#and stede pulled it out and he held it so gently..

[bugboybutter]

“you wear fine things well” will forever be the most tender thing anyone’s ever said ever. it’s everything

[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.”

[dranna]

Sinking

AO3 / Commissions / Links /

Warnings: none(?), not beta read, fluff

Summary: Ed was sinking deep into the darkness of the cold ocean. A certain merman comes to his rescue.

a/n: I haven’t seen the new episodes yet(!), but saw gifs and little parts of the show on tumblr (oh dear) I couldn't get merman Stede out of my head, so wrote this short one shot ~ I’m basically writing this while on the train, so I’m sorry for grammatical mistakes

tags my beloveds: @giosnape (let me know if you would like to be tagged:) )

It’s the fucking end innit?

Seeing mermaids and shit.

Ed was sinking deeper and deeper into the vastness,

Of dark nothingness,

He was under heavy covers of water,

Suffocating by its iron hands.

He was weightless in this stillness,

Floating in emptiness,

Silence was mixed with muffled noises,

Impossible to locate these responses,

Endless shadows were towering,

Around him,

From every direction possible.

The only hope was fading from his eyes,

As he got farther away from the warm light.

His lonely landscape,

Was interrupted by an other living,

He was effortlessly sinking towards him,

Bringing the sun’s reflections with him,

From the gloominess Ed was in,

The other looked a magical being,

Clothed in gold light and warmth.

He gently held his arms,

And started to drag,

Him towards life upstairs.

He was half man and fish,

With a beautiful tail,

For lower body,

I’m losing my fucking mind,

I’m dreaming about a mermaid saving my ass.

Faster and faster they swam,

The merman putting him in the Light again,

With a sudden move,

He pushed Ed up,

Above the dark ocean.

The previous silence was replaced,

With the screaming of the wind,

Singing of the birds,

And the soothing sound of waves.

Ed was drinking in the air,

Like a starving man,

Water in a desert.

After all this adrenaline,

He felt his body gave in,

And sinking back into nothingness.

The merman pulled him towards the shore,

Tenderly placing his unconscious form.

“Please wake up!”

— He was shaking him,

But to no avail,

He still sleeped on frighteningly,

“Please come back to me!”

— Still no response,

Only cold stillness,

As a last resort,

He started to sing,

His beautiful melody,

Which can ruin,

But also heal.

His voice seemed to work,

Bringing colour back,

To blue cheeks,

Slowly he opened his eyes,

Warm brown irises fell,

Into light blue ones.

A sweet kiss was placed,

Upon Ed’s scared forehead,

Before he could register what happened,

The merman was among the waves again,

Looking back at him,

With an adored smile on his lips.

“I’m Stede by the way:)”

— With a dramatic bow he left,

Descending into the blueness.

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 27

“Can you fucking believe that? He didn’t even say he was sorry, he just hopped around it like we were too stupid to notice!”

Mo paced back and forth across the deck, gesturing wildly in their anger. Izzy sat on the railing of the main deck, his bad leg propped up as he methodically carved a small piece of wood.

Izzy nodded, not looking up from his work. “’Course I believe it,” he said levelly. “What were you expecting, love? A tearful apology?” He glanced up at his partner when they huffed, only growing angrier by the second. “I don’t know,” they admitted, scowling as they threw their hands in the air. “Don’t know if I expected anything, but I guess I assumed the words ‘I’m sorry’ would be in there somewhere because Stede said he wanted us to gather to hear Edward’s apology.” They scoffed. “Pretty sure I’m not the asshole in this situation.”

Izzy sighed wearily, stilling his hands as he watched them pace, their agitation not easing.

“You’re not the fuckin’ asshole,” he said, sounding exhausted. “Now would you stop pacing? You’re just going to wear yourself out. You’ll need new boots by the time we dock at the rate you’re going.”

Mo frowned, their gaze fixed down at the deck as they shook their head. “Sorry, Iz. Can’t stop. Got too many thoughts right now. If I stop, I’ll need to do something else, and this is the least destructive thing I can think of at the moment.” They turned, their brow furrowing as they regarded their partner.

“How in the hell are you taking this so well?” they asked suspiciously. They slowed their pacing, moving closer to him and watching as he calmly sliced slivers off the chunk of wood he held.

Izzy shrugged. “You get used to it after a while,” he said levelly. “You know how many people have apologized to me since I’ve been at sea?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Not many, my love. Mostly you, actually.” A small smile pulled at his lips as he glanced at his partner.

Mo frowned, their arms crossing over their chest as they came to a stop, leaning against the railing next to him, unable to stop their foot from tapping rapidly against the deck. “Well, that doesn’t mean it’s right,” they said stubbornly. “He should still be held accountable for his actions. Fucking everyone should. There’s no growth without repercussions.”

Izzy gave no sign that he heard them, other than a quiet hum.

“Seriously,” they asked, placing their hand on his thigh, running their thumb over his knee, “aren’t you upset at him? He fucking shot you, Iz, you deserve to be angry at him.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter as much to me anymore,” he admitted gruffly. He looked up as Mo gave him a confused look, finally setting aside his whittling. “I’m mad he shot me,” he said wearily, holding their gaze levelly. “Mad I lost my fuckin’ leg because of him and his stupid suicide mission. But I don’t need to focus on him anymore.” He corners of his lips upturned. “I have a new focus now. Besides,” he said, returning to his work, “shouldn’t let grief or anger get in the way of living.��

Mo nodded reluctantly. “Guess you have a point there,” they admitted quietly. They squeezed his thigh. “When’d you get so fucking wise, Israel? Did that happen when I was away?”

Izzy huffed a small laugh. “Always been wise, darling.” He smirked, his gaze fixed down as he whittled. “You know, you’re not as different as you’d think. You and Edward,” he said casually, glancing up from his work to gauge his partner’s reaction. His smirk grew as he watched them flounder for words, their shock momentarily derailing their anger.

“Wha-what the fuck does that mean?” they demanded, gently nudging him as they pushed off the railing, once again unable to resist their urge to pace. They desperately needed to burn through some energy, to do something to calm down. “I am nothing like that prick. I would never do the kind of shit he did here, even if the unspeakable happened.” They glared at Izzy, daring him to contradict them.

“Never said you would,” he said levelly, sheathing his knife before carefully standing up. He laced his fingers together loosely, letting his arms hang in front of him as he leaned against the railing. “You’re better than him,” he promised, watching them intently. “Don’t mean to imply otherwise. Just noticed a few common traits. Don’t think either of you realize how similar you really are.”

Mo scowled, crossing their arms over their chest, finally coming to a stop in front of him. “And what would those be?” they asked roughly. “Our common traits?”

Izzy grinned. “Well, you’re both defensive, for one.” He chuckled when they scoffed. “Both have a flair for the dramatic,” he continued, “and both of you are guarded about your past.”

Mo snorted. “Like you’re not,” they muttered under their breath, their foot tapping rapidly against the deck.

“You’re both short tempered,” he said, looking at them pointedly. “Both need to move when you’re agitated. And when you’re caught off guard or overwhelmed, you both want to fight through your problems.”

They frowned. “Yeah, but I’d never do this,” this insisted, kicking their boot idly. “I’ll fight a bloke, sure, but I usually ask first, not just grab whoever’s nearest and start torturing. And I’d never cause lasting damage, even if I was upset. I’d never cut off extremities or-”

“You’d never shoot someone,” Izzy interrupted, a calming smile on his face. “Mo, I know. You’re not him. You work on your issues for one,” he said with a breathy laugh, “and you have limits. Edward lost most of his a while ago. Don’t know if he has any left, other than not to hurt Bonnet.” A smile flickered across Izzy’s face. “You have some of his good qualities too,” he continued, his tone gentler.

Mo twisted on their feet, turning from side to side and using the repetitive motion to soothe their irritation. They felt like they’d been hit in the chest, all the wind knocked out of them as they listened to the ways they reminded their lover of Blackbeard.

“Yeah?” they said weakly, tearing their gaze off the deck to glance at him.

Izzy shifted, pushing himself off the railing as he walked towards them. He gently held onto their arms, his head lowered as he tried to catch their eye. “Yeah, love,” he said humorously, smiling softly. “You’re smart, and quick on your feet. Funny too, when you’re not being an ass.” Mo laughed weakly, finally looking up at their grinning partner. He moved a hand up their arm, coming to rest on their shoulder as his thumb brushed against their neck. They couldn’t help but let their muscles relax under his touch.

“You know people, how to talk to them. Could befriend a fuckin’ squid if you had enough time.” They smirked at his teasing tone, resting their hands on his hips. “You’ve got that…whimsy that everyone on this ship does. You can find the joy in anything, some way to have fun.” Izzy smiled softly. “Always envied that in Ed,” he admitted, his thumb running over their jaw absentmindedly. “Never really knew how to find good in things. Not until you, anyway.” He sighed quietly, a content sound as he looked at them, his dark eyes soft. “You make it easier.”

Mo couldn’t help but smile softly. “Glad to be of help,” they said quietly, wishing they could freeze this moment. What they would give to stay like this forever, to live a life of these moments with Izzy.

They grinned slowly, unable to stop the small chuckle that escaped them as their head leaned forward, their forehead resting against his chest.

“What?” he asked, already laughing as he ran his hand up their back.

Mo laughed, unable to raise their head to look up at him. “I guess I just always saw myself more like Stede,” they admitted quietly, grinning even as Izzy groaned dramatically.

“Oh, fuck off with that,” he said, no real venom behind it. “I would not fall in love with a Stede Bonnet.”

They grinned, pulling back enough to look at him. “Guess that makes you Stede then,” they said carefully. Izzy rolled his eyes, cupping their cheek as he pressed his forehead to theirs.

“Neither of us are that flouncy twat,” he said firmly. A small smile flickered across his lips, his gaze softening as he watched them, still laughing to themselves. “You’re lucky I love you,” he continued, his voice lilted humorously. “If anyone else had the gall to call me Stede fuckin’ Bonnet, they’d be in the ocean by now.”

Mo giggled, lacing their arms behind his head, resting their hands on the back of his neck. “I know,” they said cheekily. “And I am very grateful for your infinite patience for me.” They grinned as Izzy leaned forward, their hands coming up to gently hold his head as he kissed them. When they parted, they couldn’t help but giggle again.

“Guess no one else would get a kiss for calling you Stede either,” they said quietly. They laughed as Izzy grumbled, dropping his head to rest on their shoulder with an exasperated sigh. They ran their fingers through his hair, holding the first mate close. “I am lucky,” they said, still chuckling as they pressed a kiss to his temple. “And not just because you put up with my jokes.”

Mo was able to avoid Edward for most of the day, leaving a room when he’d enter or glaring at him when he looked at them too long, looking like he was considering approaching them. Only Lucius seemed to share their concerns, holding a grudge against their former co-captain for his near death experience and everything that followed it. The two were relieved to have someone else aboard who took issue with Edward, especially after his lackluster apology attempt in which he took no responsibility for his actions or the harm he had caused. The rest of the crew seemed to accept his presence fairly easily, even those he had kept almost as hostages for those horrible weeks of separation. Archie, Jim, and Oluwande were able to goof off together as they swabbed the deck, and Frenchie was finding joy in stitching together a new flag for the ship, one of his own design. When Mo asked him his thoughts on Edward staying, he shrugged.

“It is what it is, babe,” he said, not taking his eyes off his project, the large bit of fabric laid across a table in the galley. “Just glad to have Ed back.”

Mo frowned, tousling his hair and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Agree to disagree,” they said. “I’ll be right back, love. I want to show you something.” They returned a few minutes later, holding a stack of papers.

“What’s that?” Frenchie asked, holding his needle between his lips as he looked over at them.

Mo sank into a seat at the table next to him, placing the papers on the table and sliding it towards him with a smile.

“It’s letters,” they said simply, watching with a grin as he set aside his work, giving them a questioning look as he picked up a piece of paper.

Frenchie grinned, looking at them in amazement. “For me?” He laughed when they nodded, flicking through the pages with glee.

“You left me notes,” Mo explained with a grin. “Figured I could return the favor and give these to you when I found you. Mine aren’t as good as yours, but I tried, and I figured you’d still like them, even if they do look like they were drawn by a monkey.”

Frenchie chuckled. “Yeah, well you were right,” he said, still not looking up as he shuffled through the papers. “About me liking them, I mean, not them looking like they were drawn by a monkey.” He frowned slightly, lifting his head as he thought. “Maybe a cursed monkey, but not a regular one.” He shook his head, thumbing through the pages again as he grinned to himself.

“No one’s ever given me letters before,” he said quietly. “Figures, since I can’t read. But look!” He held up a paper, showing them a crude drawing they had done of the two of them, standing on the Revenge with goofy smiles drawn on their faces. “I get this!” he proudly proclaimed, grinning ear to ear. “I know what you meant, clear as day, and it’s not just ‘cause we have the same brain!”

Mo laughed, relieved that he could tell what they were going for. They would never expect him to be mean about a gift, but it was comforting nonetheless to see him react with such genuine joy.

“I’m glad you like them,” they said honestly, leaning against his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure my point would come across with a lot of them, but I wanted to try.” They sighed. “Wanted to be able to bring you back a souvenir of some kind,” they said quietly, watching his nimble fingers shuffle through the drawings, “but I couldn’t find anything worth stealing that I could carry. Matt didn’t have anything worthwhile on him, just a few coins he probably stole from someone, but I had to use those to pay for food to get back to the Republic.” Mo propped their chin on his shoulder. “Next time we dock though, you can bet your ass you’re getting a present,” they declared with a grin.

Frenchie laughed, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. “Ahh, you know you don’t have to get me anything,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Being your mate is enough.”

“Best mate,” Mo corrected.

He nodded. “My mistake. Bestest mate in the world,” he said, nodding towards them.

Mo shrugged, giving him a sympathetic look. “You’re still getting a gift. Not as a form of payment or anything like that,” they added, “just because you’re my best friend and I love you.” They laughed, shaking their head as they thought. “Oh boy, if I was rich, you and Izzy would be so spoiled,” they said. “Maybe even more than me.”

Frenchie laughed. “Yeah, imagine that,” he said. “Kept man Izzy Hands. A proper housewife, that bloke.”

Mo grinned at the thought. “Don’t think that’ll ever happen, even if we robbed the King and Queen themselves,” they said, chuckling. “I love that man, but my gods is he stubborn. Not to mention that it’s almost impossible to get him to just sit still, even for ten fucking minutes. Take away his work and he’d go insane.”

“Yeah, but he’d do it for you.” Frenchie said, smirking playfully as he nudged them. “You know he would.”

They smiled, dropping their head bashfully. “Yeah,” they said quietly, giving a reluctant nod. “He probably would.” They looked up, still unable to meet their friend’s eye as he grinned. “I’d still never ask him to be a ‘kept man’,” they continued insistently, “let alone a housewife. Having him as my husband will be more than enough.”

Frenchie’s eyes widened, one hand darting up to cover his mouth as the other gripped their shoulder tightly. They stiffened at his grip, turning to face his with a confused expression.

“Mo Berch,” he said quietly, almost conspiratorially even as a grin spread across his face, “are you…are you planning to propose to him?”

Mo blushed, their face burning as they turned red. “I didn’t mean now,” they protested, their voice hushed. “I mean, Izzy wouldn’t be ready, and we’re still adjusting to being back together. We need to finish fixing up the ship and figure out what’s going on with Edward before even thinking about anything else.”

Frenchie nudged them, grinning widely. “Answer the question,” he urged, his eyes wide.

They sighed wearily, unable to fight off their own grin even as they rolled their eyes. “Fine,” they said lowly, as if admitting a great secret, trailing their fingers over their friend's neat stitching. “Yes, I’m going to marry that man. Someday,” they added with a pointed look. “But please don’t say anything to anyone. Roach is already joking about it, and I don’t want Izzy to have any pressure from the crew, one way or the other.” They frowned, finally meeting their friend’s gaze. “You know he gets weird when other people expect something from him. I really don’t want this to be something he gets weird about.”

Frenchie nodded solemnly, crossing his heart quickly, his eyes shining brightly. “Don't know what you're worried about though. Everyone already knows,” he said, frowning lightly. He laughed when they frowned, clearly taken aback. “You two aren’t subtle,” he pointed out teasingly, bumping his shoulder against theirs. “Always together, always smilin' when you’re near each other. Not to mention how casual he is with you. He’s usually tighter than a clam, but he practically melts when you’re around.” He snorted. “I’d feel bad for him if you didn’t propose. Poor bloke is clearly hopelessly in love with you.”

Mo smiled, blushing again as they looked down at their hands. “I take it that means he has your blessing then?" They asked, glancing up at him hopefully. "You wouldn’t mind having him as basically a brother-in-law?”

He beamed, taking their hand in his own and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’d love to have him in the family,” he assured them. “Didn’t go through all that effort hidin’ him away because I didn’t like him. And he makes you happy,” he said, nudging them gently. “That’s the most important thing. If he’s good enough for you, he’s good enough for me.”

Mo smiled, leaning against their tall friend again. “That’s good,” they said. “Because I don’t think there’s a force in the world strong enough to keep me from marrying him.”

When Mo returned to the main deck, they found Izzy teaching Stede in the ways of pirating. They couldn’t help but grin, barely hiding their laugh behind their hand as he smacked their captain’s ass, sending his across the deck hanging on a rope, squealing as his hands were burned by the rough material. Izzy shook his head, clearly torn between being exasperated and amused at the sight as Stede whimpered, laying on the deck hopelessly. Their partner noticed them watching, giving them a brief wink and a small smile before chastising Stede’s choice of gloves.

Mo grinned to themselves as they crossed the deck, searching for Wee John. Now that everyone was safely reunited, they wanted to take him up on his offer of knitting them a blanket. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind their request for him to make it big enough for two. Not finding their friend on deck, they ducked down into the ship again, giving Izzy a wave and a warm smile as they crossed the ship, silently wishing him luck on his next task of teaching Stede how to shoot a gun. Gods knew he needed it.

