okay but pls say more about codependent situationship jopzer in purror & erebark, i crave lore.
you know that part in seaside improvisations by richard siken where its like "tell me you love this, tell me you're not miserable" well thats like the tagline of jopzier in my catboy au. "tell me the life we've built together is something that makes you happy, tell me i'm not a huge disappointment to you, tell me that being together is enough even if you can't tell me you love me" and this mutual desire for a happy ending but the inability to articulate those desires. lore under cut:
in this au crozier has decades worth of feelings that he's always turned a blind eye to in favour of work, and then all of that is over after the failed expedition. no more work, no more exploration, no more social climbing. even the possibility of marrying sophia has disappeared (though crozier refuses to voice this outloud) and all he has is a half renovated cottage in fuckall nowhere and 5 catboys that he never asked for, one of which might be the greatest thing that's ever happened to him (and thus something doesn't deserve). and jopson knows crozier is unhappy but he doesnt know how to fix it, and crozier is unhappy because he feels like he's holding jopson back. he saved jopson from the arctic, mutinied for jopson, quit drinking for jopson and left the navy for jopson, and now jopson's doing what? stuck taking care of an aging old man who can't even afford to get him a tea set that isn't secondhand. theres a part of him that wishes jopson would leave, that thinks he could convince fitzjames to adopt jopson and make him undergo lieutenant training, but there's another part of him where, if jopson himself asked to leave, would be so incredibly angry that he would probably start drinking again.
meanwhile jopson has what could be charitably described as a deep gratitude for the man that changed his life and uncharitably described as an oedipus complex (which is what hickey calls it at every opportunity) with full awareness that he can never act on his feelings because it would legitimately ruin crozier's life. and hes hidden it well from crozier (because crozier doesn't know what normal catboy behaviour is like) but his possessiveness is obvious to nearly everyone else, whether they interpret that as love or duty or both depends on the person. at one point in tasmania crozier is called away by sir john so sophia and jopson are alone together and sophia stares at the door crozier just left through and says smth like "i think his greatest fantasy is for me to be his wife and for you to be the creature who rests beside me, half guard-dog, half lap-cat, as we wait for him to come home" and then she looks at jopson and smiles and says "maybe that's your fantasy too" and jopson is too stunned to respond.
in summary its just a constant cycle of "tell me what you want" "i want what you want" "i dont know what i want" for jopzier here, neither of them can answer the "what are we" question, thats their codependent situationship realness
"Thus Conscience Doth Make Cowards of Us All" Part Two
Our Flag Means Death fic. Part One is based around the time of 1x09, this part is around 1x10. 2.2k words.
Part One
---
“Bridgeport ahead!” yelled Buttons, pointing straight out to the town in their sightline. Olivia the seagull squawked from her perch on his head.
“Bridgeport,” repeated Ed, now cleaned up and sitting on deck with the crew. “Why does that sound familiar?”
Lucius stared at Oluwande with wide eyes as Frenchie stuttered out, “Uh, well, I think that’s the name of the town in that Shakespeare play you were reading us yesterday.”
“Was it?”
Frenchie swallowed nervously. “Yep.”
“Sure was,” added Black Pete pointlessly.
“Lovely reading, by the way,” Wee John said. He, Buttons, Roach, Ivan, and Fang had all been filled on the plan. They had tried to tell the Swede, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, so they had just told him to not worry about it.
The ones who knew the plan were in full support of it. The real plan, that was. Only Izzy labored under the delusion that they were on a quest to get the vicious pirate Blackbeard back.
Ed smoothed out the front of his—well, it could only be called a frock, really. It was frilly and fancy, just like Stede.
“Thanks,” he said with a little smile. “I thought it went quite well.”
Frenchie struggled to not laugh.
They docked in Bridgeport and as Ed, Izzy, and most of the other crew members set off in search of “something interesting,” in Ed’s words, Oluwande and his little gang set off to find Stede Bonnet.
--
“Ugh, how hard is it to find one person in this stupid town?” Lucius complained.
Jim rolled their eyes. “It’s been an hour,” they said. “You’ll live.”
“Maybe I won’t,” Lucius snapped. “Then what?”
“Babe,” said Black Pete, and he laid a hand comfortingly on Lucius’ arm. “Do you need some food?”
The writer pouted for a second, then begrudgingly said, “Maybe.”
Oluwande stretched, popping his back, then he said, “I think we could all use some food. Jim? Frenchie?”
The latter said, “Yeah, I could go for some grub.”
“I’ll take anything Roach didn’t make,” Jim agreed, and they made their way through the streets to an inn. There was a piano being hoisted up the building next to the inn, and Oluwande stared at it, confused.
Their ragtag group of five attracted many strange looks as they entered the inn, but not as many as a table across the room, where a group of rowdy men sat, all in grubby clothes save one.
“Great,” said Jim sarcastically. “Ed’s here.”
As Oluwande looked at the table, he commented, “And the whole crew.”
Jim grabbed Oluwande’s arm and tried to drag him out of the inn, but Lucius and Black Pete had already grabbed a spare table, far across the room from Ed and the gang.
