#DREAM SEQUENCE FUCK YEAH

[thedesertpenguin]

Flushed, sweaty, scared, yeah this is the kind of shit I’ve been looking for

[rainbowpufflez]

“If I could go back, one thing I would do / Try to unravel, cut down, and unscrew / The first double helix that links me to you”

Wow, get a load of these guys. What’s wrong with them?

Also song inspo if anyone would like it! It’s where the top quote is from!

[sassmill]

Still watching it but my review of The Color Purple (2023) is that I don’t love every directorial choice made with cutting and adding things HOWEVER: I LOVE that they tried new things. I think some of it was just plain fuckin weird but I loved that it was different! I think we’re entering a new era of movie musicals being more experimental. Not that anything was particularly groundbreaking but it IS breaking a pattern of bland movie musicals and it’s so refreshing to see something like this. They’re not pandering to be broadly appealing to like white middle America, they had a vision for how they wanted to tell this story and they stuck with it and executed it. And I have no doubt they had to sacrifice a LOT of that vision to even get it this far because of what the industry is like but. I have so much love and respect for this movie as a work of art.

[ferdieinceladoncity]

for the past two hours, two things (and two things only) have occupied my head. One is a longwinded rant about how awful the plot of postmodern prometheus is and how much I hated watching it and think it shouldn't have been written. the OTHER thing is replaying the scene at the very end and the look on scully's face when mulder holds his hand out to dance with her, the music getting soft and them swaying in each others arms.... how did the worst episode of the x-files also have a scene that makes me so incredibly, stupidly, giddily happy

[all-that-jazz-93]

Possibly unpopular opinion, but I like season two a lot more than season one

[phatburd]

🥺

[snailfen]

also the artificer experience thus far: BORN TO DIE WORLD IS A FUCK i am bombcat 82762828368292 DEAD SCAVS

[lateseptemberdawn]

All Of Us Strangers (⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐)

[forpiratereasons]

having reviewed (see: watched obsessively) the first three episodes, there doesn't seem to be any sign of ed's knee brace. there are two explanations for this. the first one is the very boring doylist option, which is that there was some real-life reason taika couldn't or wouldn't wear it (fit, ease of use, restricted movement, etc).

the second reason is much sadder but more interesting one, which is that ed has made a deliberate choice not to wear it. "but his knee will hurt!" yeah it's self-harm. it's self-sabotage. it's self-punishment. that he doesn't deserve to wear it, or that it doesn't matter, that a little extra pain doesn't matter. it also will slow him down, and make him slower and slower on raids, in front of the crew - it makes him an easier target, in other words.

interestingly, ed doesn't wear it in either dream sequence either. in stede's dream, this is maybe meant to signify that ed is healed, that he's in no pain. in ed's dream, this probably means the exact opposite - that he doesn't stop hurting himself even in dreams.

I'm interested to see if the knee brace shows up again as ed begins to heal. but whether the brace shows up again or not, i'm always gonna think of that knee as Fucked to Hell, a thing which can be so personal. plus, others have said this in more depth, but whether a person uses a mobility aid like the brace, or the frequency with which they use it, is not dispositive as to whether they're disabled.

[svndaysaweek]

Addiction and Poisoning — {Feat. Minnie (& Miyeon)}

1.2k words

A/N: It’s been months since the last time I posted something. This might not be the best I’ve written, but I did write something, nevertheless. I’ve been feeling the need to release something, and @i-am-lifeform24 thankfully gave me a precious opportunity to write something!!! So I’m posting it here too. Check out other fics from the ‘Curated Companions’ also!

*Drug use, choking, bondage, a bit of angst(…?)

******

Once in for all. You head to the bar you’re regular at. Everytime you tip a glass there, you experience a weird dream and when you wake up you’re in your bed, no memories of how you even made it there.

It’s happened several times already. To the point where you start to doubt if it really is a dream.

A charming bartender, nice drinks, and the addictive dream-like scenes you fragmentarily see like a deja-vu. 

There are different versions of it, but all follow the same sequence: sit down, empty a glass or two, a little chirpy chit chat with the bartender and the very next blink she’s riding you in a frantic manner.

What haunts you the most is that you lose old memories too. The damage is disturbing, since even at work you don’t remember major events that happened. You really should stop drinking, and you're aware of it more than anyone. 

You can’t explain, but you feel like you should just go there again. It’s an addiction, maybe. You know you should stop, but you don’t.

******

The door swings open with the little bells on it quirkily ringing. It’s a dim bar, with the calm noise of people talking and laughing with clinking sounds. Over the counter she’s wiping glasses, not in a tuxedo but in a white sleeveless shirt, long blonde hair over a shoulder and a pair of orbs in her eyes with the aura that a quartz gemstone would exude.

Hot, but not red-hot. Erotic, but not foul.

The very eyes in your dreams that you made roll back.

“Hi, long time! The usual?” Minnie’s grin blooms quickly as if she’s been waiting for you. Then she fixes it the next second, recognizing how unusual it is for a bartender to be as turgidly excited as her.

“I’d love to.” With a bite on her lip she turns around, takes a bottle of whiskey. Then enters a room in the back for a glass.

Your hand automatically takes your phone out of the pocket. You see a message from an unknown number saying ‘Hey we need to talk’, but before you can check Minnie returns with the glass and serves it to you.

“Are you shifting soon? Never seen you in that shirt before,” A sip, and another. The latter is because it tastes rather different. “Ah, this? How do I look?”

Gorgeous!

Gorge-

Gor-

…

******

“Yeah, that’s it…” Minnie’s hands are planted on your chest while her hips are senselessly grinding on your cock. The pace skyrockets and her nails dig into you deeper and deeper.

But dangerously you don’t feel the pain. You can only feel how tight she’s squeezing your cock, how sweaty her thighs are, how hot her breath is and how good she’s fucking you.

“Fuck, it gets better everytime… How can I stop fucking you like this…” Her hands are now in her hair, arms open and messing her own hair a bit. 

