#iarctonystark

[vermidianisms]

"It's a date then!"

Alexander sighed and hefted his books in his arm, shutting his door behind him on his roommate. “Alone time,” he said. There was no way it was going to be alone time for long. He knew him too well. He’d have one of the girls he’d been flirting with in there in less than ten minutes. His homework in his arms, Alexander walked down to the common room around the corner. Hopefully, no one would be in there. He peeked in the small window next to the door. It was miraculously empty. He turned the handle and slipped through the door.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned around to see a woman in her PJs and a towel looking up at him from over a textbook. It must have been a noticeable jump because the woman began to smirk a little. Alexander hefted the heavy books a little, settling himself. He smoothed his hair back with one hand. 

“I am so sorry,” Alexander began. “I looked in and didn’t see anyone. I must have just…” He waved a hand at the window. 

“It’s fine,” she said, smiling a little. She glanced at the books in his hands. “Besides, it appears we have a common goal.” She lifted her textbook slightly, revealing it to be a biology textbook. She shrugged a little. “You can join me, if you like.” 

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Alexander said, immediately moving to the table she wasn’t using and setting down his books with a pronounced thump. “I – I was going to do this in my room but my roommate requested some alone time so I let him have it. Although I get the feeling he won’t be alone long.” 

“Well then, we’re not so different. I, too, have been displaced from my room. However, for me it was of my own choosing.” The woman put a bookmark in the book and set it down. “My room mate was asleep when I came in after dinner. I just decided to do the decent thing and study elsewhere. I’ve got an astronomy test next week.” 

It occurred to Alexander, looking at her now, that he knew exactly who she was. Well, perhaps not exactly. At first Alexander hadn’t been able to place the face with her hair up in a towel but it was definitely her. There was this girl he sometimes saw at lunch who he thought was absolutely stunning. Completely out of his league, of course. He’d seen Casper flirting with her once or twice but, so far, he hadn’t had much success with her. Mostly because that required actually, well, speaking to her. Alexander swallowed thickly. 

“Well, that’s – that’s very kind of you,” Alexander told the lady. “My name is Alexander, by the way.” 

“Kate,” she replied, smiling a little. “Nice to meet you.” 

He nodded and smiled before pulling out his history text that he needed to take notes on for an essay. They worked in silence for a while, Alexander occasionally glancing up to make sure he wasn’t disturbing Kate. She, however, was very intent upon reading her textbook. 

As Alexander began to read in earnest, he looked up less. After a chapter or two, an odd noise caught his attention and made him look up. He felt, in that moment, incredibly fortunate that she wasn’t paying attention. She had taken the towel off her head, letting her hair hang down, and she was running a brush through her wavy mane of soft brown hair. Usually when Alexander saw her around campus, she’d done something with her hair. Now it was down and loose. It looked styled but it was natural. Kate paused in her hair brushing and set the brush aside, tossing it all over one shoulder. Alexander watched her quietly for a moment, noting just how beautiful she was, and then went back to reading. 

Or, at least, he tried to. 

He couldn’t concentrate. He wanted to talk to her, but he had no idea what to say. He also didn’t want to disrupt her studying. Unfortunately he was getting no where with this essay. He tried to get back into it, but he just couldn’t seem to manage. 

“Are you free on Saturday?” 

Alexander looked up at Kate, surprised at her speaking. 

“Am… I? Yes. Yes, I think I am,” Alexander replied. “… Why?” 

“Well, there’s this little café in town I’ve been meaning to try out.” Kate lifted her eyebrow curiously. “If you’re interested.” 

Alexander’s mind blanked. “Wait, are you asking me out on a date?” 

She nodded. “Is that a no?” 

“No. No, it’s not a no. I mean, it’s a yes. I mean…” Alexander paused, sighing and blushing. He was acting ridiculous. “I’m not making any sense am I?” 

Kate laughed and shook her head. 

“I am free on Saturday and I would like to go,” Alexander said, this time much more clearly and deliberately. 

“Great!” Kate laughed, “I’ll meet you around eleven, oooh inside Starbucks perhaps?” 

