#short shorts are only for home activities. he once mowed the lawn in them though

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

Guess who my favorite MF character is

Yeah, it's him. Have you looked at him??? Look at him!! Gorgeous man. Precious, beautiful, handsome, pretty... He's just... So well made as a character, he's so deep... So tragic, so sad... He deserves the world 😭❤️

[collecting-stories]

Bake-off - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: can you write something with jj where the reader bakes a lot :) i understand if not, but i bake a lot (especially pies, i’m rambling sorry!) and thought this would be cute

A/N: So, since it’s JJ the baking had to include weed. 😛

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

The tray of banana nut muffins sat on John B’s table, half eaten. It was long before Big John died that there was ever even a homemade birthday cake in the house, neither men having much luck in the kitchen. But the muffins didn’t belong to John B anyway, they were JJ’s, which was even more peculiar, according to Kiara. If the Routledge men were shit at baking than the Maybank’s had never even turned on an oven.  

“They’re a gift.” JJ shrugged, laying across the laz-e-boy on the porch and munching on one.  

“A gift?” That was more shocking than their existence. JJ didn’t really get gifts and definitely not baked goods.  

“Did you mow someone’s lawn?” Pope asked, reaching for the muffin only to have JJ Flop away from him at the last second.  

“You could say that.” He grinned, attempting and failing a wink.  

“Ew, JJ.” Kiara groaned and walked back into the living room, emerging a moment later with one, “oh my god they’re edibles.”

“What?” Pope asked.  

“There’s weed in them.”

“Yes there is.” JJ grinned, “I ate two last night and was cooked. It’s some good shit.”

“Is it your shit?” Kiara asked, taking a bite.  

“Obviously, I said it was good didn’t I? I got the best shit on the island Kie.” He replied.  

“I know you didn’t make them so who made them for you?”  

-

JJ was a purest, as he dramatically referred to it. He rolled his own joints, dried his own weed for vaping, and he didn’t do edibles. At least he didn’t until one of the guys in the kitchen at the hotel turned 21. A box of cookies sat on the counter in the kitchen, marked Andrew. Double chocolate-chocolate chip, according to Andrew, and packed with a enough weed to “have you cooked after half of it”.  

“They’re delicious man, you gotta try one.” Andrew had insisted.  

“I don’t do edibles.”  

“You’ll regret it.”

And naturally, being told that there was the possibility for regret was a guaranteed way to ensure JJ did something. His bizarre fear of missing out dictated that he have no regrets and so he took one and ate the whole thing right there in the kitchen. And it was good...it was so good it didn’t even taste like weed and he was two seconds from telling Andrew he’d been dupped when he felt the familiar ease settle over him.  

“Where’d you get these?” He asked, slipping three into a plastic bag and dropping them in his backpack.  

“That girl that works in the kids area.” Andrew shrugged.  

You were a glorified babysitter, in charge of occupying people’s toddlers while they went out to play golf or shop or go to the spa. Not the greatest job in the world but the kids were usually easily contained and the parents always tipped well.  

JJ knew you to see you, always wandering around with some kid or another attached to your hip, talking about Frozen or Descendants...he’d heard you duet a song from some Disney Channel movie with one of the little girls just last week. It made you seem a bit green honestly. He couldn’t imagine you doing anything less than innocent, especially making your own edibles.  

He waited until after his shift to look for you, still wearing his white button up and vest but with his cargo shorts back on. You were outside supervising and participating in a game of soccer with a handful of eight year olds.  

“Hey,” he called, waving to you as he walked up. You tossed the soccer ball back into the makeshift field and turned toward JJ, “Andrew said you made him those cookies, for his birthday.”  

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “I know he doesn’t like to smoke so...”  

“Could you make me some?”  

“Sure, what flavor?” You turned away for a moment to make sure all five of your children were still actively playing soccer and JJ took the opportunity to check you out. Your t-shirt advertised the hotel and hung loose on you. Shorts and a pair of running shoes completed the look and he was appreciative for the view of your legs.  

“Chocolate peanut butter.” JJ decided.

-

Chocolate peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodles, brownies, blondies, coffee cake, you and JJ had slowly formed a friendship built on experimental edible recipes. He supplied the weed and you made him whatever baked goods he could think up. He had even downloaded the Tasty app and Pinterest for the sake of finding new desserts for you to tackle.  

“So this girl just makes you whatever you want?” Kiara asked the next time a container of cookies appeared at John B’s house. Sugar cookies, with piped on icing that made them look like beach balls.  

“It’s business Kie. I supply the weed from my cousin, she makes the edibles. We sell them too, it’s a very lucrative business.” JJ replied, eyes closed, laying in the hammock outside John B’s while he smoked.  

Kiara was munching on a sugar cookie. She wasn’t really complaining about the edibles, her mom had been on her lately about the possibility of her smoking and the edibles were easier to hide. Especially because yours didn’t smell half as bad as some she’d had in the past. Mostly she was just curious about this girl that JJ was spending time with. He acted like it was casual but Kiara had known him for a long time and she knew JJ lacked the ability to hang out with a girl casually. Even they toed the line sometimes.  

“So when can we meet your esteemed business partner?” Kiara asked.  

“What?” JJ rolled his head to the side to look over at her, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. “Why do you wanna meet her?”

“Why don’t you want us to meet her?” She countered.  

“I don’t care. You can meet her.” JJ replied, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He couldn’t fool Kiara and he knew that but that didn’t stop him from trying. He didn’t want you to meet his friends, mainly because he liked having you all to himself. It meant your attention wasn’t divided four ways.  

-

“These are burnt on the bottom.” You commented, sitting on the kitchen island beside a cooling rack of peanut butter cookies. The peanut butter was JJ’s favorite though you usually didn’t make them because of allergies.  

“They’re fine.” JJ replied, munching on a cookie while he scrolled through tiktok. You rolled your eyes at him and held one up, turning it over to inspect the nearly black bottom of the cookie. JJ had sworn that he would keep an eye on them while you left to talk to your mom on the phone but he’d let the buzzer go two minutes before he finally took it out.

“At least you’re the only one eating them.” You remarked, taking a bite of the one in your hands. You scrunched up your nose at the taste of burnt cookie, “the high better be worth it.”  

JJ put his phone down, pushing off the counter so that he could come over and stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow as JJ moved your knees apart so that he could stand between your legs. He opened his mouth, letting out an ‘ahh’ and you rolled your eyes at him as you placed the burnt peanut butter cookie in his mouth.  

“It’s burnt.” You reiterated, watching him chew the cookie. You had discovered that JJ could pace himself far better with a blunt than he could a batch of cookies. He’d eat three in a row and get cooked, an unusual occurrence for him. You ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Your hair is so greasy it literally stands up on its own.” You teased.

“I washed it!”  

“The last time you went in the ocean does not count as a bath.” You replied. You continued to play with his hair as he leaned closer to you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.  

“You have off tomorrow?” JJ asked, still munching on his cookie.

“Yeah but my mom’s home all day.” You replied.  

The experimental creating of edibles had led to a friendship and then a something in between. You weren’t quite ready to call JJ your boyfriend but you certainly weren’t entertaining the idea of anyone else. He spent all his time at your house when he wasn’t with his friends or working. Even when your mom was home and there was no baking, he hung around. At work he sought you out throughout the day, more than once crashing whatever activity you were doing with your kids.  

“I was thinking you could come out on the boat with us.” JJ said. He was determined, now that he’d told Kiara he would, to introduce you to everyone. It certainly didn’t mean that he was planning on giving up his alone time with you but he’d concede to Kiara this time. “My friends wanna meet you.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” You replied, smiling at the implication that he was introducing you to his friends, “but I’m making them better cookies cause these are burnt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“No but there’s something wrong with me for trusting you to watch the oven.” You said.  

His eyes opened and he pouted at you. “I’m very responsible.”

“I know babe.”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @jolomez @timotaychalabae 

[krisanderwrites]

Malachite and Sparrow 02

My second summer there was a mix up in the paperwork and I had to vacate the dorms for two weeks until it was sorted out. None of my classmates lived close enough to make couch surfing a viable option, so I eventually swallowed my apprehension and called my mother. Although I attempted to keep the conversation short, she was elated to hear that I would be coming home this year. When I finally hung up, I knew that there was no way Malachite had not overheard my given name. Of course she was considerate enough to not mention it.

The long trip home was peppered with anxiety attacks and countless worries. By the time I finally arrived in the airport, I was exhausted. Thankfully that gave me the excuse to ignore the way my parents did not recognize me until after a second glance. They shuffled me into the car, berating my tardiness and how it was messing with my sister's schedule since she had an important meeting. Everything felt dull and far away, much worse than my depression ever was while at college.

I took it easy, as much as someone going to Elsewhere University can on break. Unable to break the habit of watching every word I uttered, I found solace in furthering my research online and at the local library. I cleaned out my old room, throwing away most of the things I had no use for anymore. I visited my great-aunt Hazel in her nursing home. When she pressed a plastic bag full of small boxes into my hands, I gave her a strange look.

"For exchanges," she said, smiling. Opening one, I found a kitschy set of matching topaz earrings and necklace. Realizing the gift, I gave a small gasp. She would not accept me doing anything for her in exchange, simply saying that she had no use for all of them anyway. I still have no clue how she knew about the Gentry. However, she had certainly given me ideas.

I began to talk to my sister and mother, telling them about Malachite's love of jewelry of all kinds- how she even made her own on occasion. In response, they gave me all of their old things that they no longer wanted to pass along to her. A few of my cousins even dropped off their old mismatched earrings and pendants and charm bracelets. I went to the nursery and picked up seeds of plants I had not been able to get my hands on while on campus. In the back of my closet I found my old fighting gear and packed it into an old gym bag my brother was going to throw out.

To make sure there were no debts I mowed lawns, weeded gardens, cleaned out gutters, scrubbed bathrooms, and bathed dogs. Each present got a chore in payment. Money exchanged hands as well, but I tried to reserve as much of that as possible for more important things than trinkets to trade. In the end I left with two more bags than I had come back with, full of all sorts of helpful things. I think somehow I knew even then that I was never really coming back.

"You know... you really have changed," my mother remarked as she dropped me off at the airport.

My mouth was dry, "Yeah, I think I have too."

"I'm not sure it is for the better," she snidely added.

"Well, I do," I shrugged and grabbed the last bag out of the trunk.

She seemed uneasy, "I suppose this is goodbye then."

"Yep," I said.

"Will you at least call?" she asked.

"Probably not," I answered, not even attempting to stretch the truth. "I think we both have very different ideas about who I am, and it would probably just hurt more."

There were tears in her eyes when she laughed, "You really have changed. I will wish you luck, then. Don't worry about your father; he already knows. He's considered you dead for at least six months now."

"That does explain the lack of conversation," I had quipped. "Well, I have to somehow get through security with all this."

I walked away without looking back even once. Somehow it felt like I was shedding my old skin. I checked my bags and got onto the plane with no troubles. Smooth sailing for the Captain. The feeling of overall sluggishness left upon entering campus again. Dropped off in front of the dorm building with my bags, I was delighted to see a greeting party of crows waiting for me. They were rewarded with the best sugar cookies my hometown had to offer. Overall it felt more like coming home than visiting my family ever had.

        *        *        *        *

Settling back down into a dorm room felt strange knowing that it was going to be just me on my own again. I planted all the seeds I had bought in trays that I placed upon the windowsill. I sorted through all the jewelry I had amassed and threw away the unnecessary packaging; it still filled most of a duffel bag. My old fighting gear was relegated to the back of yet another closet; I could not bear to throw it away but for now it served no purpose. Perhaps I could find a new group to practice with on campus later. I took a part-time job at a local veterinary clinic to help expand my knowledge and experience.

To be truthful, everything was just a distraction until Malachite returned. Without her nearby I felt the pull of the Else at my veins. Sometimes I would stare out at the forest with a longing- an urge- to simply walk among the trees and then keep walking. Realistically I knew that this was a terrible idea, but it was true all the same. The Fair Folk were more numerous on campus as autumn drew closer, all eagerly anticipating the return of the students as much as I was.

With no small amount of glee, I showed off my acquisitions to Malachite. She stared, wide-eyed, and asked what in the world I was planning on doing with all of that jewelry. I laughed her off, claiming that I was just going to save it all for a rainy day. It was mostly true. (I was something of a zombie-survival plan person anyway.) I did not tell her that my intuition said that there were storms coming.

Still, things continued on much as normal for quite some time, if perhaps a bit busier. I gave presents to Jimothy- as many beads as my cousins had managed to trade for me doing their chores. Clients at the veterinary clinic occasionally brought me gifts for helping to care for their animals, which I in turn gifted to fae or other students. My study group commandeered a room in the library where the time distortion was not too terrible. I set a broken wing for one crow and stemmed the bleeding broken beak of another.

Sometimes I attended parties just to escort people back to their dorms safely. Ever curious, I worked endlessly on ideas and inventions that I never intended to see the light of day. After all, knowledge of how to heal and soothe comes only after knowledge of how to hurt and break. The contraptions piled in my closet next to my unused fighting gear.

It took some time for me to realize that Malachite had plans of her own.

By helping others and trading in offerings of homemade bread or sweets for crystals and gemstones, she had amassed quite a literal treasure trove. Taking these precious finds, she then created jewelry from them. Homemade trinkets are always worth more to the fae than ones that you buy in a store. As I watched her collection grow, I suddenly understood her concerns with my own hoard.

Then one day I walked in during a break from classes and realized something had happened. Malachite was burning sage in the room which showed evidence of a recent bout of furious cleaning. When pressed, she simply said that the salt lines had been worn away over time and needed replacing. The fearful glances to the corner of the room, however, spoke a different story.

I decided that though my hands were often burned with silver nitrate (so useful in stopping small bleeds), perhaps having the Sight was something I should keep around more often. Just in case. I began wearing a mood ring on my middle finger. It immediately turned to black and then remained that color whenever I wore it. I tried not to feel anxious about this and failed miserably.

        *        *        *        *

Right at midterms there was a brief flurry of activity before things settled down again. Hardly anyone got taken over midterms that year, as there were several days that were designated safe due to the school fair. Then there was a night where all the signs were there for A Hunt. There was a new moon and strange yelling that could be mistaken for baying. Everyone kept to their dorm rooms and locked the entrances.

What came knocking at our door was our new RA, who was a nice enough woman studying business and law.

"Captain," she had said.

I had tilted my head and informed her that was not my official nickname.

"No," she laughed, "but it suits you well. You're already rather well known as a Knight." Something about that title rang true in my bones and I had to suppress a shiver as she continued, "Anyway, there is a bit of a situation. They are asking for you to come out and see to one of their hounds."

"What they?" Malachite had demanded.

"You know, the Fair Folk," she explained.

"Absolutely not."

Blinking, we both turned to the side. Malachite pushed forward to stand in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"I'm not letting Sparrow take one step outside on a night of A Hunt. Even if it were not suicide, the chances of being stolen are far too great."

I laughed, "All my new surgical tools are made of steel. I doubt any of Them would want me."

Despite her protests, we both ended up following the RA to the threshold of the dorm hall. Standing there was a perfectly respectable attempt at a humanoid form, albeit with an extra limb or two. At least they were trying. The hound itself was, as typical, an eldritch abomination that could possibly be construed as canine if you were on LSD and also only had ever known dogs from the story of The Hound of the Baskervilles. However, the long, hungry glances the Good Neighbor kept sending towards Malachite were disconcerting.

"I will heal, for that is what is right," I offered readily, "but should you attempt to take or harm my companions, I will fight, as that is also right. Do we have an understanding here?"

The hissing reply was not pleased-sounding, but not being attacked outright was a good sign. When finally it nodded petulantly, I stepped forward to the heaving mass on the grass and kneeled down. Luckily it turned out to be a small favor. The monster had thorns in its hide from a hawthorn tree dipped in iron. Snarling at the wicked items, I palmed them with the thought to destroy it later by fire. A small salve applied to the wounded areas and the Hunt was once again ready to leave.

"Freely given," I said as they vanished into the mists.

"You're foolish," noted the RA. "You should have asked for something."

"Asking for payment is more foolish than being a good person," I replied. "All my aid is freely given, and I won't charge the Gentry any more than the crows. I am a healer, after all."

"Talk softly, treat others kindly, and carry a big damn stick," supplied Malachite.

"Exactly," I smiled as I closed my fist around the iron-tipped thorns.

        *        *        *        *

The hungry eyes of the Gentry were long forgotten as time slipped past. There was too much to do and too many who needed aiding for paranoia to set in fully. It did not catch my attention at the time that my plants were starting to grow a little too well or my newly acquired pet fish seemed more colorful than was natural. I did not notice when I began to avoid eating my food with excess salt.

No, my first sign that something was terribly wrong was an itching, sore rash across the back of my neck.

It took some time, but eventually we figured out the trusty iron chain that our talisman rested upon was causing the problem. For a few days, neither of us spoke about it. Suddenly developing an allergy to iron was greatly concerning. And telling. We both knew what it meant, despite trying to ignore it.

Slowly, things began to change. The salt lines in the doorways and windows became complex symbols and runes. The gemstone satchels somehow migrated away from my side of the room. I began to take my coffee with creamer and sugar, despite always having had it black before.

"Fae-touched," someone told us when they noted me sitting on the grass to avoid the iron bench. "Not quite a Changeling, but not entirely human either. You've gained a lot a favor with the Gentry. Or a lot of ire, I suppose."

"Don't listen to her," another student rolled their eyes. "Everyone knows Captain Sparrow's a knight and a healer. The Good Neighbors like you just where you are."

It explained a little, we supposed. My family was mixed, but both sides had come from areas steeped in tales of the Fair Folk. Those with links to the old countries always were a little more at risk. So we simply decided to take more care and discuss our options. And we agreed. Neither of us would leave for the Else without the other. We would remain together through thick and thin.

Thus our third year at Elsewhere University ended with us just as close as before.

[mirrorworldangel]

OTP Question Meme 1

Got tagged by @r6shippingdelivery thanks for the tags!

Imma do a second one for a different OTP cus this is kinda fun.

Tagging @dimethief @lj-todd @rayearthdudette @retrodisaster​  @ourwarbird and anyone else who wants to try this.

(art done by @ourwarbird)

Gustave “Doc” Kateb x Julien “Rook” Nizan

DISAGREEMENTS

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Usually it’s Doc, but there are some rare occasions Rook would scream.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Rook, he would either use a different room to sleep in or would leave to stay with someone for a few nights until one of them m up and  

Who trashes the house? Because of an argument? Neither. 

Do either of them get physical? Once, and it was a slap to the face. It never happened again.

How often do they argue/disagree? They would sometimes have a few disagreements and bickerings, but when it comes to big arguments that’s when everybody know shit just hit the fan.

Who is the first to apologize? Whoever feels more guilty for how they acted, which usually is the one in the wrong (once they realise that).

SEX

Who is on top? Depends on who is in the mood of controlling the other, but mostly it’s Doc.

Who is on bottom? Rook, unless Doc let’s him hold the reins. Literally.

Who has the strangest desires? Rook would think it’s him,but Doc is always the more experimentally curious.

Any kinks? Bondage, marking/biting, dirty talk, discipline, lingerie with heels, collar, riding crop, creampie.

Who’s dominate in bed? They let the mood take them.

Is head ever in the equation? Yes.

If so, who is better at performing it? Rook, he has more experience.

Ever had sex in public? Sometimes. From Doc’s office to the communal showers, where they could have their own privacy but  getting the thrill of possibly getting caught.

Who moans the most? Rook, Doc likes to make as many sounds as he could from the man.

Who leaves the most marks? Both.

Who is the most experienced of the two? Both.

Do they ’fuck’ or ‘make love’? Depends on their mood.

Rough or soft? Middle ground, veering more towards rough most of the time.

How long do they usually last? Depends on the day and their stamina, but it’s not uncommon they’ll go for 2 rounds.

Is protection used? Sometimes, but mostly not.

Does it ever get boring? Never. They like to spice things up differently.

Where is the strangest place where they’d had sex? At the infirmary wards, they had to be quiet about it because there are a few operators that were asleep there. But also there was that one time at the parking lot in their car...

FAMILY

Do they plan on having children/ have children? They wanted to, but were afraid of bringing it up because of their busy lives.

If so, how many children to they want/have? One or two, twins at best.

AFFECTION

Who likes to cuddle? Both do, especially after work.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate places? Both, they enjoy the flirting game together to see the other getting hot and bothered,

Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves? Both, but mostly Doc with a bit of dirty talking.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? No idea because I haven’t thought about that.

Who gives the most kisses? Both.

What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Spending time together. Taking walks with their pets, lounging together, and all of the simple things they do together. They also adore sight-seeing around the places whenever they are at other countries together. 

Where is their favorite place to cuddle? Anywhere and anytime.

How often do they get time to themselves? Everyday after work? Weekends and day offs? Its the times they finally get to relax without worrying about work are the best.

SLEEPING

Who snores? Not snoring, but heavily breathing for Rook.

If both do, who snores the loudest? Look at the previous answer.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? They share.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay separately? They cozy up together, Rook snuggling at Doc’s side with Doc’s arm around him.

What do they wear to bed? Sometimes in their shirts and boxers, sometimes Rook uses Doc’s button-up shirts. They would also sleep naked after sex.  

