IT WAS FINALLY IN STOCK AND I GOT IT A WHILE AGO AND I GOT VICIOUS TOO BECAUSE THEYRE ALWAYS OUT OF STOCK
i can’t start either rn but please tell me and no idc about spoilers
does addie larue die by the booke finale??
HIIII so, whosever is reading this be aware of spoilers below the cut!
nope my love! addie is cursed with immortality, which is basically the main plot (so no major spoiler) vut she does not die because in fact, she cannot 🫶
this event has successfully come to an end! thanks to everyone who voted, and even if you didn’t i hope you can still have fun and enjoy the results.
there were many ties (scenes with the same amount of votes) so the places ranked are less than the actual scenes candidates. i hope you understand i couldn’t divide them as they all had the same vote percentage.
due to tumblr’s picture limit i had to make a different post for PART 2! (turn on light mode for a better experience).
!! please share & reblog. it took me a lot of time to search all the scenes and screenshot them! 🤍🫶
so…. drum rollsss…. 🥁🥁
15th place (7%)
avery seeing grayson’s photographs for the first time
jameson not looking at avery as eve was only wearing a towel
14th place (9,3%)
avery talking to toby for the first time (not as harry)
13th place (14%)
grayson breaking down in the wine cellars
hannah trying to wake avery up from coma saying “come on avery, i have a secret!”
libby baking at any stressful moment
12th place (16,3%)
gigi and matthias’ first encounter
grayson teaching avery how to sword fight
grayson choosing avery over skye
(i can’t find the scene anymore)
javery mud scene
11th place (18,6%)
nash and libby’s magic 8 ball
nash giving nan’s ring to grayson because “why not you, grayson?”
rohan and jameson’s fight scene
xander helping rebecca when her mother was drunk
i couldn’t find the scene anymore
10th place (20,9%)
grayson leather pants
max telling xander that he forgot his phone in his room (what was she doing in his room?)
avery realizing she imagines jameson standing behind her at a cliff
jameson protecting avery from the bullet in the Blackwood forest
9th place (23,3%)
the brothers playing truth or dare in the treehouse
max absolutely shipping javery
8th place (25,6%)
nash helping libby dye her hair in rainbow colour
“but mostly, i can’t hate him, avery kylie grambs, because he brought me to you”
grayson saying “est unus ex nobis. nos defendat eius.”
avery reading her mother’s postcards and jameson saying “everyone out”
7th place (27,9%)
“what are your thoughts on milkshake and yards?”
max flying tackling xander
jameson giving avery the infinity ring
gigi getting drunk on one mimosa and four cups of coffee
6th place (30,2%)
grayson and xander let it go duet
jameson gifting libby a picture with hannah, her and little avery
avery burning jameson’s secret so nobody could read it
Can you make Briggs x Sterling hcs (suggestive/smutty and not?)
SECRET HCS — briggs x sterling
NOTES ? ! mama y papa… i need them together again. (also, their meeting is not the same as the book).
! 18+ and not
They first met when Director Sterling was recruiting new agents
And obviously he used Veronica to help him
Tanner was cocky and smug, whenever he trained he would get under Veronica’s skin
But Veronica was better than him and he’d end up training overtime
When she complained about him to Scarlett, she started shipping them
When Director Sterling decided they’d become partners, his daughter wasn’t happy at all.
She was too emotional, since she worked hard to be a profiler she wanted every single case closed. At cost of her own safety.
Whereas Tanner was logical, he would never risk her, even if it meant catching a killer
The first time they did it she had almost gotten herself kidnapped
They were arguing on the way back, Tanner’s hands gripping the wheel so tight
“We were so close, Briggs, why couldn’t you just let me do it?”
“Because I can’t risk losing you, damn it!” he stopped the car
They kissed deeply and she climbed on his lap.
Sex for them is wild, with teeth clashing and hair pulling
He loves eating her out, feeling her nails rank his back as her body convulses in pleasure
“You like that, Ronnie?”
“Shut up and lick, Briggs.”
It didn’t take much for them to realise they were foolishly in love with each other and get married.
However, after Scarlett’s death, Veronica was never the same.
She drowned herself in work, she became obsessed with arresting killers and deliver justice. A justice Scarlett never had.
But the same obsession made her make a mistake and she got kidnapped by Daniel Redding.
When Briggs found out, he saw red and almost got himself kidnapped too, if it hadn’t been for Judd who stopped him.
Sterling managed to escape on her own, with Dean’s help, and they finally were able to arrest Daniel.
