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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 5 months ago

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**Masterlist**

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Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: 'The only thing that's left is the manuscript. One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I reread the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore.'

A/N: I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack.

Content Warning: Mentions of injury, illness, death and difficulties with food. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. NOR DO I CLAIM THE PROPERTY OF TAYLOR SWIFT'S MUSIC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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"You've got to speak from the heart, Izzy. Think about the things that make you appreciate, y/n and just say it to them. Like, what is it soecifically thst mskes you enjoy having them around? It doesn't have to be anything complicated. Hell, you could just comment on their smile. Maybe their laugh. Or how they make your life just that bit easier each day. Something nice like that. I really do think you're overthinking things. Y/N is clearly besotted with you. Whatever you say, they'll appreciate it." but that was easy for the gentleman pirate to say. The man never shut the fuck up. He probably babbled love confessions morning, noon and night- without even giving his word a second thought. Stede fucking Bonnet was a vacuous vessel, who made- in Izzy's opinion- too much noise. Except, he must have been doing something right, no? He had so easily won the heart of the man, that Izzy had pined after for absolute decades. Perhaps the blonde co-captain was indeed correct in his advice?

Leaning again the doorway to his shared quarters, the First Mate watched you with an gaze of pure fondness. You truly had made him soft and the silver-haired pirate did not care one jot. Watching you lean against the window sill, searching the streets below with your curious stare and resting your feet in Fang's lap, as you chattered away about who knows what. Izzy was not so much focused on your words, as he was your lips.

Those lips, that spoke the sweetest truths. He wondered if they would taste just as saccarine? Unfortunately, his carnally driven thoughts were interrupted by his noticing of how chapped they were. Reluctantly, he tore his attention away from your desirable features and averted his gaze towards the jug of water he had left for you only hours prior. The liquid remained untouched. No doubt Fang would have attempted to coax you into having a sip but judging by the changing of your clothes and the proximity of the sicl bucket, you had not managed to keep anything down.

This was bad. Izzy may have not been a doctor but he had seen enough pirates succumb to the effects of dehydration. Had you at least been able to eat some of the snacks he had left in his absence? The orange- though peeled- was only missing a few segments. The same could be noted about the bread and cheese. You could only sustain this pattern of eating for so long, before your health declined further. The thought sent a flare of dread through the First Mate.

It was his job to keep the ship and it's crew afloat, when the interests of the Captain waned or attention directed elsewhere. That included keeping everyone well and alive. Yet, so far, Izzy felt as if he were failing that duty. Pete and Frenchie were recovering from far worser ailments just fine. So, why were you not doing the same? The silver-haired pirate could feel his mind spiralling, as it dawned on him just how fragile you were.

Even if you survived this vicious infection- and as of that moment, it was a big 'if'- there was no guarantee that the life of piracy would be kind to you. Izzy had seen many a competant sailor fall foul of the seven seas and all her perils. From raids gone wrong to something as simple as scurvy- your life would be constantly at risk. How on earth could the First Mate even muster up a plan on how to protect you, when the world and her occupants, were so unpredictable? He could hardly stay by your side every waking minute and yet, look at what had happened when he had left your charge for but a moment!

It was all too much for him. The pirate was all but ready to flee and renounce any affection he held for you, in a bide to preserve his sanity, when the gentle call of his name, caught the stressed man's attention. Looking in your direction, there they were again. Those lips. This time, pulled into a beaming smile, reserved only for him and him alone.

All and any worries the First Mate may have held for the situation easily melted away, like snow on a beach. Of course, he was still concerned for your general health but the fear of losing you in the future was temporarily put on hold, as his focus returned to the here and now. What if scenarios of rogue blades and gunshots could wait, Izzy needed to put all of his efforts into getting you better first. "I thought I told you to drink yer water and eat yer food?" he muttered, crossing the threshold.

To the average bystander, his tone and body language would have screamed confrontational but you knew the pirate better than most. Behind the bossy, antagonistic First Mate persona, was a man entrenched in worry and fear. You almost felt guilty for causing him such stress but the roll of nausea, that ran through your body at the thought of eating another orange slice, had you forgetting such emotionally driven remorse.

"They couldn't keep it down, Iz. Trust me, they tried their best." Fang instantly leapt to your defence and although it was not necessary, you were grateful for his intervention.

