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curious-menace · 4 years

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Arkham Scarecrow SFW Alphabet

im really enjoying writing arkham scarecrow. maybe ill do something similar to my random riddler headcanons posts with some scarecrows

long post under the cut

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Uhhh, the short answer is no. Jonathan is almost wholly incapable of what most people would term “affection”. His idea of loving is not using you for his experiments, only giving you small doses to build up your immunity( not that that will stop him from enjoying watching you panic). Jonathan leans heavily on gifts and words of affirmation as his language of love ( assuming he can even feel that emotion). He calls you “my dear” and “my darling” or once “my pumpkin” if he had too much to drink.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jonathan would make a good friend if he could ever be wrangled into admitting it. He’s a complete bastard, but he's a loyal bastard. He always goes above and beyond for his friends but it's always in a “aw shit. My favorite idiot needs help AGAIN?!” begrudging , kind of way. You probably met in university/college and if you've stuck with him this long he’d be hard to get rid of.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He never asks for cuddles and is pretty touch adversed as a rule. Sometimes though, He simply plonks himself in your space and expects you to know what he wants. Usually it's gentle backrubs/strokes like you would with a child. Sometimes he just wants your warmth to sooth his aching body. He’s heavier than he was in Arkham asylum but still very underweight so you shouldn't have too much trouble moving him into a comfortable position.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Absolutely not. I'm not convinced this man owns more than his books and the burlap sack on his back ,never mind a home. He has plans to take the cloudburst on tour, to go cross country and then across the world spreading fear. That would be a little difficult if he had gotham mortgage sending him nasty emails every other day about missed payments. While he can cook and clean, I doubt you'd want to eat anything he made. Ignoring his filthy hands, he's probably laced it with fear toxin or a lethal amount of hot sauce.

His homemade cleaning chemicals are pretty stellar mind you. They can get blood, piss or tears out of anything.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Scarecrow really is a ride or die kinda guy. If you've wormed your way into his life then he’s going to do literally everything and anything to keep you in it. He’s not above making you dependent on him for safety just to keep you around longer. He’s not a total monster to the people he cares about mind you. If you really didn't want to be with him, he’d let you go….eventually.

I'm not sure he fully understands the concept of a “breakup”on his end. He gets that you don't see eachother anymore but I don't think he quite grasps that it's not because one party is dead. There's a 99% chance he’ll use you for his fear toxin experiments as a way of kicking you to the kerb. If you wake up in a ditch with a text that says “we’re through” you should consider yourself lucky.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I canon arkham scarecrow as having been engaged at one point in his life, possibly around the time of origins. I can imagine his partner gave him a “me or the fear toxin” ultimatum which has led to the man you know now. Despite how he looks, how he speaks and acts, he’s still open to the idea of a partner. He’s a loyal man who can't stand backstabbers, he’d appreciate someone like a spouse/husband/wife to have his back. If he decided he wanted to get married he’d propose almost immediately. It might be more of a business or thesis type proposal with lots of talking rather than flowers and wine and you're likely to be married as soon as you said yes.

He has a tiny pumpkin ring saved for the occasion. Something like this (image credit https://www.banggood.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s gentle, in a creepy way unsurprisingly. He was a little stronger than the average man before the incident with croc, all that cardio and fighting with batman made him a skinny legend amongst the rogues for how well he could fight. Now? He couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Mostly he's calm and soft, especially when you wouldn't expect him to be. He can still be an emotionally manipulative person but chances are good you're smart enough to see right through him. Calling him on his bs is actually a good way to endear yourself to him. He likes a challenge and he loves it when people think they can outsmart him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hmm. yes and no. Scarecrow is severely touch adversed, but...It's not like with Riddler; Edward is on the autism spectrum and genuinely gets overstimulated by a lot of physical contact, he doesn't usually enjoy it unless under specific circumstances. Scarecrow WANTS to be hugged and held on occasion, but the mere thought of someone in his personal bubble sends his hackles up.

When he first woke up after the asylum, he clung to you like a lampent. Scarecrow gives and recieves hugs like someone who needs them to breath.Your warmth soothes the aching pain when even drugs couldn't . By the time of Arkham Knight he’s grown cold and distant. His hugs are few and far between and unusually half hearted even when he initiates them. Maybe he’s just preoccupied with batman.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I doubt he’d ever say the words ``i love you” but he’s absolutely going to quote love poetry at you, recite lines from his favorite literature “shall i compare you to a summer's day” and all that. That’s far better than a simple “i love you” right?

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jonathan is sort of one note when it comes to expressing frustration. Coffee machine not working? Melt it down into fear toxin vials. Line at the grocery store? Gas everyone out of his way. He doesnt get mad, he gets even. He’s not a super jealous person, he’s probably the most secure in himself out of all the rogues in Gotham bar Selina and ivy. But when something does hit his jealousy bone just right? LORD HE IS TERRIBLE.

Unless you were the instigator, you are 100% safe but the poor soul who made the mistake of flirting with you will never see the light of day again.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He can't really kiss to be honest. He lacks a lot of lip tissue and tongue dexterity for deep smooching. He’s quite happy to give you little pecks on the cheek but anywhere else will get sloppy and he's not a fan of that. Jonathan has actually started to bump you with his head like a cat in lieu of kisses. Rare as it is, when he wants kisses he has a tendency to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or rest his head on your shoulder. He likes to be kissed on the cheek , forehead and top of his head. Most other places are covered in scars and lack the sensitivity to enjoy it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes to scare kids. It's not as malicious as it is with adults, he just likes to yell boo at them, smiling as they scream and giggle and run away. It's probably the most innocent he’ll act around other people. He still doesnt like them per say but he’ll tolerate them in small doses.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Scarecrow , like most rogues, is not a morning person. He doesn't sleep well and he is hella grumpy when he first wakes up. Expect to watch him shuffle around his hideout like a zombie, still wearing a quilt and his dressing gown as he complains about everything from the weather to the loud creaking of the floorboards. You should present him with food and coffee and then retreat to a safe distance until he’s fully awake, otherwise he’s liable to turn on his grumpy old man routine on you. If he's feeling particularly sore or needy, he’ll ask you to help change his bandages and dressings .

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It really depends on what he feels like in the moment. Sometimes he’ll leave you at home while he goes out to cause general mischief, sometimes he’ll bring you along as a look out. Sometimes it's a low-key night at the hideout reading and sometimes it's a caffeine fueled frenzie of experimentation and lab work with you as his trusty lab assistant. He doesn't sleep well at night, the aches keep him up. If he were ever to actually go to bed he might find that you make a great pillow.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As much as he resents people having the upperhand with information, it's hard not for people to see his past. His scars are so easily visible, inside and out. He doesn't talk about his past unless prompted. But if you do he’ll quite happily answer all your questions; he’s not afraid of discussing it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Jonathan is a very patient man, not just when it comes to revenge.It takes quite a lot to make him fly off the handle and he cools off again quickly. That's not to say he doesn't hold a grudge like he’s being paid for it, only that it's more of a simmering anger rather than a boiling one.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers most things about you, he has an excellent memory. But that being said he never lets on that he knows these things. He likes to hear you talk about the things that interest you, even if you've told him about it before. Watching you wax lyrical about your chosen subject makes him feel close to you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

I don't know if it's a favorite or even a positive memory but when he first woke up from surgery after croc you were lying beside him. He was understandably confused, maybe even afraid, but seeing you there brought him great comfort. He didn't know what was happening because of all the meds, but as long as you were with him he was confident things would work out for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He means well, you should always keep that in mind before you snap at him. He brought you to the arkham knights HQ to protect you from his plans, he’s given you micro doses of fear toxin to build your resistance and by the time of arkham knight you can hardly move for the amount of guards he has following you around. He’s overbearing bordering on controlling but I think it's because he simply can't admit the thought of losing you scares him, even just a little. You aren't a rogue, you don't know Batman like they do. He just needs to keep you safe from batman, from the police and from the ugly world outside.

Given how weak he’s been viewed practically all his life, I believe he’d resent the accusation he needed protecting. deep in his mind he knows no one man is an island. He appreciates little helps even if he won't say it. He doesn't need protection per say but If nothing else, after being injected with his new toxin, he's going to need someone who’s corpus mentis in his corner for court and medical proceedings.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

His idea of a perfect date is you two working on your respective projects in comfortable silence, maybe a trip to the museum if he feels like the exercise. Obviously that suits some people down to the ground, myself included, but he gets that it's not for everyone. He’s probably ok with you planning the activities provided you warn him beforehand.

Given everything he’s been planning for batman, things like important dates and even everyday tasks have a tendency to get lost in the fray. He's not doing it on purpose, He’s glad to celebrate these things with you if you remind him, He's just got his priorities in a funny order.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He shuffles his feet when he walks and is one of those people who always has conversations in doorways. You can never be sure he isn't aware of these habits and is doing them on purpose. He also used to smoke quite heavily but has since given it up due to his throat and lung issues.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It's sort of a mixed bag with him. On the one hand he knows he’s ugly, that's the point. You're MEANT to be scared looking at him, he’s leaning into it. But on the other hand his “look” is a carefully maintained visage; if it slips it might lose the intended effect. He might not be as scary to look at or worse, people might look at him in pity. It's not ordinary vanity or narcissism but yes, he is concerned with maintaining the way he looks

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The concept of feeling whole is somewhat lost on him; He’s clearly missing a few screws even in his most lucid moments. That said even in the depths of madness brought on by his toxin, he still notices your absence. Still incredibly distressed In his cell in blackgate, he can often be heard crying out to you for comfort but is lacking the wherewithal to understand why you're not there.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Given that he has pretty extensive facial injuries, eating is pretty difficult for him. He used to really enjoy bagels and cubanos from gothams many deli’s. His favorite was a kosher deli in The Cauldron, before Joker ruined it. They’ve since rebuilt and while he can't eat many solids anymore , he still enjoys their matzo soup and smoothies.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Like most of the rogues, he absolutely can't stand bullies.He also can't stand physically aggressive people; if you're going to even TRY and intimidate him maybe you could use your words like someone with more than 2 brain cells to rub together, rare as that is in gotham. Back when he was a psychiatrist he hated people who were chronically late. Not his patients, most of the time it wasn't their fault due to executive dysfunction or traffic, but people who kept HIM back and made HIM late were the bane of his existence.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Crane is a back sleeper who snores because of his damaged septum.He knows he makes a noise akin to a flip flop in a lawn mower but there is literally nothing he can do about it besides sleep on his stomach. He squirms around a lot in his sleep so even if he starts on his stomach, he’ll be on his back snoring like a dead horse in no time. The only thing that could keep him frontwise is if he were to sleep on you and have you hold him in place.

#Sfw alphabet #scarecrow #jonathan crane #headcanons #scarecrow headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff

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fanfic-corner · 4 years

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Writer Castiel

4/12/20 - I have wanted to be a writer since I was ten years old, so maybe I’m biased here, but I absolutely adore the idea of Cas being an author if he lived a different life!

Tabula Rasa by Dangerousnotbroken on AO3. (78,240 words).

Tags: Writer Castiel, Bartender Dean, Past Relationship, Pervasive Themes of Memory, Magic, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of alcoholism, Mentions of Past Child Neglect, Mental Illness, Witches, Ghosts, Bi!Dean, Bi!Castiel, Referenced Past Minor Character Death, Angst, Slow Burn, Memory Loss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Once upon a time, Castiel Novak had everything. He had a happy home life, a full scholarship, and, if he played his cards right, a promising journalism career. And on top of all of that, he had Dean. Then tragedy struck, as it tends to do, and Castiel lost everything. At thirty six, he’s got none of those things. He’s got no family to speak of. He’s got a job investigating purportedly true tales of the supernatural for a magazine no one reads. And worst of all he hasn’t seen Dean in nearly twenty years. So when research for an article turns him on to a witch who apparently grants wishes in exchange for stories, Castiel figures it’s worth the risk. If making a deal with a witch can get him Dean back, what has he got to lose?

Notes: This was absolutely amazing; both written beautifully and with a fantastic plot.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance on AO3. (31,820 words).

Tags: Horror, Psychological Trauma, Domestic Violence.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh. But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Notes: Excellently written, made me cry, and the ending was brilliant. Technically it isn’t tagged as Cas being a writer, but he does write some poetry throughout, and I couldn’t help myself.

Lost and Found by whelvenwings on AO3. (7,762 words).

Tags: Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Demisexual Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “Chuck Shurley? Sure, I’ve read his books. Kinda Vonnegut, but like, Kilgore-Trout Vonnegut, you know?” Dean took another gulp of his whisky, and smacked his lips like an adult. The guy sitting beside him at the bar, however, did not look suitably impressed. In fact, he was staring down into the bubbles of his cider, not even noticing the way that Dean was smiling at him, giving him the eyes. “I thought his stuff was pretty good, in a kinda metamodern way,” Dean added airily, and a little more loudly. The guy only nodded gloomily. Dean almost clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in frustration. C’mon, dude, I’m trying to impress you. Twenty minutes of talking and all Dean had to show for it was a weird first name, a series of dour stares and the strangest need to know more about this – Castiel.

Notes: This was written so well that I wanted to cry at Cas’ story of the stars, even though it wasn’t particularly sad. Now I want to go and stargaze with someone.

The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas on AO3. (111,351 words).

Tags: Single Parent Castiel, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Hurt Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Car Accidents, Past Character Death, Adopted Children, Mentions of Suicide, Slow Burn, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Near Death Experiences, Hospitals, Explicit Sexual Content, POV Dean.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is on the run from his life. He's done something unforgivable, and can't face his family or friends ever again. So he does what any rational person would do: fakes his own death and vanishes into the ether. Wandering aimlessly along country roads, he succumbs to the elements during a violent storm and wakes up hours later in the home of a stranger: a single dad living alone in an isolated beach house, with a haunting past of his own. Cas is sweet and shy, but welcomes Dean into his home and tells him he can stay as long as he needs, never prying into his life or asking him to spill his secrets. As they rapidly forge a close friendship, Dean finds that the quiet life by the ocean with Cas is exactly what he's been dreaming of. He only hopes his past never catches up with him.

Notes: This was so gorgeous and the plot was fabulous! Also, I loved Jimmy, and Dean and Cas as parents were adorable. Weirdest use of Cole’s character that I’ve ever seen though.

What Can’t Be Seen by destieldrabblesdaily on AO3. (2,639 words).

Tags: Soulmate AU, author!Cas, Strangers to Lovers, First Kiss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Written for this prompt: Soulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

Notes: This was really cute and such a sweet and funny idea.

(un)conventional by imogenbynight on AO3. (6,100 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, mechanic!Dean, Writer!Castiel, Conventions, Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Spec Lit Con--Speckly Con, to it’s regular attendees--is an annual weekend-long event held in Chicago, dedicated to science fiction, fantasy and otherwise speculative literature. This year Dean's favorite author, C.J. Novak, is appearing as a panelist. Naturally, he shells out the cash for an all access pass.

