#and stede is topping down below

[serious-goose]

the crew being theatre kids up on deck while ed and stede fuck is so funny

[skepwith]

More Parts of the Revenge for OFMD Fans

Part of a series: Revenge Master Post.

This post is about stuff in the body of the ship, going more or less from top to bottom. I’m saving the sails and rigging for my next post. If you want to know more basic terms like fore and aft and bow and stern, look for “Parts of the Revenge” in my master post.

Obviously, using these terms is entirely optional, since David Jenkins et al. are free and easy with the ol' historical accuracy. This list is for pedants like me and people who like historical and specialized language. Enjoy!

Main Deck

The low “walls” on the sides of the open decks were called the bulwarks—they were to keep people from falling overboard. On the Revenge, the bulwarks are topped by a rail (railing).

A gap in the bulwark, together with a set of rungs on the hull, was called an entry port. It allowed people to climb aboard from a dinghy.

The top edge of the bulwark was the gunwale, pronounced gunnel. The expression “loaded to the gunwales” is still used to mean very full. The top edges of a dinghy are also called gunwales.

An opening in the deck is called a hatchway. I wrote about hatches a while ago, but what I didn’t realize was that the hatch is the part that covers the hatchway. The wooden grid that lets light and air through is called the grating.

In the bow, the curving rail that goes from the figurehead to the hull is called the head rail, which would’ve been really helpful to know for my toilet post. Oh well.

Stede’s journal could at a stretch be called a logbook (or log). This was a book in which an officer noted details of the ship’s daily progress and journey. Probably a bit less fanciful than Stede’s version.

Weaponry

The Revenge has guns (the word used for cannons) on her main deck and her gun deck. Before a gun was fired, the barrel was cleared with the sponge, then loaded with gunpowder and shot and wads of cloth, all of which was tamped down with the rammer. There were different types of shot, or ammunition; cannonballs were called round shot.

To fire a gun, a lit fuse (usually a slow match) was brought in contact with the vent at the top of the gun—called the touchhole—to ignite the gunpowder. (The wick added in OFMD isn’t accurate. Shocking, I know.) The slow match was usually held with a staff called a linstock, tucked into a notch on the end. You didn’t want to be right next to the cannon when it went off, because there was a non-zero chance it would misfire and explode in your face.

Despite what you see in movies, cannons didn’t produce a lot of fire and smoke; the cannonball did damage by going unstoppably through hulls, masts, and people—often many at a time—like a deadly Energizer bunny.

The gunpowder was kept in kegs in a small room called the powder magazine. (A magazine is an ammunition storage area.) This room was in the hull of the ship, below the water line, to minimize the chances of a stray spark sending the whole ship up in flames. The shot was kept in the shot-locker, a small room in the hold (though this word wasn’t recorded till 1805). As we know, Stede calls this the ball room.

Besides the regular cannons, the Revenge also has swivel guns, small cannons mounted on swivels. These were too small to damage another ship; they were there to fire at boarders and approaching boats. Or, you know, to set off fireworks.

To take an enemy ship, sailors might use a grapnel (or grappling hook). These were attached to a rope and thrown at enemy bulwarks or rigging so the ships could be pulled together for boarding.

The Gun Deck

Everything on a ship had to have a special name: stairs were always called ladders; the floor was called the deck; and a wall or partition inside the hull was called a bulkhead.

Some of you may know that a ship’s kitchen is called a galley. However, this usage wasn’t recorded until 1750; the earlier word was cook-room.

Likewise, the mess is where you eat on a ship, but this sense wasn’t recorded until the late 1800s. In OFMD’s time, mess meant “a group of people who eat together,” like officers of the same rank or sailors on the same watch.

You might know a berth as a shelf or box to sleep on, like Stede’s (and Ed’s) bed, but this usage wasn’t recorded until the 1790s. The earlier meaning, used from at least 1706, is “a room where a particular group (such as officers or midshipmen) eats and sleeps.” So you might call Jim’s room a berth—except that it changes hands, and its name has been firmly established as the Room.

A berth is also a place in a port or harbour where you can moor (park) a vessel, and thirdly, the safety margin around another vessel or object, which gives us the phrase “to give [it] a wide berth.”

Finally, the area where the animals (remember them?) were kept was a small triangular area in the bow called the manger. This seems to be where the Revenge’s en suite is, at least as far as I can figure, but if you want to include the animals for whatever reason, they’d probably live somewhere around there.

Storage

Some of the stuff on board was stored in casks, a.k.a. barrels. These could be any size, but a large cask was also called a butt. A scuttlebutt was a butt full of water attached to the deck for sailors to drink from. Unfortunately, the word wasn’t recorded before 1800, and the “gossip” meaning not till a century after that. But it’s a great word and you should use it anyway.

A keg was a small cask, usually less than ten gallons, used for things like gunpowder or rum.

A sea chest was a wooden box used to store an officer’s personal effects—or to confine a nosy hombrecito.

The Ship’s Bottom

(As it were.)

In several of my posts and diagrams I said the lower decks of the Revenge were the gun deck, the orlop, and the hold. But my friends, I made a grievous error: the Revenge has no orlop. I know!

In season 2, for the first time we get to see what’s below the gun deck. When Frenchie opens the secret passage in the kitchen, he reveals a set of stairs—sorry, a ladder—down to a grim, damp space. The kitchen is on the gun deck, so this is the deck immediately below it, and while on most ships that would’ve been the orlop, in this case it’s the hold.

The hold was the lowest compartment of the ship, used for storage and cargo. It also sometimes held the ballast—heavy stuff (e.g., pig iron, gravel, stones, lead) put there to improve the ship’s balance. The lowest part of the hold itself was called the bilge or bilges—the area where bilgewater collected and had to be pumped out.

Episode 3 shows the water on the floor—sorry, deck—making it pretty clear we’re in the bilges of the hold. On top of that, an Instagram post by crewmember Will Giles (shared on Tumblr by @ourflagmeansbts) mentioned repurposing the “bilge set.”

Which all proves that the Revenge’s hold is immediately below the gun deck, with no orlop in between.

The keel is the structural piece that runs lengthwise along the middle of the hull’s bottom. Keel-hauling was to drag someone along the outside of the keel, underwater, as a punishment—very nasty, often fatal.

Also underwater, at the stern, is the rudder, whose movement makes the ship turn. On a dinghy you steer by moving the tiller, a horizontal bar attached to the rudder post. On a ship like the Revenge, you turn the ship’s wheel, which is attached to the tiller via cables, and that moves the rudder.

That’s all for now! Coming next: sails and rigging, in port, and more sailing lingo.

Sources: Wikipedia, historicnavalfiction [dot] com, Oxford English Dictionary

[follows-the-bees]

Filmmaking analysis time!

How blocking and the use of rope and lighting shows the diverting threads of Stede's and Ed's paths in 2x7.

Rope Symbolism

Thread/rope/twine are used throughout this episode to symbolize the reeling in of Ed to the "normal life." My meta analysis of that can be viewed here. Or summarized in the below paragraph.

Something about the twine/rope spread throughout 2x7. First we see Ed use it to wrap up his leathers and dump it in the ocean. Next he cuts up two pieces of twine to add as flourish on the breakfast tray. And then while he's watching the fisherpeople, the camera focuses on the fish being extracted from the sting. And finally, while Ed and Stede talk, Ed tells him that he's leaving to become a fisherman, a large rope is in front of them the whole conversation. The twine symbolizing being reeled into the "normal" life: the dumping of his Blackbeard persona, the domesticity of breakfast in bed with his boyfriend, the fish caught up in the string being freed. But then the giant rope symbolizing the unraveling of the relationship with Stede and piracy.

Blocking

Keeping this thought in mind, let's now look at the position of Stede's and particularly Ed's body during the conversation.

At the start of the conversation, rope is shown on the left side of Ed, away from Stede. Ed is standing at the top of the platform, facing sideways and playing with the greenery. Stede is below, excited about his day, and he runs up the platform to be even with Ed.

Ed moves over and stands in front of the post, first facing away from Stede completely then turning to face forward with his head down, not looking at Stede. When Ed states, "I'm happy for you, I really am" he is physically walking away from Stede, not looking, showing with his body the exact opposite of his words.

When he comes to rest, his hands are on either side of the post, the rope is in front of him, one going towards Stede and one away, representing the two diverging paths Ed can choose right now.

Ed then leans forward on the railing, bringing his body in close, like he's covering himself in that metaphorical blanket he uses when he's being vulnerable. But Stede also leans on the railing, leaning toward Ed, matching his body language and keeping close to let him know he is there but not touching, not crossing that boundary without consent.

Stede then offers an olive branch. "Well, you know this can be whatever we want it to be." And the men continue facing forward but their heads are turned and are looking at each other as they speak.

The shot is tight, not showing the rope right now, instead it is an intimate moment and mainly faces are shown. We see all of Stede's head and shoulders when he speaks, showing that he is all in, he will take anything as long as Ed is by him. Breathing the same air. The top of Ed's head is cut off, which is a running theme and camerawork throughout this season to show the mental turmoil that Ed is going through.

They stand up straight again when Ed announces he's leaving - no longer on the same side and in defense mode. And the fight starts to escalate. They turn toward each other the first time and Ed even leans forward, taking a half step as he gestures and talks about catching the fish and being a fisherman now.

Ed starts to walk away once Stede says "the fish was whatever." Ed moves away from the pillar, the two diverging ropes and toward the one that leads away from Stede. He has made up his mind which thread he is going to follow. And the camera chooses to focus on Ed in the foreground because this is his decision, his choice, and Stede is blurry like the confused state of bundled ropes at this quick turn of events.

Stede stops at the top of the stairs where all of the rope is wrapped around the pillar in an organized mess. His path ends here, in this tangled mess of emotions, confused and weighed down by the heaviness of piracy and the past hours? Days? Where things have turned, his own thread that he has been following.

Ed no longer has that weight dragging him under. The twine reeling him to the normal life has triumphed as he cuts ties with the Blackbeard persona, the pirate life, and now Stede.

Lighting/Cinematography/Camerawork

The lighting in this scene (since Ned Low crashes the party in 2x6 has mostly been off.

