#caitiewrites

[bobmckenzie]

Fake Dating -> JanAUary

word count: 1294

blurb: Caitie helps Bob out when he almost gets caught in a lie.

Apparently a hockey game wasn’t many people’s ideal Valentine’s Day date—last minute tickets had been cheap enough that the singles trio of Bob, Doug, and Caitie were able to score three decent seats to the Maple Leafs game. 

Doug had convinced them that snacks wouldn’t be so cheap though, and that they could smuggle in some small bags rather than pay for food inside the stadium. So they took a trip to the grocery store the day before, perusing the aisles for bags of treats small enough to sneak in.

Doug went off to the chip aisle while Caitie followed Bob to the candy, but she left a minute or two ago to check out the trail mix, leaving him alone to look over the little bags of sweets. He was so distracted he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching him in the empty aisle.

“McKenzie.” The voice of the greeting made Bob’s back go rigid, had him turning around with a startled glare. 

It was Sean LaDue, a general bully growing up who had turned into the strongest player on the rivaling town's hockey team, followed by his younger brother. Sean had slammed Bob against the glass more times than he could count, but even that was less annoying than the general condescension he always used.

Sean nodded to the gummy bears in Bob’s hand. “You eat that crap between games, it’s no wonder you play so badly.”

“Oh yeah?” Bob put on his best tough guy voice as he looked up at Sean. “So like, why are you in the candy aisle then, eh?” 

Sean held up a pink bag of mixed chocolates with a smug look. “Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, these are for my girlfriend.” He let out a snort of laughter. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you don’t have any plans for tomorrow.” 

“Well, like, you’re wrong, eh. Goin’ to the Leafs game.”

“Plans with that idiot brother of yours don’t count.”

“Doug isn’t no idiot, and it isn’t just us two, eh. ‘Cause like, my girlfriend’s comin’ along too.” It was a stupid thing to say, but the lie he wished was truth slipped out before he could stop it.

“Oh yeah?” Sean’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”

He knew he shouldn’t say it, knew he should back out of the lie, tell Sean she wasn’t technically his girlfriend… “Caitie.”

“Uh huh. I’ll bet she even came with an air pump to blow her up for you and everything.”

“Take off.” Bob sneered. He saw Sean’s gaze shift behind him and turned to see Caitie coming back down the aisle, stopping right next to Bob, oblivious to the whole situation.

“Would you eat honey roasted peanuts?” she asked him, showing him the box of little packets she brought with her. ”They don’t sell them individually, so I won’t get ‘em if you guys don’t want any.”

“Um,” His gaze flicked to Sean, who was watching them doubtfully. “I… yeah. I like those. Let’s go, huh?”

She laughed. “I didn’t get to look at the candy. Besides, I told Doug to meet us in this aisle.”

Sean stepped a little closer. “What, McKenzie, you’re not gonna introduce me?”

Caitie’s eyes widened a little, looking between the two men, clearly realizing she’d missed something.

His stomach dropped; the jig was no doubt up. “Yeah, um,” Bob gestured to Sean, “Caitie, this is Sean LaDue. We went to school together and stuff.” He was sure she’d remember the name from the few stories he’d told her about him—she was good with things like that. Sure enough, he saw the surprise in her eyes turn into a poorly-hidden scowl. “Sean, this is Caitie—”

“The girlfriend.” Sean nodded. “Bob was just telling me about you.”

Caitie looked at Bob, seemingly waiting for him to step in, to correct the title. But all he did was look up at her with pleading eyes, trying to silently apologize and ask her not to humiliate him all at once.

Still, it was a lot to ask. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go along with it, wouldn’t want to risk word getting around that they were dating—

“Oh, he was?” The words were simple, but the way she sidled closer to Bob, slinking an arm around his waist, said more than he could’ve asked for. His face warmed as she gently tugged him closer, urging him to relax against her side. His face was so warm, he was sure it was going red.

The smug look of Sean’s finally fell. “Yeah. Didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” He cleared his throat, straightening a little as Bob wrapped his arm around Caitie. “Some romantic valentine’s date he’s taking you on. A hockey game with his brother?”

Caitie laughed. “Oh, well… not that I’d mind, but that’s not our date. We’re going to dinner in the city in the evening.” She looked down at Bob with a soft smile. “He even bought me a dress and everything.” She raised a shoulder, turning back to Sean. “I told him not to, but he’s always spoiling me.”

If Bob wasn’t already in love with her, he would’ve fallen right then and there in the candy aisle. Not only was she going along with his lie, but she was making him look like the best boyfriend around. 

He smiled, trying not to gloat. “Well hey, only the best for my girl, eh.” 

The look she gave him told him she was having fun with all of this, that she knew exactly how good it felt for him to rub their perfect relationship in Sean’s face, whether it was real or not. “You’re always using that excuse,” she said, leaning down and pressing a short, warm kiss against his cheek. His heart skipped in his chest, breath catching. He swore he could feel her lips there even after they were gone.

“Well… Nice meeting you. See you at the next game, McKenzie.” Sean nodded a goodbye, sending one last skeptical look at Caitie before turning around and leaving the aisle.

For once in his life, Bob felt like he'd had a conversation with a LaDue without coming out on the losing end. His cheek still tingling, he let his arm fall from around her, though he wanted to pull her into a hug. “Thanks, eh. You like, didn’t have to do that—it was real nice of you.”

She laughed softly, reaching out to brush her thumb against his cheek—her lipstick must’ve left a stain behind, he realized. Part of him wanted to tell her just to leave it. “You don’t think the kiss was overkill?”

He shook his head. If anything, he wished she’d just gone ahead and kissed him on the lips. “Sorry I told him we was datin’. I wasn’t thinkin’—he was just bein’ such a hose.”

Caitie shrugged, smiling as she finished cleaning his face. “I don’t mind. Though, I think you’re a little out of my league.”

He thought she was being sarcastic until he noticed the soft look in her eyes. Before he could say anything, her gaze shifted, eyes widening, urging him to turn and see what had her so stunned. 

It was Doug, of course, walking into the aisle with arms filled with bags of chips that were far too big for sneaking anywhere, and a pint of ice cream to top it all off. As Caitie burst into laughter and headed over to help him, asking how exactly he was planning to hide a family sized bag of Funyuns in his flannel, Bob stayed back for a moment, promising that someday he’d get the nerve to ask if that meant she’d give him a chance as a real boyfriend.

#idk if the LaDue brothers have first names in the cartoon i just made one up LOL i was too lazy to check #i love borrowing the most random things from that show as canon #also i 100% thought this was like 600 words idk where all that came from lsdkjfkjsf #janauary2024 #self ship writing #self ship community #peanut butter and jelly donut #caitiewrites

[bobmckenzie]

sleeping in -> drabblecember day 10

word count: 1246 blurb: Caitie sleeps in late and doesn't have time to get all dolled up for her date with Louis, who so far has only seen her as her stage persona

Caitie woke up to sunlight streaming through the frosted window of her bedroom. Rolling over onto her side, she snuggled into her pillow, the fog of an already forgotten dream lifting as her thoughts shifted to her plans for the day. Her eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile spread on her face as she watched the light snowfall outside. 

Another band practice tonight… Gotta get some groceries… Breakfast date with Louis… Breakfast date with Louis!

She shot upright, grabbing the alarm clock sitting on her bedside table. The numbers 8:30 flashed back at her almost mockingly, causing her to swear and throw off the covers, cringing as her bare feet met the cold wooden floor—if the shock of getting up so late didn’t wake her up, that definitely did.

