F e e l i n g s, man

Jarrett Jefferson. Indie Fandomless OC. Selective. Private. Mun/Muse 21+. Please read rules before interacting.

[allofthe-memes-blog]

Texts from Last Night inspired text starters [nsfw and sfw]

[amorresurgens-deactivated201811]

[text]: I’m doing this for my boobs. They miss him.

[text]: I AM SUCH A BETTER PERSON ON DRUGS

[text]: We’re bowling witha frozen turkey in the hallway…ur missing out

[text]: I’m sitting on our balcony drunk. And in my underwear. Our relationship with our neighbors may improve.

[text]: two words: fractured penis. two more: emergency room.

[text]: I feel like captain Morgan put his peg leg up my ass

[text]: Because i love you. And people show love by not letting their friends shit themselves.

[text]: According to google history I spent most of last night trying to buy an elephant.

[text]: You were yelling at the cops across the street saying they were at the wrong party

[text]: I’m going to CVS to meet the Craigslist guy who is going to buy my underwear. If I don’t text you within the next hour, plz assume that I have been abducted by a stranger with an underwear fetish.

[text]: What’s Spanish for “I shouldn’t have worn these underwear to work?”

[text]: Also if i get drunk and start crying about the elephants you all have my permission to abandon me.

[text]: YOU IS KIND. YOU IS SMART. YOU IS IMPORTANT. YOU IS CLEANING YOUR OWN VOMIT.

[text]: Hey, it’s not my fault that you had a shitty bed frame that couldn’t handle the rough sex you’re into.

[text]: I have a tab of a google image search of onion rings open and it is making me so happy.

[text]: I just wrote the Drag Queen from Saturday Night on FB and apologized for licking her. Weirdest thing I have ever typed…

[text]: You couldn’t even walk but you came into the kitchen with the funnel and begged me to put beer in it

[text]: I genuinely attribute some of my blowjob skills to playing saxophone in highschool

[text]: I still don’t know his name but his ass is spectacular. Like he should never wear pants.

[text]: Woke up with an e-cig stuck in my asshole. Explain.

[text]: A surplus of mistakes were made and I don’t know what 89% of them were.

[text]: OK BUT WHO THE FUCK FORGTS A LIVE CHICKEN IN MY HOUSE

[text]: Come over. Bring cocaine. And my t shirt with the dolphin on it.

[text]: Your drunk naked friend is roaming the living room. Started roaming my room. Please come retrieve him

[text]: I do feel like I owe you an apology for trying to fuck your dad last night but in my defense everyone knows I shouldn’t drink tequila.

[text]: I want my tombstone to read “making poor life decisions since 1993”

[text]: Called Apple, my penis pics are safe.

[text]: I just bought a bottle of lube for my car.

[text]: Kid got so high from the brownies he forgot his own name. Welcome to college.

[text]: I just remember lots of butts and something about ranch dressing.

[text]: When you licked the fourth stranger’s cheek the bar tender pretty much ordered us to get you out.

[text]: Drinking from the bottle. In bed. Making dinosaur noises. Oh man.

[text]: i mean hes a break dancing puerto rican, how do you think the sex was?

[text]: That tampon felt like a stick in my vagina, I am never making a drunken tampon choice again. Friends don’t let friends choose tampons drunk.

[text]: I thought I would be a proper lady and put my spare panties in a ziplock

[text]: I have a terrible feeling that I made out with a fraternity last night

[text]: Wall of shame with a backpack full of beer bottles, cowboy hat in hand, and a handlebar mustache. I was applauded by a passing car

[text]: I know the wedding is going to be a good time, I don’t have to wear a bra with my dress

[text]: Can you get snapchat back so I can show you all the places I threw up in/on last night?

[text]: Woke up eating a pickle on the bathroom floor this morning in some random guys sweat pants.

[text]: I know you saw me get knocked out after I stepped on that rake why did you leave me there

[text]: She definitely peed in a bucket in their closet last night. We should warn them about that, right?

[text]: We fired a shoe out of a medieval cannon. I know not where we got either one.

[text]: So my booty call knows your bf. Apparently they were in jail together

[text]: That’s a lot of judgement coming from a man wearing a dress made from a bedsheet.

[text]: I fell into a manhole last night, so there’s that

[text]: Well.. If you trust a test that only costs a dollar, I’m not pregnant

[text]: Woke up in bushes at UT didn’t know I was Austin last night

[text]: I wouldn’t know what to do. You never really mentally prepare for a cactus getting thrown at your face.

[text]: Turns out the dorm toilet can’t take a punch. Gonna be a long year without Mexican food.

[text]: I have an interview tomorrow and listed you as a reference. If they call you, please don’t tell them about the time I smuggled a Chalupa out of Taco Bell in my underwear.

[text]: How do you get kicked out of 3 different Subways in one night..

[text]: Mom told me you snuck booze into a concert in a cheez its box…I have never been prouder to be related to you

[text]: I straight up told your dad I’ve slept with a majority of your family

[text]: You kept whispering to me that the guy making your burrito was an angel.

[empathickally]

Kisses!!! Straight up sits on his lap and gets his smooch on!!

