#and I always assumed he'd end up on the same side as the crew just bc of the tone of the show

[drankeverysky]

thinking about that one post about how izzy is a code-era closeted gay whose queerness is confined to symbolism and implication, and how that puts him out of step with all the rainbow muppets

thinking about how ofmd is great at having the literal alongside the metaphorical; piracy has always been symbolically queer from the moment that stede left his wife and family to seek self-actualisation on the margins of society - but then they're all literally queer too

thinking about the new unicorn, and the crew accepting and welcoming izzy as part of their community, and part of the revenge in a way that's open and obvious to anyone

thinking about the man who was so panicked by "have you ever been sketched?" now cracking jokes about gay sex and his own kinks

thinking about how izzy was already starting to side with the crew and accept the comfort and support they were offering when "above all else is loyalty to one's captain" managed to become a clumsy and awkward "I have love for you". thinking about how by ep7 izzy "bonnet has done something to my boss's brain" hands is able to (in the same place!) casually drop his love into conversation

thinking about izzy in drag singing a love song and being cheered on and celebrated and utterly part of a community, not just the symbolic pirate family but very explicitly the queer community as well and crying and crying and crying

[squishablesunbeam]

Okay gotta askkk~

HOW would they have been punished for that connection? I’m assuming it’s to do with the captain since he claimed Collins at the end

Au plots don't come nearly as easily to my brain but here's what I have for au world!

Okay so, the Captain realizes pretty quickly that the crew might not react well to him using Collins in the same way he uses Quinn. Collins isn't a traitor. All he's really done so far is give Quinn some of his clothes to wear and he knows that's not enough for some of them to cross that line.

Collins is a decorated soldier after all and that comes with some measure of loyalty and respect, even among this crew.

He begrudgingly abandons his plan to build Collins his own cage. One that's too narrow for him to fully sit down in and too short for him to stand all the way up. One that he would beg to be let out of and spread over a mattress instead. He prefers Quinn, he always will, but that image keeps him up at night.

Instead, he decides he needs to be just a little more careful and bring the crew over to his side a little more gently.

So he strips Collins of his rank and doesn't allowed him access to weapons or the ability to move freely through the ship. He's labelled a sympathizer and gets demoted to their janitor, more or less, but with the extra task of feeding and hosing down Quinn. He's also the one now that takes Quinn out of his cage and brings him to whichever of the crew that claimed him.

The Captain also puts in place a new set up for when Quinn is claimed by the crew. They are all required to meet in the mess hall now, with Quinn kneeling in the center of the room while they decide his fate for the night. Once they've decided, and since there's apparently so much sympathy and concern over the ship's whore, the Captain so graciously opens the room up to volunteers. If any of them think Quinn should have a night off, they are welcome to take his place.

Quinn begs him not to, over and over again, but Collins volunteers every single night.

The Captain and whichever man claimed Quinn both have to agree on the exchange and, so far, Percy and Bailey have said yes multiple times. Hawkins couldn't resist seeing just how much a man like Collins could take and he wasn't disappointed in the slightest, and the Captain has only taken him once. He savors the moment when he denies Collins' offer and takes Quinn instead so much more than actually having Collins strapped down to his bed.

He's banking on the crew beginning to see Collins the same way they see Quinn. Once they do, the Captain can do whatever he likes to the man without risk of another revolt.

He knew all of this would royally fuck with Collins' head but he didn't expect what all this would do to Quinn. He was so pleasantly surprised when Quinn actually started to try to please the men. He writhes against them now and moans into their mouths as they fuck him, he begs when he's told to and fucks himself back on their dicks, almost willingly, all on the off chance that they will enjoy themselves enough to not accept Collins' offer the next time.

They both break hard and fast in this au. Their connection to each other really overwhelm them both and Collins' seeks out a way to escape almost immediately. It just takes him a lot longer than he'd like.

That's it! That's the au!

[snailor-bee]

A Cavernous Date

Done for a server trade! <3 I got @flare-kuzkui and decided on their OC and Law. :) I hope you like it!

Law x F!OC / SFW  / 1.2k Summary: Fury wanted to go cave exploring, Law is unwillingly dragged along. Warnings: None!

Law huffed in annoyance, tapping Kikoku aggressively on his shoulder. 

Why he'd even been dragged into this was beyond him. The crew had basically shoved him in Fury's direction when she mentioned wanting to go cave exploring. His eyebrow twitched thinking of the reason why the crew felt like he was a good candidate to go. They hadn't been exactly subtle in expressing their desire to see him and Fury get together. 

The thought grated on his nerves. Not because the thought of them dating necessarily bothered him, but he didn't need his crew trying to dictate Law's love life. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. 

Still, Fury was excited as she walked ahead of him, oooo-ing and awww-ing already. They weren't even properly into the cave yet. 

