#edwin telling edwin? lmao

[technically-human]

Part two of the reverse verse is here! The reverse boys meet the original boys. They're not really getting along as well as I had hoped...

Again, this was a commission for @i-am-as-normal-as-you-are and they asked for angst/funny vibes... I think it's mostly just angst though. Oh, well...

Part one

[eggy-the-boy]

Something something Charles giving himself the brawn label and Edwin the brains label. Something something Edwin always compliments Charles when he figures something out. Calling him a genius and emphasizes that Charles is more than just the fighter of the two. Something something these two make my brain rot.

[mirror-blue-shite]

edwin @ charles probably

[babyseraphim]

Really thinking about the emotional intricacies and impact of Edwin and Charles' trauma this evening.

Growing up in an abusive household, Charles would have needed to be hyper aware of his father's moods and able to read any emotions immediately in order to protect himself. He'd have to be able to control his own emotions as well, as any sort of perceived disrespect would have likely resulted in punishment.

That kind of upbringing breeds people that habitually read the emotions of people around them, causing them to be extremely aware of any small emotional shift (aka hypervigilence). Many people who are emotionally hypervigilent feel that its their responsibility to defuse tension, usually due to a subconscious feeling of danger. The only way they know how to feel safe is when everyone is happy, and they often shoulder that responsibility so that they can feel in control of the situation.

(That's not to say that these are bad, controlling people. These people are often the most kindhearted, gentle people in the world. However, the point still stands that the core of these actions is a fear of being harmed.)

However, when a person shoulders that amount of responsibility for others' emotions, resentment and anger can start to grow. When left unchecked, it can explode out in volatile ways due to being repressed for so long.

Edwin, on the other hand, was tortured in an environment where emotions didn't matter. We don't know much about his upbringing yet, but when he was in Hell, it didn't matter if he was angry, or scared, or sad. He could express those emotions all he wanted, but it wouldn't have made any difference. There were no emotions to be perceived: it was him, and the spider. How he felt about the situation didn't matter, and how the spider felt didn't matter. He simply had to get away, and any strong emotions he felt would likely be a hinderance.

Being trapped in that kind of situation for that length of time is extremely likely to cause a disconnect from one's emotions due to a permanent state of fight or flight (aka dissociation). Edwin's constant fight or flight responses can be seen time and time again within his character: his 'fight' state shown by his constant need to insult, bicker, and defend himself verbally, and his ‘flight’ state shown by his constant running in Hell, as well as his continuous need to keep solving cases. We have also seen him in a 'freeze' state while he was in Hell, which could likely be attributed to learned helplessness.

My poor boys. Someone get them a ghost therapist.

[lesbicosmos]

dead boy detectives characters as florence+the machine songs <33

crystal

shake it out

which witch

niko

what the water gave me

no choir

edwin

never let me go

seven devils

charles

bird song

heartlines

hardest of hearts

monty

cosmic love

[dailypearldoodles]

Can I get a pearlie with a C4 expression? I just think that she should heart eyes <3

Day 493

What she lookin at?

Decided to throw in a hewwo palette because i wanted some colors :D

[read-write-thrive]

Hi, absolutely no pressure but I saw your post mentioning your undergraduate thesis and it sounds very interesting! What did you do it on?

hi!! fair question lol, I never figured out a succinct way to phrase it but it was on the emergence of a queer* male** culture in nineteenth century UK urban centres. I specifically studied the spatial, linguistic, and non-verbal communication between AMAB individuals who had sex with other AMAB individuals (which is horribly not trans inclusive and I hated that but the history department/professors I was writing for weren’t well versed in historical trans/queer theory and pushed me away from delving into any of that). it was a lot of fun to get into what parks were best for cruising, what terms they used to identify one another vs what society put onto them, and I even got to talk a bit about hand signals and postures and such that would’ve worked as flagging!!

truth be told the paper has a lot of potential that I did not meet and don’t really have the capability to—I wrote the first submission of it while abroad in the UK and that did well, but when I wanted to make it better and resubmit for honors I lacked further research and the patience for the historiography needed to actually improve it. I also mentioned somewhere around here that I’m currently working on my masters but now I’m even further from the UK so I think I’ll have to pivot completely :/