She squeezes her own breasts before slightly choking you with both hands. You try to reach for her hands, which are cuffed to the bed. Minnie seems to enjoy the surprised look on your face, as her face descends to be just above yours with a pearly giggle.

“Bet Miyeon is all too vanilla to do this stuff to you in bed,” She whispers it right at your left ear before nibbling on it, making you flinch a bit.

“Miyeon? Who is-“

“Never mind, boy. I have only you and you—oh, god I’m close—have only me.” Minnie’s teeth leave a deep mark on your under lip. Her glance is now beyond enrapturing. It’s a poignant hypnosis with a tinge of coercion. 

Only when she cums and squirts on your cock with a rather lunatic moan is the bewitching scrutiny alleviated. The sound of heavy breaths and the tickle of her fingers stroking on your chest is all that you can sense.

And you’re sprawled on the bed, exhausted, with your consciousness fading out. “I have only you, Minnie” is what you lethargically repeat until all becomes dark.

******

You have no idea how you ended up on your bed. Again. The last place you remember you were at last night was the bar. 

Was it the whiskey after all? 

Before you could even get out of your bed a headache swirls inside your head.

I had intense sex with Minnie again in the dream again.

She mentioned someone.

I received a text from someone who wanted to talk with me.

What could all this mean?

All of a sudden, a loud knock on the door shakes you awake from your thoughts. 

“Who’s there?” You shout, and you hear a frustrated, urgent female voice.

“Honey, it’s me! Please open the door and let’s talk!” On the other side of the door there’s a woman standing. Anxious, upset and unfamiliar.

“Do I know you?” It’s a genuine question, because you don’t recognize her at all. “Honey, this is not funny. At all. Why the hell have you been ignoring all my-” The girl tries to grab your hand which you swiftly evade.

“Sorry, but what are you talking about?” 

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple.

“Babe!” Down the hallway is Minnie. You are so confused by her calling you that, but it must’ve been the drink. Should’ve drunk less.

“Babe?! Excuse me, but do you know him? Honey, do you know her?” Miyeon looks shocked, terrified, even. “I do. Why are you asking me that? Who are you?”

Disbelief shades her face. “H-honey… What are you talking about? I’m your fiancé! I’m Miyeon, don't you remember?” At the same time there’s a victorious grin on Minnie’s face. 

“Seems the potion worked very well…” Minnie whispers in Miyeon’s ear, quiet enough for it not to make it to your ears.

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple. Then all senses fuzz out.

******

“Don’t go too fast, Miyeon! It’s dangerous!” You’re on a bicycle following her, on a riverside road with cherry blossoms fluttering along the breeze. She briefly looks back at you, and the way her hair streams in the wind takes your breath. “You’re saying that because you can’t pass me!” She smiles playfully and speeds up ahead.

“What are you listening to?” She takes one of your earphones after sitting down next to you on the bench. “Just some classics. Autumn is a season of classics for me.” You turn your head in her direction and are stunned at how her look matches the color of the trees and sky ever so perfectly. She can only chuckle at your face.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, yes!” You’re down on one knee, putting a ring on her finger. She’s shedding tears with the happiest smile. “I love you, Miyeon.” You rise and hug her. Your hands are still shaking. Her shoulders shake from her crying.

“I love you too. I have only you. And you have only me.”

******

A/N.2: Check replies!

[ruizpizzaria]

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

[lordprettyflackotara]

Chapter Seven || Hitchhiker || The Proxies

tw: everyone’s confused asf, spooky dream sequence, pistol whipping (you guys are not prepared for the next chapter i promise you. im looking at YOU masky girls)

Masky had to applaud you.

You really put on quite a show.

He wasn’t like Hoodie, he didn’t intend on watching Toby screw your brains out. Masky wanted to observe you. He wanted to understand why Tim chose you. Why all of his fantasies and plans were now centered around you. Tim’s infatuation was bad enough, but Toby’s, Brian’s, and Hoodie’s? Masky couldn’t handle it. He needed to understand not only their emotions, but his own.

His protectiveness of you came slowly and unexpectedly. He couldn’t understand what came over him in the kitchen that day, snapping at Brian the way he did. Not like it was necessarily his fault anyway. Hoodie had particular habits, ones that Masky found distasteful. Or better said, fucking disgusting. Masky watched over you in your apartment, Hoodie and Toby passed out in the living room. He watched you as you slept, your face delicately presenting peace and joy.

Your expression only made Masky angry. How could you be so blissfully oblivious? So unaware? He was a trained killer standing over you. They all were. Out of the three of them Masky would give you the quickest death. He could do it now, with no interruptions. Although you were intriguing, you were a flight risk. After Nova’s outburst they now knew where her office was. You were no longer useful. Disposable. For your own good he had to think this way. He slid his hand into his jacket, his fingers wrapping around his all too familiar revolver.

Masky rose the gun, holding its end to your head.

He froze as you shuffled in your sleep, rolling over. He was now facing the back of your head, annoyance washing over him. He needed to see your face. He needed to do this. He trudged to the other side of your bed, gripping the metal in his hand. With his hands at his sides, your eyes slowly blinked open. Masky quickly held the gun behind his back, alarmed at your sudden awakening.

“Tim?” You mumbled. Nervously Masky discreetly shoved his gun into the back of his jeans. You yawned, rubbing one of your eyes. “Cmere,” You murmured. You reached forward, grabbing one of Masky’s wrist and attempting to drag him towards you. He stumbled as he allowed you to pull him forward. “What are you doing?” Masky whispered, cautious of his partners waking up. After all, he had left your bedroom door open. You sleepily tried to tug his wrist again. “Come cuddle,” You requested, your eyes shut and consciousness barely awake. Masky’s eyes widened, fear washing over him.