"It's just rocks, why are you getting so excited," he muttered and Fury cut a glare at him over her shoulder. Her eyes, lacking the normal white sclera of most were instead a dark black with piercing deep red orbs, made the expression even more deadly. 

"We're here to have a good time, Law," she reminded. He grunted. Fury's crimson-colored webbed ears wiggled and Law braced himself for the argument. They stilled and he released a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. Fury could get argumentative in the worst of times. Although he wasn't happy to be here, Law didn't want to make it miserable by getting her mad at him. 

Fury stopped and waited until Law walked to her side before looping an arm through his. He took the chance to glance down at her. Her short wine-red hair bobbed with her moments, freckles on her face glowing a faint scarlet. He looked away quickly before she could catch him staring. 

Pretty, some voice within him noted distantly and he shoved the thought away. 

"What's so special about this cave anyway, Fury-ya?" Law asked, trying to distract himself. 

Fury put a finger to her lips with a smile. "It's a surprise." 

The further away from the mouth of the cave they walked, the darker it became. For a moment, Fury shone brightly, as her body glowed in the darkness of the cave, the ends of her hair and the freckles dotted over her skin brightening up, seemingly to light their path before she held out her other hand. 

Magma sprouted in the palm, looking gooey and burning a bright red that lit up the rockface around them. Law frowned. 

"Better make sure none of that touches my clothes," he warned. Fury snorted, eyes now aglow since she was using her devil fruit. 

"Don't worry, Captain, I won't." 

As they walked deeper, the magma dripped down her hand and landed on the ground with a loud hiss. Neither looked back as it cooled and turned black. 

"At least if we get lost we can find a way back," Law mentioned offhandedly, thinking of possible worst-case scenarios. 

"Why do you always assume the worst?" Fury asked with a sigh and he grinned. Bumping into her side, he decided to tease, just a little. 

"That's why I'm not the captain and you're not." She stuck out her tongue at him but didn't argue. Instead, she began chatting at him about plans for the next day, with Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi. 

Law listened idly as they began to descend down a slope. He still didn't understand what they were doing here, it all looked the same to him. 

Finally, they could hear the drip-drip of water and Fury began to pull him along before dropping his arm and hurrying to the water's edge. "Oh look, Law!" She pointed at an underground lake. 

"Is this what we came here for?" he groused, unimpressed. Fury rolled her eyes as he came up beside her, led by the light of her magma. 

"Look up," she said and Law did so with a frown. 

Pointed rocks looked down at them, shaped like large icicles hanging from the ceiling. His brow furrowed. "Okay?" 

"They're stalactites," Fury said, voice awed. "Keep your eyes on them." Then, without warning, she dropped her palm of magma into the lake. The resulting hiss made him jump but he'd never admit it. 

For a second, total darkness greeted his eyes and Law struggled to keep himself calm. 

Then a warm hand caressed his arm, following it down and grabbing his free hand. Fury intertwined their fingers and Law's heart rate slowed ever so slightly, the fear clenched around his heart momentarily loosening its grip. He was okay, they were okay. 

He can just make her out like this, the ends of her hair glowing against her skin, as her freckles lit up in the dark space. Fury caught his eye and pointed up. Law scowled at her, cheeks burning with the slightest hint of embarrassment before turning to look. 

The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. There, along the ceiling, shimmering blue light glowed down at them, almost like stars but not quite. They're bigger and leave almost a trail hanging, gobs of blue starlight on a string. It's beautiful, this almost night sky in the depths of a cave. 

"Beautiful, right?" Fury's voice whispered the very thought he'd been thinking next to him. "Their glowworms. The strings you can see? It's silk." 

"Wow," Law said and it echoed around them. Fury pressed in close as they both bent their heads back to look up and he had a realization. 

Sighing loudly, a burst of blue lit up the chamber around them before he uttered a quick "Shambles." Kikoku now safely leaning against a wall Law dropped the small rock in his hand and let the room fade away. 

Turning to face Fury, he let his forearms rest on her shoulders, as she stared quizzically up at him. "Is this a date, Flare-ya?" 

Whether from the question or the nickname Law couldn't say, but her freckles illuminated brighter, embarrassment always made her do that. The crew frequently called her Flare but Law never had.

Not until just now. 

"N-no!" Fury denied. "Why would you think that?!" The heated expression told Law she was building up for a fight so he ducked down and brushed their lips together briefly, and she squeaked. 

Quickly he withdrew and straightened. "Wasn't going to complain if it was, but if it's not then that's fine." Law shrugged as he removed his arms from her shoulders and took a step back. "Should we start to head back or did you want to stay longer?" 

Fury fidgeted in place, and Law bit down on a smile. She hated admitting when she was wrong. He wondered how much a date with him was worth; if she'd deem it worthy enough to admit her lie or if she'd rather brush past it. 

