UD

@unplsntdvrsns

🔞. Our Flag garbage. Milchizzy shipper in theory if not in practice. Izzy 🦄. QPOC, she/her, fub free, 30 or 40 years old, no minors please.

511 Folgt591 Follower7.479 Posts

Bluesky

bbw

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UD@unplsntdvrsns· Jun 1

Our run differential is finally positive 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Screenshot of National League standings from the MLB app. The NL East is Atlanta in front, then DC, Philly, NYC, & Miami. The screen shows runs scored, runs allowed, & run differential. DC's differential is circled in red; as of May 31 2026, with 324 runs scored and 323 runs allowed, their differential is +1.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 31

This is how whole-account labeling looks on reposts. I use the moderation toggles to warn for NSFW on my TL when scrolling in public. Now every click is a risky click, as the labeling is blanket. The cost of your account level moderation & disdain for your users is loss of a useful moderation tool.

A screenshot of a repost from an account that has been labeled at account level as NSFW (jayaxer). The repost has been warned for adult content.

The same repost, unhidden. It is a text post which reads:

Be certain, as is always the case with things such as this, that ANYTHING can be considered sexual and can end in a blanket account shadowban under this.

It is easily weaponized.

It is determined by an AI moderation system.

There is no accountability or recourse.

you probably can't read this.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 31

There's an em dash & A List of Three Things but I pinky promise a human wrote this

Ed wishes he could hear the ticking of a clock. Everything inside the room is digital—the smart watch he wears to track his imperfect sleep, the phone he uses instead of an alarm, the backup alarm clock that he keeps on the bedside table just in case the two separate alarm apps on his phone somehow fail. All efficiently mute and working imperceptibly in the background. Ed thinks he might feel a lot better if he could hear a tick.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 21

This was gonna be WIP Wednesday but Ellipsus mobile didn't update new work I did on PC & then overwrote the updates with the un-updated version so I had to go to PC version history & panic for a minute, & now I'm worried my rbb is missing random bits! That's a tomorrow problem though anyway EdIzzy

At one particularly dull site marker, Ed says, "You know, it's not very punk rock of you to be this interested in piles of old bricks."

Izzy doesn't even bother looking up from what he's reading. "We run a business where our employees do all the work," Izzy replies, "and we've got investments and a financial advisor on speed dial."

"She's in a polycule. With like three of Lucius's friends."

Izzy huffs. "Regardless. I don't think we've been very punk rock in years."

"Speak for yourself," Ed rumbles. "I'm super punk rock."

Izzy snaps a photo of something especially boring, and absently says, "All right, love."

Ed knows Izzy can't see his smile, but he takes a sip from his water bottle to hide it anyway.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 14

RBB wip wthursday. Chapter 5 vs chapter 7, what if EdIzzy were better to each other & also still dumb. We're at 20k words though

He reaches out blindly and slaps the lightswitch nearest to him, plunging the room into darkness. There's a streetlight outside that casts the room in just enough of a glow that he can make out the shapes of what's around him. He doesn't want to see it; he rolls onto his side, facing the door and away from Izzy, and pulls the sheets up to his face.

He's screwed it up. He knows it and he can't stop the tears forming in his eyes. He won't be able to apologize for it, for dropping all of that on Izzy without warning, for thinking only of himself and how he'd wanted to speak regardless of whether Izzy had wanted to listen.

There's a quiet sound behind him, a body in motion. Then, the gentle dip of the bed, the cool air on his skin as the covers are briefly pulled back-and there is Izzy, warm and solid, his chest at Ed's back, his arms around Ed's waist, his lips pressed softly against the bare skin of Ed's shoulder.

Izzy doesn't protest when Ed moves him to the bed, nor does he bat Ed away when he starts to remove his prosthetic. It's not the best sign. Ed puts something meaningless on the television, grabs two bottles of water and a packet of vinegar crisps, and crowds Izzy on their double bed.

Eventually, Izzy asks, "Have I ruined it?"

