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#ofmd analysis
dean-winchesters-clit · 7 months
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Been thinking about the kiss scene and Ed asking to go slow and Stede reaching out to hold his hand, asking if it's okay.
Yes, it's awesome that Ed is setting boundaries and Stede is honoring those boundaries, but I think there's more to it than that.
Stede tries to initiate more during their kiss. He's the one who grasps Ed's hair, the one who takes the kiss from chaste to passionate. Stede is a man who has been denied human connection and intimacy for most of his life. He's a man dying of thirst in a desert and Ed is the beautiful oasis he's stumbled upon, so of course Stede wants to drink his fill. Who wouldn't want a piece of Edward Teach? But then Ed pulls away, uses Stede's own words against him, and you can immediately tell that Stede is scared he's being too much.
I've been a very physically affectionate person my whole life. I love hugs and giving cheek kisses and snuggling so much. I still sleep with my baby blanket so I have something to hold at night. I'm always afraid of being too much for other people. I've overstepped other people's boundaries before and it feels awful to do so. Because of this, I've often compromised my own need for physical affection, always letting other people set the boundaries and never telling them if I need more. This became a big problem in my last relationship; I accepted less than crumbs even though I was starving.
Stede is clearly starving for any physical contact with Ed. He sits close to him on the couch in Anne and Mary's house, always moving and leaning closer. He tries to initiate more during their kiss and even grabs Ed to keep him from moving away. So, when Ed sets a clear boundary, Stede is terrified to even initiate another touch. He's afraid of being too much, of scaring Ed off.
Which is why it's so fucking brave of him to ask if holding Ed's hand is okay.
Ed jokes about them both being the fish that wants to get caught and Stede visibly relaxes at the familiar banter between them. So, he takes a risk and reaches out for a point of contact that he needs. Because he's scared of being too much, scared of scaring Ed away, scared of never being touched ever again. He needs reassurance, needs to make his own need for contact known, needs to make sure he's not too much.
And it's almost like Ed realizes this and immediately takes Stede's hand, immediately says "this is perfect this touch is perfect this contact is perfect your touch is perfect." And then Ed initiates even more touching by stacking their hands, by initiating play that Stede immediately latches onto. Ed sees Stede's desire and says "I'm not ready for more yet, but I can meet you halfway. I can give you reassurance and contact in simple ways until I'm ready for the next step."
And that is just so beautiful. It's not just the boundary setting and boundary honoring, it's the recognizing of needs and making a compromise to meet someone halfway.
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edscuntyeyeshadow · 4 months
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what if I walked off a cliff 😀
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lottiematthewsceo · 7 months
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“he was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying” no cause let’s talk about how a lot of people think stede either refuses to see and acknowledge all the bad shit ed’s done or doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation but just like ed they really don’t get him at all because stede knows ed better than any of them and he knows why ed is doing this he’s heartbroken.
stede’s morals are a bit (very) fucked especially when it comes to those he loves especially ed so he doesn’t care that ed is beheading people or doing arson he cares about how these acts make him feel (sad and upset) and he doesn’t want ed doing shit that upsets him or that he doesn’t like am i making sense?
ed’s well-being is important to him so if ed was happy doing these things he would have a problem but ed isn’t happy so it’s a problem
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our-flag-means-love · 2 years
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so i realized a connection the other day.
in episode 2, when stede is feeling guilty about nigel badminton's death, he asks pete how blackbeard deals with the psychological effects of murder, and pete replies:
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it's obvious to pete that blackbeard lives off of the high of killing, and that it comes as naturally to him as the most basic of human functions.
of course, when we get to know ed, we learn that this couldn't be further from the truth. in reality, he's only ever killed one person—his abusive father—and it left him traumatized, to the point where the scariest thing he's ever seen—
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—is the part of himself that's capable of murder.
the only other time we see him reference this deep "kraken" part of him is moments after (he thinks) he's killed again for the first time since.
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now, let's compare this to the only other time we see someone describe something as being like breathing.
in episode 10, when stede asks mary how it feels to be in love, the first thing she says is this:
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and i realize she's talking to stede here, and about her own experiences, but i can't help but notice that parallel and compare it to everything we know about ed, because i strongly believe this applies to him too.
people think what comes most easily and naturally to blackbeard is blood and violence and death, but in reality, it's love.
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raggedy-spaceman · 6 months
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I know the concept of time can be played with and doesn't have to make a lot of sense in a show like OFMD, but I think it's interesting that they took the time to change Izzy's scar between episodes. It's especially noticeable between episode 5 where it's still very red
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And episoed 6 where it's already so pink it's almost invisible
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This would seem to indicate that between episode 5 and 6 some days have passed, at the very least. So between "can we take it slow" and them actually having sex there was some amount of time, it didn't happen in the span of 24 hours as some people have been saying...