When she flung herself at him, Law chuckled, figuring that answered his question well enough. Fury grabbed onto the front of his shirt, pouting up at him. "The others...might have said it could be a date. I didn't think of it like that." 

"And now?" he pressed, just because he could. Fury's freckles glow brighter with the force of her blush. 

"Maybe...I wouldn't mind..." she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. 

Law's grin widened before he tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her again, the two of them getting lost in each other. 

[sixstepsaway]

"After all, a lot of people elevate Ed high above Izzy and then argue that he brought his maiming upon himself." This is a REALLY good point, and I was considering something along that line. Ed takes Izzy's loyalty for granted. He is basically poised to give up a life of piracy in ep10, but feels no need to discuss this with Izzy, his literal first mate. It kinda comes off like, if he did decide to give up piracy, he'd assume Izzy would still be by his side. Like Izzy is just a close friend or PA following him around instead of a professional pirate who chose to follow Ed because he was an incredible pirate captain. Because the focus is mostly on Edward, it seems like people unconsciously slip into that same mindset. Izzy is just a bad friend trying to control Ed for no reason instead of a subordinate dependent on Ed's choices as captain for his livelihood and safety. Because Ed has forgotten his responsibilities and obligations as captain, some fans have forgotten they exist as well. They have the expectation of Izzy's support and loyalty, though, and Izzy is criticized when he isn't always understanding of his pirate captain boss's feelings. I mean, aside from the fact that nothing Izzy did justified mutilation and forced autocannibalism.

This is all incredibly true, nonnie. It ties into this meta I was pointed towards which discusses how Ed takes Izzy utterly for granted, and he really does. Ed assumes Izzy is his shadow and where he goes, Izzy will just follow, because surely Izzy and he will be of the same mind.

It makes me think that in the past, they were of the same mind. I buy strongly into the idea they built the myth of Blackbeard up together, that it was a team effort to take Blackbeard from Great Pirate to The Greatest Pirate Who Ever Lived (to quote Chauncey Badminton), and that they were a flawless team. In fact, the way they move together at the end of 1x10 reinforces this for me; they fall into step with one another very, very easily.

It also ties into the fact Ed just doesn't fuckin talk to Izzy! He just doesn't! Izzy in 1x10 is all, "I don't serve Ed, I serve Blackbeard, stop being terrible and go back to pirating!" with no idea that Ed is basically hoping to pack it in. He doesn't know Ed has made that decision, just that he was considering retirement (which is now off the table), and, in fact, Ed agreed that retirement isn't an option for pirates like them.

And, we yet again go back to that line from Oluwande I keep referencing: He and Jim and the other pirates are pirates not because they just felt like it and the life seemed Cool™, but because they have no other choice. And, much like this historical framing meta says, Izzy almost certainly has no other choice either, so when Edward is just, "Meh! No more piracy!" Izzy's entire life is flashing before his eyes and he's wondering what the fuck he's going to do if Edward takes everything out from under him - a crew, a ship, a captain, a trusted position. He'd have to rebuild it all from scratch, and that is very unlikely to be easy.

(Especially if he's sporting the mark of a traitor.)

And finally:

I mean, aside from the fact that nothing Izzy did justified mutilation and forced autocannibalism.

I have seen some people argue with their whole chest that Ed's reaction to Izzy picking on him for pining after his boyfriend was not, in fact, overblown or an overreaction, and that he was justified in what he did, and I do not like this one bit.

Furthermore, I...actually can't think of anything that I think would justify the mutilation and forced autocannibalism? If Izzy had maimed and tortured Stede, the mutilation and autocannibalism would be a matter of, "Let's not go as low as Izzy did," and would not be justified because it'd be what villains did, not what our protagonists did. Izzy's canon betrayal that nearly got Stede shot wasn't met with this kind of force. Izzy stabbing Stede was not met with this kind of force. Neither of those things deserved it, either.

Him being a bitch about Edward being a mopey shit that needed to pull his act together was not and will never be justification for what Edward did to him.

Because the focus is mostly on Edward, it seems like people unconsciously slip into that same mindset.

I think also we're sort of led by the hand to love Edward and see him in a positive, romantic light. Firstly, he's tall and attractive, which we all know has an unconscious bias (people think pretty people are more trustworthy etc). Secondly he's our second romantic lead, so we're meant to like and root for him! Thirdly, we're given consistent insight into his thoughts and feelings and his past.

Ed (and Izzy) come in from the outside in 1x03, but we're immediately given a window into Ed's cabin where they're discussing Stede, and a window into Ed's thoughts and plans when we're allowed to see him plotting with Izzy to kill Stede in 1x04. In 1x05 we're shown his vulnerabilities and we're given a flashback to his mom and how she was with him and what she taught him. We're shown that he just wants to fit in and be loved, but that society shuns him for it. And in 1x06 we're given an anxiety attack and a full blown flashback to his father's abuse and his first murder. We're shown all of these things to build empathy and sympathy for his character, so even when he does commit atrocities, or discuss his past atrocities, we feel for him and want to believe that he did those things because he had reasons (his father was abusing his mother, so he killed him!) or that he's choosing to stray from that path now and do better, which is admirable.

