The Playing House Domestic Shipping Meme.

RULES!
❧ Leave a comment with your character's name, fandom, and any preferences you have.
❧ When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 15. The number corresponds to the scenario that you will play out in whatever way you want to.
❧ Go from there!

THE LIST!
01] baby
Suddenly, there's a new addition to your family! Are you expecting? Adopting? Struggling to find the perfect name for your child? Or maybe you're up at a ridiculous hour in the morning because they're crying like crazy.

02] just married
Congratulations! You and your loved (?) one are about to start a whole new life together! It's time for the honeymoon...

03] house hunting
Are you seeking out an apartment? A dream house? Or just any old place, as long as you're with your other? Make sure to weigh your options very carefully...

04] household chores
It's time to clean/cook/garden/take care of something! Do you work together, or does one of you hide until everything is done?

05] shopping
Whether it's for furniture, groceries, or something in between, shopping is something that everybody must do at some point in time! What varies is if they like it or not.

06] family vacation
WE'RE OFF TO DIDNEY WOOOOOOOOORL or wherever
... well, as long as the kids are happy, right...? You may not be happy (or maybe you are), but it's mainly about ~family bonding~.

07] romantic retreat
It's you and your loved one's anniversary, and you decide it's time to take some time off and take them somewhere nice, where you only have each other.

08] comfort
Is somebody sick in bed? Or perhaps they just had a bad day? Sometimes, a good breakfast in bed or a home-cooked meal can really lift the spirits! Or perhaps you want to try medicine, or laughter, or something else?

09] pet
Suddenly, you have another addition to the family! Is it a puppy? A kitty? A fierce dragon? Whatever it is, make sure to give it a name and to take good care of it!

10] holiday
Happy birthday/New Years/Christmas/Valentine's Day/whatever! It's a very special day that only comes once a year, so make it count!

11] argument
Oh, no, who left the stove on... Or maybe it's about why they were out late last night? Either way, there is a lot of tension today, and one of you may or may not be sleeping on the couch tonight.

12] making up
It's time to make amends for that fight/divorce/whatever you had before! After all, you love each other... right?

13] surprise, surprise
You are feeling rather loving tonight, so you want to remind the other person how much you cherish and appreciate them... if it's by something cute and adorable or hot and sexy is completely up to you.

14] proposal
~~SHUT UP THIS TOTALLY FITS~~ You've been with your other for what feels like forever, and finally you want to tie the knot with them. Will you go down on one knee before them, or get a little creative?

15] other
I know I'm forgetting like a bajillion and one different things here, so this is the option for that!