“I uh, I don’t think so princess,” He huffed awkwardly. He yanked him hand away. A whine escaped your lips, similar to the sound of what Masky thought to be a kicked puppy. “Why notttt?” You groaned. You threw your comforter away, your body only now covered by a thin sheet. Masky could see the outline of your curves through the thin material. He swallowed, his adams apple bobbing visibly. “Well that’s because I um, had a different plan,” Masky said, scrambling to put together words. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, the killer beside you visibly nervous.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” You asked softly. He watched the way your lips curled up in a flirtatious smile. Masky wasn’t the type to feel flustered. He hadn’t felt that way in ages and he was in absolute denial you were making him feel that way now. “There’s a late night cupcake store down the street. I wanted to take you to it,” Masky rambled. He hoped he was right, only having seen the shop once in a newspaper ad. You sat up, your hair frizzy and tangled. “Alright just let me get dressed,” You hummed, stretching your arms. Masky quickly walked out of the room. Somehow the idea of seeing you naked made him flustered, despite him having seen you get literally fucked the day before.

Masky felt conflicted. He wanted to protect you but he also wanted to put a bullet through your skull. Why was that? Was the solution to every problem really killing someone? His mind was in a whirl wind. How long had he been thinking this way for? It wasn’t that Masky was afraid of killing people. That’s why he was created after all. His lack of fear and rough exterior was leader material, the kind The Operator needed to evoke out of Tim. Yet you, with your bubbly personality and caring nature. Masky had never wanted necessarily anything. He didn’t have wants. He was designated to lead and kill targets. But yet, he finally had something he wanted. He didn’t want to kill you.

You had thrown your hair in a lazy ponytail, dressed in sweatpants and a wife beater (Masky could’ve swore was Toby’s). “Ready?” He whispered, careful to not wake up Toby or Hoodie. Masky knew The Operator was getting close and closer to them. His and Hoodie’s ability to front for so long clear evidence. The only thing Masky could hope was that he was observing them and them alone, not you. He hadn’t shown any signs of interest in you. You hadn’t mentioned anything out of the ordinary. As far as Masky was concerned, you were in the clear. You nodded, the two of you quietly exiting your apartment.

Once you both started walking on the side of the street, you shoved your hands in your pockets. Masky noticed your lack of a bra, the cold winter air causing your nipples to be perky. “So, late night munchies?” You asked. Masky didn’t look your way, avoiding accidentally looking at your breast. “Huh?” Masky hummed. He noticed your breath was visible when you exhaled. What was it with you and your refusal to wear jackets? “I assumed you ate an edible or something. It’s two in the morning. No one craves cupcakes that badly,” You say. You tried to ignore the goosebumps dancing across your skin. Masky hummed, digging in his pocket for his box of cigarettes.

“I have insomnia. I never sleep, ever,” Masky said flatly. You raised your eyebrows, watching him fish out his box of cigarettes. “Ever? That’s not humanly possible,” You told him. Masky refrained from rolling his eyes. Yeah, not a lot of things in his life were supposed to be humanly possible. “Maybe one to three hours at a time every few days,” Masky estimated, bringing his cigarette to his lips. The two of you continued down the sidewalk, your bedroom shoes causing you to shuffle against the pavement. “That doesn’t sound healthy,” You commented. Masky glanced over at you as he lit his cigarette, your shaking from the cold visible.

“Neither is your absolute denial to wear a jacket,” Masky grumbled. He sighed, sliding off his mustard jacket and holding it out to you. “What-? I can’t-” You began. Masky shoved it at your chest, cutting you off. “Shut up and put on the damn thing,” He huffed. You did as instructed, the jacket oversized on you. You zipped up the zipper, looking over at your companion. “Thanks Tim,” You say softly. Masky inhaled his cigarette, a sense of relief washing over him as the tobacco swirled around his lungs. “Dont mention it princess,” He muttered. The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the streets empty and street lights dim.

A street light was in your way, causing you to step closer towards Masky to continue walking straight. Masky stumbled over his own feet, flustered by your unexpected closeness. “Sorry,” You murmured. You couldn’t understand why Tim was acting so weird. Masky sighed, realizing the inevitable. If they were to stay, you were going to have to know. About him and Hoodie at the very least. Toby’s schizophrenia and CIPA. His tourette’s was obvious. You didn’t seem to mind it. Maybe you’d be fine with everything else too. The more Masky thought about it, you’d need to know everything if they were to stick around.

Kate. The Operator. The Proxy Symbol and what it truly meant.

You seemed loyal. Maybe it would go over well. Maybe they’d be able to have something nice for once.

You both reached the bakery, Masky digging in his pocket and handing you a wad of bills. “Just get me a vanilla one,” He told you. Hesitantly you took the cash, eyeing it suspiciously. You wanted to ask why they didn’t have credit or debit cards. Or why they always seemed loaded with straight cash. Instead you nodded once you noticed Masky’s raised eyebrow. Masky continued to smoke his cigarette outside of the shop, the bell ringing as you opened the shops door. His gaze landed on Davidson Park, which sat across the street from the little strip of shopping centers.

He couldn’t help but remember Tim’s softness with you. Masky would’ve kissed you right then and there if it had been him. He exhaled the smoke, watching it drift away in the night air. His eyes narrowed as he was able to make out a figure in between the trees. He straightened his back as he stared at the ominous figure. He inhaled, taking a singular step forward on the sidewalk. The moment his foot hit the pavement, a wave of static crashed over him. He could hear it all around him, his cigarette falling out of his fingertips.

The bakery’s little bell chimed, breaking him out of his shocked trance. Masky quickly turned around, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “We need to go home, now,” He said roughly. You glanced over your shoulder, not understanding the rush. In your hands you held a box with your cupcakes, your fingers now wrapped around the pink container tightly. “I-I got you vanilla with buttercream icing, I hope that’s alright,” You stuttered, the brunettes suddenness catching you off guard. His arm was around your shoulders in an assertive manner, forcing you to continue walking.

