#ed is totally and utterly gone

[temporal-discounting]

It's the same gif

[untamedyouth]

4/29/24

11:30 AM

I feel utterly pathetic right now. Totally debilitated. I feel mute and paralyzed.

Graduation is in exactly 4 days from now. But I still struggle every time I have to return to campus.

I feel like a failure. It feels like I didn’t earn my degree properly because I didn’t attend in person like everyone else. I had it “easier.” I know I did.

I have to go and pick up my extra graduation tickets and graduation cords from the Newspaper—but the thought of having to show my face and interact with anyone (whether I have makeup on or not) horrifies me. To the point where I feel like I could puke.

I broke down over it. I don’t deserve my degree, at least not after this semester; I’ve chatgpt-ed nearly my entire way through.

I know the honorable thing to do would have been to take a semester off to recover properly so then I can truly do my own best work—but to be real, I wouldn’t have gone back if I did that. I know I wouldn’t have, so maybe this was the help I truly needed? I’m not sure.

I’m capable, that’s true—I did it, maybe not correctly, but I got myself here.

I don’t know what to do right now though. I feel like all I can do is sit here and color. After sobbing the way I did, it’s hard to focus on anything. Besides, I also took several hits in order to calm down anyway; which doesn’t help academic focus or physical motivation obviously.

I still have to go. I just have to do it. If people see me look like a zombie—so be it I guess. I hate that.

Here come the tears again as I mentally tell myself, “toughen up, kid” in my dad’s voice. Why am I so fucking weak?

Dramatic as always

M.R

[eddiescorrodedcoffin86]

Sweet Dreams

Secret Steddie

Steddie Masterlist

Steve has a… less than appropriate dream about his “friend” Eddie while the gang is hanging out at the Harrington’s.

Minors Go Away I’ll Kick You In The Forehead. Steddie. Smut. Handjobs. Heavy Making Out. Spitting. Heavy Petting. Brief Anal Fingering. Anal Sex. Hair-pulling. Spitting. Light Choking. Dream Sex. Wet Dreams. The gang is around but asleep and not explicitly mentioned during the smut (I lied they’re mentioned a couple times but only Nancy by name once the smut gets started. Eddie uses it against Steve). So, like, technically public I guess? Semi-public. Degradation. Steve’s Edging Himself (Eddie literally has no idea). Eddie Calls Steve Baby Girl One Time and It Makes Him Cum.

Steve blinked rapidly and scoffed. “What are you talking about? No I’m not. I can be discreet.” “Oh, yeah, cause the way you were poking your ass out towards me and looking at me over your shoulder with those big “fuck me” eyes was totally discreet.” Eddie taunted, making Steve blush and shake his head. “I wasn’t-“ “oh, yes, you were.”

Steve blinked rapidly and scoffed. “What are you talking about? No I’m not. I can be discreet.” “Oh, yeah, cause the way you were poking your ass out towards me and looking at me over your shoulder with those big “fuck me” eyes was totally discreet.” Eddie taunted, making Steve blush and shake his head. “I wasn’t-“ “oh, yes, you were.”

Eddie was trying to sleep, and he’d been close, sleep scratching at the base of his skull as he laid there, feet away from his boyfriend who he couldn’t even lay next to because there were children around and they had a habit of… not keeping their hands to themselves when they were the only ones (awake) in a room.

Then he heard a shifting from said boy. Steve. Easily about five or ten feet away from Eddie, laid on his stomach on his bed with his face shoved into a pillow. When Eddie looked, though, Steve was completely and utterly asleep, his hands under the pillow, which caused the most delicious curve to bend at the bottom of his back that Eddie was dying to press his lips against.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were gone, off on some bullshit cruise they didn’t want to bring Steve on, so when the party was looking for somewhere for all of them to spend the weekend, Steve’s house had been chosen almost immediately.

His head snapped up when his eyes caught an all too familiar movement of Steve’s hips. Steve was rocking down against his mattress, slow, and if he listened hard enough Eddie could hear the muffled moans from the pretty boy. He lifted up and leaned back on his hand to listen better, glancing around the room to make sure no one else was awake before getting up.

He crept over onto Steve's bed as slowly and gently as he could.

Eddie was pounding into Steve, his rings fingers gripping his hair tightly as he leaned close to his ear. “Listen to yourself.” Eddie taunted, his lips brushing Steve’s ear as he pushed deeper into him. “Moaning like a little slut for the town freak.” He hummed softly. The sluttiest sounds were leaving Steve’s mouth, broken gasps and ‘uh’s with each forceful thrust of his hips. “C-Can’t help it. Fuck me so good, Eddie.”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was still asleep before he pressed a kiss to Steve’s neck, sliding under the blankets behind him. “Steve~” he purred softly, sliding his hand over his side slowly, coaxing Steve awake with his lips on his neck and his hands all over him.

Steve’s eyes fluttered when he felt Eddie’s hands on him, and at first he smiled, feeling the rings against his skin. It took him a second to remember that they weren’t the only ones in the room, that there was about eight people sleeping on his floor. But when he did he whined and gently rolled away from Eddie, who immediately grabbed him and pulled him back again. “Eds we can’t..” he said softly.

“Come on… everyone’s asleep. As long as you be a good boy and stay quiet for me we’ll be fine.” Eddie whispered, kissing the shell of his ear lightly. Steve shifted a little and bit his lip. “… fine but we have to be quick.” He said softly. Eddie chuckled softly and reached up, turning Steve’s head and kissing him.

Eddie’s hand was in his sweats now, palming him over his boxers while their tongues tangled and fought for dominance. Steve bucked against his hand and moaned softly against his lips, causing Eddie to smirk. “Already making noise and I’m barely touching you.” He shook his head. “Have sweet dreams?” He taunted.

Steve blushed deeply and shifted a little as he pulled away from the kiss. “Um…” he chuckled softly and bit his lip. “I was thinking about the first time we… Y’know.” He said softly, looking up at Eddie and licking his lips slowly. Eddie smirked and raised a brow. “Yeah?” He hummed softly.

Steve nodded quickly as Eddie chuckled. “Mm I think about that a lot.” Eddie nodded, moving to kiss Steve’s neck, latching on lightly and biting down lightly. “Couldn’t stop looking at you in those swim trunks.” He smirked. “Then I caught you looking at me..” he started sucking harder on his neck. “And it was game on.”

Steve let out a weak chuckle and turned his head a little to muffle his moans into his pillow. “Eds, please…” he mumbled softly. “Please what?” “Something. Do something please.” He pushed back against him, half hoping Eddie would just fuck him.

Eddie hummed softly. “That you were worried about getting caught?” He taunted as Steve whined and shook his head, huffing. “Y-you said they were asleep I-I can be quiet.” He turned his head to look at him. “Please?”

Eddie pretended like he was thinking about it, as if he’d ever deny Steve an orgasm for any reason. “If you can promise to be a good boy.” Steve was nodding immediately, his head moving rapidly. “I can be good. I’ll be quiet.” Eddie chuckled and leaned in to kiss him before leaning back and bringing his hand up to Steve’s mouth. “Spit.”

Steve spit into his hand quickly, Eddie’s other hand playing with the hem of his sweats. “Good boy.” He purred. He edged the front of Steve’s sweats and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out. Steve pulled the blanket up over them, so just incase someone did wake up they wouldn’t see anything and they could come up with a lie.

They weren’t ready to tell their friends yet and they wanted Robin and Nancy to be the first to know. They definitely didn’t want it to be because they saw his dick in Eddie’s hand, that would be permanently awkward, they’d simply never recover.

Eddie reached down and wrapped his hand around the base of Steve’s already weeping cock, chuckling softly. “Didn’t even need spit.” He tsked lightly, shaking his head. “Already so slippery.” Steve made a face at his wording. “I told you to stop saying that.” His sentence ended with a broken moan, bringing the blanket up to cover his face, his eyelids fluttering.

“You’re the whore having wet dreams about his boyfriend with our friends around.” Eddie tangled his fingers in Steve’s hand and yanked his head back, pulling a gasp from Steve. “Look at you. You’re strong, Stevie.” He whispered, his lips right next to his ear. “You could stop me whenever you want.” His hand twisted when he reached his tip. “But you’re not going to, are you?”

Steve scoffed weakly and shuddered as his hips bucked into Eddie’s hand, letting his head go wherever Eddie pulled it. “Y-you know I’m not.” He closed his eyes. “And why is that?” Eddie smirked against his ear. He wanted to hear him say it.

Steve loved and hated when Eddie got like this, in moments where he had to be quiet, like right now, he fucking hated it. It was impossible for him to keep his composure when Eddie was talking to him like this. “Because… because I’m-“ his sentence broke with a moan. “Because you’re…?” Eddie slowed his hand, making Steve whimper and grab his arm to try and speed him up again.

This just resulted in Eddie snaking his hand under Steve to grab his throat. “Don’t you dare.” He whispered. “Say it and I’ll speed up again.” Steve whimpered and shuddered a little. “B-because I’m a little slut.” He let out a breath of relief when Eddie sped his hand up again. “That’s right.” Eddie hummed and kissed his temple, keeping his hand on his throat.

“You’re just a slutty little boy with a slutty little cock, huh?” Eddie purred in his ear. Steve was going to have a heart attack. Eddie was talking to him like this at the worst possible time. He was supposed to be being quiet. How was he going to do that with Eddie tallying to him like that. “Y-yes.” He whimpered, nodding quickly.

Eddie chuckled softly and shook his head. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” He whispered, tracing the shell of Steve’s ear with his tongue, sliding the pink muscle over the sensitive spot behind his ear, and then down his neck as Steve nodded rapidly. “Please.” “Hmm… how much prep do you think you’ll need?” He hummed.

“Not much.” Steve shook his head and shifted so he could push his sweats and boxers down. “Please, Ed’s.. need you.” He begged, looking back at him and shifting. “So impatient. I just got up here.” Eddie tsked lightly and shoved his fingers into Steve’s mouth. “Get them nice and wet.” He whispered in his ear, letting go of Steve so he could get his own sweats and boxers down.

Steve focused on sucking on Eddie’s fingers, sliding his tongue over them to get them wet as possible while he shifted back against Eddie brusquely. Eddie pulled his fingers out when he was satisfied and snickered. “You need a lesson in manners, sweetheart.” He teased, his hand disappearing between them.

Steve opened his mouth to retaliate but was cut off by a gasp, turning his head to push his face into the pillow, moaning into the soft cotton pillowcase as Eddie slid two fingers into him. “Open just enough for two.” Eddie chuckled softly. “Guess our extra long night paid off, huh?” He whispered teasingly.

Steve huffed into the pillow and grabbed onto Eddie’s hand when it slid back under him, lacing their fingers tightly while Eddie thrusted his fingers in and out of him slowly, scissoring his fingers to open him up more. “Ed’s please I can take it.” He whined and shifted a little. “You’re so impatient. Here I am trying to get you ready so I don’t hurt you.” Eddie tsked quietly and leaned close to Steve’s ear. “And you’re being a desperate little whore.” He pulled his fingers out, much to Steve’s dismay, but he knew soon they’d be replaced with something better. Something thicker.

“You know I like to take my time and you’re always rushing me. All whiney and pouty about how I’m taking too long.” Eddie scoffed and shook his head. Steve could hear him spit into his hand. A few seconds after that Steve could feel Eddie’s dull tip at his hole, pushing past his fluttering rim with little resistance.

Eddie cursed softly and leaned his head down to nuzzle his face into Steve’s neck, taking a deep breath. “Fuck you feel so good, Stevie.” He whispered softly, placing feather-light kisses to Steve’s neck. Steve was swooning all over again, the tone of Eddie’s voice had every nerve in his body tingling.