Together/Committed
In the Beginning: You've moved in together and are learning the boundaries, both sexual and non, of living with a partner.
Not Mom's House Anymore: You're young and starting out; it's crazy to live by yourself instead of with your family! Luckily, your lover can give you things mother never gave you.
Sweep It Under the Rug: Chores can be boring, but you can make them fun, right? After all, you look so good bent over the table while you're dusting.
Naked Apron: Nothing's better than breakfast in bed. Except when you're served it with your baby wearing nothing but the apron they used to make all that bounty.
Letting It All Hang Out: Benefit of being in your own house? Running around naked. This doesn't have to change when you're living with someone.
There's Someone Else...for Both of Us: Three's a crowd, except when two agreed on it.
Spicing Things Up: Sometimes, constantly seeing someone can rub you the wrong way, and intimacy can get rote and boring. That's why slipping a new kink in every now and again isn't a bad idea, especially if it's something that one of you has really wanted to try.
I'll Take Care of You: Everyone deserves to be pampered, and you're letting your partner soak up the best of your home and the best of you.
Proving Your Love: You want to show your lover that you care for them like no one else. After all, you're living with them, not anyone else!
Becoming Comfortable With You: After a while, they've become like another part of you, one you can show or tell anything to, even about how hard you want them to thrust into you or how you want them to suck your -
Suspicious Minds: Jealousy brought from the outside is making one of you antsy. Can a serious fucking session prove that there's no roaming minds here?
Christening the New Place: You've moved into a new home. Unpacked everything? Good! Now it's time to have sex on every surface so it's all totally yours.
Welcome Home: One half of the household has been away - on a trip, at war, at an anime convention, whatever. Now, it's up to the other half to make their welcome wagon the best there ever was.
Cultural Differences: Different cultures have different ideas about home, about coupling, and about the stuff that goes on between the sheets. Can you work it out?
Home-Cooked Meal: Believe it or not, there are even better uses for apple pie than eating it.
I'm Not Used to This: This is your first time in a "committed" relationship, having a home, or both. How are you adjusting? Is it still hard to be touched, be loved, or use a proper bed?
Here Out of Convenience: It's not like you really like them or anything! This is only a roof over your head and a warm hole to fuck.
You're Just Being Used: You're getting a benefit from your relationship that isn't purely sexual, like wealth, power, or control. But in order to keep things in line, you have to keep your partner happy and sexually fufilled.
Keeping You Here: You can't let them slip away, so you'll use your body to keep them ensnared.
Territorial: Your house, your things - they belong to you, and that can give you a rush. Maybe you want to show your lover that they're yours, too.
I Have to Stay: You don't want to be caught up in this, but you're making yourself stay and keeping yourself in bed with the "enemy."
Now I Only Want You Gone: You want this person out of your life, and there are few stronger ways to send this message than make a cuckold of them. Preferably when they know it.
Tell Me More: You want to know if this whole "playing house" thing is all it's cut out to be.
Proving them All Wrong: They said you'd never, ever find someone. Now, you're showing them just what kind of catch you've got yourself by not taking your hands off what you've earned.
Forced Together: Be it expectations or arranged marriage, you two are stuck together. Of course, such contracts involve a certain amount of physical action, like producing heirs.
Keeping Up Appearances: You want to look successful in life, and part of that involves being in a sexual relationship. Or perhaps you want to hide something about yourself.
Argument: Ugh, they put their feet on the table! They broke your favorite vase! They're so...so...hot when they're mad!
Making Up: You feel sorry for what you've said or done and will do anything to prove that. You just want to shower them with your affection (or not), or show them how much they're wanted.
Like Melted Butter: You want something, and the best way to get it is to butter them up and get under their skin - in a good way.
Starting a Family: Both of you are taking the next step and bringing a new life into this world, and there's one old fashioned way to do it.
Absolutely Glowing: So, one of you is pregnant. How has your sex life been affected by changing bodies and mood swings?
Kids Will Be Kids: Now you guys have rugrats to take care of, but don't forget to make time for the two of you. Alone adult time is important.
At-home Date: Break out the wine and the frozen pizza, it's time for a date at the house! Who says you need to go to a fancy dinner to get in the mood?
Lazy Day: Today we're not doing anything, we're just gonna stay in our bed. And all that entails.
Newlyweds: You two are more than committed. You've said your vows, for better or for worse. Hopefully, things will stay better, especially when you take things to the privacy of your room.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith: The relationship is forbidden for some reason, and to have it, you all had to run away and start a new life. Maybe you even have assumed identities! Is it painful that you can only be your true selves in the bedroom?
Tie Me to the Bed Post: The great thing about a well-furnished place is all the cool things you can find lying around that can be repurposed for other tasks. Like tying someone's arms or teasing someone's genitals.
Out of My Closet: Speaking of things lying around, how about a sexy show with those underused items in your wardrobe?
At Another Person's Home: Who cares that you're guests at somebody's house and they can hear you through the walls? Go for it!
With Another Person at Home: Who cares that you have a guest at your house and they can hear you through the walls? Go for it!
Way Down in Kokomo: You're on vacation. Sun, sand, surf, and 24/7 sex.
Finally Tamed: No one, including you, thought you'd ever be domestic. But this person and their sexual attention have brought you to your knees.

