#thrilled to be granted entry

[venusdebotticelli]

Just had a realisation thinking about the latest bts and how naturally they just come up with silly little songs on the spot when they're bouncing it off each other. What if this was something they already did during their time together in s1, and Ed composing sad songs in the blanket fort was him trying to recapture some of that magic, and calling Lucius in because doing it alone just doesn't work, it doesn't feel right, but it still wasn't the same as with Stede🥲🫠😭

[naranjapetrificada]

[Queueing this a few days early because I know I'll forget the day of]

According to the depths of my archived emails, it was a year ago today when when I created this account, which wasn't my first tumblr account but even though I didn't know it yet, it was going to be the first account I ever used with any regularity. I only did it because of the stupid thing where you have to log in to actually see shit, which was something I wanted to do because I needed wanted to read OFMD meta so badly. I didn't realize it, but even creating this account was a sign that this show and its fandom were going to Mean Something New to me.

(behold: an overlong post about what OFMD and being in this fandom have meant to me, despite the horrors and The Horrors™)

I'm not a fandom rookie. I've been in and out of fandom spaces since my early teens, which means decades plural, although I'll further date myself by clarifying that those spaces were forums and, more than anything else, back-in-the-day livejournal (qepd). I've had blorbos since long before we called them that, or even called them "babygirl." As soon as we had internet access at home I was googling my shows and my characters to see what people said about them and discovering the magic of reading and writing fanfic.

I started using this account to lurk and take in people's thoughtful meta, and puzzle over what I called in my head "kylo ren disease" before I learned to call those corners of the fandom the canyon. But what got me to finally post for the first time was after reading too many fics that evoked themes in the show (and my life) that I wasn't ready to deal with until I finally granted myself a space to yell into the void about grief (general existential grief, the grief inherent in Stede and Ed finding each other relatively late in life, the grief of not being able to become who you are because society has no room for your authentic self, etc). Seriously, every original post I made for the first several weeks I was here was about grief, to the point of needing a dedicated hashtag.

It took me some time yelling into what turned out to not be a void (because people wanted to hear what I had to say?) before I realized another thing I was grieving: writing. I have tremendous baggage around writing, in ways that other "gifted" kids will immediately understand. But suddenly I could write again, hold shit! I wrote lots of meta, until the feelings I had about everything boiled over into a shortish fic because I literally couldn't find anywhere else to put them.

This was the first time I felt compelled to write my own fic in over a decade, and the first time in around that same amount of time that I could stomach writing fiction at all. Then I wrote another. And another. I often describe these shorter fics as having been written by "the poetry part of my brain," which is shorthand for being centered around an image or two that I couldn't stop thinking about, not really needing plot, and perhaps most importantly, self-contained in a way that allowed me to use them as tools to process an emotion and then put it in a box like season 2 Frenchie.

I love and value those fics, the way you can love and value something that helped you but that you no longer have a strong attachment to. That I can look at them now and see beauty in fiction I wrote without my aforementioned writing baggage causing a problem is a testament to how important they were for me. But then I started thinking I might want to write a longfic, and when the idea didn't go away after a few month I decided fuck, I guess I'm doing it? And I am doing it, and that is huge, and when (not if, when) I finish it will be the longest piece of fiction and one of the longest pieces of writing I've ever completed.

I'm actually writing longform fiction, something I've attempted to do my entire life but that never felt possible. And not only does it feel possible, it feels important (to me at least) and necessary and vital. That's the way writing used to feel before, well, *gestures at previous two decades* and being given that back is truly a kind of gift. And yeah that's a gift that the source material gave me, but it was also a gift from all of you who are out there reading and writing and commenting and painting and literally ever other form of participating in a fandom that it's possible to do. It's a gift that has allowed me to reclaim huge parts of myself and my personal narrative in ways that are truly therapeutic (which my therapist, a former art therapist, has endured me talking about at length). It's a gift I'm going to be grateful for forever, and I'm just so thankful to all of you for it. And I'll even still be thankful for it the next time I'm forced to behold whatever new cursed take has popped up in the tags.

