#ellie aosc

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 26: Radio Silence

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

It’s one in the afternoon when Ed finally trudges back to his apartment with a giant headache and feeling no better than he had before. He knew it would be a bad idea to see Jack. How long had this bender been? Ed shrugs to himself. Who would even care?

He heads straight to his room and plugs his phone into the charger before depositing himself on the bed. He stares at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself. Hoping that maybe with the couple days of distance, he and Stede can… start over? Ed doesn’t know if he wants that. He doesn’t know if he can just be Stede’s friend.

He doesn’t know if he can be who Stede needs him to be right now.

His phone starts buzzing like crazy, and Ed squints and picks it up as it begins to charge. He’s hit with a flood of notifications. Texts, missed calls from the whole crew, Izzy, numbers he doesn’t even recognize.

He sits up and isn’t even sure where to begin. Text after text begging him to pick up his phone. Did they think Ed was in trouble? It was nice to be cared about.

Out of habit, he opens his favorite blog, wondering what Stede has been up to.

That is the last peaceful thought he has for a long time.

The blog post. The group chat notifications. The texts from Izzy. And of course, from Stede.

Stede: ok, i understand Stede: i wont bother you anymore, ed Stede: dont feel bad, nothing was your fault

Holy fucking shit.

He doesn’t even think to do anything else, dialing Stede’s number on repeat, getting frustrated with each failure to pick up. He can’t call anyone else, what if Stede calls him back? With furious tears he shoots off a desperate message.

Ed: Stede mate pick up the phonr

There’s a pause of a good two minutes as Ed dials and redials and dials and redials. Then…

Stede: i don't feel like talking

Thank fuck.

Ed: im sorry for everything, tell me where you are and ill come get you

Stede: i cant Stede: it's too far

Ed: too far from ehat

Stede: i don't want people to see me Stede: i don't want to hear i told you so anymore Stede: tell them to stop flooding my phone Stede: please

Ed: pcik up the phone Ed: talk to me

Stede: if I tell you where i am will you tell everypne

Ed: ill come get you

Stede: i don't want mary and the kids to be scared

Ed: why do you think they'd be scared

Stede: can you come alone

Should Ed go alone? Should he bring someone, an ambulance, he’s not trained for this, he doesn’t know how to…

Ed: yes Ed: anything man

Stede: ok Stede: im at pigeon point

Ed: the lighthouse?

Stede: yes

Ed: im coming there now, will you call me and stay on the phone so I can hear that you're safe?

Stede: I cant

Ed: will you wait for me to get down there?

Stede: i think Stede: 2 hours Stede: cant wait anymore

Ed: dont fuckjnf move

Ed shoots off a quick text to Lucius telling him that he’ll have more information soon, and books it for his bike. He doesn’t have time to call anyone else. They’ll have to find out about it later.

He tears off from his parking spot, grateful that he can weave in and out of traffic on his bike. Pigeon point is an hour’s drive from his location.

Fifty minutes later, Ed pulls up to the parking lot outside of the lighthouse, spotting Stede’s car as he turns into the parking lot. It looks empty, dark. Ed parks his bike and runs towards it, hoping to search for a sign of where Stede might have gone. Luckily, he doesn’t have to.

Stede is in the driver’s seat, bent over, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. For a moment Ed thinks that he’s passed out, or… worse… but when he approaches the window Stede turns his head to glance at him before reaching over to unlock the passenger-side door. Ed walks around the car and slips inside.

“Stede… oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up before, I can explain-”

“Don’t.” Stede’s forehead is still against the steering wheel. He’s looking straight ahead, eyes red, voice shaky. “You don’t have to. I’m too tired to listen.”

“Let me drive you home, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

Stede slowly shakes his head. “Fuck, I’m so messed up, Ed.” He puts his head in his hands. Ed places a hand on Stede’s back, moving it back and forth, and Stede shudders at the touch.

“You aren’t messed up, Stede. Your life is messed up. That isn’t you.”

“You don’t… you don’t know. It’s nice of you to want to see the best in me. You’re the only one who does, I think. But it doesn’t matter. It’s all fallen apart and I can’t fix it.” Stede is crying now.

“Just talk to me, okay? Get it out. I’ll listen.”

“It’s just… why?” Stede wipes tears from his eyes, which look like they’re made of glass. “Why did I have to go and prove them all right? Do you know how hard I’ve tried? I did everything right. I gave up everything that made me happy to prove them wrong. And I still couldn’t.”

“Wrong about what?”

“I can’t…” He swallows and shakes his head. “I’m… gay. I’ve always been gay. And everyone knew it but me. Everyone.”

Ed scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean… yeah… we kind of did. But it isn’t a bad thing…” His voice trails off as Stede begins to sob harder.

“You don’t understand. It’s something good to you. But to me it’s…” Stede searches for the right word. “It’s failure. It was the one thing I had to prove them all wrong about me. I had pride in defying their expectations because… god… I’ve failed to meet expectations my whole life, Ed. Every time. But I put everything on this. I wasn’t going to fail. But I did.”

“Being gay isn’t a failing, Stede. I’m gay, most of your friends are gay. Do you think they’re failures for that?”

“No, but…” He rocks forward and back a little. “If they’re right about this, if I am who they say I am… they must be right about everything else.”

“You’re wrong. They aren’t.”

“How do you know? How do I know? I don’t know anything about myself. I’m nothing. I’m broken and I’ve always been broken.”

“You aren’t broken because you’re gay, Stede.”

“I’m broken because I’m me.” Stede whispers as he places his forehead back on the steering wheel, gripping the bottom of it so hard his knuckles turn white.

“I don’t think you’re broken.” I love who you are.

“You don’t have to live with me every day. You don’t have to think these thoughts. And I’m happy for you, Ed.” He closes his eyes. “No one should have to feel this way. I’m glad Mary is leaving me. I’ll give her everything. They are going to be so happy without me.”

“Stede…”

“Ed.” Stede sighs and finally looks over. “I'm sorry that I fucked everything up between us.”

“Why are we here, Stede? What are you planning?” Ed moves his hand to Stede’s shoulder and grips it, hard. He knows the answer to his own question, and is confident that he can stop it. But it breaks his heart all the same.

“I was… I was going to drive off the cliff.” Ed nods and looks ahead at the water. “Or drive into the water from the beach. I read… drowning, it feels good. It’s peaceful. It’s the way I’ve always imagined doing it.”

Ed squeezes his shoulder harder. “How often have you imagined… doing it?”

“Oh, you know…” Stede sniffs and waves his hand. “Everyone does from time to time.”

Ed shakes his head. “No, Stede. They don’t. That isn’t normal.”

“Well, I’m not fucking normal, am I? That’s the problem.”

Ed snorts. “I don’t want you to be normal. I love you for who you are. I wish you loved yourself the same way.”

Stede’s eyes well up with tears again and he sobs quietly, placing his hand on the one gripping his shoulder.

Ed pulls him in for a hug, and Stede buries his face in Ed's shoulder and shivers.

"You know now that there's no way I'm gonna let you do this, right? I'm not leaving this car."

“I… I know. ” Stede chokes with a whisper. “I texted you.”

“You did. You texted me and told me where to find you and you waited. That means something."

Stede sighs and holds on to Ed even tighter. “I think… I need a favor.”

“Anything. Anything at all, you name it, long as it involves me driving you out of here.”

“I think this is my last… I don’t have any other options.”

“Tell me what you need, man.”

“I need… help? I can’t stop thinking about it… You make me feel brave enough to… do something better. No one else cares.”

Ed feels tears running down his face. “That isn’t true, that’s your brain lying to you. There are a whole lot of people who care about you.”

“I don't want to get help for them, Ed. I know that’s bad, but I just want you."

“You have me, Stede. Always. You believe that, right?”

Stede pulls away and wipes his eyes. He gives an exhausted smile.

“I think so.” He bites his lower lip and looks out at the ocean. “I think… I think I need to go to a hospital.”

Ed processes this for a second and then nods.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, mate. We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

“Will you… will you come with me? Your bike…”

“Fuck the bike.” Ed gets out of the car and walks around to open Stede’s door. “Move over, I’m driving you.” He waves his hands in a “move” motion, because there is no way Ed is letting Stede out of the car until they are somewhere safe.

Stede awkwardly lifts his legs one at a time to move over the center console, and Ed slides into the driver’s seat, turning on the car’s child locks pointedly.

“Do you want to… listen to music?” Ed asks as he starts the car.

“No.” Stede shakes his head. “I don’t.” Ed squeezes Stede’s knee and begins to drive in silence. Stede rests his head against the passenger-side window and within minutes is asleep, leaving Ed to drive silently with a mixture of terror at losing the best thing in his life and the relief at saving him, if only for now.

Chapter 27

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery: Chapter List

Note: Content warnings for the entire fic are posted in this chapter only. Individual chapters will be tagged.

The tag for this fic is #ellie aosc.

Rating: Teen

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Relationships: Stede Bonnet/Edward Teach

This Fic Contains: A LOT of angst with a happy ending. Emotional Whump, Stede POV, primarily Stede angst. Stede is written from an autistic perspective in a fic (which was accidental, because I started writing this before I was diagnosed and thought what Stede was going through was normal).

Content/Trigger Warnings: Bullying/Homophobia/Slurs (from Badmintons and Stede’s dad), Mental Illness, Depression, Alcohol Abuse, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Hospitalisation

Fic Prompt: "modern au where Ed is the owner of the rage room and one day Stede comes in after a very stressful day at work, pays 40 minutes for the room, breaks things for 20 minutes and then cries for another 20 minutes" @EDWARDSSTEACH on Twitter

This fic contains a lot of music and references to music. All of the songs mentioned in this fic can be found on the Spotify playlist linked in the reblob in the order they appear. More songs will be added as fic progresses.

Chapter 1:  An Animated Description of Mr. Maps

Chapter 2: Katie Cruel

Chapter 3: My Secret Friend

Chapter 4: Eat the Rich (Drink Wine from their Skulls)

Chapter 5: Goodnight

Chapter 6: Poi E

Chapter 7: Welly Boots

Chapter 8: Spiraling and Honesty

Chapter 9: Spooky Scary Skeletons

Chapter 10: Hellfire and Fuckery

Chapter 11: Nostos

Chapter 12: Directions

Chapter 13: Good Cop, Bad Cop

Chapter 14: Guardian

Chapter 15: Rubber Biscuit

Chapter 16: The Black Mare

Chapter 17: The Day that the World Breaks Down

Chapter 18: Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)

Chapter 19: I Wish

Chapter 20: ‘Di Na Muli

Chapter 21: Elegy

Chapter 22: Blackbird

Chapter 23: S.O.S. from an Earthling in Distress

Chapter 24: Duat

Chapter 25: The Chain

Chapter 26: Radio Silence

Chapter 27: 5150

Chapter 28: Warrior Heart

Chapter 29: The Means to Preserve

Chapter 30: The Monarch

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 24: Duat

Please read content/trigger warnings at this link before proceeding with this chapter. Chapters 24-27 deal with some heavy concepts that aren't suitable for everyone.

Mary: Give any thought to moving back in?

Stede: yeah, i just need some time, i need to think and process things.

Mary: You have children who need to spend time with you, Stede. Mary: Don’t forget them.

Stede: i know Stede: they wouldn’t like to see me like this

Mary: Someone should. Don’t just hide away.

Stede: thank you

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Sorriderai, nulla ha più senso ora, no, e girerò le città ma non ti scorderò!

Comments: YetAnotherGiantBassist: WandeRection, get Jim to tell me what this means, I don’t understand Spanish. TheRealWande: That’s Frenchie. And That’s Italian. YetAnotherGiantBassist: Is it French, or Italian?

---

Jack lets out a monstrous burp, and Ed wakes with a jolt.

“What day is it?” He asks, rubbing his temples.

“Who cares?” Jack tosses him another beer. “It’s a holiday somewhere. I’ve got 'em all on a calendar.” Jack points to a wrinkled calendar on the wall. Ed approaches it and squints.

“International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women,” he reads.

“Fuuuuuck Eddie, of course you pick the most boring one. What about National Parfait Day. You’d eat a parfait, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Unless it’s National Cake Day now. Do some whippies with me and we might make it all the way to National Craft Jerky Day.”

“I am not doing whippets with you, what am I, thirteen?” Ed cracks open the beer.

“I got lines.”

“How can you afford that? Wait, I don’t want to know.”

Jack smirks at Ed. “Why are you really here, big guy? Pretty sure you can afford better shit than I got. Hell, you should be buyin’.”

Ed shrugs. “Just wanted some company, I guess.”

“Wait, your buddy Izzy Hands isn’t good enough company for you?” He bursts out laughing. “Just kidding, he’s the worst.”

“Yeah, he fuckin’ is.”

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

fuck i’ve fucked up my life

Comments: WandeRection: There there man, you haven’t, you’ve got all sorts of mates trying to help you. MauritianSupremacy: Check your texts!

---

Stede: ed Stede: im sorry Stede: i made a mistake, i should have stayed and talked Stede: i think you were right Stede: it just fucking hurts so much, im so tired all the time Stede: you were a good friend ed, i hope you find someone who can be who you deserve them to be

---

Israel Hands sighs as he looks around at the mess. Supervision is supposed to be his talent, the one thing he does right in this god-forsaken job. But once again it’s all gone sideways under his watch.

He snaps at a kid to bring in the garbage cans, no not the little ones, the big gray fu-cans, please, and goes searching for his cleanup crew.

Nowhere to be found, of course. It’s Thanksgiving, and the Los Robles kids, current and former, get together to prepare and give meals to people at various shelters throughout the weekend. Builds character. Feeds people. Gives Izzy a fucking headache.

He rounds a corner and spots the duo of idiots who are supposed to be cleaning up this mess. Having an argument, as usual.

“Give him some privacy, amigo, his heart is broken!”

“Jim, he stopped using punctuation and capitals! This goes way beyond broken-hearted drunk posting.” Wande crosses his arms.

“If the idiota doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t have to talk!”

“Stede’s alone, Jim. Nobody can get in contact with him.” Izzy stops at the sound of the name. Fucking Stede Bonnet. Couldn’t be anyone else, could it?

“Would you two get to work? This place is a fucking mess.”

Wande looks up guiltily. “Sorry, Iz. It’s just that… we think our friend might be… a bit suicidal?” Jim crosses their arms and rolls their eyes.

“Oh yeah? Who’s your friend?” Please not him, please don’t make me deal with this.

Izzy knows that he is not a pleasant person. He is abrasive and mean and angry and it’s gotten him into trouble many times. But what keeps Izzy in his line of work is what he calls his complex. He’s really good at dealing with mental health crises. He can’t hear about one or see one without wanting to take charge and set things in order again, especially for someone who is incapable of setting themselves in order.

Usually.

He might have fucked it up with Ed last night, of course. Maybe. But he’s definitely not feeling guilty about it, at all. Ed had that conversation coming. Absolutely. Most definitely. Zero guilt on Izzy’s part.

Wande sighs and turns to him. “It’s our friend Stede, yeah? He’s a… well, he’s gone through a lot of shit recently, like, losing everything and everyone he’s loved, yeah?”

Jim sighs. “Show him the video, tonto.”

Wande nods. “And this happened yesterday, yeah? All over the ‘net, now. And nobody can find him, he’s just disappeared. Keeps posting sad shit on his blog, won’t talk to no one.”

Don’t watch it, don’t get sucked in to this rich asshole’s bullshit, don’t watch it-

He watches it. The bottom drops out his stomach. He grabs his phone and looks up.

“I told you two to clean this shit up. I’ll deal with this.”

---

Izzy: Edward, pick up your phone Izzy: I know you’re pissed at me, be pissed at me later, I’m serious Izzy: Your mate Stede is in serious crisis, I need to know where he is Izzy: Don’t fucking tell me you’re with Jack or some bullshit, pick up your fucking phone.

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

im only making it worse

Comments: TheRealWande: You got someone who can hang out with you right now? What about DreadNordGreybeard?

---

Ed and Jack have their backs on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Some people call ‘em planks, or ladders, or french fries…”

Ed scrunches his face. “No they fuckin’ don’t, mate, that’s stupid.”