He’d just been sitting there, watching TV, when suddenly he sees Bowie bolt off the couch. Jarrett doesn’t have much of a chance to even say much of anything before Rufus is on his lap, kissing him. “Whahe--?!” Surprised giggling comes out even as his hands wrap around the other man’s waist and he responds to the kisses, thumbs looping into the belt loops at the back of Rufus’ pants. Surprises like this were why he loved him. 

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

Rufus did his best not to be possessive; it was an ugly personality trait that reared up from time to time and he had to battle his common sense against instinct. Sometimes he was a mess. He wasn’t the sort that got upset when someone smiled at Jarrett or even flirted with him but smells? Oh. Smells were a big deal. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they smelled. Where they’d been. Who’d they’d been with. What they’d eaten. If they were in good health. Rufus’ nose was constantly picking up information but sometimes what he found made him cranky or worried. In Jarrett’s case, he just liked it better when the other man smelled more like him than anyone else. Certainly more than Old Spice. He does his best to help with Jarrett’s leg and he’s gotten better at not looking totally heartbroken every time he’s reminded about his lover’s pain. It used to cause a great well of sadness — thinking about the loss of a limb, the way it must feel — but Jarrett took the whole thing in stride and seemed used to the change.  It was okay, Rufus reminded himself.

Mention of the park has his mood immediately lifting, body straightening up as brows raise at Jarrett’s suggestion. Oh. Rufus loved the park. The smells, the trees, the people. “Really?” There’s no hiding his excitement as he starts to do a small circle around the blond, beaming and full of energy. “For how long?”

His parents were wonderful people, but they were always distant, afraid to get close because they didn't think he could handle their emotions, even after he learned how. So to have someone feel possessive about him, to make sure the whole world, including those who could smell things mere mortals couldn't, was a hell of a rush. That was why he had no problem with it, why he'd even come to love how nuzzly his boyfriend was. He'd been with a few guys before who were fine with cuddling, but he'd never been nuzzled before. Jarrett loved it. 

The protective sleeve rolls on his stump, and then it's just a matter of sliding it in and locking the mechanism to keep his leg in place, when he's done, he stands up and grabs Rufus when he sees those big, sad, eyes, "Don't you go givin' me puppy dog eyes, Ruf, it ain't that bad, really. I promise. You want me to tell you about it? Figure it’s about time for that. I don’t mind.." Sure, he'd much rather have both his own legs back, but it'd been long enough, he'd made his peace with his new normal. 

He laughs, turning around until their circles landed them face to face, "Maybe an hour? I don't have to go t'work until later today, figured we could spend some time throwin' a ball around or somethin', maybe even jump in the lake if it's open." He'd have to bring his swim fin, but he was definitely not opposed to it. Jarrett can't help himself, leaning in to give him a kiss. It's when they're close like this that all he can smell is Rufus, and he understands why it's necessary for that to be all anyone can smell. It was a good scent, and it was one Jarrett wasnted to smell every day for the rest of his life. He's lost in the wafting and his happiness increases, which to someone with senses like Rufus might make him look like he was literally glowing dimly. "M'sorry I've had so many shifts lately, yeah? We're down an officer, gunshot wound, so it's hard to cover for him, stretches us a bit thin."

[monsterbaiit-deactivated2019113]

@empathickally // continued. ]]

As it turns out? Jarrett is another one of those people he just can’t help but check in on. Eli lived out of his van. Came and went as he pleased. Sometimes he would disappear for months at a time but eventually — oh, eventually he blew back into town as if nothing had changed. Well. One thing doesn’t. Eli. Eli, himself, is stuck outside of time and the result has done a number on his emotions. On the surface — he’s calm. Cool. Eli’s head is on straight and he’s always calculating. Always watching. A hunter, by personality alone. But then there’s Jarrett — Jarrett, with his little sixth sense. An ability that let him see through the doors that Eli had so patiently built and put into place without the need for a key. Eli’s wary of him since they first met, always keeping the blond at an arm’s length as if it might help. It doesn’t. Jarrett knows. Eli knows that Jarrett knows. The problem? Elijah Slade is a walking mess of a lifetime of loneliness crammed into something that shouldn’t function. There’s a hole in him roughly the size of the goddamn moon — gaping, heavy, and dark. It wasn’t a place he wanted Jarrett spelunking.

“Maybe I’m asking you to ignore things, then.” It was a start, maybe.

[empathickally]

He'd learned how to ignore almost everyone's emotions by this point. The walls he'd learned to build up over himself were stronger and something more than the average human could build, they were more like physical wards to keep everything out, but he was able, with effort, to look past them, read someone, or even amplify or decrease a specific emotion, should the need arise. Jarrett never did that without consent, not unless the other person was full-on hysterical or in a berserker-style rage. 

But Eli felt different.

Ever since they'd met, he could feel this sort of hole, this emptiness that almost felt like it was trying to pull him in, too. He didn't know what it meant, didn't know why Eli's emotions felt like that, but he'd never pried. Whatever had caused that was big, not something to bring up casually in conversation, and not something to bring up so early into their friendship — or whatever this was. 