Eddie let Steve adjust, starting with slow calculated rocks of his hips, his free hand gripped tightly onto Steve’s hip while the other stayed intertwined with Steve’s. Once he felt less resistance he started to pick up his pace a little bit, making sure to move so the bed wouldn’t squeak. He’d snuck into Steve’s room while the Harrington’s were home so much at this point he memorized every squeaky board and spring in the house so they wouldn’t get caught together.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would definitely kill him if they found out he’d corrupted their only child and ‘turned him into a homo’, something Eddie had heard Mr. Harrington saying about Nancy, claiming he was afraid Nancy had somehow turned Steve off from girls, since he hadn’t a date with a girl since the two broke up. Eddie had laughed at the irony, thus ruining the mood for Steve, even if Eddie had been more than ready to continue.

“Fuck, Stevie.” He mumbled softly, hanging his head so it rested on the top of Steve’s head while he fucked into him, his grip tightening a bit on Steve’s hand. Steve was making the cutest sounds, the blanket still pulled up to cover his mouth. He’d limited his typically loud, enthusiastic moans and whines for bitten back, muffled ones, his eyelids fluttering with each push of Eddie’s hips.

“Look at you~” Eddie purred, barely able to see Steve’s face with the way the blanket was pulled up, only the tops of his cheeks and up was visible. The top of his cheeks were bright red, the color spreading to his nose as his. “Look so pretty like this, Stevie.” He kissed the side of his lightly.

“Eddie~” Steve whined and curled the blanket up in his fist against his mouth, the words slightly muffled but just loud enough for Eddie to hear. Eddie smirked, chuckling softly against Steve’s ear, pressing a kiss to the warm skin. “Gotta be a little quieter for me. Don’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are, Hm?”

Steve huffed into the blanket and pushed back against Eddie, desperate for more. Eddie, who was almost giving him his all, shifted so he could get a better angle and push deeper into him. “You’re so pouty.” He scoffed lightly. “Here I am being so nice. Fucking you with our friends two feet away and you won’t stop whining.”

Steve blushed more and pulled the blanket up a little more to hide his eyes, glancing over at Nancy’s curled up form on the floor momentarily. Eddie tugged the blanket away from his face and grabbed his chin to turn his head. “Look at me.” He said firmly. “You know I like when you look at me.” He said firmly.

Steve nodded quickly and looked up at Eddie the best he could, it was a pretty awkward angle, his neck was a little sore but he could ignore that for the sake of looking at Eddie’s beautiful chocolate brown eyes. God he loved him so much.

“There ya go.. such a good boy.” Eddie purred, pushing his hips deeper into Steve with a particularly hard thrust that sent Steve forward and punched a slightly high-pitched ‘oh’ out of him. He smirked and made it a habit to work that same thrust in rhythmically within his other thrusts.

Eddie’s hand shot up to cover Steve’s mouth over the blanket when his tip grazed Steve’s prostate. He’d let his resolve slip a bit, surprised by the sudden pressure, and let out a pretty loud moaning/yelping sound, muffled halfway through by Eddie’s hand.

“Listen to you.” Eddie chuckled and shook his head, continuing to hit that spot with his hand held tightly over Steve’s mouth, only his nose free so he could barely get in any air but it was enough to keep him alert and awake, even if his blanket was brushing his septum. “You just can’t keep quiet.” He whispered.

Steve’s eyes were fluttering, twitching between open and closed with every harsh push of Eddie’s hips. He was doing his best to stay quiet, and while he was succeeding he was still letting out weak whimpers into his and Eddie’s hands. God he hoped nobody heard him…

He couldn’t really hear what Eddie was saying at this point, too focused on his breathing and staying quiet, and the feeling of Eddie inside him. His cock was leaking onto his sheet, and with the way his cock was rubbing into it, he’d definitely have to buy new sheets.

When Eddie thought Steve could hand covering his sounds on his own, he moved his hand and rested his forehead against Steve’s head, groaning softly before starting to pant lightly. “Fuck.” He reached down and wrapped his hand around the tip of Steve’s cock, letting the push of his hips thrust Steve’s cock in and out of his fist.

“You gonna cum for me sweetheart?” He purred softly, biting the back of Steve’s neck when he turned his head to muffle his moan into his pillow, the hand that wasn’t (still) held tightly onto Eddie’s grabbing onto the pillow to pull it closer to him as he nodded quickly. Letting out a weak, muffled “please” into the goose down pillow.

Every muscle in his body was trembling now, having been holding himself off for a while now to keep it going, the pressure building and building ever since Eddie had hit his prostate the first time. “Aww.” Eddie whispered, pressing kisses over Steve’s skin before sliding his tongue up the middle of Steve’s back, starting as low as he could without pulling out of him. “Go ahead.” He hummed. “Cum for me, baby girl.”

Steve let out an embarrassing squealing moan as he came hard onto the bed, trembling and tightening around Eddie’s cock tightly. Eddie groaned and dropped his head into Steve’s neck, biting onto the skin to muffle the moan he let out, pushing deep into Steve as he came, shuddering and moving down onto his elbow. “Oh fuck.” He whispered, chuckling breathlessly and turning Steve’s head to kiss him sloppily, tangling their tongues and sliding his hand into Steve’s hair. “You did so good for me, sweetheart.”

Steve kissed back just as enthusiastically, letting go of Eddie’s hand so he could grab onto his face, realizing his hand was a little numb from their weight. Eddie’s hand must be completely none existent.

His hand was pretty sore, his wrist aching and pins and needles shooting through them as he pulled his hand out from under Steve, but these were the consequences of having a hot boyfriend and he wouldn’t change it for anything. He pulled away to reach down and grab Steve’s shirt off the ground.

“We’ll shower once everyone is gone.” Eddie promised, kissing Steve much gentler this time as he slid out of him and rolled him over to clean him up, pressing little kisses over his chest. “And you have two options… I can stay up here and we can come up with some excuse.. or I can go back to my spot on the floor.” He said softly, tossing Steve’s shirt under the bed.

Steve bit his lip and watched Eddie throw the shirt under the edge and shifted. “Or… we could tell them…” he reached up to busy his hands with playing with the ends of Eddie’s sweat-damp hair. Eddie tilted his head as his eyes widened a little. “I… you wanna? I mean I’m cool with it… it’s up to you.”

Steve nodded a little. “Yeah.” He said softly. “I’ve been thinking about it.. we should tell them. They’re our friends.” He hesitated before looking up at Eddie’s face. Did Eddie not want this?

Slowly Eddie’s deer-caught-in-the-headlights look turned into a face-splitting grin, he surged down and kissed Steve quickly before moving to push his face into his neck and pull him close. “Let’s do it.” He said happily. Steve kissed and smiled widely, looking down at Eddie and hugging him tightly. “You mean it?”

Eddie chuckled and nodded, hugging Steve tighter. “Yeah of course. I love you, Stevie. I’d scream it from the rooftops if you asked me to.” Steve blushed and smiled as he nuzzled the top of Eddie’s head. “Maybe another time.” He said softly. Eddie smiled. “Whenever you want.” He looked up at Steve and kiss d his cheek. “Let’s get some sleep.” He said softly.

Steve nodded and held Eddie close, closing his eyes and humming sleepily. “Night, Ed’s.” He said softly. Eddie smiled and pressed a kiss to Steve’s chest. “Night, Stevie.” He said softly. “Sweet dreams.”

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🧍🏻‍♀️

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Headcanons

List of headcanons I have for Father Paul Hill and being in a relationship with him. Some of these are discarded stories, oops. If anything doesn't make sense and/or the grammar's wonky, I'm sorry, I started writing it last night after I came home from a friend's house, where I was served, uh, spicy beverages.

gif by @hamish-linklater-btc​

Headcanons

✞  Paul is touch starved - while his parents loved him deeply, they never really showed it through hugs or other physical affection other than an embrace on his birthday or when he came home after being gone for some time. Therefore physical contact really gets to him. His friends in seminary used to tease him about it a little every time he got overwhelmed just because they all hugged him shortly each time they saw each other. Always in a good fun though.

His mood though still improves considerably every time someone touches him in a fond kind of manner. Wade's soft slap upon his shoulder, Annie petting his arm in a motherly kind of way, Ed's firm handshake every time they meet and Riley sometimes nudging him with his elbow - it all just brings a wide smile to his face, because he feels loved and accepted.

Most of all though, it's the touches he receives from you - when you put your warm hands on his cheeks to get him to look up at you after he's had a bad day, when you card your fingers through his hair to calm him down, when you hold his hand enthusiastically to lead him somewhere, or nearly shyly, when it's you who requires his comfort. And then later, when you touch him everywhere you can, depending on the situation and company you're in. The comfort of your arms when you hold him close, his head upon your chest, stomach or lap, is overwhelming, even after weeks or months. The first time you held his head close to your own heart, enfolding him in your heavenly presence just to comfort him nearly brought tears to his eyes and he still feels so utterly at peace when you hold him like that.

✞ He's not a total newbie when it comes to cooking. Mind you, he's not winning some telly competition anytime soon, but he can cook some basic meals and is brilliant at following orders. His pancakes and his sandwiches are absolutely to die for.

He likes cooking with you, as it always means flirty banter and a lot of teasing. He gets very playful and as much as you try to chase him off with a spatula because you 'really need to stir the bechamel sauce' , he still always comes back to tease you again. One time you actually managed to nearly ruin a very simple meal and, while still good, you knew you could have done better. "I hope you're happy," you said to him, no hard feelings in your tone. He had the audacity to wink at you, grin and shovel a very big bite into his mouth. "Worth it," he said.

✞ Father Paul could get very mischievous and cheeky, and that was always a lot of fun, but he got very shy too. Everything sexual was a big unknown to him, so you had to guide him quite a bit at first. He had a very healthy appetite, good stamina and was a quick learner but even after a few weeks of the two of you regularly engaging in sexual acts, he still didn't quite know how to go about it when he got in the mood. And did he get in the mood. It really was a little awkward at first, especially when he'd grind his hips into your own and then just sort of stand there with red cheeks and his eyes turned down, as if waiting for his verdict. But then, gradually, it got better.

After some time, he'd get way more daring, making his intention known through sweet talk right against your ear, and really, how could you ever say no? Because once the two of you set your boundaries for things you are willing to try and things you absolutely wouldn't, he was getting better and better each time in bringing you pleasure and making you feel adored. Worshipped even. One does not simply pass up on that.

✞ Ever since he came to Crockett Island, Paul acquired many friends, among his parishioners and outside of them. He's able to share a part of himself with everyone on the island, but it's only you with whom he shares his complete self. Little by little, he'd uncover his life story to you and you'd do the same, keeping no secrets. You'd tell him about your previous boyfriends and why you were no longer with them. And while he was utterly without bodily experience before you came into his life, he never once judged you. The only thing he, selfishly, wished for was that he was your last lover. The final one. That despite all of the circumstances going against you two, you'd be able to spend your lives together. He'd never openly say so, though.

✞ Paul's scalp is sensitive. You'd find out accidentally. Carding your fingers through his soft hair was nothing new to you, but one time you accidentally tugged, as you were in heaps of pleasure. You wouldn't ever forget that; the way his head fell back, even though you only pulled at his hair a little bit. His high pitched moan was forever written in your memory.

