you know stede would play along with ed's innkeeper roleplay
OH MY GOD HE WOULD!!!!!! YOU JUST KNOW HE WOULD
he'd ding the bell without being asked to. he'd announce that he's got a reservation under some fake name, and then he'd ask ed to walk him to his room for him. i guarantee that fruitcake would even ask to see the ring of keys.
all ed wants in this stupid life is for someone to match his energy and be silly with. and then here comes drama-club-kid stede bonnet and blows it out of the fucking water. i hate them (lying)
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Wouldn't it just be delicious if in season 2 the show went out of its way to confirm Ed's literacy, like showing him casually doing captain things like looking at ship manifests or checking ledgers or whatever? I think that could be hilarious.
I'm already an Ed Can Read truther because beyond the likelihood that a captain would need to be able to read maps and charts and the like, the set for his cabin on his original ship included scrolls, and at the party we see him look at the dinner place card while sitting in the right place.
Also historically, it really wasn't that uncommon to be able to read but not write! So him signing with an X doesn't disprove that to me. It would be even funnier if later on we learned that he knew how to write properly too, or even had a lovely running hand that rivaled Lucius? I would just eat that up with a spoon.
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Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday
thank you to @chaotictarlos, @theghostofashton, @alrightbuckaroo, and @taralaurel for the tags
you get two snippets today - one from checkmate, i never lose and another from agent reyes <3
checkmate, i never lose
Mr. Strand…”
“I’m sorry, were you under the impression that it was a request? No, I’m telling you. I’ll come to find you guys if I plan on leaving.” TK knows he sounds like a dick, but there’s really only so much he can handle today.
The residence door closes behind the agents whose names TK never even bothered to learn, and TK slumps into the nearest couch he sees. He shrugs out of his hoodie, leaving him in a t-shirt and sweats that he definitely shouldn’t have worn into the Oval Office. TK’s eyes automatically land on the grey words written on his forearm, in a distinctly flowy cursive.
It’s a pleasure to be of service to you, Mr. Strand.
TK pities whoever has his chicken scratch scribbled onto his arm. (It had to be a man, right? The universe wasn’t going to fuck him over that thoroughly, right?)
Of course, TK’s soulmate was going to end up working for him. TK’s entire life was set up to throw curveballs at him, and he’d managed to muscle through and survive most of them. Was this the curveball that cut him off at the knees, and crippled him for good? Was this the hurdle that he couldn’t jump over, the hurdle that buries him in a thousand feet of snow, freezing and suffocating him until he couldn’t see the light?
agent reyes
He forces himself to slow down and appease anyone that might be worried about his reaction. He flashes a fake smile to everyone watching, and he turns around and walks out. He walks and walks, and he finds himself back at the pier he first found when he left.
As he sits in silence, the dull ache in his chest roars into screaming pain as memories rush over him.
He thinks about the first cousin he came out to at fourteen, who never quite spoke to him the same afterward. Carlos didn’t say the words “I’m gay” out loud again until three years later, two days before he moved out of his parents’ house.
He thinks about the quiet silence that met him when he whispers the words across the dining table to his parents, and the way the kiss his mother pressed to his forehead and the squeeze his father gave his shoulder felt perfunctory — like they thought it was something they had to do.
He thinks about the time he brings up maybe signing up for the Austin Police Academy, and his father told him it was a bad idea, and that he thought Carlos was too soft.
The “because you’re gay” hung in the silence between them.
They never brought Carlos being gay, or his dreams of the academy, up again, and Carlos moved to DC, where he ended up in the CIA.
He talks to his mother twice a week and flies down for Sunday lunch at Tía Lucy’s and yet he’s never felt farther from his family.
He’s never felt lonelier.
i'm going to tag @bonheur-cafe, @detective-giggles, @decafdino and @catanisspicy
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