#like frighteningly so

[cursedwithwords]

HP Next Gen Headcanons: Lily

Full Name: Lily Luna Potter

House: Gryffindor

Wand: ebony and unicorn hair

Patronus: snowy owl

Boggart: Dementor (like her father, she's more afraid of being afraid than anything really)

Profession: Seeker in the League

Sexuality: straight

Image(picrew):

Bonus: Loves accessories, the shinier the better. Got into a fist fight her first week of school because she heard someone trashing Albus. Continued to get into fist fights now and again throughout her seven years at school. Her aesthetic can be summed up by "skinned knees and pretty skirts" or "bloody knuckles and painted nails". Very femme fatale and proud of it. Absolutely worships her older brothers but is also down to clown on them because duh. A daddy's girl, she's got Harry wrapped around her finger. She WILL bite you. Violently protective of her friends and family. Gets along with Victoire the least of all her cousins.

[azurecanary]

"Misfits and Magic is a love letter to hp, and them saying "Fuck terfs" doesn't change that"

No but, and i cannot stress this enough, the literal ENTIRE FRICKIN PLOT OF SEASON ONE does

[somsonsomsoff]

headcanons for the employers have somehow turned into a crossover with de skills

[mayhemspreadingguy]

@magnusbae, not expecting I'd follow through, suggested to sketch Anakin but with cat fangs... Things got out of hand.

Also, look! Magnusbae gifted me with a most lovely fic inspired by my art (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) (fic under the cut, 3,800+ words).

That’s it. Anakin had resisted long enough. 

All through morning, noon and even dinner. He had done his Katas, had finished his chores, even went through his studies, all without so much as a single comment. He deserves to be commended personally by Master Yoda for being an exemplary Jedi. He deserves to be knighted right this moment seeing how he never even mentioned just how force karked awful his Master’s hair looked like for the past week. Sticking in all directions, it grows in uneven patches, the addition of a beard is somehow making his elegant Master look like a beggar from the streets and that, that is intolerable. 

Anakin growls quietly, muscles tense. He knows his Master most likely can feel him staring holes through him, and yet he simply continues reading his datapad, not asking nor looking, radiating calm in the force. Anakin wonders if he could tidy that mess with the power of thought alone. Would that be considered a frivolous use of the force? Even if done in the service of the republic? After all, his Master’s good looks are the cornerstone of the… 

Obi-Wan scratches at the back of his head, clearly bothered and Anakin can’t tolerate this anymore, cannot accept this anymore. His tongue is itching something fierce, his hands are sweating, he cannot sit still like there’s fire ants filling his pants and crawling up his spine. He cannot tolerate this. If not for himself, he must do this for his Master. If not for his Master, then for the order. If not for the order, then for the Galaxy. If not for the Galaxy, then for the Force itself. For he can swear by all that he holds dear that the Force itself is embarrassed by his Master being so unkempt, so ungroomed. 

Unacceptable. This is absolutely unacceptable. His Master has to always look neat and nice and put together, smelling fresh and looking proper. That’s the only right way for his Master to be. Anakin will not stand for it being any other way. He will not. He will make it right. 

His Master ignores the first lick. He often does that, pretends to not notice in the hopes of Anakin stopping after catching himself at his instincts. Oftentimes it works. Oftentimes it is an accident. But not this time. This time it’s very much on purpose and very much intended to continue until Anakin is satisfied with the results. All Anakin needs is for his Master to continue pretending to not notice long enough for him to fix this mess. 

Two more licks, lower neck up the scratchy beard and—

“Anakin—” his Master stops pretending so suddenly that Anakin’s tongue moves over his jawline and across the beard in a way that tickles funny. Anakin likes how it feels, rough and interesting, makes him curious about how it’ll feel like to lick across the jawline, where the beard is the thickest.

Knowing he does not have much time before his Master attempts to stop him altogether, Anakin leans in with renewed urgency, tongue ready, mouth starting to water— “Anakin, stop!” a strong hand pushes against his shoulder, moving him a distance away without being as rough as to push. 

“Mrrphh!” Anakin protests, pushing against the hand but not fighting it actively. His Master can be so bossy when he gets like this, so unreasonable. The only way to win is to use his words, otherwise his Master might just walk off and hide in his rooms instead. Or worse, go meditate in the halls, where everyone will see this shameful disaster.

“You need the grooming, Master!” Anakin starts with the foundation and heart of his objection. His Master always teaches that it’s important to be able to pinpoint the problem early on and address it quickly so as to not let it fester and become bigger than it must be. Granted his Master spoke of interpersonal disputes however it absolutely does apply here. His Master simply cannot deny this reasoning, ergo, will not be able to dispute it as untrue. “So just let me!” Anakin adds, before his Master could somehow find a way to object.