✞ Paul adores your voice. It can make him feel all sorts of emotions. When you know he needs comfort and gentleness above everything else, you read to him. Anything really. Be it Lord of the Rings, The Princess Bride or even The Bible itself, as long as you read it to him gently and quietly, he will fall into restful sleep. When a song you know and like starts playing on the radio (or record player), you sing. And he wants to dance. And he sings too. He doesn't really dance that well, and sometimes his tones are vastly different from the music, but you still love to hear him sing and dance with him. And he utterly adores hearing you sing - even if your tones are sometimes even more different than his own. And when you talk about your interests and your knowledge on them, he just listens, awed with the entirety of you. His idea of heaven now is with his head in your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, while you talk to him softly, burning love accompanying your every word.

✞ He’s got a bit of a problem with the secrecy of your relationship. While he's perfectly aware that he's risking his entire career by being 'too close' to you, he simply cannot help himself. During the summer and, more importantly, the "Great Crockpot Barbecue Party" he was absolutely seen holding your hand more often than not. He wouldn't openly tell anyone, but sometimes he simply cannot pretend you're just one of his parishioners.

However, later in the evening, when everyone's had a few drinks and they're no longer "reliable witnesses", he'd dance with you. In front of everyone still there. Then he's able to whisper into your ear and kiss you soundly without anyone else left really noticing him doing so. You'd always remember your first slow dance; Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby, by Cigarettes After Sex

Back then, the two of you were attending Erin's party, only a few short weeks before she was to give birth to her daughter. The window was open and you could hear her conversation with Riley Flynn.

"So you found them? What are they doing?... Wait, I don't actually wanna know."

"They're just slow dancing," Erin replied. "Kissing a little bit maybe…. They're doing out there what everyone else does here." If Erin said anything else after that was unknown to you, as you were way too preoccupied by engaging the priest's tongue in a battle for dominance outside.

✞ He's got a taste for hot cider on cold, stormy nights. Combine that, lots and lots of candles and a good book and you've got a happy priest. Best enjoyed in a pillow fort you built in your living room, just for the fun of it.

✞ Paul has the opposite of a green thumb. He cannot keep a plant alive, not even the 'unkillable' plants. He'd either water it too little, or too much, or he'd forget about it and then attempt to fix the damage by pouring an entire pitcher of water into the pot. Everytime he actually bought a house plant with the intention to 'do it right this time', he ended up bitterly throwing the yellowed remains with rotten roots into the trash.

✞ He's not that much of a morning person. Of course, his day starts early as he's got mass to serve, but on the rare occasions he's got a free day there's no getting him out of bed before 11. And now that he's got a deliciously warm soft body next to him in bed, it's even harder to leave.

✞ The priest is ticklish, particularly on his sides and feet. You noticed once that he shied away from you when you stroked down the sides of his torso with just your fingers. When you asked him if he was ticklish, and he (naively) not only said that he was and even told you where, you gained a new hobby - tickling the poor man until he was tearing up from laughter. The best things in life really are free.

Hi, i hope that wasn’t too terrible. If you wanna, you can check this thing and the entire series out on AO3 I live and breathe and write for reviews <333

[fromchaostocosmos]

Can we also not forget the vast amount of American citizens (and the many undocumented people who live here) who will totally and utterly fucked over by having Trump as a president again.

Because it is not just Trump as president, which is bad enough, but is also all the people he brings with him and all the people who appoints and gives power to.

I'm sorry, but why do none of us ever enter into the equation for all of refuse to vote or fuck Biden people.

Like do we and our rights and our safety not count in your minds.

Do the children in the USA who rely on lunch programs not exist to you, because you know under Trump those programs will be gone because republicans will want them gone.

Say goodbye to social programs, social wealth fare, to sex ed in public schools, to comprehensive education in public schools, to funding for public libraries, to funding for public schools, to civil rights and liberties, and just so much more.

Do you not remember what is was like during Trumps presidency? How fucking scary it was? How out of the norm it was? How rules were being broken all over the place.

How Neo-Nazis, White Supremacists, and White Nationalists felt comfortable enough to say there beliefs in public proudly with out any care.

Do you not remember the massive spike in hate crimes?

For all you claim that stance on voting or I should say not voting comes from a place of concern and care the truth and reality is that ultimately selfish.

What you are doing is selfish and it is a self-centered act to inflate your own ego. You are putting so many people in danger, including the people you claim to care for, in danger by refusing to vote, especially by choosing to say to say fuck Biden.

You have chosen to not understand to reality of have treaties work, international politics work, of have other countries work, or how really what is going and how it got this in regards to Israel and Palestine.

And because of that you are going to fuck over and endanger the lives of millions of people.

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote

The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.

I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.

Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.

I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.

I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.

[blakbonnet]

I am also a "the beard is hot" person... But i also got really sad during that scene.

Stede basically runs away from him after being like "ah!" about the beard.

On my first watch through... I was like awhh Stede noooo don't just leave him aloneeeee. Even though I was also surprised at first.

I love Stede but he's such a meanie sometimes.

Then the whole beach scene happened and I was OMG THEY KISS... Then Stede runs away again and i was just was like nononononono the whole time.

He really needs to work on his flight response to stress. It's very painful 😣.

I understand completely. All jokes aside lol, I don't think stede intended to be mean. I think that was his "oh fuck" moment where he realised that not only had he landed them in this situation by "pretending to be a pirate" (stede's thought process not mine), but now he has essentially taken everything from Ed. Stede probably doesn't realise how much Ed hates being Blackbeard though, does he? And he doesn't realise the depth of Ed's feelings for him either. Cause people don't fall for Stede Bonnet, Stede has so many self esteem issues, he thinks he's completely and utterly unlovable.

So he runs away not from Ed but from the idea that not only is Blackbeard without his beard now (and folding clothes instead of idk swinging cutlasses), but the essential idea of Blackbeard (for stede) ie planning an escape from this nightmare - is also gone... because of him. That Ed isn't coming up with a plan cause Stede has totally and utterly ruined him.

And Stede shouldn't think that cause he's a smart, thoughtful, kind man who is sometimes stupid yes but hey - he never ruined Ed is the cold hard fact. Mainly because he never intended to and both Stede and us forget that sometimes. Stede needs to forgive himself for whatever he thinks he's done here, and it takes Mary and her infinite wisdom to make him realise that.

[straightupsickfics]

a tiny companion ficlet to @softersteve 's truly adorable office au from last night <3

****

Ed makes himself get home, make dinner, and feed himself and Kraken the Cat before he gives in to the niggling voice in the back of his head and messages Stede. 

On Slack of all things, because he isn’t smooth enough to have gotten Stede's number yet, despite the many, many stops by his desk for tea and chatting about everything and nothing. Though, now that he thinks about it, the topic almost never drifts back to work itself when they’re together, Ed notes fondly. 

[Edward Teach; 7:46 PM]: Sorry to bother you after hours, just wanted to make sure you didn’t pass out on your way home. 

[Edward Teach; 7:47 PM]: Realized I don’t actually have your number or I would’ve just texted. 

[Edward Teach; 7:47 PM]: Not that you need to feel obligated to give me your number. UM, anyway, I hope you’re not feeling too bad.

Ed throws his phone onto the couch beside him, heart pounding. He sounds like an idiot, he knows, and he’s bothering Stede during his evening because he has very poor impulse control, a crush that only seems to grow by the day, and well...

Stede really did look unfairly unfairly cute by the end of the day, with his shirt undone at the collar and his hair a mess of fly aways. His glasses had kept slipping down his nose, too, every time he had to pinch back a sneeze or blow his nose, which was every few minutes by the end of the day.

Not that Ed was keeping track.

That much.

Ed's phone lights up on the couch, and he all but lunges for it.

[Stede Bonnet; 7:50 PM]: :) Don't apologize, you could never bother me. I should apologize for coming in sick today, germing the place up.

[Stede Bonnet; 7:51 PM]: I think NyQuil is in my immediate future. Must've sneezed a dozen times on the way home, lucky I didn't cause an accident at that rate.

Ed's stomach gives another warm little flip as he reads that message. He can just picture Stede in his car, ducking into his elbow to sneeze and blessing himself despite being alone in the car.

[Stede Bonnet; 7:52 PM]: Oh! And out of zero obligation whatsoever: 555-967-5675 :) Really, thank you for checking on me.

Ed's tempted to throw his phone again at the sight of Stede's phone number on his screen, right there beside a little smiley face. He's smiling stupidly into the phone, he knows, but he can't stop it either.

Before he can lose his nerve he picks up his phone and texts Stede.

Glad there were no casualties on your way home :) (This is Ed)

(I know) Hi, Ed!

Ed can only grin some more because he really is totally gone for this utterly charming, completely ridiculous man.

He lets himself wonder what Stede is doing now, if he's on his couch or in bed, if he has pets. And if so, would said pet would like to get to know a black cat named after a sea monster?

His phone lights up again.

I probably won't be in tomorrow, unfortunately. This cold has officially caught me

As much as Ed hates when Stede isn't there to distract him from his reports, countless meetings, and mindless tasks, he knows Stede probably needs the a weekend to deal with his cold.

Only unfortunate for me. Who will I talk to on my way to the kitchen? You need the rest.

I'll miss you, too :)

Ed's pretty sure his palms are sweating.

Lunch when you get back? Make up for lost time?

It's a date!

Ed might very well fall asleep smiling.

[mango-bango-bby]

Can I request a part two to Dabi's tinder date with a naive darling? Please make it extra smutty 🙏🙏

♡ Be Mine (Part Two) ♡

(A/N: I kinda got carried away with this one.... and by carried away, I ended up writing 1.6k words. So hope that you like this and that it’s decent. I’m not very good at writing smut)

Summary: After agreeing to be Dabi’s little girlfriend, he decides to show you exactly what couples do for and to each other (Yan!Dabi x Fem!Reader)

(⚠️ Size kink, soft!Dabi, manipulation, corruption kink, innocence kink, virgin!reader, unsafe sex and creampie, very slight NON-CON and DUB-CON ⚠️)

Part One: Here ♡

It feels hot. You’re hot. Everything just feels on fire as Dabi places rough kisses over you neck. You let out a small whine when he bites down on the crook of your neck. “D-Dabi, that hurt” you whimper, looking at your date with teary eyes. Dabi raises an eyebrow at you before lowly chuckling at you, leaving you utterly confused.

“Babygirl” He drawls “Now that your my girl, I’ve gotta show ya’ innocent little mind the ropes” He speaks, biting down on your neck once again. You couldn’t really deny the fact that you were ‘innocent’. You never got any dirty jokes, never got when someone was hitting on you. Not that anyone else would know, but you had also never even masturbated before.

You whimper loudly when Dabi bites down even harder than he had been doing before. “That, angel, is a hickey” He explains, knowing that you clearly don’t know what he’s doing. You only nod your head, still not totally understanding him.

Dabi roughly pulls at your shirt, bringing it above your chest. You let out a yelp, pulling your shirt back down, only to be met with Dabi’s stone-cold-gaze. “C’mon, don’t act all shy on me now, dollface. You were makin’ out with me just a minute ago, don’t you wanna your boyfriend happy?” He asks, resting his hands on your waist and using his thumbs to caress your skin.

You look down, you did just agree to be his. You agreed to be his, so technically now he is your boyfriend. And, that’s what you wanted. Girlfriends were supposed to make their boyfriends happy and stuff, right?

Dabi notices your body relaxing slightly so he reaches up and pulls your top off. Even your bra is cute. Dabi doesn’t even reach behind you to unbuckle your bra, instead opting to tear it in half. Before you can reach down to cover your chest, he grabs your wrists, so you can’t shield yourself from him.

“Hey, princess?” Dabi asks, you hum in response, not wanting to look at his face out of embarrassment. “You ever touched yourself, baby?” He asks, his voice still staying completely calm even though you let out a loud flustered squeak. You turn your head away from him, letting a small “no” slip from your lips.

