#and roy but his reasons for not being touchy are different (guilt)

[courtmartialme]

hyuai dynamic in my delusion world. riza didn't really like hughes at first because she wasn't used to such a cheerful personality, and also kinda judged him for building a family after all they've done, but she eventually warms up to him. on the other hand hughes always liked her and enjoys telling her about his family because she's a very good listener :^) did you know hughes calls her "riza-chan" in one of the fma games i think that's important

[beanie-beebo-writes]

Faith Pt.II

Category: Oneshot; genfic

Summary: Another life saved, another lost. Day in and day out it's the same for the Winchesters. Continuation of the episode from s1, Faith

In the life of a hunter, you couldn't have connections. Ties to the normal civilian life meant putting others at risk. Sam and Dean knew this, but nothing would stop them from feeling connected to the people they saved. Every once in a while, an opening would come up between hunts. Giving them the perfect opportunity to catch up on the lives of those they saved, however they could. Usually it was through local papers; it was safer that way. Calling meant the connection would still be there, and opened the possibility of a blossoming partnership.

One early summer afternoon, Sam and Dean had settled back into their chintzy motel room. Their previous hunt had consisted of nothing more than a measly vamp infestation, but still nonetheless grueling. It was enough to make Dean want to sleep for a few days after a nice, hot shower.

"I wish more hunts were this easy." Dean said, plopping onto the nearest bed.

"Yeah, you're telling me." Sam said, failing to observe Dean was on his bed. "Alright, I don't know about you, but I need a shower. I can still smell that last vamp we took out, perfume included."

"Bathroom's all yours. I need a breather, maybe a nap. Just don't use up all the hot water, Frieda." Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes before shutting the bathroom door with a huff. Dean gave himself an approving nudge on the shoulder and smirked.

"Dean 1, Sam 0." Dean muttered to himself triumphantly.

He momentarily began to doze, but it wasn't long before his thoughts got the better of him. It had now been almost two months since his father chose to sacrifice his own life for Dean. He still couldn't wrap his head around it all, of what exactly happened and why his father seemingly gave up so easily. He wondered exactly what could have been going through his mind when he did what he did. There were so many unanswered questions, ones he would probably never get the answers for. The likely deal his father made to save him was just as much of a knee-jerk choice as Sam going to that faith healer that one time. How desperate was his father to make such a choice?

Dean still remembered the look on Sam's face when he found out his brother had drawn the short straw, from that hunt not too long ago. He never was good at hiding how he really felt, not from Dean anyway. The hurt shone brightly in his younger brother's unshed tears, and it was obvious the only reason Sam brought him to the faith healer was out of desperation. But deciphering his father's true intent was like trying to focus a laser on a minnow in murky water.

Had Death whispered in his ear, or was he really so far out of options? Dean paused as the image of the reaper coming after him in Nebraska came to him. He shuddered as the memory clashed with his father's final moments.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly feeling sick. A knot formed in his stomach for a completely different reason as a face wedged itself to the front of his mind.

He almost reluctantly opened up Sam's laptop and went through Ford City's past few obituary sections in the local papers.

There had been so much going on, he hadn't recently checked in on any previous hunt survivors. Guilt seeped deep into his heart. Last time they had talked, she had months left to live.

Sure enough, in the second most recent newspaper was Layla's face, sticking out like a sore thumb.

"Layla Rourke; beloved daughter, niece, granddaughter, and friend to many passed away Thursday, June 29th 2006. Services will be held Friday, July 7th at Munderloh Funeral Home from 1pm to 3pm and 5pm to 7pm."

Dean's stomach dropped. Another name to add to the list of the people who he didn't save, once again. He almost wanted to laugh, the last conversation they ever had, involved faith. Where was this so-called God now? Where was He whenever good people needed it most? It was easier to believe that a God never existed than to get his hopes crushed every time a life drained away, at his stupid expense nonetheless. Yet, the people who still believed, got their hopes crushed in the end. Dean only wished he knew how to feel.

"Hey, you okay?"

Dean turned around to a fully dressed Sam, fresh out of the shower.

"Uh, do you remember Layla? The chick who was at that faith healing session?" Dean asked.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Yeah, I definitely remember. Why?"

"She uh, her funeral is this week." Dean said.