I think. Definitely probably. It's just the cost of doing business.

[venusdebotticelli]

Okay so, I think it's very likely that after Stede and Ed have had their first reunion they're gonna be separated again soon after. Probably because Ed's gonna be like "I'm totally over you actually and don't wanna see your stupid face ever again" and run away from Stede just because of how absolutely tooooootally over him he is, right? So Stede will probably be aboard the Revenge while Ed is elsewhere having his Live Laugh Love spiritual journey of Finding Himself and all that.

Now imagine Stede all bummed out because he's just having the full realisation of exactly how much he hurt Ed, and there's no hope, he absolutely blew it, Ed obviously wants nothing to do with him ever again! Despair! So he goes to mope to the Captain's quarters, wallows in the tragic state of them a bit while missing Ed terribly, and his eyes catch on a funky little skeleton dressed up all in black on a familiar spot on a particular shelf...

And he finds not only all of his auxiliary clothes intact, but also a nest in the middle of the room with two little figurines in it that have a very particular look to them!

Cue "Hello, Edward!" and "shipmates" and chasing Ed all over the place while Ed is like "who are you again?" and "I don't need you at all, look how I'm thriving all by myself and I definitely don't miss you, not even a little bit!", y'know, like a liar. And maybe they're having messy sex throughout all of this or maybe they're not, but either way, Stede knows! He knows! He saw the proof of Ed's heart carefully hidden away where only Stede could find it! He can fix this! He's gonna put his all into earning that trust back! Because he knows there's hope! ;U;

And yeah, this is more of a headcanon than actual speculation, but it's eating me alive, so I had to inflict it on you all as wel! 🔥🙌🔥

[venusdebotticelli]

I just wrote a monster of a reply on this post by @girlbossblackbeard, but I wanted to post this part on its own as well, because this epiphany just completely obliterated all my theories about the possible first reunion between Ed and Stede! (I do think they're gonna have tons of reunions throughout the season, as Stede keeps chasing after Ed and Ed keeps avoiding him and telling him to get lost.)

In their op, they pointed this out:

"the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!"

And in response, I noticed many many more things about that particular ship's crew, and what it says about who might be present:

I agree that the chest in Ed's quarters looks like the one they're carrying off that ship, but if I may add even more details...

The guy Stede successfully punches is dressed like the crew from that same ship where Ed is dressed like the Vampire Clown Blackbeard version, still with the Kraken makeup on, and shooting at something¿? (I don't think whatever he's shooting at is actually Stede, because you can see Frenchie and Jim's heads on the bottom left of that shot, and they don't seem all that interested in whatever Blackbeard is currently doing, they're just focused on their loot/corpses/whatever. And idk how I feel about the theory that Izzy loses his leg because Ed shoots it, rather than just gangrene, but if we were to go with that one: what if Izzy and Stede have been collaborating in secret, and this raid is when Ed finds out? I don't want or particularly expect that prediction to actually be right, but just putting it out there *shrug emoji* It could then also lead to Ed's "very rough night" and recruiting Frenchie to help with cleaning up his act the next morning?)

Also, when Stede does his swirly bit with the coat he's very much aboard the Revenge, because that's what the internal doors look like on the ship:

But I have no idea how that fits in the timeline. I think there may be a gap between when he first finds the coat, until the moment he gets to actually put on the whole suit with the matching pants¿? Or maybe not¿? Maybe all of that is happening in eps 1-2, which is an insane amount of information¿?¿??¿¿? 🔥🙌🔥

Also, I just realised this after I wrote all of that, I think this might be Jim going in behind Stede into the "I did a punch!" room¿? What's going on?¿?¿¿?¿?¿?¿? 😭

Tl;dr, I am losing my whole mind trying to piece a timeline with this scene 🔥🙌🔥 The Reunion™ could be as soon as ep1 going by this?¿?¿¿? While Ed is still in Kraken mode?¿¿?¿??