She rushed to the bathroom, starting to brush her teeth before heading back to her mess of a closet to pick out something to wear. She’d meant to do it last night, but was so worn out that she decided to save it for the morning and set her alarm a little earlier. Some good that did—she’d hit snooze and promised herself five more minutes, which had turned into forty-five. 

She silently prayed Louis would be late as she flicked through hanger after hanger, but already knew him better than that. He’d be there right on time at eight-forty, she had no doubt. 

There was no time to turn into Star, which so far, was all he knew her as. They’d met when she was dressed up for a gig with the Galactic Chicks, all big hair, a full face of makeup, and flashy clothes. She'd made sure to look like nothing less in front of him since.

Not finding any inspiration for an outfit that would impress him, she groaned and headed back to the bathroom to wash her face and finish up in there, then heading to her vanity to do a quick swipe of color on her lips. There was no time for more makeup, let alone to tease or style her hair—all she could do was brush it and thank god that it was a good hair day.

Even so, as she paused to study her reflection, she felt any inkling of optimism leave her body. Her “Star” clothes wouldn’t match with her looking like this. She looked… well, she looked like Caitie. 

The buzz of the doorbell made her jump, and she rushed through the small apartment to look through the peephole—sure enough, Louis was standing there, cute as ever in his trench coat, a navy turtleneck peeking out from the collar. And… oh, god. Her heart fluttered—he was holding flowers. He bought her flowers, and she looked like… like… her.

He rang the bell again and she panicked. “Just a minute!” she called, hurrying back to her room and shedding her pajamas, putting on whatever looked warm and went together well enough—a thin white turtleneck under a chunky blue sweater, her favorite pair of jeans and a thick pair of socks. Still, when she ran back over to the door, she hesitated. 

Maybe she should feign sickness. Tell him she was contagious, that she was dreadfully ill and—

“Star?” His voice was a little muffled through the door. “You okay in there? I don’t mind waiting inside, if you’re still getting ready.”

“Um—No,” she decided, even though she was tempted to take him up on the offer. It was now or never—he had to see what was underneath the facade of Star at some point. “I’m ready. One sec.” She slipped into her boots and, taking a deep breath, put on a nervous smile and opened the door. “Hi. Sorry about that.”

God, he was cute. He was staring up at her with those sparkly blue eyes and a flush on his face from the cold. Holding the bouquet against his chest, he stepped forward with a smile and leaned up to kiss her cheek. His eyes trailed over her as he pulled away. “Gee, you look real pretty today.”

She couldn’t help flinching, as if the words were a slap. Not believing for a second he could mean it, the words came off as sarcasm despite how genuine his voice was. The band’s manager, Gwen, was constantly saying things like that to her, always making quips.

Caitie’d expected him to maybe not be as doting on their date, to probably stop calling her from then on. She never expected Louis to say something so… mean. “That…” She steadied her wavering voice, not sure if she was more angry or devastated. “That’s not funny, Louis.”

His brows furrowed as he lowered the flowers. “Well… why would it be?”

She paused, taking in the confused concern on his face, her emotions doing a one-eighty as she realized he might have actually been sincere. “You’re not being sarcastic?”

His eyes were like saucers behind his glasses. “No! I—Did I sound sarcastic? I didn't mean to! You look real beautiful today, honest.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat, though now she wanted to cry from relief. “Really?” She couldn't help smiling at his eager, earnest nodding, warmth blooming in her chest. “I, um, woke up late. So I didn't have time to like… become Star. Just me,” she laughed nervously, shrugging, “Just… Caitie.”

“Caitie,” he repeated the name with a fond smile, learning it. “I thought maybe Star wasn't your real name, but I didn't want to ask, on account of, well, y'know, maybe you'd be offended if it was. Oh!” He held out the pink and purple tulips. “These are for you. I don’t know what your favorite kind is, but, I… I thought you might like the color of these ones, ‘cause your hair.” His eyes went wide again and he retracted the flowers a bit. “Unless you're allergic! Gee, I should’ve asked—”

She couldn’t help laughing, their hands brushing as she took them gently from him. “I’m not. They’re beautiful, Louis, thank you. Let me just get them in some water before we leave, okay?” She motioned with her head, laughing a little more when he stayed in the doorway. “You can come in.”

“You’ve got a nice place,” he complimented as he looked over the space, following her to the little kitchen right by the door. “Good location, too, ‘cause you can get a place here cheaper than the buildings closer to the park, but it’s really not that far away. You’ve still got a great view,” he pointed out, walking around the counter to gesture to the windows overlooking Manhattan.

“I‘m pretty fond of it. Deanna did most of the decorating,” Caitie admitted, getting down a pale green vase from the top of the fridge and filling it with water as she continued, “She’s got a really good eye for that stuff. Makes sense for an art major, I guess.” She turned off the sink and looked up, freezing in place when she saw how he was staring at her. “What?”

Louis shrugged, smiling. “Nothin’ —you, just, uh… I guess, uh, I’m kinda surprised, is all. I mean, I  didn’t know I could find you any prettier than I already did. But now… now I do, so…”

She couldn’t fight a smile, knew she was blushing even as she leaned over the sink to cup his face and plant a kiss on his mouth. Never had she been so happy to have ignored her alarm.

#OOPSIES i'm late and posting this at almost midnight LOL #i need to practice writing louis more!! it's harder than I anticipated bc of his tendency to ramble klkjdsfdk #but i hope i captured it decently!! :') #drabblecember2023 #self shipping #self shipping community #self ship writing #caitiewrites #louistag

[bobmckenzie]

Let Me Help ⇢ selfshipvember day 3

word count: ~2000 (I swear this was supposed to be like 1k max idk how this happened LOL) blurb: Bob hurts himself getting a snack, and Caitie helps patch him up when she learns about his dizziness around blood. tw: blood/scar/general wound talk, (almost) fainting

Hockey just wasn’t the same without a snack, but the McKenzie house was low on anything good. The crackers Bob’d been eating were stale and boring, and needed something—he hated to leave his spot on the couch next to Caitie, but remembered there was a block of cheese in the fridge that might still be good and headed off to the kitchen to slice some, hoping he wouldn’t miss any goals.

He should’ve waited for a commercial break, since he was still trying to poke his head around the corner and catch a glimpse of the TV as he worked—Bob winced when the blade caught his thumb, a little groan of pain escaping him as the knife in his left hand clattered to the floor, gaze shooting to his other hand as he mentally scolded himself. He was preparing what was probably the world's simplest snack, and yet he’d managed to screw it up.

Beads of blood were already blooming on the wound, and Bob’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. He could handle pain well enough, but blood…

He tore his gaze away, turning to reach for the nearby roll of paper towels, but his vision was getting fuzzy, darkness looming around the edges. The roll slipped out of his grasp, knocking a mug into the sink, dishes clanging.

Doug called out sarcastically from the living room, though he sounded much farther away. “Who knew someone could be so loud getting cheese, eh?” 

In the other room, Caitie smiled but rolled her eyes at Doug’s remark and stood up from the couch to see what Bob was up to, or if maybe he needed some help. Truthfully, she was there more to hang out with him than to watch hockey—and maybe was hoping to stay late enough that he’d nod off and fall asleep on her shoulder like he had just last week.

She was so into the thought that she barely noticed as Doug said something about a commercial break and stood up to rush to the bathroom. But the hopeful little daydream she was having was cut short as soon as she stepped into the kitchen—Bob was leaning against the counter, white as paper as blood trailed down from his thumb to his palm. 