“That-that sounds just fine to me,” Alexander agreed, a little eagerly. “I’ll… I’d be happy to drive.” 

“It’s a date then!” She announced. “I’ll see you then.” 

And with that, she collected her things and left, leaving a star struck Alexander behind her, red as a tomato and wondering what exactly he’d done to attract her attention. He was so dumbfounded that he decided to go back to his room and was promptly evicted again when he walked in on Cass and some lady friend of his that Alexander didn’t recognize. But who cared? He had a date!

[vermidian]

once you get this you have to say 5 things you like about yourself, publicly, then send it to 10 of your favorite followers! positivity is cool. (tagged by peggycarterslipstick)

I'm very good at empathizing with others. I've never had a problem putting myself in someone else's shoes, which is very handy for roleplaying.

I HAVE COOL HAIR. IT IS TWO COLORS. IT IS SO NEAT. AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO DYE IT.

I'm really good at stacking books on bookshelves so that everything fits.

I'm trustworthy. If someone asks me to keep a secret, I keep it. If I lose something of someone else's I replace it. I don't tend to lie and if I make a friend, it takes a lot for them to lose my loyalty.

I am a good gift giver. I can usually find something really good for people when I buy gifts for them. 

[vermidianisms]

It was perfect.

Rowan was asleep in the other room, dead to the world. The cats were up and actually being kind of peaceful. Her 90’s era metallic blue CD player that she’d gotten for two whole dollars at a garage sale was plugged in on the kitchen counter with AC/DC’s Back in Black album already in it, ready to go. She was totally going to do this. 

She was gonna make some damn pancakes. 

Making pancakes to Hell’s Bells, she instantly decided, was the best idea she had ever come up with. Usually she didn’t rock out while Rowan was home. She’d barely done it at her old place, as cruddy as it was. Silme was just really self-conscious of her voice and what meager dancing skills she had. Rowan kept trying to convince her she wasn’t actually that bad, but she was pretty sure she was always the most awkward dancer in the whole building whenever she tried.

But this morning, she felt like dancing. With no one around to judge her but their pets, she hardly had anyone to impress. Calmness and caution thrown to the wind and eggs thrown in with the dry ingredients, Silme fired up the hand mixer and, by the end of Shoot to Thrill, it was ready to go. She pulled out the griddle she had – it was well used but it worked all the same. It wasn’t like she couldn’t replace it with the newest gadget on the market. They had the money. She just didn’t see the need for it when this one worked fine.

She started lip-syncing with a cat on the counter – the one she’d named Hendrix – and he just sort of stared at her in subtle annoyance, wondering when she’d crack open the wet cat food for him and the other eight cats that shared their apartment. They also had a fluffy mutt that turned up at about track four which was right on time for Silme to make the song title of “Givin’ the Dog a Bone” mean something a little less sexual. 

About midway through track four, Silme still lip syncing and bobbing her head along, the griddle was ready to use for pancakes. She did the first one a little too large accidentally but shrugged. Rowan would eat it. 

Bopping along and flipping pancakes, Silme hadn’t a care in the world. She was happy. The music was good, the meds were working, she was sleeping pretty well lately without waking up in a cold sweat because of a nightmare, and she had an amazing boyfriend who put up with her habit of collecting strays. She really loved him. She’d had an unbearable crush for a while and then it became unbearable awkwardness and now it was just… perfect.

As she was singing along to the end of Shake A Leg and flipping pancakes without a care in the world, two hands caught her around the middle and spun her, sending a mostly cooked pancake to the floor and making Silme shriek in surprise. Fenrir, the dog, went shooting after it like it was a Frisbee. Silme, thoroughly embarrassed and having been surprised, slumped in Rowan’s arms. She was vaguely aware of him laughing.

She came to a minute or two later, sometime during Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution and found herself on the sofa in the other room. Blinking hard, she sat up and craned her neck to see Rowan at the griddle. Shirtless with well used grey sweat pants hanging low on his hips. She lifted her eyebrows a fraction of an inch and stared. She had no idea how she’d wound up dating fucking Hercules but she was not about to question it. Not in a million years.

