#hope it's ok to put prompt stuff with something i just drew for no reason.

[lunarharp]

day 3 - exchanging “love letters” and some greying hair

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm.   Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.  Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her.  He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered.  They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape. 

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic.  Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him.  In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate.  “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”.  If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought.  That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this.   He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents.  He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian.  He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions.  Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way.  So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings.  He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings.  She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him.  Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under.  He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside.  He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.  

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think.  “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”. 

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head.  “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment.  It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first.  Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.  

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room.  Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.  

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look.  As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff.  Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously.  Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him.  Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap.  Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye.  Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.  Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.  He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge.  There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar.  Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside.  He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg.  With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other. 

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him.  He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket.  “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee. 

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him.  Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power.  It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse.  There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured.  She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights.  She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now.  She was getting increasingly antsy,  Jason was probably worried sick about her.  

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.”  Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there.  “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches.  It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room. 

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?” 

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder.  The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet. 

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side.  More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”.  She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse.  “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining.  She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one.  She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly.  Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic.  Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm.  She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout.  A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette.  Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her.  He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug,  Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck.   He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head.  “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason:  I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason:  I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

[supernatural-love14]

Is That All I Am To You?

Summary: Thinking that her and Dean are exclusive, the Reader is proved wrong when Dean tells another hunter that they are only friends…

Warnings: The tiniest bit of fluff (and I seriously mean tiny). some serious ANGST. No happy ending. Arguing. Language. Crying. Lots of crying… 

Word Counts: 1,682

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Former Dean x Reader

PROMPT: Is that all I am to you?

A/N: This is for the @jawritter​ 1500 Follower Challenge - Jen’s Make Me Cry Challenge - here’s the masterlist to it. 

MAIN MASTERLIST  ~  SERIES MASTERLIST  ~ ONESHOT MASTERLIST

Four years. Four years that I have known Dean Winchester. Two years that we have been dating. At first it started out as a friends with benefits thing, which I was completely fine with if it meant I could spend time with Dean. But then it started to get serious, he started to take me on dates. We’d go to restaurants - just me and him, go play crazy golf, go on walks, stuff that couples would do. 

A year down the line of the relationship, Dean gives me space in his room for clothes. Not that it really mattered if I had a drawer or not in his room considering my room was only down the hall. But most of the time I would sleep in his room, with his arms protectively wrapped around me as we slept. 

Even Sam believed we were dating, it felt like we were dating - like it was all real. But I was so wrong, that I didn’t even realise that everything Dean had ever promised me was a lie. I should have seen it coming. Like come on, it’s Dean freaking Winchester. The one who gets around with all the women, never settling down, never dating anyone because it would have the worst outcome. 

How couldn’t I have seen this? Why couldn’t I have stopped myself from falling for his charm years ago? I feel so naive and gullible. I know now that I can’t ever believe anything that man says. Ever again. 

I have to leave, I have to get out of here. 

5 Hours Earlier…

Meeting Sam at the bar, Dean and I walk in with his arm “possessively” wrapped around my waist, warding off any guys that would even think to get close to me. Sam sat in one of the corner booths of the bar far away from anyone. To everyone it looked like we were together, technically we were. 

Joining Sam at the table, I was sat next to Dean leaning my head on his shoulder while he had one of his arms wrapped around mine. It was so clear to everyone that we were more than just friends. The lingering touches, the featherlight kisses on the forehead. Even the way he looked at me suggested that there was more than friendship. For the first time in a long time, there were no girls even attempting to flirtatiously glance his way. They knew he was taken. They didn’t even try to come over to get his attention, they knew they wouldn’t get it. 

“Any new cases, Sammy?” Dean asked, as he grabbed onto one of the many beer bottles that was brought over to them, taking a large gulp of it. 

“Man, I’ve looked but nothing so far, a whole bunch of others have taken cases and there’s just nothing at the moment.”

“Do they need any help?” Dean asked, clearly needing something to keep him occupied but Sam quickly shook his head.

“I’ve already asked, but you know what hunters are like, they’ve got their own partners to help them and they don’t need three extra hunters. But I’ll keep looking for cases, I guess we can just take this time off that we never get round to having.” Sam explained, lifting his own beer to drink, his eyes scanning the bar before noticing someone staring at them. “Hey, we’re being watched.”

“What… by who?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never seen him before, he’s just intensely looking at us from the bar.” I turn around to see the man sitting at the bar. Once he see’s me looking at him, he smiles. Gasping I realise who it is. “Y/n, you know who that is?”

“Yeah… my ex.” Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Dean slightly turns to see the guy who is staring at you. 

“Bad ending?” Sam asked with concern, his eyes shifting from you to your ex and then to Dean. 

“Not really. He’s not… a hunter. And it was a long time ago.” You started to explain to the boys. 

“Are you going to go over?” Dean asked, masking his emotions with a straight face.

“Should I?” Looking up at him, trying to get a read on him but failing miserably. 

Gulping, Dean looked from you to your ex before looking back at you. “Y/n, he’s clearly here to see you. You should go over there.”

“But I’m here with you guys… It’s fine, really. I’m with you. I have no reason to see him. It didn’t end well last time I saw him, which was when we broke up.”

“Did he know about the hunting life?” 

“Yeah, that’s the main reason we broke it off.” I lie easily, not really wanting to explain my past.

“Maybe he’s trying to get you back, maybe he’s ok with you being a hunter.”

“Dean! I’m with you, I don’t need to go back with my ex… I’m already taken.” 

“Yeah but we’re not really together, together…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your voice slightly, hoping this isn’t where it’s really going.

“Dean, st-“ Sam started to say before Dean interrupted him. 

“We’re only friends with benefits.”

“So, what two years of being together - friends with benefits or not, and not once id you think that with all your actions showed that this was more than friends with benefits. You don’t take a friend with benefits on dates. Let me guess in all of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you’ve been seeing other people haven’t you?” 

“Y/n…I’m sorry that you thought there was more to this-“

“No. What you did was lead me on. I’m going back to the bunker.” Getting up from my seat, I quickly grab my stuff before heading out towards the door. My ex immediately heading towards me, and I couldn’t even stop the eye roll from forming. 

“Hey, Y/n. It’s been a while.” He stops in front of me, blocking me from the exit and now i’m suddenly remembering why we broke up in the first place. Anyone would think that we broke up because I was in the hunting life and he was not, something normal. But no, this cheating bastard thinks he has the audacity to think we will pick things up where it was left.

“Yeah, I guess. How’s Amanda?” 

“Andrea, was her name.”

“OH right, that so silly of me to get the name mixed up of the girl you threw me away for.” I said bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Y/n, at the time we weren’t really together.” You could just feel like your brain wanted to explode at that very second, what was with men and not telling you what the relationship status was. Was it that hard to talk for them to talk to me? And why did I have such bad luck with men!?

“Yeah, I remember, I remember you so clearly saying that as you were banging that chick in our bedroom of the house we brought together!” 

“Y/n…” He started to say grabbing my arm slightly to pull me towards him, before I so rudely pushed it away. “Don’t be like this. Remember all the fun we had together.”

“No. I don’t. Now if you excuse me, I have to leave. I’ve dealt with dickheads all evening.” 

“Hey, don’t go. Come on, catch up with me.”

“No. I’m not going down that path again. What happened between me and you is now over. It’s been over for years.” Clearly not getting the message, he pulls me roughly towards him, before I kick him in the balls. I didn’t even realise one of the Winchester boys were behind me before Sam pulled me back away from my dick of an ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, she clearly said no. So leave her alone.” Sam defended, a glare placed on his face, I turned slightly to see where Dean was but seeing him at the other end of the bar chatting up a chick just made my blood boil. Here I was clearly struggling to get rid of my ex and he’s over there throwing what little we had left away like trash. From this moment I knew it was over. I knew we would never be together. And I knew I had to leave for good. No more would I fall for men like him. 

I could feel my eyes tearing up, blinking rapidly to hold them back from falling. My ex now left the area of the bar as Sam watched me with concern. “I’m going back to the bunker.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get some sleep.” 

“Ok…just call me to let me know you got back ok.”

“Of course.” Lying through my teeth as I give Sam a quick hug. With him never realising that this would be the last time he would see me. I leave the bar quickly heading back to place which will no longer be my home. 

After 5 hours I had packed my things, grabbed anything and everything I had in Dean’s room and my old room to put into my car. My old car was sitting in the garage, where it had been left since the day I moved in here. I never really needed it when I had moved in, I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my face as I realise how much I will miss this place. The memories that I thought were good now turned to ash and dust. 

I will move on from Dean Winchester. Sitting behind the wheel just made it all too real as Dean will never know how much I loved him but I have to leave, I can’t stay here knowing that he will never fully be with me not after everything that I now know. He’ll never know what he truly missed out on, holding a hand to my flat stomach, the life that was slowly growing inside of me. Dean will never know that he would have a child. Because he will never find me. Not ever again.

IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT IT MEANS I CANNOT TAG YOU FOR SOME REASON. ALSO FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED!

Forever Tags:

@peachyafshawn @vicmc624 @deanswaywardgirl @hobby27

Dean Winchester Tags:

@foreverasouldreamer​  @a-girls-little-world @dreamyalessiaa @dhawandyke  @bi-danvers0  @anorable-agnes-drew  @autumnfrancour2 @waywardbeanie @ellewritesfix05 @flamencodiva   @akshi8278  @tuataracda123

If you wish to be added to the taglist even if it just for a series or one shot - comment down below or ask me!

[skellebonez]

if you still wants prompts, how about 9 with red son after being taken in by tang and pigsy, seeing how they, mk, mei, and sandy all act around each other and being completely bewildered and out of his element around an actually affectionate family dynamic?

I had an idea a while ago about what might have happened if WBS had left one of those wisps that possessed the Bull Clones in DBK after episode 10, something she could use to try to manipulate him much more subtly and from a distance behind the scenes, so I'm gonna play around with a smidgen that here (so this ended up a little long... ok a lot long... SUPER LONG, 2K words). This is set between episode 10 and the Lunar New Year special, a little canon divergence.

How long have you been standing there?

The last few weeks hadn't been easy on anyone, but it hit Red Son harder than anyone else. Everyone had been hurt, physically at least, but Red’s hurt was on a deeper level... he'd thought everything was at least back to the status quo after Xiaotian had fought his possessed father.

He had no idea that the fight would be the catalyst for being forced into leaving his parents.

Oh, he had tried to stay. For a while everything had actually been pretty ok, his father was less cold and one minded on gaining power, but it quickly became apparent that something had gone wrong. He tried to talk reason into his father when he began to lash out at him, a little more every day, but after what had happened last time he couldn’t argue without his chest feeling tight and the words sputtering as they escaped his lips. His mother had tried as well, and she had managed to get through to him for a moment before that familiar blue light shone in his eyes and they realized exactly what had happened.

It was at her urging that he leave after that. For his own protection, she said, and Red didn’t know why that brought up so many conflicting emotions. DBK has fixated on him at the White Bone Spirit’s insistent manipulation, once again latching onto the notion of him being a traitor (and that hurt even more the second time around somehow) and she feared she would not be strong enough on her own to keep DBK from nearly succeeding in what he had failed to do last time. They had agreed on a plan, one that would have PIF playing along and pretending to banish her son so she could try to keep DBK under her watchful gaze while Red Son was at the very least out of harm’s reach.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that he wasn’t safe anywhere alone. His mother had kept in contact with him at first, back when he tried to stay in his old apartment. DBK had made short work of that plan and Red realized quickly that if his father considered him a traitor and his mother wanted his safety before anything else he would need to swallow his pride and do the one thing he hadn’t planned on trying.

He went to Pigsy’s Noodles and asked for shelter... After he was body slammed by Noodle Boy and his two companions there, naturally. He supposed now that the reaction was relatively warranted.

The first thing they asked him was “How long have you been standing there?” since he was completely soaked in the rain that was pouring outside.

It was the scholar, Tang, who had listened to him most out of anyone. He seemed to be well versed in the stories of the White Bone Spirit and knowing the fight Xiaotian had put up against his father (and seeing the news stories of DBK smashing a random apartment) he was more than willing to give him a chance. Xiaotian had seemed willing to help after a time and once his stomach started growling and he admitted he had not eaten a full meal in over a day (and had been eating the worst meals he had in a while due to always being on edge) while hiding Pigsy had scowled and told him to sit down and wait. It was an awkward silence that fell over everyone.

The bowl of soup the pig demon placed in front of him was the best looking and smelling thing he had seen in days and he could barely hold himself back from scarfing it down. It was delicious, not that he was ready to admit so out loud. “Perfectly adequate” was what he had said when asked, around a full mouthful of noodles no less. He doubted it fooled anyone.

Though he hadn’t known what to expect when he asked for help, where they would send him or if they would even say yes. He thought maybe he would be sent to stay with Sun Wukong, though that would have been the worst possible outcome given their less than stellar history, or been told to stay with Xiaotian in his cramped tiny apartment. What he hadn’t expected was Pigsy to lead him out by the shoulder with a firm grip toward his and Tang’s apartment.

They’d given him their spare room and an old mattress and a set of rules. No going off on his own for his own safety (though he had a sneaking suspicion they also didn’t fully trust him which was honestly fair). He would work with Xiaotian on his deliveries or in the Noodle Shop (the idea of driving with Noodle Boy all day made him shudder and he hoped he would be set to work in the kitchen instead most days, but he bit his tongue). He could leave only if he stayed with Xiaojiao or Sandy. No catching things on fire (again, fair). Try not to fight with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao too much.

They tried to work out some kind of payment but he knew his father had no idea how bank accounts worked so he assured them he would at least be financially stable.

And things just... fell together somehow.

In time he started calling Xiaotian and Xiaojiao by their names rather than the nicknames he has given them. He found he actually quite liked Xiaotian’s music and driving delivery routes was not as bad as he feared. Xiaojiao had shown him the wonders of street racing (in disguise and the less Pigsy and Tang knew the better) and they bonded over mechanics. He had met Sandy and his many cats and learned that he was both a cat magnet and, according to Sandy, needed anger management (and also bonded with him over mechanics). He’d seen Sun Wukong only once, very briefly and neither saying a word in awkward silence. But somehow he could tell the monkey looked sad as he flew off back to Mount Huaguo.

Soon enough Pigsy had allowed him to help making soup and as it turned out while his own preferences for spicy food weren’t exactly popular with most normal clientele it drew an entire new group of food challengers. Pigsy seemed more than appreciative of this.

Tang, meanwhile, was overjoyed to have someone to talk to about all his stories and scholarly pursuits that wasn’t just Xiaotian and an annoyed (if, Red eventually realized, affectionately so) Pigsy. It was honestly quite fun to discuss topics he knew about and learn things even he had not known, learn how humans had passed down stories of demons he knew long ago, and just enjoy mildly antagonizing Pigsy in good fun.

This was all stuff he almost could have anticipated given what he knew about them all already. What he hadn’t anticipated was how... affectionate they all were.

Oh, some things he expected. Pigsy and Tang constantly being together? That wasn’t much unlike his parents. Xiaojiao grabbing him in hugs and pulling him around? He had seen how she was with others, that seemed in her character. Xiaotian bumping shoulders with him all the time? Much the same. Granted, he flinched every time this happened out of reflex.

But his confusion had started when Pigsy had ruffled Xiaotian’s hair on the first day Red Son worked in the noodle shop. The action baffled him, especially when the other young man swatted away the chef’s hands in annoyance, but there was a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice that belayed that he hadn’t hated the action.

He saw how much Xiaotian and Xiaojiao hugged, threw their arms over their shoulders, playfully punched each other. How Tang would also ruffle their hair and how Pigsy would move Xiaotian with a firm hand to where he needed him to be walking to. How Sandy would just gather everyone up in massive group hugs out of the blue.

He saw how Pigsy sometimes, when no one else watched, gave Tang the free helping of noodles he hassled him for with a smile. How he frowned after Xiaotian as he walked up to his apartment on shaky legs that were tired from a day of work and fighting demons. How Tang and Pigsy would sometimes reach over the counter and hold hands for a second before going back to what they were doing. How one time he had seen Xiaotian and Xiaojiao sitting back to back on his bed when he was sent up to get them and just... enjoy each other’s company.

He heard the nicknames and saw the casual brushes of hands and bumps of shoulders and smiles and gazes and it...

It made him realize how alone he had been with his mother, before his father had returned. How he almost always had Bull Clones for companions as he worked on his machines, how she rarely gave him casual touches of affection. Even after his father had returned she had been somewhat cold to him. His father was far more concerned with opening the box that started all of this, though he did not know how much blame to place on his father’s neglect itself or the influence he was under.

He loved his parents and he was certain they loved him. He had to be certain of that. But he could no longer deny they were not... affectionate.

So when one day Tang had reached out to grab his shoulder he had panicked.

Luckily he hadn’t burned the man, he had jumped back when he felt his hair flaming up, and he apologized profusely (when had he started being apologetic for his actions? maybe he was just afraid they would second guess giving him a chance and kick him out) for almost harming him.

It surprised him even more when Tang apologized and asked if he was the one ok, saying he didn’t mean to startle him and he should have asked before touching him. He honestly didn’t know what to say, staring at the man before Pigsy had managed to get his attention. Again, he apologized, saying he just didn’t expect it and that it was alright. He didn’t care as long as he wasn’t surprised again.

Something changed after that. Every morning when he woke up Tang and Pigsy made it a point to just nudge him in some way after getting his attention. A grip on his shoulder, warm and firm. A nudge on his arm. At first he tensed or flinched just like when Xiaotian or Xiaojiao touched him, but after a while he just... got used to it. Soon their gentle affection didn’t elicit any reaction and after that he realized he was starved for this kind of attention. He wanted more, not much, maybe he could stand his hair being ruffled a bit now.

And so he started to return it. He grabbed Xiaotian’s arm one day to get his attention and the look of surprise and joy on his face told Red that Pigsy and Tang must have told him something. He started sitting closer to him in the tuk-tuk, no longer pushing away when a bump made their shoulders brush together. He sat closer to Xiaojiao when they played video games or worked on blueprints for their rides. He allowed Sandy’s cats to have free reign of him (within reason) and accepted the hugs and nudges the large man had clearly been holding back from him (he was never able to initiate contact first, the other man was too touchy for him to beat him to it).