“Oh my god–!” She started heading to grab a chair from the little table by the window so he could sit, but saw him sway and rushed over to put her arms around him instead. She wasn’t strong enough to hold him up when his body was dead weight like this, but her support helped lead him down to the floor a little more gently.

“Bob?” She asked, eyes scanning from his injury to his face, which she quickly took in her hands, trying to get those glazed eyes to look at her. The cut didn’t seem too bad—she could tell the bleeding was slowing to a stop already. Everything else was worrying her far more, her heart pounding at the sight of him, and not for the usual reasons. “Doug!” she called, but got no response.

“‘Mm'okay…” Bob mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. He meant it, too—something about his arm slinged over her shoulder, and her hands on his face, was making everything come back into focus. “Jus’... gimmie a minute…”

“Can you look at me?” She was pretty sure that was one of the things you were supposed to ask in a situation like this. In her fainting spells in the past, anyway, once she closed her eyes it was usually lights out. “Maybe you should lie down.”

“No, really, I’m okay.” He blinked his eyes open, looking at her like she asked—hey, if he had to look anywhere, he liked this view most of all. And it wasn’t every day he had an excuse to be this close to her. “It’s just… bleedin’ makes me kinda…” He shrugged, heat crawling up his neck at the admission. “I never been good with it, s’all.”

She gave him a soft smile, glad to see some of his color returning. “I think it’s stopping, if that makes you feel any better. Let me help you get it clean and everything—Do you have a first-aid kit?”

He snorted a little, shrugging, trying to play it off like it was a silly question—the truth was with her looking at him all doe-eyed, holding him that gently, he just couldn’t think straight enough to be sure if there was one in the house or not. “I don’t think so, eh.”

She laughed a little, relieved to see him acting more and more like himself. “I have some band-aids in my bag—lemee grab a couple, and then I’ll clean it.” 

His smile faltered, brow furrowing a little, stomach twisting with guilt—she was being too nice to him, and he was ruining her night because he was a klutz who couldn’t handle the sight of blood. “Caitie, y’know, you don’t gotta do all that. I’ll be fine—”

“I’m getting the band-aids.” She took his face a little more firmly in her hands, looking at him pleadingly. “Don’t try to get up yet, okay? Please?” 

He was too tired to come up with some sort of quip, though he wished he could think of something to stop her from taking her hands off his face, to have her sit there with him just a little longer. “Okay.”

She gave him a gentle little pat on the cheek before picking his arm up off her shoulders and standing up, heading back to the living room. He kept his eyes trained on the table at the other end of the room, not wanting to risk another glance at his thumb. He didn’t want her to have to worry about him again if she came back and found him all woozy, or worse, out cold.

She was back in just a few seconds, two individually wrapped plasters in her hand. Hosehead trailed in behind her, pausing for a second to look at Bob before heading over to his foodbowl, clearly not too concerned.

“How’re you feeling now? Less faint?” Caitie asked as she tucked the bandages into her pocket, standing beside him to use the sink.

He squirmed a little at the questions, her voice so genuine and caring. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had fussed over him like this. He nodded, looking up to see her washing her hands. “Lots better, eh.”

“I’m not sure how to… Oh! I have an idea.” Reaching for one of the cabinets, she pulled out a bowl. The next thing he knew she was handing the pull-out faucet from the sink down to him. “Hold this for me?”

He took it, understanding dawning on him as she reached for the soap and finally sat next to him again, setting everything on the floor beside them—she didn’t want him standing yet, so she was bringing the sink to him to wash the cut. 

“Can I take your hand?” She met his eyes, continuing as he nodded, “It might sting a little.”

“‘S’okay.” If there was anyone he trusted to be gentle, it was her. For good reason, obviously—she took his hand softly in both of hers, her touch careful and slow. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, butterflies blooming in his stomach at the sensation. “Guess you must think I’m like, a total wuss now, eh?” he joked to distract himself from how tender she was being with him, how close she was, the softness of her skin and the fact that he could smell the scent of her perfume—she was wearing the one that always reminded him of apples.

She smiled, briefly meeting his eyes over the frames of her glasses before her attention returned to his hand. “I know you better than that.” She rolled up the sleeve of his flannel so it wasn’t in the way. “And lots of people get unsteady around blood.”

“S’usually just when it’s me who’s bleedin’,” he explained, feeling her gently spread soap over the wound. “I do okay when like, the other guys on the team get a nosebleed or somethin’. But when it’s me, and it happens out of the blue like that…” He shrugged, flushing again, wondering why he was even saying any of this when it sounded so lame. “I dunno. It started when I was a kid—Doug and I was fightin’ one day in the living room, and I ended up fallin’ on the coffee table. I had this big gash on my shoulder and had t’go get stitches, but Doug was still mad at me and kept tellin’ me all these lies on the ride to the hospital about how much blood there was, and that he could like, see my bones coming out—‘cause I couldn’t really see back there, y’know?”

“Sounds like Doug.” Her tone was light, though the story made her heart clench a little. She shook her head, understanding perfectly well why that might’ve messed with his head. “He’s lucky I don’t go and barricade him in the bathroom.”

Bob laughed, still not looking at his thumb even as she took the faucet from his other hand to rinse the soap off over the bowl. He kept his gaze on her face, finding distractions in the way she looked so focused, so careful. “He said he was sorry, so.” He shrugged a shoulder. “‘S’not his fault it freaked me out so bad. Or that I was too stupid to know he was lyin’.”

He was so forgiving, she thought, gently drying the wound with a paper towel. And way too hard on himself. “You were a kid.”

“Hmm.” Bob hummed noncommittally. He stayed quiet as she took out the band-aids and finished up, overlapping them in a crisscross that made them feel extra secure on his finger. Finally he looked down, wiggling his thumb a little, all traces of blood gone. “Good as new, eh? Thanks, Caitie.”  The word didn’t seem like enough, but was all he could think to say. If he tried to say something else, something more, he’d probably just make an even bigger hose of himself.

“No problem—it feels okay and everything?” When he nodded, she bumped her knee against his. “You never finished your story—was your shoulder okay?”

His face lit up, eyebrows raising. “See for yourself, eh,” he said, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his flannel so he could push the collar down far enough to show his shoulder. 

It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing at the sight of the exposed skin, the hair on his chest and a few little freckles on his upper arm she'd never gotten the chance to notice before. He turned so she could see the three inch scar right above his shoulder blade, raised and pale from time. 

“Looks like it hurt.” Her hand moved, wanting to touch, to run her fingertips over the skin, but she pulled it back before she could fall victim to the whim. “Did the stitches hurt? I’ve never had any.”

“Well…” He smiled as he adjusted his shirt back onto his shoulder, but it was a sheepish, embarrassed smile that almost looked more like a grimace. “I don’t really know. Turns out that sorta thing makes me pass out too. Thought maybe I grew out of that one, but…” He hesitated, but lifted a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead with an embarrassed chuckle, exposing the little scar at his hairline. “Got this one during a game two seasons ago and found out pretty fast that I didn’t. I was all stitched up ‘fore I even came to.”

“Well, you handle band-aids pretty well,” she joked.

He laughed, moving to stand. “C’mon. Let's go before we miss the whole game, eh.”

“Oh—” She stood up, quickly wrapping an arm around him. “Not too fast.”

“Caitie—” He was about to tell her it wasn’t necessary, that he wasn’t feeling lightheaded at all anymore—then wondered why on earth he’d do that when she was up against his side again, holding onto him and letting him rest his head against her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

He smiled up at her. “Thanks.”