Izzy, meanwhile, we can only glean backstory and reasoning for by digging into his actions, words, accent, mannerisms, movements, choices etc. We're not given flashbacks, we're not given bonus information to chew on. We don't know if he had a mother who raised him, if his father was a great guy or beat him, we don't know who his first captain was, we haven't met his old friend he served with, we don't see the look of sadness on his face after he makes plans he doesn't want to follow through on. We're given windows, sure, but most of those windows end up framed from other people's points of view rather than Izzy's own (his behavior with Lucius we see mostly from Lucius's angle; for example when Izzy leaves the room we don't follow him, we stay with Lucius. That episode sub-plot was Lucius's sub-plot, not Izzy's) and we're not even given tidbits like Lucius's babblings about his mum thinking he was straight and the implication he had a girlfriend or wife once (not all beards are worn on your face, or whatever the line is) to cover his sexuality.

So people, as you say, unconsciously slip into the mindset that there is no depth, no reason. He's just a dick and thusly deserves horrible things happening to him, because Edward is the person we side with and are supposed to empathize with.

Which, I want to clarify, I do. I love Edward. I love him so much. He's just also an objectively terrible person who has a buttload of growth he needs to do before he should be trusted alone with people and weapons at the same time holy shit

I just typed "edward teach met" then "edward teach meat" then "edward teach mts" so I am going to bed now. Thanks for the message, hope the thoughts were up to the standard you've come to expect. Goodnight!

[major-fukkup]

Pick 3 items within arm’s reach. Which would your OC grab first to use in self-defense?

If your OC created a tumblr account, what would their username be? What would they blog about?

Which OC is most likely to befriend a live skeleton?

Your OCs are traveling through the vastness of space while a stealthy alien life-form picks crew mates off one by one. How long do they last?

Pick 3 items within arm's reach. Which would your OC grab first to use in self-defense?

Universally, probably my Supernatural lunch bag. It's weighted with art supplies and also has a nice strap to strangle your assailant with. :)

Alternatively my backpack or the free-standing air conditioning unit.

Or my knife of course but I keep that in my pocket 24/7 unless it's in my hand but it is TECHNICALLY within arm's reach.

If your OC created a Tumblr account, what would their username be? What would they blog about?

Agent Aitch would probably just put hers as agent-aitch (with the hyphen). She has nothing to hide, in person or online, and she'd rather have as few different identities as possible.

She'd probably blog mostly photos of the places she's been. She didn't take them for aesthetic value at all but they are absolutely the most aesthetically pleasing photos you have ever seen. Also she'd post positive and uplifting messages.

Victor would absolutely pick a username he thinks is reeeaaally cool, cooler than he will ever be but he's delusional and he also deserves this moment. That or he'd put his cat's name in there somewhere.

Oh never mind he would call it catblades because his two favorite things in the world (besides family) are his cat and mantis blades. He's not allowed to have them but he is basically hyperfixated on them. And he'd probably keep making fan art of his cat as a character with mantis blades. He'd probably end up getting into furry territory and actually being accepted there but he'd be confused as hell about the whole thing yet never bother to ask.

He would also post cityscapes (would be inherently aesthetic but he'd probably find a way to take the worst photos possible, unironically), food (every time he tries something new he makes a whole life update post and it always looks terrible because... he does eat out of trash cans), and of course his cat. He probably live-blogged his experiences for the first few weeks of having a cat.

Also he'd post stuff from whatever fandoms he happened to be into at any given time.

Paradox's username would PROBABLY be para-para-paradox in reference to Paradise by Coldplay (and of course his past, his alternate form called Paradise, his illusory paradise, etc). It would just be too ironic not to use it.

He'd post highly specific really meta original quotes labeled anonymous and highly specific reaction images that ABSOLUTELY NOBODY would understand except the people who were present when IT HAPPENED. Also probably memes and cats.

And also the pains of working fast food when you're a metaphysical being who has to concentrate really hard in order to interact with the physical world.

Ezian would just have a shitposting blog called something with "cool cat" in it.

All his mutuals send him cat memes that he only finds funny in the same way that humans find human memes funny. He relates to them SO MUCH and he completely overlooks the fact that his mutuals are ACTUALLY poking fun at him because... he's... a cat.

Which OC is most likely to befriend a live skeleton?

Agent Aitch! She has. Several of them.

And Ezian of course.

Also Dan and Alex (they have as well) but I haven't posted about them yet so.

Your OCs are traveling through the vastness of space while a stealthy alien life-form picks crew mates off one by one. How long do they last?

