#ofmd is only a couple days away!!!!!!!!!! :)

[mngrsh]

been a few days and i still can't log back into my twitter account...realized i can't consume anything ever without livetweeting and having a place to record everything that happens to me as it does maybe i should start liveblogging stuff here like who cares either ways

[bowieandqueen11]

Moonlight Dalliance / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago but I think I might have accidentally deleted it off Tumblr because I can’t find it now! Hope you enjoy and I’ll have another request out asap! 😘

Warning: spicy, implied sexual content, sword fighting, mentions of blood and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or it’s characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Before you had even reached the deck, you could hear the clashing of steel reverberating through your bunk.

If it hadn't been for the pouring of sawdust through the cracks in the ceiling beams that rained down like ash over your nostrils: if it hadn't been for the graceful leaps of careful footsteps lightly stepping in box squares above your hammock, you might have chalked down the noise to Roach's snoring. In fact, as you swing your legs over to your side and try, as quietly as possible, to land on the floor of the recreation room without waking as many as your ship mates as possible, said cook was trying to do his best impression of what could only be called a foghorn mixed with an incredibly rusty blender.

'For God's sake-!' The sound of Lucius' voice disturbing you as you were trying to tip toe towards the door almost makes you jump out of your skin. Unravelling Black Pete's arm from around his waist, he gives a final groan into the side of his pillow before throwing it in a wide arch straight at Roach's head. 'If you don't stop snoring I'll stick my wooden thumb, splinters and all, straight up your ar-.'

Thankfully, the sound of you wincing as you grab onto the handle and inch the hinges slowly backwards is drowned out by a stout HMPH as Lucius' pillow lands on Button's stomach. You can't help but let out a snicker at the way the man shoots straight up from his slumber like a scarecrow being raised in a field. He arches one eyebrow and glanced around intently. 'Attack, we're under attack!' You take the opportunity of your fellow crewmates either lunging out of their hammocks, or being tipped out onto the floor during the frantic hustle and bustle that followed to escape out to the helm of the ship. In fact, Wee John seemed to take far too much pleasure out of twirling the Swede's hammock so that the man ended up a mess of tangled limbs, yelping like a fly caught up in a spider's web as Oluwande tried to grab his arm and pull him back out. You didn't mind the good natured jostle of your friends: you had spent so much of the evening tossing and turning, unable to get the thought of one arrogant prick in particular out of your mind, and so the excuse to leave your bunk and get some fresh air was more than welcome.

The sea air - god, the sea air felt so kind on your tired lungs.

The night seemed fragile, the moonlight tender as it spilt over the creaking boards of the ship and pooled in a warm puddle around your feet. It seemed to widen within your eyes, a fine mist spraying like a wicked phantasm from its shadows and coating the surrounding sea in thin tendrils of smoke. With a mind hazed with tiredness, you rubbed at the corners of your eyes and tried to chase away that dream-like glow only the late night could bring. The sails caught in the mild wind and groaned above you, masking out the sounds of Izzy's short pants as he wiped his forehead with the untucked end of his shirt. In fact, not realising yet that you were standing only a mere few metres away from him, he grabbed his shoulder and tugged his shirt off completely, discarding it with a frustrated throw at Stede's cabin doors.

Two hands grip tighter on the wood, willing its body to relax. The tang of salt could do nothing to burn away the fizzling want banging against your ribcage, nor could the cool pinch of the helm railings distract you from the fact that you had spent every second of that day restless; as if on repeat, every time you closed your eyes, or had your thoughts distracted away from repairing the helm, or talking to Lucius, or exploring the islands Stede had insisted you all stop at so he could take Edward off on some grand adventure, you were taken back to that afternoon. The feel of Izzy Hands, the soft ache in his eyes, so desolate, so hopeful: when he had been congratulating you on a job well done fighting off some remote Englishman who had tried to ambush your crew once you had docked, and behind the thrum of his beating heart he hadn't the wit to stop his arm from reaching out and brushing the back of his knuckles against the droplets of blood splattered on your cheek.

His smile had dropped almost immediately of course, and he had run like a gun was being unloaded against his heels back into his quarters and hid there for the night, but the look in his eyes when he had touched you... god, if it wasn't enough to make Davy Jones repent his sins, for even his adoration for Calypso would seem like hatred in comparison.

Yet only the smoky gleam of the moon melting over the champagne waves kept your aching head company. The moon, being a sneaky temptress, was in fact the one thing that drew you to the cause of your distraction; squinting down onto the deck, it took you a minute to remember the reason you had come up here in the first place.

Izzy Hands. In the flesh. And lots of it, if the sweaty gleam of his bare chest was anything to go by.

It takes a moment for your mind to shape the shifting umbra into a perceptible form: he looks angry, furious, even, as his sword slices the misty air like swiss cheese and gives lashes to the main mast. The cherry wood cracks easily under the weight of his blows, the poor shaved shards that land by his feet obviously taking the brunt of the walloping you can only assume is meant for your captain.

Swallowing your nerves, you call out to the fickle shape. 'What are you doing wandering about at a time like this?'

He startles as you wander across the ship towards him, perching back against the side of the mast he was currently tearing to shreds. Incredulously, he looks you up and down before bowing his sword. Your laughter sweetens the edge of his blade, and for a moment Izzy's step falters at the sound.

‘I could ask you the very same thing. Don't you know that all the horrifying creatures slink out from the depths after the full moon rises.' He tilts his head at you, pushing his tongue up against his teeth to stop a smile from breaking like welcome dawn across his face. 'Would hate to see you get dragged away by something... wanton.'

You scratch your cheek, trying your best to hide how you were growing flustered at his words. 'Well, at least if I get dragged away I'll be going with clothes on.’

He flushed at that, head tilting down as he crossed his arms gruffly over his abdomen and blinked languidly.

'What are you actually still doing awake?', you ask, crossing your arms and doing your best not to fantasize about leaping forward and ripping the rest of his trousers straight off with one tear.

'I couldn't sleep.' What he didn't tell you, was that he couldn't sleep because he was so in love with you his heart felt like it was going to bleed out of his fucking chest any time he tried to distract himself from thoughts of you.

'Yeah, neither could I.' What you didn't tell him, was that you couldn't sleep because you were dreaming of grabbing Izzy by that scruffy collar and kissing him silly.

A tense silence suffocated the two of you, sliced only by Izzy shooting his sword through the air with one last precise carve through the freshly hollowed mast. Izzy whips out his wrist, clenching his fingers into a tight fist to try and alleviate some of the burning tension running through his joints at the desperation to touch you.

‘You did well today. As much as I hate to admit it, you can fight better than any of those other morons.’

‘A compliment? From Izzy Hands? Pinch me, I must still be dream-‘

‘Your footwork is a little rusty, though. Could use some work, so you don’t trip over and fall on your own bloody sword.’

‘There we go. There’s always a but with you, isn’t there? You can’t just give the compliment and leave it hanging.’

'I'm just saying... it would be a real shame to pierce such a breast.' Your breath hitches as his eyes dip down to contemplate the sliver of skin still on show between the free flowing buttons of your dress shirt. He sniffles, fingers almost indiscernibly tightening around the metal of the hilt as he did his best to stifle the overflowing shiver that was running up and down his legs. He keeps a tight watch on you for a moment, before biting his bottom lip with his top teeth and darting his eyes out towards the ocean, both incredibly aroused and also incredibly sheepish from having shown such weakness.

'And to ruin such a fine blade.'

He runs his hand across his beard, motion tired yet calculated. Too jolted to speak, let alone run away back down to your bunk and hide your head underneath Oluwande's arm for the rest of time, you leave Izzy the perfect opportunity to pounce.

’Here… come here’, his knuckles fold as he beckons you forward with one hand, his other still resting on the hilt of his rapier as he jabbed it into the floor and let it drop after a moment. If he had let it go just then, as he watched the swish of your hips approach him, he had a pretty good feeling his knees would buckle underneath him. ‘I have far more experience than you do. You ought to learn from a real pirate. Not the hoity toity arsehole that runs around this ship like a headless chicken.’

‘If I remember correctly’, you say sharply with a growing smile, ‘you lost against that headless chicken.’

‘Don’t.’ Before you have time to realise what’s happening, Izzy has grabbed you by the waist and rugged you back. He prays you didn’t hear the hoarse groan that jilted from the back of his throat as your buttocks bounced back against the tensed muscles of his lower abdomen. His voice is gruff and warm against the shell of your ear, but his fingertips burn with the ferociousness of a thousand lantern fires as he snakes his free hand around your shoulders and grips onto the bottom of your chin.

'Don't tease me. It won't end well for you.' His thumb digs into your jaw as he tilts your head back, and you can feel his smirk branding it’s way into the bare strip of skin between the nape or your neck and the hollow of your earlobe. Your head is fully resting back against his forehead now, and his vice on you only lessens once he’s content that you’re too far gone to step away from him.

'Put your foot... here', he guides your right foot forward with the toe of his boot, almost sinfully slowly so he could feel every twitch and tense of your quadriceps against the inside of his thigh. 'There you go, lean your weight forward-'.

He tips you then, doubling you over so your back is pushed down against his groin. You swear you can feel the curls of his hair fall in loose curls down against the small of your back, gathering that his head must be hovering just above your tailbone. For your own sake, to stop your legs from turning into jelly and letting your full weight fall so easily into Izzy's grip, you pretend the haunting moaning sound you hear must be from the hinges of the sails as they turn through the night sky.

'Perfect form', he breathes out in a short gasp against the shell of your ear once he's collected himself, his arm tightening around your stomach as he places you. His right hand drags down your arm, teasingly burning a trail right down over the back of your hand and onto your fingers as he entraps them with his own. He turns your hand, his own clenching so they fold over your own. 'That's it, now jut forward and strike.'

His knee pushes against the side of your buttocks as he jumps the two of you forward; he shoves a little too harshly, though, and just before your feet nearly trip backwards over the rotund exterior of a rogue barrel, Izzy's hand has shot out like a viper to latch its teeth around your wrist. His fingers squeeze as he tilts you upright again, a sharp exhale whistling out of his nose at how close you come to falling into his chest.

'You're not a bad teacher', you manage to laugh out between gasps, 'but unless you're packing... who doesn't bring a weapon to a sword fight?' Straddling to the side, you manage to slide down and grab onto his discarded sword, sweeping the tip through the air until it landed just below his chin. Tilting the skin up, you gaze down at him through dropped eyelids, his fingers now nearly convulsing against your wrist.

You manage to break free of his hold, grabbing onto his bare arm and pulling him so now he was the one caught in your trap. Your bicep holds around his stomach, moving with each tremble of his breath as you graze the sharp edge of his rapier down across his face and jut it under his jaw.

The bastard only smiles as you hold the edge of his blade against his throat.

'Did you really think you could win this fight?', he asks between the tight lips of a knowing smile, and it takes you a second to realise that his free hand has wrapped round to hold onto yours on top of the handle. He shoves the blade away, kicking out with his foot so you trip backwards. He easily catches you before you hit the ground.

You dance your fingers up his chest as he holds you tight against him, dipped down like lovers do during the first dance. All the stars burn deep within the depths of his soul, pouring out like razing destruction from his eyes as he keeps darting a path between your nose, and back down to your lips.

'I don't think you won this either, Izzy Hands. In fact, I think we both lost something here.' You spread your fingers out over the bare skin across his pec, feeling the flittering thud of his heart pound out against your fingertips.

By god, if he had ever been so delighted to lose.

His lips ravish you like a man shrivelled under the island sun, desperate to drown; before your gasp can fully deflate from your lungs, your legs have been kicked out from underneath you by a swift and skilled kick from the side of his boot.