Notes: This was so adorable that I nearly screamed in the corridor outside my computer science lesson. Plus, the writing was absolutely gorgeous! I miss conventions :(

I Think That’s Mine by palominopup on AO3. (6,804 words).

Tags: Fluff, AU, Reporter!Dean, Writer!Cas.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: A mix up at the Atlanta Airport places Dean Winchester's laptop in someone else's possession. A series of calls and texts bring two men together.

Notes: This was so cute, Cas was so sweet, and Dean was an icon.

‘Star Wars is Overrated’ by leftdragonpainter on AO3. (38,186 words).

Tags: Soulmates, Pining, Drinking, Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Neighbours, Swearing, Winchester Logic, Clueless Dean, College Student Sam, Awkward Dates, Dean Cooks, Castiel in Glasses, Slow Burn, Injured Sam, Fixing Cars, Smut, Costumes, Drunk Texting, Temporary Amnesia, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: When Dean Winchester turned sixteen he was disappointed by the words that appeared on his chest. He never expected that it would take so much to find his soulmate. He never expected to not remember meeting them...

Tags: Every time I thought I knew what was going to happen in this fic, something completely different happened, which I loved.

Event Horizon by Winglesss on AO3. (6,442 words).

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel, Strangers.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Notes: I don’t know if that kind of suicide prevention scheme exists, but this fic is very sweet.

Darkly Dreaming Dean by Duckyboos on AO3. (29,008 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Police, Detective Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Serial Killer Dean, Alternate Universe - Dexter, Established Relationship, Murder, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, Anal Sex, Innocent Castiel.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester has the perfect apple pie life with his shy-but-sweet boyfriend in the suburbs. He has a steady, well-paid job with the LAPD and he’s charming and attractive. Really, he’s living the American Dream. It’s his extra-curricular activities that some may disagree with, as he’s also an accomplished serial killer. To date, his kills amount to around 36 and he’s never been caught. He’s employed by the law, remember? He knows how these things work.

A new serial killer arrives on the scene and despite the sloppiness of their work, Dean is intrigued by them and what they're trying to achieve, because their MO is the same as his; killing bad people. He makes it his mission to track the other killer down before the police do, and he’s left reeling when the 'Basin Vigilante' turns out to be someone a lot closer to home than he could have ever imagined.

Notes: I sort of watched Dexter a few years ago, and I absolutely love the idea of Dean as a vigilante serial killer. I only wish that the synopsis was a bit different, so the end was more of a surprise.

Finding Home by Desirae on AO3. (42,828 words).

Tags: Baker Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, PTSD, Past Childhood Trauma, Childhood Kidnapping, Mistaken Identity, Dean Whump, Castiel Whump, Best Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester lived a quiet life running his bakery. Aside from family, Dean had no desire to let anyone inside. The more people you cared about, the more you had to lose; A hard lesson he'd learned at the tender age of eight when Dean’s best friend was kidnapped right before his eyes. Dean was forever haunted by the event, although he hadn’t realized quite how much until Emmanuel James Milton breezed into his life; waking his sleeping heart with a complete lack filter and achingly familiar eyes. An author, with no family and traumatic past of his own, Emmanuel never felt like he belonged anywhere until he walked into The Honeybee Bakery and met Dean. It’s not long before they find out that there is a reason for their profound bond.

Notes: It was obvious what was going on here from the start, but that just made it even cuter as they fell in love again.

I think it is a shame we didn’t get more human Cas content, but I guess it is too late now. I hope you enjoy these fics, and if you ever have a specific list you want me to make, feel free to ask!

#writer cas #castiel #supernatural #ficrecs #fanfics #destiel #dexter #soulmate au

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lonestarbabe · 4 years

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Saving The Child Inside

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

[AO3]

Growing up as Sam Avery's son wasn't easy for TK. His abusive upbringing left him with a wealth of trauma that he couldn't bring himself to face, even as an adult, but for all the bad, TK's life in Austin brought him a lot of good. He married his high school sweetheart, Carlos, and he became a firefighter like he had always dreamt he would be. But for all he had managed to make something of his life, there's still a hurt, lost child inside TK, a child who wants to found, and mostly, that child wants to be loved.

(I have rewritten the first several chapters, which have been condensed into one chapter, and then, I will be adding new content starting in chapter 2).

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

It had been three months since T.K. had any drugs or alcohol, and he was long past the withdrawal phase of getting better, but it still made him sick to think that he could never touch a drug again. It’s going to stick this time, he promised himself. It never sticks, the critical voice in his head added. You always mess up, so you might as well just give up now. Despite the nagging thought that he was doomed for failure, T.K. didn’t have plans to go back to his old ways, and in that moment, he didn’t want to do drugs ever again. But the thought that he could never have substances again without the risk of a complete spiral made T.K.’s hands shake with apprehension. He thought of all the wedding toasts he’d have to miss, all the nights getting wasted in clubs in a way that was called fun instead of abuse, and all late nights with a date and a bottle of wine. Oxy was easier to escape in normal social functions, but he’d always be a little too fond at the mere thought of it.

There was an itchiness that prickled his core, pulling at his middle with a sloppy mix of feelings he couldn’t distinguish beyond being uncomfortable. The itch made him restless, and without the time-warp of being high, T.K. didn’t know how to keep himself busy. But he still stayed away from substances. All of them. He hadn’t even had coffee; though, he knew his resolve wouldn’t last on that front because there was only so much abstinence that he could he handle and only so much hollowness that he could take. He would need something eventually, even if that thing was a weak, watery stand-in for what he wanted. He’d knew that he’d always be an addict.

He didn’t mind being clean—sober, he reminded himself because the substances had never been what made his skin feel grimy and his insides feel like dust was perpetually compacted in all the hollow spaces—but sobriety would always bore him, like driving through a flat stretch of middle-America in a silent car on an overcast day, but it was better than the alternative. T.K. couldn’t put Carlos through more than he already had, so he suffered through the restlessness and tried to remind himself why he didn’t want to die.

The boredom had worsened since T.K. wasn’t working. T.K. yearned to return to the 126, even though he knew it was going to bring up thoughts that he’d tried to chase away with substances and an ill-fated overdose/suicide attempt. Working would give him something to do. His mind still whirled with the memory of that day, but sitting at home made him feel useless. Guilt ate at him as he thought about Carlos at work while T.K. sat on his ass. He wasn’t fulfilling his role in their household. I’m going to change that. I’ll go back to work, and some of the colors will come back into my life. It won’t always be this gray.

Bouncing his leg up and down to rid his body of some its excess energy, T.K. was not-so-patiently waiting for his husband to come home. He hated how trapped in his thoughts he became when no one else was around to keep his head away from everything else. He could have called Carlos’ mother. She’d decided to work less when she turned fifty-five, but it drove her crazy to have nothing to do, so Andrea Reyes would have gladly come over to keep T.K. company if he had asked. She’d been doing that a lot lately, probably at Carlos’ behest, but T.K. didn’t want to burden anyone with his issues more than he had to. I’ve been doing that enough lately.

T.K. couldn’t stop checking his phone. Carlos was late, and T.K. couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst. He imagined Carlos blown up or shot down, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that something bad had happened. Carlos was the kind of guy to be on time, and while being a social worker meant that Carlos had some late nights, he usually told T.K. if he got caught up in something at work, and ever since the explosion, Carlos had been cutting those late nights short. T.K. knew it was because Carlos worried what would happen if T.K. was alone too long. Selfishly, T.K. was relieved when Carlos came home early, even if he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

He thought it would be good to get dinner started, but T.K. knew his limits, and he knew he wasn’t the best cook. He could throw together a meal if things had returned to normal, but he still had trouble motivating his body to do the things that he asked of it, so he sat with his worry. Every separation sends a fresh surge of anxiety through each of them, but they were trying to be better.

Still, there was only so much that T.K. could take, so he exhaled when Carlos came through the door, carrying a couple bags of groceries on the floor when T.K. got up and threw his arms around Carlos in record time. T.K. smiled. “Babe, hi.”

Carlos returned the smile and kissed T.K. on the forehead. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to stop at the store and get some stuff for dinner.”

“I wasn’t worried,” T.K. said too quickly.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“Just fidgety,” T.K. said, hoping there was no waver in his voice.

“You can’t lie to your husband.”

“You weren’t home, and I just thought—” T.K. shook his head. “It’s been hard.”

“I’m okay. You’re okay. Right?”

T.K. rubbed Carlos’ shoulders, trying to ease the knots. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m glad you’re home. I’m bored here all alone.” After giving T.K. another kiss, Carlos moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries and start dinner. He pulled out a pot, filling it with water and putting it on the burner.

T.K. followed Carlos to the kitchen. “What are you making?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

T.K. felt warmth radiate in his chest, and he wanted to pull his husband to bed and never leave. “That’s the second time this week.”

“Are you getting sick of it?” Carlos said and then yawned.

“You know it’s my favorite.” One of T.K.’s earliest memories was being around three years old, and his mom made him macaroni and cheese. He remembered little about his mother. She was gone shortly after that memory, but macaroni and cheese always made him think of her. He remembered her smiling at him as she put the food in the bowl in front of him. “I ate it every day for two months after I left home. I didn’t get sick of it then, and I won’t get sick of it now either.”

Carlos ignited the burner, and as the fire fanned out before settling to its normal intensity, T.K. felt his heartbeat trot, and he couldn’t take his eyes from the flame.

“About leaving home. There’s something you should know.” Carlos’ tone was dark in a way that it hadn’t been since T.K.’s dad had turned up to their wedding uninvited two years prior. A shiver ran through his spine. “I saw your dad today. He’s back in town.” T.K.’s eyes snapped up.

T.K. fell back onto a stool next to the counter. “Oh?” he said, voice pulled like a rubber band just before it snapped. “I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”

“I heard he went to Florida.”

“He’s here now,” Carlos replied somberly. “I don’t know for how long or why, but he’s here.”

“Did you talk to him?” T.K. prayed the answer was no. He didn’t want Carlos to get too close. T.K. didn’t think Carlos was in danger, but Sam Avery was toxic.

Carlos shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything good, so it’s probably best that I didn’t, but no, I just saw him at the market. He didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“I’m not even sure he knows your name. He only acknowledges me when he wants to make my life hell.” T.K. wasn’t bitter. He really wasn’t. He was tired of the bullshit that his dad brought into his life. “I wish that bastard would get out of Austin.”

“He should be in jail.” Carlos set a second pot for the cheese sauce down on the stovetop with a thud. T.K. startled. “Sorry,” Carlos said, looking guilty. The water on the stove was boiling, bubbles becoming more aggressive.

“I don’t want him in jail, but I want him away from me,” T.K. replied. “I can’t let him back into my life.” I can’t deal with him and staying sober. I’ll lose my mind if he tries to pry his way back into my life.

“I won’t let him get near you,” Carlos promised, and T.K. knew that for all Carlos meant his words that his dad wasn’t the type of guy who respected boundaries. If his dad wanted to get to T.K., he probably would. T.K. didn’t think the old drunkard cared enough to go out of his way, though. He was hoping desperately that that’s the case. Sam had told T.K. that he wasn’t worth the time hundreds of times, and T.K. didn’t want to be worth the time.

Carlos poured the macaroni into the pot, and the water foamed before settling.

“I’m not a helpless little kid anymore,” T.K.’s voice trembled. He was not one, but the helpless little kid lived inside him, scared and hoping that someone would care enough to let him out of the dark room he’d been shoved into. “I don’t know why he still gets to me.”

“It’s normal to hold onto things. I’m still mad at Willie Johnson for throwing a rock at my head in first grade.”

“Willie Johnson is has always been a jerk. I’d be mad too.”

“Yeah, but if I can hold on to that memory, it’s normal that you’d still feel hurt over the things your dad did, which were a hell of a lot worse than a rock to the head in first grade.”

“Dad wasn’t that bad.” You’ve always been sensitive. He only hurt you because you were too sensitive.

“I won’t spare any kind words for that man.”

“He’s still my dad.”

Carlos bit his lip as he put the milk, salt, pepper, cornstarch, and ground mustard into the roux pot and brought that mix to a boil. He got out the block of sharp white cheddar and shred it, taking his frustrations out on the cheese.

“What are you not telling me?”

Carlos put the cheese down. “I think you should get a restraining order.”

“That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“What if he finds us here?” Carlos asked. “I don’t trust that he won’t track us down.”

“What’s he going to do? He’s got a lot of bark but not a lot of bite.” T.K. shook his head. “A restraining order won’t keep him away. If he wants to find us, he will, regardless of what the law says. He might break the order just to spite the law.”

“He’s dangerous,” Carlos said, voice going shrill. “We nearly had to cancel our wedding because you were so terrified to see him when he showed up unannounced.”

“He doesn’t scare me,” T.K. insisted. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him, and I don’t want to handle him if I don’t have to.”

“He wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about me.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“It’s my thing to worry. You know that.”

“Let’s talk about how you are,” T.K. diverted the conversation. “How was work? I hope it wasn’t too bad.” Carlos had had a hard week the week before. A child in one family he worked with had died tragically, and it had been no one’s fault, but it had left Carlos feeling guilty that he hadn’t done more.

“It was okay,” Carlos replied with a sigh. “Better than last week.”

“That’s good.” T.K. pressed his lips against Carlos’ neck. He caught a whiff of Carlos’ cologne, and it reminded him of a smell he used to know, but he hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. He just knew it made him feel calm.

“As much as I love having you kiss me. I’m trying to make dinner,” Carlos said with a laugh, swatting T.K. away with a dish towel.

“Fine. Have it your way,” T.K. pulled away slowly, already missing the closeness. “That’s the last time I try to make you feel better after a hard day.”

“Being with you always makes me feel better,” Carlos replied in a tone that was so earnest that T.K. could hardly believe that Carlos was his husband. “I’m feeling less stressed already.”

“You should have asked me to go to the store. It’s not like I had anything to do.”

Carlos shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but you’re so busy, and I’m just sitting around being useless.”

“You’re not useless.” They’d had a fight about this several times since the explosion. You do nothing to help this household. It makes no sense that Carlos has been so patient and sticks around.

“You have to say that. You married me, but what do I do? I’m not making any money. I can’t cook. I can barely even leave the house. The only thing I do is my job.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit, T.K. You’ll be back in action soon. You’re recovering. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Work will probably be bad too. Did you hear that they’re bringing in some guy from New York to run the new 126? That’s what Judd told me.”

“Oh? How’s Judd doing.”

“Pissed that they’re bringing some stranger in to be our captain.”

“Are you pissed?”

“Obviously. It’s a slap in the face. That’s what it is. That man is going to ruin everything. He doesn’t get how it is here in Texas. Austin is progressive, but we’re still in Texas. I give it three weeks before he realizes that he’s not cut out to work here.” T.K. hadn’t been born in Texas, but it is the only home he could remember, and he didn’t like the idea of an outsider coming in and flipping everything on its head. They’d had enough changes.