He started tapping Pigsy on the shoulder at work for his attention. He didn’t sit two seats away from Tang anymore, instead sitting right beside him.

And a few weeks later when Tang reached up to ruffle his hair the same way he did with Xiaotian he paused, looking at Red Son for permission. He nodded his head yes.

He knew why his old rival seemed to like them so much now.

[thebestofoneshots]

Christmas Times

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Prompt: In which you and Bucky have to get the Christmas tree for the compound and decorate it afterwards. Set on an AU whee Bucky joins the team before civil war happens.

Notes: Some Christmas fluff because I’m getting festive. Also Sebs new IG post inspired me I couldn’t stop myself.

Warnings: I mean reader does bump into her very mean aunt but she gets put on her place so it’s nothing you can’t handle.

You stood outside the door only a few seconds before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” You heard his husky voice from the inside of the room. So he was sleeping. He had a late mission last night you recalled, it made sense that he would still be sleeping.

You opened the door “hey! Sorry to wake you, But we need to get the Christmas tree for the common room.”

He was lying on the bed, covers on top of him but arms over them, the silver arm shinning with the small rays of sunset that slipped from the window, you could see his muscular frame. His now short hair a little messy on the pillow. “A Christmas tree? Doesn’t Tony have like a bunch of people that decorate and stuff?”

“Yes... he does. But apparently is a tradition that someone from the team buys the tree and decorates it. Said it was our turn.”

He drew a deep breath “Ok, then. I’m coming,” he smiled and stood from the bed. He was only wearing a pair of tight boxers and he turned quickly to grab his jeans so you couldn’t see much more than his muscular back, and obviously his ass, but you blushed anyway. You’d develop a small crush on the Winter Soldier since you joined the team.

“I’ll uh... wait outside,” you said and started going out.

“No, it’s fine I’m ready,” He said turning around. Still shirtless and walking to his closet to put on a shirt quickly. You turned to the side to hide your blush. Is not like you hadn’t seen him shirtless before, he went for a swim every other day. But his environment was different, it felt homier? Perhaps... “You ok?”

“What?” You asked turning your face back to him.

“You seemed... lost in thought.”

“Did I?... I didn’t notice. Shall we go?” You said skillfully changing the subject and started walking outside. “You know? I’m lucky I got paired with you to get the tree,” you spoke, a small smile appeared on his face as you did. He enjoyed spending time with you as well. “Your super soldier strength will come in super handy...”

“Is that the only reason you’re lucky? I was hoping it was because of my magnetic personality,” he joked.

“Oh, curse is not the only reason Buck,” you smiled as you playfully punched his arm.

The two of you got to the parking lot by then and grabbed the truck. You took the driver's seat since you knew the modern New York better than he did.

“Do we need to get ornaments as well?” He asked as you passed a few Christmas stores.

“Tony said he had some saved but we could buy anything we liked, every avenger has added their own special thing to the tree of something like that, that’s what makes it special,” you explained.

“When did you even talk to Tony about this? I thought he was in Europe.”

“Oh, he left a video recording and told FRIDAY to help me with whatever else.”

“There!” He said pointing outside “over there there was a very beautiful one,” he explained. You had to continue for a bit to be able to get to the other side of the road and then a bit more to find a parking spot but after a while, you finally stopped.

“I’ll follow you,” you said as you got out of the car and closed it by pressing the small button on the key. A few minutes later Bucky and you were looking at the many different trees in the garden.

“(Y/N)?” He called as you absently looked at one of the trees.

“Mhm?���

“Wouldn’t it be better if we got a plastic tree? Reuse it every year? To avoid climate change and deforestation?”

“You’ve been watching way to much Discovery channel,” you giggled “but actually, I was wondering the same thing and I googled it, apparently a plastic tree is worse unless you reuse it for more than 5 years, and it’s wasteful either way because I’ll end up on a landfill. But Tony promised he’d plant 10 pine trees for every Christmas tree used in the tower so that’s even better!”

“We should buy two then,” he said with a smile.

All right, let’s take a picture, you said as you took out your phone and posted him in front of a Christmas tree. As you were taking the picture you saw someone that made you quickly lower your head and fast walk towards Bucky to use him as a hiding spot.

“What?” He said looking around alert.

“Nothing, just. My aunt is there! I haven’t seen her in a while, and she’s just going to continue nagging me about getting a boyfriend “ you explained “so I’m just gonna, go hide for a while,” you said and quickly walked behind some trees leaving Bucky in that same spot.

As you hid in between a few trees and turned your back pretending to be really distraught by a random tree when someone taped on your shoulder. You frowned and cursed under your breath before turning with a smile.

“(Y/N)!” She smiled pulling you into a hug “I thought it was you back there.

“Aunt Linda! How’s it been?” You asked her smiling.

“Oh just fine, that’s what. I wanted to come here with your cousins but they were too busy to come. So I had to come to get the tree all by myself. What about you? Did you come alone too? I know you don’t have many friends anyway but maybe you convinced someone to help you...” she smiled.

“I... ugh—“

“—doll! I finally find you! I lost you a few trees back, I was about to tell you I found the perfect tree for home.”

“Bucky I...“

“Home?” Your aunt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Aunt Linda this is—“

“—Her boyfriend,” Bucky answered pulling one of his charming gentleman smiles from the ’40s, “you can call me James,” he stretched his arm “it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she smiled “such a handsome man! Never thought my niece would get a man like you. You’re out of her ligue.” Yes, that was Aunt Linda, poisonous words and all. And people wondered why you were hiding from her. “And to be honest, I was starting to think she was lesbian. 25 years and you’re the first one.” She finished.

You smiled “And there would be nothing wrong with me being a lesbian, would it?” you frowned. Bucky pulled you closer to him, with his flesh arm on your waist.

“Oh, of course not honey but you know, you’re already the family’s black sheep. You wouldn’t wanna make it even more evident. People would talk.”

“People like you I suppose,” spit Bucky from the side. He seemed to be getting rather angry at her. He clearly hadn’t had the brilliant opportunity to spend a whole Christmas with her and her vicious words or he’d understand she was actually being polite.

“Oh no darling, I would never, but some people on the family can be very creative, in a negative way if you know what I mean. So... how did you two meet?”

“At work.” You answered quickly, wanted to get away from there as soon as possible.

“Oh... at work...” she replied viciously, “well it’s not a surprise since you’re always working.”

“Yes, the minute she walked into the office for the first time she caught my eye. She wore a black suit and was walking alongside our boss looking like an angel. But it wasn’t until we got our first assignment together that I fell completely and utterly in love with her. With her mind and her voice and her everything. She has this way of analyzing situations and finding solutions, it’s incredible.”

You looked back at Bucky and then to your aunt who stood there with her mouth agape. You looked back at Bucky again and thought to yourself ‘damn he was a good actor. Little did you know he hadn’t been acting.

But then a busy woman walked passed really fast, pushing Bucky and casing his glove to fall on the floor. The glove that covered his metal arm.

She pulled his hand towards hers to look at it as you leaned to pick the glove up. Bucky seemed uncomfortable.

“Oh, you don’t have a hand.”

“It’s my whole arm actually,” Bucky corrected. You’d think no one would dare to say something offensive in a situation like this but there was Aunt Linda for you.

“Oh, that explains it.”

“Explains what?” You questioned.

“How such a handsome man would fall I love with you. He’s not complete. He IS on your ligue...”

And that was all it took. “You stop right there! First of all, him lacking an arm does not make him any less of a man or any less attractive. Second, he is one of the sweetest, nicest, bravest humans I know. And third of all, he is a veteran and lost his arm fighting for your country so you should show some respect!”

Your aunt looked at you perplexed. And blinked a bunch of times. “I didn’t mean to... I...”

“Aunt Linda, I didn’t—“

“—I’ll talk to your mother about this.” She said before turning around and leaving.

You and Bucky shared a look and started laughing at her offended frame as she was liked away. At first, you tried to hold it, but once she was far away enough the two of you were almost crying.

“That’s a character.”

“See why I was hiding?” You told him after taking a deep breath. Once the two of you finally cooled down, you noticed that you still had his glove on your hand. You looked at it and a free taking a deep breath you handed it to him. “I’m really sorry about that,” you said as you handed him the glove “but also thanks for stepping in and pretending to be my boyfriend. Although now the whole family is going to ask me about the mysterious James...”

“I’ll be happy to assist as your boyfriend whenever any other family member shows up,” He smiled.

“For what’s worth, I truly meant everything I said earlier. Your metal arm does not take away any of your worth Bucky,” you told him as you rubbed his flesh arm a little. There was nothing else you could do to comfort him, even knowing how delicate the subject was for him, especially it being originally made by hydra. “Anyway... did you really find a tree or were you just making that up?”

“I did!” He smiled. “Come!” He grabbed your hand to pull you through the made of trees towards the one you wanted. Once you got it, between the two of you you manage to load the tree on the truck and after a short drive stopped by a small Christmas market.

You walked along with Bucky through the beautiful Market but separated from each other when you stopped to look at some of the ornaments. You’d found a small shop that would vinyl cut whatever you wanted on a beautiful golden orb. “Hey (Y/N),” you heard as you stared at the machine from that small shop. You turned to find Bucky with a small bag in his hand. “I found the perfect ornament for you,” he said as he opened the bag and pulled a small crystal mermaid from it.

“She’s beautiful,” you said staring at it with awe. “How did you find her?”

“She was on a small store somewhere over there,” he said pointing to the right, trying to stop you from noticing he had maybe spent too much money on her because he couldn’t stop himself after seeing how perfectly fitting it would be.

“Thank you, Buck. I can’t believe you remembered I love mermaids so much...” you smiled. “Either way, I actually found something that would be perfect for you.”

“You did?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! just you wait,” you winked and walked towards the small shop you’d found and ordered a little special thing. They said it would take around 20 minutes so you went back to Bucky.

“Let’s get an ice-cream,” you said as you pulled Bucky to a small ice-cream shop and ordered a few cones.

“You have plum taste?” You asked as the small lady nodded. “Two balls of plum in one and the other chocolate and blueberry please,” you ordered with a smile.

They gave you your ice creams in just a few seconds. And you walked back to the earlier shop alongside Bucky, the ornament was ready. You paid for it and held it behind your hands to show Bucky with a surprise. “All right close your eyes.”

He did as told. And you placed the ornament on his right hand and gave it a small squeeze to indicate he could open it. He stated at it for a while. The golden ornament had a shield on it. Like Steve’s original shield but with silver and red in the center. The cold slopes through the cracks between his shield, making it look just like his new arm. “You don’t like it...” you said since he hadn’t said anything.

“Like it?” He asked in disbelieve “I love it!”

You finally let out the breath you were holding. The shopping time was finished and the two of you hoped back on the truck to drive back to the compound.

Once there, the two of you brought the tree down and place it in the center of the common room. “FRIDAY? Where are all the decorations for the tree you told me about?”

“The box is behind the counter,” Explained FRIDAY.

“Yes, it is!” Said Bucky while pulling a very big plastic box from behind the counter.

He brought the box next to the tree and the two of you started looking through the box. Finding small ornaments and guessing which one was chosen by who from the team.

The first thing you did was add all of the lights, you choose the colourful ones and started filling the tree with them. After you started placing all the different ornaments. Leaving the two new ones you had purchased for the end, just like FRIDAY had advised you too.

“It looks nice,” you said as you smiled to yourself feeling accomplished. The shiny tree looks as beautiful as ever, the lights bouncing around from one place to another.

“We still have these,” pointed Bucky out taking the ornaments that the two of you got at the market.

“You’re right!” You said as you carefully took the mermaid from his hand and stared at the tree for a place to put it in. After a few seconds, the two of you started moving but neither noticed until your hands collided. The two of you were trying to place the ornament in the same place.

“Are you imitating me?”

“No. It was just the empty branch,” he pointed “the no es empty branch.”

“Well yes, it is the emptiest spot,” you agreed “all right, this is what we’re going to do, I’ll place mine over here,” you pointed at one spot “and yours can be here,” you pointed at another one, right next to yours.

“Deal,” he said as he placed his ornament. You placed your small mermaid later and it appeared as if the mermaid was looking at Bucky’s shield. Just like in the real world, you thought to yourself. Little did you notice Bucky was the one staring at you right then and there.

“We still need to add the star,” you said getting the delicate Swarovski star from the small box, of course, Tony would have a Swarovski star.

“Oh I’m not touching that, I don’t want to break it,” he said stepping out. “Tony doesn’t have much tolerance for me anyway.”

“Don’t be silly, I can’t reach the top anyway. The tree is too tall.”

“I’m not touching it.”

“Bucky!”

“I’m not. But I can carry you,” he shrugged.

“That would be less stable than just placing it in the top,” you reasoned.

“I’ve made my mind.”

“FRIDAY, do we have a ladder?”

“No, but you could use that chair over there.”

Bucky went for the chair and brought it to you. Placing eight on the side of the tree. You tried to step on it “this is so unstable...”

“Don’t worry I’ll watch your back,” he said as he tried to keep the chair shady with his hands.

“This is ridiculous James, you could’ve just placed it without an issue.” You mumbled as you slowly placed the star on the top. But your shoelace caught onto the side of the chair and you tripped and fell.

Luckily for you, Bucky was paying attention and he quickly grabbed you from the waist to stop You from falling face-first on the floor, instead, you fell on top of him since your weight had grown the both of you on the floor.

First thing you did as soon as you gathered everything that was happening is that you removed your weight from his chest by sitting in his stomach with one leg on either side of his torso, “Can you breathe?” You asked placing your hands on his face to look for any signs of trauma.

He smiled when he noticed how concerned you were “yes I Can breathe doll, I’ve been thrown from higher placed bc way bigger men.”

“But it was a hard fall, and my weight. Could have pulled all the sir from your lungs.”

“I didn’t... no need to worry,” he smiled again.

You drew a relieved breath and smiled too. After that, you rolled off him and instead of standing up you laid on the floor next to him as well.

The tree stood majestic and tall in front of the two of you. “We did an amazing job,” you mumbled.

“It’s because we’re an amazing team,” he responded. A smile appeared on your face when you heard those words.

“We should decorate Christmas trees more often,” you giggled. “But next time you’re placing the start!”

“And miss the opportunity of having you on top of me again? No way!” He joked. The two of you laughed again.

“Thank you, Bucky!” You said then as you gave him a quick fast hug, the two of you still lying on the floor.

“What for?”

“You always make my days brighter,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He turned his whole body towards you, his steel-blue eyes staring directly into yours. “I could say the same thing, doll.”

Find more Bucky fluff over here 👈

Feedback is always appreciated ✨

[turbulentt]

Sweet Little Thing

genre: smut | yeosang x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), praise kink

event: valentine’s day prompt ask by @svt-mangos

summary: a new bakery opens at your city and you find yourself mesmerized by how amazing their cakes are, yet it’s their waiter, kang yeosang, who catches your eye first.

It was your first time going to that bakery. It had just recently opened and some of your friends told you how amazing their desserts were, you just had to try them. The looks attracted you right away. All the colors, smells, sizes. You felt like entering a wonderland. 

“Don’t just stand there.” the waiter giggled beside you “Order something.”

“But they’re so many. I can’t choose.” you drew closer to the cake showcase and hummed in confusion.

“Let me help then. Go for the strawberry angel food cake.” he points at the sugary pink cake “It’s really sweet. I think it goes well with you.”

For the first time, you look at him, in surprise by his flirt. Time seemed to stop when you locked eyes with each other. Maybe you did enter wonderland. Do wonderlands have princes? Well, this one had, and he was standing right there before you.

“Do… Do you want it?” he asked, not so flirty nor confident this time. “Want what?” you bluntly responded, not paying the minimum attention. “The cake. Do you want to taste that cake?”

“Oh, the cake right.” you free yourself from the thoughts and smile awkwardly “Sure. I’m going to sit over there. Oh and a cappuccino please.”

He smiles and leaves to prepare your order, while you just head to a table near to the window. After that encounter, you just had to sit down and recover your senses. You had never seen him before. Not in university nor anywhere in that city. You would remember if you did, certainly, such a pretty face like that is hard to forget.

Once again he approaches your table and you feel your heart rhythm fasten as if he wanted to run away. You watch him place the cake in front of you, and then your drink. Something in the way his blond hair was held by two baby blue hair clips turned him even more charming. While lost in your own world you didn’t notice how the boy looked at you too. 

“Would you like something else?” he smiles.

“No, thank you.” and it’s when he’s preparing to leave that you decide to take the first step “Actually..”

“Yes?” he gazes back at you and you can clearly see a glimpse of hope shining in his eyes. 

“I’d like to know your name,” you admit shyly but he seems to enjoy it a lot. “Kang Yeosang.” he points at his name tag and you chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t pay much attention to that.“ 

"I wonder why.” tilts his head to the side making a pensive face “Maybe you just were too distracted looking at my face." 

Your eyes widen in surprise and a hint of red grows in your cheeks. You shyly mumble an apology and Yeosang laughs sweetly. 

"Don’t be sorry. I liked it. I think you were too distracted to even realize I was looking at you the same way.” he smiles. 

His confidence seemed to have boosted and you couldn’t help but smile at his statement. That means something, right? Because you could really kiss his beautiful lips right that instant. 

“I hope you enjoy your food.” he suddenly goes back to his waiter state and points at the cappuccino “I hope you like that cappuccino. It comes with a surprise." 

You look at him in confusion and Yeosang just waves as he walks away. What did he mean by surprise? Did he put something in the drink? How lucky could you be to meet a nice handsome boy yet he would just drug you? Too many scenarios. Maybe there really is a good surprise. 

Warily you just take a sip of the drink, which seems to be fairly normal. Shaking your thoughts away, you just have a normal meal, being delighted by how heavenly that cake tastes. Your friends were right. You could feel how much love the baker had put into it. 

When finished, you decided to send a pic to your friends, along with a long review paragraph of how you would definitely be back to taste more of their cakes. Between the many replies you got, one of them caught your eye. 

"What is that black stuff written on the cappuccino cup?" 

You immediately looked at the cup and saw a couple of lines coming from under the bakery label. Curiously you rip the little sticker off, only to show a cell phone number and the ‘KY’ letters under it. Of course, it meant Kang Yeosang and it obviously was his number, but your mind couldn’t really process the fact that the cute waiter that had just flirted with you gave you his number. 