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fresne999 · 6 months
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Half way through the journey of our analyses
I feel like roughly half of the analysis I'm reading about OFMD S2 is folks who clearly fixated on a character (it's Izzy, it's always Izzy that inspires this kind of analysis) write analyses that cause the 2nd response of, "Um…did you ever study literary analysis in school."
Now I come at this from a slightly odd place in that I did study literary analysis in school (30+ years ago) where I learned it's possible to interpret anything about any way, because we're all bringing different lenses to the analysis. Which isn't to say that an author can't have an intended interpretation. 
Dante in Canto V of Inferno (Divine Comedy) would still like folks to understand fixating on the two damned-lovers and ignoring the details that the artist is putting in there for you to catch about how they are damned because they won't change the toxic patterns that got them there in the first place. Also, they can't because they are in hell, and hell is like that. That Dante-the-writer had Dante-the-character swoon over those same two damned-lovers (because Dante-the-character is on a journey of moral correction) is hilarious, but doesn't make it any less the point of that section of the work, but I digress.
As a career, I am very aware that folks love to misinterpret what is meant to be very clear instructions. Of course, I'm writing policies and procedures, which is a bit different from writing fiction, and is worlds away from creating a t.v. show. But that's the life experience that I always bring to literary analysis. Frequently, people choose their interpretations to fit what they want to see, and that's part of being human.
I've seen a fair number of folks interpret Izzy's redemption arc in S2 as one of a queer man struggling with disabilities and mental health issues whose struggle is made meaningless by his demise. Which sure, you could interpret it that way and in that it's coming from I'm sure an emotional place, I get it. And hmmm… I might give this interpretation more credence  if I hadn't read a lot of Izzy analysis for S1 that was wildly different than the text.
So let's take a step back. 
First, know the rules of the literary universe: OFMD is a show where the reality is not ours. It is either the Core Universe or something very close to it. BTW: If you've never heard of Core Universe or read the seminal BtVS+HtLJ "When Hellmouth's Collide" (https://www.ltljverse.com/index2.htm), a Core Universe is one where everything lines up. Row boats are magic, and where there is a Badminton, he will accidentally stab/shoot himself. 
Terminology more befitting of that fancy literature degree might be to say that OFMD functions along the logic of Magical Realism. Characters will appear briefly for the purposes of the story and then disappear not to be mentioned again (Nana, Calico Jack, Mary Read & Anne Bonny). Things align because they are meant to align. It is a universe where the Gravy Basket is a real place, and meant to be taken seriously.  It's also a universe where a man may become a seagull, because he loves the sea. You change for love, but the ways you change may be positive or toxic. 
They can result in a bird that never gets to know rest. Always flying over the sea. Or they lead to becoming a bird, who can float in the sea or land on a unicorn's leg. 
Transformation. 
Anyway, S1 - Stede commissioned a ship with secret passageways. It did not have a buxom mermaid on the prow, nor something more befitting a ship named the Revenge. He commissioned a unicorn prow and went off to become a pirate. 
A not particularly violent pirate. But a pirate who didn't have a problem with the violence of piracy. See Stede telling Lucius (hardest working man on the ship in S1) to take notes during a violent raid where the show's logo was literally carved into the chest of a dead man. 
BTW: The tone about violence is darker in S2, but the violence was there in S1. It was just presented in a more whimsical way. The nose jar was full of noses in S1. We heard about Blackbeard's violence. A man was skinned alive off screen, but we focused on the Prussian (but also sort of French) party. 
What Izzy needed to be redeemed from was established in S1. The problem is that folks who interpreted Izzy as a) the central focus of the show and b) a put upon manager just trying to do right by his crew (or as one Tumblerina referred to him as the man/father of the family going out to hunt - excuse me while I vomit - and support his family as men must do), are not going to understand what Izzy's S2 arc was all about. 
Ed and Stede are the main characters in a romantic story. There are other characters with their own arcs, but they are the main characters.
In S1, Stede created a safe space where characters had a chance to breathe for the first time. Possibly ever, and as a result revisited parts of themselves they'd lost. Wee John got back in touch with his roots as the son of a seamstress. Frenchie got back to what he loves, scamming the rich. The Swede sang like a siren of the sea, because it doesn't always have to be scary. 
Ed had his first good time in years. After expressing suicidal ideation to Izzy because of his terminal boredom in S1.E4 - Discomfort in a Married state, Ed found himself some balance. Some sweet marmalade. 
Ed and Izzy were in a toxic relationship that only reinforced their toxic behavior. And yes, I'm going to overuse the word toxic. While piracy is a place where you can go be yourself and shag whoever you want (whatever happens at sea stays at sea), it's not a place where you can be soft. Gentle. Emotionally open. Available. 
Ed's only path out that he could see at the time was to plan to skin the face of the man who built a ridonculous boat with a unicorn on the prow and wear it for the rest of his life. A plan to send Stede to Doggy Heaven. 