Can’t his Master see that Anakin is offering him a service? Out of the kindness of his heart, no less. Him enjoying the way his Master’s flavor sits on his tongue, the way it makes all the small hairs on his body stand on end, how it fills him with excitement— His Master’s scent, rich and spiced and safe— how he favors it above all else even when the exotic teas make him sneeze and sneeze— the way a single point of contact would narrow his senses into a single point of focus, clear his mind of all worries— the way his vision relaxes, the way his nostrils flare and he inhales and inhales and inhales— the way his heartbeat peaks and then slows, the way his mouth goes dry and he feels thirsty, hungry even— all that, all that has nothing to do with his altruistic motivations. He’s just looking out for his Master. Obviously, duh. 

“Master.” He can hear his own voice, can hear how it takes a whiny note his Master often teases him for. It’s hard to care when he has a goal bigger than his own ego. “Just let me.” He demands, he can hear it and he still doesn’t stop himself from reaching for his Master’s flowing robes, claws catching on the material and making him shudder. Maybe he does need trimming just like his Master insists each time they spar. Maybe Anakin will allow it, if his Master is good and allows him this. Maybe he’d even let his Master groom him too.

The bewilderment in the force clues Anakin on the fact that yes, maybe he did forget to shield, again. He huffs through his nose, wrinkling it. He really doesn’t know what the big deal with this is, doesn’t understand the obsession everyone and especially his Master, has with hiding every single urge and instinct and thought they have. It’s not like he thinks anything he wouldn’t also say out loud. Maybe if the Jedi used less of those shields, it would have been much easier to communicate with them, to bond with them, and maybe then he’d feel less like an outsider, like an odd bird out of its cage.

“Oh Anakin..” Obi-Wan sighs, the tension loosening from his hold against his shoulder, rather than scolding, there’s the hints of the sadness his Master expresses each time Anakin feels alienated in this place. It is not his fault no one understands him, it is not his fault he is different than everyone. 

“Master.” Anakin chirps back, rolling his eyes. His Master has the oddest of tendencies to get hung up on the most particular of topics. Anakin not having enough friends, per his Master’s opinion, is one such topic. Nevermind the fact that Anakin had never seen his Master ever share a true conversation with a single person. Other than himself. Of course. His Master does talk to him.

His Master will get fixated on him instead of thinking about himself and nag him to half death. ‘Anakin get more friends’ and ‘Anakin don’t spread the droid parts all across the quarters’ and ‘Anakin I’m a grown man I can groom myself.’ And while some of those things might be true, obviously, the last one is not. “You look like a mess.” Anakin says it to his face, because he and his Master are real friends.

“Thank you Padawan.” His Master answer, no longer sounding sad, instead his voice is dripping with sarcasm. Anakin doesn’t like it, but he supposes it’s better than sadness. “I do not recall asking for your no doubt impeccable sense of— Ahnakin—!” his ranting stops mid warming up when Anakin uses the opening to dart forward and lick him again, from the lowest exposed spot of his neck, up the smooth skin, his rough tongue making a satisfying ‘shh’ sound as it catches at the hair of the beard and smooths it up with his lick. The flavor is… is… 

Obi-Wan had used some sort of balm… some sort of synthetic musk that makes Anakin’s brain swim funny and eyes to close and mouth to water even more. He has to swallow down the saliva lest he drool like a hungry Tooka. It’s hard not to, when his Master is so, so, so karkin yummy. He slams his shields up with a clumsy thud in the force, but maybe just a moment too late to cover up that last thought.

“Anakin!” his Master sounds properly scandalized, voice raising to a tone that always makes Anakin’s ears ring uncomfortably and the following lecturing tone is no better. “Cease this nonsense immediately, you must not—" 

Anakin licks again. The side of his neck and up to the point where skin meets ear. “Master.” He says there, voice dropping into a purr that morphs into a warning growl he didn’t even think of making, there’s no aggression, only the frustrated warning to not stop him in the middle of something so damn important. Grooming, is important. More than Katas or studies or meditations. Maybe even more than sparring. And Anakin loves sparring. 

All Anakin wants is for his Master to sit quietly and let him take care of him. The way he ought to, the way he was meant to do. It’s his job, after all, is it not? He is Obi-Wan’s Padawan, it’s only natural he would tend to his Master, that he would care for him, that he would help him. That just makes sense. That rings true in the force and that’s all Anakin needs to know.

