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knowlesian · 2 years

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wanted to contrast e2 and the tribe with e3 and man for sale real quick *, because i think they make a really great framework to talk about the ways this show handles dealing with race in a lot of very subtle ways.

in e2, the tribe holds the power in their immediate sphere.

if stede were to, say, go and grab the navy and bring them into the mix that power could shift again, but the reason they grabbed pete and stede at all is ultimately for the same reason that dynamic exists.

when stede and pete go full YOU SAVAGES!!! the guy guarding them can be like …bro. fuckin racist, much? and he knows he will not face a single bit of immediate backlash for it. they can like it or not like it, agree or disagree; if either one of them was the kind of person who was going to bring down the navy on them all, they’re not gonna give them a chance to do it.

i really do love the depth they pack into comedy on this show; they never center trauma, just acknowledge it exists and impacts the world and the characters in it without making it the focus or the point.

(a good concrete example: we know lucius felt the need to conceal his sexuality for a time, because this is not a world free of homophobia but rather a narrative that refuses to center it. ugh, i love subtlety, i love the unspoken, i love these writers & etc)

the reason pete and stede get locked up is because trauma exists in this world; i would argue in overall thematic terms, they get let go because this show is not about to center it. it’s not that the tribe feels like throwing white people in cages for shits and giggles, or that they’re assuming malicious intent; still, they’re gonna trust but verify. they can do that, because they’re on home turf and in a position to put stede on the spot.

in e3 it’s different.

stede is the captain of the revenge; he pays them all, and even though they’re in the republic of pirates and not stede’s original context, white supremacy exists on every rung of the class ladder. (which is too depressingly often why working class solidarity will crumble into ‘no war but class war’ bullshit in the face of open acknowledgement of racism.)

when stede starts hilariously trumpeting maaaaaan for saaaaaale, he is not coming at this from any other angle than: everyone around me is gonna know exactly what i know and intend, and they will then buy my hostage for Reasons, i have not thought that one through really.

that’s part of the source of the comedy when lucius has to clarify no, babe, he thinks you mean we’re selling a man in the sexy way.

it’s also part of the sting when he doesn’t realize: yelling that while standing next to three black men is just different, because there is every chance if they keep hanging around while he’s yelling that somebody Gets The Wrong Idea and things get really gross, really fast.

there is no way someone could reasonably think he wants to sell lucius or their hostage into the currently very active system of chattel slavery; there is every chance it might go the the other way for roach, frenchie, and oluwande.

the very best case in that scenario is stede is righteously offended on their behalf, and then he apologizes for putting them in that situation and learns never to do something like that again— which is good, but would come at the cost of public humiliation, a reminder of where the world thinks they stand in just about the most horrifying manner possible, and very real potential danger if someone decides they don’t like a no. that’s the best case.

the worst case is much darker and i just... do not feel like detailing any of it, because why dwell on what we already know did happen in the real world when situations like this occurred.

suffice to say, when frenchie and roach start going uhhhh, captain???? and making ABORT! ABORT! THIS COULD GET WEIRD! gestures and faces, they are incredibly aware that in addition to the baseline ‘so this is just... not gonna end well, huh?’ even the best version of somebody taking stede up on that offer to buy a man while they're around is almost inevitably going to suck.

which brings me to the awareness of power dynamics. back in e2, the guard could say what he wanted without fear of consequence.

here? not so much. because stede very clearly has not factored this in at all or he wouldn't be doing it like this, so it’s on them to either clearly and directly say: my MAN a lot of people are gonna think you’re a literal enslaver even if it’s the white guy tied up, because the world just sucks like that and you doing this? even if you don’t know? it also sucks. and i am gonna be cool about it because i know you don’t realize the implications here and that tempers my actions, but holy fuck this is not something that makes me fonder of you, as you are PUTTING ME AT RISK IN MANY WAYS RIGHT NOW.

or they can try to make sure stede gets the hint without having to have a potentially difficult conversation, which is what they understandably go for instead.

because there are a couple things that can happen, if they say that outright. broad categories:

1. stede says ‘oh shit, i’m sorry! i should have realized and i won’t do it again’ and that’s the end of the matter hurray

2. stede gets stuck on how he didn’t mean to do anything racist don’t be mad at him you canNOT be mad at him, i’m still a good person right though please tell me i am a good person guys & etc

3. stede says something like ‘you’re overreacting, you’re clearly not the ones i’m selling and it’ll be fine’ and refuses to accept what they’re telling him about their reality, because it's not his reality

obviously that’s not all that could happen, but you get the general lanes. all these conversations require effort to initiate and guiding, even if everything ends well. and it would be very cool if option one was the most common reaction, but as pretty much any poc who even attempts these conversations can tell you: it’s not. two and three tend to cover the bulk of the responses to trying to explain to a white friend why a thing they did was unintentionally racist itself and/or so ignorant of the realities of racism it loops around to upholding the system or creating a bad situation.

these writers really understand the complexity of these kinds of interactions. because stede yelling man for sale, in and of itself? not actually racist. unmoored from their specific canon context there's no particular racial undertone to those exact words, how stede says them, or who he says them about (as he is saying them about a white guy! and like i said above: no matter what deeply sketchy purpose someone might want to buy him for, it’s not chattel slavery).

the actual problem here is not the content of his speech so much as the context. stede is standing next to three black men while he yells man for saaaaaale, and he is clearly not taking the time to think ‘is the thing i’m saying going to hit different for them, specifically because they are black’. and one step beyond that, he's doing this in a situation where not taking that time out to consider the impact of his words on the people around him could get real ugly, real fast.

being reminded other people think you’re property to be bought and sold, not people like they are... there’s just no way to leave that interaction feeling okay. even if all that happens is somebody tries it and wanders off without giving any pushback— even if they apologize! which seems an unlikely reaction tbqh, but i’ll entertain the more positive hypothetical— that’s still some truly dehumanizing and depressing shit.

stede doesn’t mean any harm and if they weren’t standing right there it wouldn’t even be an issue, but his lack of awareness doesn’t mean it would be any less traumatizing to have that happen. so when stede doesn’t take the hint, they get the fuck out of there and leave him to it, removing themselves from the situation before it gets ugly because that is in their power to do right now. (unlike in e1, where they had to play at being The Help for nigel’s men whether they liked it or not.)

unfortunately stede isn’t their friend in e3; he’s firmly their boss and their captain. if they are honest with him there and he's offended or refuses to listen, it could be trouble for their jobs or lives on the ship; and even if stede wouldn’t take it out on them that way, it means once again needing to have a Measured Tone when all you want to do is yell KNOCK IT OFF, I AM PISSED OFF I EVEN HAVE TO SAY THIS and potentially getting back: nope. this is about me, now, and i’m not going to listen. either because you made me feel bad about myself, or because i just flat-out refuse to believe that you are a good judge of your own life experience.

one of the things i enjoy in ofmd is they don’t play into the binary of centering trauma or not having any at all; the obvious difference in context between yelling that about a white guy but near black men is blatant, even if for some viewers it might not instinctive. ‘would someone make the mistake’? who knows. but could someone? yeah. fucking very MUCH yeah. i think we would all agree that there are people in the world alive even now who are the kind of blatantly racist where they hear ‘man for sale’ and it wouldn’t matter at all a white guy was the only one being led around on a rope; we all know which members of the crew they’d assume were also on offer.

once you do that math, frenchie and roach’s particular need to gtfo takes on a new dimension. for some of us, that math was instinctive; for some of us, it wasn’t. but once pointed out it’s happening and significant, it’s not a complicated equation to solve.

i think a lot about the use of trauma and pain in media, how we use it and who it’s for; to have somebody actually offer to buy one of the crew would absolutely make those potential stakes clear to a white audience, but a poc audience (and in this specific case, a black one) doesn’t need that all to play out onscreen to know why it could.

the subtlety they bring to this really gets me, more and more the more i chew on it. because if you’re in that second category, even the shadow of what could happen in the real world is enough to bring up a lot of heavy history sight unseen. if you’re in the first, it’s an answer so obvious once the question is posed that nobody has to expend effort to explain it, and the consequences so gross we can all agree they would be bad and best to avoid.

you don’t find all that much acknowledgement in mass media of these subtler ways racism works in the world. stede didn’t even say or do anything explicitly racist or implicitly racist here; all the same, his lack of awareness and consideration could have led to something pretty racist happening anyway, and five seconds of thought would have been enough to know why it was probably a bad idea.

and we’re not supposed to hate stede for not knowing why that could have been a real problem, just know not asking himself those sorts of questions (and not being aware of the potential consequences of not doing so) is something he needs to change.

this show is just... it’s real good. i like it a lot.

* narrator: keeping it quick was, of course, a doomed hope from the start

#lol. quick. me. hah.#okay now i will go eat dinner i always do this i get caught up and it's an hour later than i thought it was #anyway: this show is real cool #i like the way they handle heavy shit #i see utility and value in narratives that center trauma #we have so few like this that acknowledge but never center it #more of all of it is the actual answer #but the volume can go up with a ratio change imo #i like no trauma media too! this middle lane is just very intriguing #my ofmd meta

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fivefeetfangirl · 6 months

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something is happening on the dash but everyone is vagueing. imma just head out and go write my fanfiction 😀👍

#saw some spoiler for ofmd so i kinda do actually know what it is #but idk i think its a bit annoying when people are like 'why am i seeing everyone do x' like bestie i havent seen shit why are we #complaining about something so few does?? anyways. everyone follows different people etc etc #i just hate the 'why is everyone...' phrasing #and yes i still havent watched ofmd. got caught up in fic writing teehee

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bowieandqueen11 · 7 months

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Love For You / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I just found your ao3 account a few days ago and your writing style is excellent! Legitimately some of the most visual and evocative writing I've seen on that website, and I've been devouring your izzy hands fics since I caught up on season two! Can I request another izzy x reader post-amputation and just the reader caring for him while he's pining hard? Maybe the reader has some medical experience so they've been able to help him a little better than the rest of the crew, making sure he's taking time to heal in a difficult moment (physically as well as emotionally, god knows he needs that.) Letting him know he's loved and him realizing he hasn't...heard someone say that to him or treat him this gently in a long time

Thank you so much that's so kind of you to say, it's so lovely people finding me from AO3!! Honestly one of the best feelings, and goodness knows Izzy needs this :)

Okay so I haven't been able to watch the new season so all my knowledge is coming from Tumblr gifs and posts, so I really hope this isn't too ooc my lovely!! Anyway let's get this man some comfort!

I spent all day writing this, so all comments are much appreciated! Thank you! :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury, mentions of physical abuse, mention of smoking, kissing and some strong language!

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

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Something monstrous seemed to be creeping up the shuddering walls.

No, it wasn't the stifling silence that had seemed to envelop those of Blackbeard's crew still left, hiding their heads between their legs and closing their eyes as they felt the quicksand drain out through the fingers. Nor was it the creaking organ snore of Wee John thrumming up the timber; the rest of your usually upbeat crew grew despondent as they wracked their brains together and came up with a way to save you all from imminent demise, having flopped onto their sides and fallen into fitful sleeps just before sunset. Sadly it wasn't even the feel of Lucius' finger stroking yours through the cold grates of your jail, his smile lost and forlorn as he thumped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well, feeling even more entrapped in himself than you did.

It was, in fact, the hard glare Izzy Hands was shooting into the side of your face. He hadn't spoken a word since Stede had left, choosing instead to let out the odd sniffle from his corner bucket and busy himself by watching you like a man possessed: like something wild, something smothering itself in the shadows to stop its howling heart from devouring the light around itself. From tearing his dagger out of his scabbard and devouring his heart himself with clawed hooks. He looked ghastly, and he looked gargantuan as the life seemed to convulse within him, leeching out and darting its tongue around the creaking wood until it filled up the room and began to fill your heart up with a hope you thought had been lost weeks ago.

He looked beautiful and proud and defeated and assured in spite of it all, and you were finally beginning to understand why Zheng Yi Sao had locked him away in this cage.