BTW: This is why Izzy uses the line in S2.E3 - the Innkeeper, that they put Ed down like a mad dog, so that Stede could reply that they sent Ed to Doggy Heaven. Reiterating this concept of piracy as violence, as taking away faces / identity / lives, but also losing one's own. Forgetting even what day of the year it is. Also revealing that Stede knew about Ed & Izzy's plan to murder him, send Stede to doggy heaven, and had moved on. 
This is also why the respite in S2.E4 - Fun and Games is so critical. Mary Read/Anne Bonney are portrayed as direct parallels to Stede/Ed. They are selling what are, no doubt, the spoils of their piracy. But they've chosen a remote location with no community, but each other and a life where they are not actually communicating. Which on its surface is where Ed and Stede end up, and yet…the Revenge can sail back. They are on the shore facing the sea, not in a jungle lost from a clear view. I'll quote the relevant Dante in just a bit, never fear.
Ed and Stede's new inn has the potential for a solid foundation, because the unicorn has been planted firmly in the ground, and if we get an S3, I firmly expect the unicorn leg to have transformed into a tree, because I've read a lot of medieval literature and that's how that sort of thing works. 
Well, it could be a penis tree (this was a thing in medieval marginalia), but somehow I don't think it will be. 
 But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
Back in S1, the plan to murder Stede and take his identity broke down despite Izzy trying to perform an intervention to get Ed back into the toxic soup, and ended with Ed curled up in a bathtub and opening up about murdering his father. An image the show chose to flash on the screen multiple times in S2 just in case folks forgot that this was a traumatizing event for Ed, and was itself the culmination of years of traumatic abuse at his father's hands. 
Just as Stede kept flashing back to the moment his father tells him what it is to be a man, and kills an animal, the blood splashing on Stede's wee little face. 
That this is the point of the show. Transforming past trauma. It's there. You always carry the scars. Sometimes, you decide to tattoo yourself with the image of the thing you fear, and then the thing you fear is always there, but you've got to keep moving forward. To stay in one place, to stay trapped in the same emotion/action, is hell. I've read a lot of lit crit of Dante's Inferno. Trust me, it's the same thing.
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of S1E6 - Here Dragons Be, because it's where the pustule of his relationship with Ed breaks. His attempted intervention fails to get Ed to kill Stede, so Izzy tries to kill Stede. Not realizing that a) Stede is a main character and b) this is a Core Universe show. Where it's possible to win a duel by being stabbed in the left side of your gut and stay there for many hours and not die. So he loses the 1 thing that defines him, his job. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of s1E8 - We Gull Way Back, where he enlists Calico Jack to lure Ed off the boat (with all the toxic masculinity that entailed) so that the British could show up and shoot the head off the unicorn, and kill Stede. So Izzy can crawl back into his old patterns / job / life. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the big drama confrontation in S1E10 - Wherever You Go There You Are, when as a person whose entire identity is tied up in being Blackbeard's First Mate and after realizing that he couldn't cut it as a captain on his own, he does whatever the f- he can to get Ed back into the toxic soup so he can get his old role/job back.  
This isn't to say that Ed's off the deep end actions in S2.E1&2 aren't his own choices. He is a main character. His emotional arc is one of the driving forces of the show. But they are the choices of a man who wants to die. After a lifetime of violent action that had been increasingly drowning him, he wants to die in the violence of battle, but the enemy are never good enough. He wants Izzy to kill him, but Izzy won't. Until he does…sort of. He wants to die in a storm. He's carving notches on his wall hoping to lure Ned Low to him so that he can die in pain. But Ed is the devil and does not die.
Except Ed's not the devil. He doesn't have a head made of smoke. He's a man. Not a fisherman. Not a fisher of men, and what an interesting attempt to go Christ himself off into the wilderness only to be fired for not being that good at it, and then receive his letter from the deep. 
Because in a show full of magical realism, the bottles with messages will reach the intended recipient eventually.
"In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself in a dark wood for the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to say what that wood was. So savage and harsh and strong, that the thought of it renews my fear. It is so bitter that death is little more so. But to speak of the good that I found there, I will tell of the other things I saw…and like one with laboring breath comes forth from the deep onto the shore, who turns back to the perilous water and stares, so my spirit still fleeing turned to gaze upon the pass that has never left anyone alive." Dante, Canto 1, Inferno. 
Instead of dying, Ed goes not to Purgatory (sorry I'd quote the opening lines, but Inferno actually works better here), but to the Gravy Basket, where he confronts the spirit of Hornigold. Dead spirit. Aspect of Ed's self. Both. Neither. Hated. Self. Unkillable. 
Is saved by a goldfish incarnation of Stede. 
But just as the imaginary as Stede's vision of what / who he thinks he needs to be for Ed, this is not true. Life being what it is, Ed and Stede rush when they need to go slow. They break apart because they are saying words, but the other person is hearing based on their own interpretation. 