Are either of them insomniacs? Not really, although if woken up from a nightmares, the other would wake up to accompany them until they go back to bed again.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Nope, no sleeping pills.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Yeah, they wrap their limbs around each other whenever its cold. They also would lay side by side as well.

Who wakes up with bed hair? Both, although Rook is the winner here.

Who wakes up first? Both are early risers, Doc is a bit of a slower paced.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Both, whoever gets up first.

What is their favourite sleeping position? Either spooning, or one of them using the other’s chest/shoulder as a pillow.

Do they set an alarm each night? Yes, they do have to wake up for work.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Nope. They have dogs for that.

Who has nightmares? Doc. Rook only occasionally.

Who has ridiculous dreams? Once it’s Rook saying a song verse in his sleep.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? I don’t think so? It’s mostly about the blanket hoardings.

Who makes the bed? Both, they take turns.

Any routines/rituals before bed? Both would kiss their pets goodnight after final rounds of bathroom duty and feeding. Once in bed, Doc would do the occasional reading and Rook with the social media accounts while they were snuggling with the pets that followed them to bed.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Doc. Pity him.

WORK

Who is the busiest? Doc, being the Head Medic of the team has its responsibilities and paperwork. Rook would try to help him out after Recruit trainings

Who rakes in the highest income? They seem to rank the same in Rainbow so they probably get paid the same? Or maybe because Doc is the Head Medic he earns more?

Are any of them unemployed? Nope.

Who takes the most sick days? No fucking idea.

Who is more likely to turn up late for work? Neither, they’re punctual.

Who sucks up to their boss? None, Doc would rather argue with Harry and Rook would plead at Harry until he gives in

What are their jobs? They're part of the GIGN team within the counter-terrorism group Rainbow.

Who stresses the most? Both, but Doc probably a bit more.

Are they financially stable? I think so, especially with Doc’s family background.

HOME

Who does the washing? Doc, he is a bit fussier with the type of detergent. Although Rook slowly takes over his task because Doc had to stay at work a bit later because of the paperwork.

Who takes out the trash? Whoever finds the trash full before bed or work or else the pets will have a go at it.

Who does the ironing? Both do. You gotta keep the formal uniforms crisp smooth, so why not iron too whatever other clothes need ironing.

Who does the cooking? They cook together, mostly Rook.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? None, unless if they’re too stuck to their phones or had fallen asleep while waiting for the kettle, then it’s a fair game.

Who is messier? The pets.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Blame it on the pets.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Military life has trained them to not keep throwing dirty clothes on the floor, amongst other things. The only exception is when they undress each other and fall in bed kissing and marking each other, they can’t be bothered to think about that in the heat of the moment.

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither. The fuck is this question.

Who is the prankster around the house? Again blame it on the pets.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? One of the pet birds they fostered has a slight obsession with shiny things.

Who mows the lawn? They have an apartment, not a house with garden, so neither in England. If they are at the family cottage, they already had a gardener for that. But at Greece, there is no grass to mow.

Who answers the telephone? Both, but more often Rook.

Who does the vacuuming? Again Rook. This is his deal of the chores because of his habit of fostering stray animals.

Who does the groceries? Both, and they go together.

Who takes the longest to shower? None, they keep to short and efficient showers... unless they hop together under the spray.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Both. Being this handsome takes a lot of work. XD

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? I don’t think so.

How many cars do they own? Each had their own car, so when they start livign together they technically have two cars.

Do they own their home or do they rent? They rent an apartment near the base at England. Once they had to move to Greece, Doc took this as an excuse to buy a beach house for “family visits”.

Do they live in the city or in the country? Somewhere near a small town. Not too far from the base nor the nearest hospital in case of an emergency.

Do they enjoy their surroundings? For the most part. Surroundings are secondary, what matters the most is the company.

What’s their song? I don’t know why, but I always have the song Dandelions by Ruth B playing in my mind every time I think of them. 

What do they do when they’re away from each other? If they’re away from each other that means one of them went on a mission, so they do their jobs. But they also mail each other love letters and foreign bouquets and gifts to the other back home.

Where did they first meet? When they got selected to be part of Rainbow. Though in Rook’s opinion, its at the infirmary back in France.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Doc is extremely frugal when it comes to grocery shopping, but will easily splurge a custom made $200,000 Lamborghini in a blink of an eye to show off against NIGHTHAVEN. Rook would buy a lot of snacks and treats and toys for their pets, but is usually the one who had to control Doc on his lavish spendings just to show off.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? If it is meant to spoil the other, then it’s Doc and his family.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Rook, because it’s rare to see the orderly man stumble adorably.

Any mental issues? Yeah, Doc have PSTD (especially after Outbreak), Doc more than Rook because he had to deal with a lot of deaths head-on.

Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither.

Who kills the spiders around the house? Doc would, behind Rook’s back. While Rook would just simply find a cup and move it away by hand. 

Their favorite place? Their countryside cottage in France, lend from Rook’s parents.

Who pays the bills? Both. They split it in half.

Do they have any fears for their future? Both are terrified of losing the other during a mission. Them dying is something they have more or less assumed, but the other dying? Unthinkable. Especially if they died in their arms.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Doc. But with a nice home-made dinner tho? Rook is the winner.

Who’s the tallest? Both have the same height I guess?

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Both, but mostly Rook with permission.

Who wanders around in their underwear? I don’t think either of them would be probe to walking around in their underwear unless it’s for a romantic occasion.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? It would be Rook here, especially when he’s doing chores or dancing together.

What do they tease each other about? Doc would usually fuss about Rook’s weight but that is nothing to the whispers of sweet praises to Rook’s ear with a few kisses, how beautiful and sweet he is and how his loving heart could fit the whole world etc. Rook usually tease him about his motherly habits, but also cooes at how his darling “angel of grace” is always watching him.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Neither, because Doc has the best taste in men’s fashion and loves to spoil Rook rotten. And Rook has good tastes that he learnt from Warden.

Who crushed first? Rook.

Any alcohol or substance related problems? Nah. But is he occasional weed brownies included?

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Both, all the Spetsnaz go drinking together as a team, so the boys stumble home drunk together.

Who swears the most? Doc at work, Rook in bed. 😄

[silveraccent]

Designated Drunk || Grace & Cece

TIMING: Evening, Sept 5th PARTIES: @silveraccent & @thebickedwitchoftherest​ SUMMARY:  For once, Cece is the responsible one who’s listening to Grace’s ramblings. Grace lets a few secrets fly, and Cece thinks she may know what’s going on.  Trigger Warnings: Death mention. 

Grace didn’t drink. She didn’t drink because when she drank, it was harder for her to not let people in. Not metaphorically, but literally. She became an open book, and she hated it when she became that way. Hated the way she couldn’t shut up, the way her jokes became a little less morbid, a little more telling. Though, after the week that she had had, it was inevitable. After the situation with Winston at the morgue, Grace wasn’t sure what to think. It was real, she knew that much, but she wasn’t sure how to make sense of it. It had been awhile since she, Cece, and Regan had gone out for drinks, and with Regan’s sudden absence, Cece had found it important for the two of them to bond without the flying airplanes. Grace couldn’t blame her, as their last attempt had been a bit lost. She sat now in front of Cece, a cider half-gone as she wrapped her hand around it, the condensation rubbing onto the palm of her hand. “It was a good idea,” Grace said as she hiccuped, “that we didn’t go to the same spot.” God she was such a lightweight. 

Having a new face around the morgue had taken some getting used to, but luckily Cece was flexible and adapted to change well. Overall, Cece had decided that she liked the newcomer. Even if her personality was more aligned to Regan’s than her own, Grace was a fresh face and Cece had managed to get a few laughs out of her at work. More than she had gotten from Regan, after over 6 months. Cece was two drinks in, watching was fascination as Grace drank hers. She couldn’t get a good read on the kid, but something about the girl screamed lightweight. “I’ve made my way around the team. I know all the good bars.” Cece took a long drink and grinned at the girl, “Listen, I know you’re a lot nicer than me. But tell me that leaving Ricker’s behind wasn’t powerful?? Drinking game, take a drink for every time he told us about Cody’s after school activities today? Talk about blackout drunk.” 

“The good bars,” Grace nodded slowly, thumbing the bottom half of her glass and smeared the condensation around, “I like good bars. I don’t usually go to bars.” She looked at Cece. This wasn’t something she normally did, go out drinking, but she could release some of the stressors that had been making it hard to sleep lately, right? Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the reanimated corpse lunging at her and Winston and her stomach would churn all night long. Maybe allowing herself to have a few drinks would change that, make it easier to sleep. “I don’t know if I’d be able to survive that.” Grace scrunched her nose and lifted her drink to her lips, taking a hefty sip. The apple bit at the tip of her tongue. “I think… we’d die.” She looked up at Cece with a stoney gaze. “Or do something stupid, because of how drunk we’d be.” She laughed at her words even though they weren’t funny. “Maybe,” Grace continued, “we’d be able to make money.” Her eyes lit up. She knew she wasn’t making sense, it was why she didn’t drink, “do you think we could bet on it? I need new shoes.” 

“Really? I couldn’t tell, kid.” Cece laughed sarcastically, the obviousness of Grace’s lack of bar experience being pretty obvious. “Grace, I pride myself on being able to drink people under the table at five feet tall and even I couldn’t survive a drinking game like that.” Cece slapped Grace on the shoulder playfully and tried to imagine in a single day how many shots that would take. Cece wasn’t sure this bar had enough alcohol in stock. A day like that would end with Grace and Cece in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. This Grace, not many drinks in but already tipsy, was absolutely adorable. “Make money, huh?” Cece leaned in, egging the girl on. “Tell me more about this plan of yours. Where is the money coming from? What shoes are you going to buy? Most importantly, should we buy matching crocs?”

“You are really short.” Grace observed, looking Cece over. Despite the fact that they were both settled in their chairs, she could tell that she had at least 3 inches on Cece. “I wouldn’t survive either, but maybe it’d be a fun way to forget about the day.” She looked up at the blonde when her hand came in contact with her shoulder. It seemed like Cece was having a good time, but Grace’s impression was a bit muddled due to the alcohol. Truthfully, the reason she didn’t drink much was because she didn’t like how numb everything felt, despite wanting it to be quiet. “Money would be good, I could afford a new pair of Dr Martens.” She looked at Cece with a grin before taking another sip of her drink. She hadn’t been aware of the AC of the cider before ordering it, but it didn’t seem to matter now. “How many times in a day he would talk about his grandkids,” Grace continued, gaze settled on the napkin dispenser between them, “maybe 50. Whoever loses, pays up.” She furrowed her brows, “I don’t know if Regan would want to though.” 

“Thanks for the reminder” Cece scowled at her coworker, but she didn’t hold it very long before smirking. Cece had accepted her fate long ago. She had watched everyone around her get their growth spurts. Cece thought she would just be a late bloomer, but turned out she was actually cursed. The lack of height only fueled her. She gained power from being underestimated by the people around her. “I like your dedication to these new shoes. More than that, I love this obnoxious Ricker’s pool idea you’ve got going. Y’know what Grace? I like you. I think we’re going to get along.” Cece held her glass up and offered it in a cheers to tap against Grace’s, “What Regan doesn’t know won’t kill her. That’s my philosophy.”

“It’s okay, I’m short too.” Grace said it matter-of-factly. She leaned into her drink as she picked it up and pressed the rim of the glass to her lips. It was cool to the touch, her face already feeling warm from the alcohol. She blinked at Cece, “I have to be dedicated to something, right?” She smiled innocently at her before taking another sip, only to be left with less than a quarter of a glass. She set the glass back down onto the table. “I like you too!” She smiled broadly at Cece, “I was worried, because when Regan told me about the coffee, I thought maybe you didn’t care about your job, but you do.” She nodded again, “I like this job.” She looked at Cece and picked up her glass again, clinking it against Cece’s. “She won’t know, just like she won’t find out about what happened at the morgue.” She froze. Shit. 

That damn coffee story. For whatever reason, Cece had somehow come out of that story the bad guy for bringing coffee into a morgue. Sure, Regan May have been right in the minuscule and potential risks involved if the coffee were to spill. But she had to understand that Cece never let coffee go to waste. Not to mention, the real victim here still had not received any true justice, her almost full cup of coffee. Wasted. No one there to sip on it’s rich and caffeinated goodness. A true tragedy. Even if Regan ever admitted the two were friends outside of work, Cece would never forget the injustice given to her that day. “I do care about my job, actually. But I think there’s also something to be said for caring about the job a little too much.” Regan was passionate about her work. It was something Cece could admire most of the time. Except for when she was living in her office and throwing away her coffee. “A good work life balance goes a long way. Don’t forget that when you’re learning shit from Regan. She can teach you a lot of things, but that’s not one of them.” Won’t find out what happened at the morgue. That piqued Cece’s curiosity. She wondered if Grace was talking about the incident with the body? But he would Grace be so dead set on keeping something that wasn’t her fault a secret? “Tell me more about what happened at the morgue again. Scouts honor that it stays between the two of us.”

When it came to drinking, Grace was bad at it. As bad as she was with most things physically demanding, like soccer, or mowing the lawn. She couldn’t hold her alcohol and it showed in the way she bowed over her drink, a small grin tucked at her lips. She knew that she was going to either get herself in trouble, or Winston in trouble by even talking about it, but she could at least just say she saw the body, not what actually happened with the body, right? She looked up at Cece again in an effort to gauge whether or not she could actually be trusted. Sincerity rolled off of her as well as curiosity, for what Grace could tell. “It was…. Alive.” She blinked. That wasn’t the right word. “Not alive, but it moved.” She nodded. That description was better. “It moved… at me, and then it crumpled to the floor.” Not totally a lie. It was too bad it hadn’t happened prior to Nell’s truth serum wearing off. “Like… a pile of laundry.” She scrunched her nose and let her hands fall into her lap. “It just…. Fell apart, to pieces.” She picked up her drink and finished the cider off, the memory of that day leaving a foul taste in her mouth. 

A dead body that came back to life? This was definitely the most interesting part of Cece’s day by far. “The dead body moved?” Cece questioned Grace. It was important to remember that Grace was definitely drunk. Side note, Grace was an adorable drunk and should definitely not be driving home. That being said, Cece needed more to go on before getting too excited. In her experience, drunk people were usually more honest than sober people. But drunk people also tended to exaggerate more than sober people too. “When you say moved, you mean like normal spasms that corpses have? Or full on limb function?” Knowing what she knew about the status of the body at the end of the exchange, Cece was willing to bed on the latter. Unfortunately, Cece needed to stay sober tonight to make sure that good ol’ Gracy didn’t wander off into the woods and get herself eaten. “So what’s your take on this whole situation? Are you drunk enough to consider that this was supernatural or something?”

“It wasn’t gassy if that’s what you’re asking,” Grace mumbled against her knuckles as she held her hand to her mouth. She was in deep shit now, revealing what had happened. As long as she didn’t slip and mention the fact that Winston was with her, she should be fine. It’d be possible to just say that the corpse crumpled to the ground rather than admitting it came after them, right? She looked anywhere other than Cece’s eyes, she wouldn’t be able to hold in the truth if she made eye contact, she just knew it. “It got up… off the table, it moved, then it fell.” It felt weird, saying it out loud now. The words felt foreign on her tongue, like they were a lie, but she knew what she saw, she knew what had happened. Winston had been there, too. “Drunk enough to consider this a supernatural phenomenon?” She looked up at Cece finally, but looked at her nose instead. “I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t normal.” She kept her voice low, “honestly a lot of weird shit has been happening since I moved here, I don’t know what to believe, and it’s not like I can ignore it, I’m not exactly--” Grace clamped her mouth shut and let out a forced laugh, “I don’t know what to believe.” God, why couldn’t she just stay sober. 

That shit was magic if Cece had ever heard of it. And considering that Cece was a witch, she had definitely heard of it. But who the fuck had any interest in reanimating some stupid dead person inside of a morgue? Whatever they had done, it didn’t seem to work well if the thing just crashed soon after. Cece had a lot of questions, and none of them could be answered by a drunk girl who clearly had no idea what the hell was going on. Poor thing didn’t seem in tune with the supernatural world at all. Which could only mean that she was in for a rude awakening around these parts. “Yeah well, welcome to White Crest. This town is weird as fuck.” Cece stated matter of factly. Cece had spent the last ten years travelling the country with a coven with questionable morals and Cece still thought this town had a few screws loose. “I’ll tell you now kid. If you’re going to stick around, you may want to start lowering your expectations of what normal is.” Cece chuckled. It almost reminded her of how Cece had felt back at fifteen, discovering her own magic for the first time. “Was anyone else with you? What if I told you that we could stop something like that from happening again?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it weird,” Grace mumbled against her knuckles. She didn’t know how to explain what had happened, but it had to be something-- whether or not she wanted to believe it, there was definitely something supernatural going on. She had seen it when Winston blew the decedent to pieces, as well as when the door had fallen apart. There was no other explanation, the town wasn’t just weird. She had been called weird all her life, what she was capable of, it wasn’t normal, and she knew that-- but this? This was out of the ballpark in the world of weird, or normal. She could be confused, but still understand that there was something bigger going on, right? She rubbed the side of her face, the sweetness of the cider beginning to give her a headache. Maybe it was the bridal party in the corner of the room, she couldn’t tell. Elation filled her as the woman opened a gift and she went to take a sip of her empty drink. She looked back towards the bar when Cece asked if anybody else had been there, and without thinking, she spoke, “Yeah, Winston.” Grace’s bit down on her cheek hard. “But they left right before it happened,” she quickly covered up as she turned back to Cece. “Do you think we can get another drink?” She picked up her empty glass and wiggled it in the air with a frown. 

“You have a better word for it then?” Cece raised an eyebrow. In the know or not, even someone familiar with the supernatural couldn’t deny that something about the town was off. If a hellmouth was real, the one in this town would have a portal that dropped you directly on Satan’s lap. A widespread, long lasting town curse hadn’t been completely ruled out of Cece’s theories either. Not that Cece was actively trying to find a root of the cause. That certainly wasn’t her business, and not worth the trouble or danger. “Because I’m sticking with weird as fuck until I get a better adjective.” So Winston had been there? Or rather… Winston had not been there? Drunk Grace was a bit loose on the specifics, changing that they had left right before the body had moved. Cece knew Winston well enough on the surface as a coworker. The two had worked together before and both kept the whole werewolf versus lobster debacle to themselves. Clearly, they weren’t ignorant of the supernatural. “You bet we can. I’ll even pay for it.” Cece laughed, raising her hand to wave the bartender over. “Listen I’m not telling you this just because I think you’re one drink away from the deep end and you’ll forget the conversation. But I think I know what happened and I think I know a way to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She didn’t have a better word for it. Maybe just accepting it as it was what Grace needed to do, because if she didn’t, where would she end up? She shook her head, trying to figure out the word that was at the tip of her tongue, but refused to tumble over. She looked at Cece, “I guess that works, weird as shit.” She hiccuped at Cece’s declaration that she’d buy the next drink. Grace felt guilty, only for a moment, before giving her a firm nod. “I’ll buy the one after that, then!” Grace smiled at her, the mood from the corner of the room sinking its claws into her. The last thing she wanted to do was exhibit their mannerisms, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly cheered up, despite her longing to fall into the pit of despair that surrounded her current circumstances. “Wait, what?” Grace looked from her empty glass back to Cece, eyebrows pulled together in concentration-- concentration that she didn’t exactly have. “What do you mean you know what might have caused a dead body from being dead, to getting up and attacking us--” Grace chewed on the inside of her cheek. She needed to never drink again. 

Cece reminded herself to cut Grace off after this drink. Cece always supported a good, safe blackout drunk adventure. But this girl already said that she rarely drank. It was never a smart idea to put Cece in charge of being the responsible one, but even she could see the writing on the wall here. One more drink and Cece needed to get Grace home and hydrated. She’d still feel like shit tomorrow, but at least she wouldn’t end up in the hospital. Or worse, a two day hangover. “So it’s back to us then?” Cece raised her eyebrows in suspicion. Funny how the story kept changing. “And it attacked you this time? It’s like a whole new little fable now.” That didn’t exactly answer the girl’s question. Though given Grace’s current emotional state, Cece wasn’t convinced her coworker would quite comprehend an honest explanation anyways, “You think I’m completely blind to the shit that happens in this town? I didn’t cause the dead body to attack you, but I’m familiar with the spell. It’s magic.” Cece waved her hands around and added in some spirit fingers for dramatic effect. 

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Grace lied as she scrubbed her chin with her hand. The last thing she wanted to do was bring Winston into this, to out them for… what had they called themselves? She couldn’t remember, it had all been a blur. This was like those days in which she had been under the influence of the truth serum, her inability to shut up was a risk, and she knew it. “I can’t remember.” Grace let out a defeated sigh, one that she hoped was convincing enough to sway Cece into thinking that she genuinely had her details mixed up. She had even screwed up with Regan, not having mentioned Winston at first, when they were clearly on the security cameras. The m word made Grace’s skin crawl. “That’s what…” That’s what who said? She couldn’t say Winston, her story was already messed up. Defeated, she shrugged, “sure, if that’s what it was.” She had bargained with the idea that it was something else, anything else, but it was so clearly magic. Her Grandma had told her stories about sorcerers and covens, but nothing that she ever took for truth. Though, with her involvement in tarot readings, of course those things would shroud her stories. 

