bakerstreet | Domestic Meme

Domestic 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[House hunting sisters???]

[ yes

Surfing Craigslist for the cheapest of the cheap, here, but still: ] Why are apartments so expensive?!

Because we like our electricity?

I know, I know.

[ POUT. ] I think without the Internet, I might kill someone, but—

[ IT'S HARD BEING BROKE BROSIS. ]

[She doesn't like stealing for stuff like this, either...]

We'll figure something out.

Know any kids in need of violin teacher?

'Cause aside from web-surfing, that's pretty much my main skill...

[ Peeking her head out behind the door. Oh so hesitantly. ]

U- Um.

Whose turn is it to do the dishes... ?

[Willow smiles, faintly, running tongue over lips as she looked at Cyd. She doesn't know how she lucked out with the cute red roommate... but she was having fun watching the girl squirm.]

Think it's yours... [Definitely a lie.]

[ Willow gets a tight, too-many-teeth smile in return. Yeah. Something about this girl is making Codex nervous, even if she's not entirely sure what. Even so... ]

Are you sure? I, I checked the calendar and I don't think it says that...

[She's giving her best puppy dog pout, now - almost simpering as she leans forward, hands folded beneath her breasts.]

Thought you liked doing dishes for me... [A step closer, hands unfolding to reach out. She just wants to brush some of that red hair away. Reveal a stretch of neck.] Guess we could always do them together...

[ She, on the other hand, is going to try not to whimper as Willow touches her. Every fiber of her being wants to take a step back, maybe even just run out of the apartment, but she's trying to be a good roommate here. ]

They- they would go a lot faster that way...

[Mumon adored his wife, he really did. The trouble was, he feared her almost as much. For everyone else and everything else he was completely fearless. Maybe it was the fact his wife was hardly a shrinking violet or maybe it was because he loved her enough the idea of upsetting her was terrifying. And as emotionally cowardly as he was, he became literally cowardly around her.

So after an argument he had run off to let her cool down and had spent a while trying to work out when was the optimum point between 'not gone long enough' and 'gone too long.' Eventually, after many hours, he screwed up his courage and came home. Half opening the door, he peeked through and pretended to call aloud whilst actually whispering.]

L-love?

[All was deathly quiet. The living room was undisturbed, pristine almost. Elsewhere in the house one could hear the ticking of a clock. The rhythmic, steady clicks would have been more comforting if the situation was a little better.

Do you still dare enter, darling husband?]

[Mumon had a small advantage over the average scared husband. He was a ridiculously good ninja, which meant when he decided to brave the dangers of his own home he walked in near perfect silence, instinctively following the lay of the shadows with as little cover as they offered. He sweated bullets all the same, the almost silence raising the hairs on the back of his neck to the point he decided to mutter as quietly and quickly as humanly possible-]

Guessyou'renothomeI'llcomebacklater...

[This was probably the part of her marriage that 18 enjoyed the most. Her husband was both capable of being frightened as well as skillful enough to hold his own. Watching him duck from shadow to shadow, sweating bullets and looking for her around every corner left her feeling a sense of both admiration and almost feral triumph.

She was no match for him in stealth, that she had learned quickly. The one advantage she had was the lack of ki she gave off. She had no qualms about abusing this perk in their - what she viewed as - games of 'cat and mouse'.

And now was the perfect time. She had been laying in wait behind a half-opened door, biding her time until he had to pass by and turn his back. Would she manage to lay a heavy, grasping hand on his shoulder this time? It was a 50/50 shot really but that was part of what she enjoyed about this.]

[He had never been able to get around her lack of discernible aura. He'd tried endlessly, but even he didn't have the senses for it. She was the one person who could sneak up on him, which only added to his fears. And in a way, was another thing that made her special to him.

Already preparing to flee again, 18 got heads on the coin flip of fate when her hand grasped his shoulder. But, being grabbed wasn't the same as being caught, not for him. In a smooth motion he twisted his shoulder and dislocated it, bent in an unnatural way and popped it back in on his way to the ground, where he fell to his knees and bowed his head down low. This too, was something that sometimes occurred and sometimes didn't. He only pulled things like this when he was really scared he'd screwed up and she wouldn't forgive him this time.]