BTW: The clue Dante-the-writer gives the reader in Canto V of Inferno is how one of the damned lovers, Francesca, explains how she hooked up with her brother-in-law, Paulo. She describes reading an Arthurian romance. She and Paulo kissed when Gwenevere and Lancelot kissed in the story. Except the version they are reading (and Dante tells the reader which version this is) was intended as a cautionary tale. Also, Paulo and Francesca were real people who were murdered by Francesca's husband when he caught them together. So there is that too.
I always like it in fiction when characters misinterpret each other because they hear based on their life experiences and don't hear the things that are said/unsaid based on the life experiences of the other person speaking. That's good writing. It's also how we end up with wildly varying interpretations of works of fiction.
But I digress.
Izzy's S2 arc is that he must let go of his relationship with Ed and turn to others. He must learn to let go of toxic masculinity and let in softness. Not weakness. Water is not weak, but it is soft. Calypso, goddess of the sea, is not weak. Her birthday is whatever day you need it to be. She is vast and deep and soft and relentless. 
In Ro-sham-bo, it's a shame that there is not a gesture for water. Because it is not paper that defeats stone, but water that wears away the stone. Of course, scissors wouldn't do much to water either, so that would sort of break Ro-sham-bo, so I suppose it must stay as it is.
It is through a craft's project that the crew of the Revenge find healing. Turn Izzy into the unicorn. A unicorn that Izzy's own actions caused to be decapitated with a British cannon ball in S1. That Izzy rendered legless (drunk). But the Revenge is a boat. They just need to swim/sail. It is through a craft's project that Izzy is able to offer healing to Lucius, who in turn is then able to turn their art away from fixating on Ed, and the trauma that he's been through and back towards love, and Black Pete. 
But it's not possible to see Izzy's S2 arc, if you didn't interpret S1 Izzy as needing to go through his own gravy basket. 
That Izzy dies because his transformation is necessary. He can't leave Ed, and if he doesn't leave Ed, then Ed can't stop being Blackbeard. The kracken. He literally tells Ed this as he chooses to transform. To free the world of Blackbeard, so Ed can be Ed. Yet, I've read so many posts by folks saying, "But why did he have to die?" Which sure, you can choose not believe what the character says while dying.
Which is a narrative privilege. To get a good dying speech. "There he is" get to be transmutted from an attack to an actual seeing. The larger than life concept of a smoke headed pirate can waft away.
Stories are hard to kill. They live on long past us, and as long as someone is remembered, especially in a universe like OFMD, we live. 
Though always reject the gift of a clock. That's someone telling you that you've only got so many hours left of life. If you are a character in a story. 
Thus the other parallel in this season is Izzy to Auntie and Ed to Zheng Yi Sao. Auntie must allow Zheng softness. Izzy must go through a sea change to something new and strange. Also, this would be a case of Doylistically the writers needed to line up Olu with Stede for that to work, and thus the new configurations of Olu and Jim's relationship, which, shrug, could be poly. Could be friends to lovers to friends.  Woulda, coulda, had more time, but that's on Max for not giving us 2 more episodes.
Prince Richard was trying to become a concept, but was too in love with the mechanics of it. Stede was trying to become a concept too. Found his fame, and all too quickly the toxic end of that particular route. Magical Realism was on his side until he tried to face down Zheng Yi Sao, the Queen of Pirates, and then the rules of the story weren't. Because those clocks were ticking. Everyone was in a very dark wood. The memory of blood splashed on Stede's face as a little boy was a warning. It was a reminder. It was the wrong lessons we take from our childhood and must unlearn to become whole.
Having the final shot of the show being Buttons landing on the unicorn leg as a reminder that this is a show about transformation. One thing becoming another thing. Somewhere the dead are dancing in Calypso's court. A dance below the sea and on the sea and with the sea. While the living keep sailing on their magic ship to do…I don't know. 
Because the Golden Age of Piracy is coming to an end. They'll go create new worlds and new places to be. Transforming.
If we get no more of the show, this is a resolution.
Since I've been quoting Dante, I'm going to end this with the final vision in Paradiso. Because folks who haven't been reading my analysis for the last 30 years / read it, may not realize that the Divine Comedy (a story that begins in sorrow and ends in joy) ends with the vision of a 3 way rainbow. 
"In the profound and shining Being of the deep Light, three circles appeared, of three colours, and one magnitude: one seemed refracted by the other, like Iris’s rainbows, and the third seemed fire breathed equally from both. O how the words fall short, and how feeble compared with my conceiving!…Power, here, failed the deep imagining: but already my desire and will were rolled, like a wheel that is turned, equally, by the Love that moves the Sun and the other stars."
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frooogscream · 6 months
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David Jenkins said Ed x Stede were not supposed to have a real love story!