“Clearly, that much has been obvious.” Grace couldn’t decide on what the truth was. Admittedly, Cece wasn’t in the mood to pressure her too much on the issue. There was a reason she was remaining slightly apprehensive. Either she was protecting Winston or hadn’t quite accepted what she had seen yet. Either way, drunk Grace clearly wasn’t going to be any more help. Cece had already gotten the answer she needed anyways. Someone was playing around with necromancy. Bringing corpses back to life for the hell of it. And by the looks of it, they were either just doing it to fuck around or they sucked at actually bringing someone back to life. If that was the case, the problem may have taken care of itself. Bringing someone back from the dead was a dangerous game that needed to be done perfectly. “You’re new to all this. No worries there. I’ve been there too. Stick with me, I’ll help enlighten you to the world of fuckery. It’s a wild ass ride, fair warning. There’s not really any going back once you start.” 

Truth be told, Grace had no idea what she was getting herself into when she moved to White Crest. She hadn’t expected to have a reanimated corpse running at her, hands outstretched. She hadn’t expected to see somebody fling the body against a wall without so much as moving a finger. It was all… chaotic, and the expression on Grace’s features showed that. “I’m already living here, so aren’t I kind of in it?” She was taking this all a lot easier than she had expected of herself, mostly because she wasn’t sure what was real and what was dramaticized. She picked up her glass to find it empty. A frown pulled at the corners of her lips as she looked back to Cece. “There’s a lot you can’t explain, but I’m guessing you can?” She looked towards the bar, glad to see it was absent of paper airplanes flying their way. “Did you ever figure out what happened with the planes?” Grace asked absently as she tried to slip off of her chair. 

Grace had a point. Not everyone got the luxury of living in White Crest and ignoring the weirdness. Cece didn’t quite grasp the people that lived here their whole lives without recognizing. For the most part, the town seemed normal enough. But once someone got their first glimpse into the weirdness, it felt like a rabbit hole that couldn’t be climbed out of. Unless that person was Regan, who had managed to be permanently stuck head first in the rabbit hole and still refused to accept the inevitable. Honestly, her stubbornness was downright impressive. “I wouldn’t go that far, Grace. I’m not an expert by any means. But I’ve been around the block a few times.” Cece took a practical approach to things. If she could see it, that shit was happening. If she couldn’t see it, that shit might still be happening. The most important thing was keeping an open mind and always keeping calm. She had usually found that she could get herself out of situations even new to her by keeping her cool. “I can at least point you in the right direction.” As far as the paper airplanes went, Cece hadn’t thought about it much. “Not a clue. Never happened to me at that bar before. My only guess is some kind of teleportation or summoning spell.” Cece shrugged, as if a teleportation spell was the most normal thing in the world, “Can’t say why they were targeting us specifically.” Grace started moving, sliding off of her chair and Cece groaned, rolling her eyes and hopping off of the barstool with her, “Where you think you’re going?”

“Around the block a few times, got it.” Grace nodded, making a grab for her empty glass. She picked it up and pressed it to her cheek, allowing for the glass to cool her skin. She didn’t know what was happening, and it seemed as though the more questions she asked, the more answers she got, or… didn’t necessarily get. It was all very confusing, and Grace had had enough thinking about it-- it was a mistake bringing it up to Cece at all. She wondered silently if Cece would tell Regan. The thought made her stomach turn over. The last thing that she needed was for Regan to know that she lied. “A summoning spell?” Grace asked as she leaned against the table, her elbow digging into the wood as she tried to keep from stumbling over. “There are a lot of spells here, huh?” Why wasn’t she more upset by this? Why wasn’t she questioning Cece, asking her how she knew that this was the cause? She wanted to ask, but hadn’t she seen Winston with her own eyes, blowing the door open, blowing the decedent to pieces? She shook her glass in her hand. “I want another drink, remember?” She motioned for the blonde to follow her to the bar. “I need another drink to get through that conversation, because I can tell you’re telling the truth, or you believe you are, and that makes my head hurt.” She wandered towards the bar without realizing that she may have just outed herself for not being so normal, either. 

“Way more than I know.” Cece agreed with Grace. The number of spells in the world were probably innumerable. There were countless variations to similar spells, and some spells so specific to a certain situation that it would be almost impossible to ever copy them again. But that was a whole mind blow moment that Cece wasn’t sure Grace’s brain could handle much more of at the moment. At least Grace just believed Cece without some show of proof. Cece had no interest in using a spell at a bar. “Oh right of course. You want another drink.” Cece sighed but followed her, “Alternate idea. And trust me I sense the irony coming from me, but we could not drink anymore and get you home. Continue this conversation in a day or two when you don’t feel like you’re dying.” A hangover was unavoidable, but it could always get worse. “You can tell I’m not lying?” Cece questioned out loud. Did that mean Grace was good at telling if people were lying or that she had some sort of sixth sense. Could she even trust anything that the girl was saying. When Grace got to the bar, Cece waved for the bartender’s attention while Grace’s back was turned. Cut her off Cece mouthed to the bartender, swiping her fingers across her neck in show. 

“I don’t feel like I’m dying,” Grace countered back as she looked over her shoulder at Cece. “And weren’t you trying to get Re-- Dr Kavanagh and I to drink with you the last time?” Grace’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t drink often, though.” She paused just before the bar before looking to the bartender who seemed focused on something behind her. Grace cut her gaze back to Cece just in time to see her hand drop to her side. “Oh, you think I'm lush now.” Grace’s voice came out in a whine. “I swear I’m not normally like this, I mean, you saw me--” she folded her arms across her chest and sighed. A shrill laugh from the corner of the bar made Grace wince as a wave of elation washed over her. Grace tried to push it off, but instead, clasped her hands together and gave Cece a broad smile. “One more drink for the road, then I’ll drink no more, besides, I’ve only had two!” She turned back towards the bartender and looked at them with pleading eyes, “One cider. One drink for Cece. She said she’s paying, but I want to pay, because that’s what juniors do.” She grabbed the bartop as she turned and winked at Cece. God, the crowd of bridesmaids was making it hard to be consistent. Normally, Grace had an easier time keeping it from swallowing her whole, but with drinking, it became harder. Though, the headaches were absent, so at least she had alcohol to thank for that. 

“I’ll never give up on my attempts to get Regan to drink with me. Someday, Grace. Someday.” Cece stared off into the void, wondering how likely it was that her dreams would ever come true. Not very, most likely. But that wouldn’t stop Cece from trying. “I’m just looking out for future Grace, no judgement here. I’ve had more drunken nights than I could even begin to count.” Cece shrugged, the bartender glancing between the two and Cece shrugging and waving them off. Grace was an adult, if she wanted to keep drinking, Cece wasn’t going to hold her back. At least she’d be there to mostly keep her holding onto reality. “Fine. You pay, I’ll just sit here and look pretty.” Cece leaned against the countertop and watched Grace. Had it really only been two drinks? Damn, this girl was a lightweight. “Regan’s going to kill me if I break her new employee.”

“Future Grace will have to deal with her decisions,” Grace said matter-of-factly. It was like she was a whole new person, albeit it was the alcohol mixing in with whatever else was going on in the bar. She paid the bartender in a 20 dollar bill after telling him to keep the change. She twisted to look at Cece as they waited for their order, “I won’t be broken, I can’t be broken.” She shook her head. She hadn’t experienced any harsh physical traumas, but her mind sure had, and she wasn’t sure if there was much more to break, albeit, this town sure was trying. “Besides, I can take care of myself.” She nodded as if to reinforce this before she grabbed her cider that was placed down in front of her. “I hope you like cider, because I forgot what you ordered before.” She frowned. “It’s good though, not sweet.” She raised it to her lips and let out a satisfied lip smack before she touched Cece’s elbow to motion her back to the table. “So,” Grace said after she set her glass down, “you are nice, I am nice, but does Regan hate me, do you think?” 

“You know, I love the attitude honestly.” Cece had to admit that she didn’t have a good argument against Grace putting her problems off on future Grace. How could Cece argue against it when she had made the same exact declarations hundreds of times before this? That would just be disrespectful, hypocritical even. Cece was nothing if not a hypocrite. That being said, she was totally warning Regan that she had tried to put a stop to this. She just knew that she was going to end up falling under the blame for tonight. Sure, pick on the girl always asking for people to grab drinks with her. “I know you can. I never doubted that for a second.” Right now? Cece wasn’t convinced Grace could take care of a stuffed animal, let alone herself. A balloon could probably knock her over. “I’ll drink anything sent my way.” And usually that would have been true if Cece hadn’t realized how big of a lightweight Grace was. Clearly, Cece needed to help the girl build some tolerance so they could have some truly fun nights out. “No, Regan doesn’t hate you. She treats everyone that works for her like that.” It was a funny detour in their regular conversation. Apparently, Grace had some doubts about whether or not her boss approved of her work. “She loves hugs though. Maybe you should try being more affectionate. Make the bond grow a little closer.” Would drunk Grace even remember this conversation? Probably not. But on the off chance that she did and that Grace actually believed her, this would totally pay off eventually. 

Grace was glad that the conversation had shifted from what happened at the morgue to… well, whatever this was. It made things easier, made it so Grace didn’t trip over her words, only to spill all of the secrets she’s tucked underneath her tongue. She knows what she looks like, she can see it in Cece’s eyes-- concern drifted off of her, but Grace ignores it, tries to focus on having fun for once, because what had happened, it had hit her hard, and she still wasn’t sure she was okay enough to deal with it sober. While she believed what she saw, it was still a hard pill to swallow. “Hugs?” Grace asked as she looked at Cece over her glass. She lifted it to her lips, the tanginess of the drink coated her tongue. She didn’t think Cece was being genuine, but she didn’t question it. “That doesn’t seem right.” Grace tilted her head to the side, “but I’m glad to know that she doesn’t hate me, I was worried.” She frowned, “she just feels serious all the time, so maybe…” Grace shrugged, “Maybe I’m looking too far into it.” It’d be possible, she almost always was. It didn’t help that she could typically tell how people felt about her right off the bat. 

“Bonkers right?” Cece shrugged, playing nonchalant. “She doesn’t seem like the hugging type, I know. Looks can be deceiving.” Cece would give just about anything for Grace to randomly give Regan a hug at work. Cece could picture the look on Regan’s face, the mere thought bringing a smile to her face. “I’ve been trying to get Regan to loosen up since I got there, so if you have any luck you must be some sort of miracle worker.” Regan kept things way too serious, her rule against befriending coworkers a real damper on Cece’s fun. Work was always more bearable when she could have a laugh with her work friends. Hard to do when Regan was so adamantly against the idea of work friends. “My advice? Just keep your head low for a while with Regan. Once she gets used to the new addition to the group she’ll start throwing compliments your way. After that you know you’re on her good side.” Cece downed the rest of her cider in one gulp and slid the empty glass away, “I think it’s almost quitting time. You gonna finish that so we can get you home?” “I don’t think I’ll have any luck,” Grace admitted. Maybe it was the sudden somber tone from the bridal party, the woman crying due to the realization that her life was over. She wondered why she thought that. She looked at Cece, “I’m just Grace.” She smiled at her, maybe a little too sweetly, before picking up her glass and taking another drink. “I don’t mind not getting compliments…” Grace thought for a moment, “but I don’t like not being liked, but at the same time…” She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked down at her glass, then at Cece’s, which was entirely gone. She frowned slightly. “I don’t know if I can do that, but,” Grace tried to mimic the way that Cece downed her glass, but cider pooled at the corners of her lips. Grace was forced to pull the glass away and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Oh, that’s a buzz.” Grace nodded to herself as she tipped the glass again, finally emptying the contents. “I did it.” She looked at Cece triumphantly, her worries about Regan, the reanimated corpse, Winston, everything lost with the sweetness of her drink.

[curiousstrawberry]

otp tag

i was tagged by @bitterotter and i think @impossible-rat-babies thank you <33

I’m gonna tag @dep-yo-tee @moon-sugar @atomirotta @dorkousloris and anyone else who wants to do this consider yourself tagged (also feel no oblagation to do this) 

Also otp of choice is Adam and Desideria because why not 

DISAGREEMENTS.

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

·         Ah that’s difficult... both of them are short tempered and equally likely to raise their voice but it’s very short lived and they will apologize, or at least try to. This also comes from both of them being stubborn and not realizing their feelings. I think deeper in relationship this is not an issue at all and only fights would be more related and likely without raised voices.  

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

·         No threatening of leaving, just leaving for a moment if it gets too much.

who actually keeps their word and leaves?

·         Again, if it gets too much either leaves to cool down for a moment. Usually it’s Adam who needs more cool down time, but they are pretty on par with that.

who trashes the house?

·         Nope, if you don’t count accidentally smashing some furniture due to emotional constipation

Rest is bellow cut because it’s very long and contains adult stuff 

do either of them get physical?

·         NOPE

how often do they argue/disagree?

·         Ah well, it’s not really disagreements or arguments more like different opinions on things and challenging each other, which does happen quite often especially when it’s work related. But they respect each other’s options, even if they disagree with it.

who is the first to apologize?

·         Neither is really good at apologizing, both of them are really stubborn but they do always apologize. I think Des is likely to apologize first but not by much

SEX.

who is on top? Who is on bottom?

·         Depends on mood I guess? Neither mind switching.

any kinks?

·         Not sure about Adam but Des is lot into praising and hair pulling.

who has the strangest desires?

·         I mean I wouldn’t say either of them do? I think Des is likely to try new stuff though

who’s dominant in bed?

·         Adam is, it’s likely difficult to leave someone else the reigns even in the bed. Des is mostly fine with it, but they do switch things around.

is head ever in the equation?

·         Yup, Des is more for giving than receiving but yeah.

if so, who is better at performing it?

·         Likely Adam? He’s likely more experienced so let’s go with that.

ever had sex in public?

·         Ah I don’t think either would be very comfortable with that.

who moans the most?

·         I think both of them are kinda same level of noisy or well not as noisy. I do entertain the idea of Adam being louder though.

who leaves the most marks?

·         Des, or well she’d love to

who is the more experienced of the two?

·         Adam? This one is difficult. I’d say that with Adam not being with anyone since he was turned makes them about equal way experienced?

do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

·         make love duh

how long do they usually last?

·         Average?

rough or soft?

·         Hmmm, soft. I mean rough too sometimes too but usually it’s all about intimate touches and kisses and just being able to explore each other and be near each other than the actual sex itself.

is protection used?

·         Yup, better be safe than sorry.

does it ever get boring?

·         Not likely no. I think neither of them really essentially needs to have sex so this is not an issue.

where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

·         Hah nothing very extreme I’d say. Really no idea. Likely Des’s room at the warehouse? Really nothing that strange

FAMILY.

Do they plan on having children/or have children?

·         Des isn’t very into the idea of having children. Like she won’t say no, she would have to think about it very hard and it would be far in the future but for now it’s very strong no. It has lot to do with her childhood and with her mental health she doesn’t want anyone else to be introduced to that, especially not child.

If so, how many children do they want/have?

AFFECTION.

who likes to cuddle?

·         Well, Des is touch averse but once she gets comfortable with someone (she cares about) she’s cuddle monster

who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

·         Neither? They are boring like that.

who struggles to keep their hands to themself?

·         I think Adam later in relationship will have trouble with keeping hands to himself in terms of I’ve been touch starved for 900 years and now I met my soulmate.

how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

·         Depends, likely if they watch some movie or something they do keep close

what is their favourite non-sexual activity?

·         Believe it or not but combat training. They both have a lot of fun with that, well Des does later when she knows what’s up more. Also quiet night watching some old movies or reading a book and just being near each other is something they really do enjoy.

where is their favourite place to cuddle?

·         Bed or couch

SLEEPING.

who snores?

·         Neither. Though idea of Adam snoring is hilarious

if both do, who snores the loudest?

do they share a bed or sleep separately?

·         When Des is in warehouse or Adam visiting her they do share bed, but they do not live together at the moment (who knows if they will)

if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

·         Likely fall asleep being close to each other but not really like entangled limbs or anything,

what do they wear to bed?

·         Hah literally no idea what would Adam wear hmmm, I could imagine him in some pajama pants? Des is likely to wear some large shirt (she will absolutely steal Adam’s shirt)

are either of them insomniacs?

·         Don’t think so? Adam just doesn’t need much sleep and Des has bad sleeping habits.

can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

·         Nope, no pills at all for Des unless she absolutely has to.

do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

·         Side by side, holding hands, Des curled to Adam’s side but nothing that would invade each other’s space too much.

who wakes up with bed hair?

·         Des

who wakes up first?

·         Adam, I mean he doesn’t need as much sleep so there’s that.

who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

·         Adam doesn’t really eat so there’s not much preparing stuff for him but he does make Des coffee or tea.

what is their favourite sleeping position?

·         When Des is alone she sleeps on her stomach, head buried in too many pillows. When she’s with Adam she’s usually curled to his side, hand thrown over his stomach, him wrapping arm around her.

do they set an alarm each night?

·         Lol Des has like six of them neither works.

who has nightmares?

·         I guess both but Des does more. And no she would not like to talk about it she’s fine.

can a television be found in their bedroom?

·         Nope.

who has ridiculous dreams?

·         Neither? For Des it’s usually realistic flashes rather than something completely ridiculous.

who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

·         Des

who makes the bed?

·         Adam

what time is bed time?

·         Hmmmmmm I mean after work is done? When Des feels like she’s tired? Usually around midnight and later

any routines/rituals before bed?

·         The usual brushing teeth etc. Des pulls her hair into a bun or braids it because there’s lot of hair and it’s not fun when someone lies on it.

who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

·         Des, she really is top grump in morning. Adam thinks it’s cute but won’t admit it.

WORK.

who is the busiest?

·         I’d say Adam, not that Des isn’t but you know he’s more workaholic type

who rakes in the highest income?

·         Likely Adam

are any of them unemployed?

·         Nope

who takes the most sick days?

·         Des does. Some days are just too much you know.

what are their jobs?

·         Des is a detective. Adam works for the Agency

who sucks up to their boss?

·         Hahaha Adam would I think? Or well is more candidate anyway. Des doesn’t know what respect for authority is. She’s not an outright dick but you gotta earn the respect she won’t suck up to anyone.

·         who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Des, even with the amount of alarms she has set, she’s not a morning person.

who stresses the most?

·         Des does, but she won’t let it show

do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

·         I think Adam enjoys what he’s doing. As for Des.. it works?

are they financially stable?

·         Yes

HOME.

who does the washing?

·         Both

who takes out the trash?

·         both

who does the ironing?

·         Des does iron her own clothes... or well folds it well so she doesn’t have to iron it later.

who does the cooking

·         Des does but she hates cooking even if she’s not bad at it. She’d rather order take out.

who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

·         Neither, but I can’t imagine Adam cooking.

who is messier?

·         Des by default since Adam seems like neat freak

who leaves the toilet roll empty?

·         Neither

who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

·         Des

who forgets to flush the toilet?

·         Gross neither

who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

·         Des does, she puts them somewhere and then forgets. Actually happens quite often.

who answers the telephone?

·         They use cell phones only and each has their own.

who mows the lawn?

·         No lawn.

who does the vacuuming?

·         I mean if they would live together then both.

who does the groceries?

·         Des, though she would drag Adam along to carry bags

who takes the longest to shower?

·         Des does

who spends the most time in the bathroom?

·         Again Des,  with the amount of hair she’s bound to.

MISCELLANEOUS.

is money a problem?

·         Nope

how many cars do they own?

·         Des’ very old seems to be falling apart car

what’s their song?

·         Hah I return to this later no idea for now

do they live in the city or in the country?

·         Wayhaven strikes me like smaller town?

do they own their home or do they rent?

·         Des’ rents her apartment, Adam lives in the Agency’s warehouse

do they enjoy their surroundings?

·         Des is very fine with the small town environment, not lot of people. Adam doesn’t seem to be enjoying it as much.

what do they do when they’re away from each other?

·         Work, think about each other, Des might even text Adam, but yeah work is usually at the first place

where did they first meet?

·         At work, introduced by Des’ mom, best and worst day of Adam’s life likely lol

who spends the most money when out shopping?

·         Des would

who’s more likely to flash their assets?

·         Neither

any mental issues?

·         Hah, Des has problems with depression and anxiety, is generally touch averse (though not sure that counts here), and now adding trauma with kidnapping and being experimented on... so that’s fun

who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

·         Neither. I mean in theory Des would but I cant see Adam trip over

who’s terrified of bugs?

·         Not terrified but Des isn’t a fan

who kills the spiders around the house?

·         Not kill but Des will ask Adam to relocate them, she would do so herself but if Adam is there well less anxiety.

do they have any fears for their future?

·         Hahaha well there’s the whole mortality thing that I think Adam thinks constantly about. Des is generally anxious about future but again won’t let it show.

their favourite place?

·         Hmmm no idea? But it could be the way from the station to Des’ apartment since I imagine Adam often walks her home.

who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

·         Eh no fancy.

who pays the bills?