So, after that day, besides being at the bakery most days you also texted Yeosang frequently. Both of you really enjoyed the talks you had on the phone throughout the entire dawn and, for some odd reason, Yeosang made you feel wanted. More than you had ever been.

Apart from the hours-long phone calls and your routine visits to the bakery, you two didn’t really see each other often, it could be because you don’t study in the same university, or just for the fact that you haven’t had the guts to ask him out on a date. But neither does he, well, until one day.

“Here’s your order.” he happily rushes to your table setting down the food “I have one thing to ask you.”

Taking a bite to the piece of cake you sign for him to keep talking. Curiously Yeosang had developed a way of talking to you that made you blush every two words. He would either finish his sentences with pick up lines or just softly compliment you. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it, all his words boosted your ego, but you never knew how to respond and he would just stare at you, with a victorious smirk on his face, waiting for a response.

“Go on a date with me. This Saturday,” he said it so easily yet you were almost choking on your food. “A what?�� you mumbled between coffs. “You heard me.” he chuckled “I’ve been meaning to ask but it never seems to be the right time. But I’m taking my chance with the pretty girl now.” 

“You sound like a true gentleman.” you smile, awkwardly trying to hide your blushed cheeks “And where are we going?”

“Oh, that’s a surprise. Just meet me here. I leave at six so we can go together, okay?” 

“Seems good. I’ll wait excitedly for it.” you smile and once again he resumes his work.

Saturday didn’t take much time to come. The week seemed to fly just for you to have your so awaited date. You still visited the bakery every day after university, but the thought of the two of you finally being able to hang out together was driving you nuts. So, on Saturday, there you were, munching something to make time for Yeosang to leave his shift. 

Half an hour before, he was already looking enthusiastic passing through your table every five minutes telling you how he was almost leaving. You could only laugh at his cuteness. 

You were waiting outside by the door when his shift finally ends and you only now got to see in person how good looking Yeosang is without his uniform. Not that it really matters, but his style surely helps, especially when he’s wearing a leather jacket.

“You look good.” you shyly admit referring to his clothing. “Thanks. But, don’t I always look good?” he teases you and you just decide not to fight back. “Anyway, where are we going?” 

“We are going to my house.” he takes you by the hand guiding you to his car. “To your house?” you look a bit taken back by his words but he quickly eases you. “You told me once that you wanted to learn how to bake some of the cakes we have at the bakery so I thought it would be a good idea to teach you,” Yeosang explains as you both enter the car “I would do it at the bakery but my boss didn’t allow me. Since I have all the tools and ingredients at my house I figured it’d do. I hope you don’t mind, we can do something else if you want.”

“No!” you cut him off quickly “Baking seems like a fun first date.” 

It didn’t take long to arrive at his place and you sure got surprised by how tidy and clean Yeosang is. Yet he doesn’t seem to be the only one living there, due to the number of jackets on the hall hanger.

“Do you share the house?” you curiously question while roaming around the living room, feeling the nice fruity smell it holds. “I do, with seven of my friends. But they’re not here today, I told them I wanted privacy.” he chuckled at his own words and guided you by the hand to the kitchen. It was starting to become a habit, holding your hand and leading you. Not that you were complaining, he has really soft and warms hands.

All of the utensils and ingredients were already set on the table which meant he had prepared it all before going to work. Realizing that, you looked at Yeosang with the most loving eyes, like you were falling in love with him. Perhaps you really were.

“What?” he smiles taking off his jacket and replacing it with his apron, giving you one right after “Are you falling for me already?”

“Let’s cook.” you cut him off and he laughs at your embarrassment. “Ok, let’s start.”

Saying it was an easy task would be a lie because Yeosang wasn’t properly the best teacher. He would simply skip some steps and not tell you what it was supposed to be done and then just laugh at your pouty expression. He would also grab your arms to explain to you how you were supposed to beat the eggs or mold the fondant, it drove you insane. 

“Ok, now, carefully, put it in the oven,” he instructed and you did as told. “Are you sure I did a good job?” you asked while closing the oven’s door but you didn’t get a reply “Yeosang?”

As soon as you turn to face him your face is hit with a good amount of flour, much of it going inside of your mouth. “You’re dead,” you say playfully taking the bag of flour from his hands and throwing some on his face. And right at that instant, a war started. You ran around the table with Yeosang chasing you, both of you giggling like little children and spilling flour everywhere. You were so distracted running around that you didn’t even notice him right in front of you with his arms open, ready to catch you.

“Gotcha.” he happily sings after grabbing you in his arms. The problem was how close you two got at that moment. Both your noses rubbing each other and you could swear he was able to listen to your unsteady heartbeats. His eyes trailed up and down, switching between your eyes and your mouth.

“Can I kiss you?” that’s all he asks yet you felt like fainting. You didn’t give him a proper answer, confirming with a head gesture was enough. His lips tasted like flour, which was sort of inconvenient, but you could still taste his sweetness and feel his warmth. Yeosang didn’t rush it, it was indeed the most loving and deep kiss you have ever had and it made you feel out of this world. 

When he parted his lips from yours you whined lowly, you wanted more, a lot more. He surely noticed how your expression changed and grabbed your hips to draw you closer to his body. Your legs got shaky and he smirked.

“Did I just make you wet with just one kiss, sweetheart?” 

If the kiss didn’t make you, which was highly unlikely, the way his eyes darken as he said that sure did. You just looked away from him embarrassed, he has such a strong gaze, so hard to resist. Yeosang rubbed his finger on your cheek cleaning some of the flour that still covered you and leaned closer.

“We should really take a shower. What do you think?” he whispers right by your ear and his words slide quickly down to your core. “Together?” you ask innocently, obviously you knew the answer. “Of course, sweetheart. Unless you don’t want to, I’m fine with that.”

You smiled at him, touched by his gentle preoccupation with getting consent. “I would really love that.” you take the opportunity to kiss his lips again, a bit more hungrily this time. Yeosang lifted your body up, and so he carried you to the bathroom, rather clumsily since he was more focused on giving your lips attention. You giggled when he just kicked the door desperately, he was really eager to have you. 

“Yeosang, put me down.” you laughed as he started to kiss your neck “I can’t shower with clothes.”

“Oh.” he laughed awkwardly and let you down to your feet, only to grab you again “I’ll take care of that.”

Every one of his moves was gentle, soft, and warm and you enjoyed every single one. It didn’t take long for him to be on his knees and face to face with your clothed core. His eyes widened at the dark wet spot on your underwear.

“You’re this wet just for me?” his finger met the stain and you whined softly. “Don’t make those embarrassing questions…”

“You’re so shy.” he chuckles. His breath comes closer to your core and your hands instantly move to his hair. Not so gently now he removes your underwear and, with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen, he lets his tongue travel between your folds. “And you taste you sweet.” his hands grab your thighs firmly to spread them more, giving him more access to play with you.

Small moans start to fall from your lips and it only fuels Yeosang’s ego. His tongue finally meets your desperate aching clit and you shake at how good it felt. He knew exactly what he was doing, playing with it at a steady pace yet sending shivers down your entire body. One of his hands releases your thighs and slowly travels to between your shaky legs. 

“You’re so good for me. So beautiful.” he hums into your core “I can’t get enough of your sweet moans, baby.”

You gasp loudly when you feel two of his fingers slide inside you and coming out again. Your eyes meet Yeosang’s and you can feel how satisfied he is by eating you out like that, but the bulge in his pants started to hurt every second he didn’t give it attention.

His fingers thrust into your wetness again and he starts moving them quickly and steady as his lips are busy sucking and playing with your sensitive clit.

“Yeosang… I’m going to cum,” you mumble between pants, your head was thrown back and your breath completely unsteady. He knew you wouldn’t last longer too, that’s why he decided to stop. Before you could cum he took his fingers out and moved his mouth away from you. You whine at the sudden emptiness and look at him unsatisfied.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” he says playfully as he stands up and starts to undress “I can’t let you cum just now.”

“Why?” you ask, quite lost on his body, devouring him with your eyes. “I want to look you in the eyes and make you mine.” 

Your expression softens as you hear his words and he turns to turn the shower on. “Come, sweetie. I want to make my pretty little baby feel good a bit more.” he reaches out his hand to pull you to under the shower “And, of course, I want to hear how good you sound once I make you cum.”

His words hit the pitch of your stomach and you take no time in kissing him feverishly. You two weren’t going to play any games now, both of you needed release so much that it hurt.

While one of his hands roamed through your body, the other one was busy giving a few pumps to his needy cock. Yeosang grunted in between the kiss and it was the sexiest sound you have ever heard. You grabbed his face with both of your hands and locked eyes with him. “Yeosang, please…”

It only took you one plea to make him do as told. Without ever taking his eyes from yours he carefully slid inside you. He held himself onto the cold tiles of the bathroom wall and waited for you to give him permission to move. Taking a look down he saw the way his cock fitted perfectly inside you and grunted with satisfaction.

“Fuck, you take me so well.” his thumb caresses your lower lip “And you feel so good.”

You can only smile at his words, giving him a sign to start moving. And so he does. Unhurried he slides almost completely out of you, only to sink deep once again. And as he promised he was looking right into your eyes as he made you his’. Every hard thrust seemed much more intense with the two of you looking eye to eye and moaning each other’s names uncontrollably. The water just dripped from your bodies, taking with it all the sweat, and muffling the erotic sounds your skin made as they met each other with every thrust.

“Can you cum for me now, baby?” his words came one by one between his pants “Because I will.”

You shake your head as you felt the heat rush through your body. Your walls started to feel tighter around his cock and Yeosang was a mess just by the feeling of you clenching around him. You felt him throb him inside you and just couldn’t contain yourself anymore.

With a loud moan, you came undone on his cock and fell on Yeosang’s arms as he pulled out of you and came on his own hand. He held you close to him and played with your hair until you recovered your senses and were finally able to stand up.

“Now we should really take a shower.” he laughs and you join him.

Like the gentlemen he is, Yeosang made sure you were all cleaned, from the flour and the cum, and his aftercare actually felt really good.

As you both were stepping out of the shower something in your head clicks and you look at him. 

“The cake!” it was most likely all burnt by now.

[aroseandapen]

{Don’t go asking to be a horror movie protagonist when you’re terrified of ghosts}

For the @badthingshappenbingo; prompt: caught in a storm

A sudden storm drives Kaito to seek shelter. Nothing unusual could ever happen in an abandoned house. Ghost AU.

Warnings: Past Suicide

Drizzle turned into downpour, with whipping winds throwing sheets of freezing water directly into his face. Kaito pulled the side of his jacket up as a shield, but it quickly soaked through. His eyes stung, bringing tears in defense of the painful wind.

He didn’t think he’d make it home like this.

Quickly he scanned the street, hoping for an overhang to huddle underneath until the worst of the storm passed. Miraculously, he saw a vacant house tucked between two others, the wind having blown the door open to flap against the elements like it was waving him in. Really, it would be rude of him not to take the invitation the gods offered up to him. Technically it might be trespassing, but what was the law of man against the powers that be.

He could hardly see anyway with how ferociously the wind kicked water up directly into his eyes. Surely no one would denounce him for popping into a house for shelter for an hour at most, especially when no one else was using it.

Squinting against the rain and wind, he jogged up the walkway, forcing the front door shut behind him and dragging the deadbolt into place so that the wind couldn’t blow it back open.

Immediate relief washed over him. The wood groaned and glass panes rattled under each gust that buffeted the side of the house, but it was safer and warmer compared to being outside. His clothes and hair dripped into the entryway. Too bad there probably weren’t any towels left in this vacant place; he could really use one right now.

The small entryway opened up into a large area, ornate stairs directly in front of him leading up to the next floor, double doors to the left and the right that were cracked open. A smaller door was tucked half out of sight by the stairs. He opened it, hoping that it was a closet that contained at least one bit of fabric he could use to dry off. Fortunately, it actually was a closet. Less fortunately, there was nothing inside.

Kaito sighed. Dammit. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed. He shrugged off his jacket and peeled off his shirt, hanging both over the handrail lining the stairs after wringing them out. His exposed chest left him shivering somewhat in the large drafty house, but it was better than dragging around soaking fabric that hung heavy over him the entire time. And while there was no hope of them drying before he left this place again, at least it might be a bit better by the time he had to put them back on.

He lingered by his hanging shirt and jacket for a moment to consider his next move. Nothing really to do now, he supposed, but to explore the house for a while, right?

First he swept the lower floor, peeking into wide rooms occupied by worn furniture--the odds and ends left behind by the final owner’s evacuation. A chair knocked over in one corner had spiders weaving their webs between the legs and the floor. The kitchen had a fold-up table leaning against the wall, but it’d been bent out of shape in such a way that Kaito wondered how the hell it’d stood on its side in the time since it’d been abandoned.

One room in particular was crammed wall to wall in junk, so that when he pushed the door, it would only open a couple inches before getting stuck. A storage room, evidently, but he couldn’t tell for what reason and why it’d been left behind. Unable to get in to sift through the stuff in the room, there was nothing of interest on the ground floor for him.

Kaito stepped back, hand on the door handle to close it. Just then the wind outside picked up, whistling through the tiny cracks in the house. The door slammed shut, no input from him.

He jumped back, heart rolling into his throat. A chill ran down his spine, hairs sticking up on the back of his neck. Probably just uneven air pressure from the wind, he figured, but that didn’t make it any less damn creepy. Like something lurking in the house didn’t want him in that room.

Which was dumb. Silly. Nothing--nobody--was in the house but Kaito. Maybe a homeless guy or two, although he hadn’t seen evidence that anyone had been in this place recently, but still nothing supernatural.

Yeah. He had goosebumps now for absolutely no reason.

And for no reason at all, he sped-walked down the hallway to return to the staircase. His skin prickled with his back to the door, but he refused to look back. As he lingered by his hanging clothes, he was suddenly reminded of the many scary movies that took place in an abandoned house in the middle of a storm.

Tree branches slapped against the side of the house, screeching along the glass window panes. He jumped.

“Dammit. Get yourself together, man,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. Something about the sound of his own voice filling the void of the house made him feel a bit more secure. Enough so that he could finally take the next step, heading up the stairs to check out the top floor of the house.

He opened up the first room, and nearly slammed the door shut again in pure shock. It was a child’s room, practically untouched. Dust covered every inch of furniture--a small bed with the corners still tucked under the mattress, a desk, a tiny chest in the corner. He couldn’t imagine how it was still there, why it’d been left behind. His heart wrenched with dread. Nothing good could come from this room, left behind to be forgotten with the rest of the house empty. 

Slowly, he closed the door. It didn’t feel right to wander into some kid’s room, even if it had been abandoned for however long. This adventure felt less fun by the room. He moved onto the next door down, dragging his feet heavily across the floor.

He opened the door, noticed two things: the room was almost a perfect mirror of the previous, and a torn racoon plush was slumped against the leg of the bed.

A face popped in front of his eyes.

Kaito screamed.

He pinwheeled his arms and scuttled back. His head slammed into the wall in his rush to escape. The face briefly retreated, then surged forward again.

“Wait, you--.”

A person, it was a fucking person speaking to him, transparent and floating inches above the ground. A ghost, right in front of him.

Kaito ducked and twisted his body. He dug his toes into the floor and sprinted down the hall for the stairs. Even without looking behind him, he could sense the ghost in hot pursuit. Outside the wind howled, rain pelting the house.

He’d take a full hurricane, plus an earthquake, before he dealt with a ghost.

“Don’t!” it called, voice thin and bouncing off the walls as if the sound, too, was chasing him.

Flying down the stairs, he full-body slammed into the front door so hard that he bounced off it. He staggered back, but he didn’t bother to right himself before he threw himself at it again. The knob turned easily and he yanked on it.

The door creaked and clattered in the frame, but did not open. Kaito choked on his heart.

“Fuck, no, come on, come on!”

He pushed and pulled, jerking the door to force it open. No matter what he did, though, it wouldn’t budge. Was it the storm? The ghostly figure whistling down the stairs after him now? Was he trapped in this abandoned house he’d recklessly taken shelter in?

“Fuck!” The door was no good. His eyes darted along the wall, searching for an alternate route. A screech that hurt his ears and teeth drew his attention over to where the branches outside scraped against the window. The window!

He made a mad dash for it, bulldozing ahead with all intentions of crashing out through it. A misstep, though, twisted his ankle and brought him tumbling to the floor. His head cracked against the floorboards and stars burst in his vision. He hissed in pain, the room spinning around him. Stunned, he could barely move when the half-there figure once again swam into view.

“A-are you ok? Oh no, please don’t be…” The face grimaced. His eyes darted around, looking for something. Then, as if realizing he could do nothing even if he found what he was looking for, regret filled the ghostly features. “Take it easy ok? Hang in there.”

Kaito blinked rapidly. His head throbbed with each bat of his lashes. “Gh…” He brought a hand to his forehead. “What the hell… are you?”

Hurt flooded his expression. “I’m…” Face pinched, he looked away and crossed his arms. Something was vaguely familiar about his appearance, especially when he posed like that. “I mean… you can tell, can’t you? That’s why you...”

That was why he ran.

“...you got hurt.”

“Wait, what?” Despite the ghost’s urgings for him to take it easy, Kaito forced himself to sit up. The ghost, as if startled, drew chillingly close to him, hands hovering over Kaito’s shoulder. When he flinched, the ghost withdrew. He blew out a relieved sigh. “Of course I got hurt. You were chasing me.”

“I wasn’t.” The ghost pouted. “You were just running…” His face twitched uncomfortably. “Ok I guess that is chasing, but… I wasn’t gonna do anything.”

“You locked me in!” Kaito protested with a burst of anger. He staggered to his feet. “You made the door jam shut, how the hell am I supposed to take that?!”

A flash of irritation twisted the ghost’s expression. “I didn’t! You’re the one who locked the door when you came in here!”

The faint memory of sliding the deadbolt to keep the door from blowing back open scratched the back of his mind. The angry fire in Kaito’s gut immediately extinguished. “Oh… right.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Who’re you supposed to be anyway? What do you want with me?”

“I’m Kurochi; I don’t want anything with you. You’re the one who came into my house. Or… the house I grew up in, I guess… So who are you?” Kurochi ended with a question, his tone defensive.