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So not only where all the beautiful queer details not part of the original idea (Izzy being a jittered spouse instead of just evil lil henchman-because of how Con envisioned him, Jim being NB- added after casting Vico, Wee John doing drag- because of Kristian, etc.).
And even the main gay couple, the only queer thing remaining, was never supposed to end in a happy love story. 
This show was NEVER supposed to give us beautiful things and treat it’s queer characters with “kindness”! It was NEVER supposed to be for queer people!
Every thing I loved about ofmd was because of the queer actors involved in this show (+apparently a little thanks to Taika and Rhys seeing more of the beautiful potential this has as an actual love story then David ever did).
In some way this almost makes it beautiful again, like we were never even supposed to have what we got, just another mid queer baity comedy, but then all these amazing people poured their fucking heart into it and changed it in a way that actually made it mean something to us!
link to the interview compilation post+link to original interview: https://www.tumblr.com/ladyluscinia/733134895182970880/what-exactly-did-david-jenkins-say?source=share
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This kiss broke me.
Depsite Stede grabbing Ed by his lapels, it was so gentle.
Ed puts his arm around Stede's shoulder, around his waist. Stede reaches into Ed's hair like he did in the last episode.
But not only that.
This episode shows yet again love in all its forms.
While this romantic scene is playing out, it is also switching to the crew frequently. Izzy singing, without any judgement. Because he is one of them too. This is their family. They can just have a party just because they want one.
It's celebrating love in all it's forms.
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somebody-got-murdered · 6 months
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Ok listen, I hope no one's mentioned this yet, but I've been thinking there was something odd about the kiss in 2x06 since I first saw it, and I've just figured it out: The kiss is mirrored.
The short sleeve on Ed's jacket is on the right, and I checked back to see if he was just being subtly silly and switching it up for Calypso's birthday, but no.
When Stede grabs Ed in the doorway, the short sleeve is on the right like normal:
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And then during the kiss, the short sleeve is on the left arm:
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Now, was this a choice or did they just think the shot looked better mirrored when they were cleaning it up in post? I can't say for sure, but I'd like to think it was a conscious choice.
The horizontal flip lends a really nice cinematographic effect to this scene here. Mirror images in general can be unsettling when you aren’t expecting an image to be mirrored, even on a subconscious level. It gives a subtle visual representation of the fact that this moment happening right now, no matter how consensual and mutually enjoyable, is a little bit whack. It's not the right moment, they have not worked out everything they need to work out and they are both intensely vulnerable.
But emotions are running high, Stede has just betrayed the defining feature of his morality for Edward. If the defining feature of who he is is that he doesn't kill in cold blood, he has just demonstrated to himself, Ed, and the entire crew that Ed is more important to him than his own moral code. He must not even know who he is in that moment except that he's the man who loves Edward Teach. How simultaneously tortured and enraptured he must be. So it's gonna happen, even if it's all backwards, and we get to see that play out visually which I really like.
There's also an element of role reversal in the sense that Stede made the choice to kill when Edward wouldn't. Ed wasn't trying to outsource the big job on Ned, he was saying we don't need to do the big job, please don't do it, and Stede did it anyway. Stede is the real pirate in that moment. He made a choice to kill when he didn't have to. He broke the rules. He broke his own cardinal rule, and it's going to fundamentally change the way he views the world and the way the world views him, and the godforsaken scene is mirrored. Regardless of whether this was intentional or not, I am losing my mind
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idolo-mantis · 6 months
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they play the same musical cue in s2e6 after stede kills ned as they do in s1e9 after ed shaves his beard and frankly the implications of that are destroying me a little
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itswhatyougive · 6 months
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Izzy, to Frenchie: It is not your place to tell me what does and does not make sense. It is your job to f-f--(choked sob) to follow my fucking orders....!
Frenchie: (holds his hand while he cries)
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clairebearsparkles · 6 months
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Colors in shows and such mean EVERYTHING to me so I'd like to point out how in season 1 Stede's "I'm being a pirate captain" outfit is this very elaborate teal blue outfit, and in season 2 Stede's "I'm a famous pirate now" look is in a dark teal blue top, it's like a more realistic gruffer version of what he was trying to be in the first season. It's Stede but in a darker light.
Meanwhile Ed has traded out all black for a white, but still dirty, ensemble that shows how much he's changed and how much change he wants. Stede's motivations are still the same from episode 1, so he's wearing the same colors but the slight change shows his progress in that goal, but Ed's change shows his entire motivation flip.
It's so good I love it.