I’m happy to talk about any/all of it if you’re interested, and thank you for asking!! I haven’t gotten many (any?) non-spam asks and I do so love talking about queer history lol

[asterdeer]

lucy's va is like. criminally undervalued imho. i'll never not feel secondhand devastation at the way she delivers "maybe you're right, connie." "i am?" "yeah. it probably is none of your business. bye" LIKE. not cruelly not cattily not over the top or anything just. complete deadpan. thoughtful, even. utterly obliterating

[alltimefail]

Okay I'm on my 5th rewatch of Dead Boy Detectives and I have to know if anyone else finds it funny (and a little bit maddening) that in episode 6 when Monty needs help finding his fake ghost friend Gladys it's CHARLES who dismisses him immediately?

Like... they go so far as to make a point of showing us multiple reactions to his dismissal. First Crystal, who has no reason to believe the boys will turn down Monty's case due to Edwin's assumed crush and Charles' people-pleasing nature. She agrees to the case quickly because it's the perfect distraction for the boys and will buy her time to get her powers back... but then, to her shock, Charles turns down the case!! Charles who is all about gentleness and "Bedside manner," who cares deeply about being a "Good guy" and about being liked, the guy plagued with worry about how he is perceived by others and who never wants to disappoint anyone, the guy who is suuuuuper sentimental, protective, has a strong sense of justice, and is notably dedicated to protecting his friends and helping the people he cares about at quite literally any cost.

Even Monty is surprised, too!! It's clear that Monty anticipates Edwin's lingering guilt and old-fashioned sensibilities regarding decorum and conflict avoidance to be enough motivation for him to take on the case, that Edwin would agree just to avoid adding any more animosity or awkward tension to an already delicate situation. Monty had to know, going in, that he really only had to get through to Charles (who he admittedly had neglected in the past and been cold to in previous interactions due to his crush on Edwin). Considering Charles' easy-going nature, this should have been quite easy as Edwin is a much harder person to win over, whereas Charles is quick to see the good in others!! That's why he compliments Charles (despite the sentiment being disingenuous) and contrives a story that, knowing what we all know about the boys by this point, should have struck an emotional chord for Charles especially... BUT IT DOESN'T which is like... very weird!!! It's normal for Edwin to act logically, to put facts over feelings, to "play hardball" as Charles puts it in episode 1. But Charles is emotional, he's compassionate, he's impulsive more times than not, so this is notably weird behavior for Charles!!

BUT THEN it gets even better because Charles is immediately like, "Edwin, you know what I'm saying, right?" He throws the ball to Edwin, expecting Edwin to agree with him - a reasonable expectation as, again, Edwin is the logical one - but then Edwin doesn't agree, he sides with the girls instead and takes on the case for, what we can only assume is an unknown/indiscernible reason to Charles. (Remember, Charles has no clue that Edwin already turned Monty down, and we know he thinks that Edwin has a little crush on Monty at this point as well!!) Charles doesn't push the issue, but it's clear he's not particularly happy... it's hard to nail down what exactly he's feeling (we can't read his mind) but he's clearly feeling some type of way. You can tell by his silence, by the tense, tight-jaw frown and his eyes wandering to the floor that he must have been expecting a different outcome. It felt like he asked Edwin in a way that felt more like he was testing something, like he was hoping for a certain outcome...but WHY???

Well, let's acknowledge the context in which this strange interaction happens. In the same episode we see Charles:

Note how weird/off everyone is behaving specifically after Edwin is awkward with Monty on the roof.

Checking Edwin out, up and down, after Niko tells him he looks good (This is an irrefutable conclusion as he openly comments on Edwin's change of clothes later, so like... he noticed lmao)

Acting colder than he previously has to Monty by the time they get to the tall forest, despite the possibility that Monty may have lost his friend who comforted him after his own near-death experience. (This happens after Edwin agrees to take on the case, btw. Even when Crystal points out that there's an issue between Monty and Edwin, Charles makes no move to inquire, to "fix" it, or to be especially gentle as he normally might.)

Boldly and instinctively reach for Edwin's hand while making pointed, emotional eye contact as a "last act" during their near "death" experience.

And that's not even everything!!! So like... yeah, sure, it could be nothing. It could mean nothing. Allll of this could just be coincidental. Maybe Charles was being logical and responsible for once, maybe he really did just feel like they were already too busy to take on an extra case.