“Kaito. It’s raining outside and this place was abandoned, so…” He shrugged. For some reason he felt guilty, but he didn’t know why he should. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t expect the place to be literally haunted by some kid. “How old are you?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know, probably same age as you? It’s been… a long time.”

“So when did you...?” he blurted out the question, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth. He was asking about an actual person’s death here; he wouldn’t be surprised if Kurochi grew furious because of it.

The ghost didn’t. His face did fall, however, eyes dropping to the floor. “I… died when I was twelve. So… I don’t know. It’s been years since then, though.”

“You don’t look twelve.” Even if Kurochi would have been the same age as him, if he died at such a young age he should have looked the part. Although Kurochi did have a young face, it wasn’t as if he looked like a child.

Kurochi only shrugged. “I don’t really know what I look like. Mirrors don’t exactly work when you’re…” He gestured toward his incorporeal body. “I have a twin brother, though. Maybe I look like he does now.”

Suddenly Kaito realized just why Kurochi had looked so familiar to him before. “Wait! I think I know… what’s your full name?”

“Oshi…” Kurochi started, then stopped. He looked physically pained before he shook his head and quickly changed the name he was about to give. “Ouma. That was my mother’s family name, that’s what… we wanted before…”

Kaito’s eyes bugged. The pieces fit too well to be a coincidence.

“Wait, was your brother named Kokichi?” Kaito could see his classmate in the ghost’s (transparent) features. It wasn’t exact, but the resemblance was enough to be uncanny.

He’d never seen quite a mixture of shock, hope, and horror in a person before like he saw in Kurochi’s face the moment the question left his lips. A tremor ran through Kurochi; he pulled in so close to Kaito that he could feel his own body heat being sapped from him by the chill of Kurochi’s form. Kaito backed up, unnerved and trying to get some space, but Kurochi only closed it again.

“Yes! You’ve seen him? Is he ok? He’s ok, right? He’s safe? Right?”

The anxious questions tumbled out in a rush. Kurochi seemed to shimmer, the anticipation practically leaking out of his body. Part of Kaito regretted saying anything, but that was overwritten by the overwhelming relief that he had some good news to tell.

“Yes. He’s ok. A little shit sometimes, but he’s good as far as I can tell.” Which probably wasn’t saying much; Kaito had the feeling that Kokichi hid a great deal beneath his wide grin and clowning behavior. It was blatant now, considering he’d never heard of a twin brother who’d died when he was twelve. “We’re classmates now.”

Kurochi melted to the floor, almost passing through it as he sunk in his deep relief. “He’s safe… he’s good, thank god…”

He held a hand over his chest, where his heart would be if he still had one.

“What I wouldn’t give to see him again…”

Well, that was a wish well within Kaito’s ability to grant. “Do you want to? I can bring him here for you.”

“No! No, no, no, don’t you dare!” Kurochi shrieked, making Kaito jump and fumble back.

The vehement reaction to the negative shocked Kaito. “What? Why not? You just said you wanted to see him, right?”

Tremors ran through Kurochi. He hunched his shoulders, tucking his chin down as if to hide himself from Kaito’s gaze. With a tiny, quick movement, he shook his head and said, “I… don’t want to put that burden on him. If he’s started to get over my death, I want it to stay that way. If you brought him here… I don’t think he even will move on.” His bottom lip trembled; Kurochi closed his eyes. “I can’t handle that. I already left him behind, I can’t… I can’t…”

Despite the innate fear he had of the ghost, the pathetic wobble of Kurochi’s voice pulled on Kaito’s heartstrings. He stepped forward, raising a hand as if to rest it comfortingly on his shoulder. Just before he made contact, he remembered that it wasn’t possible to touch him, and he quickly pulled his hand away. Trying and failing to touch Kurochi would probably only make the ghost feel worse. “Hey, it’s not your fault you died…”

Big watery eyes met his, but the tears never fell. “It is… I… I… when we were twelve, I just couldn’t…”

Shame forced Kurochi’s gaze back down and he trailed off without explaining. He didn’t need to, Kaito understood without him being explicit about it. Kaito swallowed hard.

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry you felt that way. That the only way to escape whatever the hell you went through was… that. I know I just met you, and tried to run away from you and all, but… no kid deserves to feel that way. No one does,” he said, solemnity muting his tone.

Kurochi near-smiled at his heartfelt sympathy. It didn’t quite lift his expression, but there was something appreciative deep in those eyes. “Thanks. I just… wish I never put Kokichi through that though. I… ruined everything.”

No, that wasn’t his fault. Kaito didn’t know much about his--and by extension, Kokichi’s--childhood, but regardless, it wasn’t a twelve-year-old’s fault if he was so overwhelmed by the pain in his life that he killed himself. Boiling heat stirred in his chest, anger at the injustice rising on Kurochi’s behalf. He was just a child. He deserved so much better than life had given him back then--up until now, too, living as a ghost alone in this abandoned house, not a soul to talk to.

Kaito decided then: he would give him that. While he couldn’t fix the past, he could be that bond Kurochi needed to help him work through what happened to him. He couldn’t bring him back to life, but he could help Kurochi move on. Whatever ‘moving on’ meant for a ghost.

“You didn’t ruin shit--and I’ll show you, too! After this storm passes… I’ll be back tomorrow! And probably the day after that, or next week even! And the week after too!”

Kurochi stared, bemused. And yet--though perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part--Kaito thought he saw something hopeful sparking deep in those hollow eyes. “You’ll… but why?”

“To hang out with you, what else?”

Kurochi choked--or maybe he snorted--shaking his head hard. “No I get that, but… why?”

“Because…” Kaito planted his fists on his hips. “...everyone deserves at least someone at their side, right? And if you don’t want me telling Kokichi about you, I’ll just have to keep you company myself then!”

[benkouji726]

Written for alexweek2020. Sequel to “Settled”, but can also be read as one-off. ...I think.

Anyways, “Settled” is based on meet ugly prompt 2: I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.

Spoiler alert: they ended up living together! And none of them are aliens! Jesse died in the previous work, so all is well...ish.

Home can be a person

They’d been living together for a month now, and Alex still knew nothing about Michael Guerin.

OK that wasn’t entirely true. He knew plenty. Because one, he was a military man, his livelihood depended on his observation skills. And two, their schedules somehow synced perfectly, and after a week of awkwardly bumping each other in the kitchen and waiting turns to use the bathroom, it was simply easier if they just worked out a systematic plan to build their lives around each other, which led to divided chores, respected bathroom routines and shared meals. And when two men spent that much time together, they had no choice but to have conversations, which were really not that hard, because they clicked like magnets and they actually enjoyed spending time together.

So Alex knew plenty. Both from his observations and their conversations. But it was not like Guerin volunteered personal informations, and even he did, it was always surface stuff, so it didn’t really count. Like he knew Guerin was a mechanic, who was really good at his job. So good that he even opened his own auto shop the second year into the business. And based on what Alex saw, money was not exactly an issue for him. Which frankly didn’t match up with his squatting life style, not to mention he owned a perfectly functional airstream, but that topic was always brushed aside.

Alex also knew Guerin had two siblings, who moved away a year ago. They were both married, and apparently lived nearly enough that they did a weekly get together. Guerin would join them via FaceTime, they would laugh and talk, and Guerin seemed so happy when they did this, which did not explain why he was always a little sad when they were done. But again, not to be talked about.

Sometimes Alex would be impressed by Guerin’s topic changing skills. Granted, his go-to move was more often than not flirtation, but it worked like a charm on Alex, so whatever got the job done, right? And rationally, Alex knew he should be grateful, because Guerin was a surprisingly pleasant roommate. He was good company, he wasn’t nosy, he did VERY good repair work around the house, his cooking skills were better than Alex’s, and he slowly became the reason why Alex was looking forward to going back home after a day’s work. And truth be told, Alex wasn’t exactly an open book himself, so he should just respect Guerin’s boundaries and enjoy their easygoing companionship.

But he just couldn’t.

34 days into their co-living arrangement, Guerin came home, visibly upset. It was Alex’s day to make dinner. So he ignored Guerin at first to finish the lasagna. But when he was putting together a cob salad, he heard Guerin throw his tool box on to the floor, and caused a loud clang.

Guerin NEVER threw his tool box.

“What’s got into you today?” OK that was a little harsh. But in his defense, Alex was kind of tired of asking “are you ok” at that point, because he always got a “just dandy” and a too-big-to-be-genuine smile in reply.

Guerin shut down immediately, threw on a well-practiced smirk, and said: “Nothing. Unless you are up for the job?”

And just like that, Alex snapped.

He got up, got his keys, and left the house.

It was when he sat in his car, had no idea where he’d go, he realized that he didn’t even bring his wallet and phone, which was just stupid.

The whole thing was stupid.

He knew he had no right to feel angry and hurt. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Guerin didn’t owe him anything.

But he had felt their connection the first time they’d met, and it was there ever since. He thought Guerin felt it too.

Apparently he was wrong.

He came back two hours later, because he needed that time to work out an apology and also to learn not to be this naive again. When he got home, Guerin was sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly lost in his thoughts, lasagna in front of him, cold and forgotten.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, it was really none of my busi...” He began but was cut by Guerin mid-sentence.

“I didn’t eat”.

“...OK? Were u not hungry or was the lasagna that bad?”

Guerin looked up at him then. His eyes big, voice raw.

“I didn’t eat because it felt wrong.”

He looked back down at the lasagna.

“After you left, I was angry at first. Because fuck you, you know? I don’t owe you anything.”

“Yes, Guerin, I know, I was trying to apologize...”

Guerin continued as if not heard him at all.

“And then I got up to help me some food, man’s gotta eat, and frankly, lasagna is like, the only food you can make right. So I got myself a plate, and I sat down. Normally at that point, you would begin to nag me about eating some salad or drinking some water first, but then I looked up, and you were just, not there.”

He looked up again. All open and bare.

“So yeah, maybe it was not your business, but it was also wrong of me to assume I didn’t want it to be.”

They stared at each other. Both at lost what to say next. Eventually, Alex sat across the table, reached out, and squeezed Guerin’s hand.

“You reheat the lasagna, I’ll finish making the salad. And we’ll eat. OK? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, you didn’t even bring your wallet. I mean, dramatic much?”

“Shut up, Guerin.”

They didn’t talk about why Guerin was upset that night, but it was OK.

—————————

Things got better after that. They talked now, not just making conversation. Alex learned that Guerin had been in the system for a long time. His siblings, Max and Isobel, were actually not related to him. They had been just best friends in group homes, until they were adopted by the Evans, while Guerin went through many terrible foster families. They were united at the age of 15, when Guerin’s new foster home brought him to Roswell, and they had been inseparable ever since.

“That was, until Max decided to marry someone in LA, and moved there. And then Isobel’s husband also got a job in LA, they moved soon after. So it was just the same old me, again.”

They were at the fire pit in front of Guerin’s airstream, which he still wasn’t using, except sometimes he would go in there and do God knows what, they still didn’t reach the subject why he had been squatting yet. Alex suspected it had something to do with his issues with his siblings moving away, like the bitterness in his voice now had.

“Well, you’re literally sitting next to me now, so not exactly the same, you know?”

Guerin startled, and looked over at Alex with something like hope mixed with fear in his eyes. Alex stared right back, because at this point, he really wasn’t interested in pretending that they didn’t mean something to each other. And he hoped Guerin would drop the “I’m a lone wolf and I don’t care” act too, at least when he was with him.

Whatever Guerin saw on his face, seemed to satisfy him. He smiled, the kind of smile that reached his heart and soul, and said,

“You trying to hold my hand now, private?”

And they did.

—————————

Alex woke up in screaming. Next thing he knew, he was in Guerin’s arms.

He didn’t remember the dream. But he could easily guess the content. It was always the same. Bomb, blood, cries, he looked down, his leg was gone. Sometimes his father was there, sometimes he wasn’t. Either way, he felt his presence.

Normally, after he woke up from such a dream, he would do some breath exercise, get up, get some water, and didn’t even try to sleep again. But tonight, Guerin was right there, humming something like a lullaby, and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t say anything, or ask how he was doing, just held him and gently rocked him.

At some point, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, they lied down, together on Alex’s bed. Guerin’s hand slowly reached down, until he touched his stump. He rubbed it once, twice, and then he just stayed there.

Alex fell sleep.

——————————

Friday movie nights became some sort of tradition between them. They would finish their work, meet at the house, grab something to eat, and then drive to the drive-in theatre. Alex liked those nights, hell, he cherished those nights.

So he was very irritated when some shitty client just didn’t know what it meant to demand something WITHIN REASON, and he had to cancel their movie night via a short text. He was even more irritated when said client walked out in the last minute, so his previous work was totally wasted. Plus his new prosthetic was giving him trouble all day. Safe to say he was not in the greatest mood.

When he got home though, he was met by Guerin’s soft smile and homemade dinner. By the time they finished eating, he felt more or less like human again. Then Guerin gave him a dessert, told him to rest a bit on the sofa, and disappeared in the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he pulled Alex into the bathroom, where he already drew a bath for Alex.

He even lit some candles.

All of a sudden, Alex wanted to cry, except he hadn’t cried in ten years.

So he let out a shaky breath, buried himself in Guerin’s arms, and asked a stupid question.

“Why did you do all this?”

Guerin held him, shifted somewhat awkwardly, and said in a quiet voice.

“You spelled ‘bail’ wrong.”

Of all the answers, THAT was not what Alex expected.

“What?”

“Your text. I guess you meant to say you had to bail on our movie night. But you spelled it ‘ball’. Auto correct or something. And you never spelled wrong. So I figured, you must be exhausted.”

At that, Alex just HAD to kiss him.

—————————

They visited Greg together on a Saturday morning.

At the drive home, Alex was awfully quiet.

Michael didn’t ask. He made coffee. He fetched a blanket. He sat beside Alex on the sofa, and began to read his monthly mechanic magazine.

Alex talked before he decided he wanted to.

“My father was a piece of shit. And out of my three brothers, Greg is the only decent one. But when we were kids, he didn’t know how to protect me or stand up for me, when my father beat the shit out of me.”

Michael dropped his magazine, and silently held his hand. And Alex decided he wanted to keep talking.

“I wanted to make music. He sent me to war. Frankly, war wasn’t even a worse choice than my so called home. It just wasn’t a better choice either.”

“I never felt I belong anywhere, not at home. Not at war. I bought the house because Greg asked me to, because he was the only one who reminded me a shred of the ‘home’ concept. But today, seeing him with his family, I realized, he is my family, but he is not home.”

“I still don’t belong.”

He hadn’t cried for ten years. He didn’t want to begin now.

Expect the hands wiping his tears were so gentle, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I was offered a great job opportunity in New York, when I finished my study at UNM. But four years apart from Max and Isobel were tough enough that I decided to ditch that and move back.”

“I never felt I belonged, too, what with the fucked up system and shitty foster homes, except when I was with them. So I clung to them, a little bit desperately. When they moved away, I felt betrayed, left out and abandoned. I didn’t want to live in my airstream anymore because it felt like a fantasy I built, just to fool myself into thinking I could have followed them anywhere in it, because they were my harbor. But then they were gone, so I decided I wasn’t supposed to settle in anywhere, and that’s when I began to squat in people’s not lived in houses. Because they are just like me, you know, abandoned.”

“Until you invited me to live with you.”

They held each other a long time after that.

—————————

The email came on a Wednesday morning, and Michael was on the plane that very night to LA, because Liz was going into labor and Michael would become an uncle.

He asked Alex to come with him, but he was caught up at work so he just couldn’t make it.

They called each other every day though, Michael showed him so many baby pictures he even dreamed about it one night. He was vibrating joyful energy and Alex was happy for him.

Then on the fourth night since he was gone, he called Alex, hesitation evident in his voice.

“Liz pulled some strings at her university. And they offered me a job here.” He said, without so much as a hello.

Alex felt the world shook for a moment. Then he blinked, and the house seemed the same, intact, but somehow much quieter, and larger.

“I’m happy for you.”

An exhale.

“You are happy for me.” Michael repeated, slowly.

Alex shut his eyes. He thought of all the times Michael looked at the photos of the three of them, and all the times he seemed to be lost after he ended their phone calls, and he opened his eyes again.

“They are your family.” He said simply.

Another exhale.

“Yeah, they are.”

Silence.

After three minutes of nothing else, Alex hung up.

——————————

Michael came back on Tuesday afternoon.

Alex had not been sleeping well, or eating properly, so at first he thought he might be dreaming or something.

But there he was, clearly not been sleeping well, or eating properly himself, eyes glaring with fond anger.

“You are a dumbass, you know? You’re just gonna give me up like that?”

Alex refused to back down.

“It’s not giving up. You always wanted a family, a home. I don’t wanna stand between you and your opportunity of that.”

Michael shook his head, sighed, and pulled Alex into his arms.

“You still don’t understand, do you? They are my family, true. But YOU are my home.”

And there, stood in his embrace, Alex finally understood.

[zoessecretjournal]

Monday, April 19th, 2021

Today was a great day! I didn’t sleep so well despite the full on beach day we had the day before. It was Taylor’s last day here, unfortunately we really only got to say goodbye today as I was leaving at 11am this morning to meet up with Ryan. I let her sleep in my bed and she gave a groggy goodbye as my Lyft approached the apt. On the way to Ryan’s I listened to Shygirl and started out the window, trying to stay cool. It was the first time I would see him since all of our serious talks, and he had been spending the weekend trying to help Kathleen get to LAX (she mixed up the dates apparently) so I expected him to be tired. I got there around 11:30 am, dressed in my chartreuse green baby doll dress with a white soft tee underneath. My gold earrings, white tennis shoes and gold lobster broach as accessories, and a natural style face. When he came to collect me from outside he certainly looked tired, but happy to see me. When inside, he complimented the color of my dress and drew in to kiss me, and then he held me for a long while. He genuinely gives really good and meaningful hugs.