“No, hmm?” Dabi ponders. He had been stalking you for a while before your ‘dates’, so he had known that you were naive and innocently had his suspicions that you were a virgin but this confirmed it. “You haven’t done this before?” He asks, leaning his face dangerously close to yours while he shoves his hand down your skirt and panties. Gently and teasingly rubbing your cunt through the thin fabric of your undergarments. You moan at the unknown sensation and throbbing between your thighs.

You shake your head ‘no’ and bite your lip at the sensation. Dabi takes this a step further, ripping your panties off, now only leaving you in your skirt. Dabi let’s out a dark snicker, already feeling the slick coating his fingers. He thinks about fingering you but then he’d be wasting your virginity on his fingers.

You avert your eyes when Dabi pulls off his raggedy shirt. Even just him being shirtless is enough for you to feel incredibly flustered and hot. “D-Dabi?” Your voice small and fragile, much like your demeanor at the moment. “What?” His voice rumbles.

“D-Do we have too?” You whimper, Dabi roughly placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles on the bud. “Of course we do, bunny. You’re mine, right?” He asks, you nod your head up and down. You were technically his girlfriend now, right? “So why can’t I show my girl how much I love her?” Dabi raises an eyebrow. You look down before you mutter out an ‘ok’ of confirmation. You may be innocent but you still had basic sex-ed and knew where this was going.

Dabi lets a smirk crawl onto his face. He doesn’t even bother to take his patched pants all the way down, only enough to let his cock spring free. He truly couldn’t wait to ravish you, he’s been watching you for so long. Too long, in his opinion.

You let out a audible gulp, staring for moment before speaking up. It’s just so big. “How i-is that supposed to f-fit?” You whisper, yelping when Dabi grabs your hips to pull you closer to him. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about, doll. I can, and will, make it fit” Dabi smirks, cupping your cute face with one of his hands.

You whimper when you feel his warm tip press against your cunt. You know that sex is a normal thing in relationships but you just agreed to be his only a few minutes ago. “W-Wait-!” you begin before Dabi rough pushes into, you letting out a chocked sob and Dabi groaning at the sound and feeling. “S-Stop, it hurts�� you whisper, tears falling down your face. Looking down, you can see that only the tip is in.

“I know, sugar. Don’t worry, it’s supposed too” Dabi leans forward, sweetly kissing away the stray tears on your face. “Damn, so tight” he mutters under his breath. The sweet gesture having you relax slightly in his hold, only to stiffen back up when he begins pushing in more.

You let our more whimpers while Dabi quietly shushes you, gently rubbing your clit while he pushes farther into you. “How’s it feel, babygirl?” Dabi asks, loving the clouded look in your eyes. You think for a moment before answering quietly, “Feels... feels full”

“Well, I can guarantee that I can make you feel even more full, princess” Dabi chuckles as he begins moving inside of you. You throw your head back, your body quivering as you feel him repeatedly press against your cervix as he thrusts.

You keep letting out repeated pants and chocked moans while Dabi molests your body. “What? You like it when I fuck your virgin pussy, baby? How cute, sweets” He coos while you nod your head, back arching to press yourself against his body. You want him to hold you and he does.

“Feels good” You moan, tightly holding to the couch cushions beneath you for support. Dabi hums before letting out a low groan when he feels your walls squeeze around him. “Yeah, bunny?” He snickers, listening intently to the small gasps and shy moans coming from your plush lips. Looking down at your stomach, he can feel himself get more hard when he sees the bulge every time he thrusts.

More tears than before begin falling down your cheeks as Dabi rocks his hips into yours faster. The top of his cock roughly brushing your cervix over and over again. Your stomach begins to feel knotted as your crotch begins throbbing more than it already has been.

“No, st-stop, it feels weird, Dabi” you mutter, pushing against Dabi’s chest with your much smaller hands. “Fuck” Dabi growls, feeling you clamp down on him “Shh, this is what’s supposed to happen, angelface” He comforts. By the way your squeezing him, it’s clear that the ‘weird feeling’ is your incoming orgasm. Not that you knew.

“You’re about to cum, sweetheart. C’mon, gimme your first orgasm” Dabi encourages, aggressively pushing and rubbing your clit with his fingers. You wiggle your body trying to get even more friction than you were already getting. Dabi only keeps giving words of encouragement, “You can do it, doll. Be a good girl”.

It’s only a few seconds before your orgasm actually arrives. A white light bursting behind your eyes as you sob out in pleasure. Dabi only continues fucking you through your orgasm, chasing after his own high. Not that he didn’t enjoy yours. He was truly relishing in the fact that you had just given your stalker (not that you knew yet) your virginity and first orgasm.

After about a minute or two you finally slump against Dabi and the cushions, letting out continuous moans as he continues thrusting into you, now focused on his enjoyment instead of yours. “Dabi” you whine, feeling overly sensitive after such an experience. “Shh, I’ll be done in just a minute, princess” Dabi shushes, placing a scarred finger over your lips “You’re such a good girl, baby. Cumming for me and letting me use you” he praises, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead.

You let out a loud cry when you feel Dabi throb inside of you before hot ropes of cum spurt inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, you sure did now. Even though you did practically nothing, you still feel completely exhausted. And, it’s clear that Dabi knows this.

“I’m sleepy” you mutter, leaning forward and burying your face into Dabi’s shoulder. “I bet you do, babygirl. Why don’t I put you to bed?” He asks calmly. You let out a small ‘thank you’. Dabi smiles, you didn’t lose you cute manners even after getting fucked.

You sleepily murmur against Dabi’s shoulder, not fighting back when Dabi reaches down and picks you up bridal-style. A small bead of cum coming down your thighs. Dabi wishes he could go for a few more rounds but he knows he’ll have much more with you. Maybe even some sleepy sex tomorrow morning. He’ll have more rounds with you tomorrow, especially since you’re not going home any time soon.

Dabi knows that you’ll probably be upset when he locks you in the apartment tomorrow and chains you up. However, you probably shouldn’t gone home with a man who you went on two dates with and seemed to know you just a bit too well.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[cordria]

Rewrite an episode: The Ultimate Enemy

While there is a lot of good stuff in this episode, there have always been three things that bothered me:

1. Nobody would cheat on a career aptitude test. 

2. Clockwork doesn’t have totally clear reasoning for pulling Danny in to do this. We’ve fanon-ed things in, but the episode sort of pulls a catch-22 on this. I realize they use the plot hammer of the observants thinking Danny will become evil, but let’s put some actual thought into the reasoning here.

3. Danny has little actual responsibility for the creation of Dan. This cuts down on the angst - and also how the episode hits in a moral sense.

So I wanted to ‘fix it’ while keeping the large brush-strokes the same. Read on for my thoughts.

(Assume proper foreshadowing of these, were I rewriting the entire series.)

Story opens with Danny struggling with frustration and anger that has been building. Not to a personality-change level, but more to a ‘there’s realistic consequences for his actions and he’s frustrated with it’ level. He’s frustrated about his grades and detentions. He’s angry with Val for continuing to hunt him. He’s tired and getting angry with his parents for not listening to him.

An actual high-stakes test is coming up - let’s make it a placement test for whatever the IB/College in the Schools this universe has. In order to even have a chance at being accepted into the astronomy program Danny’s been eyeing, he has to get into the honors-level science and math classes in high school. Which means he has to pass this test.

He comes up with a plan to study. Sam and Tucker and Jazz try to help. Whenever he gets a chance to focus and study, it’s clear he has the knowledge to pass. He’s acing the questions, quick answers, etc. But the ghosts are on a rampage, and Danny’s study times always get cut short. 

Morning of the test arrives and Danny is a mess. He’s exhausted from dealing with a ghost all night, his brain feels like mush, and there’s zero chance of him passing this must-pass test. Frustrated at the ghosts and angry about the situation (because he would have passed easily without the ghosts!), he makes a choice. He sneaks into the school using his ghost powers and deliberately steals a copy of the test. Not the answers, because that’s stupid. None of the testing companies would give a school a copy of the answers even with a gun pointed at their heads.

So he brings the test home and looks up the answers before school starts. He waves it off by saying if his ghost powers were going to cause him to fail, he should be allowed to use his ghost powers to pass.

Deliberate choice to cheat.

Enter Box Lunch attacking the school before the test starts (which delays the test to the next day) so Danny ends up with the time medallion, and Skulk-Tech shows up which clues Danny-and-crew into what the time medallion does. Head over to Clockwork as per the actual episode, and Danny sees his future. Sees Dan and the destruction that was caused. The fact that Danny is choosing to cheat and using his frustration to manipulate things makes his comment about Dan looking cool more ominous. 

Again, Danny-and-crew end up in the future and run into Valerie. Sam and Tucker head home and Danny gets tossed into the ghost zone. There, he confronts the ghostly results of his anger. They attack him and he can’t fend them off. But he’s listening, and he hears how he destroyed their lives, and he feels bad. He wants to go back and fix things - but he needs them to leave him alone to do that. So he finds his Ghostly Wail.

Yada, yada, he ends up at future-Vlad’s place. Vlad does the recap - only it’s a bit different. Instead of some freak accident, Danny ended up continuing to allow his frustration and anger to make bad choices. Danny slowly twisted into a person that freaks even Vlad out. Angry all the time and willing to use his ghost powers to subdue whatever caused that anger.

Vlad chose to remove Danny’s ghost when Danny is in his early twenties, in a bid to prevent Danny from getting worse, and with the assumption that Phantom would disintegrate without a body holding it in place. Phantom didn’t, and freed from whatever humanity Danny’s mind had left, attacked Vlad. So we, again, get a human-Vlad and creepy-Danny/Vlad ghost combo known as Dan. Begin epic destruction of both worlds for the next several years.

Vlad removes the time medallion, Danny ends up back in their normal time. Dan has been behind the scene orchestrating some destruction, setting in motion a bid to utterly destroy Danny in the present time and continue to wreak his anger-filled havok on this new world. While he was gone, Maddie, Jack, Lancer, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker ended up learning that Danny cheated on the test. 

They corner Danny (not at the Nasty Burger - it never made any sense for them to meet at the Nasty Burger in the first place) and Danny starts to react with frustration and anger. It’s not his fault he’s not getting any sleep, and didn’t get time to study, and it’s not fair that all his future dreams rest on this one test. 

Dan attacks. The humans are kidnapped and locked up at the Nasty Burger. Danny follows, trying to fight Dan. Angry at Dan, Danny isn’t able to access his new power. It’s not until he lets go of that anger (Star Wars reference, right?), and is attacking to save his family from destruction, that he can finally use it to subdue Dan and lock him away in a Thermos.

Of course, Danny is too slow, as per the show, and Clockwork has to step in to prevent the death and destruction and ends up resetting the time stream. 

It’s the morning of the test, Danny is still exhausted and a mess, and he gets to make a new choice. No cheating. Instead he goes and talks to Lancer about how he’s not been sleeping and didn’t have the time to study like he needed, and Lancer lets him take the make-up test the following week.

Lesson learned - talk through your problems, get help when you need, and don’t wallow in anger and frustration.

Oh, and Dan comes up again in some later episode. Because why create such a wonderful example of angst and never use it again.