Finding her footing, she stood up and walked over to the counter again, swatting Rowan’s rear end in retaliation for surprising her.

Rowan grinned his stupid grin with his perfect teeth and looked down at her. “Look! I made us pancakes! Aren’t I thoughtful?” He tilted his head innocently.

Silme gave him a withering look, but there was no heat behind it. She was so in love with him. “Don’t get cheeky. I was being nice and making us breakfast and you spooked me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You were just too cute, singing and dancing all by yourself in the kitchen, not a care in the world.” Silme could feel her face burning. Rowan looked down at her, still grinning, but his eyes were softer. He leaned down and kissed her on the temple, Silme smiling a little and snorting at the sweet gesture. “Yeah, so actually, the dog ate that pancake you flung across the room.”

“Your fault and your dog.” Silme pointed out, fetching the cheap butter-flavored syrup from one of the cabinets. “If he gets sick, you’re taking him to the vet.” She sounded stern but if something did happen to the dog, she’d be going with him in a heartbeat. Silme turned the CD player off.

“Hey, no, wait, put it back on! I was enjoying that,” Rowan protested, looking back and pointing at the CD player. Silme switched it back on, slightly surprised.

“Which song?” 

“Uhhh, how about Shoot to Thrill? Is that on this album?” Silme nodded and moved it forward a track. Rowan started bobbing to the music and went back to the pancakes. Silme snorted and watched him, leaning forward on the counter and smiling happily. He was such an adorable idiot.

Rowan, unlike her, sang at the top of his lungs. He actually wasn’t a bad singer, really, when he tried. Which he was not currently doing. He was probably singing slightly off key just to mess with her. When the pancakes were all done and on a serving plate, Rowan whipped around and snagged her hands, dancing with her. She did her best not to laugh but that was absolutely impossible with his stupid face and his happy ridiculous dancing. She wound up knocked out again and, this time, she woke up with her head on his thigh, both of them in the pillow pit. There was a plate of pancakes balanced precariously in front of her. When she smiled, he looked down at her and grinned, his mouth full, and looked back to the TV. He’d started some movie but Silme hardly cared. She was too busy looking at her stupid boyfriend to care. 

And the pancakes tasted delicious.

So did Rowan’s mouth after breakfast, when they decided they’d both had enough of the pancakes. Butter flavored really wasn’t so bad. They both laughed when Let Me Put My Love Into You came on behind them in the kitchen but neither of them bothered to get up to turn it off. They were a little preoccupied at that particular moment. Making out took precedence. And when the album wrapped, they were a lot more preoccupied with each other than that. 

“You should make pancakes every morning,” Rowan declared afterward. Silme laughed, rolling her eyes and snuggled into him.

“You’re a moron,” she replied, laughter still in her tone.

"And I'm hot?"

"And you're a moron," Silme shot back immediately. Rowan pouted playfully and Silme laughed before kissing him again, catching the lower lip that was jutting out between her own softly. Rowan returned the kiss eagerly. "Yes, you're hot," SIlme eventually conceded.

Rowan just chuckled and started the movie over again. And this time they actually bothered to watch it.

[vermidianisms]

After the fight was over, everything changed.

  Fergus Cousland, Carmen’s brother, returned to Highever to rebuild. She’d asked for Howe to face what he’d done. If Silme had any thoughts as to how, she’d have put him in a high security labor camp for the rest of his days. She wasn’t sure what Alastair would do when they got him but it wasn’t up to her anyway. She and Alastair got along really well, as a matter of fact, but he was king now and he had to make decisions for himself. He had made the decision to give Howe’s lands, the Amaranthine, to the Grey Wardens to rebuild.

  Leliana had gone back to Orlais to fine Marjolaine. Whether that was wise or not, Silme couldn’t tell. She just wished her luck.

  Oghren had decided to stick around. She still spotted him sometimes in taverns around the city. He had a bit of a reputation. Mostly, he helped with Denerim security. She was more than a little certain Carmen had given him some role.

  Sten went home to his people. Silme wasn’t so mad about that. She had never really liked Sten all that much. Something about his inability to question the world as he understood it bothered her.

