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Forever's Gonna Start Tonight by ferventrabbit, shieldmaidenofmithrilhall
Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)
08 Apr 2024
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“What you said made me think…well, it made me think of why I’ve been so excited to see this eclipse. I feel like all my life I’ve sort of missed out on things. Like I’ve never quite been in the right place.”
As the total solar eclipse approaches, two strangers meet at the top of a mountain, one with a telescope and one with a picnic basket full of eclipse treats.
Series
- Part 1 of Written in the Stars
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It feels exactly the same and completely different from that night in Stede’s - their - cabin; the same because Stede is pressed up against him, hungry for him, and utterly new because Ed told Stede that he loved him, and Stede said that Ed was his boyfriend (boyfriend!), and when Ed kissed him on the beach Stede made a noise that sounded like “welcome home.”
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Ed and Stede take turns carrying each other over the threshold of the inn. Eventually, they cross it together.
Fluff, fluff, and - what's that? - oh, more fluff.
Series
- Part 6 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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Fam, this is exactly what it sounds like.
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Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday by ferventrabbit, petrichorca
Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)
16 Jan 2024
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Dave just wanted a place to sleep for the night, but he gets a lot more than he bargained for when the owners of a seaside inn make him an unwitting participant in their wedding. Will he make it through the ceremony unscathed? And what’s that seagull doing here?
This story has it all—cute outfits, vaguely threatening auras, high romance, and more!
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Stede hasn’t worn a nightshirt since the day he died. He didn’t take any with him, for one, and delicate cotton and lace didn’t exactly lend themselves to the vista suite at Spanish Jackie’s. He’d found two squirreled away on the Revenge when he returned, stuffed into the bottom of the auxiliary wardrobe with faint smudges of kohl along the hems. Even then he mostly slept in a pair of loose breeches or nothing at all - a prospect that would have shocked him weeks ago. He doesn’t miss it, necessarily, but he finds himself grabbing one of the shirts as he and Ed settle for the night at the inn. It’s the thought of the fabric sliding up as he sleeps, of Ed sidled up behind him, of cool air and Ed’s hand pressing against the back of his thigh, of Ed’s lips brushing his neck.
Fam it's just straight up nightie porn what can I say.
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Ed’s fallen asleep again - he usually does once the port’s run dry. Stede had heard so many stories about the dread pirate Blackbeard as to paint a grisly picture: head curled in smoke, a murderous shadow looming over the deck, a gun in each hand and a knife between his teeth. It was all nonsense, of course, though Stede knows Ed can cut a fearsome figure if he wants to. He wonders at the songs they’d sing of Blackbeard now, head tucked gently into his chest, hair falling over his face like curtains.
Five times Stede wakes Ed up, and one time Ed returns the favor.
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He’s never met Stede before, but apparently his dad wrote that book they make everyone read in college - “Hunting the Shot” or “Shooting the Hunt” - something like that. Stede Bonnet of the erstwhile Bonnet Productions. Ed’s worked with these types for twenty years. He’d imagined a guy like Stede in an air-conditioned tent with a cup of tea, or calling the shots from a comfortable room somewhere far off. Ed’s surprised that a fancy producer-type like Stede is here on the teetering edge of the Himalayas, camped in a city whose roads and buildings converge on the site of a fallen palace. The crew has been in the hills for some time.
They’ve come to find a snow leopard.
Documentary videographer Ed Teach retired at the top of his game five years ago. An odd request from documentary producer Stede Bonnet has lured him back into the field to join a film crew in the mountains of India. Ed and Stede are looking for a snow leopard, but end up finding something unexpected along the way.
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It’s thirteen days after the fuckery, and Ed can see light like stars through tiny holes in the coffin. He’s practiced this, but the urge to shove the lid off and make a break for it is so strong that he has to cross his arms over his chest and bite his lip hard. It will be hours until they reach Evelyn’s, and that’s if the weather holds. If he does get caught at least he’s already in his place of rest, so to speak. Easy cleanup. And it will be nice to give the English one last scare by rising from the dead, recorded in the history books as “the Brief and Horrible Return of the Dread Pyrate Blackbeard” by some bloke from somefuckingwhere.
The fuckery after their inevitable discovery at the inn, and what it means for Ed.