Other
The Help: A home can run more smoothly with hired help like maids and cooks. It's beneficial to show that help some well-deserved love now and then, too.
The Babysitter: Whether live-in or not, a babysitter goes through a lot and develops a bond with the kids. He or she may develop a bond with the parent(s), as well.
The Guest: You've been invited to this person's house - and their bed - and they're showing you the ultimate hospitality.
Siblings...or More: The two of you are related, but you live together like a couple. There are whispers...are they true?
Roommates with Benefits: You're not committed or exclusive, but it's nice to have somebody in the same house with you that you can be with when you need it.
Mister Fix-It: All homes sometimes need repairs. Maybe a qualified repair person can make other repairs, as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[We can play it square, or we can do the apocalypse version of cutesy domestic stuff, your choice. Interested in both canon and cross-canon CR, happy to do things in her world, your character's world, or a jamjar!]

[ Not looking for smut or even necessarily romance. Give him children of any and all ages, from small to adults, they're all still kids to a man his age who's been raising kids at an orphanage for over half his life. Cross-canon and assumed CR is of course more than welcome.

But if flirting with or trying to date an old Catholic priest is really your thing, ask and we can see what can be worked out. ]

[How does guiding an anemic 20-something sound? Has a penchant for eliminating sin through covert operations, backstabbing his own pawns, and confronting people with contrived moral dilemmas.

It's been a while since I've seen Hellsing Ultimate, but I thiiiink I remember enough to AU him in, if necessary.]

[ Sounds good. Father Anderson won't approve too much of the whole backstabbing his own subordinates thing, but, he's dealt with Maxwell, so his patience for bending and twisting the laws of God is vast when applied to kids he's trying to guide on a better path.

And all you really need to know about Hellsing is the Vatican's Section XIII: Iscariot that Anderson works for. Be Catholic, be good, don't be a monster. Iscariot basically sees themselves as the necessary evil in the world, there to enact God's divine judgment in his name and answer for their sins in doing so later.

But, Anderson could just as easily have been on vacation and wandering and found this misguided kid that has some hope, if he gets the right attention. So completely up to you if you want him to have been dragged into Iscariot somehow, or just ended up being babysat by a mysterious Catholic priest who can take someones head off in the blink of an eye without even pausing his conversation. ]

[Hmm. Thing is, Fyodor would agree with Iscariot's ideology. In his canon, he's a criminal who outright passes judgment for what he sees as sin (and judgment is passed after said pawn is done with their part in his plan), and his goal is to create a world without his canon's version of superpowers. On the other hand, he tends to work alone and he's physically weak, so combat's out of the question. His strengths revolve around programming + hacking, networking across organizations, and scheming.

How about - he can be around 17 or 18 and contemplating if he wants to join Iscariot directly or to run an independent thing? ~~And promise Father Anderson, no more hacking servers that aren't supposed to exist.~~ I figure Anderson can be the mysterious Catholic priest Fyodor likes talking with, but then the kid got curious at some point and tried digging up info on him.]

Edited 2018-09-09 17:53 (UTC)

[ The Vatican isn't too big on cyberwar, but that could be a reason why Anderson decides to check the boy out. Times are changing, and if they want to keep up with Hellsing, a bit of tech support that shares their views could be useful. So, most definitely could work around with them both sizing each other up, one debating to join and one debating if the other's worthy of joining, if that sounds good.

And, digging up info on Anderson himself, would have brought up interesting facts. Most notable being that beyond being listed as a Catholic priest, he doesn't exist. No records, no past, no history. It's as if there was nothing before he'd signed on to be a priest, and there's no record of how long he's been working in the Lord's name. As far as most of the world is concerned, the Iscariot organization doesn't exist. It's only when you start asking around the right circles in the underworld that you start to hear whispers about the Judas Priest, God's Assassin. But, Anderson would've told the boy bits and pieces once he'd actually come to him instead of trying to dig things up through computers. Basic outline of the organization and it's purpose. ]

[Sorry for the wait! Let me know if this works.]

--

Hacking wasn't the best activity to be caught with when one was a scholarship student. At the best, he might lose the means for continued education. At the worst, he might get arrested.

