roach’s malewife
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oatmilktruther.bsky.social
roach’s malewife
@oatmilktruther.bsky.social
660 followers 100 following 4K posts
im abs im 28 my pronouns are they/them and im just trying to be the most esoteric clown at the circus https://archiveofourown.org/users/oatmilktruther
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oatmilktruther.bsky.social
so little brother is in deadhorse for the next hitch for work and he just sent us this. that arctic circle do be circling
screenshot of a sunrise/sunset map showing data for today saying “no sunrise today” first light: In >7 days sunrise: In >7 days sunset: In >7 days total daylight: 0 HR 0 MIN
November 26, 2025 at 7:42 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
hello i have. i have abouf two thousand darby taika ofmd related ohotos saved to my phone. here are some that are darby out of character. the last two are. definitely younger. older peepaw gets the more he likes to wear glasses. i have many more in character if you wish
side profile of rhys darby laughing side profile of rhys darby laughing and hes sticking his tongue out like a male thot rhys darby from like. wow at least 15 years ago. in some sort of modern angus the boat that rocked type suit. hes staring at the camera so intense. rhys darby from like ten years ago with his hands up and resting on his head. he’s wearing a bowtie
November 25, 2025 at 3:23 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
wip wednesday on a sunday. im doing evil t4t as is my wont
Back to stand, practically chest to chest, no other space in this bathroom for more, and he can't, he can't fucking do this. Friendship, maybe, but this syrupy sweet intimacy, all this shit he can't have. He'd spit it at her like a curse yesterday, girlfriend, but the truth is, even after everything, every fucking thing, he still wants it. Still wants her. Can feel it in his body, gnawing, aching, begging for her to step closer. But he can't. Can't stand another shot to the heart, another no, another I don't want— Once was enough. So he raises up his hands, and he can feel them trembling, as he places them on her arms, and he can hear her sharp intake of breath as he scrunches his eyes closed against it all, against the words that crawl free as he gently pushes her away. "Please," he says, feeble and small. "Please, Stede. Don't. I can't. I can't fucking take it." There's a pause, a moment scooped out, echoing and hollow, and then her voice, resounding in the same pitch. "Okay," she says. "I'm sorry," she says. And then she walks away and then he can breathe.
November 24, 2025 at 6:29 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
im goinv to become the joker
screenshot showing “sunset today 4:04 pm”, “last light 4:59 pm”, “total daylight 6hr 37min”
November 24, 2025 at 3:30 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
and now for wip wednesday, something totally different
Right, so, given the givens, one might wonder, hey, maybe Stede does know you're dating. Maybe he's just taking things slow. Maybe he's just adjusting to being newly out. There's no way a 49 year old gay man thinks it's normal to big-spoon your 47 year old boybestfriend after a trip to the opera he paid for until you fall asleep together without being in some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe he just doesn't like labels. That would actually be plausible, except Ed has kept a record, and Stede has said some variation of "We're not dating", "We're just friends", "Don't say that Lucius, you're going to embarrass Ed", etc etc, in front of Ed, 39 separate times. So then you might think, hey, Ed, cool it, you horny, obsessive freak. He's just not that into you. And that would be a valid criticism, 9/10 times. However comma, unlike his dear love Stede Bonnet, Ed is not oblivious, and mostly not repressed. He sees the way Stede looks at him, sees the way he looks quickly away so as not to be caught, hears the longing sighs, has front row tickets to the not so subtle ways Stede seems to gaze away forlornly whenever romance and dating come up while they're in the same room together. Has seen the way Stede has undressed him with his eyes when he's dressing a little extra slutty a lot on purpose. So then the next question is, damn, Ed, why not just put him out of his misery and tell the guy? Easy. Ed is a bastard.
