#brain empty only Izzy hands.

[izzyspussy]

Another tit ask pls rank some of your favorite famous men's/fictional character tits, detailed reviews if possible

Top 5 Fictional Men's Tits

5. Jim Kirk (Star Trek: TOS)

They are always out. Simply can't be contained. Kirk has plot armor but his shirts have whatever the opposite of plot armor is, just like when a female character wears clothing that covers her midriff. It's a guaranteed casualty. Slutty, pink little nipples. There's that one post about his mommy milkers that made that dudebro shit blood. Frequently artfully dirty. Lowest on this list because they could be bigger and hairier, and also because Shat sucks enough to interfere with the inherent horniness of his character.

4. Batfleck (DCEU)

The first superhero in twelve thousand years they didn't wax from chin to big toe. His skin isn't shrink wrapped to his muscles. Nature is healing. They were just as mad as he was that whole movie, and then in the next one they were sad like him too. I like picturing Wonder Woman motorboating them. Also frequently dirty. But tbh... also could be bigger. Other Batmans could probably deliver on that, but alas all of them are significantly less slutty and have not sent me a picture of their tits.

3. Mick Rory (DCTV)

Not slutty and has not sent me a picture of his tits, but he makes up for it with being Big and unfathomably emotionally damaged. He's like the draft horse of men, and that's how I like 'em. I think it would be really hot and also really funny to bounce those things while he sits completely frozen like maybe if he stays still enough my heat seeking sexual objectification missile won't see him.

2. M'Baku (MCU)

BIG. Fit perfectly formulated to accentuate the girls, as god intended. Is that a peek of sideboob? Maybe so. I am staring. He should have been allowed to have them out. Everyone wanted this.

1. Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death)

TECHNICALLY Izzy has not sent me a picture of his tits, but Con O'Neill shows me his license (left) and registration (right) every single day. Hairy. Perky. Got a nice little bit of belly to support them. Izzy's all buttoned up- no, almost- almost buttoned up. He's got a little hint of sternum showing where he didn't do the last two buttons, despite having a tie!!, wearing all black for contrast, to draw your eye in, make you think about it, make you wonder, make you yearn. He could do everything the four runners up did. Boob window sliced open in battle that's a metaphor for gay sex? He could do that with his hands tied (please let him do that with his hands tied). Sweaty, bouncy, revenge training montage? Easy-peasy lemme squeezy. Prey fear response to a much younger, sluttier, and immeasurably more well-adjusted relentless flirt? Already done. Power slouch? Coming soon (season two, and me).

[Disclaimer: Accuracy of this post not guaranteed due to author's unreliable nature and inability to answer questions that can't be found through Wikipedia (I forgot every man I've ever been attracted to in my life as soon as I read this).]

#jack facts #jack chats #star trek #jim kirk #dc #batman #bruce wayne #mick rory #marvel #m'baku #ofmd #izzy hands #hc #truly you know it's not accurate because it's only live action and there are no big booby monsters #brain empty #thirst tag

[stizzysupremacy]

okay. Okay so. This is ridiculous but. The idea won’t get out of my brain ever since I started rewatching an old sitcom:

Izzy Hands as The Nanny

no no hear me out.

Izzy works in his bf Ed’s tailor shop (vs a bridal shop cuz even in an au I can’t stretch to see Izzy doing anything bridal for a living) until Ed wants to give Jack Rackham Izzy’s job and oh also he wants to start dating Jack too. So Izzy is out of a job and a relationship that’s been in the pre-engagement state for years. Izzy gets a part time job selling fine chef’s knives door-to-door (instead of makeup. Because it’s a good excuse to slip Steak Knife into the story and also because my bestie used to sell knives and I love him)

Izzy happens to show up at the Bonnet mansion household around the time they were expecting their newest nanny to come for an interview. Izzy thinks he is being invited in to give his sales pitch. In classic sitcom misunderstanding it takes a while for Stede to realize that Short Dark and Handsome here is not actually a manny with a resting rage face.

But by then Izzy has had a chance to interact with Stede’s kids and his household staff. Stede has fondness for anyone who is kind to his kids and has a secret awe for anyone who seems to get along with less awkwardness than he himself does. Izzy just talks to the kids like they are adults because he doesn’t know how else to deal with tiny people except to treat them like big people. Alma appreciates it.

The rest of the household (Buttons as the butler? Lucius as a PA? Roach as chef, Jim as driver, etc you get the idea) are surprisingly on board with hiring the guy who came to the door with a briefcase full of knives to provide daily childcare. He’s got no experience or qualifications but Izzy clearly does not take shit from anyone and won’t get scared off in under two months like the last nanny.

and look, the pay is really good. Even if Mr Bonnet is supremely annoying, he pays well and the kids seem fine, old enough to entertain themselves most of the time and not be very interested in interacting with some greying old man. He can get them to school and home from school, and deal with the occasional snotty cold or scraped knee for such a huge salary, with room and board on top! plus staying in the rich part of town cuts down on the chances of running into Ed and/or Jack.

So Izzy moves into the mansion and chases the Bonnet children around for a living. (Izzy quickly learns that the kids are still young enough to love playing pirates, something Stede started with them but has been too busy to do. Izzy, wearing an eye patch and brandishing a plastic sword, taunts Stede into joining their play by challenging him to duel (yes Stede smacks his ass with his sword))

obvious stede would never get full custody lol so there’s plenty of time when the kids are with their mother and Stede’s only company in the big empty house is Izzy Hands 😮😀

#stizzy #gentlehands #a modern au with an ‘izzy hands is good with kids’ agenda #Izzy hands

[chuplayswithfire]

One of my favorite things about the toe scene is what the show is saying about an Izzy win. Because the toe scene is Izzy winning and getting what he wants at detriment to everyone around him, including himself (how'd that toe taste buddy).

Izzy spends the entire show hating softness of any kind, hating openness, hating people who question his unearned authority (Stede, Lucius) or people who question at all (Fang) or people who make light of him strict authoritative bullshit (Wee John, Lucius) and uses violence to try and enforce his will and his way of seeing the world (his interactions with all of the above, and also calling the Navy because he's furious "(Stede's) done something to (his) boss's brain" as well as telling Ed he should have been killed by the English rather than grow into a person who think about quitting piracy and enjoy wearing a silk robe and openly express his sorrow.

Izzy rejects softness, rejects change to the traditionally abusive structures of piracy, and is thoroughly furious that getting rid of Stede Bonnet did not transform Ed back into the man he wants Ed to be. When he confronts Ed in episode 10, he focuses on tearing down who Ed has become and what he wants to do in growing into that person - tells Ed that he should have been murdered, that Izzy should have let him be murdered (which cough confirms that Izzy knew the English wanted Ed dead while he was working with them and instead dealt to have a different punishment cough the custody of captain Hands cough), demeans Ed as a namby-pamby pining for his boyfriend, and only reacts positively when Ed shoves him against a wall with a hand to his throat and demands that he "watch (his) tongue, dog".

There he is, Izzy says affirmatively.

And then he claims Blackbeard as his captain and rejects Edward. Rejects the idea of Ed being Edward to his crew, rejects the idea of Ed being open, soft, or engaging in comradery with the crew. Edward better watch his step, he says, moments after saying Ed deserves death and should have been murdered.

It's not a weak or vague threat to say someone should watch their step right after stating that you, the person issuing the threat, should have let them be killed.

Izzy clearly states here that he wants Blackbeard to be his captain. That Ed and everything that encompasses Izzy's idea view of who Ed is should be killed and has no value. Izzy wants the Blackbeard of legend and books and the old days.

The Blackbeard of the old days, episode 9 tells us, cuts toes off and makes their owners eat them for a laugh. Blackbeard kills whole crews, steals ships, and considers it the usual.

Izzy gets what he wants when Ed cuts his toe off, because Ed is living down to Izzy's perception of who he is (which is also Ed's nightmare, because a big chunk of Izzy's purpose in the narrative IS vocalizing and embodying all of Ed's worst fears in the same way the Badminton's do for Stede), and in doing so gives Izzy victory. Izzy wins here, because Ed is acting like the Blackbeard Izzy desires - cutting off toes, killing crews, and as a bonus, getting rid of all the stuff that contributed to Stede's "gross misuse of space" in the captain's quarters.

But it's hollow.

Ed is actually sobbing in his empty quarters, Jim is waking up pissed in captivity, Stede is alive and well and rescuing his crew and Lucius is in the walls and Izzy is still down a toe. Izzy won and got everything he wanted, the Revenge is a goth emo ship of grim darkness, and the show is telling us how its all going to fall apart around him.

#ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #edward teach

[izzystizzys]

obsessed with the izzy vs everyone height difference, but esp steddyhands coded

like. izzy, who‘s still so deeply caught in fighting all these battles against parts of him the world deems unworthy. for whom his stature and bearing were hardwon battles fought over years, who can’t shake the echo of bigger, stronger men always zeroing in on him as the easy target - for any number of things, height, weight, voice, a thousand others - and who’s always fought these battles violently and relentlessly

and the only person he’s ever had anything approximating positive feelings about being bigger than him was ed, who used to say it was cute the way he could wrap himself around all of izzy and then some, and rest his chin atop his head to annoy him out of doing work, and who stopped touching him at all somewhere along the line (they’re working on that, these days)

who has all of this rushing in to bite him squarely in the ass when he finds himself one day dragged away and hefted up into stede bonnet’s toned???? arms away from a barfight, mind suddenly empty and frozen mid-calling someone a cunt, just.

well, ed used to do stuff like this, sometimes, before he fucked his knee. stuff that never failed to get izzy’s blood pumping and them both nearly stabbed with distraction, and stede fucking bonnet, gentleman pirate is quite frankly the last person izzy thought he’d be having this second revelation with this late in life, is all

but. oh. he’s staring up at the ponce, going on about something or other how smashing bottles over people’s heads isn’t a civilized way of solving disputes, and if izzy was thinking clearly he might say that it’s a sight more civilized than gutting them which he might’ve done instead, but is he ever not

because he’s been summarily deposited on the small brick wall outside, and bonnet is looming over him with both hands braced either side of izzy’s hips, and his brain is receiving exactly none of the words stede is sending, cause-

well. apparently he really fucking likes this

#steddyhands #kind of stizzy #a bit of edizzy but mostly in a failmarriage way #stede when he realizes there‘s nothing behind izzy‘s eyes but blown pupils and a gaping void: are you even listening to me izzy??? #izzy: hm #but once he realizes he becomes absolutely unhinged with it #just all broad palm fanned out fingers against the small of izzy‘s back tilting him gently into his grip with warm fingers around his chin #just leaning over him breathing down his neck letting him feel the breadth of his chest against his shoulders type shit #ed misses out on the weird tension for precisely three days before he catches the way stede always steps too close making izzy tilt his head #back up to look at him and thinks to intervene #‘thats nice’ stede says sweating ‘but uh i promise he’s… into it?’ #izzy in the corner is having a religious experience and currently ten astral planes removed judging by how hard he’s blushing #ed goes huh. he lets someone else do that? he likes stede throwing him around? #and is instantly and unreasonably jealous of this but unable to do anything without looking insanse but up the ante #izzy caught in the middle is having an insanely and embarrassingly good time #ofmd fic idea #back at it again (shouting my insane takes into the void)

[garbinge]

Wanderlust

Angel Reyes Post Canon Fic (Mentions of OC Isabeth ‘Izzy’ Flores) From these August Prompts: Wanderlust Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Mayans S5 Full Season/Finale Spoilers!!!!!!!!, mentions of death, blood, loss, angst, bad thoughts, stress, PTSD, just really sad but it does have some hope!