Paranoid, Masky continued to look over his shoulder. The static wasn’t fading. He looked down at you, your doe eyes widened with fear. It made Masky stop dead in his tracks. “You can hear that, can’t you?” He asked. You nodded affirmatively. You wanted to tell him everything, his arm now forcing you to continue walking once more. It didn’t matter who, what, where, why, or how. The Operator was interested in you. He had shown his interest loud and clear. He didn’t need to communicate, Masky knew the pattern. This is how it started. He wasn’t having it.

The Operator couldn’t have you. He wouldn’t allow it. Swiftly Masky steered you both off of the path from your apartment, down a dark alley. “Tim what’s going on? I’m scared,” You say, your voice cracking. Masky was beginning to panic. He began to walk behind you, the Operators static growing closer and closer. He reached around and grabbed his gun, yanking the metal piece out of his pants.

“I’m so sorry.”

And with that, everything around you screeched to a sudden halt. Your vision went black, your senses slipping away with it.

\/

Your bare feet stood in freshly cut grass, the bright green field around you stretching on for miles. Your hair flew around with the soft warm breezes as they danced past you. You looked around, your skin soaking in the sunshine as it beamed down on you. The warmth was comforting, your body seemingly in a state of bliss. The sound of footsteps made you turn around, the four people you cared about most before you. Your white sundress swayed in the wind as your eyes soaked in the scene.

On the left stood Tim, Brian, and Toby. They stood side by side, unmoving. They were dressed as they usually were, Toby giving you a small wave. To your right stood Nova, the circles from around her eyes vanished. She looked just as happy as she was before the Winston case. “Nova?” You say. You went to take a step towards her, an invisible force preventing you from taking a step towards her. You raised your hand, pressing it against the see through force field. “What is this?” You whispered. You marched over to the boys, walking straight into another invisible force field.

You yelped as you rubbed your nose, a few drops of blood noticeable on your fingertips. “Thats not from the force field,” Brian stated plainly. Your eyebrows furrowed as an impossibly tall figure stepped into view. It walked between Nova and the boys, its hands laced behind its back. You estimated its height to be around eight feet tall, at least. A suit decorated its eerily human like body, its skin as white as snow. You began to walk backwards, tripping over your own feet as your gaze landed on its face. The shape of a human head shaped its skull, no facial features visible.

Swallowing, you tried to make sense of the creature. There was no nose, eyes, ears, mouth, hair. Any human like details beyond its body shape seized to exist. “W-who are you?” You stuttered. The creature seemed to walk with ease, its black business shoes crunching the grass below it. You recognized the shoes as the ones that stood outside of your bathroom stall. “I go by many names. The Operator. Slenderman. I am a tale as old as time. You may call me whichever you please.” The creature informed you. Its voice was deep and assertive, the sound echoing through out your mind.

You couldn’t make sense of what was happening, falling backwards onto the grass. You noticed the color fading, a dull gray beginning to take its place. “What do you want?” You asked. You tried to crawl backwards, the Operator placing its shoe in between your exposed legs. You watched frozen in terror as the Operator reached down, his freakishly long fingers wrapping around the collar of your sundress.

“You.”

/\

You shot up, the beeping of the hospital monitor flooding your ears. “Woah woah woah slow down. Hey it’s okay,” Novas soft voice cooed. You looked over, your brain processing your surroundings. Wires and needles protruded your skin, oxygen tubes hooked into your nose. “What the fuck,” You muttered. A hospital gown covered your otherwise naked body, your head throbbing. The shooting pain made you cringe, your hand flying to the back of your head. “You need to lay back down, here,” Nova instructed. She grabbed a pillow from the end of the bed, propping it underneath your head.

“What am I doing here?” You asked. Your throat was unusually dry, your lips cracked. Nova brushed a stray hair behind your ear, giving you a sorrowful look. “I couldn’t tell you. You’ve sustained a head injury of some sort. I got a call that you were lying in front of the doors. Doctors want to think you fell then crawled here,” She explained. You swallowed, trying to moisturize your throat to talk. “What do you think?” You asked cautiously. For the first time it looked like Nova had slept, a large oversized cream sweater and black jeans protecting her from the powerful ac of the hospital room.

“My opinion? You look like you got pistol whipped in the back of the head,” Nova told you honestly. Her chocolate eyes were full of worry. The memories began to slowly come back to you. Tim. The cupcakes. The static. Tim’s panic. The alley. “Do you have any recollection of anything at all? You know we can investigate this for you,” Nova reassured you. She propped herself up on the side of the hospital bed, giving your hand a squeeze. You returned it, licking your cracked lips. “You have enough going on with the Winston case. Besides, I probably did trip and fall,” You say slowly. In the background you could see a clock on the wall, the time three in the morning.

“Wait, how long have I been here?” You questioned. Nova gave you a sad smile. “About five days. They did a bunch of scans and stuff. They said everything looks normal. Recovering is just going to be a bitch,” She said, giving you a half smile. Your face twisted in horror at her answer. Your head was throbbing, the pain making it hard to think. “Five days? I’ve gotta go,” You say. You attempted to get up, Novas firm hands landing on your shoulders. “You need to rest is what you need to do,” She insisted, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your eyes flickered around the room, noting her bag was the only sign someone else had been there.

“Have the boys been here? Toby? Brian? Tim?” You asked. Nova cleared her throat, avoiding your gaze. She readjusted your blanket, ensuring it covered you. “I haven’t seen them,” She answered quietly. Your brain felt like it was spinning. “Well maybe they came by when you weren’t here,” You rattled off. Nova shook her head. “Sweetheart I hate to break it to you but i’ve been here from the moment the hospital called me. I haven’t seen any sign of them,” She told you. You needed to get out of there. You needed to get back to your apartment. To curse Tim out. To punch him.

But you knew under Nova’s watchful eye you’d never be able to. You nodded. “Okay. That hurts, but okay,” You say as calmly as you can muster. Nova slid off of the bed, giving your hand one last squeeze. “Your stay here has helped me get some sleep you know. Good call,” She joked. You gave her a stale chuckle. The quicker she went to sleep the quicker you could make your great escape. “I’m sorry about your hitchhikers. But at least you’ll always have me,” She said softly. You froze as she placed a kiss on your forehead, the same spot Tim did. What was that? Nova had never been so affectionate before.