You can literally see the light change from the warm glows of red and purple to the green tint in the above clip. As talked about in my analysis of cinematography used in 2x6 and 2x7 to show Stede's and Ed's emotional journey, green lighting/undertones are used to show the audience that something is off. This color grading is an abrupt departure from the usual coloring of the show and that is done on purpose here.

The sky is grey, muted, hints of that same green undertones faintly there, because this is reality hitting them in the face. This isn't the bright reds and purples of their love, the golden hues of them being each other's lighthouses, this is the cold grey of reality crashing down around them, a setting sun in this part of their relationship. Their body language is aggressive, scowls, raised voices, insults, and pointed fingers taking over from the dreamlike quality of a mermaid and ocean in bed together.

Lens flairs are often done from dramatic effect (unless you're JJ Abrams and they are just your style.) Most of the time, films are shot to avoid them, so when you see them your eye is drawn to it. And a very large one is purposely used in this scene. It is situated right between Ed and Stede and extends into the rope below while Ed is telling him that he wanted to take it slow. It punctuates his point, like a dawning of realization of the truth to the audience and Stede. This is the first time Stede is hearing about this and it hits hard.

The camera angle changes to just Ed when the truth comes out because this is his truth he needs to tell. Stede is not muddying the shot but instead where his shoulder or arm would be is the pillar with the tangle of ropes, showing both the knots Stede's stomach is tying itself into as well as how this speech is the thread leading to Stede.

(I would show a picture here but I can only attach 10, so imagine it!)

They are also dressed in opposite colors as when they first met. Then Stede was in light and Ed in his all black Blackbeard leathers. Now Ed is the one wearing light greys and Stede in is black and dark blue, carrying a sword. Their roles have switched.

Overall, all aspects of production come together, from the cinematography, clothing, props, blocking, etc to show just how off this scene is, how unsettling reality can be. And how we have different threads of paths we can take in our lives if only we are brave enough to grab hold of the right one.

While Stede at first heads up to Ed at the beginning of the scene, tries to save the situation, he's on one side of this thread. Ed straddles the cords and ultimately decides to break free of the thread that was leading him away from his beacon of light. He heads down and away from Stede, and descends onto a path by himself, and just like the fish he saw extracted from the twine earlier that day, just like the twine he placed on the tray in his panic, there are no threads left to keep him anchored.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

IZZY HANDS FIC RECS! (I want em', I've got em')

What is everyone reading in OFMD fandom right now?

I am currently mostly caught up on my 'to read list' and YALL. I'd love more recomendations!! I will take ANYTHING! I will read ANYTHING!

I'd love to start a chat, so I'd love y'all to leave something you've read recently down below!

I've also added some tasty ones I've read recently down below separated by ship! THEY ARE AMAZING!

Frenchie/Izzy:

The Poetry of Flowers: By Aletea [Rated:Teen. Complete]

Frenchie falls hard and fast. It takes Izzy a little while longer to catch up. This is the slow courtship of Izzy Hands, using flowers.

This fic was written for OFMD Aro/Ace Week 2024.

[Personal notes: OMG-It's so *GOOD*. This has a bit of S2, but mostly takes place post S2, if that tempts you, READ IT. This got me back into the hobby Frenchie does in the fic and AHHH]

you steal my breath away: By ChangeTheCircumstances [Rated: Mature. Complete]

Something is clearly off about Izzy, but when Frenchie sees him petting a cat, it finally clicks. Izzy is a fucking witch! In order to protect the crew, Frenchie makes the next obvious step in logic: he has to kill him.

[Personal notes: I feel this one is just 'if you like Frenchie/Izzy, you've READ THIS- but it's so earnest! SOLID fic the 'realizations' on both ends are really amazing and well written, reread it if you have]

Warnings from the Bottom of My Heart: By scrunglebungus [Rated: Teen. Complete]

Izzy likes Frenchie's voice. He appreciates his music and his long pretty fingers as they move across his Lute. He doesn't have a crush. He DOESN'T.

...and if he did, it's not like he's obvious about it.

(Spoiler: He is) AKA: 5 times Izzy is given the shovel talk + 1 time it's given on his behalf

[An alternate S2 fic written before S2! It leans a bit more 'Izzy needs to redeem himself' than I usually read, but all the Izzy & Crew interactions are SO in character it's scary. That and the Captains are so well realized on top of Izzy and Frenchie being great. LOVE IT]

Roach/Izzy:

Take Up Thy Stethoscope And Walk: bongbingbong [Rated:Mature. Complete]

Of Roach, the scientist - although, that those ghoulish practices he carries out should be called science is a subject on which some might disagree - I feel like I should speak with extreme terror. In laying down those events which transpired during that winter in the turning over of our century, it seems as though on paper they create an impression of little more than a tawdry tale, a freak show in writing for the morbidly curious. It’s no question that I spent a great deal of that time afraid for my life, and for my soul. And yet, I tell you - I have never felt quite so alive as I did during the days I have spent living in the graveyard.

I wonder what this might say about me. What a pair we make.

Izzy Hands dies. Roach brings him back to life. This is the easiest part of the process.

Written for the OFMD Reverse Big Bang 2023, with art from Tarouofthesea!

[Omg. OMFG. I love this fic. I love this Frankenstein'ian/Reanimator fic SO MUCH. It is just SOOOOOOO-! AMAZING characterization, stunning art, the way everything pays off plot/reference-wise! LOVE IT!]

Blackbeard's Roach: bongbingbong [Rated: Teen. Unfinished. 4/6]

What if Roach had ended up on the Queen Anne's Revenge before the events of the show?

(A alternative universe Roach who wears leather and cooks for Blackbeard's crew, and flirts outrageously with their first mate)

[ANOTHER bongbingbong Roach/Izzy fic!!! I love the way bongbingbong writes Roach/Izzy. It's not finished, but I am SO excited to see how it goes! In this one, even though it's unfinished, I feel it GETS the pre-Bonnet life Izzy lived on the Queen Anne. If you like probably autistic Izzy, READ THIS! That, and Roach and Izzy's relationship is SO GOOD. I won't spoil it, but the mutual trust is really strong!]

Stede/Izzy:

The Mount: rainingrenee [Explicit. Complete (WLW smut<3)]

Stede Bonnet enters the Revenge self defence class expecting to learn something.

She meets instructor Butch Dyke Supreme Izzy Hands and gets more than she bargained for.

[God. I love women. This smutty 8k fic is AMAZING and honestly any WLW in this fandom needs some love!]

When It Takes Hold: krill collins (krillcollins)[Explicit: 5/12]

Izzy Hands, a 90s heartthrob turned casting director with an impressively average back catalogue, never foresaw his career trajectory bringing him back to television. He certainly never would've guessed that his big return would be on Strictly Come Dancing. At least it breaks the monotony, even if he's paired with the insufferable twat, the Gentleman of the Ballroom.

It's the kind of fast-paced environment that Izzy was sure he'd long-since grown out of, and he's sure he's not going to make it past the first few weeks. Still, the more he finds himself enjoying it, the more he hopes he'll stay, and he finds himself more in love with life than he's been in years.

Still, the talk of the curse puts Izzy on edge. Bonnet is strangely captivating and seems more interested in Izzy than Edward has in years. Izzy may not believe in them, but that's the thing about curses: once they take hold...

[OMG. OMFG?!?!? Do you know how much I love 'Dancing with the Stars' AU? NO? Well. For every fandom I enter, my first tags I search are 'time loop' 'time travel' and 'dancing'. This fic is EVERYTHING I love about the trope. I have been following this fic from Day 1 and OMG. I love it. Can't recommend it enough]

The Island: triedunture [Explicit: 10/? Updates every Friday-SteddyHands but Izzy/Stede focused]

Stede Bonnet wakes up in the little cottage he and Ed share—except Ed's not there. Izzy is. Stede is somehow stuck in a world where Ed died and Izzy lived. As he struggles to get back to his real life, it becomes clear that things on the island are very different from what he first assumed....

Updates every Friday.

[A fic that, if the premise sounds cool-READ IT! It's a bit out there concept wise, but SO fun, and a great look at how Stede and Izzy interact in a 'do I want him' type of relationship. This fic has been my weekly bed time story, and I can't wait to see how the drama UNFOLDS!]

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm loving all your wonderful fics. If you are still interested in prompts, would you consider one that relates to your recent sick fic: Ed telling Stede about the past situation where he had to juggle leading his crew through a storm while stitching himself up?

Ough yes good prompt!! This one made me sad, I love it.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic! (still accepting prompts btw, can't promise I'll get to all of them but if I'm inspired I'm doing it!)

--

Ed told the story like he thought it was supposed to be funny.

“So there we are,” he said, leaning over the dinner table. They’d just finished eating, and Ed had lit his pipe, and yeah, at first, the story had been fun. “Now, remember, I’ve been a captain for all of-”

“Three months,” Stede nodded, demonstrating his active listening to Ed’s story.

“Three months,” Ed repeated. “Maybe ninety days strung together, right? I’m barely twenty-five. Barely even had Blackbeard’s black beard. Mostly just a scraggly thing stuck to my chin. And that raid fuckin’ rung me out. But I made it! Not a single casualty on my crew, not one.”

“Bet the other crew couldn’t say the same,” Stede laughed, and Ed laughed with him, and Stede was dreamily thinking about how Ed must have looked, so young but already so brilliant, so confident, so-

“But I didn’t know then what I know now,��� Ed went on, taking a couple puffs from his pipe. “And I didn’t notice my helmsman pointing us right into the squall. Barely had time to get away from the ship we’d been scrapping with before we hit it, head-on.”

Stede shivered. Ed’s storytelling voice never failed to capture his attention.

“And, remember,” Ed continued, “I’m trying to hide that I’m bleeding all over the fuckin’ place.”

“Wait,” Stede interrupted, raising a hand before Ed could continue. “Bleeding?”

“Well, yeah, I told you the raid rung me out pretty good,” Ed shrugged. “I’d been so busy watching what my crew were doing I was hardly paying attention to myself. Reckon I still - yeah, look.”

Ed adjusted in his seat, hitching up his shirt and pulling the waistband of his pants down with his thumb, running his finger along the faded, jagged scar that ran from right under his ribs to to the top of his hip. 

“Got me pretty good,” Ed said with a chuckle.