Agent Aitch would undoubtedly last the longest mostly because she has the most experience with situations like this. She would come out on top, having either captured the alien (humanely), or appealed to its softer side or sense of reason (assuming it had one or both - if it didn't it's definitely getting captured).

Ezian would just run away until he found himself cornered and then he'd fight the alien literally tooth and nail until one of them was incapacitated (or if he watched it attack someone else he'd also fight it). So, probably not that long. 😂 Unless he won

Victor would probably last a fairly long time because he would just. Hide.

Correction, Paradox would last the ABSOLUTE longest. He'd make the alien regret ever boarding the spaceship. He'd throw it in a time loop and make it relive its own probably gruesome death again and again and again until it begged for mercy and then he'd throw it out the hatch into space.

Omni is a soldier trained specifically to fight aliens so he'd also definitely last a long time, 'til he runs out of ammo or his batteries die or whatever his crazy alien-fighting weapons are powered by runs out, but again I haven't mentioned him before. (Omni is cool I want to bring him back)

I'm trying to think of OCs who WOULDN'T last very long because surviving is boring. Xanji would get had pretty quick if she was alone. Probably Sparkle too.

[omg-just-peachy]

tell me i won't ever be lonely again | blackbonnet

It was literally just a matter of time before I wrote them sleeping, lets be honest 🏴‍☠️

****

Stede hadn't given much thought to what it might be like, sleeping beside someone else, someone who wasn't Mary.

A part of him, even subconsciously, had just assumed he'd never have the chance again, and it's not like he'd mourned the loss. He might have spent years beside her physically, but there was never any great connection, never any affection felt, and so he hardly had anything to miss.

After all, how can you miss what you'd never had in the first place?

Then came The Revenge and the wonderfully weird collection of crew members, the many trials and tribulations that come with uprooting yourself from polite society and having a go at being a pirate captain just because you felt like it, and well, all told Stede hadn't had time to think much before drifting off at the end of the day.

Most nights he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open another second, even if his slumber did end with the occasional nightmare about his abandoned family.

And then, of course, just as he was getting his sea legs — both literally and metaphorically — there was Ed.

Edward Teach.

Blackbeard, to everyone who knew him.

And he is the last person Stede would imagine in his rooms, let alone in his bed, this man of great and terrible acclaim. He still remembers how it felt that afternoon, waking up after all of those feverish, tormented hours thinking about Mary, about every mistake he'd ever made, only to be greeted by a pair of kind, dark eyes, and a hand on his arm, the touch as soft as any of his finest silks.

It was a comfort, waking up to a warm presence beside him, and as Stede learned from Lucius's notes later on, the man had scarcely left his side while he was out. It filled him with something soft and glowing — steady, and the feeling hadn't gone away in the days and weeks since.

It had, however, made Stede question everything he thought he'd known. Bedtime is a much more pleasant affair with Edward on board, for one thing. No more tumbling into bed with the back and hands and feet aching from a day spent trying to prove himself worthy of his ship, of his crew.

He still wanted to make it as a pirate, of course, but now Stede had Ed, the most well-known pirate in the world, who seemed keen enough to show him the ropes. Their time together didn't end with lessons in how to be a pirate, though. No, most evenings Ed joined Stede in his captain's quarters, happy enough to pass a bottle of something back and forth, or let Stede ply then both with cups of sweet, milky tea, and swap stories.

Stede, for his part, was all too happy to listen to the tales Ed wanted to share. He loved hearing about it, and, it seemed, Ed loved to tell him. Stede never had any shortage of questions, and Ed seemed genuinely surprised that someone wanted to know quite so much about him.

He'd always been a decent enough conversationalist, but Stede had never met someone he was so entirely fascinated by. It was something, watching the crew scurry past Ed during the day, only for the same man to come to his room and curl up almost catlike beneath his luxurious throws.

"You tell me something," Ed says one night before bed. Stede loves their night time routine, though he's finding it harder and harder to bring them to an end, he's so fond of these late night chats with Ed, though he knows he'll be utterly useless in the morning if they don't go to bed soon.

Still, it's rare that Ed asks anything of him, and Stede can't help but want to share a little piece of himself. It'd been so long since anyone had really asked, had really wanted to know him.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm rather limited in tales of adventure," Stede begins, but Ed just waves a hand.

"Got plenty of those m'self, mate, tell something else. You ever miss your life back home? Mary, any of it?" There's a hesitance in Ed's voice that Stede almost never hears, and he pauses before he answers.

"Feels like the answer should be yes, doesn't it? A father should miss his children, should never want his wife to be alone, but the truth is..." Stede trails off, unsure how to paint the picture without making himself sound like a selfish asshole.

Ed squeezes his wrist, just gently, and Stede feels his pulse spike at the touch. Curious how one person could make him feel so steady, so buoyed, and yet so entirely tossed about at the safe time. He lays his own hand atop Ed's and sucks in a breath before continuing. If Ed is put off by the prolonged touch he doesn't say anything, just sits there quietly, listening.