"Oh.." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, um. I'm sorry to hear that."

"I think I'm gonna head up to Nebraska, you good for a few days?" Dean asked.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I'll be fine, but I know how much that last conversation…" Sam trailed off.

Dean clenched his jaw. "I need to do this by myself, Sam. I'll be fine."

"Alright, just let me know if anything comes up." Sam said. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but-"

"You're always there, blah blah. I know. Enough touchy feely crap, I'm headed out." Dean retorted.

"And Dean?"

Dean turned around, a hard glare set in his eyes.

"Just be careful."

Dean slammed the hotel door behind him in frustration, roared the Impala's engine, and sped off towards Ford City.

Dean pulls into a decent sized parking lot, thankfully while all the other grievers seem to be heading away for intermission. He takes a swig of whiskey and exhales roughly before heading inside the nearly empty funeral home to pay his respects. After finding his way to the correct viewing room, he comes across a shorter woman standing by the casket, blocking his view of Layla. He hangs off to the side out of sight, waiting until she is ready to leave the room.

"You can come up, if you wish. I won't be too long." She says.

"It's alright. You take your time." Dean says.

"You're not bothering me, hun. I don't bite." She responds.

He takes up the invitation; Dean figures it probably wouldn't hurt to give her some company.

"She really was something, wasn't she?" Dean asks.

She sniffles lightly. "Layla truly was one of a kind. One of the brightest souls I have ever had the blessing to come across."

Dean nods, taking in Layla's peaceful presence.

Brief pause. "How did you know her?" The woman asks.

"Layla.. She was kind to me even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I was for some reason chosen to be saved over her, she never held it against me. I think she even had faith for me."

"Yeah, that sounds like Layla. She didn't have a mean bone in her body. I'm Jamie, by the way; Layla's aunt."

"Nice to meet you; I'm Dean. Sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, same to you."

Another brief silence.

"You know, I may not know you, but I can tell you're worth more than you think." Jamie says.

"Sorry, but you are highly mistaken." Dean replies.

"Layla, she was a person of good faith. She only kept you around, if she felt your intentions were good. She may have been kind to everyone, but if you knew her, you also knew she wasn't one to condone ill intentions. If she had faith in or for you, you are a good person."

Dean didn't have an answer; his eyes focused on Layla.

"Did you come far?" She asks to break the tension.

"Uh, yeah," Dean finally glances back into Jamie's direction momentarily. "I was originally working in Jersey this weekend."

"Hm, now if you weren't a good person, then why did you come all this way for her?"

He stares at Layla's portrait next to the casket. He knows Jamie was trying to make a good point. Although, that point didn't condone everything he had done.

"It was nice meeting you Dean, take care." And with that she walks away, leaving Dean alone with Layla.

For a few moments, he didn't even know what to say. What could he even say? One of the last times they had been together, he stopped her from being healed. He felt so dirty, standing here when he clearly felt he shouldn't have been. It's not like his brother couldn't kill Azazel without him. Yeah, Sam would be broken without his brother, but not incapable. He would have Bobby at least. Sam survived college without him, he could have survived Dean pulling the short straw.

"Hi Layla.." Dean's voice begins to waver. "I bet I'm the last person you wanted to hear from, but.. I'm here anyway. I couldn't not say goodbye.."

Dean plays with the denim of his jeans awkwardly.

"Listen, about what happened months ago.. I need you to understand, I never wanted this to happen to you. The reason I was healed...wasn't God. Although, I'm sure if you were here, you would say so anyway. My brother brought me to Roy because... he was desperate. And.. He made a mistake. I mean, I guess if he didn't find Roy, we never would have met and I would have never saved those people.."

Dean pauses and glances behind him, making sure he was still alone.

"My brother and I, we hunt things..Unnatural things. I'm not going to explain everything but, if you were to follow us for a day, maybe you would understand. And what healed me, was something.. not natural. And God.. He wouldn't condone what it was. Now, I know I couldn't save you. But there hasn't been a day that has gone by, that I haven't regretted that. Hell, if anything, I would have traded my life for yours in a heartbeat."

Tears begin to sting his eyeline.

"Layla I.. I wish things could have been different for you. I'm sorry." He sniffled. "I know your Aunt Jamie was saying all these things about me being a good person, but.. If I was a good person, I would have let you be saved, even if it was unnatural. But me being me, I hunted the unnatural thing before you could get that chance."