Stede kissed his fingers, then reached out to press them to the old scar, and Ed covered Stede’s hand with his own to keep it there.

“What did you do?” Stede asked.

“What I had to,” Ed said, pulling his shirt back down, taking another puff of his pipe, and getting right back into his storytelling voice. “I’d been thinking I needed to go and stitch myself up, right? But by the time we’re in it, rain’s already coming down in sheets, and this crew is still new to my ship, and they’re new to me, and I’m new to them. So I tied myself to the wheel, and-”

Stede felt his eyes get wider and the pain in his chest get deeper as Ed went on with the story, telling Stede about how he’d tied himself to the wheel to avoid sliding right off, shouting orders to his crew, yelling at his first mate to take some younger sailors who were panicking below decks before they got everyone killed.

He told him about how he’d only stopped once he was starting to get dizzy from how much he was bleeding. He’d made up some excuse to run below decks, grab a sewing needle, and get about halfway through sewing himself up before someone called for him.

He told him how he’d had to cling to the railing for dear life because his legs were so shaky.

He’d tied a scrap of canvas, torn from a sail by the winds, around his middle to try and control the bleeding.

By the time he’d been able to finish stitching himself back up, he said, laughing like it was just some slight misfortune, he’d been so weak he’d tied himself to the wheel again, just to stay upright. It had been hours after that until he’d been able to sit down.

And Ed must have realized, finally, Stede didn’t think this story was as fun as he did, because he was frowning, by then. “Pretty cool, right? Tell ya, I was a tough little fucker.”

“How are you laughing at this?” Stede finally managed to ask.

Ed looked surprised. “I mean, if you can’t laugh, what can you do?”

Stede pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you get help?”

Ed blinked.

“Couldn’t,” he said, like it was obvious. “Told you, I was young, most of these guys were twice my age. Any weakness and…y’know.”

Stede swallowed, imagining it. Ed gritting his teeth through the pain, afraid to let anyone see. Slipping on the deck, unsure if it was the rain or his own blood wetting the boards. Hinging his bets on a scrap of canvas tied around his waist.

“Hey, Stede, babe!” Ed snuffed out his pipe and reached across the table, taking one of Stede’s hands to press to his own chest, so Stede could feel the steady heartbeat beneath his palm. “I’m alright, see? I’m right here.”

Stede clenched his fingers in Ed’s shirt. “You know,” he said, “that you can come to me if you need anything? Anything at all? You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course I know that.” When Stede cupped Ed’s face in his hand, Ed’s hand came up to cover his, nuzzling his face into his palm. “I know I’m safe with you.”

And Stede wished he could go back, to save Ed from all that pain, but - he could be there for him now, and that would have to be enough.

A few days later, while working on repairing a section of their roof, Ed hit his thumb with a hammer.

It was a tiny injury. Barely anything at all, especially not compared to that story.

But Ed came down to find Stede, working on the walls, and he showed him his bruised, sore thumb.

“Kiss it better?” Ed asked.

Stede obliged happily, of course, and Ed might’ve looked sheepish at first, but soon he was soaking up the attention. Stede couldn’t go back and fix everything, couldn’t save Ed from any pain, but he could help him feel safe now - and that was enough.

[blakbonnet]

Am I the only one who feels really bad and sad that Olu, Jim and Archie were planning on leaving the Revenge without having a second thought at the end of Ep7? I mean... they are a family! I really don't understand why they would just leave like that. Poor Stede. He lost nearly evetything in a single day. I get why he got so mad.

I get why he was mad and acted like an idiot - Ed dumped him, he probably knew at the back of his mind that his success won't last forever and everyone will know that he's a failure sooner or later, and to top it all - the one thing he wasn't worried about, the crew were also leaving him.

So he picked the stupid hubristic fight with zheng and got his ass handed to him but like she said "it's not poaching if they want to leave" and Stede just didn't understand that.

On top of that, he was calming down when he realised that Olu and the others just didn't want to stay on the Revenge anymore but then she threw the serial killer boyfriend line at him which was yeah below the belt, particularly in that moment. So he tried to "win them back"

I completely 100% understand why he did it, his actions are consistent with his character and circumstances.

I think the definition of family to him and to them is quite different too. They're proper pirates, they're transient by nature, and olu and jim are family, not them and stede. Stede is their boss, a friend at most. We do forget that Stede fucked off and never left them a note but expects some kind of "they'll stay with me just because we had some good times". Which is again so so Stede. He expects people to stay static where he leaves them - did that with Mary too.

It's so so complicated and so rich of a character to be honest but not like Ed - Stede is not hard to read at all lmao he's an open book!

[johannestevans]

Rated E, Frenchie/Izzy, 45k+. WIP.

ACT II

It’s three months after their parting that providence works in their favour – in the midst of a raging storm, lightning strikes the Queen Anne, and in the ensuing fire they lose one mast entirely and another set of sails.

Ed’s not been well, has been spiralling between good days and bad days, and Izzy’s not really equipped to deal with it anymore, not that he ever was. He doesn’t know how it happens, exactly. Maybe Ed pushes him, maybe Ed grabs him by the throat and throws him overboard – maybe he shot at him, and Izzy fell backward to get away from the shot.

Maybe he jumped. Maybe he walked straight off the side and into the drink, and let it take him.

He doesn’t know.

What he does know is that after six days at sea, gripping tight to a barrel, it’s not Ivan and the lads on the Revenge that pick him up, and it’s not another set of merchant sailors or a naval vessel or pirates, neither – it’s Stede Bonnet and his crew of madmen, naturally.

It’s just what makes the most narrative sense, isn’t it?

“Jesus Christ,” Wee John says as he carries Izzy into the shadows of below decks, and Izzy almost sobs with relief at just how cold it is inside, at the relief of the shadows instead of the sun beating down on his back. “He’s peeling like fucking paint.”

“Get him here,” Izzy hears Roach say, and he grunts as scissors slide under his trouser leg, cutting away the fabric clinging to him – his shirt is already mostly torn away although he’d tried desperately to cling onto his vest, and the pants are a lost cause regardless.

Izzy loses the ability to parse out what’s being said over top of him as Roach starts applying medical treatment – some sort of balm for his burnt and torn-up arms and shoulders, his face, his fucked-up feet where fish have been nibbling at him, and there’s a jellyfish sting, too.

He clings onto consciousness until he sees Frenchie in the doorway looking as if he’s about to cry – Frenchie, alive, healthy, still wearing his black boots and jacket but back in colour underneath it – and then he lets the world go dark.

[maximwtf]

 “A momentary escape”

Stede Bonnet x Reader

words: 1590

google docs pages: 3,5

warnings: Description of noise related overstimulation. 

opening: The noise from a celebration happening on the ship gets a little too much for you, and you decide to retreat to somewhere a little quieter. Though, someone soon notices your absence. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! For absolutely no reason I’ve been really overstimulated for days now and this is the result of that. Also a chance to learn how to write for Stede. (Apologies if this appears lazy, I’m tired as all hell but felt like writing this out) I'll be back on the requests soon <3

 “A momentary escape”

The Revenge’s crew were having a ‘small’ celebration as they had put it. Though, by your definition what they were having was a whole ball. It might have started as something small, but once the rum and music had truly come to play, it might have gotten a little out of hand. And now by the sound of it they might as well have been dancing the hornpipe for all you knew. You’d retreated a little further away from all the noise, not being able to see what truly was going on. At the very least, the sea shanties were sung rather loud, you being able to hear the singing through the wooden walls. It was all getting a little too much. Too much noise from too many directions, an overwhelming amount. It had started to feel like there were multiple tv channels on at the same time, some of them being just static noise. 

So you’d seen it best to leave silently and make your way from the galley to the main deck through the lower deck. You didn’t want to go off on anyone for simply having fun, knowing how snappy you might become if you’d stayed for longer. 

Even the main deck had gotten a little messy before the crew had ultimately decided to leave as the evening started getting colder. A soft, yet amused huff left your nose, knowing Izzy wouldn’t be thrilled tomorrow morning. Some poor hangover crew member would be mopping the deck clean as soon as the first mate’s gaze would land on the mess. 

You shook your head, the thoughts mixing with the overstimulation in your mind. You needed some peace and quiet, a place where you could be alone and as far away from noise as possible. Sure, there was room on the deck, but it felt like anyone could have appeared to come and bother you. Your eyes landed on a ladder that led to the crowsnest. There. No one would be looking for anyone from up there. 

You took a lantern with you, having to hang it from your mouth while climbing the ladder. The flame in it, being so close, warmed your collar. It would have been nice in the cool weather, but you were more scared it would light you on fire if you didn’t make it to the top quicker. After making it through the lubber’s hole, you placed the lantern on the right side, seating yourself on the left. 

The waves hitting the bow of the ship and swaying the vessel felt a little more intense from the height you were in. But you didn’t fear getting seasick from it, your mind was too busy being too loud. Without even noticing you’d started chewing on your inner lip while leaning on the mast behind you. A muffled sound of the celebration happening below deck was still coming through, all the way up to the crowsnest, but it was a lot better this way. 

The air was slightly colder than you would have liked, the feeling of your fingertips getting colder bringing up the realisation. Sometimes a gush of wind would hit the fabric of the sails and cause a silent noise. A couple of waves would hit the bow of the ship, the splash of them audible if you focused on the sound. With a deep breath your gaze landed on the surface of the sea, trying to calm down by following the movements of the water. 

Time passed, but you didn’t feel much better. The muffled racket still haunting you enough to make it almost impossible to calm down. The sound of the ladder hitting the mast irritated you, but only after the initial anger did you realise that the sound was caused by someone being on the ladder. “Who-” You started, but didn’t have to ask the rest. Stede’s head appeared through the lubber’s hole, before he was able to climb higher and stand up on the platform. “Oh, there you are. Quite a party down there, aye?” He’d said before that. 

You stared at the man quietly, irritated by the sound of him talking but not wanting to upset him by telling him to leave when he’d just gotten up there. “Now, why are you here alone? It’s rather awfully cold up here.” He spoke, kneeling down a little to get to your level. Closing your eyes and placing your palms over them, you took a moment. “I needed some air.” You said, voice slightly muffled from speaking in a lower tone. By the sound of it, Stede had sat down as well. He wasn’t going to leave. 