"I want the best for them, and I think I gave them that when I left. They'll want for nothing, Mary can pursue her art... The kids, well... 'course I miss them, but they're in good hands—better hands, probably—with their mother."

At this, Ed frowns. "I reckon they'd have been in fine hands with you, too."

Stede turns, gives him a small smile. "That's nice of you to say."

"S'just the truth. I see how you are out there with the crew. They're hopeless —no offense—and you'd never let them know it. You pay them a fair wage. That's unheard of, you know that, right? And, well... You sit here with a fucker like me night after night, talkin' your ear off."

"Hey, that fucker you're talking about is my friend," Stede says, a little sharply.

"And you stick up for people," Ed says, continuing his line of praise as if Stede hadn't spoken at all. "It's admirable. Don't care what anyone else has to say about it. You're a good man, Stede Bonnet."

Stede finds himself completely lost for words, possibly for the first time ever. He feels like something cracked inside him is splintering all the way open, and he's not at all sure how to stop it.

He leans over, grabs the nearly empty bourbon bottle from the table in front of them, and takes a long swig. He hadn't ever said that out loud before, his beliefs about the children and Mary. Stede had hardly let himself think it, but there was something about sitting here with Ed, the sole focus of those warm brown eyes, that made it feel safe to confess.

He feels warm all over, a result of the drink, no doubt, but the conversation and company, too. Sleepy, he thinks, though he has no desire to act on it.

Just then, one of the final remaining candles burns itself out, leaving them in near darkness, and Stede is hit with the ridiculous thought that if Ed gets up now, all of this, the warm, safe feeling he has right now, will be ruined. Gone, like it'd never happened. He wants to clutch onto Ed, ask him to stay, offer up his own bed, offer to sleep on the couch, where Ed has slept a few nights now, but...

More than anything Stede just wants to tell Ed to stay.

"Right, well, that's—" Ed says, finally breaking the silence and gesturing to the candle. Hot wax oozes down onto the table, slow and steady and hardening with each passing second.

"Thank you," Stede says quickly. "You're very kind, listening to my woes."

"I did ask, mate. It's your life, 'course I want to know." Ed says it like it's just that simple.

The tumultuous feeling Stede gets sometimes is extinguished all at once, just like the candle in front of them.

Ed wanted to know. Even the messy bits. Even the shame of it, leaving his family without much regret to speak of, he hadn't thought less of him. When had someone listened to him without thinking less of him? Stede didn't know.

"Right," Stede says now, nodding. "Right. Well I... Ah. It's late."

Ed's eyebrows contract, wrinkling up his forehead in a way that Stede can't help but find endearing. His chest aches with something he can't out into words.

"I should go," Ed says quickly, like he'd misunderstood something critical, and hurries to his feet, though Stede knows when he sits too long and stands up too quickly his knee gives him trouble. "Izzy might need a switch off, so—"

"No!" Stede exclaims, heat rising over his cheeks now. "That's not at all what I meant I— You're welcome to stay, is all. You're already here, and Izzy will be fine. Olu and Jim are on deck to help out should he need it, though I doubt he'd let them. That man is a menace," Stede can't help but add.

"Stay here," Ed repeats. "Yeah I guess... I guess I could..."

"You come back for breakfast every morning anyway," Stede says. "I'm sure I could find something for you to sleep in, if you'd like that. Plenty of dressing gowns in this cabin to go around."

Ed smiles fondly, there's no mistaking it for anything else now.

"Might be nice," Ed sats, not breaking Stede's gaze as he says it.

Many long minutes later, they're laying side by side in Stede's bed. It's not a small bed, but it's not wide, either, and he wonders immediately if this had been another in the long list of stupid mistakes he'd make in his life.

But before Stede can think too much about it, Ed yawns hugely, mutters an apology, and turns beside him, shuffling so they're pressed together from shoulder to foot.

It's... well, perfect. Warm and close and comforting in a way Stede never knew to miss. His eyes feel impossibly heavy, suddenly, and before either of them can say anything, drowsiness consumes them both.

****

In the morning, Stede wakes up cocooned in a warmth he knows isn't from blankets alone.

No, Edward Teach is curled around him like some kind of octopus, a comparison Stede thinks he'll keep to himself, thank you very much. Their legs are tangled together beneath all the blankets he'd added to make sure they'd both be warm enough, and Ed's face is pressed against his collarbone, his breathing still slow and even.

For all Ed loved to say he could get by on a series of half-hour cat naps throughout the night, he certainly seems content enough to stay just like this, wrapped around Stede like he his life depended on it, snoring softly as the sun rose and draped the room in soft, warm morning light.

Maybe it did. Maybe both of their lives depended on it.