"I don't think that lady will want to sell you another 99," Ed quips. He dares to look at Izzy; he's shattered. "No. It's been too much. We haven't had a day off in a while. My knee's gonna complain soon enough."

"I woke up wrong and never got right," Izzy mutters.

Ed throws the crisps and water onto the side table, and pulls Izzy into his arms. "We'll wake up again tomorrow."

He doesn't expect, though maybe he should have, the front of his shirt to get wet with tears. He holds Izzy tighter through it.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 10

Sometimes I like to wander over to the Herman Miller site to window shop or whatever and George Nelson you were so valid for this

A product detail excerpt that reads, "While its more austere predecessor – with wooden slat seat – was designed by George Nelson to discourage guests from lingering in his office, the" before getting cut off.

Not included is the explanation that this newer design is meant to be more comfy.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 7

He really would've been like "this is great actually" This would've been them right before she did it. Or right after idk

Two smiling people embracing while looking at the camera. Leslie Jones is dressed like a fancy pirate in her pirate dive bar. Con O'Neill is dressed in black like a doom and gloom pirate. He's got his head on her chest and she's got her hand on his.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 6

That's (almost) my music (except for Izzy bitching about Ed's knee)

They sit in silence, drinking coffee. Izzy's grateful for it; he doesn't know when, or how, Ed stopped being such a chatterbox, but the few minutes of quiet companionship are appreciated.

His prosthetic sits safely wedged between his bed and desk, and when he's done with the coffee, Izzy says, "I'm ready for it."

One morning, not long after they'd made their escape from Ricky, Ed had showed up with coffee. And Izzy hadn't had a chance that morning to pull his prosthesis on, or maybe he hadn't wanted to leave his room that day, or he just hadn't had the energy to do anything at all.

Ed had asked to see how he wore it, and Izzy had done what he always, inevitably, does: he had given Ed what he had asked for.

Ever since, every single morning they're at sea, Ed comes by with coffee, a few words, poorly hidden concern, and freshly washed wool and silk for Izzy's leg.

There's a twinge in Izzy's back that reminds him of its existence through the day, pain in his right knee that comes often and goes less and less, and the constant low ache in his skull from the ship. He ignores all of this for a few sacred moments; instead, he focuses on Ed's hands brushing against his thigh, methodically cleaning the skin there and checking for sore spots, pulling on the wool first and silk second before taking the unicorn leg from its place and strapping it on. There is no sound around them except that of the ship on the water, the creak of Ed's leathers as he shifts, the soft click-clack of the leg's metal buckles, the air moving in and out of their lungs.

"Not too tight?" Ed asks, just like he's asked most mornings for the past month.

Izzy shakes his head. "Just right, Eddie." Just like always. Ed moves to stand, and Izzy touches his shoulder to get his attention. "You'll talk to Ivan today?"

Ed hesitates. "Yeah. Maybe. We'll see." He takes their empty mugs and goes to the door. "See you on deck."

"All right," Izzy says again; when Ed shuts the door, he lets out his breath, closes his eyes, and wills himself up to start the day.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 5

WIP Wednesday, EdIzzy are dumb

When Ed wakes up, it feels like he's falling. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and why there's someone warm next to him.

Izzy's sleeping with his arm still slung lightly over Ed's body, and with his mouth slightly open. There's a spot of wet on the pillow where he's drooled. His sock is halfway off his foot, as usual. He looks stupid. Ed never wants to leave him again.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 2

When I said I based it on 2019

Stede let the answer settle between them as he poured drinks and took his own seat. "I did bring you here to talk," he said.

"I figured," Ed replied. "Any reason it's just me?"

Steepling his fingers and leaning on the table, Stede shrugged. "I wanted to discuss the team. I'm not exactly what you would call experienced. I don't think that's a bad thing, but I did want someone to bounce ideas off."

"You've got coaches," Ed said.

"Yes," Stede said. "They're magnificent at what they do. But they're not...well, they're like me. We're not legends."