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pepperandsaltbeard · 6 months
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It's so important to me that in this scene,
Ed genuinely wants to protect Stede from the emotional trauma he had been through.
because in a lot of heteronormative relationships in media, the way guys protect girls always seems...very patronizing for some reason.
here, Ed's not actively holding back stede from making a choice, he's giving stede A Choice
Eventhough he disapproves of him killing Ned, ultimately, he respects Stede's choice
He's only Saying that Stede doesn't have to kill Ned, and not Telling Stede, there's a huge difference. He knows what killing did to fuck him up emotionally but he doesn't automatically assume that that would be what Stede would experience after this
And I guess that's why Ed protecting Stede throughout the series doesn't make me feel uncomfy, it's because he sees and respects Stede as a fellow person, a fellow human and not subjecting him to something that needs to be "protected"
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our-flag-means-love · 2 years
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one of my favorite things about the "stab me" scene is the fact that ed was 100% bluffing because that's not how muzzle-loading guns work.
like okay maybe another "bending the laws of reality" argument can be made here, but it's established in episode 1 that gunpowder in a muzzle-loader is canonically affected by gravity (by pete tilting it down towards himself to look at it and gunpowder falling out), and it's established in episode 8 by jackie that this kind of pistol takes "a minute" to reload (historically more like 15 seconds for someone with practice but same idea).
so basically ed pulls out an obviously unloaded flintlock pistol, because it was clearly facing downwards in its holster, and he's fully banking on the fact that stede just won't know how guns work and will fall for it, and of course he fuckin totally does
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jaysmentalspace · 2 years
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Stede "I deserve bad things" Bonnet
And
Edward "I am a bad thing" Teach.
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Ed’s journey this season is going to perfectly mirror addiction and recovery, and I am so fucking here for it. Watching these first three episodes of S2 was like watching a highly dramatized AU of my own descent into rock bottom (except everyone was dressed wayyyyyy cooler than I ever was), so I have a lot of thoughts, reactions, and insights that I want to share with other fans. I’m sure many of us who have struggled with our mental health connected with Ed in these episodes, but I think addiction is the most appropriate lens through which to view him because addicts (more often than people who struggle with other mental illnesses) so wholly destroy their own lives and utterly devastate those of their loved ones. I want to share - from the perspective of someone who has steered her own ship straight into a storm and woke up alone to face some very hard choices - what is going on with Ed at the start of this season and what I think is coming.
Let me start by saying that Ed isn’t literally addicted to any one thing, despite his heavy use of drugs and alcohol, but his goal is the same as that of all addicts: escape. He does not want to sit with the pain of Stede leaving him on an immediate, surface level; on a deeper, more habitual level, he doesn’t want to sit with the pain of his own self-loathing. Of course the two are related: the former brings the latter to a head. Stede abandoning him dredges up and brightly illuminates all of his insecurities, and now Ed has to run. Get out. Escape. Don’t think about it. So he is fighting, stealing, drinking, snorting, shooting, killing - whatever it takes to not think about it.
“Demon? I’m the fuckin’ devil.” People in recovery often talk about addiction as if it were a separate, sentient monster living within them. Ed taking on the mantle of demon - a creature known specifically for possession, for removing the host’s free will - is intentional. So is his insistence that he’s not just any demon but the demon. The worst there is. (More on that when we get to The Innkeeper.)
Izzy’s confrontation of Ed in the captain’s cabin and then on deck is a form of intervention. Izzy is trying to help Ed, but of course this goes terribly for him and for Ed because interventions (I cannot stress this enough) are maybe the worst thing you could do to an addict. All addicts know things are bad, but they cannot be pushed to change one single second before they’re ready. Ed knows things are bad. He’s well-aware of how he’s spending his time, how his crew feels about him, how disappointed Izzy is. Being confronted with all of those truths by Izzy was always only going to make him do two things: 1) dig further into his unhealthy coping mechanisms, never mind that they don’t have nearly the effect that they used to; and 2) lash out at the person who forced him to think about it. Izzy lost his leg the moment he stepped into Ed’s cabin.
The impossible bird. You guys remember the song Chandelier by Sia? The one about her addiction to alcohol? The whole thing may as well come right out of Ed’s mouth at the end of that first episode, because that experience is exactly what he’s trying to convey to Frenchie. Nevermind that Frenchie has the temerity to tell him the bird can’t exist, that it has to come down sometime, that flying forever isn’t sustainable. The bird can come down on its own terms, or crash… but Frenchie’s definitely not going to say that much. Still, “that sounds like something that can’t exist” hits Ed, and leads us to the next episode.
Now we’ve got Ed forlorn, heartbroken, almost catatonic while playing with his cake toppers. We don’t actually see him crying in the opening of the episode, which is the point. He’s done crying now. The impossible bird can’t exist, and Ed has already resigned himself to this. He’s decided to die. The only sure-fire permanent way to not think about it.
When next we see Ed, he seems to be doing better, but this is a huge red flag for anyone who knows to look. He’s giving away his responsibility to Frenchie; he’s cleaning the cabin for the closure. He knows the end is coming fast, and the relief that knowledge brings him leaves him weirdly at peace. It is he eeriest part of these episodes, IMO.