Scarred not only physically but also mentally, Veronica Sterling could no longer be what people expected her to be. A good wife and a strong agent.
So she filled out her divorce paper and her resignation letter.
Briggs didn’t want to divorce, he tried so hard to fight for them, but it was one-sided. His Ronnie had gone.
When she came back, to Director Sterling’s order and because she didn’t trust Briggs to handle the naturals well, he was relieved.
Seeing her face after so much time hurt him, though.
They hooked up in secret sometimes, even when they were broken up.
No one can make them feel like each other
They realised just how much they cared for each other when Nightbane injected Briggs with the venom
Veronica took him to the hospital and prayed, and when the killer told them the antidote, she ran to get it
Fortunately, it hadn’t passed enough time for it to kill him, so they were able to save Briggs
When he woke up, a little disoriented from the medical induced coma they had put him under to slow his heartbeat and his blood pressure, Veronica was holding his hand, her head resting uncomfortably against the bed.
“Ronnie… you’ll get a sore neck like that.”
She was so relieved, she hugged him so tight he almost chocked.
From then on, they decided they would try and see where their hearts took them. No expectation, no labels.
SYNOPSIS: if gigi grayson was the sunshine, then mattias slater was the shadow, ready to shield her from any danger.
WARNINGS: fluff, making out, set in: sometime after glorious rivals. NOT PROOFREAD.
WC: 2.6k
ALEXA PLAYS: Shadow by SEVENTEEN
📌: @xo-zozo @runnningoutofink @coffeexsmmrsblog @tooprecious2gamble @defiantlynocturnalsteel @hannahcharlie @taysversionah @bookless-bookworm @saythewordheiress @leenloveslotsofthings (lmk if you want to be added or removed!)
⪩⪨ . notes ! i love writing gigi it feels like writing my internal monologues 😄 hope you like this oneshot!
Mister Shadow hadn’t come to meet Gigi the way he said he would.
Well, to be fair, he’d never actually said he would. She was the one who told him to come meet her on Tuesdays.
He hadn’t agreed, of course, Mister Shadow never agreed to anything, but she liked to think he’d heard her anyway. That stubborn, beautiful man.
The Hawthorne brothers were caught up in Avery’s kidnapping, her twin was buried in midterms back on campus, because she was the responsible twin, while Gigi always thought of her to be the impulsive one.
She was a woman on a mission under the orders of Rohan No Last Name in London.
Problem? She still hadn’t received any order from him, and it’d been two weeks.
So, naturally, Gigi did the only logical thing in her illogical mind: she went to a not-entirely-legal party.
There were worse choices she could’ve made. Like cutting her bangs again, because that hadn’t escalated well. Or give go back to Phoenix and give Fluffy Cloud a bath, the old cat that has knifes instead of claws.
Boredom, as she’d recently discovered, was a vicious creature.
She’d already done every makeup tutorial TikTok had to offer, explored the London Bridge three times, given herself a butterfly cut that had turned out surprisingly well, and even knitted the fitted green top she was now proudly wearing.
So yes, she absolutely deserved a night out.
The bass was pounding with deafening music, the air smelled like sweat and questionable decisions, and the red solo cup in her hand was full of something called Gin Lemon.
It was mostly gin, very little lemon, and absolutely terrible.
But it distracted her from the one thought she didn’t want to have.
Mister Shadow hadn’t come. And as much as she hated to admit it, she missed him.
She took another sip anyway, scrunching her nose as the drink burned its way down her throat.
Her body swayed to the rhythm, surrounded by strangers whose bodies were warm and soft around her.
Gigi didn’t know a single person there, mostly because she had infiltrated a college rave party, but that had never stopped her before.
Blending in was her secret superpower.
How, you may ask? Easy.
She’d grabbed a random brochure of the college on her way in, picked a major for the night (psychology sounded fun!) and decided to pretend she was a bright young student obsessed with Freud. She’d even mentally high-fived the old man.
Thank you, caffeine, for making this possible. Three coffees in, and Gigi Grayson was invincible.
Her heart was almost pounding its way out of her chest!
“Hey, pretty girl.” The voice came from behind her, warm and half-slurred. A thick British accent underlined by the alcohol.
She turned, and there stood a tall guy with messy hair and eyes the green of polished glass. They reminded her of Jameson Hawthorne’s, though less kind.
“Hi,” she said brightly, smiling wide because being called pretty always deserved a smile.