#this prompt list has a lot of stuff that inspired me for fics so 👀 in my posting my writing era PERHAPSE... #anyways heres another installment of 'I LOVE WRITING BOB'S DIALECT/ACCENT/SPEECH PATTERNS' #kits selfshipvember #selfshipvember #self shipping #self ship community #caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut

[bobmckenzie]

cold weather -> drabblecember day 1

word count: 670

blurb: Bob using the cold weather as his 8735th excuse to cuddle up to Caitie

The outdoor ice rink was crowded, as it always was on winter evenings. Bob never minded much—he was a good enough skater from years of hockey that it was easy enough to move around clumsy kids or couples holding hands. Caitie, on the other hand, wasn’t so good yet. 

She’d gotten decent enough that she didn’t need to cling onto his arm, or even hold his hand anymore—much to his dismay—but she still wasn’t so good at stopping. After a sharp turn to avoid plowing straight into someone’s back, instead banging her knee on the boards around the rink, she told the group she was gonna buy some nachos and sit it off.

Everyone decided getting a bite to eat sounded pretty good, so they joined her in the walk to the concession stand, skates thudding against the rubber padding surrounding the rink. Pam and Rosie ordered slices of pizza, Doug got a hotdog, and Bob offered to split the cost of nachos with Caitie if they could share. The six of them headed over to two of the steel benches, tucking into their food and hot chocolates.

“Your knee okay?” Bob asked, reaching for a chip from the little paper food boat balancing on both their legs. So maybe the offer to share nachos was an excuse to sit close to her. Maybe he’d been craving fries, but not quite as much as he craved being near enough that he could smell her perfume.

“Probably more than my pride,” she joked with a smile.

“Everybody’s run into the boards before, eh.” He shrugged a shoulder, hoping to make her feel better. He shivered as a breeze blew by and burrowed a little further into his coat. Caitie’s cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and he had no doubt her fingertips were freezing in those fingerless gloves she was wearing.

He glanced over at Pam and Rosie, who were sitting on the bench across from theirs. They were snuggled up together, his arm around her shoulders, her body nestled right up against his side, both looking warm and content.

He gestured to them with a nod. “They’ve got the right idea, eh?” He played it off as a joke, an excuse for his next move: scooching even closer and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

She laughed, so it seemed to work. He supposed she was used to it by now—he was always finding excuses to touch, to be closer. 

“You’re chewing in my ear,” she complained, though her voice carried a smile.

“It’s too cold!” He feigned dramatics, pretending to shake from the low temperature. The leather of her jacket was cold against his skin, but he’d freeze before moving away. “I need, like, human warmth!”

She giggled, picking out another chip. “I don’t think you’re getting any, considering how many layers I have on.”

“I dunno—I feel warmer. Maybe you’re, like, shielding me from the wind, eh.” He nuzzled a little closer, nearly completely forgetting the pretense of this all being a funny, chaste joke. Surrounded by her sweet aroma, he spoke without thinking, “Plus you smell real good, eh.”

If he looked up, he would’ve seen a deep blush flourish on her face. Still, he could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Thanks.” She lifted a chip up to his mouth since his arms were no longer free. “Here. You paid for half, don’t let me eat all of ‘em.”

He opened up, eating the chip with a smile and speaking as he chewed, “See? Like, why would I move anyway if you’re gonna feed me, eh?”

“Don’t,” She laughed and relaxed against him, settling into his embrace. “It is warmer like this.”

He grinned dopily, hugging her just a bit tighter, letting himself pretend for a moment that he could cuddle up to her without an excuse. That they were a couple making PDA too, instead of just two friends goofing off. “Told ya so.”

#my brain is empty i cant think of anything to say LOL but im excited for these prompts!! hope to do more <3 #also someone come ship with douglass so his ass isnt freezing 😔 #drabblecember2023 #self shipping #self ship community #caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut #q

[bobmckenzie]

Up Late ⇢ selfshipvember day 4

word count: ~1400 blurb: tax season is always stressful for Louis, but his girlfriend Caitie can't stand to see him overworking himself.

Tax season was Louis' busiest time of year, and Caitie knew he'd have more of a workload than usual—she just hadn’t realized how much more. Dates had become non-existent, he’d forgotten his lunch on the counter twice this week, and he was turning in for the night later and later.

Gigs with the Galactic Chicks had gotten her used to staying up late, so Louis almost always fell asleep before her. But tonight, she'd been yawning for the past hour, flipping through channels on the little TV in his room and waiting for him to come to bed.

When the digital clock on his bedside table turned to 2:00am, she turned off the TV with a sigh and slinked out from under the covers. They'd been dating for six months now, and in all that time she'd never seen him up at this hour. He'd tried to wait up for her in the past when her shows ran extra late, but always ended up falling asleep—he just wasn't a night owl.

Her bare feet shuffled on the plush carpet of his bedroom until she stepped out into the living area, padding across the cool wooden floors to the dining table, where he’d set up to work after dinner—that was almost seven hours ago.

He was hunched over papers, one hand busy scrawling something onto a yellow notepad, the other punching numbers into his calculator. His hair, normally gelled down and styled just the way he liked it, was no longer abiding by the product, all fluffed up and messy. And he was mumbling to himself, talking through whatever it was he was doing—she never pretended to understand the technicalities of his work, and loved him for not minding that she didn't. 

Normally she found it relaxing to watch him work; he was always so organized, so methodical. The sight before her now was anything but relaxing—her boyfriend looked like the definition of stress.

"Louis?"

His head shot up, eyes meeting hers. There were dark circles beneath them, framed by his glasses, which were slightly askew. "Caitie—Gee, what're you doing up?" He checked his watch.

"Waiting for you," she replied with a gentle laugh.

He sighed, shaking his head, gaze going back to his work. "I'm sorry. I'll probably be up at least another hour—I should've told you not to wait. Get some sleep, okay?"

With a sigh, she walked over to him, standing by his side and running a hand over his hair. "You know, I don't spend the night here just because your bedding's nicer than mine."

He was looking more exhausted by the second, and now confused to top it off. “You—What?” He stared up at her, and she could see now that his eyes were bloodshot.

He was clearly too tired to even understand the joke. She maneuvered to sit on his lap, one hand on his shoulder, the other brushing back his hair. "I’m saying I was hoping to spend some time with you tonight. I miss you, Lou-Bear." The nickname was a weakness of his, she knew, and she wasn't above using it. "You've been working so hard all week."

He smiled at the petname, but gestured around her to the scattered paperwork. “I told you I’d be busy. You know, I—I understand when you’ve got a lot of practice sessions, when you’re busy getting ready for a big gig and everything.” 

"No, I know, it’s just…” She shrugged, heart sinking, gaze falling from his. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning, you know. One second you were here, the next thing I knew you were out the door."

His brow furrowed, but the memory seemed to click, his expression falling. "Oh, Caitie, I'm sorry—"

"No, no,” she shook her head, not meaning to make him feel guilty over it, “it's alright, I understand. Your mind is on your work right now, and I get that. I’ll survive without romance for a few weeks—but you can't survive staying up until three in the morning and getting up at seven.”

He put his hands on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze. “Listen, I promise things’ll go back to normal soon. I’ll take you out on a real nice date as soon as Tax Day’s behind us.”

“Louis.” She took his chin gently in her hand. He wasn't getting the point. “I can live without a morning kiss, and without dates, but I can't live with you overworking yourself like this."