You tried to act nonchalant as she pulled away, returning to a guest chair she was curled in before. “I’m right here if you need me, just holler,” Nova told you. You watched as she curled up into a ball, tugging her blanket towards her. “Goodnight Nov. Thanks for being here,” You say. Once Nova shut her eyes you kept an eye on the clock. It was about 3:20, your mind now wide awake. You were overloaded with thoughts. Many about Tim, but also your nightmare. Was the Operator behind all of this? The symbol? You glanced over at Nova, who for once looked peaceful as she drifted off to sleep.

Something was wrong. Besides the fact you were pretty sure Tim knocked you out, you couldn’t get your nightmare out of your head. You understood why Nova was there. She was investigating the symbol. But what about Toby, Brian, and Tim? Why were they there? A chill ran up your spine as you quietly yanked the needles out of your arm. You had a creeping suspicion that Nova was right about your hitchhikers all along. Would they really do that? Use you for information? Kill Winston? You quietly slipped out of bed, grabbing your previously discarded clothes.

They wouldn’t do that to you, right? Right? There was only one way to find out.

—> next chapter

[revengeismygender]

They really said “Oh, y’all agree cringe is dead? Oh, y’all like muppet logic?” And fucking ran with it.

Romance novel dream sequence that ends with a fart joke? That’s our opener. We need a distraction? How about The Swede gives Spanish Jackie a very sexual back massage. 15 references to soup? Not enough. Better make it 30. How should Ed look when he attempts to murder the entire crew? Cute lil up-do hairstyle. Pirate queen born 50 years after Blackbeard’s death? Yeah she’s here, don’t question it. Need to amputate a leg? Just chop it off with an ax. No need to bandage it. Gangrene isn’t real. Then make out over the bloody leg stump, obviously. What is this intense purgatory hallucination missing? A 3-minute bit where Ed role plays being an innkeeper with a figment of his imagination. Smashed a guy’s head in with a cannonball? Only leaves minor scratches and he can be resurrected through the power of love and Rhys Darby wearing a practical effects goldfish tail.

Please never let it stop.

[feroluce]

SO LIKE. As much as I roll with the Emanator of Elation Sampo theory, I do have. Some doubts about this specific instance of it. Not that I think Boothill is lying, or that I think Sampo isn't an Emanator, but I wonder if the person Boothill actually met was Sampo.

Just! Sampo is so careful. The only reason we even knew he wasn't of Belobog was due to a dialogue-dependent fourth wall-breaking dream sequence that no other character could have seen. It took a missable dream bubble in an out-of-the-way spot that was seemingly left only for the trailblazer at the very end of a side mission just to confirm him as a Masked Fool. Like it's not just the fact that Boothill mentions this person being an Emanator. It's that he knows they're also a Masked Fool, which is also something Sampo is incredibly dodgy about. Sparkle even seems to call him out on this in her party join line fjkdjaskldj

((But also, Boothill, baby. WHY were you trying to get them drunk????))

And regardless of if you believe him when he calls himself an old timer, he obviously has a lot of experience in doing what he does. He knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he is viciously capable and competent, unfortunately for his victims smhznskdn

So it just. Feels very unlike him, for him to let his guard down enough to not only let himself get drunk in front of Boothill-

a total stranger btw whom Sampo has absolutely no reason to trust, and a dangerous Galaxy Ranger to boot who has plenty of blood on his hands and a significant bounty on his head

-but to get SO drunk that he lets loose the secret that he's an Emanator.

When Boothill brings this up, he mentions that if Emanators were obvious and known at a glance, it would lead to atrocities. And for as much as Sampo is disliked by his victims (there's an entire anti-Sampo organization in Belobog JFDKLASJFDL), it's all for fraud. He's wanted by the IPC as an intergalactic thief. He scams people out of their money, and only rich people at that. That's mostly all that he's known for. Nothing he does is violent, even though Sampo surely has the capacity to inflict a lot of harm.

And I don't mean that he's exactly a pacifist or anything; Firefly comments that Sampo seems like a highly skilled covert fighter. His voicelines make it sound like he enjoys combat- hell, his ult line makes him sound like a hitman. I like to hc him as being a pretty high ranker in the fighting rings at the World's End Tavern, like we see in the Simulated Universe occurrences.

But I don't think he would enjoy being the cause of uncontrollable violence and bloodshed.

Like yeah he's a dick who scams people on the regs for funsies, but he has lines he refuses to cross, which we see a lot of in how he interacts with Sparkle. More than just not enjoying it, I think he would hate it if he were found out and it caused an incident, especially since he seems so endeared to Belobog and her people now and it looks like he plans to return there. He wouldn't want to bring any of that back to them.

So I just can't imagine him carelessly fucking up bad enough to out himself to a random stranger that could easily put a bullet right through his head.

Sparkle maybe could, though.

Because as we find out later the dreamscape had expanded FAR beyond what it seemed, far enough that the trailblazer had been dreaming since the warp jump in. Most people enter it unknowingly, and don't realize they're already dreaming when they think they're still awake. Boothill and Dan Heng should have already been dreaming during their exchange on the Express that started all this.

And as long as someone knows they're dreaming, completely changing their appearance is easy, even for the common layman. We see this with a couple of NPCs and also Sparkle herself, with her (in)famous impression of Sampo.

Thank youuuuu Sparkle

And yeah, the trailblazer and almost all of the other characters wouldn't know about the expansion until near the very end. None of them realized they were dreaming even outside of their dream pools, and surely none of them would think to be suspicious of another person's appearance outside of the dreamscape like that.

But Sparkle has a script from Silver Wolf.

She knew all the secrets of the dreamscape, and she knew them from the very beginning. There would have been nothing stopping her from appearing as Sampo in front of Boothill and spilling all his secrets.