A/N: I… this is a lot and was honestly just flowed out onto the paper and just I have thoughts for more in this post-canon world but for now, this will be a little ode to Angel post series. Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie

It was hard to accept his dreams coming true when it took everything falling apart to get there. It was truthfully even hard to call this a dream when it was just a necessity for a normal and safe life. The peace the beach town of La Paz, Mexico had to offer wasn’t as rewarding as the fight to get here made it seem it would be. For Angel, most of that had to do with the fact that time passed differently now. There was nothing to look forward to anymore now that he was here. There were no visits from grandparents, no visits from uncles, no waking up next to the woman he loved. The goals he once had before were now achieved and alongside of them looking different, he hadn’t had the time or honest want to create new ones. The one thing that kept him going was his son, Maverick. The thought of showing him a world of endless opportunities and making life better solely for him was what let him get out of bed in the morning everyday. On their journey down, he opted to show him where the little boy’s grandparents once lived, where Maverick's mother had grown up, but Angel knew staying in those places would only ultimately leave him in the same cycle. The cycle Angel was on the path to break, because, well, it was his only option now. 

Waking up might have been the hardest part of his day. It was ironic because falling asleep was the best. A moment of uninterrupted time where his thoughts weren’t consumed in his brain. He was shocked he didn’t have nightmares about everything, but his mind saved those for the daytime. When he was awake, he could vividly remember everything, every moment, every sound, every look, every feeling. It was why waking up was the hardest, because everything hit him like a pile of bricks the moment his eyes opened. He saw Felipe everyday. He heard EZ everyday. He searched for Luisa everyday. 

Not literally, ofcourse. The image of his father being rolled out on a coroner’s gurney was embedded into his brain. The sound of EZ’s last breaths, his last wishes of telling Maverick about him and their mother. And finally, his hand reached for Luisa in his bed every morning as some search for comfort but he was left with emptiness. Once Maverick was up that’s when he was able to push everything aside and do simple everyday things for him. He was currently living off the money Luisa had left in the crib before settling into a job. Settling into employment meant finding someone or somewhere to leave Maverick and he just wasn’t ready for that step. Luckily in Mexico, he could make that money stretch. Their place was cheap, Maverick was still sleeping in a crib so the one bedroom house they stayed in was more than doable. Food was no more than $25 a week between the two of them and that was pending if Angel even had the drive to eat a full meal. Maverick was always taken care of, though. He had tons of his favorite food stored in the fridge and freezer and lots of toys. Angel had taken his Pops truck down, loading it up with the broken down crib, stroller, and height chair, a few bags of their clothes, and that was just about it. 

It was early morning, Angel had been awake for a few minutes staring at the ceiling thinking about his brother. The ultimate choice he had to make in stabbing him. Logically he knew there was no out of that situation, but that didn’t stop the ‘what ifs’ from running through his head everyday. The biggest what if that weighed on Angel’s mind was what if he never joined the club. That was what brought them there. Sure, Felipe’s past life had brought violence to them, specifically their mother, but Angel continued it. Maybe if he never joined the club EZ would have gotten out of prison and done something with his life. Again, this was Angel told himself, but he struggled with that just like everything else. If he never joined the club, he never would have met Luisa or had Maverick, EZ probably would have stayed in jail for the full stint with no chance of getting out early. It made Angel think about who EZ was prior to losing their mother, what would have happened if everything was different. If he was a different person, his father was a different person, it ultimately brought him to one thought. Why him? Why was he the only one who got out. That’s usually when the cries of Maverick snapped him out of it as if the universe was giving him the answer. 

As Maverick’s voice cooed right on schedule, Angel was quick to get out of bed and grab him from the crib. Angel chatted with the boy, asking him how he slept, what he was hungry for, what he was in the mood to wear. All of those things took up a good couple hours of the morning between bath time and feeding, for the both of them. 

Now was the time to take on the beach town of La Paz, he and Maverick had been exploring the last few weeks, taking some time on the few different beaches, enjoying the street art and boardwalks, taking in the marinas, finding some local food spots to indulge in, and today was time to hit downtown. 

La Paz was beautiful, the streets were filled with statues, artworks, and markets as you walked along the coast to get downtown where there was just more of everything. Angel had Maverick in his arms as they walked past a bookstore which made him stop and stare into the window. 

“You know your Tío EZ loved to read.” Angel looked over at the boy in his arms. “Your grandpa, my dad, had bookshelves in his shop and would constantly be giving new ones to your Tío, I always told ‘em they smelt like meat and maybe there was somewhere better to keep 'em but they enjoyed it.” Angel nodded his head at the memory. 

“Maybe we can find you some different books, huh?” Angel looked into the bookstore and noticed it was more of a newsstand with biographies, novels, and stories versus children’s books so he began his search for a library. 

Biblioteca Pública para los Niños de La Paz, the words on the secluded building could be seen from a hundred feet away. The building was painted and bright and seemed to be exactly what he was looking for. Maverick was enamored by it, his eyes were glued to the building and his arms extended out to point to it. 

Angel let out a laugh, “Alright, little man. Let's go check it out.” 

As they entered the building it was a lot fancier than he imagined a library to be, there were different sections despite it being majorly a children's library. They had movies, DVDs, novels but when Angel looked to the left he was met with a huge children’s section. There was a big circular room that he assumed was for events, walls and walls of books, almost never ending and somewhere in the middle of that were couches and play sets. In the midst of all of this there was a big circulation desk that was covered in posters and kids toys and flyers where there was an empty desk chair. Angel assumed someone must’ve been on their break or roaming around the library so he walked past it and let Maverick roam around the play sets. 

“Mav, come, look at these.” He called the little boy over to the half shelf of books. Angel sat squatted on the ground at Maverick’s eye level as he pulled books out, there were two that he held onto which Angel assumed they’d be checking out while the others were left on the floor in his path along the shelf. Angel was quick to grab the discarded books and put them back in their proper place as he moved behind his son, making sure that nothing was left out of place. 

“Maybe we can find a book that daddy used to read all the time.” Angel started to look at the next shelf over for the book he remembered Marisol reading to him while Maverick plopped down right next to him as if he was waiting for the book. 

“Buenas tardes, como los puedo ayudar? ” A woman’s voice caused Angel to startle and turn around immediately. He was such a tall individual that looking up to someone wasn’t usual for him. 

“Lo siento,” he let out a chuckle and shook his head as he tried to think straight, “uh, estoy buscando un libro.” He explained in spanish what he was doing. 

“Perdoname,” the woman laughed back, “no quise asustarte.” Her eyes were soft as she apologized. “Sabes el nombre del libro?” 

Angel thought for a minute. “Uh, si, se–se llama,” Angel closed his eyes as he tried to remember the name, “olvidé el nombre, pero se trata del sol y…” He lost it, it’s like any bit of spanish left his brain when he tried to think of the word he was looking for. “Ah, que es,” he thought to himself now feeling fully embarrassed by his lack of fluency. “Come se dice, un reptilio?” He replaced the word he wanted with a similar synonym. 

“A lizard?” The woman spoke her English as clear as day even with her accent. 

Angel let out a sigh of relief. “Yea, the book is about a sun and lizard.” 

“La Lagartija y el Sol.” She nodded, knowing exactly what book he was referring to. 

“Yes!” His eyes lit up. “Sor– Perdoname, si, La Lagartija y el Sol.” He confirmed still stumbling over his words. 

“It’s okay, I speak English.” The girl met Angel at eye level as she squatted down and reached across his face to search for the book. 

“I’m trying to fit in, act like a local.” He let out a nervous chuckle that made her smile. 

“We stick out like sore thumbs.” Her thick accent was littered with humor as she related to him. 

“You’re not local?” Angel asked her out of curiosity. 

“No, I’m from Mexico but not La Paz. I learned English in the States a few years ago.” She wasn’t willing to give up more specifics but Angel wasn’t one to pry either.

“Any advice on how not to stick out and seem like a local?” He laughed as he adjusted himself to stand up. 

“No one cares here, everyone minds their business, it’s why I enjoy living here.” She stopped dragging her finger along the books as she found the one she was looking for and pulled it out by its spine. “La Lagartija y el Sol.” 

“Thank you, I think he’s gonna like this one.” Angel pointed to his son who was sitting on the couch mindlessly going through the few books that he had grabbed himself. 

“It is about perseverance and bravery, two traits you’ll need if you want to try and fit in as a local.” She teased. “The book is bilingual, also. Might help both of you.” 

“Good to know, ironically, my mom used to read me the bilingual version and well, you’ve seen how well that worked out.” He was now standing with the book in his hand. 

“Takes perseverance.” She smirked. “Let me know if you need any more help.” And with that, she was moving back behind the children’s circulation desk. 

Angel stayed with Maverick in between the two shorter shelves where the playsets were, letting the boy enjoy the toys and time out of the house. They picked out a couple DVDs too in addition to the 3 books in his hands, just trying to think of ways to pass the time back at home. About an hour and a half had passed and Angel decided it was time to leave to grab some lunch and maybe head to the marina so he began to approach the childrens desk with Maverick in one arm and the things he planned to check out in the other. 

The same woman came out from the back office and smiled as she situated back in her seat at the computer that was likely from the early 2000s. 

“Do you have a card with us already?” She looked up at him before taking the movies and books off the part of the desk that was raised to be more of an appropriate height for those standing on the opposite side of it. 

“No, I’d have to sign up for one if that’s not a big deal?” His tone had a little apprehension in it. 

“Nope, just need to get some info from you.” She began clicking things on the computer and then asking him questions. “Need a name, address, and some form of ID.” 

Angel froze for a minute, he wasn’t exactly sure what he felt comfortable giving up information wise. He was well aware that this was some random woman at the library and not the cartel or even a police officer but it just felt nerve wracking. 

“Um, do I need to give all that information?” He stood awkwardly as he re-situated Maverick on his side. 

The woman looked up at him and immediately understood. “I can make it work with just a name.” She agreed. “I just need you to promise you’re going to return those items in 3 weeks because if not it’s my paycheck the replacements come out of.” Her face was soft when she spoke. 

“Promise. You can put the card under Angel Reyes.” He leaned over to see what she put into the system. 

After a few minutes she took out a card and scanned it before placing it on the table in front of him. “If you have any trouble just ask for me and I’ll take care of it. I put the address in as my own.” 

Angel was speechless for a minute before he spoke up. “Thanks, I didn’t mean to have to have you–” she cut him off before he finished speaking. 

“It’s okay, I get it.” Her eyes moved to Maverick, who was beginning to fall asleep in Angel’s arms, and then back to Angel’s eyes before grabbing his things to check him out. After scanning all the items and placing them in a bag she moved to go grab something on the other side of the desk. “Also,” she twirled in the chair. “I pulled this for you. I think you and your son would enjoy it.” 

La Frontera: El Viaje con Papá - A Journey with Papa. 

Angel stared at the book for a minute with a smile on his face. 

“You know, I always wanted to travel. I had dreams about it. Going all these different places. I went to some but like I wanted to see things my family saw, see things they didn’t, just have the world at my disposal, right?” He was staring down at the book, holding it in his hand, wiping his tumb across the cover. “But now I just don’t feel that way anymore.” He put the book down on the table and snapped himself out of his thoughts. “Sorry,” his head shook. “I didn’t mean to unload, I don’t get to talk to many people that aren’t above the age of 2.” 