Edit: I also have no idea how Izzy/Jim's makeup or lack thereoff fits in with this timeline. Maybe they raid the same ship twice, at two separate points in time? Or it's a fleet with a strict uniform code, maybe a different navy, other than the English?

The Spanish Navy grunts from s1 dressed like this:

which is actually a very similar look, so maybe it really is just two different ships from the Spanish navy. It also explains all the catholic imagery and paraphernalia in the room where Stede finds the red & gold suit (the same colours as the ones the Spanish officers have).

So nvm, I've just convinced myself they're two separate instances, and I'm back to thinking the first reunion might be the headbutt 😅

Still interesting to point out, I think :D

(Also wondering about the significance of red neckties this season, which the Spanish grunts were missing in s1 but now all have, and Spanish Jackie's, and obviously, Stede's... 😁)

[hugesigh]

if ed had been in spanish jackie’s when stede came in all “i may be landed gentry but i’m thrilled to be granted entry” he would’ve been the one person to laugh

[venusdebotticelli]

He has knuckle tats that say 'jane'??????????????? Why am I just now finding this out??????????????????? 👀

Does the other hand say 'mary', as a tribute to good weed??? I can't think of anything else it could be, otherwise. I desperately need a good quality picture of his other hand now, the fascination over his tattoo choices is eating me alive this season ;U;

x

[swappermanent]

Life In Retrospect (Part 2)

I ran my fingers along my neck again, as if expecting it to suddenly materialize, but all I felt was smooth, muscular skin. If the necklace was gone... did that mean this was permanent? The thought hit me like a jolt of electricity, raising my cock to attention.

I hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought I wanted something so drastic. But now that it had happened—now that I was staring at the face and body of a man who was young, powerful, and exuded raw sexuality—I could see exactly why this was the wish the necklace had granted. Deep down, beneath the polite smiles and quiet resignation of age, I’d wanted this more than I could admit.

And seeing it, feeling it now… I knew it was right. This body was wasted on Mikey. But now, the thick mustache, the powerful jaw, massive shoulders, the rich, dark hair—they were all mine. All mine.

My hand drifted lower, sliding down over my—his—flat stomach until I felt the warm thickness of his cock, already hard in my grip. I moved to the bed, sinking down onto it as I leaned back and let my hands continue exploring. With one hand stroking my cock slowly, I used the other to feel up my smooth, firm chest, indulging in the primal thrill.

The pleasure built quickly, my breaths coming in shallow gasps, my new voice low and rough as I gave in completely. I stroked myself with a steady rhythm, feeling the warmth pooling in my core, spreading through every muscle, every inch of skin. The sensation was dizzying, almost overwhelming. Finally, I cameMy body tensed, a shudder running through me as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and grinning at the ceiling as I ran a finger across my stomach and brought it up to my mouth for my first taste. Fuck I could get used to this.

---

I settled into Mikey's life with surprising ease. The next few days were a whirlwind of hanging out with his friends, hitting the gym, running around town, and just enjoying the energy that came with this young, powerful body. I felt more alive than I had in years—every step felt strong, every laugh deeper, every meal tastier. Even the simplest things, like the weight of this body as I moved, brought me a thrill of satisfaction.

But about a week and a half in, the glow started to flicker. It was subtle at first—brief flashes of weakness, a strange sense of disorientation that hit me out of nowhere. I’d chalked it up to the gym, maybe pushing myself a bit too hard, but the feeling grew worse, and by the third day, it was undeniable.

One morning, I got home from a run, feeling the most drained that I had since the swap, and sat down heavily in front of my computer. A thought nagged at me. I pulled up the site where I’d first looked up the necklace and scrolled through the pages, scanning the text with growing dread. I found the entry that had originally described the necklace’s powers and read the section again, the words coming into sharper focus than they had the first time.