And in a way, it terrified you that this cataclysmic, lucent shadow was creeping its merry way straight for you.

The tenebrosity was quickly broken by Izzy's shining eyes gliding across the bridge of your nose to land instead on your top lip. He wasn't entirely sure why exactly he was feeling so timid. It wasn't as if Frenchie was still awake, as he was too busy hugging his free arm around the remaining muscle of Izzy's thigh and burying his head into the muscle with a soft murmur of contentment. Yet the idea of being caught leering at you like a dopey boy was enough to make him judder with embarrassment, and enough to send Frenchie's head keeling sideways so his lips were rammed up against his trousers.

Thankfully, it was exactly Frenchie's floppy head that gave away the fact that he was fast asleep, and allowed you to steal Izzy away for yourself. With a gentle lift, you were quick to replace your friend's cheek with your own hand, giving the side of Izzy's thigh a reassuring squeeze.

'You look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders', you sighed as you took in Izzy's harrowing form. It wasn't his paleness that worried you, or the redness that cracked and splintered around his irises. It was the way he was watching you, eyes trained steadily on your face for the last hour and a half, as if he were doing his best to memorise everything he could before he ran out of time. As if he would never have the chance to look at you again.

The edges of his lips curled up, and he thumped his head back against the wall. 'Me? I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Never been better. Why do you ask?'

'Well', you began as softly as you could, straining to reach the vials in your hip knapsack to retrieve some salve for the scarring that had begun to pucker around his skin. 'We are about to be executed. I guess I just wanted you to know this is a safe space to let it all out before we are. A confessional of sorts, if a little makeshift.'

He wet his bottom lip as his eyes darted down to you, confused.

You pointedly looked him in the eyes, before unscrewing the vial and dipping your pointer finger in. Making sure he didn't seem too uncomfortable, you leant forwards as innocuously as you could, trying not to startle him anymore than he already had been. With a swipe, you began to rub the herb mixture around the sore looking welts left around his cut leg, making a point to run your fingertips soothingly over the goose-bumps that began to rise at the feel of you against him.

'I wanted you to know- to know that you're always safe around your crew.' You did your best not to let your voice tremble, no matter how much your throat tried to choke you. You turned your head back down to his leg, trying to hide the fact that your mouth was crumpling in on itself.

He winced as your hand brushed against a tender point, and you ran the back of your knuckles over his skin in apology. He felt like he was burning alive: a fire blazing so furiously in the pit of his stomach he was sure it was gushing out, swinging around the room and warning everyone of his impending falter as he fell upon the crags of your fingers below. He had no idea how, in all the seas, you couldn't possibly see how ecstatically devastated he was to be sitting here with you.

He didn't mind dying. He wasn't scared of it. As long as you were there to enhalo his misty light in the end. As long as you were there to love him until his last breath. As long as, no matter what form he took, you were still enclosed around his heart.

'Who says I have anything to confess?', he glanced at you with heavy eyelashes, eyes bleary but sharp as he started straight into your soul. I don't have to confess it, he thought, it's so fucking painfully obvious.

How could he confess something so inexplicable? Something that wrapped around all of his bones, that wormed its way into parts of himself he thought long numb: long lost. How could someone ever articulate the feeling of life itself? It was insurmountable, far too transcendent, too impetuous for mortals to to unsnarl into words.

'Oh Izzy', you said, mouth falling into a frown at the way his hips reflexively bucked up at the feel of a new cream being slathered around his leg to try and numb the pain. He moaned, trying to mask the sound by clenching his fist into his mouth and biting desperately into his knuckles. One more touch, and he was about to fall apart. 'Your eyes are drowning in so many regrets I can barely see the stars in them anymore.'

He huffed out a laugh, looking at you with incredulous, wild eyes. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he let it rest, still clenched, by his quivering chin. 'Not in my eyes. You never could. That's not possible. Not me.'

'I could.' You were quick to reply. 'I always could. You're our guiding light, Israel Hands.'

Oh boy, if he wasn't devastated before he sure was now. His face fell immediately, and for a moment you felt your heart ache with a sore regret at the silvery tears that began to cloud in the crinkles of his eyes. But then he does something that surprised even you.

The way he opened his legs up was almost miniscule: too small for anyone who didn't know this man's quirks and intricacies and giveaways to notice, but a well aimed shot that sent a rush of heat prickling up your cheeks. Before he changed his mind and retreated into himself again, you were quick to scoot your backside over and come to rest far too intimately between the tightening leather of his inner thighs.

'You can't be surprised that we care about you', he started after a moment of comfortable silence, leaning the side of your head to rest gingerly on his intact leg. 'That the whole crew has always cared about you. Look, someone even got you a mop-', you gestured to his side, trying to make him laugh before the sun rises, and thankfully you succeeded.

He shook his head out as if trying to refocus himself as his chuckle died out in his chest. He didn't want to laugh right now. He wanted to focus on the weight on his leg: on the feel of your nose brushing on the length of seam running up to his groin. He blinked back heavy tears that spread along his lashes, sniffling coarsely. He probably should laugh, he thought. He should be fucking howling, spitting, going rabid at the irony that the one thing he had been yearning his whole life was lying right there on his lap, and he only had a few hours left in his pathetic life to savour it.

'How are you doing, by the way? Seriously', you jolt your head up to watch him quizzically. He did his best not to meet your eye, choosing instead to stare at the black grains above Jim's slumped head. 'After, you know, everything that happened with Ed-'

'You don't need to worry about me', he sniffed, but his hand twitched as he lifted it up to rest on his thigh, just above the top of your head. 'It's my job to worry about all of you. Not the other way round.'

'When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we want to worry about you. This isn't some kind of weird mandate or self-preservation tactic on our part Izzy. You may be a fucking idiot, but you're our fucking idiot. Let us take care of you too, like you've been looking out for us.'

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head beginning to shake furiously enough to send his stray silver locks clambering over his eyes. He was glad for their cover, so he wouldn't have to see the way you had lurched forward: the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, as you rose onto your knees and pressed your hands firmly around his waist, just where the joint of his legs met the soft squish of his tummy.

'Don't you shake your head at me. We all know you've been trying to direct Blackbeard's anger your way. We do!' You cocked your head, trying to follow his face as he squirmed in your grasp. Losing your patience, you gripped his jaw with your thumb and pointer finger, directing Izzy's widening eyes back your way. 'We do, Izzy. We know what you've been doing for us. What you've been sacrificing. And I'm sorry - I'm sorry that none of this is fair. I'm sorry that any of this happened at all.'

One. Two. You tapped your finger a third time, your fingernail swirling over the fine nuances of the holster running over his sawed leg.

It had always been your little secret: a shared confidence, between you and Izzy. One tap. Two. Three on each other's arms after battles, three taps there on your shoulder before you went down to your bunk, three fleeting touches burning at the back of his spine to let him know that you were alright: to let him know that he was alright.

You only stopped when you heard a brisk inhale: a sharp whistle that broke through your indulgent repose and made Roach roll over. Thankfully, a moment later, the cook's arm was splayed out across the floor again, and his leg kicked out backwards with a swift jolt up poor Button's behind. Izzy, though. Izzy, despite the surprising tenderness of the moment, was almost smouldering. The muscle by the side of his femur began to writhe underneath just the point of your fingertip, the feeling of just your warmth making him feel too feeble. Too needy to even control the rest of his body; he desperately tried to reach out a hand to shove your shoulder back and push you away, but his mind was too busy swimming with the concentration of trying to remember how to inhale.

The sharp breaths he dragged in painfully were starting to worry you, as were the wracks of his spine as he seemed to writhe backwards and forwards, back arching off the wall before collapsing back down on itself painfully again.

He felt your hand clench around his back, guiding him to sit still again. You were close, far too close - your noses almost touching, as you took a risk and used your free hand to slowly.... god, so fucking slowly he felt like he was going to split in half. He looked like a wounded animal: something terrified of being hurt as his eyes stayed trained on your approaching fingers, face wary until your fingertips touched his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

And then he felt that warmth. That warmth against the shell of his ear. He bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood, and for once, he was glad for the taste. It was comforting. Familiar. Deserved. He wasn't one for the fucking heartache of tenderness. And god, how his heart ached.

'Come on,' you nestled yourself between his legs again and perched your elbow up on his left leg. 'People must have cared about you before. Might as well get it all out in the open. Be honest with each other now.'

He paused, before the stubbornness wormed its way in again. 'No, they haven't-'

'Well, what about your parents? Your parents must have been kind. Besides, the crew obviously cares about you. I obviously care about you. Stop being so pig-headed.''

He startled you with a laugh: he seemed to choke on it, his teeth baring as he barked it out, yet he still couldn't seem to look at you quite yet. That's alright. You had an eternity left in these few hours.

Kindness?

He couldn't remember a time before joining Stede's crew that he had ever felt such a thing, let alone let it fester in the crevices of his ribcage until he felt the dreaded thing was going to claw its way out. Perhaps, if he let himself fester in the silence for a moment, an image of his mother would squirm its way out of his long repressed memories. Clawing and scratching and digging her pointed nails to dig her way out. No, his mother had never offered him a jot of comfort. She could stay buried in that coffin he had stuffed her down into, instead of rotting inside of him. He had enough barnacles to scrape off his body as it was.

It wasn't as if he had any surprisingly sweet memories of his life before. His mother had never been one for grace: her words always bit at his brain like a frenzied tempest, his actions never good enough. Once, when he was six years old, he had tottered up before the sun rose and followed his older brother down to the docks, trying to please his mother. Even so young, he had spent most of his years yearning to be seen as anything but the 'nuisance' or 'pest' his mother used to spit at his feet, and yearned to return with a line full of fish to please her. To help her with the chores that she always yammered his father had left her to rot with. Had left him. That he rotted away her youth. When he came slinking into the doorway, a nervous smile twitching at his ruddy cheeks, his mother had taken one look at the muddy, damp fringes of his trousers and had slapped him clean across the face for his troubles.

Another part of him remembered her warmth. The same that radiated off your palm as you spread your fingers across his knee; the way she would sometimes scutter into his bed at night, and he could smell the harsh sting of alcohol on her breath as she curled up and hugged him close against her chest. Of the way she would sometimes let him sit on her knee once the three of them had returned home after service, and she would brush back his growing hair and he would curl himself up to chase the stray ray of sunlight that glowed against her neck.

It had left him a Gordian mess of a man. Simultaneously spending his life seeking any kind of validation, any kind of affection, while his stubborn self-preservation did its best to push everyone away.And yet here you came, watching him with those sweet, sad eyes. Swinging the sword to undo him.

'I don't remember much about them', he replied curtly, but not unkindly. 'My father left us when I was young. I was... mainly left to my own devices.'

You nod slowly, letting his words thinking in. Letting the misery drenching every seething heave of his tongue wash over your head. 'Well', you began to rub your thumb in circles against his trousers, 'at least you have us here now. One good thing to add to the pile.'

There we go. The knot's slowly being undone.

You tried to smile, but the intensity of his gaze falling on you again unsettled you.

'You're right.' His voice was far too earnest for his own good. 'I have had one good thing in my life. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

You nearly jolted when you felt his hand smack down on top of yours. He had closed his eyes to try and hide himself from his discomfort, but his gloved fingers still slid between yours and squeezed despite himself. Once he was assured they were firmly intertwined: his own grasping tight enough to bust the leather at the stitching, he dared himself to finish his train of thought before he lost his nerve.

'I do... I do care about the crew. None of this was their fault, and they shouldn't have been fucking blamed for it. But I- I, I care about someone else far more than all of this twatty lot put together.'

It's a whisper into the darkness. A despairing yell of defiance against the solitude. A smothered light, long lingering and far longer forgotten. A spark of hope against the threat of ruination. It was a silver tear, glinting like starlight against his iris and falling with a content plop onto the back of your hand.

'I-I-', he stuttered out, clenching his teeth as he wills himself not to cry. 'I-'

The words refused to unlatch from his throat. Luckily, you were adept enough to notice the longing that drew a sad ache across his face.