“You look like you’re having fun,” he said, leaning close enough that she caught a whiff of his drink, too much gin an too little something else “Mind if I join?”
“The dance floor’s for everyone,” she answered, sipping again and trying not to grimace at the taste.
“Perfect,” he grinned, slipping a hand around her waist.
She didn’t love the touch, but she also didn’t pull away.
It wasn’t about flirting, it was about having something, someone, to anchor her in the noise.
If this green-eyed stranger — who would be called Chat Noir (reference: the green eyes) — wanted to be her dance partner for the night, she wasn’t going to argue.
Except then, goosebumps prickled up her neck. The kind that whispered she was being watched, and her heartbeat stuttered.
Her subconscious, Friend Freud would say, and Mister Shadow, Gigi would correct.
“I suggest you move that hand a little north.”
The voice rolled out like thunder. She turned toward it instantly.
There he was, leaning against the wall, half-hidden by the blinding lights, one leg bent casually as if he belonged to the shadows themselves.
Mister Shadow, commonly known as Mattias Slater. MS.
neon lights painted his silhouette in flickers of pink and blue, but she didn’t need light to picture him. She knew those dark eyes, nearly black. She knew the scar carved through his eyebrow.
And she hadn’t even realized until now that Chat Noir’s hand had drifted just a little too low.
“Better yet,” Slate said calmly, “remove your hand from her if you still want it attached to your body.”
The guy froze. And like every reasonable man who sensed mortal danger, he immediately obeyed “Didn’t know she was taken,” he muttered before melting into the crowd.
Slate stepped forward, his presence like a shadow cutting through neon light.
He positioned himself between Gigi and a group of swaying frat boys without saying a word. Ever the protective bastard.
“I’m not off limits,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly.
“You’re testing my limits,” he muttered, voice low and edged with annoyance.
She noticed then,there was a small cut on his lip that almost made him look like the Joker.
She reached up, brushing her fingers over it gently. “What happened here?”
“Complications.” Slate replied gruffly.
She let her hand linger a second longer before sliding it behind his neck, pulling him just a little closer as she swayed “And let me guess, those ‘complications’ kept you from our date?”
“We didn’t have a date.”
“Yes, we did.” She smiled, mischievous “You promised flowers and everything, and it’s Friday so you’re three days late.”
“I never promised you flowers.”
“Then it must’ve been a dream,” she said sweetly.
Slate took the red cup from her before she could sip again. His expression said you’ve had enough, and hers said try me.
“Maybe,” she added, her grin tilting, “you should try harder to make my dreams come true.”
Her arms looped easily around his neck, eyes dancing with a strange feeling of euphoria.
The music pulsed through the floor, and Gigi swayed closer until she could feel Slate’s breath ghost past her cheek.
“You know,” she murmured, half-laughing “you could at least pretend to dance.”
“I am dancing,” he said flatly.
“No, you’re standing.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close.” She rocked on her feet, tilting her head, curls brushing his jaw “You’re so stiff. Are you allergic to rhythm?”
“I’m allergic to bad decisions.”
“Then you’re in the wrong place, Mister Shadow.” Her grin was wickedly bright “This entire party is one massive bad decision.”
“Starting with you being here.” Slate’s battered eyebrow raised.
“Exactly! So at least I’m consistent.”
He made a sound that might’ve been a sigh… or a laugh, though Slate’s versions of those were nearly identical.
His hands stayed resolutely at his sides, but the muscle in his jaw ticked every time she swayed closer. He curled and uncurled hiß fingers.
“You can touch me,” she said, teasing, voice dipping into a near whisper. “I don’t bite.”
He looked down at her, unimpressed. “You absolutely bite.”
“Only if provoked.”
“Not helping.” he groaned.
“Helping what?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes did that thing where they softened but refused to admit it.
“Come on, Slate. You came all the way here just to frown at me?” Gigi tilted her head like a dog trying to figure out its owners’ orders.
“To make sure you didn’t end up with idiots who don’t know where to put their hands.” he retorted.
“Aw,” she smiled, “that’s almost sweet, even for a muscled goblin, but I’m sure Chat Noir had no ill intentions.”
He exhaled, and the sound was halfway between fondness and exasperation. “You’re drunk.”
“Barely.” ahe replied “I’m just a little shiny around the edges.”
“Sunshine,” he said, the word slow, warning, “let me take you back to the hotel.”
Her eyes lit up, stubborn. “I don’t want to go back yet.”
“You need sleep.”