The woman smiled, “You know, sometimes that feeling of wanderlust is your gut telling you that you are not in the right place.” Her shoulders shrugged like what she said didn’t hold a heavy weight to Angel’s ears. There was a moment where he just took in those words before she spoke up again. “Maybe you’re just finally in the right place.” 

She had gone back to doing something, not paying Angel any attention as he slowly put the book in the bag. Maybe it was true, he was in the right place, he had finally escaped all the violence, the stress, the uneasiness, and he could feel free. That still didn’t come without punishment. The thought of feeling free reminded him that his brother, father, and mother died being stuck. The images of his mother on the floor of the shop followed by his father on the gurney and his brother on the floor of the Mayan clubhouse rotted his brain. Repetitive words of the things they said throughout their lifetime haunting Angel. How could he be free when he felt so chained to their memory. 

“Are you okay?” The woman’s voice snapped Angel out of his thoughts. 

“Si, Yes, Gracias, seriously for all your help.” Angel started stepping away now. 

“You are welcome, Angel.” She smiled and went back to her work before looking up when Angel stuttered after wishing her a good day but realizing he had no idea what her name was. 

“Isabeth–Isa.” 

Angel stood there frozen again and repeated her name. “Isa?” The woman’s head nodded and she looked at him confused.

“Is there something wrong with that?” She let out a nervous laugh. 

 “I’m sorry, that was sort of my mom’s name.” He closed his eyes with a smile. 

“Sort of?” She twisted her head and met him with the same smile. 

“Yea, sort of–it’s complicated.” He chuckled back. 

“Well to make it more complicated, you can call me Izzy. That’s what my friends in the states used to call me, I kind of miss it.” 

“How’d you know I was from the states?” He asked curiously, a look that didn’t last long as she gave him a knowing look and tried to hold in her laugh. “Fair enough, Izzy it is.” He nodded and with that he left the library with a feeling of content.

It was nice to finally have a conversation with someone that held some sort of mature value, despite the fact that it brought Angel some of his darkest thoughts, but he would have had those regardless, at least this time he was offered some solace. Maybe he was finally in the right place, maybe this is where Maverick needed to be, where he needed to be. Perhaps it was everyone he lost that guided him to this spot simply because it was the right place. Maybe wanderlust didn’t need to be about huge travel but just roaming around your own space, your mind even, finding one place of peace and calmness where all the bad things weren’t allowed to go. That was what Angel’s next adventure would hold, wanderlust of his mind, a place where all his demons and nightmares weren’t allowed, and just peace and tranquility could be found.

#Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes fic #Angel Reyes x OC #Angel Reyes Fanfic #Angel Reyes Fanfiction #Mayans MC #Mayans FX #Mayans MC Post Canon #Mayans MC Fanfic #Mayans MC Fanfiction

[octoberobserver]

A Crew of Two - OFMD Fic

(Read on ao3 here)

“There. Perfect.”

They eyed the dilapidated shack, their focus homed in on the holey roof, shattered windows and cracked rafters.

“Well,” Stede turned to Ed, smiling small but hopeful. “It’s getting there.”

It had been a long evening of airing out the rooms, cleaning and dusting as best they could with their limited resources. Now nightfall approached, and the terrible stench still lingered but was nowhere near as foul.

“Right,” Stede nodded with determination, clapping his hands. “Dinner?”

Fishing was out of the question—obviously—but thankfully, Roach had not left them completely empty-handed.

“Marmalade,” Ed marvelled as they took a seat on the sand (using one of The Revenge’s old flags as a makeshift blanket) after a quiet walk up the beach, a good distance from their new home, the tide and Izzy’s resting place to build a small campfire.

“And tea,” Stede added, handing over one of the two China teacups he managed to pilfer from the ship. “Seven sugars, just as you like it.”

Something soft passed over Ed’s face at that, his large, dark eyes warming Stede far more than any embers. He could feel his gaze tracing his every movement as he poured the boiling water from where it was suspended in a pot atop the fire.

“We have enough fresh water to last us about three days, I reckon,” he murmured more to himself as he made his tea. “I took only the essentials from the kitchen.”

“Like tea leaves, sugar and marmalade?” Ed asked, munching on the slightly stale bread, his tone teasing.

Stede levelled him with a look.

“They are essentials, Edward.”

Ed chuckled at that, knocking their shoulders together.

“Right you are, mate. Right you are.”

They ate in more-than-companionable silence for several minutes, eyes cast out to the horizon as the moon glimmered in hello.

“We gonna talk about it, then?”

He glanced to his left, where Ed was still steadfastly staring at the ocean. He looked…radiant…the light of the fire reflecting off his face and casting shadows on the sand.

“Talk about what?”

He could be referring to a number of things, really. For all their making up—kisses in chaos, escaping the English, losing Izzy and saying goodbye to the crew—there hadn’t been much time for talking.

Ed seemed to ruminate on all that had transpired the last seventy-two hours, too, until finally, he turned his body to him and caught his eye.

Something uncomfortable unfurled in his gut, Ed’s haunting words from what felt like both years and mere hours ago echoing in his brain.

I think last night was a mistake. I’m not ready for whatever this is.

“If,” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and the ice in his chest. “If we’ve made a mis—”

“You left me. And then I left you. I think we need to talk about why. Properly this time.”

Stede froze, words dying on his lips as he watched a small furrow form between Ed’s eyebrows.

“Wait, what were you saying?” he asked, the furrowing deepening as he fidgeted with the teacup propped in his fingers. “Do you…do you think we made a mistake? Coming here?”

His voice sounded small and impossibly young. Almost as if it was his boyhood self asking and terrified of the answer.

Stede scrambled to put down his own cup, burrowing a little divet in the sand for it to sit into before grabbing Ed’s arm and squeezing.

“No, no, I don’t think we’ve made a mistake at all. I promise. I…I was worried you did. Like we were moving too fast again. Just like you said the morning after we…we…”

Ed copied him, carefully setting his cup down and covering his hand with his, squeezing back.

“No more whims, remember? I’m all in, Stede. For real, this time. This isn’t something I’m just jumping into without thinking. But there are still some things we should clear up.”

Stede nodded, though his stomach still churned, the turn in conversation and misly marmalade enough to make him feel nauseated.

“I left you,” Ed repeated on an exhale, gaze on their linked fingers. “And I’m sorry for that. But what we…the night we spent together, it wasn’t a mistake, Stede. I know I said it was, and I’m sorry for that too. But I was panicking. Because it wasn’t slow, definitely not slow, but I still wanted it. God, I wanted you, Stede. I want you. All the time. And I never want to make you feel like I don’t.”

Air punched out of Stede’s chest at that, heat rising from his abdomen all the way up to burn his cheeks.

“I…I want you too, Ed.”

Ed winked at him, eyes alight with mirth before his face fell into something a little more sombre.

“And I’m still working through everything. What—what happened, and how I acted. I spoke to the crew when you were in the kitchen. Apologised for my behaviour for real. Not the PR corporate bullshit from before.”

“Yeah,” Stede swept a thumb over the back of his hand. “Lucius told me.”

“Of course he did.”

Ed paused for a second, his breath hitching a little as if he were psyching himself up to say whatever it was he wanted to next.

“And I know you left me for Mary, but I can accept now that—”

“I didn’t.”

He felt it in his fingertips as Ed’s entire body tensed.

“What?”

“I didn’t leave you for Mary. Or at least not…not initially.”

Ed stared at his toes buried in the sand for a beat.

“What does that mean? You went back to your family—”

“Yes. I did,” Stede agreed hurriedly. “But the…the guilt was killing me, Ed. I let what Badminton said get to me—”

“Badminton? The sword through the eye guy? Or his dickhead brother?”

He blinked. A revelation washed over him like waves crashing against rocks.

“Oh, God. I-I never did tell you, did I?”

“Tell me what, Stede?”

The events of that night were a searing brand on his brain ever since they happened. He had tortured himself over and over for months, agonising over every single second and what he could and should have done differently. But it was only now occurring to him that he hadn’t actually told Ed, the one person who deserved to hear all of it the most.

“What happened that night…after we…after we kissed on the beach, and you told me to wait for your guy to come get me,” he began, a little shakily.

“And you left me waiting on the pier. All night,” Ed finished, his voice filled with hurt.

“Yes. I did do that,” Stede agreed, staring down at his hands in his lap. “But I never wanted to hurt you, Ed. I-I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m sorry.”

Ed’s frown deepened.

“How was breaking my heart doing the right—”

“He said I brought you to ruin!”

The words shot from him like a bullet from a musket, and before Stede knew it, he was on his feet, pacing back in front of the campfire, the love of his life, and the darkening sky with fervour.

“Badminton kidnapped me. Held me at gunpoint. Roused me from bed and brought me out to the—”

“He did what?!” Ed exclaimed, beginning to stand up, but Stede halted in front of him, preventing it.

“He said I was a monster, a plague, that I defile beautiful things. My family. You. And he…he was right. Or at–at least, I thought he was. So I…left.”

He didn’t realise his eyes were welling up until a tear slid down his cheek. Reaching up, he wiped at it with the back of his hand, staring down into the flickering flames.

“Y-You invoked the Act of Grace for me, Ed. Were prepared to serve under your enemies. You shaved your iconic beard and upended your whole life, your entire legacy for me. You were this renowned, respected pirate, a legend, a-and you gave it all–all—”

A sob broke free from his ribcage as he buried his face in his hands.

Suddenly, Ed was directly in front of him, taking his hands in his, kneeling at his feet and looking up at him with something like reverence etched onto his face.

“Stede,” he murmured, voice impossibly soft. “It’s okay. C’mon, let’s talk it through as a crew. A crew of two. You and me.”

Throat clogged with emotion, Stede forced a nod, even if he couldn’t quite meet his eye.

A strong, warm hand clasped his wrist, and fingers brushed against his pulse point.

“Ed,” he tried to protest. “Edward, your knee—”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Ed cut across him, bringing his other hand up to interlink their fingers. “My knee is fine. Look at me. Please.”

With an almighty effort, he raised his eyes, meeting the large, dark ones he loved so much.

“You know that none of that is true, right? Never was, never will be.”

The sound of the waves was all that met that.

“Stede,” Ed implored, gaze wide and resolute as he shifted on his knees and squeezed his wrist. “It’s not true. Never was, never will be. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re not a monster or a plague. You don’t defile beautiful things, you are beautiful. And you sure as fuck didn’t ruin me. You…you helped me find myself again, maybe for the first time, even. The time I’ve spent with you has been the best I’ve ever felt in my whole entire life. ‘Giving it all up’ for a life with you is the easiest, greatest decision I’ve ever made. Do you understand?”

Still, he couldn’t make a sound.

With a quiet sigh, Ed leaned ever so slightly forward until his forehead came to rest gently against Stede’s stomach.

“Life really did a number on you, didn’t it, babe?”

The words felt as warm and fond as they sounded, pressed against his rumpled shirt.

“L-Life’s a dick,” he finally managed to reply, tangling his fingers in his hair.

“Life is a dick,” Ed agreed, lifting his head and meeting his gaze. “But maybe…maybe with just us, it won’t be anymore?”

Stede brushed some hairs off Ed’s face, his heart already lighter.

“I would like that.”

Ed’s smile was as bright as the moonlight as he let his eyes close, seeming to enjoy the sensation of Stede’s hand in his hair. After a beat, he cleared his throat, his eyes blinking back open.