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He hadn’t touched Stede much, the morning after the night before. He woke up in Stede’s arms and snuck away to bury Blackbeard at sea. Stede talked about their line of work over a tray of things that Ed had carefully assembled with his heart in his throat. It all sort of unraveled from there, he thinks. He’s touched Stede since then, but he’d also lost the person who had been by his side for most of his life, had stepped on land without knowing when he’d step off again, and told Stede he loved him. Pretty eventful few days. So now he just sits and looks, and lets his fingers sweep across Stede’s temple, his cheek. He’s kissed Stede since that morning, too, but it had felt huge and loud and urgent - plus it was kind of mid-battle, which did a lot for him in the moment but didn’t give him a chance to ease into it, to see where it took them. In some ways it’s more thrilling to sit across him in this shitty house with the candle burning low.
Truly just an entire fic of them making out in this shitty house.
Series
- Part 1 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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Stede clears his throat. “And, you know, the boys at school would fool around. It was a done thing. But I was too afraid to, I think. Because I knew it would mean something different, for me, and I was afraid that they would know. And I was already the butt of the joke, especially at first.”
Ed doesn’t bother telling him that a few of those assholes probably fancied blokes as well. It’s not about missing out on dry humping in a posh dorm with other posh kids. He pictures Stede when they first met, surrounded by beautiful things and people who were practically strangers. He remembers how excited Stede had been to show Ed his wardrobe, but he also remembers the apologetic look Stede gave him, as if to say “aren’t I silly, it’s okay to laugh.” Ed wonders if anyone ever told Stede that it was okay. All of it.
Discussion of first times and new discoveries under the Wee John blanket.
Series
- Part 1 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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Ed takes a drag on the pipe and coughs for about five minutes before unfurling the letter on his lap. A jolt of panic zips through him - it’s Lucius’ handwriting. “Dear Captains,” it begins, but above that someone has written the names “Jeff” and “Steve” in blocky letters. Ed’s first thought is that Stede will be chuffed that another member of the crew is learning to write, but then it’s straight back to panic as he reads the rest.
The crew of the Revenge pay the innkeepers a visit.
Series
- Part 5 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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He’s never given much thought to how his body looks. It’s served its purpose well enough and occasionally to great effect, looming over enemies or collecting hungry touches in the dark. Now he’s hyperconscious of every change. The calluses on his hands have faded and his knee is quiet for once, only smarting when he gets up too fast. But the real difference is the soft places around his middle, his inner thighs, and skin around his hips. He’s not sure what to make of it.
Ed tries to figure out how he feels about his body post-piracy.
Series
- Part 2 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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Ed collapses in his arms, taking both of them to the floor. Stede has seen him cry before today - it always struck him as subdued, like there was a thin line that Ed approached but never crossed, a veil draped over. Now it’s lifted.
Stede comforts Ed after a devastating loss. (Spoilers for Season 2 of OFMD)
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Ed could never have been captain if he didn’t know how to fix every part of the ship he commanded - every plank and beam meant life or death on the high seas. He’d missed this part of the job, these last few years. It wouldn’t do to see Blackbeard hunched over hammering loose nails with the rest of the crew. But he liked mending things, setting them to rights.
Ed and Stede start sprucing up their inn and welcome some guests for a soft open.
Series
- Part 4 of Tales from a Seaside Inn
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Stede rescues Ed from a formidable eight-legged foe.
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When Ed kisses him he sort of - floats. Like he’s being lifted, buoyed. And he still feels that, mostly. But now there’s something alongside it that sort of hovers out of sight, an anchor to the earth. He tries to close his mind against it, though that strategy didn’t exactly work with the first dearly departed Badminton, if he’s honest. That ghost had staying power, he’ll give him that. He supposes that the only way the poor fellow stayed trapped on that beach was Stede’s eventual indifference. His acceptance, maybe. This feels so much harder.
Ed assures Stede that their first time was not a mistake, which Stede desperately needs (AND DESERVES) to hear.
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This is a terrible idea. Ed knows, because it’s an idea he’s had before and hitched his wagon to before and felt the consequences of before. They need to talk. Stede needs to sit with this for a minute and breathe through it, but then Stede is also pressing into him with his entire body, his teeth set to Ed’s lower lip in a bite that shocks him so much he moans into it.
My interpretation of what happened after THAT SCENE.
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“Yes, yes, yes.”
Stede wants to hear him say exactly that, over and over again.
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As requested, Stede takes it slow. -
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“You deserve to feel pretty, because you are, Ed. You’re so beautiful.”
Ed was almost crying anyway - it’s how he gets when Stede decides to dedicate an entire evening to kissing him - but now his breath hitches and he blinks against tears. “You think so?” he asks. Under normal circumstances he’d be embarrassed by how much he needs this. It’s lucky for him that being a pirate sort of takes normal circumstances off the table.
“Yes,” Stede says against his skin. “You’re so, so beautiful.”