Oh, he had been planning this for a long time. Had been thinking of nothing but this since he had boarded this vessel. The tightness of his arm as it snakes around your back and stops your shoulders from taking the brunt of the bounce off the boards: the way he throws his rapier behind his back without a second care, instead replacing his clenched fingers with the reddened meat of your hip as he levers you down was far too precise and meticulous to be a mere spur of the moment, subconscious thought.

An uncomfortable heat shivers over your torso and settles as an anchor weight in the pit of your stomach as Izzy grazes his right hand over the top of your thigh. Plop. Plop. Plop. His leather gloves ball as he taps his finger one by one, teasingly, against your inner thigh, using them to shove your legs wider apart. His lips pull away with a sickeningly sweet pop from your neck only for a second, as he breathlessly glances his eyes in a jagged path across your face.

He looks wonderstruck.

You can't help but reach out to touch the tough muscle of his left peck, swirling your finger across the short strands of his chest hair. The soft scrape of your fingernail soon turns into your fingers fully spreading out like the tendrils of a swift current once you feel him bury his head into the curve of your neck; his chin juts into your pulse point and the bastard has the audacity to whimper at the feel of your palm brushing over the hardened tip of his nipple.

If he wasn't living out all of his deepest, darkest dreams, the man nearly collapsed on top of you may have felt embarrassed at the way his pelvis began to buck down and brush the tightening leather over the rising line of skin underneath your belly button. In your turn to be bashful, you can feel a flush crawl over your cheeks as Izzy grabs onto the bottom of your thigh and tugs you closer, fist clenching over your ankle as he throws your right leg up and over the side of his hip bone. His hands are surprisingly soft, surprisingly gentle as he claws and kneads and mewls into you, his lips dragging down and over to the side of your jaw now with quick, tempered nicks.

You're scared his skin is going to melt off at the bone with how it burns against your hip: it holds tightly to the side of your pelvis, his thumb toying with the tassels hanging from the band of your trousers as he impetuously grinds down against you again. You can feel his shit eating smirk as the flat edge of his tongue licks a hot streak up to the shell of your ear; he bites down, tugging at your earlobe and clenching his fingernails so tightly into the soft skin at the side of your buttocks that you were amazed he didn't draw blood.

‘What on earth was that noise?! What’s going on up here! Which hooligan is up making a ruckus on my ship? And so late! I know you wanted another bedtime story, but I told you, we all need our beauty sleep!’

The glim flicker of a handheld candle illuminated out from the stairway as the ruffled hair of your captain peered out past the door like a startled meerkat. With wide eyes, he mustered the courage to lift up the skirts of his nightshirt and take a step out onto the deck, away from the safety of Ed's gentle snores as they billowed out through the crack.

Before your captain can spot the two of you caught in such an awkward position: Izzy grinding against you like a needy dog, your hand bunched into a tight fist in his hair and your legs wrapped tightly around his taut waist, he shoves a gloved finger to your lips. Annoyed at being disturbed, you tilt the hand gripping his hair backwards and smirk to yourself as Izzy dips his head down to land between your breast bone to try and hide his groans.

Before you can tease him anymore, he's gripped onto your wrist and is tugging you up; he's near carrying you bridle style in his arms as he slips past the railings of the ship, mingling in with the shadows. His hand covers your mouth to stop your giggles, carrying you off down to the bunk of his room so the two of you can carry on your midnight dalliance where your poor, confused captain wouldn't be able to hear the pounding of the bed as its frame shudders against the wall and your screams echo out against the silent moonlight.

[ofmdrecaps]

07/07/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Samson Kayo; Leslie Jones; Vico Ortiz: OFMD S2 BTS, DateMyAbeulitaFirst; Rachel House + Cats; Gypsy Taylor; Uproar In Canada; #YouBearFineThingsWell; Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Our Flag Means Fanfiction Podcast; NeverLeftPodcast Preview; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika;

== Rhys Darby ==

New episode of The Cryptid Factor is available on Spotify!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Podcast

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika attended the Corti a Corte 2024 Film Festival in Italy this past weekend!

Source: manifesto_cieco Instagram

In addition to these lovely photos of Taika-- he posted another cut of the Belvedere Vodka video he Directed and Starred in with Future. Idk about you, but I love hearing Taika's voice again in these posts, you can tell he's feeling more himself and comfortable talking on socials again!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Waititi (@taikawaititi)

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson posted a preview of the new F1 movie he'll be starring in that comes out in July 2025! Check the trailer out below!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Samson Kayo (@samsonkayo)

Source: Samson Kayo's Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie out again at the LA Sparks game! She's also been out guest starring on Howie Mandel's show! The content was a bit raunchy so I will link to it instead of posting it here, but if you're interested, there's plenty of content!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leslie Jones (@lesdogggg)

Source: Leslie Jones Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

= OFMD S2 BTS =

Vico has uploaded more OFMD S2 BTS on their Patreon!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Patreon

= Date My Abuelita First! =

New episode of Date My Abuelita First with Vico! Check it out here!

Source: DateMyAbuelitaFirst's Instagram

== Rachel House ==

Alright, so Rachel has uploaded many cat videos to her Instagram Stories from a cat competition! They're adorable and she did a lot of commentary on each cat, so I figured I'd share one and then a couple picture of the rest. Yes, more cat content, I will never get tired of it!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram

== Gypsy Taylor ==

Our genius costume designer from S2, Gypsy Taylor put together this pretty amazing outfit for the McCrispy campaign!

Source: HayleyEganDesign's Instagram

== Uproar in Canada! ==

One of our fantastic crew-mates @uncertain-delights was kind enough to bring up on the last recap that Uproar is also available on Hoopla in Canada and you can watch it free with your library card! Check out HooplaDigital here!

Source: @uncertain-delights

== #YouBearFineThingsWell ==

Only a few days away from the start of Rhys' new show: The Hungry Games: Alaska's Big Bear Challenge! Our crewmates over at @adoptourcrew will be celebrating this upcoming week! You can check them out on twitter!

Source: AdoptOurCrew Twitter

== Articles ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew shared several articles that mentioned OFMD!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

In addition to the articles that mentioned OFMD @adoptourcrew also brought up the following article regarding queer storytelling.

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More Emmy Submissions tonight for @melvisik's Cast Cards! John Enroth, one of our OFMD composers, with Mark Mothersbaugh and Albert Fox 'for Outstanding Music Composition in a Series for Mermen'

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

Big Gay Energy Pod is back covering OFMD Season 2, Episodes 7 & 8!

Source: Big Gay Energy Podcast Instagram

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

The Silly Voices Episode of Our Flag Means Fanfiction drops tomorrow! Check them out on your preferred Podcast Platform via their Linktr.ee!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

= Preview: Jul 16 Never Left Podcast =

Never Left Podcast has an exciting upcoming interview with our Father Teach - Damien Gerard! It'll be released on July 16th! You can follow Never Left Pod on Instagram or check out their linktree for the best place to listen once it's released!

Source: Never Left Podcast's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! Here we are, at the end of the weekend again. Hopefully you got some good rest, or had some good clowning, or generally just had some time to yourself.

I have a bit of an odd question for you tonight, and that is --

Have you thought about Little You lately? About the little person you were years ago when you were younger? Little You could be a kid, or a teenager, or really anyone you were before today. Do you know how much Little You loves you? Do you know how proud they are of you for getting this far? Even if you're not in the place you want to be, that younger you is so grateful you're still here, and you're still trying. Little You loves you more than anyone else on this planet-- even if you didn't love yourself when you were them. They are still rooting for you every single day. Little You can see how far you've come, and Little You forgives you for all the things you hold against yourself. Remember to give your Little You a hug sometime, they're always here for you if you need them. Sometimes Little You's need the you you are now to help them heal the places they were in at the time--sometimes you're not ready for that, and that's totally okay too. One day you will be, and Little You will still be there, still loving you, and still rooting for you, and you can give them love right back when you're ready. You are wonderful, and unique, and beautiful, and brilliant and always have been lovelies---when you were Little You, and how you are today.

Even if your brain tells you otherwise sometimes-- You are so very loved, and you always have that Little You in your court if you need them. Feel free to exchange hugs with them whenever you need it, they're always there. I'm thinking of you lovelies, take care of yourselves and get some rest -- tomorrow is a new day.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

No real theme tonight, unless you want to consider it the Sunday Sillies. Gifs courtesy of two of the kindest, warmest, funniest, darling folks on the planet @agaywithcoffee and @ofmd-ann <3

[apomaro-mellow]

Honestly I was thinking about the end of ofmd s1 and it evolved to this. Steddie; omegaverse

Uhhh, loosely set in the Regency era but not particularly important, trigger warnings for sexual assault, use of date rape drugs

He should have never met Edgar Munson. Society dictated that their paths should never cross. That there would always be at least five degrees of separation between them. But the hands of fate were a stronger force. One that saw fit to have Steve find himself making polite conversation with an alpha below his station. Polite conversation turned to familiarity, which then turned to scandalous flirting, which then became a secret courtship.

Steve received the gifts from his beloved under some sort of cover. No one could know about their relationship. Even the nest offering, the last gift before an official engagement, had to be hidden. Of course they couldn't be publicly wed, not with Steve's family name, not on this continent.

That was how Eddie filled his head with visions of the New World. A place where they could be free and make their own lives. A land where no one knew how different they were.

"Just imagine it", Eddie had said, one morning after a night of lovemaking. "You, me, a pup or two perhaps, and a little corner of our own."

"Mmm, you paint a pretty picture", Steve said while playing with Eddie's hair. And it was a lovely thought. "But how's about three or four? Or maybe even five? I always wanted a big family."

He imagined children frolicking in fields, perfect mixtures of his and Eddie's features. Blissful as they were unaware of the pressures of high society that their dame had come from. Steve would give up the extravagance for all the love Eddie was able to store in this cramped room in a bed that just barely fit them both.

"Whatever my love desires", Eddie kissed him. "Just promise me that you'll run away with me."

"To the ends of the earth", Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.

As Steve got dressed, Eddie did his damndest to keep him here, where he had eyes laid on him.

"The boat will leave at sunrise tomorrow. You may as well stay."

"If I spend the whole day here, my father will send out a search party. We need to keep suspicion low if I am to be spirited away by you."

"'Spirited away'? By me? That's an odd way of saying you're taking us on a whirlwind trip across the ocean." Considering Steve put up the money for their passage and would be footing most of the bills until they were officially set up with jobs in America, it was more like Steve was taking Eddie on the trip.

"Either way, it would be prudent if I went home and treated today as if it were absolutely average." Meanwhile, an energy would buzz within Steve the whole time.

He was dressed and at the door while Eddie was still in his underthings, holding him tight. Steve was no better, loathe to let him go. How he wished for just one day the hours would pass faster so that they could start their new lives together.

"You have to let me go eventually, love."

"But what if I don't? Steve...my moon and my stars, why part when we will just see each other again?"

"You know why."

"I've got a bad feeling. I've read too many novels where lovers parted with a vow to meet again and they almost never do."

"You know novels rot the mind", Steve said. "And our lives are not fiction. You'll see. I'll go home, have some tea with mother, rebuff Sir Hagan yet again, and get through one last dinner before going off to bed."

Then, under guide of moonlight, he would meet Eddie at the docks just down the street. They could hear the gulls and sailors from here, it was so close they could both taste it.

Eddie's eyes were closed, giving a silent prayer that it would be so. A hope that the only hitch in their plan would be Steve getting seasick. Finally, Steve left and all Eddie had to do was double check what he was packing. There were a few clothes, a couple of items his parents owned before their passing that he was sure his uncle would want to see.