“So what happened then? How did you get away from Badminton?”

Stede’s stomach twisted as the garish memory flashed in his mind’s eye.

“He tripped. Fell. Shot himself in the head.”

Ed let out a slow breath.

“Holy shit…impaled through the eye, shot in the head...clumsy family, those Badmintons.”

“Yep.”

They stared at one another, deep and unwavering.

“I’m still sorry for letting it all get to me,” Stede mumbled, the guilt loosening in his chest with every syllable. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone on the pier. And I’m sorry it took me going back to my old life to realise just what I had with you. I-I didn’t even know I was in love with you until my ex-wife, of all people, explained what love feels like. That’s…that’s when I knew I had to find my way back to you, Ed. Because you’re it for me. I know that now. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Ed’s eyes had a glisten to them now. Shining like the stars.

“Stede…” he swallowed, his hands shaking. “I…I…”

“I know.”

A broken noise wrenched from his throat as a little gust of wind billowed along the beach, causing him to shiver, though Stede wasn’t sure if it was entirely caused by just the drop in temperature—the slight tug he had just given to his hair may have helped too.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to his forehead, murmuring, “Think it’s time we go home, love. I don’t want you to catch a cold. Let’s get you warmed up.”

Suddenly, with the speed of a man half his age, Ed was on his feet, grabbing him by the back of the head and crashing their mouths together in a feverish kiss. They stumbled with the sheer force of it, tumbling to the ground, Stede landing on his back and Ed on top of him, barely pausing for breath.

“I love you so much,” he muttered into his skin as he nipped along his jaw and down his neck. “Stede, you’ve no idea…no idea how much I…”

Stede groaned as Ed ground down against him, the feeling of his cock taking an interest in the proceedings evident through his ridiculous, sexy leather.

“I have a-an idea,” Stede half laughed, half whined at his ministrations, his deft fingers making quick work of his trousers, slipping them ever-so-slightly down, cupping a handful of his cheek and squeezing.

“Maybe an idea,” Ed conceded, nipping his earlobe as he trailed his hand along his skin, ghosting his fingers over the line of hair below his belly button, “but let me show you just how much anyway.”

With that, he reached down lower to grasp his cock, pumping him once, twice. Stede hissed, a bolt of arousal shooting through him, practically feeling all his blood flooding south.

“Hmm,” Ed mumbled almost to himself. “Too dry.”

Before another word could be uttered, he reached into a pocket with his free hand and produced a small vial of oil.

Stede just about managed to raise an eyebrow.

“What?” Ed asked, all faux-innocent. “You weren’t the only one who raided the kitchen for 'essentials.' I just had…other things on my mind than food.”

And wow, wasn’t Stede grateful for that.

“Can't do everything I'd like to now, fuckin’ sand gets everywhere, trust me,” Ed growled before clutching his hip and manoeuvring them back up onto the flag to continue his blissful torture. "But let's start here."

Stede spared exactly one second thinking about flag desecration until Ed did that wonderful thing with his wrist, and he stopped being able to think altogether.

“You…you,” he gasped as a now-slick, large, warm hand gripped him tight. “You too.”

He made an attempt to reach for Ed’s trousers but got distracted when Ed’s thumb swept over the head of his cock, rubbing at the beads of fluid there and causing his hips to buck as if struck by lightning.

“F-Fuck,” a high-pitched whine wrenched from him.

“That’s the idea, mate,” Ed chuckled as he rucked up his shirt and kissed down his chest, tongue lapping at his nipples, swirling and sucking with reckless abandon.

Stede flung his head back, it connecting with a loud thump into the sand as he stared up into the twinkling night sky.

“Y-Yes, Ed. S-So good.”

Ed seemed to preen at that, pleased as punch, his hands now working on pulling his trousers completely off, to limited success as in his excitement, he seemed to want to do just about everything all at once. His tongue continued mapping a route down Stede’s body, edging closer and closer to where he ached for it, but it never reached its destination as Stede hooked his leg over his hip and flipped them with an agility that frankly shocked them both.

“Oof!”

A winded gasp escaped Ed, but before he could catch his breath, Stede hovered above him, drinking in the absolutely enthralling picture he made, all flushed and windswept and wide-eyed.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun…mate,” he teased, capturing his lips again, tracing his tongue along his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth.

As he licked behind Ed’s teeth, his hand fumbled to pick up the dropped vial of oil from the sand, popping the cork as he took a seat in his lap. He could feel Ed’s erection trapped beneath him, hard and hot, as he ground down—flesh meeting leather. It made him feel bold. Brave. Confident in a way he never thought he could be. Here he had Ed Blackbeard Teach at his mercy in the best way, in a way they both wanted, both took pleasure in, and it felt…life-changing.

Dragging his mouth away from Ed’s with herculean effort, he helped him take off his again, very sexy, but again, very ridiculous trousers, haphazardly dragging them down his calves one-handed. Chuckling at the not-so-simple feat, he set about sloppily coating his fingers with the oil, fumbling more than once. He grinned at Ed’s whimper of impatience before letting the vial drop and finally getting his fingers wrapped around him, gripping him tightly and bucking up against him so their slick, flushed cocks slid together.

“S-Shit, Stede.”

This wasn’t like their first time, which was fraught with we-nearly-died-and-I-just-killed-someone energy. This wasn’t fireworks exploding, a desperate culmination of yearning, aching for one another, a frenzied, unpracticed exploration of two emotionally fragile people after a traumatic event. This wasn’t opening night, this was…the encore. Less frayed with raw, mixed emotions and more like being welcomed home after a long journey away. But still as exhilarating. And just as with last time, it had more than a sprinkling of unabashed horniness and a frankly disgusting amount of love too.

“Fuck, f-fuck,” Ed moaned as Stede’s fist gripped them both, pumping them fast and rough, his stomach swooping as strong hands clasped his hips, rocking him back and forth.

“T-That’s the idea,” he parroted back, though it lost its cheeky edge with breathlessness.

He wasn’t going to last long. He could already feel the telltale sign of his impending orgasm building within him. Ed had that effect on him, like an overexcited teenager bursting with unbridled lust at the slightest provocation.

He bit his lip as he felt thumbs dig into his tailbone, ghosting over the dimples there, helping them grind harder together.

“Y-Yes, Stede, faster…tighter…” Ed’s little tufts of breath floated into the air as his back arched, meeting his thrusts, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Pleased at his response, Stede happily did as he was told, speeding up and tightening his grip, brushing his thumb over the head of his leaking cock and causing Ed to cry out, his legs beginning to shake.

“You…you were waiting for me,” he gasped almost to himself, looking up at him with something a lot like awe. “You were squeezing my hand when I came back to the land of the living.”

Stede reached down with his free hand and clutched his fingers now for good measure, pressing them into the sand.

“You were squeezing back,” he reminded him.

“I-I was,” Ed agreed, his whole body tensing up, his breaths shallow and fast. “I…I was reaching out for y—fuck, fuck, Stede!”

A sharp heat sparked in Stede’s gut as Ed’s release coated his fingers and cock, his whole body taut like a bowstring at the illicit sight, so close to his own climax he could practically taste it.

As if sensing this, though still dazed and likely oversensitive, Ed took exactly one deep breath before he reached up and closed his fist around Stede’s, helping him reach his peak with frantic, jerking movements until his own orgasm washed through him like a tidal wave mere moments later.

“Oh, g-god, Ed,” a broken whine ripped from his throat as he collapsed like a marionette with cut strings on top of him, wincing a little at the rapidly drying wetness between them.

They both fought to catch their breaths beside the dying campfire, smoldering embers casting a dim glow about them.

“Well,” Stede grinned, meeting Ed’s eye. “That was a pleasant surprise.”

“There’s more where that came from,” Ed winked, taking the vial from him and holding it like his greatest treasure as another shiver ran through him.

“Come here,” Stede rearranged them side by side, Ed’s back to the fire, pulling him into his chest. “I’ll warm you up.”

A wounded sound broke from Ed as he huddled into him, muttering something into his collarbone.

Stede tilted his head.

“Come again?”

“Give me a minute, mate, I’m not fifteen anymore.”

He let out a snort of laughter, placing a kiss in his hair.

“No, silly, I meant, what did you say? I missed it.”

“Oh.”

Ed buried his face deeper into his neck, hot breath bouncing off his skin and making him squirm in the best way. He seemed to think over what he wanted to say, and Stede waited patiently until…

“You reminded me of something Hornigold said in the gravy basket.”

Stede tensed a little, the memory of the man he loved lying dead in front of him still haunting.

“He asked me what I liked most about living.”

Stede blinked, not expecting that.

“Oh? And what did you say.”

Ed shifted again, his face still hidden but his voice strong.

“Warmth. Good food. Orgasms.”

Stede let that sink in, seeing their merit.

“Solid choices.”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, planting a kiss on his neck. “And you just provided all three.”

Something gooey pooled into Stede’s stomach, a pleased smile spreading across his face.

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”

That caused Ed to look up, lifting his head to meet his gaze, eyes serious and warm.

“You’re not ‘serving’ me, Stede. You’re…my equal. We’re partners. You’re…you’re my…”

“Co-Captain?”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, nodding with determination. “Co-Captain. Of our Inn. And…and of our lives.”

Stede’s heart skipped a beat. Our lives. It sounded so…right.

“Co-Captains. A crew of two. I love that.”

“Me too.”

They sealed it with a kiss, chaste and sweet, more a pressing of smiles than anything.

“Come on,” Stede urged, still clutching Ed’s hand. “Let's get you inside so I can warm you up all over again.”

That same soft something tinged Ed’s face as he squeezed his hand back.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

#our flag means death #ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #my fanfiction #post season 2

[the-late-one]

It's one of those days where Blackbeard is nowhere to be seen on board. He is probably hiding away from his crew in some corner of the ship Izzy hasn't discovered yet.

One of those slow days, long days, lost in the middle of the sea, like a lot a lot of other days lately.

Maybe it's the entire ships that are hiding in the end.

Izzy wanders around, searching for distraction, waiting for an order, ending up in the empty cabin of his captain.

His eyes lingers across the dark place, stepping in a large circle licking the walls. Half empty, the cabin is even more ridiculously big.

As his hands brushed the last furnitures that didn't took a swim in the ocean, Izzy stops by the harpsichord.

He rest his ungloved fingers on the tiles, not pressing, only feeling the precious ivory under his skin.

He looks behind him in a hurried turn of his head, waiting to find someone behind, but he was alone.

Tentatively, Izzy pressed on the keys under his middle finger, almost startled when a note escapes the top of the instrument. 

The almost empty room echoes the sound way loudly that he was expecting, but after a moment of silence, he continues.

Fingertips dancing across the tiles, Izzy lets himself being guided by the memory of a slow melody he once knew by heart.

To his surprise, he still is capable to play, not as fluently as he wishes, but the melancholic song is easily recognisable.

Getting lost in the unique acoustic of the room, Izzy can't hear what's coming behind him.

"You got lost ?"

Izzy jumps away from the harpsichord, turning to his captain. Again, Izzy has no idea where he comes from, or how he got there without a noise.

"Sorry sir."

Blackbeard wave his hand to him, walking slowly towards him. "No no. Please, keep playing." He almost looks sorry to have disturbed his first hand.

Without a word, Izzy carefully sits down to play again, properly. The melody comes back in the cabin and Izzy can feel Blackbeard approaching. 

"It's been a while since I've heard that." Blackbeard mumbles, stopping next to Izzy.