·         Each pays their own bills, if they’d live together they’d split

who’s the tallest

·         Adam is, but actually not by lot as Des is relatively tall

who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

·         Hmmm Des? But she would ask before

who wanders around in their underwear?

·         Des does, especially in summer, might give Adam a stroke

who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

·         Neither, Des does occasionally hums along

what do they tease each other about?

·         They don’t really? like Des knows how touch and emotions are difficult for Adam so she won’t tease him about that. Maybe when he tries to show off she would.

who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

·         I mean cargo pants so....

who crushed first?

·         Hah Adam does. Des is more like ?????!!!!

any alcohol or substance related problems?

·         Nope, unless you count candy and sweets addiction

who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

·         Des doesn’t drink and Adam likely cannot get drunk

who swears the most?

·         Des does swear a lot once she’s outside station.

[simonxriley]

OTP Question Meme!

I was tagged by the wonderful @nightwingshero​ Thank you! 💜

Tagging @xqueengrimmrux​ @chuckhansen​ @r6shippingdelivery​ @cameoninja​ and anyone else who wants to do it! This is pretty long so no obligation.  

Alexsandr “Tachanka” Senaviev x Skylar “Phoenix” Jackson

DISAGREEMENTS

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Tachanka, cause he’s a loud man anyways lol.He does apologize right after though.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Neither. 

Who trashes the house? Tachanka. It wasn’t out of an argument or anything like that, it was after Skylar got hurt during the Outbreak. 

Do either of them get physical? Never. They would never stoop so low and Tachanka would never do such a thing knowing her past. 

How often do they argue/disagree? Not that often, they bicker more than anything. 

Who is the first to apologize? Whoever started the argument or was in the wrong. 

SEX

Who is on top? They switch. It mostly depends on Skylar’s mood since she can have flashbacks and go into a full blown PTSD episode when having sex/if Tachanka is on top. 

Who is on bottom? Same as above. 

Who has the strangest desires? Neither. 

Any kinks? Mostly dirty talk.

Who’s dominate in bed? They both are and they tend to fool around and see who can ‘win’. 

Is head ever in the equation? Yes. 

If so, who is better at performing it? Tachanka, since he does it more. 

Ever had sex in public? They did have sex one time in Tachanka’s car, near a park after a date. 

Who moans the most? Skylar.

Who leaves the most marks? Tachanka, most of them are hidden. 

Who is the most experienced of the two? Tachanka.

Do they ’fuck’ or ‘make love’? Make love. After what Shy’s been through, rough sex is out of the question. 

Rough or soft? Soft. 

How long do they usually last? All depends on the day and how high their stamina is. On a good night they could go 2-3 rounds with a small break in-between. 

Is protection used? Yes, Skylar is on birth control and Tachanka uses condoms. 

Does it ever get boring? Nope. 

Where is the strangest place where they’d had sex? All the places they’ve has sex is pretty normal. 

FAMILY

Do they plan on having children/ have children? Yes. 

If so, how many children to they want/have? They have eight (8). Grace, fraternal twins Marianna and Konstantin, Grayson, Lubov, Apollo and fraternal twins Lizaveta and Vera. 

AFFECTION

Who likes to cuddle? Both do.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate places? Tachanka. He does it more cause he likes to see Skylar get flustered. 

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Both, more so Tachanka. 

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Maybe an hour. Skylar tends to get uncomfortable the most and needs to stretch. Blame past injuries. 

Who gives the most kisses? This is a tie. They both give the most kisses. 

What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Just spending time together, that’s the most important thing. It doesn’t matter what they do, as long as they’re together than everything is fine. 

Where is their favorite place to cuddle? Their bed or couch. 

How often do they get time to themselves? Everyday actually. Besides training, working on their gadgets, and the occasional mission. They tend to have a lot of free time. 

SLEEPING 

Who snores? Tachanka. Their soft snores. 

If both do, who snores the loudest? N/A.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? They share.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay separately? They cozy up together, it becomes an automatic thing for them. 

What do they wear to bed? Skylar will wear shorts/or her underwear and one of his shirts. Tachanka will just stay in his boxers, maybe he’ll wear some pajama pants if it gets cold. 

Are either of them insomniacs? Skylar is. Sometimes Tachanka. 

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Yes, at least until the kids arrived and they moved them to the medicine cabinet in their bathroom. 

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? They wrap their limbs around each other. Skylar kinda becomes a koala. 

Who wakes up with bed hair? Skylar. 

Who wakes up first? Tachanka. 

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Tachanka. He’s normally awake first and it become more of a thing when Sky was recovering from her injury and was on bedrest. 

What is their favorite sleeping position? On their side, Skylar’s back to his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist (hand might be holding a tiddy). 

Do they set an alarm each night? Unfortunately yes, due to work. 

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yes. 

Who has nightmares? They both do, but more so Skylar. 

Who has ridiculous dreams? TBD

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Tachanka, until Sky tells him to move so she can get into bed. 

Who makes the bed? Both, they take turns. 

Any routines/rituals before bed? Besides the normal brush their teeth and wash their faces, Skylar likes to take a relaxing bath with some music playing. Tachanka doesn’t really have one besides joining her in said bath.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Neither. 

WORK

Who is the busiest? Tachanka, he takes on a little bit more being one of the oldest in Rainbow. 

Who rakes in the highest income? N/A

Are any of them unemployed? Nope.

Who takes the most sick days? Skylar

Who is more likely to turn up late for work? Tachanka. His kotyonok needs him. 

Who sucks up to their boss? Neither.

What are their jobs? They both work for the counter-terrorism group Rainbow. 

Who stresses the most? Both, but at times Skylar does more. 

Are they financially stable? Yeah, I would say so. I mean they can live comfortably with eight kids. 

HOME

Who does the washing? Skylar. Sometimes Tachanka will too, depending on how chaotic their home is. 

Who takes out the trash? Tachanka. 

Who does the ironing? Both do. Military life has made it ingrained in them to iron more, since their uniforms (at least Skylar’s) had to be in pristine form. 

Who does the cooking? Both, they switch every day or they might cook together. 

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Neither, both of them are good cooks. 

Who is messier? Skylar.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Neither of them.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Both of them. It’s only for the night and they tend to pick it up in the morning. 

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither. 

Who is the prankster around the house? TBD

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Skylar, she’s always misplacing the car keys. So much so that Tachanka made a few spare copies and holds onto them just for this occasion. 

Who mows the lawn? Tachanka, he does most of the yard work.

Who answers the telephone? Both, it pretty much goes to whoever is closest. 

Who does the vacuuming? Skylar. She’s more keen on doing it, and does it at least once a week. 

Who does the groceries? They both do. 

Who takes the longest to shower? Skylar. She has more things to do than Tachanka does. 

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Skylar. 

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? Nope. 

How many cars do they own? They have three (3). One to accommodate the whole family and two smaller ones. 

Do they own their home or do they rent? Both. They rent their home in Hereford and own their homes in Maine and ST Petersburg. 

Do they live in the city or in the country? City. But Skylar would love to move out into the countryside. Give the kids more room to run around. 

Do they enjoy their surroundings? For the most part. 

What’s their song? Nobody But You - Blake Shelton Ft Gwen Stefani

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Skylar will tend to the kids, clean the house or work on some of her art when Tachanka is away. He’ll work on his LMG, tend to the kids and do some chores around the house. 

Where did they first meet? In Hereford, on base. 

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Skylar, hands down. She likes to shop and she can be kind of an impulse buyer. 

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Neither. 

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Skylar. There’s something so amusing seeing a guy like Tachanka trip over something. 

Any mental issues? Yes. Both of them have PTSD and Skylar has depression and anxiety. 

Who’s terrified of bugs? Skylar, a little bit. 

Who kills the spiders around the house? Tachanka.

Their favorite place? Their home. 

Who pays the bills? Both. 

Do they have any fears for their future? Losing the other during a mission. It’s the one thing they can’t control, that one of them could potentially die. 

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Tachanka. He likes surprising Skylar with a fancy dinner every now and then. 

Who’s the tallest? Tachanka. He’s 6′0″ while Skylar is 5′4″.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Both, but mostly Tachanka. 

Who wanders around in their underwear? Skylar. She tends to walk around in her underwear and a tank top. 

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Skylar. She likes to sing.

What do they tease each other about? Skylar like to tease Tachanka about how smitten he is with her. It’s cute and she never though she could get someone to ever be smitten over her. Tachanka likes to tease Skylar over baby voice when she talks to animals. It’s cute to him nonetheless and he finds it even more adorable with her reaction to it. 

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Neither. 

Who crushed first? Tachanka. 

Any alcohol or substance related problems? Nope. 

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Tachanka, when out with the rest of the boys. 

Who swears the most? Tachanka, in Russian though. 

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations, DEL! You’ve been accepted as IO.

Del, I didn’t want to stop reading your app, and honestly? I’m a little mad that it had to end. But that makes me all the more excited to see you continue Cain’s journey on the dash! When it came to Cain’s bio, I really felt that you nailed the dichotomy between healing and hurting that was central to his skeleton. I especially loved the way he saw his abilities as curse-like at first, and how he’s been able to separate what his hands can do versus what they want to do. If Cain punched me, I’d thank him.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information: 

NAME/ALIAS: Del.

PRONOUNS: they/them

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: HST. Tbh about a 7...maybe a 6. I'm in classes and a full time internship so I can be a bit slow but I always try to keep my activity up as best as I can!

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: CAIN

GENDER/PRONOUNS: he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: 

So when I was reading some tips for Cain I accidentally misread it as “fists born to heal” and I really ran with that idea for a hot minute and a half. 

For me, Cain is like a baseball bat to the face. He's blunt and brutal and effective. He isn't interested in politics or the nuanced exchange of power and intrigue that weave through the city like a web. He's a simple man. He has simple desires. He wants to hit stuff that pisses him off. He wants to protect the people he cares about. Thats the entire reason he sticks with the Jem Family, because being a mutant fucking sucks and that's society's fault, so fuck society. 

I really want a Cain who is very straightforward. If some people are...layered ...like onions, then Cain is the type of person who’s more like a rock. Try to peel back his layers and you will accomplish only two things: 1) fucking up your hands real bad, and 2) realizing that there’s nothing underneath. With Cain, what you see is what you get. And what you get is a man who is perpetually angry and probably wants to fight you.

He is aggressive and he is angry at both a micro and a macro level and he is willing to shake the city down the bedrock if that’s what it will take to beat some sense into people. He’s not interested in maintaining peace or compliance as tensions in the city rise higher and higher. He doesn’t want to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt but he’s willing to do what he needs to do (though I think it’ll be interesting as conflicts and events arise to explore how willing Cain actually is to make sacrifices and see collateral damage happen). Cain wants to see the world change and he doesn’t mind if it burns a little first. I fully believe that he’ll be a big mover and shaker and shit instigator. 

BIOGRAPHY:

The anger is with him all along.

It's a cyclical kind of story. His father’s father meets some poor woman, makes a baby with her, and leaves. Over two decades later his father does the same thing. This time he clears out their joint bank account before he disappears. 

Cain hates his grandfather and his father. He hates that part of them is part of him, buried in his blood and his bones. They ruin his life and neither of them stick around to see it happen. The older he gets the more of his father he will see in the mirror, and the angrier he will become. 

His ma is a good woman. She is a good mother. She doesn’t deserve to be married to his deadbeat, chickenshit father. 

Cain adores her. She does her best. She doesn't complain when his father leaves, she doesn't even resent him for being such a shitty husband. When it becomes clear that his time out on the road is the type of time out on the road that never ends, she just sighs a deep, sad sigh from the middle of her chest. Cain will always remember that sigh, the way it sounds. It is like a reverse Pandora's box' all the hope emptying out of her at once and leaving only the bad shit behind.

She has a kid to raise and she does it without complaint. She works herself to the bone to keep him warm and keep him fed. She cleans for a living. The work is hard and the pay is shit. The hours are long.  Cain spends a lot of nights waiting for her to come home. She comes back sore and tired and aching. Sometimes she is barely able to stand. Cain learns how to help as quickly as he can. Maybe this is where the healing starts; him and his mother, his hands running over her back, knuckles digging into the knots of tight, angry, wrong, and digging into them until they slowly break apart. 

All of the cards are stacked against him as a kid. for most of his childhood he is a shrimp with no father. He is a dirt poor. His mother works all of the time. He's not that smart and he's not that friendly. He is at the very bottom of a very long social  food chain. He gets into fights often and he is destined to lose most of them. A lot of his time is spent getting hit. He uses up the rest crying, hot angry tears in his room, alone. He makes few friends. As soon as he's old enough to fake fourteen, and even a little before that, he works. He rides newspaper routes and scrubs dishes and fixes cars and mows lawns and does anything anybody tells him to as long as it will get him paid.

There's no magical thirteenth year for Cain. He never goes away for summer and comes back gigantic. Growing up is a slow, laborious process that ticks by in centimeters and inches. There's a time where he's small and scrawny and always picking fights and always losing them. Then he starts losing them less. Eventually he isn't losing any at all. His bullies start to look small and scrawny themselves and they start to leave him alone unless there's enough of them that they think they can all gang up on him at once, but after awhile even those fights are ones that Cain can win. 

That’s about when he starts to get paid to fight. This time he gets to fight in a ring. He’ll never get his chance at becoming a boxer or some MMA jackass but he’ll come pretty close. There’s no star power in Cain. He’s an angry, ragged son of a bitch. He’s got the charisma of a fly. People don’t like him much on principal. No one is ever glad to see him win a fight except maybe his mother. But you don’t have to be well liked to win, and Cain does win. He wins a lot. Eventually people start to show up to watch him fight.

That’s how he finds his father again.

Chicago is a big city. It's the kind of place where you can meet someone and never see them again for a decade, maybe two if you didn't get out much.

He’s just finished a fight in some seedy arena on the west side of town. He’s won in a single, brutal knock out and some people are excited about that but most people are pissed off that there wasn’t more of a show. Cain’s ignoring whatever the fuck people are yelling at him and Cain is just tryign to leave so he can peel of his dumbass shorts in the bathroom and go home.

And there’s a man in the crowd in front of him. He’s staring at him. Cain stares back.

He is older than Cain remembers, and he is shabbier. There’s a beer gut where there wasn’t one before and his arms are thinner. His face is lined with wrinkles and his teeth are yellow. A few are missing. If Cain were anyone else he might not recognize him

But a boy always knows his father and a man always remembers someone he hates.

This is what he remembers in that moment as his hands curl up into fists. He is a kid. He is watching his mama make some calls. She’s asking around to see if anyone has seen his father. He knows what she knows but refuses to admit. No one has seen him. No one has heard from him in days. He is gone and he is not coming back. 

Eventually she dials that bank. Cain isn’t really sure what she’s talking about but he knows that it’s not good. His mother’s face goes pale and her lips go tight and thin and she nods along to whatever the man on the other line is saying even though it’s clear she’s not listening to him anymore.

She says her goodbyes in a tight, polite voice. It only shakes a little at the very end. Then she hangs up and she sighs that sigh. It’s going to stay with him all his life. His father leaving doesn’t destroy his mother. It just hollows her out. That’s worse in Cain’s opinion. 

He is only 12. But even 12 year olds can want to kill people. He swears that if he ever sees his daddy again, he’s going to beat him dead. 

In 15 years the anger is still there, pure and white hot. It will always be there. It will always be waiting. 

He jumps out of the ring in one easy lunge and then he’s on top of his dad. He’s punching him in the face. The man spits blood and broken teeth. Cain is hitting him again and again and again and again. His hands feel hot, unnaturally so, like something other than his own blood is heating them up from the inside. Beneath him his father bleeds and spits out more teeth and groans and still Cain beats him. No amount of beating will ever be enough for him and he knows this. He knows he’s going to murder his father on this floor and he knows it will make his mother cry. He hates that these things are going to happen and he accepts them anyway. This is what needs to be done. This is what his father deserves. 

He grips his father’s head in his hot, hot hands and he spits in his face. 

It takes six guys to drag Cain off of his father. There aren’t enough inside the bar to do it. He knocks three out when they try. But eventually the police show up and there are enough of them. Cain is a big guy and he’s strong and he’s tough but even big strong, tough guys don’t do well when they get tazed. 

They drag him outside and they shove him into a cop car and the last thing Cain sees of his father is a man, covered in blood, pulling himself off the floor with shaking arms. 

He disappears before anyone has a chance to ask if he wants to press charges. Cain isn’t surprised.

Three aggravated assault and battery charges are enough to put him away for a long time, though. The sentencing is actually lighter than what he expects. Weirdly enough, despite the bloody crime scene and Cain’s size and all the witnesses who were sure they saw Cain beating his father to death, there’s no serious injuries to speak of. He hears down the legal grapevine that his father walked away that night, and that the guys who tried to pull him off didn’t even need trips to the hospital. Cain had bloodied their noses but somehow neither of them were broken. Miraculously, his public defender tells him. They all claim that they’re feeling better than ever.

Cain sits and listens to him. There’s a tick in his jaw that won’t go away, an angry jump of muscle as he grinds his teeth.

His mother does cry when he’s sentenced. He’s not happy to see that. 

When he’s back in his cell, alone, he drives his fist into the wall hard enough to split the skin of his knuckles

His hands feel hot. His knuckles hurt but they stop hurting very quickly. When Cain turns them over to see, he watches his skin knit slowly back together, closing over the open wound until it looks as if there were never a wound there at all. Cain stares. He swallows. He hits the wall again, hard, in the same place. He watches blood drip from his hand and then he watches the dripping stop. The same thing happens again. 

Oh, he thinks to himself. Oh fuck. 

Prison is a lot like being a kid again, except his mother isn’t there to comfort him when he gets into fights or when he crawls into his bed to bleed. Everyone wants to get a piece of the new guy, especially since half the time somebody gets into a fight with Cain, none of their injuries ever really seem to take. Cain puts his hands on them. He lays them out and he holds them down and he hits them again and again and again and  they hurt and they bleed and they get back up afterwards feeling fine.

He hates his powers at first. He wants to be able to beat the shit out of people the same way he has for years but the moment to hands get hot it's over. Nothing he does is really going to hurt his opponent. Sometimes they leave the fights looking better than when they came in.

 It doesn't take long for his prison mates to learn what he is. It doesn't take much longer for the warden to get wind of it too. 

And that is how Cain Douglas finds himself moved from Cook Corrections to Hornsbury Prison for mutants. 

If Cook Corrections was prison then Hornsbury is something below it, something sub-prison where men and women aren't allowed to feel even the slightest bit human. It's the type of place that’s not even trying to pretend it's here to fix you. It's here to break you and it wants you to know it's here to break you, all that guards, all the wardens, and most of the prisoners all want you to know you're here to be broken. 

He's roughed up by a couple guards in the first week. Thanks to his power not much of what they do to him manages to stick, but not much of what he does to them manages to stick either.

After that they just throw him in the hole for insubordination. It's cold in that dark, empty concrete room. It smells of the piss and fear sweat of the last guy they had in there. 

He spends a lot of time in that hole. He will never admit it to anyone. But sometimes he is afraid he will die in there, all alone.

He gets out eventually. Maybe it is for good behavior. Maybe it’s because people realize that Cain can win fights but he can never end them. His hands are harmless and by extension, so is he. 

There’s no job waiting for him when he gets out. He’s just spent five years in prison. Two of them were in Hornsbury. Everyone in his part of town knows about what he did to his father and worse, they know that he’s a mutant.

The first night Cain spends back in his home, someone sets fire to his mother’s front lawn. 

He packs up and leaves the next day. He loves his mother. This will always be true. But he won’t stick around her if it puts her at risk. 

And then there’s really nowhere for him to go but the Jem Family. He’s heard of them, before prison, but he never cared about it before becoming a mutant. He doesn’t care much about it when he first arrives either. It could have been any gang as they gave him a warm place to sleep and some food to eat. Cain isn’t picky. Unfortunately the Jem Family and Damien have a way of creeping under his skin. They’re good people. They care about people, about mutants. And they care about Cain, which more than he can say for just about everyone else in Chicago except for his mother. They give him food to eat and a place to sleep and pay him money he can send to his mother every month. 

They help him learn how to control his powers. They give him back a part of himself he thought was lost forever. Thanks to the Jem Family, he gets to decide what, when and who he’s healing. He also gets to decide what and when and who he’s hurting and honestly, he’s a little more thankful for that than the former. He starts to be happy that his power is what it is. He gets to help people that he cares about. He starts to care about helping people at all.

It was easy not to care about mutants when he wasn’t one. It was easy to ignore the way they were treated. 

But that’s not something Cain has the luxury of doing anymore. He sees how much people hate them. How afraid they are. He’s seen it in the scorch marks on his mother’s lawn, and in Hornsbury. He sees it now more than ever as everyone in the city starts to pick a side. It pisses him the fuck off. 

This city has needed the shit kicked out of it for a long fucking time and with the gan’s finally uniting, now is as good a time as any to land the first blow. 

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS: 

DANA RAMONE,

HE IS JEALOUS. He’s learned to appreciate his power but that by no means means that Cain like, likes being a healer. He’d much rather have something crazy and violent and powerful to use and he would definitely be kinda salty at Dana depending on their attitude towards their power. I also think it’d be neat to explore (mun willing of course) how he feels about her lack of control because he’s struggled with that before. If there’s a warmer relationship between them I can totally see Cain maybe trying to work them with them on control because he knows what it’s like to always feel a little bit incompetent in your own body. 