Anywho, that’s my thoughts on how I’d rewrite this one. :)

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

[soulwillower]

hot tub • eddie kaspbrak

(step brother eddie kaspbrak x reader smut)

requested: stepbrother eddie smut, if that makes you uncomfortable or you don’t want to write that then anythings okay! :)

warning: smut, unprotected sex, ,sex in a HOT TUB baby, he’s ur step bro, swearing obvs, unedited

[losers + reader are 18+ in this]

2.3k words

♡

it started as a joke. you swear, it really did.

it started because your friends would always tease you by telling you your new stepbrother was cute. they'd come around your house and flirt with him, tease him, and invite him to join you wherever you went. they’d always make comments about him, frustrating enough to piss you off.

but the more you started to think about it, the more you realized that yeah, eddie is very cute.

you liked how rude he was to your monster of a step mom and the attitude he gave your father was quite the spectacle. he was cute when he made food for you when your parents were out, when he gave you rides to school, and you really liked his boisterous group of friends.

he was a really sweet boy. he was very talkative but not in an overwhelming way, more in a way that either stems from anxiety or from the need to feel heard. and those were both things you could relate to.

and yeah, the joke was escalated when you noticed that eddie would blush when you wore clothes that you felt confident in. he’d stare at your arms, your breasts, your whole body - and one time, you totally caught him staring at your ass while you were doing yoga. that was pretty ironic, considering you hate yoga and you were just hoping he’d come downstairs. that was when you first realized it kind of wasn't a joke for you.

you probably should have found it more off-putting than you did, but you’d be lying when you said you wouldn’t stare longingly at his back when he would leave the shower or when he’d go with you in the hot tub you had.

that last part was especially hot, considering how utterly distraught sonia would get, going on and on about the chemicals in the water or some shit. he never cared though, rolling his eyes and giving the most sass you’d ever seen a person give. it was so hot.

so yeah, it had started as a joke but now you just really wanted to have sex with your step brother. you tried not to call him that in your head, though.

biting your lip, you slide off your bed and pull on your swimsuit, deciding a dip in the hot tub would certainly unwind you. your father had you working with him in the garage all day, and your shoulders were very sore so you just wanted to relax.

you walk down the hall to eddie's room and knock on his door with a sly grin. “come in.” he calls from the other side and you push open the door, smirking.

he blinks up at you from where he sits on his bed, “what’s up, y/n/n?” he asks innocently. his hair is mussed slightly, like he'd been playing with it, and he's wearing a hoodie and shorts even though it was summer. you feel your heart do a double take at the way he looks, his lips red and swollen like he’d just been chewing on them, his eyes wide and curious.

“i’m going to the tub. keep me company?” you plead, walking to sit on the edge of his bed. you place a hand on his thigh when he shakes his head. “nah, i’m busy.” he says.

you roll your eyes, grabbing his phone from his hands as he yelps at you. “yeah, busy. texting…” you scan his screen, “texting stanley uris about-" you laugh and look up at him as he snatches the phone back. "fuck off, y/n! so fucking nosy." he bites, his face turning red. you're disappointed that you didn't get to see what he was so embarrassed about, but you still laugh.

he’s got a scowl when he stands up, pulling you up and shoving you out of his room. you laugh, still surprised by his strength after all this time. something about it gave you butterflies, but you don’t linger on it too much because you hear eddie mumble, “you're so annoying, y/n. i’ll meet you out there.”

you grin in excitement all the way down to the the deck in the backyard where the hot tub sits. it doesn’t take eddie long to come out, clad in blue swim trunks and a white towel around his shoulders. he’s shirtless and you don’t hold back from running your eyes all over his bare torso, his decently muscular frame never ceasing to amaze you. "took you long enough." you joke, sitting up in the tub and moving as he climbs in. "whatever, you're lucky i'm doing this." he mutters, sliding into the warm water as his eyes flit to your chest where your bathing suit displays your body.

his eyes quickly jump up to yours to see if he'd been caught and he turns bright red when you're smirking at him. he rolls his eyes though, always on the defensive and always sassy. he stretches his legs out and tips his head back with a sigh. you watch him for a bit, trying to debate if what you're about to do will tip him over the edge.

fuck it, honestly.

"hey, eddie, do you think you could help me out?" you ask, sliding closer to him. he looks at you almost suspiciously, "s-sure?" he says, sounding very unsure. you smile at him sweetly, rubbing your neck. "i can't reach the part of my shoulder that's really sore." you say.

he raises his eyebrows, looking a little caught off guard. "what, you're always telling me to make sure i'm, like, loose and shit." you say, trying to be casual. he chokes out a cough, "i definitely don't say that."

you shake your head. "whatever, nevermind." you say, hiding your grin as you go to move away. his hand on your shoulder stops you from getting too far and he sighs. "fine, y/n. come here." he says, looking annoyed.

you grin, plopping yourself right on his lap. you hear him let out a grunt and you bite back a grin.

"definitely not what i meant, but okay." he mutters quietly enough that you barely hear it as his hands tentatively land on your shoulders. he starts to rub your back, the bubbles from the hot tub being the only noises around you.

it's quiet as his hands work into your back until eddie's thumb hits a tight spot on your shoulder and you can't help the moan that comes out of your lips. his hands stop and you use the moment as an excuse to readjust in his lap, slightly grinding down on his lap.

"y-y/n." he says lowly, but you turn your head to look back at him, trying to look as innocent as possible. "why'd you stop?" you ask him. the look he gives you almost makes you want to laugh.

he looks exasperated, tortured and nervous. you almost feel bad until you shift again and you feel him tense, his cock hardening slightly under you. your stomach flips in anticipation and he coughs awkwardly, averting his gaze down to the bubbles. his hands slowly resume to working on your tense muscles, but this time his touch is much lighter. "you can go harder, you know." you say and eddie lets out a shaky breath that you feel on your bare neck. "jesus christ." he whispers to himself.

he digs his fingers deeper, though, and obliging you and making you let out small gasps. feeling bold you let out a, "fuck, eddie." in a whimpering voice. eddie's hard under you and you wonder if he thinks you don't notice.

but it doesn't matter because he's suddenly groaning, like your words were too much for him. you smirk to yourself, turning to stand up from where he sits, his hands leaving your shoulders as you rise. "are you hard?" you ask, sending his a smile. his face turns bright red and he shakes his head, looking panicked. "y/n- no, i'm-s-i'm sorry, i-"

you shake your head as he rambles, climbing back onto him, this time straddling him. this indeed shuts him up as your hands fall onto his bare chest. he's staring up at you in bewilderment. "wh-what are you doing?" he stutters, his hands immediately betraying him and falling on your hips. you slowly grind yourself on him and you both let out hisses of pleasure. you needed him so bad. you lean in close to his ear.

"i want you." you whisper into the shell of his ear, your hands wrapping around his neck. thank god both of your parents were gone. he groans, turning his head to catch your lips with his.

kissing eddie was not how you imagined it would be. he knew what he was doing, one hand coming to cup your neck and pull you closer, the other hand staying on your hip. you slowly move against him, relishing in the feeling of his clothed cock rubbing your clit through the water.

you never imagined he'd be the one to initiate the kiss, but he's kissing you fervently and almost like he's afraid that you might get caught. and that makes it so much hotter.

you sneak your hand down to grab his, dragging it down under the bubbles and towards your clothed center, pulling away to whisper, "please, eds."

he moves his fingers gingerly over your swimsuit bottoms, rubbing you before swallowing your moan with his mouth. he slips fingers into your swimsuit and one finger swirls through you, feeling how wet you are.

after a little more pleading, he's slipping a finger inside you, watching you with a blush and wide eyes as you tip your head back with a moan. its warm, hot even, as his finger slides into you and the water rushes around your bodies, your chests both glistening with water droplets.

he presses kisses along your chest and neck, careful and not leaving marks, as much as you want him to. "eddie. more, please." you whimper quietly through your pleasure and he obliges, slipping another finger into you, his eyes not leaving your face as he thrusts them quicker, curling them slightly as you moan and whimper.

you drag your hand slowly under the waistband of his swim trunks and grasp the base of his cock, squeezing as you start to twist your wrist. he lets out a short moan, his head falling back against the edge of the tub. fuck, he's so fucking hot like this. his fingers keep moving inside you and you pull him back in for a kiss before looking at him, stopping your motions with your hand. he pulls his fingers out but leaves his thumb to trace idle circles over your clit, and you bite back a moan as you watch him.

"i want to be inside you." he says quietly, looking like he can't believe he's just said that. you almost cum right there, but instead you nod enthusiastically, "yes, please." you whimper, pulling aside your bottoms and rising slightly, your lower abdomen dripping as you rise out of the bubbles.

you line up with him and look at him for confirmation. his hands are on your sides, thumbs rubbing at your sides and he nods, biting his lip. he's so fucking cute.

so you sink slowly down onto him, gasping and burying your face into his neck as you slip all the way down onto him. he's panting, his hands squeezing your hips tightly. you give yourself time to breathe and  his hands start to move you slightly. you take the hint, kissing his neck as you start to rise up and down on him. you both groan at the feeling, the addition of how wrong this is making it that much hotter for the tow of you. "fuck," eddie mutters, thrusting slowly up into you. your knees are hurting from sitting on either side of his hips in the hot tub but you can't bring yourself to care  when he's looking at you like that.

you're meeting each other half-way now, moaning and whimpering into each other's mouths and your hands roam his body, feeling the slim muscles on his abdomen as his body moves with you. he's mostly quiet, staring at your body and you can't help but moan when he hits a spot in you that makes you shudder. "shit, y/n... i'm- i'm close." he mutters into your ear and you nod, mumbling, "me too."

he's pushing your hips down and lifting them back up now because you're feeling weak with pleasure and you jolt when his thumb falls to rub on your clit in figure eights.

his jaw is clenched, eyes shut as you bounce on him, clenching as you feel your peak coming. his hands slide over your back, pulling you impossibly close and the new angle hits you, triggering your release. you moan softly as waves of pleasure hit you, shaking and staying still, his cock buried inside you as he cums right after you.

you're both breathing heavily, arms shaking. you come down from your high and slowly lift yourself off of him while keeping your arms around his neck. "holy shit." you whisper, your eyes closing and your forehead falling against his neck. he tightens his arms around your middle and you smell chlorine, sex, and eddie.

"oh my god, y/n." he says through a sigh. you just laugh a bit, disbelieving that you've just hooked up with your step brother. and that you liked it so much.

"shit, do you know how unsanitary that was?" eddie says breathlessly, looking at you with a sly grin at what you’d just done.

you’re fucked for this kid.

[the-i-in-lie]

ok so i wanna do a little math thing to see just how big a googol is

i've gone through the entire wikipedia list on fall out boy's discography, because they're my special interest so why not use them to demonstrate. anyways, so, doing my best to include every track they've ever made once and only once, here's how much many songs they have (may be inaccurate in a few places, sorry in advance, also yes this will relevant):

14 from take this to your grave

18 from from under the cork tree

21 from infinity on high

20 from folie a deux

14 from save rock and roll

8 from pax am days

12 from american beauty/american psycho

11 from mania

22 from live in phoenix

7 from live in tokyo

3 from believers never die-greatest hits

2 from greatest hits: believers never die-volume two

13 from make america psycho again

26 from welcome to the new administration

3 from project rocket/fall out boy

9 from fall out boy's evening out with your girlfriend

5 from my heart will always be the b-side to my tongue

2 from america's suitehearts: remixed, retouched, rehabbed and retoxed

2 from spotify singles

3 from llamania

and 3 from lake effect kid

3+3+2+2+5+9+3+26+13+2+3+7+22+11+12+8+14+20+21+18+14 is 218

the best selling digital single of all time is shape of you by ed sheeran, with 41.5 million sales. now let's assume every single one of these 218 fall out boy tracks gets 41.5 million sales every. single. day. starting from zero sales because the multiple platinums are really insignificant, how long would it take for fall out boy to reach a googol total sales?