Mo was helping Fang haul treasure into a storage room when Izzy found them, ducking through the open doorway, resting his arm against it as he watched the two pile up everything he and the crew had worked so hard to steal during their time under Blackbeard’s captaincy.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning as he watched his partner stack another chest of coins on top of a crate.

Mo turned to face him, wiping at their brow with the back of their arm. “Captain asked us,” they explained breathlessly, gesturing to the growing hoard around them. “Wanted it all condensed. Out of the way.” They tipped their head to the side, their hands resting on their hips as they studied him. “What’s up? You need something?”

Izzy seemed to rouse himself, standing up fully as he remembered his purpose for entering the room. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re going on a raid,” he said levelly, as if telling them he was making a stop to pick up eggs from the market. “Trying to teach Bonnet a thing or two, before he gets us all killed.”

Fang looked at him anxiously, a small frown on his face. “How’s he doing?” As fond as they all were of Stede, no one was disillusioned about his skills as a pirate.

Izzy huffed a sigh, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “’Bout as expected. He has...” he trailed off, scowling as he thought of an apt description, “considerable room for improvement,” he settled on, rather generously. Mo ducked their head to hide their small smile. A few months ago, he would be hissing and screaming over having to teach Stede anything. Now, he was making efforts not to insult the captain, even when asked his thoughts directly.

“We’ll find something Bonnet is good at,” Izzy continued. “Might take us a fuckin’ month at this rate, but we’ll find it.” He turned towards Mo, pointing a finger at them. “I want you to stay out of harm’s way,” he ordered. “We’ll have enough trouble keeping Bonnet safe, I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”

Mo opened their mouth to protest, unable to stop the indignant sound that came from their throat. To their surprise, Fang beat them to the punch, seeming just as offended as they felt.

“Hang on, Izzy,” the soft-spoken man said, his brow furrowed as he frowned. “They’re one of our best fighters. You can’t just put them on the sidelines.”

Izzy’s eyebrows set in a hard line, clearly not expecting any pushback from Fang of all people.

“He’s right, love,” Mo said carefully, not wanting to risk pushing back against his authority too much. “I can handle my own in a fight, and it’d be stupid to make me sit this one out.”

Izzy leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed as he looked at them levelly, examining them closely. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to think I can get you to stay out of a fight?” He watched them intently, clearly expecting an answer.

Mo shuffled, suddenly feeling awkward under Izzy’s gaze. They were uncomfortably aware of the apprehensive look Fang gave them, looking down at the floor as their throat ran dry.

“Well…um…I, uh, I don’t know how to respond to that,” they admitted uncertainly.

Izzy gave them a lopsided grin, huffing a small laugh. “Mo, if I asked you not to fight, you’d still fight,” he said calmly, his voice surprisingly warm. “Everyone on this bloody ship knows it, me included. Then we would fight, and you know I’m not keen on that. What I was asking,” he said pointedly, “wasn’t for you to stay out of the fight entirely. Just don’t do something stupid, love. I don’t want you causing trouble, doing anything risky.”

Mo frowned, kicking their boot aimlessly. “I don’t do stupid things,” they said stubbornly, their voice quiet. “At least not during fights. Out of fights…maybe, on occasion.” Izzy chuckled.

They looked up at their partner, frowning even as they saw the affectionate way he looked at them. “Why didn’t you tell Fang to stay out of trouble?” they demanded, laughing despite themselves. “I mean, no offense, Fang,” they added, turning towards their large friend with an apologetic look.

Fang shook his head, holding up his hands. “None taken,” he promised. “I’ve made mistakes. I’m human too.”

“Fang doesn’t run into danger the way you do, love,” Izzy explained. “He has decades of experience. Never had a serious injury.” Fang frowned. “Had that stab in my leg that one time,” he said, rubbing his thigh absentmindedly.

Izzy nodded reluctantly, rolling his eyes. “That wasn’t pretty,” he conceded. “But your life was never in danger. But you,” he said, pointing at his partner, “you’re still getting your footing. Shouldn’t be taking any chances.”

Mo grinned, crossing their arms over their chest. “You want to talk about getting your footing?” they asked in amusement. “Iz, you have a wooden leg. I’m not the one you need to worry about. In fact, I should be the one telling you to stay safe.” Izzy rolled his eyes again, the small upturn of his lips betraying his faux exasperation, even as he sighed heavily. Mo grinned. “Yep, I’ve made up my mind,” they declared. “I’m sticking with you, Iz. In battle as much as out of it.”

Fang giggled. He shrugged when Izzy shot him a perturbed look, not shirking away from his gaze the way he used to. “Sorry, boss,” he said, not seeming remotely sorry, still grinning like a school child.

Izzy sighed heavily, looking wearily back at his partner. “Suppose I can’t stop you if you want to fight near me,” he said reluctantly, his voice low. “But under no circumstances do you put yourself in danger,” he continued firmly, giving them a stern look. “That’s an order from your first mate.”

Mo smiled, shrugging noncommittally.

Izzy frowned. “You need to agree,” he said lowly, raising an eyebrow at them.

They shrugged again, walking across the small room to meet him, doing their best to ignore the burning of Fang’s gaze on their back.

“Stay out of danger, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” they said quietly, grinning up at Izzy, their hands resting on his hips.

He blushed at the proximity, his eyes lowered to their shoulder as he tried to think of a response. “I-I have a job to do,” he stammered out, unable to meet their adoring gaze. “Can’t promise anything, you know that.”

Mo smiled softly. “And I can’t promise that I won’t intervene if I think you’re in danger.” They grinned. “Pretty sure you already knew that though. Everyone else sure does. Right Fang?” They turned, laughing at the way the older pirate startled, as if he was caught spying on them.

“Oh, um, yeah,” he said haltingly, adjusting his stance nervously as he nodded. “We all know.”

Mo chuckled, turning back to their partner with a sweet smile. “You stay safe, and I will too,” they promised. “Now, is that all you needed, First Mate Hands?”

Izzy nodded hesitantly, still having a hard time meeting their gaze. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat. “That was it.”

They nodded, smiling softly. After all this time, he was still so easy to fluster. “Okay,” they said. “Then I’ll see you later, my love. I’m going to go get some more treasure. It was an order from a superior, after all.” They chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back, leaving the room to grab their next trunk of plundered gold and jewels.

Izzy cleared his throat again as they left, ignoring the blush he knew was staining his cheeks. He glanced at Fang, who was still awkwardly staring at him, seemingly in shock from seeing such a display of affection from the first mate. “What are you looking at?” he asked, sounding remarkably casual for a man with a face dusted with pink. He straightened his vest, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. “You heard them. Back to work, Fang,” he ordered, nodding towards the door.

Fang stumbled as he walked across the room, muttering an “Aye, aye,” on his way out, unable to hide his small smile.

Mo was expecting yelling, clanking, and gunshots as they boarded the ship Stede had selected as their target. The deafening silence they were greeted with was much more chilling, not helped by the dead bodies sprawled about, or the strange symbols written in blood across the deck.

“Congrats, Bonnet,” Izzy said dryly beside them, resting his hand on Olu’s shoulder as he shifted. “You picked the only ship where everyone’s dead.”

Jim muttered something under their breath, quickly crossing their chest, whispering urgently in Spanish.

“What’s this all about then?” Frenchie asked nervously, stepping closer to Mo as Izzy walked off with Stede to investigate.

Mo shook their head, looking around at the carnage with wide eyes. “Dunno,” they said quietly. “Can’t be good though.”

Frenchie shifted anxiously on his feet, leaning over to whisper to his friend.

“I really don’t like this,” he said, pulling at his scarf. “Looks like witchcraft to me.”

They sighed softly, reaching out to take his hand. “Don’t worry, love. This was done by regular people.” They looked around, grimacing. “Really fucked up, unnecessarily brutal people, but people nonetheless.”

Frenchie shook his head. “You don’t know that,” he insisted lowly.

Mo looked up at him, hating seeing how nervous he looked. His brow was furrowed, and a deep frown pulled at his lips. His wide eyes never stopped sweeping across the deck, as if expecting a ghost or a cackling witch to appear out of nowhere and attack him.

“Frenchie, you know I don’t believe in witches,” they said carefully.

Their tall friend frowned, still on the look out for danger. “All the more reason to be vigilant,” he said absentmindedly, shifting closer to them. “I know to expect them, but you, you’re more vulnerable. Nonbelievers are always the first to go.”

Mo sighed heavily. They opened their mouth to speak but were cut off as Jim stormed out of a cabin.

“We need to leave,” they insisted, looking deeply troubled. “Right now.”

“Wait,” Mo called, their worry coming back to them. What if not everyone on board was dead? Izzy would be an easy target, walking around on his new prosthetic with only Stede to watch his back. “What’s wrong? Where’s Izzy?”

Jim laughed humorlessly, grabbing Archie’s arm and Oluwande’s hand, already leading them back to the ladder they had used to board. “He’s in the captain’s quarters with el idiota,” they said bitterly, giving them a wide-eyed look. “Grab him, now,” they warned.

Mo’s heart lurched. Nothing scared Jim. They sprinted across the deck to where their friend had emerged, throwing open the door and looking around wildly for their partner. To their surprise, he stood inside the cabin with Stede, looking completely relaxed, if a bit displeased by their bad raid. He turned to face them as they entered, his hand already on the handle of his sword before he recognized the sudden intruder. He relaxed immediately, but tensed again as Mo threw themselves at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He stumbled as he caught them, quickly hugging them back with a confused look on his face.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, his breath tickling their ear.

Mo laughed weakly, pulling back enough to look at him. “I, uh, I just got worried,” they said lamely, still breathing quickly. “Jim came out, was saying some ominous shit, and it freaked me out. Needed to know you were okay.”

Izzy smiled warmly down at them. Before he could respond, a voice came from behind them.

“Ah, well that’s lovely!”

Mo turned, finding Stede wearing a ludicrously extravagant red coat jacket. He watched them with a warm smile. “It’s so nice seeing you two together again,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, hey, Stede,” they greeted weakly. “Sorry, just didn’t see you there.” They chuckled weakly, still holding tightly to Izzy’s arm as they turned fully to face him. “Guess I kinda had my blinders on. Is, uh, is that jacket new?”

Stede grinned, spinning dramatically before straightening the jacket out to show them. “What do you think?” he asked, unable to hide his glee. “Can you believe it? What would a bunch of priests be doing with such a gorgeous ensemble?” He turned, facing a mirror as he posed in his new jacket.

Mo bit back a grin, their heart finally beginning to calm down from their panic. “It’s rather…dashing,” they said slowly. “Very bold, that’s for sure.”

Izzy sighed heavily. “What it is is ridiculous,” he drawled, clearly not amused. “Not to mention impractical,” he added, grimacing to himself.

“Well, I have been wanting to make bolder choices,” Stede said absentmindedly, ignoring Izzy’s comment. “Oh! This could be my new captain jacket!”

Izzy and Mo exchanged a look, having the same thought but neither knowing who should say it. Izzy nodded towards them, and Mo took a deep breath.

“Stede,” they said carefully, watching their captain revel in his newfound fashion statement, “you know that clothes don’t have a big impact on captaining ability, right?”

Stede hummed, not taking his eyes off his reflection. Izzy rolled his eyes, looking away in exasperation.

���Oi!” they called loudly, chuckling as he jolted, turning to face them finally. “Sorry, mate," they said, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Had to get your attention somehow." They took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Look, I’ll level with you, alright?” Stede nodded, frowning suspiciously. “It’s a good jacket,” they said, “and it looks good on you.” He beamed at the praise, raising his head like a preening bird. “But,” they added, giving him a sympathetic look, “this won’t fix your captaincy worries for you. Only you can do that. Looking like a ‘real captain’”, they said using air quotes, “won’t make people see you as more of a captain. You just need to work on building up your skillset and your confidence.”

Izzy chuckled next to them. “Maybe not the confidence so much,” he said quietly.

Stede scowled, straightening his jacket with far too much zeal as he glared at the first mate. Mo gently elbowed their lover, barely able to hide their smile when he held their arm, maneuvering them to wrap his arm around their waist, resting his hand on their hip.

“Don’t listen to him,” they advised their captain. “I mean, do, but mostly just about piracy. When it comes to people skills, he’s still learning.” Izzy scoffed. “Thought you were supposed to be on my side,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a chuckle.

Mo grinned at they turned to look up at him. “I am when it matters,” they said matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’s not something you don’t know. You’ve got a lot of talents, Iz,” they said fondly. “Your people skills just aren’t quite there yet.” He rolled his eyes, giving them a small smile.

“Anyway,” they continued, turning back to Stede. “I guess what I’m saying is, the clothes don’t make the captain. And you already have a bit of an advantage, Stede,” they added. “You already have loyal friends. You just need to work on your authority and your practical skills.” The captain nodded reluctantly, still toying with the hem of the ornate jacket’s sleeves.

Mo smiled, unable to deny their friend one bit of joy. “That being said, the jacket does suit you.” They grinned as his face lit up. “I think you should keep it, if you like it that much.” Izzy groaned next to them, and they moved closer to him, pressing against his chest and giving him a pleading look over their shoulder. He sighed softly, but stopped complaining, pressing a gentle kiss to their temple.

Stede had turned back around when they looked at him, smirking as he admired his reflection. “I think I will,” he said, striking a daring pose.

[obvious-captain-rogers]

I'm working on a couple new fics, so as a Christmas treat I'll give you some sneak peaks under the cut ;)

This is from the steddyhands dads au that helps flesh out Ed and Izzy's backstory

“Oh. That. It’s er-” Izzy felt suddenly self-conscious under the scrutiny. “Just this thing that we started when Jude was a baby.” Izzy shrugged, careful not to jostle Jude in the process. “Was Fang’s idea originally.”

“Tell me about it?” Stede asked, clearly seeing Izzy’s reluctance.

“Would be easier just to show you,” Izzy admitted and then stood, looping an arm beneath Jude’s bum to keep him settled against Izzy’s chest while passing his mug off to Ed, before making his way over to their little bookshelf.

Izzy pulled the book he was looking for off the shelf and made his way back over to the couch, propping it up against his thigh just behind Jude’s back. It was a faded yellow scrapbook with Jude’s full name scrawled in Sharpie across the bottom and with a wallet photo sized window in the middle. The photo was of Jude the day after he’d been born, still in the little hospital bassinet and  slightly wonky hat. “Every year, around Jude’s birthday, we add some pictures from the past year into the book.” Izzy shifted a little nervously as Stede took the book from his hands with more reverence than it really ought to have warranted.

“This is lovely, darling,” Stede said quietly and gently opened up to the first page. Izzy felt his face get hot with embarrassment as Stede quickly had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright at the first photo. It was pre-Jude, when Izzy was still pregnant and obviously miserable. Fang had taken the photo when Izzy was crashing with him.

“Shut up, Bonnet,” Izzy grumbled and shoved at Stede’s shoulder. “Morning sickness was fuckin’ awful.” The photo was Izzy, clearly having just stumbled out of bed in an oversized t-shirt and his boxers, with his top half slumped over the toilet and flipping off the camera without looking.

“Oh darling, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it,” Stede said and reached out to lay a hand on Izzy’s knee placatingly. “You do look perfectly miserable.”

“Hyperemesis gravidarum,” Izzy muttered. “Stupidly fuckin’ rare so of course...” Izzy scowled and shook his head. “Was why I swore that after Jude was born that was it.” Izzy pulled a face. “Didn’t get this out to look at me. Fang put them in there, said I would appreciate them later.” Izzy still didn’t, not entirely though he supposed he was more content that they were there to be bitched at rather than not there at all.

Izzy flipped through the pages of when he was pregnant and Stede let out a soft gasp when Izzy finally let him look properly. They were finally where the pictures of Jude started. The first one was of Jude in the hospital right after he was born, all pink and squalling. Then there was the picture of Izzy holding him for the first time.

“You were so young,” Stede said delightedly as he absently smoothed his thumb over the part of the photo that had Izzy in it. His hair had been darker then, none of the grey that now streaked through it.

“Jude’s only five,” Izzy scoffed but he felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at Stede’s enamored expression. Then Stede turned the page and the photo was the first time that Edward had held Jude.

Izzy winced and looked away from the photo. It was a sweet picture, and Edward looked endearingly younger in it as well, but it brought back some ugly memories. Izzy could almost hear the sounds of shattered glass and Edward’s shouting.

and then this is from the silverflint writer/actor au I'm working on, linking the pinterest so y'all get the idea

Flint had to sign off for the scripts when the rest of the post came. He smiled politely and nodded before turning back into the house and flipping through the rest of the post methodically. He wasn’t avoiding them, per se, but if it turned into something, he didn’t want to have to put it on pause because he needed to pay the lighting bill.

He peeled open the document mailer and tipped the scripts- there were three of them- out onto the table alongside a note in Thomas’s spindly scrawl.

You can thank me later when you’ve said yes

-TH

And beside his initials, he’d scribbled down a lopsided little heart that had Flint rolling his eyes fondly.

Flint set the note to the side before he grabbed up the script for the pilot episode and moved over to his loveseat. It was the most comfortable spot in his house and there was plenty of light from the window.

Flint blinked in surprise as he realized that the show was sci-fi. There wasn’t anything wrong with the genre, Flint had watched many an odd and probably not very good sci-fi movie because Miranda liked them and Thomas found the idea of them fascinating. He wasn’t surprised that Miranda was enthusiastic about the project.

Within the first handful of pages, Flint was pulled in.

He forced himself to set down the script in the middle of the pilot episode so that he could snag the other two from where he’d left them on the dining room table so that once he was done, he could just read straight through.

He hated telling Thomas that he was right.

[avastyetwats]

At Last

Continued from here. @izzyeffinhands

Stede's smile only grows and never fades when Israel continues to sing. It's only his voice that Stede wants to hear, and truly, it's only his voice that he does hear. That beautiful voice that Stede Bonnet fell in love with, that euphonious voice that changed his life for the better. Since the first night he heard it above his balcony and every night that followed. It filled him with muse, it filled him with inspiration, it filled him with life and even more so the night they finally met. The night they kissed. The night they held each other. They were practically inseparable since that first night.