Dean pauses to collect himself.

"Yeah.." He whispers to no one in particular.

He gives her a final farewell, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and somberly heads outside. Just after he walks out the double doors, a paper smacks him in the face causing him to flail briefly. After gathering himself, he holds out the paper to observe.. a poster appreciating the troops. "Thank you, for putting your life on the line. You are our hero."

Suddenly he looks up, feeling as if he has eyes on him. Standing across the parking lot in a beautiful, rose colored dress is Layla, smiling. Before Dean could think of what to do, she disappears.

Dean/Jensen tags: @akshi8278​

[beanie-beebo]

Oneshot: Dean pays respects to an old friend.

A/N I know I never really write like I used to, but I do come up with a few good things now and again. Enjoy. ❤

In the life of a hunter, you couldn’t have connections. Ties to the normal civilian life meant putting others at risk. Sam and Dean knew this, but nothing would stop them from feeling connected to the people they saved. Every once in a while, an opening would come up between hunts. Giving them the perfect opportunity to catch up on the lives of those they saved, however they could. Usually it was through local papers; it was safer that way. Calling meant the connection would still be there, and opened the possibility of a blossoming partnership.

One early summer afternoon, Sam and Dean had settled back into their chintzy motel room. Their previous hunt had consisted of nothing more than a measly vamp infestation, but still nonetheless grueling. It was enough to make Dean want to sleep for a few days after a nice, hot shower.

“I wish more hunts were this easy.” Dean said, plopping onto the nearest bed.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Sam said, failing to observe Dean was on his bed. “Alright, I don’t know about you, but I need a shower. I can still smell that last vamp we took out, perfume included.”

“Bathroom’s all yours. I need a breather, maybe a nap. Just don’t use up all the hot water, Frieda.” Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes before shutting the bathroom door with a huff. Dean gave himself an approving nudge on the shoulder and smirked. 

“Dean 1, Sam 0.” Dean muttered to himself triumphantly.

He momentarily began to doze, but it wasn’t long before his thoughts got the better of him. It had now been almost two months since his father chose to sacrifice his own life for Dean. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it all, of what exactly happened and why his father seemingly gave up so easily. He wondered exactly what could have been going through his mind when he did what he did. There were so many unanswered questions, ones he would probably never get the answers for. The likely deal his father made to save him was just as much of a knee-jerk choice as Sam going to that faith healer that one time. How desperate was his father to make such a choice?

Dean still remembered the look on Sam’s face when he found out his brother had drawn the short straw, from that hunt not too long ago. He never was good at hiding how he really felt, not from Dean anyway. The hurt shone brightly in his younger brother’s unshed tears, and it was obvious the only reason Sam brought him to the faith healer was out of desperation. But deciphering his father’s true intent was like trying to focus a laser on a minnow in murky water.

Had Death whispered in his ear, or was he really so far out of options? Dean paused as the image of the reaper coming after him in Nebraska came to him. He shuddered as the memory clashed with his father's final moments. 

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly feeling sick. A knot formed in his stomach for a completely different reason as a face wedged itself to the front of his mind.

He almost reluctantly opened up Sam’s laptop and went through Ford City’s past few obituary sections in the local papers. 

There had been so much going on, he hadn’t recently checked in on any previous hunt survivors. Guilt seeped deep into his heart. Last time they had talked, she had months left to live.

Sure enough, in the second most recent newspaper was Layla’s face, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Layla Rourke; beloved daughter, niece, granddaughter, and friend to many passed away Thursday, June 29th 2006. Services will be held Friday, July 7th at Munderloh Funeral Home from 1pm to 3pm and 5pm to 7pm.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. Another name to add to the list of the people who he didn’t save, once again. He almost wanted to laugh, the last conversation they ever had, involved faith. Where was this so-called God now? Where was He whenever good people needed it most? It was easier to believe that a God never existed than to get his hopes crushed every time a life drained away, at his stupid expense nonetheless. Yet, the people who still believed, got their hopes crushed in the end. Dean only wished he knew how to feel.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dean turned around to a fully dressed Sam, fresh out of the shower.