“They aren’t stupid, you old buzzkill, they’re fun. You’ve got chicken feed, love boat, disco biscuit…”

“Are you seriously telling me you go up to dealers and ask for some disco biscuit?”

“Not since I got banned from all the clubs within walking distance.” Jack sighs happily.

Ed looks over at Jack. “And this… is the life? You enjoy it?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I enjoy it? I do whatever I want. Nobody tells me what to do. I don’t have to answer to anybody.”

Ed returns his gaze to the ceiling, watching it move back and forth in a dizzy wave.

“Don’t you ever get lonely, Jack?”

“Lonely? I can get laid anytime, Eddie.” Jack pauses for a minute. “Why? You lonely?”

“I guess I am.”

“You wanna do something about it?”

Ed considers it for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “No. Pass the ‘bicycle parts,’ mate.”

“Suit yourself.” Jack hands over the Xanax and Ed takes a pill and sighs.

They lay there in silence.

“Okay, now I’m pretty sure it’s National Craft Jerky Day.”

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

relieve me leave me here im dying

Comments: PracticallyGayJesus: Where are you, man? This isn’t funny.

---

Stede: please reply even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off Stede: ok, i understand Stede: i wont bother you anymore, ed Stede: dont feel bad, nothing was your fault

Chapter 25

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 25: The Chain

Please read content/trigger warnings at this link before proceeding with this chapter. Chapters 24-27 deal with some heavy concepts that aren't suitable for everyone.

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

I'd like to say that I never thought I would be making this post, but the fact is it's all I think about now.

I know I don't have many readers. Maybe none now. But sharing this bit of myself has kept my head above water for so long. I can't describe how much it's meant to me to have that opportunity. I haven't had it elsewhere in my life. And now it's time for me to post my last. I can't keep this up, any of it. But I want it to live on.

I've put the details for accessing this blog somewhere where someone I care about can find it. I really hope someone picks up where I left off. It would be such a gift to have it continue on and know it's safe. It's the only fucking thing I have anymore.

If you're reading this, I hope you find the happiness I have searched for. I hope some songs here make you smile. I hope they make the world more beautiful for you. You deserve it.

I guess I'll send this post off with one last song. I've always liked it. It's The Chain by Kobra and the Lotus.

-Stede was here

Comments: LucyFlawless: Stede pick up your damn phone WandeRection: man, if you're reading this, call me PracticallyGayJesus: call Lucy, we'll hang out man, maybe you-know-who will come? BlueSwedeShoes86: I can post on the blog, I know lots of music

Chapter 26

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 23: SOS from an Earthling in Distress

Note: Sorry for posting so many chapters of this recently, been trying to catch up with Ao3. Officially have caught up as of this chapter, so will be posting along with ao3 from here on out until the fic is done. I hope to have it finished by the end of next week. Please read the content warnings linked below, this chapter contains things in the warnings.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Summary: Stede visits the rage room hoping to see Ed, but someone else is waiting for him. Ed visits Jack.

Stede sighs as he posts another entry to his blog. It isn’t fun for him anymore. But people are reading it, so he keeps posting. He begins the walk from the garage to the hotel, a large glint of purple appearing in the corner of his eye and he looks up. It’s him. And it.

Buttons and his Mystery Machine.

It would be better to call it the van for the Los Robles group home, but it’s a huge, purple monstrosity, impossible to miss, even for someone who is supremely distracted. The weird conglomeration of seagulls that follow it around do not help.

They’re right between the garage and the hotel. Stede sighs. That means he’ll have to acknowledge him.

“Hey… Buttons?”

“Aye, it’s me.” Buttons looks Stede up and down, then glances at the seagull on his shoulder. “Karl says ye look like hell.”

“Yeah, well, Happy Thanksgiving to Karl.” Stede sighs, preparing to move around him.

Buttons holds out a hand and stops him.

“Yer making a mistake, laddie.”

How does Buttons know what Stede is doing? Stede doesn’t even know what Stede is doing.

“Everything I do is a mistake, Buttons, let me go?”

“Nah,” Buttons throws open the door to his van. “The best thing for you is to be with friends.”

“I don’t want to be with friends. I want to be alone.”

“Ye never took me to rage, did ye?” Buttons beckons into the van. Olivia the seagull is perched on a headrest. She looks at Stede and cocks her head. “Ye took Swede of all people, but no me.”

“It’s Thanksgiving, Buttons, the rage room isn’t open. This isn’t a good idea.”

“Ye think ol’ Ed celebrates tha’ colonist keech?” Buttons tugs on Stede’s sleeve. “It’s open. I checked.”

And somehow, Stede finds himself on the way toBlackbeard’s Breakery, the last place he wants to be.

What will he say to Ed? After… after he did what he did?

You’re gay, you idiot. You fucking idiot, you were gay the whole time.

Stede has spent the last two days in the misery of acceptance, of learning something about himself he dedicated all of his energy to never knowing. And if he had figured this out just a few days earlier… but he fucked it up. He scared Ed away.

But his imagination runs all the same, the same thread, just a little bit.

So by the time he arrives at the rage room, he feels a bit of anticipation mixed with his apprehension. They can talk it through, right? They can… it’s best to start with talking. Maybe talk through the hurt. Stede forces himself not to imagine anything else happening after that, not yet.

“Go see if yer man is in.” Buttons practically shoves Stede out of the car while he seeks a place to park his van.

The sixteenth time Stede visits the rage room, he trudges towards the building, head down, sorry for being in such a sorry state, and opens the door.

It’s Fang at the counter.

“Hey, Stede! Not celebrating Thanksgiving?”

“I had dinner early with the family. You?”

Fang shakes his head. “Nah, pilgrims never did anything I’d be thankful for. Fuck ‘em. Right?”

“Er, right. Is Ed… around?”

Fang shakes his head. “Nah, he’s out with Jack, probably won’t show his face around here for a while.”

“Oh.” The wheels in Stede’s head are rusty and slow, but they’re turning. “Who… is Jack? I haven’t heard of him.”

Fang shrugs. “He’s Ed’s old boyfriend. Ed gets with him every few years and it’s a mess. Best to stay out of the whole thing, even if you’re his friend.” Fang grabs a rag to wipe down the counter.

Stede watches him for a bit. His heart feels like it’s leaking down through his body.

You’re too late. You fucked it up. You will never not fuck it up. You know this. Why did you try? Stupid fucking fool.

“Stede?” Fang’s voice brings him back a bit. “You want some time in the room?”

“Uh, let me check with… I brought a friend. Let me ask.” Stede backs out of the room.

“He never wants to rage when I’m here,” Fang mutters to himself as the door closes.

Stede sighs and decides to make his excuses to Buttons… and Karl… and of course Olivia, who is Karl’s… wife? Girlfriend?

Fuck, even the bird can maintain a marriage better than I can.

“Baby fucking Bonnet.” Stede closes his eyes. He’s hearing things.

He isn’t hearing things. He isn’t that far gone.

He turns around.

Chauncey Badminton is leaning against his car with his arms crossed. There is no playful jeer on his face. It’s a serious look. A look that Stede told himself he didn’t need to worry about anymore.

“Chauncey, what the fuck?” He asks tiredly, though he doesn’t really want to know the answer to whatever he’s asking.

Chauncy draws himself to full height and approaches Stede.

“You thought you could just get off scotch-free, just like that, did you?”

Stede surprises himself by giggling. “In what universe does anything that has happened to me count as getting off scotch-free? Are you out of your mind?”

“You and your faggot friends maimed my brother. And the stunt you pulled at the funeral-”

“What happened to Nigel was an accident. Everyone saw it. And it’s none of my business how I choose to honor my mother at her funeral.”

Chauncey steps even closer. Stede knows he could find Buttons and run, but what’s the point? It hasn’t worked before. All his running has led Chauncey here. To Ed’s disgusting strip mall.

No one from his old life belongs in this sacred place.

“You’ve been a blight on your family since the day you were born. A blight on your father’s company since he lowered himself to take you on.”

“And? I’ve lost my family, I’ve left the company. You won, Chauncey. You have everything you want. Why did you follow me here?”

“Did you really think your father would just leave you alone after all of this nonsense? That he wouldn’t just work harder? Send us… further afield.”

Stede scrunches up his face. “Hesent youafter me? Seriously? It’s Thanksgiving ,Chauncey. We are grown men. It’s time to live our lives.”

Chauncey chuckles. “So you can humiliate your father by prancing around with queers in... gay bars or wherever you lot go? Have you even admitted it to your family? To yourself?”

Stede takes a step forward, now. “That I’m gay? That I’m a gay man? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Chauncey stops and glares at him.

Stede continues. “Earth to whoever is listening! No one cares that I am gay! No one cares that I like men, Chauncey! Just you and your creepy brother and my homophobic shitstain of a father. Nobody who matters gives a fuck-”

Chauncey grabs Stede by the front of the shirt and slams him against the wall of the rage room.

“Finally admitted it, fag-boy? Decades of picking flowers, and crying, and being pathetic and weak didn’t tip you off? What did? Was it the fact that your wife never loved you?”

Stede swallows hard.

“What about the fact that no one at work could stand to look at you? Hours and hours, day in, day out. Was that a clue?”

Stede shakes his head. “Fuck off.”

“You think by switching teams, someone will magically want you? Someone will want to tolerate you? I give them five minutes. Five minutes before they’re begging you to go back home. We’re the only ones who could ever put up with you for long.”

The bell on the door clangs as Fang makes his way out of Blackbeard’s Breakery. Stede catches his eye, feeling hot waves of humiliation rising.

“Hey! Bald fuck!” Fang yells. “Get off my property! You can’t just assault people here.”

“He’s not a person!” Chauncey spits back, “He’s fucking Stede Bonnet.”

Chauncey grabs Stede by the cheek and violently turns his head, forcing their eyes to meet.

“You ruined everything. Everyone. The only thing left to ruin is yourself.”

“Let him go, now,” Fang’s voice is closer.

“Oh shut up, you leather-fucking fag, I’ll do whatever I want to-”

Stede’s eyes snap shut and he only hears the flapping of wings, feels a release from Chauncey’s grip. And hears the scream.

“What the fuck? Is that... Karl?” Fang asks.

Stede opens his eyes.

Chauncey is sprawling backwards, screaming in agony, the seagull’s talons sunk into his right eye. Fantastic aim, really. Chauncey reaches up to try to swat Karl off, and Karl loosens a talon to scratch at his face in return.

Stede shoots his arms up like he has a gun pointed on him. As if he caused the bird to attack.

Fuck, I did make the bird attack him, Karl was defending me, this is my fault. Can birds get rabies? What if they call animal control? What if they put him down? Buttons will never forgive…

“I guess I should call an ambulance. Animal control? No, ambulance.” he hears Fang say as the bell for the shop door rings.

Stede takes a few steps back, and then turns around to run. He runs straight into Buttons, who is laughing like a maniac.

“That’s what we call the ol’ fuck-eye!” Buttons says with glee.

And this is what we call the ol’ panic attack, Stede thinks to himself as he forces his way around Buttons and runs off into the night.

---

Ed takes a deep breath and throws open the door to Jack’s disgusting apartment.

“Eddie! Come to see ol’ Jacky, then?” Ed can practically smell the alcohol from where he’s standing. It’s gross. It’s crude.

It’s exactly what he thinks he needs.

“Guess so, man, what you got goin’ on?”

“What else?” Jack opens and begins to chug a can of Natty Ice. He finishes and laughs. “Get a few of these in and we’ll move on to the good stuff.”

“Yeah, what you got?”

“We can light up later,” Jack smiles. “If I recall, you were a fan of the handlebars, weren’t you, you old bastard? Got some of them, too.”

“Yeah… that sounds…” Ed looks down at his phone, secretly hoping for a text from someone, anyone. A sign that this is a bad idea.

No messages. And fuck, the battery’s at 15 percent.

“Got a charger for this, man?” Ed asks, holding his phone up for Jack.

Jack bursts into laughter. “An Android? You think I’ve got an Android charger? What kind of loser has one of those?” Ed sighs and puts the phone in his pocket. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya, Eddie, you won’t need that old worthless shit when you’re partying with me, anyway.”

Ed’s got his sign. He grabs his first beer and chugs.

“Eddie, I’m gonna get you so trashed you’ll forget the last six months of your damn life.”

Ed slams the empty can on Jack’s dirty coffee table. “That’s the idea mate, that’s the idea.”

---

Excerpt from blog Hear Something Weird:

Why do I live, why do I die? Why do I laugh, why do I cry? Here is the S.O.S. From an earthling in distress

I've never had my feet on the ground I would have rather been a bird I feel wrong in my own skin

I would love to see the world upside down To see if it were more beautiful More beautiful from above Above

I've always confused real life With comic books I desire a metamrphosis I feel something Attracting me, attracting me, attracting me towards the sky

In the great lottery of the universe I didn't choose the right numbers I feel wrong in my own skin

I don't want to be a robot Subway, job, sleep

Why do I live, why do I die? Why do I scream, why do I cry? I think I'm picking up waves Coming from another world

I've never had my feet on the ground I would have rather been a bird I feel wrong in my own skin

I would love to see the world upside down I would have rather been a bird Sleep now child, sleep

Comments: BlueSwedeShoes86: i like songs about aliens WandeRection: So definitely doing lyrics then LucyFlawless: You’re missing all kinds of great fun in the group chat, babe, maybe text me back sometime?

---

Unknown Number: Hey, you don’t know me, I got your number from Buttons. You know him, right? You wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything wild going on outside Blackbeard’s this afternoon, would you? Something that could have been picked up on a security camera?

Fang: Who is this?

Unknown Number: I’m a friend of Stede. And Ed. Unknown Number: You can call me Lucy.

Fang: It’s Lucius though, right? I heard about you.

Unknown Number: Answer my question and I’ll let you feel about me too.

Fang: I might have a specific recording saved from today. What do you want with it?

Unknown Number: Revenge, obviously. Righteous justice and all that.

Fang: Where should we meet?

Chapter 24

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 22: Blackbird

Summary: Not all gay awakenings are positive, and not all reactions to rejection are healthy.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

---

I opened the door. I followed the lead. They said you just have to move towards the light. Say, ‘Hello. I am a gay man. My name is Stede.’

My mind wrote a letter my heart couldn’t read. A heart confused, misused, shamed, and contrite. So I opened the door. I followed the lead.

Is this how it feels to be freed? To accept who I am, what my forebears would indict? Saying, ‘Hello. I am a gay man. My name is Stede.’

Waking up gay, a gay awakening, is this what I need? Then why does my heart hurt, my chest still feel tight Since I opened the door and followed the lead?

A mirror, I practice, repeating my screed. But my expression remains the same, try as I might. ‘Hello. I am a gay man. My name is Stede.’

‘It’s too late,’ it threatens, it chokes like a weed. Self-acceptance is a resignation, a reaction born from spite. But I opened the door. I followed the lead. Hello. I am a gay man. My name is Stede.

---

Stede doesn’t respond to Ed’s text. Not through the night or the next day. The blog post is angry, sad. Ed assumes that something happened with Stede’s father, but Stede isn’t asking Ed for comfort. He doesn’t want Ed’s love, or his friendship.

Ed was an idiot. Again.

And being an idiot, he does what he’s always done and calls Izzy. His voice is already breaking as Izzy answers the phone.

“What is it, Edward?”

“I’m so stupid, Izzy. I did it.”

“Did what?”

“I kissed him.”

“Fucking hell, Ed! I told you. Why would you do that?”

“I… I love him.”

“For fuck’s sake, this happens every time. And he rejected you, didn’t he?”

Ed feels so small. He can barely get it out. “Mmhmm.”

“And I’m supposed to drop everything and comfort you ,again, is that it?”

“Come on Izzy, you’re my friend. That’s what friends are for.”

“You have no fuckin’ clue about friendship, Ed. You drop me as soon as someone shiny and new comes along, and then I have to fix it when they leave. Every time! Do you know how draining it is?”

“I… I can guess.”

“You can guess, but you don’t know. I’ve been divorced twice, Ed. What were you doing both times?”

Ed sighs. “I don’t know, what do you want me to say, Iz?”

“You were too busy doing drugs with Jack to be there for me, weren’t you?”

Ed is silent for a few seconds. “Yeah.”