218x41.5 million is 9.047 billion

10^100/9.047 billion sales a day is 1.1053388x10^90, which is a lot, but an utterly meaningless number to most people. that's 3.0283254x10^87 years, also completely meaningless. the universe is 13.7 billion years old. so it would take 2.2104565x10^77 times the age of the universe. there are around 10^80 particles in the universe, so that 10^77 number is exactly 0.2210456527% of that.

tl;dr: if every single one of the 218 fall out boy songs sold as well as the best selling digital single of all time daily, 41.5 million sales, it would take the age of the universe times a number that is 0.22% of every single particle in the entire universe, 0.22% of all the stuff there is, for fall out boy to reach a googol total sales.

[octothorpetopus]

Afterglow

Richie refuses to cancel his shows. Partially because he does still need to get paid, but mostly because if he changes his life, if he lets the depression take him and pull him into the abyss... that means it's real. That means that Eddie's really gone and he's really not coming back.

He also refuses to cancel his TV appearances, which includes hosting the most popular late-night sketch comedy show in American history, and the one he got his start on as a cast member. Before he went to Derry, he had been excited for it. Before he went to Derry, he had been excited for a lot of things. Now, he couldn't even remember the sensation of excitement. He couldn't remember running ahead of the crowd to get to what he wanted. Now, there was only getting through it, and if he could do that, he'd survive.

The days seem to float by leading up to that Saturday night. He has meetings and rehearsals and publicity stunts and none of it matters. Not one bit. None of the other Losers call, but he didn't think they would. They're giving him space, and besides, they've all got their own things to figure out.

Saturday night comes, and Richie isn't nervous. He finds that since defeating It, nothing else can make him nervous. He stands backstage at the studio, hearing the familiar theme play and the cacophonous cheers of the audience. He's a little excited now. Not enough, but a little. He takes one last look in his dressing room mirror. His expression is tired, but when he plasters on a smile, he almost looks just like he used to. He has gotten a haircut, and he looks older. Less like a kid. He feels less like a kid. But that's not his job. His job is to make other people feel like kids.

"...along with your host, Richie Tozier!" The voiceover finishes just as Richie shakes himself from his stupor and pushes open the door of his dressing room, almost sprinting past producers and studio execs, taking a moment to compose himself before he walks onstage. There is a deafening roar and a flash of blinding light as he walks out, and it takes everything in him not to raise a hand to shield his eyes. He raises it to wave instead, flaunting a brilliant grin beneath his new glasses. He stops in the box on the middle of the stage and waits, breathing shakily, for the noise to stop. Eventually it does, and he smiles again.

"Hello, everyone. I'm so happy to be back here, and this time I'm hosting!" He whoops, letting the lights wash over him, wiping the slate clean. "No, really, it is great to be back. You know, since I left the show, I've gotten a lot of attention, which is great, and almost all of it's good, so..." He pumps his fist, timing it just right. He was not always so good at timing. "But even though I worked here for a long-ass time both in the cast and as a writer, people still tell me I'm just, like... not funny? Like, they'll come up to me after a show and just say, 'Hey, I didn't laugh at any of that. Can I still get a picture, though?' And a lot of my friends tell me that, too. I've got this one friend, and he..." Richie trails off, his eyes traveling up past the crowd and into the lights. They look just like the Deadlights, he notices. How did he not notice that earlier? In his near-excitement, he forgot all about his brief time in the Deadlights, and... and Eddie. He had been just about to mention Eddie. He snaps his eyes back out of the lights, blinking blurry purple circles away. He has to get back to the show. He can't break. He can't.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about my friend. He, um, literally never laughed at one of my jokes. We knew each other since we were eleven, and he didn't laugh at a single one." Richie has a memory of an eleven-year-old Eddie with a popsicle melting in his hand, offering one to Richie. "All my friends got kinda sick of my jokes back then. I wasn't nearly as funny then as I am now." He laughs self-indulgently, and then he is back in the lights, slipping away. He sees Eddie at eleven, at thirteen, at sixteen, at eighteen, at forty. He sees Eddie a hundred times, flashing before his eyes. He can't feel his mouth move, but it does, and he doesn't realize what he's done until he hears himself say, "And I loved him for it." That is all it takes to bring him back. He stumbles back, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone watching close in around him. He does not know what to do. He does not know what to say. And then, all at once, he does. And he says it.

"There's something I've needed to say for a very, very long time." Nobody speaks. Nobody moves. Richie straightens, closes his eyes, and takes a long, slow breath. When he speaks again, his voice is steady and even, and not quite his own. "And this wasn't planned, but I think this is maybe the best place to do it." His eyes open, and they are glowing gunmetal silver under the lights. "I'm gay." He is unsmiling, a word almost never used to describe him before Derry. The audience is utterly silent. They could be replaced by mannequins for all Richie knows. And then, there comes a burst of nervous laughter from somewhere to his left, someone who thinks maybe this is just a very odd set-up to a joke. But it wasn't. "I'm gay, and my best friend in the whole world, the one who never laughed at my jokes... he died. Last week. I was in love with him, and I never told him. That I loved him, or that I was even gay. And... when I say love, I don't mean I had a crush on him when we were kids and something got rekindled when we were adults. I mean I loved him. Really, truly loved him, in the way most people never even get, when we grew up together, now, and almost thirty years in between." Whispers begin to rise now, floating to Richie's ears, but he shuts them out. He is going now, snowballing, getting bigger and bigger and bigger. "I think that's why I'm telling you all now. Because he never got to hear it, and now, I owe it to him to tell someone. I loved him despite the fact that he never laughed at my jokes. I loved him because he never laughed at my jokes. I will always regret never saying anything." He looks down at the people in front of him now. Some are grumbling. Some are stunned. One or two, he notes, are even crying. He reaches up to adjust his glasses and realizes that he is too.

"I'm sorry, everyone," he says. "You didn't come here tonight to see a forty-year-old man cry over his first love. And you won't have to for much longer. I want to leave you with one piece of advice, something a very wise friend said to me. Be who you want to be. Be proud." He smiles, though he feels more like crying than ever, and walks off the stage the way he came to a totally stunned silence. He passes the same producers, the same studio execs, and ignores their cries of protest. He has said his piece. And perhaps his career as a comedian is over in this one blip. Would that really be the end of the world?

He exits out the back doors of the studio and ducks his head, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He passes a long line of people waiting to meet him, praying that they don't see him, and by some miracle, they don't. He thinks about hailing a cab, and then doesn't. It's a cool night, and he wants to walk.

This is Eddie's city, he realizes. No wonder he's been having visions and dreams of him ever since he arrived. How many times did Eddie walk these same sidewalks, bobbing and weaving to avoid accidental contact? How many times did he roll his eyes at the tourists, or hesitate before ordering bodega coffee, or step over a passed-out drunk on his way into his apartment?

He hardly makes it inside the doors of his hotel when he gets the first call. It is the first of many calls he will receive tonight, and the only one he will pick up. It's Bev. He settles into a leather armchair by the lobby fireplace and answers the phone.

"Hi, Bev-"

"Richie?" He can see her face just from her tone of voice and has to stifle a laugh at her wide eyes and open mouth. "Richie, I just saw the show-"

"Bev, slow down-"

"Why didn't you tell me? You could have told me-"

"Bev, please, go easy on him." This is Ben, muffled on the other line. Richie hears Beverly exhale, and when she speaks again, it's slower. Less frantic.

"Richie, that was... very brave of you."

"Thanks. It wasn't too disastrous?"

"No, we thought it was very... very you. And Richie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you." He blushes and feels another tear slide down his face.

"Thank you, Beverly. Do you think-"

"I think Eddie would be too. And, Rich, can I tell you something?"

"Shoot."

"...I don't know what it's worth, but I think Eddie loved you too." Richie chokes on his own breath and has to take a moment, coughing and pounding his chest. He has a vision of using a gray plastic HydrOx inhaler.

"It's worth everything, Bev. Look, I gotta go, but-"

"No worries, Richie. Call me if you need to talk."

"Bye, Rich."

"Bye, Haystack." The line clicks off. Richie leans back in his seat and looks around the lobby. It will not be long before the news of his dramatic exit becomes widespread. He doesn't dread the flood, though. He awaits it with open arms. "If Eds could see me now," he murmurs, warm relief settling in the pit of his stomach. And then, even quieter, with a genuine, melancholy smile: "Beep-beep, Richie."

[tinyarmedtrex]

G and reddie for the prompt thing

“God, you really are a terrible liar.”

“Boss wants to see you,” One of Eddie’s men called, interrupting Richie’s poker game with some of the others. They shouted at him while he stood, trying to ignore the permanent knot that was in his stomach, the one that grew every time Eddie called him back. The one that screamed at him that he’d been found out, that he’d slipped up and that someone finally put two and two together and figured out who the fuck he was. 

Richie was a detective, undercover in the biggest ring of car thieves in America. The group was infamous for jacking cars and disappearing, no one could figure out their hide out or what they did with the cars. All they knew was that it was run by one man- Eddie Kaspbrak.

 When his boss told him he was going in Richie had laughed in his face. There was no way he could pull off a hardened criminal. But then his boss had told him he was the only one who could tell a Jaguar from a Lamborghini in the whole squad. That, plus his few arrests as a minor, made him the best candidate. 

So Richie had agreed. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Once the people in charge told you to jump the only acceptable response was ‘how high?’ 

He’d gone undercover, keeping only his first name and changing everything else. It had taken months to even meet Eddie and his right hand man Stan, even longer to get them to trust him. 

But now they finally did. Richie was one of the crew, he’d helped them pull off several jobs, all while gathering evidence against them and reporting it all back to his chain of command. Richie was fucking good at his job. He’d be pulled out soon, told to leave them to rot in prison while he testified against them.

There was only one problem. 

“Richie,” Eddie called to him as Richie entered his shop. He was in his usual outfit of a black tank top and jeans, covered in grease from the car he was working on and, fuck, Richie had to stop himself from staring. But Eddie noticed, like he always did, and smiled at Richie, letting him know it was okay to look. 

As hard as he tried to deny it Richie had fallen for the guy, hook line and sinker. He’d been able to ignore his feelings until Eddie kissed him after he won his first race, pushing him against a car and pulling Richie’s lips down to his own. He was utterly fucked from then on. It had been the best kiss of his life and he’d known right then that he’d never wanted to kiss anyone else. 

“Hey Eds.” Richie said, walking over to look under the hood of the car that Eddie had been working on. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Eddie said as he bent down to look with Richie. “Pretty sweet huh? I think it’ll give me the edge in tomorrow’s race.” 

Richie nodded, barely looking at the car. Instead he was glancing at the other man, who was so close that Richie could smell his shampoo. He didn’t care about the car or the engine, he only cared about Eddie. 

Why was life so cruel? Richie hadn’t asked to fall for the criminal mastermind but everything, from Eddie’s little snort to how much he loved his crew drew Richie in. 

“Totally, you can finally kick Henry’s ass.” 

Eddie looked at him, shaking his head. “God, you really are a terrible liar.” 

Panic ran through Richie, fear that he’d finally been caught, been figured out. “Eds what- what do you mean?”

But then Eddie grabbed his shirt, tugging Richie’s lips to his own. No matter how much Richie’s brain screamed that he shouldn’t do this he could never stop, never resist. 

“You don’t even know what I fucking changed.” Eddie said as he pulled back, smirking up at Richie. “Do you?” 

Relief rushed through him. One day his luck was going to run out. Richie had no idea what he’d do then. He’d been putting off even thinking about it, knowing that he’d have to make a terrible choice. 

“No idea, I just know that I like the view.” He said, shaking his head and smiling at Eddie . 

