7 Works by poading
Listing Works
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Goodnight sunshine
Goodnight moon
Goodnight Canadian wolf bird loon -
Lucius Spriggs and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by poading
Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)
05 Jul 2022
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Drowning isn’t the worst thing to happen to Lucius Spriggs. Top five. Top eight. Definitely at least top ten.
Somehow, drowning’s not even the worst thing to happen to Lucius this week.
No, that particular honor belongs to an event that comes around midday. Literally. In the most vulgar sense. God, he wishes he was dreaming. And on second thought that would be a nightmare, so actually, no thank you.
Or: Lucius Spriggs spots the co-captains reconciling through the window of the captain's quarters after nearly drowning and hates his life so very very much.
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The first time is quick. Ed has been thinking about it for weeks, kissing Stede Bonnet. It is the sort of thing he wants to do right. Though Stede’s never mentioned it in any of their lessons, Ed is certain there is a right way to go about kissing a gentleman. He must wait for the right time, the right place.
But when he finally does it, Ed doesn’t think at all. He is only instinct and hope tangled in a moment where breath is forgotten and the future seems possible.
OR: Five times Ed kisses Stede and one time Stede kisses Ed
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They do not choose Bolo for the job; Loquatius Seelie does.
The infiltration of Avalir is meant for someone else, as her superiors tell her. It is not inconsequential, the number of times they say she is unfit for such work. She is not beautiful enough to tempt so famous a man as the Herald, she is not skilled enough to accomplish what must be done, and she is not important enough for anyone in Aeor to so much as consider sending her.
But in the end, it does not matter. Her worth is not theirs to decide.
Sent to spy on Avalir and learn their secrets, Bolo from Aeor gets exactly what she came for.
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“I may not understand it, and I definitely don’t like it, but for some focking reason that is beyond comprehension, my boss has a weakness when it comes to you. And I’m—” he chokes back bile. “I’m absolutely certain you’re the only person in this whole god forsaken ocean who can talk sense into him. So, get in the focking dinghy.”
Bonnet’s lips twitch ever so slightly into a smile. “Well, maybe if you were to ask me nicely.”
“Get in the dinghy.”
“What’s the magic word?”
Izzy screws up his face, trying to recall anything he’s ever heard about magic. The memory comes to him of some insipid story Bonnet told the crew one night about a girl and a dress and some fucking mice, so he says, “Bipity focking bopity focking doo.”
“I was looking for please, but I suppose that will do.”
After realizing Edward isn't actually better off as Blackbeard, Izzy Hands seeks out the last person on earth he'd like to spend any length of time trapped in a dinghy with: Stede focking Bonnet.
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Stede Bonnet was the first man Mary killed, but he wouldn’t be the last. At the time, she’d thought staging such an elaborate show—or fuckery as Stede called it—would be the hardest part; skewering him would have been much simpler. But no, as it turned out, the most difficult bit about murder wasn’t the murdering. It was the cleanup.
While helping a friend cover up a murder, Mary receives some unexpected assistance from a pirate.
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“Well, that’s a waste, isn’t it?” Ed juts his chin at the plants. “If they don’t flower til they’re practically dead, what’s the point?”
“I don’t know about that.” Stede trails a finger along the petals, worrying his lip between his teeth in thought. “Seems to me flowers are beautiful no matter how long they take to bloom.” His eyes find Ed’s and catch them, murky and warm and searing with kindness of a violent sort.
It’s quite the hostage situation Ed’s found himself in and he doesn’t dare blink.
Stede and Ed come across a flower merchant at the market and Stede has an idea for a team building exercise for the crew.