Armed with both intellectual vanity and youthful brashness, Fyodor was confident he wouldn't get caught. Moreover, who would accuse a student keenly interested in theology of committing a crime? For someone on the quiet side, his peers seemed to like him, and his teachers liked it when he laid out sound reasoning in response to their questions.

Perhaps that was why he'd taken such a liking to Father Anderson. On top of having an ideology he could get behind (and when he spoke of ridding the world of evil, his words carried a weight of certainty that Fyodor couldn't detect in other priests, though he didn't understand just yet what experiences fuelled that conviction), he felt as if the man wasn't entirely convinced that Fyodor was what others though of him to be. That he might've seen that despite being a teenager, Fyodor would go through deadly, if not roundabout, lengths to ensure the permanent removal of particular elements for what he thought was for the sake of mankind.

That these plans of his were still theoretical was besides the point.

It was this interest in the priest that drove Fyodor to look up his past and try to understand what motivated such a mysterious man, who came and went to preach the words of God, and there was little reason given for why his stays were short. Did priests not normally have assigned communities?

The scarcity of information, down to the lack of what Order Anderson might be part of, both frustrated and intrigued Fyodor. This was the very topic he would be thinking about when Anderson arrived to see the teen sitting under a tree and biting the pad of his thumb in thought. In his lap was an open book, though it was clear his attention was elsewhere.

(If he tripped on any alarm unknowingly when hacking - he was in for a surprise.)

Edited 2018-09-14 15:54 (UTC)

Wade still had struggling moments of insecurity when it came to his butherface - or would it be buthisface? Not as catchy really. Either way, being one giant walking scar made him insecure even if Vanessa deeming what little of a face he had was still one. The fact that she'd wanted to start a family both terrified and intrigued him and somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn't help but have his doubts. Maybe he was wasting her time, maybe she'd regret starting a family with him, maybe super-cancer is genetic. The more he lingered on the thoughts, the more pressure that built up between his lungs -- imagine that, immune to everything but panic attacks.

It had been enough anxiety to wake him up completely at four am, and after an hour of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling he'd decided to get up. A few hours later he'd found himself flipping a pancake he didn't even remember starting, clad in only a pink apron that claimed he'd "got this body with pasta and wine" on the font. If the pile of pancakes on the plate were anything to go by, he was on the 24th and apparently trying to feed a small army instead of just himself and 'Ness. Was he that lost in thought that he was losing time?

After placing it on the towering plate of pancakes, he set to dishing her up an actual reasonable amount, drenched lovingly in syrup - Canadian Maple, of course, none of that fake stuff that claims it's Canadian and is actually like the La Croix version of pancake syrup. Sure, it sorta tasted like maple syrup, but was it really? He set it and a glass of OJ down on her nightstand. Somehow she'd slept through his autopilot of making way too many pancakes but he hoped waking up to the close smell of breakfast would be a nice way to wake up.

There were few things as pleasant as waking up to breakfast in bed. Especially pancakes. Served up by Wade in only a ridiculous apron.

Yawning and turning on her side, leaning up on one elbow with a sleepy grin. "Oh, you didn't, did you? Did you cook for me?" She tended to be a heavy sleeper, and not necessarily the best morning person, but morning or not, chef Wade still made her smile. Chef Wade and syrup made the morning perfect.

She had to admit, it had been weird to be informed that she'd been dead, followed by not dead thanks to some time travel shenanigans that she didn't quite understand. But life with Wade was, well, it tended to cross that invisible line weird ended and batshit insane began.

Drawing herself up into a sitting position, she looked him over with knowing eyes. Somehow, she always just seemed to know when he was up ridiculously early, unable to sleep and worrying about something, even though his devil-may-care attitude probably fooled most everyone else. "You have a nightmare about Bea Arthur again, baby? Or did I forget an anniversary?" Vanessa was pretty sure she hadn't forgotten an anniversary.

"I did," Wade said around a grin, watching her with the same affection that was typical of him when he found himself looking at Vanessa. Something akin to sheepish amusement passed over his face as he glanced back towards the kitchen. "Hope you're feeling really hungry today." He didn't give her enough time to really question what that was supposed to mean before he plopped down where her feet had been moments before.