  Wynne had decided to travel, to see the world. Silme didn’t blame her. She did miss her though. She had somewhat hoped that Wynne and Alexander would hit it off, but they were too similar. There were no sparks there.

  Zevran, surprisingly, stayed. Carmen and he had gotten to be friends. There was a time once when Silme thought they had been sleeping together but later had learned they hadn’t. Honestly, it surprised her. But then again, once Alastair had given in, they’d been regularly active when it came to time spent in their beds at camp.

  Morrigan was just gone. She’d always been a bitch to her for no reason that Silme could ever figure out, but she’d always respected Morrigan. She was almost sad that she was gone, but the city wasn’t somewhere she could see Morrigan as being happy.

  Alastair was king. He didn’t like it much, but he ruled justly and with a commoner’s touch as they called it. He didn’t like being noble so he didn’t act like he was. Silme though it was admirable. He would make a wonderful king.

  Carmen changed too. She wouldn’t talk about it, but Silme found her in tears once or twice following the battle. Silme knew why and just comforted her. She was pretty sure Alastair knew too, but Carmen didn’t tell her if she had. She just cried in secret and then dried it up and pretended she was okay. After about a week, Silme stopped finding her like that. But there was a statue erected in his honor in one of the squares. Alastair commented once that he thought it was an appropriate gesture and kissed Carmen gently. They all knew she had loved him. The world had just had bad timing for the two of them. Alastair, fortunately, had just the right timing. And he truly was good for Carmen. No one could deny it.

  Carmen planted forget-me-nots around the base of the statue. Looking at them made Silme want to cry, even though she had barely known the man.

  And that left Silme. She stayed in Denerim with Carmen and Alastair. Alexander was practically a father to her so she had somewhere to go. She took to rehoming the stray animals in Denerim, winding up with nine cats in the process. Alexander didn’t seem to mind, considering she lived in a smaller place to herself on the cheaper side of town, near the alienage. The elves had always been kind to her, though she had never been one of their own.

  One night she was walking home and found a man sitting with his back against the leg of Hutch’s memorial statue, drinking. She could smell the booze from a block away. He was so drunk he was barely conscious. She got him down from the statue and she was going to take him somewhere to dry out when she realized who he was. Hutch’s blond friend. The one that had been so startled by her being a woman and she’d hit him. He looked like he’d been in one too many bar fights.

  She took him home and let him dry out there. It turned out he was allergic to cats, but she found that out a little too late to spare him the sneezing and the puffy eyes. He got mad at her and stormed out without so much as a thank you.

  It was a week before she saw him again, this time nursing what looked to be like one of many rounds of ale. She watched him curiously, buying Oghren a round because why not, and then followed him out. He went back to the statue. Silme took him home again. This time, she kept the cats away from him. When she woke up, he was gone but there was a basket of muffins on the table she hadn’t bought.

  The next week, she caught him earlier in his drinking and sat down next to him at the bar. He gave her a look, not really sure what she wanted from him. They hardly done anything but argue so far. She passed him a mug of ale and didn’t say anything. They sat and drank quietly, but Rowan made no move to uproot himself, and drank the ale she’d bought him.

  After about half an hour, Rowan glanced over to her and sighed.

  “Did you like the muffins?” he asked. Silme glanced to him and nodded.

  “Yeah, they were nice. I liked them,” Silme answered. They fell quiet again but Rowan looked at her.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “This whole bringing me home with you every Wednesday. You don’t even know me. In fact, the first time we met you punched me in the nose.”

  “The first time we met, you insulted me and I replied in the way I know best,” Silme pointed out. Rowan’s eyebrows wrinkled in annoyance.

  “That’s not really an answer,” he pointed out. Silme just shrugged and took a drink.

  For the first time since Hutch’s death, Rowan actually went back to the barracks on his night off and slept off the alcohol in his system. He had to admit it was weird not waking up in the grumpy cat-lady’s house. She was a peculiar sort of person. Hutch would probably have liked her a lot.