As soon as I sit down on the couch he plops his head on my lap, wanting me to scratch his head. I tell him he’s just like a cat and he gives me a look to suggest “so?” in a cute way. Whenever I scratch his head, he always ends up doing it to me at the same time, as well as using his other free hand to hold mine or touch me in some way. We stay this way, catching long gazes at each other intermittently, for about half an hour. He asks me about my Hinge profile and how I must have a line of suitors. I tell him about my date with Daniel and how cringe it was, but not before he asked if I kissed him!!! I lie and say no, because I never wanted to really kiss Daniel in the first place. We have fun reveling in how basic Daniel is, and then Ryan proceeds to tell me about his coffee date with someone this week with someone from Hinge. Apparently she is also “ethically non-monogamous” and only wants to make friends. Whatever.

Then we decide to walk to his car to head off to the LACMA. Ryan shows me how they just laid out new tar on his street and someone had ruined it by driving on it, he really isn’t happy about it apparently. I honestly don’t really understand the big idea, but maybe I would care if I drove. On the way to his car he is of course quiet and a really slow walker, I feel like I fumble all the time trying to keep his pace while traversing the uprooted side walks of East Hollywood. Ryan thought he got a ticket as we were walking to his car and my stomach dropped, knowing how much that has effected other people I’ve dated in the past. Thankfully it ended up just being a “thank you” note from someone he helped get a spot behind his car. I could breath a sigh of relief, honestly. On the way there he held my hand, put his hand on my though, squeezed my fingers while catching my glance a few times. He doesn’t talk much in the car and I’m learning he really shows that he cares in a lot of non-verbal cues, which is so different from the Ryan I knew as a friend.

At the muesuem, Ryan gets a iced espresso before we get in. The place was pretty empty and we weren’t in a rush, it was a nice change of pace to be outside with him somewhere in the day time. Ryan took a second picture of me (The first was while i was sitting on his couch) in front of the dome next to the LACMA. Both were prompted by him, which made me feel pretty good. During the Nara exhibit, I found that I was much more talkative, I actually expected him to make jokes about more of the art but there were none! He didn’t even laugh at some of the funny ones! I respected his approach though, very contemplative. There were some really beautiful pieces, and I take a long while to stop and stare at everything. I really appreciated his patience and how he kept pace with me, he was interested in seeing it all with me.  The big paintings of Nara’s work were pretty amazing to see up close. I’ve seen a lot of this work in art books, but those photographs and scans can never capture the way the skin of the character’s look in person. They literally look alive, you see all the blue, pink and yellow hues that make a breathing person, but with this simple illustrated, petulant face. The eyes were also a kaleidoscope of colors, his techniques I've tried to commit to memory. especially the white dot technique.

After the exhibition Ryan thanks me for inviting him, saying no one ever invites him to things like this or things in the day time. I ask why he thought that was? He replied “I don’t know, covid?” and then he sings “or maybe I’m secretly cancelled!”. I wish I would of said this at the time, but I suspect it’s because he’s sober, and I hope that doesn't happen to me. He asks if I am hungry, and I say that I am, he suggests Korean BBQ by his place, to which I agree. We drove down 6th st which apparently he had never gone down and he remarked on how beautiful it was, it certainly was, I had missed it. We still hold hands, and even tighter this time as we make our way to K-Town. We both order the Bulgogi and while we wait for our take-out order Ryan discusses with me his thoughts on the exhibit. He spoke about how long Nara had been an artist and expected to do the same style over and over because it’s what sells and rarely to those artists get to do other stuff. He then started relaying it to his own work and how dispensable art is and how we just eat content like McDonald’s. I agree with him, I explained how I felt disenfranchised for those reasons as well. We get our food eventually and head back to his apt. On the way back from the car, Ryan makes a few stories on people leaving bagged dog shit in random places in his neighborhood. He doesn’t have a lot of shame when it comes to his musings in comedy. A quality I both admire and am fearful of. When we get inside I take off my shoes and spruce up a little. We eat in his kitchen next to his two open windows with the honey suckle veranda directly outside. We both had a non-alcoholic beer with our meal which was surprisingly good.  I can’t remember much about what we talked about, I think we just were eating and played footsie a little bit.

He invited me to lay down with him in his room after we were done, so I followed him there. We laid down for some moments, very close and comfortable.I was caressing him all over, I genuinely like to do that with my partners, but specifically Ryan, hes very receptive to touch. We end up kissing and he stops and asks me if I really want to do “this” and I tell him I do. We end up having sex twice, both times Ryan tries hard to focus on me cumming. I don’t but I think he thinks I did the 2nd time. For some reason I’m having a hard time with that, and also getting wet, but I still had a great time (I was really close though) . We felt closer some how, less stress involved. I even fell asleep with his head in my chest. When he woke up, he woke me up. He caressed my neck and grabbed my face to look at it, my eyes still half-way closed. He gets up to go take a bath and I slowly come to and retrieve my phone and go sit in the kitchen next to the open window. I respond to everyone I can, Matt (from Hinge, who I met yesterday at the bonfire) had messaged me to tell me he was free all week, and he was making carbonara if I wanted to stop by. I think I’m going to see him tomorrow.

When Ryan gets out of the Bath and dressed (in a matching green playstation shirt might I add) he puts on a podcast, gets a sparkling water and lays down on the couch. I assume, no room for me, so he wanted to be alone. He was quite quiet as well again. So I decide to purchase somethings from amazon (sewing machine, humidifier, etc) and when I finally put my phone down I look over at Ryan and he was looking at me. He immediately puts his arms up to say “Come here”. As I approach he says that I can lay on him any way I like, face up, down etc, and so I lay down on him stomach down so I can still see him, and he starts to massage my shoulders. We listen to this podcast for awhile like that, and talk about random things relating to it. at some point they get onto the topic of Randonautica, in which I explain to Ryan, who had never heard of it, what it was all about. As I’m explaining it, he downloads the app! I had dared him to do it, but he actually was really interested. Funnily enough, the pin it dropped was right in between his ex-gf’s apt (Dani) and his good friend Shawn’s apt (Who they both date apparently) which really freaked him out. But just as he got the pin, his friend Shawn messaged him on facebook! He looks at me bewildered and asks if I want to meet his friend Shawn and go check out the pin and I agree. I had expected to sleep over but felt instantly rejected, but realized we had spent a lot of close time together so I should just deal with my feelings right then and there. Ryan gets my attention and re-assures me it’s just because he hasn’t had much space the past few days and he had a really lovely day with me. His serious tone made me feel better and I assured him that I was ok.

Before we head out I ask if we can take a Polaroid together, unfortunately both times they are incredibly blown out. He lets me borrow a jacket of his, even though I just gave him back his sweater and we head off. I tell him that I have a bunch of mushrooms I’ve been waiting to take and ask him if the next time we hang out if we could do them/he could babysit me and he enthusiastically agrees. Even though I tell him I am quite the handful on them in large doses, he had a look of reassurance that he can handle it. We’ll see.

We arrive in the area and walk to the pin, Ryan points out where Dani lives as we pass by. The pin was behind a residential gate with an old mustang stored in it, with both its hood and trunk open and a shovel up against it. Ryan tells me his “intention” he set for it was for us to see a UFO, which there was none. But we did see a cardboard cutout of Vegeta from Dragon Ball Z, so I guess him being an alien is close enough. We walk to his friend’s house, which Ryan had the access code memorized, they must be very close. Shaun and his friend seemed to be working on something music oriented for a game as we walked in, Shaun was very nice and welcoming. We end up talking for awhile and he offered me a Kombucha, Ryan seemed to really enjoy himself and liked that I got along so well. We hung out probably for about half an hour and then decided to head out so Ryan could take me home. He asks me how I’m doing and I say that I am having a really nice time, and he looked really happy about that and confirmed he was too.

On the ride back he had his hand on my thigh and I had my hands on his hand and the back of his neck, giving him a light massage while we listened to the tail end of that podcast. When we get to my place he tells me I should borrow his jacket again, that it looks nice. I tell him that I’m going to be busy all week but we will see each other soon, he tells me he is also going to be pretty busy. He reiterates what a great time he had that day and gives me a deep kiss and a long hug. We part ways and I arrive back home to tell Johnny some of the snippets of today while I respond to all my messages on my phone. I ate sushi and got ready for bed. Ryan texts me a bit in the evening, telling me again! how nice today was and what he was up to. It felt really easy and nice.

[kingofbr00klyn]

Newsies prompts! Yeah! Um... 1. Jack being a big brother to Race. 2. Crutchie and Racetrack getting into some trouble together. 3. Jack and Spot caring for some of the littles. Pick one or write them all idc. Can’t wait to read!

Hi this took me like 4 days to write, I thought it was longer than that but okay, I have loads of other stuff in the works, this is just the first one I finished. Sorry for the wait. So this is for the prompt we’re Crutchie and Race get into trouble.

I tried to mix both 1992sies and livesies in this, but I don’t think it really comes across. Also, this story is ever so slightly exaggerated, but oh well. But it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so this probably isn’t the best.

This will also be found on my AO3 account.

"Remind me ta never listen ta you again."

"How was I'se suppost ta know this would 'appen?"

"Well, I dunno. But now I’m in trouble because a’ summing I didn’t even do."

“Oh c’mon! Nuthin’ bad happened. I came out worse than you did. You get to go home scot-free.”

“But still. This is all your fault an’ I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.”

"Wow, Crutch, whatta' way to throw a pal under da bus."

"You'se deserve it."

Race rolled his eyes and sulked further down into his chair, only to regret it when the hard plastic rubbed uncomfortably into his back. He glanced at his companion, who looked just about as shit as he felt. Crutchie kept nervously running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the helm of his shirt, he looked like someone who had just been caught doing something illegal. Oh wait, that's because he had. Let's take a step back, shall we?

2 hours earlier.

Crutchie stood outside his door step, awaiting Race's arrival. The two had decided to spend the evening together, since none of their other friends were available. Race had said he would pick him up at 6. After Crutchie's watch ticked 6:15, Race's old TP Cruiser pulled up. He wore a bright, cheeky grin as he leaned over to open the passenger side door. "Get in loser, we're going shopping!" Crutchie gleefully obliged, grabbing his crutch and sliding into the front seat.

"Are you ready for the funnest night of yer life?" Race asked, a unlit cigar hanging loosely from his mouth.

Crutchie laughed. "We'se just goin' ta the diner on 4th, ain't we?"

"Nope," Race grabbed something from the cupholder beside him and handed it to Crutchie. "Just got this from my guy. Thought we'd treat ourselves tonight." It was a fake ID.

Antonio Higgings

11/12l1997

XXX XXXX XXX

XX/XX/XX

XX/XX/XX

"Yer guy?" Crutchie snorted, handing the card back. "You'se mean Albert."

"Maybe I do. Anyway, I'm low on cigs and shit, so I thought we'se stop by a corner shop and see how well this baby works." Starting the engine, Race pulled out of Crutchie's drive and set off for the nearest place that would give them what they wanted.

"What if we'se get caught? I don't wanna be done just because you'se got a nicotine addiction." Crutchie offered, messing with the diles for the radio.

"Then I punch Albert in the face," Race resorted. That drew a snicker from the blonde. "But seriously, don't worry 'bout it. Everthin's gonna be a-okay!"

Spolier altert; it wasn't.

After 10 or so minutes of driving, Race pulled to a stop and poorly parked the car. "Eh, good enough." He got out, with Crutchie tailing right behind him.

"You don't gotta come in. Ya know, cuz yer so scared of gettin' caught." The taller boy mocked.

Crutchie retaliated by hitting Race in the leg with his crutch. "I'm comin' wit' cha so you don't get punched in the face." Race forged offence, but waved off the comment.

The shop was small, just your regular off-licence, cheap booze with an even cheaper taste, the perfect thing to fuel Race's needs. A little bell rang as they opened the door, there weren't many people inside the shop, Crutchie noted the few middle aged men who were likely in there for similar reasons as themselves. Race swaggered to the front counter, an air of confidence around him. The shop clerk, a young man with a stoic expression, rolled his eyes at the tall blonde.

"What can I get you?" The clerk's tone was as cheerful as expected.

Race grinned cockily. "A smile would be a start, sweetheart," The shop clerk didn't respond, but continued to glare the boy down. "Okay then… A box o' ya finest Corona's and summa that scotch ya got up there." Race slapped $50 on the counter, along with his fake ID.

The clerk picked the card up, eying it suspiciously. Crutchie had a feeling this wouldn’t end well. “Yah think you’re funny, kid? Think I don’t know what a fake ID looks like?” The clerk said. “I’m gonna have to call the cops, you know.”

Race’s expression floored. Disbelief and fear quickly made itself at home. Crutchie felt a similar dread rise up in his stomach, he looked to Race for an inkling of what to do next, but the tall boy just continued to stare dumbly. Until he finally said, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Albert.”

As it turns out, the shop had an undercover officer outside the shop to deal with instances like this. The clerk called him in, and he escorted Crutchie and Race to the local station. Luckily, they had pretty much just been given a slap on the wrist and a call home. Except, since this wasn’t Race’s first offence, so he had also been slapped with a $50 fine.

The boys anxiously awaited the arrival of the parents. Race had already had a million and one messages from his brother, Jack. The sonva’ was having a field day with this. Text after text about how much trouble Race would be in, how he was grounded and how much shit Jack’s going to give him for this. Race ignored his brother, instead opting for spamming Albert with a variety of angry messages in all caps.

GottaGoFast - RedHeadHoe

19:05

GottaGoFast: ALBERT FUCKING DASILVA

GottaGoFast: U FUCKING BITCH

GottaGoFast: IM SO GOING TO KILL U

RedHeadHoe: ???

GottaGoFast: im at the police station

RadHeadHoe: oh what did u do now???

RedHeadHoe: OH

RedHeadHoe: YOU GOT CAUGHT

RedHeadHoe: HA

GottaGoFast: YEAH AND ITS ALL UR FAULT

RedHeadHoe: how is it my fault???

GottaGoFast: BECAUSE UR THE 1 WHO GAVE ME THE ID

RedHeadHoe: dude u didnt have to use it

RedHeadHoe: also i dont make them so it aint my fault

RedHeadHoe: blame my guy

GottaGoFast: ur guy?????

RedHeadHoe: ye

RedHeadHoe: skittery

GottaGoFast: ok but ur still dead

RedHeadHoe: cool

GottaGoFast: dentys gonna be here soon so gotta go

RedHeadHoe: good luck my dude

GottaGoFast: fuck u

RedHeadHoe: :)

Race slipped his phone into his pocket, just in time to see some familiar faces walk though the station door. Bryan Denton, Race’s foster father, walked up to the receptionist desk, before being pointed towards where the boys were sitting. Race looked at Crutchie, before straightening his back and putting on his most charming smile. "Heya Denty!" Race beamed, hoping to the gods above that this would go in his favour. Bryan didn't look particularly mad, but Denton never really got mad. It was like the man was incapable of it, it was great, and Race had done a lot of things that would cause any parent to flip their shit.

"Race," Bryan started, calm and collected as always."What were you thinking?" Okay, maybe it wasn't as great as Race thought, Denton's tranquill state was quite unsettling at the moment, Race had no idea what he was thinking.

"We'se just wanted to have a bit a' fun, ya know, teenage stuff," The blonde rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Did they'se tell ya 'bout da fine?"

"Yeah, they told me over the phone," Denton said. "I'll pay it and then we'll go home. Jack's waiting for us in the car.”

Race rolled his eyes. "Oh yay."

Crutchie didn't really pay much attention to the scene in front of him, he was too caught up in his own head. Fear and worry filled his thoughts, his grandmother wasn't the most forgiving then it came to things like this. Crutchie remembered once when he was 7 and snuck out of his room in the middle of the night to get one of the freshly baked cookies his grandmother had made that day, the elderly woman had found out about his midnight snack and boy was there hell to pay. She wasn't particularly mean or nasty, she could just be strict at times.

Times like these, Crutchie thought as he saw his grandmother barrel towards him with an expression that would make the toughest of men wet themselves. "Charles Andrew Morris! You are in so much trouble, young man!" Oh no, she used his full name. He really was a goner.

"Race, I don't think I'm comin' outta this alive…” Crutchie said.

Race snorted. "Don't worry, my dude, I got this." Crutchie didn't have time to ask what 'this' was, as Race stepped in front of him and greeted his grandmother.

"Mrs Morris, so good ta see ya 'gain," Race started. That diverted the woman from her path of destruction, as she instead gave the blonde a striking glare. The Italian tried not to shrink under her gaze, opting to continue with his sentence. "So um, ya see, Ma'am. It wasn't actually Crutchie's fault, it was mine. So, err, don't punish him for my mistake."

What?

Crutchie was in complete disbelief. And he wasn't the only one, Bryan shared a similar expression. While Race was a good friend, he was also a bit of an asshole, so him taking all the blame for this (even though it was his fault), was a surprise.

Crutchie’s grandmother eyed the boy suspiciously, before she turned on her heels and walked away. “Come on, Charlie, it’s time to go home.”

Crutchie was slightly dumbfounded, but didn’t question as he hugged Race. “Thanks man.”

Race winked and smiled. “No problem, Crutch. Text me if you ain’t dead!”

“Will do!”

RiceCrutchies - Racer

21:35

RiceCrutchies: Guess who aint dead :)))

Racer: yayyyy

Racer: so what happened

RiceCrutchies: Gran wasn’t very happy but she wasnt too mad

RiceCrutchies: Im grounded for 2 weeks tho

Racer: oh well at least we had 1 last night of fun before that

RiceCrutchies: Yea so how’d it go with Denton???

Racer: not too bad

Racer: im also grounded but they took my cigs at the police station so i need to get more from Albert

RiceCrutchies: You think you would have learnt your lesson but ok

Racer: 👌

Racer: i gotta go crutch see you in school???

RiceCrutchies: Yeah, see you and try not to do anything illegal between then

Racer: no promises

RiceCrutchies: 🤦‍

[elatedmarvel]

After All This Time, You and I (1/4)

Summary: Bucky has known you your entire life. Snapshots through the years.

Word Count:  1948

AN: Hello! Long time no see! This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Follower Celebration! Congrats to you Star, you deserve every single one!! My prompt was Best Friend’s Sibling. This was originally going to be a long oneshot, but I felt like the flow was better to separate it into a two-shot. Title is from Mary’s Song by Taylor Swift for obvious reasons. Thank you for hosting this awesome writing challenge Star! I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: tiny mention of violence, swear words

“The building burning up Buck! You gotta get out of here!” Steve shouts staring down his best friend from across the bridge.