November 20, 2025 at 1:21 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
partner reading like your hearts a pomegranate for the first time tbh i think theyre underreacting @margaritaville.bsky.social
message from my partner saying “gonna start tearing metal panels off the nearest cybertruck”
November 17, 2025 at 2:30 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
hiiiiiiiiiii i did it coccaptains with benefits is here okkkkkkkkk also fucking realizing as im here that i didnt tag that ed is trans well he is congrats to me i’ll fix it in post
Screenshot of ao3 work profile for “Unwind With Me” by oatmilktruther. Rated E, chapters 1/1, wordcount 13,503 summary: Stede and Ed are not having sex. To the uninformed, the things they do together may strongly resemble sex, but Stede knows better. This is just mutual stress relief between two professional, platonic, regular, normal co-captains. additional tags: alternate universe modern setting, cocaptains with benefits, pining while fucking, oblivious stede bonnet, angst with a happy ending
November 15, 2025 at 12:56 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
😬😬😬
Yeah, all great questions, but with Stede's position on the related matters still up in the air, Ed takes the safe route and answers the easy one. "Well, mostly I wanna have sex with you cause having sex with you's fun and it feels good." "Well— Wait. What do you mean? We haven't actually had sex—" They haven't— They— The— What? Ed checks Stede's face, carefully, scrutinizes every detail, just to make sure this isn't some sort of hidden-papes situation where they pull a prank on a famous guy and then spread gossip about it for money, just to make sure he's not fucking joking. And, god, okay, insane, Stede's poker face is so bad he can't bluff his way through a round of go-fish, and he is definitely not lying right now. Still, Ed can't keep the incredulity out of his voice when he tells him, "We've been having sex, depending on how loose you wanna hang that definition, from like three to six weeks."
November 14, 2025 at 6:10 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
for wip wednesday just this one brief bit of insanity
He has no right to it, but he misses Ed’s touch, misses the closeness, misses him the way the great poets miss a lover, pining and soliloquizing, only, of course, in the echoing chambers of his heart. But Ed is not his lover, and he doesn’t want him for one. Stede may be a dreamer, he may be fanciful, but even he knows better than to ask for the truly impossible.
November 13, 2025 at 4:58 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
this is going well good thing theyre still not having sex
Another thump, disconcertingly loud, against the wall. Ed's voice, fractured and thin, "Shitting fucking fuck." "Ed," he says, pulling back. "Is everything alright?" Ed's response is practically a growl, "No," and it sinks shame, panic, mortification through Stede like ice. "Oh god, I'm sorry, it was a stupid idea, I only have stupid ideas—" "No," Ed says, again, and then tugs his grip at Stede's hair, a sharp little pinch that frissons down his spine, through the rest of his body. "Not alright that you stopped." "Oh," Stede says, stalled out but an inch from the very object of his fascination. "Keep going?" Ed asks, and this, it is softer, pitchier, and dare Stede levy such an accusation— "Please? Stede, please?" Needier. Ed. Needy for something Stede can give him, enthusiastically give him, his touch. Stede is incontrovertibly a fool, but this type of fool, today at least, he will not be. Stede does as he is bade. Gentle, easing back in, but working to return Ed to that pitch, that rocking rhythm of heat and clenching muscles and warbling cries of, oh, Stede's name, his, falling across Ed's perfect lips, perfect, picture perfect pleasure.
November 12, 2025 at 6:41 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
bran is reading the pussy eating scene from the cocaptains with benefits fic
screenshot of a discord message from RArmitage’s Oral Fixation. message is replying to @just dwarrowken <3 (that’s me) saying “:3”. message text is “Don’t :3 at me I’m about to call animal services to get youuuuu”
November 12, 2025 at 2:40 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
man this is so insanely horny. good thing theyre mot having sex with each other
So he matches Ed's pacing, matches the thorough exploration of Ed's hands. Since Ed seems directed by nothing more than his own whims, Stede assumes that he can do the same, and indulge in touching Ed where he's been curious to touch and until this moment resisted. Ed kisses him and he gently places his hands over Ed's ribs, feels the warm, the soft, the breathing heat of him. Arcs out his thumbs to find the silvery curves of his scars, traces them, touch just delicate enough to feel the tender texture of them, long healed though they are. Kisses Ed back and dips one hand down to cup the curve of his hip, to skate back around over the mottling of scars where Ed's been so many times stabbed. He fancies that, with the careful pad of his thumb, he can feel the mark he himself left on Ed, imagines that it is warmer, more tender, more pronounced than all the other scarred bumps and ridges. Eyes closed and given completely over to the feeling, Ed kissing him, touching him, he doubts that he actually can, but still, it sends something pleased and pawing through his gut, to imagine his hand staking claim in the same place as his steel.