"The Amulet of Wishes grants the wearer the temporary experience of their deepest, subconscious desire. The magic is designed to fade with time, gradually encouraging the wearer to take action toward meaningful changes in their own life."

Shit.

I kept reading, my eyes darting over the ancient text as I searched for a way to make this last. My heart pounded with urgency as I came across the section I’d been hoping for: the conditions for making a wish permanent.

“In most cases,” the text read, “the wishes bestowed by the Amulet of Wishes cannot be made permanent, as they are based on creation—an inherent violation of the natural laws of the universe. Thus, the magic is destined to dissipate.”

My stomach sank, but I kept going.

“However,” it continued, “there exists one exception: the wish of a body swap. Unlike creation, a swap is an exchange of essences, preserving the balance of natural order. To make such a swap permanent, the grantee must transform their new body to better reflect their unique essence—through altering mannerisms, attire, personality traits, and any distinctive aspect that marks their identity. This process convinces the amulet that the body’s former inhabitant is no longer suited to reclaim it. Only then will the necklace bind the grantee to their new form forever.”

A spark of hope flickered in my chest, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The entry concluded with a note on how to summon the amulet if it had already disappeared: an incantation, ancient and direct.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I whispered the words aloud. The room seemed to shift, the air crackling around me. I felt a familiar weight settle against my neck—the amulet, its cool metal pressing against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, a mix of awe and anticipation coursing through me. The first step was complete. Now, it was time to begin the ritual to claim this body as my own for good.

I stood up, looking at myself in the mirror—the sharp eyes, the rugged face, the powerful build that I’d inhabited over the last week and a half. This would take more than superficial changes; it would take commitment, subtle shifts in behavior, and the kind of confidence that came naturally to Mikey but had always eluded me.

“Alright,” I murmured to my reflection, feeling a surge of determination. “Let’s get started.”

Stay tuned for Part 3.

[queer-cheer]

He may be landed gentry, but he’s thrilled to be granted entry!

[venusdebotticelli]

@xoxoemynn

Kevin, you say? 👀

I want there to be an objectively hot pirate randomly appear on board the Revenge in S2 and he’s great at swordplay and loves a good fuckery and has a genius mind.

And his name is Steve.

And then Stede returns and sees Steve who is just the PERFECT male specimen and would be perfect for Ed and just LOOK at his hair and how he wields a sword and it’s not FAIR, and the ONLY advantage Stede has over him is that Steve is a fucking stupid name.

(Although the rest of the crew thinks pirates with great hair who can do a stabby stabby fuckery are a dubloon a dozen but they ARE impressed with his name because it is 1717 and how many Steves are there on pirate ships? So they find it very sexy and mysterious, which pisses Stede off because it is DUMB and STUPID.)

So then Ed and Stede are doing this awkward “ugh I still love you but there’s too much shit between us and it feels weird,” and Steve is getting quite comfortable on the ship and is blatantly flirting with Ed who is generally clueless but STEDE notices!! But he doesn’t notice that Ed doesn’t care because of course he doesn’t, he’s a bit of an idiot in that regard.

But anyway, Ed and Stede continue with this awkward sexy tango and Steve keeps trying to cut in and then finally Stede just throws caution to the wind and shoves Ed against a wall and smooches him silly and Ed kisses him back and it’s amazing and wonderful and everything they could have dreamed of.

And then when they part Stede goes “oh thank god, I’m so relieved, I was so afraid you were into Steve!” Ed is properly confused because he has ZERO interest in Steve, and his brain short circuits so much (I mean also some blood loss happening right now in a manner of speaking iykyk) that all he can bring himself to say is “Steve?! But he has such a fucking stupid name!”

And Stede goes “that’s what I was saying!!! It IS a fucking stupid name!!”

And then they just go off and make out for an entire episode and Steve just disappears and nobody ever mentions him again because he's served his purpose, which was to look pretty and cause chaos.

The End.