Then he goes to find his first mate, the person who knows him better than anyone else in the world, the man he just fucking shot and ordered killed. Ed needs his low opinion of himself validated, and of course he thinks he’ll get it from Izzy after everything he’s done to him. He wants the one person who has stuck with him through everything to confirm that he’s now irretrievably broken and no longer worthy of his love. Ed wants someone to tell him that he’s right: he should die.
He doesn’t get that from Izzy. Interestingly, Izzy doesn’t tell him he should die. He says “Clean up your own mess.” Izzy has learned the lesson now that Ed isn’t ready to get better and that he can’t make him be ready. (This post isn’t about Izzy, but hoo boy - I have big feels about that man.)
Ed has been indulging in various forms of self-destruction in order to not feel his feelings, and steering the ship into the storm is his worst indulgence yet. This is the worst of his crimes - not beheading or arson or a red wedding. It’s when he tries to bring down everyone who has ever loved him into his misery, into believing what he believes. The audience generally (and Ed’s audience of Stede specifically) can forgive him for hurting strangers and for the non-specific mayhem whose victims we’ve never met; but it is much less certain that anyone will forgive him for hurting the only family he’s ever known.
The storm itself is the perfect metaphor for Ed’s attempt on his and, incidentally, everyone else’s lives. One of the most common metaphors used by friends and family members of addicts is that of a hurricane: that their addicted loved-ones tend to destroy everything they touch, anyone who was foolish or brave enough to stick around. And, like hurricanes, addicts aren’t malicious. Ed’s primary goal here is to get himself killed, not to kill everyone else. He wants the ship to go down so his death is certain. His firing a cannonball into the mast and asking Jim and Archie to fight to the death isn’t malice: it’s utter and complete nihilism. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing and no one. The end is near, and he’s so fucking drunk and high off these distractions that he couldn’t think about it if he tried. He’s manic with relief. (See also: “Finally.”)
And now for the finale: Purgatory. Buckle up, because this is where the addiction analogy gets real *chef’s kiss.* Purgatory is the equivalent of the morning after the worst, most rock bottom binge night of your life. You wake up with no one for company but the ghosts of your former selves. Now what?
Well, first - who is Hornigold to Ed? Why is he the guy Ed sees? It’s because Hornigold is another addict, if you will, but one who is (in this Purgatory hallucination) farther along in his recovery. He can impart some wisdom from that place, but he can also stand in as someone Ed can loathe because they’re not as different as Ed once thought, even if Hornigold can say he’s grown.
Hornigold tries to give him soup. He tells Ed, “Gotta get these nutrients into you,” and then literally shoves soup down his throat. That’s what it’s like in rock bottom. You don’t want to take care of yourself, but some lizard brain survival instinct takes over and makes you drink water, eat a piece of fruit, take yourself to the hospital. These things don’t really happen voluntarily that morning after, but you can still count on that instinct to kick in with some damage control.
Ed telling Hornigold how he “got here.” Hornigold says “Mutiny. It’s always mutiny.” Ed insists his mutiny was special, worse somehow. This whole scene is exactly what happens in your first recovery support group meeting. You go in thinking no one has ever been as fucked and fucked up as you are, which makes you feel isolated and alone. But then you get there and everyone else in the circle has done the same shit, been through the same shit. Ed’s not actually the devil; he’s just another demon, like many demons before him.
Ed worries he’s insane when he reflects on everything he’s done. Hornigold’s reply that “Feeling bad isn’t going to rebuild an abdominal wall” is a concept that people usually learn a little bit later in recovery, so I expect we’ll see more on this theme from Ed. Guilt is a useless emotion that only serves to conversely make the addict feel better but doesn’t help the harmed party: the addict feels like their suffering is cleansing, but it’s not - feeling guilt is just more self-indulgence, more self-destruction. Hornigold - a fellow addict in this moment - is trying to get this lesson to him early. It’ll return.
“You’ve got to move on or blow your brains out.” We’re getting back to Purgatory as the metaphor for the morning-after rock bottom, because this is the exact calculation that every person in recovery has done. They all had to answer that one big question. Your whole life is a mess, and you made the mess. Do you want to clean it up? Or quit? (Or make some soup? Yeah. That big question can’t be answered without basic needs having been met. So let’s eat. Let’s start there. It’s easier.)
Now we have Ed’s fantasy about opening an inn: This is also a common part of the morning-after rock bottom. You start thinking about the wrong turns you took, the mistakes you made, the way your life was supposed to go and all the reasons you’re not where you wanted to be. (And all the people you can blame for the fact that your life didn’t go as planned.) And when that honest part of yourself starts telling you that actually it’s all your fault… well, a) you don’t wanna hear it, and b) you can’t silence (kill) that monster, no matter how hard you try. You’ve got to face it. Face all those truths you’ve been running from for years. Now you have to think about it.