“Go to a gay bar, find someone who actually likes you back, get a therapist, I don’t care what you do. But it’s time to grow up. It’s time to figure it out for yourself. I have shit going on.” Izzy hangs up.

Tough love. Ed’s mind immediately thinks of Stede’s father. Then Stede. Then hurt.

Logically he knows not to blame Izzy. Ed has always taken from Izzy. He’s never given back, not where it counts. Anonymous donations to Los Robles didn’t count for much if they were anonymous.

It’s at this moment that Ed realizes that despite all the encouragement he gave to Stede, Ed doesn’t really know what a friend does, either.

---

Mary: Did you meet with the estate lawyer?

Stede: Yes.

Mary: And?

Stede: It should be airtight. Preparing for lawsuit anyway.

Mary: You know I’m not going to ask for any of it in the divorce, Stede. The timing is just bad.

Stede: You are entitled to it and you will have it.

Stede: You deserve it. For everything.

Mary: See you tomorrow @ 11?

Stede: yeah

---

Thanksgiving. So much to be thankful for. Right?

Maybe.

He manages to make it through the dinner all right. He’s quiet, but that’s okay. It gives him a chance to listen to Alma and Louis bicker a little bit, to see the drawings they’ve done and tell him about school. He can hear about Mary’s art show, which of course was a success, and he can feel a tiny bit of gratitude as she takes care to talk around any mentions of Doug.

At one point Alma pointedly asks Stede what he’s been up to, and he’s a bit at a loss to answer her.

“Well… I’ve been thinking a lot, I suppose.”

“That sounds boring.”

Stede huffs. “I haven’t had a lot of time to think recently, Alma. Sometimes it’s nice to take a break.”

“You could take a break here with us.” Alma looks down at her food, pushing her green beans around with her fork.

Stede puts his hand on hers. “I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart. I just need a little time to myself.”

“I thought that’s what you had work for.”

Stede shakes his head. “No, not even a little bit.”

When they finish, Stede isn’t too far in his own head yet, so he manages to clean up, do the dishes, to look around at the kitchen that he no longer considers to be his. He never considered any of this to be his, really. It’s as if he’s just been borrowing it.

He finishes up and slides on his coat, prepared to sneak out of one life that isn’t his into another life he hasn’t made yet. But Mary spots him.

“Stede… you don’t have to run away, you know? You can stay here. You can live here with us for now. Let me help you.”

Stede stops to think about this, if just for a moment. He imagines living as a ghost in his own home, too afraid to face his wife, his children. He imagines sitting on his bed, confessing everything to Mary, everything he feels. And in this imagination, they have a wonderful talk, one that solves and clarifies everything. Like it’s so easy. And Stede leaves the house, in his imagination, with new-found purpose as he reaches Ed’s apartment, knocks on the door, says those three words, and they embrace and live happily ever after.

In his imagination.

But Stede is a useless, pathetic coward. And his dreams will never come true.

So he gives a wan smile instead, tells Mary, “Okay, I’ll think about it,” and gets in his car.

Stede has always felt safest personifying inanimate objects. His hotel room has a minibar. He tells himself that’s the only friend he needs.

---

Ed: hey

Jack: hey you unblocked me

Jack: ya getting lonely big guy

Ed: what if i am

Jack: door’s always open

Ed: you really gotta lock that shit

Ed: on my way

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Now you remind me of something I’ll never have So, blackbird don’t sing

Comments: MauritianSupremacy: Hey, we’re planning to take you out for drinks, you left the group chat. Check your texts PracticallyGayJesus: lucy told me to tell you we miss you LucyFlawless: That was not the way to deliver that message, babe

Chapter 23

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 21: Elegy

Summary: Ed and Stede make bold choices. See how it works out for them.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

The only cure for a raging hangover is further rage.

At least, that’s what Stede said after Ed had dropped him off at his hotel to get what he needed for his mother’s funeral. It was a quick ride back to the room for Ed to open up (though if Ed doesn’t actually open it up to the public for the day and plans for them to have the place to themselves, no one will know).

And thus, the fifteenth time Stede enters Blackbeard’s Breakery it is with a dress bag containing an expensive suit, sunglasses covering his eyes, and a plea to leave the lights off.

Ed has all the safety gear at the ready, but when Stede sees it he shakes his head.

“Have to wear the gear to rage, Stede.”

Stede sighs. “Can I just sit? In the room, instead?”

Ed scoops the goggles and other gear back into the bin. “You can do that, too. Music?”

“Something quiet. I just want to think.”

Stede makes his way in and sits down. After a few seconds he looks expectantly at the camera.

“Did you want me to join you, mate?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty awkward otherwise, isn’t it?” Ed chuckles and heads in. He hopes Stede has been thinking about things. He hopes they’re on the same page. Ed has never been more ready to take his life in any direction as he is now. His days of aimless existing are drawing to a close.

They find themselves sitting quietly on the ground in an empty room. It’s quiet, dark. Soft music plays through the speakers. Alive by Kisnou begins. Ed had fallen asleep to that song on repeat the previous night. It feels… right.

I will dive into you I’ll sail in this love that’s true

Ed smiles. “You know, I never expected my life to take a turn like this.”

Stede looks at him and smiles. “Has it? Taken a turn?”

Translucent waves Cover me oh beautiful In the waters of your grace

“Well, yeah. New friends, new future. Feelin’ new things, tryin’ new experiences. Feels good.”

“I know that… well, it feels good for me, too. Despite everything else. The new people part.” Stede’s ears turn red as they always do.”

I will dive into you I’ll swim in your ocean blue

“You know, you’ve got everything ahead of you, man. Your whole life. You don’t have to be afraid of change.”

“Yeah, well… these changes are maybe bigger than I hoped.” Stede stands up and stretches a bit. “But if I can weather this… maybe. You know?”

I’m alive in you Let your waters Dance over me

Ed smiles. “I know.”

Stede turns to him. “Ed, there’s… it’s hard being vulnerable… I’m worried I’m going to mess this up…”

This is where you set me free

Ed feels like a sledge, but instead of tiny, invisible huskies leading him, it’s those angels and demons both pulling him towards the man he loves. He isn’t sure what they want him to do, but he rises and stands close enough to smell Stede’s cologne, hints of orange and bergamot from the shampoo he’d used in the last hour, to see the flecks of green in Stede’s hazel eyes. Not just that, but the wanting. The yearning. Ed can almost see his own reflected back at him.

“I want to thank you for everything, Ed,” Stede says softly, almost at a whisper. “You’ve been by my side as everything has fallen apart… you’re the only reason I’ve held on at all. I’m so grateful for you.”

Stede’s smile is tired. His hand accidentally brushes Ed’s. The demons bring out little flamethrowers and incinerate the angels into hot ash and-

Fuck angels. Fuck Judeo-Christian metaphors.

Ed moves in for a kiss, as gentle of one as his libido will allow, and he feels like a wave crashing upon Stede’s shores at first. Stede gasps a little, for but a moment, but Ed feels the fluttering in his chest as the kiss is returned, as his faith in Stede is realized, as his trust in love is validated, as…

As Stede steps back with another gasp, panting. No, not panting.

Hyperventilating.

“Are you- was that okay?” Ed asks with worry.

“Ed… I’m sorry… I thought… why?” Stede isn’t meeting Ed’s eyes. The warmth from the moment goes cold.

“I’m so sorry Stede, I thought you wanted… you were just…” Ed is confused at Stede’s confusion, upset that Stede is upset, devastated that Stede is devastated.

“No… it’s… it’s okay Ed… it’s just…” Stede bursts into tears.

Ed hovers his hands around Stede’s shoulders, afraid to touch him. Can he comfort him? Will Stede comfort him back?

“It’s just… I trusted… I thought you accepted me for who I was.” Stede wipes his eyes.

“What? Stede, of course I do.”

“Ed, youkissedme, I told you I was straight and…” Stede sighs in frustration. His voice is quiet. “No one believes me. No one.”

“Stede… this is my fault. I’m sorry. I’ve had a crush on you and… I read the room wrong. Don’t…” Ed reaches out and Stede steps back.

“No… it isn’t you Ed… it’s me.” Stede takes another step towards the door. “I just can’t be who people need me to be.” Another step. “I can’t… I can’t be who you need me to be, Ed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” Ed’s heart has dropped to the bottom of his feet. He feels everything crashing around him, the breaking of ceramic, smashing of glass, the splintering of wood, and the room is empty. Stede is at the door.

“I think I need to go now,” Stede practically whispers, backing out quietly, with fragility, as one does in the room of a dying relative.

“It’s going to…” Ed’s voice trails off. Stede is gone.

---

“Mary. You didn’t have to come.” Stede helps her out of her car, and Mary notices that he doesn’t bother to avoid the splash of water from the gutter on his suit pants.

“You can’t do this alone, Stede. She was your mother. And she was our children’s grandmother.” Alma and Louis spring out of the car and run onto the cemetery grass, laughing. Mary sighs and holds up her hands at them before turning to her husband.

“The children… did they want to come?”

“It doesn’t matter. This is something families do together.” Stede looks exhausted. Mary can’t imagine what losing his mother has done to him. They weren’t close to her, none of them were. But in a way, that can make things worse, she suspects.

“I didn’t think…”

“That we were still a family? Stede, I expect you at Thanksgiving, you know that? You still have children. We need to learn to co-parent.”

Stede nods and looks contrite. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m being bad at this again.”

His bowtie is crooked. Mary adjusts it.

“This is the last family funeral you have to go to, hmm? You won’t need to bother for your father. He doesn’t deserve a funeral.”

Stede gives a weak half-smile at that. “Mary… I intend to give a eulogy. For mom. Of course, I mean who else?”

“I thought you would. Your father okay with that?”

“He will not be okay with it. And you should make yourself and the kids scarce when I give it.” Stede sighs.

“You think he’ll get violent?”

Stede winces. “Probably not in front of this lot. But… it’s going to be a proper eulogy. An honest one.”

Mary nods. She is proud of Stede. He’s a terrible husband and father, sure. Annoying, definitely a coward. But he’s done a lot of brave things lately. He deserves to find happiness. Mary would like to think she wished he could be happy with her… but that would be a lie. She deserves better, too.

The funeral is dull, somber and sad, but not in the way a funeral should be. The sadness comes from the distinct lack of tears or real mourning from the attendees. It’s a group of old, soulless associates of the Bonnets, each of whom probably put more thought into the expensive outfits they would wear today than they have ever thought of Sarah Bonnet her whole life. People whispered about her, mocked her behind her back. She’d never defended herself, not even once. Meek and mild to the end. And while her obituaries would pin her cause of death on liver cancer, Mary knew that Sarah’s inability to stand up for herself or her son was the biggest cancer in her life.

Mary would be damned if she allowed the same to take her almost-ex-husband.

Even if he is a terrible husband and father.

Edward Bonnet’s eulogy for his late wife is short, perfunctory, a cold summation of their years of marriage. There is no show of emotion from him. That would be a weakness. Mary shudders imagining such an end to her own life. If this was all those who knew her could muster on her behalf. Stede wouldn’t… he won’t, anyway. He’ll be her ex-husband for a long time before she passes. And Doug? Doug will make Mary’s funeral light, beautiful, happy.

Mary hopes that when the time comes, there will be someone to give Stede the same. And it had better be a man this time.

When Edward Bonnet finishes his eulogy, Stede stands and approaches the microphone. He gets a scowl in return.

“What is it, Stede? We’re moving on.”

“I am her son. I would like to say a few words on her behalf.”

“I didn’t plan for-”

“Of course you didn’t. You won’t deny me to share something nice about my mother here, will you?” Stede gestures to the crowd, almost every member a person who Edward Bonnet respects or wants to respect him.

Mary takes the opportunity to tell Louis and Alma to go play in the grass.

“Fine. Make it quick.” He stalks away and Stede takes his place at the microphone.

“I would like to thank you all for coming. My mother would likely be surprised to see so many faces here, today.” Stede shuffles his notes. “So very little ever surprised Sarah Bonnet. She kept her feelings inside, where it was appropriate to hide them. She hid away from the world, believing it to be a cruel place.” He looks up at the crowd. “My mother was a victim of abuse. Physical abuse, emotional abuse, both at the hands of the people who should have loved her most.”

Edward uncrosses his arms from where he has been standing at the back of the tent. “That is a lie! How dare you besmirch your mother’s name like that!”

“Her parents, her husband. Men were not kind to her. Women were not kind to her. She had so much to offer, but the world was never ready to accept it. So she kept it hidden away. She kept herself hidden away, and taught her son to do the same.”

Edward stalks forward, “Of course you’re making this about you and your failures-”

“Father, if you are going to hit me again, I ask that you wait until we’re behind closed doors, like you used to.” Stede’s face is expressionless. He shuffles his speech cards. “No one stood up for her. That was your way. To stand by and allow it, because you respected my father, or were afraid of him. And your children learned from you. An army of soulless husks, draining the earth of joy with no love to replenish it.”

The crowd grumbles and people begin to leave. It is clear from Edward’s disapproval that they don’t need to pretend to listen to this speech, anyway.

Edward grabs the microphone. “Get out of here,now. I disown you. You are a disgrace. I wil lnever see you again.”

Stede doesn’t acknowledge him. He just continues without the microphone. Seats around Mary begin to clear.

“My mother and father taught me many things. The most important of which are what not to do.” Stede looks at Mary. “I wish I had learned those lessons sooner. I wish I had figured out how to live my life without harming others. I’m sorry. I’m sorry on behalf of myself, my mom, and my father, who will never be.”

Stede tosses the speech cards on the ground at his father’s feet and steps down from the stage. Edward reaches out for Stede’s collar and Stede bats his arm away and grabs his wrist.

“Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Stede releases his father’s arm and approaches Mary. She smiles.

“I’m so proud of you, Stede.”

Stede nods, but doesn’t smile. His face is expressionless.

“Tell the kids I’ll be there for Thanksgiving, Mary.”

He puts his hands in his pockets and walks away.

---

Ed: Stede, I’m so sorry about yesterday. You had boundaries and I crossed them.

Ed: Talk to me?

Stede: It isn’t your fault. You are ok.

Stede: There’s a lot going on.

Stede: I just need to be alone.

Ed: Ok. Call me when you’re ready?

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Toxic masculinity is bullshit. Elegy for bad rubbish.

Comments: TheRealWande: Everything okay man? Call me.

Chapter 22

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 7: Welly Boots

Summary:  Mother Bonnet has news, and Stede must process it.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

It’s junk day at Ed’s rage room, which means showing up at junk yards with a truck looking for things that could stand to have a lot more damage done to them. Procurement for the business can be surprisingly complicated. Junk is everywhere, but finding items Ed can legally take and use is harder. Ed is in his office, lazily browsing Craigslist and other social media sites for old fridges and items that people are willing to get rid of for free, if Fang and Ivan will go out with the truck and get them.

Ed’s end of it is boring as fuck. Luckily Ed has a new friend, and his new favorite hobby is blowing off work to text said friend.

Ed: taking the kids trick or treating this year?

Stede: No, the office throws a Halloween party every year and I’m obligated to go. It’s terrible.

Ed: just blow it off then man, never been to a fancy office party but it doesn’t sound very fun?

It would probably be fun with Stede.

Stede: Believe me, and I don’t mean this as a brag, but my absence will be noticed.

Stede: If I don’t show up, I’ll be in deep shit. They’re already going to be angry that I’m not taking my family with me.

Ed: they can control that kind of thing?

That's fucked up?

Stede: They can when your dad owns the company.

Ed: look at you, rich man. when you inherit you’ll throw a few ragers, right?

Stede: When I inherit I will set the building on fire with me inside it.

Jesus Christ.

Ed: harsh mate. you dont have any friends there with you?

Stede: Nope. It’s the definition of a hostile work environment. Just have to get through it. I’m not putting my wife and kids through it anymore, it’s awful for them.

Something tells Ed that it's a bad idea. There's no way he'll say yes, and even if he did it would be a disaster... but Ed keeps picturing Stede standing in a corner next to some shitty carpeted office walls, sipping a drink and avoiding everyone, and his heart clenches a bit.

Ed: well you know

Ed: if you need a friend there, or have a plus one

Ed: i could go, as emotional support

There is a pause of about thirty seconds where Ed spirals a bit. You scared him away, he isn’t going to want someone like you with his rich coworkers. But then Ed’s phone rings.