“No! Not without you!” comes Bucky’s fierce reply. His eyes scan over the wreck, trying to find something to save Stevie. 

Steve takes a deep breath and prays that the crumbling bridge will hold a little longer, and he charges across the chasm. He almost makes it to the other side when his foot gets caught on a pillow. Tumbling over, he avoids landing on Bucky, but knocks over the unsuspecting person on his right. 

You land with a thud on your hands and knees, and quickly scramble to look at your right knee. There’s a moment of silence, and the boys hold their breath waiting for the inevitable wail. 

“I’m sorry!” Steve cries before wrapping his arms around you in a clumsy hug. He really didn’t see you playing next to him, it was an accident! Your bottom lip sticks out and your eyes become more and more glassy. 

“Please don’t cry” he begs, partly because it breaks his heart, and partially because he doesn't want get in trouble. He knew what kind of hellfire Sarah Rogers could rain down.   

“We’re sorry, what can we do to make it up to you?” Bucky asks, scooting himself to face your tear stained face. He felt bad for making Steve run across the bridge, he never meant to hurt you. 

“I-I need a groom for my wedding.” you state without hesitation, wiping at your eyes. “And I can’t marry Steve cause he’s my brother, duh.” Your wet eyes turn to look intently at Bucky. 

“You can’t get married, you’re 6.” Bucky tries to argue.

“So? You’re 8! That’s only 2 years older! ‘Sides, it’s not real anyway.” you fires back, your bottom lip juts out again, ready to cry if that’s what it takes.

He’s taken a back for a moment at your reply, and blue eyes meet Steve’s pleading ones. He’d do anything for you, and of course Steve was the cherry on top. 

“Ok. Fine.”

On a rainy day in April, Steve walks you down the aisle. 

Clad in his nicest, unstained, khaki pants, Bucky’s heart skips a beat when he sees you. You’re wearing your Cinderella costume from Halloween, and some stolen red lipstick from your mom, smiling like you got an extra juice pop. Somehow, he already knows your the prettiest girl in the world.  

In front of your moms, stuffed animals and barbies, Bucky promises to always make you laugh and smile, and to protect you. You promise to always share her toys and food with him, and to make him feel better when he’s sad.

The ceremony ends after Steve pronounces you both husband and wife, and while your moms cheer and tear up slightly, Bucky leans in and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. It won’t be so bad being married to her, he thinks.

~~~

School sucked for Bucky today. Steve got into a fight with Zemo, which lead to Bucky getting in a fight with Zemo. That punk couldn’t even breathe right, it frustrated Bucky to no end that he couldn’t stop being stupid. Turns out, being punched in face hurts more than it looks in the movies. And of course, his parents weren’t thrilled and took away his TV privileges for the week, which meant he couldn’t find out what happened on his favorite show the Howling Commandos. Last week was even a cliffhanger! Captain America and the Winter Soldier were stuck on a plane with bombs on them and fast approaching Manhattan! 

Wallowing, both Steve and him were relegated to “use their imaginations” and playing in the backyard. Bored out of their minds, they played hide and seek, a babies game really if you asked Bucky. But, Steve was nice enough to let Bucky hide first, and Bucky couldn’t say no to that bruised face.

So here he was, climbing the ladder to the old tree house, hoping Steve wouldn’t look here right away. Sniffles drew his attention you, crying softly in the corner with your knees to your chest. You were blasting music from your walkman, Endless Love from what Bucky could hear. It was really bad then. His chest hurt seeing your red rimmed eyes, and crawled next to you. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked lowly, taking her headphones off of your head and pausing the song. You didn’t look him in the eye, but leaned into him more when he put his arm around you. 

“Stupid boys.” you sniffle. Wiping your face, you finally meet Bucky’s worried eyes. “Jake dumped me for Sierra, cause she always has chocolate snack packs in her lunch.”

“That weasel! Want me to rough him up a little?”

“Thanks, but I think you and Stevie are in enough trouble as it is.” you chuckle, placing your head on his shoulder. He gently rubs his hand up and down your arm, wishing he could take away your pain. 

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend, make him jealous your going out with a 6th grader.” he offers.

“You can’t be my boyfriend, you’re already my husband!” you joke. His eyes go wide, remembering your lovely wedding ceremony and the massive amounts of cake you both ate at the “reception”. 

“Hey! That’s right! Technically you were cheating on me with him! I want a divorce.” he jokes, bumping your shoulder with his. 

You giggle and place a hand on his, “Please forgive me! It’s been so hard being separated from you now that you’re in middle school! He didn’t mean anything! Promise!”

You both erupt laughing so hard that Bucky falls over and brings you with him, which makes you both laugh even harder. Managing to calm down, he places a kiss on your forehead and hugs you closer to him. His heart does a funny dance in his chest, but he ignores it. You’re so warm against him, and your shampoo smelled so good, he could lay here with you forever. 

“I guess I’ll forgive you this once, but don’t let it happen again.” he says solemnly. 

You nod, hair tickling his face, “It won’t, you’re the only one for me Bucky Barnes.” 

~~~

 The room’s getting dark, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the light. Not when Lional Richie was pouring his heart out. He couldn’t go down to dinner, his whole family had heard her breaking up with him. Did Dot really have to come over and break things off in the driveway? It would kill him to see the pity in his mom’s eyes, and sit through the uncomfortable talk with his dad about his feelings. He knew they were worried about him, and wanted to help, but he couldn’t stomach facing them.

They hadn’t been going out for long, but being dumped for the first time, he didn’t know how to handle his heartache. Honestly, he didn’t know if he was even heartbroken, or just wallowing in self-pity of being blindsided by the breakup. 

A knock on the door brought him out of his misery. Must be his mom, bringing food up to him like the saint that she was. He stands up slowly, acutely aware of how his muscles ache from being curled in a ball for most of the day, and stretches as he makes his way to the door. 

Your bright eyes stare back at him when he opens the door, and in his shock, he takes in the box of pizza you holdand the enormous bag of junk food. 

“What’re you doing here?” voice cracking from underuse. 

“Steve told me what happened with Dot. I brought pizza and your favorite snacks and movies. I can drop them off and leave though if you would rather be alone?” your voice hopeful that he won’t turn you away. Like he could, he’s never turned you away before and he won’t start now. 

A small smile makes its way onto his face, and he opens the door wider so you can come into the bedroom. Your grin soothes the ache in his chest. You put the pizza down on his nightstand and cue up Star Wars. Getting cozy on his bed and patting the spot next to you, it seems like you fit right in. He didn’t need to be asked twice. 