"I will.” He declares, it is no longer a request nor a plea, it is a declaration of intentions. A declaration of intent. He presses his nose at the soft skin under his Master’s ear and inhales, deeply, the scent making him Master-stupid so he says what’s on his mind with no filters, with no thought. “Unless you hate me.” His voice drops softer, he can’t breath, having inhaled too much of the strongest drug known to him. “Then I won’t” he trembles, he waits, if his Master rejects him, if he does hate him for his care, he will, he

“Anakin, this is hardly related, I do not think that—”

The force between them sparks and Obi-Wan’s mouth snaps closed with an audible click of the jaw. There’s a tension and a heating of an eruption that is halted with the calming breeze of spring air, Obi-Wan’s Force Signature covering his own, soothing, embracing, calming. “Very well, Padawan.” Obi-Wan speaks with a voice of a man who’s been worn in battle, sighing out in exhaustion.b “Since you cannot resist your nature, I’ll allow it.“ He pauses, sounding not a little doubtful as he adds the obligatory “Just this once, Anakin.” A final form of giving in, one Anakin is familiar with. 

There’s an ‘You should be old enough to know better’ goes unsaid and so Anakin ignores it. It wouldn’t have mattered even if Obi-Wan did say it. He had before, many times, and it never mattered. Anakin somehow doubts it’ll matter even when he grows taller than Obi-Wan. And he will, he just knows it. He will grow tall and strong, and he will always take care of his Master, and Obi-Wan would not be able to argue with that. Because it’ll all make sense. It always does. Everything about them does. 

If only his Master understood him better, he’d know that one doesn’t just grow out of wishing to groom those he cares and…loves. This is something that is forever and always. That is something that only grows and deepens, something to be shared and relished. Something he will always give to his Master freely, even if his Master maybe doesn’t…. Really share it in the same way as him. Which is fine. He had decided a long time ago. It is fine. 

It is enough that he gets to care for his Master. So he smiles instead and purrs out a sweet “Thank you, Master.” In that respectful manner he knows his Master enjoys hearing. He giggles when he feels his Master’s breath hitching, giggles more when nuzzling against the neck tickles his nose. “This is so horrible.” He complains, wanting his Master to know how strongly he objects to this change, and yet he cannot stop giggling. “Master!” he doesn’t even try to hide his joy from his voice, nevermind from the Force.

His Force Signature is a slow pulse of contentment, securely tucked beneath Obi-Wan’s still. When he licks small licks under Obi-Wan’s ear, he can feel his Master’s breath catching, can feel the way he stops breathing entirely and the soft gasp when Anakin licks at his ear directly, once, twice, a few more times just to test how committed his Master is to this session. Very, it seems. His Master doesn’t object even when Anakin grows bold and nibbles at his earlobe, tugging ever so gently. His Master is always so sensitive around this area, always so jumpy if Anakin stays too long at this spot. It always makes Anakin want to lick there until Obi-Wan loses his composure entirely.

He never does. 

At least not too much.

He does want to groom Obi-Wan after all, not only bully him into squirming because he is so damn ticklish there. That is not to say that he is above wanting to see his pristine Master squirming a little. So he licks there again, and when his tongue dips only a little into the ear, his Master finally jumps and moves away, breathing harshly and looking redder than his hair.

“Anakin I do believe that my hair is not located in that particular spot and—” his hands close on Anakin’s shoulders when he makes it to the ear again, wanting to nibble just one more time, just one last time… “Anakin.” His Master’s firm voice snaps him back into focus, tells him gently through the force to not overdo it. Fine, fine. He will not overdo it. This time.

"Just relax, Mastah.” Anakin pouts, the word slurring in the way his Master always corrects. Always, but not now. Anakin reaches for his Master’s wide shoulders and waits a moment until his Master’s grip loosens enough for him to actually move. It’s easy enough to shift to his Master’s lap. One knee over and sitting down in one smooth motion that has a practiced finesse to it. You either get to Obi-Wan’s lap swiftly, or you don’t at all. There is no room for hesitation for his Master will do enough hesitating for the both of them. So he sits down and nudges closer, right away. Inhaling, inhaling deeper.

Oh how he wants their scent to become one. They’re already nearly inseparable, living as closely as they do, using the same soaps, eating the same foods. Anakin wants more. Anakin wishes that they could smell and feel like one. United. Clearly bonded. Even more than they are through the force. He wants it so much that his fangs itch, itch, itch to bite and bite and bite. But no. No he is here to groom, to care. Not to bite, not to… mark. His cheeks are warm with it, knowing that he has, and is, constantly considering this. Wondering about this, curious about this. About marking his Master in a way that will be known, in a way that will be understood. He thinks about it, always. Luckily his Master has no clue. Luckily, Obi-Wan does not know. Or he wouldn’t let him sit here so carelessly, surely, he wouldn’t. 

