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Summary
“Supposedly,” Ed mutters, voice dredged in scorn so thick that if the Swede were around to hear it he'd likely be a snivelling mess, “It's more cost effective and easier to transport if we build it ourselves. Apparently so easy that even Swedish children can do it. Oh, don't worry!” he adds, with a derisive, mad little laugh. “He left instructions!”
Ed flicks at the parchment with the back of his hand, and, curiously, Stede opens it to find…
The instructions.
“...He can't write,” Stede says, realisation dawning.
“He can't write.”
(OR: The Swede invents flat pack furniture. Ed isn’t used to failure. Stede is. They get through these trying times together, and maybe have a little sex about it. Heavy on humour, heavy on Big Feelings~)