'Izzy, I-'

'Let me finish', he stumbled out, his whole face now contorting as he struggled with the weight of it all. His bottom lip began to wobble against his will, face falling in on itself.

'I have-I have... love. For you. 'What I'm trying to say is'-, he shakes his head, chiding himself.

'Izzy, I know, it's alright. I know. I understand.' You grabbed tighter onto the back of your hand, enveloping it with your free one until his stopped shaking, begging him to realise you could see him.

'No-. No. If I don't say it now, I'm worried I never will.'

'Take your time, take your time. We have all the time in the world'. A sob finally gasped out from Izzy, chest heaving as he felt you draw his hands up towards your mouth. Still safe. Still warm. Still firmly cupped between your own, but the feel of your lips brushing against his knuckles was enough to send him reeling. The gentle peck that followed, though, was enough to finally let him break free.

A tentative finger reached out, checking for any signs of repulsion before landing awkwardly to point into the blade of your shoulder. He seemed to freeze: immobile marble frozen in fear as he seemed unaware as to what to next. After a few wary blinks, he clumsily spent a few seconds trying to manoeuvre the rest of his arm to cross across your back, before tugging your torso to lean closer towards him.

For a moment, it finally seems as if the world has skittered upright on his axis again. It felt normal. It felt right, feeling him grow comfortable with affection again as he melted, for the second time that week, into your hug. For his sake, as he burrowed his head into the pulse point of your neck until his stubble began to tickle your collar bone, you pretended not to hear the maimed whimpers that struggled past his closed lips.

The only time he moved was to raise his head up towards your nose, bumping it playfully against the tip of your own. Then another graze. A rub, and then another one, his eyes the whole time languidly drawn down to stare at your cupid's bow, until he slowly brought himself down to breathe unsteadily against your mouth. After a final moment of contemplation, he blinked placidly before closing his eyes and tilting his head to close the miniscule distance between the two of you.

His jaw was tense as you ran your finger down it, so busy trying to commit to his memory the pressure of your lips against his bottom one that he was forgetting to breath. But he didn't pull away. In fact, his hand clamped around your neck, digging almost painfully into your back as he stumblingly latched onto you, forcing himself further against your opening mouth. His hand found solace by cupping the back of your skull, chest squeezed against your breasts as he opened his lips and almost devoured you whole.

A loud 'awww!' erupted from your side, making the two of you jolt apart. The only problem was, Izzy's bottom lip had been rather firmly attached to yours. This meant that as you drew back, Izzy, in his stubborn unwillingness to let you go, let his bottom lip drag down along your inner mouth until a line of saliva connected your bottom lips, which only made the person the other side of the brig giggle even louder.

'You guys are cute', Black Pete yawned with a wakening stretch.

'Yes!', Roach chimed in as he teddy bear rolled his lanky legs round in front of him. 'I swear!', he continues, ostentatiously wiping his finger underneath his eye, 'I must be crying! I'm two seconds away from going up there and commencing our escape myself.'

With a tilt of your head that hit Izzy's chin, you looked at the cook incredulously. Izzy only gazed down at you past the crook of his nose, wonderstruck as the he let the words wash over his head.

'You. You really think you can take on all those very competent pirates up there.'

'Of course!'

'You cried for twenty minutes earlier about soup!'

Roach waved his hand unconvincingly in front of his face. 'Broth, it was broth! But I'm great with knives, remember! I have one hidden in my underwear right now!'

'Why... why is it in your underwear?', Oluwande piped in as he rested his head on the side of a barrel.

'Yeah, you weren't captured', Archie added, shuffling her own head off Jim's shoulder to look out past the bars. 'Why isn't it, I don't know, in your pocket or something.'

Even though Roach has opened his mouth to answer, his train of thought is broken by the tired grumble of another one of your friends. 'I hate to admit it, but that was actually very sweet', Lucius chimed in, twisting his lips into a shit-eating grin as he eyed the both of you up, another cigarette now firmly tucked in and freshly lit between his fingers as he took a drag.

'Is everyone on this fucking boat awake?!', Izzy cried, wrapping a hand protectively around your shoulder joint.

You snorted, burying your head protectively against the soft skin of his bellybutton. The sound of the crew beginning to argue with an increasingly impatient Izzy was like music to your ears; the monster was beginning to retreat.

No longer did it hang and shake and pierce the walls with its talons until it bled umbras. It retreated: chased away by the comely love of your crew. Of your family. Of the man who held you protectively against him, blinding you with his tender love.

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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02/24/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&CrewSightings; Samba BTS; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Damien Gerard; Guz Khan!; SaveOFMD Crew Billboard; AdoptOurCrew Saturday Sillies; Making A Difference; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Been a long Saturday yall. Hope you enjoyed the BTS and general clown/honking going around!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Samba Schutte Feat. David Jenkins! =

Samba's back with more BTS for us today!

This time the Crew Shoutout is for Chaos Dad himself: David Jenkins! So good to see Chaos dad having such a great time BTS. We love you David!

Videos on Tumblr:

Video 1

Video 2

Video 3

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys decided to take it up a notch today on his Tiktok/Instagram and tell... someone they've created a monster. Who might that be?

== Damien Gerard ==

Our crew-mate @patchworkpiratebear got a Cameo from our lovely Father-Teach, Damien Gerard! There's a bit of a story behind it, see below! Cameo link

== Guz Khan! ==

Hey! It's been a hot minute since we've seen our friend Guz Khan-- and now he's showed up on a cat! Good to see you sir!

== Save OFMD Crew ==

There have been questions raised about the billboard that the SaveOFMD Crew have been posting teasers for on their socials. The Crew had a meeting today wherein they discussed the concerns of the fandom, and have taken that feedback to heart. They are currently working on a clear information packet regarding the logistics of the current billboard efforts. They have kindly asked for your patience while they finish putting those last touches together!

== @adoptourcrew Saturday Sillies! ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew were kind enough to set up a new Saturday Sillies this week! This time they made custom OFMD Wordles! There were WAY too many images to include in the recap, so if you'd like to check them out, please visit the tumblr post below!

Wanna play? You can visit a tumblr post here

== Making a Difference! ==

Thank you to everyone who contributed to, or shared the fundraiser for Trans Pride Brighton! They've finally met their goal and can stay open another year! You made a serious difference in the lives of trans and non-binary folk in that community!

== Articles ==

Deze HBO-serie is gecanceld, maar had een 95% op Rotten Tomatoes

Schwule Romanze zwischen Piratenkapitänen

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you had a fun Saturday/Sunday wherever you are. I know some of you are already closing out the weekend. We made it through another day-- and there's all sorts of action going on across all the platforms. I hope you got a chance to have fun, but also to rest. I know you know this, but even though I do too I often forget it. Rest is so very important. It's so easy to burn out, especially when we're constantly exposed to so much online. I think to myself "oh it's fine I'll just get a few more things done" and then it's suddenly 3 hours later and I've had only 4 hrs sleep in the last 30. Please please please give yourself self care today. Go brush your teeth, or take a shower. If you feel like you can do more, brush your hair, or make yourself a nice cup of tea. Do something for you that makes you relax and feel rested. On your last day of the weekend, make sure to take a few moments to yourself and just remember how awesome you are. You may not feel like it sometimes, but I can tell you now you truly are Awe-some. You bring so much life and love to this world and you deserve all beautiful things you want. Anyway, I'm very sleepy and I'm rambling again (what's new). Sleep well and enjoy your day lovelies, see you tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I'm being lazy tonight again yall. Just two goofy gifs that caught my eye, sorry I am running on fumes. Tomorrow I'll try to find some themed ones for ya <3

Rhys Gif: Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif: ohnotheydidnt.livejournal

#daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #daily ofmd recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #samba schutte #david jenkins #chaos dad #daddy jenkins #guz khan #damien gerard #save ofmd #save our flag means death #adopt our crew #save ofmd crew

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christinecalella · 6 months

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A book recommendation for OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH fans!

Hey y'all! I know we're sad to be bidding goodbye to Stede and Ed (all my fingers are crossed for a Season 3 announcement) so I wanted to let the rest of the fandom know about my debut YA novel, a pirate adventure very much in the spirit of OFMD called THE FINAL CURSE OF OPHELIA CRAY (coming from Page Street YA on April 9, 2024).

THE FINAL CURSE OF OPHELIA CRAY is the story of two half-sisters, Ophelia and Betsy. Ophelia is the daughter of an infamous pirate queen, but she was raised alongside Betsy by their father. The local townspeople absolutely haaaaate her ass because they think she's cursed. Meanwhile, Betsy is a homebody and incredibly talented seamstress struggling with anxiety. Ophelia decides she'll be best-served by going to sea and making a new life for herself in the navy, but wouldn't you know it, the navy won't accept the daughter of a pirate.

Naturally, Ophelia does what anyone would do: she steals her sister's identity to join the navy anyway. As one does.

When a family crisis reveals to the navy that Ophelia's committed fraud, Betsy needs to conquer her many, many fears and take to the sea in order to warn Ophelia before she gets caught and hanged for her crimes.

On the way, the sisters make friends & enemies, battle in pistol duels & set ships ablaze, struggle through hurricanes and pirate attacks, travel to distant shores and magical islands, discover long-lost relatives and fall in love.

It's a story about sisterhood, legacy, and self-acceptance. Plus, it's chock full of queer characters and body-positive representation, just like OFMD! Ophelia is canonically aroace and Betsy is a plus-sized woman who finds true love at sea.

If any of this sounds up your alley, consider pre-ordering the book at any of the links below the Read More! Nothing helps first-time authors more so I'd really appreciate it. Til next time, crew-mates!

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-final-curse-of-ophelia-cray-christine-calella/1143329910?ean=9781645678724

#our flag means death #our flag means gay #our flag means love #ofmd #ofmd s2 #taika waititi #rhys darby #potc #pirates of the caribbean #books #ya books #ya fantasy

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f0ul-f13nd · 7 months

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People I Wanna Know Better

Thanks for the tag @ineffablemossy - I hope I'm doing this right. 😬😂❤️

LAST SONG? Sunlight - Hozier

FAVORITE COLOR? Red 100% RedRedRed (although I wear mostly black) (partly for the aesthetic and partly because I'm constantly spilling food on myself and black doesn't stain) (I'm cool though obvs) (oBvSSss)

CURRENTLY WATCHING? OFMD in anticipation of the new season Oct 5. And Good Omens like the plague.

LAST MOVIE? At home? I can't believe I'm admitting this: Twilight - New Moon. My partner and I are rewatching semi-ironically. And in the theatre: Spiderman Across The Spiderverse. Thrice.

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? Def not sweet. Prob equal parts savoury and spicy. A slut for goat cheese and horseradish (not necessarily together).

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? Married and monogamous 22 years, but bi. Yes we exist!

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? Good Omens!!!!! Minor side notes: Something Wicked This Way Comes. Organic chemistry. LGBTQI+. The intersection between science and faith / apologetics.

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? "International Church of Christ Cult" - yeah I got caught up in it briefly 20 years ago, and somehow a family member was recently roped in, so I'm in Mama Bear Mode™ right now helping them find their way out.

No pressure tags: @ineffablecollision, @ineffablefood @rathgr1th, @ineffabledandelion @ashfae @embracing-the-ineffable @voluptatiscausa @unicornbeck (come on, we know it's beneath us, JUST DO IT ANYWAY)

#stupid shit #too personal

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chaos-monkeyy · 6 months

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❦ ➷ get to know your fellow fanfic writers better ༊ ✧.*

Tagged by @dewdropreader and @mirilyawrites , thank you!!

1. when did you post your first ever fanfic?

February 2019!

2. first character you wrote for:

Ben Jones my beloved (from Midsomer Murders)

3. main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

I don't know if I'm even allowed to answer this one 😂 Probably my own characters for original works, aside from that I really am just all over the map.. I'll say the ones I'm most likely to come back to regularly these days are Captain Pike, Mobius, and Dalinar Kholin (along with, y'know, people for them to get it on with).