"Right. I've been doin' that. Just, ah. I dunno, maybe go talk t'someone? M'not pryin', not trying to get you t'say anything or explain it, and I ain't been pryin', but there's this...like, vacuum power about ya, to me at least. Maybe it's something you should ...try to fix or somethin? M'sorry, I don't mean t'overstep or nothin'." 

Jarrett regretted speaking, but he just wanted Eli to feel...better somehow. Whatever he felt on the surface must’ve been so much deeper below, so much pain. No one deserved that. 

[empathickally]

" don't do that. don't read me or whatever it is you do. "

Jarrett balked a little. “Y’know I can’t just turn it off, right?” He could pay attention and actively dig deeper, but even with his barriers, he could still feel basic emotions off everyone he was anywhere near. “I can ignore it all right, but I just wanna make sure y’understand I can’t help if I pick up on somethin’, okay?” 

[empathickally]

" kiss me. just kiss me a lot. "

"Y’ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he whispered before doing just as he was told. Thick arms wrapped around Rufus’ shoulders, holding him tightly as he kissed him, happy and warm, a small moan echoing inside the other man’s mouth. 

Jarrett kissed him until he couldn’t breathe, then moved to kissing a trail across the man’s jaw, around the shell of his ear, at the soft, pulsing points on his neck. 

“Y’know you taste so good, babe,” he breathed into his ear before taking his lobe between his teeth, “So easy t’kiss, too.” 

[empathickally]

" oh. i shouldn't have eaten all that chocolate. "

“Aw, no, ‘Zit do the same thing t’ya that it does t’full dogs?” Jarrett frowned, hopping up to get a bucket, just in case. “You shoulda told me that before I made a chocolate cake....I’m sorry babe. You want some kaopectate, milk o’magnesia or somethin’?” 

[labradoesnt-blog]

@empathickally // cont. ]]

There is an amusing amount of determination on Rufus’ face as he takes care in rubbing away some of the more powerful undertones left behind by whatever Jarrett felt a need to smear all over himself; this process was as intimate as it was important. Jarrett was his. His person. His friend. His lover. His world. Anyone with a nose as good as his own needed to know that as quickly as possible — and making the blond smell a little more earthy than chemical was the price. Normally Rufus did his best to keep some of his more possessive behaviors in check but this? This was a ritual, now.

Affection overrides determination, however; the shifter chuckling and allowing himself to be used for balance as he leans into the attention at the base of his neck. The kiss to his cheek has him grinning before he gives one back — quick and sweet to Jarrett’s nose before he’s moving and hopefully aiding in the process of reattaching the prosthetic. “I’d catch you, you know.”

[empathickally]

He doesn’t hate it---nothing could be further from the truth, really. Jarrett knows that this is his boyfriend’s way of telling the world he’s taken, and even if he can’t really smell the difference himself, he knows it’s important, and he’s come to love it. Rufus picked him, and wanted everyone to know he was loved. It made Jarrett feel like a million bucks, plus getting an extra bit of affection just because he showered was always a bonus. 

A chuckle rings out, and the two of them cross the few feet to the bed, where he can start the process of sleeving his stump and sliding the rest of his leg on. It’s not a long process, no longer than a minute, though sometimes, post-shower, Rufus made it take a little longer because he was still rubbing himself in places that smelled too much like the Old Spice bodywash Jarrett been using for years. “I know you would, babe,” he says, standing to wrap his arms around Rufus again, “Just remember to use your words first, give a guy a li’l warning.” God, he was so glad today was his day off, all he wanted to do was spend it with Rufus, “I was thinkin’ maybe we could go to the park once I’m dressed.” 

[marie-dufresne]

Things I’ve Said to my Puppy: A Starter Collection

“Man you’re awkward. I mean, ridiculously beautiful but damn, grow into yourself.”

“What the ever-loving heckin’ heck are you eating now?”

“Excuse me sir, you can’t read.”

“You really have that ‘I don’t know how I fit into the world’ vibe about you.”

“That’s not polite.”

“You don’t even rise until you’re addressed. I’m digging your obedience.”

“Sit like a gentleman.”

“That’s not yours, friend.”

“That’s right. Listen to me and pretend to have an idea of what I’m talking about. I get that a lot.”

“I didn’t pay all this money for you not to be a cuddler.”

“Wanna go for a ride?”

“Show me your cop face.”

“I’m not a fan of you licking my teeth. Please don’t.”

“Okay; we’re done here.”

“Oh no, the postman! How ever will we survive now?!”

“You’re gonna be rude? Okay, you’ve lost the pleasure of my presence.”

“The piano isn’t evil, it’s just unpleasant to hear when I’m touching it.”

“Hey neighborhood watch, what’s going on with the town today?”

“We really don’t need to—oh we’re peeing in the garden now, that’s a thing.”

“I draw the line at shredding things.”

“What the heck is going on with your teeth?”

“No, you’re not helping.”

“We’ve all pooped. It’s your turn.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I’m just saying I don’t see anything.”

“I know you’re a blanket snatcher but you can’t snatch this blanket.”

“Oh, you want to help?”

“Leave him alone, he’s just trying to take a walk.”

“Right, right, defend your castle.”