[scary-flag]

ok but the difference of how Lucius reacted to the "I may be landed gentry but I'm thrilled to be granted entry" and how officer Hornberry reacted

[apllecrash]

I may be landed gentry, but I’m thrilled to be granted entry!

[venusdebotticelli]

I don't currently have access to a computer to make it myself, but I am begging someone who does to please make an edit of Ed and Stede with the quote "We deserve a soft epilogue, my love" over it in an artsy font.

Obviously, because it would be extremely funny, given current fandom events.

But also, these two only met later in life, when they're both so done with the absolute shit sandwich life has served them up to that point, and they've both been told their whole lives that they can't be soft. The spirit of the quote just so happens to fit them so well too, they absolutely deserve to write their own soft epilogue with each other!

But also also, I cannot stress this enough, it would be extremely funny to me, personally, for petty reasons :p

[venusdebotticelli]

Sorry to butt in, I also have some thoughts!

I think the scene in the forest, where he's shooting at ghosts and smashing things with barrels, is probably after he falls overboard, because the whole makeshift shelter looks very shipwreck-y to me, and also the other person is wearing a sail as a cape. I can picture sort of a chain of events where ed falls overboard during that storm -> that shot of him coming out of the water on the beach -> bit of a castaway moment where he loses his mind a bit all by himself in that island, visited by ghosts of his past (i think i saw someone speculating in some tags that he may be seeing hornigold, but this was in the middle of the frenzy right after having watched the trailer and my brain was on fire, so I can't for the life of me remember what post it was on or who said it 😬 also, if that person really is a hallucination and not actually someone who ended up there with him, this could be a good scene for him to be seeing Lucius too, potentially, and whoever else he might be feeling tortured about) -> Stede and the navy both find Ed on that island at the same time (or the navy follows Stede there) -> dramatic mid-fight reunion scene on that beach! :D (where aside from the make-up, Ed is also missing his gloves and knee-brace, like during the forest scenes)

Also in this scenario, Stede and Izzy could have teamed up in order to search for Ed. Like, what if Stede & crew caught up to the revenge after the storm that threw Ed overboard? (Also plugging @amuseoffyre's Wonder Of Infamy here, which has a similar premise and is a great fic! :D)

Also, unrelated to that, but aside from the notches on the wall, another absolutely unhinged detail I fucking love about that screenshot is the little black skull at the bottom?

Pretty sure that's the little mannequin that opens up the auxiliary wardrobe, but now it's dressed in black and has gained a skeletal head!!!!! Honestly, this man, giving a Tough Scary makeover to the external key that guards his secret, softer heart!!!!!!!!!!! I love him so much, it makes me feel deranged skjsjsjdjsjj!!!!! ;U; 🔥🙌🔥

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

[whereforarthur]

Love and Hate are Blurred Lines

Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Category: Smut

*****

I loved her. I still love her, though I curse her in my sleep, so nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devastating emotions that control man, nations, life. - Edgar Rice Bourroughs

“Why are you always so... infuriating?" George Clarkey's voice echoed through the cobblestone streets of London, bouncing off the brick walls of the alleyway where they stood, face to face.

The rain pattered softly against the ground, mingling with the distant sound of the city's heartbeat. The air had the scent of damp earth and the ever-present aroma of tea shops that permeated the neighborhood. Y/n stared back at him, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something else, something deeper. It was a dance they'd performed a hundred times before, each step a silent challenge, each glance a wordless retort.

George's grip tightened on her wrists, his eyes searching hers for a hint of the fire he knew was hidden beneath her defiant exterior. The energy between them was palpable, a taut wire stretched to its breaking point. Every touch, every breath was a spark that could ignite the smoldering embers of their tumultuous relationship. They were two magnets, forever drawn together by an irresistible force, yet forever repelled by their own volatile natures.

Y/n felt a tremor run through her as his warm breath ghosted over her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The rain had matted her hair to her face, but she didn't dare move to brush it away, not with his body pressing so insistently against hers. She knew this game, knew the thrill of the chase and the sweet agony of surrender. Her heart raced, a wild stallion fighting the reins of propriety. She wanted to beg him to stop, but she also wanted him to never let her go.