And she apparently has a long-standing history with Sampo, including trying to get him in on her own much more fiery and aggressive version of Elation.

Maybe all Sampo needs is to be outed as an Emanator, and then when all the violence and bloodshed catches up to him, then he'll finally understand! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.2

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 3.5k

The heat choked her body as she threw the covers off, sweat causing her clothes to cling to her body in a way she hated. Her nightmares haunted her dreams at night, reminders of her wrongdoings, failures, moments in life where she had no one. She was reminded of every feeling she felt up until now, and it confused and hurt her at the same time. She stood up, unable to lay in bed any longer and threw on some black cargo pants with a black long sleeve top.

She walked out of her room, making her way to the range where dummies stood to practice on. Personally she thought they were partially useless, they were good to practice hitting targets standing still, but in the field it was quite the opposite. They were running, jumping, moving in every possible direction. They were hitting back, so she always preferred to train with a partner, however, she didn't have one at the given moment, so she had to make do.

She spent hours practicing, taking shots with the blanks provided, ensuring each one landed in the center of their fake forehead, and if they didn't she'd do everything again, and again until her training sequence had been completed perfectly. She had a watcher, and she knew that, ignoring their presence until she finished. Ghost watched as her final shot rang out, hitting the dummy in the same spot she had hit so many times before, announcing the finality of her session.

"You're up early Sunshine." His gruff voice bounced off the stone structure behind the dummies, coming back to her ears in a way she quite liked. The sensation of hearing his voice twice over even though he spoke once was soothing to her in a way, even though he sounded like he swallowed nails and it fucked up his vocal chords for life.

"How old are you?" She questioned suddenly, laying her gun down on the table and unloading the blanks, tossing them off to the side. His eyebrows jumped in surprise at the question, walking over to her and peeking over her shoulder as she cleaned the weapon off, black spots of gunpowder appearing on the cloth she used.

"I assume you already know since you dug through my file." His voice held a bit of contempt and hostility, but her reaction remained even and calm, chuckling, though to her it felt hollow as it always did. The sound followed that feeling, and Ghost noticed it.

"I forget unimportant things." He rolled his eyes and sighed, his hands gripping the top of his vest as he watched her work.

"I'm 28 as of last month." She hummed, glancing over to him. The conversation wasn't inherently interesting, she found no pleasure in the topic, but did find a hint of entertainment in the conversation being with him specifically. She didn't understand why, but she'd indulge for a while, at least while she was still on the team.

"What's on the agenda today?" She moved along, leaning on the table as his wide, tall frame towered over hers. She couldn't help looking over him again, even in his gear he was so... hot. Her mind wandered, the word putting her mind on a track as she yet again shamelessly checked him out.

"Hey." He snapped his finger in front of her eyes, snapping her out of it. "Have some damned respect yeah? I'm you're superior officer." He would be lying to say he hated it, he loved it actually, that the girl he was once so intimidated by still had some human qualities, like attraction and want. But she could tell he misconstrued her intentions, she didn't understand the want aspect of it, she just saw something she liked and looked at it, not because she wanted to have it, but because it was nice to admire.

"I'm not looking to sleep with you. You have a nice frame. That's all." His cheeks involuntarily burned, starting from his covered next and moving up. How could she say that so calmly? He watched her shrug and move on, looking back at her weapons as he sighed.

"Today's an off day. We don't get many so get your arse out the range." He muttered, turning around and walking out with heavy steps and a sway to his walk that she found addicting to watch.

She...

not liked... enjoyed? No, was fond of, close enough.

She was fond of the way he moved, she found it satisfying, how even he was, symmetrical in shape and incredibly fit. She thought long and hard at night about random things, and the male physique was one of the topics that crossed her mind. How much they had going on, as least the ones she'd met in her times of service, all muscular and built to take any blow sent their way. She wished there were more women working in her career, get the best of both worlds, but she found herself understanding why there wasn't.

"Sunshine! Get your arse out of there! That's an order!" Price yelled from the entrance, noticing she hadn't moved from her spot since Simon left. She followed his instructions, deciding to go back to her room and relax in there until she was needed. That's how these types of things normally went.

Her skill and forte for doing what she's technically not supposed to was something that kept headquarters bouncing her around. She'd be on team 141 for maybe a year before being moved, so she chose to not make connections with anyone. Most were happy to let her go for two reasons. One, how persistent she was about not sleeping with them, and two, the nasty scars left behind for even asking the question.

Most of the times she was the one requesting a team change, and they obliged because they wanted to keep her on their good sides for what it was worth. She knew she was being used, but isn't this what she signed up for? What they all signed up for?

She groaned at the knock on her door, loudly expressing her distaste for whoever was behind her, not caring who it was.

"It's time to eat breakfast. You have 2 minutes to sit your arse with us or I'll drag you out myself." Ghost called through the wood, his voice getting raspier as his volume raised. She snickered at the empty threat, getting up and opening the door to see him standing there, irritated that he had to come get her as if she were incapable of coming herself.

"You seem to really like my ass with how much you order it around." His mouth went dry as she pushed past him with a thud, walking over to the table, not looking back at him.

"Fucking hell." He murmured, annoyed by the fact that he was heating up again, mentally cursing himself for being flustered by something so immature. But he couldn't help glancing at it as she walked, how well shaped it was, the weight it had, how it-

Bloody fuckin' perv.

His eyes shut for a moment in shame at the fact he just checked her ass out before making his way back to the table and sitting down next to Soap who left him a seat. The table was tense and quiet, the team glancing around at each other as she ate as if they weren't there.

"So Sunshine. You heading to the pub with us later?" Mctavish questioned, shoving some of his MRE into his mouth.

"No." Everyone stopped eating at her blatant denial. She didn't care for team bonding, she hated it. She found it pointless when they had a higher chance of dying than being a friend to her.

"You should go. It'll be good to get out." Price pushed, looking at her expectingly.