Wade mock gasped before speaking, "You know any dream with Bea Arthur is hardly a nightmare. Even if she's chasing me with a knife." Humour to deflect - typical Wade Wilson. "Nah, you didn't forget an anniversary. There was just this huge car accident you missed in the middle of the night - pretty sure everyone died. I had to go poke the bodies with a stick," he rambled, of course none of it was true, probably. He wasn't making a huge effort to make it seem real either. It just sounded a lot better than an mild panic attack followed by some light disassociation in the kitchen.

A bit lazily, he reached over to pull one of her legs across his apron clad lap and press fingers into the bottom of it, in an attempt to massage his own stress away. Seeing her happy always helped, especially on the bad days. When he'd lost her, he didn't think anything but death would solve his problems, but then Cable and his magical time traveling loophole-bordering-on-plothole showed up. It had been his fault. It'd be his fault if anything happened to her again. It'd be his fault if anything happened to any kids they happened to bring into the world. He was doing it again, he realised before shaking his head and turning his gaze to her. "What do you think about a spa day? We could put our hair - your hair up, get overpriced face masks and get our nails did?" Anything to distract him.

"None of the bodies twitched, did they? I hope the EMTs didn't arrive before you were done. It'd suck to have to explain why you were walking around poking dead people with a stick." Pretty self-explanatory for Wade, less so for the rest of the population. Not that she believed a word he was saying, and Vanessa didn't really think he was trying to make her believe it. That was okay, though. He'd been through a lot -- she didn't know how she would have coped if she'd been in his shoes and had to watch him die -- and nightmares or sleepless nights were bound to be part of it.

Granted, she'd rather that he talk about it to her instead of finding other ways to distract himself, but that would come. Eventually. And, if it didn't, at some point she'd force his hand and make him talk.

"And a leg massage?" Vanessa asked, settling with a sigh. "I've been a very, very good girl, haven't I?" Her eyes were sparkling with laughter that showed in the way her lips twitched. "And when have I ever said no to a spa day?" Not ever, that was the answer. Not ever. "You know, there's still time to get you one of those fancy wigs if you want a cut and color. The ones they make out of real human hair, none of that cheap fake stuff."

"Oh, you know the EMTs here, they have to stop for take-out before they even think about trying to save people." Nightmares and sleepless nights were just the icing on the multi-tiered cake with too many layers to enjoy. He knew it wasn't fair for either of them to shut off and not talk about it, but a mixture of frustration, fear and the general want to keep her from worrying about him has kept him from really talking about it in depth. Not that he knew how to really explain himself anyway, 'Hey, Ness, sometimes I think about how I lost you and can't stop thinking about it and how horrible it was and you want to start a family and if I lost you or a kid I'd probably throw myself into a volcano' didn't really seem like a well organised thought.

"You know it, baby, and unlike all that porn you see online, these fingers are going to make your muscles melt." He raised a non-existent eyebrow as he moved his hands kneading his fingers against her muscles. The amusement was infectious and he found himself smiling at her. "In this house we mutually consent on spa days," he quipped. Sure he'd surprise her with stuff like that, but he'd make sure she was okay with it first. "I have always wanted to be blond. Think I could pull it off?" He tilted his head, fluttering his eyes at her.

He haphazardly gestured towards her breakfast. "Don't let my magic fingers stop you from eating." Though, acquiring face masks and possible wigs definitely meant leaving the apartment, and that definitely meant that he had to actually put clothes on.

"I think it's weird that we haven't thought of making you a blond before now," Vanessa said, leaning over for the glass of orange juice, taking a sip, then trading it for the plate of pancakes. Cutting a forkful off, she took a big bite and made a contented sighing sound. "Of course, if you want to stay in and pain each others' nails, I could be convinced that it's a good runner-up plan for the day."

Honestly, Vanessa didn't much care if they went out or not, as long as they were together. As... disgustingly sappy as that sounded. But his highly illegitimate job meant that he was gone a lot, doing things that worried her, healing factor or not, super powers or no. So she was always happy when he was home and not out cutting off peoples' heads or... whatever. Considering how much time she spent worried, she might have actually understood what he was going through better than most. Not exactly, obviously. But she'd had her own issues with learning not to become a basketcase when he was out working.