4. character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

Pike's sex toys 😏

But uhhh actual people I haven't already written? 🤔 I am still toying with the idea of writing a little Jordi x Erin scene for Who Is Erin Carter? but it's anyone's best guess whether I'll actually get around to it 🙈

5. fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

The main culprits lately have been Stormlight Archive, Star Trek Strange New Worlds, the Loki series, Stargate, and original fiction! Honorable mention to OFMD and Good Omens who've popped in there a couple times as well and may or may not continue to make occasional appearances 💖

6. platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

.....let's say Ortegas & Pike since I did technically write them recently 😆 and also I love them.

7. romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

All the things

Though let's be real, it's just straight up sexual pairings as opposed to romantic most of the time 🍾 But yeah, there's just.. so many to have fun with ✨

8. your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

PWP, Omorashi... and in third place is a three way tie between Masturbation, Watersports, and Blowjobs 😂

9. your current platform where you post your works

Fanfic:

Original work:

With occasional cross-posting between the two 😊

10. snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

..alright well here's hoping I do wind up actually finishing the big-dick-Mobius fic I started ages ago to go with @natendo-art 's hot fucking artwork 🙈

“May I?” Loki was asking— and he was trailing one hand downwards, fingers teasing along the line of Mobius’s belt.

Mobius’s breath caught in an embarrassing little whimper, but he nodded anyway, a little distracted from wondering… Should he tell Loki he didn’t have any idea what he was doing, not really? Should he keep quiet and hope maybe Loki wouldn’t notice how woefully inexperienced he was beyond his own hands? Or—

Mobius’s nervous train of thought was interrupted by Loki’s fingers finding his stiffened cock through his suit pants with a little squeeze—

…And then Loki stopped, pulled back, and stared at Mobius with wide eyes and a slightly shocked look.

“Wh… what is it?” Mobius asked, face flaming, instantly certain he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” Loki breathed, and to Mobius’s tentative relief, that slightly slack-jawed expression twisted up into a grin of delight instead. “My dear Mobius, you should definitely not be sorry about this.”

Tagging @trainofcommand , @d--dandelions , @cosmereplay , @might-be-a-lynx , @confuzing , @knight-of-skyloft , @cordeliaperry , @frankthesnek , @cuillere , and anyone else I missed who wants to do it - consider yourself tagged too! 💙

#tag games #multifandom #smut

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somethings-coming-up · 6 months

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Sick Izzy Hands fic - OFMD

Note: I wrote this during a 13 hour graveyard shift, so it's definitely choppy. I also haven't written anything like this for ages. Or anything, really. Anyway, definitely could have used more work and it's too long, but it is what it is. Lots of language too because Izzy. Vomit warning because I don't write anything without it. Cheers.

The crew was in good spirits. It was one of those pleasant summer days where the sun beamed down, but a light breeze brought enough cool air that it wasn't excessively warm, contrary to how it's felt all week. The smell of the salty sea was fresh, and seagulls flew above, cawing contently as though they too were enjoying a break from the heat. The crew was taking a break from work, a handful playing cards on deck, a few others lounging, but regardless they all seemed at ease, enjoying the easy day. It was an energy that made Stede beam with pride, as though he was the one to personally lift the mood of the ship. He knew the weather was a factor, but he was also the one who recommended the crew take it easy for the day and just enjoy each other's company, which deserved at least half the credit, he thought. It was so seldom to see the entire crew in a good mood.

Well, almost the entire crew, but Stede opted to believe Izzy didn't count because he was never in a good mood, and he felt it unfair to allow that to affect his stats. Somehow, a more relaxed, cool day worsened the first mate's mood. Stede brushed it off, assuming that the man was so miserable all the time, seeing others not be miserable made him more miserable. For the better part of the morning, Izzy had griped about not enough work getting done, to which Stede had countered with the rather fair argument that no matter was so detrimental that it couldn't wait until morning. He tried to convince the older man to relax himself, and only received a grumble in response.

Now, Stede was watching him from across, the deck, narrowing his eyes in concentration as Izzy leaned against the railing, busying himself with sharpening his knives. Lucius had just had the audacity to approach him and ask if he wanted to join them for a round of poker, and quickly turned away when Izzy spat out a "oh, fuck off" without glancing up from his knife. That was a very infamous Izzy line, but Stede felt it to be a little harsh at the simple invitation, even for him. Izzy wasn't known for being social on the ship, but even he would occasionally play cards, mostly because he was better at it and taking coin from the rest of the crew seemed to bring him a little joy. Even when he didn't want to, he usually responded with a nonchalant "pass" or "I'm busy." 'Fuck off' was uncalled for, and Stede felt the need to stick up for Lucius. As much as he didn't want to be on the receiving end of Izzy's foul mood, Stede headed for his direction. It wasn't until he got closer, and saw the scowl on the man's face appeared to be more of a grimace, and he was squinting, even though a cloud was currently protecting them from the majority of the sun's light. But what really caught Stede's attention was that Izzy looked as though the side of the ship was the only thing keeping the man upright.

Nope. He wasn't up for this. This was a matter only one person could handle, and it wasn't Stede. Izzy being unwell seemed so unfathomable, so far-fetched, and yet it was clearly happening, and Stede winced at the mere thought of what kind of response he would get if he tried to bring it up to the ornery man. The concentration Izzy had on his knives at the moment was also a deterrent. It would be far too easy for him to lodge one in his captain's throat when they were already in hand. And freshly sharpened too. Stede instead turned around and headed for the direction of his co-captain-turned-partner because Izzy was his and therefore this was his problem.

Ed was in their chambers, a glass of bourbon in hand, lounging on their sofa. He had taken the opportunity to do 'fuck all' that day, which apparently literally meant absolutely nothing. Stede couldn't blame him though, because he did genuinely work hard day after day and he was happy to see his partner relax and rest. He almost felt bad about bothering him with the current situation, but something had to be done before Izzy actually hurt someone. Or himself.

"Ed, darling," Stede greeted, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa, his thigh pressing against Ed's side.

Ed lowered his sunglasses and flashed Stede a charming smile. "Yes, my love? Don't tell me you're already ready for round three."

Stede couldn't help but blush, but as wonderful as that sounded, there were more pressing matters. "I actually need to talk to you. Well, um… something is wrong with Izzy."

Ed laughed. It was a real laugh, as though Stede had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard. "And this is news to you? Don't tell me you're just now realizing that Izzy has issues."

Stede scoffed. "Darling, of course I know that. But I'm not talking about murderous intent. I mean something is wrong with him."

At this, the humorous expression faded from Ed's face, and was replaced with genuine concern. "Where is he?" he asked, sitting up quickly.

"On the deck. Plotting his first victim. Looking like he's about to topple over."

Ed stood and brushed past Stede without another word. Stede didn't feel offended, he knew the two men had an important relationship, one that he wasn’t jealous of because it didn't make Ed love him any less. He followed his partner out of their chambers, past the crew to the other side of the deck. He could feel most of them pause what they were doing to spectate, possibly having picked up on Izzy's being worse than a bitchier-than-usual attitude. The first mate didn't stop what he was doing when the two captains approached him, but Stede knew it wasn't due to him not noticing them.

"Iz?" Ed broke the silence cautiously, like he was approaching a wild animal. He may as well be, Stede thought. They were met with silence, save the sound of metal scraping against metal. Ed tried again, a little more firm, but still gentle underneath the surface. "Iz, look at me, mate."

The scraping stopped. Izzy lifted his head and made eye contact with Ed, and this close Stede could really see it. He looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot, dark bags underneath them like he hadn't been sleeping at all. There was a light flush to his cheeks, and even though it was Izzy, Stede had to fold his hands in front of him to stop him from reaching out to check for a fever. A few dark strands stuck to the older man's forehead, standing out against pale skin. Despite looking like he could keel over any second, Izzy glared, snarling at both men. "What do you want?" he demanded. His voice sounded exhausted, his rasp thicker than usual.

"You're not looking so good, mate," Ed said, placing a hand on his first mate's shoulder.

Izzy shrugged the hand off quickly, hissing through clenched teeth. "I'm fine, fuck off."

But Ed seemed to know what he was doing. Stede couldn't help but feel he had gone through this with Izzy before. "No, man, you're not. I've known you long enough to know you're not." Somehow, Ed felt confident enough to put the back of his hand against Izzy's forehead, which Stede wouldn't do when the man had a knife in his hand. Izzy still brushed him off quickly though, looking more pissed off.

"I said, fuck off, Edward." His tone was threatening enough that if Stede were in Ed's shoes, he'd be counting his losses and leaving him be.

But Ed wasn't Stede, and he held his ground. "Iz," he said again, still keeping his voice calm. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Izzy glared at Ed, eyes narrowing. The two stared each other down for a few agonizing seconds before Izzy's face began to relax and he looked to the side, expression defeated. He put the knife and sharpener on a crate beside him and his gloved hand rubbed across his forehead. "I… I have a headache," he admitted softly. Though Stede could only imagine that was only a fraction of Izzy's problem, the one confession left a bitter look on the older man's face. Like it physically pained him to admit even that.

"Okay," Ed said slowly, looking like he was choosing each word carefully. "So you're just not feeling all that well, aye?"

"Aye," answered Izzy, sounding exhausted and irritated at the same time.

"Okay," Ed repeated. "It's okay not to always be okay, you know. You've seen me sicker than a bloody dog before."

Izzy didn't look convinced and Stede hated his brain for wondering what made him like this. The thought made him feel sad, and he never imagined feeling sad for Izzy. And for the first time since meeting him, Stede was overwhelmed with a need to fret. "Izzy, why don't you lay down? You can use our quarters if you'd like. There's more space, more privacy, it'll be more quiet-"

Izzy looked pissed off all over again, eliminating whatever progress Ed made to calm him down. "I didn't ask for your fucking suggestions, Bonnet. And I don't need your fucking opinions or your fucking bed. I can take care of myself, so fuck off."

Ed was quick to step in. "Hey, hey, hey, Iz. Iz, calm down." He put both hands on the man's shoulders now, and surprisingly wasn't pushed off this time. "He's just trying to help, so don't be an asshole."

"I don't want help."

"Not really a good reason to bite someone's head off just for offering it."

Izzy at least had it in him to look a little ashamed, but the expression was gone as quickly as it came, and no apology was offered, but Stede wasn't expecting one, nor did he mind. The man did look like hell, and expecting this to be the moment Izzy decided to be civil would be insane. "I don't want help," the man repeated. "I just want to go back to my own fucking room."

"And that's completely fine, Iz, but our quarters might be a better idea. There aren't any rooms right next to ours and your walls are… thin."

Stede didn't know what Ed meant by that, but Izzy clearly did. He grimaced and looked down, looking ashamed of something. "Fine," he said after a long pause, voice barely a whisper. "If you're both offering, fine."

Both. It surprised Stede his own thoughts on Izzy staying in their room meant anything to Izzy at all. Then again, he was always so cautious when it came to whatever boundary he had set between him and Ed in his own head. Stede accepted at the very beginning there was love between the two, and slowly grew to accept it, but Izzy resisted, like he was terrified of crossing a line that didn't really exist. Stede didn't know if it was because Izzy didn't want to share Ed, or if the man simply thought it was too good to be true. I'mStede felt bad, because he had assessed long ago Izzy's cantankerous personality was partially driven by the overwhelming need to push people away.

To protect himself.

"Yes, we are both offering," Stede assured him with a cheery smile that Izzy scowled at. "Plenty of room in our quarters. Why, just last week we let Lucius crash on our couch after a squabble with Black Pete. Woke up with both of them all cozy in the room." Stede knew it was a poor example, because Lucius wasn't in love with Ed and didn't feel like he was imposing on his relationship with Stede, but he hoped to normalize the generosity to Izzy regardless. The older man seemed unphased by the anecdote, Stede doubted he even heard him. He instead was looking down, hunched over slightly, avoiding eye contact entirely. He looked uncertain. No, wait. Embarrassed. Self-conscious. Ashamed. Stede tisked, putting his hands on his hips. "Oh come on, don't mind the crew, Izzy. Pay no attention to them or what they think." Stede glanced behind him, and sure enough there were more than a few pairs of eyes on the trio. He knew about Izzy's nickname, and he knew they used it as ammunition against the man whenever possible. It was no surprise Izzy was feeling self-conscious by the gawking.