Wayne had gone to the New World just a few years ago, wanting to make the trip before 'his old bones gave out', or so he said. Eddie let out a wistful sigh, getting by as he imagined introducing Steve to his uncle. And hopefully, there would be a bundle of good news on the way. They would be at sea for a few months, after all.

------------------

Steve managed to sneak back into his room, no problem, but the moment he did, he could tell something was off. Steve's nest as usually immaculate, but he caught a whiff of something that shouldn't be there. Tossed right onto his pillow was a monogrammed handkerchief that stunk of Tommy.

He let out a scoff of disgust and picked it up, intending to put it away when he noticed one of his drawers was left open and had been rifled through. In a panic, Steve went towards it to confirm what he already knew. Eddie's nest offering had been a simple piece of cloth that he had scented. A small scrap that Steve imagined putting in a quilt one day.

Gone.

"Ah, there he is, the man of the hour."

Tommy came walking in from Steve's boudoir, right into his bedroom unannounced. Steve was knocked off his axis at the impropriety and even more so as he began to put the pieces together.

"What is this? Wh-why are you here? In my room? I don't understand."

"Don't be so anxious, Stevie. I was bound to find my way in here eventually. Your father was so kind to allow me in so that I could surprise you with my gift."

"My father?", Steve hissed, betrayed. It was all about being proper and following the right customs until doing the opposite suited one, wasn't it? The numerous times his father told him to stay on the straight and narrow, to never allow an alpha to skip steps with him. And now!?

"You haven't even giving me a single courting gift prior. I haven't even given you leave to court me." Then the open drawer came back to his attention. "Have you been going through my things?"

"Found something interesting while I was leaving my gift. Seems somebody snuck in a piece of trash", Tommy pulled Eddie's cloth from his pocket and Steve immediately lunged for it.

Tommy tried to move back but in his desperation Steve overpowered him and took it back, dropping the other handkerchief. Tommy watched as his own favor sat on the ground.

"You really are fucking a peasant, aren't you?"

"I think that's enough, Mr. Hagan", Steve's father, a Mr. Martin Harrington, entered the room.

"How could you let him into my room!?", Steve accused.

"Your room? Now I do believe this house is in my name. And I am within my rights to allow Mr. Hagan into any room I please. As for the courting, I have already given my permission for him to do so. And he has already given you all the gifts required. They're right their in your antechamber. You would have seen them, had you been in your room last night."

Steve held the cloth to his heart. He didn't like where this was going. What the last gift was supposed to mean. "You can't expect me to marry him."

"Oh you will, in about three days time."

"You don't think people will be suspicious about the short engagement?"

"Everyone knows that Mr. Hagan's had his eye on you. And you, of course, have not been entertaining any other suitors", Mr. Harrington's eyes narrowed on what Steve held. "Young love is so passionate these days. I highly doubt anyone will bat an eye at it. It's best you forget about all else and prepare for your wedding. Your mother wants it to be a grand affair."

"Father please-"

"As a matter of fact, I see no reason not to have you both live as newly weds now. Mr. Hagan can stay here until the wedding, where you will be housed in his estate. Keep my Steve out of trouble", he said to Tommy.

Tommy nodded. "Of course."

Steve wanted to cry out but knew it would do him no good. He spent the whole day, trying to plan some sort of escape. But there was always someone with him. That someone was usually Tommy, who looked like he was fine marrying Steve with a broken leg. Night fell and Tommy laid himself in Steve's nest. The one place he had felt safe besides Eddie's arms. Ruined.

Steve opted to sleep in the other room, on a couch most certainly not meant for sleeping. Tommy only urged him a little, seemingly assured that Steve would come around eventually. Steve checked the window and of course there was a man guarding down below. He didn't even have to check the hallway, hearing heavy boots pass over his door every few minutes, making sure no one was coming in or out.

Steve felt his heart clench as the hours pass and the first rays of sun began to shine.

-----------------

Eddie was waiting. The gangway was right behind him and the crew was ready to shove off. He knew only death would keep Steve from being here. Eddie was dreading something worse than death when he saw Jason Carver of all people stepping out of a carriage, looking smug as always.

"Waiting for someone, freak?"

"Where is Steve?", Eddie demanded, cutting through the bullshit.

"He has other more important things to attend to. Marriage can be quite time consuming business. I'm here to make sure you get on that boat."

"Like hell I'm leaving without him!"

Any fight Eddie put up was tamped down by the two lugs Carver had brought along, muscling him into a tight hold as they tied him up with rope and gagged him. Jason only put his hands on him to procure the boarding passes.

"He'll only be needing one of these", Jason said to the captain as Eddie was carried on board, struggling. "You can untie him once you're a good distance from the shore."

Eddie was screaming his lungs out from the gag in his mouth but it was anyone's guess as to what he was actually saying. The captain shook his head, sympathetic, but not enough to help Eddie out or get involved in any way. About an hour into the voyage, he was released and the first thing he did was try and jump overboard.

"Best to let go of whatever you just left behind", the captain said, patting his shoulder as a couple of sailors held him back from jumping into the sea.

"The love of my life is still there! He needs me! They're gonna...fuck...they're gonna..." Eddie knew what awaited Steve in his family had discovered them. He laid his head against the wood, determined to find his way back to him. He knew the captain wouldn't let him take any of the rowboats, and the crew kept watch on him like they expected him to steal it.

Their plan could still work. It didn't matter if they forced him into marriage, Steve would still love him. Eddie was just getting a headstart on building their new life.

-----------------------

The prospect of marrying Tommy under duress made him sick to his stomach but not knowing Eddie's fate made him feel worse. Steve didn't want to believe that Eddie would leave without him, but the alpha himself had admitted there wasn't anything left for him in this town. With him having an uncle overseas, Steve didn't think Eddie planned to stay much longer, even if they hadn't planned to elope.

But if he was still here, he would have shown his face by now, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave Steve here all alone. Especially when the wedding announcement went out. Steve held out hope, even as his wedding day came, that Eddie would burst in like a blaze and whisk him away.

As if reading his thoughts, his mother brought it up while preparing him for the day. He had mostly tuned her out. She seemed determined to ignore the breach of courting customs in favor of the fact that her only child was finally being wed. A load off her shoulders apparently. But she started talking about her worries about whoever Steve had been running around with and that brought him back in.

"Well, thank the Lord, Mr. Carver put him on a boat. We won't need to worry about him anymore."

"He what?"

"Shipped him right off. Now you only have to think about keeping Mr. Hagan happy. And all the handsome pups you'll have of course."

Steve was a ghost at his own wedding and if anyone noticed, they didn't say anything. He didn't come back into himself until night fell and Tommy tried to make him perform his wifely duties. Steve smacked him across the face at the first slight and kicked him out of the bedroom.

He kept the cold shoulder up for about a week before both his mother and father reprimanded him. Told him that after marriage, his next task was to let his husband lay his seed and continue the family line. The last thing Steve wanted was Tommy's hands on him, much less his seed in him. But he supposed he could let the man sleep in his own bedroom.

Tommy made his favorite tea as a peace offering, placating Steve with sweet words.

"You are my wife, my partner in everything. I only want you to be happy."

Steve wanted to believe that, he really did. And he was tired of putting up a fight. So he drank the tea. It fogged his mind and the rest of the night seemed like a hazy dream. And not a good one. His suspicions were confirmed when he awoke with an ache in his lower body.

Steve started to pack a bag right then and there. He couldn't stay here. Not if this was to be his life. Tears were streaming down his face at the violation. Tommy was just standing to the side, looking at him like he was a petulant child.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Leaving! Like I should have done in the first place."

"And where the hell are you going to go? A runaway omega with no skills, probably with a pup on the way?"

Steve froze and Tommy grinned, advancing on him from behind. He put his chin on Steve's shoulder and the omega whirled around, trying to put space between them.

"I went in deep last night. I kept you knotted and filled. I know it took. You leave now and you'll have no one to help you with our son."

Steve put a hand to his stomach. He didn't want to imagine trying to make his way and raise a child at the same time. No one would want to take him in, an omega with nothing to his name.

"What would you even do anyway? You've got no skills to speak of. Unless you want to be hired based on your bedroom skills."

Steve was too stunned to speak. He hated agreeing to Tommy, so he stormed out. But out just meant out into another part of the Hagan estate. Just another wing of this gilded cage.

Months passed and Steve's belly grew and he didn't know whether or not he hoped this pup was Eddie's. If there was any doubt about it being Tommy's they might give it away, or worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His first child was to be met with nothing but glee in a land as big as their dreams. But now he was dreading every development.

Even as he went into labor, it felt like it was happening to someone else. It wasn't until the baby was in his arms, that he realized what he had to do. Regardless of the true parentage, this child deserved all the love in the world. And considering how Tommy was, it would all have to come from Steve. He gave birth to a beautiful girl, so he was able to escape Tommy trying to name their first child after himself.

And so she was christened Octavia Hagan. And Steve worked his hardest to do right by her. It was never easy, not when his heart was a thousand miles away. But by the time she was two, Steve was sure of it. The big brown eyes and the light curl to her hair was enough proof. She was Eddie's. But it was also just enough to deny any accusations that might come his way, not that there was any.

Steve scrounged what he could and hid the money in a bookcase in Octavia's nursery. He might not be able to guarantee her the best quality of life, but anything was worth freedom. And perhaps they might even find Eddie one day. It was this that had Steve holding out hope.

---------------------

It took five years, but Eddie returned. he was dressed in clothes much finer than he'd left in, disembarking a vessel in which he had voyaged in first class. Being a musician that sold out venues had its perks. He held the marriage announcement that had come to the shores years ago. The marriage of Thomas and Stephen Munson, nee Harrington, and then later the birth announcement.

Eddie was here to make good on a promise.

Steve was none the wiser. All he knew was that Tommy was taking him out to see a famed violinist Edgar Wainson for his final night before the man took his show to Paris. Tommy was only going for appearances. His opinion on culture was whatever everyone else thought.

Steve had an appreciation for it, remembering how Eddie would play his fiddle both when they were alone and to earn some extra coin on streets and in taverns. He instilled it in Octavia as well, teaching her piano and allowing her to toss some coins to the street musicians they passed when Tommy wasn't around to scold them about it.

So he brought her along. Where he went, his pup went. Even now, Steve thought if he took his eyes off her for too long, something bad would happen.

The show started and the violinist took the stage and Steve's jaw dropped. Like a man possessed, he stood from his seat, then went into the aisle. Eddie's playing slowed as he watched someone approach. He stopped altogether when he saw who it was. He ignored the gasps as he dropped the violin and jumped off the stage to meet Steve who had broke into a run to meet him.

"I'm sorry!", Steve exclaimed the moment their arms went around each other. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I was-"

"I know, I know my love. I'm sorry I wasn't back sooner I was-"

"I know. God in Heaven Eddie, I know. But you're here now."

"And I'm never letting you go", Eddie promised, kissing him so hard, Steve thought his lips might be bruised, but he didn't care.

"GET OFF!!", Tommy bellowed, struggling through the row of people to get to them.

Unbidden thanks to her smile size and thought to go around the other way where there were less people, Octavia ran up to them, grabbing at Steve's pant leg.

"Mother?"

"Oh, a little one?", Eddie looked down, clearing his throat.

Steve whispered in Eddie's ear. "Your little one."

Eddie's eyes got big as he looked back and forth between Steve and Octavia. He felt something swell in his chest.

"I'll see you hanged for this, you vagrant!", Tommy yelled, finally at them.

Eddie's eyes narrowed. He could only imagine what he'd put Steve through if he was still like this. He still had a promise to make good on.

"Stevie, my muse, my light, there is a vow I still intend to keep."

"Eddie...."