"I'll… I'll be okay," he insisted. But with her holding him like this, the idea of getting all snuggled up in bed and finally getting some sleep was even more appealing than it had been an hour ago when he'd almost fallen asleep at the table daydreaming about it.

His whole body was aching from sitting and hunching over his work all day, his eyes were stinging and barely able to stay open, his thoughts were muddled… 

"Please come get some sleep,” she pleaded, pouting slightly. “For me?”

When she cupped his face in her hand, he knew he was a goner. He couldn't stop himself from resting against her palm, his eyes fluttering shut, mind emptying as the exhaustion he'd been ignoring crept in. 

"Things’ll be easier for you tomorrow if you get the extra hour of rest," she cooed softly, trying to lull him with her voice. "I already laid some pajamas out for you… and in the morning you can take a nice, long shower while I make you some breakfast…" She'd make sure it was a hearty one, too. He seemed to be running on granola bars and takeout lately. "How's that sound?"

Her other hand was playing in his hair again, slowly brushing through the strands, relaxing him beyond what he thought was possible during this time of year. His breathing was slowing, mind now thinking of cotton sheets, his warm comforter, and Caitie cuddled up against his side. 

"Well… That sounds… real nice."

"Come on," she whispered, standing slowly, not wanting to break the trance she had him in. Taking him by the hand, she guided him out of the stiff chair—if he tried to pull this type of thing tomorrow night, maybe she could lure him away from work with the offer of a massage, she thought. God knew he must’ve needed one.

She flicked off the overhead lights, leaving them only in the glow of the moonlight leaking in from between the curtains he'd forgotten to close and the dim stream of lamplight coming from his bedroom. He shuffled beside her all the way to his room, yawning as she shut the door behind them. His green pajamas were sitting folded on the still-made half of the bed, curtains drawn, gentle hum of the fan in the corner of the room only adding to his drowsiness. 

When she looked down at him, she almost laughed—his eyes were practically closed. He was falling asleep on his feet. "Why don't I take these…" She gently removed his glasses, stepping over to put them on the bedside table before reaching for his wrist. "And this," she said softly, fingers undoing his watch. 

"Mmhmm…"

She couldn't help smiling. "Lou, you're exhausted. Let's just lie down, okay?" She walked over to place his pajamas on top of the dresser, pulling the bedding back.

"I'm in my work clothes," he yawned the sentence, words slurred. "I'll get the sheets all dirty."

"I'm free all day tomorrow," she said, taking him by the hand to lead him to his side of the bed. "I'll wash them."

The smile he gave as he sat was dopey and filled with love. "Really?"

"Really," she answered softly, guiding him to lie down before tucking him in. "And then I'll bring you some lunch at the firehouse, okay?" 

She turned off the lamp and slipped into bed, where Louis instantly scooched closer to cuddle up. He slung an arm around her, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"Will you stay and eat with me? I miss you too," he murmured.

A smile grew on her face as she took off her glasses and set them beside his. Finally she snuggled against him, not caring that the zipper on his turtleneck was poking her shoulder, or that the hair brushing against her cheek was still a little stiff from styling product. "I'd like that."

It dawned on him that he'd forgotten a goodnight kiss, too. With all the energy he had left, he lifted his head to place a soft, brief peck to her mouth before nuzzling back against her shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too," she whispered, heart warm and happy as she closed her eyes.

#thank you guys sm for the nice tags on my last writing post omg 😭 i always get nervous to post writing and they fr made my day !! :'D #(the nickname loubear came to me bc of pooh bear LOL :') ) #kits selfshipvember #selfshipvember #self shipping #self ship community #caitiewrites #louistag

[bobmckenzie]

The Kiss-Thing

word count: 1173 blurb: Richie's been avoiding Caitie since she kissed him on the cheek, and she thinks she knows why. author's note: just wanna shoutout @lovesick-rambles who wrote the amazing commission that gave me the inspo for this follow-up piece!! 💙 thank you Natalie for helping me piece together the backstory of this ship lol 😆

Caitie stood in the cereal aisle, eyes mindlessly scanning over the plethora of granola options while her thoughts were far, far away from grocery shopping. 

For the past week, all she'd been able to think about was Richie. Richie, who the last time they'd seen each other, she'd kissed on the cheek in a rare moment of boldness.

Richie, who hadn't spoken to her since.

She should've known better than to think he was interested in her. He stopped by her job to find a cologne and ate lunch with her as a friend, nothing more. She'd read too much into it, got caught up in optimism thanks to her own silly little crush on him.

She just had to convince herself to make the first move, had to step out of her comfort zone and kiss him like that. He was just so… sweet. So cute. And god, she needed to stop thinking about him. As far as signals went, this one was crystal clear: he wasn't interested. And why should he be?

With a sigh, she picked out her usual bag of maple flavored oats and dropped it in her cart. The truth was, they hardly knew each other. Hell, that was probably half the reason she’d misread the situation, thought maybe he felt the same way, that all that shy awkwardness from the first time they'd met had been an indicator of something more than just… well, Richie being shy and awkward. 

It was fine—she'd get over it, she’d be mature and they would stay friends. But she couldn't deny there was a part of her heart that'd been hopeful.

Caitie started out of the aisle, turned her cart, and wheeled right into a clanging, head on collision with someone else's cart.

"I'm so sorry!" The words escaped her automatically before she even looked up—then her eyes met the ones she hadn't been able to get off her mind. "Richie—!" She wasn't sure what to say, especially not with him staring wide-eyed at her like he'd just run into the last person he wanted to see. "Um—Hi. Sorry."

The reality was that she was half right about him avoiding her. Richie's heart sank when they locked eyes, not because he didn't want to see her—God did he want to see her—but because he wasn't ready. He'd spent the last week trying and failing to be ready.

He shook his head after a few more awkward seconds, snapping out of his daze. "No!" The word came out too loud, too enthusiastic. "No," he tried again, "My fault. Hi."

"I didn't know you shop here. I mean, I've never seen you before." Her fingers fidgeted on the handle of her cart. 

"Only every now and then—they have a certain cereal Howie likes. My brother," he added.

She nodded, giving a small smile. "I remember. You mentioned him at the movies."

"Right!" He exclaimed a little too enthusiastically again, pointing at her as he trailed off, "Good memory. I… Yeah. Forgot about that." All he could really remember from that night was trying his hardest not to embarrass himself. That and the way her perfume smelled, the brush of her hand when he passed her the popcorn, and how his heart pounded every time she got close to him. Sitting next to her for the entire movie nearly killed him.

"I'm sorry," Caitie blurted, gaze dropping from his. "For, um, what I did at the mall. Kissing you, I mean."

And there it was. The regretful words, the rejection he'd unconsciously been avoiding. He wasn't putting off seeing her just because he didn't know how to ask her out. He'd been putting it off because deep down, he knew she'd probably written off the whole thing as a mistake right after it happened.

He forced himself to shrug. "Uh… That's… You don't have to apologize." He prepared himself for the speech: she hadn't meant to lead him on, it was just a friendly kiss. All the things he'd tried to convince himself she wouldn't say.

"I didn't mean to make things weird," she continued. "I think I just got the wrong message, you know, mistaking kindness for flirting. It's my fault."

"You—Huh?" He blinked, repeating the words in his head, trying to make sense of them. She couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like she meant.

"I know, it's stupid." She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess part of it was wishful thinking that you felt the same, or—" She grimaced, shaking her head, placing her palm against her forehead. "Sorry. Making it awkward again. It's just—we have mutual friends, and I don't want things to be weird. So they won't be, is what I'm trying to say. I'm fine with just being friends. We can just forget the kiss-thing ever happened, if you're not upset."