[He always managed to surprise her, particularly with that little dislocation act. By the time he was bowing on the floor, 18 was smiling with obvious delight... well, smirking with it. It was still delight though.]

Were you trying to sneak in without me noticing again, darling?

[Mumon raised himself up enough to show a deeply nervous smile. Perspiration dripped from him too. Although in a perverse way, the smirk was a good sign. He might be in for hell, but it wasn't an indication he was going to get thrown out.]

Of course not, love! Didn't you hear me calling?

[Technically not a lie, of course.]

[Not just yet anyhow.
His words make 18's brows cock upward.]

I heard you mumbling at one point. Is that what you call 'calling'?

[One of the things about Mumon was that he hardly ever showed his true feelings and often hid behind exaggeration or feigning being a buffoon.

That was why his response to 18's question was to mutter something so quietly it was completely unintelligible.]

[... Huh? 18 ends up kneeling down.]

Speak up.

[Lifting his eyes to meet hers, Mumon tried his best to give a smile despite his obvious fear of her displeasure.]

I said, I didn't want to disturb you if you were busy!

Edited 2013-05-27 13:56 (UTC)

Is that all? There's no way you could disturb me, darling.

[She reaches forward to brush fingertips against the top of his head, expression soft.]

Since what I was busy doing was waiting for you to come home after you ran away.

[I-is she digging her fingertips in?]

Edited 2013-05-27 16:17 (UTC)

[Oh god, she's digging her fingertips in. The thing is, if he even attempts to get away from it surely she will make him endure worse. And maybe some physical abuse will calm her down. Oh please let it calm her down. His teeth grit but he doesn't make a noise.]

I was just giving you some space to- [-Calm down? No, don't say that.] -think. Ah-hah. H-have I mentioned I love you today, by the way?

[He had. He made a habit of telling her every morning, but it was never routine or empty.]

You were running away.

[Haven't they had this discussion before? She honestly couldn't remember. It seemed like every time her anger rose (and at times her power level), he disappeared like a phantom in the night. Damn ninja skills.

His senses weren't bad though, his strategy usually worked. By the time he came back home, she was usually out of her 'I'm going to crush you' stage and into her 'You. Bed. Now.' stage. At least most minor infractions by this point only garnered him sour looks and not full-blown rage like this so day to day life wasn't so bad.]

Am I that frightening still?

[Mumon closed his eyes tight when she corrected him. That was hardly a good sign, when she wasn't willing to let him get away with even the most minor parts of this particular dance.

And then she asked that question. The question that he dreaded just as much as her ire.Because he couldn't bring himself to say out loud it was fear or her, it was fear of being without her. And in his messed up mind that had been taught to be a foul beast incapable of anything worth existing, he was consumed by enough terror to do the things most likely to cause that in his attempts to avoid it.

So when he opened his eyes he very, very, very poorly lied.]

I-I-I-I am not scared at all.

[The art of communication in marriage is very important. Without it spouses run the risk of eternal disagreements that eventually fester into ill feelings leading to separation.

And 18 shows what a master of communication she herself can be by gritting her teeth and bearing down unconsciously with those fingers.]

Do you think I'm an idiot? I can practically feel how frightened you are myself! A little argument shouldn't be enough to make you this scared.

[Because coming just short of demanding your husband not be scared of you while you dig your fingers into his scalp always works. How did they manage to get married again?]

[They probably managed to get married because a) without a trace of the fear he had now he had chased her, begged for her affection and loved her without a hint of surrendering and b) of moments like this-

His hands raised to grab her wrist, but it wasn't to struggle or try to break her hold. It was unusual. Somewhere between a drowning man grasping the hand of the one saving him and a loving hand holding. When he raised his eyes to meet her gaze, it was solid, strong look, even if his face was still shining with sweat from prior terror.]

I am not afraid of you.