“Ah, I see. Well, at the very least take my coat, it is cold up here after all.” He said, the sound of him sliding his arm out of one of the coat’s sleeves following after. You lowered your hands, the other forming into a fist beside you. “Stede, shut up…be quiet.” You said in a rather desperate voice, taking another breath. You had no idea how this man was able to keep up such a one sided conversation either. You’d barely replied to anything he’d said, yet he kept talking to you. A sweet thing, in any other situation. 

Stede had fallen quiet for a moment after that, his mouth slightly agape as he thought of what to say, not sure if he should have even said ‘of course’. The captain’s mouth closed. He took a more comfortable position on the platform, moving his gaze to where yours was. On the water. You hadn’t told him to leave, only to be quiet. And he wanted to respect that, wait for you to maybe say something. 

A more comfortable silence filled the air. Almost like the appearance of Stede had silenced some of the noise coming from below deck. Almost like all the noise in your mind had gotten silenced along with it. This also allowed you to think of what you’d said previously. The man had just tried to be kind, offering his coat and asking why you’d left. “I’m sorry about that.” You said along a sigh. This gained the attention of the blonde captain quickly, as his eyes turned on your huddled up form. “Oh, It’s alright. Are you okay?” He asked, his hands playing with the buttons of the coat as he worried for your well being. He’d noticed your absence rather quickly, but taken more time than expected to finally find you. “Yeah, the…noise got a little overwhelming, is all.” You said, voice attempting to betray you as it shook. Not out of any emotion, but it was starting to get cold. Your hands had lost all warmth some time ago, but you could also feel the cold creep up to your face, feeling your jaw start losing its warmth. It made talking a little harder, having to speak more slowly. 

You couldn’t see Stede all too well, but his expression had softened. A more concerned yet gentle look on his face now. “Ah, I see. They did get a little rowdy, I admit. Would you rather me leave? I wasn’t sure earlier.” He said, tone almost apologetic after realising that you’d most likely left to be alone for a moment. You shook your head, and replied. “Stay, please?” To which he gave you a nod, lifting the coat. “Would you like to find a quieter place? My cabin is mostly sound proof.” He suggested, clearly seeing you were starting to freeze. You turned to look at him, tilting your head slightly. “Won’t you be needed? The crew will come asking for you soon, I presume?” You asked, not even quite sure how no one had yet come on the main deck to look for the man. Stede chuckled silently, shaking his head. “I doubt they even noticed I left. So?” He raised his eyebrows slightly, waiting for your answer. 

It would only get colder from here, forcing you to give him a slow nod. Though, the warmth of a cabin didn’t sound bad. “Sure.” You said, standing up. Stede smiled gently as he stood up with you, offering the coat again. He didn’t say much more, only happy that he was able to offer a place of respite when you needed it. “Thank you.” You said, pulling the coat over your shoulders. It felt heavy, not used to wearing such fancy clothing. You didn’t even know which part of it weighed so much, like a small back bag. “Of course.” Stede smiled, allowing you to go down the ladder first, following only after you’d gotten back down on the main deck. 

You watched Stede descend, waited until he was next to you once more. Even in the dark, you could have sworn you saw his hand rise and suddenly stop. “Is it okay if I-” The captain asked in a rushed tone, seemingly still careful around you, not wanting to be the cause of your distress. You smiled faintly, taking his hand in yours. The touch felt comforting, mostly because the man’s hand was still somehow warmer than yours. Stede gave you a gentle smile, leading you towards his quarters in a comfortable silence. Suddenly the disturbing noise was all gone, not even the speaking sounded louder than it truly was. But the silence was still a comfort. 

[steddie-my-love]

Tangled Up

Dads!Gentlebeard x Daughter!Reader

When you’re just about done with your tangled hair, ed comes in with a solution to stop you from doing something drastic.

A/N: I wrote this based on my experience as an individual with 3a texture hair growing up- i apologize for any inaccuracies as pertaining to other people’s experience with hair

—-

If there was one thing you didn’t account for when becoming a pirate, it was how to take care of your hair. Sure, a day at the beach wouldn’t do anything too terrible but after months your head was in rough shape.

it started as a few tangles at the base of your head, but quickly grew tighter and thicker until it was impossible to fix. Eventually the skin below grew tender and you couldn’t stand to even lay on your back, feeling the tension.

So, as Stede and Ed stood out on the deck planning their next move you slipped into the captain’s quarters. Digging through Stede’s things you found mountains of trinkets until you found what you were looking for; a pair of fine, shaft scissors perfect for cutting hair.

Steadying yourself, you pressed the cool metal to the back of your head. Your hand began to close in until-

“What on earth are you doing?” Stede’s voice rang out, eyes wide as he took in the scene “you know you could have hurt yourself with those!”

you dropped the scissors to the ground, stomach dipping as you were caught. embarrassment burned in your eyes as the two captains stared you down.

“here mate,” Ed murmured to the blonde “i’ll get this sorted, just bring me a coconut yeah?”

Without a word stede flounced to the kitchen, leaving you and the dread captain alone in their quarters. ed cleared his throat “how bad is it?”

You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“i promise it’s nothing to be embarrassed about-” ed continued “you don’t have hair as long as mine without some nasty knots popping up here and there”

Ed moved over to the couch, picking a few choice pillows before throwing them on the ground, creating a seat. “take a seat please doll, i promise it’ll feel better without it tugging on your neck like it is”

Timidly, you walked forward, eyes downwards as you sat before the notorious pirate captain. Despite his callused fingers, ed’s touch was gentle, parting the uneffected hair out of the way.

“i’ve got the coconut for you darling” stede called, the top of the fruit already chopped off.

“what are you going to do with a coconut?” you timidly asked. A furrow in your brow that seemed to mirror stede a little too much making ed laugh.

“It’s not for drinking” ed chuckled, before taking some of the water into his hand and scrunching it into your hair “coconut water helps strengthen and detangle hair. i’ll just let it absorb and then try to lightly comb out the rest.”

Once the coconut was drained, Ed took a fine comb from stede’s personal collection and had begun detangling the mess of hair, starting from the bottom and working his way up.

“How did you learn to do this ed?” you asked as the conversation lulled, gentle fingers carding through your hair.

“i suppose it’s a skill my mother taught me.” ed said absently “she always said that it was important to look your best i guess.”

After a while, ed had finished. your hair was now back to its normal, untangled and glinting under the lantern light.

“how about i braid that up for you?” stede interjected, hands twitching in his lap as he waited to be helpful. “if you keep it braided it’ll protect against getting knotted up again.”

Ed gave a nod “that does help, though it’s your choice kid”

With your nod, stede took ed’s place on the couch. gently taking your hair he wove it together, occasionally stopping to ask if something was hurting which it never was.

At the end, your hair was left in a simple, yet elegant braid, two whispy pieces left to frame your face. “stede this is gorgeous, where did you learn this?” you asked, mouth agape as the gnarled hair was now smoothly tucked into itself.

“wow! ed- stede- thank you, i don’t know what to say!” you exclaimed, wrapping the two men into a hug.

“of course kid” Ed said, pulling you tighter. “We’ll always be here to help.” said the other. And so that braid stayed in until there was another, and another, and eventually your hair braiding became the preferred nighttime ritual of the dread blackbeard and the notorious gentleman pirate.

[clairegregoryau]

Hello Tumblr pals- I've been neglecting you with my Olympic diving information so I've decided it's time to pop it up here, too.

You may or may not know that I wrote an Olympic diving fic for the Our Flag Means Death fandom, featuring newcomer Stede and veteran Ed at the Paris 2024 Games, who compete for different countries but fall into a love that goes beyond borders. Synchronicity is very spicy, very full of love, and very full of diving, so having written it because I've been obsessed with the diving since I was a kid, it's been LOVELY hitting the actual Olympics and having friends to watch with.

But that also means I have information, which I've put together into infographics that might help you enjoy the events!

First up, the diving events by height! You'll see that there are lots of different boards, but only two are used in competition- the fixed surface 10m platform, and the flexible surface 3m springboard.

You can see a calendar of the Olympic events this time around here.

The synchronised events are completed in a single round of five dives for women and six dives for men, while the individual events include three rounds of five (women) and six (men) dives.

Most divers only compete in either the 3m or the 10m, but some (like the legendary Greg Louganis) compete in both. Only some divers compete in both the individual and the synchronised events, but if you were to compete in all of the men's events, here's how many dives you'd do!

The synchronised events feature only eight teams.

The individual events can have up to 30 competitors in the preliminary round. The top 18 go through to the semi-final, and then the top 12 from that round go through to the final, where they compete for the gold, silver and bronze medals. The scores are reset in each round.

Women must complete dives from five different groups on springboard and platform.

Men must complete dives from five different groups on springboard, and five different groups in the synchronised platform events, and six different groups in the individual platform events (the sixth group being the armstand group, which can't be used on springboard).

The armstand group is allowed but not required in the men's synchronised events (I'm not sure if this is a recent change but I really thought it was required there, too, until I realised nobody used it in the recent round of synchronised diving! So where you see me stating it's required in these infographics, that's only for the men's individual 10m platform events).

An illustration of the diving groups and the direction of launch and rotation they represent include forward, back, reverse, inward, twist, and armstand (only used on the 10m platform):

Every dive has a dive number that explains all the elements of it, and these are explained below.

Non-twisting dives have three numbers and a letter. The first shows the diving group, and the second whether there's a flying action (this is rare in Olympic competition and will almost always be zero). The third shows the number of half somersaults completed (going from upright on launch to head down on entry will always result in an odd number). The letter is the dive position.

The numbers for twisting dives are similar, but they include four numbers and a letter. The first number is almost always 5 for a twisting dive (but can be 6 if it starts from an armstand position). The direction of rotation is next, or the equivalent to the other diving groups. The number of half somersaults is next, followed by the number of half twists. And the letter also shows the dive position.

The diving positions- straight, pike, tuck, and free- are shown below.

Straight involves no bend or curve to the body. Pike means legs straight and body bent at the waist. Tuck is the legs bent and tucked against the body. And free includes a combination of positions, and is generally used in twisting dives. Each dive is given a degree of difficulty based on a chart that calculates the complexity of the combination, which can be found in the appendix here.