“Actually,” Gigi thought for a moment “I need fries, I’m hungry.”
“You need water.”
“I need you to stop being a killjoy.” She poked his chest “Let’s walk. Fresh air, stars, philosophical conversations, come on, live a little.”
“Philosophical conversations?”
“Yes, you can brood and I can talk, and it’ll be a perfect balance. besides, psychology is my major of the night.” Gigi winked.
He stared at her for a beat too long, then muttered, “You’re too much sunshine for a person.”
“And yet,” she said brightly, tugging on his sleeve, “here you are, following me out the door.”
He didn’t deny it.
Outside, the night air felt cool and almost gentle after the heat of the party. The city hummed with distant noise, and Gigi hugged her arms at the biting wind “See? So much better.”
“London,” he said dryly, “where it’s not even nice in summer.”
“Exactly. Poetic, ain’t it? There’s something about this greyish weather.” Gigi looked around, breathing the icy air in.
She swung her hands dramatically, “You never tell me what you think about things. It’s unfair, you know. I say something, and you just frown like a tragic novel character.”
“I don’t frown.” Slate replied, pulling her aside when a bicycle brushed too close for his likings.
“Mm, disagree.” She stopped walking suddenly and spun around to face him, the streetlight catching in her eyes “Fine, let’s play a game called I Ask You Answer.”
“No.”
Gigi smiled, “Yes.”
“Gigi.” his voice had an edge.
“Slate.”
He sighed, already defeated. “One question.”
“Three.” she continued stubbornly
“One.” Slate tried again.
“Two and a half.”
“Fine.” Slate sighed again.
She grinned, triumphant. “Okay. Question one: do you like my top?”
He blinked, clearly not expecting that. He ranked his eyes over the greenish fabric, “It’s… knitted.”
“That’s not an opinion!” she protested. “That’s an observation.”
“It’s fine.” Slate said, chocolate brown eyes ranking her up and down, stopping just for a couple of seconds on the exposed skin of her cleavage.
She gasped dramatically. “You hate it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking about how you manage to talk this much without breathing.” he said, looking away from her. Though Gigi noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.
She wasn’t sure if Mattias Slater was capable of blushing.
“Talent,” she said proudly “Now, question two— why did you come to this party?”
“To drag you out before you could make more bad decisions.” Slate replied, turning her around and placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her back to the hotel.
She laughed, “So protective, Eve must really like having you as a bodyguard.”
He glanced sideways at her, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth “Why? Do you need a bodyguard too?”
“Would you become mine if I asked?”
He didn’t answer this time.
Just looked at her— for too long and too quietly. She didn’t seem to notice, still rambling as they turned the corner.
“So anyway, I knitted this top. it took me hours. I watched like six tutorials and stabbed myself with the needle twice, which, honestly, felt very on brand.” She spread her arms like she was presenting a masterpiece.
He glanced at her top again, more carefully this time. “You made that?”
“Yup.” Gigi nodded.
“It’s… not terrible.” Slate replied.
“That’s practically a compliment!”
“Don’t push it.” his lips curled into a smirk.
She laughed, tossing her hair back. “You secretly like it.”
“I secretly wish you’d stop talking about it.”
“Impossible,” she said, grinning. “You walked into the chaos, Slate. Me, I’m chaos.”
He shook his head, but the edge of his mouth twitched “You’re exhausting.”
“You’re smiling,” she pointed out. “Don’t deny it, I can see it.”
“Must be a trick of the light.”
“Sure, sure.” She bumped her shoulder against his, “For Mister Shadow, you’re terrible at staying invisible.”
He turned to look at her then, really look. The kind of look that made her stop talking for half a second.
“Anyways,” she processed to break the moment by saying “I think we’re kinda like Bella Swan and Edward Cullen when she was riding a motorcycle while drinking milk, I need to get in trouble to have your attention.”
“You always have it, Sunshine.”
┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈
They reached the hotel in the soft buzz of midnight lights, Gigi talking a mile a minute about how she’d somehow been roped into a badminton match with a bunch of British rich people.
Slate listened, mostly quiet, while she described how she’d lost every single set “But they gave me afternoon tea,” she said proudly, holding her chin high “Which was, you know, practically a reward for public humiliation.”
Slate’s lips curved, just barely “You earned it, then.”
“You’re mocking me, Mister Shadow,” she said, pointing a wobbly finger at him but failing to look stern because she was grinning too hard.
Before he could reply, she slipped her hand through his arm and led him to her room, as though he hadn’t already memorised the way to 553.