Ed seemed to notice too. He put his arm around Izzy's shoulders, and was surprisingly not pushed away. "Alright, mate, come with me. Stede will keep the crew busy for a minute, won't you, Stede?"

Stede blinked. Well, he supposed he could do that. Distractions didn't come particularly difficult to him. He had been told throughout his life by just about everyone he loved the sound of his voice. "Oh, alright. Take him to bed, Ed, and then get him some tea." Ed nodded in agreement and began to lead Izzy away, ignoring the protests from the smaller man that he could walk there himself just fine. With that, Steede stood in the middle of the deck and clapped his hands together. "If I could have your attention please, gather 'round, gather 'round."

The different groups that were scattered about all looked at each other with uncertainty before gathering, their backs now facing away from where Ed was leading Izzy away. Stede smirked at all of them. "Now then, a few words of warning…."

****************************************

The lecture had been brief, Stede just told his crew that he knew they knew, or at least had a clue what was going on, and that it wasn't to be brought up by anyone on the ship. He didn't mention Izzy by name, he didn't explicitly tell them he was ill, more just a matter of "I know you know, now shut up about it." It was about five minutes later Stede was entering their room. It was dark, Ed probably blew out the majority of the candles and drew the curtains first thing, and he also wasn't there, so he was probably already getting the tea. Izzy was though, still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, body turned slightly so his back was facing Stede.

"I was hoping Ed would get you into something more comfortable before wandering off. I'm sure you don't want me doing it. Although, I am not above helping out any crew mate who-"

And then he heard it. Not a lot could bring Stede's ramblings to a halt so quickly, but that was definitely one of them. Now it made sense--what Ed said about their quarters being more private. About Izzy's own walls being thin. He heard a sickening splash on what sounded like plastic, and sure enough when Stede moved closer, he could see the small basin in Izzy's lap. The man coughed, and his back arched as another wave of dark brown vomit came up, seemingly effortlessly. Stede winced and approached him slowly, using Ed's wild animal method. "Izzy?" he asked cautiously.

Izzy spat into the basin. "Fuck o-" A dry heave interrupted his attempt to brush of Stede's concern, and after was replaced by a simple, breathless, "fuck".

Stede winced, moving closer so he was right behind Izzy, but made sure not to touch the bed, and more importantly, made sure not to touch him. However, when a painful, guttural heave brought up very little, it was apparent this wasn't so effortless anymore. Stede winced in sympathy because it looked bloody painful and Izzy's body was trembling violently as he spat unproductively into the basin. Stede could feel his care-taker instincts screaming at him to help, but this was Izzy of all people, and there were boundaries. "Izzy, are you okay with me touching you?" he asked.

Izzy coughed into the basin before answering. "I knew you were a fucking pervert." He gagged into the basin again, and Stede pretended not to notice the man's eyes beginning to water.

"No, no, no," Stede said quickly. "I just mean… well I am a dad, and I have been a husband, and I've sat through this before. Let me… help."

“Don’t need help puking,” Izzy growled, breathing heavily. “Body kind of just does it on its own.”

“Do you think it was something you ate?” Stede asked.

Izzy shook his head and winced. “No. Head hurts.” Stede frowned at that because he didn’t know a headache could make someone nauseous as well. Izzy spoke up again before Stede could ask any questions. “Just leave. I’m not finished.”

Izzy closed his eyes, and for a moment it looked like he was about to fall forward, so Stede had no choice but to take action without consent and he grabbed the man’s shoulders gently. “I got you,” he whispered. “I got you.” Izzy seemed to have regained his balance, and since the whole no-touching ship had already sailed, he began to rub his back. Stede’s other hand brushed aside sweaty strands of hair that was dangling down beside Izzy’s face. Izzy didn’t shove him off, so he stayed, waiting as Izzy hovered his head above the basin with his eyes closed. “Are you sure you have anything left?” Stede asked gently, but apparently jinxed the man because a weak gag brought up a trickle of bile and sick. Stede could feel the trembling now beneath his hand and he physically could not hold back a small coo. “Spoke too soon. I’m sorry, darling.” He placed his hand on Izzy’s right shoulder and began to massage the area, before moving onto his left, and then the base of his neck. Meanwhile, Izzy heaved as though he were trying to bring up his literal stomach itself.

“Oh, Iz.” Stede turned around, looking in the direction of his partner’s voice. Ed was in the doorway, a tray in his hands which he quickly put down on the table in front of the couch before hurrying to the bed. He sat on the opposite side of Stede next to Izzy and pressed a kiss to the man’s sweaty temple. “Figured it was only a matter of time. That’s why I brought stuff to help your stomach too.” Izzy just nodded, wincing again. “Don’t move your head too much, mate. You don’t have to nod, you don’t have to talk, just focus on breathing, okay?”

Izzy didn’t say anything right away, but he took a few deep breaths, indicating Ed’s message was loud and clear. After a few moments however, he whispered, “I’m done. Can someone help get this out of my face?”

Stede gently pried the basin from Izzy’s hands, figuring he had over-stayed his welcome and that Izzy would want Ed to take the caretaking into his hands. He heard Ed’s gentle whispering behind him as he left the room to dump the contents into the ocean. Suddenly, he felt like he was the one imposing, but he didn’t feel jealous. Just… left out.

When he was back in their quarters, Izzy was lying down, underneath the covers, his clothes discarded on the floor except his undergarments, and Ed was spooning him, raking one hand through his hair, the other hand holding Izzy’s forehead while he rubbed his temples with his thumb. Izzy’s eyes were closed, but he was awake, and lines of pain were etched onto his face. Ed looked up at Stede and softly said, “He gets headaches like these sometimes. They aren’t normal headaches, like other people get. He gets them sometimes when he’s sick, and sometimes they make him sick.”

“He is right here,” Izzy mumbled, but was gently shushed by Ed.

“Shh… Shh… just rest, Iz.”

Izzy opened his eyes slowly, squinting up at Ed, blinking slowly. It looked to Steede as though every slight movement, no matter how miniscule, was physically painful for Izzy. “Actually, Edward, I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“My salve is in my room, on my desk. You know what it looks like.”

Ed nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of Izzy’s neck. “‘Course, be right back, mate.” Ed got up slowly, careful not to jostle the bed too much before he left the room, squeezing Steede’s hand on the way out.

“Why didn’t you have me get it?” Stede asked, standing next to the bed.

Izzy closed his eyes and sighed. “Needed to get him out of here so I could talk to you.” Izzy grimaced and winced as he began to slowly sit up and Stede did the best he could to help by propping up pillows behind him so he didn’t have to sit up as much.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Izzy didn’t hesitate. “Why are you okay with this?”

“Okay with what?”

“Why are you okay with my… situation with Edward?”

Stede frowned. Keeping Ed to himself never really crossed his mind. It was apparent from the beginning that wasn’t in the cards. Ed always had a lot of love for Izzy, and probably always would, and he didn’t want to get in between something so special for the both of them. “Well,” he began slowly. “I suppose I want him to be happy, and you deserve to be happy too, and Ed still loves me as well, so we can all be happy.”

Izzy grimaced. “I hated you for it. Why are you so nice to me when I wanted to cut your head off? It’s because you know nothing will change for you, isn’t it? You know I’m no competition, I never have been. You don’t have to be jealous because you know Blackbeard will never feel for me the way he feels for you. He’ll never love me like that, not that much.”

This had to be the fever talking, Stede thought. What Izzy was saying didn’t make sense. He slowly sat down on the bed and shook his head sadly. “Oh, Izzy. You are not a daft man at all, but you can be absolutely stupid sometimes. Ed does love you--he loves you a lot. When I told him something was going on with you, he ran out of here quick as lightning. For god’s sake, he tells you he loves you. Do you think he’s just lying? That it’s all an act?” Izzy didn’t answer, but he shrugged a little, avoiding eye contact with Stede. Stede reached out and took his hand in his and squeezed it gently, surprised Izzy didn’t pull away. “Ed loves you,” he repeated. “And I… well, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either,” Izzy said with a sigh. “Well, not anymore. I got over it.”

“Good. Because if you’re going to be sleeping in our bed with both of us, it would be awkward if we did hate each other.”

“Izzy, I got it.” Ed came back into the room quietly, voice barely a whisper. In his hands was a jar of something unidentifiable to Stede. He didn’t need to ask, as Ed felt the need to explain anyway. “This is made up of natural shit, like peppermint, lavender, and uh…”

“Feverfew and eucalyptus,” Izzy finished, holding his hand out. “Just give it to me, you twat.”

Ed continued his explanation anyway. “You just rub it along his forehead, bridge of his nose, and I always get behind the ears for good measure. Helps with the pain.” Stede was surprised this was being explained to him as though he’d need this information for future reference, but he paid attention anyway. Ed looked back at Izzy. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No. I’ve been man-handled enough today. Give it.”

Ed passed the salve to Izzy, giving Stede a smirk. “And sometimes he’s a stubborn arse who insists on doing it himself even though he likes it when I do it for him.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Izzy snarled, but there was very little bite in his tone. If anything, he just sounded tired. He opened up the jar, the smell of natural herbs and spices filling the room and began to rub it over his forehead. When he was finished, he handed the jar back to Ed, who placed it on the bedside table. “I’m going to rest for a bit, I don’t care what you two do.” With that, Izzy sunk back down onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and closing his eyes.

Ed tisked and pulled off his shirt and trousers and climbed into the right side of the bed, pulling a bundled up Izzy close to his chest. “Come on, Izzy, we’ve been mates long enough that I know you like a little company when you’re feeling icky.” Izzy let out a little humph but otherwise didn’t protest.

Maybe it was because he was feeling tired too, or maybe it was because he wanted to test the waters, or a combination of the two, but Stede stripped down to his undergarments as well and climbed into the bed where there was room. On the left-hand side, next to Izzy Hands. He turned on his side, so Izzy’s back was to him, and he was facing Ed. Ed’s arms were preoccupied holding the man close, so Stede tentatively reached his own over to feel Izzy’s forehead. “Still warm,” he concluded. “Maybe we should get some of that tea in ya before you nod off.”

“No, I’ll puke. And maybe my fever would go down if you two just let me sleep instead of bothering me.”

“Very well,” Stede said with a yawn. He closed his own eyes, focused on the sounds of the sea, and the breathing of the two men beside him, and drifted off rather quickly.

Stede was woken up by warmth. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down, and much to his surprise, a feverish Izzy was clinging onto him, his salt and pepper head tucked underneath Stede’s chin, face nuzzled into his neck. Ed was gone, maybe to check up on things on the ship, or maybe just to go to the bathroom, but Izzy had apparently chosen to seek comfort elsewhere in his sleep. Stede was sure conscious Izzy would hate this, so he started to pull away slowly.

“Lay still. For fuck’s sake.” Izzy cracked one eye open just long enough to glare at him before closing it again and returning to his position.

“How are you feeling?” Stede asked sincerely.

Izzy sighed. “Sick, Bonnet. I feel fucking sick. Same as I did three fucking hours ago, twat. Now shut up.”

And Stede did. He opted to just quietly run his fingers through Izzy’s hair, wondering how in the hell he and Izzy reached this point. Then it suddenly dawned on him why Ed left the bed.

Conniving bastard.

#our flag means death #OFMD #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #polyamourous #sickfic #vomiting #emeto #emetophobia #sick izzy hands #caring blackbonnet #fanfic #soft boyfriends #izzy is an asshole

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ablogcalledrevenge · 1 year

Text

A Stranger Things Hanukkah Special!

