-hearted as the player.

            However, despite his men’s fear at boarding the ship of monsters, Mercer was as efficient as ever. He ordered them aboard with muskets and gazed out at the servants of Jones without a care in the world. The monsters looked around at the guns trained on them, and the soldiers swallowed at the strange, sea-creature faces looking back at them.

            “Steady, men,” said Norrington, also keeping a strong face.

            Jones barged to the front of the crowd and glared as the chest with his heart was carried towards him.

            “Go. All of you,” he snapped. “And take that infernal thing with you. I will not have it on my ship!”

            “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that…because I will.” Beckett stepped forward with his usual condescending tone. “Because it seems to be the only way to ensure that this ship do as expected by the company.” He flicked his cane, and Norrington brought the guards with the chest into the hull. “We need prisoners to interrogate,” continued Beckett while Jones bristled. “Which tends to work best when they’re alive.”

            “The Dutchman sails as its captain commands,” snapped Jones.

            “And its captain is to sail as commanded,” said Beckett. He stepped forward. “I would have thought you’d learned that when I ordered you to kill your pet.” He took immense pleasure in the way Jones’s shoulders fell at the reminder of the kraken’s fate. “This is no longer your world, Jones. The immaterial has become…immaterial.” He turned away before pausing. He cast a careless glance behind him. “And should you come across any of the former crew of the Black Pearl…” He narrowed his eyes. “I want all but the child killed. Bring them to me, if you’d please.” It wasn’t a request, and they all knew it.

l

            (Y/N) stared in amazement at the sea of stars they sailed on. They were reflected in the water, but the surface was so mirror-like that they seemed to be flying through the night sky. Millions of stars shone around them, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. It was a magical sight that they would treasure for the rest of their life.

            Then a wind swept by and blew the slight mist away from the water. (Y/N) frowned and peered out into the darkness. Other forms floated across the sky in small boats, but they were too far away to be properly made out.

            “Barbossa, ahead!” Will shouted.

            “Aye, we’re good and lost now,” said Barbossa, pleased with himself as he steered.

            “Lost?” That got everyone’s attention.

            “For certain you have to be lost to find a place that can’t be found!” said Barbossa. “Elseways, everyone would know where it was.”

            Everyone stared.

            “Well, that makes as much sense as anything else we do,” said (Y/N), accepting the situation.

            “We’re gaining speed!” warned Gibbs.

            “Aye,” said Barbossa with another grin.

            “To stations!” said Will. “Rudder full. Hard aport! Gather way!”

            “Nay! Belay that,” said Barbossa. “Let her run straight and true!”

            “Blimey,” gasped Ragetti, and everyone turned to see what he was staring at.

            A waterfall was approaching. They were about to drop over the side of a void into a further nothingness (which somehow had made sense).

            “You’ve doomed us all!” said Elizabeth.

            “Don’t be so unkind,” said Barbossa. “You may not survive to pass this way again, and these be the last friendly words you’ll hear.”

            “So we’re touring our afterlife, how wonderful,” said (Y/N), holding on to the side of the ship as the group ran around in a panic. “At least it’s pretty!”

            They plunged over the edge.

l

            Jack paced around the stranded Pearl. It sat on a pure white, flat land that extended out forever was far as he could see. He hated it there, in the Locker. He was losing his mind with only himself to talk to, no wind, no sea.

            No (Y/N).

            After returning to help them, he hadn’t forgotten them. He missed them. They had become like family, and the moment he realized that was the moment he was ripped away from them.

            Jack kicked a rock in frustration. If he got back to them, he swore that there would be no more lying, no more double-crossing, no more betrayals—aimed at them. (Y/N) was his kid, his Pearl.

            He froze as a skittering sound echoed in the silence around him. He turned and looked down to find the exact same rock lying next to him. Jack frowned.

            “Now we’re being followed by rocks,” he said. “Never had that before.”

            He turned away and tried to make himself useful by grabbing a rope and dragging the Black Pearl with him. Obviously, that didn’t work.

            Another skitter. He hesitatingly turned to find a crab, not a rock, staring at him. A field of rocks stood behind it. One by one, they shook and popped open to reveal crabs. They marched forward and picked up the Pearl.