“What, you don’t want to text?”

“Ed, it’s nice of you to offer, and I would do anything to have an ally there, but there are some things you should know.”

What, everyone at the office are secretly lizard people? Ed wouldn't be too surprised.

“Fire away.”

“Remember that conversation we had last time I was there? About my last name?”

“Yeah, it’s the same as those assholes at- Oh, I see where this is going, you’re one of them.” He's a Bonnet Bonnet. Of course.

“Yes, I am. My father owns BG&E.”

“Your dad’s a fuckin’ murderer, you know that, right?”

“Believe me, I am aware. He’s a monster, you don’t know the half of it.” Stede sounds worn out. Ed tries to imagine what kind of thing Stede's dad would have to do to make him seem worse, before he remembers that he understands a little too well. “Anyway, you need to know that most of the people at the top of the corporate structure here are not good people. I’ve known a lot of them my entire life. I don’t want to subject you to that kind of thing without a warning. Racists, homophobes, you name it, they are there and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“That doesn’t sound too fun. I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

“Hold on, Ed, I’m getting another call, let me see what they want.” Stede leaves the call, and Ed decides that now is the time to think.

Honestly, his offer to go to the party was supposed to be a joke. I mean, he intended it to be taken as a joke, because in actuality it would be interesting to experience something outside of Ed’s business with Stede, to see the environment that sends him to Ed’s neck of the woods once or twice a week. But Ed is gay and indigenous. He could probably pass for being straight, but not white. And being at a party full of people he doesn't know where both of those things are a problem? He's attracted to Stede, but he isn't dating Stede. Every ounce of reason clattering around in his brain tells him it isn't worth it.

Stede interrupts his thoughts by returning to the call.

“I’m sorry Ed, I got a really weird phone call and I have to go meet up with someone, I’ll text you later!”

“See ya-”

Stede hangs up. Ed wonders what a “weird phone call” entails and whether his friend is going to end up in a dumpster somewhere. The quickness with which Stede hung up the phone causes him to wonder if Stede even wants him to go at all, or was just being polite.

---

“Mother?”

Sarah Bonnet places her hand on the bench, indicating that Stede should sit. He does. The bay spreads out before them. A nice view, but Stede has seen the bay many times. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen his mother outside of her home, unaccompanied by his father. Now she sits ramrod straight, a scarf on her head and sunglasses guarding her eyes, technically in public but still very much hidden, like she's always been.

“I’ve always wondered, you know.” She says. “Who would win.”

If people thought that Stede was weird, and many, many people did, he told them he got it from his mother. Who opens a conversation like that?

“Win what?” Stede can feel the tenseness between them, an awkwardness that has always been there. Stede knows it was his fault. He has never fit in with these people, this family. He always feels ten steps behind them.

“Imagine being a young girl, barely allowed an education or consideration, married to a man who should solve everything. Who should be everything. Imagine discovering the truth, that your future and identity are a sham. That love doesn’t exist. That you must hold a baby in your arms after hours of delivery and know that you must never love it, because it will have to suffer, and you can’t bear to see something you love hurt.”

Of fucking course.. “If he’s got you complaining about Mary to me, I’m not interested. Tell someone who cares.” Mary is strong. Mary has love. Mary loves their kids, and their kids are fine. Stede is so fucking sick of the comments about her.

“I was talking about myself.”

Stede pauses. He doesn’t know his mother. He’s never known her, despite the fact that she has always been around, haunting their lives like a specter. In public, she hangs onto her husband’s arm, turns on the charm in certain important company, but in private life is mute as a stone. Stede spent his teens and twenties angry about that, angry that his mother could fake charm and happiness for strangers and people who talked behind her back, but couldn't be bothered to even pretend to love her son. Of course, she's expected to do the former. No one has ever cared if she did the latter. No one ever asked Stede if his mother loved him. The fact that your mother loves you is taken as a given. It's taken for granted. It's assumed.

Stede could count the number of conversations he’d had with Sarah Bonnet on one hand.

“When I held you in my arms for the first time, I knew two things. The first: that I would never hold you again, because I had the first taste of what that love felt like and I couldn’t do it. I knew your father. I knew the families who raised us. I knew they would crush you. So I hardened my heart.”

Stede feels a pang somewhere deep, but years of numbing and acceptance keep it from growing. It would have been nice to have a mother to hold him. It would have helped a lot to have felt loved by one. But not this one, the one he is stuck with. She repels him. He can't look at her most of the time, doesn't want to touch her. The emotional shield he built as a child has become physical.

“The second was that I would never have another child, because harming one was enough.”

“Jesus Christ...” Stede glowers at the ocean. He should have never been born. He should have been an abortion. His mother would have been so much happier that way. But she had to make an heir, so she did. She popped him out and left him to his own devices. And, of course, he forgave her for that... at least he tells himself he's forgiven her. He tells himself she can't help it. It's a kind of neurodivergence, or maybe she had post-partum depression, or something in her brain that makes her incapable. But no, here she sits, telling him that it was a choice. His pain was her choice. He's jealous of the younger sibling he never had for not having to feel it.

Stede remembers his wedding to Mary. The way his mother smiled weakly at guests before touching Stede’s arm with a grimace.

“Love is a choice, remember that.” She had told him that. Love is a choice. And he had used that as a guide, a sort of lighthouse for his marriage, that loving Mary was a choice he could make every day, through action if not through feeling. He had believed that if he chose to show her love ever day, those feelings would develop, because love was a choice.

And yet, even so, it hadn't occurred to him that love could be easily revoked or neglected, that you could choose instead not to love. Who would choose that? Stede would have all of the love in the world, if it were up to him.

Sarah sits up straighter. "I believed that I was doing you a favor, Stede. I did."

“A favor? How could you believe that? Do you know what it's... you probably do, you probably know exactly what it's like, but you did it to me anyway. I’d tell you I hate you, but I’m just… fucking disappointed. In everyone. And everything.” Stede fixates his eyes at his wedding ring as he turns it back and forth.

“Not raising you with love is my greatest regret.” She is still faced towards the bay. “I always thought that if I married, it would be for love. When that didn’t happen, I held out that hope for you. My hopes were dashed on both counts.”

“Then it looks like we’re both disappointments to each other.”

“I called you because I'm dying, Stede.”

Stede looks at her sideways. “Dying?”

“Liver cancer. It’s terminal.”

Stede turns back to the bay. Absorbing this with two senses is too much. He has to reduce it to one.

“How long do you have?”

“A couple of months, now.”

Stede shakes his head. “And you’ve called me here for some kind of deathbed confession? So we can lie to ourselves for a few months before you’re… flushed down to hell and I’m left here even worse than before?”

Sarah huffs and adjusts herself on the bench. “If it were that, I wouldn’t bother. I’ve come to settle the score.”

“Look, believe it or not, I have a family that I haven’t completely fucked over yet, and I’d like to get back to them instead of… whatever is happening here.”

Stede knows that he isn't a good husband, or a good father. But he tries. He loves Alma and Louis, he wants them to know he loves them. He wants Mary to feel that he loves her. So why is he sitting on a bench with this soulless hag when he could be with the ones who are important to him?

“You’ll want to hear the rest.” Sarah puts her hand on Stede’s arm, which somehow exacts more control over Stede’s willpower than any amount of yelling from his father ever had. “Your father has tried very, very hard to make you into a man like him. I watched your strength of wills fight each other for over forty years. Sometimes they went one way, sometimes another. But I know who won.”

“Dad won.” Stede looks down at his hands. Edward Bonnet has won or stolen everything he ever wanted.

“No,” Sarah looks down at her own hands now. “It's worse. I did.”

Stede crosses his arms. “Well congratu-fucking-lations. We’ll throw a party.”

What does any of this have to do with him?

“You retreat into your shell more and more. You hide from your family. You don’t make friends. You jump at every shadow, and I can see how much of yourself you keep locked up.” A tear runs down from under her sunglasses. “I was terrified you would end up like Edward, but you are like me. You are my son.”

“I don’t know any other way to be. I could have learned to be myself, or could have been there for my family. I had to choose. Love is a choice I make every day.”

“No, it isn’t. It isn’t a choice. It’s been fifteen years, Stede. If you don’t love Mary now, you never will.” That bitch, that fucking hypocrite.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mary, or my family.”

“I know you very well. Maybe it is too late for you, Stede. But I don’t think so. If you don’t know how to love, it is because we never taught you. But who is going to teach Alma and Louis? Where will they be in forty years if you don’t show them?”

Stede feels that statement like a punch to the gut. He is miserable every day. That is his love, that is how they will know it. Because Stede drowns every day so they can have a good life. But that... isn't healthy, is it? Stede has no clue how to move forward. He's supposed to build a shelter for his loved ones, but he has never been handed the tools.

“I’m leaving it all to you. It’s my wealth, not his.”

Stede sputters, “M-mom, that’s not-”

“He can keep his company, but you are the only chance my family line has to be free, to love and be loved. You can leave your job, live your life, let your children live theirs. You can be the first one of us to be happy. That is all I can give you.”

Stede shakes his head. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

It doesn't buy love, either. She should know that by now.

“No, it doesn't. But it does buy freedom.”

---

The seventh time it happens, Ed looks up and begins with a smile and a wave before Stede interrupts it.

“I’ll pay you two-hundred dollars if you let me cry in your office for forty minutes.”

Ed rolls his eyes. “You money-solves-everything types.” He turns around and opens the office door, beckoning his new friend in, wondering if he should tell Stede to drop the rage room idea and just get a therapist. But then he won't come around here anymore, will he?

Stede tosses two-hundred dollars in cash on the counter and walks in. Ed grabs the money and follows him, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to pay me for this, mate, you’re my friend.” This will pay for a therapy session, you nut.

Stede nods, already seated at a table with his face buried in his arms. Ed sighs and sits down next to him.

“Want to talk about it?”

Stede sits up and rubs his eyes.

“My mother is dying.”

Ed whistles. “Shit, man. I’m so sorry. I know how that feels.”

Stede shakes his head. “If you loved your mother, then you definitely don't know how this feels. I don’t know why I’m so upset about it. She’s… awful. She told me she never loved me. And I already knew it, I've always known it, but to hear it confirmed…”

Telling your kid you never loved him on your deathbed? Ed would think that's crazy... but if his own dad had been able to speak while dying, he would have said the same thing, with harsher words. “She sounds like a real piece of work.”

Stede sighs. “I don’t know, I don’t know anything about her. She said that I am just like her. But she’s wrong. I love my family, my kids…”

“That’s good, mate. That’s all they need. That’s more than a lot of us get.”

“It’s never been enough.” He rubs his eyes and looks at the ceiling. “She said she’s giving me everything, all the family money. It’s mostly hers. She wants me to… I don’t know… quit my job and run away? Abandon everything I’ve built here and go fuck off and be happy somewhere else. As if it was that easy.”

“No offense, but that’s a first world problem right there.”

Stede laughs in response. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just a lot. I don’t want her money. I don’t want it to do to me what it’s done to everyone else in my family. And I’m worried it already has.”

Ed thinks for a minute. “What I’m hearing is, as soon as your mom carks it you won’t have a reason to work with your evil dad in his lair of secrets and lies. It sounds like she's giving you an escape.”

“I guess… I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

“And if that’s the case, it sounds like you don’t need to spend all your time at shitty corporate events to stay in their good graces.” Cheer up, Stede. Smile that cute smile.

“I…” Stede shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what else I would do. I’m not good at anything else, I don’t even have a degree.”

“Nothing wrong with not having a degree, man. A lot of us manage.”

“Yeah, but you… you think of awesome things like this.” Stede waves his hand around Ed’s dirty, dumpy office. “A rage room. I wouldn’t have thought of that in a million years.”

“It’s honestly kind of boring. A lot of waiting around and hauling junk.”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you still going to that party?”

Stede nods. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to make anyone at the company suspicious. I should at least show up for a bit and do some groveling. It might be bearable now, though. Maybe.”

Ed chuckles and puts his feet up on his desk. “It might be even more bearable if you bring a friend.”

---

Post from blog Hear Something Weird:

Hi all! Do you have children? Hold them tight and tell them you love them now. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

That should go for all loved ones, if you’re lucky enough to love and be loved. Today’s song is Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil. They are a modern folk band. You can tell it’s modern because they use the word “fuck” in many of their songs. The more you know…

Chapter 8

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 1 - An Animated Description of Mr. Maps

Summary: 17 times Stede Bonnet shows up to Ed's Rage Room, the one time he doesn't, and the aftermath

Prompt: "modern au where Ed is the owner of the rage room and one day Stede comes in after a very stressful day at work, pays 40 minutes for the room, breaks things for 20 minutes and then cries for another 20 minutes" @EDWARDSSTEACH on Twitter

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Outgoing Email To: All BG&E Employees

An issue has come to our attention that some employees are not following the proper chain of command with regards to communication with our Corporation Officers. Please remember that this chain exists for a reason, and to not bother our board, including CEO Edward Bonnet, with questions that are beneath them to answer, regardless of any relationship outside of the company you might feel you have with them. Instead, all queries should go through my personal secretary so they can be prioritized and addressed in the right manner.

Nigel Badminton, VP of Corporate Affairs

---

The first time it happens, Ed doesn’t say anything. It’s a normal day. Boring. Maybe he has a hangover, maybe it’s time to stop getting black-out drunk the night before work. But it’s been a while since he’s gotten into trouble for it. He doesn’t have as much to be angry about these days, not anymore. Depressed? Possibly. Feeling like he’s wasted his life? Oh, absolutely, that’s just a fact. He’s 45 years old and working in a dingy, dusty strip mall, living vicariously (at the moment) through a man in a $3000 bespoke suit taking a sledgehammer to a microwave.

Well, the man is trying to, at least. He certainly has the upper body mass for it, with broad shoulders and clear upper body strength. And he did remove the coat jacket, wouldn’t want to sully that. He left the jacket in Ed’s care as if it weren’t the most expensive item of clothing Ed had ever touched. Guys like that don’t tend to really see people like Ed, though. They just hand off whatever they please to the help and expect it to be waiting for them later. And it’s just part of Ed’s job here to do that kind of thing. He isn’t a servant, he’s providing a service, a fact which he has to remind himself of as he figures out the best way to fold the jacket into a cheap plastic temporary storage bin without wrinkling it.

Ed gives up the effort and turns back to the security panel to keep watch on the room’s interior. The problem is, this guy just doesn’t have the will to really do it. The man in the room swings the sledgehammer, but when it gets close to the microwave it loses momentum, knocking against the appliance weakly. The man in the video puts the hammer-end of the sledge on the ground, leaning with both of his hands on the top of the handle.

This guy has no idea how to cut loose, Ed thinks to himself, smiling. Those types aren’t used to it. And yet, somehow, 20 minutes previous he had entered this crappy establishment on the ass-end of a disgusting strip mall in an area he had no business being in, and asked for 40 minutes in the room. And Ed did his job and got him set up. Didn’t ask questions, it isn’t his job to ask questions. All sorts of people come through here to spend time destroying everything they can. Bachelor parties, women having a post-divorce bash with their friends, college students who are too straight-edge to do real damage but still want to feel badass, incels who pretend that every broken plate and smashed mirror bears the face of the women they perceive to have wronged them.

And it isn’t healthy, Ed knows this. He’s learned the difference between healthy and unhealthy outlets for anger. But business is business, and this is his. The big neon sign outside reads Blackbeard’s Breakery: Adding Injury to Insult (all letters properly lit up again as of last week, because Ed has his shit mostly together, mostly). It’s a stupid name, because Ed was an idiot when he named it, but he figures it’s good to have a daily reminder to be less of one going forward.

Anyway, it’s been 10 minutes since the clock has started, and the man in the room sets the sledgehammer daintily against the wall and tentatively grabs the baseball bat. He places a drinking glass on a small waist-high platform. He takes a step back, preparing himself, hips wiggling a bit like he’s preparing for a home run. His form isn’t perfect, but Ed thinks that maybe at some point he had some pointers in baseball, as a kid or something, because it’s a decent swing that ends roughly where it should. Only the man is still holding back, so when the bat hits the upper edge of the glass it just sort of knocks the glass off the table and onto the floor. The glass shatters upon hitting the ground and the man stops, as if in total shock that this happened, and puts his hands over his mouth like he didn’t mean to do it. Like he’s afraid his mom is going to come in and find her favorite vase in pieces. And then he’s running his fingers through his blond curls with either shame or anxiety.