OR, more likely in my personal opinion, HE WAS JEALOUS AS FUCK!!! We know, based on their interaction at the end of the episode, that Charles has always had at least some idea that Edwin is not straight. We know that everyone is convinced Edwin has a crush on Monty. We know that Charles, after meeting Monty for the first time, has an expression of disdain on his face while watching Monty and Edwin interact (when Monty is showing Edwin his astrology chart). We even know that, following this interaction, Charles is frazzled/irritated when he fails to get Edwin's attention away from Monty's astrology book (clearly upset that Edwin's attention is occupied elsewhere and suddenly eager to remind Edwin that the goal is to leave Port Townsend with haste). Monty aside, we're not even getting into the protective and emotional response Charles has at the mere mention of the damn Cat King...

SOOOO TLDR; I've watched this show every day, and the more I watch it the less I can be convinced that Charles is not jealous AF and stupidly, deeply in love with Edwin...even if he isn't aware of it yet. I have no idea why so many people think Charles has 0 romantic interest in Edwin and that he "turned Edwin down completely" on the stairs to hell... because that's simply just not what happened lmao. Seeing the word "queerbait" being attached to these two is giving me whiplash... like that's just not what's happening here. That's not the proper interpretation of the nature of their relationship. I don't think there is any possibility, not a chance in hell, that Charles will not reciprocate Edwin's romantic feelings because he quite literally already does and just doesn't know it yet. There's no other way to interpret the acting choices made (which are brilliant) and the writing choices (which are also brilliant).

Anyway, hopefully that made sense. I just needed to share because I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure going absolutely batshit over this show! 😇

[tragedy-machine]

Payneland fic rec list part 4!

1. Reach Out And Touch Faith - Edwin stops touching Charles; Charles doesn't deal well with it, Charles angst my beloved <3 and yes you could say I'm biased towards this fic hihi

2. I Turned Back One Last Time (just to prove you were there) - touchy Charles, paranoid that Edwin will get snatched again if he lets him out of his sight, Charles angst again

3. I'll let you go if you kiss me goodbye - "didn't know they were dating" trope, which is my favorite trope ever so I love this so dearly, believe me when I tell you I haven't been able to stop thinking about this fic since I read it!!!

4. The Problem of Forever - they meet a couple of ghosts and Edwin internalizes some shit about their fucked up relationship, Edwin angst for a change

5. feel - Edwin decided to put some distance between them and Charles takes it as a personal challenge, lol, touchy Charles yet again! and Edwin suffers for it

6. True Love's Kiss - Charles acquires a love potion and uses it to resolve his ongoing issue, Edwin suffers for it again lmao

7. something reluctant to let go - Edwin falls down into the sea, and what is Charles supposed to do? not jump after him? love this idea

8. boyfriend jacket - 5+1 times when Charles gave Edwin his jacket and one time Edwin stole it, it's a good jacket, who can blame him

I always try to reply under people's posts searching for fic recs with specific tropes so if anyone has a trope they'd like a a few recs for, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox and I'll scour my bookmarks for something for y'all!

And here's part 3 of the list, happy reading!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I know realistically what actually happened is probably that Esther just wanted Monty to ingratiate himself into the group and Monty himself just decided to start flirting with Edwin of his own volition, which is funny enough on its own, but I really do think sometimes about Esther creating human Monty as specifically a honeypot for her revenge plan, because that leaves us with two more hilarious options - either Esther instructed him to flirt specifically with Edwin (which means she, much like everyone else in this damn town, clocked him in about two seconds but like. when he wasn’t even doing anything particularly telling lmao), or she crafted him to be attractive to any of the three he happened to bump into first (which implies that Esther is certain that all three of them are into guys from that same brief encounter) and I honestly don’t know which is funnier.

Again, realistically I know it’s the first but the last one makes me cackle because it’s literally just

Esther, waving her hand dismissively: “Okay now go bump into whoever and lay on the charm I’ve got an evil mushroom to grow”

Monty, already packing his astrology books: “on it boss” 🫡

[highlyillogicalandroid]

Things I’ve noticed on my Dead Boy Detectives rewatch(es):

Please I NEED to know who the creepy ass clowns on the train were I know it was For the Gag, but PLEASE.

The boys have so many different versions of Clue in their closet???

