Either they both go after it, or Ty starts flinging shoes at it.
002. . . . proposed
I feel like the answer is Adam but I can totally see Ty doing it if he gathered enough braincells to come up with a good way to go about it.
003. . . . kissed the other first
The first time they ever kissed was probably Ty’s doing, and it was probably way before anything serious happened between them But the first time they kissed when anything serious happened would probably be Ty too.
004. . . . initiates things
Usually Ty, but Adam does have his moments.
005. . . . would leave the other
I don’t think they would, but if either ever were too it’d probably be Adam.
006. . . . is more jealous
Ty is the more jealous one, but he’s also the one to give Adam more reasons to be jealous than the other way around so they balance each other out.
007. . . . is lazier
Ty.
008. . . . sends weird texts at 3 AM
Ty usually does it to check if Adam’s up, but Adam definitely does it too from time to time
009. . . . is more experienced
A good question. Possibly Ty?
010. . . . said i love you first
Adam, but they’ve definitely been saying it to each other for a minute before they actually get together.
Ty didn’t cry. He didn’t really get sad, he usually just got angry. Obviously, that wasn’t really the case, but that was what he liked to portray to the rest of the world. The truth was his emotions were a lot more complex than that, and he just… didn’t care enough to sort through them all. What he did know was that he fucking hated his father. His entire family, really. Hell, his entire existence was more accurate.
His father didn’t care about him —- he was just an asset to his career. A prop he would use and hide away whenever he wasn’t needed. He caught onto this since he was young and spotted all the patterns. But deep down, deep in his very core, he liked to think he was just being dramatic. That maybe he was still stuck in his angsty teen phase… even if it started around the age of eight. But that night his father all but confirmed it to him. The story of his adoption was one filled with mystery. He knew of what his dad told the papers — that he ‘rescued him from a crack den that was hours from being raided’. But, as he suspected, that story was nothing more than that, a story.
The actual events that transpired were a lot more depressing, and made him seem less like the hero he tried to make himself out to be. His parents were struggling addicts, but there was no ‘drug den’. There was no raid. They lived with his grandmother, who was nearly bedridden at that point. Instead of offering them help, a chance to clean up and give their son a normal life, he offered them hush money, and lots of it, in order to paint the picture he wanted to for the public. And when he told his father why that made him so hateful towards the old man? He simply reminded him that they accepted it: ‘happily’.
The last part he wasn’t quick to believe, but he did have a point. He was fucked up for what he did, but so were they. They didn’t want him. If they really wanted him they wouldn’t have taken a bribe. But if his own parents, the people who actually made him, didn’t want him —- then who would? Warren Harris, but only to when it suited his stupid campaign.
He left the house before he let anyone there got to see his reaction, his spiraling. Because as much as he wanted to act like none of it affected him, it did. And after pushing it all down for so long, it was practically forced out of him. He’d spent most of the day out. He didn’t really go anywhere, just sort of walked until he decided to go home because he needed to smoke (he had been sober the entire day, he earned it). He kept his hoodie up, hoping it would successfully hide the red puffiness surrounding his eyes from Adam. But he knew better. Well, he knew Adam knew better. The blonde knew him better than anyone else on the planet, himself included. He could have lied all he wanted, but it was pretty clear by the end of the night the other was going to know everything that happened.
And yet, he still tried to keep his cover for a little longer. “What? It’s nothing.” He lied, followed by a more than telling sniffle. If anything, he could have said he did a line or two somewhere. “Uh, I’m gonna pop in my room but if you wanna smoke it’ll be ready in five minutes.” He announced, his voice a bit quieter than usual as he ducked into his bedroom (avoiding eye contact as much as he possibly could).
∗ o3﹕ a text sent out of worry . ( mun's choice! )
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑬 . ( a collection of texting prompts . )
Dewey ↔ Jake 🧡 🍑 : Jake, it’s Dewey
Dewey ↔ Jake 🧡 🍑 : I’m in the hospital. I was attacked, by someone in a Ghostface costume.