Part of Ed just feels so bad for this guy. He wants to pipe his voice into the room and say, listen mate, this isn’t for everyone, don’t try to be someone you’re not, just get therapy but that is not his job and isn’t good for business. Everyone passing through here needs therapy. Hell, Ed’s cat probably needs therapy.

Rich boy (he’s not a boy, he’s gotta be at least Ed’s age, but he carries himself like an insecure teenager) adds more glassware and crockery to the pile and takes a few more experimental swings. He seems to be gaining a bit more confidence, so Ed smiles and goes to pump some encouraging music into the room, something with a rhythm that can help the man focus. He picks This Corrosion by Sisters of Mercy (he read about it on a music blog he follows), and while the opening of the choir normally elicits confused looks from those in the rage room, it causes this guy to stop dead in his tracks, look up towards the crappy wall speaker, and smile. And Ed thinks that it’s a great smile, the first time this man has seemed anything less than completely miserable. Rich Boy immediately grabs whatever he can (the remnants of the microwave, a cheap 25-inch computer monitor, a pile of empty beer bottles) and gets to it.

It’s times like this that give Ed the smallest hint of job satisfaction. Sure, it’s great to stick it to the man or whatever and destroy consumer goods, to take a stand against the mass production of… well, Ed doesn’t remember the tirade he heard from the last group of wannabe warriors who came through (and Ed didn’t have the heart to tell them that it all ends up in a giant ocean trash-pile anyway, broken or not). But what he really likes is when people seem happy doing this. Legitimately happy, not drunk or high or a mess of artificially-raised testosterone. Just a sober man who maybe is finally having a good moment in his day. Ed doesn’t get many of those here. And this is how he lives his life vicariously through the rich man in the battered room.

Boarding School Billy (Ed bets his name could also be something like Tom, or Steve, and he could look at the information the man left but that would be weird, right?) spends the next 10 minutes absolutely wrecking the place, to the best of his ability. Ed watches the pit stains growing under the arms of his expensive shirt, the cathartic way Billy/Tom/Steve finishes a swing with the bat and then wipes sweat from his brow. Ed knows it’s unprofessional to stare, but nobody else is here, nobody else knows, and nobody else cares. Ed will never see this guy again, this businessman who is just passing through, so there’s no harm in adding this view to his mental spank bank for later.

It’s hard to focus over the sounds of the screaming coming down the hallway, though. Coming from the only occupied room in the joint. Billy/Tom/Steve is raging against the machine, raging against something at least, and Ed can’t make it out, but boy is this guy pissed. Ed had better listen in, just to be safe, you know? Doesn’t want this guy to hurt himself, can probably afford expensive lawyers to shut the business down. Ed puts on the headphones he can use to listen in to the rooms and strains to hear over the music.

“You’re my father! You’re my fucking father! And you’re going to use him of all people as a barrier to ignore me and… fuck you! Fuck!” After that it’s a string of expletives and sounds of breaking ceramic. Ed rips the headphones off and decides to give the man some peace. Ed already has enough daddy issues, no need to carry this guy’s as well.

Whatever the daddy issues are, they aren’t enough to grant this guy 40 minutes worth of destructive stamina. His swings get weaker, he pants harder, he rests his hands on his legs for a minute and breathes, only to stand up and try again, a marginal attempt at gusto, but it isn’t long before his arms seem to give up. He puts his hands over his face (and under his safety goggles), shaking, and Ed realizes that he’s crying. Not an unheard of reaction, nothing to be embarrassed by, really. Except the man has 20 minutes left on the clock, and instead of raging he’s sinking to the floor, weeping.

Ed generally doesn’t intervene when this happens. People in the room can be out of control, they can be a flood of emotions and adrenaline, and anything could be going on in their lives. Ed isn’t a therapist or a counselor. So he just stands there awkwardly, wishing he had another customer to watch instead, wishing he could look away. But it would be rude to look away, wouldn’t it? Maybe Ed can be there in solidarity for his fellow man.

This lasts all of five minutes before he’s putting on the headphones and flipping the switch to speak into the room. Except he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Hey man… you good?” Smooth, so cool. The man in the room looks up like he’s heard the voice of God himself.

“Um…” and he raises a hand and gives a thumbs up to the universe.

“All right, sounds good, you still got 15 minutes.”

Billy/Tom/Steve nods and moves himself against the wall, still crying, absentmindedly spinning his gold wedding band back and forth.

Ed could take him out early and refund the time he didn't use, but he doesn't. This guy can afford it. Ed has a business to run. When Billy's 15 minutes are up he is let out of the room, returning his borrowed safety gear and quietly putting on his expensive suit jacket. He looks down, brushes himself off, gives Ed a quick nod without really looking at him, and exits into the night.

And that’s another wasted day of Ed’s life.

---

Excerpt from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Hi all! Do you want to hear something weird?

You ever just want to feel a song in your bones, like a deep pulsating rhythm that floods your entire body? You ever want to feel it in your fingernails and the pads of your feet? This one requires headphones, I think.

It’s An Animated Description of Mr. Maps, by The Books. This one’s a bit weird, but I love it. Open it up and close your eyes, lean your head back. There’s a rhythm to everything that makes a sound. The spoken word can become the rhythm of a song, and it can seep deep into your brain until you aren’t sure what words are being spoken anymore. I love to listen to songs like this when I need to feel it all coming together, when I need to feel like everything is in tune. The song starts out with a strange snare beat, and it’s hard to follow at first, but…

Comments Be the first to leave a comment.

Chapter 2

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 30: The Monarch (fic COMPLETE)

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

New Year's Eve. National Champagne Day. National Make Up Your Mind Day.

Stede never really thought about it... What it would be like going to a gay club. After all, such places are for meeting people, hooking up, finding someone willing to take a chance on you. And Stede isn’t exactly a master of the social sphere, but he knows he’s already found his person. So what's the point?

He pauses for a moment in front of the entrance to Sploosh, which Lucius insists is the perfect venue for Stede’s first introduction to the wider queer community.

Do I belong here? Is there room for me in a place like this?

He feels the squeeze of his hand and smiles over at Ed.

“You ever been, Ed? To… Sploosh?” Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing to say the name out loud.

“No, I’ve been to gay clubs, but not this one.”

“Why is it called that?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re back at the apartment.”

The apartment, Ed’s apartment, which is quickly becoming their apartment now that Stede is spending most days there (and some nights). They haven’t been fully intimate yet, of course. They want to take their time. But spending his nights playing the role of the big spoon to someone who actually wants him is, it turns out, addictive. It’s only a matter of time.

Plus, Ed's cat has become accustomed to Stede's face. He can't let the Kraken down.

They enter the club, $15 cover charge, are these people serious, and it’s an assault on the senses at first. Big screens running music videos for songs Stede’s never heard of, flags everywhere, black lights, bright lights. There’s a bar, tables and booths, a dance floor in the back. There’s supposed to be a drag show tonight. Stede has never seen a drag show. He’d searched up ‘first drag show what to do’ on the internet for the occasion. That’s normal, right? I guess there’s no sense trying to be normal. After a minor argument with Ed about where Ed insisted that Stede only needed one-dollar bills and Stede argued that maybe they’d appreciate fives, they presumably work hard, Stede had settled on a few of each.

What Stede notices the most, though, is how happy everyone is. Not just his friends, but people he’s never seen before. They’re wearing bright colors, floating around the floor, checking up on each other, hugging and smiling. Stede has spent his entire life feeling weird, but next to most of the people here his own outfit feels almost homophobic in how boring it is.

The drinks are pretty, but Stede and Ed aren’t drinking. They just sit together at a table, holding hands and holding court as their friends come and go, drink too much, dance too much, have just enough fun.

Stede spots Jackie Delahaye at the bar, and at one point she raises a glass his way before chatting up one of her many boyfriends (Lucius had explained that really, it’s more like Jackie has three boyfriends, and those boyfriends are boyfriends with each other as well as other boyfriends, creating this gigantic complicated poly web that Stede can’t even begin to understand, as having one boyfriend is overwhelming enough).

They watch Swede and Roach hold a drinking contest. Roach wins, of course, but Swede drunkenly insists that he's not done yet, even when he's curled up on a booth in the corner.

They watch Wee John and Frenchie on the dance floor, gyrating and throwing out limbs like there isn’t anyone around them.

They watch Jim and Wande disappear into the bathroom, and after ten minutes of waiting Stede makes a note that it's probably best to avoid having to go for a while.

They watch Buttons stand in a corner, staring out at the rest of the room, unblinking, which apparently not concerning at all and completely normal for him.

They watch Lucius and Pete compete to see who can be gifted the most free drinks (and Lucius is winning like he always does, but as half of his drinks end up with Pete anyway, he doesn't seem to mind).

It’s nice. Stede feels like a round peg in a round hole. There is so much love around him that it’s filling him up, and he wants to burst with it.

Izzy Hands arrives, and casts nervous glances at Stede as he orders his drink at the bar.

Stede decides that it’s a good time for that in-person apology, though he’s already forgiven Izzy. He knows more than anyone how hurt people hurt people. So he excuses himself from Ed’s side and makes his way to the bar.

---

Tonight is the night of Ed’s dreams. Okay, so maybe his dreams aren’t super creative, but still. He is sitting in a gay club with a man who he loves, who loves him back. They’re holding hands in public, surrounded by friends, surrounded by love, and to Ed, this is the stuff of dreams. Something he never thought he’d have for himself. Something he’d never thought he deserved. Stede is… so big, but in the energy way, so unique, so beautiful, so silly, so naïve, so sweet and romantic without even realizing it. And he’s out, out of the closet and out in public. Ed is so proud of Stede. And he’s proud of himself, too. Ten-years-ago Ed couldn’t have handled this whole situation. He’s come a long way.

Stede excuses himself to grab Izzy, swearing that he's fine having this conversation alone, so Ed just watches. And yeah, Izzy is mostly scowling, but at some point he sees a little smile on his face. And yes, Stede seems to be a bit awkward and unsure of what to say, but he’s trying, and isn’t that just life? Everyone is just trying. And when Izzy walks away after a firm handshake, Ed thinks it's going to be okay.

---

They all crowd in for the drag show, and even though Izzy rolls his eyes at Stede's bundle of fives (okay, and maybe are some tens, what of it?), he nods in approval when he hears who is getting them. Stede can see the beginning of a weird little friendship forming, another in a series of weird little friendships, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The host of the night comes out and has Stede smiling so hard his face hurts (Stede doesn't fully catch her name but it's something like Apples McSwallow). The third queen to come out is who they're here for, their friend, Benjamin "Fang" Samo, presently known as "Lady Miss Widdles of Rainbow's End" (he'd apparently created it from a show dog name generator). Stede blushes as Miss Widdles takes his money and laughs when she moves her eyebrows up at down at him in quick succession. When he's finished, Apples McSensual takes one look at Stede and advances towards him.

Stede gulps.

"I saw you handing our girl Widdles that cash, baby."

Stede blushes at the nickname and hopes that doesn't, as Lucius would say, awaken something inside of him.

Apples McSwinton giggles. "Well aren't you cute. Let me guess, first time?"

"Yeah," Stede whispers, and hears Ed's laugher as he pokes Stede in the side.

"How about we meet up later and have some time just to ourselves?" She laughs and holds the mic up to Stede, whose brain is on fire, so he can only stammer out, "Oh... uh... I'm flattered... but... taken?" He looks back at Ed, as if he's unsure, who shrugs, throwing Stede completely under the bus.

Apples McSweeney looks Stede up and down once, huffs, and tosses her hair back.

"We could've made magic, honey." Then she turns away with a dramatic whip of her wig and continues the show.

Apparently Stede is desirable here? Where had this place been all his life?

Then again, Stede isn't sure his life can fit much more magic in it.

---

Midnight comes, and of course there's a countdown, and of course Stede is holding Ed's hand through it, tears in his eyes. Ed doesn't as why, but he can guess. It's the same reason Ed is feeling that lump in his throat.

I have this. I get this. I'm worthy of this. I love him. I love him. I love us.

And when the clock strikes midnight there is a loud cheer in the club, and though the cheer is cut off by people kissing whoever is closest to them, Ed barely registers it. Because Stede is looking at him with those hazel eyes, and Ed is looking back, and it's their turn. Their lips come together and their arms embrace each other and Ed doesn't know if the sound of fireworks his coming from the screens or his own head. They've had a lot of practice kissing, but this, Ed thinks, is the best one he's ever had. They keep going as the others in the crew start wolf-whistling (mostly at Stede), and Ed gives them the finger but keeps going.

Eventually it ends, and they're both dazed and glowing. Stede squeezes his hand and pulls away for a moment, doing something on his phone, occasionally interrupted by Lucius and Swede as they cajole him for all of the gay firsts he's having tonight.

Ed's own phone buzzes and he checks his notifications. He looks up as Stede puts his phone in his pocket before turning to smile at Ed. There’s an expression of peace and acceptance on his face that is new to Ed, new to the world, but it’s beautiful and perfect.

Ed pulls up the new blog post and reads it, and returns Stede's smile. He knows that there are so many more to come.

---

Post from blog Hear Something Weird:

I looked at the stripes The monarch flies I halt my cries

If my friend, if you can change Perhaps then so can I

Comments: Be the first to leave a comment.

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 29 - The Means to Preserve

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

The lavender air freshener dangling from the rear-view mirror. The bumpy feeling of car leather on hands. Pressing the button to roll down the window. Plastic, smooth. The cool rush of morning air mixed with traffic pollution. Pulling the cashmere cardigan tighter, feeling it, soft. Soft, seafoam green. Pretty. The trees move by. The city skyline in the morning is beautiful.

The smooth cell phone cover. Opening the app, searching for… there it is.

Hey, all seven-ish of you blog readers! DNG here with something pretty great for all of you.

But first, if you’re reading this, know that you are invited! Invited where, you ask? To my Going Out of Business Party. That’s right, yours truly has decided to close his business for good, because it’s boring and my only customer found, let’s say, a healthier means of dealing with life’s problems than what my business can provide. But if you’re reading this, and you know what the fuck I’m talking about, head on over tomorrow. 11 AM. I’ll provide food and weapons.

There is a light at the edge of the sea It keeps on beckoning me

The Means to Preserve by Wilderun is today’s song. Who the fuck is Wilderun, you ask? Well, if you have to ask, you need better taste in folk metal bands, because Wilderun is one of the best. Period.

Close your eyes and you’ll Always stay here Nothing to hide from or fear

If you listen to that and aren’t enchanted, listen again. And again. The song is 11 minutes long so really, the sooner you catch on to the genius of the band the more time you will have to spend scrapbooking or whatever it is you nerds do.

Putting an earbud in each ear. Opening the song link. Closing eyes. And a smile that persists well past the eleven minute runtime.

Freedom. Love. Purpose. Destination. Him.

---

The crew arrives one by one (or two by two), ready to do some damage. Ed and Fang stand at the entrance to Blackbeard’s Breakery with something like 20 sets of safety gear.

“Buttons, put the damn goggles on, I don’t care if it ruins your vibe. Swede. Swede. Seriously? They’re on upside-down, mate. Are you high? You don’t get to use the sledgehammer if you’re high, man. Take a hammer. Jesus, Jim, how many knives did you bring?! You’re cleaning them up, later, I’m not taking them down for you…”

Once they have on their gear they head into the lobby where there’s pizza lining the counter. Lucius and Pete fall on the couches as hard as they can, just to see if they will break. Ed catches Jim eyeing a screen and thumbing a knife, and Ed has to tell them to save it for later. He turns on some music and everyone eats their pizza while making fun of how stupid their friends look in the safety gear.

Eventually everyone shuffles off into individual rooms full of all the leftover crap from Ed’s business. Fang had gone around with the truck and taken donations from everyone who had offered. All of their junk litters Blackbeard’s Breakery. And it’s time they do something about that, isn’t it?

“Hello, you bastards,” Ed’s voice comes from the speakers in each room.