Fang was loyal to his core but he was no liar- Izzy thought, as he ruminated over the man's words. No doubt you had attempted to follow orders, only to have your treacherous body betray you in favour of whatever it was, that dared continue to plague you.

You had always liked the other pirate. Though he had sailed with Blackbeard for almost as long as Izzy, he had retained a genteel quality, that made him instantly likeable. During your first few months upon the Revenge, Fang had taken you under his wing. Though it was Oluwande and Jim who had taught you the skills of piracy by day. By night, it had been Fang, who had comforted you during those times of self-doubt. During those moments where you regretted Izzy saving you from the brink of complete ruin, the other man had been by your side, to remind you of your worth and skill.

But as much as you loved your friend and fellow pirate, you needed to placate the worries of the one whom had captured your heart. "Can you give us a minute, Fang?" you smiled at him, as yoi carefully extracated your feet from his lap.

Taking the hint, the man smiled warmly at you and nodded in understanding. "Of course." though neither you or Izzy had explicitly labelled or announced your coupling to the rest of the crew, it was evident that you were an item. Fang was glad to see that you both had finally stopped secretly pining for one another. He also had a very handsome amount of cash to collect from his fellow gamblers. The pool for which month you and Izzy would confess your feelings for one another, had amassed a very generous winning prize and the pirate intended to enjoy every last penny of it. He was going to head straight to Spanish Jackie's tavern! "See you later, Iz."

Once alone, you dared to rise up from your seat and on unstable legs, makd your way on over to the sullen First Mate. Despite his grumpy disposition, he could hardly stand there and watch you struggle towards him. Ever the gentleman-

you had promised not to tell your fellow crewmates- Izzy crossed the room, arms outstretched to help catch you, when you stumbled slightly.

"Hey." you grinned at the pirate sheepishly, when he helped guide you onto the bed.

"Hello." he responded curtly, cringing at how devoid of warmth his tone was and yet, he could not force himself to correct his flat inflection. Izzy was far more preoccupied with your worsening health.

You sighed gratefully, as you laid back against the plump pillows. You had been sat up in the chair for so long, your muscles were now screaming in protest at the over exertion. "Penny for your thoughts?" you quipped, hoping your playfulness would succeed in lightening the somber mood.

'He said, "I'm not a donor but

I'd give you my heart if you needed it"'

"You're not getting better."

His statement made your blood run cold. There was no lie you could feed the pirate, that would appease his concerns. "I'm not getting worse though, right?" your grin widened but quickly slipped into a frown, when he regarded you with a look fo irritation. "Iz?"

"I...I need..." come on, man! Say it! Izzy cursed himself for being so inept with words. Sentimental divulsions had never been his strong suit. He much preferred to utilise the vulgar language that ensured a job was done well by crewmates but with you, he felt more tongue-tied than evwr before. He longed to tell you the never-ending list of reasons why he needed you to witness many more sunrises, not just the few you now seemed doomed to survive. "Fuck, you need to get better." the pirate stated plainly, disappointed at the simplicity of his admission.

The wry smile that had him staring at your lips once more, felt like a knife to his chest. You had promised to be patient with him and you werw yet to break that vow but gods, did you deserve more. "I think we've established that already, my love. Oh-" and at the use of your nickname for him, your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. All and any of the tense atmosphere caused by the discussion of your health, dissipated in an instant. The mischievious gleam in your beloved's eyes was a guarantee that, he was not going to allow you to forget the conversation any time soon. "shit, sorry. That just. Haha. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud." you stammer, giggling and blushing. Gods, you felt such a fool.

'She rolled her eyes and said

"You're a professional."'

Hiding you face behind your hands, you wished for the bed to swallow you whole. Yet, Izzy was outwardly appeared completely unphased by your nickname for him. Internally, his heart was running laps, cheering and somersaulting in utter, unbridled glee. "How do you usually say it?" he asked cooly, as he carefully extracted your hands from your face. He wanted to see you, enjoy every moment commiting your face to memory- that included your beetroot red cheeks and avoidant gaze.

"In my head." you mumbled, wondering where he was going with this.

The pirate leaned in close, close enough that you could feel his warm breath tickle the sensitive skin of your neck. "Give me an example." he whispered, causing a shiver to run through you. If you had been at peak health, oh my, the things you would have done to that man there and then.

"I'd wait until the end of time for you...my love."

"Tell me another one."

"I need you like I need oxygen, my love."

'He said, "No, just a good samaritan."'