By 4 AM, he’s forgotten all about what’s-her-name, and his earlier self-pity and heartbreak. Not when Star Wars was playing in the background and your blinking sleepily at the TV, head on his shoulder. 

~~~

“Bucky, we have a situation.” Steve announces, flopping onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky looks up from the laptop in his lap with a confused stare, waiting from Mr. Dramatic to explain. He didn’t have time for his antics, his last college final of the semester was due next week.

“Y/N’s prom date bailed on her, and it’s tomorrow.” was all Steve said, and looked at Bucky, waiting for what he knew would happen now.

“That dick.” Bucky replied, mentally searching for his tux. “If I leave now, I can make it with enough time to shower and get ready.” And he hops off the bed, grabbing his duffle bag, he stuffs whatever he may need for the impromptu trip home. Steve just stares at him with a smile on his face like the little shit he is. 

A 5 hour drive home, shower, frantic search for his tux, and a quick power nap later, he knocks on your door. He wishes he could photograph the look of surprise on your face, your jaw literally drops when he see him in his tux.

“Bucky?!” And he swears he forgot how beautiful you were. Literally glowing, and he doesn't think it’s from the makeup, he can’t help himself as he takes in your dress. You’ll be the most beautiful one there, no contest. “Hey doll.” he smirks at you, still amused by your shocked state. He can tell when your brain catches up when your eyes soften as you look up at him.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a soft voice. 

“Taking you to prom, what else would I be doing?” and he can see you calculating in your head. 

“Bucky, you must have driven all night!” you exclaim. Bucky loves when your eyes grow wide, it’s so cute.

“It’s fine, who needs sleep?” he says as he steps inside, past your frozen, and shocked state. Steve must have told your parents he was coming, he can see your parents waiting with the camera in the living room. 

“You told me you were going to work on your final all weekend.” you fire back, closing the door. 

“This is more important to me.” and he can tell you don’t quite believe him. You have a scowl on your face that reminds him of when you would catch him stealing a piece of candy as kids. He’s pretty sure you think it’s intimidating, but he finds it adorable. 

“I promise that I worked on it already, and I’ll be ok.” and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You look beautiful.” your glad your foundation hides the sudden flush of your face. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself.” you tease back. But really, seeing him like this does inexplicable things to your heart. He’s so handsome, and he had driven all night to take you to prom. You could just kiss him. 

Taking your hands in his, you look into his eyes. “Thank you.” you say earnestly. 

And Bucky knew in that moment, he would drive days to get to you if needed.

Part 2 

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Paper Rings Part 2 (Richie Tozier X Reader)

WC: 3630

Warnings: Language, kinda sexual talk, gets a bit Sad

Summary: Y/N returns to Derry with Richie, for better or worse.

A/N: Here is part 2! I was so surprised by the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the first part so here is the second part. Hope y’all enjoy (also sorry if anyone notices that the summary and stuff is slightly different, for some reason all the text in this post deleted so I’m updating it.)

The drive to Derry was surprisingly fun, full of screaming song lyrics at the top of their lungs with Richie’s hand never once leaving Y/N’s thigh. Maybe they pulled over once to fulfil Richie’s fantasy of making out in a parked car, but regardless, they got to Derry in record time.

They parked outside the Jade Orient, and Y/N could tell that Richie was starting to feel anxious. “Hey, wanna tell me what’s going through that gorgeous head of yours?” Y/N asked, shifting her position so she was facing Richie, one of her hands grasping his.

“It’s just that I haven’t been back here in so long, and I can’t remember why but I just feel like something bad happened here, and I think something bad is about to happen, Y/N.” Richie said, his voice shaking as he spoke, and Y/N felt her heart wrench.

She hated seeing Richie upset more than anything else, so she pulled him into an awkward hug, his head resting in the crook of her neck. “Rich, I’m here and I’m with you. You don’t need to worry, babe.” Y/N whispered into his hair, rubbing his shoulders soothingly.

 Richie pulled away, taking a deep breath before giving her a grateful smile. “I love you so much, Y/N/N. Let’s go.” Richie said, and Y/N felt herself smile at his words. They untangled themselves and climbed out of the car, making sure it was locked as Richie had a habit of forgetting to lock both the car and their front door.

Richie slid his hand into Y/N’s as they entered the restaurant, and she squeezed it gently to reassure him that all would be well. The overpowering smell of Chinese food caused Y/N to smile widely, remembering when she first told Richie she loved him.

“You know, if this dinner finishes quick enough, we can head back to the hotel and really make the most of that room.” Richie whispered in Y/N’s ear as they waited to be shown to their table.

“You are not getting me turned on before a dinner with your childhood friends, Richard. That is a game you do not want to start.” Y/N retorted, pointing her finger at him sternly. Richie went to respond, but the waitress arrived and guided them to their table.

Richie saw a large ceremonial gong near the table and without even thinking he ran towards it, picking up the accompanying mallet and banging the gong. The men sitting at the table all grimaced, and Y/N did too, shooting Richie a disapproving glare.

“Guess this meeting of the Loser’s Club has officially begun.” Richie said, and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Must be an inside joke. Richie rushed to the three men sitting at the table with a look of shock on his face. Y/N stood there awkwardly as the friends reunited, rocking back and forth on her heels. She heard a few names thrown about during the conversation, and she tried to assign them correctly to faces.

“Hey Rich, would you care to introduce your friend?” The man that Y/N assumed to be Eddie said, pointing to her shyly. Richie gasped, realising he forgot to introduce Y/N. He moved over to her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“Gentlemen, this is Y/N. I go everywhere with her, and she is the best.” Richie said cheekily, and Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

“So what? Is she like a PA or something?” Eddie said and Richie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“No you fuckwit, she’s my wife.” Richie said, and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out laughing as she lifted her left hand, showing off the rings that decorated her fourth finger.

“For once in his entire life he’s not joking. I’m Y/N Tozier, pleasure to meet you all.” Y/N said, stretching her hand out to shake the hands of the other men.

“Richie, do you think you’re maybe batting out of your league at all?” Eddie commented and Richie just gave him the finger and told him to fuck off, which caused Y/N to giggle.

Pleasant conversation took place for a while, before the arrival of two more people drew their attention. Y/N turned around with Richie, and she furrowed her eyebrows at the look on his face.

“Ben, Bev, good god. You guys look amazing. What the fuck happened to me?” Richie said, standing up to greet them. They let out a polite chuckle and Y/N couldn’t help but shoot Richie a loving look.

“Ok now that everyone is here, I’m going to start eating because I’m fucking starving. Also this is Y/N, my wife.” Richie said, causing Ben and Beverly to glance between the two with shocked looks.

“I’ll give you all the brief story. We met at a party in 2009 and didn’t get together until after his SNL appearance later that year. We got engaged in 2011 and got married in 2012. I worked on SNL for a few years as a writer and now I co-write a lot of stuff with Richie.” Y/N said, taking a sip from her glass of wine once she was finished.

“Wait so does that mean Richie doesn’t write all his own jokes?” Eddie said and Y/N nodded, causing Eddie to gasp before turning to Richie.

“I knew it! I knew you didn’t write your own fucking jokes.” Eddie exclaimed, and Richie nearly choked on his spring roll as Y/N, and the rest of the table, burst out laughing.

“Oh fuck you Kaspbrak. What exactly do you do with your life, huh?” Richie retorted once he had finished eating, and Eddie adjusted his jacket almost indignantly.

“I’m a risk manager, so I go into big companies and you know… I manage risks.” Eddie said, and as if through some miracle both Y/N and Richie mocked being asleep; Richie with his head hung back, his mouth open as he faked snores and Y/N who drooped her head forward with her eyes closed. Eddie let out an offended groan, scoffing at the pair.

“Look fuck you both! That was so uncalled for.” After Eddie’s outburst the dinner progressed pretty normally, with Y/N slotting into the group quite well. The bickering between her, Richie and Eddie was next level, and her cheeks hurt from laughing by the time the main course came around.

By the end of the night they were incredibly relaxed, although the tension grew when Mike began talking about It. Y/N was understandably confused as the only outsider, but she quickly put the pieces together as soon as the fortune cookies started to dissolve into some of the most disturbing things she had ever seen.

“Richie what the fuck is going on?” Y/N said, clutching onto her husband’s arm as they backed up into one corner of the room. They were breathing fast, and Y/N let out a scream as one of the things tried to come near her.

“Get the fuck away from my wife!” Richie said, swatting at anything that got too close for comfort. Mike beat the things on the table beyond recognition with a chair, and as soon as the waitress appeared all those things harassing them disappeared.

Y/N looked around the room in shock and confusion, running a hand through her hair as she tried to process what she had just seen. She was breathing fast and hard, and it seemed that Richie could tell she was close to panicking because he cupped her face in his hands and got her to focus on her breathing. 

She started to stammer, unable to form proper sentences due to the chaos she had just witnessed. Richie shushed her gently, moving his hands so he could pull her against him. He pressed several kisses to the top of her head as she calmed down, one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her waist.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N. I’ve got you.” Richie didn’t care that all the other Losers were watching them, some in confusion and some with an unrecognisable emotion on their face. All he cared about was making sure his wife was ok.

---------------

Y/N woke up the next morning wrapped tighter around Richie than ever before. All their limbs were tangled messily together and she was practically on top of him. As much as Y/N wanted to stay like that, she had to go get a coffee and wake herself up or else she wouldn’t leave the bed. She carefully untangled herself from Richie’s embrace and quickly threw on the closest set of clothes, which was a pair of leggings and one of Richie’s button ups, before leaving their shared room.

When she walked downstairs she found Eddie on the phone in the common area, pacing frantically as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “Myra I love you but I really have to go, ok? Bye!” With that Eddie hung up, sighing as he put his phone in his pocket.

“Things on rocky ground with the wife?” Y/N said, causing Eddie to jump slightly at her sudden appearance.

“Yeah, you could say that, though I guess we’re always on rocky ground. It’s nothing like you and Richie, though.” Eddie said, and Y/N smiled as she scratched the back of her neck bashfully.

“Thanks Eddie. I’m so glad I met Richie, honestly. He’s incredible.” Y/N said, sitting down on the edge of the armchair opposite Eddie. He shot her a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes before letting out a yawn.

“I was just about to go out and get coffee, did you want some?” Y/N said, and Eddie nodded immediately, prompting Y/N to let out a chuckle as they booth stood up. The walk to the coffee shop was punctuated with small talk and the odd jab at Richie’s expense, and Y/N felt glad that she was getting to know her husband’s childhood best friend.

“Look Y/N, can I be completely honest with you?” Eddie said while they were waiting for the coffee, and Y/N nodded, though she couldn’t help the rising feeling of anxiety that hit her thanks to Eddie’s words.

“I genuinely cannot think of a better person for Richie to be with than you. I have never seen him as happy and relaxed as he was last night, and I can tell that he would probably die for you if it came down to it, and from what I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure you’d do the same.” Eddie said with such a genuine tone that it took Y/N a bit by surprise. The smile on Y/N’s face was so wide, and she couldn’t help but pull Eddie into a brief but tight hug.

“Thank you, and trust me when I say that I know my husband, and I know how much you mean to him as well.”

------------

Never in her wildest dreams did Y/N think she would be in the sewers underneath her husband’s hometown, about to battle a giant, horrifying clown-spider hybrid, but life did always tend to surprise her.

“You wanna play truth or dare? Well you’re a sloppy bitch!” Richie shouted at the monster before relaying a whole heap of other insults. Y/N was standing behind Richie, clutching his hand tightly in both support and utter fear.

Suddenly Richie was silence, and he began to levitate with an unnatural golden glow in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do to my husband you bitch ass clown?” Y/N called, feeling her hand fall out of Richie’s as he continued to ascend. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she looked up at Richie, hoping and praying to any god that would listen that he made it out alive.

“The deadlights… we have to do something!” Beverly said, looking around at the group for some support. Before anyone could do or say anything, the sound of thundering footsteps alerted everyone’s attention, and suddenly Eddie was launching a pike into the open face of the clown. The hold on Richie was immediately lost and he dropped to the floor with a soft thud.

Eddie and Y/N immediately rushed to him, making sure he wasn’t injured or unconscious. “Richie, I did it! I killed It, Richie!” Eddie said excitedly, full of joy and pride. Y/N gave Eddie a warm smile before turning her gaze to Richie, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

Richie let out a groan, nuzzling his face into Y/N’s hand as he came back to reality. “You guys… you saved me.” Richie mumbled, and both Eddie and Y/N chuckled lightly.

“Actually Rich, that was all… EDDIE!” Y/N called out, pushing the shorter brunette out of the way. Due to her position she saw that It was in fact still alive, and incredibly angry. It swung one of its claws in their direction, and without thinking Y/N shoved Eddie out of the line of potential injury. The adrenaline was pumping and she didn’t even register what had happened until she felt a searing pain in her abdomen.

“Y/N oh my god!” Richie said, catching her as she stumbled from the impact. All of Richie’s fears were coming true in the form of seeing Y/N wounded and bleeding in his arms.

“Jesus Christ Y/N, you didn’t need to… I could’ve…” Eddie stammered, moving to support her other side.

“Easy boys, tis but a scratch.” Y/N mumbled, starting to feel a little weak but keeping it together for the sake of her husband and his friend.

“Y/N you’re... Jesus you’re almost fucking dying and you’re fucking quoting Monty Python. I know you’re my dream woman but god at what cost.” Richie said, the pitch of his voice raising due to the tears that started to flow from his eyes.

“Rich, if I don’t get out of here.” Y/N said, and Richie made several noises of protest, shaking his head as tears blurred his vision.

“Don’t you say that, Y/N Tozier, don’t you fucking dare say that. We’re getting you out of here. I cannot and will not have you die on my watch, because god forbid if you do, who else am I supposed to love? Who else am I supposed to have a family with? Who else am I supposed to grow old with? I don’t want that with anyone but you, Y/N. Fuck.” Richie said, sobbing openly as he cradled Y/N close to his chest. 

Richie didn’t care that he had his wife’s blood staining his shirt and his hands. He just wanted to get her out of here alive and spend the rest of his life with her, like they promised each other they would all those years ago. He wasn’t a religious man, but he was praying to god that he would spare Y/N.

Richie didn’t move from Y/N’s side until they were sure It was well and truly dead. He had used his button up to stop the bleeding, and he just kept talking to her to stop her from going to sleep, but it worked. Carrying Y/N was tricky due to the tight and narrow spaces they had to get through to get out, but they quickly made it to the surface.

“We have to get her to a hospital.” Richie said, holding Y/N in his arms as she let out a groan of pain. That groan sent a knife through Richie’s heart, and he instinctively tightened his grip on her.

“We’re gonna make it, Y/N. I promise.”

 --------------

Y/N awoke to the sound of soft snoring and the incessant beeping of a monitor of some sort. She felt a dull ache in her lower torso, and when she opened her eyes she was met with a fierce brightness that caused her to let out a groan. It was when she started to wake that she felt a weight in her right hand, and she could only guess that it belonged to Richie.

“Rich.” She said softly, her own voice sounding almost alien after having not used it for so long. The soft snores of the brunette opposite her were quickly replaced by a gasp as Richie realised that she was awake.

“Y/N? Oh my god you’re awake.” Richie exclaimed, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it a dozen times over. Y/N gave him a weak smile, blushing slightly at the gesture. Even after several years of marriage he still managed to make her blush.

“How long was I out?” Y/N asked, trying to sit up but wincing when she was hit with a rush of burning pain.

“Don’t push yourself Y/N, you might tear some stitches. You’ve been out for about a day. They operated and everything is fine, but you’re going to need a lot of recovery time. You nearly died, Y/N.” Richie said, his voice trailing off as he began to dwell on the events of the past day. Y/N could sense this, and she squeezed Richie’s hand tighter to let him know that she was ok. She didn’t die down there, he didn’t have to worry.

Suddenly they heard the sound of the door opening, and Y/N gave the visitor a half smile. It was Eddie, who came into the room meekly clutching a bouquet of flowers. They were by no means the best and brightest, but Y/N appreciated the gesture.

“Hey man, is she good?” Eddie asked, placing the flowers on a table next to Y/N’s bed.

“She’s awake, thank you very much Kaspbrak.” Y/N said, and Eddie’s face seemed to light up.

“Oh Y/N I’m so glad you’re ok. We were all worried sick, but no one more than Richie. I don’t think he’s left this chair since you got here. I think he nearly fought a nurse when they tried to get him out to do the surgery.” Eddie said, waving his hands about as he spoke.

Y/N went to laugh but stopped when she felt that ache in her torso again, and settled for just smiling at Eddie and squeezing Richie’s hand again. “Thanks Eddie, and Richie I won’t be offended if you leave, at the very least to take a shower. I’m not going to be kissing or fucking my husband if he smells like a literal sewer.”

Richie let out a genuine laugh, as did Eddie, and he shrugged his shoulders before standing up. He groaned at the feeling of tension in his muscles before leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“If I head to the hotel and scrub up before coming back here, will I be receiving any kisses?” Richie asked and Y/N smirked as she nodded her head.

“Maybe even a handjob if I’m feeling generous.” She said, and Richie’s eyes widened behind his giant glasses. He threw his head back and muttered a thank you to god before kissing Y/N’s forehead once more.

“You’re the best wife a man could ask for, Y/N. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows as he left the room, much to Eddie’s disgust.

“You guys are perfect for each other. Sharp, funny, and gross enough to keep everyone on their toes.” Eddie said and Y/N nodded her head, a loving smile on her face.

“Thanks Eddie. So, is there any reason you decided to stop by and see little old me?” Y/N asked, and Eddie nodded, crossing his legs as he turned to face Y/N.

“I want to say thank you. You saved my fucking life down there, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I know we only just met but I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer. That could just be because Richie doesn’t shut up about you, but you get what I mean.” Eddie said, and Y/N reached out her hand, gesturing for Eddie to come closer to her.

He stood up and walked to her bedside, and Y/N lightly grasped one of Eddie’s hands. “Eddie, don’t forget that you saved Richie’s life down there. Do you know how goddamn happy it makes me to know that you care so much for Richie that you would risk your actual life? I practically owe you my life, Eddie, so thank you.” Y/N said, and Eddie gave her a smile that seemed to have a bittersweet feel to it.

Eddie went to say something but was cut off by Richie’s sudden reappearance in the room. “I might’ve lied about the twenty minutes part. Turns out I can shower a lot quicker than that. So, Y/N, are you going to be keeping your earlier promise?” Richie said suggestively, strolling over to the side of Y/N’s bed and kissing her on the cheek. Eddie stepped to the side and retreated back to his chair, watching the display with a slightly heavy heart.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss Richie for the first time since the sewer encounter. How so much passion and emotion could be contained in one kiss she had no idea, but it almost left her head reeling when they broke apart.

“Ok I can’t let this slide. Richie, I saved your fucking life down there so just saying, I think you should name a kid after me.” Eddie burst out suddenly, and both Y/N and Richie let out a laugh at the exclamation.

“I love you man, but that’s a bit too much. What do you think Y/N?” Richie said, and Y/N simply shrugged, making eye contact with Eddie as she did so.

Little did they know that in another two years they would be in another hospital in a similar set up, except with Y/N clutching little Eddie Tozier in her arms as the two men stared in awe at the beautiful boy, with nothing but joy filling the room.

[trappingguy]

Rules!

1. Themes will vary with this blog. Mystery Incorporated is PRETTY dark at times, so it’ll be what you expect there. To that end, dark themes, violence and maybe swearing.

I will try my best to tag everything. These will be under the format of swearing tw. If you’d like me to tag anything specific, don’t hesitate to ask through anon / inbox / im!

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW (sexual) content.

Mun is of age, and as such I won’t be writing anything of the sexual nature with minors.

2. I’m private, which means I only write with mutuals (this is for my own sanity / comfort; everyone’s cool!). I’ll write with canon, oc, and crossover characters.

Although I’m private, when it comes to following people, I’m selective. We don’t have to have known each other prior to write!

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it.

I follow the tag #trappingguy. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it.

In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).

I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are!

I have a full-time job (and I’m trying to get into screenwriting in my off-time) so sometimes I’m scrapped for time or exhausted. I’m also an introvert who deals with anxiety and depression, thus that may affect how much / how often I roleplay. If I don’t get chance to respond to anything ic or ooc, it’s nothing personal! Promise!

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!

I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them

4. Shippings? If they’re of similar age, sure!

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). The occasional joke is fine, but anything beyond that makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. 

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.

8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.

You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll probably default to a post-canon verse.

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.

Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!

For the moment, I’m sticking PRIMARILY to Mystery Incorporated canon with some other media sprinkled in. It’s just because Fred has a lot of media to cover and I haven’t binged his stuff yet.

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.

11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:

Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.

Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.

Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.

Tag their nsfw.

Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.

…also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. Icons.

I make all of my icons by myself, however credit for the icon shape and psd goes here and here.

16. Rules are subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

[coolxnxblue]

de rules:

1. Themes might very with this blog. It’ll typically be SFW, but there will likely be dark themes, violence and swearing.

Things will be tagged! I’ll try my best, anyways. If you want something in particular tagged, please let me know through ask / anon / im. The format I use for tagging is, for example, tw: swearing.

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW content.

That said, I won’t do anything NSFW - gore is okay, though.

I’m of age.

2. I’m private, meaning I only really roleplay with people I follow. This is so things don’t get too overwhelming and for me and to cement who I want to interact with. I generally follow most people if our writing clicks, though.

If I don’t follow you and you’d like me to check out your blog, lurk in my notifs. I’ll definitely see you and make note to check you out. Same with promos, or you can just rb them to a sideblog / send an ask with its url. I can’t gurantee I’ll follow, but I’ll certainly check it out!

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it. You’re free to ask if I know of a fandom or not! I’ll have a list at some point.

I follow the tag #coolxnxblue. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it. 

In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are! Additionally, life happens to be a thing.

Please note the mun deals with anxiety and depression, and has part time jobs which are honestly tiring - this might affect how frequently she roleplays.

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!

I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them

4. Shippings? Heck yeah, I ship lots with my blue son! Just make sure they’re of similar age pls.

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!

Sonic X Tails won’t be happening on this blog, sorry.

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately as nsfw //.

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any ask / starter memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.

8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.

You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.

I know pretty much most if not all Sonic media, bar Fleetway which I haven’t gotten around to reading yet. Since that’s unfamiliar territory, I’m unlikely to tread in it yet.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll either resort to game verse or whatever continuity your muse applies to (i.e, Sally (archie), Starline (idw), and so forth).

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

In that sense, I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.

Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.

11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:

Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.

Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.

Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.

Tag their nsfw.

Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.

...also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. Rules may be subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

[ominousgreeting]

THE SCRIPT:

1. Themes will vary with this blog. Bob is a morbid guy, so I wouldn’t advise following if you’re not used to his character. There will likely be violence, themes of murder and crime, as well as that messed up obsession with wanting to kill Bart Simpson. If you’re not comfortable with that, steer clear!

I will try my best to tag everything. These will be under the format of swearing tw. If you’d like me to tag anything specific, don’t hesitate to ask through anon / inbox / im!

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW (sexual) content.

I’m of age, and thus I won’t be writing anything to that end with minors. Not that I’d be writing much of it anyway.