The suite looked like a catalogue for chaos.
Clothes were draped over chairs and across the bed, an open suitcase sulking in the corner.
A trail of shiny sneakers and glittering jewelry led toward the bathroom, as if a very sparkly hurricane had passed through.
It was very Gigi.
Slate went straight to the minibar, pulling out a cold bottle of water and unscrewing it before handing it to her.
She sat on the edge of the bed, legs swinging, cheeks flushed, hair loose and slightly tangled. The water bottle pressed cool against her palms, grounding her a little.
“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” she asked, squinting at him.
Slate didn’t answer, and that silence said enough.
“Then why are you?” She tilted her head, blue eyes curious and too bright for the dim light. Too bright for the ugly world “Why do you keep coming back to me?”
“The same reason why,” he said, kneeling down in front of her, his voice unexpectedly gentle, “you wait for me.”
For a heartbeat, the air stilled.
The room, the city, everything seemed to shrink until there was only her heartbeat and the weight of his stare.
Gigi studied him, really studied him— the faint scar on his eyebrow that she so desperately wanted to know the story of, the sharp bridge of his nose, the kind of mouth that looked like it had forgotten how to smile.
Her mind was not built for overthinking; her impulses ran faster than logic ever could. So she leaned in and kissed him.
Her hands were on his shoulders, small and unsure. For a second, he didn’t move, and panic started to flutter up her throat— until he kisses her back.
His hand came up to her jaw, firm but careful, guiding her closer as his lips deepened the kiss.
Her first kiss.
Gigi’s very first kiss, and she was having it with Mattias Slater. M A T T I A S S L A T E R!
The same Mattias who wasn’t supposed to be there with her.
Her brain felt like fireworks, her heart like confetti and she really wanted fries.
She nipped playfully at his lower lip, and Slate rewarded her with a sound, a quiet, involuntary groan that sent a shiver straight through Gigi.
In a blink, he lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighted nothing.
He laid her on the bed with a gentleness that contradicted his size, adjusting the pillow behind her head before leaning down again.
Their mouths met once more, a wordless push and pull, hungry and tender all at once.
When he finally drew back, both their breaths were unsteady and Slate rested his forehead against hers.
His eyes, usually so unreadable or unimpressed, looked almost pained.
“You’re going away,” she whispered.
“I should,” he said, thumb brushing her cheek.
“And you’re not coming back soon.”
“No.” His Adam apple moved as he swallowed, and Gigi had the ridiculous urge to trace it with her lips, to memorize the shape of him.
“I still have one question left,” she said softly, reminding him of their unfinished game “What does this mean? Us.”
Slate closed his eyes, exhaled, and kissed her again—slow and deep . The kind of kiss that felt like both a confession and a goodbye.
She melted against him, clutching at the back of his neck, desperate to keep him there, to hold him in that perfect, impossible moment.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Everything,” he said, turning her so her back was against his chest, his arm looping loosely around her waist, “and nothing at all.”
“I like the first option better,” she murmured, half-drowsy, her body sinking into his warmth “delusional, am I not?”
His chuckle was soft against her ear. “Keep dreaming, Sunshine.”
“Always,” she whispered, eyes already fluttering shut.
“Then Mister Shadow will show up,” he murmured, the faintest smile ghosting his lips, “sooner or later.”
CAN YOU PLS DO GRAYSON AND SLOANE PLATONIC CROSSOVER HEADCANONS
SLOANE & GRAYSON HCS — tig x the naturals
NOTES ? ! sloane is basically gigi in coolvetica (i hope these hcs make sense?)
ALEXA PLAYS: Sunroof by Nicky Youre & hey daisy
Grayson got to know Sloane through Gigi
Gigi met Sloane at a party she wasn’t supposed to attend, she was trying to figure out the odds of Savannah getting mad if she found out and a pretty girl beside her suddenly said “there’s 65% of chances a parent or a cared figure gets mad after discovering their dear ones are at parties”
They clicked instantly
So when Gigi brought Sloane over, Grayson should’ve known better than offer her coffee
Headache 2.0
Savannah enjoyed watching him trying to calm Sloane’s statistics mumbling
Grayson forbid her from getting best coffee ever again
Soon he noticed she is very smart and intelligent, so he asks her for help at Avery’s charity organisation
Her knowledge in probabilities and risks allowed Grayson to make smarter choices
He grew attached to her, mostly because she reminds him of Gigi, and Grayson loves Gigi
But Sloane isn’t that much of a yapper, and she also doesn’t believe much in herself
Grayson had the sudden urge to find whoever hurt her and make them pay
Once Sloane said she really loved swimming but she didn’t want to do it back at the house with the Naturals because Dean usually used the pool (plus it creeps her out the corpse drawn on the bottom)
So Grayson let her use the swimming pool at Hawthorne house, forbidding anyone to enter when she’s there
When Sloane had to go back, he acted like it didn’t matter to him
But he sometimes checks on her, through a phone call or texts (she’s a worse dry texter than him)
Sloane told him all about The Naturals project and her found family, she is very fond of Cassie mostly, but she knows Micheal also cares deeply for her
That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about Lia and Dean, but she knew they fancy each other more
Bonus: Micheal reminds Grayson of Jameson so he took a liking to him
Cassie cares deeply, while Dean doesn’t want to care for anyone.