“I wish I looked that beautiful having no idea what’s going on.”

“How do you get one?”

“This is not what I asked for.”

[empathickally]

"Hold still." Rufus sounds frustrated and maybe he is, given that the other man doesn't smell right. He smells like soap --- too much soap, and therefore Rufus has taken to rubbing their cheeks together in hopes of doing away with some of the scents. Replacing it with his own? A bonus, really.

He’s just barely dry, his hair’s still a little drippy, and he’s wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, crutching out of the bathroom to grab his prosthetic when Rufus accosts him, as is their ritual now. “What’re y--” he manages to get out before his mouth’s all but forced closed as the other man starts rubbing against him. Jarrett leaves his hands at Rufus’ waist, smirking and just standing there, using him for a bit of support since he was the one doing all the movement. 

When he can breathe again, he gives him a half-hearted spank with his arm crutch,  “Next time wait til I’m not a pirate, yeah? I don’t wanna fall over on ya.” But, now that it seems they’re both satisfied, he leans in and kisses his cheek, scratching at the base of his hairline on the back of his neck, just where he knew Rufus loved it. 

[rafaelbarbaesq]

PSA: ACTIVITY CHANGE

I finally got a goddamn job! 

However, that being said….means I won’t be around all day with nothing to do but hang out on my blogs (here [@rafaelbarbaesq], @operaticflair, @empathickally, and @lorcanthropy are my mains rn). So you WILL see a dip in activity! 

THIS IS IMPORTANT: I haven’t had formal employment in just over 2 years, so I have no idea how having a schedule and needing to stick to it is going to affect me. I am bipolar, I do have anxiety, so at the end of the day, my spoons may be nonexistent! I apologize for the slow-down, but working is my priority, and I’ve got to make sure I ration my spoons well enough to excel there. I’m not closing these blogs by ANY MEANS(I just made Gideon like a few days ago lol), but my activity will become slower. 

Thanks for reading! Love you all! 

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

Learning a little about Jarrett’s past brings mixed feelings; it’s hard — he knows — living from day to day without knowing if there was going to be a roof over your head. Being a stray. Jarrett had lived a bit of that life and Rufus was sad for it, sad to know that he suffered after serving like so many others. Somehow, though, it was also a comfort; they had it in common. Rufus found it hard to relate to others when it came to a lot of things. He’d never understand the basic training or the serving itself; human wars were beyond him. Humans scrambled for money and power and whatever else they could hold over others and Rufus couldn’t wrap his head around it — not when there were things such as warm beds and good meals to be had in the world. He lived simply. Thought simply, a lot of the time. The money. The power. Those weren’t things that interested him. Oh, one needed money to get just about anywhere but once people started to own multiples of everything, he was lost. There was no need for that kind of greed. No need for the sorts of hatred that wars caused, either. He did his best to stay out of all of it, didn’t even talk about it unless he really had to.

But Jarrett — Jarrett seemed like he was treated well. Someone had taken him in, too — and they still had contact with each other. It’s a warming thought, one that makes him lonely for a second as he remembers some of the families he wished he could check in on. He missed them. Missed some of the kids. Hell, a few of them were probably moved out and living their own lives by now. They probably didn’t think about their dog very often — the one that ran away. The one that they eventually replaced. All of them did and he couldn’t blame them, not when the void was easy enough to fill.

He hopes this man won’t be able to replace him so easily.

"Alright, alright — we’ll see what she’s got. You’ve got me excited, now.” Oh, his tail would be wagging away. A new, friendly and handsome face. A ride in a car. A warm meal. The only thing that would be better is if this man took him home at the end of the night. Rufus wants that more than anything as he climbs into the squad car and shuts the door. He figures buckling might be wise, given who he’s with, and when Jarrett asks about the window, he laughs too.

“Don’t tease!”

But his head tips and he most certainly does allow the wind to blow against his face as they travel. It’s nice — to be moving. To not be alone. Before this? He was only going to have cranky ghosts for company and now he was safe and warm with eyes closed and a breeze in his hair.

Things were going great.

Jarrett had never been homeless. His adoptive parents loved him, the teacher they'd gotten for him had treated him well, but he hadn't been able to afford a place to stay between the end of basic training and the start of his first tour. He'd liked living in his truck, honestly, sleeping out in the wilderness where no one could bother him with their intrusive emotions. But Heloise had made him realize just how bad of an idea that had been, that if he'd let himself get too accustomed to the emptiness of the great outdoors, it would be all the more difficult to come back into the big city, it'd be like having to make up for years worth of lost time, and it might break him. So he'd stayed in the city, learned how to cook a little, and found a strange rag-tag group of people he called family in New Orleans. His parents eventually helped him get a place when he came back, as did the money from the government---when it finally showed up. Sometimes he still liked to take breaks, a weekend camping, somewhere where he didn't have to always be 'on' like that. It was better. The Marines had given him the structure that worked so well with the training his mentor had given him with his power, they just fit together, and he wanted to help people, it had just felt like a natural progression. 