            Jack watched in shock as the ship sailed with the crabs. It was among the most surreal sights he had ever seen. He stood frozen for a good long moment before straightening. He wanted wind? He got crabs.

            Jack would take what he could get. He ran like a madman after the ship.

l

            (Y/N) pulled themself out of the sea and into the sun. They had fallen for who knew how long, splashed into water, and were somehow alive on a beach (they didn’t question where they’d fallen from, the sky they guessed, it was the Locker). (Y/N) stretched as everyone else straggled out of the water. The ship had been destroyed, and very little supplies had washed up with them. The other pirates were exhausted and struggling, but (Y/N) just watched.

            “This truly is a godforsaken place,” said Gibbs. He spoke the first words as he surveyed the empty desert that was the Locker. The air was still, and the sun beat down. No life was present.

            “I don’t see Jack,” said (Y/N), bouncing on the balls of their feet.

            “I don’t see anyone,” said Elizabeth.

            “He’s here,” said Barbossa confidently. “Davy Jones never once gave up what he took.”

            “And does it matter?” snapped Will. “We’re trapped here by your doing. No different than Jack.”

            “Witty Jack is closer than you think,” said Tia Dalma. She held a rock-like crab in her hand and petted its carapace. She looked at the dunes, and (Y/N) followed her gaze. Their eyes widened.

            The Black Pearl was cresting a wave of sand with crabs at its base. In the crow’s nest, Jack perched and looked out at them. Everyone just stared as the Pearl slid down the dune, over the beach, and neatly into the water.

            “Boat,” said Ragetti, dumb with shock.

            “Slap me thrice and hand me to me mama,” said Gibbs. “It’s—”

            “Jack!”

            (Y/N) ran over the beach towards the Pearl. Jack had already descended from the boat and was wading back towards the group. He looked at them warily as they ran towards them. If this was another trick of the Locker, a new form of torture of his mind to drive him mad by the nonexistence presence of his friends and family, Jack couldn’t handle.

            “Jack!” (Y/N) nearly tackled him in a hug.

            It was real. Jack grinned and hugged him back. “I’m glad to see you,” he said quietly. “Pearl.”

            (Y/N)’s head jerked up at the word, a question in their eyes, but the others ran up behind them before they could respond.

            “It’s the captain!” said Gibbs. “A sight for sore eyes.”

            (Y/N) and Jack stepped back from one another.

            “Mr. Gibbs,” said Jack.

            “Jack Sparrow.” Barbossa stepped forward.

            Jack turned to him. “Oh, Hector. It’s been too long. Hasn’t it?”

            “Aye. Isla de Muerta, remember? You shot me,” said Barbossa.

            “No, I didn’t,” said Jack brightly. It was a bald-faced lie, but what did he care?

            “Tia Dalma, out and about, eh?” said Jack to her. “You add an agreeable sense of the macabre to any delirium.”

            Tia Dalma smiled unpleasantly.

            “He thinks we’re a hallucination,” said Will.

            “Nope! I know the laddie is real,” said Jack, grinning. “No one else has their sense of…” He waved a hand. “Sea-ness?”

            “Thank you?” said (Y/N).

            “Now, William, tell me: have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressing damsel, or rather, damsel in distress?” said Jack. “Either one.”

            “No,” said Will curtly.

            “Well, then, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” said Jack. “So you can’t be here. QED, you’re not really here.”

            “Jack, we’re real,” said (Y/N). “Not just me.”

            Jack narrowed his eyes. “You might be losing your mind, too. You seem like the type.”

            “Trust me,” said (Y/N).

            Jack stared at them. It felt like the truth. They had faith in him; he’d have faith in them.

            “Jack.” Elizabeth urged him to listen to them.

            Jack looked at her and stepped back. He preferred not to see her, especially in the flesh after what had happened.

            “We’ve come to rescue you,” said Elizabeth.

            “Have you, now? That’s very kind of you,” said Jack. “But it would seem that as I possess a ship and you don’t, you’re the ones in need of rescuing, and I’m not sure as I’m in the mood.” He spun and faced (Y/N). “You’re welcome to come, laddie.”