Izzy, who can't help a little smile from curling the corner of his lips. "You remember ?"

"Of course I remember." and the captain bend over the instrument to add his hand to the dance of Izzy’s.

The sudden proximity is burning Izzy’s side. It's something he hasn't felt since this morning where Blackbeard generously fed him his own toe.

Only when his captain speaks again, Izzy glances at him to see him face relaxed, a grin shyly stretching his darkened mouth.

"You learned me this one."

The burn on the side of Izzy’s body moved inside his chest. "And now you know how to play it better than me." He answered.

Blackbeard’s hand is, indeed, flying over the keys, adding lower notes to the now sounding better song.

"It was so long ago…" Blackbeard frowns "We were waiting for Hornigold to go down into town, to sneak in his cabin and find his piano." 

"Everytime."

"Hey remember when Jack was with us, and we were trying to find which song was gonna make him tear up the fastest ?"

Izzy lets his smile shine at the memory, shaking his head. His captain mimes him "He was so fucking sensitive !"

For a brief moment, for a second or maybe a few more, and in a way Izzy never thought he would ever feel, Edward is standing next to him. All smiling, laughing, eyes shining in the dime light, body moving to the dance of his hand on the harpsichord. 

It feels good. Like home. A familiarity long gone that is crawling back. 

"It was another time." Izzy says, and he knows he shouldn’t have.

Because next to him, Edward close his face again. "Yeah…"

And it's brutal. The way the gloved hand smash the keys suddenly, violently, and Blackbeard walk away from the harpsichord.

 "Enough of that !" He barks, and Izzy is ready to stand up but "Can't you play something more… I don’t know, joyful ? Light ?"

Izzy nods for himself, searching in his brain fir something adequate. He places his hands on the ivory and eben again, and plays.

After a few seconds, his captain closes his eyes and take a deep breath before turning to the only uncovered window.

"Yeah. Perfect."

Minutes passes, the harpsichord echoing against the wood. That until Blackbeard speaks again.

"Sounds like a flower field in the wind." He says, and Izzy is silently amazed by the way Blackbeard can "see" the music.

"Have you ever seen lavender fields Izzy ?"

This is not a real question, so Izzy doesn't answer, even if he could say "yes" to try to connect to his captain’s brain. The "no" would have sound like licking his boots.

"It's beautiful." Blackbeard continues, staring at the sea, "From afar, it looks like a giant monster scratched the earth with its giant claws, like a jaguar or some shit. Except the flesh inside the scars are purple-ish, or blue. And it smells fuckin' amazing."

The song comes to an end. Izzy hits the last note and look at his captain, still standing for once in the light, lost in his thoughts catched in the waves.

He's about to speak when- "Get back to work Izzy."

The words weirdly stings. Izzy reminds himself where he is, and with who, and that the growl he just heard can escalate so fast into something else that he better leave the cabin. The heat in his chest is still burning with a familiar pain, but its color have changed, and fog threats him to drown his brain.

And if he sees Blackbeard sweeping a tear with black leathered fingers, he doesn't want to think about it.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fanfiction #edward teach #blackbeard #the kraken #izzy hands #this one is for the Izzy lovers #and the others

[napneeders]

so I asked for smut prompts, @brigdh provided "burning up", my brain took a sharp turn to less smut and more angst. (probably M rated. ~900 words.) based on The Little Match Girl by H. C. Andersen. (a few sentences are lifted from the translation by Jean Hersholt.) I may or may not edit this more at some point; constructive criticism is welcome.

It was so terribly cold. A biting sleet bombarded the streets, the last stragglers hurrying home few and far between. Izzy hunched his shoulders against the rain, though little did it do to keep him from getting damp to the bone, drowned in an ice bucket like a weak kitten.

He couldn't remember why he was here, on land, in this shithole town that his brain screeched at him not to recognize. It was New Year's Eve. The streets were empty and dark, only lit here and there by the spill of light from a window; houses filled with families warm and merry and sated from a meal as extravagant as each could afford.

There was no going home for Izzy; if there was a home, it would be cold and miserable, his father drunk, his mother taken to bed by midday. But that was far in the past, anyway.

All he had managed to steal from rich people's pockets all day were a few pennies, a book of matches, and the cruel fleeting sensation of soft fur lining tearing at his frost-bitten hands. The pennies were long gone, and so was the brief respite from hunger a bowl of soup had lent him.

From the side of an imposing stone house, a narrow awning stuck out. Against his better judgement Izzy slowed his steps. He would rest under it for just a moment. Give his face a reprieve from the biting rain before going on. He squatted under the awning amid a few forgotten tools, the space not high enough to stand, the ground not dry enough to sit. He wasn't wearing leather – but why had he thought he should be?

Digging his hands into his pockets for a modicum of warmth, he found himself fingering the matchbook. He should hold onto it; goodness knew he would need to light many a fire yet if he was to survive in this cold unforgiving world. But perhaps he could light just one match to warm his hands. It was so cold.

He took out the little flat package and looked inside. A few matches were gone; many more remained. Izzy struck one against the cold wall and cupped his palms around it. It burned like a little candle, but what a strange light it gave! It felt almost as if he was curled up in front of a fire, a plush blanket wrapped over his shoulders, perhaps spread there by caring hands. Red and yellow tongues of flame leapt and licked at each other, warmth engulfed him, filled him up inside –

But just then the match turned black and bit his fingers, and the fireplace disappeared. He was back in the cold, wet, freezing night.

He would light just one more. The match stuttered into a bright flame, and he could see, as if through a glass window, into a room bathed in the gentle orange of innumerable candles, crowding the surfaces of entire tables, wax melting together at the base and dripping to the floor. The dancing light glimmered on the gold embroidery of a translucent curtain, drawn in front of an alcove; two shadows moved behind the veil, fluid and entwined, as if embracing – 

The flame died. Just once more he would trade security for the fleeting comfort of – but he could not name it; he struck another match. In the wavering light he saw a man, as if from above, languishing in satin sheets, beautiful in such a way that made the soul ache. His eyes were shut, dark lashes quivering against his cheeks, mouth parted to sigh, and long black hair fell around him like a halo. Izzy would be a strand in his hair, a molecule in the flame. A red robe fell open; the man threw back his head –

Quickly and without thought, Izzy's stiff fingers fumbled for the next match, willing the image not to disappear. But he saw another man now, golden-haired and kind-eyed, mouthing words that Izzy couldn't hear. The image was so warm and close that it was almost as if he was right there, and as the man reached out his hand, Izzy extended his own –

Match after match he lit, driven by yearning and chased by shame; and before his eyes fingers twined together, gentle hands touched skin, mouths sought each other in passion; the tiny flames fizzled in and out; the two men touched each other without a shred of clothing or shame between them, melting golden in the firelight. Izzy would be a shadow on the wall, a pattern in the silk, a whisper of air to be near them. With each fleeting image he burned higher; with each crackle of sulphur he set ablaze another strand tethering him to the world.

But the little matchbook was getting damp, the fire harder to coax out. In a final desperation he tore off the last handful of matches, and struck them all at once. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than daylight. The two men grew resplendent, tangled in each other, he could see them clearly now in their bed behind the gold-trimmed veil; and he was in their mingled breath and in their shared release of tension, in the flexing of muscles against each other, and he was warm and dry and at peace.

But under the narrow awning, fallen to his side, lay the body of an unremarkable ageing man, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year.

*

*

aaaaand it's up to you whether he dies alone in a miserable little bed somewhere or whether this is a fever dream while Ed and Stede dab at his forehead with a cold rag.

#my writing #my fics #izzy hands #steddyhands #sort of #rogue intertextuality #fairytales #atypical to me i'm letting a lot of repetition slide. in my defense the original uses the words warm and light &c abt a thousand times too

[irregulrs]

˙ ◌ ⁎˚ 〇﹒﹙johnny suh. cismale. he/him.﹚guess who was almost late for their shift at the vesper lounge again?? that’s right, it was baek eunwoo! it’s a wonder their job as owner of vesper lounge isn’t in jeopardy. the 26 year old has been working at sunset galleria for 3 ½ years, and is well known for their generous nature. on bad days, they can be rather self-critical, though. when the mall is dead at night, they can usually be found browsing vinyls at wangto records, but don’t tell their boss!﹙izzy, 28, she/her, gmt+2, none.﹚

hello meow meows ♡ you can call me izzy, i'm 28 (come on hags), operate on gmt+2 and i'm bringing u my cool chaos boy eunwoo (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ under the cut you can find some links, a summary of eunwoo and whatever random thoughts & tidbits about him are flying around in my head. i can't wait to write with you all !

click here for eunwoo's full profile

click here for eunwoo's full biography (it's a bit lengthy lmfao sorry)

pinterest board for all my visual besties out there

baek eunwoo, 26 turning 27, make some noise for scorpio babies!

daegu born & raised, owner of the vesper lounge

his parents poured all their savings into opening a family restaurant called two moons, it was their lifelong dream to have an establishment of their own

you know the food is dope when there’s a random child sleeping in the corner or playing mobile games at full volume? that was eunwoo lmao

he never quite understood why his parents were so strict with his older brother jinwoo regarding his education WELL 🤡

turns out there was only ever enough money to punch one kid thru medical school and of course it has to be the eldest son duh

meanwhile eunwoo got to have a pretty chill school time? noraebag after school with friends is x100 better than hakwon anyways

it was a little too late when he realized that he only got to play and have fun bc his parents had no intention of sending him to university

surprise! you get to help at the family restaurant awww congrats king <3

he….really wanted to help his parents. he wanted for their dream to be successful. but not like this bruh 😭

he really struggled with accepting the fact that he was gonna rot away living someone else’s dream once his parents retire and leave the restaurant in his hands but ??? they are his parents ??? he couldn't say no rip

life comes at u fast and eunwoo realizes that when his parents pass away in a car accident and the care of the restaurant falls into his hands much, much earlier than he expected

well....... he cashes out his part of the house & land he inherited, sells the restaurant (his parents in heaven: say sike rn?!) and moves to a different part of daegu 🤣👍 talk about burning bridges that's that dawg scorpio in him

by now his brother is in seoul busy being a big shot anyway ugh so when eunwoo stumbles over the empty storefront in galleria sunset he pours his savings from the sales he made into opening the vesper lounge, finally something of his own awww look at him 🤕

truth be told he can't really tell if this is actually his dream or if he's just done this to be Doing Something but it's too late to make something different of life at this point right??? (he really needs someone to tell him that it isn't too late pleek)

i've got a bunch of plots right here but i'm always down to plot and brain storm!!

i love making my muses suffer a little lol and i love coming up with dynamics and past backgrounds to intertwine our muses so!!! i hope we can come up with something cool together hehe i'm excited (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

oh and if you find tumblr ims as obnoxious as me we can plot over discord ofc <3

#sunsetintro #alla prima.

[dragonmuse]

could i ask for a little scene with izzy and sweeney? i just want to see local cat dad handling his little bastard son

(you absolutely can. There was an anon ask several days ago asking for a kitten update so hopefully they also see this! This does have a good dose of Lucius as well) 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to encourage that.” Lucius said with a very heavy dose of skepticism. 

“Encourage what?” Izzy looked up from his e-reader. 

“The cat is attempting to devour you.” 

“You’re supposed to play with them, read a whole thing.”  The hand not holding the e-reader was folded around Sweeney, who was doing his utmost to bite and claw at the offending fingers. Being that he wasn’t much bigger than Izzy’s fist, it wasn’t particularly threatening. 