The was murmuring from the audience, unsure of what to make of any of this. It was certainly an odd night at the concert hall. Eddie held Steve's hands, then got down on his knees.

"Runaway with me. Tonight, right now, both of you."

They hadn't packed or prepared anything. There was hardly any money on him and wherever they went, there was sure to be a chase, at least for a while. It wouldn't be easy, but Steve had already missed his chance once. He wouldn't miss it again.

"On your feet", he ordered. "You've got to get me to an altar."

Tommy's protests were unheard, even as he chased after the three of them. Eddie took the first carriage they saw, barreling down the road. Steve was surprised when they came upon the Hagan home. But Eddie told him he wouldn't let Steve leave without taking anything important. He wanted a moment to assure Eddie that he was the most important thing, but Tommy would be hot on their heels the moment he got a carriage. Hopefully the confusion of the headliner running off would give them time.

Steve got things for both himself and Octavia, including directing her on where to find his stash of money. They then went right to the docks, finding a boat that was shoving off that night.

"Where are you headed?", Eddie asked.

"Spain", was the answer.

"Perfect", Steve said, giving enough money for all three and also to expedite the departure.

Tommy would either be expecting France or the Americas. Only when they were settled below deck and the shore was a tiny dot in the dark did Steve's nerves settle. Octavia was pressed to his side and he kissed the top of her head. It was probably even more of a whirlwind for her, running off with this man she had never met. Time to change that.

"Sweetheart, this is Eddie. In truth, he is your real father."

"Pleasure to meet you madame", Eddie gave a sweeping bow, making her giggle.

"Are we all going to live together now?", she asked.

"Til the end of our days", Eddie promised.

"What about father?", she asked Steve, referring to Tommy.

"God willing, we'll never see him again."

It took them the whole night, plus a day and a half to get to Spain. The sun was setting, but they managed to find a church. They were wary of how they might be received, but the man who saw to them had a milky eye with a scar over it, so he must've had a well lived life. Octavia was their very willing witness, and so they were wed in a port town that they didn't know the name of.

"Well, it took longer than we planned, but we're finally starting our lives together", Eddie said as they settled in the beds of an inn. Octavia was already deep in her own slumber in her own cot.

Eddie was laying in bed ready to snuff out the light as Steve got in next to him. When he did, only the moon from the window lit their features. Steve grabbed Eddie's face and pulled him in for a kiss. One that was slow and deep as his hand started drifting down.

"Here?", Eddie whispered, apprehensive but doing nothing to stop him. He glanced at the child on the other side of the room.

"She sleeps like the dead. Besides, you owe me a wedding night."

[ramsaybaggins]

I just watched the Runaway Bride for the first time with pals and I have an idea for an OFMD AU

Ed is a jaded and bored dating columnist for a national paper. He keeps going on shitty dates and writing bitter columns. He's famous, he's making money, he's bored.

He meets an old friend, Jack, at a bar. Jack has just witnessed another awful date where Ed got torn apart for his column. Jack makes himself known, sits down to have a drink and a catch up with his old buddy. Tells him about this guy, Stede Bonnet, who's run out on a bunch of weddings. The Runaway Groom, they call him.

Stede Bonnet has run out on weddings. Arranged weddings, most of them. The thing is, both parties know the score. They know Stede won't make it to the vows. He's not supposed to. The parents? They don't know the plan. But Stede and his promised, they know the plan.

It started with Marry Allamby. Arranged. Miserable. An 18 month courtship which neither of them wanted. 18 months of parents off their backs. 18 months of Mary having time to find someone she wanted. Stede found out before the wedding and they hatched their plan. Stede ran away. Mary married Doug a couple of months later.

Since then, Stede has used the privilege and wealth of his family to help others find their loves. The engagement lasts as long as needed, and once they find their person, Stede runs away. Every time. He and his family's reputation can take it. He can be weak, a coward, a joke. His arranged partners? They receive sympathy and people rally around them, and a few months later they all marry their real destined.

Oluwande met Jim, and then Archie, and then Zheng. Lucius met Pete. Frenchie met Wee John. They are all Stede's family, now.

Only Stede and his betrothed know. It's why the plan works.

Ed writes a column about Stede Bonnet, the runaway groom. Stede complains, and Ed is fired. Fine. Whatever. Who the fuck cares, he was bored anyway.

Until he's offered a unique chance - go and find out the real story behind Stede. Stede who is currently engaged. Stede who is set to be married in a few scant weeks.

Over the course of those weeks, Ed finds himself falling in love with Stede Bonnet. He's a bitch, he's caring, he's honestly a bit of a cunt. He's wonderful.

He finds out what happened to the previous fiance. Jack Rackham. He wanted to trap Stede for the money, and Stede kicked him to the curb as soon as he found out what was going on. Never even made it to the fake wedding.

When Ed confront him: "People like us don't have friends, we're all just in various stages of fucking each other over."

Ed's in love. He's pretty sure Stede is too. Ed can't sit by and watch at the pre-wedding toast as Stede is cruelly and ritually insulted by the guests and his family. He stands up for him. Stede leaves and Ed confronts him. Confronts him about moulding himself to each new person.

When Ed confesses his love breathily with a kiss at the wedding rehearsal, Stede kisses him back. The wedding is called off. Ed offers to take the fake groom's place, but for real this time.

Stede agrees.

Stede gets halfway down the aisle two days later, and runs.

Ed crashes.

One day Ed shuffles into his lonely apartment and finds Stede sitting on his sofa. Stede confesses that Ed was right. That he didn't know who he was. That he was unloveable, that people from his family and his town didn't get to marry for love anyway. So instead, he helped other people find love through him. He did everything he could to help those he could.

He never helped himself, though. And he didn't know how. But he was ready now. He understands, now.

They get married, just the two of them and their weird celebrant, Buttons, on a crisp autumn day. Stede doesn't run. Neither does Ed.

[scarrletmoon]

it's izzy hands it's kylo ren it's billy from stranger things it's snape it's draco it's loki circa 2012-2014 it's a REPEATED PATTERN throughout all of fandom of an antagonistic white guy getting a devoted fanbase that is both disproportionate to his importance in the story and also misunderstands the white guy's role as an antagonist. they think their mean little guy is a misunderstood victim and they base their entire fandom experience around him. and then in season 2 ofmd went and redeemed izzy before killing him off to further ed's arc, something that is a solid choice from a technical writing standpoint but from a fandom perspective it built the izzy fans up into thinking they were right about how izzy has never been homophobic, izzy is a poor downtrodden abuse victim, and from day one izzy has been a protector and the only competent guy around and a loyal and dutiful first mate. and possibly the most significant part is that so many izzy fans have accidentally and unknowingly tricked themselves into thinking that izzy is a main character bc their fandom engagement revolves so heavily around izzy that they forgot the actual show itself doesn't, so they were completely blindsided by a death that has been foreshadowed since season one ("im not dying, not for that twat and not for you" and "only retirement we get is death" and the whole "plumb the depths, man" sequence where izzy was talking to stede through a death shroud ffs). and i want so bad to just ignore it but we literally got a queer romcom centered around an interracial couple and an incredibly diverse cast and an indigenous main character and a diverse writer's room and the season ended on a happy note and it's all about queer joy AND YET. soooooooo much of the post-season discussion has to center around the white side character!!! even in death izzy hands takes up a disproportionate amount of the fandom conversation and im exhausted. it's every fandom! every fucking time!! this isnt anything new this is the same time-honored fandom tradition of white man favoritism YET A-FUCKING-GAIN and im SO FUCKING TIRED OF IT!!!!!!!!!

(i get so scared when i turn on anon bc i’ve consistently gotten such shitty, cowardly messages through it but i’m glad this isn’t one of them lmao)

i know i’ve said this 374748 times but the last time i made the kylo ren/snape/white villain connection on twitter (i mean that’s on me, it’s twitter) i had people legit furious with me for calling them nazis which………..i literally never said

and i get the frustration. trust me, I GET IT. the white villain problem smashes right into white fragility and makes it almost impossible to talk about any of it. it means, like you said, that we’re talking about a fucking white side character in cast of amazing, nonwhite talent, because some people can’t handle confronting the fact that whiteness insulates them from the realities of racism, and that their ignorance and hostility makes them active participants in white supremacy

(and it’s really hard to explain this to people who’ve been taught that racism is when slurs and white klan hoods, because then they’ll say and do the most vile shit and CRY or fight you when you gently try to explain the racist shit they just did)

and because fandom is very queer as well as very white, we also have to contend with the kinds of white people who think that queerness somehow negates their whiteness. that they can’t express their privilege in contexts involving POC. that we’re making shit up to be victims and to minimize their pain on purpose. and time and time again, i have had my queerness erased by white people, so they feel comfortable ignoring criticism i only ever shared bc i was hoping for something better

i’ve said it again and again and again and AGAIN that it’s ESPECIALLY depressing seeing white people close ranks in ofmd fandom especially BECAUSE it has such a diverse cast and doesn’t shy away from discussing racism in all the ways it manifests. like, most of the racism in the show isn’t even subtle and y’all STILL elected to ignore it? do y’all not feel ANY shame about that?

and some of them don’t! bc they think we’re infiltrators. bc they’re only a few steps removed from “they will not replace us” as they see more POC try to join fannish spaces. and they’ll pretend they’re not trying to push us out bc they’re marginalized in other ways — deliberately ignoring the fact that they’re also crushing their fellow queer, disabled and marginalized community

so you’re tired? yeah. me the fuck too. we deserve so much better

[sugaploom]

here are my thoughts on wwdits (i went from liking the show to being indifferent)

i wish they couldve decided if they wanted to be a IASIP show or a OFMD show... like if theyre just idiots with short plots or if they wanted to set up for a longer storyline? it felt like they didnt know which direction to go until the last couple seasons

i was so disappointed with theeee finale where guillermo gets shipped off in a crate and they all travel, only for the next season to start with them all returned?! i wanted to see everything that happened 😭

Guillermo also being like. the slapstick comedic relief was funny for the first two seasons and then they started teasing bigger plotlines that went nowhere... I got tired of it ?? my partner feels the same, (them being latine) and seeing him be the butt of every joke just started grating on us after awhile. we wanted him to have a win or at least for things to look like they were changing

annnnd then they did the bit where guillermo feels like every day is the same and then the series felt like it went back to the same shit as before again...

and then the plotline with marwa (the lady nandor was with? his wife) was. hm. very unfortunate. and guillermo finally having a bf just for that to get taken away from him. idk. they put wind in the sails and then change direction that the wind vanishes

it feels like they were pulled back and forth with things they wanted to do vs just wanting these characters to be unchanging and shitty (which is fine bc iasip does that!!!!) but like. they just couldnt commit one way or the other and it felt disorienting ? bc i wanted the characters to change but the writing didnt feel the same

idk if any of this makes sense?? and thats not to say its not an enjoyable show (i still love clips and the performances themselves are top notch, a lot of the episodes on their own are very funny of course) but its sad that the writing felt so torn with what they wanted to do

idk if this resonates with anyone else but thats my thoughts... i hope we still get we'rewolves but afaik its been shelved u__u rahhh i wanted sooo much more from this show than what it gave us plbtbbtbtt lets see what the final season brings

[arenee1999]

I thought I had found something special in OFMD and its fandom.

There have been characters through the years that I've identified with in a fairly superficial way. Studious, likes to read, awkward, lonely, bullied -- and my list of favorite characters paints a rather revealing portrait. But then I found Our Flag Means Death and I found myself identifying with multiple characters in a deep, visceral way that I have never had before. And I found a fandom full of people that felt the same way.