Now here they were hidden away in a cabin on the beach, dancing naked in the living room with their song playing, but more importantly, with Israel singing it. And when he presses his cheek against his and sings the line that matches with his action, Stede lets out a soft giggle and rubs his cheek against his, but then their bodies suddenly come apart. Izzy spins him under his arm, out and then pulls him back in and Stede laughs - breathless. His smile wide as can be which happens in time with the song and he's pressing a kiss to Izzy's finger when it touches his lips. Oh, how he wants to kiss him in this moment, but he doesn't want to interrupt his singing, especially now when he's so into it himself. As though he's putting on a show for thousands which Stede is sure would bring as many people if not more. Oh, so much more, he's sure of it.

But right now, tonight, it's for Stede. He's singing for him, to him, and there are tears in his eyes not just because he's singing to him, but because his voice is just so breathtakingly beautiful, the writer is in awe of it. Especially as he sings louder. Louder than the song itself and that's what he wanted. He wanted his voice to fill the cabin, he wanted his voice to echo out into the night. He wanted Izzy to sing his heart out whenever he desired, however often he desired, because that voice deserved to be heard. It deserved to be loved, to be appreciated, to be cherished which is everything Stede Bonnet did and more. He cherished and treasured all of Israel Hands and the way he was looking at him with tears in his eyes conveyed that.

Suddenly he's being spun out again and he stands still, listening as Izzy finishes that line before he's pulling Stede back in. Their naked bodies come back together and this time Stede is dipped, Izzy's strong arms holding him steady as he sings the last of the song and gods, he can feel his muscular chest vibrating against his own. Chills shoot up his spine, bumps appearing all over his skin, as Izzy's voice fills the cabin and his own body, sending his heart soaring into the night sky, his eyes shining with tears never leaving the man above him, gazing up at him as though he's the god of music himself. And to Stede, he is. Oh, he's that and so much more. He's just everything.

In complete awe of him, Stede's hand moves from his arm to his face, cupping it so gently before he leans up to kiss him while he's still dipped. It's a sweet kiss that turns deep, but remains slow and sweet. Passionate. A thank you for his singing, for his love, for just... him. He whispers every word of praise he can think of against his lips, sounding out of breath as he speaks, as he kisses him, yet feeling so full of life and energy. Joyous. Awestruck. Even aroused. How could he not be after that performance and from being held against him like this? "What are my chances of an encore should I request one?" Stede questions with a breathless laugh, but he means it. Oh, does he mean it. He kisses him again. "The God of music himself, and the Goddess of beauty, have nothing on you, Israel. Nothing." Another kiss, still holding his face with one hand while the other rests on his chest, over his heart, that beats in time with his own.

[avastyetwats]

“ I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and ask if I didn’t.”

Fair point. But Stede was just so shocked and awestruck and didn’t always think before speaking. There were still moments where he just couldn't believe this incredible man was in love with him. That he wanted to be with him, that he had no regrets or doubts or anything of the sort. And this confirmed that because he was asking to marry him. He wanted to be with him in every way possible - he wanted to be his partner in every sense of the word - and even take his last name. Or vise versa, they'd have to talk about that, but regardless! Izzy wanted to be with him, after everything and through everything and Stede was just so overcome with emotion, he couldn't help but cry as he hugged on him and kissed him messily, though when he kissed his lips, it was tender and sweet. He could taste their tears in the kiss and it only made him kiss Izzy harder.

The kiss broke and Stede took in a few deep breaths to try and calm himself, but that felt impossible in this moment. He just felt so overwhelmed in the best way! Then Izzy took the ring, offering to slip it onto his finger and Stede nodded. "R-right. Make it official." He giggled, his heart fluttering and dancing when Izzy took his hand and gently slipped the ring onto his left ring finger, making the tears burst from his eyes once again. He held up his hand, then, and gazed at the ring around his finger. The diamond glistened in the sun, casting it's sparkles on the walls and furniture all around them as he kept it held up, in utter awe of it's beauty and of this moment. "I-I'm engaged..." He breathed out. He'd been engaged once before, but this was far different. This was out of love, out of choice, out of want. This would be a marriage of love and want. "We're going to be married, Izzy!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms around him again with a joyful laugh, once again peppering his face with wet kisses. He was on cloud 9 and he was never coming down.

Then he pulled back, the beaming smile on his face. "We should call James and Charles! A-and Mary and the children!" To tell them they were engaged. Not that it was Christmas or anything. He'd honestly forgotten about that part. Frantically, he searched for his phone and once he found it, he selected Charles's number and waited. Very impatiently.

As soon as he heard his voice on the other end, Stede didn't hesitate. "WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!!! IZZY ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM!"

The diamond ring had certainly done the trick. For a moment, it and the question attached had rendered his boyfriend silent. He’d smiled when he questioned if there was something there, having to build up his courage to actually ask the question. Once it hit Stede, he’d started to cry and that in turn made him cry. He’d been on the brink of it for some time now, but he’d held it in. Now, the tears came.

He laughed as he asked the question. “ I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and ask if I didn’t. “ But he still hadn’t answered which left him just staring hopefully until finally he said yes and Izzy laughed again, this time with relief. He didn’t get much time to reply as those lips were on his face and then his, their tears falling between them as they shared a firm yet tender kiss. His hand had gone into his yellow mop, petting him assuredly. This was real. All of it was real. He was getting married. He was engaged!

When the kiss broke, a now swollen lipped Izzy gently took the ring back from him. “Here.” He took his hand with a smile, slowly slipping the ring on the correct finger. “ Let me put this on you properly. “ He sniffled.

[stedebonnit]

Its seasonal depression season and I'm thinking about the crew sailing up north for the winter because Stede has never seen snow having grown up in Barbados, and I'm thinking about him being so excited at first when he sees the snow comkng down, feels the cool breeze and the snowflakes on his tongue, but over the shortening days, Stede's mood starts to dip, and he finds himself in this sort of anhedonia.

He finds it harder and harder to get out of bed, sleeping through the days, barely eating anything. He suddenly cant bring himself to feel happy or excited, he hasnt smiled in weeks, and he doesn't care to do all the things he'd planned to do once they got to the snow.

Stede feels this panic, deep down, because this is so similar to how he felt with Mary, trapped in a space that never fit him, a deep melancholy weighing him down.

He has Ed now, and he knows its different. He loves Ed, that hasnt changed, but underneath the ever-present fog he feels this terror, a fear that he'll drive Ed off, make him resent Stede just like his wife did. He's tired, boring, and crabby, he can't imagine anyone wanting to be around him when hes like this. He doesn't even want to be around himself like this. He doesnt understand why he feels this way, and he doesn't know how to fix it.

With Mary, he'd always known deep down that leaving would fix the way he felt, it was the guilt of what that meant that held him back for so long. Its different, now. Everything he's ever wanted, everything he knows he still wants, is just beyond the cabin door, but he can't find an ounce of motivation within himself. He wants to go out, to show the crew, to show Edward that he cares, that he's more than this, but he feels stuck in the bed, staring blankly out the window, too tired to even cry. He doesn't want to fall into apathy again, but he feels himself slipping beneath his fingers with each passing day that he can't force himself out of bed to join Ed and the crew.

Ed doesnt resent him. He's worried for Stede, of course, but he knows that this is different than it was with Mary. After a few weeks of silence, Ed bringing Stede his food in bed each day, taking care of Stede, Ed decides its time for a change. Gently, and so very patiently Ed coaxes Stede out of bed for the first time in a week, he helps Stede dress himself, his movements sluggish, his expression blank, and wraps an arm around him as they walk out of the cabin to join the crew out on the wintery deck.

The crew greets him with smiles, and though he cant bring himself to smile back, he manages a short wave and some simple nods. As Ed settles him down on a barrel, surrounded by the crew, a patient audience to Stede's return, he feels the sting of the winter breeze hit his face. Stede he can't bring himself to care, but luckily, Edward does, and the moment he sees Stedes cheeks tinge red, he pulls off his scarf and wraps it around Stede's neck with such care.

The Swede asks "Can you read to us, Captain? We've missed you."

Stede suddenly tears up, gratitude and shame warring with each other in his mind, bringing out the painful sadness that has been simmering for weeks under the surface. He's touched that the crew has thought of him, that he matters enough to be missed, but Stede doesn't have it in him to read them a story. Right now he can't even bring himself to communicate with more than a nod or a shake of his head, so in that moment he blinks back the tears and shakes his head, curling himself into Ed for warmth.

The crew understands, and instead he sits and listens to Lucius reading them stories (Ed does the voices, because Lucius can't).

Each day after that, Ed helps Stede dress himself, walks him to the table for breakfast instead of bringing it to him in bed, he helps him to tidy the cabin, just a small amount each day. Stede is still weighed down by the fog, but getting himself moving helps to make it bearable, if only a bit. Ed is patient with him, encouraging him to try at least one thing each day, but never pushing him to do too much.

Eventually, they decide to sail back down south. Its not pleasant being out in the winter, and Stede is too depressed to do any of the winter activities they'd planned.

A few weeks later, as the days become longer again, Stede feels the fog begin to lift, inch by inch. He knows its real when he watches the sun rising through the cabin window before pulling himself out of bed without the need for Ed's gentle encouragement. Its the first time hes been out of bed before midday in weeks. Thats when he notices, for the first time in weeks, that a smile has crept onto his lips. Stede runs to find Edward, collapsing into his arms, and Ed holds him as he weeps with relief. The fog has lifted, and they survived it together.

[arun-armand-amadeo]

I posted a headcanon here that Ed would call Stede treasure so I went and wrote a short fic about it. 

Treasure - 2,407 words - AO3 Link or read below:

The first time that it happened, Stede didn’t even notice.

It had been a turbulent night as, despite the crews best efforts, they had been unable to out-sail the storm chasing them. As night creeped in, so did the rain, followed by vicious thunder and crashing waves against the ships hull. It had knocked them from side to side as towering waves pummelled down on them from above.

Ed had stayed out on the deck with a small team of their most experienced sailors whilst Stede had bunkered down below with the rest of the crew. They were all clearly terrified and worried about their friends battling the storm outside, but Stede had to put on a brave face for them despite his own rising anxieties. Every time the ship groaned loudly in protest as she was knocked about, a stab of fear struck Stede through the heart. All he could do was keep his faith in Edward and know that his co-captain and friend would do whatever it would take to keep everyone safe and sound.

Come morning, the clouds finally parted and the sun shone down on them once more. The waves were calm, gently lapping their apologies against the ship, as the crew reunited on the deck. There was substantial damage and a lot of repairs to do, but everyone was alive and miraculously uninjured.  

Stede crossed the deck with two cups of tea in his hands, one loaded with seven sugars, just as he knew his co-captain preferred. Ed was clearly haggard, body hunched over the railing as he stared with a blank expression into the horizon. There were dark bags under his eyes and a tension held in his muscles. Stede hoped a strong cuppa would help relax his friend.

“Here.” He said softly, sliding the saucer along the railing. “You look like you need it.”

Ed blinked out of wherever his mind had wandered to look down at the offering. He smiled softly. Of course the delicate china had managed to survive the worse storm The Revenge had ever faced. He picked up his tea and took a sip, eyes slipping shut in bliss.

“Perfect as always, thanks mate.” He took another sip and glanced at Stede out of the corner of his eye, looking at the man in his long golden gown. “What would I do without you, eh treasure?”

Stede had just smiled back at him. “Oh, it’s nothing. You’re the one who got us through that rather nasty storm! A cup of tea is the very least I could do.”

The second time that it happened took Stede by surprise.

Everyone was gathered in the mess hall to loudly celebrate another successful raid. Drinks were being passed around, people were singing, and everyone was feeling the merriment. Roach had even prepared an assortment of sweets and cakes with the ingredients they had also pillaged from the merchant ship they had robbed.

Stede was standing behind Wee John and Frenchie at the time, leaning slightly over their shoulders as he watched the pair engage in what they called ‘thumb wrestling’. It was a rather unusual game but enjoyable to watch. Stede much preferred this sport to the actual wrestling the crew liked to compete in from time to time. This was far less violent and nowhere near as likely to cause any serious injuries.

He was so engrossed in the display before him that he jumped at the sudden sensation of a warm hand pressed to his lower back. However, at the smell of leather and smoke that immediately followed, he relaxed. It was only Ed. The man in question lent in close, front pressed to Stede’s back, as his lips hovered next to Stede’s ear.

“Sorry treasure, just trying to squeeze by.” Came his warm voice.

As quickly as he came, he was gone again, heading across the room to refill his drink. Stede shuddered, partially from the proximity but mostly from the way Ed’s voice had dripped like honey down his spine. There was the word again. Treasure. Surely it was a mistake?  

A triumphant cheer as Wee John won the thumb wrestling pulled Stede out of his spiralling thoughts and he promptly forgot all about what was absolutely not a petname.

Stede had been drunk the third time it happened.

Well, Stede wasn’t the only one who was drunk. Everybody was very drunk, including Ed. They had decided to make another attempt at a vacation. Compared to the first time this one was far more successful. The crew were all in the ocean, swimming around and splashing at each other and just generally having a good time. The sandy beach was decorated with a half-eaten picnic and empty bottles of rum.

The only two people not in the water was Ed and Stede. The two were sat under a palm tree together, shoulders pressed snugly as they shared a bottle of wine. They had started on the rum with everybody else, but then Ed had produced a bottle of red and the two had quickly snuck away to partake in their little secret.

“I know you have a more sophisticated palate.” Ed had whispered conspiratorially as he pulled the bottle out from inside his jacket.

Right now the wine was almost gone and Stede was pleasantly buzzed. He was warm and satiated with Ed chatting nonsense next to him. There was nowhere else he’d rather be than right here in this moment.

“So what do you say, should we join the others for a dip?” Ed asked with a lazy stretch.  

Stede frowned. “But I don’t have my bathing suit. I left it onboard.”

“No-one else is in their bathing suits.” Ed chuckled, nudging his shoulder against Stede’s. “Come on treasure, it’ll be fun.”

As it turns out, Ed was right. It was a lot of fun.

The fourth time it happened wasn’t even directed at Stede.

He was up in the crows nest simply enjoying the view. It was a beautifully clear day and the water sparkled around them. There was a light breeze keeping the humidity at bay and Stede was having a small moment of peace to himself. Below him, he was a aware of chatter amongst the crew, but wasn’t really paying any attention to it.

Instead he was thinking about where they should head to next. Everyone had chucked out various ideas of where they wanted to go and which ports they wanted to visit. The crew had each passionately argued as to why their suggestion was the best, leaving Stede feeling more than a little overwhelmed and flustered. A bit of quiet was all he needed to sort out his muddled thoughts.

Heavy boots crossing the deck caught his ears. There was no doubt that was Ed. He must have finished with the inventory he had disappeared below deck to work through with Lucius. Glancing down, he watched the two join the small group, Lucius immediately sitting down next to Pete.

“So have we decided on where we’re going yet?” Ed asked the crew, hands resting casually on his hips.

“Captain hasn’t decided yet.” Came Jim’s reply, always quick and to the point.

Ed hummed thoughtfully and looked around. What he said next caused a blush to explode over Stede’s cheeks.  

“And where is my treasure?” He spoke affectionally.

There was no way he was talking about Stede, right? Maybe he had misplaced some coins or a jewel or…

“Captain’s up in the crows nest.” Olu answered, helpfully pointing upwards.

Stede scrambled away from the edge and planted his back firmly against the mast as he tried to control his rapid breathing. Ed really had meant him…and apparently the rest of the crew were aware of this little term of endearment as well! What did it all mean?

Ed’s head suddenly popped into view. “Ah, there you are! Hey, are you alright? You’re looking a little flushed there mate.”

“I’m fine!” Stede squawked.

The fifth time that it happened, Stede had just been shot.

A Spanish Navy ship had spotted them and set chase. The Revenge was fast, but the Spanish had the wind on their side and caught up to them in no time. Backs against the wall, the crew had no choice but to fight back. They were boarded by the officers and their men and a great battle began.

The sound of metal clanging against metal was almost deafening as the horribly copper scent of blood filled the air. Ed had been teaching Stede how to sword fight and those lessons were coming in very handy right now. However, it didn’t matter how skilled Stede was, as a sword was no use against a gun.

A loud bang echoed through the air and everything seemed to fall silent and move in slow motion. Stede looked around in confusion for the source of the noise, only seeing the head officer with a raised gun. Had he fired it? Stede wasn’t sure. Around him were faces of panic from his crew but he couldn’t see the reason as to why.

His vision was suddenly taken up completely by Ed. He was teary eyed and speaking fast, but Stede couldn’t hear a sound against the roaring in his ears and a stabbing pain in his shoulder. He looked down, wondering what the cause of his discomfort was.

Oh. Oh dear.

His shoulder was soaked red with blood. His blood. Time suddenly came back to life and everything was so fast all of a sudden. People moved around him in a blur, the crew fighting and pushing the Spanish back in their anger. There was a clang as Stede’s sword slipped from his grasp as he tried to reach out instead.

“Ed.” He gasped, the pain pulsing in time with his racing heart.

“I’ve got you mate, I’ve got you.” Ed replied, moving Stede to lean against his side, strong arms around his waist.

They pair walked through the chaos, dodging fists and daggers as Ed manoeuvred them below deck. Stede felt his vision start to swim and it took everything in him to keep ahold of his co-captain.

“That’s it, down you go.” Ed soothed.

Stede found himself laid down as he stared up at the ceiling of his shared quarters. A darkness was steadily creeping in around the edges, threatening to consume him.  

“Stay with me, alright mate? Can you do that for me?” Ed was panicking now.

He kept twisting to bark orders over his shoulders, shouting for Roach to hurry up. The loud sounds hurt Stede’s ears and he winced in agony. A hand blindly reached out to take a weak hold of Ed’s own sweaty palm.