Carlos shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be nice.”

T.K. shot him an “Are you serious?” look. “He’s probably going to think he’s the best thing since sliced bread, and I don’t want to work for a guy who has attitude.”

“You have attitude,” Carlos replied with a laugh, bumping T.K. playfully with his hip. He poured the macaroni and cheese mix into a casserole dish before adding bread crumbs and putting it all in the oven.

T.K. crossed his arms, looking petulant. “Well, I’m not in charge, am I? My attitude won’t get anyone killed. That job should go to Judd. He’s an actual leader. Not some city guy who got his position by charming the pants off his superiors. Like, come on, New York? Why would a New Yorker want to come here? Judd knows what it’s like here.” T.K. didn’t see any reasons why Judd shouldn’t get the promotion that he was next in line for.

“Do you think Judd would even want it? Grace tells me he’s been having a tough time with everything. Being captain is a lot of pressure.”

“Our team died. Of course, he’s having a hard time, but he’s fine now. He told me so. He’s ready to get back to work, and I’m going to be right beside him. I’m just glad we’ll have each other.”

“He’s struggling more than he lets on. Grace doesn’t think he’s ready to go back”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Grace said that?”

“He won’t do his required therapy.”

“They won’t let him back until he does. It sucks, but all you have to do is tell ‘em what they want to hear and then you’re done.”

“That better not be the attitude you use when you go to therapy.”

Carlos was careful with what he said next. “Do you think you’re ready to go back?”

T.K. felt a sudden rush of guilt. “Babe, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Carlos looked nervous.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” T.K. confessed.

“What the hell, T.K.?” Carlos asked. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” T.K. had been trying to tell Carlos for a week, but he knew Carlos would think that it was too soon, so he’d delayed it until he could delay it no more. He’d never meant for it to become such a big secret, but like any secret, it had a life of its own.

“It was short notice, but I’ve been doing my therapy, so the captain agreed we could try to see what happens.”

“You nearly died twice.”

“The overdose was a lapse in judgement and the explosion was a freak accident. Neither will happen again.” You know it’s only a matter of time before you fall off the wagon. I wouldn’t do that to Carlos. You can’t help yourself.

“Judd won’t be your boss. The new guy is, so you’ll have to listen to him. Are you ready for that?”

“He saved my life, so I’m going to be loyal to him above all others, and the new captain better learn to deal with that.” Judd had shielded T.K. with his own body, protecting him from the worst of the explosion. T.K. owed Judd his life, and he was going to be bitter on his friend’s behalf about this new guy rolling in and stealing what was rightfully Judd’s.

“If you need more time off, we can make it work. You don’t have to go back right now.”

“We can’t make it work. You don’t exactly get paid a lot, and I can’t just sit at home all day.”

“Whatever you need, we can make it work.”

“I need to get back to work, Carlos.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go back before you’re ready.” T.K. could hear the anxiety in Carlos’ voice, and he knew that Carlos had nightmares about T.K. dying in the explosion.

“I need to get back to living a real life, not just my sad, pathetic existence.”

“If you say you’re ready, I’ll support you.” Carlos swallowed. “But I won’t deny that I’m nervous about you going back.”

T.K. took Carlos’ hand, pulling Carlos closer. “I’m ready. I promise. I was born to do this, and I won’t let shit that’s happened in the past stand in my way. I feel purposeless, and I need to get that purpose back.”

“Will you keep going to therapy?”

“If that makes you feel better.”

“I want it to make you feel better.”

T.K. leaned up to kiss Carlos. “That’s why I married you. You always want me to be better. You make me better”

“I thought it was because I could cook?”

T.K. kissed him again. “That was just a perk.”

“Are you nervous?” Carlos asked.

“You know me. I jump into things and don’t look back.” T.K. shook his head. “No, I’m not nervous.”

Walking into the firehouse the next morning felt strange after months away. T.K. hadn’t been there since the memorial service for the lost members. T.K. felt like Dorothy walking into Oz as he stared at the firehouse’s facelift, but instead of awe, dread was the only emotion that T.K. could make out.

The fire station felt like a hotel that he was passing through more than a second home where he’d be spending huge chunks of his time. He couldn’t deny that the arrangement was impressive, but the transformation only made him bitter. Lives couldn’t be covered up with a fresh coat of paint.

Before he could even get his bearings, the Owen Strand pulled him into his office, offering a hand and a too chipper grin. Reluctantly, T.K. shook his new captain’s hand. He hadn’t been raised with many manners, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He knew to play nice with his boss. “Owen Strand,” Owen introduced himself. “Please, have a seat.”

T.K. sat in a chair that looked too nice to be comfortable. He didn’t want to have whatever conversation Owen wanted to have. It wasn’t like T.K. has done anything yet. He hadn’t had the chance to let his impulses get him in trouble with this stupid New Yorker who was probably going to be the downfall of the entire station. Because based on the aesthetic of the firehouse, T.K. had to wonder if Owen was a leader who probably cared more about appearances and firehouse statistics more than he cared about the work itself.

They wouldn’t even start taking calls for another week because Owen thought it was important that they had team bonding and the kind of crap that T.K. thought was a waste of energy. They’d be doing training sessions, which were better than the getting to know each other games that were also on the agenda. Endurance exercises would keep his mind off everything else, but the trust exercises made him want to scream.

The captain was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and it was too early for a stare-off, so the way the captain was looking at him only made T.K. angrier because he’s too tired for games. T.K. hated men like that who looked at you like they could break you down by looking at you long enough. “Good morning, T.K.” Owen’s voice was bubbly, as if the firehouse wasn’t still haunted by all the people it has lost. T.K.’s was not sure that he’d ever be able to smile like that without guilt. It’s not like his life gave him a lot to smile about, anyway.

T.K. crossed his arms and uncrossed them because he didn’t want to look like a petulant kid. “What am I here for?” T.K. asked, not wanting to extend any pleasantries. He wasn’t there to make nice. He was there to do his job, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. I’ll show him I’m okay, but I don’t have to pretend I like him. He didn’t want to make friends or talk to his boss about things that didn’t matter. Owen Strand wanted to be Mr. Popular, and T.K. would not let him have that title easily. T.K. couldn’t be bribed with gourmet coffee makers and a variety of milks.

Owen has the gall to crack another smile. T.K. doesn’t return one. He can’t. He won’t. “I thought I should inform you that Judd won’t be coming back yet.” He hadn’t talked to Judd, but he’d figured that part out based on the conversation he’d had with Carlos the night before.

“Yeah, I know.” T.K. kept his voice stoic. “And I probably would’ve noticed that when I didn’t see him here.”

“I thought you should know that my decision not to bring Judd back right now doesn’t mean he’ll never be back.”

“Great, thanks for letting me know. Can I go now?”

“But that’s not why I called you in here. It’s not the only reason, at least.”

“Then what is? I’m not in the mood for small talk.”

“I want Judd to take care of his mental health. That was the major reason I would not let him back. He wasn’t taking his trauma seriously.” T.K. wanted to tell Owen off.

“It’s hard not to take trauma seriously. It’s always serious. That’s what makes it trauma.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. All I mean is that he needs more time to get his head back to where it needs to be.”

“You think I’m better than he is?” T.K. wasn’t sure he was much better than Judd. Maybe he was better at hiding the haunted look in his eyes. He’d been doing it his whole life. I know how to seem okay. It’s one of my greatest talents.

“You’ve been doing what the department requires, and that’s why I let you come back.” Owen kept his tone cool. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, T.K.”

“Yeah? And?” He still doesn’t know why Owen is wasting his time with this. “I still don’t get why you called me in here.”

“Being here doesn’t mean that I’m going to ignore well-being. I need you to take your mental health seriously too. You’ve done your required therapy, but I need you to keep taking care of that. If you have issues, you need to be upfront about them or else this won’t work. I need to know that I can trust you.” What about me trusting you? How am I supposed to do that?

T.K. rolled his eyes. “What my personal life is like isn’t your business. Everyone’s got baggage, and it’s not your business how I deal with it.”

“It is if it impedes what we’re doing here. I believe we all need to be on the same page. Are you willing to be a team player?”

“I would never let my issues get in the way with my job.”

“I know you wouldn’t intentionally, but—"

“But nothing. I’m fine, and this isn’t something I want to talk about with someone I’ve just met. What happened was awful, but I’m ready to move on because it doesn’t help anyone to live in the past.”

“T.K., you’re young and you’re resilient, but trauma is still trauma. I’ve been through it myself. I know what it’s like to lose your whole crew.” He pauses, looking choked up. “I know what it’s like to lose everything important to you.”

“Then, you know that sometimes you don’t want to be coddled. You just want to move on.”

“I also know that sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. I don’t want you to be stuck.”

“I’m nothing like you,” T.K. spat. “And the problems that you think I have are just you problems.”

Owen didn’t let T.K.’s comment rile him up. “Maybe you’re right, but I’m here if you need to talk. I’m here for anyone on my team.”

“I won’t, and if I do, it won’t be to you because I don’t trust you. You just rolled into Austin like you owned the place. It doesn’t make sense that you’d want to come to Austin, of all places. This would be a downgrade to a New Yorker, so unless you were on the verge of being fired, I can’t see why you’d take this job other than having a hero complex.” T.K. absolutely shouldn’t talk to his new boss that way, but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I appreciate your honesty, so I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not here because I want to be a hero. I’m here because I needed a fresh start. New York has a lot of hard memories for me. I was holding onto a lot of things that I needed to let go of, so when the opportunity arose, I made the most drastic change that I’ve ever faced. This new station can be a fresh start for you too. And Judd.”

T.K. remained testy. “I didn’t ask for your sob story.” He was being an asshole because that how he gets whenever he has any negative feelings. Like father like son, I guess.

Owen gave T.K. a sympathetic smile. “Trust me. I didn’t give it,” and T.K. knew that there was something to unpack there, but someone else’s trauma wasn’t something he has any business digging into. Besides, he really didn’t care to know anything more about Owen Strand than he already did.

By the end of the shift, all T.K. could think about was how big of an asshole Owen Strand was. Owen was the type of guy who everyone thought was so amazing. He grinned, and he cracked jokes with the crew. He wasn’t afraid to dive into a dangerous situation, and he had all the makings of a ruggedly handsome fifty-something hero. For all the things that outwardly seemed cool about Owen Strand, he was grandiose, and T.K. recognized the carefully practiced smile of someone who had a dark history that hadn’t yet found its way to a light present.

Trying not to think of his captain, T.K. got in his car, and he could hardly believe how much he wanted to go home after being so insistent about needing to get out of the house. He went ten miles per hour over the speed limit and rushed in through the door with fresh rage he could never seem to shake. Carlos looked up as he threw his keys onto their hook and missed the hook, letting the keys hit the floor. He groaned and didn’t pick them up.

“Hey,” Carlos said, voice cautious. “How was today?” T.K. didn’t want to talk about it, but he also had no ability to keep his mouth shut.

T.K. throws his hands up, gesticulating wildly. “He wants to change the entire station with his espresso machine and new age crap like that would make things any better. He thinks Judd isn’t ready to come back. How crazy is that? Judd lives to be a firefighter.”

“What about you?” Carlos asked.

“What about me?” T.K. blared. He clenched his fists, already losing it when the conversation has barely started.

“Does he think you’re ready to come back?”

“He looked skeptical, but he didn’t say I wasn’t. He let me stay for the shift, but all we did was fucking bonding exercises. But it helped that I’d actually gone to my therapy. I didn’t tell him that my social worker boyfriend pushed me into it.” T.K. crossed his arms. “What does he know anyway? This guy thinks that he’s an expert on mental health. Like, you can’t tell just by looking at a person how well they are is doing. He told me that he still had concerns about me, but with Judd, he just flat out said that he wasn’t ready. How unfair is that? Judd’s been there since he got out of high school. It’s not like he’s forgotten how to fight fires. Most of the time we’re just doing medical calls and crowd control.”

“Maybe he’s right.” T.K. looked at Carlos like he was a traitor.

“Whose side are you on?” T.K. felt like a raw nerve. He’d felt like one since he was a child, and now, he kept blowing up at the people he loved the most, and ever since the explosion, he’d been worse. He dreaded opening his mouth because he didn’t know when something red hot would spew out before he could stop it.

“Yours. I’m always on yours, but what you went through was traumatic, and—”

“And nothing! You don’t get to define my trauma by telling me how I should feel or that I’m not ready to go back to work. I’m ready! I’m tired of sitting at home like an invalid. You don’t get how crazy I’ve been going here.” The comfort of being home was short-lived, apparently.

“I know that it’s been hard.”

“It’s been the worst time of my life, and you know what my childhood was like.”

“Maybe the captain won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Maybe he’ll be worse. What does a city slicker know about running a fire department in Texas? He’s going to ruin everything we built. The station looks like it’s from an architecture catalog, but that won’t do much when he lets the station go to hell with poor management.”

“One man can’t destroy the whole firehouse all on his own.”

“He’s hired outsiders. He searched across the country. What’s the matter with people we have here?”

“You don’t like your coworkers.”

“They’re fine, but that’s not the point. They don’t get what it’s like here either. These people don’t feel like family.”

“It takes time to get to know people. Isn’t it better that he’s looking for completely fresh faces instead of trying to replace the old ones?”

“No. Owen Strand has only just started, and he’s already making a mess of things.”

“He’ll adapt, and he’ll have you to help him.” At least T.K. still had a job to show up to. Judd’s prospects were a lot less settled. Owen Strand didn’t seem to change his mind easily.

“I have a policy about not doing favors for bastards.” T.K. said, plopping his body on the couch next to Carlos.

“You wouldn’t be doing a favor for a bastard. You’d be doing a favor for the people of this city. Even if this new guy doesn’t need it, they need your help.” T.K. wasn’t going to let people down no matter how awful he felt about the whole situation. He was the best person for the job, which was why he was going to have to play nice and vent his frustrations when he came home from work at night.

“I know, but it’s still going to suck. I’m too hot-blooded for this. God, I’m just like my dad.” Carlos pulls T.K.’s body away from his so that they can look at each other eye to eye.

“You’re nothing like him. You can get passionate, but you don’t hurt innocent people when you get mad, and you care about people other than yourself. I wouldn’t have married you if you were like him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure my mom didn’t intend on getting stuck with an abusive deadbeat either. It’s no wonder she... left me.” T.K. wondered how much he was like his mother. If he married to a man like Sam Avery, he figured he would have given up on life as well.

Carlos kissed T.K.’s temple. “You’re the best husband. I’m lucky to have you.”

T.K. leaned his head against Carlos’ chest. “I’m even luckier to have you. You put up with my craziness.”

Carlos smiled. “For now, and forever.”

“Life’s never going to be the same, is it?” T.K. couldn’t help but ask.

Carlos holds T.K. closer. “No, I don’t think that it is, but it could be good in its own way.”