Then the darker side of the fandom began making itself known. Close minded, racist, homophobic, puritanical twats. The canyon that despises Ed and Stede, the gentlebeardies that despise Izzy. All of the people treating Rhys, Taika and Con like dogshit and treating your fellow fans even worse.

And yet, through that many of us still managed to love the show, the characters, the cast and crew and each other.

Then, right when literally everyone was expecting a renewal announcement we were told it was cancelled. Many of us fell into depression. We rallied as best we could to fight for our show. But we were still left reeling.

That same day one of my only friends (and the only one I could talk to about anything)  stopped talking to me. But I pushed that to the side and spent all my energy on the fandom, on Xitter, posting and talking and making as much noise as possible with everyone else.

Then March came around we got that announcement. Despite our efforts and a large portion of the industry on our side, we weren't going to see anything come of our efforts. At least not for the foreseeable future. Long term has yet to be decided, but short term there's no hope. Many of us that had been holding our depression at bay with frantic activity, crashed, hard. Some of us were still able to find solace in the fandom. Our love of the show hasn't diminished after all. So we reinvest in what made us love the show from the start and we let it heal us once again as best it can.

I'm one of the ones that crashed. And I was left with no one to talk to. I held myself together for awhile but eventually began to spiral. Tried pushing away everything because if I don't feel anything it won't hurt as much. I had made rather startling progress on extricating my last couple hyperfixations. And I was rapidly becoming dangerously, severely depressed. Then a month and a half ago I find out why my friend suddenly stopped talking to me. Apparently I talked about OFMD too much and he just couldn't handle it. I was simultaneously too much and not enough. And as I was suddenly and violently smacked in the face with a wave of despair, I dug around to figure out what pulled me out of the last few bouts of heavy depression I suffered. Because fuck knows, I was in desperate need of something. Turns out the last two times it was Taika (both directly and indirectly with Thor Ragnarok and OFMD) and before that it was HP fanfiction (for 10 years HP fic kept me mostly stable and functioning). Which explains entirely why my depression kept getting worse by leaps and bounds as I was in the process of purging all of that from myself as much as possible. So I took a good hard look around and decided my mental health was more important than protecting someone else's feelings. I immediately quit trying to unravel my core psyche and personality and was just starting to reach something resembling functional.

And now the fandom has once again erupted into puritanical, homophobic bigotry and hatred. And I'm finding myself shutting down. The joy I was just starting to find again in this fandom is gone. I see nothing but ash and dust. Even the clips of Ed and Stede's first kiss, that usually bring an immediate swell of joy, leaves me feeling nothing but numb.

If you are that full of hatred for an aspect of the show, be it a character, a pairing, a plot point, a cast or crew member, keep it to your fucking selves. Create closed groups, communities, discords etc. with the rest of the hate filled "fans" and spew your garbage where those of us that are here for what we love can't fucking see it. We do not need to be splashed with the muck from your cesspit.

Better yet, listen to DJenks -

[lighthousecocaptains]

OFMD Week Day 5: AU/Crossover Mania

This is a modern AU where Ed is a car guy and Stede knows jack about cars lol and as always, also available on ao3

Stede smoothed the front if his pastel pink button up shirt. He had worked so hard to steam it yesterday only for the front to immediately wrinkle as he tucked it into his navy slacks. He’d tried to panic iron it, but it didn’t seem to hold. Now he was late for his appointment.

He pulled his car into a parking spot and turned it off, adjusting his floral bow tie—a light blue with hints of cream and pink in the flowers—before he got out and went inside the repair shop. It was hardly busy with only one person standing at the front desk chatting to a large worker with dreadlocks and a black-and-white striped shirt. Stede stood a couple feet back, starting a line.

Stede waited there for a few minutes, watching as other workers came out from the back to walk into an office to Stede’s right. The placard on the wall said “Edward Teach, Owner” which made sense. The place was called “Ed’s Car Repair and Detailing Services” after all, so this Ed guy was clearly in charge. From his point of view, he couldn’t see inside the office beyond a sliver of wall. Stede wondered what the owner looked like. Surely he would be at least as beefy as the workers that milled about, right?

As one of the workers came out of the office, he caught Stede’s gaze. This guy was much shorter but definitely not any less built, and he wore an all black mechanic’s jumpsuit. He looked Stede up and down before he grimaced, giving Stede a glare and heading out the back door again. Stede looked down at himself, wondering what had the man giving him such a look. Was it the wrinkles in his shirt? Aside from them, he thought he looked quite stylish.

The customer at the desk finished up and walked out, and Stede walked up to the desk with a smile. “Hello! I’m Stede Bonnet. I have an appointment to get my car inspected.”

The worker—his name tag read Ivan—said nothing as he typed into his computer. After a long moment, he looked at Stede and asked, “are you having any issues or do you just want it looked over?”

“Yes, there’s an issue,” Stede began. “When I try to clean the windshield, nothing happens. The cleaning liquid stopped coming out.”

Ivan blinked at Stede for a long few seconds. “Okay.” He turned back to the computer and typed some more. “We’re a bit backed up at the moment, so it will be a while before we get to your vehicle.”

Stede looked around the room. No one else was there. He turned back to Ivan. “How long do you think?"

Ivan sighed. He grabbed the mouse and clicked a few times. "Looks like we might be able to get to it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Stede's brows rose. "Well, you see, online it said that you would be able to see it right away, and it's a small issue. Will it really take that long? I have this important work event, you see. I need my car back by tomorrow morning."

Ivan blinked at him.

Stede let out a breath. "What if I paid extra? Is there a fee for rush service? I would gladly pay it."

Ivan did not seem to register this offer, as his expression did not change in the slightest.

"Please," Stede began to beg. "It's incredibly important that I make this event. Is there..." He looked around helplessly. "There must be something I can do..." His eyes stopped on the door to the owner's office. "May I speak to the owner? Perhaps he would understand my predicament."

Ivan sighed as he backed away from the desk and walked over to the office. "Sir," he said, opening the door slightly but not going inside, "a customer wants to speak to you."

Stede watched curiously as the door opened and a man walked out. He looked about Stede's age and had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and a thick black beard, both graying in spots, making him look distinguished. He wore a plain black t-shirt and dark, loose pants, and his tan arms had many tattoos. As he stepped out of the office, his large brown eyes fell onto Stede, and Stede found himself unable to breathe for a moment. He hadn't expected such a beautiful man to own a repair shop.

Ed came over to the desk. He read over the document on the computer for a moment, each blink showing off how long his dark lashes were. He furrowed his brows and looked st Stede. "What seems to be the issue, exactly?"

Stede smiled apologetically. He hadn't meant to bother this nice man. "Well, I was hoping I could have my car fixed before tomorrow. I have an important event in the morning."

Ed's eyes lingered on Stede for a moment, falling slowly over his torso. He cleared his throat. "I, uh...I like your bow tie," he said, his voice a tad softer than Stede had expected.

Stede's smile brightened. "Oh! Thank you." He patted it gently with a hand. "You have excellent taste."

The corner of Ed's lips upturned just slightly before his eyes fell back onto the screen. "Well, it seems a shame to waste your time for such an easy fix. I'll grab some wiper fluid and meet you by your car."

Stede nodded. "Yes, thank you! Thank you so much."

Ed nodded and went to the back door, taking one more look at Stede before he went through it. Stede smiled to himself as he turned and went out the front door, going to stand beside his car. The owner was going to fix his car. How nice, he thought, that he would offer such a thing. Stede was beginning to worry that he would have to leave and bring his car back another day.

A moment later, Ed came out the front door and turned to look at Stede's car. He whistled. "Oh, she's a beauty."

Stede turned to smile at him. "Isn't she?" He looked at his car, a bright turquoise Ferrari. Freshly washed, not a scratch on her.

"What's her horsepower?" Ed asked. "Is she modded?"

Stede stared uncomprehending at Ed. He didn't know what any of that meant. "Uh...I don't know."

Ed looked back at Stede for a moment. "Oh," he said.

They stayed there for a moment, just looking at one another. Stede couldn't deny that Ed was an attractive man, but he was a car man, and Stede knew nothing about cars. He just thought they were pretty, and looking good was very important for Stede's job as the owner of a country club (which he hated). He wished, often, that he could just be around cars all the time. He loved looking at them and hearing them and driving them and cleaning them. He did his own detailing, and he took great pride in that, but now he wished that he had taken the time to learn more about how they worked. Now, he looked like an idiot in front of Ed.

"First, we need to pop the hood," Ed said, setting the container of orange liquid down on the sidewalk in front of the car. He looked at Stede. "Do you know how to do that?"

Stede nodded, unlocking the car and opening the front door to pull the latch that popped the hood. He closed the door and stood there, waiting for Ed to fix the car.

Ed lifted the hood and moved the rod to prop it open. His dark eyes looked up at Stede and used one finger to make a "come here" motion at him. Stede's cheeks heated but he complied, going to stand beside Ed.

Ed pointed to a bright blue cap at the front left side that read Wiper Fluid. "See this?" He pulled the cap off. "This is where the wiper fluid goes." He picked up the container he brought. "You can buy a container like this at any car shop. Shouldn't be more than a few bucks for a gallon like this." He pointed at some words on the container. "You want to make sure that you get one that won't freeze in the winter. Here, you need one that goes to -20 degrees Fahrenheit. This one also helps repel water, which will help keep your windshield looking nice even when it rains." He opened the container and began to pour it in. "Try not to spill." When about half the container was gone, he stopped and recapped it. "There. That should do it."

Stede smiled. "Wow! That was so easy." His smiled faded as he turned to look at Ed. "Oh. I suppose I didn't need to bring it in to be fixed."

Ed smiled back at him. "It's alright. I'm glad I got to see your fancy car." He returned the cap to Stede's car and closed the hood. "I'd love to take a ride in something like this one day."

Stede's heart leaped. "Are you free now?"

Ed looked at Stede, startled. "What?"

"If you're free, we can go for a ride right now," Stede said with his goofy smile. "Otherwise, I can come back some other time. It's only fair since you took the time to teach me to fix the problem with the wiper fluid."

Ed scoffed and looked back towards the car. "I couldn't. I've got a business to run. They might fall apart without me there."

Stede looked back to the repair shop. "It doesn't look all that busy to me. And you deserve a break. It must be hard running a business on your own."

Ed let out a slow breath. "I don't know..."

"It would be quick," Stede said. "Five minutes. Of course, I won't twist your arm about it. Just thought that if you would like it, I would offer."

Ed turned to look at Stede, a smile growing on his face. "Alright. Let's go.”

Stede went over to the driver's side, his hand hesitating as he reached for the door handle. He turned to look up at Ed already at the passenger's side. "Actually...would you like to switch?"

Ed's eyes widened. "You'd let me drive?"

"I figure you must be a good driver, working with car's and all," Stede said. "Go ahead." He tossed Ed the keys.

They switched sides and got into the car. Ed put the key into the ignition and started the engine, excitement blooming on his face as it roared to life. "Oh yeah. She purrs."

Ed backed up and took them out of the parking lot, speeding up as he got onto the road. Their heartbeats quickened and adrenaline rushed in as Ed went faster and faster. Then, they reached a red light, and he slammed on the brakes. Ed breathed heavy, catching his breath. He looked over at Stede, worried that he would be mad, but Stede wore a large grin.

"That was incredible," Stede said with a laugh. He met Ed's gaze. "You drive fine cars well."

They stared at one another for a long moment as their hearts raced. Then, the light turned green and Ed had to look away to drive. He took them back to the repair shop, parking in the same spot Stede had earlier. They both got out, and Ed handed Stede his keys.

“Thanks,” Ed said. “That was fun.”

”Of course,” Stede said.