But y’know. If they don't’ talk that’s fine by him b-baka.

JACKSON RAEMERS, 

What Cain feels about Jackson is very similar to what an older sibling feels for an annoying younger sibling. He doesn’t want them seriously injured or hurt. He cares about them deep down. But if Cain went a whole week without seeing Jackson it would be the best week of his fucking life. I think Cain would be big on just shaming them for bing such a klutz and if they come in for really superficial injuries may just make them go deal with it themselves.  

LUKE ESPINOSA,

So I read on Luke’s own relationship description that they’d probably totally destroy Cain if they were allowed to use their powers on him. I want Cain to be like, very , very aware of that and totally pissed off by it. He’s not sure what makes him more angry, knowing that Luke thinks he could beat the shit out of him or knowing that it's true. He doesn't like losing. He never has. And he doesn’t like knowing that the only reason he wins against Luke is because Luke is giving him a huge handicap by not using his powers. It makes his blood boil and that definitely comes out in the way he fights with him and just deals with him in general. I’d love it if these two just sniped at each other all the time and def got into all sorts of dumb, non-competitions outside the ring to try and prove who’s the best without bringing powers into it. I’m talking some anime rivalry type shit. 

EXTRA: PINTEREST! NATCH! https://www.pinterest.com/bellydeli/mootants/he-hits-stuff/

[lozenger8]

sciles + 20, please?

(things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear)

Scott’s sitting on the bathroom floor when he receives the texts from his main handler that he’s going to be given a live-in bodyguard. He reads the second message several times. 

Expect at 8. Codeword: Alpha. 

He shouldn’t have told them he thought he’d been followed at the grocery store. But, well, he thought he’d been followed. 

This space he’s carved out for himself over the past week, that he’s resigned himself to, is going to get invaded. Scott’s need for companionship wars with his need to protect himself.

At 8, there’s the sound of the front door opening, key sliding effortlessly in the locks. Scott’s in the kitchen, brandishing two knives. It’s not paranoia if there have already been four attempts on your life. 

The guy - Scott really hopes he’s the new bodyguard - is lanky and, surprisingly, only about Scott’s age, maybe even younger. He has brown eyes and short brown hair and he nods when he assesses Scott and the stance he’s holding.

“Good call, Alpha,” he says. “This job is going to be so much smoother if we’re both watching your back.  I’m Stiles, by the way.”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “Stiles.” He doesn’t say ‘nice to meet you’, like he would have, way back when. He does put the knives back where they belong. “You want something to drink?”

“Coffee please,” Stiles replies, gait becoming more relaxed. “I requisitioned us a Keurig especially. You’re welcome.”

“You knew you’d be sent here?”

“It was always a possibility, yeah. Which reminds me – Scott Delgado, will you marry me?”

Scott splutters, rounds on ‘Stiles’, unable to concentrate on working the machine, “What?”

“It’s our cover. We’re engaged. You came here first to get the house in order. I was on a business trip. But now here we are, together again, sickeningly in love,” Stiles says as he takes over and makes a coffee, slides it over to Scott. He starts the process for his own.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t pretend to love somebody at the snap of your fingers.”

Stiles smirks at him, takes a sip from his own coffee - black, no sugar. “Then I’ll make you love me.”

*

Scott is initially resistant to the idea of ever viewing Stiles as a friendly acquaintance, let alone someone he could actively like and pretend to love, but Stiles has a way of getting under his skin.

Stiles makes breakfast every morning, and every morning his breakfasts are incredible. Fluffy pancakes, apple cinnamon oatmeal, pumpkin spice baked oatmeal, breakfast burritos, huevos rancheros – all freshly cooked and delicious. By the tenth day, Scott’s munching on maple turkey bacon and practically moaning with how good it is.

“Okay, I have to ask, how did you get so good at this?”

“What?”

Scott gestures at the maple turkey bacon, sweet potato hashbrowns and greek yoghurt creamed spinach. “You know what.”

“My dad’s a sheriff of a small town. He’d often do double shifts and I knew he wouldn’t eat well while on the job. I discovered six months in that he’d been ditching my packed lunches. So I’d make sure he’d get as nutritious a meal as possible in the morning, the kind of veggie-packed feast that’d keep him going for hours.”

“Smart. I’m impressed.”

Stiles shrugs. He’s either very good at acting like he loves Scott’s praise, or he lives for those moments when Scott capitulates and openly admires him.

“So you were always destined to be in law enforcement?” Scott asks.

“Maybe, but there was definitely a time when everyone else would’ve said hell no. I was the kid who always got in trouble and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. I almost got arrested five times before I graduated high school. But I guess it was my curiosity kicking in, my need to investigate.”

“My dad’s an FBI agent,” Scott says, then rolls his eyes at himself, because of course Stiles knows this, Stiles knows almost everything there is to know about him because he read it in a file.

But, “Tell me more,” Stiles says, eyes focused and soft, in that way they can be sometimes when looking at Scott, so Scott does, tells him all about it, feels lighter with each word.

*

Their neighbors somehow buy the nearly wed thing, possibly because Stiles is handsy when they’re in public and Scott’s been so touch-starved he enjoys it.  

Scott really likes being under Stiles’ arm as they go grocery shopping, even if he can feel Stiles’ gun holster. He likes when Stiles nudges into his side to ask his opinion on cheese or the freshness of a mango, or whether they should get a particular spice mix. Because Stiles has been making breakfasts, Scott’s been making dinner, and they’re currently in a competition where everyone’s a winner.

Scott likes taking Stiles’ hand in his when they mow the lawn and weed the garden, possibly because Stiles spends half the time complaining about having to do these things. Has pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek when they’ve delivered misdirected mail; as a cover for whispering in his ear, but he still thinks about the blush that settled in the hollows of Stiles’ cheeks and the way his lips parted every time he looked at him the rest of that day. 

Some days they stay home and watch movies and shows. Stiles has been making Scott watch Star Wars, and Scott has been pretending to be grudging about it because it’s hilarious seeing Stiles’ indignant faces. Secretly, he’s wondering how he can persuade Stiles to watch the next one without Stiles realizing that’s what he’s doing. It’s not as hard as he thinks, because Stiles seems to think he’s some kind of Girl Scout - “I’d never call you a Boy Scout because their homophobic asses can get screwed.” Scott’s been making Stiles watch different low-stakes warm-hearted competition shows like The Great British Baking Show and Making It, but Stiles doesn’t even try to complain, is clearly highly entertained. 

But sometimes, they go out and explore the city, because the weather’s nice and while their cover is that they work from home, no one can work every day. 

“What do you think you’ll do, when you get to go back?” Stiles asks him when they’re alone at the top of a steep hill they’ve hiked to, and gazing at the city below them, buildings looking like miniatures used on a film set.

He’s talking about Scott’s real life, the one he’ll hopefully get to return to when the trial is over and Gerard Argent, ruthless crime boss, is put behind bars for life.

“Live with my mom for a while, continue my veterinary degree, tell my friends how much I love them so often they beg me to stop. How about you?”

“I don’t usually get a say in my assignments. This is an anomaly.”

“Wait, you asked for this?”

Stiles gazes off in the distance. “I think you’re really brave, and noble, and kind, and they were contemplating placing Jackson Whittemore with you. Now, I know you only have my word for this, but he’s a whole-ass dick. So, yeah, I asked if they’d place me instead.”

“So I’d only be stuck with a half-ass dick. That’s so sweet of you,” Scott says, knocking into Stiles to lessen the cruelty of his words. Stiles laughs, knocks him back, and they hike until they find a picnic spot so they can eat. 

*

By the time they’ve been together for a month and a half and the trial is only a week away, Scott realizes he considers Stiles his best friend – not only because of proximity – but because he’s shared things with Stiles that he hasn’t shared with anyone else. Stiles is also surprisingly forthcoming in details about his life, which kind of confuses Scott, but Stiles shrugs it off. Scott hasn’t really had a chance to miss Stiles yet, but he can tell he will. 

Scott also realizes he spends too many hours every night imagining what it would be like if he and Stiles shared a bed. He extrapolates from the sounds Stiles makes when he’s eating something delicious (they’re positively pornographic), the look on his face when he’s happy (usually because he’s convinced Scott of something), and how Stiles’ body would feel against his (solid and warm and strong, because although he’s lanky he’s muscular too.)  Scott ensures has long showers when Stiles is out on one of his rare Scott-less chores, brings himself some relief as he pictures Stiles beneath or above him. 

Even though several nerves in his body are screaming at him to be awkward around Stiles after this realization, the rest of him refuses. He’s grateful every time Stiles touches him, lives for those moments when Stiles sweeps him with a once-over, and when they need to show some PDA, he’s ecstatic. 

Scott’s handler comes to visit them two days before the trial is set, to go over the case details with Scott again – which is apparently something Stiles was supposed to do and simply neglected. 

Lydia is friendly, but ultra-professional, and Scott can tell there’s something between Stiles and her that Stiles hasn’t told him about. There’s an easiness there, a knowledge, that goes beyond colleagues. It hurts, in a deep dark part of Scott, because although he’s heard about Stiles’ life – different cases and the people he hangs out with and things he’s thinking about doing when he has time – there’s obviously a lot he’s ignorant of. Like girlfriends. 

Lydia gets a call after an hour of debrief, comes out of the other room looking wide-eyed and even paler than before.

“I’m going to be staying here the next two days.”

“What? Why?” Stiles asks, eyes narrowed.

“Our other witness has been compromised. He was shot in the leg,” Lydia says, matter-of-factly. “We can’t take any chances.”

“I’ve protected Scott with no issues this entire time. Why do we suddenly need another agent on the job?” Stiles asks, indignation no longer amusing when it’s about a serious situation.

“Because we don’t want Scott to get hurt, or worse, killed, do we Stiles?”

“I would never let anything injure Scott, ever. He’s under my care and my protection.”

Scott doesn’t get the spikiness at all, because the way they talk shows they care deeply for each other. But maybe it’s a protective instinct thing. Scott’s not going to ask, even though he’s fairly confident Stiles would answer.

“Do you like meatloaf?” Scott asks Lydia, to diffuse the tension, to remind them he’s still there.

Lydia looks apologetic. “I’m vegetarian.”

“Scott makes the best tomato and chickpea loaf in the world,” Stiles says. At her questioning look he adds, “We’ve been doing meatless Mondays.”

That evening, Stiles and Lydia go out on the back porch to catch up and Scott begins to pack his meager belongings. Scott keeps his window open to air out his room. He didn’t know he’d be able to hear them, but he does, and even though part of him considers moving into another room, his curiosity gets the better of him. 

He listens as Lydia tells Stiles about different cases she’s worked on the side and Stiles tells her about two suspicious stalkers they’ve had that he’d never told Scott about. Stiles then tells her about the different excursions they went on and movies they watched, and Scott smiles as he remembers the instances Stiles is recounting.

“You’ve really fallen for him, haven’t you?” Lydia says, teasing. 

“Oh God, Lydia, you have no idea.”

“I do. I remember what it’s like when you’re infatuated, first hand.”

“Okay, so you have all the ideas.”

“Will you tell him, when it’s all over?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I should. Scott deserves someone whose life isn’t their job.”

“Your life doesn’t have to be your job, Stiles. That’s how you’ve chosen to be.”

“Yeah, well, maybe. This is assuming he’d be remotely interested.”

Scott sits on his bed as he listens to Lydia chuckle. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. But if it is, I’ll be there for you.”

Scott sucks in several deep breaths, tries to steady his heart.

*

The trial goes for eight days and Scott’s needed for two of them. Seeing Gerard Argent again, even across a crowded courtroom, makes Scott’s blood freeze in his veins. He gives his witness statement and answers cross-examination. It goes well, for a given value of ‘well’. He only trips over his words and stammers twice, at any rate. He’s not the only eye-witness, as despite a gunshot wound in the leg, Danny testifies too. 

In the evening he, Stiles and Lydia find different routes to the safehouse and Scott tries not to mentally replay watching Argent kill three people. 

Stiles cuddles up to Scott on the couch as they watch animated movies to keep Scott’s mind off the whole thing. Scott is more than happy to lean into Stiles’ body and absorb his warmth.

Each day they wait for the other evidence to be relayed, for the jury to deliberate, for the possibility of more murder attempts. If there is another attempt, Stiles and Lydia thwart it together and don’t tell Scott, which Scott might’ve hated once upon a time, but he’s now supremely thankful for it.

The morning after a guilty verdict is rendered and Scott hears Argent is once again behind bars is one of the best mornings of Scott’s life. Lydia congratulates him, then catches a ride back to HQ because “There’s so much paperwork, and Stiles cannot be trusted to do his fair share.” She gives Scott a small smile as he helps her put the suitcase full of clothes she bought in the trunk of the Uber, tells him to take care. 

Even though they’ve packed nearly everything up, Stiles makes Scott waffles with blueberries, syrup and cream. 

“So you were right,” Scott says, his heart drumming a persistent rhythm in his throat. 

“I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

“No. About what you said in the beginning. When we first met,” Scott says. Stiles frowns at him, opens his mouth to interject again, but Scott gets there first. “You made me love you.”

Stiles gives him that steady, gentle look Scott’s only ever seen him use with him. “You’re saying this now, but it’s entirely possible it’s the sister-city-of-Stockholm syndrome.”

Scott exhales, long and slow. “Then we should test it out. We should date. Get to know each other outside of witness protection. Be together because we want to be. If you want.”

Stiles rests his chin on his hand, gazes at Scott like he hung the moon. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

[sworntolight-a]

✩ Aaand one star for Entrust!

The ultimate relationship meme!

Send ‘✩’ for the following:

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Takeru, though he doesn’t really yell all that often at Kiku?Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither. Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Neither. Honestly, they never could.Who trashes the house? Neither-Do either of them get physical? No. The closest that’s gotten is one grabbing the other’s wrist or arm, and even then it’s not hard enough to hurt.How often do they argue/disagree? They’re both stubborn, so disagreements happen on a fairly regular basis, but arguments - real, full arguments - are rare.Who is the first to apologise? They’re usually tied on this one.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? They don’t exactly plan on it, but it’s something they talk about? Especially given they know it’s a possibility later on, though it’s not a conversation Takeru especially likes at first, either. Nervous lion was nervous-If so, how many children do your muses want/have? They end up having one, a daughter they name Kasumi Who is the favorite parent? They both are~Who is the authoritative parent? Sort of both, sort of Kiku-Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Takeru, though it’s still relatively rare.Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? They’re both pretty guilty and think the other doesn’t know. Joke’s on them: They so do. XDWho turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Both! Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Both, though Kiku sometimes has to drag Takeru along- If only because he’s tired and doesn’t want to be in school anymore. XDWho changes the diapers? More Kiku, though Takeru’s done it his fair share too Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? Kiku, though Takeru will sometimes get up first so Kiku can sleep. Who spends the most time with the children? Tied!Who packs their lunch boxes? Takeru can’t be trusted actually cooking, so Kiku hands him things and he does the packing.Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Kiku~ Takeru noped on outta that talk years before it ever came up~Who cleans up after the kids? They both do~Who worries the most? Takeru. After the life hes led, it’s just second nature to him, no matter how much Kiku tries to reassure him Sumi’ll be just fine. Still, Kiku understands, too.Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Ryujiro Mizunuma. Unfortunately. Neither one of them can figure out how, but Sumi pointed him out. Takeru tried to punch him.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Kiku’s far cuddlier and often plops herself on his lap after a long day. Despite being curious and sometimes questioning, Takeru never minds-Who is the little spoon? Kiku~Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? It’s rare this happens but when it does, Takeru-Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  Kiku, though it’s because she wants his hand or his arm to hold~ At home, it’s still Kiku, who’s prone to little touches and kisses on his cheek How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Quite a while, with a few minimal shifts to make sure they stay comfortable. At the very least, a couple hours?Who gives the most kisses? Kiku! What is their favourite non-sexual activity? Sitting on the pier, watching the sea and chatting about tiny little things. It’s the perfect wind-down time, and they’ve been doing it since they were kids, really.Where is their favourite place to cuddle? Couch~ Second place is tied between an oversized armchair and bed~Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Believe it or not, it’s usually Kiku! It’s not often, though - She’s more likely to go in for a cuddle and a kiss and it lead to that. How often do they get time to themselves? Pretty often? As teens, they get time whenever he comes home for a visit, but once they’ve graduated and moved in together, they make the time for each other as often as they can.

Sleeping:

Who snores? Neither~If both do, who snores the loudest? Nope~Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share a bed~!If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Cozy up! Takeru’s a walking space heater and Kiku loves it Who talks in their sleep? Rarely, she’ll hear Takeru mumble in his sleep during a nightmare, but other than that, neither of them really do?What do they wear to bed? Kiku sticks to lightweight pjs, either nightgown of light pants and t-shirt, mostly because Takeru is a space heater and she loves his warmth. Takeru’ll stick to sleep pants and a t-shirt, or just a pair of shorts in the summer.Are either of your muses insomniacs? Not really? Kiku can stay up late studying and Takeru does still wake from nightmares occasionally but they’re not really insomniacs?Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? When they eventually move in together and marry, Kiku keeps a bottle of herbal sleep aids in the bathroom. Not for her, but for Takeru - She knows sometimes his nightmares get nasty and no amount of cuddles will help, so they’re there if he wants them.Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Wraps limbs around each other Who wakes up with bed hair? Takeru’s got bed hair all the time, so it’s totally Kiku XDWho wakes up first? Usually Kiku.Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Kiku does on a few occasions, namely their anniversary and Takeru’s birthday, and Valentine’s Day. Otherwise, it’s kept solely to when Takeru’s sick, and vice versa - Only because she doesn’t trust him alone in the kitchen!What is their favourite sleeping position? Kiku generally snuggles into Takeru, either face to face with her head tucked under his chin, or spooning, though she’s also just as likely to snuggle into his side and use his shoulder as a pillow, and Takeru usually has an arm around her.Who hogs the sheets? Takeru; Kiku’s good with the warmth she gets from him~Do they set an alarm each night? They try to? Try because Kiku can easily fall asleep cuddling with him, he’s so war and comfortable~Can a television be found in their bedroom? A small one, yes, though it’s usually off. It was put there for movies in bed, but they end up only really watching it whenever one’s watching something the other doesn’t like, or they’re sick in bed.Who has nightmares? Takeru. Kiku doesn’t know much about them at all, but she’s there as soon as she’s aware he’s having one.Who has ridiculous dreams? Rarely Kiku~Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Takeru tries to until Kiku joins him, then it’s like a lion curling around his lioness Who makes the bed? Kiku, though when she can’t get to it Takeru does.What time is bed time? Legit whenever they get there. They try to get to bed at a fairly decent time, but it doesn’t always happen.Any routines/rituals before bed? They’ll brush their teeth together and talk about what’s coming up the next day, make sure they have their schedules straightened out. From there it’s making sure the doors are locked, then crawling into bed for a bit more chatting and cuddling until they settle down to sleep Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Takeru, especially if Kiku gets him up before his alarm

Work:

Who is the busiest? Kiku. And she refuses to say how much she dislikes that when it cuts into her time with Takeru.Who rakes in the highest income? Kiku~Are any of your muses unemployed? Not really, no?Who takes the most sick days? Technically neither, because Takeru likes what he’s doing and Kiku can’t really.Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Probably Takeru. XDWho sucks up to their boss? Kiku, though she doesn’t classify it as ‘sucking up’ when she’s honestly on friendly terms with her boss and stands up for them/gets along rather well with them.What are their jobs? Kiku’s a nurse, Takeru helps at his grandfather’s dojo Who stresses the most? Kiku would say Takeru and she wouldn’t be wrong, but she’s right behind him with fussing, too.Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Love them~!Are your muses financially stable? Yup! Very few problems here

Home:

Who does the washing? Kiku~Who takes out the trash? Takeru!Who does the ironing? Kiku irons and if Takeru’s home, she gets him to fold/hang things up when she’s done. Who does the cooking? KIKU. Takeru’s banned from the kitchen unless the microwave’s involved.Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Have you met Takeru, the walking fireball-Who is messier? Slightly more Takeru-Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Nope.Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Takeru does sometimes? Kiku only does if they’ve been in a hurry to hit their bed, and they only stay there until morning.Who forgets to flush the toilet? Noooooooope.Who is the prankster around the house? If it happens, they’re both guilty of it. Takeru teases and Kiku can’t help but get him back, which leads to a constant trail of very minor pranks. XDWho loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? That would be Takeru, and only when he’s flustered or panicked, like when Kiku goes into labor.Who mows the lawn? Takeru~ Kiku never admits she likes to watch Who answers the telephone? They both do~Who does the vacuuming? Kiku.Who does the groceries? Kiku, though sometimes she’ll send Takeru off to the store in her place, and frequently they’ll do it together.Who takes the longest to shower? Kiku, but that’s because she’s often buying a bunch of new things to try, like bath bombs for her baths and new shampoos and the like.Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Kiku, though thankfully it’s not too much extra time