November 11, 2025 at 4:28 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
good fucking god dude like get it together
Stede and Ed are not having sex. And one might wonder why you might have to say something like that unless you are, indeed, having sex with your co-captain, but being that, though Stede has adapted to the culture of piracy remarkably well, he is a landlubber by birth, he still feels the need to record things for the audience of the land locked masses. And the things Stede and Ed do together, to the uninformed landlubber, do strongly resemble sex in many ways. But! Stede is educated, and fully initiated to the culture, as it were, and he knows that what him and Ed share together is not, in fact, sex, but mutual stress relief between two co-captains necessitated by the fact they are the only two individuals on the ship with a rank of equal status, and that to engage in stress relief like this with any other staff member would create a massive conflict of interest. Not that the interest— It's purely professional, if one would even say there was interest at all, which, really, there isn't, because, again, they're not having sex, so mutual interest is not a requirement.
November 10, 2025 at 6:20 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
currently accepting submissions for my playlist of 10+ minute songs that make people go uhhhhh…. is this song over yet? when i make them listen to them in entirety in my car. current listing attached
screenshot of a playlist titled welcome to my saw trap running 1 hour 30 minutes with five tracks tracks are: only skin, by joanna newsom impossible soul, by sufjan stevens call to arms, by the black angels christmas unicorn, by sufjan stevens mad rush (arr. m. beiser for cello), performed by maya beiser
November 10, 2025 at 12:46 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
i have an obsession
side view of black over ear headphones painted with white ala ed’s spider hand tattoo and shark arm tattoo with stars and crosses scattered amongst side view of black over ear headphones painted with white ala ed’s snake tattoo, cross tattoo, nautical star tattoo, anchor tattoo, and with stars and crosses scattered amongst
November 5, 2025 at 6:34 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
i fixed ONE of the scenes…. but still
picture of ed in their probation sack on the deck of the revenge. i used procreate to draw fuzzy purple socks with white hearts and fluffy bunny slippers on her poor vulnerable bare beautiful kissable feet. they looks like an angel
November 2, 2025 at 4:03 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
wip whatever today is because im back on my be fucking weird sbout food bullshit as per uszh
She sits down next to them, scoots one of the mugs of tea close, asks, "How do you take it?" and Jim's still straggled out on I told you to sit, on her hand on their shoulder, on everything since she lit their cigarette, and not much of a tea drinker besides, that they just tell her to make it how you make yours. She spoons in a highly improbable number of sugars and splashes in some cream, taking the tea from dark to swirling lighter to creamy brown, and then presses the mug directly into Jim's hand, tells them, "Sip." They do. Somehow, it's perfect. Jim doesn't take anything sweet, truthfully never really occurs to them to take the extra steps. If they're drinking something, it's for caffeine, or electrolytes, or alcohol, it's about what's in it, not how it tastes, so why bother? This tastes good. This tastes good, and with Ed watching them with those big tractor beam eyes, shifting like she wants to sip on Jim's reaction as much as the tea, Jim finds that they can settle in enough to feel it. So they do, they sip, and they feel, the sweet and the warmth seeping into their chest the way the sweet and warm of Ed's scent, of her whole house, her whole everything seeps into their bones as they sit, Ed sitting next to them, not crowding them, but still close, a reminder. And then Ed picks up from the tray the snack she brought: thick toast spread generously with avocado and sprinkled with seasoning, and holds it out to Jim, says, "Taste." They do, and again, like she's fucking magic, it's perfect. Protein, fat, carbs, salt, all the things their body needs right now, the building blocks that will steady them through everything Jim wants to do to her, but also, simple fucking snack that tastes fucking good. Real fucking food where Jim is used to swallowing a protein shake without even tasting it. It's balanced, it's light, there's a pop of acid, there's the soothing slide of oil, there's the crunch of the whole grain toast, and Jim feels fucking insane, because what are they doing, writing poetry about a piece of toast in their head like this? "Good," Ed says, and it's warm and sweet, all over again, warm and sweet for Jim like they've done anything but take up her space and eat her food. Still, Jim can't find it in themself to argue, just says, "It is," because it is, and eats. Both pieces, because though Ed leans back and sips her own tea, the picture of calm and content, when Jim tries to offer her the other piece of toast, she just shakes her head, says again, "Eat."