A/N: Happy Hanukkah to all my fellow Jews out there! I’ve been reading so many sweet and lovely Steddie Christmas fics that I felt like contributing myself. I personally headcanon the Byers and Eddie as Jewish, so I wanted to write something festive of my own. I’ll be completely transparent and admit I didn’t actually watch season 4, just got the synopsis from multiple people, but just like OFMD, the Steddie brainrot is real. I hope you like it and may your holidays be full of warmth and love!

Eddie arrived around noon at Steve’s house just before he was about to jump in the shower. He came in holding a bag of onions in one hand and a small sack of potatoes in the other. He also had a backpack that looks full to bursting.

“Good afternoon Mr Harrington. I’ve come to hijack your Christmas party.” Eddie announced, bowing low on Steve’s doorstep. Rolling his eyes fondly, Steve let him in from the cold.

“You’re hijacking my Christmas party?” He deadpanned, watching Eddie unload his things and wash his hands at the sink in the kitchen. There were plain sugar cookies cooling on the counter; Steve was going to let all the kids decorate them during the party.

“Well, I was talking to Jonathan, you know Jonnyboy right Stevie? Anyway, we were talking and he mentioned how much El loves Christmas because it’s still really brand new to her and how Joyce actually started teaching her about Hanukkah back in Cali because the Byers are actually Jewish so El by extension is too. So then I was like, no way I’m Jewish too! I can help you guys celebrate Hanukkah! And then Jonathan was like, oh we should have a Hanukkah party. And then I said, fuck that, let’s just merge with Steve’s.” Eddie rambled, scrubbing at the potatoes while Steve watched, his brain trying to follow the conversation.

“So here you are?” Steve realized, a smile breaking out onto his face.

“So here I am!” Eddie replied, brandishing a potato with a cheeky grin.

“Well my house is your oyster, so go crazy. I think it’s a great idea. I mean, shit Eddie I didn’t even know you were Jewish! We could have done this from the beginning.” Steve said, feeling a small spike of guilt as he gestured to his kitchen and beyond.

“No worries Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’m Jewish on my mom’s side so it’s not like it’s super obvious. Like why give people another reason to target me, y’know? I just think having a Christmas and Hanukkah party would be nice for El, and everyone else. So, I’m making latkes!” He explained, making himself at home in Steve’s kitchen. It made the guilt fade away into something warmer.

“I was actually about to take a shower and then run out to grab a few last minute things. You can use whatever you can find. There are bowls and plates in that cabinet and the cutting boards are in that one under the knife block.” Steve pointed out while Eddie gave him a jaunty salute.

“No worries, big boy, I got this all under control. “He smiled, whipping out some cassettes from his backpack. Steve chuckled all the way up the stairs, the sound of Dio accompanying his shower.

~~~~~~~~

When Steve came back down the stairs, showered and dressed, the smell of oil and onions greeted him. Eddie had switched the music to something softer, still metal, but softer.

“Almost done?” He asked, startling Eddie in the middle of grating potatoes. The other boy flinched, and gave Steve an unimpressed glare. Then the pain caught up to him.

“Ah shit, cut my finger.” Eddie mumbled, a small dot of blood welling up on his knuckle. Steve sprung into action. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist, bringing his injured finger over to the sink to rinse in cold water. Then he grabbed his kitchen first aid kit, wisely kept under the sink, and dressed the minor wound with neosporin, a dinosaur bandage, and a soft kiss.

“Dinos huh?” Eddie asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh shut up, it’s for the kids. Are you okay?” Steve shot back, blushing madly once he realized what he did. He was still holding Eddie’s hand as well. For some reason he didn’t want to let go. Not until Eddie assured him he was okay.

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s all part of the process anyway. You’re not making real latkes unless you cry or cut yourself. The blood adds flavor.”

“You got blood in the potatoes?!” Steve yelled, dropping Eddie’s hand and grabbing the bowl. He didn’t see any specks of red…

“Nah, probably not. That’s just an old wives’ saying, you know, to make the kids laugh when they hurt themselves while helping their moms.” Eddie replied, gently bumping his shoulder into Steve’s.

“Right, well, I’m going to head out before you give me a heart attack. Robin and the others should be here soon to finish decorating. I’ll be back in, like, an hour. Maybe a little more.” Steve said, grabbing his coat, scarf, and keys. Winter had officially come to Hawkins and he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Sounds good. Ooh, pick up some sour cream and applesauce while you’re out. We’ll need them for the latkes and you’re fresh out.” Eddie called over his shoulder.

Steve nodded absently, tugging on his sneakers. Maybe a hat? Nah, he’d already done his hair and he didn’t want to have to do it again.

He opened the door to a gust of wind that nearly knocked him on his ass, and felt all his hard work go to waste.

“Hey, hold on. It’s cold out there. I know your hair is, like your thing, but I think protecting your whole head is a little more important.” Eddie teased, carefully placing a black knit hat over Steve’s head. It was the one he’d worn coming in and it smelled a little like tobacco smoke. They were very close and Steve could see the different shades of brown in Eddie’s eyes as he pulled the hat over his ears.

“There we go, nice and warm. See you in a bit.” Eddie said with finality, resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Struck with an almost uncontrollable urge to close the distance and kiss Eddie, Steve gave a shaky smile and pulled away. He didn’t look back as he closed the door behind him. The biting cold helped him remember what he needed to do and hopefully, eased the red he knew was on his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~

When Steve returned, bags in his arms, the house was full of light and noise. It seemed like almost everyone had come over during his absence and Eddie’s music had been replaced by the usual Christmas songs.

Robin bounded over to him, Santa hat resting on her blonde head, and grabbed some of the bags. Then she took off the beanie Eddie had loaned him and replaced it with a Santa hat to match hers. Kissing her cheek in thanks, the two brought everything into the kitchen. One bag, Steve made sure to keep to himself.

Nancy and Jonathan greeted him as they started to empty the bags, putting things away. Eddie was at the stove, hair up in a messy ponytail. He gave a thumbs up when Steve showed him the sour cream and applesauce, lifting a golden brown latke out of the oil and onto a paper towel.

“It smells great in here. I can’t wait to try them.” Steve said, stepping up close behind Eddie and peering over his shoulder.

“Thanks, it was my mom’s recipe. I’m actually so relieved they’re turning out so great. Last year I didn’t squeeze enough of the water out and they completely fell apart in the oil.”

“Ah rookie mistake but it happens to us all.” Jonathan piped up from his place leaning against the counter.

“Anyone want a beer?” Steve asked, opening his fridge to put away the sour cream. He got yeses from everyone, and pulled out a six pack. Someone screamed in the living room and every adult froze.

Then the sound of laughter reached them and Lucas yelled that El had to warn him before lifting him in the air. The adults in the kitchen relaxed, the fight going out of them like air in a balloon.

“I swear, these kids are gonna make me go grey.” Steve muttered, opening his beer. Once Eddie was done with the stove, he was going to pull out the mulled wine. He figured it would be nice for the older members of the party after dinner.

Dustin entered the kitchen, baseball hat firmly on his head. He was still dressed for the season though, sporting a handmade Christmas sweater that his mom had made him. It was bright red with green christmas trees and candy canes. Claudia had even weaved tinsel into the strands of the trees, making them sparkle. It was very charming and ridiculously ugly and Steve had a matching one upstairs.

“Is it almost time to eat? We finished decorating and I’m hungry.” He pouted, collapsing on the little table in the kitchen like he was too weak to stand. The others laughed.

“You see Eddie? This is your son.” Steve sighed, grabbing the plates and silverware. Eddie in turn, just cackled.

“Here, go make yourself useful and set the table for everyone.” Robin said, pointing to the plates and then to the dining room. Dustin gave a long suffering groan but did as he was told.

“And don’t forget a place for Argyle, he’s on his way.” Nancy called out, perfectly content to stay exactly where she was under Jonathan’s arm. Steve was just about to open his mouth and ask where the dude was, when the doorbell rang.

“I GOT IT!” Mike yelled skidding from the living room to the door in his fluffy socks.

With the smell of pizza and sugar wafting, Argyle entered. His clothes were colorful and mismatching but still festive and Steve couldn’t help but laugh, his heart filled with that stupid Christmas joy everyone was always talking about.

“I brought the pizza and the jelly doughnuts dudes! So let’s eat, yeah?” He said, Mike leading him into the dining room to put down his boxes. Everyone, having heard his arrival, quickly ran to the table, eagerly awaiting the latkes.

The adults in the kitchen joined them, leaving Steve and Eddie to each grab a platter. Eddie had the beautiful tower of latkes, while Steve spooned applesauce, sour cream, and jelly into bowls.

The crowd cheered when the food was finally presented, everyone happily digging in. The quiet lasted for a few moments, everyone focused on putting their plate together and taking first bites. Then it exploded into the noise you’d expect from 7 kids and 6 adults. Heaps of praise were given to Eddie, everyone loving the latkes.

“These are way better than Mom’s.” Will whispered to his brother, causing them both to giggle.

El asked for maple syrup at one point, which Steve got her, though he was confused.

“They’re pancakes? You eat pancakes with syrup right?” She asked sweetly, drowning said pancakes in it. Eddie laughed and took the syrup from her, adding it to his plate too.

“Right you are Supergirl! You can eat your latkes with whatever you want. I’ve even heard of some people using…” Here he paused for dramatic effect, “ketchup!”

The whole table groaned as Eddie shuddered.

“Wait, that makes more sense than syrup. You eat French fries with ketchup, so why not latkes. It’s basically the same thing.”

“Try before you deny Steve-o.” Argyle piped up, a smear of sour cream on his chin.

“Yeah, try before you deny!” El, Mike, and Will parroted back.

“But it’s not just potato, there’s onion in it and- oh forget it. You guys are weird.” Steve sputtered, shaking his head. Eddie patted his knee under the table in a way that felt both condescending and settling.

The group resumed eating their latkes and pizza, talking about holiday plans and hopes for the new year. Eddie told the story of Hanukkah as they ate, Jonathan and Will adding bits and pieces randomly. Someone, maybe Nancy, had lit candles in the middle of the table, giving the whole room a soft glow.

Steve glanced over at Robin sitting next to him, laughing at a barb Erica made towards Lucas, pizza grease on her fingers. Then he looked at Dustin, smiling wide, pearls on full display, while Max whispered something in El’s ear, the girl nodding in agreement. Finally he turned to Eddie on his other side, cutting up a latke and dipping it in syrup with a big smile on his face. He had taken his hair out of the ponytail from earlier and now it hung around his head in soft waves.

Steve wanted to do this every year. He wanted to do it every day. He wanted to do this with Eddie.

~~~~~~~~

Latkes and pizza eaten, the Party had migrated into the living room for presents and dessert. Steve was warming up the mulled wine when Eddie bounded in, looking for his backpack.

“I figure we can light the menorah and then open presents. It’s dark enough that it’ll look really nice next to the tree.” He explained, pulling out a box of candles.

“Oh wait, don’t move, I’ll be right back!” Steve said, running up the stairs to his bedroom where he’d stashed the last bag from today. He ran back down, almost out of breath from how fast he moved and presented the bag to Eddie.

Looking confused and a little worried, Eddie opened the bag and pulled out a pretty gold candle holder.

“It’s a menorah! I got it for you, for Hanukkah. I mean, I got you another present for Christmas but I felt bad that you weren’t getting anything for your holiday so I found it at the store and thought you’d like it. Do you like it?” Steve said, feeling his nerves creeping up on him.

Eddie hadn’t moved, or changed his expression. He just stared down at his present in shock.

“Oh fuck, I messed up, didn’t I? You hate it? I wasn’t supposed to get that for you, I was overstepping. You probably have a super nice one and I’m being rude. You can return it, I think the receipt’s in the bag…” He rambled, feeling more and more like Robin with every passing moment. What the hell, he used to be smooth! But instead he could feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as Eddie put down the candle holder and stepped closer to Steve. Shit, he was gonna get punched now.

But instead, Eddie gently grabbed his face, stopping the rant mid word and kissed him.