“It’s part of it, duh.” Anakin says without truly knowing what he speaks of. The grooming, the licking, the biting, the sitting on the lap? He doesn’t know. He only knows of the happy, loud purr that fills his lungs when Obi-Wan doesn’t stop him from leaning back in, back to his neck, nuzzling, smelling, licking up that rough, funny tasting beard and to his hair, spiky and significantly softer than the beard. He giggles again, and purrs. It’s an odd combination of sounds he does try to stop but doesn’t manage. He is too preoccupied for dignity, or decorum, or class. He’s too karking pleased. 

When he licks at his Master’s neck again, the man tilts his head up and away, exposing his throat for him. Good. Good. Good, great, awesome.

His Master couldn’t have displayed his trust more plainly than this. No words could have conveyed the same level of commitment, of confidence and belief. Exposing one’s throat, Anakin thinks, is a universal sign. Even if his Master is less inclined to instincts as Anakin is, it still counts, it still matters a whole lot that he does it for him. His Master does it because he knows it matters to him and that— that matters more than all else.

His own purring is deafening, drumming in his eardrums and filling his chest with sound, he used to try to hide this in the past when he realized that most Padawans did not purr at every one of their Master’s compliments or gestures of kindness. He no longer bothers. He pulls and licks and purrs some more. He takes his time, licking small, measured licks, taking care to put that awful messy beard into something much neater, dignified.

“Maste-rrr.” He draws the ‘R’, nuzzling again under the ear and grinning when his Master shudders but doesn’t pull away, he always gives him a chance to be good. So he will be good. He does not nibble, instead he wraps his lips carefully around the bit of skin where no hair touches. Oh he wants to suck, to mark, to taste. Oh he does, so much. But he doesn’t. He will be good, because his Master believes him to be good, and proper, and nice. So he will be. 

His cheeks are fire hot when he thinks about what else he would have liked to be doing instead of the promised grooming. That is not something he should be thinking of, nor something his Master would ever permit, but…

Thinking is not illegal and he is not good at not thinking. 

So he imagines it. Imagines how his Master’s hands would feel on his hips, imagines his Master yanking him down to sit properly on his lap, Imagines his Master wanting him to lick elsewhere and—

“Ahnakin—” Obi-Wan protests, so strongly it rings in the force with his words. He feels and looks scandalized, even more so than before. He looks like he is considering all his choices and decisions. He looks like he’s about to call quits. He looks like he’d push Anakin away, he— places his hands on Anakin’s hips and pulls him down, to sit properly. 

The whine that escapes Anakin’s lips is nothing short of mortifying. It’s a needy, surprised thing, he feels like a proper youngling, confused and shy. He seeks the refuge of his Master’s neck and hides there, nuzzling while whining again, complaining, scandalized too by his Master’s audacity to follow his dreams up like this. He can’t mean it, he simply can’t! It is a mere coincidence, his Master would never follow his fantasies, he didn’t even hear it, his shields are up and proper, he’s sure of it, he’s sure of it, he’s… 

“Sorry…” Anakin murmurs out, because if he’s honest, he is not sure if his shields are worth anything with how excited he had gotten. Maybe his Master did hear, maybe his Master did feel something. Maybe he did push a little too hard. He doesn’t want to push too hard, he knows that sometimes his Master gets nervous because of his thoughts. Not angry, never angry.

He doesn’t want to make his Master nervous, he can feel the tell-tales of it in the force. Despite his Master’s secure hold on him, despite his Master’s unmoving frame. He can feel the building up hesitation. He does not want his Master to feel that way with him. 

“I’ll stop.” He promises his Master, assures him. He’ll try to, anyway. For his Master he’d try to go against his nature, even if his nature does tell him to think and do all sorts of things. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night when he can’t sleep and he thinks of his Master and every word they had ever passed, he does wonder about this. Is this truly his nature, his instincts that drive him to act as he does, or is it simply how he is with his Master? He suspects he knows the answer to that, but it’s easier for the both of them to call it instincts and be over with it, so he never disputes it. “Really.”

There’s a charged silence and then, blessedly, his Master says the two words Anakin loves more than anything else in the world, the two words for which he, not jokingly, thinks he might be willing to die for. 

“Good boy.”

The Coruscanti accent is thick and rolling, he sounds almost distracted, he sounds… 

Anakin shuts his eyes and bites his tongue, fangs digging into the soft flesh. He must not think of exactly how he imagines his Master sounding. He should not think about how his hands feel warm and human on his hips. He should not think about the lingering flavor on his tongue nor how his lungs are full of Obi-Wan, of his Master. He should not, is not allowed to. Promised not to. Instead he wraps his arms around his Master’s neck and hugs him, pulling the larger man to himself, having his head against his chest for a few long moments in which he is sure Obi-Wan hears just how fast his heart goes. He surely can feel it through the bond, it’s going crazy, ba-dum, ba-dum. 