"What do I get out of it?" If she was going to go, it better be for a damn good reason. They looked at each other, sighing as Price instigated the negotiation process. They discussed terms, agreements, benefits, etc, all for one night with her at the pub. This is what she liked about men, how easy they were to persuade, especially as a woman that peaked their interest. It was almost disheartening. She noticed how Simon didn't participate and ate his food in silence.

He didn't want to feed her ego, he didn't care whether she went or not, and he wouldn't waste his time with unnecessary terms for a single night. If she didn't want to go, she shouldn't have to. That's what he thought, and she knew that, she liked that. She liked that he wasn't easy, that he was a challenge to her, to crack, to break. She wanted him to hate her, to loathe her, to feel small compared to her, she wanted the satisfaction of being powerful no matter who she was with.

The terms were settled, they'd buy whatever she ordered and she was required to stay for two hours until she could leave and one of them had to buy her food by then for dinner. The day went by quickly, her having avoided interaction with them all together until she was forced to see them again. For the pub she wore a black crop top, a white button up over top, and some black trousers with some white shoes.

She slipped on a mask that covered half her face, straightened her curly hair, not wanting anyone but herself to see that part of her. Her natural hair was the only genuine part of her that she liked, it was true to who she was, where she came from, and she didn't intend to let people she didn't know or trust see it. She left it up in a ponytail and walked out to see Soap exiting his room.

"Ready lass?" He questioned with a genuine smile, one she couldn't return because she didn't want to go. So she replied with another curt nod, leaving him in silence and following him to the car.

"Sunshine. With me." Ghost commanded, getting into the driver's seat of the car he was going to drive. She found the way her callsign sounded from him to be odd because of the duality of it. A beefy, gruff, cold man calling her sunshine. She sat in the passenger's seat, the car lurching from the force of his foot hitting the gas, moving forward to follow Soap in front of him.

She turned on the radio, only for Simon to turn it off.

"I need to concentrate." He voiced, and when she tried again, he did the same thing, shutting it off.

"I don't care. If you can't think with noise than maybe you should quit before i end up having to drag your rotting corpse out of the field." She snapped, clearly pissed off about not being able to turn on the radio. He looked at her with a blank expression, realizing she was genuinely upset, with all the things she could be putting her emotion towards, she put it towards the fact she couldn't listen to music.

"Careful. Or I'll write you up for insubordination and have you dishonorable discharged." He threatened making her snort and look out the window.

"Do me the favor then will you." His eyes narrowed at her, his grip on the stick shift tightening in irritation. Part of him loathed her, how impulsive and arrogant she was, but then he was reminded that she didn't know any better, which made him angry too. Everything about her and associated with her made him angry, so he huffed and turned on the damn radio.

"This once. That's it." She snickered to herself, the anger slowly dissipating as they drove on in silence, filled by throwbacks from the early 2000s that she liked. They reached the pub and he parked next to Soap, walking inside. The smell of alcohol and sweat intensified the closer they got to the bar, maneuvering through people who were drunk and dancing to the music.

"What is it you're having then?" McTavish asked her.

"I don't drink. I'll take a coke, can preferred, thanks. His tab." He rolled his eyes, nodding to the bartender who later slid her a can of the drink of her choice, everyone watching her crack it open and take a sip, turning away to pull her mask down.

"So you really don't drink?" Gaz questioned her.

"Pretty sure I said that already. Fuck it's hot." She shrugged off her button up, leaving it draped over her chair. Eyes widened at her. She was ripped, her arms were toned, faded scars here and there with some tattoos not only there, but on her waist and sternum, though they weren't as visible due to her shirt.

That's when Ghost noticed it from his side.

"The fuck is that?" He asked, peering to get a better look. Y/N turned her head to him, eyes following his to her brand.

"Got it when I was kidnapped." She explained simply, shrugging off his shocked look until he grabbed her arm for a closer look. He recognized that brand anywhere, soldiers' bodies that came back from Verdansk after failing their initiation program to work under General Voroskoy, an ex-KGB wet agent who commanded the Russian forces in the region.

This changed, everything. This means she survived, she managed to endure the agony they put soldiers into and come out alive. Ghost had seen the autopsy reports, burns, cuts, electric jolts, mutilated bodies from head to toe, some had to be identified using dental records, if they had any teeth left.

"Had they came a week later they would've put me through my second round of ECT. Didn't get drugged up for it either. Then you'd be fighting me." She informed them, Gaz, Price, and Soap having came to look as well.

"What'd they do to you?" She didn't respond, her head turned to face the other direction, her eyes glazed over and distant. She couldn't think, she couldn't answer. Ghost knew that look, and he never liked it. He pushed past his team and stood in front of her, her eyes unwavering on the center of his stomach as he towered over her once more.

"Snap out of it sunshine, that's an order." She couldn't. She wanted to, she wanted to move her eyes, her body, her mind to any other subject, but she couldn't. It was as if she was frozen in time, in this moment, she wasn't even blinking, feeling her eyes beginning to burn.

Was she here? Was she real? It didn't feel like it.

It felt like the world stopped moving, and everything went quiet. Her heart hurt for reasons she didn't understand before various images of what happened rushed through her, and she felt trapped, trapped in her mind for good. Nobody could pull her out, she couldn't see anyone. Not in front of her, not in her peripheral. She was alone. Alone in a concrete box with a singular flickering lamp as her blood coated the floor, she had never left, she had made it all up, all the missions she went on, all the people she met, it was all in her head.

How foolish could she have been. Rescued? On foreign soil? It was a fairytale, and now she was back. She was going to betray her country by force, because she didn't know who she was, that part of her was ripped away. She couldn't stop it, she wasn't in control, she was weak for letting this happen to her, to truly believe for a moment that she was out at a pub with people that wanted to help her.

Nobody, was going to help her. This is it, this is where her life ends.

Ghost's fingers came up to her face, pressing her lids shut.

The blindfold was on.

"1." ...what?

"2." The room began to fade. Were they putting her under again?