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Nope!How many cars do they own? Just one, but walking is more their speed, so-Do they own their home or do they rent? Own.Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? By the coast~Do they live in the city or in the country? In their hometown in the countryside Do they enjoy their surroundings? Love it~!What’s their song? Fire In My Heart - Simple PlanWhat do they do when they’re away from each other? Kiku reads and keeps herself busy. Her family runs a fish shop she helps out in, eventually decides she wants to be a nurse… She’s got a lot on her plate and keeping busy with that minimizes the time she can focus on how much she misses Takeru, though she’s also certain he’s okay in the city/whenever he’s away from her. Takeru’s got his own fight to deal with, but it’s not going to stop them from phone calls and video messages online set up by Yusaku and Mako, either. Where did they first meet? Their countryside hometown How did they first meet? They actually met when they were about 4 or 5 - During a visit to his grandparents’, Takeru and his parents stopped in at her family’s shop for a bit of dinner shopping. While the grownups were busy, Kiku got to meet Takeru - And with it formed a friendship that’d last their entire lives. Who spends the most money when out shopping? Kiku, and Takeru’s never sure how the heck she manages to do that so fast-Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? They’ll both snicker a little but they’re also right there with a hand out to help them up. It’s not so much amusing as it is “Good god you never do that, are you okay?”Any mental issues? Takeru has PTSD. Nothing on Kiku’s side.Who’s terrified of bugs? Kiku, even if she never says it. If it can be classified as a ‘creepy crawly’, this butterfly’s flying SO FAR AWAY SO FAST-Who kills the spiders around the house? “TAKERU KILL IT-”Their favourite place? They’d both probably be quick to say the pier, but really it’s anywhere by the coast that’s quiet… And anywhere the other is.Who pays the bills? They tag team them~Do they have any fears for their future? Takeru’s usually afraid of his future, and while Kiku doesn’t know why, she knows it and is always there with a hand held out to him. Kiku’s not really afraid of much aside from her parents wanting her to take over the shop as they all get older, but after they have Sumi, she’s afraid of Sumi falling into the same life they had as kids, dealing with bullies like Ryujiro and his brother.Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Kiku, though Takeru taking her out is a thing, too Who uses up all of the hot water? Kiku whenever she gets a new bath bomb or something for a shower~Who’s the tallest? Takeru. Kiku secretly occasionally pouts over it.Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? They’re both guilty, especially when they’re feeling playful or in a rush and can’t wait for the other to finish showering.Who wanders around in their underwear? Takeru in the summer and Kiku dies every time without fail, even if she doesn’t make it obvious-Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Kiku! Takeru’s often amused by it, too~What do they tease each other about? Just about everything under the sun. XD Kiku’s favorite thing to tease him over is how fast he gets soft and sweet and his lack of understanding when it comes to technology, while Takeru’ll often tease her for getting flustered over things she should long since be used to. It’s always lighthearted and gentle, too, never meant to insult or hurt.Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Considering he usually doesn’t much care about fashion? Takeru. Especially given Kiku loves fashion and celebrities and clothes shopping.Do they have mutual friends? They do, though not many - Mainly Mako, Hana, and a couple of classmates. Kiku’s not sure Yusaku and Kusanagi count when she barely talks to or sees them, even on her visits to the city, unlike Takeru who spends more time with them.Who crushed first? The answer is unknown~ Kiku thinks she did, though, but that might only be because she recognized it first.Any alcohol or substance related problems? None.Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Neither, unless Takeru can get drunk on coffee.Who swears the most? Takeru, but only when he’s angry and even then Kiku’s pretty sure she’s heard him swear like, maybe six times in their entire life together-

[purplesurveys]

358

In the last year, have you...

Moved: No, I’ve lived in the same house for about a decade. Started a new job:  Nope, and I don’t exactly plan to do so until after I graduate. Traveled to another country: Nah, not this year. Traveled to another continent: Most definitely not lmao, if ^ that’s already a no. Eaten sushi: So many times, my dude. Gab and I had sushi for our anniversary.

Been drunk: Yep. As recently as last Saturday. Been high: Never plan to. Been to the dentist: At the start of the year I think. We always get our teeth checked once a year. Bought a new car: Nah, still using my usual one and I never want to trade it for something else, at least while I’m still in college. Had a broken heart: Uh, sure. It sounds cheesy but yeah I’ve felt hurt here and there. Spent over $1,000 in one day: I’ve never even held that much money. Maybe my parents did this, but I haven’t. Kissed a stranger: As a demisexual, the prospect is terrifying. Haven’t done this. Finished a jigsaw puzzle: I don’t think I got to play with puzzles this year. Cooked or baked something from scratch: Yes!!! I’m glad to say I baked something this year! Angela, Hans, Rap, and I spontaneously decided to bake chocolate chip cookies when classes got suspended halfway through the day because of an incoming typhoon. Started a new relationship: No, still in the same relationship as I’ve been in in the last two years. Broken up with someone: Nope. Been broken up with: Nope. Been in the same relationship you were in last year: There we go. Explored a large city: I guess, in the few moments that I had the time. Been to a wedding: No but my mom was invited to a couple this year. I miss going to weddings :( Been to a funeral: Thankfully not. Been to a baby shower: I don’t think so, not this year. Held a baby: Earlier in the year. Angela’s mom (who works as a pediatrician) threw a party and some of her patients and their kids were invited, and one of the kids was a really chubby baby girl that I couldn’t help but hold. Seen a therapist: No, I’ve been putting it off for the longest time. Bought new furniture: My mom’s in charge of that, not me, so no. Made new friends: Sure, you always meet some new people in college. This year it was most notably new recruits in my org, like Tina and Kezhia. Called in sick to work/school: Haven’t we all... Deleted a social media account: I didn’t delete, just deactivate. I’m doing a massive social media detox this Christmas break because everyone’s happy and family-centric posts make me sicker this time of the year. Started a new hobby: Coloring came to me as an impulse hobby last month as Christmas had been approaching, and while I feel sad about flushing so much money in one go over coloring books and supplies, I’m still happy I made an active effort to look out for myself this year. This hobby’s a blassssssst so far. Met a famous person: I don’t think so, if I remember correctly haha. I was like 10 feet away from Paramore but I was too scared to volunteer myself for Misery Business. Went to a concert: I DID!!! I saw Paramore for the second time!!!!!! August 23rd. BEST night of my life, even if I went alone. I don’t know if I ever reported that here but the experience was amaaaaaazing. Best band ever. Traveled via train: The railway system in the Philippines is shit. No way am I voluntarily riding a train. Traveled via airplane: Yes, I went to Bataan over the Holy Week. Been on a road trip: Yes, my dad loves doing road trips so whenever he’s home, we do 1-3 of them. I also did a road trip with just Gab and I when we went to Nasugbu for my birthday. Donated to charity: Not really for charity since they’re sometimes sketchy, but I regularly give money and food to homeless people who knock on my window when I’m stuck in traffic. Been to a country club: Yeah, a few months ago. Went swimming: Many times. The weather this year was not exactly the most convenient, so we went to a LOT of beaches to cool down. Went surfing: Nah, I’m too afraid to try. My sister and parents have had a few lessons but my balance is mostly off haha. Went hiking: NOOOOOOOO UGH I miss hiking! I wish I’d get to do it next year. Had a gym membership: I don’t think I need one, so no I’ve never tried to apply for a membership. Had an argument with a friend: I mean, just with Gabie. I never had an argument with any of my other friends. Had a family reunion: Yeah...dad’s side. It was huge, we rented out a small hotel for it cos literally everyone from my paternal grandmother’s side was there. I was mostly stoked about the food and the couple of dogs that my relatives brought. Went for a walk in a park: This country doesn’t prioritize and maintain their parks, a damn shame. We go for walks at the mall - that’s more of the culture here. Been in the hospital: If I remember correctly, no. Attended a professional sporting event: No. The UAAP (our version of the NCAA) season this year was CRRRRAZY good though, but I never got to get tickets because acads consumed me throughout the semester. Earned a new degree or diploma: I’m in the process of getting one, but no I didn’t earn it this year. Been to a museum: I went back to Pinto this year with Aya, Laurice, Jo, Jum, and Luisa then had a drink atop Antipolo after. Been to an art gallery: Numerous ones with Gab. They pop up every now and then at the mall and we always go through them. Went camping: I was way too busy this year. Went fishing: I don’t like doing that :c Struggled with an eating disorder: No, I’ve never been diagnosed with such a disorder. Been in credit card debt: I don’t even have a credit card. Had new neighbors move in next door: Nope, the houses on either side of ours have long been uninhabited. Gotten drunk at a work party: At an org party, sure. Dyed your hair: Nope. But Gabie did, she had the ends of her hair dyed like a weird blondeish a few months ago. My sister also got brown dye delivered to the house a couple of days ago, so I should be expecting her look to change soon too. Gotten a manicure: Not a big fan of getting my nails painted. Been to a casino: I wouldn’t be allowed to get inside even if I wanted to haha. The one time I smoothly went inside was in 2016 when I was on my cruise trip. The only things I remember is that it the place was filled with flashing lights and everything was super colorful. Voted in an election: No elections happened this year. But we will have our midterm elections in 2019 and I intend to vote then. Shopped at a bookstore: SO MANY TIMESSSSS. Call 2018 the year I got obsessed with school supplies, cos I definitely went overboard with buying pad paper, highlighters, post-its, and, pens. Dined at a fancy restaurant: Many times with Gab. Sat in a sauna: I hate saunas and can’t comprehend how my mom enjoys it so damn much. It’s hot enough in Manila, why salivate at the thought of saunas??? R u ok??? Had a panic attack: Hahaha, I remember so many occasions. Attended a religious service: My family is Catholic, I get dragged to church every week. Been pulled over for speeding: I don’t think speeding is a thing here. People drive like death and I’ve never actually heard of someone getting pulled over for this reason. Stayed awake all night: It happens. Borrowed money from a friend or family member: Gabie lent me a thousand bucks (relax, that’s like $20). I was so short of money last week but I still had a bunch of Santa babies to give gifts to, so I went into a panic until she stepped in and lent me money. Lent money to a friend or family member: I give Gab money sometimes since she commutes from her dorm to my school, but I don’t ask for it back unless I really need the money. Been to an amusement park: LOL pass. I hate amusement parks. Gotten a new pet: No, I still have the same dumb dog. Had strep throat: My throat hurt like a bitch a few months ago. Had food poisoning: I don’t think so. Had the stomach flu: Sure. Binge-watched a show on Netflix: Friends and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Shoveled snow: We don’t get snowwwww. Mowed a lawn: We don’t have a lawn. Bought a new computer: Nope, still have my same trusty laptop. Bought a new phone: My dad got me an iPhone 8 early in the year.

Worked out using a fitness tracker: I don’t work out. Eaten an entire pizza by yourself: Hehe. Felt an earthquake: I don’t think there were any recognizable ones this year. Taken out a loan: I’m a clueless 20 year old and I don’t know what this means, but I’m guessing no. Been prescribed antibiotics: Nope. Sold something on eBay: I don’t use eBay. Painted a room in your house: My control freak of a mom would never let us get away with that.

[deathishauntedbyhumans]

New In Town

Stranger: [HS AU] Hey, I hope this isn't weird or anything, but my name is Alexander Hamilton, and I'm new in town. The Washingtons just adopted me. They said you live down the street from here and that I should introduce myself, so. Hi. -AH

You: I'm Aaron Burr. You probably already knew that, though. AB

Stranger: Yeah, they told me. They've got, like, a list of everyone? On the fridge? I didn't know people actually did that. -AH But apparently it's useful when they need someone to mow the lawn or whatever. I don't know. -AH Anyway. Hi. -AH

You: The Washingtons are nice. I used to watch their cat when they went out of town. AB Are you going to be going to school around here, now? AB

Stranger: I will be, starting Monday! I'm excited. -AH

You: We can walk together, if you'd like. It isn't that far, and I usually walk by myself. AB

Stranger: That would be nice. Thank you. They've already bought me a bunch of nice supplies. It probably says something about me that nice pens are one of my favorite things I have right now. -AH

You: It's good to be prepared. AB Where are you from? AB

Stranger: Ah. -AH Nevis. -AH

You: I... don't know where that is. AB

Stranger: Yeah, that's fair. -AH It's an island in the Caribbean. -AH

You: Oh. That's pretty cool. AB Do you like it here so far? AB

Stranger: It's definitely an adjustment. I've never been off the island before. There's so much more /happening/ here, though. Nevis is- tiny. And quiet. -AH

You: I've never been out of the country before. I can't imagine a place that's tiny and quiet. It sounds nice. AB How long have you been here, so far? AB

Stranger: It takes less than a day to make a trip all the way around the island, and that's not even in a car. -AH About four days? -AH

You: Wow. To... all of that. AB Well. Welcome to crowded and loud. No wonder you're still adjusting. AB [...] I'm sorry if that came out wrong. I'm not always very good at texting the right things. AB

Stranger: Ha, you're fine. I get what you're saying. It's an adventure. I'm excited, though. I mean, I've wanted to come to America for a while now, so. Now I'm here. -AH

You: There's definitely a lot to take in. AB Would you like to... come over? I'm better at introducing myself in person, and I'd like to make a better first impression. AB Only if you aren't busy, of course. I'm sure you have a lot to do, since you're still fairly new here. AB

Stranger: I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually enjoying what has to be the nicest bathtub in the history of mankind at the moment. Not even the hand of god could move me right now. -AH How about tomorrow? -AH

You: That would be nice. AB

Stranger: Great! -AH I'll bring some of the leftover cookies Mrs. Martha made today. If there are any leftovers, anyway. They're soooo good. -AH

You: Thank you, Alexander. That's really nice of you. AB Mrs. Washington bakes a lot. She's very good at it. AB

Stranger: No shit, yeah. I didn't know what a blondie was? And now I don't know how I've gone this long without them? -AH

You: Wait until she starts baking pies. AB

Stranger: Oh god, I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die of happiness. -AH I can't cook, like, at all, so just these past few days have been kind of a miracle for me. -AH

You: You can't die before you taste her pies. Those are definitely miracle-worthy. AB

Stranger: No, no, I'm pretty sure that the pie is gonna be what kills me. -AH It's okay. There are worse ways to go. -AH

You: She bakes bread, too. From scratch. AB

Stranger: Hooolyyyy shit. -AH Clearly, I've already died, because this must be heaven. -AH

You: She made this pumpkin bread last October for a bake sale at school... It was probably the best thing I've ever eaten. AB

Stranger: God... -AH I'm not even hungry but now I really want to eat. -AH

You: You don't have to be hungry to eat Mrs. Washington's food. You just... eat it. AB

Stranger: Not being hungry is still kind of a new feeling for me, honestly. -AH

You: What do you mean? AB

Stranger: Nothing. Just- it's nice. -AH

You: [...] Okay. That makes sense. AB Like I said, the Washingtons are really nice. They'll make sure you've always got plenty of food. AB

Stranger: Yeah. Their kitchen is huuuuuuge. -AH I kind of. Have a secret hoard of crackers under my bed. Mostly out of habit. -AH

You: Make sure you keep them closed up. Otherwise you'll get ants. AB

Stranger: Trust me, I know how to handle my food stashes. -AH

You: It's just a warning from experience. AB

Stranger: Fair enough. Thanks. -AH I just like knowing they're there. -AH

You: Just in case. I get it. AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH This all still feels like a dream, you know? Like I'm gonna wake up any second. -AH

You: It's real. I mean, you're talking to me and I'm real. AB Those blondies were definitely real. AB

Stranger: I have an active imagination. -AH Oooooh, /true/. Yeah, I couldn't have imagined those. -AH

You: See? Even an active imagination couldn't have come up with that. AB

Stranger: You make an excellent point. -AH I kinda want to ask if she can make anything with coconut, but I also feel kind of bad asking for anything after how much they've already done for me. -AH

You: I'm sure she would be happy to do it. She likes baking, and she likes making people happy. AB I don't know if it's weird to say, but I'm really happy they adopted you? I've heard them talking to my grandparents before about how much they miss having kids around. AB

Stranger: I just really like coconut. One of the nice things from home. -AH I'm happy too, I'm pretty sure. It's kind of overwhelming how nice they are? I have no idea what to do with it, honestly. I've been on my own for- a while. -AH

You: On your own? AB

Stranger: Yeah. Pretty much. -AH

You: Wow. AB How old are you? AB

Stranger: Seventeen. -AH

You: That's a lot to deal with. AB

Stranger: It's been a lot, yeah. Yeah. -AH I've been going non-stop since I was thirteen, so now that I'm here and I don't have to, I'm just kinda- lost. -AH

You: You'll figure things out here. If you managed on your own for so long, you'll be able to adapt to this. AB [...] I'm not trying to pry, and you don't have to answer, but... I can't lie and say I'm not a little curious. What happened? AB

Stranger: It's fine, you can ask. -AH My dad walked out when I was a kid. I was- ten? My mom did her best for a while to provide for me and my brother, but then she and I got sick. I got better. She didn't. -AH We moved in with my cousin, cousin committed suicide. My brother left to go make it out on his own, and it's just been me since then. -AH

You: Jesus. That's... too much. AB You made it, though. AB

Stranger: I grew up quick. I've been working since then. A lot of writing, a lot of math. That's how the Washingtons found out about me. A hurricane hit my town last season, and it just- it destroyed everything. It was awful. So I wrote to every newspaper I could trying to get people to pay /attention/ and /help/ and people noticed. -AH

You: And they helped. AB That's amazing. AB

Stranger: Yeah. So. -AH That's my story. -AH

You: It's one hell of a story. AB

Stranger: Honestly, I was pretty sure I'd be dead by now, so I'm pleasantly surprised at this point. -AH

You: For what it's worth, I'm glad I got the chance to meet you and that you're not dead. AB

Stranger: Well, thanks. I appreciate it. -AH So, what about you? -AH

You: What about me? AB

Stranger: What's your story? -AH

You: Oh. AB I haven't done nearly as much as you have. AB My parents died in a car accident when I was just a kid. My sister and I lived with our grandparents until she moved out a few years ago. Now it's just me and them. I'll be seventeen in a few months. My grandfather is a preacher? That's... pretty much it. AB

Stranger: What do you like to do? -AH

You: I like to read? I was a in a play at school once, but I don't think I was very good. AB

Stranger: Ohhhh my god there are so many books here, I love it. Basically my whole little library I'd accumulated got destroyed in the floods. Broke my heart. But I'm allowed to read whatever I want off the shelves here. -AH You did a play at school? Huh. All kinds of stuff goes on there, then? -AH

You: I'm sorry about your library. I've got quite a few books, too, if you ever want to borrow any of them. AB Yes. There are all sorts of clubs and things. A friend of mine convinced me to act with her in a play because they were short on people. I like to sit in on the Speech and Debate meetings and listen to the debates. AB

Stranger: Ooooh, definitely! -AH THERE ARE DEBATES??? -AH I mean. Um. There are debates? Cool. Cool. -AH

You: There are definitely debates. AB Would you... like to come with me to the next meeting? AB

Stranger: /Y e s./ -AH

You: I don't usually join in, but they're always open for more people to debate if you're interested. AB Just... going out on a limb and guessing that you're interested? AB

Stranger: Yes absolutely please and thank you. -AH

You: They'll be happy about it. Maybe if I bring you, they'll stop bothering me about actually debating. AB

Stranger: Or I'll harass you into joining too. -AH :) -AH

You: I'll hide in the back of the room. You won't even know I'm there. AB

Stranger: I'm good at calling people out. It's what I /do/. -AH

You: The club's either going to love you or hate you. Either way, it'll be fun to watch. AB

Stranger: I have that effect. -AH I didn't know there was a debate club. I'm even /more/ excited about going to school now, shit. -AH

You: You'll have a good time. If either of us talks to any admin, they would probably be able to put us together in a few classes, too, if you wanted. They usually do, to try and make the transition for new students easier if they already know someone. That'd be up to you. AB

Stranger: That would be great! I'll ask. I had to go up there once already, but George made me wait in the hall because apparently I was "getting agitated" with the person. -AH It's not my fault he was stupid and bad at his job. -AH

You: I'm almost afraid to ask what happened. AB

Stranger: I want to do the accelerated courses, but they kept telling me no because they didn't have anything on my transcripts saying I could, because I don't /have/ transcripts because I've never actually /been/ to a formal school before and they couldn't seem to understand that so instead of just saying they'd give me a placement test, which is what they were supposed to do, he looked at me like I was stupid. -AH I'm not stupid. -AH

You: Of course you're not stupid. You wrote a letter to a newspaper and ended up here. Not many people could just... do that. AB Did you end up getting to take a placement test for it? AB

Stranger: Yeah. I did. And they're letting me do the classes. But it was just- frustrating. I was halfway out of my seat with my fist clenched before I knew I was moving. -AH

You: You have to be careful. Some of the admin is... slow, but they're even worse when they think they're not in control of the situation. AB That's good, that you're in the right classes, though. I'm also in some of the advanced courses. AB

Stranger: I get a little testy sometimes. So George made me wait outside. -AH Yeah? Great! -AH

You: Probably a good decision. AB Even if we don't end up in the same classes at the same times, I can help you with any catching up if you need it. AB

You: ((brb))

Stranger: ...maybe. Probably. Yeah. -AH That would be nice. I can get a lot from books, I just need to know where I should be focusing. I'll read anything I can get my hands on, honestly. -AH

You: I'll point you in the right direction once you get your first few assignments. AB A lot of it's just reading and retaining the information, so you shouldn't have much of a problem with it. AB

Stranger: I'm gonna like this, I can already tell. -AH God, I'm excited. -AH

You: You /will/ have to refrain from punching anyone while you're debating, though. AB

Stranger: ...damn. -AH

You: Not easy, but necessary. AB

Stranger: Is it, though? -AH

You: The admin won't look kindly on it if you deck someone at the stand. AB

Stranger: Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh -AH

You: Look at it this way: if you debate well enough, you won't need to hit them. AB

Stranger: Touche. -AH But it's /so/ satisfying. -AH

You: So is staying out of the dean's office.

