firstofficers-log

[firstofficers-log]

Y’know what…

Yeah. I want my tax dollars to pay for the healthcare of the person who started smoking and kept smoking because they think it looks cool and doesn’t give a shit about all the warnings. I want my tax dollars to pay for the healthcare of the person who destroyed their liver because they just love drinking and didn’t stop even if they weren’t addicted. I want my tax dollars to pay for the healthcare of the person who never drinks water, only regular cola. I want my tax dollars to pay for the healthcare of the person who missed the trampoline when they jumped off the roof to impress their friends. I want my tax dollars to pay for the healthcare of every single person who had to have a surgeon remove something without a flared base from their assholes. I want my tax dollars to pay for all the kinds healthcare needed by all the kinds of people who decided to have sex without any kind of barrier. I want my tax dollars to help fix the teeth of meth users. I want my tax dollars to help everyone who’s been noncompliant with the doctor’s recommendations, everyone who’s been a hypochondriac in the ER, everyone who let things get bad before getting help.

Everyone is deserving. 

[firstofficers-log]

the angel staying over at my house asked for a nightlight in their room and i told them buddy, don't you produce your own light? what're you gonna do with more? and they said they wanted to see why people like it so much. and also that the nightlight i own is blue and they're been trying to understand color. anyways i think they've stared at it for an hour now

[firstofficers-log]

anyway shout out to the ao3 tagging systems for all the important ways you can engage with yourself 

[firstofficers-log]

ok I have recently learned that it's actually disrespectful to WEAR rosaries and that's my bad. i was not raised religious at all, this is still cute tho I stand by it

he gives you a rosary, an antique, something he wants you to wear under your clothes, something just the two of you know about. it serves dual purposes: he blesses it so that he can trust that you are well looked after, and it also allows you to bring a part of him with you, even when he can't be with you, physically, or even publicly for that matter.

when you're alone, he likes to run his fingers along the beads at your collar, carefully extracting it from underneath your clothes. holds the cross in his hand.

he likes when it's warm with the heat of your body, so close to your heart all day. he likes that he can watch you fidget with it absentmindedly. he likes that you wear something from him, even if it's not something you want to wear on top of your clothes -- it's more fitting, anyway, he thinks, that it's hidden. safe from the eyes that may cast judgment upon you both.

[firstofficers-log]

I'm thinking about.......... it starts snowing one night, when everyone is asleep, sheets of it. you know it's going to be hard for the fishermen in the morning, you know it is.

but still, you bundle up, double up on socks, shove them into your boots.

there's nothing better than fresh snow, your own footprints the only ones yet to crunch a new path, dirt roads obscured under the sparkling white blankets. being on an island like Crockett, you're used to rain, even hail, so when it snows in earnest it's such a treat.

and it's beautiful to see, most lights inside houses turned out for the night. but you can still see, what small light there is reflected off the snow, illuminating the world in blue light.

it's calm, calmer than usual, which is a feat you'd been unaware was possible in Crockett. the exposed bits of your skin burn cold, but you love it, the sensation wiping away any of the tiredness you might have felt at the late hour.

and just, while you're looking up at the fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky, you feel eyes on you, and you turn to see father Paul, dressed similarly to yourself, bathed in the light of one of the odd streetlamps on the island that hadn't yet gone out.

you smile and wave at him, feeling a pull, but you don't want to make him feel like he has to talk to you; you're sure he has his own reasons for wanting to be out at this hour, and you don't want to intrude.

but he smiles so brightly it rivals the snow, waves back, and begins to walk towards you. you meet him halfway.

you just.... you wander, together, in the snow. talk about everything and nothing, upcoming events, favorite winters. you try not to watch how his breath leaves him in big clouds, the pink of his nose.

the way snowflakes fall on his dark hair, his eyelashes, his shoulders. how when he laughs, you can see it in front of him, the expression of joy tangible in the air.

the way his footprints look next to yours in the snow, when you look back at them.

just,,,, the way he is so enamored with snow. another one of gods miracles. he looks at it with such wonder even though he's seen it for years, decades. you can't help but think that he's deserving of that same reverence; that he himself is a marvel put here for you to appreciate, to sing his praises, if only to yourself.