Stede hadn't given much thought to what it might be like, sleeping beside someone else, someone who wasn't Mary. Now that he had it, though, now that he knew what it could be like, he knows he's not letting it go.

[pinkfadespirit]

Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second for any of the DA2 crew?

Thank you for sending this, it was SO fun to write. I started this a few weeks ago and then @laniardraws sent me the same prompt last week (thank you too!) and I finally decided to come back and finish it tonight. Lani also specified Handers but that’s what I’d already decided to go with. 

I’ve deviated a little from the prompt and decided to go with ‘help my ex just showed up at this bar, please be my fake boyfriend for a second’ with a side helping of ‘Sebastian dumped me for Andraste’ - which, okay, I’m sorry about that. I swear I’m not trying to pick on Sebastian. I’m just having a bit of fun XD

For @dadrunkwriting 

Hawke takes a deep breath. He regrets it fairly soon afterwards, given that he’s currently locked inside a cubicle in The Hanged Man toilets. He’s not entirely sure why, of all the places he could have picked to hide, this was where he’d ended up. But then, he hadn't quite been thinking straight when he'd decided to run. He was on his way to the bar when he'd noticed Sebastian and his preservation instincts had kicked in. It occurs to him that his preservation instincts are a bit shit actually.

It feels safe to say that the Maker has a particularly cruel sense of humour, at least as far at Hawke is concerned. His first night out since he'd calmed down from his initial attempt to either drown his post-break-up sorrows, or distract himself from them by having maybe a little too much fun and here's Sebastian to ruin it. Not intentionally, Hawke assumes, but does that really matter in the outcome is the same?

Has Sebastian been coming here all this time? Has Hawke lost The Hanged Man in the break-up without even realising it? It doesn’t seem fair; The Hanged Man had been his first. Sebastian had never set foot there before Hawke introduced him to the place. Now he's out there in the bar and Hawke’s hiding out in a bloody toilet cubicle with the scent of stale piss and cheap toilet cleaner permeating the air. 

He wonders if he's always been this pathetic. What he needs to do is go out there and pretend he has every right to be there. No. Wait. Why would he have to pretend? He does have every right to be there. More than Sebastian. Well... Not really, but given that he's currently been reduced to hiding like this he thinks he can afford a moment to be petty. But once he's done with that he can go back to being a grown man, more than mature enough to handle bumping into an ex for the first time since they broke up seven months ago.

Seven months. That’s a reasonable amount of time to get over someone, right? Is he over Sebastian? He’d thought so. But seeing him again is bringing up old feelings—more of betrayal than of anything overly romantic, though, so that’s something at least. Honestly, he'd felt fine for several months before this. He’d felt more than ready to move on. And what he'd really love right now is to show Sebastian just how much better off he is without him. That’ll show him.

First things first, Hawke needs to actually leave the cubicle he’s been hiding in. Baby steps, he thinks. He takes a breath, regrets it again, then slides the lock open on the cubicle door.

The next step is probably just to get rather more drunk than he is now, which will have the double effect of making him look like he's having a lot more fun, while making the entire situation just that little bit more bearable. It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to do anything stupid. He doesn’t know why Aveline is looking at him like that from where she sits across the room, as he heads towards the bar. Hawke's a big man, after all. He can handle his booze.  

Thankfully, there seems to be no sign of Sebastian at the moment. There's a second floor to the pub so perhaps he found a table up there. Perhaps he left. But no, Hawke’s not sure he's ever been quite that lucky.

There's a queue at the bar, as there often is on a Friday night. Hawke takes his place at the back of it and tries to avoid glancing furtively about like he might be caught at any moment. Instead he focuses ahead. The lanky blond he’d noticed on the way in is ahead of him in the queue. Hawke can’t see his face but he recognises the ponytail and the gold hoop that hangs from one ear. He distracts himself from panicking about Sebastian by entertaining a brief fantasy about being the kind of person who could approach someone attractive at a bar and actually manage to be charming enough to get a phone number. Wouldn’t that be a nice way to put an end to the wallowing? A date is probably exactly what he needs really. He hasn’t had one in years. But that’s not a thought that inspires confidence in him. He puts it from his mind.

The queue moves forward and eventually Hawke finds himself standing at the bar besides the handsome blond stranger, who is even more handsome up close, now that Hawke can turn his head and attempt to glance surreptitiously at him. Apparently, Hawke doesn’t do surreptitious. The man beside him catches him looking and smiles at him. It’s a good smile, one that shows in his eyes, which are such a pretty shade of amber, Hawke gets lost for a moment just looking in them. And then the word, “Hi,” is out of his mouth before he can stop to think whether a smile at a bar counts as an invitation to start talking to someone he’s never met before.  

“Hi,” the man replies and then, if Hawke’s not mistaken, he gives him a once over, lingering for a moment on the biceps that show under his short sleeves. He doesn’t quite have time to process that before the man adds, “I'm Anders.”