You: AB**

Stranger: What's the worst that could happen? -AH

You: Suspension, expulsion. AB

Stranger: Well that seems excessive. -AH

You: Welcome to the American school system. AB

Stranger: A little fighting is good for the soul. -AH

You: Most people don't exactly share that sentiment, here. AB

Stranger: Boring. -AH Hell, that's how I made rent sometimes. I'd cause a little trouble, get some folks to bet I couldn't win, and then I'd get paid when I just wouldn't quit. -AH

You: That sounds... dangerous, Alexander. AB

Stranger: So is going hungry. -AH

Stranger: I'm scrappy. I managed alright. -AH Besides, half of the time, it was a scam anyway. I'd pay someone else to be in on it, and we'd split it. -AH

You: Being scrappy doesn't mean you were safe. AB You did what you had to do. I'm not going to judge you for that. But you don't have to do it anymore. AB You've got Mrs. Washington's pies to look forward to. AB

Stranger: It's just- weird. Not having to work at all. -AH

You: If it really bothers you, you could get a job? It wouldn't be fighting, obviously, but once you get into the swing of things with school, there are plenty of minimum wage places around here that hire high schoolers. AB

Stranger: I did other stuff too, relax. Mostly stuff for a local shipping company. I handled a lot of their inventory and accounting business. And writing angry letters to people who sent us shitty product. That was my main gig, and then I'd pick up other stuff when I could at some of the hotels or things like that. Anything I could manage, y'know? -AH Maybe I'll look into it. It's mostly just being idle that's getting to me right now. -AH

You: You've got enough experience that you could probably get hired anywhere. I'd focus on one thing at a time for now if I were you, but once you figure out school a job might be a good distraction from being idle. AB

Stranger: For now, I mostly just have to keep myself busy getting familiar with things around the house. And writing. I never stop writing. -AH

You: I can see why you got excited about having nice pens. AB

Stranger: They're soooo good. A little smeary until they dry, but they don't bleed onto the next page at all, and the lines are really crisp and it's just- yeah. -AH Good pens and a stack of empty journals. It's a dream come true. -AH

You: Get too many empty journals and you'll end up never leaving your house. AB

Stranger: Come winter time, I'll probably be okay with that. -AH

You: What do you write about? I mean, I know you wrote letters before, but what do you write in the journals? AB

Stranger: Anything. Everything. -AH A lot of political and economic stuff. Some of it's more like personal philosophical treatises. Really detailed pro-and-con charts. Books I want to pick apart. -AH

You: Wow. You really meant it when you said everything, huh. AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH Some of it's just dumb stuff, though. Like, rolling over in the middle of the night and scribbling out "if I was an animal what would i be" barely legibly and then falling back asleep. -AH I have no memory of doing that, but it's in my journal. Which means I spent three days really intensely trying to work it out. -AH

You: Did you ever figure it out? AB

Stranger: Not to the point of being satisfied with it. -AH

Stranger: But then, I've never been satisfied. -AH

You: Maybe the debate club can figure it out. From what you've told me about yourself so far, you sound like you'd be some sort of cat. AB

Stranger: That's where I landed too, yeah. But see, with cats, the solitary/social split is an important one, and I was never able to settle that because I've never really... had a group of friends before. -AH

You: Maybe that will change. AB

Stranger: Maybe so. I kinda hope so. I've never had a chance before. -AH

You: You will now. AB There are lots of people to meet at school. Groups of every sort of people. You'll find somewhere to fit in. AB

Stranger: Yeah. One more thing to add to the list of reasons I'm excited. -AH

You: People will see that you're excited, too. They'll be drawn to it. That's how these things go. AB

Stranger: Woo! -AH That woo was vaguely sarcastic because I do not have exclamation points in me right now. I am flopped out face-first on this bed right now because /wow/ moving to a new country is exhausting. -AH

You: I can't even imagine. Moving from one house to another was bad enough as a little kid. AB You should get some sleep. You'll need as much rest as you can get before school starts. AB Is there a time difference from Nevis? Probably, right? AB

Stranger: No, actually. No time difference. Just- mental and physical exhaustion. Which I can usually power through. -AH

You: Even without a time difference, it makes sense you'd be tired. You've done a lot already and you've been here less than a week. AB You don't have to power through it. Go to bed, Alexander. AB

Stranger: Mm. Nah. I'm good. -AH Technically in bed. -AH

You: I meant sleep, and you know it. AB Besides, I'll see you tomorrow. We can actually talk in person, and you can be well-rested for it. AB

Stranger: [Slightly delayed] I don't wanna sleep, okay? -AH

You: Why not? You said you were tired. AB

Stranger: I'm always tired. That doesn't mean sleep feels better. -AH

You: [...] Oh. AB

Stranger: I'll pass out eventually. If I suddenly stop responding, that's probably why. -AH

You: That makes sense. AB You know, if you have trouble sleeping, there are things you can do to try and counteract it. AB

Stranger: Swipe some rum from the store before leaving work, usually. But /that's/ not an option now. -AH

You: Well, no. But there are medications for sleeping, and things that aren't medications but that do the same things. AB I usually try to meditate before I sleep. It sounds crazy, but it actually helps. AB

Stranger: Yeah, I can't slow my thoughts down for that sort of thing. I only have the one gear, and it's always running. And if I'm alone with my thoughts, it's either soooo much worse, or something I need to stop and write down anyway. -AH

You: It takes some practice, I'll give you that. AB Still. There has to be something. I would mention it to Mr. or Mrs. Washington. I'm sure they would help find something. AB

Stranger: Yeah. I guess I could do that. -AH It's just- not a great time. -AH

You: What do you mean? AB

Stranger: Sleeping. Sorry, shoulda been more clear. -AH

You: Ah. That makes sense, right. AB There's a lot to get used to, too. It might get easier as time goes on. There's probably a lot more noise here than you're used to, for one thing. AB

Stranger: Ohhhh, yeah. Different noise, too. I lived on a hill just over a beach on the far end of town. -AH

You: More cars, less waves? AB

Stranger: Less screeching monkeys, too. Which isn't a bad thing. -AH

You: Sounds... loud. AB Monkeys don't strike me as quiet animals. AB Maybe you'd be a monkey, if you were an animal. AB

Stranger: Please no. Maurice was Satan in the flesh. -AH

You: Maurice?? AB Did you name a monkey Maurice? AB

Stranger: I did not name him. I hated him with every fiber of my being. -AH My boss named him after we couldn't get him to stop coming in the store. -AH

You: What did he do in your store? AB Besides screech? AB

Stranger: One time he ripped all of the plastic bags out of their box, chewed a hole in the corner of every single one, and then stuffed them back in. -AH

You: That sounds like a monkey with a vendetta against plastic bags. AB Or people. Or both. AB

Stranger: They're fast babies with sharp teeth and they're /evil/. -AH He would run up on my shoulders while I was working, yank the tie out of my hair- usually with several strands in the process- and then either break it or fling it at me. -AH

You: Scrappy little troublemaker. AB Sounds like someone else I know. AB

Stranger: No. /Evil/. -AH Also, look up green vervet monkeys and tell me if there isn't something /strikingly/ uncomfortable about them. -AH

You: [...] They're actually rather cute. AB

Stranger: Blue. Balls. -AH They have /vibrantly/ blue balls, and they like to make them as impossible to ignore as they can. -AH It's not fun. -AH

You: /Oh./ AB I didn't see that at first, but that's... pretty unsettling, you're right. AB

Stranger: Yupp. -AH Now imagine dealing with that. All day. Every day. Screeching at you and scratching itself. -AH

You: No wonder you don't sleep at night. AB

Stranger: That's for sure the cause. Definitely. -AH

You: Close your eyes and all you can see is blue monkey balls. AB I... can't believe that I just typed that phrase out of my own free will. AB

Stranger: I'm making the /worst/ sound right now. Muffled wheeze-laughing. It's terrible. -AH

You: I'm glad that I can amuse. AB

Stranger: :) -AH I just realized you have no idea what I look like. Huh. -AH

You: My current mental image of you is a faceless person with long hair and a monkey on your shoulder. AB So, no. I don't really have any idea. AB

Stranger: ((brb))

Stranger: [Image attached: Alexander laying in bed, smiling tiredly and a too-big shirt drooping off to the side, hair falling around his face] -AH

You: [...] [image attached: Aaron sitting at his desk, smiling --albeit awkwardly-- with his face illuminated by a desk lamp] AB Figured I would return the favour? AB

Stranger: Mmmm. Much appreciated. -AH

You: You hair really is long. It looks nice. AB

Stranger: Yeah. I like it this way. More to grab. -AH Thanks. -AH

You: More for the monkeys to grab, you mean. AB

Stranger: I meant for me to grab in frustration. Or for someone else to grab in not-frustration. -AH

You: Oh. AB That makes... sense. AB

Stranger: Problem? -AH

You: Not at all. Just... got your drift, that's all. AB

Stranger: Another thing to add to the moving-frustrations, ugh. -AH

You: At least you'll be able to meet people soon, through school and everything. AB

Stranger: Yeah. Pretty different from what I'm used to. -AH

You: You're not used to meeting people? AB

Stranger: I'm not used to them being... permanent. -AH

You: Ah. AB It's not a bad thing. At least, not usually. AB

Stranger: No one sticks around on Nevis. They come for a week, maybe two. Maybe even a month or so. But everyone leaves. -AH

You: That's what you meant before, when you said you'd never had a group of friends? AB

Stranger: Yeah. -AH There aren't a lot of people on the island, and even fewer who actually like me. To the rest of the world, it doesn't even exist. Or if it does, it's just a pretty little place for them to ride ponies and go snorkeling for a week, and then it just vanishes. -AH

You: That's... awful. AB Your letters, though? People at least know it exists, now? Maybe someone will do something to help. AB

Stranger: That's life on the smaller part of the tenth smallest country in the world. -AH A little. People noticed for a while, donated some money to help with the cleanup. It burned out, though. -AH

You: Stuff like that goes in waves. Maybe it will pick up again. AB

Stranger: Maybe. -AH My point is, I'm not really used to people sticking around. -AH

You: Well, you're here now. People... tend to stick around. I've gone to school with some of the same people since I was five. AB

Stranger: That's- bizarre. -AH

You: I guess. AB That isn't to say we all like each other, but we've all had ten years to formulate hatred for one another if we feel so inclined. AB

Stranger: I'm not sure I've known anyone since I was five. -AH

You: It makes sense, but that's crazy to me. AB

Stranger: I guess my boss is the person I've known longest at this point? He was my mom's landlord, so I sort of vaguely knew him growing up. -AH

You: At least that's someone? AB

Stranger: Yeah, it kind of is. -AH He mostly just told me to stop sassing him all the time. -AH

You: Delightful. AB Although... it might've been warranted. You seem like the kind of person who would sass their boss. AB

Stranger: ...yeaaaaaaaaah. -AH We got some horses in one time that were just the scrawniest things when they got there, the poor things. I got them settled out to pasture to take care of them and all, but bossman didn't exactly like me saying that we'd gotten a shipment full of skeletons. I called them my skeletons all the time. -AH

You: I'm not sure the horses appreciated being called skeletons, either. Ab

You: AB**

Stranger: I named them all after bones. -AH

You: Charming. AB

Stranger: I mean, this is what happens when you let a fifteen year old asshole all but run your business for you. -AH

You: Yeah, that'll do it. AB You really ran the business? AB

Stranger: In everything but name, pretty much. -AH

You: That's incredible. AB I can't believe you're barely a year older than I am. AB

Stranger: It's not really that hard. You balance a few books, you don't communicate over the phone so no one knows you're a kid, you're golden. -AH

You: I've never run a business before. I've never even thought about it.

You: AB**

Stranger: I hadn't thought about it, but then an opportunity presented itself and I wasn't gonna throw it away. -AH Turns out spreadsheets are my soulmates. -AH

You: I've never even made a spreadsheet in my life. AB

Stranger: Oh, Burr, buddy. You don't know what you're missing out on. -AH

You: You'll have to show me how they work, I guess. AB

Stranger: :D -AH

You: You any closer to sleep, yet? AB

Stranger: Yeah. I think so. Thanks. -AH

You: No problem. I've been there. AB

Stranger: I'll see you tomorrow? -AH

You: I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be home all day; whenever you're ready, feel free to come over. AB

Stranger: Super. -AH

You: Sleep well, Alexander. AB

Stranger: You too, eventually. -AH

You: I'll do my best. AB

Stranger: And- thanks. Just thanks. -AH

[charsimatic]

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩ COME AT ME WITH SOME OF THAT FAYEMEN, BETCH!✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

YAAAAS BETCH. I’m thinking you want me to do all of them so I WILL.

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Uh, most likely Faye. She gets very heated, and sometimes Freeman actually finds how shrill her voice gets funny, so that sets her off more…..Freeman rarely raises his voice.Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Well Faye did leave…once. It used to be a joke for the both of them, but they don’t find it so funny anymore.Who actually keeps their word and leaves? …see above.Who trashes the house? Neither of them. They both see it as childish.Do either of them get physical? No, never.How often do they argue/disagree? Not too often, they disagree about a lot but they’re usually able to talk it through rationally. Who is the first to apologise? Depends on who was in the wrong. If they both were, after they calm down, they both suck it up and apologize.

Sex:

Who is on top? It definitely switches lolWho is on the bottom? See above^Who has the strangest desires? The strangest? Uh, Idk, now that Faye is more comfortable she is more apt to experiment with things, but I wouldn’t really call any of them “strange”Any kinks? Faye likes to be dominated.Who’s dominant in bed? Both, depends on the mood.Is head ever in the equation? YepIf so, who is better at performing it? I’d say they’re pretty equal in abilityEver had sex in public? Mmmhmmm. Who moans the most? Definitely Faye, although she can get a good amount of moans out of FreemanWho leaves the most marks? Freeman, I’d say. It brands her as his, and that’s incredibly sexy to him, but not in an overly possessive way. Who screams the loudest? Lol, FayeWho is the more experienced of the two? FreemanDo they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Make love. Rough or soft? Depends on the day, to be honest. How long do they usually last? Faye? Not long at all. Freeman can keep going for a while.Is protection used? Birth Control is, but that’s it, and that goes away as soon as they’re ready to have another baby.Does it ever get boring? No, neverWhere is the strangest place they’d have sex? Probably in a changing room!

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? They have three children currently, they aren’t sure on more because Faye is still recovering, but I think they both secretly want more.If so, how many children do your muses want/have? A lot lolWho is the favorite parent? Neither.Who is the authoritative parent? Eh, it dependsWho is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Freeman lolWho lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? They generally try to keep the kids healthy, but they both indulge the kids and keep it hush lolWho turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? BothWho goes to parent teacher interviews? BothWho changes the diapers?  Both Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?  Both Who spends the most time with the children? Faye, because she stays at home, but Freeman spends time with them as soon as he gets home from workWho packs their lunch boxes? Faye, she has more time in the morningWho gives their children ‘the talk’? The kids are too young for that, currently.Who cleans up after the kids? BothWho worries the most? Faye, because of her anxietyWho are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Lol probably Faye

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? They both doWho is the little spoon? lol, FreemanWho gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? FayeWho struggles to keep their hands to themself? They both do, for sureHow long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Lol forever, basicallyWho gives the most kisses? Equal amounts by bothWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? Cuddling on the couch together, going hiking and being active, taking the kids out to do things as a familyWhere is their favourite place to cuddle? Couch or bedroomWho is more likely to playfully grope the other? BothHow often do they get time to themselves? No time right now, because Faye is still in the rehabilitation facility, and she’s worried she won’t get any when she’s back home, either, because three children.

Sleeping:

Who snores?Faye lololIf both do, who snores the loudest? Freeman doesn’t snore a whole lot, but Faye’s snores are quiet. Unless she’s pregnant. Then Freeman sometimes has to leave to get any sleep!Do they share a bed or sleep separately? They share a bedIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? They cuddle, but usually drift apart when they’re asleep.Who talks in their sleep? Faye, she has night terrors a lot currentlyWhat do they wear to bed? Freeman just wears sweatpants or shorts. Faye will usually wear a t-shirt and underwearAre either of your muses insomniacs? Faye has issues sleeping right now because she hates the night terrors. Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Not sleeping pills, but Faye has an entire pharmacy right now.Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Usually some limb is touching somewhere....Who wakes up with bed hair? They both do lolWho wakes up first? Freeman, usually, and he usually starts breakfast.Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Freeman, although Faye has been known to do it on occasionWhat is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning or Faye with her head on Freeman’s chest.Who hogs the sheets? Faaaaaaye Do they set an alarm each night? Only on days Freeman has to workCan a television be found in their bedroom? NopeWho has nightmares? FayeWho has ridiculous dreams? Still FayeWho sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Yet again, FayeWho makes the bed? Faye on days Freeman has to work. It’s usually left messy on weekends cause they want to spend time with kids and don’t worry about making the bedWhat time is bed time? Depends on the day, but usually around 11-12 after the kids are asleep and they’ve had alone time.Any routines/rituals before bed? The usual hygiene routine, then they usually just lay together and talk about their day.Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Lol most definitely Faye.

Work:

Who is the busiest? FreemanWho rakes in the highest income? Freeman, Faye currently doesn’t workAre any of your muses unemployed? FayeWho takes the most sick days? N/AWho is more likely to turn up late to work? NeitherWho sucks up to their boss? NeitherWhat are their jobs? Freeman is a big bad FBI agentWho stresses the most? FayeDo your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Freeman enjoys it. Are your muses financially stable? Yep

Home:

Who does the washing? They both doWho takes out the trash? Both, although usually Freeman cause he takes it out in the morning before work.Who does the ironing? BothWho does the cooking? FreemanWho is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Neither, they’re both pretty good cooksWho is messier? NeitherWho leaves the toilet roll empty? Faye, lol she forgets to change itWho leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? NeitherWho forgets to flush the toilet? NeitherWho is the prankster around the house? Both, lolWho loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Faye for sureWho mows the lawn? FreemanWho answers the telephone? BothWho does the vacuuming? BothWho does the groceries? BothWho takes the longest to shower? Uh....Freeman. It relaxes him after workWho spends the most time in the bathroom? Faye 

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Not reallyHow many cars do they own? Just one, Eli sold Faye’s car for extra money.Do they own their home or do they rent? Live in their own homeDo they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? Near the coastDo they live in the city or in the country? Ehhh...outskirts. Close enough to go into the city if they want/need toDo they enjoy their surroundings? Very much soWhat’s their song? They have one but Dani and I forgot what it is lolWhat do they do when they’re away from each other? on a long-term basis, they miss each other like crazy. Every day they still miss each other, but they surviveWhere did they first meet? When Faye was born, lolHow did they first meet? Olivia let Freeman hold baby Faye. With LOTS of supervisionWho spends the most money when out shopping? Faye, because she sees things she likes and justifies why she needs it, even though she doesn’t.Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Uh, neitherWho finds it amusing when the other trips over? Lol they both laugh at each other before helping each other upAny mental issues? Faye has anxiety, depression, and PTSD.Who’s terrified of bugs? Faye hates spiders, but that’s itWho kills the spiders around the house? FreemanTheir favourite place? Wherever the other one isWho pays the bills? FreemanDo they have any fears for their future? Faye fears she won’t be able to have any more children, or that her mental illnesses will completely limit her and what she’s able to do. Freeman is fearful Faye will decide she no longer wants to be with himWho’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? FreemanWho uses up all of the hot water? FreemanWho’s the tallest? Freeman. He towers over Faye lolWho’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? FayeWho wanders around in their underwear? Faye, but only when the kids aren’t aroundWho sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? FayeWhat do they tease each other about? oh, everything lolWho is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? They’re both pretty fashionableDo they have mutual friends? Some, mostly family members lolWho crushed first? I think....Faye? After Freeman saved her from falling off the monkey bars when they were kids. but Freeman wasn’t long after. They just both denied it for a long ass time.Any alcohol or substance related problems? Not anymoreWho is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? NeitherWho swears the most? They both use a healthy amount of swear words lol

[lovelornrocketscientist]

✩ ( Fitzrey – any verse!! )

The ultimate relationship tag || accepting

Sister verse

[  D i s a g r e e m e n t s  ]

Who is more likely to raise their voice?I think Fitz might raise his voice in frustration but not in a rage or anything.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?I don’t think either would threaten to leave. If anyone did, it would probably be Audrey.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?I think if anyone left at all Fitz might go to cool off but he’d come back once he did and I don’t think it’s very likely.

Who trashes the house?Fitz sometimes shoves things on the floor if he gets really upset. I can’t see him getting that angry with Audrey unless the situation was extreme.

Do either of them get physical?No. Never.