Ed cracked a smile, hoping the light in his eyes hadn't dimmed too visibly. "I'm your legend, then?"

"You are. And I think this team, this year, could be just as legendary. Blackbeard's Unicorns."

Ed clenched his jaw and started in on his salad. "Rather you didn't call me that."

Confused, Stede leaned back. "It's what everyone calls you, it's your nickname."

"You've never used it before," Ed said. "Besides, I don't even have a beard these days."

Stede nodded. "All right. Edward Teach's Unicorns, then."

Ed scoffed. "Sounds a bit silly."

"I think it sounds brilliant." A hand was on his wrist again, gentle but strong; Stede was reaching across the table, barely leaning forward to touch him. "You can see it, can't you? Everyone says we're a long shot, but you know we're not."

Ed looked up at him and saw the raw sincerity in his eyes. "The numbers don't lie, mate."

"Oh, then I suppose we'll pack it all in," Stede said. "No reason to play another hundred games, the oracle has spoken."

Ed looked down at where Stede was still touching his wrist but didn't move. "When me and Iz came here, the team had a one and a half percent shot at winning the World Series."

"Fuck the odds makers," Stede said.

It should have been ridiculous. Ed should have pointed out the likelihood of them beating teams like Los Angeles or Milwaukee or Saint Louis, with all their momentum and depth, was too low, no matter what this unhinged man might have thought.

But the sheer earnest faith in Stede's hazel eyes gave him pause. "You want it," Ed said.

"I have it," Stede corrected firmly. "I just need your help in taking it."

And how could Ed say no to that?

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 2

It's baseball season, the bats are hot (the pitching is AWFUL), & maybe after RBB I might come back to this 4 year old draft because honestly Ed & Izzy pitching battery on Stede's team where he's a second year manager nobody else believes in was kinda 🤌

Ed could tell Stede was confused as he watched Izzy take the at bat. First pitch had been low in the dirt, ball one. Second had been well outside. No reason for Izzy to swing at those, and Stede had been fairly comfortable with it.

But the third pitch had been straight down the middle, and Izzy had stood there, motionless. Two-one count. He refused to swing at the next pitch, a curve that painted the outside corner but was still reachable—Ed had seen him swing at those for good contact, as had Stede. Two-two count.

The pitcher called time and the catcher got up to meet him at the mound. As Izzy stepped out of the batter's box for the moment, Stede murmured, "What the hell is he doing?"

Ed smiled ruefully. "We're up by ten runs. It's the eighth inning."

Stede turned to him, the confusion fading into understanding. "He won't swing."

With a shrug, Ed said, "He wouldn't judge anyone else for swinging. But he's got his own rules for himself."

On a hot night like this, the ball would carry. A hit that would be a double or triple in the early spring would leave the park. The next pitch was outside again, and the count went full, three balls two strikes.

The final pitch: fastball low and inside the strike zone. Ed had seen Izzy hit slams off that pitch. He'd sent a couple unlucky pitchers back down to the minors off that pitch. He'd shut down opposing fans, and lit up his own, off that pitch.

Izzy stood and watched it as the catcher took it, the sound of leather hitting leather overwhelming anything else that Ed might have heard at that moment.

He walked from the plate with a purpose and came down the dugout steps expressionless. But when Stede gave him a quick pat on the ass, Ed saw a glimmer of respect pass over his face.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· May 1

WIP Whuaghuhuahughuawhat day is it. I'm getting a lot of mileage out of their son

There's something about Izzy's voice that makes him flinch. Not because Izzy sounds angry—he doesn't—but because there's that edge to it again that Ed doesn't like to hear.

When Ed turns to face him, Izzy looks as though he's drowning on dry land.

Ed stares for a moment, shaken. Then he says, quietly, "Pull over."

"I don't—"

"Now."

Izzy does what he's told. They're on a narrow road with nobody else coming or going in either direction; Izzy pulls off onto the grass. Ed reaches back awkwardly to grab Horny, shoves him into Izzy's lap and stares until Izzy sulks and grudgingly wraps his arms around the stuffed unicorn.