In the synchronised events, everyone's dives receive a degree of difficulty of 2.0 for the first round, no matter what their normal degree of difficulty would be, which is why you often see divers using the simplest possible types of dives.

Speaking of scoring, there's a fair bit of complicated math involved! But hopefully this might help break it down a little.

In individual events, seven judges assess each diver and how successfully they completed the listed dive, which has to be submitted in advance. The top two and the bottom two scores are eliminated. The three remaining scores are added together, and then multiplied by the degree of difficulty for the total score. The scores from each dive are added together for the final score.

It gets a little more complicated in the synchronised event!

Eleven judges assess each synchronised diving round. Six score the divers (three for each) and five score the synchronisation. The top and bottom scores for each diver are eliminated, as are the top and bottom synchronisation scores. The remaining five are added together, and then multiplied by 0.6 to reduce five scores to the equivalent of three. This is then multiplied by the degree of difficulty for the total score. Each round's score is added together for the final score.

The actual scoring of the diving includes many different factors, but most importantly, they're measured against the specific planned dive and how well it's executed. Failure to complete the planned dive can result in zero points. You can see all the detailed rules here!

So there you go! That's all the info on how to understand Olympic diving across the 16 events that take place during the Olympics. I hope this helps! To see the upcoming events (make sure the filter is set to your local time) check out the Olympic diving schedule here.

And if you'd like to see our historical pirates transported across to the world for a modern AU and a sweeping sports romance, check out Synchronicity and the Love Beyond Borders series.

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember 2023 Day 2: Brain Drain

I have committed Our Flag Means Death fanfiction! I am so sorry. Stede/Ed, Ed/Izzy, somehow happy poly and happy metamours making a lovely vee. Takes place in some AU season 2 where the last arc of the season never happened. Izzy is living his best happy masochist life.

Author knows fuck all about ships.

Izzy had gotten much more comfortable spending time with his shipmates since the Calypso's birthday incident.

There was nothing like a round of torture to bring a crew together, he thought.

Tonight the whole group had gathered in the galley under the ship, laughing and chatting long past when they usually went into their quarters for the evening. The sea had been calm that day and the mood was social. Everyone seemed quite relaxed.

Only two members were missing.

Oluwande looked up from his cuddle pile with Jim and Archie. He seemed to have read Izzy's mind. "Hey," he called out to the gathered group, "Has anyone seen the captains this evening?"

"No!" a few people responded.

"Thank God," snarked Black Pete. "Blackbeard...well Ed has been freaking me out. Yelled at me earlier about trimming the sails and you KNOW I keep them the trimmest, babe," he said to his partner Lucius.

"Yeah, he snarled at me when I told him 'hello' earlier," said Archie. "Like this!" She contorted her face into a frankly over-the-top grimace. "Made me nearly jump out of my skin. I may have heard him yell at some seagulls too? Or dolphins?"

Roach looked worried. "Neither captain has come down for dinner, yet," he said.

"Perhaps they are...occupied in the captain's quarters," speculated Izzy.

"Oh? Feeling left out, are you?" joked Frenchie, the little shit. Izzy tactfully ignored him.

Roach replied, still concerned. "Captain Stede will usually come down and request provisions in advance if they're having a long night alone," said Roach. "Thinks he's being sneaky, says they need extra energy 'for planning raids.'"

"My room is below theirs. Trust me, they've not been buggering today," piped up Wee John. "Unless they've learned to be much more quiet about it."

"Maybe they've gotten into a spat and someone's gotten pushed off the ship," spat Lucius. "That'll happen with him, you know."

"OK, that's enough," said Izzy, trying to regain control over the situation as everyone began to talk at once. "You're like gossipy fishwives, all of you. I'll go check on the captains. Make sure Bonnet's not running the ship into a cliff or something."

Izzy climbed up the stairs and started to look around the ship. Ed and Stede weren't in the captain's quarters (being quiet for once). There was no sign of them on the deck. He even craned his neck up to the bird's nest and checked. No captains there.

He finally spotted them at the back of the ship- on a little bit of the stern mostly hidden from view. They were both sitting facing out at the ocean. From a distance, Izzy could see Stede's arm was bent around Ed's shoulder, his hand occasionally reaching up to rock Ed's drooped head into slow, almost imperceptible little circles. Aside from the rocking, Ed's body was remarkably still. It was a huge change from the tense, coiled menace that Ed's frame had carried earlier in the day. Now, he looked almost like a puppet with his strings cut, only responding to Stede's guidance. His arms rested gently besides his legs, lax and pliant.

Izzy could hear Bonnett speaking in a low, soothing voice near Ed's ear but he was too far to make out any words.

Ed had mentioned mesmerism to Izzy before. It was one of the many upperclass daliances that Bonnet had introduced him to- one of those many trifling hobbies that Izzy would never begin to understand the appeal of. Izzy even knew that Bonnet had used his skills on Ed previously. His captain confided that Bonnett's fancy mesmerism routine had helped him find quiet during his not-infrequent emotional storms, that it evened out his seemingly uncontrollable highs and lows. In Izzy's mind, he had pictured the whole thing looking quite comical- Bonnett with wiggly fingers staring daggers into Ed's eyes (maybe with rays), Edward swooning and fainting away in response like a lady whose corset was too tight.

This was quieter than what he had pictured. Gentle. Intimate, even. As he looked over at the scene, he had the sudden feeling that perhaps he shouldn't intrude.

He began to walk away when Stede turned his head and look directly at him. Izzy froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Stede quietly waved him over to where the couple was sitting.

As Izzy approached, he began to get a closer look at Ed's face. His eyes were closed and his face relaxed. His chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. As he come closer, he noticed Ed's eyes were making little flickers underneath his eyelids like he was dreaming.

Izzy wondered what dreams were happening below those lids.

Ed's brows furrowed a bit as Izzy came closer, picking up the noise.

Stede stroked a reassuring hand through his hair. He spoke in his ear, this time loud enough so Izzy could hear: "Shhhhhhh sweetness. It's OK. Relax. You're not in charge right now, remember? Just rest."

Ed's expression immediately cleared. He let held breath with a sigh.

"Izzy's here," Stede continued. "He and I are going to have a chat for a bit. But you don't have to pay attention to that right now, ok? Just drift. Why don't you see how deep you can count yourself down for me while we talk? I'll be right here. I'll touch your leg when it's time for you to listen to me again, ok?"

Ed gave a slight, dreamy nod. His lips barely moved as he began to count silently.

Seemingly satisfied, Stede gestured for Izzy to sit and moved over closer to him.

Izzy sat down, still staring at Ed's lax face. Somehow that by itself was just fascinating. Ed seemed so vulnerable and bare right now. Izzy wasn't sure if he should feel honored or spooked.

"He had a bad day," Stede said gently, nodding over to their entranced boyfriend. "You know how he gets. He needed out of his head for a bit."

Izzy DID understand how Ed got- probably more than his dandyish captain ever would. Hopefully more that Stede ever would, he corrected himself. Ed had certainly told his other boyfriend at least a bit about the hurricane that had been his and Izzy's relationship in the past. When times were bad, they had only known how to take their energy out on each other. They bit and snarled and scratched at one another just to drown out all the noise inside. Izzy had always assumed Ed had NEEDED all of that- needed to hurt and make Izzy suffer the same way that Izzy needed to hurt and suffer for him. That's how they worked. That's who they were together.

Since arriving on the Revenge, though, Izzy had seen more and more of the hidden soft side of Blackbeard. The side that enjoyed fancy clothes and fine foods. The side that kissed Stede's cheek sweetly when he didn't think anyone else was looking. The side that, even now, sat loose and drifting and unguarded while his two boyfriends stayed by him and had a chat.

"Can he hear us?" Izzy asked Stede, curiously.

Stede smiled. "He can hear us, he's just..focused elsewhere right now. Mesmerism's not a magic spell, it's more like- a nice version of where Ed's brain goes when he's navigating. Or how he is when he's trying to sniff out a storm."

Izzy was familiar with his captain's tendency to tune everything out while trying to read the sea. He pictured the absolute, unshakeable concentration of his focused gaze. "Only with nice, clear skies?"

Stede nodded. "Only with nice clear skies." He looked fondly at Ed's dreaming face. "No rain. Nothing to worry about right now." He had dropped into a lighter, dreamy tone- and for a moment, Izzy wasn't sure if he was still speaking to Ed or Izzy or even somehow mesmerizing himself.

Izzy had seen many things in his travels. He once heard a street charlatan talk about mesmerism- saying mesmerism somehow balanced out a person's magnetic forces (y'know- whatever magnetic forces were). He wasn't one for all of Stede's little tricks but- he did understand about needing balance.

Izzy had initially misunderstood Ed's relationship to Stede. He worried that the gentleman pirate would make Ed weak. That he would seduce him away. That he would try to turn the great Blackbeard into one of Stede's fancy little gentleman friends. Izzy had been terrified there would be nothing left of the Ed that he loved after Stede was through.

But Ed was still Izzy's Ed, even now. He could still fight and outwit and outmaneuver anyone else on the sea. He would still protect his crew with all the fierceness of his notorious reputation. He and Izzy could still lose themselves in each other- in their old married couple bickering, in their fighting and fucking, in their indulgences of Ed's sadism and Izzy's corresponding masochism. It just- felt more controlled now. Izzy no longer wondered if Ed actually hated him or if he was just looking for someone convenient to break. He no longer worried that Blackbeard would maim him so badly that he couldn't look after the crew. Even when Ed hurt him now- and he WOULD still hurt him, Stede didn't magic that part away- Izzy was always rewarded with a kiss and some praise afterwards. "That's so good, Izzy. You did so well for me," he would say. Edward seemed so much stronger in these moments now- able to control his own fierceness and use it as a weapon- but also to hold Izzy as he fell apart for him.

Izzy looked over at Ed's quiet countenance- so different than before. It was otherworldy seeing him this serene and distant. He had a sudden desire to protect this version of Ed- Stede's gentle Ed. To keep him safe. A mad, possessive impulse made it to Izzy's mouth before he could stop it.

"Can I touch him?" he asked. "Like this?"

Stede looked surprised. "By touch, do you mean....?"