Gods, he would bleed for you, he thought. He would kill and maim for you. Hell, he would capture the stars and the fucking moon, if you so wished it. The man was besotted with you. Utterly obsessed. "This is why." Izzy murmured, the sentence cracking as he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the fear of losing you so prematurely. For someone so composed and toughened by a life of piracy, it surprised the silver-haired First Mate, just how quickly you had broken down his defenses.

"Why, what?" you questioned, noticing the misty sheen of unshed tears, reflected back at you, in his watery gaze. Tentatively, you reached for his hand, taking it in your own, to cradle it against your chest.

'He said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers.'

"This is fucking why I need you to get better. That. Right there." he stated, signifying to your entwined fingers. "I..." just say it, he urged hinself. The Gentleman Pirate's advice at the forefront of his mind. Kicking and screaming at him to stop being so lily-livered and just say the damn words! Do it, man, do it already! Cease your hesitation and just tell them how much they mean to you, damn it! Izzy bottled out of voicing his confession, already too much of a nervous wreck to follow through with his wants and desires. "Just...keep fighting off this infection. Beat the fucker." he all but snarled, a flash of anger and remorse dancing across his ocean eyes. A rage directed at the virus, whom dared threaten yoyr wellbeing and a call for repentance, prompted by his helplessness. The First Mate would make a deal with God, if it called for your immediate recovery. "Don't give in yet." he murmured, as his lips brushed a chaste kiss to your temple.

You adored the simple gesture, almost keening at the contact. As much as you fantasised about those lips indulging in far more sinful acts, you most enjoyed his innocent gesture of affection. Where words failed him, the kiss spoke volumes. You could practically feel his desperation. "I won't. I promise." the whispered vow hung in the atmosphere between you both, as you remained locked in the gentle embrace. His arms anchoring you to him. There was no other place you would rather be.

There was no other place Izzy would rather you were. When he spoke, it was in a hushed tone. Whispered directly to you. Almost so low, you nearly missed his yearning request. "Say it, one more time?" he all but begged. Could it be that you had turned the frightful Israel Hands- dare you say- soft?

But oh, how could you deny him, when he asked so nicely? "My love."

'But soon it was over.'

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fictionaddictcosplay · 11 months ago

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Christmas fanfic

It all started, as Ed remembered well, during summer.

They were dating for a few months. They already had a few highs and lows, but they managed to make things work. They were walking hand in hand in the streets of Paris, not far from the cathedral, and it was… So fucking hot. Yet it was not Ed’s first summer in France, but really, he could not get used to it. It would have been bearable by the sea, but Paris was suffocating.

“I’m so glad we��re here! Paris is truly the most wonderful city in the world, don’t you think my dear?”

Ed couldn’t hold a smile. Stede was so… So Stede, and he would never want him otherwise.

“Tis’ a wonderful city. Especially in August. The lack of Parisians is so delightful, nearly enough to compensate the climate.”

“Oh, Ed! You don’t have to act like a misanthropic adventurer with me, keep this for your vlogs and just admit that you love it.”

Stede’s voice pretended to be properly indignated, but he had this lovely grin and that sparkle in the eye meaning he was teasing Ed, and happy to do so. Ed loved it so much. He replied with a frantic laugh:

“It is not misanthropic to say that Parisians are the most insufferable people on Earth, it is a fact. You can ask any French person.”

They were about to joyfully argue more, when a someone yelled from the other side of the street:

“Eddie!”

Ed blinked several times. Yes, it was indeed…

“Ann! What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a new armoire for the antique shop, obviously! Oh Mary will be thrilled to know I saw you...”

She ran towards them as she was chatting. Her very long hair, brown and wavy, seemed to flow from a gigantic hat. She wore a maxi green dress with several ruffles and frills, imitating silk – quite a good imitation. The décolletage was, as always, quite revealing. She said once to Ed, drunk, that she had made her spider tattoo in order to have a pretext to show her boobs to everyone. That was the one and only reason. Ed had no difficulties to believe it. He was quite drunk himself and replied that he was so scared of spiders, even a tattoo would frighten him, and maybe this was the reason he was gay, the view of her boobs traumatized him for ever… God. They were so young. And stupid.

Those were good times, and he remembered them with a smile, but there was no doubt: even if he had a chance, he would never want to be young again. He was much happier in his forties than he ever was in his twenties.