“Hawke,” Hawke replies, wondering if he’d been wrong before and he’s actually a lot luckier than he’d thought. Then he hears the distinctive sound of a Starkhaven accent from somewhere behind him and thinks, actually, maybe not.  

“I think I've just had one of my worst ideas to date,” Hawke tells Anders. “And I’ve had a lot of really bad ideas.”

Anders raises an eyebrow at that. “Alright... This doesn’t sound like any line I’ve had before. Hit me with it.”

Hawke takes a breath. “I need you to be my fake boyfriend for a minute.”

Anders just stares at him for a moment. Then he laughs.  

“There’s a drink in it for you,” Hawke says as Norah finally turns to them with an expectant look from over the bar.  

“Oh. You’re serious,” says Anders, looking rather more baffled now.

“Anything you want. On me,” Hawke insists.  

Anders takes a moment to consider while Norah looks between them impatiently. “Alright then.” Then he just asks for a pint, which is decent of him really, given that he could easily have taken advantage of the ‘anything’ offer.

“Who are we trying to make jealous?” Anders asks as Norah grabs two pint glasses and begins to fill them.  

“It’s not like that!” says Hawke. “Alright it’s a little bit like that. My ex just showed up and I know this doesn’t actually make me any less pathetic than I feel but he doesn’t need to know that.” Anders just smirks at him. And Hawke decides he’s not been quite embarrassing enough for one night so he adds, “He dumped me for Andraste.”

“Huh,” says Anders. “Well, can you really blame him? You must have seen the statues; she was quite a looker.”

Hawke stares at him, halfway through pulling a tenner out of his wallet. “I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy,” he says. “...You’re perfect.”

Anders flashes his teeth in a grin that is, quite frankly, dazzling. Hawke uses the time it takes to pay for their drinks to reflect on what a huge fucking idiot he is. Then he reflects on it some more when they weave their way through the queue that has formed behind them and he sees Sebastian standing back across the room from him and realises he hasn’t thought this plan through at all beyond the ‘acquire fake boyfriend’ stage. Never mind that he knows nothing about Anders beside his name and his potentially concerning interest in statues of Andraste. And everything Anders knows about him Hawke would rather not think about any more than he has to.

“My name’s Garrett, but everyone calls me Hawke,” he begins quickly, not panicking at all (why would he be panicking?) “Everyone being those people over in that corner there. I’m twenty-seven and I have two siblings and a dog named Parsley and –oh shit he’s seen us. What do we do?”

He looks desperately at Anders, whose expression is apparently torn between a confused sort of amusement at Hawke’s hurried biography and a general sense of ‘fuck if I know. This was supposed to be your idea’.

When all Hawke can do is send him a helpless look in return, Anders rolls his eyes. Then he takes the drink Hawke is holding and places it along with his own on the table next to where they are standing. “Is he looking this way?” Anders asks.  

“Yes. Fuck. He’s heading over here.”

“Hawke, look at me for a minute,” says Anders and Hawke looks. Anders is standing in front of him with his hand placed on his shoulders. “Just relax,” he instructs and at first he thinks there's a fat chance of that happening but then he looks into Anders’ warm, amber coloured eyes and there is something quite soothing about the sight of them.  

And then Anders kisses him.  

Anders’ hands glide over shoulders and up to tangle in Hawke’s hair and beard. Hawke’s hands just sort of flop uselessly at his side for a moment while he struggles with the fact that, yes, this is really happening. He takes that moment then reaches up to wrap his arms around Anders’ waist and pull him close. Their lips part and, admittedly, there probably is a bit too much tongue involved for the middle of the room in The Hanged Man (right in front of Sebastian) but Hawke isn’t sure if he cares about that right now. It’s a bloody good kiss. The kind that leaves them both breathless as they finally pull away from each other, chests heaving and eyes wild.  

Hawke’s still sort of dazed when he looks up and realises that Sebastian is still there staring at them in stunned surprise. “Oh. Hi Sebastian,” he says.

“Hawke,” Sebastian replies. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll, er, catch up with you another time.”

Then he turns and quickly heads back to where he’d been standing earlier.  

Hawke looks back at Anders, who picks up his drink and winks at him before taking a sip. “I’m thinking about changing my terms for this arrangement.”

Hawke blinks at him. “Your terms?”

“I’d say that was worth more than a drink, wouldn’t you? Dinner, at least.”  

“Dinner?” Hawke repeats. “You mean... like a date?”

Things are rapidly reconsidering his earlier assessment of this evening. Perhaps he really is luckier than he thought.

“You catch on quick, Hawke,” says Anders with a smirk.

“I could do that,” says Hawke. “I mean, I’d love to.”

Anders’ face breaks out in another dazzling grin and Hawke thinks that there’s no ‘perhaps’ about it; he’s as lucky as they come.