Managing their relationship isn’t easy, they have late night meaningful conversations, but they learn how to communicate
For his 18th birthday, Dean received a blueish Ford Ranger from Briggs
That same night, he woke Cassie up and they had a little run away date
They drove away from the city and reached a hill where they could see the stars
Their first time happened in the open part of the car, with fluffy blankets and shared giggles
Cassie doesn’t have experience with boys. And Dean isn’t used to girls seeing him as more than his father’s son, so they are each others’ first in everything
They cuddled under the stars after, bodies tangled together
Dean loves when Cassie caresses his back and shoulders, her nails drawing little circles on his skin
Lia is always teasing Cassie and Dean, but she is truly happy for them
Though whenever they have an argument she always sides with Dean
When they are playing together in the living room, like strip poker, Dean can’t take his eyes off Cassie and Sloane never fails to point it out
“Dean has been staring at Cassie’s cleavage for one minute, thirty-six seconds and fifteen milliseconds.”
Sometimes he gets so closed up in his head, the demons clawing at his soul, but Cassie always manages to bring him back
Cassie spends more time in Dean’s room than in her own
Mostly because they both can’t seem to sleep unless they have the other near
They are an invincible team, two powerful profilers that can crawl into a killer’s head. Dangerous couple, uh?
They love each other so much they can’t stand the idea of one of them getting hurt.
Dean is scared of his feelings, he thinks loving Cassie too much will eventually drive her away, but when he wakes up next to her, counting the freckles on her back, he knows everything will be alright
I got a request...🤭🤭 the most underrated ship in the tig fandom.
Jamie rohan. I beg. I BEG. HEADCANONS ABT THEM TOGETHER. I BEGGGGGGG PLEASEPLEASEPLEASS
DEVIL HCS — rohan x jameson
NOTES ! ? anon, what the fuck 😭 but i honestly see the vision loool. i tried my best with these🤞😽
! slightly suggestive
“Enemies to lovers is our trope, Buxbaum” but it’s Rohan saying this to Jameson
There’s is not one (1) day that passes without them bickering / insulting each other
Rohan was actually turned on when Jameson wouldn’t stay down during their rink fight (who said that…)
Jameson helps Rohan shave his stubble, him standing between his legs, gripping his hair just because he can
Jameson always makes fun of his British accent, exaggerating it to get under his skin “Oh, Hellow lav, do you nee’ a bot’ of wa’er?”
He does that because he knows he’ll end up tackled by him
Jameson yells “kinky” whenever they fight and are in a strange position
Rohan invites Jameson at the Devil’s Mercy games even if the proprietor doesn’t like that, and he gives him hints on who to bet
Jameson knows better than using those hints because they are always wrong
Sometimes they disappear in the lust section
Jameson alone is unhinged. Rohan alone is unhinged too. But together, they are menaces.
Rohan enjoys stealing candies from babies
Their favourite dates are movie dates and they usually watch Descendants
When Rohan has nightmares about his childhood, Jameson is always there to reassure him by stroking his hair. He doesn’t know why, but it always calms him.
While when Jameson gets a little reckless, Rohan is the only one who can bring him back and settle him down
Overall, they’re very toxic for each other but they don’t really care
Average conversation be like “You’re homeless and you don’t have a penny ha ha.” “Yeah, you’re laughing but your father hates you anyways.”
Jameson calls Rohan “beautiful” when he’s deep in concentration solving something. Rohan pretends not to hear it every time, but his neck always turns red.
They once had a make out session in the library at Hawthorne house Avery walked in on them
Rohan loves giving Jameson hickeys, because he can never hide them well