He can feel a distant echo of his own heartbeat, almost imperceptible to his senses, and yet there. An answer. Thoomp-thoomp.

When he leans back, he moves his hands to cup his Master’s cheeks and makes him tilt his head up, to face him. “You look good now,” His fangs stretch at his lips as he grins wide enough to hurt. “Master!” he adds, cheekily.

His Master’s eyes are a bright blue, the deepest, calmest pond. He rolls them shortly, then looks directly into Anakin’s own eyes and smiles at him, sarcasm dripping with fondness as he says “Thank you. Ah-nah-kin.” With the most accented tone Anakin had ever heard. There’s so much black in his Master’s eyes, a beautiful, wondrous thing that makes him itch all over and want to see more of that soft darkness no one else gets to see. 

No one else, but him. 

[spaciebabie]

totally not based on something i did when reading @glitchysquidd's fic. nope. not at all. i can totally pronounce this word and didnt hafta look up what it meant at all-

i hadta look up howta write in cursive tho b/c bro-

[pennyserenade]

thinking about mulder and scully and how gentle he was with her when she was lying there in the hospital dying. he walked into the room with a wide grin and held her hand and kissed her cheek, and spoke to her in hushed, conspiratorial tones, and everything was life or death but it was so quiet, so unimportant, as he sat by her side and looked at her. mulder looked as happy as he’d ever been, sitting there with her, and it wasn’t because he was; he wasn’t. he knew that she was dying, that they were coming upon the moment when she was no longer going to be with him sooner rather than later, and he was crushed by the weight of it, by the impossibility of it. when he came to see her again and she was sleeping, looking pallid and defeated, he slumped against her bed and cried on his knees in the dark—quiet, body wracking sobs she never knew about, because he never wanted her to know how weak her being weak made him. with the weight of impending death, mulder gave scully the most of life, all that he wished she could’ve received but hadn’t: that coddling, that affection, the beautiful mundaneness of domestic bliss. he listened to her—really listened to her. and he really loved her, loved her like a husband, or a boyfriend, loved her the way a better man would’ve.

and then when scully got better, when the cloud of death evaporated and she appeared before him with color in her cheeks and flirtation on her tongue, he took it back. gone were the days of all that soft love and affection and back was the mulder and scully of old. he sidetracked their team bonding workshop, pointedly ignored the glaring fact that scully agreed he needed to work on his communication, and got them stranded in the depths of the floridian forest. even better, he let her coddle him, let her hold him close to her chest and made her sing him a song as they shivered through the night and watched out for monsters that could kill them, because he couldn’t handle it. the idea of being anything to scully other than what he had been before — a nuisance, a challenge, a partner — terrified him so badly he went into overdrive trying to reinforce those uncomplicated roles again. it wasn’t that he didn’t love her. he did — he loved her to the point of insanity, to the point of self destruction (something she so worried about). he just didn’t know how to love scully when it wasn’t dire. he loved her so much that he could not stand the idea of failing her with anything inadequate and half baked. he was glad to give it to her when it was dire, but when it came to life long devotion, he needed a few more years.

[stargatebarbie]

john and larrin to me are the epitome of that tumblr post from that guy who played a game of full contact rugby against a girls team and ended up getting tackled and absolutely laid out and says something to the effect of "from flat on my back I experienced a brief bout of heterosexuality"

[waffleweirdo]

SPOILERS FOR REVUE STARLIGHT REMAINS

Go watch Remains! Or read the plot summary! It’s so good!!

.

Mikoto throwing down her cape and voluntarily losing the revue is so interesting, not only because it subverts the entire established structure of the stage plays, but because in doing so she is refuting the very identity of revues.

Revues are meant to be where stage girls clash with their hearts bare and their passion and brilliance guiding them. It is through these revues that stage girls are able to understand one another and grow.

But Romana doesn’t fight with that honesty, that vulnerability. They maintain control the entire time. Whether they win or lose it is on their own terms, with nothing ever being risked by them. It’s antithetical to what a revue should be! And even still they win the battle that matters.

We have seen stage girls attempt to stand above the revues, or conceal their true feelings in the revues. But in every instance they are still showing a part of themselves through their performance, and so no matter how bitter a loss they are able to grow.

But Mikoto stands wholly apart. She won’t even begin to play until she has an entirely rigged deck and knows the exact outcome.

Comparing Remains to #2 transition we have a similar premise of Seiran trying to steal the members of Seisho for themselves. However through their revues they confront Seisho, messy pasts and all. In doing so they are all able to come to a greater understanding about how they should stand on stage, and even the members of Seisho who were ‘stolen’ by Seiran return.