"Upset? You think—" He had to let out a laugh, but immediately felt guilty for the obvious confusion on her face. "I was not upset by the kiss-thing. I was very much a fan of the kiss-thing." 

"You…” Her furrowed brow softened, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really?" 

"I know I kind of disappeared, I just…" He flushed at the embarrassing truth. "I’ve been wanting to ask you out, but… didn't really know how. Then I sorta psyched myself out. Thought you'd turn me down."

She shook her head, smiling softly. "I wouldn't." 

"Well, in that case…" He looked up at her with a sly, playful smirk, though his body was swaying side-to-side with restless nerves. "I know you got an invite to Gus' barbecue, so… What if we went together? As a date?"

She couldn’t hold back a grin as she nodded, cheeks flushing with color. “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” He held her gaze for a few seconds, realized he was staring, and cleared his throat as he turned to gauge the check-out lines, attempting to look nonchalant, as if this wasn’t the first time anyone had agreed to go on a date with him. “I’ve got practice with the guys in an hour, so I should get out of here. But I’ll see you Saturday?”

“I’ll be there.” She gave him one last smile before wheeling her cart past him—but when she got close he couldn’t help thinking of the last time they’d parted ways, and couldn’t resist placing a hand on her shoulder, stopping her just long enough for him to lean up and plant a quick peck on her cheek.

It all happened fast enough for him to not overthink it, until he backed up and saw her flushed face and smile of surprise. Then his head seemed to catch up with his body, and all the suave confidence he could muster evaporated into thin air.

“Um—” he squeaked out, pointing to the registers at the other end of the store with a nervous laugh. “Okay. See you. Bye.”

She watched him wheel his cart away, face warm as she bit back a laugh. Apparently, she hadn’t misread his awkwardness after all.

#sry if there's mistakes or weird wording LOL this was just a quick drabble 🤪 #self ship writing #self ship community #caitiewrites #richietag

[bobmckenzie]

Almost Midnight

word count: 1514

blurb: Danny takes the New Years opportunity to give Caitie a first-kiss do-over

tw: mention of non-consensual/unwanted kiss

Danny steps outside, leaving the door to the porch open a crack and the sounds of the party behind. Finally, he thinks with a smile and a sigh, gaze landing on the brunette leaning against the railing. The past fifteen minutes he'd been weaving through his brother's crowded house looking for Cait, getting pulled into small talk about the new year and the football team's upcoming game when all he really wanted was to find her.

"There you are," he says, approaching as she turns to him, her lips curving into a smile.

"Hi." She rubs the arms of her jacket, breath coming out in a puff of white smoke. "Is it almost midnight?"

He nods. "A few minutes. You okay? Becky and I were wondering where you went."

She waves a hand. "I'm fine, yeah. Just needed some air. We should go in if you want to see the ball drop."

He shrugs and meets her at the railing. "I kind of needed some air myself, actually. I, uh… think Becky's about to have her first kiss."

Caitie's eyes widen. "Really? With Junior?"

Danny nods. "He's a good kid. But if I don't stay out here," he laughs, "I'll find some way inside to stop it from happening, probably end up embarrassing Becky and making an idiot out of myself."

She gives him one of those soft smiles that always make him feel like he's just said exactly the right thing. "You're a great dad, Danny." She lets out a short laugh, looking away. "I know I say that a lot, but it's true."

And yet the compliment never fails to give him a surge of confidence and a flushed face. "Well, I know how important this is. She'll remember it for the rest of her life, and I'd rather it be a positive memory than one I have to beg for forgiveness over."

"Do you remember yours?"

"Hmm? Oh—" He laughs, nodding as he realizes what she means. "I was in third grade. A few of the girls were playing truth or dare, and one of 'em got dared to come over and kiss me. It wasn't great for my self-esteem, I can tell you that much. What about you?"

"It…" She shakes her head. "Yeah. I mean, it happened two months ago, so..." At his look of confusion, she continues, "It was just one of the guys who picked me up when I was hitching—a few days before I ended up here, actually. Some truck driver. He sort of… Well, he really just leaned over, grabbed me by the face, and slobbered all over me for a few seconds before I managed to push him off and get out of there." She laughs, shrugging, smile faltering when she notices he can't force himself to find anything amusing in the story.

"Were you alright?"

The genuine concern sends a pang of longing through her. What must it be like to have a man like Danny always by your side, with so much care in every action, so much tenderness in his words and in his eyes? She can imagine no safer feeling, and absolutely nothing she'd ever wanted more.

"I was fine," is all she can manage to say, too distracted by his proximity and the realization that they're talking about kisses. Her first one was something she'd been dreaming of her whole life, and now it'd been taken away by someone who thought she owed him it for helping her get from one state to the next.

These days when she thought of kisses, it was only Danny who came to mind. Daydreams of sleepy kisses in the morning, quick afternoon pecks while cooking dinner. Celebratory smooches after Becky's team won a game, and long, slow kisses once they were alone in the night. She tries so hard not to think about things like that, tries not to make being around him so difficult for herself. But every day she falls deeper in love with the man before her, and the daydreams come whether she wants them to or not.

Danny shakes his head. God, he hates thinking about what she went through on the road. He'll never let her back out there—maybe it's a pigheaded way of thinking, but he can't help it. If she still wants to go to Montana, he'll take her there, but he won't let her put herself in that kind of danger again.

Not as long as he can help it, anyway, he thinks with a painful stab to the heart. If she leaves, there's no way to look out for her. No way to know she's alright.

He wants her to stay so badly… the possibility of her leaving constantly looms overhead, hurts him so much he's not sure how he'd ever handle the real thing. The idea of a future with her won't leave him alone. What would she think if she knew how much he wants her? How he can picture rings, a wedding… waking up to her every morning. Building a life where Becky has a mother who loves her and he has a wife to come home to every day. A family of three instead of two.

She's already said she likes Urbania. That Montana was just a dart on a map. That the two of them make a good team. But could she ever see him the way he sees her? Beautiful, comforting… a person who feels like home and the drop of a roller-coaster all at the same time.

"That's hardly a fair way to have a first kiss," he replies, voice gentle, though it's hard to hide the hatred for the man he'll never know. "It doesn't count."

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. "It may as well." Behind them, the sounds of the ten second countdown travel outside through the cracked door. "It's probably the only one I'm ever going to get."

Seven, six…

He doesn't understand how she can be so insecure, so unaware of the beauty that floors him every day. It isn't fair for her to think that way, isn't right for her to live thinking the only man who'd want to kiss her was some asshole who thought he earned it.

Five, four…

He inches closer, gaze traversing over her face, and her heart skips a beat. She thinks she imagined it at first—then he steps forward again and she knows she didn't. Her breath catches.

Three, two…

Slowly, giving her all the time in the world to back away, he reaches a hand up to cup her face. His hand feels so warm against her cheek, skin rough and calloused from work, yet his touch is so gentle.

One…

He angles up, slightly onto his toes, close enough to brush noses. When his thumb strokes her cheek her eyes flutter shut, lips parting ever so slightly.

Happy new year!

He closes the gap with a sigh, just barely pressing his lips against hers, the ghost of a touch. As cheers incite from inside the house he steps a little closer, kisses just a little firmer. It's innocent, polite even, a kiss that could easily be brushed off as nothing more than friendly. And yet it has his heart pounding, has her blood running hot.

This is the way her first kiss should be, he thinks. Gentle. Slow. Just as delicate and precious as she is.