Also lmao at them being *in the closet* together.

Hnnnn Jenny

I know other ppl have spotted this but the first book Charles grabs in episode 2 (the pink one) ends up being the one with the answers they need to help Niko (not the blue one Edwin insisted he needed).

I love Crystal and Niko look at those girls go.

In episode 3, they learn about evil seagulls and severed feet washing up on shore. In episode 4, Edwin picks up some sheet music that Mick says is cursed and attracts evil seagulls!!

“A bird cries? Is it sad?” Niko my precious darling angel I love you for always.

Okay, okay, I know Valley of the Dolls isn’t about actual dolls but Edwin, did YOU know that when you decided to read it??

The music box thing in episode 4 is absolutely playing Wellerman, right? I’m not imagining things??

“Remarkably low compatibility between Taurus and Aries?” That’s Crystal and Charles, btw.

As Charles starts to spiral about his abusive dad and his own rage, his polo gets darker. When he confesses his fears to Edwin in episode 5, Edwin turns up his collar, revealing its red lining, bringing Charles back toward his hero look. Excuse me while I sob.

“I will always hit a demon with a cricket bat for you.”

“Wrong way. AVARICE. Everything too heavy.” Gives me CHILLS.

The fact that Edwin tore the dollhouse corner out of his notebook.

Charles’ devastated face in episode 7 when Edwin tells him that ringing the call bell hurts the souls in limbo, after he’s already rung it on the way in.

The Night Nurse complains about Niko but she told Niko about the man in the fish?? No one can resist the pull of Friendship with Niko!!

The Cat King gives Edwin calla lilies as a consolation gift at the end of episode 8. Calla lilies are incredibly toxic to cats. Cat King, babe, I know you’ve got a thing for him but damn, have a sense of self preservation, PLEASE!

Edwin’s little saunter right before he kisses TCK on the cheek.

“You’re properly missable.” AHHHH CHARLES YOU LIKE HIMMMMM.

The way Charles and Edwin open the box together sure is something!!

It’s not just the hug (although WHAT A HUG), it’s the buildup to the hug! It’s the way they drift away from each other and then pause and turn toward each other at the same time and it’s so choreographed yet so natural and so perfectly them, like they orbit around each other and are always going to be drawn back together and oh my God I am not normal about it.

Also it’s Edwin who has his back to Charles and turns to glance behind in a lovely little reversal of the Orpheus and Eurydice archetypes from ep 6 and oh isn’t that just so juicy!!!

Okay but it’s also the hug. It’s how tight it is and how they don’t want to let go and how their hands brush against each other when they eventually do drift away.

The way Charles leans over Edwin and puts their heads so close together? Okay you fucking flirt.

Nikoooooooo

[badaziraphaletakes]

I have some questions

Hi... Aziraphale had no way of going to hell in search of Crowley??????

Oh wait that's not a question, that's a statement. Lol nvmind.

And how would Azi even get him back out? Stop blaming her for what the heaven/hell apparatus is doing to Crowley and to her. (Y'know what, I'm gonna be referring to Azi as "she/her" in this post, because we all deserve more of that. So deal with it.) Do you think she hasn't been racking her brains trying to think of a way to save Crowley ever since the Fall, and even before that?

Also - If Aziraphale went to hell and got stuck there, she'd probably be forced to torture people and that's not cool. (She probably wouldn't get a job on earth like Crowley.) Whereas there is no evidence whatsoever that Aziraphale has to actively do harm as part of her current role on earth. There are very good reasons Crowley doesn't want her to go to hell / become a demon / whatever. He doesn't want Aziraphale to suffer the same moral injury that he has.

Also also - Aziraphale mouths "Crowley" instead of screaming it because she knows it'll only get them both in more trouble if heaven/hell finds out they have an acquaintanceship, let alone that they care about each other. As an ab*se survivor, it's one of the most painful moments in the series for me, seeing Aziraphale distraught and having to hide it.

Azi mouthing "Crowley" while frantically trying to keep a straight face is the equivalent of Charles immediately trying to run after Edwin. It's arguably even more loving, I'd say. Aziraphale loves Crowley so much that she saw her worst nightmare come true (or rather, didn't see it? you know what I mean lol) and still managed to keep her "We don't know each other" mask more or less intact. Utterly devastating. This was the ultimate test of her love for Crowley, and she passed it.