The words she wanted to scream remained lodged in her throat, transforming into a whimper as his mouth traveled lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin above her collarbone. Her body betrayed her, arching into him despite the anger burning in her eyes. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a silent battle they both craved and feared in equal measure.

George felt the shift in her, the moment her resistance crumbled like sand beneath the relentless tide of his passion. He took a step closer, his body a cage around hers, his mouth now a whisper away from hers. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a promise and a threat. Y/n's eyes fluttered shut, and she could almost taste the desperation in her own breath as she responded, "Always."

Their kiss was explosive, a clash of teeth and tongues that left them both gasping for air. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her roughly against him as he ground his erection into her stomach. The world around them faded into a symphony of sensation, the rain a gentle backdrop to the storm raging within them. The alleyway was their sanctuary, their battleground, where the lines between love and hate were so blurred that they were indistinguishable.

George's voice was a dark caress in her ear, detailing his every desire. "I'm going to strip you bare, leave you exposed and trembling before me," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "I'll kiss every inch of you, licking away the last of your innocence until you're begging for the relief only I can give." His words were a potent mix of seduction and domination, leaving her knees weak and her mind racing with anticipation.

The cobblestones were cold and rough against her back as he pushed her against the alley wall, his body a solid presence that seemed to swallow hers whole. He kissed her harder, his tongue demanding entry to her mouth, which she granted eagerly. The world around them melted away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the thump of their racing hearts.

Y/n's legs wrapped around George's waist, her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer, urging him to consume her. The rain soaked through her dress, plastering it to her body, revealing every curve and contour. He groaned, his eyes raking over her with a hunger that was almost feral.

His hands found the zipper of her dress, and with one swift motion, it was pooling around her ankles, leaving her in nothing but her sodden underwear. He took a step back, admiring the beauty of her form, the way the rain painted her body, making her seem almost ethereal. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze.

He slid his hand into her panties, his fingers finding her slick heat. A gasp tore from her chest as he began to explore her, his touch sure and confident. The alley was theirs, a hidden stage for their carnally charged dance. The grime and the grit of the city only served to heighten the illicitness of their encounter, the stark contrast between the cold, hard stones and the warm, soft flesh of their bodies.

Her hips rolled against his hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure. His thumb found her clit, stroking it in slow, torturous circles that had her biting her lip to keep from screaming out. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony in her ear. "So fucking wet for me."

The words were like gasoline on a flame, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole. She bucked against his hand, desperation seeping into her movements. The alley was a blur of shadow and light, the only real thing in her world the feeling of him touching her, owning her, making her feel alive in a way she never had before.

"Beg for it," he whispered, his voice a dark command that sent a shiver down her spine. "Beg me to make you come."

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze. "Please," she rasped, her voice barely audible over the hammering of her heart. "Please, George, make me come."

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as he picked up the pace, his fingers working her with a skill that left her trembling. The alley was a cocoon of desire, the world outside forgotten as she focused solely on the sensations he was pulling from her. Her breath grew shallower, her moans growing louder with each stroke.

"You're so close," he murmured, his own breath hot and ragged. "Let go for me, baby."

And with those words, she did. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her a trembling mess in his arms. He didn't stop, though, his fingers relentless as he pushed her through the peak and into the blissful oblivion beyond. The alley was a canvas for their passion, painted with the vibrant colors of lust and need.

As the tremors subsided, y/n leaned her head against the cool brick wall, panting heavily. George's grip on her wrists loosened, his touch turning gentle as he traced the red marks he'd left. "You're mine," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Mine to ruin."

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his once more. The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable, and she knew that this was only the beginning. With a nod, she whispered, "Yes, I'm yours."

They were lost in a world of their own making, a world where only the two of them existed. The rain fell harder, a physical manifestation of their tumultuous emotions.