"His face, Bonnet" Izzy replied, snarkily. "Or his hand or something. His hair. Not going to wank him off on the deck, now am I?"

Stede bit back a laugh. He leaned over to gently touch Ed's leg.

Ed reacted with an almost imperceptible startle before gently settling- serene like the moon going back behind a cloud.

"Shhh- that's OK, love, you can stay relaxed. Good," Stede soothed. "Izzy was wondering if he could touch you while you're in trance. Would that be OK?"

Ed took a moment to respond, as though the words were reaching him from a great distance. Then he nodded his assent.

Stede smiled back at Izzy, reassuringly. Izzy took a breath- then reached over to slowly stroke Ed's hair.

His fearsome Blackbeard smiled in return to the gesture- giving a happy little murmur. He slightly leaned his head in. Just like an affectionate kitten, Izzy thought.

"Good," soothed Bonnet at Ed. "I bet that feels nice."

Izzy grinned too, feeling oddly proud to be trusted with this quiet moment. He and Ed had never been conventional. Maybe it was OK that Ed and Stede weren't either. Maybe it was ok that their relationships were so different- that they saw such different aspects of the same person.

Maybe it was all ok.

Maybe it all balanced.

They sat quietly for a long moment on the deck, letting the peace of the atmosphere soothe them.

Gradually Stede stirred. "Izzy- I forgot to ask: Did the men send you? Were they looking for us?"

"There's no emergency, they were just curious where you were," replied Izzy.

Stede nodded. "We should probably get back, then. Or at least get off deck. Love," he said, moving his voice back into that hypnotic tone. He touched Ed's leg to refocus him. "Are you ready to come up out of trance for me?"

Ed took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good, I'll count to 5 then. It's just to guide you- I know you know how to come up at your own pace. Bring back any of this peace and calm that you want with you, ok?"

Stede started counting- his voice slowly gaining energy as he reminded Ed to connect back with his body and helped him reorient to the ship. It all didn't seem particularly magical to Izzy- but then again he rarely tried to understand Bonnet's ways anyway. Ed finally blinked his eyes open when Stede reached 5.

He blinked a few more times, adjusting. Then, his gaze lost it's bleariness as he looked adoringly up at Stede.

"Hi, there," said Stede, smiling gently. "Back with us, love?"

"Mmmmph mostly," said Ed, scritching his beard and stretching to rouse himself. He looked over at Izzy as though reminding himself he was there and smiled. "Heya, Izz!" Ed leaned up to kiss him.

Izzy grinned into their kiss. "Heya, Captain. Didn't want to interrupt your little daydream session. Crew was just looking for you."

"Ah, we missed dinner!" exclaimed Stede. "I should have asked Roach for..."

"Provisions for planning raids, I heard," smirked Izzy. "Yes, we're all very snowed by your clever euphemisms."

"Fuck provisions, I could eat a horse," said Ed. He practically bounced up and put an arm around both of his boyfriends. "C'mon, let's get some grub!"

Helpless to his whims as always, both of his partners joyfully followed him to dinner.

Fanfic is new to me so would love some thoughts! Also this is unbeta'd so will love you forever if you would point out spelling/grammar mistakes or if there's unclear writing. I'm considering posting this to AO3 but- don't want to embarrass myself in front of the REAL fanfic writers, you know? Feedback welcomed!

Tagging @mentat101posts and @thekinkycocktailclub .If you want to be tagged in these, just lmk!

Tagging @darthkyra @linnybeenaughty @pearlqueensposts @thiskenisftm @deeperforme because they wanted OFMD hypnokink and I blame/thank you for the inspiration to actually get this down!

[dracothelizard]

Obviously I want to write something for BottomStedeWeek (although every week is Bottom Stede Week as far as I'm concerned, Ed can do some occasional bottom as a treat.)

I went through my fic ideas list and spotted 'Fucking involving the fuckery harness somehow!' and that was agreat idea, past self!

Below is a bit of Ed strapping Stede into the harness. I spent a whole five minutes googling stunt harnesses.

Stede looks down, nodding along. “Yep!” He has his arms down, but still slightly raised to give Ed room to tug and arrange the straps.

Ed smiles at the tremble in Stede’s voice. “I thought you’d be used to have someone else put your clothes on,” he murmurs, and maybe he runs his hands down the various straps more than he needs to, and stands behind Stede to tug the leather down his back for a chance to brush his fingers against the top of his ass.

Stede shivers slightly. “Never wore clothes like these!”

Ed hums, then walks to stand in front of Stede again, taking the top strap and buckle, the one just above Stede’s nipples, in both hands. He looks Stede in the eye. They’re only inches apart now. “First time for everything, right?” He smirks as he slides the strap through the buckle, keeping his eyes on Stede’s.

“Yes,” Stede whispers.

Oh, this is promising. Ed looks at the strap, eyeing the series of holes. “It has to be tight.” He gives the strap a firm tug, and Stede grunts in front of him. “All right?” He buckles the strap, running his fingers along it. The black leather makes a nice contrast against the pristine shirt.

Stede’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Yes!”

The second strap runs just below Stede’s chest, and Ed can feel Stede tremble as he slides the strap through the buckle. “What do you think?” Ed asks quietly as he tugs on the strap to tighten it. “Tight enough?” He keeps his head down as if he’s studying the buckle, then looks at Stede through his lashes. “Or one more?”

“I can take more.” Stede licks his lips, cheeks flushed. “Do it.”

[selene-and-the-cold]

Sicktember post - Fuzzy Socks

Alright, so this next little ficlet was inspired by the Sicktember 2023 alternatvie prompt 2: "Fuzzy Socks".

Fandom: OF/MD

Characters: Sick!Stede and Caregiving Ed.

I know it is a bit silly, but the idea just wouldn't leave me alone, so bear with me, please.

Not betaed and I had to post it now before the courage left me again 😅

Fuzzy Socks Stockings

As a particularly harsh gust of wind hit the Revenge, Stede Bonnet pulled the blanket tighter around himself with a pathetic sniffle and huddled closer into the warm body of his co-captain, friend, and – dare he say it? - lover Edward Teach aka Blackbeard. They were both curled up next to each other in his bed, bodies entwined. If he were to commission another ship, Stede would make sure that the captain's bed was a bit more spacious than the one here on the Revenge.

It was all nice for sleeping here alone, and the view out of the windows was breathtaking. But on nights like these, when the cool draft crept in through the tiniest nooks and crannies, Stede regretted that the space was barely enough for two people to sleep in, let alone for additional bundles of thick, feather down blankets to be brought in against the chill.

With a sniffle, he pressed himself closer against Edward's warmth. Somehow, Stede had been cold all day, and even now, bundled up under his blanket, wearing his payama and dressing gown on top, he couldn't get warm.

“Hmmpff... Stede?,” Edward asked sleepily into the darkness, turning slightly so he could look at the blond man next to him. “What is it? Why aren't you asleep?”

“ssnniff I'm cold...”

“Cold?,” Ed raised an eyebrow, which was barely visible in the darkness. “You're wearing like.. three layers of the softest, plushes fabrics I've ever seen. Plus blankets.”

Stede gave an indignant little sniffle.

“I know, but it's still a touch chilly in here, don't you think?”

Edward was nothing short of turning into a boiled potato, but he refrained from pointing that out when he felt Stede shiver against him with a little whimper.

“You really are cold, aren't you?”

Stede nodded, then sniffled and suddenly ducked his head into Ed's shoulder to muffle a sneeze against it.

“Hmm... bless you,” Edward hummed, suddenly connecting the dots. He shifted, soft, silky fabric rustling between them as he readjusted his position so he could pull Stede closer. Stede immediately followed this unspoken invitation and huddled even closer, snaking his legs around Ed's and touching his feet to his.

“God, your feet are as cold as two dead fish!”

“ssnfff I knooow,” Stede whined, “I told you I'b cold... and as long as mby feet are cold, I cad't seem to get wa- hhhhahh?.... Hah'tSshhieww!! ... snfff warm.”

Edward chuckled. “Bless you! Sounds like there's some of that cold stuck in your nose as well.”

“Dod't mbake fun of mbe!,” Stede whined and buried his face in the folds of the fabric, ashamed of being this needy, shivering little pile next to his strong, never wavering counterpart.

“'m sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. Come now, try to get back to sleep...”

At that, Ed began to hum softly to his worked-up partner. While the melody was soothing, the text was quite an explicitly raunchy sea shanty, so Ed contented himself with humming the tune, while he stroked Stede's tousled hair and tried to wrap some of the blanket around Stede's feet with his own, creating a double layer of blanket around the other man's freezing feet. It was only when Ed could feel Stede's feet warm up that the other man calmed down and drifted back to sleep, leaving Edward to ponder in the darkness how he could make this cold more bearable for his partner in crime.

****

“Alright, crew, who of you can sew?” Ed demanded the next morning as the crew had gathered to receive their morning orders. Everybody was here – except Stede, whose cold and Edward had not allowed him to leave his chambers and insisted on him staying below deck.

The crew just looked at each other, mumbling indistinctly, shuffling their feet. Of course they all remembered their flag sewing

“Captain Blackbeard asked you a question, you filthy little sea urchins, so you better answer!”, Izzy chimed in, ever so helpful.

“Look, I know you've made the Revenge's proud pirate flags yourself. Your Captain told me. So come on, who knows how to sew things?,” Ed tried again, sneaking in a bit of flattery to wear down the crew's resistance.

“Well... Roach sewed up his shoulder once,” Lucius commented, only for Roach to proudly reveal the scar running down from his shoulder to his armpit.

Ed looked at it with a slow nod. “That's... impressive, but not the kind of sewing I had in mind. Thank you, though. The thing I had in mind rather involved actual fabric. Anyone?”

Ed scanned the crew expectantly, then someone mumbled: “Oluwande's quite good...”

What followed was nodding and approving noises all around. Oluwande just rolled his eyes.

“Perfect! Follow me, I have a special mission for you to accompany me on.”

Oluwande heaved a silent sigh. He knew that there was no escaping this – whatever it was – but he hated being singled out like this. Therefore, he dragged his feet following an elated Ed below deck.