[It was said in a way that no one could question its sincerity.

It lasted a few seconds before it was gone, nervous again and going a little limp.]

...I am scared of arguing with you though.

[It was hard to express oneself when you weren't really aware of who you were. Mumon wasn't even his name. It was a codename. Where he came from, he didn't know, who he was he didn't know, what was the purpose in existing he didn't know. The one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to be with 18.]

I am not... a good husband. I only want to see you happy, but I don't know how to make it happen.

[Sometimes their little spats went rougher routes. Mumon might have expressed his lack of emotional know how in fear but 18 had always expressed her own in anger. Confusion, doubt, annoyance, love, hate - when it came to things 18 couldn't readily identify, frustration was her first resort.

His hand grabbed her wrist and for a moment it was complete surprise that took away the angry fire that had been in her expression. For someone who had such a hard grasp as hers, her wrist was small in his hold. Her grip slackened as he spoke, turning limp and nervous again before he apologized.

If Mumon has divined a strategy for dealing with 18's moods, he had picked well. She seemed to wilt just a little before she gave a long sigh. Her voice was faintly exasperated and completely fond.]

You're such an idiot.

[His hands were tough and calloused in ways most people could ever achieve. Training in the most harsh of ways since he was old enough to walk had done that. It felt so strange for his dangerous hands to hold someone in this way.

Even with the fondness in her voice his reaction was to drop his gaze and after a sharp intake of breath say-]

I know. Please forgive me.

[18 leaned forward in the next moment to press her forehead against the top of his head.]

Just this once.

[Mumon's breath was a slow shudder, but his calm was returning. Letting go of her wrist with one hand, he used the other to rub his face.]

Haah... Just once, huh? I better shape up...

You better.

[There the blonde leaned back away from the man and gave him a fist smack on the head. Naturally it wasn't with much force. No matter how she fought with him, Eighteen was decidedly softer with her blows than she could have been.]

[Despite how relatively soft the smack was, Mumon still went down. More to roll with the punches than anything else, but he decided to sit cross legged at her feet whilst rubbing his head.

Despite it all he had sprouted one of his rarer smiles, not one of us usual smirks or a nervous one meant to appease. He just seemed happy, in a general sense. That didn't happen often.]

Hee-hee... Can I start tomorrow?

[Judging by the way he said it, it was a set up for some sort of line he'd made up on the spot. All he needed was her to ask why or something like that.]

[It was all part of the act. When this bit happened anyhow. It was still a relatively new thing to Eighteen.

Her brows rose upward.]

Tomorrow?

Mmmhmm. Because today I'd like to be a lousy husband and...

[He cocked an eyebrow.]

Paw shamelessly at my wife.

[For a moment she actually did look surprised, her brows raised upwards.]

[And then she huffed out a laugh against a hand quickly placed over her mouth, icy blue eyes made warmer by the concealed smile the laugh brought.]

Oh would you now.

[Today was a day unlike any other. It was storming outside and on her way home from the grocery store she found a box with a lonely little puppy inside with the saddest looking face. Claret couldn't just leave it there in the box, could she? Not when he looked at her with those pretty brown eyes. She picked up the box with her free arm and ran the rest of the way home, completely soaking her to the bone.

She wasn't sure if Fang was home yet so she quietly opened the front door and toed off her shoes at the front door. ]

So far... no sign of her. We might be lucky, Puppy.

No sign a' who?

[Fang come around the corner, arms folded across her chest. She leans against the door frame briefly, eying the sopping mess of a box - and a girl - puddling in the front hall. She can't help but a small, wry little smile. One brow arches.]

What'cha got there?

[ She squeals when she hears Fang's voice and quickly hides the box behind her back. Her face heats up immediately and she tries to play it off like she's completely innocent. ]

Hmm? I'm not sure what you're talking about. A-anyway, what are you doing home already?