He wondered, as they walked, about Rufus. What led a shifter to be a ghost hunter? Was there anyone waiting for him to come home, anyone who missed him? A small, selfish part of him hoped the answer was no, because he didn't want to let go of this warmth just yet--or ever, if he could help it. The thought sent a shiver through his body, which he hoped Rufus didn't see. Jarrett was falling too fast, and despite his abilities, he felt almost completely unable to stop it. 

He didn't even want to. 

"What she's got is the best damn Cajun food you'll ever have in your life!" he exclaimed, beaming. She'd taught him so much in such a short time, honestly, he loved her almost as much as his own mother--even more in a few ways. His mouth began to water just thinking of the jambalaya he was about to order, extra spicy just how he liked it. 

Jarrett shrugged and chuckled, "Y'ain't exactly given me any hints as to what y'are yet, other than not human. And ya don't strike me as a cat or anythin' like that." 

The ride to the station is one of the most enjoyable he'd had, blasting 80s alternative, singing along with it(somewhat decently. ish.), watching the man shove his head towards the window, only confirming some of the suspicions he had about what sort of creature Rufus turned into. After everything was put away, his uniform securely locked away, and now, he made his way back down to the man he'd left waiting in the office, he'd passed him off on Shiela to get him the forms so he could fill them out later. 

"You okay bein' my back warmer?" He was wearing dark wash jeans now, a tank and a plaid button down with 3 buttons open, and carrying a motorcycle helmet, "It ain't far, I'll be gentle." This was about to get a lot more intimate whether he wanted it to or not. And he did.

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

Being told he isn’t a stray makes him pause, eyes soft when they suddenly lift. Rufus smiles through the memories that creep up in his mind. Memories of rainy nights under bridges and in tube slides at playgrounds. Days where he dug around through the garbage behind restaurants. When shifted, he got a lot more sympathy; it was easy to tell a man to get on his feet — to get out there and get a job, but people gave in when it was a big-blue-eyed dog staring them down. Occasionally people took him in. Rufus would spend winters with families that simply wanted a pet. He’d hide. Watch over them quietly with intentions of never speaking again. It was simple. It suited him. It was easier than roughing it outside.

It never lasted.

Rufus Bucceleuch wasn’t a pet. He wasn’t something that could be cooped up forever. He didn’t belong in a cage, didn’t belong on a chain in the yard. When he formed bonds — he wanted to build on them. He wanted to talk. To ask questions. To learn. To live. In recent days he wanted to help people, especially those who were scared and didn’t know who to turn to. Sometimes humans didn’t believe each other when they cried for help but Rufus …

Rufus always came running. It was a flaw, one that he tried to be proud of even when it almost got him arrested. He managed to dodge the bullet this time thanks to Jarrett being lovely as a person, but he would have taken the night in jail if it meant finding answers for those that asked him to look into the place.

He’s still a stray. He knows this. Rufus doesn’t fit in no matter what town he rolls into.

But it’s nice to pretend, even if only for a moment.

"Heloise, huh. I’ve only bothered with fast food since I showed up — a shame, I know, but sneaking around in the dark doesn’t always pay a lot.” It sounds like fun — this whole hanging out with a cop all night thing. It’s a shot at friendship that Rufus can’t help but grin at. He’s a sucker. It’s in his nature to want connections. Closeness. There was something about Jarrett that clicked so quickly. Something that made him trust him more than he usually did with any other boy in blue. It’s something he wants to investigate more than he wants to investigate the haunting. People like this — did they really exist?

If so … what was the catch?

Oh good lord, that face. 

Jarrett wasn't sure he'd fallen for anyone so quickly before in his life, but this guy was gorgeous, and look at them eyes. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. He'd been alone for so long, because he had no choice. First, it was everyone's emotions being too loud, being unable to block them meant he couldn't be around people, and after his years in isolation with the man who'd taught him control, he went straight to the Marines, baptism by fire to test out his ability to keep control of himself, really. If he couldn't handle himself in a warzone, he couldn't handle himself in regular life. 

It had worked somehow, but he'd never done much more than his job over there, made friends because he was just that sort of guy, who'd always make friends, always make everyone feel as good as they possibly could, but things had been so hard over there. Terror hung over the entire nation, a heavy thing that made just walking down the street feel like slogging through 2 feet of molasses. It was almost enough to do his head in, but fate had other plans, and had taken his leg. Jarrett had perpetually drowned in his own sorrow for almost a year as he learned how to live as three quarters of a man.

Before he can stop himself, he's latching onto the happiness he feels pouring off the other man and puts it on like a coat, changes it ever-so-slightly to give them both more comfort. "Yeah, she basically took me in after I got done with basic trainin' down here. Yelled at me in Creole for thinkin' I should just live in my truck til I shipped out, made me sleep in her guest room. She's a great lady. Prob’ly one’ve the best damn cooks in New Orleans, too." He chuckled, opening the passenger side door of the car as they came to it, "C'mon, I ain't goin' to Heloise's in uniform, she'd kill me, gotta head back to the station to change real quick." 

Jarrett still didn't know what sort of shifter Rufus was, but he had a hunch, "Do I need to roll down your window so ya can stick your head out?" He's laughing, buckling himself in and turning on the radio--A Flock of Seagulls, perfect, one of his favorite bands.