"I think your nails would look wonderful with a petal pink polish," she added, wiggling her toes.

He let out a contemplative sound before he worked his way up to her ankle. "In another life I was blond before I became Freddy Krueger's half brother." There was a grin on his face when he looked up to see her eating. "The secret ingredient is love. And maple syrup in the batter. But mostly love." The alternative option caused him to pause, finger stilled for a moment before returning to what they were doing. "Painting each other's nails?! I'll be the Bob Ross of nail-painting. I mean, where else can you go and get each of your nails painted a different colour while looking like a four year old did it? You sure you're ready for that?" Oddly, the idea sounded exciting to Wade, and he wasn't even sure why.

He was very much in the same boat; as long as he was spending time with her, he didn't care what they were doing. If he could have it his way, he'd spend every moment of his life with her. When he wasn't doing the whole Deadpool shooty shooty stab stab thing, of course. "Petal pink? How did you know my favourite colour? I'm going to be the second prettiest girl at the prom!" He laughed, completely unsure of how he'd found someone so perfect. "You'll have to be gentle with me though," He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I'm a nail polish virgin."

A make-it-up-as-you-go spa day sounded great too. He knew his job was hard on her, hell it was hard on him sometimes wondering if his healing factor would actually cover a grenade blast or being stabbed in the face. She was stronger than him, he knew that if the roles were reversed he'd be a wreck constantly. Not that he isn't already a wreck but that wasn't the point.

Luckily she was flexible, because it allowed her to wrap the leg that wasn't draped over his lap around his back and sit up straighter, offering him a forkful of pancakes. "Have you even tasted these yet?" Knowing Wade, there was a giant stack of pancakes in the kitchen and he hadn't eaten a single one.

But the idea of staying home and doing each other's nails worked just as well for her as going to somewhere fancy to have someone else do it. And she couldn't help the giant grin that spread across her face. "How did you know Bob Ross is my favorite artist ever? Was? Is, because he still is. Was, because he's sorta dead." Which was a shame, really. Now she only had Netflix binges of his PBS show to comfort her in that respect.

Speaking of prom... maybe once they were done splattering each other's nails with polish... ahem, giving each other manicures... they could dress up like it was prom night and go to a Waffle House. That was classy as hell, right?

"Are you sure you want me to be gentle, or are you being coy with me, Wade Wilson. Because I will paint the hell out of your nails if you give me the go ahead."

"Nope, I mmfkantrd yoff to have a good breakfast in bed," He said around the bite that he graciously took. "Mmm, yeah, I can really taste the love." He licked the syrup off his lips, watching her like he was trying to commit every detail of her to memory. Truth be told, he was.

"He's dead?! No way! When did that happen! Ugh, all the good people are dying. He was my favourite too." Wade frowned, looking almost like he was pouting at this new revelation. The morning was starting to look better. "You know this means I'm going to have to buy some edible paints and we're going to have make him proud after our spa day." Because that's how you mourn your favourite artist.

All she had to do was say the word. But he was totally borrowing a dress. Or maybe he'd actually dig up the suit he had in the back of his closet... He'd never had a prom, but he sure as hell would have loved it if it had been with her.

"Of course I'm being coy," he laughed, "Paint the hell out of my nails, like I'm one of your French girls." He paused, looking down at his hands, more importantly his stubby nails. "They could probably do with feeling pretty for once."

Edited (icon) 2018-09-12 01:53 (UTC)

"Oh, babe. Decades ago." Like 1995, smack dab in the decade of grunge and pencil-thin eyebrows and brown lipstick. A golden age.

Setting the pancakes aside -- not that they weren't delicious, but they were definitely precarious at the moment, Vanessa shifted to straddle his lap and press a kiss against his lips. "Mmm, Canada." Winding her arms around his shoulders, she leaned back a little. "Just as long as they're really edible this time. Not like last time. Just because you say they're edible doesn't mean they are."