“We’ll see about that, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything’s going to go up in flame.” In T.K.’s experience, never good lasted when the bad was so insistent on taking the joy.

One Monday later, Judd was finally allowed back after Grace had convinced the captain to let Judd came back, meaning that T.K. would have at least one ally at work. That knowledge did little to sweeten T.K.’s sour mood. T.K. had just had the weekend off, so going back to work for another week with Captain Thinks He’s Cool But Is Actually an Asshole was not T.K.’s idea of a good time.

Usually, he liked his job. He enjoyed helping people, and every time he saved someone else, T.K. felt like he was rescuing himself from parts of himself that he didn’t like to consider—his impulsiveness, his addictiveness, his restlessness. But with all the changes, T.K. felt little when he worked. There was a hollowness in his core that T.K. couldn’t fill as effortlessly as he once could. Work didn’t make him feel in control anymore. It made him worry that he was seconds away from a spiral because firefighting was once solid ground, but it had become a collapsed building, full of accidents waiting to happen.

The day was off to a bad start. A house fire left T.K. in a bad mood, but he didn’t think about that. Reminding himself of the details would only cause his brain to spiral, and he had a shift to finish. You need to stop being so crazy and get your act together. If you don’t get it together, you’re going to make a fatal mistake. T.K. wasn’t sure his job would ever be the same. What if I can never do my job normally again. What if I’m broken?

I should be dead, was the mantra repeating in his mind. It had been there for longer than he would have admitted. There was no reason why he had lived while his family had died in that catastrophic explosion. Every single person in that crew had been better than T.K. a million times over. T.K. was lucky to have known them all, and their acceptance of him had proven that life is happier when the best part of it was the people who surround you. They brought out the best in him, and then, they were gone. Now, T.K. was left with Carlos, Judd, and a mountain of issues that he had to battle. He couldn’t talk about those issues, though. Not if he wanted to keep himself marginally levelheaded.

“You’re spacey today,” T.K. heard, and he felt himself jolt at the interruption. Paul was right next to him with that look on his face. The one that T.K. was being analyzed in ways that made him want to dig a hole and hide for a few months until things had steadied and he didn’t feel dizzy all the time. T.K. tried to keep his distance from Paul because it was hard to hide from someone who was hyper-observant. T.K. knew a thing or two about hiding. He’d hidden his sexuality, he’d hidden all the shit that happened with his father, and he’d hidden how untethered he always was, even before the accident. He took comfort in all the things he never showed anyone. Even Carlos only knew a sanitized version of what went on in T.K.’s head, and life was less chaotic that way. It kept things compartmentalized.

“I’m just here to do my job.” But he wasn’t even good at that anymore. All the calls that could have gone wrong did, but blocked those thoughts from his mind. He’d been on the verge of a mental breakdown for a while, and he tiptoed the edge between being okay and not being okay carefully. As long as he could act okay externally, he could deal with the messy internal thoughts. No one could know that he was struggling. If they did, they’d think it was too early for him to be back at work, and that wasn’t the case at all. Work wasn’t the problem. It was everything else in his life that was falling apart. Work was the glue that was keeping him together. But it’s getting harder to pretend I’m okay. I’m tired, too tired for the façade.

T.K. wasn’t sure why Paul had come to bother him at all. Maybe he’d drawn the short straw. The new team should’ve known better than to approach T.K. when he was in a mood. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to be social with anyone at the 126 other than Judd. T.K. wasn’t planning on making friends, and he certainly didn’t want any concern from people he saw as nothing more than interlopers.

“I’m here to talk if you need it, man.” The consideration almost made T.K. soften. Because I’m weak. Damn Paul for being a good guy. T.K. had to remind himself not to let his guard down just because someone was nice to him. Maybe several years ago, he would have been pathetic enough to try to be friends with anyone who paid attention to him, but he was past being desperate for love. Love always seemed to turn up tragic, anyway, so he’d clutch onto the love he already had without making any more. Whoever said the more, the merrier didn’t know the joy of being alone.

“I have a husband for talking to,” And I haven’t felt like talking to him either. Or my therapist.

Paul’s face remained neutral. “A husband, huh? I think that’s the first personal thing you’ve said. What’s his name?”

T.K. resisted rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help the clipped tone that came out, “Don’t get used to information. His name is Carlos. That’s all you’re going to get.” I’m such an asshole. He hated how he couldn’t seem to stop himself from being a jerk. He’d been an asshole to Carlos when they first met as well. He’d said, “Go look somewhere else if you’re looking to use your hero complex,” when Carlos had bandaged T.K. after T.K. fought with his dad. T.K. still wasn’t sure how Carlos had gotten past that moment, that broken and pathetic moment.

Paul shrugged, saying, “Okay. That’s fine. I’m not trying to push anything,” and the response made T.K.’s blood boil with something he couldn’t identify—anger, anxiety, maybe fear. He expected more of a reaction when he was an asshole, and it made butterflies flutter in his stomach when people’s reactions were different than he anticipated. No, it was more like bulls stampeding in his stomach, running with heaviness and power. “But that was a bad call with the little girl, so if you need to talk to someone who gets it, any of us are willing. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me off for being an asshole.” Childish defiance was brewing in T.K., and the more he wanted to make Paul’s expression change. “You obviously aren’t as observant as you claim to be because you haven’t noticed that I don’t plan to play nice with any of you. You’re only here because good men died. You’ve got awfully big shoes to fill, and you’re never going to fill them.”

Paul’s voice still didn’t raise. He pointed to his boots, “Luckily, I came with my own shoes, and I’ve filled them for a long time.” He stood from the bench and gave T.K. a pitiful look. “I get that you lost a lot, and no one is going to replace your old crew, but like it or not, you’ve gained a motley crew of people who don’t want the world to hurt other people like it hurt us. You don’t have to talk to us. You don’t even have to like us, but we’re here, so you might as well make the best of us.”

The anger dissipated from T.K.’s body. “I think I just need a few moments alone.”

Paul gave a small smile, “Take as many or as few as you need,” and with a nod, he was gone.

For all he wanted it to, the day didn’t end there. T.K. just wanted to go home, bury himself under his covers, and sleep, but he had thirteen hours left on his shift, and he’d have to suck up his bad feelings and try to get through.

Just two hours later, Marjan was the second member of the crew to corner T.K. When he saw her come up to him with an expression that screamed, “We’re having a serious talk,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed a groan. He liked Marjan. She was a badass with a quick wit and a heart of gold. What wasn’t to like? But while she didn’t have Paul’s extreme observational skills, she had a way of cajoling information out of people that almost made talking to her more dangerous.

“We’re going out to a honkytonk tomorrow night. You should come.”

T.K. brushed her off, “I’m kind of busy.”

“You’re busy a lot.”

T.K. tried to make a joke, “I get booked up months in advance.”

“Well, maybe you could squeeze us in some time.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” T.K. said, but he wasn’t going to make any promises. The exchange was short, and for the most part painless.”

It wasn’t even one hour later when T.K. was bombarded yet again. He looked at Mateo with an exasperated expression, “What is this? A let’s talk to T.K. revolving door?”

Mateo looked confused, “What?”

“Never mind,” T.K. shook his head.

Mateo was the member of the 126 who people too often underestimated. They looked at him and assumed that he was stupid or naïve and wouldn’t know anything. He was quiet, and there was a lot that he didn’t understand, but his ignorance had nothing to do with his intelligence or will. He just didn’t have the experience level that the rest of the crew had, but he was good with the details. He left nothing to chance, and he was the least likely of all them to cut corners. He was thorough with his relationships too, and he was so naturally caring that it was hard to turn him away and not give him something. His trustworthiness and his genuine concern made it hard for T.K.’s barriers not to melt just a little bit, but I have to be strong.

Mateo was brief with his speech, “We’re all just here to help each other out, and we need each other now more than ever.”

“I need my old crew more than ever,” T.K. said, meaning to sound stubborn, but it came off as desperate and too honest.

“We’re more than replacements. We can be friends.”

“You’ll be waiting a while if you want friendship.”

Mateo shrugged. “I’m good at waiting. Do you know how long it took me just to be a probie?” T.K. hadn’t paid attention enough to know the answer, but he did remember a lot of fretting about Mateo’s firefighter’s test a while back. “I don’t care about having to do so much grunt work, either. I’m just glad to be here.” The question is, Am I glad to be here too?

T.K. felt a rush of relief fill him when Mateo didn’t make him say anything more, but T.K.’s mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

The final few hours of his shift dragged. They ate dinner together, but T.K. wasn’t hungry. He pushed his food around as he thought of the little girl, and couldn’t shake the sickness in his stomach. He wanted to escape. He wanted a drug. He wanted a hug from Carlos. He couldn’t take it anymore. His mind was reeling with the defeat of the day. Excusing himself, he snuck to the bathroom just to escape being near other people.

He splashed water on his face, trying to wash the bad of the day from his face, but it didn’t budge. He heard a voice and spun around, feeling his heart beat faster. It was just Owen. T.K. felt the fear diminish but the residual panic was still in his body.

“Sorry about that,” Owen said. Turning the tap on and waving his toothbrush. “I need a quick refresh.”

“It’s fine,” T.K. replied half-heartedly, not wanting to look as distraught as he felt while also not wanting to invite a conversation. T.K. dried his face off and tried to make himself presentable before he’d have to go back and face the rest of his shift.

Before he could slip away, Owen stopped him. “T.K., hold on,” Owen said as he spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

Owen Strand was the member of the 126 that T.K. knew better than he wanted to know him. He talked a lot, and he pretty quickly revealed heaps of information, but T.K. knew that for as open as he appeared to be, he had secrets that he was guarding. He was choosy about what he revealed, but because he revealed a significant amount of stuff that didn’t really matter, he seemed open. T.K. recognized that in him because T.K. was exactly the same way. He made people feel like he was giving information away to distract from the secrets he kept. Though, he hadn’t even been doing that lately. He didn’t have the energy to spin a narrative just to keep people off his trail. There was so much else he had to handle, and the new 126 didn’t seem worth the effort of either divulging information or actively hiding information.

Owen picked up a comb and started fixing his hair. Of course, Owen of all people would have a post-meal beauty routine. “It’s been a hard day. Self-care is most important on hard days.” He handed T.K. some lotion. “Try this. It has chamomile. It’s supposed to be soothing.”

“No thanks,” T.K. said.

“Suit yourself,” Owen said, putting the comb down and using the lotion for himself. “Our job certainly doesn’t promote good skincare.”

T.K. didn’t even know what to say to that. “I guess not. Can I go or did you want to say something?” “I wanted to check-in.”

For all he tried to be civil, T.K. couldn’t stifle his groan. “You don’t have to keep asking me how I am.”

“It’s not just you that I worry about. I check in with the others too. You’re just more elusive than them.”

“You can’t tell me I’m more elusive than Judd.”

Owen grinned. “Hard to believe, I know.”

T.K. eyed Owen as he picked up cologne and dabbed it on his wrists and onto his neck. “It’s the little things that get you through the day. I know it seems silly, but I like smelling like myself,” Owen explained. He was one of those people who liked to hear his own voice. “A good scent can remind you that there’s something beyond the smoke.”

T.K. knew the smell right away. “That’s Black Valley by Oscar Simmons, isn’t it?” Even assholes can have good taste in cologne.

Owen raised his eyebrows. “You know it?”

“My husband wears it.”

“He must be a dapper man.” Owen looked impressed. “It’s an old scent for someone so young to wear.”

“Carlos says it’s a classic. I think he likes it because his dad passed it down to him. He’s always thought his dad was super cool.”

A flash of something dark flickered through Owen’s eyes. “That’s nice. Tradition is important. I’ve been wearing this scent for nearly thirty years. It’s been through a lot with me.”

“It’s been around that long?”

“I still have trouble believing that I’ve been around that long,” Owen said with a chuckle.

“I’m getting pretty close to thirty-years myself.” He still had four years before then, but he was closer to thirty than twenty. He felt ancient. The past few months had felt like years.

“Enjoy the time before your body starts getting creaky.”

T.K. cracked his knuckles. “It’s already there.” He sighed. “But at least I get to grow older. That little girl—” he caught himself before he said more.

“It’s hard to see kids die,” Owen commented somberly. “How are you doing with that?”

T.K. forced a smile, the normal almost friendly moment dissipating as tenseness settled between them. “I’m doing okay.” Owen was the captain, so if there was anyone that T.K. had to fool, it was him.

“It’s been a long shift. A child died, and that’s always hard. No amount of experience makes that easier.”

“No, but I’m not cracking up over it.” He sighed. “It’s just hard.”

“I know, but you don’t have to shut down your emotions. I don’t want robots as employees, so I won’t penalize you for having them. It’s good to process those things.”

“We still have time on the clock, so I’ve got to keep my focus.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Owen insisted.

“I didn’t say it was,” T.K. bit out. But it is, isn’t it?

“There was nothing you could have done.”

“Yeah, I know that,” T.K.’s voice was firmer now, but he couldn’t help the way it wavered at the end. “But I saved the villain.”

“You did your job.” Owen opened his mouth to say something else, but the alarm lit up, and a siren wailed through the firehouse.

“We’ll have to talk later,” T.K. told the captain, hurrying out of the captain’s office to get ready. He had no intention of talking. It’s best that way. Talking never leads to anything good coming out of my mouth.

It was nearly time to go home, and there was only one person who hadn’t yet had a heart to heart with T.K. As the only member of the crew to have a genuine relationship with T.K., Judd’s concern meant the most, but they’d never been the type of friends to have emotional conversations. They were brothers and would do anything for one another—Judd’s family often hosted T.K. for holidays, which they’d split with Carlos’ family—but they didn’t need heart to hearts to be close.

T.K. thought he was going to escape without a conversation with Judd until he saw Judd waiting by T.K.’s car.

“You have to let them in eventually,” Judd told him. T.K. had to admit that Judd was a changed person since he had started to go to therapy. Maybe that’s why he seemed so into having real conversations now instead of just talking about sports and married life.

“I don’t have to do anything,” T.K. insisted, and he sounded so much like a little brother.

“Kid,” Judd always called him kid when he was going into big brother mode, “They want to know you, and crews always work better when they trust one another.”

“I’ve given them no reason not to trust me. Just because I don’t share—”

“T.K., you’re not trusting them.”

“I trust them to do the job.”

“You won’t even tell them your favorite color.”

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

Judd sighed. “I’m not asking you to tell them every little detail about yourself, but if you want this to work, you have to give ‘em something.”

“Judd, I have to go.” T.K. looked at his watch, “Carlos is waiting for me, and I don’t want to be here longer than I have to.”

“Talk to him about what happened today. With everything with your dad—”

“He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Are you sure about that? Carlos told me he was back in town.” Judd shook his head. “Which you should have told me.”

“I should have known Carlos wouldn’t keep that a secret.”

“He’s worried. I am too.”

“Please, Judd. I want to go home.”