October 21, 2025 at 11:26 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
shot our best friend got of me and bran sitting together at the aquarium i have grown up looking at for almost three decades btw in case you care
two people viewed from behind sitting on a bench in front of an enormous aquarium fish tank with kelp and rock fish and a bunch of other fish i care less about
October 14, 2025 at 5:44 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
imagine if it was an au of an au where the reunion happens when ed robs a train stede is on
Perhaps he should be afraid, but it's just that it's Ed. No, the disquieting thing, really, is that it's Ed. Ed, wielding a gun and robbing a train and flashing hard edges and fangs while he does it. Oh, Ed was always strong, fearsome when he needed to be, braver than Stede ever was, of course, but— But he was never violent. Never cold. Never hard. He was that elusive and perfect mix of masculinity: man enough to handle the world as it came, soft enough that he never let it push him to brutality. And yet, somehow, in the aftermath of Stede, something has pushed him to brutality. Most likely someone. Most likely a very identifiable one currently sat on his horse, the kind of poisonous soft that coos platitudes at a horse during a train robbery and drives perfect men from a perfect life for the simple crime of giving ruinous men like Stede a space within it.
October 10, 2025 at 10:51 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
lucius and ed in the blanket fort respectively
screenshot of messages between two people blue text: well im sorry i cannot help with that it’s part of the healing process grey text: i know :/ i dont want to heal i want to get fucked and be in love
October 3, 2025 at 5:53 AM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
post you from a different era

i was the right age to download my entire personality from 2010s era hipster/indie darling tumblr and it shows
picture of me from a million years ago. i have big rectamgle frame black glasses and im wearing several layers and a dark navy beanie. also my face is so moody for no reason.
September 30, 2025 at 11:40 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
i dont use the word boob but i can give you tits
“This shop, though, check them out. They sell new and secondhand, they’re local, their website says they offer classes, huh? And they’re out by the bakery you like, so if it all goes tits up, you can just give up, get a croissant, you know?”
September 29, 2025 at 3:23 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
here you can have the entire contents of this doc titled “ed and pain i guess”
Ed being weird about pain wasn’t really something he knew about himself until he had it pointed out to him. And done kindly, it was fuckin not. Nah, it was Calico Jack, who had him bent over a barrel in the hold, two seconds from coming or getting caught, and Ed didn’t really care which way it went if he would just pull a little fuckin harder on his hair, move his hips a little fuckin faster, for like fifteen more seconds. And then Calico Jack had opened his big mouth and called him a pain slut and Ed wanted to know what the fuck that meant more than he wanted to keep getting fucked, so he shoved Jack back, asked him what the fuck that meant. And Jack had told him not to get precious about it, only he had never seen someone take more to getting shoved around then Ed did, and not just in the bedroom, if you knew what he meant, and no, actually, Ed did not know what he meant, and pulled his pants up in a huff and fucked off to the rigging to sway in the wind and glare at the horizon.
September 26, 2025 at 5:08 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
no mapping but here’s my first result for map!
You decide, instead, to take him on a treasure hunt, and have a bit of an adventure. The wind is hot, like always, and smells like flowers, and mud. These adventures are your favorite time. Your normal days bring only a chain of tasks to complete, none of which cohere into meaning for you anymore. Life has become out of focus, free of consequence. As you hike, you close your eyes, for a moment. In that moment, you feel again, above you, not even far away now, that lighthouse of awesome size, lit by no lamp. An invisible titan, a thick column of jagged brick against a deep, turbulent ocean. You feel nothing but the bright sunlight across your face, but you know the lighthouse is out there, yawning in the unseen spaces. The moment passes. You open your eyes again, and all you see is a jungle. Just insane foliage. Just that. And you look down at the map and read the symbols, indicating your direction for this stretch is northeast.
September 26, 2025 at 5:03 PM
oatmilktruther.bsky.social
tbh didnt think i would find one but here we go!
But then he has to figure out where to go and he’s lost again. The kitchen opens into the dining room opens into a big sprawling living room, and there are people crowded on couches and ottomans and dining room chairs and bits of floor. Most people are wearing black, but it doesn’t look like a funeral. Some people are somber, but just as many are talking animatedly, are laughing. And here’s Ed, moody, messy, looming on the edge, invited only by obligation and in no way belonging.
September 26, 2025 at 4:40 PM