As Jim tried to drag Oluwande out, none of the crew but Izzy saw them. The first mate, surrounded by drunk, happily singing pirates, shot them an angry, long-suffering look that clearly said, Get a move on with the plan.
When Oluwande looked at Jim, they were grinning. “Never mind,” they said, thrilled at Izzy’s displeasure. “Let’s wait a little longer before we find Stede Bonnet.”
“Stede Bonnet?” a voice said behind them. “The Gentleman Pirate?
There was a group of people sitting around a table, having a lunchtime drink. They were clearly manual workers, likely heavy lifters, based on the broad shoulders, sun hats, and weathered hands.
One of the men said, “Eh, not personally. But he just hired us to hoist a piano halfway up a building.”
“What?” said Jim.
Oluwande said, “The one outside? You guys only hoisted it halfway?”
One of the workers shrugged. “We just do what we’re paid to do.”
“Thanks,” Oluwande said, and he and Jim walked away.
They approached Frenchie, Black Pete, and Lucius, who hadn’t even had a chance to get food yet.
“Captain Bonnet is here, and planning something,” Oluwande said to them.
Lucius glared at him, but Black Pete asked curiously, “What?”
“Whatever it is,” guessed Frenchie, “I doubt it’s good.”
A commotion from the street drew their attention, and when Oluwande looked out the window, he spotted a familiar figure in the street with flowers in hand.
“We may just find out,” he said, running outside with the others behind.
Stede Bonnet stood, frilly as ever, in the middle of the street, gesturing to everyone with a fistful of flowers, saying, “So I would like to publicly apologize to my patient, lovely wife.”
“WIFE?” Oluwande, Jim, Lucius, Frenchie, and Black Pete said in unison, and rather loudly, much to the chagrin of the men standing around them, who all moved to the other side of the street.
Stede gestured to a brunette woman across the street standing at the front of a group of women in front of an art show.
“‘The Widow Bonnet’?” read Jim.
A low growling was heard down the street and the mentioned “widow” cried, “Stede, look out! There’s a jungle cat!”
Stede turned to stare at what was indeed a jungle cat advancing down the street toward him.
“No, no, no, no way,” said Frenchie, backing up until Jim grabbed his shirt and forced him to say. “I told you lot that cats are terrifying.”
While he muttered something about knives and witches, Oluwande narrowed his eyes, surveying the scene as Stede’s wife called his name again.
“Stay where you are, my love, I’ll handle this!” Stede called to her with great bravado, and Oluwande wondered exactly what a jungle cat was doing in the middle of town.
With the leopard following, Stede entered the doorway under the suspended piano. Puzzle pieces were clicking into place in Oluwande’s mind, even as Jim and Frenchie argued about cats and Lucius and Black Pete spoke in scandalized tones about how Stede had never mentioned a wife, and how he was calling her his “love” when he was obviously in love with Blackbeard.
Drawn by the commotion, Edward stumbled into the street.
“Stede?” he called desperately, and Oluwande said, “Ed! Over here!”
The captain turned to him with such longing that Oluwande’s heart twinged in sympathy. “We were watching him before he went in there,” Oluwande said as rattling and crashing issued from the building that Stede had gone into.
Ed started to stride toward the building, but Oluwande held an arm out. “Wait,” he said. “There’s more to this. I know it. Just wait.”
Blackbeard would have murdered Oluwande for his insolence.
Ed stopped and stared at the building, heartbroken.
Stede’s wife screamed as the leopard roared, and they heard Stede’s voice shout, “There goes my arm!”
“I need to save him!” said Ed desperately, but Oluwande and Jim both cried, “Wait!”
So the captain did, although every inch of his body strained toward a man he couldn’t even see.
There was silence for a moment, and Oluwande feared the worst.
Then Stede stumbled out of the building, covered in rich red blood, and still holding his bunch of flowers, broken and torn.
“He’s alive!” someone shouted from across the street.
Oluwande looked over at Ed to find him completely frozen, staring speechless at Stede.
“I’m fine,” called Stede. “It’s not the creature’s fault. I managed to calm him in the end. He was more scared of me than I was of him.”
And Oluwande saw the carriage before the horses whinnied, heard Stede’s wife and Ed scream as one, “Stede, look out!” and heard the thud of Stede’s body as the carriage rammed into him.
A huge cloud of dust billowed out around the carriage, and Ed shouted, “No!”
Oluwande caught Ed as he collapsed to his knees, staring at the dust cloud, tears immediately falling down his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Oluwande mumbled, not sure if he meant it, coughing against the dust. “It’ll all be okay.”
“Look!” said Black Pete, pointing to the carriage door—which was swinging shut.
“Oh my—”
“He’s alive—”
“He planned a f—”
Lucius, Frenchie, and Jim’s voices all mingled together until the carriage started rolling again, rolling over Stede’s head.
Although it wasn’t really Stede, Oluwande realized. In the split second Oluwande could see into the carriage window as it passed, he saw a blond head and bloody clothes sitting upright in the seat.
