The thing I am fucking feral about today: this shit.
Look. Look at this.
Stede, by and large, is not a Toucher. (Thatβs a whole separate essay.) Heβs hesitant as fuck about it, and tends to initiate contact, if at all, through some intermediary: clothing, air, etc. Later, with Ed, heβll do incidental touches, little things that could be explained away like the brush of arms together, etc.
(THIS IS NOT THAT ESSAY.)
But look at this shit. βMay I?β Stede asks, and he gives it a moment but Ed doesnβt actually hand it over. He doesnβt even answer.
And Stede just reaches out, takes an end of the silk, and
slowly
drags it
through Edβs fingers as Ed fucking tilts his eyes upwards in complete silence, his gaze clicking from spot to spot as his heart gets unwound from his lax β but not relaxed β grip.
And while I like the meta where Stede has NO FUCKING CLUE ABOUT HOW SEDUCTIVE HEβS BEING, I also like the idea that for the first time in his life, because this is a Queer Situation, Stede has the glimmerings of Game. Because, my god, the forwardness of it. He didnβt wait for Ed to give it to him. He just reached out and took, but in such a syrup-slow manner that Ed couldβve said no, couldβve just tightened his fingers if he didnβt want to let Stede take this precious thingβ and Stedeβs giving him that time while simultaneously also making some pretty great allusions, intentional or not, to how exactly heβd make his move, if a move he ever made.
Like, βMay I? Stede would ask, and Ed (Blackbeard) wouldnβt move, wouldnβt say a word, but he wouldnβt step away either, would just watch Stede with a clicking gaze as Stede stepped forward, raised his hands, and drew Ed syrup-slow toward him, every moment one where Ed could turn away and every moment clear that Stede was here, wanting this, wanting him, and deliberate in his want.
So my god, the pure queer seduction of this scene: the intermediary object as a stand-in for themselves; the plausible deniability; the silent consent (a subgenre of plausible deniability); coded language; βinnocentβ touch as protective camouflageβ¦
(Itβs a little distressing to consider how much queer romantic context comes from trying to be both Open to a possibility while simultaneously trying not to get the shit beaten out of us for being wrong. Itβs a powerful language. Itβs a tragic one. Itβs what makes it feel so special if it goes right.)
Anyway. Stede may have no idea the levels heβs playing at here, but heβs a man who was explicitly and in canon abused for displaying a particular flavor of non-masculine behavior. Even if he doesnβt know heβs queer, he knows the need for the language of safety; heβs been learning it since childhood. So he speaks itβ and Ed, who engages in at least βwhen at seaβ levels of queer living, picks up on it like the Stede-radio heβs been tuning for ages now to find a signal that explains him has suddenly gone from static to the crystal-clear notes of Gnossienne No. 5.
Is it any wonder that Edβs oh no moment is fucking palpable here? Is it any wonder that Stede comes away from this scene a little more certain of himself around Ed, able to argue him into staying, pull him into a treasure hunt, touch his bare arm against Edβs when they become co-captains?
GAH these fuckheads, look at them.