The smaller man gave him the middle finger then walked over to his fridge, grabbing them each beers. “You know after I win tomorrow I’ll have enough to leave this place, leave Stan in charge.” He walked back, handing Richie a beer and watching his reaction. “Maybe you and I can find a small island where clothes are optional.”

Richie took a long drink before replying. “Really? You gonna go straight Eds?”

“Mm,” Eddie hummed as he draped an arm over Richie. “I wouldn’t say straight.” He kissed Richie’s neck. “But maybe I’ll break a fewer laws. Or only the really dumb ones.” 

Richie put his beer down, using both hands to hold Eddie as they kissed. They only drew back when someone called for Eddie from the other room.

“Fuckers.” Eddie swore, turning to glare at the voice. “Can’t figure out anything for themselves.”  He shook his head. “I’m gonna shower then me and you? Maybe pizza and a movie?”

Richie nodded, kissing Eddie once more. “I’d love that,”

Eddie kissed him back then left, yelling at whoever had interrupted them. Once he was gone Richie checked his phone and saw he had a message from his boss. As he read it Richie could practically see his two worlds come crashing together and he knew that there was now good way out of this.

‘We move tomorrow, be ready’

@spastuetheobsessedphylosopher @chaotickaspbrak @wheezyeds  @constantreaderfool @purplepoisonedgem  @queen-sock  @pink-psychic @bowersgangvslosersclub @jem-carstairs-is-perfection  @reddie-to-cryy @moonlightrichie  @eduardoandale @anellope @inthebreadbinwrites @sparklingrainbowdragon @madi-personal @K-froggit @lifesucksheres20bucks @appojoos @upsidedownlosers @thorn-harvester-ven @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @andaleduardo @xandertheundead @state-of-longing @fandomgirllover @adhdtrashmouth @thundercatseddie @rielysian @uppperteeeth @s-s-georgie @for-peanutbutter @tobobeebub @emmadevr @edstozler @s-onora @notmyspaghetti @twoidiotsinl0ve @spirited-marvel @lover-mouth  @roobarrtrashmouth @njess04 @wilding-throught-thehallways @star-gore @gloire-celeste @stansbooty @reddieobsessed @myeverythingisyourstruly onlykatelyn @onlykatelyn

[talesofpanem]

Tattoo Fixers : Panem

Author: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Rating: T

Summary: Katniss needs someone to fix a bad tattoo.

AN: Deepest, deepest thanks to the amazing @xerxia31 who beta-ed this piece.

Even though I liked the prompt, it took me times to find the idea for this story - until I watched my TV, which prompted an episode of Tattoo Fixers - London. Maybe some of you from the EuroClub know about it ? Anyways, here is my take at this week’s prompt.

Hope you have fun.

_____________

She would be fascinated by the ballet of assistants running around the shop if she wasn’t embarrassed to be sitting there, being prepped by a team of make-up artists and a hairdresser. 

Just looking at the people putting mascara on her eyebrows or trying to tame her hair was a spectacle in itself, with their tattoos poking out from under every bit of clothing, along with piercings or blue hair. 

Katniss felt utterly out of place, waiting for her turn to appear on a television show she didn’t even want to go on. Alas, it was the only free way to fix something she had regretted since she had woken up after a particularly drunken night with her cousin Gale.

It was all Gale’s fault. It had been the day of her father’ funeral, the day after Gale buried his own. After the ceremony, after everyone had gone home, Gale had taken Katniss out. She hadn’t asked, just silently nodded when he had grabbed the keys of his father’s old pickup, heading out to their favorite spot in town, to get drunk.

In the hopes they could forget the void left by their fathers.

They had spent hours in that bar, drinking until they couldn’t drink anymore, until everything faded into blackness. The next morning, however, they’d woken up together in the bed of the pickup truck, each sporting the mother of all hangovers and a lovely souvenir of their evening

Apparently, they had somehow found their way to a tattoo parlor.

Since that night, Gale had sported a wonderful peacock on his biceps, which he still found funny all these  years later.

Katniss wasn’t as lucky. She all but hated the cartoonish, badly drawn bow and arrow on the inside of her forearm. The only good thing about it was its size - tiny, so a wristband could cover it easily. She took to wearing one everyday. Solid. In leather.

Arrow. Her father’s name, had been inked forever on her arm. She would have loved it if she had been able to choose the drawing properly, instead of having been branded with a cupid-ike tattoo design.

Hence her presence on the set of Tattoo Fixers, a reality show where talented tattoo artists helped people cover up their tattoo disasters with gorgeous works of inked art. 

Removing the tattoo was way too expensive for her bank account. But Prim had convinced her to share her story with all the whole country, risking the humiliation of being branded as a drunk crazy woman on cable TV.

Wonderful.

“Katniss? You’re on in five,” a young assistant told her, making the team of preppers buzz around her like there was a breach in a beehive. One man, Flavius she thought his name was, because why not, was complaining about the state of her nails, how chipped they were, how he couldn’t do miracles, how he couldn’t find time to fit in a manicure in the remaining five minutes.

“I’m a botanist. It would be destroyed by tomorrow anyway.” She shrugged the thought away, almost taking pleasure in the disgusted look on his face. Take that, Flavius.

When the assistant came back, all smiles and happy mood, Katniss followed her out of the parlor and onto the street. Just like any other participant, she would have to walk to the shop, entering as if she was a totally random client.

Bull.Shit.

The only random part was which tattoo artist she would choose. At least she would be surprised by their drawings.

This was staged TV, reality-TV. She usually couldn’t stand it. 

She sighed, taking her place ion the street.

“Remember, start walking when the director shouts ‘Action!’” 

Katniss resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

She started walking as casually as possible when she was told to, entering the shop as naturally as she could manage, trying to avoid laughing at the host’s attire of the day. Nobody ever bothered telling Caesar Flickerman that he might be colorblind. Today, he was mixing  a flashy orange shirt with beautiful purple bermuda shorts. No doubt the episode would air in summer.

“Here is our next client!” Caesar sounded a little too enthusiastic at her entrance into the parlor. “What’s your name, darling?” He took her hand, helping her sit on the couch facing the one where the three tattoo artists were sitting.

She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice didn’t falter. 

As she explained why she was there, Katniss took a good look at the three people in front of her, mentally thanking Prim for the briefing she’d given Katniss before she left that morning.

There was the woman, Jo, whose body was almost fully covered in tattoos and piercings. Only her face remained pristine, making her red hair stand out. She was sitting next to Finnick, who as the star tattooist of the program was sitting between his two colleagues. Finnick’s body was a work of art. Prim had swooned over it for much too long when she had briefed her sister, showing Katniss pictures of the man who appeared to live his life shirtless. Katniss had then been privy to the numerous tattoos that adorned his back, a chinese setting, dragon included. 

She had seen several shots of him, of his so perfect body that made women of all ages swoon over him. Of course, Katniss was well aware of the dispatch of muscles, the Greek-god physique Finnick had, and fully expecting to be struck with lust as soon as she laid eyes on him in person. Yet nothing happened.

Nothing. At. All.

She was much more intrigued by the third tattooist, sitting next to Finnick. If Jo was a picture of the bad girl, Finnick the perfection, this third person was something else. He screamed “normal”, standing out from the two others, in Katniss’ opinion. Maybe it was because she couldn’t see a single tattoo on him, not even the required tribal band around his biceps.

There was something about his blue eyes, about his messy blond air that made her look at him more than the two others. Something that attracted her.

“This is Peeta, but we call him Peet. He’s the newcomer as Cato decided he needed a year off,” Finnick said and Peeta smiled. “So, how do you want us to cover the tattoo? Any specific request?”

“Well, nothing arrow-esque, or cupid-like. I’d like something that’s more inspired by nature,” she said. She just wanted the stupid bow and arrow to be covered.

Both Finnick and Jo grabbed their sketchbooks and started to draw. But she could feel Peeta’s eyes on her, lingering for a few seconds before he in turn, dived in.

“Well, tell us about you, Kathy?” Caesar said,making idle conversation to allow the tattooists time to finish their drawings.

“It’s Katniss, actually. Nothing thrilling, I’m a botanist and I live with my sister, Primrose.”

“Oh, that’s nice, she’s named for a flower!”

Katniss couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She knew this part would be cut because nobody really cared about the chit chat between a host and someone they would forget as soon as she left the office. 

“Just like I am, it’s kind of a family tradition.”

“And you’re a florist! Isn’t it amazing.”

“I’m a botanist, but not far away.”

She was already over her talk with the host. A talk she was quite sure only lasted a few minutes, still felt like two long days. 

“We’re ready, Kitty Kat. Here’s my drawing.” Jo handed over her sketchbook, on which a beautiful cat was displayed. With red fun, he would have been a striking copy of her sister’s cat, Buttercup, aka the bane of her existence. “You strike me as independent and very focused, hence, the cat.”

“It’s beautiful, Jo, thank you,” Katniss said, as she took in the beautiful shape of the cat’s ear, the detailed eyes. The woman had talent.

“I went for something more… natural,” Finnick said. “ I hope you like it!” He handed her his sketchbook, then leaned back on the couch, taking a sugarcube out of his pocket before popping it in his mouth.

On the page in front of her was a display of gorgeous intertwining orchid flowers.

 “I can do them in different shades, like a watercolor painting, you know?” Finnick added, as Katniss stared in awe.

“It’s lovely, wow, I wasn’t expecting that, Finnick.” Between the two drawings, her choice was made. She wasn’t even sure Peeta would be able to compete.

“She’ll pick mine, guys, I’m ready to bet ten bucks!” Finnick lifted his arms in victory. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big one, right?” Katniss asked, hoping his answer would be a no.

“It can be whatever you desire, sweetheart.” Finnick’s voice was sugary, and his green eyes sparkled as he winked at her.

Which made Katniss roll her eyes.

“Well, Finnick, this one’s immune to your charms.” Peeta’s voice, amused, chimed in. “Katniss, here is my take for your tattoo.”

She put down Finnick’s sketchbook to take Peeta’s. There were no words to describe her feelings when she looked down at the drawing on the paper. She had expected something somewhere between Jo and Finnick’s like an animal in nature, or just a drawing of a beach, absolutely not what she had before her eyes.

Peeta had drawn a wave.

A single, simple wave.

Yet, the closer she looked, the more details she could see. The wave was made entirely of flowers.

Primroses and katniss were braided together with such precision, with such attention, it was mesmerizing.

From two feet away the drawing looked like a wave.

But to her, for the closer her eyes got, it was a flower wall.

She opened her mouth to talk, to express how incredible she found the drawing.

No words came out.

She had to take a deep breath before gathering her thoughts before she was able to talk again.

“This. This is what I want.” 

“Shall we go, then?” Peeta asked, rising from the couch.

She nodded her agreement before following him to the back.

She was glad the cameras didn’t filming the whole process. They were busy filming other segments with other “clients”. 

“What prompted you to draw this? I mean I had no idea that was what I wanted until you showed me…” she asked.

“Your talk with Caesar. You told him you were a botanist, that it was a tradition to have flower names in your family. So I checked what Katniss was. It came up with sagit-something…”

“Sagittaria sagittifolia.,” she said under her breath.

He laughed, as he charged his machine with ink.

“Yes, that. You said you live with your sister, and I remembered you told us you got this awful thing after a funeral so I added one and one… You must have a pretty close relationship with your sister.”

“Yeah, we do …..” She was watching him come closer with his machine. She had a question, though. “How do I know you can tattoo? I mean, you don’t even have any of your own?”

“I do have one tattoo, but it’s hidden. I’m not as extrovert as Finn and Jo.”