Ness hadn't gone to her own prom either. Maybe that was part of why they were a good match: they both had their own tragically fucked up backstories that were buried with humor and outrageous antics. Maybe. It also could have just been that the sex was hot.

"Oh, Rose. We'll need to get you a blue diamond ring. That's all your hands get to wear while I paint them." That was how the French did it, right? That was the lesson that Titanic had taught everyone. French people painted people naked except for blingy jewelry.

Ah, yes, frosted tipped hair and too much denim. The time before Ryan Reynolds had chosen to do Green Lantern. A happier, better time. Why did the good ones always have to die?

His arms moved to wrap around her waist loosely the moment she'd settled in his lap. "Mmm," he echoed her sentiment and opened eyes that he hadn't even thought about closing. It was like second nature to just lavish in everything Vanessa. "Anything is edible if you try hard enough. I promise to make sure they're edible this time."

It was definitely both. That and their humour aligned far too perfectly. If they had to make up for missed proms by dressing up and going to Waffle House, well, he wouldn't complain at all.

"I think I have a blue raspberry ring pop somewhere." If that's what she took away from that movie, Wade would be pretty sure they took two wildly different things away from it. "I've never been so excited to have my nails painted before!" It was weirdly true, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe the fact that he would just be the focal point of her interest for a while. To be fair, he was a lot, but this was different.

His giddiness manifested itself by him pressing another quick kiss to her lips before pulling her closer to hug her. "Do you want me to put Glee on in the background? Or Hairspray?" Anything with music, probably. "High School Musical?"

Well. There was also the fact that Rose was a total bitch. You could get that takeaway from Titanic too.

They both could have fit on that door, dammit.

"Perfect! We'll take a picture when it's done and frame it for the wall." It was probably a good thing digital photography was a thing now, because if they had to send in rolls of film to be developed they'd be sending in some really embarrassing pictures.

"You know the way right to my heart, Wade Wilson," she said with a laugh, pressing her cheek against his. "Surprise me. I love your surprises." His surprises were pancakes in bed and at-home spa days and things like (sometimes) edible paints and underwear. "But you have to promise to sing along to any duets with me or I'm calling this entire day off."

Didn't everyone take that away from Titanic though?

Mythbusters proved it. She's just a greedy bitch.

Wade smiled, too incredibly touched that they had this. He never thought he'd be the type to have pictures on a wall. At least not of himself and his wife. The smile faded as the line of thought brought him right back to what had been bothering him earlier in the morning. "Yeah, it'll look great," he replied a bit weakly. But the smile that he met her with was as genuine as his typical smiles.

"God, I'd hope so, or I'd be the worst husband ever." He sighed, enjoying their closeness, and not exactly wanting to move to turn whatever movie he decided on on yet. "I'm shocked and offended you think I wouldn't." Fingers strummed up her sides to tickle her in retaliation. "It'll be the most fucking Disney thing you've ever seen or heard, babe."

Oh, Mythbusters. If only everyone could make their boats out of duct tape.

That weak tone of voice got a bit of a look from Vanessa. She might not have seemed like it, but she was gathering every clue and storing it away for future use. Not in a 'I'm going to make your life miserable with this information' sort of way, but in a 'I'm going to piece this together if it kills me and then fix it' sort of way.

"Oh, the worst. The absolute worst. Making me breakfast in bed, wearing a sexy apron, painting my toenails." Her voice was playful as she leaned in to kiss him again. "I really should have held out for a better option," she murmured against his mouth.

Then leaned back, squirming against his hands on his sides. "In case you didn't know, birds and deer and bunnies and all the wildlife circle around and do my hair when you're not looking. Disney things are my thing."

His hands stilled, resting against her sides when he'd decided she'd had enough tickle torture. "Is that how you get it to look so good? Disney magic? I knew it was always too perfect. One of his hands left her side to find a couple strands of her hair and give it the barest of tugs, not one that would hurt, just one that said he was being playful. His gaze stayed on the piece of hair for a moment before it slid up to watch her - if he were a cartoon, his eyes would have been hearts.