That is NOT what happens in remains.

Something like that CANNOT happen in remains, because the very revues themselves lack meaning.

The revues are essentially the manifestation of stage girls' brilliance and passion, and are at the heart of what it means to be a stage girl.

Through their deliberate loss Romana create a stagnant world where they will never grow, but where they stand unquestioned as the strongest. Rejecting what should be at the core of a stage girls identity, but standing resolute despite it.

In that sense then, the way that Mikoto fights devoid of any passion, in only the most ruthless way reflects not only the harsh reality of what her stage full of treachery is like, a stage where she does not have the luxury of passion. But also of the world that she wants to drag Stella back into.

[saltpepperbeard]

I was tagged by the lovely @naranjapetrificada to share my Thoughts and Speculations for the timeline of OFMD S2, ie "eight predictions for eight episodes." Thank you, and sorry for the late response; I was facing The Horrors (derogatory). But now that the panic that is OFMD S2 being almost 3 weeks away is setting in, WHAT BETTER TIME TO RAMBLE ON AND ON ABOUT IT HSDJKS~

girlies (gn) there is honestly so much to account for. there are so many different elements that we've seen through promotional material and spoilers that i'm just like,,, how is this all going to Fit. BUT LET'S TRY OUR BEST SHALL WE LMAO-

((also hi hello this is ✨Jodi From the Future✨ coming in after typing up this entire thing, and realizing it was only supposed to be like,,, eight ideas for what's going to happen in the eight episodes. meanwhile my bitchass did a full blown prediction for what's going to go down timeline wise PFFF. BUT SURE YEAH THAT COUNTS AS ONLY EIGHT RIGHT? IT'S FINE,,,))

Episode 1. I think this is going to be more of an establishing episode. Establishing where the characters are, what they're up to, what challenges they're facing, etc etc. So, it'll likely focus on Stede's yearning, and Ed's heartbreak. I wouldn't be surprised if the "he's actually a good guy," the bottle kiss, and the wedding crash are all in this episode. And maybe it'll end off with the wedding topppersjfskfhsjklklbf,,,

Episode 2. An episode to build off of the motivations established in one, and also to move the characters a bit closer to each other. Maybe this is the episode where Stede tries to employ the help of the Red Flag Fleet, because they need a better mode of transportation to catch up with the Revenge. And maybe if that doesn't go too hot lol, maybe the storm will be towards the end of this episode to beach the Revenge somewhere. Though, I feel like that's quite a dramatic event, and would make more sense to occur a bit deeper in the season? But based on the rest of my thoughts/theories, it simply Does Not Fit SJKDS. So for now, I'm treating it as like, a divine intervention type beat where the crews are being beckoned closer together.

Episode 3. For SOME reason, be it just crossed fingies or the consideration of parallels or both, I have a feeling that Stede and Ed are going to reunite at the end of this episode. I think taking the episode release schedule into consideration also points to a reunion, because then we'd be left to sit with that for a week l m a o. I feel like we'll get to see all the intense emotions of them seeing each other for the first time in months, and their subsequent awe/reactions, before it abruptly cuts off as a cliffhanger. As for the actual BODY of the episode?? MAYBE the storm could also fit here in the middle somewhere, with the same sort of "the universe is wanting these people to be back together so lol STORM BE UPON YE."

Episode 4. The aftermath of the reunion. You get to see the proper reactions, ie Ed probably being dismissive and Stede trying to remain warm/enthusiastic. And then allllll the characterization that comes along with that, ie Stede's crew being like "I told you so" or Izzy being like "oh my FOOKIN god edward was throwing knives around and crying and making us crash weddings and now stede actually shows up and tHIS IS WHERE WE'RE AT???" So maybe, MAYBE, this is where Izzy steps in and tries to better things a bit by helping Stede, because he's Sick and Tired HSDJKLS. Like, this'll be the Fanfiction Episode™.

Episode 5. Wouldn't it be something if the party was in this episode to mirror the 5th episode in season 1 l m a o. And forgive me, because my theories towards Certain Events have seesawed ALL OVER THE PLACE HSDKJS. But hear me out hear me out. So episode 5 starts off as a sort of continuation from episode 4, and maybe Stede is trying to work himself up to better woo Ed. Like he's pulling out all the stops, which is why he's trying to train and better himself and do whatever he can.

But then MAYBE he has some sort of realization that like...Edward, his Ed, was so so excited to go to the Fancy Party Full of Hoity Toity People™. And was so so happy to dress up and be beautiful and feel himself. And so he decides to host a similar party on the Revenge for everyone, because not only would it be good for morale, but good for his beloved. So, they do, and everyone is Hype. Wee John gets to dress in drag, Roach gets to fire canons, etc etc. It's all so full of color and life and happiness again.