“And this is Stede! How come you never introduced him? You must visit us next time you’re passing by, Mary will make dinner! But Eddie, you haven’t even told me, what are YOU doing in Paris?”

“Romantic holidays.”

“Of course, what was I thinking? It would not be for business, obviously!”

It was obvious indeed. Ed had found a way to exist in the crowded, rapacious world of travelling Youtube channels by going to the farest and most dangerous places in the world. Sometimes with Izzy, but mostly on his own, with good shoes, salt-and-pepper hair tied in a bun and a book of poetry, in the wild. That was his brand. It was not an easy life, but it suited him much better than all the others careers he had before. He liked it a lot – at least, in the beginning.

They chatted with Ann for a few more minutes before parting ways. They were approaching the Pont Neuf, and Stede stopped to look at the water. Ed embraced him, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You okay?”

“Of course. Just wondering… Will it work? I mean… What you are doing is special, what I want to do is not. Who will care about another travelling channel with an American in Paris? There are thousands of them already!”

“Hey. First, I care. Second, do you think that when I started, people cared about a grumpy New-Zealander in the Highlands?”

“You know what I mean. Your channel is unique.”

“Of course there are thousands of travelling channels full of Americans in Paris. But none of them has all the bitchy comments of Lucius. I was only on set for the wrap day and he cracked me every time. Your techies are good as well, especially Jim. And there’s you. I can swear that there is no one, and I mean, absolutely no one in the world, who would eat a quiche with mushrooms and think that they are snails. This is good TV. Good Youtube. Good everything. You can do it.”

“Thanks. And thanks for coming here with me. And for insisting to turn the cameras off for the weekend, I needed it.”

“Sure.”

Stede could be quite insecure at times. They kissed before heading back to their hotel. Ed told all the stories he could remember about Ann, Mary and himself in their youth, and Stede was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“We should definitely visit them next time we’re in… Where do they live?”

“Thailand. In the kind of place that French people call le trou du cul du monde.”

“This is such a poetic language!”

“Right.”

Ed was raised with two languages and could speak fluently three more. Stede, who spoke only English, admired it deeply.

“She had a lovely dress. Not proper vintage, but really beautiful.” Stede said.

“Agreed.”

“It must be cooler than pants, by this weather.”

“Sure. You could try one on, if you want.”

“What?”

“I have a similar dress. Not here, of course, at home. You know, from the time I was a fashion designer.”

“Oh, I always forget about this one. Was it before or after the restaurant?”

“Before. After the restaurant, I was a mechanic.”

“Of course.”

Stede had this concentrated look, so concerned to learn everything he could about Ed, never judgmental. It felt so good. Ed liked to boast and say he could do anything, and he was actually proud of it, but it was not completely true. He could do anything, as long as it did not imply talking to people too much. No matter how hard he tried, he was not a people person, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Even to Stede.

Stede. Right. He was in Paris with Stede for a romantic trip, not for spiraling.

“Anyways. Do you want to try this dress on once we get home?”

“Of course not!”

“Why not? Even if New-York is not as hot as Paris, it will still be Summer.”

“People will stare.”

“What people? I thought it would be just the two of us, you know. Like the time we exchanged clothes.”

“Oh. Right. But still. No.”

Ed looked at Stede.

Even now, he could remember the feeling. It was the precise moment when he felt that the atmosphere changed and that Stede was… Hesitant. Insecure. Something was not right. Stede was always up for anything and everything, it was a constant in their relationship. They both loved fashion and dressing up, especially with each other’s clothes. Stede refusing so firmly seemed very out of character.

“Okay.” Ed said softly.

“It’s not… because of you, or the dress, you know” Stede replied, almost with guilt. “But… Have you watched the movie Danish Girl? The main character realizes that she’s a trans woman when she tries a dress on. And I don’t want this to happen to me.”

Of course, Ed reassured Stede, told him it was fine, no problem at all. They both had several closets full of clothes to exchange and have fun with. They made back to their hotel, finished their holidays, and Ed didn’t think anymore about this odd conversation for a while.

But then he started to notice the small things. How Stede was smiling when Lucius called him “queen”. How he said “I am a happy thingie with you”, and never “I am a happy man”. How he said he didn’t like his body, except for his hair. Small things, really. Almost insignificant. But with the light of the dress conversation they had in Paris… Well, something was going on, right?