            “I would prefer for everyone to come,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “I see my ship. Right there.” Barbossa gestured to the Black Pearl.

            “Can’t spot it,” said Jack. “Must be a tiny little thing hiding somewhere behind the Pearl.”

            “Jack, Cutler Beckett has the heart of Davy Jones,” said Will. “He controls the Flying Dutchman.”

            “He’s taking over the seas,” said Elizabeth.

            “The song has been sung. The Brethren Court is called,” said Tia Dalma.

            “Leave you alone for a minute, look what happens. Everything’s gone to pot,” said Jack.

            “Aye, the world needs you back something fierce,” said Gibbs.

            “And you need a crew,” said Will.

            Jack faced them all. “Why should I sail with any of you other than (Y/N)? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past. One of you succeeded.” He pointed at Elizabeth.

            “What?” (Y/N) whirled on her.

            “Oh. She’s not told you,” said Jack. Elizabeth shifted guiltily and avoided (Y/N)’s devastated expression. “You’ll have loads to talk about while you’re here.” He looked at the crew. “Now, (Y/N)’s in.” He looked at Tia Dalma. “As for you…”

            “Now don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it at the time,” she said, smirking.

            “Fair enough. Alright, you’re in,” said Jack. “Don’t need you.” Ragetti. “You scare me.” Barbossa. “Gibbs, you can come. Marty.” He cast a distasteful look at Pintel. “Cotton.” He nodded approvingly, and the parrot squawked (it has survived miraculously). “Cotton’s parrot, I’m a little iffy, but at least I’ll have someone to talk to.” He faced the Singaporean pirates and frowned. “Who are you?”

            “Tai Huang. These are my men,” said Tai.

            “Where do your allegiances lie?” said Jack.

            “With the highest bidder,” said Tai.

            “I have a ship,” said Jack cheerfully.

            “That makes you the highest bidder,” said Tai practically.

            “Good man. Weigh anchor, all hands!” said Jack. “Prepare to make sail.”

            “Jack,” said (Y/N), looking pointedly away from Elizabeth. “You have to take everyone.”

            Jack groaned.

            “They have the charts to get out of here,” pointed out (Y/N). “And I won’t leave them behind.” They crossed their arms, and their stormy eyes pierced Jack’s.

            Jack sighed. His soft spot for his kid was going to grow frustrating.

Taglist:

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@roo024

[pensbridge]

Sometimes I see too many stupid takes that I think it's sad that people misunderstand Colin and Penelope so much...

that they still think Colin would cheat even with deleted scene proof showing it was always exactly the opposite..

that they think Penelope would ask for an annulment for her own benefit as if this girl has not shown time and time again that she cares about Colin's happiness and would put her own + security up in the air..

that Colin is his own character and outside of the Penelope romance arc he has his own journey that you, a real person, need not be insecure about when the fictional character (Penelope) is not at all..

that Colin not sleeping with Penelope on the night of their wedding is not a direct reflection of him being mad at her that he is "punishing" her, but that it is a direct reflection of who he is as a character that could not bring himself to indulge in his truest desires as he's been shutting her out (and that's better than having a passionate night and leaving her alone emotionally after the fact until he can get his mind to catch up with his heart)..

that Penelope and Colin are in love and nearly every critique someone brings up circles back to a misunderstanding of this story and the entire narrative of how they choose each other..

that they are not bad people, but people working overtime to hate on the 2 individuals conveniently have nothing to criticize when you could make a claim for each and every character. how Anthony is a rake who chose to lead along a young woman, who just so happened to be his future wife's sister, all the way to the altar & pivoted away from his wife after a moment to propose to, said, sister in public, causing potential issues of shame at a later date to deal with. how Eloise can be selfish and tunnel-visioned. and how Kate was dishonest, like Lady Whistledown, (except) to her own sister, hiding her personal feelings as she was to be stuck in a marriage where her husband never wanted her.

...so sad that they are still talking about matters that have been confirmed and debunked time and time again...and then I see the unexpected bright side: that polin is so popular that they can't keep their name out of their mouth and are so mad they are still fighting about things that made those of us who understood where this story was going for monthsss happy, and that plots they find time to whine about will inevitably never be changed. Yay for us!