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

There’s something about Jarrett that makes him stick out from the other humans that Rufus as met. It’s difficult to place, to name, or to really understand. Rufus had always lived his life through his feelings rather than his noggin and it got him into all shades of trouble while growing up. As a young pup, he did whatever he thought was fun and it drove his mother crazy. He was always where he shouldn’t be, always talking to strangers or following them home. It took some time to get it through his head that he wasn’t like the other kids he came across. That they were different. That they didn’t live by the same rules. Rufus tried to understand, tried to listen to warnings but in the end, he always followed his heart and it was something he did to this very day. He believed that it kept him whole — to live day by day. To snuff out his fears and look on the brighter side of things. Everything that happened, even the bad, happened for a reason. He was supposed to meet Jarrett tonight. He was supposed to learn about the building — about the werewolf coach, the psychic receptionist. All of it.

Maybe this place was it.

Rufus spent his time on the road, moving from case to case. Place to place. He never stayed in one town for long because it felt like a risk. Life was fun on the move; he got to meet new people and enjoy new foods. Every city had its lore. Every city had its pride. Every city had its people. Oh, there were secrets — dark sides to things, but Rufus found the light everywhere he went. It was part of him to shine through, in the end. The world hadn’t been the kindest to him and yet he grinned through it. He survived. He thrived. There wasn’t a hateful bone in his body and that was simply fact. Nothing had changed that.

Hopefully, nothing ever would.

The handsome cop lets things slide — comes up with a plan to make things right by the books. Permits. Those were things he never really dealt with and they sound a lot like paperwork he doesn’t want to fill out but dinner is mentioned and suddenly everything seems to be well worth it. The more time he spends with Jarrett, the better.

Part of him hopes he won’t be sleeping alone, tonight. That star in his chest seems to burn even brighter at the thought of loneliness being put to rest for a while and he chuckles, nodding as though he’s been worn down to the thought. Defeated — yet they both know better.

Rufus perks right up at the word ‘ride’ and then he smiles — lazy and slow. Oh, he likes Jarrett. He likes Jarrett a lot.

"Only because I had to borrow one, once.” Stole. He stole it and he doesn’t seem ashamed of the fact. They have to move, to be out of the building before the clock hits a certain hour and the hauntings reset. The ghosts here were stuck, doomed to repeat the same activity around the same times of the day. It would take a bit to find out why. It might take longer to make it stop, if he even could. A step is taken and he intends to lead Jarrett out. “I have enough stuff in here, for now. I know it’s haunted. Having proof is more for the books and the books aren’t as interesting as someone inviting me to dinner and a ride in a squad car. Strays’ll get attached if you spoil them too much, you know.”

Honestly, as sheltered a life as Jarrett had lived--had had to live, because of his powers, he was surprised he was so well adjusted. Perhaps it was just the training he'd received, but the ability to know how someone was feeling made it easier to know how someone would appreciate being responded to. That had helped. He still got too excited around good people though, they weren't exactly hard to find, but genuine people, to the levels he was getting off this guy? That wasn't something he'd felt in anyone other than a child in, god, he didn't even know how long. But Iraq had changed him, too, brought him back as both more of a man and less. The less was more literal than figurative, but it had been a long road back to happiness after that. He liked helping people, he liked feeling warmth return to their bodies when they'd been cold for longer than he'd known them. But maybe now, in front of him was his chance to get warm, and to stay warm for once. 

Whispers of words swirl in his mind, and at least he's gotten to recognize when they're thoughts he's hearing from someone's head, not things actually spoken aloud. "I'll help ya with the permit, it's not a lot of forms, promise." It was honestly more of a cursory thing, just in case the house fell in, the city didn't want to be liable for the man's death. Not that whatever lived there would do that, but, precautions were precautions for a reason. 

His heart's singing, and he's not sure if he's allowing himself to be affected by Rufus' boundless enthusiasm, or if this was what it felt like to be happy now, but he sure as hell hadn't felt anything like this before. He felt great, like he could take on an entire army of demons and come out the other side just fine, leaving them broken in his wake. For someone who was so in touch with everyone else's emotions, he really should have been able to read himself better, but that created some sort of a feedback loop; it was twice as hard to handle as anyone else's. 

Jarrett chuckles and takes the following position, making sure he's the last one out, not a civilian. He knew what happened in the old house, knew the time limit they were under. "You ain't a stray though, Mr. Buc-- Ah, hell," words die on his tongue for the barest of moments as he figures out how to express himself, "You know you got a hard to pronounce name. Rufus, you ain't a stray, you got ID and everything." They get outside, and his squad car's parked right there, windows down on this balmy Southern night. "You tried any restaurants in town yet? I know just which one, you're gonna love Heloise's cookin'."

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

Even with the friendliness between them, Rufus knows that he needs to play it carefully. The shifter trusted too easily and it was one of his deepest flaws. He trusted people — sometimes they would betray him, and then he’d end up trusting them all over again. It was in his nature. Someone had once told him that it would get him killed, one day, but he’s managed to keep that a lie. Humans were complicated things; they held so much fear and hatred for what they didn’t understand. Hunters usually became hunters because of something far from natural crossing their lives. They grew bitter towards entire races without an understanding that not all cryptids were the same. Not every werewolf craved the taste of human hearts. Not every vampire drank from humans until there was nothing left. It took getting to know the people that also existed within the paranormal. Not all people were willing to do that, once they learned.