Ed went to turn and head back into the shop but hesitated. “If you ever need anything else…for the car, I mean, let me know.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Stede. “Repairs. Detailing. Anything. I’ll personally see to it.”

Stede looked at the card, beaming. “Wonderful! And what do I owe you for the wiper fluid?”

Ed smiled. “Consider it complimentary.”

”Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Stede said. “Please, let me pay you.”

Ed looked at Stede for a long moment. “How about dinner?”

”Dinner?” Stede gave a lopsided smile. “That sounds lovely.”

“You have my number,” Ed said before he turned and went back into the shop.

Stede watched him go with a happy sigh. He looked down at the business card again, a light feeling in his stomach. This wasn’t how he had planned for the day to go, but he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. He got back into his car, driving off with a silly grin on his face, excited about something in his life for once. He liked this feeling. He hoped this was the start of something great.

[iris-writesx]

loves me like i’m brand new | gentlebeard

read it here, or read it on ao3 <3

soooo i know i posted one fic on this account and disappeared, but one of my dearest friends encouraged me to watch ofmd with them a couple of weeks ago, and i am obsessed. i’ve watched the show like three times since then and have been grabbing at any fics i can get a hold of, and couldn’t stop thinking about some of my own. so that what i’m going to be doing :) this is my first fic i’ve written for ofmd (and the first fic in a while) so it’s probably not great, please be kind <33

i feel like it doesn’t need to be said, but just in case, i don’t actually know the canonical history of ed’s tattoos it’s all my interpretation

the title is from “call it what you want” by taylor swift x

2k words — fluffy and domestic, post-canon. recreational drug use and chronic pain is mentioned.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

From their little inn on the shore, the sound of the waves against the beach was a constant and grounding sound. Of course, that sound had been a constant for as long as Ed could remember — he had spent more time at sea than he had on land, the sea was always there. Even tucked away in his little bunk on Hornigold’s ship, in whatever bedrooms he claimed as his own on his many raids, or, more recently, in the confinements of the Captain’s quarters on The Revenge, the sea could always be heard.

Of course, from their little shack on land, the sound of the water was much more distant. It was nicer, in Ed’s opinion. It couldn’t be heard unless he focused on it, unless he sat and listened.

It helped when he was grounding himself… or whatever the fuck Stede called it when he needed to calm down.

The wind was gentle so the waves lapping against the shore were gentle and kind, just a soft noise that drifted in and out of his focus. As soft as the gentle candlelit glow of their bedroom, or the gentle strokes of Stede’s calloused fingers as they moved up and down his arm. As gentle as he felt, with the haziness that was building in his mind.

The smell wasn’t quite so gentle. Ed only smoked tobacco on the regular, so he hadn’t quite come accustomed to Stede’s preferred smoking habit. But they had been at their inn for coming up a fortnite now, and on their last adventure into town Stede had bought some. After years at sea, just like Ed, he knew that Stede sometimes got achey. Like Ed’s fucked up leg, his partner also suffered from pains, and Stede insisted it helped. And Ed’s fucked up leg wasn’t going to get any better, so he had agreed to try it with Stede.

They had waited until they could just spend the evening doing nothing. The living room was all painted after a day’s work, and whilst furniture still needed to be bought, and walls needed to be fixed, it was slowly but surely becoming a home. Stede wanted to get the crew over for a visit as soon as possible, and whilst Ed wasn’t quite so eager to disturb the peace, he admittedly did miss the group. With Izzy as the new Captain of The Revenge, he knew they were in the safest possible hands.

But he did miss the unlikely found family.

“Ed, darling,” with his eyes closed, he felt the warmth of Stede’s hand against his chin and tilted his head backwards without any further insistence. Stede’s thumb pressed to his chin and urged his jaw to slacken, lips parting, and soon enough he felt the warmth of Stede’s breath as he pushed the smoke from his mouth, which was pulled right into Ed’s lungs on his inhale. After practicing all evening, he knew to hold it, before Ed exhaled the smoke for a second time. “There we go.”

Ed could smoke tobacco until the sun went down, but weed? He had tried earlier, after Stede had meticulously rolled them, but he had almost hacked up a lung in the process, to which he had been urged to stop. And to be honest, he preferred this option — the closeness between them, the warmth of his breath, Stede’s hands gentle on his face to guide him where he was needed. At first, when Stede had first suggested shotgunning the smoke instead, they had gotten a little carried away and made out until they were both hot and out of breath. But after a few shared joints, they had both fallen lax and mellow. Ed was splayed out across Stede’s lap, his head against his boyfriend’s thigh, whilst Stede was propped up against the wall beside their bed.

His hair had long been pulled from the braid it had been held in all day, which allowed for Stede’s fingers to drag through the grey strands until his eyes closed and the haze of his mind grew even hazier. If left long enough he could’ve easily fallen asleep there in his lap, high and satisfied.

Stede’s fingers were on his arm again. But as he focused on the touch, they weren’t mindlessly stroking. It seemed like he was tracing patterns into his skin, and it was only when Ed opened his eyes and looked down, he realised that his tattoos were being traced. His eyes flickered upwards, and Stede looked so concentrated. It was almost entertaining.

“Like ‘em?” It was a silly question. Ed often caught him staring, especially at his tattoos. Some of them had been inked into his skin for so long that he often forgot that they weren’t supposed to be there, thought that they weren’t anything special. But Stede? Fuck, Stede looked at him like he was God, and he looked at his tattoos like they were biblical scriptures. He didn’t think he could ever get used to how Stede looked at him, how he made him feel. He hadn’t felt loved in so many years that it felt new, it felt overwhelming, but it certainly felt good.

“They’re beautiful,” Stede’s voice was soft, his eyes flickering up to meet Ed’s for just a moment before they were back on his arm. He continued to trace the tattoos, before his finger halted, and Ed watched his eyebrows scrunch. “Is that a game of hangman?”

Ed also looked down, saw the little game marked into his upper arm, and scoffed a breath of a laugh. “Yeah, we didn’t have any more paper. Said Jack could play on my arm instead,” he didn’t miss the way Stede’s relaxed nature stiffened just a little at the mention of Calico Jack, and wordlessly he lifted his arm to squeeze his thigh, thankfully feeling him melt again. “Got a lot of little doodles n’shit on there, mate. Half of ‘em don’t matter.”

Stede really seemed to focus, then. He shuffled upwards against the wall so he could lean down and get a closer look, and Ed could only watch his expression in the fondness he held only for Stede. His limbs were relaxed and loose, and he let Stede lift his arm up to see the tattoos closer without any resistance. His arm was turned from all angles, his touch remaining as gentle as it always was.

“You have a lot of stars.” Stede noted, spoke it as if he were talking to himself, the words soft and mumbled. His fingers traced over all of the little stars along Ed’s arm, his touch so light it was like he was feeling something fragile. And Ed supposed if he were to be fragile in front of anyone, it would be Stede.

“Stars are cool,” He shrugged, looking down at his own arm for a brief moment before his gaze returned to Stede. His gaze always returned to Stede. “Got a lot of them because I thought they were cool, actually. Look at that shit,” he pointed to the mermaid etched into his upper arm, just below his shoulder. “Mermaids are cool as fuck, Fang swore he saw one once.”

“Did he?” Stede looked so invested, just from his little unimportant story. He never failed to leave Ed surprised. Stede, the Captain who would read stories to his crew every single night so they slept well, was entertained by Ed’s stupid little story about his stupid little tattoos. How nobody had fallen for him before was beyond him.

Lucky for him, of course, but still beyond him.

“No clue. Still, sick tattoo, though.”

Stede nodded, smiled, before he leaned down a little further so he could press a kiss to Ed’s mouth. Just a light press, nothing like they had been doing earlier, but it was a kiss from Stede Fucking Bonnet. Ed could’ve lept up with joy. If he didn’t feel so languid, anyways.

“Ready for more, love?” Stede nodded towards the joint between his fingers once he had leaned away, and Ed nodded almost eagerly. Of course, he was probably more excited for the action of shotgunning rather than the high he’d feel from it. Anything to be close to him.

The joint was lifted to Stede’s lips, and he watched as the end started to glow red as he took in a drag, before his hand was on his jaw, tilting his head upwards so he could brush their lips, pushing the smoke from his mouth and into Ed’s. As he started to lean away, though, Ed lifted a hand to hold the back of his neck to keep him there, and kissed him a little more properly than before, exhaling as he kissed his bottom lip, feeling him melt into him.

Stede pulled away sooner than Ed would’ve liked, though he was leaning at an awkward angle. The hand that returned to his arm was enough to keep Ed satisfied, though, so he just let his eyes fall shut as he relaxed back into Stede’s lap.

“How’s your knee feeling now, love?”

Another reason that they had decided to smoke that evening was because after a long days work, Ed’s knee definitely felt a little worse for wear. He had been up and down the ladder painting, and whilst it wasn’t being used to run around during a raid or swim or fight, it had still been overused, and it still hurt. They had been at the inn for such a short period of time, but he had gotten used to relaxing. His knee had definitely grown accustomed to doing fuck all.

It had been hurting so badly after dinner that, as much as he wanted to help Stede clean up, he had to just sit and try to ignore the throbbing pain that shot up his leg. Stede had then urged him into their bedroom, where after changing into their nightshirts, he had rolled them their evening treat.

“Feels fine, yeah,” he had forgotten it was even supposed to be hurting. The languid state his body was flowing in was drifting him away from focusing on anything but Stede, really. Ed lifted his leg, experimentally bending it at the knee. He could feel the movement, could feel the pain there, but it was almost muffled. Dulled by his haziness. He lowered his leg back down, and tilted his head to kiss Stede’s wrist. “Forgot it was hurting. This shit is great.”

Stede chuckled, and his hand moved from Ed’s hair to his cheek. Ed nuzzled into the warmth, and felt the thumb pressed underneath his eye, stroking softly. He could’ve started drooling. “You just like getting to kiss me.” Stede accused jestly, and Ed laughed.

“The high sure is a bonus, mate.”

Ed kissed Stede’s wrist once more, before he relaxed his head against his thigh once again, sighing out deeply. He enjoyed this new life they had — the domesticity, the quiet, the company. Getting to fall asleep tangled up with Stede every night without worry of a raid or a storm was soothing. They could just… exist. Together.

Ed had felt like something was missing for so long, and for so long he had been wrong. He wasn’t missing more adventure as Blackbeard, or his solitude, or money. He had been missing his purpose — Stede. His purpose had never been Blackbeard, or being Captain — the latter was more Izzy’s purpose, who had proved that over his time as Ed’s First Mate time and time again. And now Ed was happy to think of his friend out there leading The Revenge.

But no, Ed belonged with Stede. He deserved this little life that they were starting to and would build for themselves.

He was finally truly happy.

“Why’d you get the spider?” Stede lightly stroked the back of his hand, and as Ed dove into the story behind that particular tattoo, he came to the realisation that he had never felt so at home in his life.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

comments would mean the world <3 requests are open!

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

BTS!! Don't Hurt Yourself

BTS: Write a dvd commentary about a passage from the fic (I cannot pic a fav so I'm just gonna give any old passage, I chose this one because I have a fun backstory about when I wrote it)(Full disclosure I own dvds but its been so long since I watched dvd commentary that I don't really remember what it's like so I'll just talk about the passage and how I made the decisions I did and how it came about, you know, the making of the passage.)

Spicy. alright I can do spicy.

Stede had always thought that a desire to hurt another individual out of malice or hatred was something that was intended to be done without their consent, that it would be dampened by the thought that the other person was into it. He was somewhat surprised to find that Izzy’s openly asking for it did not cheapen his own sadistic pleasure in giving the bastard what he deserved.