How often do they argue/disagree?Not too often. I think they’d talk most things out.

Who is the first to apologise?I think they both would depending on the situation.

[  S e x  ]

Who is on top?Fitz usually—but he’s flexible.

Who is on the bottom?Audrey but it’s 100% negotiable.

Who has the strangest desires?Fitz certainly thinks his are stranger.

Any kinks?Maybe a few…

Who’s dominant in bed?Fitz, when he’s feeling it. Sometimes he likes soft and romantic too, though.

Is head ever in the equation?Definitely.

If so, who is better at performing it?He’s not gonna complain, okay? XD

Ever had sex in public?No.

Who moans the most?Both do, a lot.

Who leaves the most marks?Nothing permanent but Fitz likes to give her some bite marks.

Who screams the loudest?Audrey, usually.

Who is the more experienced of the two?Probably Fitz.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?Both. It just depends on their mood.

Rough or soft?Both, depending on how they feel.

How long do they usually last?Hours apparently. XD

Is protection used?Yes. ...For now.

Does it ever get boring?Not at all.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?On his car. ;)

[  F a m i l y  ]

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?I’m assuming eventually they will.

If so, how many children do your muses want/have?Fitz would have four—but he’s okay with however many.

Who is the favorite parent?Both.

Who is the authoritative parent?Both.

Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?Fitz but for something educational and fun.

Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?Fitz totally would.

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?Both. They’re very involved.

Who goes to parent teacher interviews?Both.

Who changes the diapers?Both.

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?Audrey, unless they can bottle feed at some point.

Who spends the most time with the children?They both spend a lot.

Who packs their lunch boxes?Audrey but Fitz does it if she’s busy or needs him to.

Who gives their children ‘the talk’?Both. 

Who cleans up after the kids?Audrey more than Fitz unless she tells him what to do. (He’s a dude. What can I say?)

Who worries the most?Both.

Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?Fitz. It slipped out! He’s very sorry.

[  A f f e c t i o n  ]

Who likes to cuddle?Both do—a lot.

Who is the little spoon?Depends on who needs it most.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?Fitz might whisper things in her ear for when they get home.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?Both.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?A long time. Hours. Unless they’re discussing something uncomfortable and then it just depends on the conversation.

Who gives the most kisses?Both.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?Eating so far. XD

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?Bed or sofa.

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other?Fitz but I wouldn’t put it past her. XD

How often do they get time to themselves?Daily. 

[  S l e e p i n g  ]

Who snores?Fitz snores lightly but only when he sleeps on his back.

If both do, who snores the loudest?Fitz isn’t that loud.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?Share, of course.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?Cozy up.

Who talks in their sleep?Fitz mumbles sometimes.

What do they wear to bed?Fitz: t-shirt and pajama bottoms/boxers, or nada. Audrey: t-shirt and knickers or cute pajama shorts and top.

Are either of your muses insomniacs?Fitz can be when he’s stressed.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?Not generally.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?Wrap around each other.

Who wakes up with bed hair?Fitz because curls.

Who wakes up first?Audrey. Fitz hates waking up.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?Audrey makes him food to wake him up and they eat together in bed.

What is their favourite sleeping position?Spooning.

Who hogs the sheets?Not Fitz. He’s super hot.

Do they set an alarm each night?Yes.

Can a television be found in their bedroom?Yes.

Who has nightmares?Neither or rarely.

Who has ridiculous dreams?Audrey does and she tells Fitz about them in the morning.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?Neither, they snuggle together.

Who makes the bed?Fitz flips his side back. He’d help her change the bed if she asked him to.

What time is bed time?Eleven or midnight.

Any routines/rituals before bed?Showering and brushing teeth.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?Fitz is grumpy until he has at least one cuppa.

[  W o r k  ]

Who is the busiest?They both are.

Who rakes in the highest income?Fitz makes a little more but they’re pretty close.

Are any of your muses unemployed?Nope.

Who takes the most sick days?Fitz is very healthy and he goes into denial when he does get sick. Audrey doesn’t take many but more than he does.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?Neither.

Who sucks up to their boss?Neither. 

What are their jobs?Fitz is an engineer for SHIELD and Audrey is a doctor for SHIELD.

Who stresses the most?Fitz. He tends to get stuck in his worst-case scenario fantasies.

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?Enjoy, for the most part.

Are your muses financially stable?Definitely.

[  H o m e  ]

Who does the washing?Audrey because Fitz mucks it up.

Who takes out the trash?Fitz.

Who does the ironing?They both do.

Who does the cooking?Audrey but Fitz helps.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?Neither.

Who is messier?Fitz.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?Neither.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?Fitz but not very often.

Who forgets to flush the toilet?Neither. Yuck.

Who is the prankster around the house?Neither.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?Audrey but rarely.

Who mows the lawn?The yard man.

Who answers the telephone?Voicemail.

Who does the vacuuming?Audrey unless she asks Fitz to do it.

Who does the groceries?Audrey unless she tells Fitz what to get.

Who takes the longest to shower?Fitz likes a long shower.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?Audrey usually. Though Fitz spends a good amount of time on his hair in the morning.

[  M i s c e l l a n e o u s  ]

Is money a problem?Nope.

How many cars do they own?Two.

Do they own their home or do they rent?Own.

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?Uh, neither. They live near DC.

Do they live in the city or in the country?City.

Do they enjoy their surroundings?Yes.

What’s their song?You Really Got Me by The Kinks

What do they do when they’re away from each other?Call each other, videochat, phone sex, sexts

Where did they first meet?At a party.

How did they first meet?Fitz was scoffing and being a weirdo. She seemed to like it. ;)

Who spends the most money when out shopping?Audrey but Fitz has his splurges.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?Neither? Maybe Audrey at a concert? lol

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?Neither.

Any mental issues?Not yet!

Who’s terrified of bugs?Both.

Who kills the spiders around the house?Pest control.

Their favourite place?Scotland.

Who pays the bills?Fitz.

Do they have any fears for their future?Losing her or his family for Fitz. 

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?Both.

Who uses up all of the hot water?Neither. They’re both considerate.

Who’s the tallest?Fitz by a hair.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?Both.

Who wanders around in their underwear?Audrey is more likely to.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?Audrey.

What do they tease each other about?Fitz loves to tease her. Could be anything.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?Neither.

Do they have mutual friends?Sure. Eventually.

Who crushed first?Both. It was mutual.

Any alcohol or substance related problems?No.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?Fitz...maybe? After a boy’s night or something? Idk. He’d probably get in trouble for that, though. XD

Who swears the most?Fitz. He is Scottish.

[fakesurprise]

Bends in the Road

3.

I cross the road as Wilbur waves us toward the house and stands at the end of the ramp as though studying the home for a shot. Noah follows me in silence; I leave him to the silence. I knock on the front door once. Twice. After the fourth knock, it’s opened by a man in jeans and a golf shirt. He’s in his early sixties, with a faux military-cut to his hair, sharp eyes and an impatient glare. He wears the clothing uncomfortably; that jumps out. Some people just seem to belong in suits and ties.

“Who are you and why are you here?” he barks.

“We’re students from Rivercomb doing a movie. We’d like to use shots of your house for exterior bits?”

“Oh. You’re not –.” He pauses. Looks past me. “Doing a horror movie with this kid?”

“No,” I say, not looking back at Noah. “He’s the cameraman. Wilbur is the director,” I add.

“Jesus Christ. Well, you tell him he’s not coming up my stairs or on this ramp. I’m not having it broken because someone ate too many big macs.”

The word are flat, without hate, delivered like facts.

“I don’t care what you do about the exterior of this house, but you’re not taking pictures of the ramp, you’re not mentioning me and if you do I am suing you so hard you won’t believe it.”

“Okay.” I turn and walk back toward Wilbur. No thank you, no asking of the man’s name. Noah slips aside to let me pass, follows me down the ramp after.

“So?” Wilbur says.

“Any luck with the ghost?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “It barely existed. I know her name, and that it was hard for her to get to the Grey Lands and back here. No idea why. I would like to know about the funny look you had on your face coming back down the ramp though.”

“You aren’t allowed to go up the ramp, or on the front steps. In case you break them. He thinks we’re using Noah to film a horror movie but, on the plus side, we can take photos of the exterior of the home. So long as they don’t include the wheelchair ramp and if we do that or mention his name, he’s suing us.”

“We’re going to be sued if we film a wheelchair ramp.” Wilbur rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m starting to wonder about this town. If the Outsider active around here has infected them somehow, or if it even needs to.”

“It’s not that bad,” Noah offers softly. We both look over. “They probably all have guns here, and no one has tried to kill us yet?”

“Yet,” I repeat.

“The woman who saw my talent was terrified. The man who opened the door to his home was waiting for someone, angry and scared at the same time.” Noah shrugs. “There might be weirdness going on here that’s just a small town of twenty people?”

“That is about the size of a classroom. And they are pretty weird.” No one has come out of the largest house yet, so I nod to the oldest house in Oscar’s Bend. “Now to door number three. It can’t be any worse than the last two.”

“Do the two of you want to tempt fate?” Wilbur demands. I think he’s joking, but I’m not certain.

The other side of the road is like a different town. Both homes are neater, despite one being a frankenhome affair. There are no fences in Oscars Bend but there are empty lots between the homes that used to have houses. Past the frankenhome is the one local store that, from here, looks to be in decent shape as well. There are tracks in Rivercomb, even if our town hasn’t seen a train in years, and even now you can divide the town up by them in certain ways.

That you can do the same for a town with four homes in it is almost depressing. I lead the way to the oldest house in the town: like the newest, it’s a single-storey affair but the lawn is freshly mowed even if it’s almost past the season where you neat to. The window sills and front porch need painting, but someone has chipped off old pain in preparation for that and the smell of baking comes out between the cracks in the front door.

There is no welcome mat, but I imagine that’s only because it’s in the wash.

I knock. An older woman calls out, “It’s open, dear,” presumably expecting someone local. I knock again and it’s a good twenty seconds before the door is opened by a grandmotherly woman. Late seventies at least, her hair as white as her apron.

“Oh,” she says.”I thought it would be one of the McTavishes! I’m Edith Truman. My husband Gerry is getting various supples in Appleford today, if you wished to speak with him?”

“I’m not sure? I’m Anya. This is Noah and Wilbur. We’re from Rivercomb and hoping to do a short video using the town as a backdrop?”

“Well, Peter McTavish can help with anything YouTube, though Scott and Mark are involved as well. It takes them forever to get their videos out as I understand it but I’ve never watched them. Can’t be bothered with all that internet nonsense myself. Hmm.” Edith peers at Noah and Wilbur without batting an eye. “Well, I have some scones I was going to take next door, but you’re welcome to come inside and have them if you like?”

I look back at the others. Noah nods. Wilbur – who is a good cook but not about to turn down food others makes – hesitates a moment before nodding as well. “If it’s not an imposition?”

“Of course not. We don’t get many visitors here. The last ones were looking for bigfoot or some such, naturally. I do have family in Rivercomb of course,” she adds as she props the door open and heads down a hallway. “And there are lots of houses there as well one could film, but I suppose Oscars Bend is exotic for the area.”

The hallway is wide, lacking even a dresser in it, leading to a spacious kitchen. Everything in it is old but well cared for, rustic without being antique. Edith offers tea, pouring some into cups and brings over homemade biscuits that had been cooling on the counter. “Well,” she says once we’re eating them. “I admit to being quite nosey about my town. I have no desire to be unduly rude about it, but even as your cameraman I’m sure this boy would not be coming to a small town like this on his own?” she asks, nodding to Noah.

“Maybe they dared me,” Noah says softly.

“I imagine you can’t be too picky about who is friends with you, but one must have some standards.”

Noah just stares in shock, saying nothing.

“Have you ever made friends with someone out of guilt?” Wilbur asks into the silence.

Edith barely hesitates. “There was this one black girl when I was younger. I imagine you would understand.”

“I can’t say I do,” Wilbur says after a pregnant pause.  Sometimes Wilbur can be so calm it’s almost scary. “What I can say is that you seemed nice mere minutes ago. I’d like to know if that was a lie before making any further replies.”

Edith sips her tea carefully. “I told you I have relatives in Rivercomb. I have heard stories from my niece about a boy looking like Noah does. I scarcely imagine there are two. The stories suggest that problems follow you. You’ll forgive me if that makes me worried and, frankly, willing to see if I could anger you into departing.”

“Oh.” I finish my tea slowly, consider the cup. “Noah. Catch.”

I throw it toward the ceiling. The cup stops a foot from old wood to gently float down to the table, landing beside Edith. “We have talents.” I say calmly. “They help us deal with things other people can’t. I didn’t think we’d achieved the level of fame to be noticed. Frankly, we have no desire to do that. We know something weird is going down here. We want to stop it from getting weirder. Please.”

Edith Truman picks up the tea cup gently, sets it back down. “And these talents, they have costs?”

“Not in the way you mean, no. Everything has costs, if one has to think in those terms.” I shrug.

“I’ve had some of my talents for a long time,” Wilbur says. “I didn’t always know what they were, or what I could do. but I’ve had them regardless of anything else.” He moves his chair back from the table, rests his hands on his belly. “How much I weigh doesn’t affect than. How Noah looks has nothing to do with his. The same is true for Anya: our talents aren’t some kind of compensation, nor a curse. It might help other people to think that, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“I see. It does, however, make it harder for you to not be noticed. You will have to forgive me for thinking that trouble might follow you rather than you finding it.”

Four months ago, I would have said: ‘We will?’ without thinking. I’m getting better at balancing where my talent ends and I begin. Not so much where I end, and the part of me that isn’t human begins. But I’m working on that. “Our problem in not being from here is that we can’t tell if people are being influenced by something Other or not yet. Knowing the players would help.”

“I’d like to think I’m still me, but I’ve never tried to drive anyone away from Oscars Bend so cruelly before,” Edith admits. “I’ve never said a single rude word to Paul McTavish. I should not have tried to hurt you with them, Noah.”

“Oh!” Noah takes refuge in drinking more of his tea.

“We haven’t met the McTavishes yet. We met someone with unique style choices – and they were definitely freaking out a little over Noah’s talent.”

“Jennifer Smith is – well, she’s been in town for four years, our newest arrival. I know far less about Jennifer than I’d like to know a neighbour, but one must respect privacy. I’ve been told she had a business that ebay ruined it somehow, so Jennifer moved here.”

“And the man who insisted he’s sue us if we took video of a wheelchair ramp?”

“I’m amazed Bob didn’t think you were a trap,” Edith murmurs.

“A trap.”

“His son Alvin is confined to a wheelchair, and has – very limited responses. He can do very little on his own.”

“Okay? And random strangers knocking on the front door is a trap because –?” I press.

Edith Truman pours herself more tea. “I should not tell you this, but I doubt you will leave town without learning some things. Alvin Plint does not go to school.”

“Homeschooling isn’t a crime,” Noah says, almost sharply His birth parents might have been human monsters, but they at least made sure he was relatively educated.

“Alvin isn’t home schooled. Bob is aware of the limitations of his son. Perhaps too aware. Alvin cannot walk, talk, sit up or feed himself. His father has no desire for Alvin to burden the school system or society. That a child is a burden to a parent is a fact; that his son should not burden others is another.”

“A fact,” I repeat.

“Their are social workers who have disagreed with Bob. I believe it is one reason they moved on Oscars Bend but I am not privy to any others.”

“The hallway.” Wilbur looks back to the front door. “It is wide enough for a wheelchair.”

“Alvin and Bob visit every so often. I think you misunderstand: Bob looks after his son, makes sure he is taken care of and healthy. The rest is between him and God, I think.”

I take a breath, let it out. We don’t know the whole story here. We never will. “You will have to forgive me,” I say, dropping Edith’s words back at her, “if I cannot refrain from judgement.”

“Of course, dear, We often judge. We seldom realize that we are only called upon to witness.” She stands. “The McTavishes make up over half of own town: if you seek answers to why you came here, I imagine they know it.”

[corystssides]

Our House

Words: 1115

Summary: Everyone ends up at Logan and Patton’s houses at some point.

Warnings: None, I think

Tags: @yep-another-fander, @softlogic @literallylogic, @tssanderssidestrash, and @diplomatic-arsonist (idk if you wanted tagged in all future fics or just a sequel for Bottled, lmk)

Everyone ended up at Logan and Patton’s houses at some point or another. That was just how things were. Everyone knew where the two lived, in the innocently named “Logicality Suburbs” of the mindscape. The two weren’t exactly neighbors, living a couple blocks from each other, but they were close enough. Close enough to say “With you, I’m always home.”

Patton loved being at home. He was a father, and enjoyed every minute of being a typical suburban dad. He had two children that he loved spending time with, and a wealth of neighbors who he could help and have barbeques with. He made cookies for his kids’ bake sales, mowed the lawn, invited Susan and Brenda over for tea and gossip, and in general, if he wasn’t helping out Thomas, he was in the home, enjoying life.

Roman visited Patton when he wanted to experience “the average life.” Most often, he was off slaying dragons, visiting castles, attending balls, and rescuing princes and princesses, never staying in one place, and with no real place to call home. Often, he considered “anywhere he could see stars” as being his home. Still, sometimes it was nice to imagine a realistic future. Sometimes it was comforting to feel like he could be part of a family, and while Patton had no spouse, seeing him live one of Thomas’s “happily ever after” scenarios often revitalized Roman when he felt weary and his creativity had dried up.

Logan visited Patton’s side of the suburbs when he craved distraction. Sometimes, the essays from the figment students were too bothersome to grade, or the plans he made for Thomas simply wouldn’t come together. Some days, he was just lonely, and Patton’s frequent barbeques or baking activities could distract him enough to almost forget that he didn’t really have friends. Sure, his relationship with Anxiety had leveled up from “casually bickering all the time,” and he and Patton were constantly at each other’s house, or at a PTA meeting together, or working together to make the figment neighbors act more normal, but he and the emotional sides still had a significant disconnect, and he wasn’t sure they would ever bridge that gap. And Roman? While the creative side had never openly stated that he disliked Logan, as he had with Anxiety, it was clear that they were natural antagonists. Imagination and Logic were not naturally aspects that went together well, and any alliances they had made in the past were short-lived and created only to keep the emotional traits in check. So while he accepted that he wouldn’t have friends, when the thoughts in his mind were too much, he went to play pretend with everyone else in the suburb.

Anxiety visited Patton when he needed constancy. Nothing ever stayed the same in his part of the mindscape, not even his own house. It was impossible to tell what was real and what was just the Fears and Insecurities messing around and shifting the shapes of things. But Patton’s house? The layout was always clear and easy to remember. The kids were always the same age, and always eager to talk to their “older cousin.” The cookies always tasted the same, the grilled burgers were always the same shade of overcooked, and the door was always unlocked. So when it got to the point beyond “something is wrong” and Anxiety was so frazzled that no one could think straight, Anxiety went to see Patton.

Logan’s house was a less visited, though no less important, part of the mindscape. Even he wasn’t there very often. Logan considered his home to be in the classroom, so even when there were no children, he was often there, putting student art on the walls, grading papers, preparing for parent-teacher conferences, or chatting with the other teacher figments. So when he went back to his house, it was because he wanted quiet. His home was where he went to get away from everything and everyone. It didn’t always work out that way, but often, his house served as a quiet place of refuge.

Patton went to Logan’s house when he wanted an escape. Certainly, he loved being a parent and neighbor, but sometimes the kids were too loud, the neighbors too nosy, and the entire block was just too busy. When that happened, he went to Logan’s, where there was always a guarantee of calm bachelorhood waiting with a coffee in one hand and a logical outlook in the other. Logan could provide a couch and silent company when Patton just needed to unfrazzle his senses, or an ear and some practical advice when Patton wanted to talk things through.

Anxiety visited Logan when he needed comfort. It might seem odd, at first--after all, Patton was far better with dealing with emotions--but Logan could calm Anxiety far better than any of the others. When he was overwrought, Logan could calmly point out the fallacies that Anxiety had made in order to get to that point, and logically explain why things would naturally turn out more positive than what Anxiety imagined. When he had worked himself up so much that he was having an attack, Logan provided a soothing voice and a quiet environment that slowly and surely brought him back to a calmer place. Logan’s rationality worked wonders for Anxiety’s mental state, and even when he was calm, Anxiety enjoyed debating through fears and insecurities, because Logan could tell him that things were going to turn out alright, objectively.

Roman rarely came to Logan, but when he did, it was to feel grounded. Every once in a while, Roman would spend too much time in the imagination, to the point where Imagination ran away with him, and he couldn’t tell what was reasonable and what was preposterous. In Logan’s home realm, Logic was the most powerful force. Just being there cleared Roman’s head, letting him separate fantasy and reality once more. The two opposing sides didn’t even have to talk about anything related to that for it to work. They could argue as they always did, and Roman would still feel Imagination’s grip on him loosen. He would never say it, but he was grateful for Logan’s effect. After all, while Creativity relied on Imagination, he needed to know what the reality of a situation was, or he would prescribe climbing towers or slaying dragon-witches as the solutions to all of Thomas’s problems.

The two houses, though very near in distance, were worlds apart. They were nearly opposites in moods and use, and yet both were probably the most important parts of the mindscape. They were the pillars of Thomas, much like the two that inhabited them.