All of Steve’s thoughts froze dead in their tracks. Luckily his body seemed to pick up the pace faster than Steve, because after a moment of surprise, his arms came to wrap around Eddie’s shoulders. He didn’t know why Eddie was kissing him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t make the most of it.

Eventually, oxygen became important and they had to break apart. Eddie was flushed, smiling brightly. Steve knew he had a similar dopey look on his face.

“That’s not a menorah.” Eddie whispered, kissing Steve again all soft and sweet.

“It’s not? But it has the spots for your candles.” He pointed out, pulling away from Eddie to grab it. Laughing quietly, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, resting a chin on his shoulder from behind.

“A menorah for Hanukkah needs 9 spots. One for each night and one for the helper candle, called a shamash. This one only has 6 but it’s beautiful and I appreciate the gesture. It means a lot that you wanted to get me something for Hanukkah.” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s cheek as he slumped against him.

“Well shit. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, giving said candle holder a glare. Eddie shook his head and turned Steve around.

“Nah, it’s perfect. It came from you and I love it.”

Steve leaned forward to kiss him again, feeling drunk with joy, when Robin’s voice echoed into the kitchen.

“Hey what’s the hold up? The kids wanna open presents!”

Steve and Eddie laughed and unhappily pulled themselves apart. Eddie grabbed an actual menorah from his backpack and went into the living room while Steve poured out wine for everyone. They had candles to light and presents to open!

~~~~~~~~

Once everyone was in the living room and huddled around the fireplace mantle, they began. Jonathan pulled out a bag of yarmulkes, saved by Joyce over the years, for the boys to wear if they wanted. Steve got a gold satin one with the inscription Sammy and Ellen, A Golden Anniversary 1980. He hoped it brought him luck. Dustin put his on top of his baseball hat. (”It’s a gift from Suzie, I can’t take it off!”)

Eddie, Jonathan, and Will said the prayers while lighting the candles, El and Nancy shakily following along. The sound was beautiful with all the different voices coming together. The prayer didn’t seem too complicated and it had a pretty rhythm. Eddie’s pinky brushed against Steve’s and linked for a moment which was probably Steve’s favorite part.

Candles lit and tree turned on, the kids flopped onto the floor to exchange presents. Steve may have gone a bit overboard this year, but the various squeals of delight made the hole in his wallet worth it.

They drank the wine and ate the doughnuts, sufganiyot was what Eddie called it, as Will explained dreidel to them.

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea. You guys can get pretty competitive...” Nancy said, looking wary.

“It’s not a competition if you know you’re gonna win.” Max scoffed, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. This started a lively debate about if dreidel was anything more than a game of chance. Eddie passed out gelt, one of which Argyle immediately unwrapped and ate. Considering there were so many of them, teams were picked.

Jonathan and Nancy. Will and Lucas. El and Max. Robin and Steve. Dustin and Mike. Eddie, Erica, and Argyle as the true wildcard team.

“You guys are going down!” Robin shouted, pointing at every other team.

“Oh please, like I’m going to lose to you. You still owe me ice cream.” Erica shot back, crossing her little arms across her chest.

They played for a good amount of time, Steve paying little attention to the clock on the wall. The candles in Eddie’s menorah slowly burned down as the Christmas lights twinkled.

Finally, after much hemming and hawing and claims of cheating, one team stood victorious.

El and Max sat behind the largest pile of gelt, smiling widely and looking very smug. Eddie proclaimed them the winners and scooped Max up, Jonathan following with El, and paraded them around the living room to cheers from their adoring fans.

Someone turned the radio back on, Christmas music playing quietly under the conversations. Steve, pressed up tight against Eddie on the couch, couldn’t remember a more enjoyable Christmas. Normally he’d spend the season alone, his parents coming home on the 25th to exchange gifts and then flit off to some fancy party. He’d gotten offers to spend the day with others, Robin and Dustin and his old friends, but he turned them down. He hated feeling like the odd man out.

But now, with everyone in his home, warm and safe and happy, that feeling was gone. He was with his family, one that he had found and loved all by himself.

Plus Eddie, smelling like powdered sugar, oil, cinnamon, smoke, and all of Steve’s dreams rolled into one. Plus Eddie, who shared his heritage with all of them. Plus Eddie, who kissed him in the kitchen with the promise of more.

Finishing his cup of wine, Eddie leaned forward to place it on the coffee table, before laying back against the couch. His arm came up to wrap around Steve’s shoulders with a contented sigh. Steve mimicked the sound and snuggled deeper into the couch and Eddie.

Robin caught his eye and raised her eyebrow. Steve flushed and used their best friend/platonic soulmate mind reading powers to tell her they’d talk about it tomorrow. She gave the two of them a long, searching look, but apparently happy with what she saw, turned back to her conversation with Nancy.

~~~~~~~~

Much later, when everyone had left and the house was empty, Steve and Eddie cleaned up. They threw away wrapping paper and pizza boxes, picking up balls of metal gelt wrappers to toss as well. Eddie cleaned up the oil and the leftover potatoes. Steve boxed up food for Wayne and Keith, hoping to get in good with both. It was especially important now that he had a boyfriend.

Wait, did he?

“Does Hanukkah have any other traditions that we didn’t do?” He asked abruptly. Eddie wiped down the stovetop and made a noncommittal noise, focused on a stubborn grease mark.

“Like Christmas has tons of random traditions, does Hanukkah have those too?” He continued, resting his hands on his hips.

“Um well, I guess maybe if you’re Sephardic or from a completely different country. But as far as I know, we basically did everything for Hanukkah. We’re done for the night. Why? Was there something else you wanted to do?” Eddie asked, throwing out the paper towel.

“Well I wanted to know if Hanukkah had anything like mistletoe. I like mistletoe.” Steve whispered, suddenly embarrassed.

“I literally kissed you a few hours ago, you don’t need mistletoe if you want to do that again.” Eddie laughed, taking a step closer to Steve.

“Yeah but it’s more romantic that way. Like I could kiss you”, which Steve did, “and then ask if you wanted to be my boyfriend. That would be so festive and romantic.”

Eddie sputtered and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his bare neck.

“I don’t know. What you just did there was pretty romantic. Consider me wooed. Also yes, of course. I’ve been crushing on you since the moment you found me in the boathouse.” He admitted in the quiet of the kitchen. Steve’s heat soared and he lifted Eddie’s head to kiss him again.