And he did deserve it, Stede decided as he pressed the head of his cock into Izzy’s tight, wet cunt. Izzy deserved to get smacked around and spat upon. Not just for the stunt with the blow job and the secret phone call, but also for calling Edward a whore, and a twat, and every other unkind derogatory thing he’d said in that courtroom and out, and for being generally an unpleasant, nasty little man that no one wanted to be around, and for causing Ed so much grief.

First of all, Bonnet, you are also causing Ed grief by fucking his husband but I digress

anyway. Backstory: This is from Chapter 7 of Don't Hurt Yourself. A chapter which I slaved away on for I think about two months, because I had written up to the point where Stede and Izzy Yaoi prat fall onto each other and Stede ends up with Izzy's tit in his hand or whatever, and I had no idea where to go from there ie how to get Stede's cock in Izzy's cunt in a way that was at least realistic enough for me to be satisfied with it.(emotional realities not physical realities, as is my right as an ofmd fic author, David Jenkins school of writing ect.) It's a problem I have with writing both Jack/Stede and Izzy/Stede, I have to seamlessly bring them from bitching at each other like they do in the show to fucking each other. Its not as easy as it sounds.

The breakthrough of the writers block came for me the same night I did magic mushrooms for the first time. My dealer told me that they would take about 3 hours to kick in (they took half that amount of time) and I was like, well I have three hours to spare so I might as well try to bang out a couple paragraphs. (it was the day I posted "why is it so much easier to write when the edible is about to kick in" It was not an edible I was waiting on. Idk why I said edible I regularly admit to drugs on here lmao.) So I managed to write a lot of the dialogue and then these two paragraphs. But the shrooms kicked in as I was finishing up the last paragraph, which meant that I ended it with some absolutely inebriated drivel about the word fuck and how it's used to convey both hate (e,g. shut the fuck up, fuck you) and sex that I had to delete when I was sober and I very rapidly lost the ability to write after that.

Anyway now that the fun back story is out of the way let's actually talk about what's happening in these two paragraphs. Stizzy hate sex! Stede and Izzy are sometimes hard to make fuck because Stede simply does not think about him, but they're also incredibly fun to make fuck. Muppet vibes off the charts especially when they're doing bdsm (which is the only kind of sex Izzy knows how to have). Miss Piggy slapping Kermit energy but they're not married.

I also tend to think Stede has a dark side. He's as mean as he is nice and he's real fucking nice. I love it when he's evil, because I'm horny about evil men. I think if Stede would think about Izzy long enough he could get dark with it (a vibe which is not incompatible with muppetry broaden your horizons for the possible.) and I think the only way to make him think about Izzy long enough is to have Izzy wrong Ed and make it clear to Stede that Ed was wronged and put Izzy in Stede's direct line of sight.

Basically, I want Stede to have hate sex and I want him to realize he's a sadist. I tried to convey that here. I think that Stede as a character has the capacity for so much love and so much hate. It's an important balance to strike when writing him, if you go too far in one direction you turn him into an unrecognizable monster (which I've seen certain people do) but if you go too far in the other he becomes an unrecognizable woobie baby which is so fucking boring dude. I hope I got across his sadist awakening well. he still needs a second one where you learn you can do it to people you like tho...

The ask meme

[izzy-b-hands]

fanfic asks! 5, 8, and 14

Ella!!! Thank you for asking 🫂🫂

Putting this under a cut because I am a wordy motherfucker as ever and This Got Long, I'm So Sorry💖

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Oh god. So Many fkldsjaflkdsjfa. I'll stop at twoish here, but pls know that if y'all want more for other fandoms, I can add to this post with more lmaoo, I love sharing these.

-There was one for LOTR that still sticks in my brain years since first having it: Sam suddenly leaving the Shire and wandering aimlessly, but refusing to settle anywhere.

Over the course of it, he would get help/care/concern from wherever he stopped with whoever remained in each location, but he would refuse to stay for more than a few days or accept more than like. Bare bones food/medical care/etc, leading to literally everyone he meets and of course his family and friends still in the Shire to go to Frodo to beg, plead with him.

One last adventure, because their grand adventure to save the world and destroy the ring changed Sam too, even if he never showed it as much. Don't let him go where no one else can follow, and bring him home.

Whether Frodo would or not was the bit that made me shelve the idea, bc I figured a lot of fans would not enjoy the potential avenue I was leaning towards, that he might hesitate only in that he isn't sure he can handle the journey himself.

That, and realising that the way my brain wanted to write it, it might well end with Frodo and Sam realising neither of them can bare to go back, and deciding to wander together until they'd either die or find elves sailing willing to take them to the Undying Lands.

-There's a whole bundle of Saints Row ideas, mostly Gat/Aisha/Boss and all fairly heavy in being AUs where Aisha lives and things go slightly differently for Gat in SR 3 &4 (I'd keep the aliens tho lmao, I want Aisha to get to go to space too dang it!!)

A lot of Gat realising that he keeps nearly losing the people closest to him that give him reason to live (Aisha and the Boss, tho of course the rest of the Saints as well to a slightly lesser extent), but that he doesn't know how to be anything else for them. He's a living weapon many a time, and is genuinely happy that way, but knows that it puts them in danger because he tends to always escalate things, even when later he can admit maybe shooting a motherfucker in the face over a Costco discount was actually not the best way to solve that issue. However, ultimately, The Boss can't seem to live any other way either, and he's accepted that he's at his happiest when he has both of them in his life, so he can't just up and cut with Aisha to a random suburb and leave the Boss behind. And Aisha, despite her contempt for a lot of it, during one of their Big Talks would admit that even if she dislikes what they do, she does enjoy the lifestyle and knows Boss and Gat would be losing their minds trying to adjust to any other life.

On that note, that's also a fic idea I'll probably never write for them lol, where they go straight and move away to somewhere entirely new with Gat and the Boss having to get actual 8-5 jobs (and maybe something remote for Aisha bc I know it would still be risky for her to ever leave the house but. Goddamn let her do something!! Talk to some other ppl!!!) and just. It's not going to last and they know it won't, all three of them, but they're also three of the stubbornest fucking people alive so. When it ends, it'll go up in flames for everyone around them until they're living in a way they find satisfying again.

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

Somehow too many and not enough at the same time. That is, I'm having a lot of percolating ideas for new things and ways to continue current drafts for a few different fandoms, but none of it is making it down onto paper (without being deleted two minutes later at least lol.)

That said, a couple draft examples:

-an OFMD S2 fix it gentlebeard POV, Stede specifically, wherein the crew comes to visit and be their first official guests and it's...a lot for them. They both already feel the place isn't fixed up enough and then the crew comes in all jovial and essentially as one big happy polycule w/arms full of loot (actually gifts for Ed & Stede that are indeed looted, but my two lil goofballs gotta have their emotional moments before they get that info and realise that the crew isn't just trying to show off & make them feel shit for staying on land.)

This one is actually done and ends happily w/some actual communication between everyone involved, but it sits unpublished bc I think it might be too saccharine (also every time I dare to write for Ed/Stede I get shouted at even if they claim they liked it so. not exactly eager to court that reaction again even if I have anon off on everything lmao)

-May have already talked abt this in prior days but, a Frenchie/Ed s2 au in which Frenchie convinces Ed to let everyone else go, so long as Frenchie agrees to stay with him as his new first mate (read: his new Izzy bc while Izzy is v alive in this, he's also hidden away until Ed and Frenchie leave the Revenge lol.)

I haven't decided on a final avenue yet for this, but right now have been playing w/: Frenchie & Ed operating as a two man wrecking crew while they gather new crew and a new ship, meanwhile Jim, Archie, Fang, and Izzy are working to find Stede and everyone else to tell them how Frenchie has essentially given himself a suicide mission, and even if they agreed to it so they could initially get away, they sure as fuck aren't going to let him or Ed die as a result of all of this. Cut to them having some silly fumbling reunion (literal list of ideas for this, they're all not great, trust me when I say this bit needs more work yet lol), then following the trail of blood, bodies, and tears to find Frenchie and Ed. Who, during all of this, are actually having some meaningful and approaching healthier conversations abt their traumas and have gotten closer during them. A lot closer. Very close. And it's not an issue of monogamy; they make clear at the start with each other that this might not have any legs outside of their current situation, and they both know that Stede probably won't care, and they've both been fucking Izzy so they know he definitely doesn't care (and has told them as much more than once after noticing them Noticing each other.) Their fear is that it will, and that what they both want isn't compatible (Frenchie knows they can't sail forever, but he'd rather die at sea. Ed, after struggling with it, admits that he's still not entirely sure if land or sea is best for him. But he does feel like he has to choose one over the other.) And what the fuck are they gonna do then? Because if that's the case and it ends what they have on every level, that'll mark yet another failure for them in both of their brains, and they're both entirely too fragile for that to happen, it'll be the crack that shatters Ed and splits the Box of Trauma in Frenchie's brain even wider open. But they do have love for each other, and can't ignore that either.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Oh man. I'm gonna be selfish and give myself two bc I can't decide for sure between them and the first one is entirely too selfish a choice on its own on top of that but

Dancer and/or All For Myself (even tho it isn't finished, I know, I know!!! I always want it badly to be finished. That's still my game plan for this one, I swear!)

Like, Taron probably wants nothing to do with the Kingsman stuff anymore, absolutely valid. But my god seeing Dancer as a full movie or extended series or something would be amazing. It's not everyone's cup of tea for many reasons and I understand why, but I worked so hard on that lil fucker. I'm so proud of it. It's one of the few that I think, if I got the opportunity, I could edit and change up enough to sell as just above direct to dvd level movie script. I can't describe how it felt writing it; it was a particular feeling and magic I have not recaptured since writing this fucking fic lmao (still chasing it tho!)

The second one is just because I like seeing Con and Samba together and they seem to have fun and both enjoy the concept of rizzy so like. If in some universe where incredibly unlikely things actually happen, they came to me and asked for finished script version of AFM, y'all would not see me for ages bc I would lock myself down until I had it done. I'm talking living off of red bull and edibles and whatever snacks I remember to cram in my face-fueled writing, coming out the other end in need of a shower, actual food, sleep, but holding a beautifully shining script. I've done it before, and I would happily do it again for them lol. Plus, it would involve filming locally, and I just think that would be cool to do, to showcase the area. Lots of very cool and pretty filming locations, beach days...idk, I'd be happy to come along for every day of it and just do shit to help out. Pay me if you can/want, but I'm just happy to be there to see the process.

Thank you again for asking, as you can tell I had a good time and it was lovely to get to gush abt all of this for a bit!!!

[saint-batrick]

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#5

HELP URGENTLY NEEDED.

see that forecast? our central air conditioning just broke down.

me and my roommates have six cats between the three of us, and it's going to be a couple of days before we can get it repaired.

repairs are going to cost $2000 and we've had to get hotel rooms to keep the cats (and ourselves) at a safe temperature.

PLEASE help if you can, and please share this.

paypal.me/voidbat | cashapp and venmo: voidbat

447 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#4

so, earlier today i was having a discussion with a friend about how james cameron's avatar had just zero fucking cultural impact, which is kinda nuts considering how huge of a movie it was.

then a few hours later, i learned goncharov fics surpassed the number of avatar fics on ao3.

my friend is terminally offline. so i first had to explain ao3, which they grasped fine. i then had to explain goncharov, which...well, that took a while. but they got there!

then i had the immeasurable joy of informing them that goncharov, a movie we invented whole-cloth less than a week ago has more fan works on ao3 than avatar. the glee on their face was amazing. just fucking transported.