“Fine.” Judd sighed. “Just don’t be a stranger. Dad misses you at family dinners.”

“I’m doing my best, Judd. You of all people know it’s a lot to deal with it all.”

“I know. I’m still strugglin’. trust me the nightmares keep on coming, but I’m taking little steps forward, and I’m learning not to let bad days get me down so much. Our new crew is a good bunch of people, so I don’t want your fears to get in the way of you adding some new people to your life.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Judd patted him on the shoulder, “Well, whatever you are ain’t making you happy,” and wasn’t that the truth. I’m not sure happiness is in the cards for me.

When T.K. finally got home, the last thing he wanted to do was talk more, so he slid into his house and went directly to bed without saying more than a few words to Carlos. He tried not to let thoughts about the dead little girl infiltrate his mind, but he had nightmares of her burning in the fire. When T.K. woke up, Carlos was already at work, and T.K. knew he’d have to endure the day alone. He didn’t mind moping on his own, but he knew it was a bad day to have excess time. If things were normal, he would have bothered one of the crew to hang out with him, but his crew was dead, and it wasn’t a good time to burden Judd. Grace would understand, but like Judd, she already had enough to deal with.

He could have always called Carlos, who would’ve dropped everything to talk to T.K., but Carlos had already missed enough work, and he deserved some time away from the chaos that T.K. had dragged him into.

With Carlos gone for most of the day, T.K. tried and let himself recover, by the third hour of watching a soap opera that he didn’t understand, T.K. was at the end of his rope.

When Carlos did come home, T.K. wasn’t in a talking mood, but silence didn’t pair well with dinner. He knew it would help, but he didn’t want another night of trauma talk. For once, he just wanted to pretend that they were a normal couple who worried about normal things like what they were having for dinner or whether to paint the living room tea leaf or sea glass. T.K. tried to find something to say, but he couldn’t think of anything normal, so he just stayed quiet and asked Carlos what he had done at work.

Carlos talked about his day, but after T.K. asked him about what he did during his day for the fourth time, Carlos had enough. “You have to talk about it eventually.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Conversations are always pulling teeth with you.”

“Could you stop? I’ve had a long day.” He wanted to eat their meal without the rattling in his brain. For a while, he wanted to ignore all that was wrong with his life.

“You were off today.” And agonized by all my free time.

“The days blur together, I guess,” which was true. With odd shift schedules, T.K. sometimes lost track of what day it was or when the old day had turned over to a new one.

“You haven’t been talking to me since you got back to work.”

“I talk to you every day, Carlos.” T.K. wouldn’t be able to stop talking to Carlos, even if he tried. He’d lose his mind after the third day of silence. For as closed off as he was, T.K. couldn’t stand silence with anyone for long, and he’d lose his head when he thought people were giving him the silent treatment. If no one was talking, T.K. usually babbled just to fill the space. He didn’t have to do that as much with Carlos, though, or anyone he trusted. T.K. knew that Carlos would never use the silence as a weapon.

“Not about how you’re doing.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. I’m back at work and feeling better than ever.”

“You don’t just go from wanting to kill yourself to being fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was just a normal ‘I’m a fuck up who accidentally overdosed on a shit ton of oxy that didn’t even make me feel better.’” You’re a liar.

Carlos didn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t really matter what exactly happened that night. Whatever happened, you weren’t okay, and all that matters now is that it happened, and you need to address it. I want to know that you’ve been dealing with whatever you’re feeling in the right ways because going backward isn’t a choice.”

“I’m dealing as well as I can be.” He wasn’t telling the truth. He could have committed to his therapeutic process. He could have admitted that he had wanted to die when he took those pills. He could have told Carlos that despite all his bravado that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be back at work and that he wasn’t even sure that firefighting was what he wanted anymore. He could have admitted that more than just work was getting to him. But he wasn’t going to do any of that because it was easier for everyone if he dealt with his shit alone.

“Keeping to yourself isn’t dealing. It’s ignoring the problem.”

“I’m trying to spare you the angst.”

“No, you’re trying to spare yourself from dealing with your problems.”

“Why does everyone want to talk? Why can’t any of you let things go back to normal? We pretended I was fine before. Can’t we do that again?”

“That’s kind of the problem. The normal you want to go back to doesn’t exist, and the sooner you realize that the more stable your life will become.”

“I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve been more on edge lately, and I’m not sure if it’s because you’re back at work or because I told you that your dad was back.”

“I don’t care about my dad,” T.K. refuted too quickly.

“Fine, then this is about something else.”

Carlos wasn’t going to drop this, and T.K. couldn’t help the anxiety that blossomed in his chest or the rage that it turned into. “Why are you always such a busy body? You can’t leave me to have peace for five goddamn seconds?” He regretted yelling immediately, but with all the shame he felt for yelling, he became angrier, and he needed to be louder, or else he’d be consumed by whatever happened next. He needed to keep fighting or he’d go down. “You’re supposed to support me, not try to leech information from me just to be entertained by the fucking drama in my life.” He sounded paranoid and insecure, but when he was in a mood, he always spoke to keep control of the situation and make sure his voice didn’t fade.

“I know what you’re doing.”

The anxiety was bubbling more, and he wasn’t sure what to do to stop it. He didn’t even know why it was there but yelling temporarily dulled it. “I’m yelling at you like an asshole, that’s what I’m doing, but you can’t drop your sincere, loving husband act for two seconds.”

“You want me to lash out, but I’m not going to take the bait.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just a fucking asshole, Carlos. It’s not that deep. You’re so naïve that you think there’s something redeemable in every person. How crazy is that? Grow up and see that some people are just wasted. They’re going to break your heart, and they’re not going to care that they’re doing it.”

“You always do this when you’re upset.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s not a master plan or a scheme! I’m just an asshole. That’s all. You should know by now that that’s all I am. You married me, and if you don’t know what I am by now, that’s pretty pathetic. You must’ve been desperate if you married me. Aaron must have really broken you. He—”

T.K. could see the heat burning in Carlos’ eyes, and he got a guilty surge of satisfaction of finally getting a hint of the response he wanted. “Shut up, T.K, and don’t give me that crap. Aaron devastated me, but I was fifteen and in the closet. He’s in the past, but you’re not. You know what you do? You try to control people’s reactions. You provoke them so they’ll get angry with you because you’ve learned that a predictable bad response is more secure than gambling on what you might get.”

T.K. rolled his eyes, “Keep your social worker talk out of this.” He wasn’t looking to be psychoanalyzed.

Carlos swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, you’re all about bringing up hard truths tonight, so I’m not holding back either. You’ve learned that being hit hurts a lot less when you’ve convinced yourself that you had it coming, so when you feel vulnerable, you try to make people mad so that they get angry when you see it coming.”

“Stop it,” T.K. warned.

Carlos didn’t stop, “If you make people angry, you don’t have to risk them feeling something you don’t know how to handle. You don’t have to worry that they’ll hurt you for no reason because when you get too close to someone, you always give them a reason to be angry.”

T.K. felt his eyes get glossy, but he’d learned long ago that crying made things worse, so he closed his eyes and willed the drops to retreat into his eyes. He felt Carlos’ weight settle beside him and felt a warm hand slip into his. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but you don’t get to dictate when I feel what. I want you to feel safe, but you’re never going to feel safe if you don’t learn to accept that you aren’t responsible for how other people feel, and you can’t control their emotions.”

“I can’t even control my own emotions. I feel like they’re always going crazy.” He couldn’t get a grip on what he was feeling. It had always been hard for him to process his emotions or even identify which one he was feeling at any given moment.

“That would be hard.”

“It was just an awful day.”

“I don’t know what happened, but you’re trying to punish yourself. There’s a part of you that thinks it’s what you deserve.” Because punishment stops the spinning in my head.

“Yeah, well, I really fucked up, Carlos.” Maybe he did deserve bad things. All of the bad things. I messed things up so badly, and I don’t there’s a way to make it okay.

“What happened?” Carlos’ voice was gentle but prodding.

“There was a little girl who died in a fire we were called to.”

“Did something happen to her?”

T.K. nodded. “Someone happened to her.”

“Arson?”

“No. Her dad had beat her and her mom up, and then, he set the house on fire to cover it up.” The amount of senseless violence T.K. saw never ceased to make him sick.

“Fuck, that’s bad.”

“Yeah, and it was all my fault what happened to her.”

“No, T.K. her death wasn’t your fault. I’m sure you did everything you could to save her. I know you.”

“She was dead when we got there.”

“What do you feel guilty over, then? You couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I know that there was nothing I could have done. I didn’t even know what had happened at the time, but I saved the wrong person.”

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ brows were furrowed as he struggled to understand what was bothering T.K. so much. Carlos’ face became animated with grim understanding. “You saved her dad.”

T.K. swallowed a lump in his throat. “I had to leave her body there while I carried her abuser out.” Logically, T.K. knew that he was doing his job, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left a living person behind out of spite, but he hated how unfair it was when the scum of the Earth could continue living while people who did nothing wrong didn’t get that same chance. He hated that he had no control over it. He was powerless to the whims of the universe. He was powerless to his future. He was powerless to old scars that still sometimes ached as if they’d just happened. I’ve always been so powerless. “The thing I really hate,” he confessed, “is that I would have saved my dad even if he had tried to do the same to me.”

“That shows that you’re the better man.”

T.K. wanted to sob, but he let out a choked, “I’m sorry, Carlos,” instead.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. T.K. had been an awful husband, and he couldn’t stand himself for it.

“It’s not. I’m an asshole.”

“No, he’s the asshole..”

“It’s an inherited trait,” T.K. concluded, feeling like the worst person alive. Carlos is too nice to see the truth. He doesn’t realize that he can do so much better. “And I don’t think I’ll ever escape it.”

#text #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #My writing #Elise Writes #My Fics #wip #7500 - 12500 words #saving the child inside

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the-author-dragon · 3 years

Text

The story after the song 'Church Bells'

The wedding between Jenny Hayward and Jason Morrel was beautiful. Granted, Jason had gotten his parents to plan the wedding. They were both twenty-two, young and in love, and it didn't hurt that Jenny was the prettiest girl there and that Jason was rich beyond belief, both from his oil business he had started that year and from a bit of his parent's money. Adrien Winsor, the pastor at the local church they both went to, officiated the wedding. He'd never seen two people happier than the two of them.

A year or two later, Adrien was invited to a party they'd thrown. She was wearing heavy makeup. Adrien asked her about it, as she wasn't known to wear anywhere near that much.

"I'm fine," she had said dismissively. "Just trying something new."

A year later, he saw his in the back pew of the chapel, hands folded, deep in prayer.

"Good morning, miss Morrel," He'd said.

"Good morning," She'd said hurriedly, wiping away tears and by accident, makeup. It only revealed a bit of a bruise over her eye, but it was enough.

"Who's hit you?" He asked a few times, to which she'd answered 'nobody,' but she finally answered "Jason."

He quietly joked that he'd look the other way if Jason happened to die. She didn't laugh.

A few weeks later, Jason died of an illness he'd had for weeks. Adrien avoided eye contact with Jenny at the funeral.

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

"Jason Morrel, died at age twenty-five, presumably from an unknown disease," The detective said stiffly to his colleagues as he slapped the case file on the table.

"What do you mean by 'presumably,' Brandon?" a young woman asked sharply. "Jason was buried a week ago! He was ill for several weeks and then died! Is this why you called us together?"

"Yes Jeanette," Brandon sighed. "Listen, something's not quite right. This kind of disease being fatal so quickly?"

"Who would have the motive and the means to kill him? He held everyone at a distance," Lisa pointed out.

"She's right," Andrew agreed.

Brandon pondered this for a few seconds. "His wife," he decided. "She could have killed him for his money."

"That doesn't make sense either," Andrew countered. "They were together for five years. People who knew them said they were the perfect couple. Jason only had a sloppy will written out, just saying that she would get his Nerf collection."

"The money would have gone to his next of kin!"

"Which were his parents," Mark added. "She isn't related to him, so his closest relatives were his parents."

"The money went to her anyway!" Brandon was visibly stressed and angry.

"Listen Brandon," Lisa said. "It's too unclear. If you can prove someone murdered him, then we'll take the case. Otherwise, don't bother everyone about it. And don't even try to bother the Chief with it." Lisa stood up, brushing off her nice suit and walking out, everyone else soon following."

"Dangit," Brandon muttered. He was sure something had happened. He just had to prove it.

First stop, Jason's old house. It was a beautiful mansion, with large iron gates at the front and beautiful iron fencing surrounding the property. He rang the doorbell. A woman's voice came over the intercom. "Hello? Who is this?"

"I'm Officer Harvey from the police station, I'd like to talk to Jenny Morrel."

"Oh, is it about the cat again? The neighbors are-"

"No, I'd like to talk about her late husband."

The voice was silent for a few seconds. "Come in."

The gates opened, and Brandon walked down the path to the front door. The garden was well-tended and had a fountain on either side of the path in the middle of the lawn. He made it to the door, where he knocked a few times. About thirty seconds later, the door opened. A beautiful woman with a tan that suggested she spent a lot of time outside opened the door. "Good morning, ma'am. I'd like to speak with Jenny."

"You're speaking with her, sir," the woman chuckled, her auburn curls shaking a little in the light breeze. "You must not recognize me from the funeral. I remember seeing you there." She had a thick southern accent, something that complimented her voice nicely.

"Oh! I apologize, I thought you were one of the servants."

"It's fine, dear. There aren't too many servants around here. A cook and a few maids are all we needed."

"How do you keep this garden so well maintained?" Brandon asked in amazement.

"I do it myself. I love gardening you see, I grew up doing it. Ever since Jason married me I have too much time on my hands."

"About Jason, may I come in?"

"Absolutely, just leave your shoes at the door. Miriam just swept. " She opened the door to let him in. Brandon walked in, slipping off his shoes and leaving them next to Jenny's tennis shoes. "Come with me, I have place we can talk."

Jenny led him to a quiet parlor on the other end of the house. "Here, the servants won't be coming this way for a while. Elijah just finished vacuuming and dusting about fifteen minutes ago. Do you want something to drink? If so, I'm afraid all we have other than water is milk and Jason's old alcohol stores."

"Was he an alcoholic?"

"Unfortunately. However, I got him to quit sometime before he died when he fell ill. It was tragic when he did, he missed so many parties he spent so much time planning." Jenny suddenly looked very sad. "I miss him so much, you know. He was such a nice man."

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"You know, when he was alive he called me his daisy. You should have seen the look on his face whenever he said that. It was the nicest thing, you know? He looked so gentle and he'd take my hands and kiss my forehead. It would practically cure all that ailed ya." Jenny had a gentle smile on her face.

"That sounds adorable," Brandon smiled.

"I always thought it was so weird how he'd gotten sick so quickly. Granted, he didn't go anywhere, so when he did he always caught something, whether it be a cold or pneumonia."

"About that, I suspect someone killed him."