Ed sighed. Of course, something was going on, but he didn’t know how to address it. It was early December, Stede and him had been together for less than a year, and Ed could confidently say that he had never been with anyone remotely like Stede. He felt like he lacked experience.

Stede always said that he was the one lacking experience. He had been married for fifteen years to a woman and spent almost his whole life in the closet. Ed was his first man, but also his first love and his first real relationship.

Ed, on the other hand, had a lot of experiences and relationships. He had spent half of his youth and adult life hooking up with men, and the other half in unsatisfying and more or less toxic relationships. Stede knew about CJ, he even met him once, did not go well. And Izzy… God, Izzy. Ed hadn’t even tried to explain Izzy to Stede, because he was not quite sure himself of what they were. Or what they used to be. Izzy probably didn’t know either. Stede was very patient about that and never asked questions, even though he probably guessed a few things. Stede was amazing, too good to be true. Even a year after their first encounter, Ed felt like he didn’t deserve him. It was, by far, the healthiest relationship he ever had, and sometimes, he didn’t even know how to navigate it. What was he supposed to do?

It was not only a relationship matter, it was also a gender matter, and Ed didn’t feel qualified enough. He was not a part from this community and didn’t know anyone who was. He needed advice.

Who could he talk to about this? He was not that close to Mary and Ann anymore, and they were not very healthy people. His only friend was Izzy, and he would not talk to Izzy about Stede. Not in a million years.

Wait. Stede had friends. Maybe one of them would have an advice. Not Lucius, too chatty, he needed someone discreet. Nathaniel was too weird, he’d say something like “let’s all turn into birds” and it would not help. John would be too intimidating. Pete would tell Lucius… Oh, of course! Oluwande was just the guy Ed was looking for. Smart, caring, and the nicest person Ed ever met. Really, a guy you do want to ask advice from.

Alright, it was settled then. He had a few errands to do (their Christmas date was approaching, and Ed wanted more gifts), he would use this opportunity to pass by Oluwande’s place.

So he did and rang the bell. But the door didn’t open on Oluwande’s smile, as he expected: Jim was staring at him and looked quite angry. Ed knew it wasn’t personal, Jim was quite angry almost all the time. Izzy was like this as well.

“Hi. Hum, didn’t expect you here. Is Oluwande in?”

“No. He’s on a romantic weekend with Zheng. Lends me the flat so that I can have sex.”

“Oh. I thought you were dating Oluwande.”

“I am.”

Ed was getting more and more confused.

“What are you here for?” Jim asked, out of patience.

“I needed an advice, but if you’re busy...”

“I’m not. Archie cancelled last minute, she’s meeting with a guy from her former snake cult. Come in.”

Jim led him to a small living-room and served coffee, without commenting on the seven sugars. Ed did not feel very comfortable. Jim was actually really impressive. But he still needed the advice, right? After asking Jim for discretion, he explained the matter as best as he could.

Jim listened calmly and then asked:

“What kind of advice do you want here?”

“I’m not sure, mate. I don’t know anything about gender stuff. Do you think Stede might be trans?”

Jim laughed.

“I don’t thing he might, I know he is. Afraid of wearing a dress because he thinks it would magically make him a trans woman? This is literally the transiest trans shit I’ve ever heard and I’ve been on this scene for a while.”

“I’m not sure to understand.”

“Well he’s not a very conservative Republican. He knows that you can wear a dress and still be a man.”

“Of course. And he has seen me wear skirts several times. I am still a man while I do it.”

“Exactly. If he thinks that wearing a dress would be enough for his sense of masculinity to vanish… It means that it was probably not a very strong sense in the first place. Clothes are not magical wands changing your gender on their own. Your gender feelings come from yourself.”

Ed nodded pensively.

“It makes sense. So, what do you think I should do?”

“Nothing. Gender is a very, very personal thing. I told you what I thought, but even I can be wrong, the only person able to know Stede’s gender is Stede. If he’s not comfortable wearing a dress or doing things considered as feminine because of what it could awake in him, we are bound to respect that. The only thing you can do is tell him that trans people exist and that it is possible if he doesn’t know...”

“He does know.”

“Well then. Let him walk on his own path and discover new things about himself, or not. You can be there to support him, but you can’t walk for him. D’you see what I mean?”

“I think I do.”

“Tell him that you’ll be there, no matter what. Tell him that you think he’s beautiful – not handsome, not pretty, beautiful. Apart from that… As would say a great man, you need to wait and see.”