he invites you in for tea or hot cocoa, insisting that it's the least he can do after you've kept him company for so long, and you must be cold, aren't you? you don't have the heart to tell him that no, you aren't all that cold, you've been warned to the core by being in his presence uninterrupted, the sole object of his attention for a few hours. but of course, you accept and promise you won't take up too much more of his time.

you don't see the fondness in his eyes when he drapes a blanket over you, dozed off on his couch in front of the fire. your snow clothes are hanging on various surfaces, set out to dry. he smiles at your sleeping form, the same reverence he showed the snow outdoors that you admired so much. sleep well, he tells you.

[firstofficers-log]

you would get onto his lap to make out with him and within minutes he's apologizing because he's already come. (imo it's super endearing and kinda flattering more than anything else)

(nsfw) anyone who writes father paul as like, a hard top? I understand but you are so wrong

dude hasn't seen any action in decades. he comes from dry humping

[firstofficers-log]

(nsfw) anyone who writes father paul as like, a hard top? I understand but you are so wrong

dude hasn't seen any action in decades. he comes from dry humping

[firstofficers-log]

father paul i am asking you to lean down and then giving you a kiss on the corner of your mouth. i am sitting down next to you close enough that i can feel when you make the slightest movement, any little adjustment. i am making note of what you take in your tea, your coffee, committing it to my memory as though it were a prayer in itself, recited in the steam that rises from a cup selected just for you.

[firstofficers-log]

he gives you a rosary, an antique, something he wants you to wear under your clothes, something just the two of you know about. it serves dual purposes: he blesses it so that he can trust that you are well looked after, and it also allows you to bring a part of him with you, even when he can't be with you, physically, or even publicly for that matter.

when you're alone, he likes to run his fingers along the beads at your collar, carefully extracting it from underneath your clothes. holds the cross in his hand.

he likes when it's warm with the heat of your body, so close to your heart all day. he likes that he can watch you fidget with it absentmindedly. he likes that you wear something from him, even if it's not something you want to wear on top of your clothes -- it's more fitting, anyway, he thinks, that it's hidden. safe from the eyes that may cast judgment upon you both.

[firstofficers-log]

perhaps I simply post my little father Paul snippets here......

[firstofficers-log]

The Mouth of God

Father Paul x gn!Reader | 0.8K | SFW 

Father Paul is failing to ignore how he feels about you. He gives communion, and afterwards seeks you out to put an end to these feelings through confrontation. Things don’t go quite as planned.

On your knees before him, mouth open, that heady look in your eye like you knew what it did to him. He was normally so careful not to touch the tongue of the body he was making offering to, a lesson in personal revulsion he’d learnt the first day of his priesthood.

But as he placed the communion wafer to your tongue, he indulgently rested his fingers against the wetness of your mouth, a split second before he was pulling away, your bottom lip grazed in the hasty retreat.

God was watching. He was always watching him. He would not be pleased with this slip of devotion.

“The body of Christ,” Father Paul uttered for the twentieth time that day.

“Amen,” You replied, and it caused a shudder to go through his body. Most people said that word like a reflex, without thought or intention. It was a full-stop to them, a breath of relief, a break from the worship.

When you said it, it was an oath.

Keep reading

[firstofficers-log]

What love looks like | Crowley

For @genderfluid-demon-alex

Hands

It's the way he places his hand on your shoulder or back when he stands near you. Sometimes he'll loop his whole arm around you and pull you into his side.

It's in the way his fingers tuck under your chin so he can make you look up at him. The feeling of them lingers long after he lowers his hand.

It's how his fingers always curls around yours when he's having a soft moment. Sometimes he just wants to hold your hand.

Eyes

It's in the way he watches you from behind his glasses as you go about your day. Even in the way he peeks over them to watch you with a smile on his face.

It's in the way they soften when you talk to him or kiss him. That cocky and confident aura vanishes because he melts when he is with you. His eyes only ever look this way when they're on you.