“Ed, look up,” Oluwande said.
Unfortunately, Edward looked up right as the piano fell on Stede.
Women fainting. Men screaming. Ed doing both.
The piano quieted and so did the crowds. Everyone hesitantly approached the piano and the body underneath it, and then Stede’s wife, now widow again, broke the silence.
“He kept it to himself,” she said, turning to face the crowd, “but Stede had been quite ill. In some ways, it’s a blessing.”
Ed was coming to, and Oluwande helped him to his feet. Jim, Frenchie, Lucius, and Black Pete stared at Ed and Oluwande, who both stood and watched the widow accept a wine glass from a tall woman with an eyepatch.
The tall woman spoke. “This is how Stede woulda wanted to go.”
As Stede’s widow raised her glass, Oluwande could see the gears in Ed’s head starting to turn.
“To Stede,” said the widow, and Oluwande could see the hint of a smile on her face. “Complicated, hard headed, really quite irritating at times, and now free.”
“Now… free,” echoed Ed, deep in thought.
“Long may he roam,” said the ex-Mrs. Bonnet, and Ed realized what had happened.
“He’s alive,” Ed breathed. He turned so fast to the others that Oluwande backed away, but a smile was breaking over Ed’s face. “You saw him,” he said, and they nodded, each with their own smiles.
Ed laughed, wiping away tears. “That’s not him under that piano. He did this… for me. Lunatic.”
Oluwande nodded. “And he’s leaving,” he said gently.
“I know where he’s going,” Ed said, wild energy overtaking him. “Back to the sea.” And he ran down the street after the carriage, his laughter carried back to Oluwande and the others.
“Think he’ll catch him?” Frenchie asked.
“Ah, without a doubt,” Jim said.
Lucius shook his head. “Captain Bonnet,” he said wonderingly. “I guess he is a genius. On rare occasions.”
Black Pete agreed, “That was next level.”
Oluwande ignored them, staring after the retreating figure of Ed. “I think it’ll all be okay,” he said to himself. “I think they’ll be okay.”
--
Stede exited the carriage at the docks, tipping the driver generously and thanking him profusely.
“And remember!” he called as the driver pulled away, “I’m officially dead, so don’t be telling people about our little shenanigans!”
The dust cloud billowing up behind the carriage was his only response.
Stede grinned. It had all gone perfectly according to plan. From the leopard to the piano, it was all perfect. He could only imagine what everyone’s faces had looked like when the piano fell. Ah, he wished he could have seen it.
His smile faltered as he stared back at the town. He was leaving forever. Now that he was dead, he could never come back.
But it was worth it. For Ed.
“I never should have left,” he said quietly, looking down. “I never should have left Ed. I was a coward.”
Stede missed him. From the moment he had left, he’d missed him. In fact, he missed him so much, he imagined he could hear Ed’s voice calling his name.
Then he looked up and saw a figure running toward him through the dust.
“Ed?” was all Stede had time to say before he was crushed in strong arms, wavy salt-and-pepper hair falling into his eyes, the momentum of the other man carrying them back a few steps.
“Stede!” said Ed, and for a moment, Stede couldn’t believe it.
Then he was hugging Ed back, and Ed and Stede were laughing and crying and holding each other like they would never let go.
“I’m so sorry for leaving,” Stede said, arms still wrapped tightly around Ed. “I’m so sorry.”
But when Ed pulled back, there was no reply, just deep brown eyes roving Stede’s face.
Stede wondered if maybe not all was forgiven. He couldn’t find the words to ask, so he said, “Did you see the spectacle? Back in town?”
Ed nodded once, still staring at Stede, taking him in with the desperation of a dying man drinking water.
“Did—did you like it?” Stede asked hesitantly, trying to smile confidently. “I thought it went quite well—”
And then Ed was kissing him, and butterflies burst to life inside Stede, making him lighter than air. Stede cradled Ed’s face, slowly rubbing his thumbs over the stubble growing there, and Ed melted into him.
Ed’s hands pulled Stede closer to him by the waist, and Stede went willingly, eagerly, kissing him again and again. He had never felt this way about anyone, had never had his heart be so thoroughly set on fire by a single person.
“Never leave,” begged Ed against Stede’s mouth.
Stede smiled and said, “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
Stede kissed Ed then, with the passion of a star-crossed lover, and both of them knew that everything was going to turn out just fine.
---
~ The End ~
---
I loved Episode Ten and I just wanted to see it from someone else's point of view :) My insane OFMD brainrot hasn't gotten much better so there will likely be more content coming soon. And for anyone wondering, the monologue in Part One is part of Hamlet's "To Be or Not To Be" monologue.
I want to get into a skin care routine (I kinda have one but it's just wash + toner + moisturizer) but there's so many products out there and everyone advises for something different it's so overwhelming .
oh, to find someone like marshall and lily did, and make a good life together with the sheer will of just wanting to be with that one person always, whether it’s good or bad, fun or not.
#the amazing digital circus
#photography
#love and deepspace
#lana del rey
