send 👫 and I’ll write some headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
becky gives ryker Looks all the time because she wants to tell him off but doesn’t want to tell him off in front of pace, which then leads ryker to giving her Looks back, which then leads to them giving each other progressively more and more aggressive/exaggerated Looks, and by now it’s gotten to the point where they can hold an entire conversation just by giving each other Looks
becky probably tries to feed him every time they meet because she is the Big Sister Friend and even if ryker did actually eat a regular healthy diet instead of, i quote, “zebra cakes and cheap alcohol” she would still have the urge to feed him because a lot of the other men she cares about don’t eat regularly and it’s like a kneejerk reaction now to just go “when was the last time you ate something come on i’m going to get you food”
ryker has probably seen becky with some Suspicious Marks in Certain Places but through the magical combination of common sense and superpowers he can tell that she really doesn’t want to talk about it so he pretends it isn’t there
(she's incredibly grateful to him for pretending)
she and ryker and pace have this one hilltop way on the edge of the city where you can kind of see some stars but mostly it’s just the city but like it’s still really picturesque and serene and sometimes they go out at dusk and just lay there on the grass and talk about aliens and conspiracy theories and stuff while it gets dark
haha ok you didn't specify so I really had to dig into the salt mine. Here goes: purple prose. It doesn't make you a good roleplayer, it makes you seem pompous and at worst, elitist. Don't go digging through a thesaurus to make your words bigger! That makes replying to those roleplays a chore! NO PURPLE PROSE. This also goes for excessive formatting. This obviously doesn't count for embellishment that adds to the general polish and presentation of your reply, because that's showing the same level of respect towards your partner as they show you. But then and again-- sparsely adorned is my style. People who tend to have more flowery and descriptive styles (not 'a couple words' and more like 'two lines' to describe someone's eyes. I admire that kind of tenacity but also... what. How.) This is less salt and more me complaining about styles that I don't find appealing, hah.
Gus deserves this. His week has been fairly productive. He moved in to a new place, met a blind dude who dropped his phone on Gus’ shoulder, and even made a little progress with deciphering some of the visions he’s had recently. Going to a party that one of his now former roommates invited him to sounded like a good idea, and so far, it has -- other than the fact that Gus’ friend ditched him to god knows where.
Then the all too familiar chanting that inevitably happens at every party like this comes, and Gus decides to say fuck it, and see how well the person on the receiving end of the chanting is doing.
The sight he sees is exactly what he thought it would be. Some guy is chugging down a keg of beer, surrounded by more than a few other party goers, all chanting chug, chug, chug. Gus is impressed to see how well this guy is taking down the alcohol, though he wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the night the stranger was taken in to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.
Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
forces Ryker to brush his teeth so he too is subjected to Peppermint Hell.
Ryker has never seen Aaron go completely off-the-rails angry! that is a good thing.
waterwaterwater... it’s constant. if ryker is completely high aaron will still force him to drink some water before making him go to sleep/lecturing him.
the first time Ryker uses tongue Aaron nearly bites it off. he’s surprised. not appalled, but... surprised.
DURI FOUND IT hard not to stare, especially since barag couldn’t shut the hell up about a foul presence . she felt like she’d get stomped on, trampled, if it weren’t for the boy’s lack of muscle ( don’t judge a book by it’s cover little one ) . the hunter stills . ❛ y’know it’s no’ really tha’ nice out ‘ere ‘nd you’ll probably ge’ hurt so ... ❞ // @empaethe
The street race is going and the crowd is cheering, perfectly distracted. No better time to hijack a new ride.
Romulus walks along the line of cars parked on the opposite street, taking his sweet time. Once he picks his new toy, it’s easy. He grabs the door handle, giving it a light wave of vibrations to fuck up the lock and--- viola. It’s open. Romulus sits his ass in the drivers seat and bends down to work the wires and start the engine.
That’s when he hears the footsteps and feels the presence of another person. “Can I help you, bud?” He’s talking and acting like this is totally his car and there’s nothing wrong going on. If he’s good enough an actor the guy will pass him by and get on with his night. And more importantly, he will let Romulus get on with his.
send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed
1. It’s always this. He’s talking to him, and Ryker isobviously a little it out of it, and the second Aaron mentions /rehab/ Rykergrabs him by the hips and pulls him in for a ridiculously deep kiss. Ryker,himself, is subjected to the deepest layer of pepperminty hell in the process.Not one to be dissuaded, he just keeps at it until Aaron’s mumbled lectureswitches into irate, muffled rebukes, and then into a much softer silence. Hiseyes are closed. Aaron does seem like the type to close his eyes while he’sbeing kissed.