5,047 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

20,065 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#2

sometimes i get so angry about how the housing market bubble bursting led to the economy collapsing and literally never recovering for the middle class. like...basically wiped out the middle class entirely, if we're being honest.

my bank just offered me a "high yield" savings account. high yield! just a fucking amazing APY! ...the APY is 0.4%. zero. point. four.

in 2006, i worked in a call center for $17.60 an hour and had a savings account with a 9% APY. not 0.9%, a full fucking 9%. i'd only been with the call center for a year and a half, i was 24 years old, my credit was middling at best, and that savings account was brand fucking new with a bank i'd NEVER banked with.

high yield. 0.4%.

my field is in-home healthcare now, and i get paid $9.25 an hour.

the fucking rage i feel at what was taken away from my end of my generation (eldest millennial) and fully denied to everyone younger than us is unreal sometimes.

23,139 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

do y'all even know how much i hate being an "elder queer" at 40? a whole goddamn generation before me was wiped out by a plague that politicians deemed not their problem bc it was killing the "right" people. like. this was OPENLY STATED. i spent a large chunk of my childhood going to funerals. nevermind the fact that killing queer people for being queer wasn't codified into law as a hate crime until i was a junior in high school.

i should NOT be an elder queer, i should be middle at most. i am a middle aged queer. most of the elder queers died.

when i was growing up i didn't go to pride parades, i went to pride marches. because that's 100% what they were in the 80s and 90s.

from the absolute bottom of my heart, LEARN OUR FUCKING HISTORY. a generation was nearly wiped out so you young queers could be here. don't let that have been in vain, please.

46,764 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[catastrofriend]

I posted 1,901 times in 2022

41 posts created (2%)

1,860 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@starrypawz

@ladyshivs

@dorkousloris

@aughtpunk

@amlovelies

I tagged 1,039 of my posts in 2022

Only 45% of my posts had no tags

#art - 271 posts

#fhr - 113 posts

#rdr2 - 74 posts

#critical role - 72 posts

#sidestep - 64 posts

#ortega - 52 posts

#ricardo ortega - 45 posts

#video - 45 posts

#ofmd - 43 posts

#fanfic - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#(but for real so many road works here it's like they saved it all up for when the bridge is closed off bc then no one has to pass through)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Discord flash prompts--”we’ll see each other again” kisses from here

Chargestep, vaguely sidestep days, 231 words, valentine’s fluff overload

AO3

----

"Will you be here when I'm done?"

 Ortega's doing the thing with his eyes again, the kicked puppy look. You only laugh, and he wiggles his eyebrows, thinking--oh, you don't know what he's thinking. You only know he's making it worse.

 "Will you, though?" he asks again.

 "Fuck no."

 "Hmph."

 You have exactly two seconds to enjoy your victory before he pulls you into a supply closet. Several brooms fall over, there's a bucket in the way and he's kissing you. Like his life depends on it.

 What can you do, you kiss back. Wrap your arms around his neck, and pull yourself up until he gets the hint (immediately) and lifts you up. You hook your legs around him as well and there's more stuff falling but who cares anyway?

 "You know you're not going to die out there, right? It's just the press."

 "I like to be prepared."

 You laugh. Cackle, possibly. Throw your head back and everything.

 "Oh I think we'll see each other again."

 "We better."

 You bump your nose against his, give him a last quick kiss as you let your feet drop back to the ground. You back away to the door that's all of half a foot away, and wave him off with a wink and a "just make sure they don't see you come out of the closet, or they’ll eat you alive."

28 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

#4

Based on the--I think it was screenshots from reddit about washing a loved one’s hair that were floating around a couple months to a year ago?

Chargestep, 847 words, yes it takes place in a bath but there’s no actual mention of nudity maybe they’re wearing clothes the whole time

AO3

----

It takes a while to sink in. Not physically, Ortega doesn’t seem to hesitate about climbing into the tub behind you. An arm around your waist, not trapping, but safekeeping. Other hand holding one of yours. The way you fit so snugly against his chest, his legs on either side of you. The little shifts of skin against skin with every breath.

You’re not really processing any of that. It’s happening, but it’s not you in there, it can’t be. You’re just watching it happen, a witness to be called forth in the upcoming trial. 

“Is this okay?” his voice is soft, fluid. Warm. You turn your head to the side, trying to catch the words better, and he repeats. “You okay like this?”

You almost hum in agreement, but then catch something. A hint. An underlying… thing. So you consider. What is “(like) this”? The bath? The heat of the water? The company? The way you’re sitting? Being exposed? Your personhood, your body, your lot in life? What is okay? Have you ever been truly okay or have you just been copying what okay looks like and convinced yourself it’s what you are. And he asked twice so he must want truth, but, what is the truth?

(pretend there’s a read more here just click the thingy under here to continue)

30 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

how about a “God, I love you.”

okay i did a lot in this one but i think it's pretty cute if i do say so myself

AO3 link

----

Ortega’s being stupid. Again. You’re starting to think he does it on purpose. He’s got that silly smile going on (it’s so bright he is so bright what have you done he’s so happy and because of you?), and that sparkle in his eyes (up to something, no doubt-–he’s always up to something). And now he’s catching on to your staring and he’s only going to get worse. God, what a mess you’re in.

You turn away from him, making the conscious decision to put him out of your head, just the vague buzzing of static at the back of your neck, and look around to where he brought you for the first time.

“It’s not much,” he said when you arrived, and sure. It’s just a couple big leafy trees providing some cover in the otherwise open space of grassy, not quite flat, countryside. But you can breathe here. Properly breathe, almost feel the dust and dirt from the city leave your lungs one exhale at a time. There’s nearby sounds of birdsong, further away farm life. The skies are cloudy but even they feel freer, more open.

And you, like the idiot you are, sat down on the blanket he spread out for you both, and started looking only at fucking Ortega. Stupid fucking face. There’s grass with dew still on it to look at, there’s shapes in the clouds, there’s birds in the sky, there’s the trees. And you do love the trees.

(pretend there’s a readmore here too just click the thingy under here to continue)

33 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

#2

WIP weekday

Soooooo I got tagged a couple times again the past month by @kittlesandbugs​ and @mihqorio​ and unfortunately I still haven’t really... written much of anything since maybe half a year ago at this point? (yikes) but then I realized I can also post other WIPs. So have some cross stitching!

Been working on this since September 2021 and I might actually finish it in time for Halloween this year!

Anyway, gonna tag uhhhh @sidestepping​ @starrypawz​ @impossible-rat-babies​ @gingerbreton​ and anyone else who wants to <3

39 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

"I want this finished for Halloween." - me, 13 months ago. Technically I succeeded (with a little help from mom at the end) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkYo7IRNpRx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

44 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gonzo-rella]

Imagine: Reuniting With Izzy Hands On The Revenge (And The Crew Finding Out About Your Past)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Izzy Hands x gn!reader (implied romantic; possibly platonic)

Warnings: References to (non-real) minor violence and vomiting, swearing. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: It took me way too long to get around to watching the gay pirate show (in full, at least). I watched the first four episodes ages ago, then spent ages avoiding the show for reasons I don’t really understand. I may or may not have spent a couple of months reading Izzy x reader stuff, which means that I may or may not have developed a fondness for this man prior to me fully watching the show. I had a semi-fleshed-out idea as to the reader and Iz’s backstory, but you can think of your own for this one (I’m trying to cut down on exposition in my reader-insert stuff, especially my imagines and ficlets, which I now realise is an ironic thing to say because of how long this A/N is). Feel free to ask me about said idea, though. [Insert obligatory begging for OFMD requests])

You’d (narrowly) managed to avoid him in Spanish Jackie’z. 

Only Lucius noticed that you’d seemingly returned from checking on the hostage, only back away from the bar with wide eyes. He just assumed you were avoiding the conflict between Izzy and Stede (after all, that’s what he was the most focused on).

It wasn’t until Izzy locked eyes with you for the first time that Lucius realised that something was up.

“L/N.” Izzy hesitated.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if only you had picked up on the fact that he was caught off guard. To anyone who didn’t know him like you did, one would have thought he had been expecting you.

You cleared your throat. Your heart hammered with every step he took towards you.

“Alright, Iz?”

Your voice still trembled.

Several confused stares heated up your face. Your eyes darted around to your crewmates until your gaze finally met Izzy’s once again.

“So, how’d you end up with this lot, then?” he sneered. He gestured vaguely to your crewmates.

If they weren’t so awestruck by the presence of Blackbeard and his first mate on board (and somewhat intimidated by them), you were certain they would have protested against the insult beyond muttering amongst themselves. You suspected some of them hadn’t realised they were being insulted.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” you argued. 

The confidence of your words was somewhat betrayed by the fact you looked a bit like you wanted nothing more than to lean over the side of the ship and empty the contents of your stomach into the ocean, or, at the very least, scurry below deck and quiver in one of the ship’s dark crevices.

A mocking laugh escaped him in the form of a hum and exhale. The corners of his lips almost twitched into a smirk.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d say going from Blackbeard’s crew to sailing with the fancy man who ran his own fucking ship aground’s a bit of a downgrade.”

You ignored Lucius’ incredulous whisper of, “You sailed with Blackbeard?”

The crew’s eyes were as wide as yours had been when you saw Izzy at the Republic of Pirates. It was a fair reaction, you supposed. You hadn’t protested against Black Pete’s tales of his days of sailing with Blackbeard, at least no more than the others had. For all you had revealed about your history and your past crews, the name ‘Blackbeard’ had never rolled off your tongue.

You took in a deep breath. Exhaling, you forced a smile. Your cheeks felt as if Izzy had just ran the blade of his sword along the contours of your face. He faltered in that moment, knitting his brows.

“It’s nice to see you too, Iz.”

[magniloquent-raven]

i've read a couple modern au ofmd fanfics and people tend to make izzy ed's employee in some capacity (cuz yknow, he...is lol) and i wholeheartedly support this

however may i suggest: they should also be roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

seriously tho. consider:

they moved in together when they were both much younger and poorer. and like. ed's doing just fine for himself nowadays (and so is izzy i guess) but they just...yknow....haven't gotten around to getting separate places

cuz why would they, right. izzy's sure as hell not gonna suggest it, he's not exactly receptive to change, and maybe he's a little tiny bit in love with ed but that's beside the point.

izzy worries though. worries that one day ed's gonna get bored and decide to try out living solo. he's flighty sometimes, who knows what goes on in that head of his.

nevermind that the thought has literally never occurred to ed. izzy's his friend. izzy takes care of him. izzy's the only person who remembers when he's supposed to get refills for his meds. and he makes tea and stuff. it's not good tea, but it's better than having to make it himself.

they have a comfortable little life, is the point

it's not perfect. izzy gets even more irritable that usual whenever jack decides to crash on their couch for days at a time. telling him to loosen up does not help. neither does inviting him to join their game of strip poker.

forgetting that izzy's in the next room when strip poker and too much beer turns into cum stains on the couch and passing out naked in the living room not only doesn't help but makes things much worse

thing is though, ed's lonely.

it feels stupid, he's got friends, he's got izzy, their house is never empty and he's hardly ever actually alone. but the fact that he can't tell izzy (or any of the people he spends his time with) that he's so deeply unsatisfied just...makes it worse. makes him feel that much more isolated

his life is fine. it's good. some days it even feels that way

but still

and see, they might not talk about these things, the feelings, but izzy knows there's something wrong

he's right back to feeling like he did twenty years ago, like he's counting the days until ed gets bored of him. and he's trying so damn hard to be needed, because if he can't be wanted, he can at least be necessary.

so he manages ed's appointments. and he orders all his takeout for him. and listens to him wax poetic about whatever documentary he half-watched the night before. and every time that one poncy weirdo shows up at work he tries to keep him away from edward, except...

except. well. that blows up in his face quite spectacularly