“Uh, do you remember Layla? The chick who was at that faith healing session?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed in amusement. “Yeah, I definitely remember. Why?”

“She uh, her funeral is this week.” Dean said.

“Oh..” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow, um. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I think I’m gonna head up to Nebraska, you good for a few days?” Dean asked.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with? I’ll be fine, but I know how much that last conversation…” Sam trailed off.

Dean clenched his jaw. “I need to do this by myself, Sam. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, just let me know if anything comes up.” Sam said. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but-”

“You’re always there, blah blah. I know. Enough touchy feely crap, I’m headed out.” Dean retorted.

"And Dean?” 

Dean turned around, a hard glare set in his eyes.

“Just be careful.”

Dean slammed the hotel door behind him in frustration, roared the Impala’s engine, and sped off towards Ford City.

~~~

Dean pulls into a decent sized parking lot, thankfully while all the other grievers seem to be heading away for intermission. He takes a swig of whiskey and exhales roughly before heading inside the nearly empty funeral home to pay his respects. After finding his way to the correct viewing room, he comes across a shorter woman standing by the casket, blocking his view of Layla. He hangs off to the side out of sight, waiting until she is ready to leave the room. 

“You can come up, if you wish. I won’t be too long.” She says.

“It’s alright. You take your time.” Dean says.

“You’re not bothering me, hun. I don’t bite.” She responds.

He takes up the invitation; Dean figures it probably wouldn’t hurt to give her some company.

“She really was something, wasn’t she?” Dean asks.

She sniffles lightly. “Layla truly was one of a kind. One of the brightest souls I have ever had the blessing to come across.”

Dean nods, taking in Layla’s peaceful presence. 

Brief pause. “How did you know her?” The woman asks.

“Layla.. She was kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was for some reason chosen to be saved over her, she never held it against me. I think she even had faith for me.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Layla. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. I’m Jamie, by the way; Layla’s aunt.”

“Nice to meet you; I’m Dean. Sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, same to you.”

Another brief silence.

“You know, I may not know you, but I can tell you’re worth more than you think.” Jamie says.

“Sorry, but you are highly mistaken.” Dean replies.

“Layla, she was a person of good faith. She only kept you around, if she felt your intentions were good. She may have been kind to everyone, but if you knew her, you also knew she wasn’t one to condone ill intentions. If she had faith in or for you, you are a good person.”

Dean didn’t have an answer; his eyes focused on Layla.

“Did you come far?” She asks to break the tension.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean finally glances back into Jamie’s direction momentarily. “I was originally working in Jersey this weekend.”

“Hm, now if you weren’t a good person, then why did you come all this way for her?”

He stares at Layla’s portrait next to the casket. He knows Jamie was trying to make a good point. Although, that point didn’t condone everything he had done.

“It was nice meeting you Dean, take care.” And with that she walks away, leaving Dean alone with Layla.

For a few moments, he didn’t even know what to say. What could he even say? One of the last times they had been together, he stopped her from being healed. He felt so dirty, standing here when he clearly felt he shouldn’t have been. It’s not like his brother couldn’t kill Azazel without him. Yeah, Sam would be broken without his brother, but not incapable. He would have Bobby at least. Sam survived college without him, he could have survived Dean pulling the short straw.

“Hi Layla..” Dean’s voice begins to waver. “I bet I’m the last person you wanted to hear from, but.. I’m here anyway. I couldn’t not say goodbye..”

Dean plays with the denim of his jeans awkwardly.

“Listen, about what happened months ago.. I need you to understand, I never wanted this to happen to you. The reason I was healed...wasn’t God. Although, I’m sure if you were here, you would say so anyway. My brother brought me to Roy because... he was desperate. And.. He made a mistake. I mean, I guess if he didn’t find Roy, we never would have met and I would have never saved those people..”

Dean pauses and glances behind him, making sure he was still alone.

“My brother and I, we hunt things..Unnatural things. I’m not going to explain everything but, if you were to follow us for a day, maybe you would understand. And what healed me, was something.. not natural. And God.. He wouldn’t condone what it was. Now, I know I couldn’t save you. But there hasn’t been a day that has gone by, that I haven’t regretted that. Hell, if anything, I would have traded my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