  The next Wednesday, he expected to see her at the tavern. She never showed. He wondered what had happened. He’d gotten used to seeing her. He drank himself dizzy and then stumbled home.

  The next day, he was on duty when he saw his shorthaired friend in town, sitting on the ground against a wall in the alley near the alienage. It wasn’t until he got closer that he saw the bruises and the swelling. Rowan carried her home. She said she was fine but she didn’t look like she was. He told Alexander and Alexander saw to her. Rowan wasn’t sure if she counted as a friend, but he was coming to see her as one.

  After that, they met up every Wednesday. Rowan toned down the drinking and Silme seemed to loosen up a little around him. One night he asked, finally, a question he had been meaning to ask.

  “Why did you pick me up that first night?” He asked. “You didn’t know me. You didn’t know what I would do. Why take the risk for a stranger?” Silme stared at him for a moment and set down her mug.

  “I watched Carmen grieve for him. She has Alastair and she loves him, but a part of her loved Hutch too.” Silme shrugged. “Love is complicated. But I know he loved her and I know he loved you – platonic or romantic, it’s still love of some kind. And I know he wouldn’t have wanted you to sleep in the streets with your back to a bronze cast of himself. I didn’t know him well, but I know that he would have wanted you to be safe and happy.” Silme let the words hang in the air for a moment, before deciding to spoil the moment. She wasn’t good at sappy things. “By the way, my friend Zevran asked me to see if you were interested in the more physical kind of love sometimes and promises he’s very good.” She had a laugh at Rowan’s reaction and passed out at the table. When she woke up, he was carrying her home. She let him.

  Two months later, Rowan asked her if she would be interested in going on a date to somewhere other than the tavern. She about choked on her beer, thinking he was kidding. When she realized he wasn’t, she said yes. They went out for breakfast muffins together. It was awkward and Silme really didn’t know how to be romantic. But she said yes to the next date. And the next. And the next. Rowan slowly but surely got her used to the idea of physical affection. She still felt awkward sometimes – no one was interested in her, not ever. But here was this stupid blonde man she’d picked up drunk off the streets and now she was sleeping curled up beside him and she couldn’t be happier.

  Zevran was a little jealous. Carmen was happy for both of them. Alastair made a couple of wise cracks about her relationship. Rowan seemed to take all of it well.

  They lost track of when they had started dating – they just knew it was a Wednesday that he had asked her. But one night after their traditional Wednesday drinking with Oghren and whoever else tagged along, Rowan walked her out to the statue of Hutch and looked up at it as if debating with the world. They were quiet as he looked up at the statue.

  And then he got down on his knee right there, in the middle of the night and proposed.

  Silme said yes.

[vermidianisms]

Silme never got tired of watching Rowan change.

She liked it a lot when he didn’t realize she was watching him change, memorizing how the muscles in his back flexed as he pulled off another ripped up shirt after a fight or how he’d sort of stand on his tip toes when he slipped into or out of his pants.

It was even more fun when he actually did notice. Sometimes he’d pretend he hadn’t noticed and she’d be too distracted to care because he’d change slower, change out of his clothes slower, flex, stretch – it was a problem how much of a distraction his muscles were for her. Seriously, how was that ever supposed to be fair? His muscles were worthy of a Greek god.

Maybe this was the world compensating for the shitty childhood. Whatever it was she had done to deserve this, there was nothing on God’s earth that could make her complain about it.

It was morning and the sun was peeping through the window. They’d finished with breakfast and it was their day off so they were taking it slow. It was nice. The week had been pretty good, all things considered. Rowan was breaking in the new knights. He seemed to like it. He’d been a bit busier since he took on the role as General though. It meant more events she had to attend too. Still, Rowan liked it. Silme was just happy running the shelter and helping Carmen at her shop in her spare hours. It was nice to spend time with Carmen like the good old days, though they rarely went a day without seeing each other even though she wasn’t her apprentice anymore.

She looked up from her sketchbook and saw Rowan rifling through his folded clothes. Immediately, her interests were peaked. She sat very still and stayed very quiet, watching him. 