It's everything she dreamed of, has her stomach flipping, butterflies swarming inside her, fists balling at her sides so she doesn't reach out and lace her fingers in his hair or grab a fistful of his sweater.

He forces himself to pull back, to not get carried away, to not take it somewhere he can't come back from.

It takes a second for her to open her eyes, dark brown meeting dark blue, a second of silence passing between them, the sounds of the party long forgotten.

A firework boom in the distance makes her gasp, both flinching away, heads turning just in time to see the gold sparks go off in the distance, quickly followed by blue and green. Then the French doors squeak open and draw their attention back to the house, where a few members of the football team come bounding out, raving about the fireworks they're sure they just heard.

As more guests pour out of the house the porch changes from a bubble of solitude into a crowded extension of the party, surrounding the pair with loud laughter and clinking glasses, music seeping out from the open doors.

There's no time to talk about it, no time to let it sink in and wonder what it means. Each thinks it was just a friendly kiss to the other, and each wishes it was so much more.

"Happy New Year," Danny says to her with a soft smile, just barely loud enough to be heard over the oohs and ahhs of the crowd as they watch the fireworks.

"Happy New Year," she returns breathlessly, wondering if he knows he just made it the best night of her life.

#Im nervous bc i almost never post writing on here aksjksksks but considering this was already a scene i was planning for the fic #im writing for danny i figured why not 🤪 #caitiewrites #urbaenia

[bobmckenzie]

🫂 for Bob!

🫂comforting hugs tysm for the prompt Jess!! I couldn't resist writing some pre-relationship pining for this one :')

The night is quiet as Bob and Caitie lean against the van, watching the traffic-barren street. Crickets fill the silence, as does the murmur of the neon marquee at the gas station they're parked in front of. Doug's inside buying a carton of smokes—and probably roaming the snack aisles.

"You okay today?" Bob's voice draws Caitie from her thoughts. Normally in a situation like this— the two of them alone, shoulder to shoulder—her mind wouldn't be able to focus on anything but her best friend.

Today was just… a lot. Too much. And of course, the fact that he noticed her downtrodden demeanor in the fifteen minutes since the brothers had picked her up makes her equal parts enamored and embarrassed. 

She raises a shoulder, nods unconvincingly. "Yeah."

"I's just asking, 'cause like… You seem kinda sad, eh? Like, you didn't even sing along to Subdivisions."

She has to crack a smile at that. "Maybe I'm just tired of hearing my own voice."

He gives her a look that's half amusement, half cut-the-crap. "You can tell me, y'know. I'm not…" He shrugs, and lets out a quiet breath of a laugh after a second of thought. "I'm not like Doug, eh. He's got the emotional range of like, a hockey puck." 

She laughs for the first time all day, and feels just a little bit lighter as she shakes her head. "I'm fine, really. I mean… Things are just…” She purses her lips, not sure how to say it, skin crawling at the idea of sharing her burdens. “You know. Not... great." 

Even the small admission makes her feel like she's on display, and though Bob is her favorite person to talk to—maybe because he’s her favorite—the last thing she wants is to let all those bottled up feelings escape in front of him.

She pushes off the van, standing up straight though she hates to leave Bob's proximity. "I think I'm gonna buy a candy bar or something. You want anything?"

He doesn't answer—instead, he steps forward, places a hand on her shoulder to tug her close and capture her in a tight hug. Her eyes go wide, heart skipping as his arms wrap around her torso. His worn-out flannel smells like laundry soap, and the hair that tickles her cheek is just as soft as it always looks.

It isn't the first time they've hugged; Bob is a touchy guy. He likes hugs goodbye, hugs hello, and anything in-between. No matter the occasion, it always makes her breath hitch. But knowing that this time he's doing it for her, trying to make her feel better…

Her eyes sting from the tears that want to form. She wraps her arms around him, gives him a squeeze that she hopes says all the things she isn't sure how to. "Thanks," she manages, voice hardly more than a whisper.

He pulls away with a soft smile. "Come on." He nods towards the store. "I'll buy us, like, twenty candy bars, and we can just watch movies all night 'till we pass out. Sound okay?"

She smiles as they head towards the gas station, and can't help putting her arm around his shoulders to give him another half-hug and a squeeze of pure gratitude. "Sounds perfect."

#caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut #ask

[bobmckenzie]

✊🏽 ! 💕💕

✊🏽💕 protecting + kisses

hi Kit! thanks so much for the prompt! :D I hope what I wrote technically falls under "protecting" lol, I couldn't get this idea off my mind!

"Who you waving to, McKenzie? That your girlfriend up there?” Parsons glanced at where Caitie was sitting in the stands of the hockey rink and scrunched his nose up in a grimace. “Woof."

It was typical hockey trash talk. Bob knew it was goading—it was almost the end of the last quarter and Vinny Parsons wasn't above stooping low to try to break a tie.

Knowing that didn't stop Bob from lunging at Parsons, swinging a gloved fist and taking a punch in return before teammates from both sides skated over to join the squabble. Refs quickly had them apart, had Bob sitting in the penalty box with a bleeding cut above his eye for the rest of the game—which thankfully, the Flesheaters won.

He tells Doug all about it in the locker room as they get changed and stuff their gear into their lockers and equipment bags. When the brothers come out, Caitie’s already waiting for them, leaning against the wall. Her eyes go wide as soon as they meet Bob’s.

“Oh, God.” She rushes over, pushes back his messy post-shower hair with her hand to get a better look at the cut. It’s stopped bleeding, but still looks red and angry against his skin. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

The concern makes him flush, fills him with gratitude. He laughs a little, takes her hand in his and goes on his tiptoes to place a quick kiss on her lips. “I’m fine, eh,” he says as the three of them start towards the exit. 

“What happened?” she asks, amusement joining the worry in her voice. “I mean, one second you were waving at me, I blinked, and you were swinging at him.”

“It was just…” Bob raises a shoulder, adjusting his equipment bag. The last thing he’s about to do is tell her what Parson’s said—it’d only hurt her feelings. “Just Parsons bein’ a tweezot. Sayin’ I can’t skate.”

“Oh, take off,” Doug interjects. Bob shoots him a shut up look, but he just rolls his eyes. “He was stickin’ up for you, eh.”

Caitie stops walking, but keeps her hold on his hand. As the guys stop too, her eyes look between them, searching for the truth. “What?”

Bob sighs. “He… He said somethin’ real stupid about you—he was just tryin’ to get me worked up.”

Doug snorts. “I’d say he did, like, a pretty good job.”

“Take off.”

“You fought him… for me?” Caitie’s voice is softer now, less amused. He prays she won't ask for specifics.

He nods, looking up at her with apologetic eyes. “Sorry for lyin’. Just didn’t want you to be bothered with it, you know?”

Slowly, she breaks into a smile, cups his face with her free hand and pulls him into a soft kiss. “My hero,” she murmurs against his lips before kissing him again.

Doug makes a noise of disgust. “Get a room, eh.”

She pulls away to shoot him a look, and wraps her arm around Bob’s shoulders as they continue down the hall to the double doors. With Doug's back to them, she leans over to plant a feather-light kiss next to Bob’s cut.

He smiles, looking up at her with all the affection in the world. “Thanks, Doc. Feels better already.”

#caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut #ask

[bobmckenzie]

I may be basic but I saw 1. Accidental hand touching and immediately ran to your ask box

NOT BASIC!!! that is one of my favorite prompts on the list aksljdklajsd thank you sm for sending one in 🥹 I'm sure it's a surprise to nobody that I decided to write for Bob :3c

Bob balanced the large popcorn on his lap as he settled more comfortably into the cushy movie theater seat between Doug’s and Caitie’s. By now he was used to the way Doug always made sure he and Caitie ended up next to each other—his brother wasn’t the most subtle wingman, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for the extra help. 

He glanced over to see Caitie watching the teasers playing on the large screen as a few more people filtered into the dim theater, taking seats closer to the front. The movie they were there for was some gory horror thing that Doug had been pestering him about since the first trailer came out. Bob didn’t want to see it, but when Caitie shrugged and agreed to go with them… well, he’d had a sudden change of heart. 

At least he had gotten Doug to pay for his snacks: a blue slushie and a bucket of popcorn for him and Caitie to share. He reached for some of the buttery snack while he still could, knowing he might not have much of an appetite once the movie started.

He could only watch in amused wonder as Caitie’s hand moved to hover over the bucket, lowering and meeting his own hand instead of the food beneath it. The contact hardly lasted a second, and yet had butterflies swarming his stomach and his breath hitching. 

She flinched and looked over, drawing her hand back with a quiet laugh. “Sorry.”

“Tryin’ to hold my hand?” he teased. “What, ‘re you scared of the trailers?”

Amusement coated her voice as she whispered back, “I’m trying to get some popcorn.”

“I knew you was gonna get scared,” he murmured with a playful smile, keeping his voice low. “I just thought you might wait ‘till like, the movie started.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile grew as she let out a hushed, “Take off.”

As it turned out, Bob didn’t need to worry about not liking the movie—he kept his hand draped over the rim of the popcorn bucket the whole time, so each time Caitie reached for a handful, her skin brushed against his. He was far too distracted to absorb anything that was happening onscreen.

#THANK YOU AGAIN!! #caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut #ask

[bobmckenzie]

Hi Caitie!! I hope you've been well! I feel like it's been forever since we last talked!!! ♡

For the emoji drabble, how about 💕? :))

♡ @eternally-smitten

💕- kisses @eternally-smitten ahhh hi Natalie!! I've been pretty good, just taking it easy this past week :P I hope you've been doing good too! :D and thanks so much for the prompt, idk why it took me SO long to come up with an idea for this one lol! 😅

The smell of pizza wafts through the O'Shea household as Becky and her teammates sit around the living room, settling in to watch the football game.

Their excited voices carry into the kitchen where Danny and Caitie are grabbing stacks of plates, cups, and napkins for the kids. Afternoon sunlight streams in from the window above the sink, painting Danny in a warm wash of gold as he closes the cabinet door.

Caitie smiles, taking in the sight, and can't stop herself from stepping over and placing a kiss on his cheek.

He grins, setting down his stack of plates on the table and turning to her. "What's that for?"

She blushes, raising a shoulder. "Just 'cause."

"I like that reason." He takes the cups from her and sets them down too so he can wrap his arms around her midsection. "Mind if I borrow it?"

He leans up to kiss her on the mouth, pulling back to mumble, “How’s that just ‘cause?” with a little smile. She moves to kiss him again, but Becky’s voice has them flinching apart in surprise.

"Guys," Becky whines as she enters the kitchen, gesturing impatiently to the forgotten plates and cups. "Can't you try not to be gross while the team's here? One of the guys might see you."

Danny laughs, letting go of Cait. "I think they'd live, Becky."

"Sorry, Beck," Caitie apologizes with a smile, reaching for the cups again.

"We're not gross, by the way," Danny teases. "Your cousin Debbie called us cute yesterday, you know."

Becky rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Debbie finds a lot of nauseating stuff cute."

The couple laughs as she strolls back out of the room, and Danny picks up the plates and napkins. 

"One more for the road," he says, pecking Caitie on the lips again and pulling back with a smile. "Just to hold us over while we try not to embarrass her too much.”

#caitiewrites #urbaenia #ask

[bobmckenzie]

the kiss prompts for Louis! :D

<3 @eternally-smitten

ahh thank you for playing!! :D

7: Accidental

Louis took another sip of coffee, latching his briefcase as he prepared to head out for work. Outside the sun was rising over the city, frost and fog decorating the windows of his apartment.

He hadn't slept well--nowadays he was used to having Caitie by his side, but she'd insisted on sleeping in the extra bedroom last night, worried about him catching the fever she'd come down with. He'd tossed and turned in the empty bed, worrying about her condition.

She wouldn't want him to come in and check on her, too worried about spreading germs to want him close by. But if she was asleep, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He'd go in and feel her forehead to gauge if the fever had broken overnight and make sure she was all tucked in with plenty of water in reach.

Just as he started for the bedroom, the door eased open and Cait walked out, pausing at the sight of him. "You're still here?" She leaned against the door frame, managing a soft smile as he came over. "Not too close, Louis."

He obliged, stopping a ways from the door. "I overslept. How're you feeling? Any better?"

She shrugged. "The same, pretty much. Achy, groggy, and I've still got the chills."

"I should stay," he insisted, setting down his briefcase. "And you shouldn't be out of bed."

"You don't need to stay." Though the offer was incredibly endearing, it was nearing tax season and he'd been even busier than usual at work. "I'll be just fine. I promise I'll get right back in bed after I have some breakfast."

"I'll make it," he offered.

She laughed, shaking her head. "Louis. You're late. I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" At her insistent nods, he finally acquiesced, picking up his bag with a sigh. "Well, okay. But I'll come by at lunch. There's medicine in the bathroom, but you know that already. And there's some vitamin water in the fridge--you should drink a lot of that. Keep hydrated, you know? Get your electrolytes."

"I will." The urge to lean down and kiss him goodbye was ridiculously tempting, but she forced herself to stay put. How had she gotten lucky enough to have him care so much about her?

"Okay, sweetie. I'll see you in a few hours." He didn't even think about it as he stepped forward, reached up and planted a kiss on her lips--it was the same thing he did every morning before leaving for work.

"Mm!" Her eyes went wide, and he stepped back at the muffled protest to find her flushed and laughing. "Louis!"

"Wh--Oh!" He placed a hand on his forehead in embarrassed disbelief. "Right. I wasn't thinking. Force of habit, I guess."

She shook her head, but her grin gave away her amusement. "I hope you don't catch it."

"Well, you know me. I'm as healthy as a horse," he boasted with a shrug. "Plus, at least we'd be able to sleep in the same bed again."

As she reached out to fix a loose strand of hair, she had to admit he might just have a point.

#thank you so much natalie!! #this took me so long to get out bc i actually got sick irl 💀 but hey at least it gave me some inspo lol! #ask #caitiewrites #louistag

[bobmckenzie]

✧･ﾟ * caitie | she/her | 25 hiiii and welcome to my silly little self shipping blog! you can find my f/o list and more about me on my carrd!

my art, writing, posts and edits: #caitiearts + #caitiewrites + #caitiechat + #caitiedits | tag directory

— pinterest | letterboxd | spotify

#self shipping community #self shipping #self ship promo #caitiechat

[bobmckenzie]

✧･ﾟ * Hi! I'm Caitie [she/her | 24] and this is my self shipping blog! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

You can find my f/o list and more about me on my carrd!

my art, writing, posts and edits: #caitiearts + #caitiewrites + #caitiechat + #caitiedits

#new pinned post! needed an upgrade lol #also redid my carrd and working on my desktop theme :P #self ship community #self shipping community #self shipping #fictional other community #fictional other #self ship promo #caitiechat