psa - s2 & s2 spoilers

this blog will tag anything regarding s2 with ofmd s2. this may include officially released promo material, tweets from david jenkins, etc. 

this blog will tag s2 spoilers (i.e., not officially released for promos etc) as ofmd s2 spoilers. 

HOWEVER and as always, neither i nor tumblr are the best at tagging/blocking tags, so if you feel extremely strongly about s2 spoilers, feel free to curate your dash and come back after s2 <3

meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. first day, first prompt: sunlight

There was a thought Stede had never thought before.

He’d suspected it was there for a long time, honestly—he’d caught it before, here and again, hovering in the corners of his eyes. He’d been very good at looking away. He’d been looking away since the divorce six months ago, or maybe for every day of the twelve-year marriage itself. Or—maybe for a lifetime. Depended on how you looked at it, he supposed.

But now it was here. The day. The day, the day he was going to finally let himself think it.

If I wake up on June the 1st and I know, I’ll really know.

He’d taken two sleeping pills around nine. Didn’t want to stay up waiting for it. Didn’t want to shatter the fragile thought under the pressure.

Stede’s alarm went off as scheduled. Freddie Mercury’s voice belted through the room, big, breaking free.

The sun was already shining. He’d left the curtains open the night before; he’d wanted the light first thing. He’d wanted to wake up already soaked in all that warm, beautiful light, and now here he was.  

It was suddenly so easy.

I’m gay, Stede thought.

The next breath shuddered into Stede’s lungs, rough and unexpected, like he’d never taken a breath before in his life. He knew.

He’d always known.

As a boy, picking flowers, running from kids who’d already known there was something different in him—as a teenager, smoking his first cigarette, avoiding the gaze of the girl who’d lit it for him—as a man, holding Mary’s hand in their wedding bed and swallowing against the crush in his ribs that told him every reason he ought to love her, like he could force the logic of her into the heart hiding underneath—he’d known.

I’m gay, Stede thought again.

He had sort of thought he might feel different. Or might—be different, somehow. But no, not really: he got up on the same side of the bed he’d always slept on. Showered the way he’d always showered, dressed the way he’d always dressed. Fixed his hair the way he’d always fixed his hair. Drank the protein shake for breakfast he’d always drunk.

He was still himself. He’d always been.

June the 1st, he repeated to himself, standing in the kitchen, tapping his fingers on a little brown paper package that had come from Etsy three days ago. Bit like a birthday, maybe. The start of something new.

One manicured fingernail slipped under the tape on the package. The sun was in Stede’s eyes as he whittled along the length of the flap, undoing the tape bit by bit. Cloudless day. The sunlight stung.

The contents of the package clinked on the granite when it fell out.

Stede counted to three. Then he counted to ten. Then he counted to fifty, and finally he counted to a hundred and thought, come on, then. You’re gay. Be gay about it.

He looked down. On the worktop was a small enamel rainbow pin.

Just a pin. Gold backing. He’d spent ages looking for one that matched Gilbert Baker’s original flag, with the pink and the aqua. A progress Pride pin was coming too, but for this day, for the first day, he’d wanted the first flag.

For something so tiny, it carried so, so much.

It took a minute to undo the backing with trembling fingers. Punching the pin through the fine fabric of his shirt—white, which he never wore, but he wanted the pin to really stand out—felt like releasing something inside himself that had been building for years and years. Like lancing a wound. Like the first sharp, hot moment of healing.

“All right,” he said out loud, forcing himself to pass the mirror in the hall without stopping to look, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. His heart was pounding under the weight of the pin; his hand was sweating where it’d settled on the handle of his front door.

It was a fifteen minute walk from here to the bookshop on the wharf. Stede was going to walk it, and open the shop, and wear the pin. He was going to let people see.

Just a fifteen minute walk from here to the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath.

He stepped out into the light.

Trying to work through a little June challenge for myself - bingo! 

I have been really struggling with writing lately - basically, I’m super underwater with how much I have going on - but I really miss it desperately and I wanted a low-stakes way to get back to it. so bingo!! 

I’ll be aiming for five prompts with short ficlets - 717 words for OFMD or 666 words for GO, but if anyone wants to join in, feel free! any fandom, any writing or art, snag a copy of the board and let’s roll through Pride low-stakes style.