“I’m sorry darling.” Stede rasped. “I’m just so very tired.”

“Stede? Stede, no, no! I need you to stay awake. Come on treasure, don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this!” Ed yelled.

Stede closed his eyes and smiled softly. How lovely to be considered a treasure.

The first time they spoke about it, Stede was lucky to be alive.  

He had woken up in his bed and was reminded of a similar situation from not that long ago. However this time Ed was not sitting next to him, but rather he was curled up with Stede in the small bed. He was propped up slightly against the pillows with Ed’s head resting against his chest, right over his heart. A hand was laid protectively over his waist and he noticed the dagger in Ed’s tight grip.

“Edward?” His voice was dry and hoarse.

The man stirred and immediately bolted upright, eyes wide and bloodshot as he frantically took in Stede’s appearance.

“Holy shit.” He whispered. “You’re awake?”

Stede grimaced as he shifted, reminded of the pain in his shoulder and tight bandages wrapped securely around the wound.

“Yes, it would appear so.” He grunted with much effort.

Ed moved to help Stede get comfortable, adjusting the pillows and blankets as needed. Once satisfied he just sort of…stopped. He was frozen still as he looked at Stede, expression soft yet heartbroken all at the same time.  

“Is there something wrong?” Stede asked, worrying about all of the possibilities that Ed could say.

Ed let out a shuddering breath. “I thought I’d lost you for a moment there. I…I think I did. Roach won’t say, but I swear you stopped breathing for a moment.”

That was a lot to take in. Stede quickly processed it all before answering. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But hey, look at me, I’m right here. I’m fine. I’m alive.”

Ed nodded, tears springing to the corner of his eyes. A shaky hand reached out to cup Stede’s cheek softly.

“My greatest treasure…and I…I almost lost you.” Ed whispered reverently.

Stede lent into the touch. “Treasure.” He tested out the word for himself. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Edward chucked and shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s true?” He licked his lips, glancing down at Stede’s own. “You’re prettier than any piece of jewellery. Worth more than any gold coin. Rarer than any diamond. You’re easily the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen and the most important thing in the world to me. I think that makes you something worth treasuring, wouldn’t you agree?”

Stede didn’t realise that he’d started crying until he heard the way his voice shook. “Edward I…I don’t know what to say.”

Ed smiled back at him. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’d quite like to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

Stede nodded eagerly and Ed closed the gap. The kiss was perfect, a warm affection blossoming in Stede’s chest and spreading to the very tips of his fingers and toes. The gentle slide of their lips was his own personal taste of heaven. As they parted, Stede smiled lovingly up at Ed.

“I think I understand now. I’d trade in all of my wealth if it meant one more kiss from you.” Stede confessed.

A grin broke across Ed’s face. “Lucky for you, I don’t charge.”

Playful laughter filled the room as Ed dived back in to capture Stede’s lips with his own again. It was from that moment on they knew that they’d always be the richest pirates on the seven seas, as no-one else had something as priceless as what they shared.

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Your work is awesome I love your writing especially your most recent Izzy post taking care of him- could we get a mini sequel to that were reader washes his hair like you left off at the end? No rush what’s so ever! 💕💕💕💕💕

Basically the missing bath scene at the end of THIS FIC

Washing Izzy Hands' Hair:

The pain in Izzy's gut had subsided from earlier, the healing wound numbing again. Sometimes he could actually forget it was there, if you didn't remind him every time he did anything too strenuous.

Of course, when you had asked to use the bathroom for the injured first mate, Stede granted you access without batting an eye. You had prepared the bath, tossing in some of those oils and salts that Stede had just for good measure. Once Izzy was healed, you doubted that the two of you would have such access to the captain's private bathroom, you planned on taking advantage.

Once the tub was filled, you turned around, taking your time to collect the soaps you would need to give Izzy some privacy as he sank down into the warm water. You could swear that you heard a pleased groan as he submerged himself.

"This isn't lavender" Izzy commented under his breath, he had grown used to the scent and this one was new. Nice, just different. The observation amused you but gave you the signal that you could turn around.

"Nope. It's rose. The captains picked it up at the last port, thought we could try something new. Told Stede your wound was still bothering you, he said we could use anything in here" you told him as you turned back to face him.

It was a little amusing but incredibly endearing to see the fearsome Izzy Hands in a fancy bath filled with pink tinted water. You added all the scented things that you had never seen before meeting Stede because you liked to be a little indulgent at times and wanted to treat Izzy, but the tinted water also helped him maintain his modesty. You weren't sure if that was something that bothered him or not, so you had just always made sure to be respectful when caring for him.

"I think Stede had some rose petals to put in the water. I would've added them but I think he and Edward already used them up" you mused, grabbing a stool and pulling it up beside the bath.

Izzy just nodded in acknowledgement, his mind wandering a little. The thought of you taking the care and time to prepare him the sort of bath that Stede would prepare Ed. You didn't have to put in all this effort, just some lukewarm water and unscented soap could have done the job, but you clearly cared enough that you actually wanted him to enjoy it.

"Can I?" you had helped him wash multiple times since he got stabbed but every time you always asked if it was okay to touch him, always asked before you did...anyway.

Izzy nodded again.

You dipped the washcloth into the water but soaping it up. You started on his shoulders, scrubbing gently, working around his neck. Whenever you felt a knot under your palm, you would try to rub it out the best you could with the washcloth in the way. Smiling whenever Izzy rolled his shoulders back into your hands.

You then dragged the washcloth down his arm, gently holding his hand in yours as you took your time. Izzy hung his head slightly, hoping it looked like he was looking down at the water, like it was the most interesting thing on the seven seas. Really, he was focused on your intertwined hands on the side of the bathtub.

Your held his hand so tenderly. You didn't have too, he could hold his arm up, he could rest his hand on the rim of the tub, you didn't need to hold his hand. Then again, you didn't need to be helping him wash either anymore. But he let you, let you brush your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. Pretended like it didn't have an effect on him, pretended that it didn't send a shiver through him.

He had to hold his over arm across his chest for you, but you held his hand again. You had to lean over the bath a little more to reach the top of his arm but you made sure to leave a comfortable distance between you, as if purposely giving him space. Thankfully, you didn't look at his face, because Izzy could feel his cheeks warming slightly.

Releasing his hand and sitting back on your stool again, you soaped up the washcloth again. "Still okay?" you asked softly as you wiped the cloth over his collarbone.

"Yeah" Izzy nodded, unsure if he had actually spoken loud enough for you to hear him.

Ever so respectful, you scrubbed down his chest. You had done washed his chest and arms when you had helped him into his first bath after getting stabbed, it being nearly impossible to do himself without hurting himself further. He had been able to tend to himself for a while now, though you still offered your assistance every time. Izzy was letting you look after him again, having been longing for it since that first fucking bath.

You continued to work in a comfortable silence as you scrubbed down his back, feeling the muscles slowly relaxing, hearing the hitches in Izzy's breath as you pressed against the knots.

After rinsing off the suds, you moved your stool to sit behind the head of the bath.

With a jug that sat beside the bathtub, you wet Izzy's hair, him instinctively tilting his head back. You poured some shampoo onto your palms, before running it through his hair. Once you coated his hair in the shampoo, you removed your hands.

Wiping off your hands and folding a towel, you placed it on the rim of the bath behind Izzy. "Lean back for me, Iz" you encouraged softly.

Izzy did exactly as you said without hesitation, leaning back as you guided his head down. The towel comfortably padded the tub's rim where the back of Izzy's neck rested.

Getting comfortable on your stool, beginning to massage his scalp. His reaction was instant, melting into your touch and soaking up the attention. You could feel him relaxing, how his head felt a little heavier in your hands, and you could see the rest of his body relaxing as he sank further into the rose water.

You continued your actions, occasionally cupping water in your hands to wash a little bit of shampoo out of his hair as you went. Izzy had shut his eyes pretty much straight away but a proud smile graced your face when you noticed his breathing steadying out.

He had fallen asleep. Challenge successful.

You didn't plan on waking him up, deciding instead to let him rest, god knows he needed it. All the while, affectionately playing with his hair. You would sit there until your hands turned wrinkly if he was still sleeping.

Izzy looked so peaceful like this. His face relaxed and opened, lips slightly parted. His chest rising and falling rhythmically. Taking a break from playing with his hair, you traced the swallow tattoo on the side of his neck, a reminder of just how long he had been at sea.

By the time Izzy was waking up, your hands were back in his hair and the water was growing cold.

"Welcome back" you teased fondly when you saw his eyelids flutter.

His eyes were barely open, you couldn't even tell if he could see through his eyelashes. He looked so relaxed, so content. You wished you could see him like this more often.

"...gonna miss this" Izzy confessed quietly, barely even a whisper. The confession surprised you, even if you suspected it you didn't expect him to say it out loud, but you were glad the feeling was reciprocated.

"Doesn't have to end" you suggested because, honestly, you would miss this too. A whole lot, actually. Izzy was healing well, it wouldn't be long before he didn't need assistance with anything and you couldn't find excuses to dote on him anymore.

"Can't stay injured forever, even if you actually do like taking care of me for whatever fucking reason" Izzy reminded you, face scrunching up slightly.

"Hey, you don't have to be injured for me to want to care for you" you frowned, gently tracing your fingertips along his jaw. He hadn't made any attempt to lift his head, so you continued with your little touches. "You can still have this" you promised, both him and yourself. We can still have this.

"...not just talking about the hair washing, though" Izzy breathed, opening his eyes properly and looking up at you. You were already peering down at him.

"I know. Neither am I" you assured him, trailing your fingertips over his cheek. "Whatever you want, whatever you'll allow me" Izzy shivered when you tenderly touched the tattoo on his cheek.

Not trusting his words, Izzy just nodded, letting out a breath of relief before letting his eyes close again.

You smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead, earning a content sigh from Izzy. You even thought you saw his mouth twitch into a small smile for a second.

The bath could no longer be that pleasant but you weren't going to rush him. He could stay like this for as long as he pleased, or until Stede came asking for his bathroom back.

[jellybeanium124]

Stede unclasped his hands and tried to stand normally. But telling yourself to "stand normally" inevitably doomed you to stand abnormally.

Ed chuckled. "What are you doing? Now you look like a puppet with a drunkard pulling your strings."

"I don't know!" Stede said, a little more hotly than the situation warranted. "Trying not to stand like a puppy, I guess..."

"Aw, no mate, it's really cute. I like how you stand."

The line moved forward a bit, giving Stede an excuse to move and reset himself.

"I always forget how much standing in line happens at amusement parks," Ed said, annoyed. He started bouncing his left leg absentmindedly.

Stede noticed, and his mouth pinched slightly. Ed looked at him and studied his face carefully.

"What?"

"Hm? Nothing."

"That's your Something Nothing."

"What?"

"That's how you say 'nothing' when it's actually definitely something."

Stede sighed. "It's really nothing."

"C'mon love. We'll probably be stuck here for another 20 minutes."

Stede accepted his fate. There was no getting out of this. "Well, I just suddenly thought about this trip to New York my family did when I was a child. We saw a concert at Carnegie Hall, but we had to wait in the foyer for a while before getting to our seats. It was some kind of cocktail hour thing? I don't really remember. There was nothing there for me. I was 10, there weren't any other kids there. Not that I would've been brave enough to go talk to them if there had been. And there wasn't any place to hide a book in my stupid little suit. So after about 30 minutes of standing around and being bored out of my skull, I start acting all bratty, and my father gives me a little bap on the ear and told me to stand still and shut up. I know that's not... I know how I sound telling that story..."

"What do you mean, 'how you sound?'"

Stede flushed a bit red and looked at his shoes. "Like a spoiled brat..." he said quietly.

"Your dad hit you."

"No, not really, I mean it was just a little slap. Open-handed. It didn't even really hurt, or leave a mark even--"

"Stede, no, stop, please. Your dad was awful. And you're not some snobby rich guy. I've dealt with a lot of snobby rich guys. I know the type very well. And that's not you. And I'm guessing that this was just one time out of several, anyways. A time that stuck out to you because it was a special occasion."

Stede nodded. "Yeah... I just sort of learned that if I held my hands together and gently bit my tongue it was easier to keep still and quiet..."

Ed gave him a look with the biggest eyes for that. "I'm never gonna be mad at you for that, Stede. You're never upset with me for squirming, are you? And you were 10. And 30 minutes is a long time when there's nobody around for you to talk to and you don't have a book or phone or anything."

Stede imagined little 10-year-old Ed trapped in a room full of boring adults talking about... taxes and mutual bonds or something, unable to escape. He imagined little Ed having to stand still and quiet all through that. He didn't want to imagine anything else happening to little Ed. But if little Ed started to get restless after a full half an hour (or, at least what felt like half an hour to a 10-year-old), then Stede absolutely wouldn't blame him at all. Stede would want to rescue little Ed from all the boring adult talk to talk about something cool like mermaids or dinosaurs, and let him sit down because his feet hurt from standing in dress shoes for so long.

Ed gently took Stede's hand in his own. "Puppies are meant to wag their tails, you know."

It was so silly Stede couldn't help but giggle, and Ed giggled too.

"It's too bad I don't have a tail, then."

"Oh, I bet it'd be so cute!! A fluffy golden retriever tail or something. It'd be so soft."

Ed said it with such adoration and love Stede couldn't help but kiss him.

"Your tail would be fluffy too."

"No it wouldn't! It'd be sleek."

"Nope! It'd be a big fluffy main coon tail. You can't change the facts, Edward."

Ed faked a pout and they both started giggling again. Stede squeezed Ed's hand, and Ed squeezed back.

A very long time ago, Stede learned that it was best for him to be still and quiet. And while nowadays the words "still" and "quiet" would not be in the top 50 his friends would use to describe him (some would even say that "quiet" is an antonym to Stede Bonnet), certain ingrained habits were hard to drop. But it was easier with Ed by his side. How many times had Stede witnessed an old habit of Ed's and opened his eyes to the fact that he didn't have to live that way anymore? Maybe Stede deserved to be on the receiving end of that interaction. Maybe. And if he thought about it while bouncing a little or twiddling his fingers and playing with his rings, that was okay.

stede and ed will be standing in line for a thing engaging in a rare bout of comfortable silence. stede will be standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back, and ed will say "you stand like a very polite puppy," and then not elaborate. stede doesn't know what to do about that.

[izzysprettyhusband]

Matching rings and kisses

Trans!Izzy x gn!Reader

summary: You and Izzy got some time off and you decided to explore the town a bit.

warnings: cursing and probably ooc Izzy

Izzy and you finally got a day off after working on the ship for god knows how long. You were told by Lucius that he, Stede and Edward would go on ‘’an adventure’’, and that you could walk around for a bit. So, naturally you and your boyfriend Izzy would go get some alone time and relax. Who knows when was the last time you two could be alone and show love and affection to one another?

“Hey, whatcha thinking about?” you heard from your side, snapping you back to reality. It was your boyfriend, who was desperately trying to get you to notice him.

“Oh, nothing, just thinking about when it was the last time we got some time alone together.” you responded, looking up at him. He isn’t the same as back with the crew. There is not a single sign of anger in his expression 

“It’s been fuckin’ forever, but now it’s just us.” he took your hand in his as you two walked down to the town, making sure you don't bump into other crewmembers. 

after some walking, you spot Stede and Lucius trying to sell the hostage you had taken a few days prior. You shoved Izzy behind a stone wall and hid yourself with him, making sure Stede didn’t notice you.

“Oh my fuckin’ god you can’t be serious-”

“Shhhh, shut it before he notices us!” you whisper-shouted and looked back at Stede. He turned his head around to look at you two but you pushed yourself and Izzy through a door of some kind and hid there, your bodies stuck together. You heard Stede call out your name a few meters from the door. You held your breath as you felt Izzy tensen up. After a few seconds you heard Stede leaving with Lucius, and you finally allowed yourself to breathe, as did Izzy. You looked up at him and smiled as you took his hand and pushed him further into the building you entered moments before to hide.

“Hey- i can walk by myself!” he scoffed as you walked into the darkened room which only had a few candles here and there.

“Oh great, we ended up at Spanish Jackie’s.” he sighed and stepped further into the booze smelling tavern. You walked around a bit, keeping distance from Izzy in case you spotted a crewmate. A small nice-looking lady caught your eye, and you walked over to her table. You noticed she was selling trinkets and gems, and as your eyes skimmed through the stuff you felt Izzy lean against the table. 

“Why hello there lads, would you like to buy anything?” she spoke but you barely heard her as your eyes spotted two matching rings with beautiful gems on them. You let yourself touch the cool steel and run your fingers over the stones. Izzy noticed you admiring them.

“Do you want them?” He asked as you nodded without realizing, and you started pulling out a bag of coins from your pocket, but Izzy stopped you quickly and put the coins back.

“How much for these?” he asked as he picked up the rings and some other stones as well

“Oh no you don’t have to-”

“Shut up. How much?” he cut you off and the old woman smiled

“Oh, why aren’t you such a gentleman? You can have them for free, they were’t going to sell anyways.” She spoke softly, but Izzy shoved a small bag of coins into her hands

“Take ‘em and buy yourself something nice.” He mumbled and took your hand as he walked back out of the building. It was already getting kind of dark, but you didn’t mind. He led you to a nice spot away from other people and turned to face you

“Izzy you really didn’t have to buy those for me...” You whispered, smiling slightly. He raised your hand and put the ring on you. He brought your hand up to his lips and gently kissed it, earning a smile from you.

“But l did, love. It suits you so well.” He blushed as you took the other ring from his hand and put it on his finger, smiling up at him.

“Never knew the fearful Izzy Hands was such a romantic person” You giggled as he pulled you closer by the waist, kissing you softly. You hently kissed him back, staying there with him like that for a moment.

“My my, i never expected you two to be found like this together” You heard Lucius say as you both pulled away from each other, noticing that he, Stede, Ed and Frenchie were standing there in awe.

“What the fuck- FUCK OFF!” Izzy yelled and pulled his dagger out.