It's I'm the way they frantically search for you when he knows you're near by. How desperate he is to see you every single time.

Voice

It's in the way he teases you. How he calls your name with a smirk, only to shrug and say it was nothing. He just wanted you to look at him.

It's the way he leans in and whispers in your ear, startling you because you didn't see him. He will whisper anything he can think of.

It's how he reminds you he loves you at random times. Sometimes he just needs to tell you how he feels.

Lips

It's in the way he smiles at you when he looks at you. You're his favourite thing about the human race.

It's the way he says your name in his soft moments. He speaks it like it's a sacred word that can only be shared between the two of you.

It's how he kisses you when he has you alone. Crowley has no shame, but when he has you to himself, he kisses you like nothing else. So much feeling and need is put into one simple act.

[firstofficers-log]

What love looks like | Aziraphale

Hands

It's in the way he flexes his hands when he is near you, wanting to take a hold of your hand, but not doing so because Crowley is there and is bound to tease him.

It's the way his fingers brush against yours when he offers you things. The gentle touch of his fingers against your own. You know he does it on purpose.

It's how he he waves at you when you leave his shop. How he he never misses a beat doing so. From the first time you had met, he always saw you out with a wave.

Eyes

It's the way his eyes light up when he talks to you. They sparkle with joy as he shares stories with you.

It's I'm the worry he expresses when he's concerned about you. You can read his eyes so easily. With one look you assure him all is fine.

It's how he instantly looks for you when he hears you're in the room somewhere. He hears your name and instantly has to find you.

Voice

It's in the way he speaks softly when you're both alone, talking about nothing and everything together in his bookshop.

It's the way he says your name with so much love and care. Your name is such a special word when he speaks it.

It's the way he greets you and says goodbye when you leave. In how cheery he is when he days hello, and how sad he begins to sound when he nods you farewell. He never wants to leave your side.

Lips

It's in the way he constantly smiles at you when you're around. The way you make him happy just by being there with him. He always smiles at you.

It's the way he leans in and kisses you softly when he can longer hide how he feels. You're his special person and he wants you to know that.

[firstofficers-log]

self ship summer asks!

1. what are your favorite activities to do together?

2. have you both ever gone on vacation together? do you plan to go on a vacation?

3. whos the night owl? whos the early bird?

4. what movies do you and your f/o love to watch together?

5. what is your f/os favorite pet name to call you? what’s your favorite that you call them?

6. do you and your f/o prefer the pool or the beach?

7. what is something your f/o does that never fails to make you smile?

8. what’s your favorite cold treat? what’s your f/os favorite?

9. do you and your f/o like roadtrips? have you gone on one together?

10. what song would you use to describe your relationship with your f/o?

11. what’s your f/os favorite flower? what’s yours?

12. do you and your f/o like to have water ballon/water gun battles? who wins?

13. do you and your f/o like to go stargazing?

14. do you both like going to concerts? who would you go see?

15. what was you and your f/os first kiss like?

16. aquarium date or museum date?

17. whos better at building sand castles?

18. who wins who prizes at the local fair?

19. does your f/o like fireworks? do you?

20. what are three words you would use to describe them? what three words would they use for you?

21. do you and your f/o like camping?

22. what color reminds you of your f/o? do you have a reason why?

[firstofficers-log]

send me a ship and one of these and i'll write a mini fic

[firstofficers-log]

I am so tired, my love. Hold me like the world is ending.

[firstofficers-log]

Hey there! I just happened to have found your blog like a few days ago and I'm in love with your writing! Your style is nothing like I've read before and it's so pleasant and smooth. I don't know if you still write but I'd very much like to request a sequel to In The Woods Somewhere because I've been trying for so long to find an intriguing story where the reader is a beast. I'd love to see how this kind of relationship between them and Newt would go. Have a lovely day💕💕

oh m y gosh, this is the sweetest message ever?? thank you so much for your kind words!!!! I really needed that today, you have no idea

I was literally thinking about writing a second part to that story just yesterday!!! my inspiration has been shot to shit recently though what with. y know. everything. but i’d love to write another part!! 

thank you again for being the sweetest!!!