"Killed him?" Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Well, that would explain why he got so sick after coming home from the bar. He was a big alcoholic, you know. I told him to stop before he got sick, so I supposed that was why."

"Do you have any idea who could have done it?"

"I mean, you could try the bartender who was working the night he got sick. Or anyone who was at the party that night." She examined her nails. "It was most of my late husband's family and a few of my friends. I can give you their names and addresses, but you'll have to figure out the bartender thing on your own. I'll give you the name of country club so you can go ask."

"Thank you, miss. It's a lot of help."

"Pleased to help." The woman smiled gently, standing up. "I'll write down the information for you and you go on your way, sugar." She grabbed a notepad and pen from the table and scrawled down the information and handed it to him, leading him to the front door. "Now shoo, I have some friends coming over."

Brandon spent weeks tracking everyone down and asking them about Jason, but found nothing, no matter how much he asked or who he asked. It was a dead end.

The police never did find Jason's killer. Nobody had the foggiest idea that he was killed, anyway, except for Brandon, who gave up at the knowledge he no longer had any leads. Nowadays, Jason's killer is running his oil business, donating to charities, and is probably the kindest woman you've ever met. She gives you a soft smile and serves you sweet tea with as much sugar as you'd like.

Nowadays, she's taken a second husband, who treats her like the queen she is, and the two of them host the best parties. She never really needs to wear makeup, but sometimes she does. Every now and then, someone asks what happened to her first husband and she blinks away false tears and quietly tells them that he died of an illness and launch into a short mantra about how sickly he was. It's quite believable, actually.

Nowadays, nobody suspects anything.

#creative writing #music #this song is great tbh #writing #short story

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sabraeal · 6 years

Note

#51 sounds really cute! :D

#51: things you said as we danced in our socks

Set a few weeks before graduation

Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Horns rattle from the tinny speaker, and thebriefest bass guitar, before abruptly cutting off. Shirayuki frowns as shescoops up her phone, flicking the screen on – that clip is so unsatisfying, she reallyneeds to fix it –

r u done?im doneim dooooooonnnnne

She glances up from the mixer whirring away, catching the bookbagslumped against the wall of the vestibule, abandoned the moment she walkedthrough the door.

I just got backObi still has one more though

ugh ofctell him hes an overachiever and he should b ashamed

(He’s been sitting like that for almost fifteen minute,pointer hovering over Add Class, hisdesignated selection time bleeding out, only fifteen more before the juniorsgets to start picking their classes too –

“I shouldn’t bother,” he says, toneless. “You have to applyfor it.”

She tucks into his side, laying her head on his shoulder. “Sodoes everyone else. You have just as good a chance as anyone.”

“You’re not doing it.”

She blinks, tilting her head up. “I’m not the one interestedin informatics.”

“It’ll be over my credit load,” he tries instead. “I’d need permissionfrom the dean –”

She tweaks his elbow, just hard enough to make him squirm. “Good thinghe’ll be your graduate advisor.”

It takes a bit for him to blush – or at least for her to see it – but there’s pink just under bronze on his ears, and that’s enough. “That’s not – that’sonly if Admissions all goes temporarily batshit and lets me in.”

His chest shakes, breath coming quick, and she slides her hand down,covering his. “You should do it,” she says, studiedly casual. “What’s the worstthat can happen? They say no?”

His breath steadies, but not easily. “Right. Yeah.”

The click is less than a second. “Fuck ‘em, right?”)

i don’t think i’ll tell him that

FINELAMEsuzus been done since yesterday bcuz hes a slackerwhen obi is done we should celebratelike unreal amts of booze celebrate

It’s – it’s not that her heart pounds, it’s just – quiet,now that the mixer is off. Everything is more – noticeable. Now that she – she’s –

She’s thinking about the last time they got drunk at Yuzuri’sbehest, looming over them as she poured more and more shots, tellingthem it’s a celebration, everyone has todrink –

– I don’t think you’dbe so hard to figure out, darlin’. Obi’s drawl is liquid in her memory,pouring over her like honey. Just have toknow where to touch –

uh sureI guess?

u guess?is there some sort of problem?

She thinks of Obi, chest heaving,slack-jawed, eyes wide – if I capsize inyour thighs, high tide – of what he’dlook like with swollen lips, panting down her body, spreading her legs –

Ugh. She shakes her head. Thewhole thing is just – just – a pop-up she can’t shake, an ad that keepsplaying over her day at odd intervals, only instead of it being for somethinglike experimental allergy medication or Cialis, it’s for Obi, like she suddenly needs to be reminded every few minutes thathe’s attractive and also experienced, like maybe she should consider –

no!everything is fine!

It will pass. It always does.

…whatever the ideas r percolating ill let u know what we decide but like def booze

This isn’t – it isn’t a problem. Everything is fine – very fine, the most fine.

All her papers are written, revised, and already sitting in drop-boxes, her only final is a multiple choice test about European History, most of which she learned just from living with Kiki for a year. If anything, she is set, living her best life –

“God.”

Her whole body flushes, toe-tip to hairline, and she’s so busy trying not to think of skin under her lips, of hearing that in an entirely new context, that she nearly misses the slam of the door.

Obi tilts a long-suffering look toward her as he leans against the wall, toeing his shoes into the tray. “I’m glad that’s fucking done.”

There isn’t a problem, because whatever this is, it’s just a phase. Something that will definitely pass.

It just never takes this long.

“Did your test go well?” she asks, clearing her throat, like it might expel the images her mind is supplying as he saunters around the corner, shirt already pulling up taut torso, sun-bronzed abs on display.

“Hope so,” he sighs, balling his T-shirt up in his hand. “Otherwise Lata’s going to give me a few more of these for putting off our action plan.”

It takes her a whole minute to realize what he’s pointing at, to see the thick silver sprawl of scars across his back and not the way his muscles ripple beneath the skin, the way his shoulder blades make his whole back look like an anatomy model.

She frowns. “Professor Forenzo would never –”

“I know, I know,” he says, waving a hand at her as he crosses into his room. “Gimme a minute, I gotta get out of these clothes. It’s killer out there.”

“Right,” she replies, faint, definitely not noticing the way his hands settle on his waistband, definitely not thinking about his skin shining with sweat –

She doesn’t have a problem, it’s just – just that she hasn’t figured out a way to get him back, to close out this prank so she can – can stop thinking about that stupid song, and capsizing on thighs and what it might feel like if he –

plans decidedwe gonna go C L U B B I N G

Shirayuki’s teeth grit down, her hands bracing against the counter. This is fine. They’ve gone before, a nice little place above a bar in downtown Wilant; it’d been all 80s songs and they’d all had a little more than they’d bargain for, and Obi –

– you’re a squeezing hips, neck-kissing girl, aren’t you, darlin’? –

Ah, maybe she…shouldn’t think about that. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

“You all right, Doc?”

She jolts, watching Obi settle on the couch, bare feet kicked up on the coffee table, arms sprawled out over the back, remote in hand. Her hands tighten on the counter, trying to ground herself, trying not to have her knees go weak as she traces the delicate bones in his feet, the strain of his t-shirt over his biceps –

if obi gives u shit tell him its obligatorythis is the price of fucking friendship okay

“You might not want to get too c-comfortable,” she stammers, stacking cookies, trying to look like she’s doing something in the kitchen, and not just – ogling him. “Yuzuri says we need to go out and celebrate.”

His head turns toward her, just slightly. “Celebrate what?”

“Being done with, you know…school.” It sounds weak, even to her own ears, and the grunt that comes from him tells her he agrees.

“We’re all going to grad school,” he huffs out. “We’re not going to be done with school for the next decade, if Lata has anything to say about it.”

“Well, it’s the end of undergrad,” she presses, feeling flushed. “And the end of our thesis work –”

“And just what is this version of celebrating going to entail?” he asks with a sigh. “I already have my sweat pants on.”

I’ve noticed is not the right thing to say. Neither is dumbly standing there, thinking how good he makes them look. “Yuzuri says we’re going clubbing.”

“Oh, no,” he says, firm. “No. I don’t dance.”

“She wants me to tell you it’s a non-optional social convention.”

“Is that how she’s getting Suzu to go?”

“Probably.” Her shoulders twitch in a shrug. “You know how she feels about this sort of thing.”

His eyebrows lift. “That there’s no better way to celebrated scientific achievement than to get trashed and grind on strangers?”

“Yes.” Not quit how she would have put it. “That.”

His look turns incredulous. “And you went for that?”

“It’s what she wants to do,” Shirayuki insists, because – because it’s not like she cares. It’s not like she’s thinking about the way he was dancing with anyone who showed interest the last time, wondering if he might –“She’s been here longer. Maybe this is the best way to celebrate. When in Rome, you know?”

“That is the exactopposite of an attitude you should have in Florida. Never do what people inFlorida do.” He rolls his head along the back of the couch to give her a flatlook. “It’s like you’ve never seenthe internet.”

She returns itwith a look of equal flatness. “We made it so the Olin maris can be bred in captivity. We’ve saved an entire species.We can spend one night doing what Yuzuri wants to do.”

“Yuzuri wants toget sloppy drunk and see if she can get Suzu to breed in captivity.”

“And we should support that.” She sighs at his incredulous look, padding out to put the plate of cookies in front of him. “Besides, I’ve seen you dance. You seemed – fine.”

That is definitely a word. That she can use. Safely.

“We danced at a gala,” he protests, “I wore a suit. Youstepped on my feet. That is not this. This is – swampy club dancing. It’s acircle of hell, not an activity.”

She refrains from mentioning the other time; she doesn’t think he’d appreciate remembering just how good he dances drunk to Come On Eileen, no matter how impressive it was.

“I think you just need to get excited.” She’s too used to his stare to shrivel under it. “You know, uh – get pumped.”

“Are you evenplanning on drinking?”

She grimaces.“No.”

“That is such awaste, you can’t even drive.”

She frowns. “Ihave my license now.”

He gives her apointed look. “You can’t even drive.”

She stares at himfor what must be a full minute before it hits her, grin breaking out across her face. “I have just thething to get you in the mood.”

“Aw, c’mon,” hemoans as she pulls him upright. “I’ve got so many Cutthroat Kitchens to watch. On this one, theycook spaghetti and meatballs and someone takes some lady’s garlic.”

“Look, you alreadyknow what happens!” She grins at him. “So now you can do my thing instead.”

He grimaces when she pulls out her phone, when he sees her bring up her music library, pleading, “No, don’t –”

“Why do you build me up –”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he mumbles over the tinny piano. “Do you know what kind of music they play in clubs?”

“–Buttercup, baby–”

“This is to pump you up!” she tells him, trying to guide him into a bobbing two-step, one he follows with the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. “Get your blood flowing!”

“Oh my god,” he sighs. “Of course. This is your pump up music. Motown.”

“It’s uplifting.”

“You listen to Angel of the Morning when you get up, don’t you?”

Her mouth pulls thin. “That’s not Motown –”

“That’s not a no.”

“See,” she tries instead, “you’re getting more lively already!”

There’s a flash of teeth behind his lips, but he hides it in his shoulder. “Whatever, the song is ending. How about you put on an actual club song?”

Her finger hovers over her screen.

“This decade.”

“Fine,” she sighs, scrolling past her collection of 80s music. “I can do that.”

“Uh-huh, I’m–”

“Shawty had those Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur –”

He stares. “All right, I’m concerned you don’t know what year it is.”

“They still play this!” she insists, starting to bop to the beat. “It’s on plenty of club mixes.”

“All right,” he sighs, taking her hands. “This is physically painful, Doc. No one dances like that at a club.”

“Plenty of people do,” she insists, leaving out that most of her club experience is seeing them on CSI reruns. She’s got a feeling he already knows.

“Come here,” he guides her closer, until their hips are almost touching. “Let me just – show you. End the embarrassment.”

“I’m not –” Embarrassing gets swallowed along with her tongue, because his hand hooks over her hips, her own right beneath, guiding her into a slower swing that barely involves feet moving at all. He’s not – not touching her anywhere else, but he’s so close he might as well be, and she’s just – aware. Of all of him.

He smells nice.

“Oh is this – grinding?” she squeaks. “I’ve heard about that before –”

“No.” His voice is entirely too deep. “This would be grinding.”

His hands tug on her, yanking her forward until his knee is between her legs, until every shift on her body brings her right down on his thigh and –

Oh, that is – that’s not –

Okay, maybe this is a problem.

“Oh,” she breathes, jolting away, right back into the wall. That should be it, end of moment, but she – she doesn’t let go of his hands, and then he’s crashing into her, just catching himself on the wall, her hands still twined in his –

“Sorry.” He swallows; she’s so close she can hear it. She can see it too, and the way his eyes are all dark, mostly pupil with a thin rim of gold. His leg is still between hers, and her hands press up by her shoulder, and he’s just – so, so tall –

If he’d just bend down a little, maybe she could –

“Eep!” she yelps, pocket buzzing. “That’s just – I think Yuzuri –”

“Oh,” he breathes, pulling back. “Right. Her clubbing thing.”

r u guys gonna be ready soon?i wanna b drinking already

Obi’s already wandered away, back to the couch, and she –

i think our night is already spoken forobi wants to stay inbut let’s do breakfast tomorrow

boobut i get to pick the place

#Anonymous #The Wide Florida Bay #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #my fic #ans #Obi is one of those guys who is like #your extremely attractive friend #and Shirayuki is not like...NEW to thinking about stuff nebulously involving him #but between here and the dinner her struggle is really...#that this is longer and much more sober period than she ever managed before #and stuff with Zen is weird #and so she can't just...start thinking about how her life is all planned out #two years at lyrias and then a PhD and everything is all set!#that's apparently a plan Zen forgot about #and now Obi's attractiveness is OMNIPRESENT #a constant companion #and she doesn't know how to DEAL with real attraction #it's not until the dinner that she finally puts together that OH HUH #she wants to be his GIRLFRIEND #and obv she's telling Yuzuri nothing #because Yuzuri would be like PLEASE JUST BANG AND GET MARRIED ALREADY and she knows it

22 notes · View notes

pseudologia-fantasia · 6 years

Text

Libidinous - Chapter Two

Originally posted on Wattpad

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ

Mature content including:

extreme sexual activity, rape, addiction.

Read at own risk.

Please do not report, if you don't like, then don't read.

All characters belong to Hiro Mashima.

Lucy dropped the thin and practically empty purse onto her sofa, and instantly began to strip herself of what she wore.

She had just lost her third favorite bra, and was quietly mourning this fact in the back of her head.

She left a trail of her clothing as she rushed to the shower, turning it on and stepping in before giving it a moment to heat up.

The rush of cold water did her good in all honesty. It woke her up in just a moment, reviving her from her exhaustion from the lack of sleep from the previous night.

After washing herself down to the bone. She was running out of the bathroom, shaking herself dry and rubbing her body and hair with a fringed old towel.

She dug into her messy drawer, pulling out a dull pair of white briefs and slipping them on with a plain white bra.