"Fine," Izzy mutters.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 21

WIP What day is it. Izzy's getting romantic about Ed's nut flower :(

Ed stares at the dilapidated half walls and storm-blown archways of the abbey ruins. There's a spot in a corner, tucked away behind piles of stone remnants and cast in perpetual shadow, that he makes his way to. Izzy is only a step behind him when Ed says, "We definitely fucked here."

Somewhere in the ruins, a stranger gasps in disgust.

"Still remember the grass against my bum," Izzy says, smiling placidly.

Ed points to a weed. "A flower grew where you nutted."

Izzy braces on his crutches and leans down a bit, examining it. "That one might have been yours."

"Why do you say that?" Ed asks.

"It's pretty—" Izzy stops talking a moment too late. There's a new blush on his cheeks.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 18

s2e5 "The Curse of the Seafaring Life" candle-lit training scene

From Spongebob. Squidward is looking jacked and handsome, and Spongebob is biting his bottom lip while pointing, wide-eyed, at sexy Squidward. They're in a room with green wooden flooring and white/green walls.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 14

Two fandom market map pieces & the envelope they came in, call that steddyhands dp

Two business card sized pieces of artwork made to look like map pieces, laid out on a brown envelope. One card has a cute purple kraken rising from the ocean, the other has an amputated leg and a mermaid tail. Yes the art is also steddyhands to me

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 9

It's been 4 years & 2 days since I first sat down & mainlined OFMD s1; if you know me then you won't be surprised that it was a choice between skipping the first couple innings of my team's home opener vs watching the entire season in one go & a month later I'd started a baseball au i never finished

With a sigh, Ed sat back and motioned for Izzy to do whatever it was he was going to do. He watched as Izzy shoved the sofa out of place and squeezed himself between it and the wall to get the shoe. A strange sense of deja vu washed over him, even though he couldn't recall ever losing a shoe in this exact way before.

It was the move, he realized. Packing his life into two bags, hopping on a plane, getting to an apartment someone else had furnished for them. Scratching the back of his head, Ed asked, "Iz?"

"Hmm? Jesus, we need to vacuum before we leave."

"Yeah, listen," Ed said. "Do you ever get bored of all this?"

Izzy stopped brushing the dust bunnies off Ed's cleat and looked at him, confused. "Of...moving?"

"Of baseball. Spending your entire life throwing four pitches every fifth day."

"I don't pitch," Izzy said.

"Yeah, fine, then spending your life—" Ed scrubbed his face. He already knew Izzy didn't get bored. Not of this stuff, at any rate.

Izzy looked down at the cleat like it might have some answers. "Spending my life doing what?" he asked quietly. "It's good work. What would you do instead?"

"Dunno." Ed leaned back on his hands. "Play basketball?"

Izzy glowered at him and threw the cleat at his head. "You're too short to play basketball."

"If Muggsy Bogues could make it—and anyway, you're too short to be a catcher. Fucking manlet. It's like trying to throw to a gnat."

A screenshot of a gdoc named "the boys of summer" with a date stamp of May 2

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 9

Lmao???

Screenshot of an MLB.com article by Brent Maguire, headline "Holy headgear! White Sox to hand out pope-inspired hats." There's a photo of the novelty hat next to a photo of Da Pope wearing a White Sox cap and smiling.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 5

WIP Wsaturday: Ed & Izzy are at an amusement park :) first snippet is a game Izzy plays, second snippet skips a bit but you need to see what Ed named their child also i really like Ellipsus a lot

"Want a unicorn, Eddie?" Izzy asks. He doesn't wait for an answer.

It's a stupid game: throw a pair of small unicorn plushes into an equally small hole in a rainbow-decorated bucket, win a comically large unicorn plush as a result. Ed watches Izzy pay for four tries; he knows he won't need them all. They'd run harder scams than this when they'd been young, and Izzy tosses one of the plushes in the air, pretending to show off.