“Hi Ed!”

“Hey you fuckface!”

“Can we get a move on already?”

“Shut up, all of you!” Ed says into the mic. “Welcome to the Grand Closing of Blackbeard’s Breakery. I’d like to say it’s been fun, but honestly, it was mostly boring as fuck. I’m ready to do something better with my life.”

The people in the rooms cheer.

“But first, all of this shit has to go. Your instructions: Destroy every fucking object and piece of furniture in those rooms. Destroy the speakers. Destroy the lights for all I care. Walls are fair game, break through as many as you want, but watch out for your friends. All of the load-bearing walls and walls between rooms are marked, do not destroy those. If any of you end up in the hospital because of this, I will… I will shit in your mouth, I don’t know… that came out wrong.”

“Please don’t shit in our mouths, Ed!” Fang says from the room he’s sharing with Lucius and Pete.

“Well don’t get sent to the fucking hospital then! On your marks, get set, go!”

Ed blasts Fuck Everything by Jon LaJoie into the rooms and watches his friends lose their damn minds.

In Room One Frenchie grabs a toaster by the cord and slams it into the wall while Wee John cheers him on. Roach pulls out a cleaver from… somewhere and throws it at the room camera. Ed’s instincts start to kick in to tell Roach to respect his damn property until he remembers that this is literally what he brought them here to do.

In Room 2, Jim starts throwing knives at the wall, forming the shape of a person (Ed hopes it isn’t anyone he knows). Wande and Buttons are hunched over a mini-fridge in heated debate about something, and Ed doesn’t even want to know. And Swede, ever the pacifist, leans against the wall with a giant bag of Tostitos.

In Room 3, Lucius and Pete are making out. Then, to Ed’s surprise, Lucius and Fang start making out. Then Fang and Pete. Ed mics his voice into the room to remind them to destroy shit, but Lucius just flips off the camera.

Room 4 remains empty. It doesn’t belong to them.

Ed sighs. It’s the end of an era. He wants it to be the beginning of something better. But there are so many questions to be answered.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t hear the door chime as it opens.

He jumps as he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and spins around.

“Fuck- Stede mate, you’re late.”

Stede responds by pulling Ed into a tight hug, so tight Ed gasps.

“I missed you,” Stede whispers in his ear, and Ed knows for certain that he’s still completely gone on this man. Ed pulls him back for a closer look.

He’s wearing the sea green cardigan Ed sent him. His hair isn’t perfectly styled like it used to be, it’s a curly mess. Anyone else who knew Stede would think he's really let himself go, with how he looks now. But he's smiling, not only with his mouth but all the way up through his eyes. It’s a smile Ed hasn’t seen in a long time.

“You look… amazing.” Ed says breathlessly. “How are you doing?”

“Great. I’m doing great, Ed. I’m out, and I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

Stede smiles even wider. “Everything. The whole future. I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’m happy to be here, today. With you.”

Ed pulls him in for another hug and tears up a bit. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Stede whispers into Ed’s neck, and it’s the most sensual feeling he’s ever experienced.

“Want some pizza?” Ed responds stupidly. Stede nods into his shoulder.

They take one of the couches by the window. Ed hopes that everyone in the rooms are being safe, because there is no way he’s bothering to monitor any of them. Maybe he could get Swede to do it… no, it’s best for them to be alone, for now.

They start with small talk, a bit about how their December went, what they hope for January. They branch out a bit to the next few months. Soon they’re just shooting off ideas of things they want to do or see in their lifetime, creating a giant bucket list, and not even pretending that it isn’t one list shared between them. That they won’t experience these things together. Because they aren’t willing to say it yet, but they both know that this is what love feels like, and that it’s the beginning of something beautiful.

Eventually they sit in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. The life beside them. At some point, Stede had placed his hand on Ed’s, and never moved it. And Ed’s just enjoying the contact.

“You know…” Ed says, “I left your room open.”

“Good old room 4,” Stede says. “Anything in there for me to destroy?”

“No,” says Ed, “There’s nothing left for you to destroy, mate.”

“I already ruined it all?” Stede asks, but it’s with a calm smile.

“You haven’t ruined anything, and you know it. It’s just… it’s time to start building instead of destroying.”

“Yeah… I think you’re right.” Stede’s grip on Ed’s hand tightens and he stands up. “Come on, let’s see it.”

Ed lied. The room wasn’t empty.

The walls are strung with fairy lights, and dotted with those childish green glow-in-the-dark stars Ed had always wanted as a kid but never got. The flourescent lights are out, and there’s a small speaker attached to Ed’s phone on an end table.

Stede takes one look at it, then Ed, then the speaker again. He unplugs Ed’s phone and replaces it with his own.

“Hey, man! Rude! I had plans!”

“So do I,” says Stede, and when Alive by Kisnou starts to play, Ed can’t help but fall silent.

Stede looks at him and shrugs. “Been stuck in my head all month.”

“Y-yeah?” That song isn’t a great memory for Ed.

But it’s a new day, isn’t it? A new year.

Stede walks up to Ed and bites his lip. “I… wanted a reset. To try this again. I want to know how it feels.”

“Kissing? Being kissed?”

“Kissing someone I… love. Being kissed by someone who might love me back.” Stede looks shy, and as Ed nods wordlessly and holds out his arms all he can think is, wow, that must have been some killer therapy before Stede is on him and giving him the most gentle, tender kiss of his life.

There’s warmth in Ed’s chest, a lovely heat that wraps around his arms and throat, and he’s blushing, tentative, as if it’s his first. And he flashes back to before and hopes to god that Stede doesn’t pull away this time.

He doesn’t.

Stede leans in to the kiss and wraps his arms around Ed, one hand reaching through his hair and touching his scalp. It is amazing, it is beautiful, it is his.

Eventually they pull back and look at each other, faces both flushed and hot.

“You okay with that?” Ed whispers.

Stede smiles softly. “Yeah, I think I could get used to that. If you’re amenable.”

“Fuck Stede, I am so fucking amenable. You have no idea.” And they both start giggling at that like teenagers.

Stede moves in for another kiss when a large BANG sounds through the room as someone next door with a sledgehammer.

“Hey! That wall is fuckin’ marked, man!” Ed shouts. “We’re in here!”

“You and who?” yells Jim from the room, and within the next thirty seconds people are scrambling out of Rooms 1-3 and crowding into Ed’s space, drowning Stede in hugs and well-wishes (and Swede is shoving his bag of Tostitos into Stede’s face, and Stede is politely grabbing a handful). So Ed flips on the light switch because his plans for this room aren’t happening right now, but at least Lucius looks at the fairy lights and back to Ed pointedly and raises his eyebrows. Ed shrugs.

They have so much more time. For anything. For eternity, really.

Chapter 30

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 28: Warrior Heart

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Hello hello, children and adults etceteratata! It’s DreadNordGreybeard here, filling in for a buddy and bringing you some truly weird shit. But don’t worry, I’m not that dreadful. In fact, I am quite handsome and cuddly. It’s my jokes you gotta watch out for yuk yuk.

(yes, I am pretending to be a radio DJ while typing this, no, i don’t care if that is over the top)

If you’re worried about the condition of our fearless blog leader, HearSomethingWeird, fear not! Rumors of his death and dismemberment have been greatly exaggerated. Turns out there is a hard limit on how many metal covers of famous 60s pop-rock songs you can consume in one sitting before you start to lose it a bit. But he will be good as new very soon! Until then, you have to deal with me and my immaculate taste in music. Avast, ye!

Thus. Thusly? Perchance.

Therefore.

The first song of my well-deserved tenure is great. Great, even. And it packs a wall-op.

It’s The Great Wall by Wang Leehom (and some lady who doesn’t get credited anywhere that I know how to read).

What are they mad about? Are they mad? Are they stepping on legos while they’re singing? Or are they just passionate about walls? I don’t know, but it’s awesome.

Comments: BlueSwedeShoes86: do yodel it

---

Jackie Delahaye plays the video again. “And this is that Chauncey asshole, or the other one? Who’s the one with hair?”

“That’s Nigel.”

“They both look the same to me.” Jackie never forgets a face, she prides herself on that, but these bastards have the same damn one.

“They’re twins.” Lucius reaches into his Lisa Frank satchel (he insisted it was strictly ironic) and pulls out more folders. “Each one of these contains a day of notes. You can probably get a lot more from Stede, when he gets out of the hospital.”

“I’ll have Ivan on that.” Jackie could go see Stede Bonnet in person, but there’s no rush. And Jackie hates hospitals. Sat in too many of them with bad results.

She places the folders in a box labeled "Lucy" S. (the assistant), next to the ones labeled “Jeff" F. (the accountant) and "Artie" H. (the HR rep).

“Can you use this video at least? Since it was a public recording?” More folders. More paperwork for Jackie. No rest for the vigilant.

“Maybe, maybe not. A lot of people seen it, could taint the jury pool.” Jackie takes a whiff of her Padrón 80th cigar and taps it against an ash tray shaped like the lower jaw of a skull. “But Jackie’s the best. We’ll get it done.”

Their meeting is interrupted by shouting outside of the office. Jackie opens her desk drawer and grabs her CZ-75 handgun she keeps there, slotting it into her side holster. So many undesirables trying to get up in Jackie’s business.

But Ivan’s got it handled.

He stands up to full height with his arms crossed as - speak of the devil’s uglier brother - the bald one (Chauncey?) screams in his face.

“Jackie is the best, and I am getting the best. I want to take that sack of shit for everything he has.”

Ivan frowns. “Back off, man. I told you over the phone. It’s a conflict of interest. We can’t represent you or your company. I’m sure BG&E can get you all the legal representation you need.”

“BG&E won’t give me what I ask for because it happened ‘off company property.’ They’re use, anyway. And to hell with the conflict of interest, whatever they’re paying you I’ll pay you double-”

“Mister Badminton,” Jackie interrupts. Chauncey spots her and clears his throat.

“Miss Delahaye. Charmed, I’m sure.”

“It’s Seniora Delahaye, to you.”

“Ah, yes Seniora Delahaye.”

“No. Seniora. You roll the fucking R.” She gives him the standard Jackie glare she uses for annoying rich white men in suits.

“Yes, well. As I was telling your assistant, I am seeking legal representation for a defamation suit.”

“Jackie doesn’t do defamation, not for men who could stand to be taken down a peg.”

Ivan cocks his head to one said, arms still crossed.

Chauncey clears his throat again. “I’ve been told you couldn’t take the case due to a conflict of interest.”

Jackie steps out of her office. “You were told wrong.”

Ivan looks back at her questioningly.

“Jackie can’t take your case because she won’t take your case. You have no case. My team wouldn’t be caught dead on the same side of the courtroom as you.”

She turns to her assistant. “Ivan. Take out the trash.”

Ivan smiles.

As the curses ring down the hallway, Jackie turns to the golden-framed painting on the wall. A metal plate under it reads, Alfeo de la Vaca. The best that ever done it. Done in too soon.

Jackie kisses two of her fingers and plants them on the portrait of her late husband. “Grant me all the luck you didn’t have, baby.” She returns to her meeting.

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Hey hey hey! DreadNordGreybeard here, soft on dread but hard on beard.

Does that make sense?

Fuck yeah it does! Tons of sense!

Speaking of making sense, yours truly had a session with a real therapist who isn’t just a crabby, opinionated, so-called friend. For the first time in years! Because you have to take care of yourself before you can take care of anyone else, you know what I mean? I know you do. Of course, I didn’t know that until my therapist told me. Let’s dedicate the month of December to doing what we have to do to be happy and sane, so we can be there for those who need us most later.

After all, the future is always open wide for us. No matter what happened in the past, there can always be a better day tomorrow. Don’t you fucking forget it.

Today’s song is Hope by Stefan. There is zero yodeling in it. None whatsoever. Only whistling.

Comments: BlueSwedeShoes86: do YODEL IT TheRealWande: Swede, we talked about this LucyFlawless: Absolutely do not under any circumstances do yodel it you sick son of a bitch

---

Stede sits on the stool next to the phone. He twists the cord in his hand nervously as it rings, wishing Mary hadn’t kept his cell phone. It was hard being apart from them, all of them. He's needed them, Mary and the kids. Ed. Lucius. All of them. But he is okay. A little more okay every day. And he’ll have the rest of his life to spend time with them once he gets out.

The ringing stops.

“Stede.”

“Ed.”

“Not every day I get a call from a mental hospital,” Ed’s voice comes through the receiver.

Stede huffs. “Well, thanks to me, you get to experience it. What would you do without me?”

“Oh, I don’t know, go out of business. Oh wait, I’m doing that anyway.”

Stede bites his lip. “Did you close it down already? It would have been nice to have one last rage.”

“It’s not shut down, but no more rages for you, Stede. It doesn’t seem to be a healthy outlet. Have you considered therapy?”

“I consider it three times a week.” Stede pauses. “What about you? Have you… considered it? You’ve gone through a lot, too, lately.”

“Yeah, got back in contact with my old therapist Dr. Hornigold.”

“That’s good to hear. I want you to take care of yourself.” Stede looks out the window as he talks. His eyes are drawn to the clouds today.

“And you? Any progress?”

Stede thinks for a moment. “You know… I think so. Something happened yesterday.”

“Oh yeah? What happened?”

“I went outside.”

Ed gasps. “Nooo, anything but that!”

“That isn’t the thing, Ed. I went outside and I noticed that… it was nice. The air smelled good. I could feel the sun. And the clouds were just so… fluffy.” He bites his lip again. “I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t remember the last time I just noticed how nice it felt.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s called being happy, mate. I hope you keep feeling it.”

Stede’s still looking out the window. “The clouds are still pretty nice today.”

“What do they look like?”

“Marshmallows. I wonder if clouds smell good.”

“And you’re sure you’re just on antidepressants?”

“Pretty sure.” Stede blushes. There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, you’re right, the clouds are really fuckin’ pretty today.”

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird: It is I, DNG, here to blow your mind with something weird.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Not all of these songs you’re posting are weird! Some of them are, Andraste spare us, sweet and pretty and hopeful.

Well, listen the fuck up! Today’s is weird as fuck. Also epic and soooooo cool.

Automatonic Electronic Harmonics by Steam Powered Giraffe is really fuckin’ strange and creepy and you’re not still reading this are, you? You’re mesmerized by that music video. Just mesmerized. No point in saying any more here, is there? Nope. Bye.

Comments: BigDawgFangie: This is a nice blog. I do not understand your taste in music though. BlueSwedeShoes86: That’s because it isn’t YODEL IT BigDawgFang: What is Yodel It? PracticallyGayJesus: DO NOT ASK HIM ABOUT YODEL IT!!!!!!

---

In hindsight, Stede could have chosen a better time of year to have a mental breakdown.

However, also in hindsight, at least he doesn’t have to worry about Christmas shopping this year.

But still, it’s the 25th of December and he’s sad. Not a deep sadness, not one that permeates his bones and weighs him down. He’s just bummed that he’s spending the holidays here instead of with his kids. His family.

He wonders if they’ll spend it with Doug instead. He catches himself frowning at that and decides he’s going to need an extra therapy session this week.

It isn’t even like he enjoys Christmas. Nobody in his family is religious. Sure, his parents were for show, in order to impress whoever they needed to impress, but for Stede et al, Christmas was a strictly secular affair. It was about guiltily piling as many presents as possible under the tree as he could, finding something expensive and outlandish to give Mary in order to make up for all of his failings.

So, actually, in hindsight, maybe it wasn’t such a big deal.

But he does miss the food.

He doesn’t expect to have visitors today, though it’s allowed. So he’s confused when Nurse Bonny grabs him and leads him to the entrance to St. Anne’s Behavioral, where there’s a commercially-decorated artificial tree. And he certainly doesn’t anticipate being bowled over by his children.

Some surprises are nice.

“Daddy! Merry Chr- Merry Festivus daddy!” Alma says as he pulls her and Louis in for a hug.

“Festivus? Is that what we’re calling it now?” He looks up at Mary, who has her arms crossed and is smiling at him.

“We decided to create our own traditions this year,” she says.

“Like visiting daddy in a mental hospital?” Stede asks as the kids run off to the reception desk to ask for candy.