His hand moved to rest against the side of her neck, scarred fingers splaying out and curling around the skin. He was trying to ground himself in the moment; maybe it was the el cancer in his brain making him keep thinking about the shit he'd been lost in his head over for hours earlier. His thumb traced the line of her jaw before he pulled her back, so that their foreheads rested together.

"I was thinking I'd go out later tonight or tomorrow and get some new locks for the door," Wade finally said, a hint to what was going on in his mind without really meaning it to be. Maybe a security system of some kind too. "And maybe a dog. That guy wouldn't fucking dare kill another dog, audiences would riot," He rambled more to himself. "We should probably get a dog before we try the baby thing, right?" Wade tried to keep his voice even, trying to sound like the whole topic at hand was just as simple as the weather.

"We could get a shar-pei."

"Babe, if we want a guard dog, maybe we should get one that might actually scare someone." Vanessa didn't even know if they were allowed to have dogs in their apartment. Although... fuck it. They probably weren't supposed to have assassins for hire in their apartment either and, yet, here they were.

"Is that what's bugging you?" She squeezed his shoulders, shutting her eyes, enjoying the contact of his forehead against hers. There was something terribly intimate about moments like that that she'd always thought she'd hate. Until she met Wade.

"We can get whatever you want if it'll make you feel better. But, I've got to say, you're one hell of a security system. Let's go to one of those completely boring home improvement stores and get all sorts of security stuff. We'll trick this place out like 'Home Alone'. And then we'll go to the shelter and find the meanest looking dog. And name him Fluffy."

Wade had never asked, he didn't care about what their apartment did or didn't allow. "What's not scary about shar-peis? Shar-pei? Shar-peieese?" Though she had a point, he's not sure he'd be too afraid of a shar-pei barking at him.

His thoughts had been so loud all morning he could barely hear himself think, which really says something about his whole state of mind. "A little," he admitted. It wasn't a little. It was bothering him a lot.

Wade's lips quirked upwards at the corners, unable to keep himself from smiling at her antics. They were so much like his. How did the universe think he deserved someone so perfect. He would say that he's not always there, he can't always protect her, because he knew first hand, he couldn't. "Fluffy is the best name! Why didn't I think of that?" Is what he said, instead. "Alright, alright, but first we totally have to have this spa day. My nails have a severe need for petal pink."

"Shar-peieese, definitely Shar-peieese," Vanessa said with a knowing smile. But she didn't think she really had to explain why one of them wouldn't exactly strike fear in the hearts of anyone coming to hurt either of them.

"Sometimes you're the worst liar." Once he'd starting putting those fears out there, things had started to click into place for Ness. And she got it -- she really did understand what he'd be worried about. It wasn't like she hadn't had some of the same fears. Bringing a child into this fucked up world was one thing all on its own. Bringing one into the world whose father was a mercenary and whose mother was an ex-prostitute, where they quite often had to wash blood out of clothing, and where, apparently, assassins sometimes showed up who could only be stopped by sharpened cheese knives was insane.

And still.

"You got it. First petal pink nails, then we go out in public."

"I'm an amazing liar, you just have a built in lie-detector. I'm thinking robot," he mumbled a bit like a child who had been caught doing something they shouldn't have. He didn't want her to worry about him worrying, which in retrospect sounds really annoying and convoluted, but fuck if it wasn't true. He gasped, sounding over-dramatic and fake. "Are you from the future too?" The shitty grin on his face made it clear he was just being a dumb ass.

"I can't go out having my nails looking like this," he brought a hand up next to his face and wiggled scarred fingers. "What will people think?" Though, it wasn't usually his nails people looked at, and sometimes he just wanted to wear his mask everywhere. It always felt like he was being watched and half the time it caused a panic attack to scratch at his chest.

God, who would of thought; bad guys weren't what gave him anxiety, it was people staring at him and whispering in public places. He couldn't seem to get over it, even if he'd begun getting good enough to mask it from Vanessa.

"I'll get the movie, you get the nail polish?"