Eventually, he decided on a shirt she’d actually made for him. It was a tan color, not very fancy. He set it aside and slowly pulled his shirt over his head. His back muscles revealed themselves as though they were a work of art. Silme was pretty sure she could enter him in an art competition if she needed to. But she was a little selfish when it came to sharing the muscles, so that wasn’t happening. The ring on her finger and the ring on his definitively meant taken.

Rowan, bless him, began rifling through the drawers again. Pants this time. Silme bit her lower lip and watched quietly from the pillows. Eventually, he chose a pair and set them on top of the selected shirt. His sleep pants fell to the floor as he stood on his toes to step out of them, showing off every muscle in his legs. So many muscles. Aside from the underwear interrupting, it was a glorious assembly of muscle on muscle.

And then, without preamble, the underwear went too. Silme just stared, mesmerized. She had no idea what it was. It was just that every time he took his clothes off, her eyes just got lost. It really wasn’t fair.

When Rowan turned around, he said something. Unfortunately, she was too surprised to reply coherently and her response was, “Huh?” She had to drag her eyes away from his body. Immediately, Rowan’s originally peacefully confused expression turned wolfish and predatory as he stood there in all his naked glory.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. She lifted one right back.

“Nope,” she lied. Rowan snorted and moved closer, the very idea of clothes abandoned. God, he was gorgeous…

“So you aren’t watching me change?” Rowan asked, grin slowly widening and showing off those perfect teeth.

“Nah, why would I do that?” she replied, but her voice cracked a little. She was totally lying and it took everything she had not to smile.

“And you wouldn’t want to try a little hands on?” Rowan asked, moving closer. Silme couldn’t help but look down again, dragging her eyes down his muscles and over the body she’d come to very much appreciate. Silme didn’t reply because she couldn’t seem to find the words. “Normally, I don’t allow it – but for you I think I’ll make an exception.” He was practically purring his words now. Silme bit her lip. This man – her husband – was going to be the end of her.

Silme stood up and walked away, suppressing the grin in her heart.

“I don’t need your charity,” she said, airily, setting her newest sketchbook on the table. Rowan caught up to her easily, strong hands alighting gently on her hips. His lips rested just behind her ear. She wanted to melt but, honestly, she kind of liked playing hard to get with him. And Rowan knew when she wasn’t in the mood. He could tell when she was kidding around and when she was serious. Serious would be a flat out no for an answer.

“Maybe you and I could make a little exchange,” Rowan proposed, kissing the hair behind her ear as he hugged her around the middle, pulling her closer. She breathed in hard.

“What did you have in mind?” Silme asked, mind whirling. The hard to get thing was starting to fail.

“Well, I can’t help but notice you’re wearing an awful lot of clothes. I’d be happy to help you slip out of them,” Rowan offered, his hands riding up her sides and lifting the edges of her shirt. She gasped slightly and pushed his hands back down.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Silme said, turning around and lifting her eyebrow again. “I can do that all on my own.”

Rowan leaned in, grinning. He leaned in until his lips were almost on hers, their noses brushing. His eyes were a dazzling blue.

“I’ll take them off with my teeth~,” he purred. Silme couldn’t do this anymore.

“Deal,” she said definitively before she pressed her lips to his. He chuckled into the kiss. He gently navigated them back to the pit of pillows they called their bed carefully and laid her back against them. Silme’s hands now wandered his muscles with no reservations whatsoever.

The shirt went first. With his teeth, as promised. His kisses trailed their way back down her body, from her neck to below her belly button. The pants took a little more maneuvering – he had to use his hands a bit with that one but she let him get away with it because at this point, she was going a little bit crazy Rowan, damn him, took his time getting to her underwear. He kissed up both legs, nipping and humming occasionally because he knew exactly what it did to her.

He pulled the underwear off with his teeth too. That he seemed to have very little problem with at all.

They made out while their hands wandered each other’s bodies, teasing touches and strokes that had both of them gasping and moaning. Rowan turned her over eventually, kissing up her back and saying things she was pretty sure would make Carmen blush.

The sex. 

Was amazing.