Dewey ↔ Jake 🧡 🍑 : I’m alright, my arm caught most of the damage. I just wanted you to hear it from me rather than somewhere else
Dewey ↔ Jake 🧡 🍑 : I don’t know if this means things are starting again, I hope not, but I wouldn’t advise coming. You’re safer over there right now
Dewey ↔ Jake 🧡 🍑 : Love you.
contact name: adam 🥀✨
ringtone: ♫ bottom bitch - doja cat
last text sent:
❛ ready to poke my eyes out with a box cutter. remind me again why you couldn't come?? ❜
❛ i even offered to give u road head i was desperate ❜
[ URGE ] for the taller muse to tilt the shorter one’s chin up so they can look at their face. ( my adam )
‘TOL AND SMOL’ PROMPTS
↳ [ URGE ] for the taller muse to tilt the shorter one’s chin up so they can look at their face.
Ty was a bit of a risk when it came to alcohol. He had a tendency to be an angry drunk — not all the time, but most of them. It was part of the reason why he (and even his ‘father’) preferred weed to it. There was no way of predicting the outcome it would produce in him. And that night just happened to be an angry night. Ty was quite irritable as it was if he wasn’t surrounded by the right people, and quite a few people he encountered that night had been getting to him. One other thing to note about the blonde was that he was a bit of a scrapper. His parents weren’t sure where he got it from, more than likely a friend of his from the streets, but when he got into a fight he did not like to hold back. Sometimes he’d even go a little overboard, but thankfully the consequences were never too serious. Usually before it got to that point some guy bigger than him was able to pry him off of whoever he was fighting.
And that night, Adam was the lucky guy. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, and it most likely wouldn’t have been the last. He blacked out for a large portion of the altercation, and even some of the aftermath. He barely remembered how the two of them even got home, though he assumed Adam had something to do with it. He only started to come out of the stupor he was sitting down on the edge of the tub in his bathroom. Adam was attempting to clean the blood off of him — most of it his opponents, but with remnants of his own. However, he wasn’t being as cooperative as he could have been, he would admit that. —Well, he was being as cooperative as he could have been in that moment, it just wasn’t cooperative enough. That was why the hand on his chin wasn’t immediately shoved away, that and because it was Adam. He wasn’t going to try to hurt him — not after he saw what he just did to those other two guys.
But as his head was lifted, his gaze forced onto the other’s face, he couldn’t help but notice. Notice what? He wasn’t exactly sure. It was far from the first time he’s seen Adam’s face before, and it wasn’t like much changed. But yet, it was like he was staring at his best friend and a completely different person at the same time. An extremely attractive, caring stranger. This would be the last time he ever drank. “Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re worrying about me.” The words came out with not one thought put into them. The sentence was barely a thought in his head before it slipped past his lips. He was a bit too out of it to realize exactly what he’d just done, but in the morning he would definitely feel it.
↳ [ hug ] — sender wraps receiver in a hug from behind.
Adam stood at the bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist as he had just gotten out of the shower. He was too lost in his reflection to notice anything else going on around him. Two small scars, sitting on each side of his mouth from the contraption placed around his head just over a year ago, threatening to rip his face apart. Puncture marks from needles loitering his skin, both from longtime drug use as well as another trap he had been thrown into without a warning. He was sore, tired, and at the same time he never felt so alive.
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the feeling of a pair of arms wrapping themselves around him. Even with everything that’s happened, even after he became what initially came to claim his life, he was still so… jumpy. Though, he was starting to suspect that came with the lifestyle of keeping a secret. He hated that about himself, especially when the ‘threat’ turned out to be Jasper. He silently apologized by leaning into the embrace, eying his lover from the mirror. “Miss me?” He teased, a smile spreading across his lips that made the scars nearly disappear. “I was just coming to bed. Just got a bit distracted is all.” He admitted before he was once again looking over the various marks he collected across his skin over the years.
He finally pried his eyes away to looked over his shoulders at the other male. “What do you think of all of this?” He asked, referring to the heap of scars, tattoos and constant eye bags that made up his body. It was a silly question, and though it sounded as if he were looking for some compliments; that wasn’t his goal. He was more or less thinking aloud, voicing one of the many thoughts bouncing around in his head to the male behind him.