And, of course, maybe Ed and Stede have a Moment of some sort. I'm really really praying for a "Ed...May I have this dance?" type thing, followed by them having their first quiet and romantic moment of the season. And you can SEE some of Ed's walls coming down, even though he'd probably still be hesitant/tense. Maybe they even have an almost kiss type moment jUST LIKE IN THE PREVIOUS 5TH EPISODE. Or maybe the hhngfngmfngdmfd pearls,,,

...But then EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FIRE NATION ATTACKED SJDKSHKLDS. Because that ONE shot in the trailer where Wee John is shown in drag looks like a party, but also a party that was crashed by very unwelcome guests. So like, wouldn't it be something if the almost kiss moment was interrupted by some sort of enemy, and everything rapidly goes downhill.

Everyone gets bound, Stede gets tied to the mast, and...what if THIS is where Ed is thrown overboard. What if the enemy is someone who has it out for pirates, and very much has it out for Blackbeard in particular. So, they tie up Ed and throw him overboard in a murder/execution attempt, and Stede has to watch :))). Something something a parallel to Ed having to watch Stede get almost killed NUMEROUS times hskdjs. The turns have tabled.

And maybe there's a desperate moment between them right before Ed's thrown over. Maybe a desperate lock of their eyes, a desperate scream from Stede, a desperate declaration of feelings, even. And then the episode ends with Ed in the water.

Episode 6. The aftermath of episode 5 ofc. Stede and the crew have been captured, or maybe even just Stede has been captured. And Ed washes up on the beach alone.

I think this'll be where Ed sort of grounds himself and comes back into himself, because the gravity of the situation will hit him particularly hard. Like, he FELT things again. He felt BEAUTIFUL again. He felt DESIRED again. He felt like HIMSELF again. And didn't act upon it, and got separated from his sweetheart before he could. I wouldn't be surprised if he subsequently fights ghosts/demons of his own here, ie Hornigold or his father or individuals equivalent. So like, the barrel/clobbering shot is him fighting against his past type deal.

And then MEANWHILE, I think this is where Stede's going to get tortured. The darlings are both going to Go Through It in this episode.

AND, the more I look at that one shot of Ed in the woods with someone present with him, the more I'm like...IS that Wee John??? Or is that someone else? Because it would be something if the Revenge Crew was left alone, and only Stede was captured for his crimes against the Navy (murders and the escape from the academy). And then they somehow try and scramble/get help/link back up with the Red Fleet/find Ed themselves.

So, that one shot could have been them doing just that, and catching him up to speed after all that's happened. And maybe there's some sort of pivotal forgiveness moment/apology moment between Ed and the crew there too.

And then everyone's like...holy shit we need to go and KICK ASS ALL TOGETHER.

Episode 7. ✨The Battle Episode✨. Aka everyone kicking ass all together HSKDLS. Everyone uniting against a common enemy and battling it the hell out. There could be naval battles out at sea between the Red Flag Fleet, the Revenge, and the Navy, and then battles on foot on the black sand beach.

Something something wherever the enemy took Stede to torture him was also the same island Ed ended up on PFFFF. So, something something Stede somehow gets free, be it through his own devices or his crew, and they all start battling it out.

And ED is of course in the fray as well, especially pissed if he hears what they did to Stede.

Annnnd it leads to yet another reunion, ie them fighting to each other on the black sands. And I really, really, REALLY cannot express how badly I want them to fight to each other just to strongly kiss the moment they make it.

Annnnnndd then okay lol the CAVE. I'm thinking that one or both of them sustain injuries, or maybe just have to go and hide out somewhere since they're both VERY much wanted by the enemy. Something something them having to tend to each other and also having emotional conversations/talking it through, mixed in with more kisses.

Annnnnnnnnnd something something they all manage to fend off the enemy...*Buttons voice* FER NOW...

Episode 8. I think this episode would start off very unassuming. Like, the crews have won their battle, and go on to celebrate/recuperate. Maybe this is where they end up at Jackie's, and Ed gets to do those Soft Eyes, because he feels better and safe and IN LOVE. And so maybe things will be a bit easy-going and romantic to start off with.

Remember the friggin lighthouse. Something something "major romantic moment between two key characters." Something something WHAT IF ED AND STEDE HAVE A MAJOR ROMANTIC MOMENT IN THE LIGHTHOUSE HERE. would they be insane enough to do a proposal or something equivalent idk. i think i wouldn't make it to the other side if that was the case.

and if it's not a full proposal, even a deep declaration like stede going "i'll be by your side forever. if you'll have me" would just be hsfkshfskljkladhalkjhdfklgd.