“I noticed.. Could I see it ?”

“Well, it would involve you seeing me at least half naked… “

She blushed. “Oh, my, sorry…”

“No need to apologize. I did Finn’s dragon, and can show you pictures of previous works I’ve done,  if you need references …. “

“It’s okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, a gentle, kind, warm smile at her words.

As soon as he started working on her forearm the cameras returned. He explained the steps he was taking, using the shape of the bow for the wave, the body of the arrow to line up the braids of flowers.

“It’s done. You can look.” His voice took her by surprise.  She looked down, finding herself at a loss for words, again.

There was no way she would hide this one under a wristband.

After the mandatory shots for the TV, Peeta was wrapping her arm in cello, when he asked.

“I kinda won twenty bucks earlier, thanks to you. Want to share it with a tea?”

“No,” she answered. As his face fell, she added, “But I’d love a hot chocolate with whipped cream, if you know a place.”

He knew a place.

(Turned out he had a tree of life tattoo along his ribcage. She could spend hours tracing it with her fingers. Or her tongue.)

[chuffyfan87]

Priorities. Part 1a

Cowritten with @fairheads. Set towards the end of series 32. What might have happened if the writers had let Chuffy talk through their issues like the adults they are...

-x-

Duffy sighed as she scraped the plate of cold food into the bin. He'd sworn he'd be home by 8pm. It was now almost 10pm. She understood that it would take a bit of time for Charlie to get back into the swing of being nursing manager again but it was getting beyond a joke! He hadn't finished a shift on time in almost two months and seemed determined to put them on opposing shift patterns so they barely saw each other. She was beginning to feel like his wife in name only.

Charlie scratched his head, looking at the clock he realised he’d missed dinner again. He sighed, he hadn’t meant to let her down but had been stuck late at the department again. He picked up his phone to call her.

She heard the phone ring but ignored it, turning the TV up until she heard it click over to the answer machine.

“Duffy? Duffy? I’m sorry love. I should be home in half an hour. I... I’ll see you then.” Charlie left a voice mail, wondering if she had purposely not answered.

"I'll believe that when I see it!" She muttered darkly from the sofa as she heard him hang up.

Charlie made it home just before 11pm, later than he said. He was tired and hungry after a long day at the ED. Opening the door, he listened for a moment trying to figure out whether Duffy was still up watching tv or whether she’d gone to bed. He’d hoped the former was the case, he felt like he hadn’t seen her properly in weeks.

The sound of the TV blaring out floated through from the lounge.

Standing in the doorway, he lent against it. “Hey...” He greeted her softly. She was curled up at one end of the sofa, covered in a blanket, her head resting on her arm.

"I see you remembered where you live..." She muttered, not turning to face him.

He was surprised by her cutting remark. “I’m sorry love.” There wasn’t much else he could say.

"You're always sorry. Doesn't change anything though does it?"

“No.” He sighed, internally berating himself. He didn’t want to fight with her, he needed her support but she needed him too and he wasn’t there. Taking his coat off, he walked through to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and opening the fridge.

"If you're looking for your dinner it's in the bin." She called through from the lounge.

He was again surprised by her unkindness, it wasn’t like her. He didn’t respond, instead he grabbed some bread and popped it into the toaster. “Can I get you a cuppa?” He shouted through.

"I'm on the early shift tomorrow, remember?"

Charlie had forgotten, his head was all over the place. “So no tea?” He confirmed with her.

The only response he got was a snort of derision.

Charlie sat down at the kitchen table with his toast and tea, he’d had the shift from hell and now his home was a war zone to top it off.

Duffy remained on the sofa, staring at the TV but not taking any of it in. If she was honest she hadn't really been paying attention since she'd turned it on earlier that evening.

Charlie finished his supper. How did they get to this, sitting in separate rooms? Never any time to properly speak? It worried him.

Hearing Charlie place his plate in the dishwasher, Duffy turned off the TV and prepared to head upstairs to bed.

Charlie turned and almost literally bumped into her in the hallway. “Sorry,” He apologised. “You off to bed?”

"Its almost midnight and I have to be up at 5.30am, what do you think?"

Charlie swallowed his words and looked down at his feet. “I thought we might have some time to talk...”

"Maybe you should have thought about that three hours ago." She retorted.

“It was a bad shift, I tried really hard to get back love.”

"Funny how I can always make it home on time but you can't..."

Charlie sighed and reached for her hand but she pulled away.

"I'm going to bed." She turned and began to head up the stairs.

“Duffy...” He tried, rubbing his neck. “Please, love...” He tried again, but she was gone.

He grimaced as their bedroom door was slammed shut.

Charlie sat on the sofa alone, he was finding his new role difficult and he found it impossible to time manage effectively. He wrapped himself in the blanket, it smelled like her.

Duffy sat on their bed feeling utterly ridiculous for sulking like a child but she'd had enough.

Neither one of them moved, they were both stuck in their private hell, above and below each other.

After several minutes had passed, Duffy stood up from the bed and quickly got undressed, throwing on an old pair of pjs before climbing under the duvet.

Charlie fell asleep on the sofa, waking up an hour or so later, cold and stiff. He climbed up the stairs, unsure whether he should sleep in the spare room or not.

He tentatively pushed open the door to their bedroom. Duffy was curled up under the duvet, turned away from the door.

His bedside lamp was on and a fresh glass of water sat beside it along with his heart medication.

Charlie smiled when he saw what she’d done. It was something she’d done every night since they’d been together, but he hadn’t expected her to bother tonight - she was so cross with him. He got undressed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake her. Swallowing his tablets, he carefully got into bed and turned the light off.

Staring at the wall in the darkness she waited to see what he planned to do next, if he was serious about wanting to talk.

Charlie tried not to move at all so he wouldn’t wake her, she’d been pretty clear about her early shift and he didn’t want to piss her off any more!

After a few minutes she couldn't help but sneeze, giving away the fact that she was indeed still awake.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered, rolling over to face her.

"Hmm..."

He reached for her hand.

She didn't pull away from his touch, instead just leaving her hand resting limply on the bed.

It was unlike her to be so unresponsive. “Want to talk?” He tried.

"Unless that talk includes you saying that you're sorry for being a totally crap husband recently and intend to do much better and actually mean it then no."

“Duffy...” He tried to get her to look at him.

"I'm starting to feel like I saw more of you when I lived on the other side of the bloody world!" She continued, still not rolling over to face him.

“Please turn over...” He urged, placing his hand on her hip.

She huffed and finally rolled over.

Charlie tenderly brushed her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I’m so sorry Duffy, I’ve got this all wrong.”

"So you get that you have to actually put effort in to make a marriage work then?"

“I don’t want to lose you.” He stumbled over his words.

"I don't want to be taken for granted." She sighed.

“I thought I could do the job easily, thought it would be like putting on old slippers but everything’s taking me so much time. Tonight I really tried to get home in time to have dinner with you but it just seemed to be one thing after another. I didn’t mean to not have time for you. I’ve been really shit haven’t I?”

"I understand that it'll take you time to get back into the swing with the nursing manager job but why put us on opposing shifts? It's like you don't want to spend time with me." She sighed.

"The idea was that it would give us more time together." He sighed, “I guess I got it all wrong... I’ve been such an idiot.” He seemed genuinely remorseful.

"We promised each other that things would be different."

“I know and I want to work on us. I can do better. Can I try and make it up to you?”

"Depends what you had in mind."

“Anything... I’m sorry for being a totally crap husband recently and I intend to do much better and I actually mean it.” He echoed her earlier words.

"I understand your work is important to you, it's important to me too, but you need to remember that you have a life outside of that hospital."

“A very good life with a very wonderful woman...”

"Who doesn't appreciate being second best."

“Can you forgive me? Let me make it up to you?”

"You can try..."

“I’ll try to make sure I get home earlier and try to swap so we’re on same shift for a start. I want to prove to you that you’re the most important thing to me, can I do that?”

"Its a good start."

“How else I can I make it up to you?”

"You keep saying I'm special to you but actions speak louder than words."

“Point taken. Can I kiss you?”

"I suppose..." A small smile was slowly creeping onto her face.

He held her cheek, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I’ve missed you.” He whispered, kissing her again.

"I've missed you too. This bed is awful cold without you."

Charlie nodded, “I know and for a moment earlier I thought I should go sleep in the spare room but then I saw you’d put my meds and water out and I thought what am I playing at? I have this beautiful woman who has the biggest heart who still loves me even though I’ve been a complete idiot. And...” He was still rambling, when she kissed him.

"You are a complete idiot but you're my idiot."

“I’m glad you still think so... I’m really sorry about dinner, I was going to pick us up some wine and I’d planned having a lovely evening with you, showing you that you are important to me and then everything that could happen, happened and the clock was just ticking. I felt awful.”

"I'm sorry I threw your dinner away."

“I don’t blame you, it’s not like it’s the first time this week is it..?”

"Still... It was quite childish of me. I shouldn't be throwing temper tantrums like that at my age." She blushed.

“I think I deserved it. Thank you for talking to me.”

"I don't like going to sleep on an argument."

“It didn’t look like you were getting much sleep. It’s your shift soon though...”

"I fell asleep on the sofa earlier waiting for you to arrive home and its thrown me off."

“Wide awake now? Did you worry I wasn’t going to come back at all?”

"A couple of times you haven't."

“I know... I’m not proud of that. The thought of you all on your own here, when I should be with you...”

"I'm used to being on my own but I never thought you'd treat me like that."

Charlie felt ashamed of his behaviour. “Me neither...” He mumbled.

"You were there through it all, saw the crap I went through..." She sighed.

He nodded, “I know...” He ran his hands through his hair, he was uncomfortable with the guilt he felt.

There was an awkward silence between them for several minutes. "How did we end up in such a mess?" Duffy sighed, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know but it’s all my fault.”

"How about we both try harder? Both at work and at home."

Charlie nodded. “I might need a hand at work...”

"I've been waiting for you to ask."

“It’s all got a bit on top of me. I could do with some help...”

"So what do you say..?" She teased.

“I’ll try harder, I promise.” He smiled at her.

"A simple 'please will you help me?' would have sufficed."

“I think I can cope and then it all becomes a bit much and I’m not very good at asking for help. Please will you help me?”

"Yes I will help you, you silly, stubborn old man!" She chuckled softly.

“I’d appreciate that. And please will you tell if I’m getting this wrong again? You are the most important thing to me, I don’t want to upset you."

"OK. I will try."

“Time for a cuddle?” He asked.

"I suppose you've clawed your way far enough back into my good books..." She smiled.

He smiled, “I’m trying!”

"Very trying at times..."

He laughed, “Come here you... We haven’t had a hug in ages.”

She sighed contentedly as she shuffled over and he wrapped his arms around her.

He kissed her head as he held her in his arms. “I love you Mrs Fairhead and I’m really am very sorry.”

"It still makes my heart skip when you call me that." She admitted shyly.

“Mine too, which is why I know I’ve been a bloody idiot and I need to make it up to you.”

"Well you talk a good talk, now you've just got to back it up by walking the walk."

“I will. You should probably get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

"Yeh, sleep deprevation and twelve hour shifts don't mix well..." She yawned.

“Tell me about it! Night darling.”

Despite it only being a few hours til she had to get up for work Duffy slept better than she had in weeks. When her alarm woke her she was surprised to find Charlie also awake and a tray of breakfast waiting on the bedside table.

“Morning beautiful,” He smiled, as she stretched and groaned.

"What are you doing up?" She queried.

“I wanted to make you some breakfast before your shift?”

She tilted her head. "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?" She giggled.