Ed can tell by looking at him that he's figured out how the tiny plush is weighted. The carnie seems a little concerned, but Ed figures it'll be good for his business if a cranky old man makes it look easy.

It takes Izzy three tries to win. He sinks the fourth tiny plush just to gloat.

In the present day, Izzy returns and sits down on the other side of the plushie that's half his size, facing the promenade and watching the thin crowds meander past. "You want to take that thing back to the room?" Izzy asks.

"That thing," Ed scoffs. "This is our child, Iz. Our son, Horny."

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Apr 3

youth pastor voice. hey kids do you know who else everyone thought was dead but came back anyway (screenshots by @ofmdframes.bsky.social )

Ed Teach smiling at Stede (offscreen) in the gravy basket, as he finds his will to live. he's underwater and his hair is floating about his head

Izzy Hands standing on the deck of the Revenge in the rain with a gun, a scar visible on his forehead DON'T WORRY about what happens to him at the end of the series, Jesus had to leave after he came back that one time too it's fine

Stede covered in blood (not his) as he escapes from his death-faking fuckery at the end of season one, he's looking out of a carriage and smiling to himself

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 31

You've said a lot of good and interesting things here but the parenthetical gave me this so i must share

Wile E Coyote, a grumpy looking cartoon coyote, glaring or smiling at Road Runner, a cheerful cartoon bird, inside an orange & yellow circular frame. Except the bird has a shittily drawn yellow mustache & the coyote has an X drawn on his cheek. The bird has a speech bubble that says "whip whip"

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 24

They gave him a bread 🥺

A blurry Izzy Hands sitting in the background of the crew. He is holding a piece of bread and watching them somewhat warily.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 21

Nice fifty

A screenshot of a fundraising goal tracker. It's at 92.1% of a 75k goal, which is $69,050

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 15

The reincarnated enemies to lovers of it all...

A set of 4 randomized images. The top two are characters & the bottom two are prompts.

The characters are Calico Jack & Karl the seabird. The prompts are "1800s" & "Long distance."

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 9

Airfrying EdIzzy right now

A screenshot of the Best Buy app, showing the text "Tech to fuel your fandom" over an image of an air fryer or toaster oven on a counter. The air fryer is surrounded by the type of food you serve at a sports watch party, as well as a whole chicken and some salmon.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Mar 6

The US number is super interesting to me—I'll link to the study in next post but this blurb highlights why

Democrats and independents who lean toward the Democratic Party are much more likely than Republicans and Republican leaners to rate fellow Americans as morally and ethically bad (60% vs. 46%). And previous research has shown that rising numbers of both Republicans and Democrats say people in the other party are immoral.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Feb 20

Samba deciding if nobody else is gonna make Izzy/Roach/Jim rareship content, he might as well do it himself

Screenshot from Samba Schutte's IG stories. Two images one on top of the other. Both have Samba in center in a red hoodie, Con O'Neill on his right & Vico Ortiz on his left. They're looking at him with confident smirks in the top photo & then each other in the bottom photo, & he's glancing incredulously wide eyed between them. The caption says, "They made a proposition I could not refuse..."

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Feb 18

Absolutely carried by these two results

A phone tab showing a result from dialed.gg hard mode:

45.93/50
Tetrachromat or obsessive? Either way, maybe go outside. You ranked 2,341 out of 25,686

A phone tab showing a single color match result (top color guessed, bottom color actual). The result is 9.79 out of 10. The colors are a beige with pink undertones.

A phone tab showing a different color match result. Also 9.79. this time the colors are a sort of hunter green, or green with a soft blue undertone.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Feb 17

Gone lol

Bsky error reading, "Not found: account has been suspended"

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Feb 7

A bedraggled Izzy Hands sits on a bed with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. He's hunched over and frowning, and his limp greasy hair is covering some of his face. The background is grim and dark, wood paneling in the belly of a ship.

UD@unplsntdvrsns· Feb 3

can i say something. if this were in character, everyone except The Dufus would probably think they're the number one & the other person is the sidekick