But of course lol, OF COURSE, SILLY LITTLE PIRATE SHOW WILL PROBABLY END WITH SILLY LITTLE PIRATE PROBLEMS.

So, I would not be surprised if some SHIT goes down at the end of episode 8, maybe even leaving Ed and Stede separated again. Or at least putting them up against very very high stakes.

...

*GASPS FOR AIR* LMAO. I know I'm not even accounting for everything we've seen here. I know there are still elements like LUCIUS, the other couples, Anne and Mary, and some other little tidbits we've seen. But this is just what my brain Cooked. THIS IS WHERE WE ENDED UP SHDJKS.

And it'll be very very interesting to see what actually happens.

SEE Y'ALL IN LESS THAN A MONTH HSDJKS

[thedreadvampy]

my therapist spent today's session making Faces at me about getting an ADHD diagnosis

which

I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the possibility of seeking an ADHD diagnosis but she might not be a billion miles off

I was describing how I get "fizzy bored" where I have no energy or ability to move and nothing holds my attention but I feel like my bones are trying to vibrate out of me with the desire to be Doing Things and she was like 🤔 and I got onto the fact that I often need to be doing 3-4 things at once to ease into focusing on one and she was like 🤨 and then I mentioned how I find it really difficult to start doing things but once I'm in it I'm super focused and she was like 😌 have you considered the possibility of an ADHD diagnosis?

and so I explained that I don't really see the point because even though, unlike EDS and autism, a diagnosis could suggest an actual treatment, I don't really feel like anything I've described is disabling me cause I have the tools to manage it now most of the time and I feel Fizzy Bored WAY less often these days. and she was like 🤨

and I was like yeah to be fair actually I did use to think that about chronic pain, trauma and having shit eyesight and doing something about them did really change my experience. and she was like 😌 and I was like and actually now we mention it the fact that I sometimes for NO REASON AT ALL simply put off doing things even though they would be really easy to do and I want to do them for LITERAL YEARS is maybe. A thing that it might be nice to change if I could. And she was like 🤔 and I was like OH FUCK I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GENUINELY CONSIDER THIS POSSIBILITY AREN'T I?

anyway after talking a mile a minute and overrunning by 15 minutes I then got a quarter of a mile away on foot and realised I'd left my glasses on her table. she opened the door I went HEY SPEAKING OF ADHD

[narwhalandchill]

85 surgically implanted psychiatry degrees and still lost the fight against clinical depression and existential nihilism day 1. everyone point and laugh please

[crabanarchy]

The funny thing is, right, my maternal grandfather IS a textbook pathological narcissist. Alarmingly so. He used to insist we call him Omo (acronym for oh mighty one) and when that didnt take he insisted on "poppy salvadore")(as in, spanish for saviour). He frequently insists he has godlike powers. He gets into extended legal battles with his neighbours because he can't comprehend them not enjoying him patrolling his property boundary fully nude. He's so incapable of admitting fault he threw a chair at my head during an argument over whether a lamb was a baby sheep. (He was against.)

And yet learning the word "narcissist" has just made my mother apply it to everyone she doesn't like, even when ego isn't a factor! My father isn't a narcissist, he's addicted to methamphetamines, mother! You should know what a narcissist looks like! You were raised by one!

[tboyquicksilver]

Eyeless jack on da gender podcast🔥🔥🔥🔥 guy I sit next to thought he was dream dontv draw I'm on green paper guys

Also this is meant to symbolize Iago from Othello

Thoughts? We've just started it in class

[righteousruin]

made myself mad again thinking about writers who Miss The Point and how Bane was only on venom for like ~6 months in the comics but some writers decided it's his whole personality and he's just an Arkham Roid Rhino even though he passed the vibe check and didn't even go to Arkham even though his attorney begged him to plead insanity and go because he wouldn't face charges and he said absolutely not they're my crimes they're my charges they caught me slippin and that's on me and then not only stayed OFF of venom for the remainder of the pre-reboot comics but also actively destroyed networks that developed and distributed it, and then directly because of Batman's repeated radical compassion, dedicated his life to doing what he believed was right (even if it still involved murder) and actively protecting people he believed were innocent and helping people he thought needed help. Because he promised Batman he would do better. BeCAUSE OF BATMAN SHOWING HIM THAT WAS AN OPTION.

[aria0fgold]

I'm clapping, I'm clapping at myself. When that moment with Joker hanging onto Maruki appeared I was like: Oh stars... Please live, I don't wanna make that joke, please live, I'm not the one to make that joke, PLEASE LIVE--

[ghostcrows]

that damn web comic is rattling around in my brain ...