"3." Noises flooded her ears, her straining to understand what was being said.

"4." That was... Ghost's voice, the gruffness of it was all too familiar. Years of inhaling dirt and gunpowder left his voice rugged and raspy, but it was recognizable.

"5." It was as if a wire was cut, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the stimulation of the pub around her. The cold can in her hands, the sounds of music and voices pounding in her ears.

This was a technique he used on soldiers who dissociated and derealized, whose minds traveled back to the root of their ptsd. His hand dropped slowly, her eyes snapping open in alert. Her body jerked forward and he caught her shoulders. He gave them a reassuring squeeze as he watched her panic.

"Calm down love. You were gone for a moment, give yourself some time to adjust." The rest of the team watched in concern and curiosity as she scanned the area, her breath quick and uneven. Her heart pounded in her chest, unable to comprehend what was occurring as she place her can down on the counter and quickly walked outside, not caring who she shoved past to get there.

Ghost was quick to follow her, calling out her callsign over and over when she didn't respond. She felt his big hand grip her wrist, pulling her into a nearby alley. Anger and fear overtaking her as she quickly swiveled on her left foot. Before he could understand what was happening she jumped up, her legs wrapped around his neck before pulling him down to the floor with all her weight.

He grunted in surprise as his back hit the concrete. She was quick to get up, the need to survive pumping through her veins until arms wrapped around her waist, one hand covering her mouth.

"Get a hold of yourself soldier-" Her head came thrusting back, knocking whoever held her in the nose causing them the groan and drop her. Two strong arms pinned her to the wall, another two keeping her legs still as she struggled.

"Hey! Y/N!" Her eyes blew open, meeting the piercing blue of Price's as they bored into hers. The name call caused her to mentally stutter, since nobody called her that, not in the last 6 years.

"You need to calm down. You're a member of Task Force 141, you escaped Russian capture 6 years ago and have been working for the U.N. since." Her mind stopped racing, looking around at the damage she did as Ghost helped Soap with his nose, blood dripping from his hand to the floor as he cradled it. Gaz held her legs down, but made sure that she couldn't hit him in the face with her knee.

"Don't look at them. Look at me." Ghost looked at her, and she didn't like the look in his eyes. She expected some sort of hatred, mistrust, a need to kill her, but all she saw was pity. The word was like a knife to her gut. He felt bad for her, and she hated that. She wasn't weak, she didn't need his sympathy.

"Look at me Sunshine. That's an order." It dawned on her, her eyes snapping to his in frantic panic.

"They know my name." Why would he do that to her? Why would he reveal something she kept so close to her chest?

"I'm Johnny. Johnny McTavish." Soap called out, waving a hand to her as he held a tissue to his nose.

"I'm Kyle Garrick." The man kneeling in front of her said with a small smile. They watched her eyes flicker with confusion, not understanding why. Why were they dumb enough to give that away, to not realize the danger they were putting themselves into. Yes she already knew their names and almost everything about them, but to give that away willing was a principle she couldn't comprehend.

"Simon. Simon Riley." Ghost finished.

"Why. Do you not realize how important that is? Why're you telling me this?" Her gaze was intense, flickering between each of them analytically until she found an answer to her question.

"Because we're a team. We trust each other with our lives." Price answered for them. She searched his gaze, finding no hint of uncertainty or falsehood. They let her go and stood in front of her, not tense, not ready to grab her if she pounced. She took a step forward, and they didn't step back, remaining still and assured.

"Y/N." Her name sounded foreign coming from him, her look directing towards him. Simon's gaze wasn't soft, it wasn't gentle, but it wasn't demeaning either, it wasn't angry or mistrusting. She felt strange, but in a good way, the same way she felt when he called her love. How her chest tightened and her eyes watered, she hated it, but she loved it at the same time.

"Only way we can help you is if you tell us what happened. We've all experienced something, even if it doesn't quite amount up to you, it's enough. So quit being a pain in our arses and bloody say something." He quipped, his closer making the team chuckle, but she didn't understand why it was funny.

"I didn't think I was being a pain." They looked at her oddly, until it dawned on them as she stared back, utterly confused as to why SHE was the pain and not someone else who was less capable than her.

"We've got some fuckin' work to do."

This is part 2! I don't know how many parts this is gonna be, probably not many, but there it is! Thank you so much for reading! Lmk if you have any requests and I promise a relationship between ghost and the reader will occur but I don't wanna rush it so yeah!!

[natjennie]

and another thing about ed's suicidality, especially in e3, is that it's not new!!! stede didn't ruin him and izzy didn't drive him to it. it's never any one person's fault. he's been dissatisfied with pirating the whole time, one of his very early lines is "haven't died yet, have I? we should try that" like. ed's mental health has been bad the whole time, and a new shiny happy fixation, stede, wasn't going to magically make him not depressed. it just hit particularly hard once stede was gone.

but also like.. the fact that it was hornigold. the fact that the dream-sequence manifestation of ed's depression was his captain, his introduction to the world of piracy. his mentor. his abuser. and after that whole monologue about never going back to land, just sailing and plundering forever. he was miserable, acquiring treasure just to throw it out, causing chaos for no reason. you have to understand that piracy, as it was, will never make ed happy. it's not what he wants, it's not what he needs, it's very specifically, explicitly, identified as the source of his overwhelming self-hatred. hornigold is the one that pushes him off the cliff. ed is the one who desperately tries to undo the ropes.

and that's another thing like!! yeah mermaid stede came to him as a lighthouse beacon but, ed was already steering himself towards the shore. just as no one person drove ed off the deep end, no one person saved him. he saved himself. and that's so fucking important to me. it wasn't love that saved him, but he had love to look forward to when he woke up. ed was the one untying the ropes, ed was the one forcing himself to stay alive, the whole time. and that's really fucking hard to do. "to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it" that's what ed is doing. he's not a damsel in distress being saved by true love's kiss. he is fighting, kicking and screaming, to find a life he can bear to live. stede is a bonus.