“Yeah, like with a lasar pointer or a fake mouse or something,” Lucius sat down on his other side. “You’re just teaching him it’s ok to maul you.” 

Izzy looked at him with his eyebrows up for a moment. “Yeah, well. Already trained one beast to do that, what’s two?” 

“You-- fuck,” Lucius laughed, sprawling out bonelessly. “Who trained who, goblin? Anyway, I listen to safewords. Sweeney most certainly will not.” 

Izzy lifted his hand away from the cat’s grasp. Tiny paws continued to attempt to bring down the enemy. He snapped his fingers. Sweeney froze. 

“No more,” Izzy told him. 

“You can’t train cats,” Lucius frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s a whole running joke.” 

“Why not? Smart enough to learn. Food motivated. It’s not perfect,” he slid his hand back down, flat now and let Sweeney give him a sniff. Then he offered a scritch and the purring started.  “But it works.” 

“I cannot believe you trained a cat. I mean I can, actually. Of course you did. What else does he know?” 

“How to use the litter box. That’s it. His brain is the size of a walnut, he’s not going to roll over or get the newspaper.” 

“He’s insulting your intelligence,” Lucius informed Sweeney. The kitten purred louder, rubbing his cheek against Izzy’s thumb. 

“Gotta know your allies assets,” Izzy shrugged. “He’s a fighter, not a thinker.” 

“You know that if you train him to attack people, literally the only people that will suffer are you and me. Mostly me.” 

“Still bitter about that bite?” 

“He’s got razor teeth, I’m practically still bleeding.” 

“Just gotta come at him low,” Izzy advised. “Whatever the fuck happened to him before, he doesn’t trust a hand from above.” 

“Hmm,” Lucius hummed. “If you say so.”

They had dinner, made a lot of noise in the bedroom and then fell asleep. Or at least Izzy did. He stirred awake in the middle of the night to the sound of Lucius talking softly. The bed was empty, so he rolled out and walked cautiously into the living room. The lights were still off and there was no familiar body resting on the couch or perched at the barstools in the kitchen. 

Izzy stayed still, letting his eyes adjust and then he could make out a lump on the floor. Lucius was on his stomach, one hand under his chin as a cusion. Sweeney was sniffing his face in clear bewilderment. 

“-so if you and I could make peace that’d be cool,” Lucius was saying so quietly that his breath probably wasn’t stirring Sweeney’s fur. “I get it. You’ve had a tough life. Things were rough out there. Got in a couple of fights, ate a few bad meals, but you’ve got it good now, ok? That man is going to feed you scientifically proven healthy food and play with you the exact recommended amount of time every day. You’ll get brushed and get your nails done more often than a pampered trophy wife. He’s going to love you with every piece of his heart. He doesn’t know how to do it any other way.” 

Izzy was barely breathing, the words so softly creasing the air that the whole thing was dreamlike. He watched as Lucius moved molasses-slow to give Sweeney his fingers, the same way Izzy did, just a little crooked. The kitten regarded them for a long swollen moment, then gently butted against them. 

“See?” Lucius whispered, the pleasure ringing through even in the quiet. “You can have more than one friend. You need a nickname though. Sweeney is a mouthful. What about Sweetie? Huh? Are you a little sweetie?” 

The rumble of a small purr underscored the continued praise and Izzy shuffled very slowly back into the bedroom. Lucius’ hearing wasn’t as alert as his own and in his bare feet, Izzy could be nearly silent. He got back into bed, laying his head down. When Lucius finally got back into bed, Izzy reached for him, feigning a sleepy stirring. 

Lucius didn’t question it, just shuffled in closer. A few minutes later, there was a soft shift in the blankets. Sweeney curling up at the foot of the bed and purring them all back to sleep.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #goblin king and the pup #attend the tail of sweeney todd #izzy hands #lucius black

[blazenfire223]

This is Eniera Hands. I saw a tweet theory a long while ago now of how Izzy might have had a spouse or something that died and my brain when feral over it and created this. That single tweet started my obsession with Izzy Hands. I hope to be able to draw then again because I really do like Eniera and I've come up with little story based things for them and written some stuff down. I really do love them and the thought of Izzy once being genuinely happy with someone only for it to be taken away from him and leaving nothing but an empty shell of grief and depression that gets turned into an angry weapon obsessed and in love with Blackbeard makes my heart ache in the best way. There are some things I may change here because I've been in the fandom for a bit by now but I still like the idea that he got his ring from a past spouse.

(ID: 1. A character spread of Izzy and Enira Hands.

Eniera Hands has dark skin, long curly brown hair that's in corn rows and then tied back in a half-up half-down style, dark blue vest with a cream colored shirt underneath, dark grayish-brown pants, and dark brown boots. They have a gun belt wrapped around their waist and a brown carry bag wrapped around their shoulder. They have a 'x' tattoo on their right cheek that matches Izzy's and a golden wedding band with a simple magenta stone adorned on it. Eniera uses They/She/He pronouns

There is a practice doodle of Izzy in the top left corner, a crying chibi Izzy below it, a doodle of Izzy being grabbed by the face and pulled in to be kissed by Eniera, and a doodle of Young Izzy and Eniera having their first kiss, they are 15 and Eniera's hair is much shorter and choppy.

2. Close up of Eniera grabbing Izzy's face and kissing him.

3. Close up of a chibi doodle of Eniera and Izzy in their pirate age.

4. A young Eniera and Izzy's first kiss.

5. A close up of a full body doodle of Eniera Hands in his pirate fit. /end ID)

#ofmd #izzy hands #ofmd au #ofmd fanart #izzy hands x oc #ofmd art stuffs #image description in undercut #image description in alt #blazenfire223's art #blazenfire223 #eneira hands

[corysmiles]

A Tiny Reunion

Our Flag Means Death

Notes: I know this is not my usual mcyt g/t content but I just finished our flag means death and now I crave g/t content of it so here you go. Also if you don’t know this is a g/t fic so there are tiny people involved

CW: language

(Spoilers for our flag means death finale)

It was almost a year later when Ed heard Bonnet’s name again. He’d forbidden it on the ship, threatening anyone who dared to utter the bastard’s name. After his first few weeks of suffering, he was able to pull himself together enough to become himself again- to become fierce again. The few of Bonnet’s old crew who remained had taken his new style of leadership poorly, but Izzy helped enforce his rule. Any sign of Bonnet was thrown overboard and with it any utterance of the past captain’s name. It hurt too much to talk about him anyway.

Ed was in his cabin drinking bottle after bottle of sour wine when shouting from the deck drew his attention. He rubbed his face and glanced at the black ink now covering the back of his hand. While it did make him look scarier (in his opinion) the makeup might have been a bit overkill. If he wanted he could redo the ink and wait to see if the crew could solve the problem themselves. Izzy could probably handle it and give him a little bit of a break.

However, he never was that lucky.

“Captain!” His door flew open, “Uh-Kraken sir, we need you on deck.”

Ed tilted his head towards the open door and let his eyes sweep over the shaking man in front of him, “Can’t you deal with it yourselves?”

“Uh well-” Frenchie paused as more shouting echoed throughout the room.

“God damn it,” Ed shot up, “You’re all useless.”

He grunted and slammed his half-empty bottle down on the desk. They’d already gone through one skirmish, and it wasn’t even noon so he wasn’t too keen on another fight. As fearsome as the Kraken was he was getting up in age and the frankly uncalled for shattering of his heart wasn’t any help. As he threw on his coat he shoved Frenchie out of the way, only beaming a bit at the sound of the breath leaving his chest.

When he stomped up to the deck he expected to see massive British ships or perhaps a hole causing the ship to sink. What he didn’t expect to see was a dingy little trade vessel, barely staying upright in the waves. Red peeling paint covered some of the hull giving it the impression that the ship itself was bleeding out, and its masts looked like they were about to come apart at the seam.

“You called me up for this?” Ed growled back at Frenchie, “Couldn’t you have dealt with this yourselves?”

“No its-”

Frenchie couldn’t finish before a loud shout came from the front of the ship. Ed turned his head towards where all the crew was gathered and standing there with the most expression he’d ever seen on their face was Jim. Half of their body was hanging over the side as the rest of the crew tried to wrestle them back overboard.

“Olu!”

Ed glanced at the shop only to see a similar situation on the other deck. Immediately his heart froze at the sight of Bonnet’s old crew. Oluwande grinned at Jim and the happiness in his eyes made Ed want to rip them out of his skull. He couldn’t believe they weren’t dead. The living memories of Bonnet stood right in front of him even after he’d abandoned them. 

“Ready the cannons!” The words left his mouth before he could even stop to think.

The stunned faces of his crew made the rage building in his stomach grow even hotter. He was the Kraken, how dare they disobey.

“You heard me!” he bellowed, “Ready the bloody cannons!”

“But they’ve raised a white flag,” Fang retorted.

Ed marched over and slammed his foot down, his hand going to Fang’s neck, “Does it look like I fucking care?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jim hissed as they drew their blade. A more stable Ed would have had the brain to not mess with Jim, but with the red that covered his sight he simply matched their stance- drawing his sword. He would not allow his crew to disobey him now.

“Captain, get a hold of yourself,” Izzy's gravelly voice grabbed his attention, “They're sending a dinghy over. Would you like me to shoot them?”

Ed froze and turned his attention back down to the waves below where surely enough a small row boat was drifting next to the ship. Sitting in the two flimsy seats were Buttons and Oluwande.

“You will not shoot them,” Jim argued, but Ed was hardly paying attention. 

Behind him he heard Izzy and Jim go back and forth and the dull sound of a cocking gun, but his eyes were glued to Oluwande. Every time the man’s arms pushed the oars forward a small glimpse of something shiny and red laying in his pocket caught the light of the sun. Ed had thrown it away months before…but it was almost unmistakably his kerchief. 

“-you. Captain!” 

The sound of Izzy’s raised voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he turned back to look at his first mate. His gun was ready and his finger laid on the trigger. In any other situation Edward would have been fine with watching him shoot the two fools that were trying to board his ship, but the sight of the red linen was burnt into his mind like a brand.

“No,” he paused, unsure of his own voice, “Let them come up. You can kill them after.”

Izzy’s face hardened like he wanted to argue, but thankfully his gun returned to his hip. After their first few arguments he’d gotten better about listening to what Ed had to say.

Ed leaned over the rail and watched as the measly little dinghy floated to their ship. The Kraken part of him wanted to change his mind and just let Izzy shoot them, but the Edward part of him was intrigued. 

He didn’t move a muscle as the crew frantically threw down runged ladders so the two pirates could board. Jim especially was at the head of the efforts, holding the ladder down for the men. 

“Thank you captain,” Frenchie said tilting his head away.

“For what?” Ed humphed, “Taking a breather before I kill them?”

Frenchie cringed at his words, pulling even farther into himself. For a split second his face contorted like he wanted to stand up for his old crew before any fight died on his lips. It wouldn’t matter anyway, whatever the Kraken said went onboard the Revenge.

“Olu!” 

Ed turned towards the commotion to see that one of the men had made it up. His arms wrapped around Jim like he was afraid they’d disappear if he let go. An uncommon smile grew on Jim’s lips moments before Olu planted a kiss on their forehead. And as Ed stared, he felt the phantom memory of soft lips on his own. 

A few moments later the rest of his crew dragged Buttons onto the deck, and awaited Ed’s word. However, as their eyes fell upon him he felt his throat go dry. He’d worked so hard to remove all memories of Stede from the ship only for his old crew to return. It was hard enough even having two of Stede’s old crew mates on board no matter how helpful they were.