As she slipped on her uniform, she grabbed a granola bar from an open box in her kinda kitchen.

By kinda kitchen she meant she kinda had a kitchen.

There was a bit of counter space, with a mini fridge, microwave, and small heater she would do any cooking she couldn't manage to do in a microwave. She ought to get a toaster oven or something, but her family wouldn't send a check for another 2 weeks and she hadn't save up enough for that kind of luxury.

Her hair was a little messy, and as she put on her glasses she looked in the grungy mirror she hung in her kinda kitchen.

She looked really young for some reason. She liked to think it was the glasses or the slightly oversized uniform.

But her small size seemed to be all the more highlighted in all she wore.

With a naked face and messy head of hair, Lucy fled from her apartment and rushed to school.

She never felt at home in the clothes she wore to school. They were a little baggy and made her look stupid. Maybe this was one of the reasons she found herself so inclined to put on the skinny little slutty dress at night.

She arrived at school somewhere into first period. However, she wasn't missing class, she had purposely set up a study hall in the morning incase this very thing happened.

She entered the library and scurried towards the supervisor.

"Sorry ma'am, I was a little ill last night so I over slept." If she can ring out enough sympathy, she might be successful.

The teacher looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Sick?"

"Yes, I think I got food poisoning. I was throwing up into the night."

Lucy really didn't want another tardy. If her parents saw a large quantity of tardies on her record they would she she's being truant.

"Oh I'm sorry, I wouldn't have even come into the school if I were you." She checked her name off. "Well why don't you go sit down and rest, I'll handle your attendance."

She bowed her head appreciatively and smiled as she walked over to take a seat in the library at a table.

She opened up her bag and let a series of books and papers spill out onto the table top.

Her hand ran across them as she found the notebook for her history notes and flipped them open.

As she sat there reading through the notes, she grunted lowly as she felt a heat between her legs.

She wasn't sure why, but she was feeling really horny.

She slipped of her jacket casually, then placed it over her lap in a slow and steady motion. Lucy allowed herself to sink into her seat as one of her hands slipped under the jacket and the other flipped through the notes.

She places her fingers between her legs, flicking gently at her clit through the rough and scratchy white briefs she wore.

She groaned lowly as she pushed her finger into center, drawing circles through her underwear.

She hummed quietly as she flipped through another page of her notes to look busy. Lucy arched her back slightly as she stared at her notes in a daze and began to imagine herself sitting on someone's face.

She wasn't sure who the person was, but they locked at her pussy like it was the sweetest candy.

Their tongue felt so good, hot and a little scratchy as it left long strokes between her wet folds.

She grunted in silent frustration, realizing this fantasy couldn't possible come true until Friday thanks to her rule.

Only on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays would she allow herself to go out and have sex with strange men.

She was trying to lean off, originally it Thursday too, but she had managed to drop that day as well.

She was hoping to drop Wednesday by the next month, and maybe get it to only Saturdays.

She could masturbate any day she liked, except Sunday, that is.

His lips would tug greedily at her clit, his hands pushing done on her hips so she'd grind into his mouth. He had a strong grip, and it felt amazing as his lips made out with her pussy.

She closed her eyes for a moment, filling in the body of the girl who clawed at the head of hair of the guy kissing her lower lips.

Her pussy now wet, she moved off of him to look at the imaginary man's face.

She gasped as she looked at the hot and sweaty face of the boy she'd met that morning.

"Lucy!"

Her eyes snap open and a feeling I'm her stomach erupts as she thinks she'd just been found out for masturbating in front of a whole class of students.

She looked up to see the smiling face of the boy from the morning. She one she was sitting on in her heads moments ago.

His eyes were so bright and happy to see her.

"Hey, how are you?"

She nodded her head lightly as she watched him sit down across from her.

"Um, good." She cleared her throat. "Natsu, right?"

"Hey you remembered!" His grin widened, and he leaned onto the table. "Don't worry. I haven't told anyone, your secret is safe with me."

He put his finger over his lips like a child. And Lucy, hand still in her arousal, only felt her fantasies become a bit more vivid.

He span her over onto the table, slamming her against it stomach first as he pulled her panties down and smacked the bare flesh roughly.

His lips drew to her pussy from behind as he kissed in sloppily, his fingers running through her legs to dig into it.

He thrust violently in between her wet folds. His lips tugging greedily as he sucked up all her wet pussy juices.

Then he'd pull out his large erect manhood and put it to the tip of her anus.

"So what're you doing here?"

"Study hall." She answered quietly.

He teased the bundle of nerves at her entrance and ran his hand down her back in a long clean stroke.

She gasped as he pushed into her in a quick dirty thrust. Penetrating her in just a moment.

"So why were you sleeping at that man's house--"

"Shh--" she hissed violently.

He smacked her on the rear as he gave more hard, sloppy thrusts into her. She was screaming out his name as he cursed out profanities.

"Oh right! Secret." He giggled like a little girl as he leaned in whispering. "So was he your friend. Are you related?"

Lucy grunted in disgust for a moment, but then felt a moment of sheer relief.

He had no clue what she and his neighbor had done last night.

"Oh my gosh." She whispered in a husky breath. "Um, Natsu, what do you think we were doing last night?"

He hit her g-spot, and Lucy let out a scream as he banged into it over and over again. Thrusting in wildly as his fingers dug into the flesh at her hips, leaving bruises where his fingers were.

"Um...well." He sat in deep thought, thinking it was some kind of trick question. "We're you watching a movie or something?"

"Well, no," Lucy cleared her throat. "We were doing other things."

His manhood grew large, as Lucy felt it grind against her walls. She thrust her hips back to meet his own movement.

"You like that?" His rough voice huffed in a heavy breath.

"Yes! More! Faster!" Lucy gasped.

Natsu spanked her again, and dug his fingers into her pussy as he plunged into her anus. His hands trailed down her back as he thrust into her.

"Your so tight!" He hissed.

"What?"

"I said are you alright?"

Lucy blinked a few moments as she nodded her head. "Yeah, yeah. I've got a bit of a headache that's all."

He stood up from his seat, just to lean over the table and get a better view of the the papers in front of her. "Whatcha readin'?"

"My history notes." She brought her finger to her mouth and licked its pad to turn the page.

Natsu leaned over onto Lucy's back, sucking the skin on her back leaving hickeys all over her pale skin. She gasped and he drew his fingers to her face, sticking his fingers into her mouth. She sucked on the delicious wetness from her own pussy, licking the fingers clean.

"Sounds boring." His eyebrows furrowed.

"I have a test."

As he pounded into her, she felt herself coming to the edge. She gasped for breath as Lucy felt herself rising to her climax.

"Hey, I'll see you later." Natsu shot up from his seat, a smile on his face. "It was nice talking to you. Tell me if you decide to have another sleepover with that guy."

"Kay."

She watched him walk away, his hands put in his pockets as walked away from table.

As she watched him leave, she dropped her head down onto her notes, hitting an orgasm in front of all those in the library. Luckily, no one quite noticed.

#fairy tail #fairy tail lucy #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail lemon #libidinous #Nalu #fairy tail nalu

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twenty-nothing · 3 years

Text

OneHundredSeventyFive

Books

Which book series was the first you read?

- Junie B. Jones

What was the last book you read? - Joyland by Stephen King

Would you rather write a book or direct a movie? - Direct a movie

Dreams

Do you usually remember your dreams?

- The good ones yeah, very few linger past 48 hours though

Are most of your dreams good, scary or just plain weird?

- Good

What dream that you’ve had has stuck in your head the most? Describe: - Went through something terrifying with a group of people and ended up getting engaged to one of them because the event bonded us.

Emotions

What emotion do you find yourself trying to hide from others?

- My depression/loneliness

How emotional/sentimental would you say you are? - Very much so

Do your emotions control you or do you control your emotions? - They control me for sure

Fun

What do you do for fun?

- Watch TV, read books, go for walks, listen to music

Which is more fun: cycling, watching tv, roller coaster ride or cooking? - Cycling

What is the funnest game to play? - Cards Against Humanities

Geometry

Nearest square thing to you?

- Side table

What was the last circular thing you ate? - A container of queso? lmao

Is there anything triangular in the room you’re in right now? - No

Height

Are you taller or shorter than average?

- Short I would say, 5′4′’

Is your Mum tall or short? How about your Dad? - My parents are on the shorter side. Mom 5′3′’ and Dad 5′8′’

Do you wish you were taller or shorter? - I’m good with my height

If…

If you became pregnant or your partner did, what would you do?

- I don’t think I’d be mentally ready but I finally got a good paying job, great health insurance and all so I think I would keep it

If you lost something your friend lent to you, what would you do? - Feel horrible and offer to replace it

If you had to talk about 1 subject for a minute live on TV, which one? - What makes a good restaurant

Jokes

Do you normally tell jokes or listen to the jokes?

- Tell them but I like a mix of both

What is your sense of humor like (dry, dark, sarcastic etc)? - Sarcastic

Kisses

Do you put x’s in your text messages?

- Nope

When did you last have a kiss? - It’s been a few years

Does your grandma give you big sloppy kisses when she sees you? - No, we just hug each other

Language

How many languages can you say ‘hello my name is…’ in?

- Two, English and French

What language do you think sounds the nicest? - French

What language do you want to learn more of? - French lol

Marriage

Do you ever want to get married?

- Yes

Church or Registry Office? - Registry Office

Dream wedding? - I’d like something simple and nice, with not too many people

Names

Your closest friends names?

- Lisa and Elaine

What names would you ever call your kids? - Lily or Angie for girl and Paul for boy

What name is the cutest for a little black and white doggie? - No idea lol

Order

Are you tidy?

- I like to say I am but I’m not really

Do you colour code things or put them in alphabetical order? - It depends what it is lol My DVDs are in alphabetical order and my nail polish is color coded

Do you have any form of OCD? - Nope

Promises

Do you make promises often?

- Not really. I make them when other people ask me to promise something, but it doesn’t happen often

What was the last promise you made? - I don’t remember, it has been a while

Do you plan to keep that promise? - ^^

Quizzes

What types of online quizzes/surveys do you like taking? - I love taking personality quizzes. As for surveys, I like the random and themed ones the most

Have you ever made a quiz? What was it about? - Nope

Have you ever taken an EQ or IQ test? If so, what did you get? - I haven’t

Secrets

Do you have a lot of secrets?

- I have a couple

“A secret isn’t a secret if you tell one person.” Is this true to you? - Yes if they will go around telling everyone

Thought Provoking

If you knew you had a high chance of dying, would you kill yourself before disease riddled you unable or hope for the best?

- If I had an illness that slowly and painfully killed me, then yes

Choose a box: 1 has a large amount of money, the other either a wish or fear of yours come true. Which do you pick? - The amount of money, I’m sure that will help me make a wish come true

An angel comes to you and offers to show you one thing from the future or the past; past or future and what is that thing gonna be? - The future, my life in 10 years

Unlucky

Would you say you are more unlucky or lucky?

- Unlucky

A leprechaun pops up and offers to plant some luck on you but it could go either way. Risk it or dismiss it? - Yeah what the fuck, I’m never very lucky anyway so might as well risk it

Violence

When did you last hit or punch someone?

- Junior high

When did you last get hit or punched? - Never been hit or punched

Are you more likely to be verbally aggressive or physically? - Verbal

Warnings

Do you listen when someone gives you a warning?

- Sometimes, I need to learn to listen more

What warning has someone gave you that you wish you’d have listened to? - To stay far far away from my last job

What warning has someone gave you you are glad you didn’t take? - Community college won’t get you anywhere, you better go to a 4 year school

XXX

Have you ever had sex?

- Yes

Have you ever accidentally saw someone having sex? - No

YouTube

Do you go onto YouTube?

- Yes

What is your favourite video of on YouTube? - I like lyric videos,food reviews, mukbangs, disney vlogs, asmr

What channels do you go on the most? - Steph Pappas, TheTimTracker

Zodiac

What’s your star sign?

Cancer

What are the traits of that sign? Do you have them? Emotional, sensitive, strong willed and all of them fit me

What zodiac sign do you think you suit the most?

- Mine 100%

Number 1

Name me 1 person who has changed your life for the better?

- Matt, learned a lot through that bullshit

Name me 1 object that’s in your kitchen right now? - Fridge

Name one creature that freaks you out/scares you? - Spiders

Number 2

2nd person that you talked to today was…

- Only talked to one person today

What is 2 times your favorite number? - 34

You and two of your friends have got in trouble with the law. Who are the 2 friends you have got in trouble with and what did you do? - Lisa and Elaine and I dont know some stupid shit

Number 3

3 words that don’t describe you at all:

- Mean, simple, creative

Who is 3rd in your contacts list on your phone? - Aunt Ang

In 3 more days, what will the date be? - April 4th

#very long #long #random #personal #survey #courtneyhelene

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madokasoratsugu · 7 years

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SouTaku and Ikumi x Megumi for the ship meme?

aaaaAAA YES. btw ikumi/megumi (god bless u for sending this ship 2 me btw) is under the cut else this would have gotten Long lmao

send me a ship and ill break them down

Soutaku:

How did they they meet?

one arrogant speech and extended shoe grinding later

Who developed romantic feelings first?

OH BOY definitely Takumi !! he starts to realise that this rivalry is getting a lot more serious, and hey, he wants to be by this guy’s side not just because he’s a fun challenge, he has this way with words and smiles a little too wide that makes you breath catch and is stupidly good looking and - oh.

Who is their biggest “shipper?”

Isami.....he saw through his brother Straight Away, but unlike popular belief doesn’t tease him about it from the get go. he let Takumi sort through his feelings (and internalised homophobia) but gently lets Takumi know that he’s there for him and honestly, he just wants his brother to be happy :”))) even if he has to pull a few strings himself to help his brother hohoho

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?

after they confess to each other, there’s relieved laughter and bumping foreheads and shaking hands, and Takumi, still riding the adrenaline high, leans in and kisses Souma on the corner of his mouth, smile sloppy and honest against Souma’s skin. Souma immediately goes in for a better aimed kiss after Takumi moves away, and there’s no fireworks or popped champagne; but there’s soft sighs and melting fear and that’s enough.

Who confessed their feelings first?

THEY YELLED IT AT EACH OTHER DURING END OF SECOND YEAR LMAO. a fiery argument about avoidance and excuses leads to them screaming confessions and awkward silences and just ?? kk we like each other hahah- wait wHAT TH

orr an alternate confession scene i like equally is Takumi confesses to Souma during graduation but Souma doesn’t reciprocate(or he thinks he doesn’t) and rejects Takumi and all Takumi can do is smile and say “yeah, i know.”but then months later of unwarranted irritation, Souma sees Takumi tagged in a photo on Instagram and everything hits him at once and he realises he’s made a big miss steak

What was their first official date?

i wish i could say they planned it but god damn, Souma is shit at following plans and Takumi wants/expects too much so they compromise and decide to improvise on the day itself.

so they end up with the same idea: food tour !!!! they spend the entire morning/afternoon exploring the city and all the lil alleyway stores hidden away plus visiting well known restaurant. in the late afternoon till evening they wind up resting on a park bench talking while sharing too sweet soda and too salty fries. they hold hands the entire time and share shy kisses in the shade whenever they can (it sort of becomes a game about who can sneak the most kisses during the date)

How do they feel about double dates/group dates?

sorta eh. they’re not super into the idea but not against it either? dk imo they’d prefer having personal dates but they’re open to having double dates.