‘What were you going to do with this man’ you thought to yourself as you grabbed his hand and followed the other back to the ship. You were both embarrassed to death and the teasing would not come to an end, even after Izzy cursed them off multiple times. You walked up to him and gave him a small kiss

“You know i love you, right Iz?” you asked as you kissed his cheek. In an instant he calmed down and kissed you back.

“I love you too, my darling pet” he whispered and leaned against your touch.

God, the amount you love this man.

[tomhardysteeth]

Clueless

Stede Bonnet/Edward Teach 3k words Summary:  The crew of the Revenge observe Stede's developing relationship with Blackbeard.

[ao3]

Lucius had gotten into the habit of knocking on the captain’s door and then letting himself in before Stede actually told him to come in.

He didn’t even realize he had been doing this until three days after Blackbeard arrived, Lucius knocked on the door and then let himself in and found Stede and Blackbeard sitting on the couch together, facing each other, Ed’s hand pressed to Stede’s torso over the bandage where he had been stabbed.

“Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry,” Lucius stammered, backing up and fumbling for the door handle.

Stede turned his attention to Lucius and frowned at him. “It’s alright, Lucius, what do you need?”

Lucius looked at his captain and then at Blackbeard, who was staring intently at Stede, not acknowledging Lucius’ presence at all. “Um, you had asked me to…You wanted me here to transcribe something for you, you said, but it’s OK if you’re busy, I’ll just—”

“Ah! Right. Yes. Please, have a seat.”

Lucius watched, warily, as Stede physically removed Blackbeard’s hand from his side. Blackbeard’s attention still did not waver from Stede.

“Edward, we’ll just be a few minutes,” Stede said.

Blackbeard growled and got up from the couch and glared at Lucius on his way out.

Stede smiled at Lucius and said, “He’s lovely, isn’t he?”

Lucius raised his eyebrows in surprise. He waited for Stede to laugh or say he was joking, but he didn’t. He only offered Lucius sincerity, so Lucius said, “Yes, Cap’n, he’s…great.”

*

Frenchie and Oluwande were sitting outside on the deck of the French ship, counting up the earnings from their pyramid scheme when Blackbeard stormed out of the party, Stede close on his heels.

They went to the opposite railing, giving Frenchie and Oluwande a perfect view of whatever argument they seemed to be having. Blackbeard pulled out his gun, and Stede put his hand on it and pushed it down until Blackbeard relented. He sat down on a barrel and deflated, and Stede took a step toward him and put a hand on his shoulder, seemingly speaking gently to him.

Blackbeard was looking down at the deck, but then Stede pushed a stray lock of his hair back behind his ear and Blackbeard’s head popped up. He looked up at Stede for a second like he was making a decision, then he grabbed Stede’s hand and held it against his cheek, leaning into his palm.

Frenchie and Oluwande looked at each other.

“You ever spent any one-on-one time with Blackbeard?” Frenchie asked.

Oluwande looked back toward Stede and Blackbeard as he answered, “Yeah. Once. He’s real weird, babe. Felt like he could go from being my best friend to throwing me overboard in the span of a conversation. It was so scary and disorientating, I couldn’t catch my breath for, like, several minutes afterward.”

“Hm,” Frenchie hummed, also turning his attention back to Stede and Blackbeard.

They were standing side-by-side now, looking out over the railing toward the water, and Blackbeard had his legs crossed in such a way that he could swing the heel of his foot back and forth, tapping Stede’s calf.

“D’you think Bonnet feels that way right now?” Frenchie asked. “Disorientated, scared, his guard up?”

Oluwande laughed loudly.

*

Jim might have gotten a little carried away during the fuckery, as evidenced by the cleanup taking so long that they were the last one in the captain’s quarters after everyone else had gone up to the main deck.

They were heading toward the stairs when they heard Bonnet speaking in a soft voice. Jim followed the sound and saw the bathroom door halfway open and Bonnet sitting on a stool by the tub. He put his hand on the side of it, and suddenly Blackbeard was in view, too, his head tilting to the side to rest against Bonnet’s hand. Jim was confused as to why Blackbeard would be sitting fully clothed in a washtub with no water, but they certainly weren’t curious enough to find out the answer. So they tried to leave again, but then Blackbeard came up out of the tub and wrapped his arm around the back of Bonnet’s neck and Jim reached for their knife just in case—

And then they relaxed when they saw Bonnet put his arms around Blackbeard to embrace him. Bonnet turned his head into Blackbeard’s hair and continued speaking in a soft voice, and Blackbeard gripped the back of his shirt tightly.

Jim had a lot of questions but didn’t really want to know the answers, so they left without being noticed.

*

Sleeping in a hammock on the main deck meant that Wee John usually woke with the light of the morning sun. The morning after the fuckery, though, he woke before sunrise to the sound of whispers near the mast.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the low light, enough for him to make out Stede pinned to the mast by Izzy Hands’ sword in his gut, and Blackbeard standing in front of him with his gloved hand wrapped around the blade.

“Just a slow tug, like we did the other night,” Blackbeard whispered soothingly, as Stede winced in pain.

“No, no, Edward, no,” Stede argued. He put his hand on Blackbeard’s shoulder and unsuccessfully dug his fingers into the leather before frantically fisting a lock of Blackbeard’s hair and twisting it around his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. Need—need leverage.”

Blackbeard huffed a laugh and put his free hand on Stede’s abdomen, right above the wound. “It’s OK, love. Breathe. You can pull my hair all you want, but not the beard. Ready? Just a little tug.”

Stede made a pathetic whimpering noise and yanked Blackbeard’s hair so hard that Blackbeard’s face came within inches of his. They stayed like that, eyes locked, so close their noses were almost touching, as Blackbeard slowly removed the sword.

Wee John looked from side to side at the Swede and Roach, but they were both sound asleep in their hammocks, so he was left as the sole witness to the ridiculousness before him.

As the sword slid out of Stede’s abdomen, both he and Blackbeard sighed with relief. Blackbeard immediately put his hand over the wound and pressed hard against it, and Stede’s hand covered over top of his to help. They were still so close. Blackbeard put his other hand on Stede’s cheek and patted it twice.

Then he leaned forward and whispered, “You did good,” before pressing a kiss to Stede’s forehead.

They carefully walked together toward the captain’s cabin.

Wee John once again looked around for anybody who might be awake. Like a ghost, Buttons was up, standing by the railing on the poop deck, and he locked eyes with Wee John and slowly nodded his head twice.

*

Lucius knew he had the time right. It was the same every day as long as they were at sea and not on some adventure. So he warily stepped into the captain’s quarters with his notebook and quill in hand and peered around for Stede.

“Cap’n?” he asked, wincing. “Do you need me to take notes today? If you’re busy, I’ll just…”

The wall to Stede’s auxiliary wardrobe opened, and Stede came out looking flushed and smiley. He was wearing an elaborate orange coat, but it was open to reveal that he was shirtless underneath and wearing Blackbeard’s leather pants.

Stede stammered out an apology that Lucius didn’t hear because he was distracted by Blackbeard coming out of the wardrobe right behind Stede. He had his hair up in a very neat bun and was wearing light blue breeches and white stockings, and no shirt or shoes.

“Where are you going?” Stede asked as Blackbeard slipped past him toward the door.

Blackbeard looked at Lucius then at Stede. “I was gonna take a piss off the side of the ship.”

“Dressed like that?” Stede asked condescendingly.

“I’m Blackbeard, mate, people aren’t allowed to question anything I do.”

Stede rolled his eyes. “Ed, you don’t know how to do the laces.”

“Oh. Right.” Blackbeard walked over to Stede and stood right in front of him.

Stede, casually, put his hands on the laces near Blackbeard’s crotch.

“Belly,” Stede whispered like some kind of command, and Blackbeard, insanely, pushed the little pudge of his belly up and out of Stede’s way.

Lucius demurely averted his eyes.

“There ya go,” Stede said sweetly, and Lucius looked back again to see Stede pat Blackbeard’s hip then pinch a bit of his belly fat between his thumb and index finger. “Cool scar.”

“Thanks, man.” Blackbeard ran the backs of his knuckles along Stede’s jawline and then turned on his heel and left, nodding at Lucius on his way out.

“Have a seat, Lucius, we can get started,” Stede said, like there was nothing amiss.

“Cap’n, don’t you think you should—would you like to, maybe, change? Change your clothes.”

Stede looked down at himself and startled a bit. “Oh my, I forgot I was wearing this.” He looked back up at Lucius and smiled. “Edward and I were doing a bit of a fashion show.”

“Mm-hmm, yeah, I get it,” Lucius said dismissively. “Change your clothes, Cap’n.”

*

As rumors spread among the crew, everyone became a little more wary around Stede and Blackbeard.

Lucius only went into the captain’s cabin once he had absolute verbal confirmation after knocking. He subtly hinted to everyone else that they should do the same.

Frenchie cornered Oluwande and Jim one afternoon and practically begged them not to start having sex in public sections of the ship because it would be too much to try to avoid walking in on three different couples. This happened two days after he walked in on Lucius and Black Pete, and seven minutes after he walked in on Stede and Blackbeard in the recreation room wearing undergarments and lounging on the floor together with lazy smiles on their faces.

(Oluwande and Jim both protested too much, laughed too forcefully at the idea that they were interested in sleeping with each other. Frenchie ignored them.)

The Swede claimed he saw Stede and Blackbeard kiss one evening after everyone had gone to bed—or, at least, they seemed to be about to kiss. Heading toward a kiss. And they both had a look in their eye like they were going to do a lot more than kissing, so the Swede climbed up into the crow’s nest to get away from them.

Fang said Izzy actually overheard them fucking before he left, that the noises they were making right there on the main deck of the ship in the middle of the night were unambiguously sexual.

*

Buttons was basking in moon glow with Karl one quiet evening when Blackbeard appeared like smoke next to him, not saying a word and not even looking over at him. Buttons watched out of the corner of his eye as Blackbeard undid the clasp of his trousers, unlaced his boots and removed his shirts until he was fully naked.

Blackbeard seemed to have no qualms about his body, so Buttons took a quick peek at it just to satisfy his curiosity about the expanse of tattoos all over his chest, arm, back and legs, the tableau of scars over a good portion of his tan skin. He respectfully avoided looking too closely past the thick black hair around his groin.

Stede came out of the captain’s cabin wearing just a robe and called out, "Edward! What the hell are you doing?"

Blackbeard turned his head to look over his shoulder at Stede, then he spread his arms out to the sides and said, "Moon glow, mate. You should try it sometime."

"Aye," Buttons agreed.

Stede mumbled something under his breath before going back to his cabin.

Blackbeard made eye contact with Buttons, smiled devilishly, and winked.

*

Roach was counting out the oranges and wondering how he was going to break the news to the captain that they needed to make a stop to get more when Bonnet and Blackbeard walked into the mess with teacups in their hands.

Roach started to say something, but Bonnet and Blackbeard didn’t see him over in the kitchen, so he went back to his oranges.

They were distracting, though. They stood near a window with their shoulders leaned up against the wall facing each other, and they kept laughing and raising their voices. Blackbeard said something about his tea being perfect, then he held the cup up to Bonnet’s lips and tipped a sip into his mouth for him before bringing the cup back to his own lips. A minute later, Roach heard a saucer touching down on a table and he looked over to see Blackbeard’s hands now free, now reaching for Bonnet’s hip, now rubbing back and forth and teasing at the fabric of his shirt.

“Captain,” Roach said impulsively.

“Yes,” they both answered, turning toward him.

Blackbeard dropped his hand away from Bonnet’s hip slowly and apologized for presuming to be captain.

Roach told Bonnet about the oranges.

*

Lucius did not want to be stuck in the woods with Stede and Blackbeard when they were both in foul moods and not getting along with each other.

He watched Stede clean a bit of snake out of Blackbeard’s beard. He said, “Oh my god.”

*

One night on the main deck, storytime ended with everyone breaking off into their own conversations and staying up way past bedtime. Frenchie was sitting with Wee John, Lucius and Black Pete and was hemming trousers for the Swede when Wee John said, “That’s a bit queer, isn’t it?”

Frenchie looked up from his work and followed Wee John’s line of sight to the doorway of the captain’s cabin, where Stede was sitting on a crate behind Blackbeard, who was sitting on the deck. Stede was concentrating very hard on splitting up Blackbeard’s hair into parts to braid it.

“Depends on what definition of queer you mean, mate,” Frenchie replied. He then frowned and said, “Actually, it really doesn’t.”

“Has anyone actually, you know,” Wee John began. “Has anyone walked in on them…?”

“Going at it?” Lucius finished for him. “Very nearly, but no.”

“I’m impressed we’ve all managed to avoid it,” Frenchie added. “They don’t seem very interested in privacy.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Black Pete said righteously. “When I worked for Blackbeard—”

Everyone simultaneously groaned.

“—I saw him cut a man’s finger off just for accidentally touching his hair.”

“Actually, Pete’s right,” Lucius said.

“Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome, babe. Ed was sitting next to me on the couch one day while I was taking notes, and my arm brushed up against his hair and he freaked. I thought he might rip my face off.”

They all watched Blackbeard cross his legs and wrap his arms around his knees and tilt his head back and close his eyes and lean into the press of Stede’s fingers through his hair.

Wee John said, “Sometimes I think we could mutiny and they wouldn’t notice.”

Stede finished a braid and smoothed it down before moving onto another section of hair. Blackbeard touched the braid and frowned. Clearly realizing how terrible Stede was at fixing his hair, Blackbeard started to gesture with both hands in the air, miming the movements of braiding and explaining to Stede how to do it properly, all while Stede fumbled his locks between his fingers.

“Nah, I don’t want to mutiny,” Frenchie said, smiling. “I like working for them.”

Lucius and Wee John hummed their agreement. Black Pete scoffed half-heartedly.

*

When Calico Jack showed up and Stede looked at him with murder in his eyes, the crew shared one collective silent conversation that boiled down to, Let’s just get through this.

*

“Blackbeard will no longer be sailing with us,” Stede announced the morning after Blackbeard left the Revenge with Calico Jack.

Everyone was extremely hungover, but alert enough to voice their disappointment. Oluwande, who had spent all night on the captain’s couch listening to him mutter to himself as he spied on Blackbeard through the window, felt like he had a solid enough reading of the situation to say something.

So he said, “You can’t just let him leave, Cap’n. You have to win him back.”

“Yeah, Cap’n,” Frenchie agreed. “You two are too in love to just let it end like this.”

The color drained from Stede’s face. “We’re…What did you say?”

Everyone exchanged confused looks. Lucius spoke up.

“Maybe you haven’t gotten far enough into your relationship to use that phrase yet, but we can all see it, Cap’n. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

“Blackbeard and I aren’t—we don’t—we’re not…” Stede stammered. Then he looked off into the distance and his face changed with realization. “Oh, fuck. We are.”

There were murmurs among the crew, the awkward realization that they’ve spent weeks understanding what was going on while Stede and Blackbeard didn’t understand what was going on.

“Fuck,” Stede repeated, dropping his head.

And then the English showed up, and Stede was about to make a suicidal decision when Blackbeard appeared at the side of the ship, soaking wet, yelling at them to hoist the white flag.

“Ed,” Stede said, and it sounded like a prayer.

The entire crew watched as their captain marched to the side of the ship, hauled Blackbeard onto the deck and kissed him so hard that their teeth made a clacking sound when they knocked together.

Blackbeard fitted his hands around Stede’s hips and pulled their bodies flush against each other and kissed him sloppily, occasionally stopping to mumble, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over.

The English had to quite literally pry them apart.

*

After Blackbeard called for an act of grace, he rushed over to Stede and pulled his blindfold off and cupped his face in his hand, then he kissed him, gently, and closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together.

It was the last time the crew of the Revenge saw Stede and Blackbeard together for many months.

*

“It’s weird that we thought they were together before,” Frenchie said, later, when everything had finally settled down and Stede was back and Blackbeard was regrowing his beard and they had worked out their issues.

“Well, we didn’t know any better,” Lucius said.

Up in the crow’s nest, Edward was sitting behind Stede, legs cocooning his hips, arms wrapped around his torso, mouth glued to his neck. Stede had one hand over top of Edward’s forearm and the other hand on his knee. It was early morning, and they were both wearing floral silk robes.

This was actually one of the more modest positions they had taken lately. Every member of the crew had walked in on them, in various parts of the ship, in various stages of undress, during any number of intimate and sexual acts. All the times the crew thought they had successfully avoided seeing Stede and Blackbeard going at it, Stede and Blackbeard had not actually been going at it.

“No, we knew better,” Oluwande said. “They were the ones that were fucking clueless.”

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 12

The captains were the last to return to the ship that night. They grinned and laughed, passing jokes back and forth as they boarded the ship, Lucius trailing a few feet behind them. The sun was still about an hour away from setting, starting its descent down towards the sea behind them, but the crew had all returned as soon as they could, most of them hoping to get early shore leave if they were able to show their captains that they had completed their assigned tasks. They had all stayed on deck, playing cards, crafting, or talking to kill time as they waited for their captains’ return.

“Ah, Mo!” Stede looked surprised to see them on board, leaning against the mainmast as they stared out over the water. They turned slowly as they realized they were being spoken to. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Have a happy reunion?”

Mo stared blankly, not sure how to respond. Stede’s good-natured smile began to fade as his crew member’s face flushed, their hands clenching as their breathing sped up. Suddenly, they felt like they couldn’t breathe. They could vaguely hear the muffled sounds of speech around them over the roaring of the blood in their ears, and hazily noticed someone stepping closer to them as their vision grew spotty. They flinched as someone touched their shoulder from out of their line of vision. Before they knew it, they had drawn their knife, spinning to hold it against the throat of their attacker. They panted, nearing hyperventilation, as they blinked rapidly, trying to force their eyes to come back into focus. Slowly their vision began to adjust, hitting them with a second wave of fear when they recognized that the figure they were holding at knifepoint was Blackbeard. His eyes were calm, maybe even slightly amused, and he held his hands out to the sides in a calming pose.