So now the big question, the inevitable math. Hornigold suggests looking at the pros and the cons. That’s the easiest way to break the calculation into manageable variables. This is probably my favorite moment of the episode, because when you’re sitting there, morning after the worst night of your life, everything is fucked - these are the exact variables that go into your equation. Do I really want to live? You ask yourself that, and because your life is in fucking shambles, you come up with the stupidest goddamn reasons to keep going. You wanna see the next seasons of Good Omens and Loki. You wanna eat your mom’s spaghetti again. Sometimes it’s nice when someone hugs you. It’s never the big things that save your life; it’s a bunch of the littlest things. The smallest comforts. The big things… they’re too unattainable. They’re too much to hope for, and they’re more than you could possibly deserve. What are the pros of living for Ed? Warmth, good food, orgasms. This is a stunningly accurate representation of the things that will keep you alive once you’ve hit rock bottom.
And then the cons: “I don’t think anyone is waiting for me.” This is why addiction is the better metaphor. There is no human experience more isolating than addiction. You are alone in more ways than you’ve ever been before. You have pushed away or pissed off everyone who ever cared about you. And even the ones who will maybe still be there for you - they can’t help you clean up the mess you’ve made. You have to do the work alone, even if they’re still willing to stand next to you. And this con… it’s the scariest one. Your list of little pros looks so pathetic next to the horror of being utterly fucking alone. Who is going to brave that for some stupid shit like Tom Hiddleston sexily flipping his hair back in that Loki way he does? Why should Ed carry on just because blankets are cozy and marmalade is pleasant?
This is where we get to the moment on the mountain, and what Stede represents. Hornigold tells Ed “You’re unlovable, and you’re afraid to do anything about it.” Ed could do two things about being unlovable: He could try to fix it, or he could end it all. Hornigold represents the worst part of Ed: his weaknesses and cowardice. And if Hornigold is in the driver’s seat, he’s going to end it all. He throws the rock off the cliff, and Ed gets dragged down into the water to drown. (Let’s also talk later about how often addiction is compared to drowning, and how nothing else in the show actually threatened Ed’s life - not Izzy with a gun, not all the rhino horn, not Jim’s cannonball - like drowning in his own mind.)
But then there’s Stede. Stede is how the pros win over that one big, horrifying con. Stede is hope. Stede is just a glimmer of hope. Hope is the most important thing you need in the morning-after rock bottom. As much as I enjoy the idea that it was love that saved Ed, I don’t think that’s a wholly faithful interpretation. Because Stede’s love for Ed doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t fix anything - it certainly doesn’t fix Ed. It cannot fix Ed. Hornigold just told Ed that he’s the one who has to “do something about it,” because Ed is the only one who can save himself. But even if Stede’s love for him in itself isn’t what saves Ed, Ed’s trust in Stede combined with that love gives him hope. Stede loves Ed, truly loves him, came back to him even though he knows Ed’s nature, knows his list of crimes, knows what he’s done to Stede’s friends and family. And maybe Ed can find in himself what he trusts Stede truly sees. It’s a “maybe,” not a certainty. But it’s hope. Someone loves him. Maybe he can love himself, too.
This Woman’s Work: I read this song as referring more appropriately to Ed’s relationship with himself, in no small part because Ed literally made himself the woman in the cake topper couple. All the things that should have been done, should have been said - they’re things Ed needs to do and say to himself. He’s got a little life and a lot of strength left. The journey has just begun.
I want to pop back quickly to a few other moments in The Innkeeper that resonated, starting with Stede and Izzy’s discussion about what happened to Ed: “He went mad. He was a wild dog.” Izzy describes Ed’s breakdown as if he was no longer the same person he once was; this is exactly what addiction does to a person. Ed hasn’t been himself; he’s been held hostage by his need for escape, and he’s become something else. Possessed, if you will.
Izzy: “You and me did this to him, and we can’t let the crew suffer any more for our mistakes.” I’m not writing an essay on Izzy (yet), but this is a very interesting perspective that says a lot about Izzy. Stede and Izzy both owe apologies to Ed, but they are not responsible for his actions. I predict we’re going to see this theme explored in later episodes as a part of Ed’s healing process and recovery. And also hopefully in Izzy’s growth.
Frenchie’s line that “We’ve been living second-to-second for a while now” is a callback to the impossible bird idea. Which, again, is just Chandelier x Sia. “I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down, won’t open my eyes, keep my glass full until morning light ‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight.”
So what’s next? For me, it was learning to sit alone in a quiet room with my thoughts. It was apologizing to the ones I hurt, because even if I didn’t mean to hurt them - even if I was suffering also and worse - they still got hurt, and in the end it didn’t matter why. It was developing the habit of liking myself, and acting on whatever self-love and affection I could conjure up. And yes… it was new seasons of Good Omens and Loki, my mom’s spaghetti, and hugs.
So I think Ed has a lot of accountability, reflection, and breaking of old habits in his future… but also warmth, good food, and orgasms. And good for him. That’s the beauty of recovery: we get to come back.
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