“You’re pushing your luck, Gabriel,” he says as soon asRyker pulls back to breathe. Aaron’s face is totally red, but there’s a sparkin his eyes.
“Yeah, but luck pushed me first.” Savage. Wolfish grinintact, he dips his head to place a pathetic and bitey excuse for a kiss onAaron’s lower lip.
Aaron sighs, rolls his head back, seems about ready tolaunch into another lecture. This time about upright behavior in the face ofadversity.
Ryker pulls him back in for another kiss.
2. Ryker has a bloody, split lip and a sizeable gash on hiselbow—for once, Aaron’s actually treating him in tense, worried silence. Ryker’sseemed to get the message that Aaron isn’t ready to lecture him about his badchoices. (Yet.)
“I don’t know if this is because you were stumbling aroundhigh off your ass or because you got into a fight.” Now, that’s not supposed tobe humorous at all, but the tired relief adds that tone Ryker’s heard before—ishe actually joking, or is he exhausted out of his mind? Both? Evidently both,because when Ryker rolls his eyes and grabs him by the back of his neck to draghim down into a truly awful kiss Aaron doesn’t fight it past a mumbled I hateyou.
Tired enough to lick Ryker’s blood off his lips instead ofcleaning it off with a tissue, and that’s when Ryker thinks oh, shit.
3. It’s the strangest sort of routine. He’ll show upcompletely blitzed, sometimes halfway dead, usually pretty high and eyesred-rimmed from lack of sleep. And drugs. Always with the drugs.
Aaron kisses him, sometimes. It’s never big.
Just pushing him down onto the cot, running his hands underthe tap to clean them and filling a cup of water for Ryker for when he’s sober-nothigh-got his head on straight, shutting off the lights so his hangover won’tsting like a hive of pissed-off bees, leans over him—checks to see if he’sasleep yet.
Leans down and kisses his forehead, and when Ryker isn’tunconscious he can swear that there’s a smile there.
4. When Ryker started adding hands to these awkward littlearrangements, Aaron can’t remember. He can’t really reciprocate, either, notknowing how—friendly? Welcome?—his wandering hands would be, and that leavesthem to flounder uselessly in the air behind Ryker’s back. To Ryker’s credit heis trying to be gentlemanly. All for the better-- if he’d tried to go lowerthan Aaron’s hips he would probably lose his tongue. As is, it’s still prettysatisfying when Ryker presses his thumbs into Aaron’s bony hips and pushes himup against the file cabinets, sacrifices the mobility of one hand to hold one ofAaron’s.
“You’re lucky there aren’t any security cameras in here.”
“Oh, there aren’t? Does that mean I can--?”
“No, Ryker!”
5. Two Styrofoam cups of ramen, one cot, and it’s theclosest they’ve ever gotten to a dinner date. The flickering of the shitty fluorescentlights is a poor imitation of a candle, and Aaron’s the type of person to onlyuse half a flavor packet-- If you want to die from sodium overdose, fine byme as he passed the remnants to Ryker, who just grinned and dumped it wholeheartedlyin: You’ll give me mouth-to-mouth, right?-- so there’s no conceivable wayto even pretend that it’s high-class.
This time, Ryker’s the one to initiate—as usual, really, butnow it’s not to shut Aaron up.
It’s just because he wants to, which is equally as strangeas it is flattering. Since he isn’t being rudely interrupted Aaron feels noqualms with reciprocating, looping an arm around Ryker’s back to pull himcloser and into a better position. He has to tilt his head up—Ryker has tocrane his neck. They both have to lean at an awkward angle sure to cause some achesif they keep it up. Aaron sets his ramen down on the outside of them to scootcloser.
( Ryker encourages him up onto his lap, and Aaron compromisesby swinging a leg over and pulling Ryker down to meet him. )
al slams back his drink, a wild sort of grin on his face. it’s been way too long, he thinks as bass thumps through his very bones. he takes a deep breath, smelling smoke and cologne and alcohol and he sighs happily. he can feel the very edges of a buzz tingling in the tips of his fingers and he turns to the man beside him, grin spreading wider.
the music is loud enough that al can barely hear himself think and he slides closer, going up on his toes to murmur in ryker’s ear. “dance with me.”
and then he pulls away, grabbing ryker’s wrist as he goes and tugging.