*** Side note: If Aziraphale behaved the way fans want to demand she behave, hell would have killed Crowley so many times already lmao. And then of course the fans would be blaming her for that instead. << Babygirl can't win. She's damned (ha) if she does and damned if she doesn't. ***

You can see the horror and terror and devastation in her eyes.

Here's a really good post about it:

But even if we didn't have that glimpse of her face at that moment... FUCK thinking Aziraphale wasn't worried about Crowley then. There is literally NO reason to assume she wasn't upset about seeing him dragged to hell to presumably be killed. (And yes, Azi knew hell was ab*sive and violent to Crowley, even back then. I'd argue she's known since NLT Uz. After all, she knows Crowley didn't "kill" the goats and the kids because he wanted to. She knows it was because hell made him do it.)

Also also also: She literally did go to hell to save Crowley, later on?

And wtf is wrong with what she wrote in her diary? "That was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time" is (so far as we know) a factual statement. She's writing about an upsetting experience. Journaling is a healthy coping technique. But apparently that's bad now lmao. (Not to mention there were so many things about that diary entry that were so blatantly weird that it's clear we can't take anything about Aziraphale's journals at face value anyway. But I guess we're just ignoring that.)

OH AND ONE MORE THING! That's "husband" or "wife" or "spouse" to you, not "friend"!

[dckweed]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman. 

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it. 

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab. 

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.” 

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened. 

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money. 

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.” 

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?” 

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him. 

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..” 

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..” 

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight. 

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand. 

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled. 

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie. 

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. 

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face. 

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no. 

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram. 

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him. 

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits. 

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him. 

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple. 

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..” 

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today. 

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades. 

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval. 

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..” 

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you. 

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..” 

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.” 

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it. 

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you. 

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later. 

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy. 

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath. 

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers. 

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in. 

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway. 

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out. 

taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks @eloquentdreamer @sweetwhispersofchaos @pet1t3 @teacupsandtopgun @milkbummm @purplevortexx @silenterosion

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Wise Men Build Their Houses on Rocks While the Rest of Us Settle for Skeletons

EVERYONE is doing their DBDA prompt challenges in October, so I doubt I'm gonna do any one of them completely. I'm gonna have to pick and choose fave days/prompts and mix and match it. I really didn't think I was gonna get anything done for Catween, but I glanced at the prompt list last night, had an idea, and bashed this out. I probably would have gone into the ideas/questions it raises more if I'd had more time lmao So, Catwin enjoyers, I hope you like this weird little thing! 2.2k, rated M, also available on Ao3 (registered users only!)

“Are you quite sure that it’s in here?” Edwin called, a note of impatience slipping into his voice unbidden. He had no desire to waste several more hours searching for something not knowing if he was even in the correct room.

“Well, I didn’t throw it out,” came the dry response of Thomas from the next room, his voice muffled. As if it were buried in pillows which, given the time of day, it probably was. Thomas was and remained, despite his bipedal stints, a feline; and he rather had the sleep schedule to prove it. “Keep digging, Sherlock — you’ll smoke it out.”

Edwin rolled his eyes, and kept searching. He mustn’t lose his temper. He knew there was trust being placed in him, in being allowed to plum the depths of the Cat King’s hoard unsupervised. Especially for such frivolous purposes. Thomas didn’t even particularly care for Charles (allegedly), and certainly would not have thought to gift him a magical heirloom on what would have been his fifty-fifth birthday. But as soon as he’d let slip about a particular item he had in his collection, Edwin knew he had to have it for Charles; and he had ways of making Thomas see his side of things.

Unfortunately, the item in question was very small indeed — and Thomas’ organisational system was about what one might expect from the four-century hoard of an alley cat. Which was to say there was no clear system in place at all, everything thrown into the magically distended grotto with no rhyme or reason. That, or it was all organised in some manner which made sense only to the strange and animalistic whims of Thomas’ own mind. Perhaps he’d ordered everything by scent, in which case Edwin was truly lost at sea.