Silme lost track of how many times she felt like a rollercoaster did loops inside her and Rowan had the stamina of whatever god had fathered him – not to mention, the skill. When they were finished, they laid beside each other lazily. Silme smiled gently, blinking slowly at him. His hand rubbed the skin on her back. 

“So why were you getting changed anyway?” Silme eventually asked. “It’s our day off. We don’t have to be anywhere.” Rowan grinned.

“What made you think I had any intention of actually putting those on?”

“You staged changing clothes for sex?”

“I absolutely did,” Rowan chuckled. Silme rolled her eyes and laughed.

“You idiot, you could have just asked. I would have said yes.”

 “What, and miss out on you marveling at my body?” Rowan snorted, winking. “Not a chance in hell. My ego needs all the stroking it can get.”

Silme laughed again and rolled her eyes. She kissed him and sighed.

They didn’t actually get dressed again until hours later when Hutch showed up, wondering if Rowan was free. It led to a mad scramble to get dressed before Hutch started peering through windows and a lot of laughing. 

But one thing was absolutely for sure: Silme would never get tired of watching Rowan change.

[vermidian]

I FORGOT BILLY DO BILLY

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: idk nobody really

platonic otp: Billy/Silme

general opinions: I really like him! He's more a character that comes in every once in a blue moon but I really think it would be fun to have him find his way back into a normal life gradually.

[vermidian]

HUTCH ROWAN CARMEN SILME KATE ALEXANDER REYNOLDS OLIVER SABINE AND UM PHOENIX

JESUS CHRIST JENNIFER

HUTCH

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Carmen

platonic otp: Rowan/Hutch

general opinions: A LITTLE UPPITY ABOUT HOW THINGS SHOULD BE BUT HE’S A LOT OF FUN AND I LOVE HIM TO BITS

ROWAN

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Silme

platonic otp: Hutch/Rowan

general opinions: HE’S SO FRIGGIN’ STUBBORN BUT IT’S REALLY FUN TO WRITE SILME BEATING HIM AND WATCHING HIM STOMP AROUND LIKE A BULL

CARMEN

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Hutch

platonic otp: Carmen/Sabine

general opinions: I LOVE HER TO DEATH OKAY - NO ONE CAN TAKE HER FROM ME EXCEPT HUTCH AND HE’S ONLY FICTIONAL AND HER SOULMATE

SILME

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Rowan

platonic otp: Silme/Alexander

general opinions: SHE IS SO COOL TO WRITE BUT I WISH I KNEW MORE ABOUT NARCOLEPSY BECAUSE I OFTEN FEEL I’M NOT DOING IT JUSTICE

KATE

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Alexander

platonic otp: Kate/Fleur I guess?

general opinions: I NEED MORE OF HER TO FORM AN OPINION BUT I LIKE HER OUTGOING NATURE

ALEXANDER

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: KATE

platonic otp: Alexander/Silme

general opinions: HE IS MY SHIEST BABY EVER AND I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT TIME HE HAS TO PARTICIPATE IN AN AWKWARD DISCUSSION

REYNOLDS

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Rowan’s fist

platonic otp: Reynolds/Manure

general opinions: WHAT A JERK

OLIVER

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Lisa

platonic otp: Oliver/Silme

general opinions: HE’S REALLY SWEET OKAY? HE DESERVES BETTER THAN FLEUR

SABINE

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: Vance

platonic otp: Sabine/Carmen

general opinions: I LOVE HER FOR ALL HER MEDDLING AND HER FRIENDSHIP WITH CARMEN AND JUST SJDFHDJGDKJFH

PHOENIX

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: idk Ghost maybe?

platonic otp: Pheonix/Rowan or Phoenix/Rowan’s Dog

general opinions: HE WILL NEVER STOP BEING ROWAN’S CAT AND HE WILL LOVE THAT MAN UNTIL HE DIES

[bethanyactually]

Your icon makes me laugh every time I see it. I love it.

Hey, thanks! I'm glad it makes you laugh. :-D It made me laugh every time I saw it for months. I've gotten more or less used to MacGyver's goofy Dexter face now, but I'm still reluctant to change it.