“Why are you here?” Ed started, trying to put on his scariest face possible.

“We need to talk to you,” Olu said as he pulled away from Jim, “Something happened and we thought-”

Before he could step forward Izzy had a knife at his neck, “Not one step on this ship without permission from the captain.”

“Let him continue,” Ed shrugged, “I want to hear why you came before I kill you.”

A visible shudder ran through Olu’s body before he reached into his pocket to grab the handkerchief. The sight of the glistening red made Ed feel sick, and the Kraken inside of him wanted to tear the man in front of him to pieces for laying his hands on it.

“Where the fuck- give me that,” he reached forward but Olu quickly jumped back.

Ed tried once more, but again wasn’t able to grab it, “Hey you-”

“No no, you can have it just-” Olu swallowed nervously, “Can we please talk first…privately.”

Izzy jolted forward, but Ed stopped him with a raised hand. He wouldn’t lie, he was curious about whatever plan Olu had, and he also wasn’t too fond of actually hurting them either. After killing Lucius he didn’t know if he had it in him to hurt anyone else connected to Stede.

“Follow me,” Ed huffed, “But don’t plan on pulling any shit.”

“I dont think I could,” Olu said as he continued to hold the fucking handkerchief to his chest.

Ed considered him for a moment before nodding for the man to follow him. Jim gave him a hard look as he passed, but he kept his head straight. If he couldn’t be the Kraken he could at least be a stable captain. And as much as Jim’s abilities frightened him he wouldn’t let them know that.

When they both were in his cabin with the doors shut and locked, Ed felt nervousness start to coil up in his stomach. Olu was ringing his hands awkwardly in the center of the room like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Ed couldn’t help but agree. 

“So,” Ed started, “What do you need to tell me?”

Lazily he fell back into one of Stede’s plush chairs and crossed one leg over the other. Even though he hated that most of the furniture was still Stede’s he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out. And a part of him still loved the velvety texture and lavender smell. Perhaps that was why he chose to sit when his anxiety became too much.

“It’s well,” Olu paused uncomfortably, “It’s about how we found you.”

Ed nodded absentmindedly, and let his eyes focus on the man in the middle of his cabin.

“A few days after we were uh…stranded, Stede showed up in a dinghy. We argued pretty hard against it, obviously, but he was set on finding you. Having so many people in that boat for days was terrible but eventually we made it to land,” Olu said slowly, like he was worried every word would be his last.

Edward cringed at the sound of Stede’s name, but for some reason, hearing he was okay made something inside him soften. As much as the Kraken hated Stede’s guts Ed could never bring himself to. Whenever he thought of the numerous ways he’d kill or maim Stede if he showed up again he’d always end up in tears. 

“When we got there Stede found this fucking fortune teller lady. We told him it was probably a scam, but he went anyway. We really didn’t think much of it, but well, she was better than we thought, I guess. In exchange for your location Stede gave up something…pretty big.”

Ed raised his brows in question, ignoring the fact that his heart felt like lead, “And what would that be exactly?”

Olu’s eyes fell to the ground as he slowly drew out the handkerchief again, “Okay…dont freak out.”

“Hmm, you’re doing a great job of making me feel calm,” Ed scoffed.

Slowly Olu extended his hands outward and let the cloth open. And there, sitting in Olu’s palm with wide nervous eyes was Stede fucking Bonnet.

“What the fuck!” Ed hissed as he jerked away from his definitely not-real tiny ex-lover.

“Dumbass got cursed to find you,” Olu scoffed, “So before you do anything to fucking drastic maybe try talking shit out.”

Olu shifted his hands forward and with a shock Ed realized he was trying to hand him the kerchief with Stede inside. Part of him was terrified to accept it, he was certain the Kraken would find some way to hurt him. He had enough trouble not causing harm to people of a normal height. How was he expected to keep someone barely the size of his finger safe?

After a few seconds of dreadful silence Ed carefully scooped the handkerchief into his hands. As soon as Stede was settled in his palm, the small weight overwhelmed him. He barely even noticed as Olu exited the room, leaving him and Stede alone. His eyes stayed glued to the tiny man that fit between his fingers like a doll. 

“Ed?” Stede said in a much softer voice than Ed remembered, “God I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Ed cringed at the pain laced in Stede’s voice even though he’d done nothing but dream about this apology for months, about how he’d hurt Stede and make him feel the same pain he’d felt when he left. 

“Why the fuck did you leave?”

“I didn’t want to,” Stede’s shoulders fell, “That night I was woken up by a gun to my head…It’s not an excuse, but he said I’d ruined you.”

“You ruined me by leaving,” Ed swallowed uncomfortably.

“I know that now…But I didn’t want to feel like I was the one to ruin the mighty Blackbeard.”

Ed stared down at the tiny man sitting in his hands and sighed. He wanted to forgive him, god he did, but his heart still ached at the memory of waiting on a dock for hours. He could crush if he really wanted to, it wouldn’t even be hard, but still the idea of actually hurting Stede made him feel ill.

“Was any of it true then?” Ed asked, “Or was everything just so ‘the Blackbeard’ wouldn’t kill you?”

The few moments of silence after his question felt poisonous. Somehow silence was even worse than any answer he could have imagined. Again the rage that had been present in his souls for the past few months built up inside him until something warm and wet landed on his hands. He glanced down and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of tears running down Stede’s cheeks.

“It was all real,” Stede said, “I promise on my life Ed. I really didn’t…I was stupid. I shouldn’t have left, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“I don’t,” Ed shrugged as he tried to ignore the uncomfortable weight on his heart.

“I know…You don’t have to. Do whatever you want. Throw me out to sea, crush me- I know I deserve it. I’m just glad I got to apologize first,” Stede nodded.

Ed had to repress his tears as Stede leaned over and pressed a kiss to his thumb, “I love you Edward Teach.”

And as much as Ed didn’t want to give in, the words felt like heaven. The anger and pain from the past few months were outweighed by the promise of love from Stede Bonnet. It didn’t matter that he had left- he was back, and Ed would be damned if he ever let Stede leave his sight again. If he really did deserve nice things, maybe he deserved to keep Stede in his life. 

“God Stede,” Ed shook his head, “I love you too you idiot. And if you ever fucking leave me again I’ll kill you a million times over.”

Stede laughed and god was the sound of it delightful. Ed would do anything to hear it every day.

“I have no plans on it, captain.”

Ed wanted to kiss him, but the elephant in the room drew his attention. His partner being smaller than his finger was much less than ideal, no matter how cute he was. And as much as Ed loved the idea of being able to take Stede wherever he wanted he worried about keeping him safe at his new stature.

“So you made a deal with a witch?” Ed frowned.

“Uh not exactly,” Stede shrugged, “More of a fortune teller really.”

“And your fortune was…” Ed paused, “Becoming small?”

Stede opened his mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it. Instead he leaned his weight against Ed’s fingers.

“I guess,” he hummed, “She said she’d give me a map that could locate you wherever you went but I’d have to give up something of equal value. I’d say it was a pretty beneficial exchange.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Ed sighed, “You really wanted to find me that bad huh?”

“Of course. Being a bit shorter isn’t too big of a deal if I can be with you, is it?”

Ed couldn’t help but laugh at Stede’s usual charm, even though he didn’t agree. His laughter shook Stede a bit, and the power he had over the tiny man scared him once again. He knew he wasn’t a gentle man, and as careful as he tried to be around Stede he worried that the Kraken would strike once again. He would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to Stede after losing him the first time.

“You know usually I’d agree with you but you’re the size of fish food right now mate,” Ed sighed, “We’ll find a way to fix this okay?”

“Of course.”

“And for now you're staying with me,” Ed said, letting his protectiveness wash over him, “As much as I love our crew, if anyone lays a hand on you like this I think I’ll have to do some maiming.”

“You do love a good maiming,” Stede laughed.

“That's right.”

Carefully, Ed pulled his hands up to his face so he was eye to eye with Stede. Even after months the gentleman pirate looked at him like he was made of something gold and beautiful rather than the monster he was. The feeling of love was unfamiliar but oh so nice. Slowly, Ed bent his head down until his lips touched the top of Stede’s head. It was barely a kiss, but he hoped it would get the point across. He pulled away, but Stede reached back for him holding his hands out above him. 

“What?” Ed laughed as Stede made grabby hands at his face.

“Come back,” Stede whined, “I can’t exactly do it myself.”

Ed rolled his eyes and carefully leaned back down to Stede. This time though before he could plant another kiss on Stede’s head the tiny man leaned up and pressed his face to Ed’s bottom lip. It wasn’t really a kiss, but still Ed felt like his heart was going to explode. They’d kissed before, but it still made his stomach churn with warmth.

“God I love you,” Ed whispered like a prayer against Stede’s head. His whole heart was put into his words, and still it didn’t feel like enough.

“I love you too,” Stede promised, “You’re my favorite nice thing.”

And while Ed didn’t know if he could believe it he let himself indulge in Stede’s far too kind words. They sunk into his skin like honey and he felt trapped in Stede’s love. They’d find a way to fix this and until then Ed would do his damn best to keep him safe.

#our flag means death g/t #g/t #gt #corywrites #not mcyt sorry #this dumb gay pirate show has taken over my life #blackbonnet #edward teach #stede bonnet #t!stede

[wristful]

“ you’re still coming over for dinner tonight, right? “ / stevie and ellie

BEFORE.

the original plan is to get andrew, head to the skatepark and see what this fine saturday morning has in store for two sixteen year old boys; technically, he's still grounded for getting caught skipping biology, but mom had a last minute emergency at the base and dad is away on a trip so. who's to know if stevie takes a little sideways tour? and this would all go to plan except for the follow: andrew isn't home and ellie is and lately, things between them have been... interesting. different.

it had started about three months ago at movie night at his house. andrew had fallen asleep and they'd just been making fun of some totally stupid b-list horror movie, messing around, and then out of nowhere. they'd kissed. suddenly. quickly. a peck really, completely chaste. but it hadn't stayed that way: two weeks later, they'd ended up kissing in the garage while looking for soda while their respective families had dinner inside. and then again at school, under the bleachers.

it's new and exciting and when stevie shows up to an empty house and ellie invites him in -- well. well.

and the kissing is incredible, it's mind blowing, it's enough to completely turn his brain smooth with zero thought to when anyone might be due home or if he should be getting home (he's sixteen, for god's sake, he's only human). but then the stairs creek and. oh.

oh fuck.

ellie practically launches herself halfway across her room and stevie scrambles over himself to grab his tshirt from the floor and his shoes from under the bed and beelines to the window -- falling out of it and landing with all the grace of a bowling ball. from the window, ellie leans out (flushed red and so unbelievably pretty) and says you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right?

PRESENT.

you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right? she says it without really looking at him; she's looking at a spot over his shoulder and doesn't really seem to be expecting an answer, mouth downturned, frown in place. he's late. very late. too late to see the show or comment on the great job the gallery did or ask about any of the paintings or even see any of them. they're stood on the street with her back to the darkened gallery where the cleaners are starting to put the place back to rights. he can see people milling around and shifting things, taking some of the artwork down for packaging. it must have gone well.

his flowers are battered from the wind and rain - he'd run halfway across midtown to the last flower shop that was open in the area. the suit he's wearing doesn't fit. he reeks of cigarette smoke and beer.

he's really late. "-- i'm so sorry i missed it."