Edwin set his jaw, and carried on. A compact mirror, that’s what he was looking for. According to Thomas, it had an enchanted silver backing that reflected even ghosts. And Charles had mentioned several times recently that he sometimes wished he could ‘mess around’ a bit more with his eye make-up. Saw a bloke with gold eyeshadow in town today. How mint is that? and suchlike. Of course, as ghosts they had no need of cosmetics and could alter their appearances at will with a little practice, but it was damnably hard to judge the effects for oneself. One generally had to rely on second opinions. A small mirror would do just the trick. According to Thomas, it was a little flat disc, pink plastic with ‘hearts or some shit, like you’d find at Claire’s, y’know?’. Edwin was not sure who Claire was or why he was expected to know her taste, but a lurid pink plastic disc seemed enough information to go off.

The first such disc he found, however, was neither plastic nor pink. It was clearly old, Edwin would put it back as far as the seventeenth century. French. He inspected it with curiosity, running his fingers along the gold surface, so worn and weathered it was hard to tell what the original design had been. He’d be interested to get a look with the lexicographical lenses on the task. The disc hung on the ends of a short gold chain, and the two halves closed with a simple kiss-lock clasp like a traditional coin purse. Edwin had sifted through a number of more interesting objects in his search, but for some reason the little thing held his attention. It possessed a certain magnetism, a certain draw of the eye.

He glanced, furtively, back towards the door, the bedroom, the presence of a sleeping Cat King. He’d given his word that he wouldn’t fool about with anything, given there were any number of powerful magical objects in residence.

And yet, the kiss-lock clasp parted under a flick of his thumb before he could think to question the wisdom of it.

It opened to reveal what one would expect in a compact of its time. A small mirror in the lid, slightly age-spotted but otherwise intact, and clearly not the enchanted one, for there was no sign of Edwin’s reflection. There was also a small, soft pad in the lower half for the application of powder. Although in other examples Edwin had seen, the pad tended to be off-white or blush pink. This one was neither. It was orange. The material was odd, too. He would’ve expected a fibrous wool or similar, but it wasn’t that. He cautiously brushed a finger across it, using the modicum of touch sensation lent to him by the magic of the Cat King’s realm to confirm his hunch. Yes, no mistaking it. Fur. Very fine, very soft fur. He lifted the edge of it, cautiously, and found another scrap of fur underneath — this one of a shorter pile, and a smoky grey colouring. And beneath that, one more; this one varying shades of brown, arranged in stripe-like formations.

Cat fur.

Tap. Taptaptap.

Edwin startled. That sound. Hollow and rattling, like hail on a window. He looked up, to the high, slit-like window in the pseudo-warehouse where Thomas had built his hideaway, but the sky was as fine as it ever was here. The Cat King had no use for anything but long summer days and fine, temperate nights in his realm.

Taptaptaptaptaptap!

No louder, but more insistent. And coming from his hands. Edwin looked down, sharply — and his mouth fell open.

There was a little cat behind the looking glass.

Edwin held the mirror aloft, closer to his face, peering intently. It was so small, barely scraping half an inch in height, smaller than even the dandelion sprites. And it was tapping upon the inside of the mirror with a miniscule paw. Edwin recognised the light clacking sound as the clack of claws on glass. It was a tabby cat, light brown with dark striping. In fact, its coat bore a striking resemblance to the swatch tucked into the bottom of the compact. It regarded Edwin with a challenging air, eyes alight and tail swishing.

Edwin blinked, unsure what the etiquette was for this sort of a meeting. “Good afternoon.”

The cat moved its mouth, as if speaking. But whatever was said, Edwin couldn’t hear through the glass — and the shape of a cat’s mouth was rather difficult to lip read.

“I’m afraid I cannot hear you,” he said, apologetic — to which the cat responded with a scraping swipe of its paw against the surface. “Well, it’s hardly my fault!”

And then, something else appeared, behind the cat. Something taller, draped in hues of grey and black. Not something, someone. A rather familiar someone.

Edwin squinted, certain he must be mistaken. “...Is that you, Thomas?”

The tiny man in the mirror visibly flinched, his yellow eyes widening. He looked like Thomas, but not quite. Despite the fact he was clearly much younger, his hair was greyer, flatter. And his manner of dress bore little similarity to Thomas’ modern, extravagant tastes. In fact, this little Thomas lookalike was about as old-fashioned as Edwin, or slightly older; though his style was more in line with the fashions Edwin had seen in the background of films depicting the old American west, rather than at home in his own Edwardian England. It was simple, workaday, trousers tucked into sturdy leather boots and held up by braces. A loose, soft shirt, a wide-brimmed hat. It was so very dull and practical, it scarcely made sense on Thomas’ frame; but that was surely his face, down to the most microscopic impression of a scar upon his lip.