Mo gasped, dropping their hand back down to their side as they realized what they had done. Their stomach lurched violently, and they stumbled to the side of the ship, clutching onto the railing for dear life as they emptied their stomach into the sea. Once they had expelled all of their stomach’s contents, they turned, pressing their back to the railing of the ship, and slid down it to sit. They pulled their legs up to their chest, doing their best to level their breathing.

Mo looked up, realizing that the captains still stood, fixed to their spots, a few feet away. Stede looked at them with horror and concern, his mouth hanging open, while Blackbeard seemed lost in thought, as though he was puzzling something out.

“Sorry,” Mo rasped out, fixing their stare down on their boots. “Didn’t mean…for any of that to happen. Shouldn’t have used my knife. Didn’t realize it was you, Edward.”

“I take it things didn’t go well then?” Stede asked gently. Mo glared at him. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Their voice was stiff, and uncharacteristically cold.

Blackbeard frowned, his brow furrowed. “Hey,” he said firmly. “That’s your captain. You treat him with respect.”

Mo scoffed, feeling anger begin to stir in their gut, making them heat up. “Listen man, I have had an unbelievably shitty day.” They spat the words out. “I’m sorry I used my knife on you, but I am not going to deal with this shit right now.”

Blackbeard bristled, but Stede stepped forward quickly, placing a calming hand on his upper arm.

“It’s okay, Ed,” he said. “I can handle this.” Stede turned back to Mo, releasing the other captain, who huffed and crossed his arms indignantly.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it, Stede.” Mo’s voice was low, warning their captain not to try his luck.

“I understand. I just think it might help to get it all out there. Get it off your chest.”

The pit of fiery anger in Mo’s stomach grew, making them half worry that they would spontaneously ignite and burn up, taking the wooden ship with them.

“You want to know what happened?” they asked, a hint of humor in their voice. They lifted their head, tears already streaming down their face as they looked at their captain. Their stupid, incompetent, ponce of a captain. Mo pushed themselves up to stand.

“What happened,” they said, voice rising with every word, “is that my family is gone, Stede! All of them!” Their heart hammered in their chest, threatening to burst out. “Even my shithead sibling, my best friend from home! All of them are fucking gone, and they’re never coming back, ever, and it’s my fault!” Mo shook with rage and grief. “I was gone, and they all died, without me! So,” they stepped closer to their captain, who had stiffened and paled, “what do you suggest I do, captain?” They sneered the word, inches from Stede’s face. “No amount of talking it through will fix this!” Their hands balled into fists, their nails digging into their palms painfully. “All we fucking do on this ship is talk! Because of this stupid fucking ship, I was here talking while my family was in danger!” They choked on a sob. “And now they’re gone. Now I have nothing.”

“Shit man,” Blackbeard mumbled, shifting his weight. “That is a shitty day.”

“Ed!” Stede chided quietly, trying not to further upset his sobbing crew member. “Mo,” he said, turning towards them, “do you want to sit down? Maybe have a chat about this?” He gently placed a hand on the pirate’s shoulder, flinching as they wrenched themselves away.

“I don’t want to fucking talk,” Mo spat. “To you or anyone. Talking isn’t going to fix anything.” The feeling in their chest tightened. They brought a hand up to paw at the chain around their neck, their fist closing around the locket and ring that hung from it. They had to do something. They couldn’t sit with these feelings for a second longer without exploding, or possibly imploding. They had to get everything out, to make their emotions physical.

“I know what I need to do,” Mo said. They glanced up, their gaze wandering over the crew that stood before them, afraid to move for fear of upsetting them more.

“And what would that be?” Stede asked gently, not wanting to set them off again.

Mo met their captain’s gaze. “I need to fight someone.” He faltered, a cloud of worry descending on him.

“Oh, I, uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammered.

“Aww, come on, mate!” Blackbeard exclaimed, smacking his friend on the back jovially. “The poor little guy is suffering, they need to get things out. Let ‘em fight.” Stede looked back and forth between his crew member and his friend. Finally, he sighed, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Fine,” he said. “Fight, if you must. But please,” he added, painfully earnest, “be careful.” Blackbeard scoffed, rolling his eyes. He turned to face the crew. “Alright! Who here wants to help our Mo out with a good old-fashioned brawl?” The crew shuffled, looking at each other with uncertainty.

Mo felt like they could burst, overflowing with emotions they didn’t want. “Please,” they asked, trying to catch the eyes of even one of their friends. “Please, if any of you care about me.” They felt anger rising again as they all averted their gaze, no one daring to look at them. “Someone!” They felt their voice rise to a shout, pleading desperately. “Anyone! Please, just do this for me!”

Stede sighed as no one volunteered. “I’m sorry, Mo,” he said. “Doesn’t look like you’re going to get to fight this one out.” “Hold on,” Blackbeard said, stepping forward. “I’ll do it.”

The crew murmured amongst themselves, Black Pete gasping loudly.

“Oh, Ed.” Stede’s face was wrinkled with worry. “You don’t have to do this.” “I know.” Blackbeard began to step forward, edging closer to Mo.

“Wait!” Everyone turned, surprised to see Izzy approaching, rolling up his sleeves as he stepped down from the quarterdeck. “I’ll handle this, boss,” he said.

Even Blackbeard was taken aback, the crew murmuring again. “You sure, Iz?”

“Yeah.”

Izzy’s eyes were dark as he stepped forward. Mo could see the worry in his eyes, but his mouth was set in a hard line with determination. They gave him a look, telling him he didn’t have to do this, that they would fight Blackbeard if no one else was brave enough to step up. He gave a small shake of his head, making his point clear. Under no circumstances would he let that happen.

“Fine,” Mo said. They shot their crew a pointed look. “If no one else, will fight me, at least Izzy will.” They noticed Lucius and Frenchie standing together, Lucius with a hand over his mouth and Frenchie covering his mouth and nose with his scarf, hiding away as best as he could. They felt a pang, knowing they were worrying their friends, before shaking their head and focusing on the man in front of them.

Mo took a deep breath, raising their arms defensively. Izzy mirrored them, but did not move. He waited for them to throw the first punch, as usual. Lacking their usual patience, it only took a few moments for Mo to step forward and swing at Izzy. He stepped back, dodging easily, but didn’t swing back. Mo stepped forward again, pausing for a moment before swinging with their left arm, aiming at his torso. He deflected their swing, redirecting it so their arm moved past him without landing, but didn’t strike back when they left an opening.

Frustrated, Mo lowered their arms. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” they hissed, stepping close to Izzy, inches from his face. He didn’t respond, only looking at them with a sad determination in his eyes.

“Come on, Iz!” Blackbeard shouted. “Fight the poor bastard! They need it!”

Mo stepped back, swinging at Izzy again, aiming for his face this time. They growled when he quickly leaned back to dodge, expecting it and throwing a second punch at his stomach. The crew gasped as the blow landed.

“Well?” Mo asked, giving Izzy a moment to steady himself. “You gonna actually fight me now, or is this just a dance to you?” Still, no response. “Fucking fight me, Iz!” they demanded, growing more frustrated.

Mo stepped towards him again, forcing him further back, only a few feet away from the railing of the ship. They feigned a swing with their right hand, waiting for him to block them before punching him in the torse again with their left. This time, they didn’t give him time to recover, giving his chest a second punch with their right hand as he stumbled. They pulled back to level another blow when Izzy grabbed their arms, forcefully turning them and pinning them against him with their arms crossed over their chest, wrists held tightly in his hands.

Mo struggled, doing their best to free their arms, but Izzy’s grip only tightened. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered gruffly in their ear. “And I’m not going to let you hurt yourself.”

Mo yelled in frustration. They stomped their heavy boot on his foot, making the man groan with pain, but still he would not relent. Desperate, they threw their head back, knocking their skull into his with a painful clunk, but he still held on.

“Fucking fight me!”

“No.”

“You coward! Just fight me, Izzy!” They squirmed desperately, the feeling in their chest becoming too much, threatening to drown them alive. “Please!”

“No.”

Mo’s pleas turned to sobs, their struggles growing less fierce as they weakened, their emotions washing back over them. They leaned back against Izzy’s chest, no longer fighting to free themselves. They felt weak. Utterly pathetic as they stood in front of their crew, in front of their captains, and sobbed. They felt their knees tremble before giving way, sliding down to their knees on the deck, Izzy’s grip on them finally slacking to let them settle. He quickly followed them down, kneeling behind them and hugging them to him as they sobbed. He shifted, sitting down fully before guiding Mo to turn, sitting sideways between his legs. He cradled their head, pressing it against his chest, gently shushing them.

Izzy ignored the burning glare of his captain, the curious looks from the crew. He had half a mind to glare back, to dare anyone to say something, but there would be time to deal with them later. Right now, Mo needed him.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb along Mo’s cheek. They sniffled, clutching his shirt tightly. “Remember? We’ll figure this out.”

Izzy didn’t go so far as to kiss the top of their head, like he would have if they were in private. He knew there would be no deniability after this little display, no way to convince the others that there wasn’t something more between the two, but he was still a private man. If Mo hadn’t been so dangerously distraught, enough to fight the legendary Blackbeard, he might have held back and let them calm down on their own, but it was clear that he was needed.

Slowly, Mo began to calm down. Their breathing slowed, and their whimpers quieted as Izzy rubbed their arm. Once they had cried what felt like enough salt water to fill the ocean, they lifted their head. Izzy gave them a soft smile, wiping away the tears that stained their face. They leaned their forehead against his chest, breathing in the comforting smell of him, of sea salt, soap, and rum. They wished that they could stay like this forever, held close in Izzy’s arms, in their own little bubble, but they knew it couldn’t last.

Mo groaned softly as they lifted their head, forcing themselves to look over at the crowd that had witnessed their breakdown. Most of the crew looked baffled, clearly caught off guard by the whiplash of emotions that they had just seen. Lucius looked touched, if a little surprised, to see the two embracing. Frenchie had worry etched in his face, his hand playing awkwardly with his stubble as his eyes flitted around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Mo sighed, resigning themselves to their fate. “Go ahead,” they said, gesturing vaguely. “Get it over with. Ask your questions. I know you have them.”

Black Pete was the first to chime in. “Uh, what’s going on with you two?” he asked, finger flicking between Mo and Izzy.

“That’s exactly what I would like to know,” Blackbeard said. His tone was even, but his eyes were dark and he had an edge to his voice, like the calm before a storm, ready to crash a ship against a rocky shore. “Izzy,” he continued. “A word.”

Izzy’s grip on Mo tightened, a scowl working its way onto his face. He couldn’t disobey a direct order, but he couldn’t leave his partner either, not when they were so unstable.

“That’s an order.” This was Blackbeard’s final warning.

“It’s alright,” Mo said, making Izzy snap his gaze back to them. “You should go.” Izzy’s eyes clouded, torn between two loyalties. “I’ll be alright. I promise. Go, Iz.”

Izzy hesitated, giving Mo a gentle look and an even gentler kiss on their temple before pushing himself up to stand, walking towards his captain. Blackbeard slung an arm over his shoulder, tightly gripping his first mate’s shoulder as he led him into the captain’s quarter. Mo winced as they saw the way Izzy tensed, his gloved hand tightening and relaxing at his side.

“Um, I guess I should go with them,” Stede said, uncertainty clear in his voice. "Unless I should stay?” He turned to look at his crew, as if expecting them to tell him what to do.

“You should go with them, Captain,” Frenchie suggested, still anxiously fiddling with his scarf. “Maybe make sure they don’t draw weapons, and all that.” Stede raised his eyebrows. That clearly hadn’t occurred to him. “Good thinking, Frenchie,” he said. He hurried to follow his friend into his quarters, pausing as he reached the door to say over his shoulder, “Feel better, Mo.”

As the door swung shut behind their captain, Mo felt the eyes of their crew return to them. They pulled their legs up to their chest, wrapping their arms around them and tucking their face against their knees.

“Go on,” they said, voice muffled. “Get your questions out.” They lifted their head slightly, just enough to peek at their friends. Frenchie was on his way to them, quickly sitting down next to them and wrapping one of his long arms around them. The rest of the crew stayed fixed to where they stood, seemingly still processing.

“Pete?” Mo asked. “You got any questions?”

Black Pete fumbled at being put on the spot. “I-I mean, I never really got an answer to the last one, so I guess that still stands.” “Right.” Mo stretched their legs out, smoothing their hands along their thighs as they took a deep breath. “Okay. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.” They gestured to the deck around them. “C’mon, folks. Take a seat. We’re talking it through like a crew, just like Captain has always wanted.”

Slowly, the crew shuffled forward, each taking a seat in a rough semicircle around Mo and Frenchie.

“Okay. So, you wanted to know what’s up with me and Izzy?” Pete nodded, as did Roach, Wee John, and the Swede. “Alright. Well, long story short, we’re together.” Black Pete frowned, clearly not understanding.

“Whaddaya mean, together?” Wee John asked, his face scrunched with confusion.

 Mo rolled their eyes. Had they been involved with anyone else, the crew would have just accepted it. “I mean, we’re in a relationship. We’re partners.”

“Like…sexually?” Jim asked.

Mo groaned. “Okay, this is kind of my fault, I guess, for not setting boundaries. Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be answering any questions that Izzy wouldn’t want me to. We’re not just hooking up though, if that’s what you mean. We’re together. Like, a real couple.”

This time it was Roach who spoke up, raising one hand like a schoolchild, seeming more confused than ever. “Why?” he asked simply. “Why would you possibly want to be with him?”

Mo forced themselves to take a deep breath as Frenchie rubbed their shoulder, trying his best to keep them grounded. “Okay, some of that is fair. Izzy is…uptight. And he can lash out sometimes when he’s upset. I’m not blind to that. I know he’s hotheaded, and he can be a bit of an ass. But he’s changing.” They continued as their friends rolled their eyes. “It’s slow, but you can’t deny that he’s been nicer the last few months. And he’s not like that with me, never has been. He’s smart, and funny, and caring. And he treats me well, like I’m important.” Frenchie nudged Mo. “You are important, babe,” he said.

Mo smiled, resting their head on his shoulder. “He’s a good man,” they added. “I know you guys haven’t really been able to see that side of him, but you have to trust me that it’s there.”

“I have another question,” Black Pete announced.

“Go for it, mate. I want to power through all of these before Izzy comes back.” Mo turned to address the rest of the crew. “Please, no one give him a hard time about this. This is a really big deal for him. He’s really private, and awkward enough, and he’s already put himself through so much for me. It would mean a lot if you guys could hold off, or just save your questions and teasing for me, even if it’s just for my sake.”

The crew shifted, giving each other unhappy looks, but murmured in agreement.

“Uh, my question isn’t actually about Izzy,” Black Pete clarified. “It’s about…the other stuff. About your family.” Lucius elbowed him in the side, shooting him a dirty look.

Mo’s jaw clenched, but they nodded for him to continue.

“What happened? You said it’s your fault that…it happened, but how?”

Mo took a deep breath, shifting to press closer against Frenchie, holding his hand that wasn’t slung over their shoulder. “I-I have a brother,” they stammered. “He’s…not a good person. He’s violent, and unstable. He, uh, he spent most of our childhood trying to kill me, or hurt me in other ways.” They sniffled, playing with Frenchie’s long, nimble fingers. “He was always terrible, and really dangerous to be around, but he just got worse and worse as we got older. Eventually, it got to the point that I had to leave. He…he killed my parents, and my sibling. And I wasn’t there to protect them. So…yeah. It’s my fault, I guess.”

Lucius leaned forward, grabbing hold of the toe of their boot. “It’s not your fault,” he said. Mo looked up at him, their eyes somehow misty again, despite crying out what felt like all the water in the world. Lucius’ brow was furrowed, somehow both delicate and firm. “You’re not responsible for your brother. You did what you had to, and he made his own choices.” He paused. “I’m sorry you lost your family.”

“Me too,” Roach said, rubbing Mo’s back gently.

“Aye,” said Buttons. “You have our deepest sympathies, wean. Tis not easy to lose those we care about.” From behind him came a squawk. “Karl also relayed his condolences.” Mo smiled sadly. “Thanks, guys. And thank you, Karl,” they added. “You’re the nicest bird I’ve ever known.” “Aye, you’re going to make him blush.”

Mo chuckled weakly. They looked up to their crew. “I’m glad to have you guys,” they said quietly. “I know we’ve all had our ups and downs, but you all mean a lot to me.”

“Well,” said Roach, “you have said it before. We are a family.” Mo grabbed the cook’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

Jim shifted from their place next to Oluwande. “Are you going to get revenge?” they asked.

Mo frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have much of a choice.” They huffed out a humorless laugh. “His final way of screwing me over. I-I have to stay. I have to find him and kill him. So he can’t do this to someone else’s family.”

“You’re leaving?” Oluwande asked, shock clear in his voice. “But, what about the ship? And Izzy? Will Captain even allow it?”

Mo shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything Stede can do to stop me, not that I really think he’d try.’ They looked down at their boots, “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I can tell you one thing though,” they looked back up, “I’ll be back. I’m not letting you guys get rid of me that easily. As for Izzy…it’ll be hard. It’ll be hell to be away from him, but he can’t leave the ship. He’s loyal to Blackbeard, and you guys need him. Plus, I imagine he would not do well on land for long, not with the old sea dog that he is.” They smiled fondly, feeling a pang in their heart. “We’ll figure something out. I’d swim across all seven seas to find him if I had to.”

“You must like him a lot,” the Swede observed.

“Yeah. I do. Probably more than I should, for my own good.”

“Well,” Frenchie said, toying with the rings on Mo’s hand, “if you’re staying, I’m staying with you.” Mo sighed, looking up at their friend with a frown on their face. “You don’t have to do that. You’re doing well here. I can’t ask you to leave it all for me.” “Good thing I’m offering then and not waiting for you to ask.” He gave a small smile. “We’re the dynamic duo, babe,” he teased. “How could we ever split up?”