Tears begin to sting his eyeline.

“Layla I.. I wish things could have been different for you. I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I know your Aunt Jamie was saying all these things about me being a good person, but.. If I was a good person, I would have let you be saved, even if it was unnatural. But me being me, I hunted the unnatural thing before you could get that chance.”

Dean pauses to collect himself.

“Yeah..” He whispers to no one in particular.

He gives her a final farewell, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and somberly heads outside. Just after he walks out the double doors, a paper smacks him in the face causing him to flail briefly. After gathering himself, he holds out the paper to observe.. a poster appreciating the troops. “Thank you, for putting your life on the line. You are our hero.”

Suddenly he looks up, feeling as if he has eyes on him. Standing across the parking lot in a beautiful, rose colored dress is Layla, smiling. Before Dean could think of what to do, she disappears.

[benperorsolo]

royai and reylo for shipping thing

you’re a doll

royai

Who was the one to propose:

Was ‘Will you follow me?’ ‘If that is your wish, then even into hell’ not a proposal

Who stressed more over wedding planning:

Roy lmao. Actually probably Grumman. Gotta make sure his granddaughter gets the best. He and Roy spend half the time freaking out over the color of the tablecloths while Riza does security detailing and rolls her eyes at their ridiculousness. 

Who decorated the house:

Both, but Riza maybe more. In FMA proper she seems to have more of a homey-house than Roy’s Apartment of Depression. Riza’s the one who sets up the curtains and silverware and whatnot, while Roy hangs the pictures.

Who does the cooking:

Riza. Roy can cook and doesn’t mind to it, but Riza genuinely enjoys it as a way to take her mind off things. Roy makes a lot of breakfasts for Riza though, especially from she’s frazzled from work.

Who is more organized:

Riza again. Roy manages to never lose anything in his menagerie of chaos, but Riza is the one to alphabetize everything.

Who suggested kids first:

Roy. Riza wants them, but feels too much guilt to ever actually ask for them. Roy feels equally guilty but has managed to move past it much better than Riza.

Who’s the cuddler:

R o y at least in terms of being the initiator. Riza isn’t as overtly physically affectionate as Roy but she very much likes the fact that Roy is.

Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:

I honest-to-god see Riza as the big spoon. Roy likes being held, k

What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: 

Honestly, walking Hayate. For all their state-running ambitions, they’re really homebodies at heart. It’s simple, and more important, it’s simply domestic– in the way they thought they’d never be allowed to be.

Who comes home drunk at 3am:

Roy. I mean, this happened in the anime, when he bought Riza flowers and pawned it off as being so inebriated that he did it by accident.

Who kills the spiders:

Either. Probably Riza does, because Roy makes the sort of sad philosophical tirades about killing innocent animals simply because they’ve taken up residence in places deemed ‘inconvenient’ by others that Riza has to grimly ignore when getting pests out of the house.

Who falls asleep first:

Roy. Riza reads a lot in bed, with Roy’s head on her lap as she idly strokes his hair. Then again Roy often stays up late reading alchemical texts, but in that case he stays up in the office/study and doesn’t bring the texts with him to bed.

A head canon:

The Mustang family is never without a shiba inu in the family. Roy and Riza raise Hayate’s puppies alongside their own kids, until the Fuehrer’s house is always overrun by at least one dog scampering in the kitchens or the rosebushes. Eventually the dog breed becomes associated with Fuehrer Mustang himself, and his period of rule over Amestris.

Do they have any “rituals”?

Taking Hayate out for a walk together, in the early dawn when the world is still crisp and cool and barely lit.

Who has the most patience?

Oh Riza, infinitely more than Roy. Roy has patience for long games, like his bid to be Fuehrer, but when it comes to everyday annoyances he’d sooner fry his problems than wait them out. Riza’s got that snipers’ patience for a reason.

Reylo

Who was the one to propose:

Ben. He’s by far the more formal of the two, and so it would actually matter to him that he did it ‘right’ for Rey, who was denied so much in her life– getting down on one knee with a ring, and the whole shebang. I don’t even think proposing would register to Rey, growing up abandoned and unloved as she did on Jakku. Not in that she wouldn’t want to be married, but she would be shocked (even after a long-term relationship) that anyone would want to be married to her.