The not-Thomas narrowed his eyes at Edwin, and leaned his elbow on the glass, mouthing something. Edwin thought he said: “Who wants to know?”

Edwin cocked his head. Curiouser and curiouser.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said. “I was looking for something.”

The not-Thomas started mouthing something else, but Edwin was rather distracted by a third figure shouldering up beside him. This one even more familiar than the last.

No mistaking it; this one surely was Thomas. His Thomas — or rather, the Thomas he’d first met when he came to Port Townsend. From the dirty-blond hair to the leather skirt.

And unlike the other two, this one knew who Edwin was. Edwin could see his own name in the shapes formed by his lips, could see recognition glowing in his yellow eyes. He saw the name over and over, in fact, as the little Thomas repeated it while his hands pounded fruitlessly against the glass.

“Thomas,” Edwin breathed, bringing the mirror closer still. “Thomas, what is this? You’re in the next room, how can you be in here?”

Thomas began to mouth something, furiously, but he was so small and talking so fast, it was impossible to make out from sight alone. In squinting to see, though, Edwin noticed something else about his Thomas. He was black-and-blue, vivid bruises and cuts decorating every exposed inch of his skin. Blood trailed from his lip, his nose, even his ear. Come to think of it, the other two didn’t look their best, either. The grey Thomas was sopping wet; it was only now Edwin realised his hair looked so flat because it was damp and plastered to his skull. His skin was deathly pale, his eyes sunken. The cat, the tabby cat which must surely be Thomas as well, also bore a significant scar; a deep, red gash down the centre of his plush belly. What a grim trio they made; gutted, drowned, beaten.

Dead.

Edwin took a steadying breath. “Thomas,” he said. “Remind me, please: how many lives do cats have?”

Thomas grimaced, and held up nine fingers.

“And you have had how many?”

Three fingers — and then, slowly, a fourth.

“You find it, yet?”

Edwin jumped, and snapped the compact shut — though the look on the little Thomas’ face as he did so would haunt him for quite some time. “Ah — not yet,” he called back to the bedroom. “But I must be closing in…”

He heard Thomas chuckle. “Come back to bed. I’ll track it down in the morning.”

Edwin swallowed, tightly, and slipped the little gold compact into his inner pocket. “I’ll be right along.”

~

“Thomas?”

“Hm?”

Edwin fidgeted, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Thomas hadn’t managed to coax him completely out of his clothes, this time, but he’d certainly made decent innings. “I wondered… when a cat dies, does it… haunt? As a human does?”

Thomas shrugged, not bothering to remove his hands from their languid repose behind his head. “Sure. It’s all souls, right?”

“Right. Yes. And…”

“And…?”

“And does that happen… with every death?”

Thomas cracked open one golden, knowing eye to regard him across the pillows. “Well, that depends.”

“On?”

“On how unlucky you get.” He stretched, his back arching sinuously off the bed. “On how much unfinished business you’re stuck with.”

“I see.” Edwin cleared his throat. “How… interesting.”

“Hmm. You know something, Edwin?”

“What?”

Thomas smirked, lazily, and drew his hand from behind his head. He raised it up high, then opened it — and the little golden compact tumbled to the end of its chain with a dainty rattle.

“You’re almost as bad a liar as you are a thief.”

Edwin blanched. “Ah. I can explain —”

“No no no. No explanation needed. I’m proud of you, y’know? Nice to see you coming out of your shell. Be gay, do crime, that’s what the kids are saying these days, right?”

Edwin’s brow furrowed. “Is it?”

“Ah, something like that, anyway.” With a flick of the chain, Thomas whipped the little disc into his hand, inspecting it thoughtfully.

Edwin, feeling at least relatively safe in his assumption that he was not about to face serious repercussions for his thievery, crossed his arms in annoyance. “You pickpocketed me,” he accused.

“Eh, does it really count if I’m stealing back something you stole from me?” Thomas threw him a fond, sharp-toothed grin. “I’m not sure you can even call it pickpocketing when it’s that easy. Kiss you just right and I could steal the shirt off your back.”