Mo let their head drop onto his shoulder, resting against him as they gave a small huff. “I don’t deserve you,” they mumbled.

Frenchie ruffled their hair affectionately. “Ah, you know you do. One way or another, I’m sticking with you.” He frowned. “It’ll be hard to get Izzy to stay behind, y’know?”

Mo shrugged halfheartedly. “He’ll understand. He won’t like it,” they conceded, “but what else can we do?”

Everyone looked up as they heard approaching footsteps, all eyes turning to see Izzy returning from his private chat with the captains. He looked tense and frustrated, even more than usual, as Blackbeard glowered at him, Stede holding his shoulder calmly as they came to a stop on deck.

“Iz?” Mo asked uncertainly. They pushed themselves up to stand, Frenchie stabilizing them as they stumbled on their intertwined legs before walking over to their partner. They held his arms carefully, trying to catch his gaze. “Are you alright, love?” they asked quietly, growing concerned.

Izzy looked up from the deck, finally meeting their eyes. His forehead was creased, and the corners of his mouth were tugged down into a frown. He didn’t look sad. Just tired. So, so tired. Mo squeezed their grip on his arm, trying their best to ground him without being too affectionate in front of their audience, especially the agitated Blackbeard.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Izzy rasped out. He brought an arm up to cup Mo’s face, pressing his forehead against theirs and letting out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes. Mo brought a hand up to rest on the back of Izzy’s neck, gently brushing their fingers against his soft hair as their thumb ran along the swallow tattooed on his neck.

“Izzy, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

Izzy cleared his throat, opening his eyes and standing back up, pulling back away from his partner. He glanced at the captains, looking for approval of some kind. Blackbeard scoffed, looking away, but Stede nodded, giving an encouraging smile.

Mo was confused when Izzy took their hand. “Come with me,” he said, leading them down into the ship, down to his cabin.

They tried to ask what was going on as they were pulled along, practically dragged behind Izzy as he walked them to the one place on the ship where they could have privacy. He just shushed them, promising to tell them everything once they were there.

Once the two had made it into Izzy’s cabin, Izzy making sure the door was secured behind them, Mo looked at their partner, waiting impatiently to be filled in one what had happened in his meeting with the captains. Izzy stood before them, looking unsure how to proceed. Slowly, he reached out, wrapping his arms around Mo, pulling them to his chest.

Mo frowned, still very confused, but wrapped their arms around him, holding him firmly. They propped their head up on his shoulder to look at him. “Izzy, darling, please tell me what happened,” they pleaded. “As much as I love your hugs, this is really freaking me out.”

He sighed. “I told them everything,” he began. “About us, how we’ve been in a relationship. Told them that we hid it because we didn’t know if it would be allowed, because of my position as first mate. They had some questions about that.” Mo’s face scrunched in confusion. “What kind of questions?” they asked, reaching a hand up to rub their thumb against his cheekbone.

“Asking if you were getting special treatment, if our relationship was distracting me.” He paused, grimacing. “If I had done anything to pressure you.” His voice was lower, gruffer than usual.

“Hey,” Mo said, regaining Izzy’s attention. “You’ve never pressured me to do anything, and I’ll tell the captains as much.” They scowled. How dare they insinuate that he would do something like that? That had to have been Stede, being overly cautious of his crew. Not even Blackbeard would be so cruel on purpose, to think so lowly of him or imply that the only way someone could love him would be through force.

Izzy sighed, leaning into the hand still caressing his cheek. “They were right to ask,” he said. “They had to make sure you were alright.” He frowned again. “I could have done without Bonnet’s shock at someone wanting to be with me, though,” he admitted.

“Oh, darling.” It hurt to see Izzy like this. He was already a rather insecure man, after years of being treated like he was only worthy of common decency when someone wanted something from him. “Of course I want to be with you. You’re a wonderful man, even if you can’t always see it. Fuck anyone who dares to say anything different. I’ll stab them myself.”

Izzy chuckled at the offer, unable to fight a small smile. He turned his head slightly, pressing a quick kiss to the heel of Mo’s hand, enjoying the light blush that crept over their face.

“I thought I was supposed to be the violent one?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yeah, well, people better start showing you the respect you deserve if you want it to stay that way,” Mo huffed. Izzy ran a hand through their short hair, his gaze filled with such love and adoration, that Mo was half afraid that their heart would burst.

“What else did they say?” they asked quietly, gently stroking his swallow tattoo.

“Not much. Edward was upset, to say the least, but Bonnet, twat that he is, was actually able to calm him down a bit.” Izzy was clearly reluctant to praise the eccentric captain. “Told him that everyone should feel free to pursue love, even pirates. That if he was truly my friend, he would want to see me happy.”

Mo smiled softly. “That’s actually pretty sweet. How did Blackbeard react to that?” Izzy sighed. “Well, he’s not used to this sort of thing. With the lives we’ve had, love is the kind of thing that gets you killed. He’s not happy about it, by any means, but Bonnet convinced him not to ban it outright.”

Mo grinned, snaking their arms up to rest behind Izzy’s neck. “Well, that’s good news, right? We can see each other, without having to hide anymore!” Their grin widened when Izzy smiled.  “‘Course,” they continued, “it probably won’t change anything too much. I imagine we’ll still want to keep private things private, and you don’t seem like the type to want to kiss in front of others. Not quite like Black Pete and Lucius,” they joked, getting a scoff and eyeroll out of Izzy.

“How do you feel about this?” they asked, turning serious. Izzy’s face clouded, his brow creasing with worry again as he frowned faintly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He adjusted his grip on Mo’s waist, pulling them closer. “I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore, or worry about my position getting in the way. But…” he trailed off, frowning.

“Are you worried about Blackbeard?”

Izzy nodded. “I’m worried that something will happen. That he’ll change his mind, and decide that you make me weak.” His grip tightened. “Blackbeard doesn’t stand for weakness. He gets rid of it.”

“Hey,” Mo said gently. “We’re going to be alright. Aside from him generally seeming like a decent guy so far, I really don’t think that he’d do anything drastic with Stede here. We all know how infatuated he is with him, and he wouldn’t want to risk losing that over some weird hangup of perceived weakness.” Izzy scowled, clearly not a fan of his boss’ relationship with Stede, and Mo paused, not sure if they should continue.

“I think he might be a little insecure right now,” Mo confessed, earning a confused look from Izzy. “You’re his best friend, and his oldest friend. You’re the person he’s always known he could count on, and he just found out you’ve been in a relationship that you’ve been hiding, specifically from him. That’s got to put him in a weird place.” Izzy frowned. “And on top of that, you’re his first mate. His very, very loyal first mate, who has always been purely devoted to him, and now there’s this weird new thing where he might think that if it came down to it, you’d choose me over him.” Izzy opened his mouth to speak, but Mo cut him off, wanting to finish their last thought before letting him speak. “It doesn’t matter if that’s true or not, but you have to understand that this is probably a lot for him to take in at once.” Izzy sighed in annoyance. “You might have a point,” he quietly admitted, clearly not thrilled by it. “Well, he'll have to learn to deal with it. What’s done is done, and I’m not giving this up just for his comfort. Especially not when he has that flouncy twat to comfort him.”

Mo chuckled. “Insults aside, that was actually very sweet,” they said, nuzzling their face into Izzy’s neck. “I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me today,” they whispered. “You really are the best, Iz. Don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Izzy kissed their forehead, rubbing their back. “Anytime, love.”

Mo felt more at home than they had for a long time, but couldn’t ignore the growing anxiety that was eating away at them. As much as it broke their heart, they had to tell him that they had to stay.

Reluctantly, Mo pulled their face away, giving Izzy’s check a soft kiss before stepping back fully. They cleared their throat, not sure how to begin.

“There is another thing we need to talk about.” Izzy frowned, but gave a small nod, encouraging them to continue.

Mo took a deep breath. “My family is dead,” they said plainly. “They’re dead, but my shithead, psychopath brother is still out there. I have to find him, and kill him, so he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

Izzy crossed his arms over his chest, adjusting his stance as he processed. His eyes flitted around, seemingly trying to find an answer to an unknown question on Mo’s face.

“Okay,” he said finally. “How do you propose we do that?”

Mo felt another pang. We. He didn’t even know what they were planning, and he wanted to help. They reached out and took his hand, uncrossing his arms in the process, and led him to sit on his bed. “I have to stay,” they said as they both settled down. “I have to track him down, wherever he went, so I can end this once and for all.” They paused, taking a deep breath before they forced themselves to continue, to say the hardest part. “And…you can’t come with me.” Izzy’s face changed rapidly, flashing from confusion to concern to hurt. Mo squeezed his hand, hoping he would let them finish.

“I love you, Izzy,” they confessed, their voice shaking with emotion. “I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything, but I need you to stay with the ship. Believe me, I want nothing more than to be with you, wherever we have to be for that to happen, but this crew needs you. The captains do too.” They cupped his face, feeling their eyes begin to water, hopefully for the last time that day. “I promise, I’ll come back to you. I just need to do this one thing, and then I’ll never leave you again, for as long as it takes for you to get sick of me.”

Izzy’s eyes were misty, a bit of water had welled up for him too as he stared down at his lap. “I’ll never get sick of you,” he mumbled softly, almost under his breath. He looked up, and Mo felt their first tears drop at how devastated he looked. “I should be with you,” he said, almost begging. “You’ve already been through so much, you shouldn’t be alone.” “I won’t be alone, love. Frenchie, sweet bastard, has already insisted that he’s coming with me. Basically told me that he’ll stow away if he has to.” Mo paused, wishing there was something they could say to comfort Izzy, to let him know that they would be okay, and that they would come back to him. “I know Frenchie isn’t the most intimidating person in the world, but he’ll look out for me, and make sure I don’t get too hot headed and mess things up.” Izzy was looking at his lap again, unable to meet his partner’s gaze. “Do you not want me to be with you?” he asked quietly.

“Oh, baby,” Mo whispered. They reached out to cradle his cheek, turning his head to look at them. “Of course I want you with me,” they said, as earnest as one could be. “It’s killing me to even think about being away from you. I want nothing more than to just stay with you. But I have to do this. And as much as I love this crew, they wouldn’t survive without you. I…I’ve already lost one family. I can’t afford to lose another. Please, I’m asking you because I trust you to take care of them. Once I do this, I’ll come back, and I promise we’ll never have to be apart again. There won’t be anything left for me on land, and we can just sail and pirate for as long as you’d like. And if you’d ever like to do anything else, I’ll be right there with you.”

Izzy cleared his throat. “I understand,” he rasped out. His brown eyes seemed extra dark as he looked at Mo, still just as upset, but resigned to his partner’s decision. He took their hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Just promise to come back.”

Mo smiled weakly, leaning forward to kiss him. It was a soft, desperate kiss, the kiss of two lovers who didn’t want to be separated. “I promise,” they whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his dark, expressive eyes. They rubbed his neck, hoping to reassure him, to massage away any lingering doubt.

“Should we go back up there?” Mo asked quietly, nodding towards the door.

Izzy groaned, letting his head drop down to rest his forehead on Mo’s shoulder. “Probably,” he admitted. “If we’re gone much longer, Edward might have a meltdown, think we’re doing something we’re not supposed to.” Mo chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair and gently scratching his scalp, enjoying the small sighs he let out at the contact. “I don’t think he really gets a say in what we do in here.”

Izzy barked out a laugh, muffled by Mo’s shoulder.

“I mean, what would he do?” they continued. “Just come in, stand in the corner and scold you? There’s no real, non-insane way for him to justify being mad at you for that.” They laughed. “Even the usual ‘real pirates don’t do that’ argument doesn’t really apply.”

Izzy tilted his head, leaning against them more fully as he looked up. “You’d be surprised.”

Mo tilted their head, awkwardly looking down at their partner. “Really?”

Izzy nodded. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, there’s always the Spriggs’ and the Pete’s on every ship, but a lot of pirates just fall out of the routine.” He smirked. “For some reason, some have trouble with intimacy. Seems they have a hard time trusting people.” Mo feigned a gasp, still playing with his hair. “Really? Well, that doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Mo chuckled. “Hey, you’re doing better than most would, I’m sure. I obviously don’t know all the crazy, terrible things you’ve seen during your life, but I’m sure it would be enough to drive most of the crew mad, me included, probably.” They pressed a kiss to his forehead, giving him a grin. “Plus, you’re doing well enough to be able to get back into the routine pretty easily. Or at least I haven’t heard any complaints. Sounds like you’re doing better than the average pirate.” They smirked as Izzy blushed, burying his face into their neck to hide how red his face was turning.

“Fuck off.”

“And here I was thinking you liked it when I praised you,” Mo mused aloud, enjoying teasing the man. “Well, if you don’t, I suppose I could always stop.”

Izzy’s face turned, glaring up at them as best as he could with his face stained bright red.

“Alright,” they said, giving up their game. “I would never do that, and you know it.” They kissed the tip of his nose. “You know there’s no way to get me to stop complimenting you. Not when you make it so easy to do,” they added.

Izzy huffed. Mo smiled, knowing he liked the attention, even if he wasn’t comfortable admitting it yet. They gave him a soft kiss, one he eagerly lifted his head for.

“Come on, love,” Mo said, dragging their thumb gently over the tattoo under his eye. “Think we should head back up. Don’t think we should find out just yet how Blackbeard responds when he thinks you’re doing things you shouldn’t.”

The crew still sat in a semi-circle on deck when Izzy and Mo emerged from the ship. Their positions had changed, some moving to be able to talk to others more easily, but they were all still huddled up, discussing how their days had gone and the shocking news they had learned. They looked up when they heard the door close, some hushing when they saw the subjects of their discussion had rejoined them.

Stede stood with Blackbeard at the head of the ship. Blackbeard was still visibly upset, his movements sharper and more erratic than usual as he spoke. He somehow seemed to have ever more energy that usual, a remarkable feat, and moved like his life depended on it, as if he was a shark who would drown if he stopped swimming. Stede was soothing him, as best as he could. His body language was calm, and he put a soft hand on his friend’s back, his touch light so as not to aggravate him further. Stede locked eyes with Mo across the length of the ship as they closed the door leading up from below deck behind them. Blackbeard turned when he saw the change in Stede, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Mo standing with his first mate.

“Uh oh,” Mo said, gripping Izzy’s wrist. “We’ve been spotted.” Blackbeard strode up to them, huffing lightly, as Stede followed in his wake. The fearsome pirate seemed more uncomfortable and agitated than angry.

“Izzy,” he greeted. “Mo. Can I have a word with you? Promise I’ll be quick.” He was speaking to Mo, who looked, shocked, at Izzy. Izzy met their gaze but didn’t react, letting them make their own choice.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course.” Mo followed Blackbeard as led them back to the head, leaving Stede behind with Izzy. They weren’t sure which conversation would be more uncomfortable, the one they were being forced into, or the one they were leaving behind.

Once they reached the other end of the ship, Blackbeard turned, looking Mo up and down intently, scrutinizing them. Mo shifted uncomfortably in their boots, trying their best to remain calm and not let their nerves get the best of them.

Blackbeard groaned as he leaned back against the railing. “Alright,” he said, speaking very casually, almost unsettling so. “Here’s the deal. Izzy is important to me. He’s my first mate, and my oldest friend. We know each other in ways no one else does. So,” he leaned forward, clasping a firm hand on Mo’s shoulder and squeezing, “if you hurt that man, in any way, I will kill you.” Mo stiffened, jumping at the sudden contact. “You understand me?” They nodded, not sure where this was going. “And don’t even think about getting any ideas about stealing him away. The best thing about Iz is his devotion. If you mess that up-“ “You’ll kill me,” Mo finished for him. “Got it.” They had no hesitation to meet the fearsome pirate’s gaze, making him huff out a short laugh. They cleared their throat.

“Just for the record, Edward, or Blackbeard, whichever you’re being right now, I really don’t care, I would never hurt Izzy. He’s a good man, better than I deserve probably, and I’m always going to do what I can to do right by him. As for his loyalties, that’s up to him.” They paused, examining the face of the man in front of them. “I’m not in this to steal him away from you. I just want to be with him, to make him happy. And for whatever reason, you make him happy, Edward. So, I wouldn’t dream of separating you, not when it would only break his heart.”

Blackbeard frowned. He obviously didn’t care for being spoken to this way, as though he was an equal to the pirate before him, or worse, a subordinate. Part of him admired their bravery though, and he gave a small smile, just an upturn of one corner of his mouth, when he recognized the fiery glow behind their eyes as passion. Finally, someone who wouldn’t hold back. Who wouldn’t shirk away from the name Blackbeard.

“By the way,” Mo continued, crossing their arms across their chest, “while we’re on the subject of treating people we care about well. I don’t understand the full nature of your relationship with my captain.” Edward tensed, his body language changing to be defensive. “I don’t know if I’d care to, and I certainly don’t think it’s any of my business. Whatever it is you two have, though, be nice to him, Edward. He’s a good person, and I would really hate to have an issue with you if you hurt him.”

Edward’s gaze was unreadable, but he gave a stiff nod.

“Good,” Mo said. “Glad we could get that settled. Neither of us will hurt anyone.” They gave a hesitant smile. “Shouldn’t be too hard, you seem a decent enough fellow. I was hoping that after everything came out, about me and Izzy, that we might be able to get along. Not that we weren’t before,” they rushed to add, “but, y’know. Izzy had suggested I give you a wide berth. Didn’t want to draw suspicions.”

Blackbeard groaned, shaking his head. “Sounds like Iz. Always has been an uptight bastard.”

Mo bit their tongue, resisting the urge to defend their partner, knowing he wouldn’t want them to start anything on his behalf.  Blackbeard eyed them again. He no longer seemed to be searching for flaws, instead just taking them in.

“You might do him some good,” he admitted. “Draw him out of his shell a little. Seen him with you. Before all of this,” he added, waiving a hand. “Thought he might like you, at least a bit more than the rest. It’s not very often Izzy meets someone he doesn’t threaten to stab or maim.” He looked up, catching Mo’s gaze. “Seen you get him to talk to Frenchie. Don’t think he’s threatened him either.” He sighed. “Don’t know how you’ve done it, mate, but you’re changing him. For the better, I reckon.”