“Come on now, move! You won't get an extra invitation, Blackbeard won't ask you twice! Either you follow him or you're going straight in the ocean to feed the sharks!,” Izzy bellowed, hiding the fact that he had no idea what his boss had planned behind a generous round of aggressive shouting.

As the shouting continued on deck, Oluwande was less and less mad about getting to leave the shouting Izzy behind to follow Ed into the heart of the ship. They stayed clear of the captain's quarters, from where a few miserable sneezes could be heard even from afar.

Instead, they turned towards the storage room of the ship, where several random items were piled in a heap on the floor. Next to a few barrels and a makeshift table, a pile of fabric lay forgotten, together with some of the flag designs that had not quite made it to the finishing line.

Edward led Oluwande straight to that pile, then turned to him and said: “Sewing. I want you to teach me.”

“T-teach you?,” Oluwande asked, then suddenly found himself face to face with Blackbeard's gun.

“You heard me. And you'd better not breathe a word to anybody about this, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Now, talk me through these fabrics here.”

The two men scoured the pile of fabrics and materials, touching and stretching, and comparing different fabrics, until they came across a weird looking, fuzzy tassel.

“What's that supposed to be?,” Edward asked, ruffling the weirdly soft thing with his hands.

“That,” Oluwande declared, chest swelling with pride, “is my flag extender.”

“Your what?”

“A flag extender. It was meant to be sewn to the bottom of the flag to flap in the wind, but I didn't have time to finish it.”

“It feels kind of weird.. a bit.. tingly and fuzzy... but also very soft,” Ed stated, still running the fluffy odd-shaped thing through his hand. “How did you get it to be so.. fuzzy?”

“Oh, that was actually pretty easy! I just took lots and lots of these tiny strings of yarn over there and bound them together with a knot. Then you take a comb and comb through the yarn to fuzz out the ends until they are all fuzzy and soft. And when you're done, you cut them all to the same size to get that nice, fluffy feeling. Almost like that long, soft carpet in the captain's cabin.”

As Oluwande explained, Edward kept running the soft object through his hands, nodding. At first he only nodded once to show that he was listening, then the nodding slowly continued as an idea took shape in Ed's mind, until a wide grin spread across his face and he finally clapped Oluwande's shoulders with both hands.

“That's it!,” Ed exclaimed excitedly, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “Now, get me all of that yarn you have...”

* * *

Several hours later, long after sunset, Edward returned to the captain's quarters to find a pouting Stede in bed, huddled under two layers of blankets, hugging a pillow. He sat up as Ed came over to him.

“Ed! Snfff where hahhh-... hahhave.. you be.. hhehheen... Hehh'kttsSSHISSSH!.. all day?!”

Stede's voice lost some of its accusing tone as the question fizzled out into a wet, itchy sneeze. Stede just gave a long, stretched-out sniffled as he rummaged around the folds of the blankets until he found a crumpled handkerchief and brought it to his streaming pink nose.

“I have beed mbiserable id here all day and you ndever as mbuch as stopped by for tea!”

Stede dabbed at his pink nose again, head turned to the side, lips in a proud little pout.

Ed grinned. “I'm sorry. Skipping tea time was, of course, an unpardonable lapse on my part. But that's what you get for sharing a bed with a pirate, my mate. We are rough and uncouth and don't give a fuck about tea time.”

Stede just blinked rapidly, fiddling around with the collar of his robe. “Well, I thought that perhaps you mbight give a fuck about mbe...” Stede tried to sound nonchalant, but the way his voice was just a pitch higher than usual betrayed that he was hurt.

“Aww.. now Stede, come on, you know I care a lot about you! I'm sorry. There was some.. unexpected business I had to take care of. You'll see soon enough,” Ed promised, then added with a mischievous glow in his eyes: “It's a surprise.”

Stede's face immediately lit up at these words. “A surprise? What surprise?!”

His gaze met Ed, who looked like the cat that got the cream, smiling from ear to ear.

“It's in here.”

He produced a small little parcel out of one of the many pockets of his leather jacket. It looked crumpled, but Stede took it eagerly as Edward handed it to him, his eyes not just glossy with fever, but also with excitement.

“For mbe?”

“Of course! Now, open it,” Ed encouraged as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Stede, who opened the little parcel with nimble fingers, his rings sparkling in he candlelight.

At first, Stede was all smiles, but when he pulled one of his own old pairs of stockings from the parcel, his smile faded, leaving a confused expression on Stede's face.

“The surprise is... mby own stockings?,” Stede asked flatly, sounding even less amused than he had been at the start of their conversation.

“No!,” Ed protested, “Well, technically, yes, but I enhanced them. They aren't just your regular run-of-he-mill stockings anymore. They have been... piratified! Blackbeardified! I'm not sure about the word, yet, but the important thing is: I made some improvements! Look!”

Ed took the stockings from a confused Stede and turned them inside out. Instead of the usual white fabric, a myriad of tiny fuzzy tassels was sewn to the inside, lining the stockings to add an extra layer of warm, fuzzy material.

“I present to you: fuzzy stockings! To keep your feet warm all night!”

Stede looked at the stockings, then at Ed, then back at the stockings, before he flung both arms around Ed's neck and hugged him tight.

“Oh Edward, they are wonderful! What a thoughtful gift! But how... where... where did you get those?”

“I made 'em. Been sewing those fuzzy bits on all day!”

As if to prove his point, he showed Stede his fingers, which bore more than one little injury from where Edward had accidentally poked the needle into his fingers instead of into the fabric.

“Oh Edward, that's the best gift I've ever.. hehh.. ever.. HekttssSSHiH!!” Stede hastily brought up the wide sleeve of his dressing gown to sneeze into.

“Bless you. I'm glad you like it. Come, I'll help you put them on.”

With that, Edward took one of the stockings and helped Stede to slip them on his foot. As he did, Stede giggled and writhed slightly. “What?” Ed asked.

“Sorry, these fuzzy bits tickle a little bit,” Stede admitted, a slight blush creeping on his cheeks, “but only as you pull the stockings od. Ondce they are id place, it's so mbarvelously warmb.”

Ed gave a warm-hearted chuckle, then slipped the second stocking on Stede's other foot, which was once more accompanied by a squeaky giggle until the stockings were in place.

Once he was sure Stede was all nice and warm and cozy, Edward undressed, shedding the stern leather to slip into the silky warmth that was Stede's presence. Stede immediately scooted closer, wrapping his legs around Edward once again, soaking up his partner's warmth.

“How is that?,” Edward asked, pulling Stede into a warm hug, gently rubbing his stockinged feet.

“Mbuch better! Thank you again, Edward.”

“You're welcome, my love.”

[littleoddwriter]

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman  

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher  

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

[brigdh]

for the WIP ask meme: would love a sneak peek of "Ed incompently comforting Stede"

The WIP meme!

Thank you!

I was having a discussion about how, too often, in fic Ed and Stede are both excellent at knowing the exactly correct therapy-speak thing to say to each other, whereas in canon they're more likely to fumble and misunderstand and get things wrong at first. And I really want more of the second version!

So I wrote a little thing where comfort is difficult but they get there in the end. The set-up is that Stede experienced some sort of sexual harassment from bullies as a child (I didn't bother to figure out the details, so it's all left vague), and has told Ed about it, but Ed didn't grasp how much it affected Stede at first, since Stede was doing his usual self-deprecating thing. I'll post the whole thing below, because this is one of my abandoned drawerfics; I didn't want to write out any of that setup or the climax afterwards, so the only part of the story that exists is the comfort itself. Also this is set in a vague post-S1 reconciliation period.

(Extremely minor noncon mentions)

Ed opens his eyes to darkness, at first not quite sure why he’s awake. After a moment, he hears it again – a soft, muffled sound, like a gasp or a sob. 

Ed sits up and peers over the back of the settee. It’s dark in the captain’s (captains’, now) cabin, but the bed is up against a pane of windows and he can make out the silhouette of Stede’s form, curled up into a small ball, shoulders shaking. 

Ed’s by the side of the bed in an instant. “Stede, mate,” he says in a whisper, “what’s the matter? Bad dream?”

“Oh, Ed! Nothing’s the matter, you don’t need to bother–"

“Yeah, I think I fucking do. You’re crying.”

“Nope, no. Me, crying? Nah. Probably an owl.”

Ed pauses, the covers held up to slide beneath and one leg already on the bed. “An owl.”

“Mm-hm!”

“Stede, we’re a hundred miles from land and you’re telling me I heard an owl.”

“Could be an albatross, then!”

Ed remains frozen in place long enough to hear what is definitely a sniffle, then stands up and slaps the covers back into place. “Sure, whatever. Just fucking lie right to my face, then, s’not like I fucking care." Technically Stede hasn’t, since he’s still curled up facing the windows, but Ed isn’t about to give him a pass for that reason.  

“Ed!” Stede sits up and twists around, but Ed is already stomping back to the settee. “It is nothing, really, I was just being foolish–"

Ed throws himself onto the settee, where at least the back is high enough that he doesn’t have to look at Stede, or watch Stede not looking at him. “Bet if I fetched the boy Stede would tell him,” he says entirely to himself in what is not a pointedly loud tone. “Bet he knows all the right fancy words to say because he’s not a stupid pirate.”

“Ed, please, don’t wake anyone else up. I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to hear me.”

“I bet you’d tell your fucking wife!”

There’s a silence in the cabin then, one that seems to ring with Ed’s shout. It’s broken only by a very quiet sniffle.

Shit. Shit. Ed’s heart sinks. Shit. That was definitely too far. He’s so bad at this. Very slowly, feeling like absolute trash, he raises his head and peeks over the top of the settee. Stede’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare feet brushing the floor. He’s got a sheet drawn around him like an improvised robe, and he’s staring down at his lap.

“‘M sorry,” Ed whispers.

Stede simultaneously shrugs and nods, which seems like they cancel each other out, leaving Ed with no idea what it means. Stede scrubs at his face with one fist, draws a deep breath, then puts his shoulders back. “Yes, well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell Mary, actually.” 

Ed swallows. That should be enough, should satisfy him, but he really wants to know. He’s greedy, when it comes to Stede. “Didn’t tell her what?”