“Stede Bonnet, if you make this a tradition I swear to god…”

“Okay, okay! We’ll stick to airing of grievances.”

Mary shakes her head. “We did that in the car on the way.”

“Any I should know about?”

“No.”

“And it’s a good idea to… bring them here?” A place like this would have scared the fuck out of Stede as a kid. But he supposes that Alma and Louis are a tad braver than he is.

“We’re just staying out front with the decorations, no need to go inside. But Stede, how are you?” Mary beckons to a set of chairs and they both sit down.

“I’m pretty good, I think. All things considered. It’s not exactly a vacation, and I can’t wait to leave. But… I’m feeling pretty all right?”

“Just all right?”

“Yeah, but more all right than I’ve felt most of my life.”

“Well, that’s good.” Alma and Louis join them with coloring books and word searches.

“I… don’t have a present or anything,” Stede says.

“You’re here. You’re still around for them. That’s all you need to give them right now.”

Stede doesn’t quite agree. “I want to do more though. I want to be the dad I couldn’t be before. It’s too late to be the husband you needed-”

“I don’t need a gay husband, Stede. You never could be who I needed. And I couldn’t be who you needed. And that’s okay.”

Stede purses his lips and sits in silence for a few seconds. “I guess… it is okay. Huh.” He’s still getting used to the feeling of a happy middle, a peaceful existence between the rapidly changing highs and lows of his previous life. He’s learning to accept that it is okay to just be okay. It isn’t a failure to be less than the best. Feeling good at all is success.

He turns to Mary. “So… Doug, eh?”

Mary smiles. “Yeah, Doug.”

“How long? Have you been together, if I might ask?”

Mary looks at him back. “Are you sure this is a conversation you can have yet?”

“I think so. It’s okay. I just want to know.”

“Longer than I want to admit. Over a year.”

“Wow,” Stede sits back and waits for jealousy to wash over him, or anger at being lied to for so long, or a sense of loss… and he doesn’t feel any of those things.

“Do you… love him? Mary?”

“I do, Stede. I have for a while, now.”

They sit in silence for a while, enjoying the peace of the day. Festivus. Stede decides that it's time to perform his feat of strength.

“Mary?”

“Hmmm?”

“What does it feel like? To be in love?”

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird: DNG here bringing the heat of passion straight to your loins.

Just kidding, that’s what LucyFlawless is for.

What’s better than yodeling, you ask? Family. Family is better than yodeling, especially if it’s your chosen family, and you’ve told the rest to get carked.

Maybe you’ve gone through some hard times lately, or are helping someone else through hard times. Just know that inside, we’ve all got a beating warrior heart to carry us through to victory. You might have to take off a whole lot of armor to find it, but it’s there.

This is for you, chosen family member. Warrior Heart by Rhapsody of Fire.

Comments: BlueSwedeShoes86: Whatever. You could also yodel it when you have problems DreadNordGreybeard: no you can’t

Chapter 29

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 27: 5150

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Stede Bonnet is having an out of body experience.

He sits in the Emergency Room, head resting on Ed’s shoulder, knowing that he feels tired and a bit sad, but not much else. And he can’t do anything about anything. He doesn’t know if he doesn’t want to, or just can’t. He gets the sense that Earth is still turning, but his soul is at a standstill.

Ed hands Stede his own phone so he can unlock it and text Mary. Tell everyone he’s okay. But Stede just stares at the phone for a while. He can see it. He knows he’s supposed to do something with it. But the connection from his brain to his fingers to the phone back to his brain is broken.

Ed finally places Stede’s finger against the fingerprint sensor and unlocks it so he can text Mary. Soon Ed has become Stede, Stede’s entire social life, telling his wife and his crew and whoever seems to care even a little what Stede cannot. That he’s okay, he’s alive.

Stede doesn’t really believe that he is.

Mary arrives, and he just stares ahead as she gives him the scolding of his lifetime, or pulls him into a hug, or rubs his shoulder. He’s an empty vessel that is simultaneously too full for input.

Stede had begun to reclassify all of the people in his life in his mind, so it wouldn’t hurt. So he could leave. Mary is Doug’s wife, Alma and Louis are their children. Ed is someone else’s friend.

But they’re still here? With him?

He’s called back to see the doctor. Stede gets up to follow the nurse, and sees that Mary is coming with him. He turns back to look at Ed. He has a question that he doesn’t know how to ask.

“Not going anywhere, mate, I promise.”

Stede nods, and imagines himself smiling back, and isn’t sure if he actually does. He follows the nurse. It’s easy to follow directions. It’s easy to surrender control of his life to people who know better how to care for it.

---

When Mary returns to the waiting room hours later, it’s alone.

This wasn’t how she’d pictured losing her husband. She’d wanted her marriage to end. She hadn’t expected Stede to want everything to end.

His friend (boyfriend?) is still in the same spot. He’s on the phone with someone. He spots her and waves her over.

“Hang on, she’s come back out, I need to know what’s going on. Call you back?” He tucks the phone in his back pocket and looks up at her.

“He okay?”

“Uh, no?” Ed’s eyes widen. “I mean, he’s a total mess, I don’t know what happened! We were texting and everything right up until this morning.” She sits down. “I think they’re going to keep him.”

“How long?”

“The full 72 hours, probably. After that, they have to find a place for him in a specialized hospital.”

“But he’s going to be ok?”

Mary shrugs. How is she supposed to know? “The doctor said it isn’t the worst he’s seen, and he came willingly and seems to want to get help, so I think he has a good chance.” She sighs. “I don’t know what to tell the kids.”

“I have a friend who helps people through this kind of thing for a living, he is a bit of an asshole but I can probably guilt him into giving you some advice.”

Mary sits down and sighs. She feels pangs of guilt coming from all directions. Why didn’t he tell me he was struggling? How could he do this to this family? Why didn’t I insist on helping him sooner? Who the fuck is this Ed guy? If I hadn’t been with Doug, could I have stopped this? What kind of asshole doesn't even try to say goodbye?

“We’re gonna need so much family therapy,” she sighs.

“Hey, therapy is awesome. Everyone should go to therapy.”

Mary smiles and holds out her hand. “We weren’t formally introduced. I’m Mary, Stede’s soon-to-be-ex-wife.”

Ed shakes it. “I’m Ed, the owner of Stede’s favorite rage room.”

“What is a rage room?”

“Oh, it’s a business where you destroy lots of objects, glasses, appliances, that sort of thing. To get it out of your system.”

“And… that works?”

“Clearly it fuckin’ doesn’t,” Ed mutters.

Mary laughs. “I’m sure this isn’t your fault, Ed.”

“Well, in case you change your mind and decide to sue, don’t bother, I’m shutting it down soon anyway.”

“Why? Because of Stede?”

“No. I mean, that’s part of it. But I’m just bored with it. I want to do something new. Stede was going through some big life changes and I thought… we could both make some big changes. Together maybe.” Ed still doesn’t meet her eye.

“Are you Stede’s boyfriend, Ed?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be Stede’s boyfriend?”

Ed blushes, just a little. “I mean… I guess we’ll see. When he’s better.”

Mary smiles at him. “Well… I hope he’s smart enough to agree. It would be good to have someone like you in his life.”

“He has me no matter what.”

Eventually Ed gets back on the phone, and Mary pretends to read a magazine so it doesn’t seem like she’s eavesdropping.

“Don’t hold out on me, Iz. You know the best, I want the best. The best fuckin’ facility you can get a bed in. 72 hours. I promise you, he can afford it. Who do you think dropped a 20 grand donation on Los Robles the other week? The fuckin’ tooth fairy? Stede fuckin’ Bonnet, that’s who.”

“He did what?” Mary mutters to herself. What the fuck has Stede been spending money on?

“No, I don’t know if he’d be into art therapy. A-animals? Animal therapy? What’s that, just having, like, a dog?” Ed looks over at Mary. “Does Stede want a dog?”

“Don’t get Stede a dog, Ed.”

“Izzy says he doesn’t have to get a dog, they have horses.”

“I don’t think Stede should be buying a horse, either.”

“Iz, does Stede get to keep the horse? No? He doesn’t get to keep the horse. Moot point.” Mary nods. “Ok on temporary horses, ok on art. Look, do you want to just talk to his wife? She probably knows more about him than I do…”

Mary shakes her head. “I really, really don’t.”

“What about water therapy? I know it’s for physical shit, Iz, I meant for me. My knee got fucked up at Jack’s. And don’t- listen, I don’t need a lecture from you. Get Stede a bed and me someplace to unfuck my knee and I’ll pay your fuckin’ rent for a year. Oh, and I need someone to get my bike. It’s at Pigeon Point. Yes, I know how far that is, dickfuck, I was just there.”

The conversation continues, and Mary sits back with a newfound sense of hope. With friends like these, Stede will be fine.

---

Stede Bonnet,

This is an apology. I handled things the wrong way. I interfered when I shouldn’t have. Said some things that aren’t true. I got you a bed at St. Anne’s Behavioral. Get better so I can do this in person. Jim, Wande, Buttons et al say hi.

~Izzy Hands

PS: You break Ed again, you buy him. I mean it.

Stede holds the card in his hands. It had arrived attached to a bouquet of flowers. Blue hyacinths, white orchids, sunflowers. Apology flowers. Pretty.

Nobody who has truly wounded Stede has ever apologized to him before, not sincerely.

It feels… hopeful?

There’s hope. There’s help.

There are so many flowers around Stede right now from all his friends. He accepts it now, that they are truly friends. They didn’t have to care about him, they could have let him drop off the face of the earth. But they didn’t. They had kept trying.

Stede realizes that he needed that. He needed people in his life who thought he was worth trying for.

And if he’s worth trying for, isn’t it worth trying for them? Isn’t it worth making an effort? You only get one life.

Maybe Stede’s life is worth fighting for, just for a bit longer.

---

It’s been 48 hours, and Ed doesn’t even pretend there’s anywhere else he’d rather be. If Stede can have visitors, Ed will be there. He arrives with a bouquet of sunflowers. He’d already sent flowers ahead the day before, but he was worried that there wouldn’t be enough, that Stede would be sitting in an empty, colorless hospital room.

He needn’t have worried. The fucking things are everywhere when he arrives.

“Ed,” Stede says softly as Ed enters and admires the garden.

“Stede,” Ed replies, “Jesus, how many are there?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really counted.” Stede looks around. “They are lovely though, aren’t they?”

“Fuck yeah. Never seen so many.”

“How are you doing, Ed? Has it been difficult for you?”

Ed places his bouquet on the floor and sits down. “Fuck, Stede, I’m fine, it’s you I’m worried about. Talk to me, how are you feeling.”

Stede twists his mouth to the side, thinking. “I think… I’m better, maybe? I don’t feel much, good or bad. I’m just sort of… existing.”

“They got you on anything?”

Stede nods. “Oh. yeah. I don’t know what the meds are called. But they won’t kick in for a while. Just have to wait, you know?”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

Stede looks at him and smiles, just a little. “Yeah. I’ve waited this long to be happy. What’s a few more months, right?”

“That’s the spirit.” Ed fistbumps Stede’s shoulder.

In return, Stede squeezes Ed’s hand.

“I’m sorry, Ed. For putting yo- everyone through this. There was a better way.”

“You weren’t thinking clearly. It’s okay.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever thought clearly. But… some things are more clear to me than ever. If that makes sense.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know… why I am the way I am, for starters.”

“You mean… gay?”

“I mean everything. But that, too.” Stede looks Ed in the eyes and takes a deep breath. “Listen, Ed…”

“You don’t have to say something just to make me feel good, Stede.”

“I’m not. Just… do you still feel? Some kind of way, about me?”

Ed doesn’t know which answer Stede wants to hear, which one will do damage, so he goes with the truth. “Yeah, man. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I’ve loved… I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I’m sorry for springing it on you when I did. It was wrong.”

Stede nods. “It was the wrong time… but not the wrong feeling? If that makes sense?”

Something warm leaps in Ed’s heart.

“I mean… I might have felt the same way, and maybe still do? You felt like…” Stede thinks about it for a second. “Like, family? Safe? Like a warm blanket? Like I could be who I am around you? And it felt good.”

“Felt good?”

“I think it still does, feel good. Except I can’t feel much right now. Everything is dull.” Stede looks down and plays with the edge of his hospital gown. “But I want to feel that again. For you. I hope I do. I want that for you. And for me.”

“Stede, it’s no pressure. You’ve had too much happen in your life and you need to get better. Then we can talk about those feelings more.”

Stede nods and looks back at him. “Ed, I’d like… a have a few favors to ask of you.”

“Anything, man, name it.”

“Will you… wait for me? To get out of the hospital?”

“Of course, Stede, it won’t be that long.”

“They said it could be a month or two. We haven’t known each other that long…”

Ed grabs Stede’s hand.

“Stede, nothing I feel for you has changed or will change. I care about you now when you’re like this, right? I want to get to know you when you’re happy.”

Stede’s face almost cracks into a smile at that, as deadened as his emotions are.

“Thank you. Also…” Stede looks around at the flowers. “Could you take care of my plants? I don’t think most of them will last, but that monstera deliciosa should be okay.”

“I’ve got a couple of my own, mate, it’ll look even better by the time I’m through with it.”

“Thanks.” Stede squeezes Ed’s hand. “There’s… one more thing.”

“Name it.”

“I don’t have my phone right now so I had Mary print out the information. It’s in a folder in that drawer over there.”

Ed pulls out the folder and opens it. He smiles.

“Can you look after it for me, Ed? There’s no one else I’d trust with it.”

Ed chuckles. “Yeah, mate. It would be an honor.”

Chapter 28

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 20: 'Di Na Muli

Summary: Stede tries to give in to a bad impulse, but Ed is there to stop him.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Ed: what are you up to?

Stede: drinking

Ed: in a hotel or?

Stede: bar

Stede: its te 21st

Ed: ehat does that mean?

Stede: aniversary

Ed: are you alone

Stede: yes

Ed: do you want to be alone

Stede: no

Ed parks his bike in the street a couple of blocks from the bar. He makes sure both of the helmets he brought with him are snugly attached and hopes to god Stede isn’t too drunk to hold on.

The man of the hour is sitting alone at the bar when Ed arrives.

“What’s your poison?” Ed asks, sliding onto an adjacent stool.

“Revolver,” Stede replies, signaling the bartender.

“Woah… what?”

“It’s the drink… it’s like a Manhattan.” Stede sighs, comically blowing out his cheeks. “It has oranges in it.”

“Ah.” Ed eyes his friend, who is definitely looking droopy and tired.

Stede finally gets the bartender’s attention. “They never fuckin’... they don’t see me when… Hi! Another one of these please?” He pokes at the empty cocktail class and looks at Ed. “What do you want, Ed? I’m buying.”

“I think I need to stay sober tonight, man.”

“Why, you workin’?”

“Someone’s gotta drive you home.”

Stede sighs. “I don’t have a home. I’m in a hotel.”

“I’ll drive you there, then. I mean, unless…” Ed bites his lip as Stede looks at him questioningly. “You seem pretty drunk? Maybe you should take my couch tonight. You know. Keep you safe.”

Stede smiles at that, and Ed can almost feel the warmth from his body. “You’re really my friend, Ed.”

“Yeah, I tell you that all the time.”

Stede takes a deep breath and pulls in his new drink. “Funeral’s tomorrow.”

“Yeah? You gonna be all right to go?”

“Yeah. I wrote some stuff. But my suit…”

“We can pick it up.”

“I have to do what I came for first.” Stede points out the window across the street.

Ed is momentarily confused. “That’s an art gallery, mate.”

Stede nods. “Mary’s show.”

“Oh shit, that’s tonight! Did you go? Show your support?”

Stede shakes his head. “Still trying to get… the courage, you know?” He knocks back the Revolver before Ed can grab it.

“Hey, if you’re going in there, you shouldn’t be… this drunk.”

“I’ll be as drunk as I want to be.” Stede sighs.

“I know you’re upset, man. But going in there like that is areallybad-”

“All my ideas are bad,” Stede mutters, pushing himself to his feet. “Now or never, eh?”

Ed follows gingerly behind Stede, ready to catch him if he falls over, or stop him from doing… whatever stupid thing he has in mind.

The stupid thing is apparently grabbing a chunk of concrete from the street and hurling it at the gallery window.