But Jarrett is a different story.

In his other form, his tail would most certainly be wagging by now. The blush isn’t missed. Rufus wants to be the cause of another. The man did well in staying calm but when he blushed he smelled different. Happier. Sweeter. He follows him as he moves one way and Rufus repeats the semi-circle in the other direction. Energy. He has too much of it — especially now that he isn’t alone and the company is actually interesting.

More and more so, by the second. This man was not only aware of his world but he specialized in it. This was the first case he’d found where the law enforcement of a place was aware of things and seemed kind towards what it brought him. A werewolf coach with a psychic receptionist. Good psychics were hard to come by but understanding cops? They were impossible to find. Relief fills his entire being when he realizes that he probably won’t end up behind bars, tonight. This case was different. He was different.

Not to mention he was absolutely flirting.

A laugh sounds, clear and warm, at the suggestion that he may be ’small and cute.’ His head shakes and he moves closer, smirk cocky and tone anything but innocent. "Oh, I’m adorable. I don’t eat people in a way that isn’t fun and I’m anything but small.” Oh. The innuendos. “Get to know me and I’ll show you, sometime.”

Jarrett could turn his attraction down, he could chill Rufus out if he wanted to, but it was so refreshing, somehow? New Orleans was a great place, full of life--and unlife, but that was another story--and happiness, but there was a solemnity around it, had been ever since Katrina and her devastation. As far as Jarrett was concerned, right now? Rufus was the sun finally breaking through a decades-long cloud bank. The room physically felt warmer to him as they both started to gain comfort around each other, with the other. 

Emotions were a deep and wonderful thing for a telempath, they were more than just emotions, each feeling tied to colors, temperatures, songs, he could feel them with every one of his senses--and probably more that he didn't have the ability to grasp. Rufus was a sun, a brilliant shining ball of gas, and the room, though dark and drafty, seemed bright, like he could see better in the lack of light, like someone'd left the radiator on in this old, dilapidated building. Wait--the building this alleged paranormal investigator said was haunted as shit. Not that....Jarrett hadn't figured that out already, but what were they both doing here, standing in the middle of a room like sitting ducks. Were the entities that lived here benevolent? Or would something fly out of nowhere and smack one of them across the face so they could stop making googly eyes at each other? 

Professionalism absolutely flew out the window with those words, and Christ on a crutch, Jarrett could almost book him for indecency then and there, but he wondered how the guy would look cuffed to his bed. "Listen, I can't let ya set your stuff up tonight, we've got permits and the like you gotta get, but I'll forget I found ya here, help you fill the permits out in the mornin' if ya come to dinner when my tour's done." He checked his watch, thirty minutes. There really wasn't much left for him to do, it'd take him nearly that to get back to the precinct and drop off the squad car, and by the time he dressed out, he'd be ready to punch his time card for the day. 

His warm sunbeam smile turned a little mischievous before he locked eyes with the other man. "You ever ride in the front seat of a police car?" If Rufus was gonna flirt so blatantly, it'd be almost rude of Jarrett not to respond.

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

There’s a smile on Rufus’ face before the guy even tries to say it; Bucceleuch is a mouthful of Dutch and not many people knew what to do with it. He doesn’t correct them, he never does. Maybe he’s waiting for a new pronunciation to use as the name was already stolen, to begin with. An inside joke with himself; Bucceluech was the man responsible for creating the breed of shifter he happened to be. Under a microscope, he wasn’t human or dog, really, but he favored being considered one over the other. Maybe it has something to do with fear — with being so outnumbered. Humans were everywhere. Shifters? They were becoming more and more rare each day.

Taking his ID back and shoving it in his wallet, he feels at ease when the gun goes away. The bullets would have to be silver to do more than hurt him but they did hurt and he didn’t need to be limping around for weeks smelling of blood and weakness. It would hurt his job as well as his chances of survival if something else showed up in town. Ghosts were one thing but there were other rumors about where he was being home to bigger game. Things he had no business being around. Things he didn’t want to cross paths with, if it happened to be up to him.

Brows shoot up when the word ’werewolf’ comes out of the cop’s mouth. Oh. His coach happens to be one — so he’s part of it, part of the world he lives in every single day. That changes things. That changes, well, everything. If a werewolf trusted this man with his secrets, then that meant a lot. It meant worlds. Werewolves were like shifters in that they were hunted simply for existing.

A small little smile forms; he’s smart. Rufus likes that.

“You’ve guessed right, so far. This place is haunted out the ass and I’m not human but I’m not a werewolf, either. Look at you. The most clever cop I’ve met in a long time. I’m impressed.” Rufus does a little half-circle around Jarrett as excitement rises. There’s something almost mischevious in his eyes as he watches, wonders. How much has this cop seen? How much does he know? What had his werewolf buddy told him? He wants to ask, wants to know — but information is never free.