Stede pulls the sheet tighter around his shoulders. “The, the thing. That happened. I did tell you. I haven’t been trying to keep secrets, Ed. Even though I know it shouldn’t matter so much, I know I’m being childish and foolish and weak-willed, but-"

“Stede. What thing? What are you talking about?” Ed pulls himself fully upright to lean over the back of the settee, but he doesn’t go back over to the bed, as much as his skin itches with wanting to touch Stede. He’s afraid closing the space between them will break the spell. 

Stede cringes, his shoulders going up and his face lowering even further down. “The sex thing,” he says, quietly enough that Ed can barely make out the words. “You know. When – when it was bad.” 

“That’s why you’re crying?”

Stede looks sharply to the side, chin up and held tight. “You don’t need to say anything about it. I’m already aware that I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Who says it shouldn’t bother you?” Ed lets his fingers dig into the upholstery of the settee and his voice go cool, ready to destroy whoever’s been upsetting Stede.  

Stede whips around to stare at him. “You did!”

“What?” Ed rears back in surprise. “No, I didn’t!”

“You said it happened all the time! You said it was common!”

“I meant you weren’t alone!” Ed draws in a shaky breath, trying to claim back control over himself. “Fuck, Stede, lots of fucked-up things happen all the time. Lots of common things are just – fucking terrible, mate.”

Stede is silent for a long moment. Ed wants him to say something, but at least he can make out enough of Stede’ silhouette to see it’s gone a bit softer, no longer looking like he’s so stiff that he might snap into two. Finally, Stede says quietly, “Well, I’m sure none of the others are still crying about a thing that happened over thirty years ago.”

Ed thinks about Jack, who used to have nightmares whenever he went to sleep sober. He never said what they were about, but he’d whimper behind clenched teeth and thrash hard enough to dump Ed out of their shared hammock, and one time when Ed sneaked up behind him, Jack had nearly gutted him before he realized who it was. He thinks about a whore he’d been fond of for a while, visiting her every time they stopped in Port Royal. Sometimes when Ed arrived, she’d have bruises. Not on her hips or thighs, which might just have been evidence of too good of a time – Ed’d had those sorts of bruises himself – but a black eye, or a split lip, or once a dark ring around her upper arm. He’d asked about that one, and she’d just shown him her teeth, more of a snarl than a smile. The nights she had bruises, he paid her just to let him sleep in her bed – which he did sometimes anyway – and left her extra coin in the morning and they didn’t talk about it. And then one time he went back and she was gone and no one would say where.

Ed thinks about how small the house he’d grown up in was, and the noises he’d hear at night sometimes from his parents’ bed. He hadn’t know what it meant, at the time, but looking back his mom’s smile on the mornings after now made him sick to his stomach.

“Maybe it’d have been better if they did cry,” Ed says. 

Stede just shakes his head.

“Look, man, aren’t we supposed to be doing this shit together, now?” Ed tries. 

“Important things,” Stede says. “Not my silly little problems.”

Ed gets up and moves partway to the bed. He’s wearing a nightshirt Stede gave him, which he’s got to admit is more comfortable for sleeping than his leathers, but there’s no pockets and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to put them on Stede, but he thinks it’s not the right time for that, not yet, maybe not ever if he can’t figure out where Stede’s head is at. “You hold me, when I cry,” Ed says. “’S nice.” 

It’s more than nice; the last time Ed was sobbing and howling into Stede’s shoulder, it had felt like Stede’s grasp was the only thing keeping him breathing through it, like if Stede had let go Ed might have just been done for. It’s part of the reason Ed forgave him so quickly, far quicker than he’d meant to. But he was pretty sure if he’d had to cry alone one more time it might have literally killed him, and he wanted Stede to hold him so badly that he’d have done anything for it, and so in the end it was goodbye, Ed’s pride, hello, Stede’s arms. 

But he doesn’t need to say that. He’s already being enough of a clingy bastard tonight. “Okay, so, you don’t want me to hold you. Or talk about it. Great, got that. But don’t you – don’t you want anything from me, man?” Ed bites back a groan at himself; yeah, real well done with the not sounding needy. 

Stede looks up at him, and they’re at just enough of an angle to one another that his eyes catch a flash of moonlight and Ed can see them, wet and bright and dark, and it sends another jolt of longing through his chest.  “Ed, I just – I want to be enough for you. I want to be strong, to be a real partner for you.” His voice goes thin, unshed tears tightening his throat. “I’m so afraid that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“Fuck, Stede.” Ed can’t hold back; he clambers onto the bed and grabs Stede’s face in both hands and kisses him all over it, peppering his forehead and cheeks and the damp corners of his eyes with short little pecks. “I love you so fucking much, you don’t even fucking know how much, it’s just ridiculous. I want all of you, okay? I want every fucking thing. I want the bad shit and the embarrassing shit and the shit that makes you burn up with shame. I want it.”

Stede huffs a shaky laugh and tucks his face into Ed’s neck. “I’m going to get snot on your nightshirt,” he warns.

“Love that. Fucking great, snot. Gimme all the snot you got, man, I want that too.” Ed digs his fingers into Stede’s hair and holds him tightly in place, feeling Stede’s hot wet breaths against his skin.  

It takes a while for Stede to cry, though he'd seemed close to tears a moment ago. Ed pulls him in and Stede lets him, even curls up a bit to lean against Ed's chest, but his body’s still tense, nowhere near pliant. They sit like that in silence for several minutes. 

The first sob is loud and harsh, sounds like it's ripped from Stede's throat, but right after he goes quiet again. It takes Ed a second to realize that he's working so hard to contain the tears that he's stopped breathing, every muscle on him gone rigid with the effort of keeping control. His lungs can't hold on for long, of course, and soon another rough sound escapes - more of a gasp than a sob, really - before Stede clamps down again. It goes on like that, individual sobs that fight their way out between taut silences. Ed presses his hand down on Stede's scalp and puts his other arm around his back, holding on as tightly as he can. He gets a leg up on the bed behind Stede, presses that into him too, folding as much of his body as he can manage around Stede's, wishing he could entirely envelop him, keep him safe and secret from the rest of the world.

Stede's staccato crying gradually gets the better of him, the gasps coming closer and closer together until they blend into steady weeping. Ed holds him through it, muttering shit that doesn’t mean much but that he hopes sounds good anyway – “I got you” and “let it out” and “you’re okay”. He clings hard to Stede like Ed’s the one on the verge of being swept away, though Stede doesn’t cling back; Stede keeps his hands to himself, one half-covering his own mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his sounds. Ed tries not to let that bother him. It helps that it’s his shirt collar that’s soaking up Stede’s tears, sticking against his skin as the cloth grows damp and then wet. 

***

[snormynight]

Last night I binged all of OF//MD. I cannot believe what I was missing out on. But now I get a short wait time for S2 heehee. Anyway please accept my drabble.

The Salt in the air dips down and swirls around on the deck with the wind, and the deck in turn creaks in time with the gentle bob of the sea. The ocean is void of activity, lucky for the crew who lay about with their various activities and luckier for their captains, who are nestled together in the berth below.

The air wafts in through the open window, entangling itself with Ed’s bountiful locks. He’s propped up on the bed, supporting his head with one hand while the other runs through his boyfriend's own tufts of hair. Stede Bonnet is laid out flat on his back, chest rising and falling with a low crackle in his breath. He sleeps with a small pout to his lips and a crease between his eyebrows. He's waxy and sallow, and yet, Ed’s own breath catches at his beauty. He's worried, really he is, but there's something so peaceful here, hidden away from the rest of the crew. Ed is almost grateful for the excuse. Almost.

He's broken out of his lovesick daze when Stede starts to squirm against the sheets, inhaling a shaky breath through his mouth. He groans pitifully, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes. The other fumbles around for something. Ed catches it, rubbing a thumb across Stedes hand gently. Stede rolls over toward him, longing to be close and places it in Ed’s lap. The man smiles down at the poorly one.

“How are we then, Stede?” 

Stede is rarely silent, but he almost considers a vow today. He feels like he's drowning, in his head at least, and he tries to sniff to alleviate the pressure there. It's soupy and thick; does nothing for him except grate along the walls of his nostrils. He lugs himself into an upright position and his nose starts to run. He only gets a squinty, too-bright-to-see glance at his boyfriend before his eyes snap shut, and he gasps for another breath, this time involuntarily.

“eh-hih! HeHnxt! Hep-chuh!!”

He thinks he's done and sniffs long and hard, only to gurgle as the pressure builds again. Surely he's setting himself up for failure later.

“I'm fine,” he says, struggling to sound even remotely chipper. “I reckon i'll be right as rain soon enough.”

Ed smirks, doubting the validity in that statement and brings his cool thumbs up to rest on top of Stede’s sore eyelids,rubbing his temples gently with his other appendages. Stede sighs, mouth going slack and the pressure in his head recedes a little. He brings his shaky hands up to rest on the sturdy wrists there. 

His nose starts to quiver once more and Stede tries to scrunch his face up to stave off a sneeze. His grip tightens on Ed's wrists as his chest heaves and he ultimately has to duck his head down away from Ed's fingers to avoid drenching the man’s face.

 “ehttcheh-huh! Htchssh! hah-achshiew!”

Stede moans and slumps down, anchored by the weight of his sickness. Ed grips his biceps gently, straightening him into a more upright position, eyeing him fondly.

“Yeah, I'm thinking later rather than sooner” he tsks.

Stede just shivers in response. He's extra cognizant of Ed's hands on his arms and it's taking all his strength to not just collapse into him, begging to be held. He knows Ed needs to divert attention to more pirat-ey things. What those things are? He doesn't know. Just that this can't be the most pressing matter to him now.

The words are tumbling out of him before he can stop himself, “don't you have a crew to tend to?”

Ed shrugs. “silence, while worrying, doesn’t have to mean anything. Unless you make it something. Then I suppose it is.”

Stede swallows. Neediness and drowsiness crash into each other like waves on the sea. “Am I something?”

Ed blinks languidly. He acts so Stede doesn't have to, pulling him in and cradling him to his chest. Stede lets out a puff of air as he utterly deflates in Ed’s arms. He wants to bring his arms up to hold him, to meet him halfway, but he's beginning to melt, lulling himself with the ocean again and Ed’s heartbeat. Ed’s fingers are threading through his hair once more. 

“You're everything.”