“Fuck! No, don’t do that.” Ed grabs Stede’s arm before he can throw it, almost too distracted to notice how much muscle he hides under those expensive dress shirts. “She doesn’t even own this business Stede.”

“Doug’s in there.”

“Yeah? Then maybe you should stay out here, you think?”

Stede’s shoulders slump. “They say that about… everything.”

“I know. It isn’t fair-”

Stede makes for the door and Ed has to practically wrestle him to the ground.

“Ed! He took my life. I have nothing and she just… she haseverything she wants. And it isn’t me.”

“Stede… listen. You’re going to be okay. Nothing you do in there will make things better. Are you listening?”

Stede stops struggling and sits with his back to the wall. “I didn’t think that last Thanksgiving would be the last one. With my family.”

“Who says it was the last one?”

Stede doesn’t answer. He stares at his wedding ring, twisting it back and forth. Finally, he sighs.

“Okay. We should go.”

“Can you get on my bike? Will you be able to hold on?”

Stede nods and gets shakily to his feed.

“I’m gonna help you when you’re drunk someday, Ed.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what friends do.”

They plod the couple of blocks to Ed’s bike. Ed helps Stede buckle on the extra helmet.

“You gotta straddle the bike behind me, okay? And then hold on tight.”

“Mmhmm.” Stede’s eyes are on Ed’s torso as he awkwardly stumble-climbs behind him. Then he grabs Ed around the middle so tightly he can barely breathe.

“That’s plenty tight, mate.”

“How are you so warm?” Stede mumbles into his back as he starts the engine.

Ed takes his time heading back to his apartment. For safety reasons, of course. Not because he’s soaking up the feeling of Stede’s cheek on his shoulder, Stede’s breath on his neck. Not because he’s imagining that Stede’s clinging is more out of affection than drunken anxiety. Not because he wants to imprint this in his memory, to never forget it. It’s just to be safe.

When they arrive, Stede stumbles onto Ed’s couch with another sigh as Ed joins him.

“You know, Stede, if the hotel isn’t doing it for you…” Ed’s voice trails off. He’s distinctly aware of the different paths this night could take. There are a host of demons on one of his shoulders and another host of angels on the other.

“Yeah? What is it?” Stede asks sleepily.

“You could… stay on the couch for longer. Stay with me for a while. Y’know, as friends.”

“Mmhmm. Friends.” Stede is looking at Ed with those hazel eyes… and Edknowsthat there’s more behind them than friendship, knows that all it would take is one kiss, one lean-in to change Stede’s life forever. Maybe even for the better. It would be so easy.

Yeah, he’s drunk. Ed has done way more with men who were even more drunk. He can’t remember half of his sexual encounters. It’s not a big deal, is it? It wouldn’t be a big deal.

For someone like Ed.

So he leans in for just a split second before what must be a thousand tiny, furious angels pull him back to reality.

Not tonight.

“Ed? When we get my suit, can we go to the rage room for a bit? Just before the funeral?” Stede rubs his eyes. “I’m going to need to beso fucking calmto deal with everything tomorrow.”

Ed pats Stede’s shoulder. “Yeah man, whatever you need.”

Eventually he returns to his room alone, wondering how many angels it will take to hold him back next time.

---

Excerpt from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Ang dami daming bagay na hindi naman kailangan Kung pwede lang bawasan natin ang mga tampuhan Hindi mo lang alam hindi mo pa nararanasan Kahapon sana natin di mo na pinahirapan

I’m sorry again.

Never again.

Comments: WandeRection: Are we just posting lyrics now? it’s giving me myspace

Chapter 21

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 19: I wish

Summary: Stede gets a final bit of news. Ed is there to comfort him.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

To: Stede Bonnet CC: Jackie Delahaye, Lucius Spriggs Follow-Up Appointment w/ Delahaye y Associates

Mr Bonnet, this is a request for a follow-up with Jacqualine Delayahe regarding the issues you and I discussed yesterday. Sra Delahaye is interested in representing your case thanks to the information you have provided and a recommendation from mutual friends. The recordings provided by Mr. Spriggs are of course not admissible in court, but the knowledge they provided should make the discovery process interesting for all parties. Please call me at your earliest convenience to schedule an appointment.

Ivan Derawal, Legal Assistant to Jaqueline Delahaye Delahaye y Associatesal, Legal Assistant to Jaqueline Delahaye

---

Stede: Ed.

Ed: Stede.

Stede: She took the case.

Ed: i knew jackie would be all over it

Ed: nervous?

Stede: Yes. I don’t even speak Spanish!

Ed: neither does she lol

Stede: Then why does she go by “Sra Delahaye?”

Stede: Why is it “Delahaye y associates?”

Ed: fuck if i know

Ed: say hi to ivan for me

---

Stede is too tired to rage. Perhaps a better term would be, “numb.” It’s probably a good thing, he thinks. He’s gone through so much these last few months, felt so much, that feeling very little at all is a… comfortable reprieve? He can just lie on his bed in his hotel room, watching mindless garbage on the TV, endlessly scrolling social media, or staring at the wall. Nothing is happening. And that’s good. Right?

It isn’t that he’s physically tired, per se. His brain just needs a break. He needs a vacation, or the opportunity to just shut down. Not have to talk to anyone, not have to be there for anyone. There’s value in being alone. That doesn’t mean he’s lonely. Right?

And he can go down and see Ed any time. He can invite Ed out anytime he wants. They’re friends. It isn’t a big deal if he isn’t feeling up to it now, if he hasn’t for a couple of days. That’s normal, healthy boundaries in a friendship. Not that he would know… but he’s guessing that’s normal.

His phone buzzes on the end table beside him. He hopes it’s Ed doing the heavy lifting of inviting Stede to hang out. He also hopes it isn’t Ed, so he doesn’t have to go out and do anything.

It’s neither.

“Hey, Mary, what is it?”

“Stede, your dad has been trying to contact you.”

“Mary, I blocked him, you know why, don’t be his flying monkey. You should block him too.”

“It’s about your mom.”

When Stede gets off the phone he sets it on his chest and stares at the ceiling for a long time.

---

The fourteenth time Stede enters Ed’s rage room he’s already fast-forwarded to the crying part.

He sits on the couch and Ed pulls him into a hug and they stay like that as time slips by.

“I wish she’d loved me, Ed.”

“I do too, Stede.”

“I wish I could have heard it from her, just once.”

“I do too. You deserved it.”

“I wish I’d been brave enough to ask for it.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask for love, Stede, you should just have it.”

“I wish my life wasn’t falling apart. I wish I could be there for you, too.”

“You are, mate. You’re doing just great. You’ll get through it.”

Ed wishes they could stay like that forever. He wishes he could pull Stede in for a kiss. He wishes he could invite Stede home with him, just to hold and be held. He wishes they could be something real. He wishes he were brave enough to say something, or do something, to make Stede see what he’s missing. He wishes Stede would accept being loved by him the way Ed desperately loves him.

He wishes he could say any of that out loud, and be accepted and understood.

---

Post from the blog Hear Something Weird:

Battlebeast - I wish

Comments: DreadNordGreybeard: I’m sorry to hear about your mom, man. I’m here for you. HearSomethingWeird: I know. Thank you.

Chapter 20

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 18: Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)

Summary: Stede gets clarity on the state of his marriage, but mixed messages on his relationship with Ed.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

Stede grabs the flier and checks the date for the fifth time while Ed grabs a couple of coffees. He hadn’t talked with Mary, not yet. He knows they need to talk about their relationship, their future, what she wants, what he wants. But he’s no closer to knowing what he wants. He keeps pushing back the discussion, hoping that the answer will come to him. Some sort of inspiration dropped on his head to tell him, this is what you were meant to do with your life, and this is how to make it work and keep your family happy at the same time. But that inspiration hasn’t come in all these years, has it? Not even once.

So he makes good on his promise to someone at least, taking Ed out for coffee, catching a movie, going to bars with the crew, reading over resumés for Lucius. He’s being a good husband and father… just to people he didn’t marry and children he didn’t sire. But they need him, don’t they? Someone like him. They seem to think so. They seem to think that he belongs with them.

Only the flier to Mary’s art show has been haunting him for a while now, deposited unceremoniously on the passenger seat of his car. And when he’d picked Ed up for coffee, Ed had sat on it with a crunch, and Stede had apologized, ready to throw it away when he’d noticed the date.

November 20th.

Their wedding anniversary.

“What does it mean when she plans an event on our anniversary?” Stede asks himself out loud. “Does this mean she’s giving up? I thought…” He’d thought he might surprise her with some sort of romantic gesture. Not that he knew what to do, really. He knew what people did in movies, sure, but years of effort had always fallen flat. Stede still shudders at the year he had bought the family cruise tickets only to find out Mary hated cruises and got seasick. He should have known that, right?

“Here’s your coffee, mate,” Ed says, sitting down at the table. “What you got there?”

“Oh, nothing. My wife has this art show.”

“Oh, what kind of art? Must be nice being married to an artist.”

“I… I’m not sure.” Stede doesn’t know what kind of art Mary does, or if she’s any good. He supposes her art instructor would know. Doug? Right, Doug.

“When is it? You’re gonna support her, right?”

Stede blinks. “Yeah, I should. I mean, it’s on our anniversary.”

Ed chews on a pastry slowly, not sure how to respond to that.

“I mean… good way to celebrate? I dunno, never been married.”

“I don’t know a good way to celebrate either, honestly.” Stede sighs and looks up at Ed. “Oh.”

“What?” Ed asks, looking at Stede.

“You cut your beard? It’s a different style.”

“Oh, right! Was tired of getting crumbs all up in it all the time, thought I’d go for a cleaner look, you know?”

Stede smiles. “I like it. But… still crumbs…” He reaches forward and picks something out of Ed’s beard, and though he also notices that he can see Ed’s blush with this shorter style, he licks his lips but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You want some good advice?” Ed asks.

“About what?” Stede whispers.

“Your… how to celebrate an anniversary. Because I don’t have any, but Fang is usually good at that kind of stuff…”

Stede waves it away with his hand. All of a sudden the man sitting in front of him seems much more important than whatever he’s doing on the 20th of November.

---

Arriving home feels like sailing from one universe to the next. He feels like, out there, there are possibilities. But right here, in his mansion that is embarrassingly large for a family of four, he’s treading water. He’s still where he was. He’s no closer to making a connection. And he knows for sure, for sure, in his mind that family is the most important thing. Should be the most important thing. His wife, his children. He has time now. He’s quit his job. He doesn’t have to get a new one for a while, not with how well his finances have been managed. But he still doesn’t feel like he fits here.

He feels like a ghost haunting the premises. And he feels a pang in his heart when he realizes that his mother was right. Her haunting has become his.

But Lazarus came back from the dead, and hospitals can do so much these days, so maybe there’s a way to revive him? To repair things? To-

There’s a noise coming from her- their bedroom. One he hasn’t heard in a long time. He shuts the door gently, silently, and closes his eyes. He could leave now and pretend. He could be a coward, tell himself he heard nothing. He can run in there with fists flying and raging… no, he can’t and won’t do either of those things.

He’s going to…

Oh god.

He’s going to just face it and see what happens.

So Stede pushes open the door to their bedroom as Mary rides Doug the painting instructor like a pony. Stede’s too quiet, they don’t notice him. Of course not, nobody ever… stop pitying yourself.

He knocks gently on the door.

Mary and Doug look at him simultaneously.

Mary gasps. “Stede, I-”

Stede holds up his hands. “I know, I know. I’m going to put on some tea, all right? Let’s have the talk. Hello, Doug, and welcome to our home.”

“Uh… hi?” Doug asks, looking up at Mary, but Stede has already headed to the kitchen.

---

It’s the thirteenth time Stede has set foot in Ed’s rage room (but who’s counting?). Well, it will be. If he can get in there. He sits for a good half hour in his car, in the parking lot. There is so much on his mind. He doesn’t want to dump it all on Ed. Ed didn’t ask to be involved in this. Stede has so many problems, and he knows that soon it will be too much. He’ll scare Ed away. Ed who is so strong, who has been through so many real struggles, who seems to accept life with such ease…

What does Stede have to offer Ed? As a friend, that is. Stede still doesn’t really know what a friend does. He’s known what bullies do, what enemies do, and has always just assumed that friends are… the opposite of that?

But anyway, he’s here. He can’t… return to the house tonight. He already told Mary he’s staying in a hotel. For a little bit. Until they meet with lawyers. To sort it all out.

Stede closes his eyes and remembers pulling crumbs out of Ed’s beard that morning. It felt so simple. Why can’t everything be that simple? Why can’t all problems be solved that way?

He gets out of the car and leans against it with a sigh.

“Ugh, not you,” Stede hears from his left side, and it doesn’t even occur to him that that type of speech would be directed at someone besides him, so he looks up.

It’s Ed’s friend.

“Uh, hi. Iggy, I think it was?”

“Izzy,” the man replies with clenched teeth, and Stede has no clue what he’s done but he holds up his hands to look as unthreatening as possible for the second time that day.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I barely know you!”

Izzy walks up and wags a finger in Stede’s face. “Exactly. You haven’t even tried. You come here to spend time with Edward, and flirt with him and dangle money in his face, and I’m sick of you, all of you lot.”

Stede would take a step back if he wasn’t already backed up against his car. “Flirting? I’m not- oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not gay, I’m just his friend!”

“Yeah but he doesn’t feel that way, does he?” Izzy points to Blackbeard’s Breakery. “You’ve got him pining over something he can’t have, and I will have to deal with it.”

“Ed is just my friend and he knows he’s just my friend! Leave him the fuck alone!” Stede feels anger rising in his chest.

“You assholes in your shiny skyscrapers are always digging around here, treating people like Ed like your playthings. You aren’t there when he needs a shoulder to cry on, when he’s in a bad way-”

“Does he, is he?” Stede stands up and makes his way towards the building, suddenly concerned.

“Oh, no you-” Izzy grabs Stede by the arm as the bell on the door rings, and there’s Ed tossing on his leather jacket.

Izzy drops his grip on Stede’s arm and shakes his hand instead.

“Good to see you again, mate,” he mutters, walking to Ed’s side.

“Hey, Iz,” Ed greets him before noticing Stede. “Stede! Oh man, I was just gonna take Iz out, it’s his day off and…”

Stede gets his breath back and gives a weak smile. “It’s all right Ed, I just came here to let off some steam, you have a good time.”

“Are you sure? Is there anything you want to…”

“No, is Fang in? Maybe I’ll take him up on that advice…” Stede pushes past them both into the building.

“No worries then, night Stede! Text me!” Ed waves as he heads out with Izzy.

And Stede watches them leave with a mixture of anger and confusion.

“Hey, Stede! How much time you want?” Fang asks cheerfully from the desk. Stede looks over at Fang and realizes his mouth is open, so he closes it quickly.

“Oh. I don’t… I was just going to…”

“Ed said you might want some advice from me. Apparently I’m pretty good at that kind of thing.” Fang blushes.

Stede sighs and smiles wanly. “Well, I was going to ask you for advice on how to woo my wife, but it looks like we’re getting a divorce.”

Fang frowns. “Aw, that’s terrible, mate. Sure there’s nothing you can do to win her back?”

Stede shakes his head. “Caught her fucking her art instructor.”

Fang brings a hand to his chest in shock. “Cheating on you? Oh man, that’s terrible. Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone, right?”

Stede chokes out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Nah, he’s wonderful. I’m just going to… tell Ed hi if he gets back, I have to go find a hotel to stay in.”

“I’m sure Ed wouldn’t mind you crashing at his place. I can text him if you don’t want to ask.”

Stede doesn’t give himself the opportunity to even consider that.

“Nope! No thanks, I’ll text him later. Have a good one, Fang!”

“You too mate. Keep your chin up, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stede waves and goes back to his car. He lets the faux-friendliness fall off him in large chunks as he sighs and leans against the headrest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He flips the heater on in his car and pulls out his phone, hoping there’s a semi-decent hotel open at this time in the city.

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Post from the blog Hear Something Weird: Bang bang, he shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Nancy Sinatra Comments: MauritianSurpremacy: this song isn’t that weird or unpopular LucyFlawless: It is if you’re under the age of 75

Chapter 19