Ed smiled.

“Thanks a lot. ‘Tis good advice.”

“I surely hope so! Why did you want to ask Olu instead of an actual trans person?”

“Olu seems like a nice g… Wait. Are you trans?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Ed’s astonished face answered for him and Jim burst into laughter.

“Come on! We’ve met several times, everyone refers to me as “they”, you never noticed?”

“Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“But the mullet? And the bag with trans flag colours?”

Ed felt more confused than ever – what had a mullet to do with anything? Jim laughed again.

“I can lend you a few books about trans issues and culture. I’m pretty sure there are some things you can learn!”

Ed came home with a pile of books and some chocolates, “they’re fair trade, from a queer cooperative I know”. He started to read this very evening. All of this was very interesting, and confirmed what Jim had said: ultimately, it was Stede’s own path.

A few weeks passed, or rather fled. Ed was very busy with uploading the last videos on his channel, buying gifts (no matter how hard he tried to make lists, he always forgot one and needed to go back shopping, only to discover once home that he forgot another one). Their Christmas date was approaching, they chose the date of 23th of December because Stede spent Christmas Eve with his children.

It was their first Christmas date, so everything needed to be perfect. Ed spent hours to elaborate a menu, do groceries, make decorations and plan his outfit. He was determined: this would be a date to be remembered for decades at least!

On the due date, he woke up early to finish the flat’s cleaning. Then he started to get ready. He chose a very plain, classic black shirt, to be paired with what he knew to be his most dashing winter skirt. Stede didn’t see it yet, and Ed was excited to show him. It was a vintage emerald skirt, floor-length, all in velvet, closed by its original leather-covered button.

Stede arrived an hour later, wearing skinny grey pants and a white frilly shirt, holding a bottle of wine. When Ed opened the door, Stede looked at him, with an amazed expression in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he didn’t seem to know what and close it again. He was so lovely… Ed couldn’t help but tease him.

“You won’t even hug me?”

“Oh, sorry! I’m… You… You look great.”

He leaned for a kiss, and Ed noticed that his shirt was open, unveiling his chest. Oh God. It was his punishment for teasing, he couldn’t think about anything to say, how could anyone be that gorgeous? They made out for a while, unable to stop, like teenagers.

“’m glad to have not started dinner yet” Ed said finally. “I would have let it burn.”

Stede giggled.

“I look forward to taste... your dinner.”

Ed was not the kind of guy to blush, but he did this time. Stede went on:

“You look dashing. This skirt is gorgeous.”

He passed his hands along the velvet, caressing the fabric.

“It is so soft, I love it!”

He raised his head and looked at Ed straight in the eyes:

“Do you want to do something weird?” ****

Stede’s grey pants were way too tight for Ed, but he didn’t care. All he could look to was Stede, in front of his mirror, with his frilly shirt and the velvet skirt. He embraced him from behind and looked at him in the glass:

“You are so beautiful. How do you feel?”

“Weird.”

“Weird-good or weird-bad?”

“I don’t know. I always thought… I always thought it’d be different. That I would be a different person if I had a dress or… But I feel like me. Is it weird?”

“Is it weird to feel like yourself? I don’t think so. I think it’s a good thing.”

“Do I look like a man?”

“You look like you. Do you feel like a man?”

“No. I never did.”

Stede turned towards Ed, worried.

“I’ve never said it out loud.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be a man. You can be whoever you want to be.”

Stede looked again at the mirror.

“I don’t know who I want to be.”

“It’s okay too.”

“Somehow I always imagined that it would feel feminine to wear a skirt, but it doesn’t. I don’t feel like a woman. I feel like me. Both different and the same, but completely me. I might be non-binary, like Jim.”

Ed hold him tighter and kissed him in the neck. He couldn’t believe at what he heard. Only six months had passed since Stede had refused to try a dress on in Paris… He had evolved so much!

“I love you. You are the most beautiful person in the world, no matter what your gender is.”

They kissed again. It tasted like freedom, joy and pride.

“Now that we both acknowledged that this skirt fits me much better than you, what about taking it off?” Stede whispered.

“’m all here for it. Or you could keep it on.”

“I haven’t thought about that, but I love the idea” Stede replied, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

#our flag means death #ofmd #blackbeard #stede bonnet #ed x stede #blackbeard x stede #edward x stede #ofmd spoilers #fanfic #gentlebeard #nonbinary #christmas

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