2. I’m private, which means I only write with mutuals (this is for my own sanity / comfort; everyone’s cool!). I’ll write with canon, oc, and crossover characters.

Although I’m private, when it comes to following people, I’m selective. We don’t have to have known each other prior to write!

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it.

I follow the tag #ominousgreeting. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it. 

In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!). 

I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are!

I have a full-time job (and I’m trying to get into screenwriting in my off-time) so sometimes I’m scrapped for time or exhausted. I'm also an introvert who deals with anxiety and depression, thus that may affect how much / how often I roleplay. If I don’t get chance to respond to anything ic or ooc, it’s nothing personal! Promise!

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!

I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them

4. Shippings? If they’re of similar age, sure! With Bob, it’s a little timey whimey since he’s married, but we could figure something out.

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

Also the same rule applies to this next thing. It would go without saying, but given the nature of this fandom... for the love of God, no shipping any of the kids with Bob.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). The occasional joke is fine, but anything beyond that makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately as nsfw //.

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.

8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.

You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.

I know pretty much most Bob media, bar the comics because I’ve only read a few of them.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll probably default to a post-canon verse.

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

In that sense, I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.

Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.

11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:

Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.

Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.

Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.

Tag their nsfw.

Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.

…also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. Rules may be subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede            Chapter 49:  What Has To Be Done

Source:  @fortheloveofbarba

Chapters 1-45  Chapter 46  Chapter 47  Chapter 48

A young man brought a large bouquet of flowers through the door to the squad room.  

“Oh, no,” Amanda warned, catching Laura’s attention.

“I got flowers for a Laura Parker?”  The delivery man called out, looking around.

Laura rolled her eyes and indicated the chair next to her desk.  “Have a seat,” she said to the delivery man.  “This is gonna take longer than you expected.  Hope you’re not double-parked.”

When Olivia returned from ComStat, she saw the flowers and knew immediately that Parker had received another gift from Simmons.  Catching Rollins’ eye, she pointed to the bouquet and raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.  Him again. Parker and Fin are at the flower shop right now.”

“Is there a card?”  

“Yeah, he’s escalating.  This one is an out-and-out threat.”  Rollins handed Olivia an evidence bag with a florist’s card inside.

I love you.  Don’t make me hurt you like you’re hurting me.

Olivia scowled.  “They should’ve checked with me first.  This isn’t something Parker can be investigating anymore.  What if he’s waiting for her at the flower shop?”

“Fin’s there.”

“That’s something.  But you’re right, he’s escalating.  So this is the last time.”

“I don’t envy you telling Parker that.”

“Yeah.”

 **********

The package delivered to Laura three days later was the size of a shoebox, but heavy.  That, in itself, had been enough to prompt the evacuation of the station house and investigation by the bomb squad.  But it wasn’t a bomb.  It was worse.

Laura felt sick.  The poor cat appeared to have been healthy and well cared for, with a collar that included an ID tag.  Until the sick bastard had decapitated and disemboweled it.  

“Fuck,” she whispered.  She looked up at Olivia, her face pale and her eyes wide.  “I don’t suppose we can keep this from my husband.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Awesome.  Cue the ‘we’re leaving town until they catch this creep’ speech.”

“He’s got a point.”

“Oh, not you, too.”

“Yes.  Me, too.”

“Is that an order?

“Not yet.  But Simmons is out of control.  You need to let us take it from here.”  

“I’m working other cases!  I’ve got work to do.  If he comes for me, Fin and I will deal with him.  Please, Liv.  As long as I’m around, he’ll keep doing this stuff, and every time he does, he’s exposed. That gives us the chance to catch him. I split, he goes to ground until I’m back.  Or worse, he starts on someone else.”

“All right.  For now.  But you stay far away from this investigation.  Understood?”

“Understood, Lieu.”

 Rafael was livid.  The moment he heard about the cat, he was on the phone to Laura, telling her to stay at the station house until he could come get her and take her out of town.  Laura closed her eyes, shook her head, and went into the crib, from which the squad expected to hear arguing from behind the closed door.  There was no yelling, but they could hear the clipped words and exaggerated pronunciation of a very tense discussion.  

“Rafael, I love you.  I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it.  But this is not. your. call.”

“¡Joder![1]  

“Look, Liv’s OK with me staying on.  If you won’t trust my judgment, trust hers.”

“It’s not your judgment I question, it’s this maniac’s. We’re not done talking about this. In the meantime, you be careful.”

“Always.  Now go back to work.”

The following day, as Laura and Fin drove across town working a case, they noticed a car tailing them.  

“You think it’s him?”  Fin asked.

“Let’s check it out.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Give him what he wants.”

“You sure?”  Fin squinted at Laura.

“You got me, right?”  She shrugged, grinning at him.

“If Barba asks, I was against this from the beginning,” Fin said, pulling into a parking lot.  

The blue Hyundai compact pulled into a parking stall near them, but across the aisle.  No one got out.  Fin and Laura decided to push it by getting out of their car and heading to either side of the Hyundai.  As soon as they did, though, the Hyundai pulled back out of the stall and squealed off, nearly clipping Laura in the process.  She jumped and rolled just in time to avoid being hit.

Fin ran to her side and helped her up from the pavement. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” she told him, disgusted.  “Damn, that was him.  We almost had him.”

Laura’s phone rang.  She didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t unusual.  Just after she answered, her expression went hard and she pushed the speaker button.

“- and I don’t like that.  You really hurt my feelings, Laura.  Why won’t you love me?”

“Hey, Art, I know you’re upset.  Why don’t you come back here?  Maybe we can talk about it.”

“Get rid of that other guy.”

“I can do that,” she said.  Fin tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, but didn’t interfere.

“You- you will?”  Simmons stammered.  

“Yeah, Art.  I don’t want to hurt your feelings.  Let’s talk.”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“I’m trying to fix things between us, Art.  That’s all.”  

“You’re a liar!  You bitch, you’re trying to trick me!  Why are you such a bitch?”  At first, he had been shouting furiously into the phone.  Now, Fin and Laura could hear him begin to sob.  “All I ever did is love you!  Why won’t you love me back?”

“Come on, Art, please don’t cry.  Just come back and talk to me.”  

“Yeah, I’m gonna come back, you filthy whore, and I’m gonna rip you apart!”  He was screaming, almost incoherent before the call ended abruptly.  

Laura and Fin looked at eachother, stunned.  

“Next mood swing in 3…2…1…”  Fin murmured.

“Holy crap.  He’s completely unhinged.”

“Yeah.  I think it might be time for you to bow out.”

“Screw that.  We’ve got him, Partner.  All I gotta do now is stay put and let him come to me.”

Squealing tires drew their attention to the end of the row of cars where a blue compact was tearing around the corner.  

“Go!”  Fin yelled, pushing Laura toward one row of cars while he sprang for the other.  

As soon as Simmons cleared the corner of the row of cars, he aimed his car directly at Laura.  She could see his red face, distorted with rage, teeth bared, as he bore down on her. She ran between two cars to avoid being crushed between Simmons’s Hyundai and their squad car.  He aimed at the space Laura had entered, his compact ramming violently into the cars on either side.  He immediately jammed the Hyundai into reverse, pulled back a few feet and, ramming the gearshift again, shot out the other end of the aisle before either Laura or Fin could get off an effective shot.

Laura slammed her hand down hard on the hood of a car and swore as Fin reached her.  

“You OK?”  He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking her over.  

“Yeah, yeah.  How is that car still drivable?  Just my luck, I get the stalker with the indestructible Hyundai.”

“Let’s call it in.”

 Rafael was stiff and quiet when he arrived at the station that evening to take Laura home. She knew without asking that someone had told him about the incident in the parking lot, which meant he was going to be implacable about making her leave town until Simmons was caught.  

It had been over a week that Laura hadn’t been allowed to work late or to go anywhere alone.  It drove her crazy, but even she had to admit it was necessary.  It would have been nice, working normal hours and going home with Rafael in time for dinner, if it hadn’t been for the reason. At first, they had enjoyed it and taken advantage of the opportunity to spend the long evenings in bed together. But as time had gone by, and Simmons had become more aggressive about stalking Laura, romance had given way to tension as Rafael had become more anxious for her safety, and Laura more determined to stay in New York and live her life as normally as possible.  With each incident, the strain got worse.  

As if by agreement, they didn’t discuss the situation on the drive home, or as they made dinner together, he dressed in jeans and a sweater, she dressed in sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt.  They both knew the situation had turned a corner.  

Rafael tried to be calm.  He knew they were going to have to have a very difficult conversation, but, for now, he just wanted to enjoy being with Laura.  He looked across the kitchen at her, looking cuter than anyone should look in their most casual clothes; hair in low pigtails, barefoot, cutting up vegetables for a salad.  As gorgeous as she looked in an evening gown with her hair and makeup perfect, as beautiful as she was in the street clothes she wore to work, he found her most irresistible like this; no makeup, hair haphazard, in grubby clothes that only incidentally revealed her curves.  This was a Laura that belonged only to him.  

“You’re staring at me,” she said, giving him a tentative grin.  

“Hard not to.  You’re pretty cute.”

Her smile became more genuine.  “I’m cute?  Have you seen you?”

Rafael took the few steps across the kitchen to where she was.  She turned to him, putting her arms around his neck as she drew her to him.  

“Te amo,”[2] he whispered into her hair.

“Me, too.”  

They stood there, simply holding one another, for quite some time.  They didn’t say anything out loud; there was no reason.  That evening, they flirted throughout dinner, talking about everything but Simmons.  By the time dinner was over, they weren’t in the mood to bother doing more than toss the dirty dishes in the sink before they hurried, kissing and removing clothes as they went, to their bedroom.  

The next morning, as she pulled on a leather jacket, Laura continued the conversation they’d finally begun shortly after waking. She did everything she could to try to convince Rafael that she needed to join her team in the hunt for the creep who was stalking her.  

“Why are we even talking about this?  This is my job.  It’s dangerous.  That’s just how it is.“

“Te amo, Laura, pero lo juro vas a ser mi muerte,”[3] Rafael muttered, shaking his head.

She tried another tack.  “I’m the one he’s looking for, Rafael.  They need me to…”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what they need.  You are not leaving this house.”  Laura had never heard the steel growl Rafael used.  She blinked in surprise.

“So, what?  I’m a prisoner now?”  She asked.

“If that’s what it takes.”  He looked her straight in the eyes.

“What?”

Rafael stepped closer to her.  He spoke in his usual rapid-fire manner, his voice low and serious.  “Laura, you are my wife.  Your life is more important to me than my own, and I am going to protect you, no matter how angry you get at me.  I will charge you with a crime if I have to, get you locked up where every cop in the city can watch out for you.  If you turn this into a battle of wills, you’ll find out you aren’t actually the stubborn one in this marriage.”  

Laura stared.  She’d seen him in this mood before, although it wasn’t usually directed at her.  It was useless to argue.  She’d seen the best defense lawyers in New York try.  She sighed and took her jacket back off.  

He started to say something, but Laura did not want to hear “Good girl.”  Or anything like it.  She cut him off.

“If you speak, I will taze you,” she said. Rafael stifled a smile.  

She was restless and hated what felt to her like making the rest of the team fight her battles.  But there was something deeply sexy about Rafael’s masculine protectiveness. His absolute demand that she stay safe made her feel loved and precious to him.  Even in this lousy situation, he managed to give her new reasons to love him.

Laura paced around the apartment, checking her phone every minute.  She knew Rafael was only pretending to work, watching and waiting to see if she would try to leave the apartment.  As she was looking at her phone for the millionth time that morning, there was a knock on the door.  

She stood at the end of the short hall, gun in hand, as Rafael looked out the peephole.

“It’s Liv,” he said, opening the door.

Olivia stepped in while Laura holstered her gun.

“Something’s happened.”  Rafael said.

“Yeah.  You guys are gonna want to pack.”

“What’s he done?”  Laura asked, moving a step closer.  

“His car’s outside.  With a body in it.”

“Outside.”  Rafael looked at Laura, then back to Olivia.  “Outside here?  This building?”

“Yeah.”

Laura gasped.  “How the hell does he know where we live?”

“Come on,  He knows everything about you.  And now he’s killed a woman.”

“What woman?”  Rafael’s voice was hard.

“One that looks enough like your wife to be her twin.”

“Fuck packing.  We’re out of here now.”  

“Rafa,” Olivia said, “You might as well take the time to pack.  Right now there’s just me and Fin.  In two minutes, there’s gonna be a hundred cops outside.  Take your time.  Call me when you’re ready, and we’ll get you to your car.”

An hour later, the CSU techs had checked Rafael and Laura’s car and found no sign of incendiary devices or tampering with the engine or brakes.  With their luggage hastily tossed in the back, Rafael drove out of the parking garage, out of the neighborhood, and out of the city.  With each mile, they both felt better.  Laura wanted to be working with her squad to catch Simmons, but she could feel Rafael’s anxiety melting away, which mattered more to her.  

“Any idea where we’re going?”  She asked as they emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel into the New Jersey sunshine.

“Where would you like to go, mi amor?[4]  The beach? The mountains?  North?  South?”

“Trenton.”

“Trenton!?”  

“Yeah.  Trenton. That way, there’s no reason to go out. We’ll just stay in our hotel room and I can have my way with you 24/7 until they catch Simmons.”

Laura enjoyed the first real laugh she’d heard from Rafael in a long time.  “Tell you what,” he said.  “Let’s go somewhere wonderful.  We can still just stay in our hotel room and you can have your way with me 24/7.  For as long as you want.”  The look he gave her shot jolts of electricity through her.

“Deal.  You do realize you’re hot as hell, right?”

Rafael just smiled.  

That evening, Rafael and Laura lay on the floor of a small but luxurious cabin in the Poconos, not far from where they’d spent their honeymoon.  They cuddled together in a nest of blankets and pillows they’d made in front of the fireplace.  

“You know the cliché about a bearskin rug in front of the fire?  No one ever tells you the bearskin rug is to cushion your spine from the floor,” Rafael mumbled.  His voice made a pleasant rumble in his bare chest where her head rested on it. 

“Pro tip.  When your wife rocks your world in front of a roaring fire, it’s very unromantic to complain about how hard the floor is.”  

“Sorry.”  

“But as long as we’re being honest, it is a little cold down here.  How about we get in bed and you can rock my world?”  

“Again?  If I’d known you were so demanding, I’d never have married you.”

“Oh, there is so much wrong with that statement. First, you did know how demanding I am. Second, you love how demanding I am. Third, you would still have married me, because you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

“Guilty.  On all counts.”  He tightened his arms around her and kissed her on top of her head, then stood up and helped her to her feet.  

 They were awakened somewhere near dawn by a muted crash. Both Rafael and Laura immediately woke, even from their sated, exhausted sleep.  They sprang apart, leapt from bed and hastily pulled on the closest clothes. Laura signaled Rafael for quiet. Taking her Glock from the bedside table, she flipped off the safety and stepped to him, whispering in his ear.  

“Go in the bathroom and lock the door.  Call for help.  Don’t open the door, no matter what you hear,” she hissed.  

“I’m not gonna let you-“

“Hazlo!”[5]  She whispered harshly.  “I need to know you’re safe, so I can concentrate on him.”  She stepped, barefoot and silent, toward the other room of the cabin, pulling the door nearly closed behind her.

She peered around the cabin’s greatroom, but didn’t see anything out of place.  She slid her back along the wall toward the door as quietly as she could, intending to surprise Simmons when he tried to get in.  She guessed that the sound that had awakened them was Simmons breaking a pane on the front door of the cabin, so she looked for movement there.  She didn’t see any.  When she was as close as she intended to get to the door, she stopped moving and waited.  

She didn’t wait long.  As she stood against the wall, weapon aimed at the floor, looking toward the door, she heard a sound to her left and turned to see Art Simmons swinging a baseball bat at her.  She had just enough time to turn to the side and put her arm up, which prevented the bat from hitting her head, but she was still knocked off her feet by the force of the blow.  She uttered a loud grunt as her impact with the floor struck the Glock from her hand, It went skittering along the pine flooring.  

Simmons roared as he lifted the bat over his head and brought it crashing down on the spot where Laura had been the instant before. She rolled toward him, using her weight against his ankles to unbalance him.  He moved his feet to regain his balance, giving her the opportunity to grab his left leg as he shifted his weight to his right.  He slammed to the ground with a yell.  

“You fucking bitch!”

Simmons rolled to his knees as Laura scuttled away from him.  He pulled a jagged hunting knife from a sheath on his belt.  

“I told you I was gonna rip you apart!  I loved you!”  

He threw himself at her, knife held in his fist, and there wasn’t enough room between him and the wall to evade him completely. He landed on her right leg, which still left her able to kick viciously at his face with her left.  He twisted his neck to avoid most of the force, and grabbed her ankle to pull her toward him, using his knife hand on the floor to lift himself further onto her.  Again he raised the knife, this time able to use his weight to keep her from pulling away from him.  She reached up, grabbing his forearm with both hands to hold the knife away from her.  She screamed wordlessly with the effort of pushing with all the strength she had in both arms to keep him from burying the knife in her chest.

“I know that man is here, you cheating whore.  I don’t care about him.  He’s nothing to us.  It’s you!  You just won’t love me!  Why are you so cold?”  He began to cry as he continued to pull down on his arm, trying to stab her with the wicked blade.  

She tried to twist the knife out of his hand, but he was much stronger than she was, with wrists as thick as her forearms.  The knife moved ever closer to her chest as she tried to kick her legs free from under him.  

“He can’t have you!”  Simmons sobbed.  “You’re making me kill you!  It’s the only way to make you mine forever!  And then I’ll do myself, and we can be together.” 

He suddenly yanked his knife arm up, hard, pulling it out of Laura’s hands.  She was surprised, but used his movement to pull her left leg out from under him, bending her knee and pushing as hard as she could against his abdomen with her foot to get him off of her.  As he was reared up, preparing to thrust the knife down into her chest, a blast thundered through the room and he went still.

For a split second, Laura couldn’t figure out what was happening, but when he began to fall toward her, she used her leg and her arms to shove him away from her with all her strength.  He fell to the floor, limp and heavy, and didn’t move.  In the dim light, she first saw the pool of blood begin to spread beneath his head, then focused on the ragged hole above his left eyebrow.  

She rolled over onto her elbows, gasping from exertion, and looked back toward the bedroom door to see Rafael standing there, still holding her Glock aimed at Simmons.  For a long moment, they simply stared, openmouthed, at one another, both panting.  

“¿Estas bien?”[6] He asked quietly.

“Sí. ¿Tú?”[7]  

“No se.”[8]

Laura got to her feet as Rafael flipped on the safety of the gun and set it quickly onto the heavy oak table in the kitchen area of the room as though he couldn’t get rid of it fast enough.  They rushed to clasp each other, beginning to dimly hear sirens in the distance.  

“He was going to kill you.”

“Not with you around.”

“Laura…”  Rafael crushed her to him, burying his face in her hair.  

“It’s OK, mi amor, it’s OK…”

They were both beginning to shake now that the surges of adrenaline had stopped.  They stood holding one another, waiting for whoever belonged to the approaching sirens.

“I had to shoot him.”  Rafael murmured.

“Yes.  You did. He would’ve killed me.”

“We’re messing up the evidence, you know.  I’m getting gunshot residue on you.”

“Hold me anyway,” she whispered, tightening her arms around him.  “You saved my life.  Thank you.”

“It was my turn.”

Soon, the crunch of tires on the gravel and flashes of red and white light announced the arrival of at least two police cruisers. Still holding Laura’s hand, Rafael led her around Simmons’s body to the door, and turned on the lights.  He opened the door, but they didn’t step out.

“Nobody’s armed,” he called.  “We’re coming out.”

Slowly, hands first, Rafael and then Laura stepped out onto the porch to see three Pocono Mountain Regional Police cruisers and six officers, guns drawn, fanned across the front of the cabin.  

“Is the intruder still inside?”  One of the officers called to them.

“Yes,” Laura called back, “But he’s dead.”

All six officers stood up from their defensive positions behind cars and car doors, holstering their weapons.  The one who had spoken stepped around the front of his cruiser and up onto the porch.  He looked Rafael and Laura over, noting a few smears of blood on her.

“Weapon’s on the table,” Rafael told him.  

“All right, you two step over here while we take a look.” The officer indicated the end of the porch, away from the door.  “You sure he’s dead?”

“We’re sure,” Rafael answered.  

They moved to the side of the porch, putting an arm around one another where they stood.  As several of the officers entered the house, Rafael noticed that the planks of the porch were cold on his bare feet, and the night air raised goosflesh on his bare chest.  Laura was also barefoot, wearing only his T-shirt over a pair of flannel pants.  Two of the officers stepped over to them as the others began their work inside.

“Are we waiting for a crime scene unit?”  Rafael asked.  “It’s cold out here and we could use some more clothes if you need us to stay outside.”

“Let’s give the Sarge a minute inside, and we’ll see what we can do.  So, what happened here tonight?”  

So began a long process that lasted well into the morning. Olivia and Fin arrived shortly after sunrise to find Rafael, now fully dressed, being questioned on the couch in the greatroom of the cabin.  Laura, still barefoot, but now wearing jeans and a sweater that obviously belonged to Rafael, was sitting in a rocking chair in the bedroom giving her statement.  Both looked composed, although Rafael’s mouth was set in a grim line and he was slouched down.  Olivia wasn’t surprised.  Rafael had never had to kill anyone before.  She knew well the feelings that came with even the most righteous of shootings.  She made a mental note to make sure he took the necessary steps to work through it.

Simmons’s body was still there, undisturbed since the shooting.  They were still waiting for a Pennsylvania state crime scene team to arrive.  Olivia guessed that the paper bags sealed with evidence tape on the table contained the clothes Laura and Rafael had been wearing when the shooting occurred.

Olivia quickly identified the officer in charge of the scene and introduced herself and Fin, explaining that this was the culmination of a case her unit had been working.  Once the introductions were accomplished, Fin went into the bedroom to Laura, who hugged him long and hard.  He knew she and Rafael couldn’t be questioned together, and he also knew she would be needing some support right now.  He knew better than most what lay beneath her tough façade.  In her place, he would have appreciated her silent presence, too.  So he simply stood next to her as a local detective continued to take her statement.

“So what was this guy’s beef with you?”

“I arrested him on suspicion of a rape about six months ago.  He wasn’t our doer, but he became fixated on me.  I started to see him, hanging around the station house and the courthouse. For the last two months, he’s been outside the station almost every day.  He’s also been in the courtroom every time I’ve had to testify.  I have no idea how he knew when that would be, but there he was.”

“Did he talk to you?”

“Not at first.  But about a month and a half ago, he started sending me things.  Flowers, with creepy messages about how he loved me. The next time I saw him outside the station, I confronted him.  He acted like he was terrified of me, and ran away.  But he didn’t stop.  He started sending more presents to the station; candy, balloons, jewelry; always with a creepy message, but not threatening until the last couple of weeks. The messages started to be accusatory. ‘You’re cheating on me’, ‘why won’t you love me’, that kind of thing.  And then, last week, he went completely off the rails.”

She explained the last few incidents.

“How did he find you here?”  The detective asked.

“Good question.  We figure he must’ve put a GPS tracker on our car.  He’s a weird mix of crazy and smart.  He’s no criminal mastermind, but he had some surprisingly good stalker skills.”  

“Our crime scene team will check your car when they get here.  If there’s a tracking device, we’ll need to impound it.”

 “You said the lights weren’t on.”  The officer in charge asked Rafael.  “How’d you drill the guy with a perfect head shot in the dark?”

“Look around.  This cabin is tiny.  I was standing in the doorway of the bedroom.  Look where the body is.  That’s, what? Five feet?  Not much of a shot.”

“You have firearms training?”

“Depends how you define training.  I’m married to a cop who keeps a firearm.  Our jobs, we make enemies.  So we joined a gun club and I learned to shoot.  We have a standing date once a month when we go for target practice.”

 Eventually, the crime scene van arrived and did the expected tests and examinations of Rafael and Laura.  They photographed Laura’s minor injuries and tested their hands for gunshot residue.   At last, they were free to go, although the police impounded Rafael and Laura’s car which had, in fact, been fit with a GPS tracker.  

The four New Yorkers wearily piled into the squad car Olivia and Fin had arrived in.  None of them expected any trouble to come out of the shooting.  

Rafael lay at an angle across the back seat, with Laura lying against him, their arms around each other.  She looked up at him.

“You OK?”

He frowned.  “I think so. I guess we’ll see.  Life with you isn’t going to be boring, is it?”

“Right this minute, I could use a little boring.” With that, she laid her head back down on his chest.

Fin, who usually drove because he was a terrible passenger, was the only one still awake when they reached the New Jersey border.  

[1] Fuck!

[2] I love you.

[3] I love you, Laura, but I swear you’re going to be the death of me.

[4] My love

[5] Do it!

[6] Are you OK?

[7] Yes.  You?

[8] I don’t know.