Who stressed more over wedding planning:

I don’t think either are the type to stress over details. That dubious honor goes to Leia. It’s a very minimalist wedding, on Takodana– Leia goes a little pale when Rey explains (Ben blushing furiously beside her) why they want to have their ceremony on that planet particularly. But regardless of the terrible circumstances of their meeting, it’s still the place they first met, and the place that brought them to where they are now. Luke officiates, and it’s literally just rows of chairs set up in the woods beside the exact spot where Ben found Rey and Rey immediately tried to shoot him (Rey points out the still-extant blaster mark on the tree with a sort of amused glee that has Finn and Poe slightly concerned and Ben wanting to die of embarrassment). The reception is at Maz’s castle, of course.

Who decorated the house:

Rey. Ben keeps very few personal effects, and keeps his spaces militarily clean. 

Who does the cooking:

Ben. Rey is totally helpless in the kitchen, though Ben conscripts her to help him so that she’s not completely helpless in situations where Ben’s not there. Nevertheless Ben does the bulk of the work, especially when it comes to experimenting in the kitchen with what Rey calls quote/unquote ‘pretentious’ recipes. 

Who is more organized:

Ben. Rey is organized by dint of growing up with nothing, whereas Ben is organized by dint of personality. Rey grows more and more messy as she begins to shed the impoverished layers of habit forced on her by Jakku. Their room is usually a mess of Rey’s clothes just scattered all over the floor.

Who suggested kids first:

Rey. Ben is terrified of having children, for the obvious reasons of his past and his fraught relationship with his own father (and to a lesser extent, his mother). Rey has her own terrors too, having grown up abandoned without parents of her own. But Rey’s greatest dream has been to have a family of her own, and she’s the first one to let that hope outweigh her fears.

Who’s the cuddler:

They’re both very touchy, having been denied it for so long. But Rey is much more likely to initiate PDA.

Who’s the big spoon/little spoon

6′ 3″ tol vs 5′ 7″ small. I wonder which could possibly be which. More seriously, after an entire childhood spent alone, clutching herself in her AT-AT, Rey really likes the reassurance of being held at night. Ben is more than happy to oblige this. Rey being the big spoon usually involves some sort of acrobatics.

What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:

Sparring is something the both of them have always enjoyed. After Ben manages to get Rey into the water (she’s had a pathological fear of swimming for as long as Ben’s known her), then Rey takes to it with an alacrity that’s almost alarming.

Who comes home drunk at 3am:

Neither of them are that grossly irresponsible tbh. 

Who kills the spiders:

Whoever’s closest to the spider.

Who falls asleep first:

Depends. Rey is, of course, ‘desperate to sleep’, but this sleeplessness has gone away substantially since finding purpose and friends with the Resistance, as well as family in Ben’s family and Ben himself. Ben is more likely to go to sleep right away but awake during the night.

A head canon:

A serious one: Before Han left for Starkiller, he gave Leia back his wedding ring as ‘insurance’ that he would return to her this time, and not run away. (Later, as Leia lay contemplating all of Han’s mysterious lucky breaks, she thinks that Han might have –must have– known what was to happen to him. But when facing death, as always, he would go out with a brave smile for the princess.) When Ben confesses to his mother that he’s going to propose to Rey, Leia gives Ben her ring along with Han’s, for Rey and Ben to use as their own wedding rings. If they want. Leia is very clear to stress this; stress that this is not a legacy either of them must bear if neither wish to. But Ben silences her with an enormous hand against her own; the hand cupping the rings. At first, Ben worries that Han’s ring will be too small for him, but his father’s fingers had always been stout and sturdy where Ben’s are long and callow, and in the end, the ring fits just right.

Do they have any “rituals”?

Repairing the Falcon together whenever Rey returns from a trip (Ben rarely gets off-planet, considering the Republic very much would rather he not and it’s a lot of hoops to allow him to go anywhere). Ben is not a half-bad mechanic himself, even though he’s not as instinctual at it as Rey, and he knows that Rey doesn’t need him for the task. He also knows that half the real reason is to get Ben to step foot on the Falcon, which he rarely does without reason. 

He is grateful to Rey for giving him a reason.

Who has the most patience?

I know the jump-to answer is Rey, but I think they just get impatient over different things. Both of them have beserk buttons that make them snap– Ben’s usually involving incompetence and Rey’s injustice.