As George's mouth found hers again, y/n could feel the beginnings of something she hadn't expected, something that scared her more than his dominance ever had. Love. It was a feeling she'd buried deep, a treasure she'd kept hidden from the pirate who'd stolen her heart. But now, as he claimed her body with a ferocity that bordered on obsession, she realized she could no longer deny it.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a silent confession of the love and hate that had twisted and tangled them together. The sounds of the city were muted by the rhythm of their breaths and the slap of skin on skin. In that moment, they were the only two people in the world, their hearts beating in sync like a drum that sang the story of their tumultuous love.

He leaned in, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss, his hand still buried in her pants, her legs wrapped around his waist. The cobblestones dug into her back, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of him, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the thunder a mournful lullaby to their shattered hearts. And then, as if on cue, George's grip loosened, and he took a step back, breaking the spell. Y/n felt the cold seep into her bones as the reality of what they'd just done set in.

They were two people who'd danced on the edge of a volcano for too long, and now they were teetering on the brink of an eruption. The lines between love and hate had become so indistinguishable that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

"Look what you've done," George murmured, his voice thick with a mix of satisfaction and disbelief as he stepped back to survey the wreckage of their clothing and the battleground of their desires. Rain dripped from his eyelashes, painting a stark contrast against the fiery need in his eyes.

Y/n shivered, not from the cold, but from the stark reality of their situation. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. "It's what we both wanted," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the patter of rain. The words hung in the air, a feeble attempt to justify the tumultuous maelstrom of emotions that swirled within her.

He reached out, brushing a wet lock of hair from her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone with a tenderness that seemed out of place in the harshness of the alley. "We're a disaster waiting to happen," he said, his voice filled with a sadness that made her chest ache. "But I can't stay away from you."

The rain had soaked through her underwear, leaving her trembling not just from the cold but from the intensity of their encounter. George noticed and his eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her trembling body. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his warmth as he carried her out of the alley and into the relative shelter of a nearby doorway.

There, out of the rain, he set her down, his hands lingering on her waist. The intimacy of the moment washed over her like a wave, crashing down the barriers she had built to keep him at bay. "We're not good for each other," she whispered, her voice cracking with the effort it took to form the words.

"But we're so good together," he countered, his breath warm against her ear. His hand slid up her back, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her in for another kiss, one that was softer, slower, more deliberate than the ones that had come before. It was a kiss that spoke of love and regret, of passion and pain.

The rain continued to fall around them, a silent chorus to their unspoken confessions. They were a mess of tangled limbs and emotions, their hearts beating together like two wild animals caught in a hunter's snare. And as the storm raged on, they realized that their love was the eye of the hurricane, a calm yet destructive force that had the power to consume them both.

Their breaths mingled in the damp air, each one a silent promise of what was to come. The tension between them was a living entity, pulsing and growing with every second that ticked by. They knew they couldn't sustain this tempestuous dance forever, but for now, they were content to be lost in the storm, two souls forever entwined in a passion that was as fiery as it was destructive.

George's eyes searched hers, a tempest of emotions swirling within their depths. "You drive me mad," he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl that sent shivers down her spine. "But without you, I'm nothing." His thumb traced the line of her jaw, a gentle caress that belied the strength of his grip on her hips.

Y/n leaned into his touch, her body craving the warmth and the pain that came with it. "And you're my addiction," she admitted, her voice barely above a murmur. "One I can't seem to quit." The words hung in the air, a stark confession that seemed to echo the very essence of their tumultuous relationship.

The rain fell harder, a relentless symphony that mirrored the intensity of their feelings. They were two halves of the same coin, forever spinning towards each other, forever repelling at the last second. The lines between love and hate were so blurred that they could no longer tell where one began and the other ended. It was a dance of desire and anger, a dance that had no clear beginning or end.

Their kisses grew more desperate, as if trying to fill the void that threatened to swallow them whole. Each touch was a declaration of war, each caress a silent apology. They were two people caught in the crossfire of their own emotions, their hearts a battleground where love and hate waged a never-ending war.