Mo shrugged, looking down at their boots as they shifted their weight. They didn’t know how to respond to praise from Blackbeard, not expecting it in the slightest.

“He was already pretty great,” they said eventually. “He just needs some help with his people skills.” Blackbeard laughed, almost doubling over from the force of it. No, this wasn’t Blackbeard, Mo realized. This was Edward. Maybe it always had been.

“’People skills’!” he cackling, clapping his hands. “I like that! Oh, I tell you, you lot, on this crew, have got it figured out. The whole pirate thing is really not all it’s made out to be. Pretty soon it gets pretty fuckin’ boring, but you, you all make it fun! You don’t give a single shit what anyone else thinks about you, and it’s-it’s fuckin’ mesmerizing.”

“I think we have Captain Bonnet to thank for that.” “Yeah, you probably do.” Edward’s eyes twinkled with fondness, a small smile on his face. He cocked his head to the side, looking at Mo. “I think we will get along, Mo,” he said. “We already have one thing in common.” He pointed across the deck to where Izzy stood, trapped in a conversation with Stede, a slight grimace on his face until he realized he was being watched. His eyes darted to where his partner and his captain stood, his expression softening as he gave a small wave.

Mo blushed, a small smile creeping its way onto his face as they returned his wave.

“Aww, you guys are cute!” Edward teased. “For Iz, that’s a huge thing. Think the most affection he’s ever really shown is public is passing out on someone after drinking too much.” He chuckled as Mo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he doesn’t drink so much anymore. Thinks it’s a weakness to be out of sorts like that. Think it might also have to do a bit with how honest he gets. He doesn’t like being all open like that, thinks it’s weakness too.”

Mo hummed. Come to think of it, they’d never seen Izzy more than slightly buzzed.

“Well,” Edward continued. "Maybe you’ll be able to get him through that.” He frowned. “I miss the old Izzy. Anyway, I won’t be keeping you. Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page about Izzy. Like you said, I’d hate to have an issue with you. But,” he continued, “Izzy comes first. You do anything to him, and I’ll do what I have to.”

Mo nodded. “Aye aye, Captain Blackbeard.”

[zacharybosch]

Tasseomancy - Chapter 1

Only once they were out of sight of the café did the man stop and take his arm away, giving Stede a sheepish little grin. “Looked like you needed rescuing back there,” he said, and then held out his free hand. “I’m Ed.”

Stede, still a little dumbfounded, grasped Ed’s hand in a weak shake. “Stede. Stede Bonnet. I’ll pay you back for the tea, I promise. I get paid next week.”

~☕~

hello and welcome to my first fic for Our Flag Means Death, based on this prompt from the OFMD kink meme for a fic featuring accidental sugar daddy ed

this fic is all written and i’ll be posting a new chapter every friday! it’s very soft and it will also get very sexy later

~☕~

read chapter 1 below or here on ao3

“Hey, mate, what’s good to drink here?”

Stede Bonnet, who had been staring longingly at the blackboard menu of exotic hand-blended loose leaf teas while trying to convince himself that regular mass-produced tea bags were just as good, turned to look at the man who’d sidled up next to him. It was late in the day at Jackie’s Café, and he was the last of a few straggling patrons who’d slipped in just before the door was shut and the sign flipped. He didn’t look much like the other patrons, who were all invariably tired office workers trying to make their commute a little more bearable; he had a short stubbly beard and thick moustache, very long salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a half bun, and a leather jacket that looked like it had really seen some shit over the course of its life.

He was also very beautiful, which made Stede’s brain stutter a bit mostly because he’d never really thought that about anyone before. Stede thought people were pretty, or handsome, or good-looking in a vague, wishy-washy sort of way, but never beautiful. This guy had a wide, gently sloping nose, and a soft mouth, and delicate little wrinkles around his lovely dark eyes, and yes, beautiful was definitely the word.

What had Stede been thinking about again? Right, of course, who this guy was. Maybe a movie star? Not that Stede could even name any movie stars. And movie stars probably didn’t go to Jackie’s anyway. Perhaps an artist, then, or a biker?

Either way, he looked like someone terribly cool who would never normally talk to Stede, and he also couldn’t figure out if the man looked more like a coffee-drinker or a tea-drinker. Probably coffee, judging from the whole cool guy vibe, but it didn’t matter much anyway because Stede only knew about tea, and so that was all he could recommend.

“The Blue Lady tea is very good,” Stede said, defaulting to his favourite drink. “Little bit fancy, beautiful depth of flavour. Floral and citrusy. If you want to treat yourself, go for that.”

The man smiled at him slightly, eyes narrowing. “Is that what you’re having?”

“No, I… no. No treats for me today, just a regular Earl Grey I think. Not that the Earl Grey isn’t also very pleasant—”

“Next please!” called the barista, and Stede moved forward on autopilot. “What’ll it be?”

“An Earl Grey tea please, small, no milk. No, nothing else. Thank you.” Stede tapped his card against the reader, and was halfway to putting his wallet back into his bag when the barista started to make apologetic eyes at him.

“Sorry, it looks like the payment didn’t go through properly. Please could you try again? Maybe hold the card there a little longer…”

Stede already knew what was happening, but he pulled his card back out and held it against the reader anyway in a desperate, misguided attempt to stave off the inevitable. He’d tried so hard to budget carefully this month, but he couldn’t pass up the deal on those velvet curtains last week, and of course he had to get some throw cushions to match otherwise it would’ve disrupted the whole vibe of his little studio flat, and there was just simply no universe where Stede could let that happen. Home décor was absolutely an essential expense.

The payment was declined again. And then a third time. Stede was just about to start searching hopelessly through the lint in his pockets when he felt an arm around his shoulders.

“Aw, I can’t believe you went ahead and ordered without me, babe!”

Stede opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish. What on earth was going on? It was the man who’d asked him about the tea, draping his warm, leather-clad arms around him and saying, “Yeah, sorry, he’s with me. Gets a bit impatient when I take too long to decide, but he’s just so cute when he’s grumpy so I have to forgive him. Anyway, can I get, uh… two Blue Lady teas, please? Both large. Yep, that’s instead of the Earl Grey. Thanks.”

Before Stede could say anything, or even try to raise a hand to stop it happening, the man tapped his card on the reader and paid. He kept his arm around Stede and chatted away about nothing in particular while their drinks were prepared, and kept his arm around Stede while they each picked up their cups and said thanks to the barista, and then still kept his arm around Stede while they exited the café and walked off down the street.

It was the beginning of September and while the days were still hot, the evenings were just starting to turn with the crisp chill of autumn. As they carried on down the street, the cool breeze passed over Stede unnoticed, and all he could feel was the searing warmth of the arm around his shoulders.

Only once they were out of sight of the café did the man stop and take his arm away, giving Stede a sheepish little grin. “Looked like you needed rescuing back there,” he said, and then held out his free hand. “I’m Ed.”

Stede, still a little dumbfounded, grasped Ed’s hand in a weak shake. “Stede. Stede Bonnet. I’ll pay you back for the tea, I promise. I get paid next week.”

“Don’t worry about it man, it wasn’t much. I know what it’s like to be short before payday.” Ed took a sip of his tea, and his eyes almost popped out of his head in astonishment. “That’s fucking delicious. Didn’t know tea could taste this good without a million sugars in it.”

Stede preened a little, quietly pleased at the confirmation of his excellent taste. “That’s why I like it at Jackie’s. They brew it loose-leaf, and make each cup fresh so it doesn’t get bitter from steeping too long in the pot. The Blue Lady is their own house blend, it’s divine.”

“Get it a lot, do you?”

“Ah, I used to,” Stede said, a little wistful. “Not so much these days. I’m having to be a bit more strict with myself.” He had a sip of his own tea, and took a moment to bask in the flavour spilling over his tongue. Blissful. “I take it you’ve not been to Jackie’s before then? It’s practically an institution in this town.”

Ed turned to look down the street, back the way they’d come, and sighed. “Yeah, cafés were never really my thing. I work a lot. Or used to, anyway. Never had much time to faff about ordering cute little drinks and shit. Just wake up, down a pint of instant coffee, work all day, pass out, repeat.” He drained off the rest of his tea in one huge gulp, and made the weirdest, most satisfied noise that Stede had ever heard. He started to walk aimlessly along the street, and without thinking Stede fell into step beside him. “It’s no way to live really. Probably could’ve done with a few more cafés in my life.”

“I’ve always strongly believed that everyone has an inalienable right to spend time getting cute little drinks,” Stede said, with all the gravity of some deep philosophical pronouncement. He felt a pang in his chest for Ed; what an awful shame that he never had time to treat himself. No way to live, indeed. “I’m glad you’re making up for lost time now. Have you found an easier-going job, or…?”

“Nah, just made a fucktonne of money and decided to hand the reins over to someone else.” They were heading in the general direction of the seafront, and Ed gestured to the long stretch of beach and hazy ocean beyond it. “I worked on these beaches for years, every summer, all up and down the coast. Merry-go-rounds, jet skis, ice cream vans, pedalos, fuckin’ donkey rides, the whole lot. Sunrise to sunset every day, and then in the off-season I’d go labouring down at the quayside, hauling shit and hosing down fish guts, whatever needed doing. None of it was ever stable and so I never wanted to stop in case it didn’t start up again.”

Stede made a sympathetic noise around his mouthful of tea. “That sounds tough.”

“Yeah, it was. There were good times, for sure. Some friendships forged in fire and all that, you know the sort. But I just worked and worked and saved all my money and fed it all back into the work. I own a bunch of the warehouses on the quay now. Some of the fish guts being hosed away are my fish guts. I just signed a huge contract with a shipping company and I’m fuckin’ rolling in money now, and you know what I realised?”

They’d walked all the way down to the promenade that bordered the beach. The late evening sun was making its ponderous way towards the horizon, throwing long shadows over the ground and gilding everything with that warm golden hour light. The weathered old railings flaked with little rusty bits of paint as they stopped and leaned against them to take in the view. A gentle breeze tugged at Stede’s hair as he finished the last of his tea and said, “Money can’t buy you happiness?”

Ed snorted. “It can buy me a house and clear all my debts, which is the next best thing. No, I realised that being rich and having free time is a skill. I spent all my life scrimping and saving and just working my arse off and I never learned how to just switch off and enjoy the fruits of my own goddamn labour! I’m physically incapable of chilling out. It’s embarrassing. I go down to the warehouse all the time and hang around in the office and piss off the manager because I don’t know what else to do with myself.”

“Well, you went to Jackie’s and bought yourself a nice cup of fancy tea today. That’s a good first step!” Stede said, trying his best to sound encouraging and not at all patronising. “You could make it a habit, get yourself something nice every week and then enjoy a walk down here to watch the waves. You don’t have to be active to be spending time well.”

“So what you’re saying is, you want me to swoop in and buy you your cute little cups of tea on the regular,” Ed said with a laugh. “I don’t blame you to be honest, that tea was fucking nice.”

“Oh, you know that’s not what I meant. I can buy my own tea… most of the time. But it’s important to be nice to yourself, you know? You’ve worked very hard and now’s the time to enjoy the benefits. Treat yourself like you’d treat a loved one. Buy yourself gifts.”

Ed gave him an odd look, as if the thought of buying something just for the pleasure of it had never occurred to him in his life. “Sounds weird, but okay. It makes sense with other people: you buy them something or do something nice for them because you want them to like you. Why do I need to do that to myself? I’m not trying to convince me to like me.”

Maybe you need to, a little bit, Stede thought, but wisely kept his mouth shut. That wasn’t the kind of thing you can say to someone you’d only just met, even if talking with them felt like the easiest thing you’d ever done in your life. “But you also do it because it makes the other person feel loved and cared for and happy, right? And don’t you want that for yourself?”

Ed was quiet for a while. The tide was slowly coming in, one gentle wave after another, glittering with the last of the sunlight. “I guess so,” he said eventually, dropping his eyes down to where he was picking at a fleck of paint on the railings.

“Here’s a silly idea,” Stede said, trying to sound far more confident than he actually felt. “Why don’t we do this again? Meet at Jackie’s for tea. Perhaps get some pastries too. I’ll pay for myself, of course, but if having the excuse of doing it to please another person is what gets you to treat yourself, then I’m all for it.” He turned to look at Ed and gave him a nervous little half-smile. “How about it?”

Ed picked at the loose paint for a few more moments, and then suddenly straightened up and said, “Fuck it. Why not? The tea, the sunset, those sparkly fuckin’ waves… All we’ve done is have a little drink and a walk and a chat, and it’s the nicest evening I’ve had in ages. I’m so used to everything being a pain in the arse, didn’t realise it could be this fuckin’ easy.” He slung his arm around Stede’s shoulders, just like he had in the café, and smiled back at him, warm and sincere. “Let’s do it.”

Stede gave a happy, relieved laugh as Ed settled back against the railings, and they watched the seagulls potter about on the shoreline, conversation flowing down easy, meandering pathways until the sun finally sank into the sea. They discovered that they’d both been born and raised in this town, both had childhoods that they’d rather not talk about, and both ran to the sea as a means of escape. For Ed, the sea and the work it offered had given him the independence he needed to live his own life. For Stede, the sea was a dream, the setting of a thousand limitless fantasies to retreat into when real life was too crushing to bear.

They parted ways in the blue twilight, to the restless sound of the waves breaking on the shore and the sleepy calls of gulls settling in to roost for the night. Stede’s phone felt heavy in his pocket, weighed down with the new entry in his contacts list. Ed had input it himself; took Stede’s phone, cooed over his pretty leather flip case, and then tapped out his number and saved it under ‘Edward Tea(ch)’ with a seemingly random little collection of emojis after it.

Ed was— strange. Stede couldn’t seem to settle on just one read of the man. He was at once both dismissive and deeply invested, unbothered and very concerned, abrasive and achingly tender. There was an intense curiosity bubbling just beneath the surface that burst through in fits and starts, almost as if he was unsure whether or not he was allowed to ask questions and be interested in something.

All Stede could really figure out about Ed was that he liked him instantly. For all his contradictions, he was also warm and funny and haltingly, sincerely kind, and having his undivided attention was quietly thrilling. It had been a long time since Stede had made a friend, and he’d never had a friend quite like Ed. Was it too soon to be thinking of him as his friend already? Perhaps it was, but Stede had been so hideously lonely for so long that he was ready to cling to any possibility of friendship as though his life depended on it.

Walking alone on a Friday evening through this touristy, bustling seaside town was never fun for Stede. It brought everything he was missing into unbearably sharp focus; going past glowing restaurant windows, seeing couples or groups of people inside, eating, talking, laughing, being together. For the longest time, he’d thought it was normal to feel hollow all the time, no matter who he was with; hollow at work, hollow at home, hollow at his and Mary’s anniversary dinners and hollow in the bedroom afterwards. It was all he’d ever known, after all. With Mary, but also with his parents, and though he hated to admit it, even with his children.

Everyone always told him that his life was perfect, and so Stede learned that feeling like he was living in a stage play must be completely normal, and it was wrong of him to be unhappy about it. Of course everyone felt like they were acting all the time, of course everyone’s houses were carefully-designed set pieces aimed at pleasing an anonymous audience. They all had scripts and stories and costumes to wear and marks to hit. It was normal. How could he expect or deserve anything more than that?

He was happier now that he had left that life behind, of course he was. But the loneliness remained. It wasn’t the same wretched, soul-sucking, howling loneliness of his old life; rather it was a quieter, softer, sadder kind, like waiting for a phone call that never comes.

His walk home wasn’t far, and soon the busy sounds of nightlife faded behind him into nothing. He climbed the stairs to his studio flat, left all the lights off, and sat on his bed, staring out the window to the far smudge of the sea in the distance. He looked at the water, glittering in the moonlight, and thought about Ed.

[avastyetwats]

ᒥ☠ᒧ—        "Are you sure about this, mate?" Edward looks at Stede with a bit of amusement and a hint of concern mixed. "This ain't tabacco I'm smokin'." The stench of the herb was akin to pure cat piss, opium, something he often smoked to ease the pain of his knee. But, he holds out his precious pipe to Stede anyway. It was packed and lit, ready to smoke.

"Positively sure!" There was no hesitation in his answer. His voice was laced in confidence and certainty, his body standing straight with his chest puffed out. How bad could this stuff be? "I've seen you do it plenty of times, Ed, I'm quite sure I can handle it. I'm a regular smoker now, after all!" As if smoking two times in the past three weeks made him a regular smoker. The worst thing about it, sometimes Stede truly believed in his own words without even thinking they were just a little... exaggerated. Other times, he knew better, but he was a man that liked to impress.

Stede gently takes the pipe from his hand, treating it with the utmost care as though it's the most fragile thing he's ever held. Because in a way, it is. It's one of Ed's most, if not the most, prized possessions, and therefore, it's Stede's. He knows how precious this is to him, how only he has ever been the only one to use it, to even touch it, but here he was allowing Stede to hold it. If he were being honest, he figured Ed would've pulled out another one for Stede to try, but he didn't, and fuck, Stede was a little more nervous now, but he was careful. He moved slow. "Your pipe, Ed? Are you sure?" He questions, allowing Ed to change his mind if he so wanted to, but when he insisted, the blonde's eyes welled with tears. This was monumental, really, and he'd cherish this just as he cherished Ed, himself.

He brings it closer to his face and the awful stench has Stede's nose scrunching, but he tries to play it off with a smile. "Smells wonderful." He lies, holding his breath so he doesn't have to smell it for the next few seconds as he brings the device to his mouth, wrapping around the lip of the pipe and then...

He pulls it away. "Just so I'm clear, I inhale like normal, right? Do... do I hold my breath? Should I? Do I swallow? Would it taste better that way? Or do I just inhale and blow it back out? Not through the pipe, of course. Unless I'm supposed to. But then all the stuff would come out of it, wouldn't it? So not through the pipe, then?"