“Happy Hanukkah Eddie. I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Happy Hanukkah Steve. Nes gadol haya poh.”

~~~~~~~~

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #happy hanukkah!!#this is unbeta'd so forgive any mistakes #jewish eddie munson

36 notes · View notes

happyfeetfuryroad · 9 months

Text

You know what's weird?

The last minutes of Good Omens 2 episode 6 should have made me feel sad and frustrated, like the ending of season 1 of OFMD did a year ago. And yet, something is different this time.

Now, I would love to be able to tell that I remember the euphoria of being surprised to see Edward and Stede's kiss, but unfortunately I started watching the show after having all the important plot points spoiled, so while I was still absolutely delighted by it, I wasn't caught off guard like many other people were.

With Good Omens 2, I was only mildly spoiled, and I didn't know any details on what was going to happen in the final episode. The possibility of a kiss was kinda hanging out in the back of my mind, but I wasn't convinced that it would actually happen - and I knew that the ending was going to be angsty, so I was keeping my expectations relatively low.

But. Goddamn. When it actually happened, it was fucking electrifying.

It's weird because, I was never that deep into the ineffable husbands fandom to begin with. I'd read the book and watched season 1 and enjoyed them both, and it was pretty obvious to me that Aziraphale and Crowley were queer (Neil Gaiman never denied this, so it was an unusually drama-free situation too). I never really thought their relationship would escalate any further, because they were already self-evidently together and I didn't think they needed to "prove" it (and I still stand by this btw, I think in a healthy media ecosystem there is a place for subtle queerness that doesn't require any grand romantic gestures to prove its existence). So I kinda left it at that.

Then I started watching season 2, and I started feeling a specific kind of déjà vu. They (and by "they" I mean mostly Crowley) were doing the whole "side character calls them a couple and they adamantly deny it" act that was a signature of 2010s era queerbaiting (Sherlock being a particularly egregious example). However, I knew for a fact that Neil Gaiman wasn't queerbaiting - again, he had never denied the fact that Good Omens is, among other things, a love story, and there hadn't been a single no homo joke that you would expect from a queerbaiting writer - so I just kind of waved it off as a throwaway joke and forgot about it.

And then episode 6 came about. And Crowley began to tear up as he tried to let Aziraphale know how he felt about him.

Oh.

And then he and Aziraphale started arguing with each other about their future, and the tension started to build.

Oh.

And then Crowley said "you idiot. We could have been us."

OH-

And then the music swelled into an epic dramatic choir as Crowley angrily stepped closWAY TOO CLOSE AND-

And I... can't describe the rush of pure dopamine and adrenaline that I felt watching this scene unfold. It was unreal. My heart was pounding out of my goddamn chest. It felt fake. It had to be fake. This is the kind of shit that only ever happens in fanfiction. It was too good to be true.

Then the rest of the finale happened and it was awful but that's besides the point

And even though in a way it was the same feeling of "holy shit, they actually made the main characters kiss" I had with Edward and Stede, this was also very different.

See, Edward and Stede kissed in the same season they got introduced in, and there was no original material that the show was based on (I'm not counting the real life pirates because OFMD is a very loose interpretation anyway). You couldn't really know what you were getting into, so the protagonists completely skipped the queercoded part and jumped straight into "literal protagonists of a romcom" territory.

Aziraphale and Crowley, on the other hand, were already existing characters, in a book and a TV show where their relationship was already established as "queer enough for anyone who pays attention, but subtle enough for a casual viewer to be able to ignore it". Their kiss in season 2 wasn't there to confirm that they love each other, but to make it clear that there is passion in their love. There's that raw, visceral attraction that queer people are so often discouraged from displaying in public because it's seen as uniquely dirty or inappropriate (or predatory, when it's two people perceived as male).

And it's happening late enough into the story that a lot viewers who may be like "I'm fine with gays so long as it's not in my face" will be forced to digest it - but also early enough into the story that we have an opportunity to see how Crowley and Aziraphale's love story unfolds now that the chips are truly down. Which is why, personally, I was happy to see season two end on a cliffhanger.

So yeah. I think I'll go watch that scene for the twentieth time today.

#good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #long post #i just have a lot of feelings i couldn't fit them all in this ramble #ineffable husbands

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adickaboutspoons · 2 months

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List five of your least-popular fics, as well as when/why you wrote them. Tag five people to play. Shamelessly stolen from someone foolish enough to say they were tagging "anyone who wants to play." I'm going to go ahead and interpret "least-popular" as "has received fewest hits"? I mean, I have a (prolly unhealthy) spreadsheet with data like the ratio of kudos:hits, which is PROLLY the most accurate way of determining what was well-liked by the people who read it, but that's also possibly just speculation (except Like I Want to be Awake, my beloved. It's got the lowest ratio of them all, and even the people who were nice enough to comment have mentioned that the ending is a bit of a downer because it's canon-compliant. So I can easily imagine that readers getting to the end of 16K and being mad about the "downer ending" that I didn't warn for). Anyway. Unbelievable: written in August 2023 in response to @ofmd-dailyquest prompt: Make Up Unbelievable Stories about The Most Fearsome Pirate. I'm not surprised this one has so few hits. It's T-rated (generously, could easily be G), and Jeffery Fettering is the POV character. Who's that? Exactly (The answer is the guy who approached him in the tavern in Bridgetown). Just because I like to imagine the string of repressed white dudes inspired to piracy that Stede leaves in his wake doesn't mean it's gonna be everyone's cuppa. It's about Jeffery and his tavern buddies making up nasty stories about Blackbeard's exploits to entertain themselves and Jeffery realizing that they're all full of shit and he's bored out of his skull and hitting much closer to the truth than he knows.

Hook Head Man Tale: written in April 2023 in response to another @ofmd-dailyquests prompt: Learn the Hook Head Man Tale (Bonus: Discover how he Eats and how he Kisses). Another one I'm not surprised about. It's G-rated, and it's kind of bad on purpose (from a technical writing stand-point; it's written in the style of Young Stede's first self-insert fan fiction, so it's pretty self-indulgent and overwrought). It's the story of Young Stede meeting a creature with a hook for a head because he's under a curse. And breaking that curse to reveal it was really a fairy with long black hair and big brown eyes all along... When a Good Plan Comes Together: written in September 2023. Ed and Stede plan a fuckery together for the first time after the reunion, and get caught up in the giddy euphoria of it and wind up making love on the paper-covered table. I've talked smack about it before. It's fine, and there's actually some pretty excellent metaphors and lovely turns of phrase in there, but mostly I'm cross with myself for lazily glossing over both the actual plan of the fuckery and the actual sex. Stede Sonnets: started in December 2023, but I add new ones every now and again when the fancy takes me. Exactly what it says on the tin - sonnets either about or from the perspective of Stede. Poetry isn't everyone's jam, so yeah - another one that I'm not particularly surprised it's not popular. Under Par: written in June 2023. Stede is golfing with the Badmintons and hating life. Ed is a flirty cart-girl (delivering beverages and snacks to golfers on the links) to the rescue! Remember when there was that 2-second clip of Taika in his Blackbeard get-up riding around in a golf cart in the bts footage from a Rita Ora music video? And we were so desperately starved for any news at all about the second season that we all lost our minds? So this is a little modern AU based on that clip and comments it inspired. It was v. much an "of the moment" fic, and now that we've all moved on from the moment, I'm not surprised there's not any interest in reading this one anymore. Ironically, this has the highest kudos:hits ratio of all my fics, so even though it's not been read by many, I guess those who did read it generally liked it? Tagging @bizarrelittlemew, @chocolatepot, @emi--rose, @epersonae, & @forpiratereasons

And, of course, anyone who wants to play 😉

#ofmd fic #ofmd #our flag means death #tag game

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littleoddwriter · 2 years

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i cant not take advantage of your open requests + ofmd brain rot sorry <3 i love your works and i cant wait to read more, especially about these characters!! might i request stede x male (trans, if you want to!) reader in a soft cutesy relationship, maybe stede comforting the reader about their anxiety? thank you in any way, you're doing gods work, love you and youre work <3

With You | Stede Bonnet x Male!Reader

Hello there!!! No apology necessary, I appreciate it! Thank you SO much, gosh, that really means a lot to me, I'm--- <3 <3 <3 Ok, sooo, due to the anxiety portion, this may not be super cute or whatever after all, but I tried, sorry! Hope you like it anyway, thanks for the request and everything else, thank you so much!!! Love you, too! <3 :D <3 Take care! :')

summary; You're having a panic attack and Stede helps you out.

notes; Male!Reader; Anxiety; Panic Attack; Comfort; Fluff.

When Stede had left to become a pirate, you had gone with him, no questions asked, no second thoughts attached. You had always loved him and could never live without him, and so when he had asked if you wanted to come with him, you couldn’t have agreed any faster.

Since he had finally been free in the sense that his family life wasn’t looming over him anymore, it had just barely taken any time for you two to get together. Your first kiss had been magical to say the least. Nothing had ever felt so right in your life.

Your relationship wasn’t a secret among the crew, nor was it a problem. Neither of you ever wanted to return back to Bridgetown.

Now, the only issue you had was that being on a ship on the open sea in potentially life-threatening situations every single day only made things worse for you, in terms of this anxiety you’ve been feeling for virtually no reason since forever. You had hoped that maybe it was the confines of life at home and the expectations you couldn’t meet that caused it; but now that you were on sea and free of those, you guessed that the underlying issue was a different one.

You weren’t always sure what triggered it, either.

One moment everything was fine and the next you were cowering on the bed in your room that you shared with Stede, like you were right now. You were breathing quickly and shallowly, while your heart was about to beat out of your chest and your vision was blurry and spotty. Your body felt hot and cold at the same time. Your palms were sweaty. It was a living nightmare.

“Y/N? I was just talking to myself on deck, thinking you were next to me. Turns out, you were h- Hey. What’s wrong?” Stede’s voice cut through this fog your anxiety had created.

Shaking your head, you looked up at him. You couldn’t say anything. Your throat was closed tight. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Oh, God, you couldn’t breathe!

Stede sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his hands on your shoulders, as he made eye contact with you. His gaze was kind, understanding and so gentle. Always so gentle. He was right to call himself the Gentleman Pirate. He truly was a gentleman, after all.

“You have to breathe. I know you can do it,” he said softly and inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, “See? Like this.” He repeated the deep breathing for you.

After a few moments that you panicked some more because the air you took in wouldn’t go past your throat, it seemed, you were finally able to take a deep breath. You exhaled shakily and did it again. A tear slipped out when you closed your eyes in relief and continued breathing in time with Stede.

His hands were stroking your upper arms and shoulders soothingly, massaging them lightly. “Y/N, What happened?” he asked worriedly, and when you opened your eyes again his expression certainly matched his tone of voice.

You felt stupid for worrying him. You had no idea what happened. Everything was fine. Until-

“A big wave shook the boat and caught me off guard. And then I just- I must’ve started panicking, I suppose. It’s stupid,” you explained what most likely caused it.

“No, no, no, that’s not stupid,” Stede said, looking offended on your behalf, which put a small, short-lived smile on your lips. He was so cute.

“Stede, we’re on a ship on the open sea. It is stupid that a simple wave made me panic like this,” you told him flatly, shaking your head at yourself with a scoff, “I shouldn’t be here and you know it.”

“You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be,” he responded firmly, almost instantly, “With me. On our ship. With our crew. I know that you’ve always had this problem with anxiety and panicking, but I’ll keep you safe. I promised, remember?”

For a moment you just looked at Stede in wonder. He did promise you that when you first boarded the Revenge. And you never doubted that he would keep it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “I love you, Stede.”

You could hear his breath stutter, as his eyes widened. He still wasn’t used to hearing you say that, you knew. And every time you revelled in his reaction. It had taken him quite a while to actually realise what his feelings for you were. But once he did, it all became a lot easier for you both. Stede was happier and it seemed like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It certainly was the same for you. Even if he had never loved you back, you were always at your happiest with him and that would have never changed; but the uncertainty had put a considerable weight on you at first.

“And I love you,” he said ever so softly before he leaned in to press a short, chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart skipped a beat, swelling with your love for him inside your chest, filling you with warmth.

A genuine smile finally spread across your face when you parted and Stede mirrored you. Both of you let out a soft chuckle at seeing each other grin like that, all teeth and happiness.

It was almost unbelievable to you that you’d felt short of dying only minutes ago; but that was the magic of Stede, you thought. No matter what, he always made you feel better. He made you smile when you thought you couldn’t. He made you feel all these wonderful things that you had never expected to. He made it seem like time stopped when you were with him, never wanting it to continue. It was such a gift that you sometimes wished people would see that he had, but it was only for you to know it.

Never once did you have to question whether or not coming aboard the Revenge was the right decision; even when, in your moments of weakness, you were convinced that you were not supposed to be there, you didn’t actually regret a thing. Stede was right, after all, he kept you safe and you belonged with him on the ship. With him. Always with him, no matter where or what.

#i hope i got stede right enough fhjksfhkshd ugh i'm nervous writing him for the first time ahhh #male reader #trans male reader #can be either #stede bonnet #stede bonnet ofmd #the gentleman pirate #stede bonnet x reader #rhys darby #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd fic

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

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01/23/2024 Daily Recap

Hey all! It's been another long day, but we've got lots of new resources on how to help and things have been very busy!

=Renew As A Crew Updates=

Sources: Tumblr / Twitter / Instagram

So it sounds like some of the silence going on is related to RaaC adhering to the Global Strike with Social Media going on for Palestine this week. Please visit the sources above for more information, they also go over how to interact with each platform we're trying to woo (I didn't include that here because it's already in the Daily Renewal List)

=Cast & Crew Sightings=

As every day has been lately, the star of today was chaos dad himself, David Jenkins with that article that was mentioned last night from popverse.

Also for that matter, he's excited about being close to 80K

Dad wasn't the only one trolling max today, the Crew got deep into it to the point that caseybloys blocked quite a few of them and then they got the hashtag "#OhBloysHeMad" trending. Here are some highlights because I feel like all the tumblr folk need to know how hard twitter went today.

=== How to Help ===

As usual, please refer to the Renewal Task List for daily updates, but great news, we now have a Renewal Task List for our friends outside the US as well. Apparently there are different effort in different countries, so we split them up. Please let me know if there's anything additional / more countries you'd like to see!

Renewal Daily Task List - US

Renewal Daily Task List - Outside US

The Crew also got super creative and put up some awesome new resources for folks to use. I've added quite a few to the Renewal Daily Checklists, but if I missed any please let me know! Here's some examples:

UK Our Flag Means Death Updates

News from the UK Thank you to @lamentus1 and @libbyroseitm for the updates!

Here’s our report from the UK News from the UK As you probably know the second season of OFMD is yet to air in the UK. Today we had an email saying that an announcement about when it will be on TV and iPlayer here will happen “Incredibly soon”. We love the use of the word incredibly! In response to how helpful our contact has been with replies we sent a single email with lots of names on it thanking them. Our best predictions for when OFMD2 might air in the UK is late February or early March. Once Season 2 starts to air in the UK we think we will see a significant increase in interest in Our Flag Means Death. We are currently looking into ways to harness this energy! (Obviously we hope that we’ll be adopted before season 2 aires here, but if not…) One idea is to hold another watch party to coincide with the arrival of season 2 here. Another idea is to hold a flash mob. Possibly at the Cutty Sark in London. TBC. We’re working on ideas and would love to hear people’s thoughts! Please reach out to @lamentus1 with ideas!

= Pirate Omens Watch =

Pirate Omens Watch happened today on Twitter and will continue tomorrow through friday. For more details please reference below - I caught the second half and was a lot of fun! Lot's of parallels and great opportunities to tweet at @pricevideo about them!

== Articles ==

Max Delivered the Final Blow to the Horny, Quirky Comedy

Hungarian News: Ritkán látott összefogás egy elkaszált sorozatért

== COOL ANALYTICS ==

So something else that I found super cool was this post on twitter by @havethisonelife

Anyway, I just love that kinda thing, and seeing that come from articles about OFMD is just super cool.

===================================

Okay I think that's everything. As usual, if I missed anything drastic please let me know! There wasn't a whole lot going on on IG today, seemed like twitter was the show horse.

===================================

Evening Message of LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE

You thought you were rid of me sending love-- but you were wrong!

Did you know you're fucking phenomenal? Like seriously. I read through all these tumblr threads, twitter, instagram, and all I fucking see is amazing people being fucking awesome to each other (and politely shitty to max which is also amazing).

People are posting in various places and saying they had a rough day, or they're sick (that was me!) and you kind buggers are reaching out and giving support and love and I'm so damn proud to be a part of this amazing crew. You are legit the best people I've ever met! (IRL or Internet).

Everyday you continue to impress me and every one of us with your creativity, kindness, ambition, and wonder. You make me laugh, I've cried a bit from some of the posts too (not a bad thing!) and in general just fucking make the world a better place. I can't wait to see all of you continue to shine, which reminds me of this quote:

"Nothing can dim the light that shines from within" - Maya Angelou

==================================

Alright, enough of the mushy stuff-- onto the Rhys and Taika eye-porn. (Is Rhys getting some head from Taika? Badummmshhhh, ok I'll leave now). Gnight!

#ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #our flag means us #ofmd #save ofmd #hoist the ads #renew as a crew #be a lighthouse #renew our flag means death #save our flag means death #adopt our crew #did you know if you put in too many tags and then you want to search on those tags it wont fuckingwork if they arent in the first couple?#Yeah thats what happened to me yesterday #tumblr wtf #anyway

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