AFTER.

there are a few stragglers from the game who are thinning out and he can hear a few familiar voices; he's been cornered by one of the teachers who want to know about using the community centre for a fundraiser - for the kids who can't go to the camp, pastor steve, you know it's such an important cause and we really could use your support - and almost misses ridley on his way out. stevie ducks the conversation with a sure, thing and darts out to the floor.

willow is talking excitedly on the way out the door with andrew and izzy, dolling out offered high fives, and will is meandering in the background nearby.

stevie misses the conversation except the tail end of you're still coming over for dinner tonight, right? and though ridley nods, he wonders if there won't be a last minute emergency. stevie shakes his hand anyway and gives his brother a quick hug and when their backs are turned, far enough away, stevie kisses her. "don't worry, i can put laxatives in his sauce."

#ruinaa #sweetbittr #INT. STEVEN DANVERS. #TIME / EARLIER. #TIME / LATER. #i lov E THEM

[izzy-b-hands]

What Happens To The Heart-Ch. 2

Some folks requested a part two to my last fic, and i decided to give more a go! I'll be editing the first post to notate that there'll be more than one chapter now as well.

TW mentions of corpses, death, also road head except in a dinghy so...boat head?

---

The village is small. One dock that he ties the dinghy to before grabbing his things and heading towards the first building he sees, a small open sort of shed, with some fishing gear and rope by it.

Empty.

"Hello?" Izzy calls out along the dirt path leading further onto the island.

Silence.

He shrugs, and makes his way onwards. No one here has to interact with him if they don't want to; that's fine by him.

The market stalls he passes bear only rotting fruit and empty spaces, and he starts to fear the worst.

Sure enough, the stench of death hits in a massive wave as he reaches a number of small cabin-like houses.

One by one, he searches through them, gently stepping over rotting corpses he can barely see in the dark. Some sickness maybe, hopefully nothing he could still catch, though he doubts that.

There's nothing he needs for now though, and he makes his way past the houses into the trees.

"Mind if I crash here?" he asks a small snake that slithers past.

The snake pauses, seems to turn their head, then continues on away from him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Izzy sighs.

His things rest by the tree he's chosen as 'his', and he settles down by them.

His head rests on one of his bags, but sleep doesn't arrive. He strips off his vest to drape it over himself like a blanket, but it's no good.

"Fine then," he grumbles, and sits back up to lean against the tree. "I can sleep later."

It occurs, as he stares into the dark surrounding him, listening to the sound of night creatures milling around, exactly why he can't sleep.

He's used to saying goodnight to Ed and Bonnet. Without them here, it's a hurdle his brain won't jump to get him to sleep.

"Stupid fucking Bonnet," he sighs.

--

"Izzy's gone," Stede says. "Ed, we can catch up to him-"

"He's banished," Ed interrupts. "Roach! Get the man of the hour a drink!"

A cheer erupts from the crew as Roach passes down a bottle of rum, but Stede sets it on the table as soon as it reaches his hands.

"Ed," Stede tries again. "Seriously. He's your first ma-"

"He was," Ed cuts him off. "Wait."

He turns to Stede and stares. "Oh fuck. We left you-"

"Yeah, you all did," Stede says sharply. "You know who got me down and cleaned up?"

He's speaking louder than he realized; the entire crew is silent and listening now.

"Izzy," he continues. "Izzy came and got me down and bandaged me up. How long would you guys have left me up there if not for him?"

"Not really sure why you're mad at us," Frenchie scoffs. "He's the one that put you there in the first place."

"Maybe so, but at least he had the decency to fix what he'd done," Stede replies. "Or to do his best at that, at least."

"What happened?" Ed asks. "Don't say nothing either, because I can tell-"

"Come with me," Stede murmurs to him, and Ed swings his legs over the bench and out to follow him away from the galley.

"Stede, this is how things go," Ed says gently as they reach the main deck, bathed in moonlight. "I know it seems harsh-"

"It is," Stede interrupts. "He-"

"Stabbed you," Ed finishes. "And in doing so, he broke his blade so you won. Simple as."

"I understand that," Stede says. "But even so, rules can be bent or broken."

"Izzy likes rules, so he should be perfectly happy right now," Ed replies, but he can't seem to meet Stede's gaze.

"Ed, I don't believe you," Stede says softly. "I thought he was your friend."

"You were calling him an asshole not so long ago," Ed shoots back. "Now you can't go on without him here?"

"He kissed me," Stede says. "I mean. I kissed him. Then he kissed me back. Ed, I haven't kissed anyone other than Mary before-"

Ed's eyes snap to his, full of fire. "He did what?"

"Ed," Stede frowns. "I kissed him first-"

"So what?" Ed scoffs. "Yeah, you're right. I should go find him, so I can tell him to fuck off into the fucking sea."

"Edward!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?! I wanted to kiss you first, and then he-"

"You want to kiss me?"

Stede's heart pounds fast. "You really want to kiss me?"

Ed steps close, and nods.

"I'm right here," Stede continues.

Ed may be upset, but his kiss is gentle as anything.

"If you prefer Izzy," Ed starts, but Stede kisses him to cut him off.

"I don't prefer one of you over the other," Stede says. "I haven't been kissed in years, Ed. And with all respect to Mary, the kisses she and I shared weren't really what either of us wanted, I don't think. I've never enjoyed a kiss until Izzy and yourself."

Ed kisses him again, more urgently, hands running lightly over Stede's waist until Stede uses his own hands to set them firmly there.

"I don't think I want to choose," Stede says. "I don't...I can't explain it. Not right now. It's been a lot and I've got so much in my head and that's very distracting-"

One of Ed's legs is pressing against his cock, and the urge to rut against him is utterly ridiculous. Putting a sentence together feels impossible.

"I'll stop," Ed says quickly, but Stede reaches down to keep his leg there.

"No, I like it," Stede gasps. "But we need to go find Izzy too. I'm going to think of a plan, just need a moment."

Ed carefully walks them backwards to a wall, gently pressing Stede against it. "Go on."

He can't help but moan at the chance to grind against Ed's thigh. This is outside of anything he's done before, and it's electrifying. All need and want and feeling, nothing like the overthinking he did in bed with Mary.

"We'll go find him when the sun is up," Ed murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as Stede moves.

"You didn't want him to go, did you?"

Ed shakes his head. "He's my friend."

Stede twines his hands in Ed's hair, pulling him close for another kiss.

Morning then. That's soon enough, and surely he can't have gone far.

--

Izzy wakes to a backache.

"Stupid fucking tree," he groans as he stands, only to smash his foot into a large rock.

"Stupid fucking rock!"

He whips around to go the other way, and a vine on the ground trips him.

"Stupid fucking island," Izzy spits. "Stupid fucking Bonnet, Ed-"

He pauses. He doesn't mean that. Not about them.

He drops back down by the tree, and lets himself snuggle up against it, knees pulled up to his chest.

At least here, he can cry in peace.

--

"Olu, you're in charge," Stede declares. "That means whatever he says goes!"

"What if he tells us to mutiny against you?" The Swede asks.

Stede frowns. "I'd hope you wouldn't. Would really prefer you not, actually."

"Why would you want to mutiny?" Ed asks sharply.

"No one is going to mutiny," Olu interjects. "We'll be fine. Not like we're going anywhere until you two are back anyway."

"Do you promise no mutiny plans?" Stede asks. "Because you guys did already nearly do that once to me, so. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice-"

"Just go get him," Olu sighs. "I promise. No mutiny plans, nothing except chores and fucking around doing whatever."

Ed nods. "I think that works. Stede?"

"Sounds good," Stede says. "Shall we?"

The dinghy is heavy with them, their supplies, and extra things Izzy might need as well in it.

It isn't anything much, but Stede fears being unprepared. A thick sweater in case he's cold or sick, new trousers (actually an old black velvet pair of breeches Stede never really liked on himself), extra food, bandages, water.

"You're sure he went this way?" Ed asks as he rows. "I don't see anything in the distance."

"Well, we kept going after he left," Stede replies. "So we've got a ways to go, most likely. Let me know when you want me to take the oars for a bit."

"I'm good," Ed grunts, fighting against the waves. His bare bicep flexes, and Stede can't look away.

"Can I try something?"

Ed looks at him. "What is it?"

Stede can't kneel in the dinghy, but the wooden plank seats are close enough for him to gently reach over and feel Ed's bicep.

Ed blushes and grins. "Thanks. That's what a fuck ton of rowing like this will get you, eventually."

"How long do you think it'll take for me?" Stede asks.

"Dunno," Ed replies. "I mean, your arms are nice already. Not that more muscle is a bad thing, and you'll look good with it. Really fucking good."

Ed pulls the oars in for a moment, and leans in to kiss Stede hard. "Sorry. Couldn't hold that back."

Stede sighs happily. Who knew kissing and the littlest touches could feel this good. "Please, don't hold back."

"Greedy," Ed teases.

"I am," Stede says, with an excited giggle. "Could I try something else?"

"Should I keep rowing?" Ed asks.

"I think you could," Stede replies, and traces over the buttons of the fall-front of Ed's trousers. "Now, I've never done this but I've had it done to me, so I don't think I can fuck it up too badly-"

He undoes the buttons to free Ed's already half hard cock, and awkwardly leans down further to take him into his mouth.

"Fucking-" Ed gasps and Stede hears an oar clatter into the boat. "I thought your hand maybe, I didn't expect-"

Stede tries to dig in his mind for what Mary used to do for him, then it clicks.

What would he want done if it was him on the receiving end?

It seems to be what Ed wants as well, his free hand moving to rest over Stede's as it grips his thigh.

"Rowing," Ed gasps a moment later. "Right, fuck. I can do that."

Stede hums happily around Ed's cock, and Ed lets out a whimpering whine.

But he does start to row again as Stede sucks him off, though the extra motion makes it more interesting to manage his mouth and hands all at once.

If his technique is missing anything, Ed doesn't seem to care. He rows on, occasionally whining and pausing to toss an oar back in the boat before twining his fingers in Stede's hair.

Ed taps his shoulder rapidly after another few moments.

He could stop. But he also recalls how good it felt when Mary would keep going as he came, and even if he can't swallow, maybe Ed won't mind.

The other oar clatters into the dinghy on his other side, and Ed's hips jerk up off his seat.

Swallowing isn't in the cards, at least not now, so Stede lets Ed's come fall from his mouth so he can keep sucking.

"Okay," Ed pants. "Fuck, too much, Stede-"

Stede pops back up and winces. "Next time should maybe do this elsewhere. Don't think my back liked that much, but it was worth it. Did I do alright?"

Ed leans forward to rest his head against Stede's shoulder, his hand busy tucking himself away and doing up his trousers.

"Is that a yes?" Stede chuckles at Ed's breath on his neck, the almost inaudible whines he presses into Stede's skin with kisses.

"Yeah," Ed sighs finally. "You did good. Fucking hell, you did very good."

"Really? I know I'll need more practice," Stede says.

"Enthusiasm can make up for more than you'd expect," Ed says. "Okay. Hate to ask, but I'm still all jelly-feeling. Could you row?"

"Absolutely," Stede replies. "You want to stay there?"

"For another minute at least. You're comfy."

Stede smiles and gently rests his head against Ed's. "You are too."

In the distance, he can barely make out a strip of sand and trees.

#text post #ofmd fic #blackbonnet #tho we are gonna keep going and get to more stizzy and steddyhands again #just gotta get the lads back together again first akdnkfgnm