Rather than bicker further, Edwin huffed, and curled into Thomas’ side. A warm, strong arm wrapped around Edwin’s shoulders with no further prompting. “Will you tell me?” he said softly, tapping his fingers upon Thomas’ chest. His eyes never left the little mirror.

For a few long moments, it seemed Thomas wouldn’t answer.

“Did what I had to do,” he eventually admitted. “To get ‘em off my back.”

“Off your back?”

Thomas scowled, giving the compact a little shake. “Pushy little bitches.”

“I don’t understand. You mean they stay with you?”

“Cats don’t have houses to haunt, sweetheart.” Thomas sighed, putting the mirror down on his chest and letting his hand close over it. “In the end, all we’ve ever got is ourselves.”

Edwin nestled in closer. His hand landed atop Thomas’, atop the little metal disc where his restless old lives rattled like matches in a box. “That’s not strictly speaking true anymore, is it?” he said, propping his head upon Thomas’ shoulder. “You’ve got me, now.” He hummed. “And Charles, in a sense — I’m afraid we don’t come separately.”

Thomas gave a soft snort of laughter, and looked at him; a very old and aching sadness in his eyes. His smile, blunted, barely gleamed in the soft neon light. “Even ghosts move on eventually.”

Thanks for reading! I'd really, really love to know what you thought of it 💛💛💛 I imagine a lot of the prompts I fill this month on my main will be Payneland. That being said there will defo be some configurations of ships involving the Cat King, and MANY of them will need to be posted on my semi-secret-ish side smut account, so. DM me if you want that I guess xD Thank you all so much for your support of my fics, for your patience with Lonely Bones, and just generally for being the most delightful fandom I've been part of for absolute donkey's years 💛 be seeing you soon!!!

[lowkeyrobin]

Could you do preferences on the dead boy detective crew finding out there s/o or friend is a werewolf ( you don't have to if you don't want to)

oo okay sure! I can definitely try!! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; I also don't know much about werewolves and since ppl see them differently and whatnot I just went with what I know?? idk man

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES ; werewolf

includes ; monty, charles, edwin, crystal & niko

warnings ; language

masterlist

MONTY

it was odd for you to refuse going out for a nightly walk with him

he was honestly worried and came over unannounced

and you weren't home...

okay now he's rlly worried

he ran into the woods behind your house and was immediately frightened as he was met face to face with a werewolf

he runs home and calls you repetitively before falling asleep, now plagued by the void in his mind that made his eyes grow heavy

in the morning, he texts you again, mentioning the werewolf

"uh, yeah that was me"

"wtf since when were u a werewolf???"

CHARLES

he'd only met you while visiting port townsend with crystal and edwin

but, with having to stay longer than expected with the whole esther/night witch/ new shop pop-up in town, you developed a bit of a romance

though, he never did know what you went through to be able to see him or edwin

turns out you're a werewolf.

you went rabid in the forest one night during the full moon and after not being able to reach you, went out to find you

he went alone into the woods, knowing you had a little secret hideout there

and there you are at the secret hideout, wolfed out

"oh, you're a werewolf?"

he had suspicions tbh

EDWIN

he knew you were a werewolf cause he desperately wanted to know that since you didn't have a near death experience (curse your ramblings) how you could see him n charles

"oh!..."

"is that good or bad?"

"quite fascinating actually"

though he did stick around for a bit during the full moon to make sure you were like... alright

he wanted to learn about werewolf attributes and shit too so win win situation

CRYSTAL

she lowkey would've never guessed

but you weren't keeping track of the full moon and one night while you were hanging out, you changed

scared the shit out of her 💀💀

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!- wait... is that you y/n???"

she keeps track of the full moon and stuff for you (she lowk probably does this anyway, she seems like an astrology / crystal nerd too idk)

she honestly apologizes for her first reaction but tbf she didn't know

you meant to tell her but didn't know how

NIKO

she's so fascinated and wants to know everything, how you turn, side effects, etc

when the full moon comes around, she's warning you up to 3 weeks prior lmao

if you crave any food before u turn she's getting it for you trust 💪

you kinda wonder why she isn't scared of you

but mind you she had little demons stuck in her body trying to implode her

so she's not really scared, just very invested