What do they do in their down time?

(when they’re not cooking)

Souma watches trash tv while Takumi reads, curled up against Souma. occasionally they’ll make comments about the other’s media of choice. (”you think that book is good? wait till you get to chapter 5″ “are you watching another rerun of csi miami??”)

together though, they enjoy going out together for walks and checking out newly opened shops (any and all types welcomed).

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like?

Jouichirou was so. so chill. a surprised blink, then shrugged and absolutely burst into a grin. “i see, i see. so what about my son attracted you, Takumi?” there’s no intimidation or anything bc he already knows Takumi is a competent, dependable and stout hearted person and chef from Central Arc, and is a better person than he ever hoped Souma could find (and spend the rest of his life with).

Toshiaki and Aurora were a lot more surprised (mainly bc Takumi was so closed off about love), though Aurora kinda...expected it. a mother’s sixth sense is hardly ever wrong, and the fluster her elder son gets into when the redhead is mentioned over the phone gives away waaay more than Takumi ever realises. Toshiaki has a quiet talk with Souma (which he testifies to be a lot more scary than his encounter with Aurora earlier in the kitchen) about Takumi, their relationship and future plans. but the couple are quick to accept Souma, it’s hard not to trust and love someone their own son loves so dearly, after all.

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it?

(barring the confession scene fight)

Souma’s wanderlust can’t be contained, and Takumi knows this. but they get engaged young (probs 21ish) and Souma is away more often and gets in contact less than Takumi likes, and it makes him uneasy and worried and he deals with this by overworking.

after too much lack of sleep nearly has Takumi collapsing in the kitchen and one sternly cold phone call by Isami later, Souma rushes back to Italy and confronts Takumi. Takumi has an outburst of more sadness and frustration (towards himself for not being able to articulate his feelings, not being able to handle anything well and not being able to trust Souma fully; “i was the one who said it was okay for you to go, how can i be so selfish as to ask you to come back as and when i want?”) than anger and Souma is fuckin heartbroken.

they end up talking a lot about the importance of communication and letting feelings out and being better fiances to each other that night.

(its not rly a fight bc i cant imagine them fighting over anything more serious than “i told you to tell me when we ran out of milk, this is the third time this month you haven’t, yukihira souma !!!” or getting angry at each other over something actually relevant like their safety or smth lolol)

Which one is more easily made jealous?

oooh this surprises a lot of people but Souma. Souma is so easily made jealous, and the best part is no one can tell? Takumi gets jealous too, but not as easily or as irritated as Souma.

Souma gets all sorts of jealous, like he’ll purposely hold the hand that that weird salesman grabbed for a little too long, snake his arm around Takumi’s waist a little too tightly when he catches someone just looking in Takumi’s direction. his attitude also does a complete 180 when he’s jealous; he’s a lot more curt and annoyed. Takumi finds this weirdly cute.

What is their favourite thing to get to eat?

this is so fuckin cliche but each other’s homecooking :”)))

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favourite cuddling position?

Takumi is the touchy feely one !! he really likes being in contact with Souma in one way or another. fav cuddling position is curled up against Souma’s side or back against Souma’s chest, in between his legs.

Are they hand holders?

YAH TOTALLY. chronic hand holders. try catching them together without holding hands. they especially like twining their fingers together.

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances?

///vaguely nsfw

........personally i think they slept together nearing the end of third year? after their finals, during an in between break after finals+results and before their graduation.

Isami was away for a head start in his internship with Momo, and they were alone at Takumi’s apartment. it was raining pretty badly and getting chilly, so Souma suggests sharing blankets when they’re going to bed entirely just to tease Takumi, but Takumi actually crawls under covers with him and Souma’s ?? didn’t expect that but not complaining.

they’re just quietly sitting against the wall, acutely aware of how close they are when Takumi turns to Souma and starts trying to say something but doesn’t, and Souma just kisses him, once, gently. (“just felt like it.” “oh.”) then one kiss leads to another and welp.((don’t ask takumi why he has a bottle of lube in his bedside drawer, he’ll combust and maybe die.))

Who tops?

they switch, all the time. depends on mood and atmosphere !!

What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?

the first time they ever tried to dirty talk in Italian. Souma started it and it was horrendous. Takumi couldn’t stop laughing for weeks any time he remembered it. he still can’t.

Who does the shopping and the cooking?

Takumi does more of the shopping (though they often do it together) and Souma cooks more !! they try to split the tasks (esp cooking) equally but there’re preferences and they lean towards it.

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness?

......Takumi. he’s actually tidy on a normal person’s standard. Souma is tidy on his own standard, which is ‘as long as i know where everything is, why does it matter that my desk looks like world war z?’

Who proposes?

Souma !! he actually hooks Shinomiya into it - getting them an isolated table at SHINO’s Tokyo for a nice dinner, then going for a short walk to a romantic and private place around the area where he can propose (as recommended by Shinomiya). Souma settles for under a willow tree near the edge of a park, and Takumi cries a lot.

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bacheloette parties or separate?

they have one together !! actually its more of an afterparty with everyone they’ve invited to their wedding !!

Who is the best man/maid of honour? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids?

Isami is Takumi’s best man ofc. Megumi is Souma’s maid of honour !!

Big Ceremony or Small?

a small ceremony !! not being outed to everyone in the entire world is preferable, esp when they both have insane reputations from graduating Tootsuki as second and third seats.

ive talked about their future wedding here before haha!!

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?

OHH DEF. idk tho like....probs somewhere ridiculously romantic like Paris. they’re a ridiculously sappy couple. they have fun sightseeing and tasting authentic French cuisine.

Do they have children? How many?

never really thought about it, but they def have dogs, if that counts? two, to be exact. both adopted, one golden retriever named lemonade and a dobermann named stoic. they are aptly named after their characteristics; lemonade is bubbly and fun, stoic is, well, stoic.

Ikumi/Megumi:

How did they they meet?

through Souma, ironically enough. its funny ending up with someone who used to crush on the same person you did :”)))

Who developed romantic feelings first?

Ikumi !!! after she got over Souma (pretty quickly too, near the end of her first year and realising she could do a lot better and Souma wasn’t anywhere interested in her anyway), and started figuring a lot of things about herself, she started paying a lot more attention to Megumi (it helps that they had tons of classes together in second year), because something about Megumi just...attracts people and makes them watch out for her, yknow?

her friendship with Megumi deepens quite a bit, and they even start having lunch together + instinctively looking at each other during partner/group work. she kinda...guesses that she might like Megumi but its after one really vivid dream of Megumi and her on a date later, that Ikumi actually confronts her feelings lol.

Who is their biggest “shipper?”

Souma !! he’s really goshdarned happy that Ikumi finally found someone she liked properly (he was aware of her crush, but never said anything bc he figures whatever form of love it is, it really isnt his place to say anything till Ikumi does) and that Megumi, sweet darling Megumi, has someone to properly cherish and love her.

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?

around Summer of second year, during a festival, under the fireworks. they were sitting next to each other on a grassy field, watching the fireworks flare to life noisily. with each illuminating bloom, throwing dully neon colours over the wondrous look on Megumi’s face, Ikumi finds her heart beating faster and harder.Megumi turns to comment about how pretty the fireworks are, Ikumi agrees, and kisses her softly. they break apart after a while, and there’s a little embarrassed fluster and ‘o-oh my gosh i dont know what got into me - !’ before Megumi shyly pipes up that it was nice, and she didn’t mind. they spend the rest of the fireworks show leaning against each other, their fingers curled together on their laps.

Who confessed their feelings first?

Megumi !! she was behaving oddly shy that day, and Ikumi was ?? what’s going on. during lunch, she offers Ikumi a charabento and Ikumi is really touched, and impressed. “you made this, tadokoro-chan?” “a-ah, y-yes, uhm - !” “wow, that’s amazing, you have to teach me how to make it sometime !!” “uhm - !! ikumi-san...” snapping of chopsticks, a blinding smile. “yes?” “i-i really like you.” the words come a near whisper, swept away with the wind. the sudden flush of Megumi’s face isn’t gone that easily, though.

Ikumi finds herself blushing madly too, and she blurts “really??” and Megumi looks at her for a moment, before hesitantly nodding. Megumi’s fists knead into her plaid skirt, averting Ikumi’s dumbfounded stare. “i - i don’t know how to explain it, but you make me really, really happy and floaty and it’s just...i wanted you to know that you mean something special to me.” Ikumi feels like a cat has gotten her tongue. “and i - i don’t need an answer n - now -” “but i like you too !!”and then it’s a blushing fest and a spying Souma from the second floor fist pumps the air.

What was their first official date?

AMUSEMENT PARK DATE. Ikumi’s never been to one and Megumi thinks that is Abominable and Must be remedied immediately.

it’s fizzy and fun and oh boy, do they go wild. all the roller coasters, carnival snacks and rides they can go on they do. they take So Many selfies, buy the cutest matching headbands, and laugh so much their cheeks get sore.

at the end ofc they go on the ferris wheel and enjoy a romantic 45min alone, quietly appreciating the spectacular view and their girlfriend’s beauty.

How do they feel about double dates/group dates?

they’re ok with it !!

What do they do in their down time?

(when not cooking lol)

Megumi really, really likes plants, but doesn’t have the confidence to have an entire veranda garden like Takumi bc of lack of experience (u should see Takumi’s veranda back in Italy) and general anxiety about it, so she keeps a few potted plants, cacti and bonsai instead !! she likes spending time trimming her bonsai or talking to them !

Ikumi dabbles in the crafts, like sewing and knitting, as a major fuck you to her dad (she can be a capable boss and feminine at the same time these things aren’t mutually exclusive). she made a few of her own outfits + Megumi’s !! in fact Megumi’s fac one piece dress was made my Ikumi :”))

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like?

Megumi’s parents were a lil surprised bc sweet lil Megumi has brought back a potential partner !! dear u will not believe this !! Ikumi made lots of effort to dress up and look proper, so they quickly warmed up to her earnest nature and really, really liked her. she left an incredibly good first impression with her personality and great conversational skills. the fishermen dudes were skeptical and protective of Megumi at first but Ikumi’s competence and care for Megumi quickly shone through and they readily accepted her. someone Megumi cares for that much has to be a good person, they reckon :”))

Ikumi’s mother really, really liked Megumi. she found Megumi’s soft spokenness and iron will really endearing, and was glad Ikumi had found someone who accepted her for all is she and even encouraged her to become a better version of herself. Ikumi’s dad was an asshole who refused to even see Megumi, because he doesn’t believe in marrying down your status. Megumi left a note with a medium rare steak (fav dish of Ikumi’s dad) she cooked, requesting that Ikumi’s mum serve this to him later on. Ikumi’s dad could sense the sincerity in Megumi’s dish, but doesn’t fully accept her till ~2-3years later.

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it?

after one particularly bad family weekend with Ikumi’s dad, Ikumi was upset that Megumi let him walk all over her like that. they fought a little, mainly Ikumi ranting about how Megumi is too soft, why shouldn’t she stand up for herself?! why should she have to stand for all this verbal abuse? (Megumi had withstood nearly the entire evening, till Ikumi’s dad sneered a comment that made Ikumi twitch uncomfortably. then she’d spoken up, softly. “please don’t speak about your own daughter this way, Mito-san. it’s highly unbecoming and irksome.” then had a staredown before Ikumi’s dad left the table w/out finishing the meal.)

Megumi manages to calm a near tears Ikumi down, and explains that its just a part of getting Ikumi’s dad to accept her, but nonetheless agrees to stick up for herself a little more.

Which one is more easily made jealous?

Ikumi !! :’3cc she has a habit of clicking her tongue when she gets jealous lol.

What is their favourite thing to get to eat?

Megumi’s fav is Ikumi’s homemade ice cream !! she doesn’t make it much but it’s so creamy and good.

Ikumi really enjoys all of Megumi’s soups/stews !! warm and filling and perfect for a rainy/Winter day in.

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favourite cuddling position?

both !!! they like facing each other, snuggled tight.

Are they hand holders?

kinda? they like holding hands for sure, but link arms a lot more.

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances?

//vaguely nsfw

hmmm they’re about 20-21ish when Ikumi’s dad is kinda approving of Megumi alr and they’re in a peaceful time for their relationship !! Megumi is back at her ryokan helping out, and Ikumi visits her.

they share Megumi’s room for the night, which is pretty big, and there’s this Mood, and they get down to it !!

Who tops?

switch, depends on mood !! i actually headcanon neither have really high libidos, so they don’t sex much lolol

What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?

the first time they tried to take a selfie. the wrong angle, combined with an unstable hand, nervous smiles and ‘idk why its not taking the photo waIT IT IS -’ made for a pretty hilarious experience.

Who does the shopping and the cooking?

they do it together !!! catch em in the kitchen wearing matching aprons and cookin up the finest cuisine u can dream of.

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness?

both are, though Ikumi is more of a stickler for tidiness while Megumi can survive letting things pile up for a while.

Who proposes?

Megumi !! she pops the question immediately after Ikumi’s dad gives her the greenlight for their relationship !!

while driving them home that night she parks off the side of the road, a highway overlooking the ocean, takes out the engagement ring she’s had on her since forever, “i wanted this to be more romantic, but i just can’t wait anymore -” and she softly asks Ikumi to marry her and Ikumi sobs and nods and it’s perfect.

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bacheloette parties or separate?

together !!! they have a girl’s only slumber party with their close friends from Tootsuki lmao

Who is the best man/maid of honour? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids?

Souma is Megumi’s best man !! Takumi is Ikumi’s best man :”))) (they got along really well in the second year too, and keep in touch quite often)

Big Ceremony or Small?

...somewhere in the middle !! Ikumi’s family is fairly influential so the wedding is large scale to a certain amount, but Megumi stated that she’d prefer a more private wedding so they settled for close family and friends with a few trusted business associates.

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?

yup !!! they go to Venice, Italy ! Megumi has always wanted to go there so they decided to make it their honeymoon destination ! they have a splendid week there, and end it off having a great dinner party at the Trattoria, on Isami and Takumi’s invitation.

Do they have children? How many?

hmmm probably? i headcanon they adopt a 10yo girl and her 14yo brother, and they make a cute family !!

#shokugeki no soma #food wars #soutaku #ikumegu #yukihira souma #takumi aldini #ikumi mito #tadokoro megumi #shokugeki headcanons #inquiries #polar-stars

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