“I guess a werewolf is the next closest thing to what I am — but I can shift and unshift at will. Not into anything big and scary, though.”

Obviously with a last name like that, Rufus must have heard plenty of ways of butchering that name. Jarrett's tongue was much more accustomed to French and Creole, rounder, smoother sounds. He didn't know a lot about Dutch other than the G was pronounced like you were about to hock a big ol' loogie, which didn’t help him at all, since there weren’t any G’s in the name. He'd tried, but he was certain it wasn't right, the fact the'd tried was what mattered, though, right?

He's supposed to be working, on the job, but he can't help the fact that that smile is...incredibly attractive. Was it because he knew Rufus wasn't human and he didn't freak out? He didn't shoot first and ask questions later? Maybe most humans really were like the movies when they came upon some supernatural creature. At least he could hide his powers, that would never be a problem for him, but he knew it wasn't the same for his boxing coach. Once a month, he had to hide, once a month, he wasn't human, didn't have the wherewithal to stop himself from killing anything that smelled funny. 

The smile that comes to Jarrett's lips when Rufus compliments him is followed by a blush rushing to his cheeks, and his tousled curls fell into his eyes. "Well, thanks, I s'pose," he says, unconsciously turning towards him as he moves, always facing him. It was partly his service training, but partly because this guy just had some magnetic quality about him. "Like I said, you ain't my first. I know a few folk. His receptionist's a psychic, actually." Liv was such a nice girl, poor thing always had demons on her tail. 

If his ears could perk, they would have, "Okay, well, see. You're still tresspassin', but that's where things get a little...different." How did he explain his position? "I'm a cop, yeah, but I'm not just a regular cop. Anyone in town complains of ghosts or monsters, I get the call." Technically him, a vampire, a telekenetic and some chick who could freeze people, but he didn't need to know that. "I c'n usually...subdue anythin' big or scary, least enough to stop 'em from eatin' people or whatever they're doin'." 

He returned the smile, now, finding his confidence, "So if you're not somethin' big and scary, 'zat mean you're somethin' small and cute?"

[empathickally]

labradoesnt‌:

Rufus has lost count of how many times he’s ended up almost-arrested. It came with the job, with the territory of sneaking around in places he had no business being. Investigating the strange was mischevious work that put him in abandoned buildings, sewers, and properties posted as private all the time. Usually, he could do his job and shimmy on out without being noticed. Sometimes he was actually able to get law enforcement on his side, if whatever he was hunting was causing enough trouble. As long as a human could be present for whatever needed to be done to solve the problem.

A problem, to Rufus, involved people getting hurt. He had no business invading the lives of other cryptids who were just trying to make it day to day — like himself. He wasn’t a hunter. No. He’d never call himself such a thing, would never associate with those people ever again. It was important that he hide among humans, that he blends in as well as possible — but that doesn’t always go as planned.

He keeps himself alert to the other man’s presence — to the feelings he lets off. There is an uneasiness that seems to settle once the flashlight crosses his eyes and he knows, without needing to ask, that the shine had been caught. His head shakes when asked about checking in with anyone and he moves, slowly, to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and hand it over.

“No funny business.” There’s nothing strange on the ID card. Nothing that hints towards him being anything but human but this cop is smart. He knows. He’s experienced something, been touched by the otherworldly because he’s calm. Confident. A smile forms, testing. He knows he’s caught and he’s a terrible liar but it won’t stop him from trying to talk around the subject. “You’re kinda asking for a lot; folks like me don’t usually get to tell and live.”

The ID looked clean, Rufus--now at least he had a name to go with the face--seemed genuine, just like he was unfortunate enough to get caught doing something illegal. No funny business, sure. But whatever he was, he wasn't human. "Well, mister...Bucceleuch." He knew a little Italian, but Jarrett was pretty sure he'd just butchered the guy's name. He wasn't friendly enough with him to go for Rufus, though, didn't want him to think he'd made a friend when he still wasn't sure what he was going to do with him. 

Don't get to tell and live? Well, that's different. "All right, here," he held the ID out to him, and once his hands were free, he put his gun away, "I ain't gonna shoot anyone who's not actively tryin' to hurt me. You're trespassing, but you're not bein' violent." Now was when Jarrett had a decision to make. It would make this Rufus fella more at ease to know he wasn't the only supernatural thing in the house, maybe make him more open to telling him. He wasn't going to force it out of him, even though he could, calm him down enough to loosen his tongue, that wasn't his style. 

"Now look, my boxin' coach is a werewolf, so I don't have anythin' against any other creatures or whatever you are," yeah, that came off a lot worse than he'd intended it. "But a human bein' here ghost huntin' is one thing, it's a whole different thing when some sorta supernatural thing's lookin' for ghosts," Jarrett smiled, sending a wave of calm across the distance between them, just enough to quell the anxiety that was threatening to swallow them both up. "Usually means they're real. Least that's what my coach tells me." God, he really wished he'd known more about magic and all that shit before being released out into the world.

Jarrett just watched him, ready to do whatever he needed, should the moment go south. "Now, I don't know if all wolf eyes shine the same, but your eyes don't shine the way coach's do, so I'm guessin' you're not a werewolf."