The alley was their sanctuary, their prison, a place where they could let go of the facades they wore for the world outside. Here, in the shadows, they were free to be the monsters that lurked within them, free to embrace the chaos that defined their bond.

The thunder crashed overhead, a fitting soundtrack to the tumultuous scene playing out between them. Y/n's hands clawed at George's back, her nails leaving trails of red on his skin. He didn't flinch, instead, he reveled in the pain, feeding off of it like it was the air he breathed. It was a twisted symphony of love and aggression, a dance that could only end in one way.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her against the cold brick wall, his hips grinding into hers with a desperation that was almost palpable. She could feel him, hard and insistent, the evidence of his need pressing into her stomach. The rain soaked through her clothes, making her shiver, but it was his touch that set her alight, turning her tremors into a bonfire of passion.

Their movements grew more frantic, each touch a declaration of war, each kiss a silent surrender. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a battle of wills that had no clear victor. They were two lost souls, forever caught in the hurricane of their own making, destined to either destroy each other or be destroyed by the very love that bound them together.

And as the thunder roared and the lightning illuminated the alley in stark white flashes, they gave themselves over to the storm, letting it consume them, letting it tear them apart. The rain fell in sheets, a curtain that shielded them from the prying eyes of the world, allowing them to be nothing more than two bodies, two hearts, two souls intertwined in a passion that defied logic and reason.

In that moment, as the storm raged on, they were free. Free from the constraints of society, free from the expectations of their peers, free from the very essence of who they were supposed to be. They were simply George and y/n, two people who had found refuge in the chaos of their love.

The alley was their battleground, their lovers' lane, a place where the lines between love and hate blurred into something so potent, so all-consuming, that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It was a love that could either save them or destroy them, and as they stood there, drenched and trembling, they knew that they would never truly escape the storm that was their love.

George's hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each touch was a silent apology, each kiss a promise of more pain to come. Y/n's breath hitched as his fingers danced over her skin, her body a canvas for his artistry of passion and aggression. She could feel the blurred lines of their emotions coiling around them, tightening with every beat of their hearts.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, she saw the love and the hate, the desire and the anger, the tenderness and the brutality. It was a toxic cocktail that had them both in its thrall, a dance that could only end in ruin. But even as she knew this, she couldn't help but lean into his embrace, craving the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his kiss.

The rain fell harder, a blessed relief against the heat of their bodies. The cold water washed away the tears that had mingled with the sweat on her face, a silent confession of the turmoil within her. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, as if she could somehow absorb his very essence into her own being.

Their breaths grew ragged, their movements more frantic as they sought to claim each other completely. The thunder rumbled above them, a bass line to their passionate symphony, as if the heavens themselves were applauding their tumultuous love.

Their kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as if they could drown in each other's mouths and never come up for air. The rain fell in a torrent, a mirror to the emotions that surged through them. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a battle of wills that had no clear winner.

Y/n felt herself slipping, losing herself in the chaos of their love. Her body arched against his, her legs tightening around his waist as he pinned her against the wall. The world outside was a distant memory, replaced by the pounding of their hearts and the slickness of their skin.

The lightning flashed, illuminating their love in stark relief. For a moment, they were gods, writhing in the throes of passion amidst the fury of the storm. And then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, leaving them gasping and trembling in the aftermath.

The rain had turned their love into something wild, something untamed. It was a love that could not be contained, a love that could not be controlled. It was a love that could only be felt in the throes of a tempest, a love that could only be expressed in the language of the storm.

Their eyes searched each other's, looking for answers, for a way out of the madness that had overtaken them. But all they found was the reflection of their own desires, their own needs, their own darkness. They were two lost souls, forever tangled in the web of their love-hate.

And as the storm outside began to abate, they knew that the storm within them had only just begun. They were two people, forever bound by the blurred lines that separated love from hate, forever destined to dance in the eye of the hurricane.

*****

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