[ Life, recently, had gone from a ho-hum every day blur into a whirlwind. Heero had returned - he'd reunited with him, said goodbye to his old life, picked up and moved into his lover's apartment on L1, gotten married, and picked up a puppy he'd found in some alleyway he'd been using as a short cut home. All in the past week or so, their lives had been turned on their heads, but as Duo sits and spins his wedding ring on his finger, he thinks it was worth it.

He scrolls past a few more homes, located anywhere but L2 and L1, and sighs. There's so many variables to think of. The puppy in his lap, their safety, the location of the house -

Duo sighs as he stands up, setting the sleepy pup in the little bed he'd placed in the living area to continue his rest somewhere out of Duo's lap, looking for his husband. Heero had been cleaning, while he'd been on the search for homes, so it doesn't take long to find him. ]

I think my problem is there's way too many options and variables, baby..

[At least the puppy was sleeping on Duo currently, and not awkwardly scrambling about underfoot, trying to play with dust bunnies that Heero was trying to sweep up.

The apartment he was renting has gotten a bit messy in their whirlwind week, something the Japanese young man didn't take well to. So he had gently but firmly stated he would spend the afternoon cleaning, while Duo looked at houses. He didn't expect it to be an immediate thing, them moving, and he didn't mind.

Heero looks up from putting away the last dish, and sets his towel on the counter for now.]

It's fine. Just keep track of the ones you like, and we'll see if there's a pattern.

Yeah but I want them to get your approval, too... [ Duo sighs, pushing his hair out of his face. He'd looked at Earth as an option, but weather and all the rest had driven him off pretty quickly - seeing as he'd had a few bad experiences he'd rather not relive when it came to that sort of thing. So a colony it was. ]

Y'know, if we go to L4 we can have a gated house in a gated community. With a huge ass loft bedroom and everything. The only downfall would be constant invites to Quatre's dinner parties.

[So making dinner for a Vampire is super hard. Especially when you can't cook and halfway through you realize that fuck, he's a vampire, and all you really need is a little two buck chuck red wine for yourself and a glass and a pint for him.

Sometimes he forgot it was so damn easy. But with the huge mess Hanna's made in the kitchen, no matter how fast he works to get it clean, but the time Conrad comes back, it's still going to be a fucking mess, and whoops. Well?

There went his plans for the evening, and so when Conrad does show up, it'll be with Hanna trying his best to scour the bottom of a pot that's got stuff burned into the bottom of it, two lone wine glasses in the middle of the kitchen table, unfilled and pretty much forgotten by now. Oops.]

[Conrad prefers that Hanna stay at his condo. Especially considering that means he doesn't have to go within 10 miles of that dilapidated roach motel he calls a home - or Mrs. Blaney.

When he first smells the somewhat acrid odor as he walks towards his door, he assumes it's the rich college student next door. The oblivious, air-headed girl had only recently learned to make instant ramen, he was sure. But as he unlocks the door, he gets the sinking feeling that it's --]

Hhhaaannnaaa. [Look, he's being good tonight. He stops in the doorway to the kitchen. "What the f#ck-- Hanna, what kind of science experiment are you concocting in here? You could have asked - you're gonna ruin my pots!" ...Not that, y'know, he needs them anymore, although he cooks for Veser on occasion.

Edited (Wat iz formatting.) 2013-05-26 23:17 (UTC)

[The moment he hears his name, Hanna knows he's in deep shit. And when the man comes into the kitchen and starts yelling at him some more, well. Hanna's expression is an interesting mixture of guilt and sorrow.] Wait, wait, I'm sorry! I'm cleaning my mess, really!

I just...I wanted to do something nice for you and then like, I realized that you don't eat any more...so I changed my game plan but I wanted the kitchen clean first, and it's taking forever, and man...

[He deflates a little, staring at the pot he's still trying to clean, at the mess in the kitchen... At least he put the ingredients away and has cleaned off all the counters? The only thing left really is the dishes and cleaning the floor, but...that might take a while.] I promise I'll clean it up, really. You don't have to touch a thing, and then i'll just. Get out of your hair, really.

Sorry. I didn't want you to come home to a disaster, really! you'll get a nice night of peace and quiet and i'll leave you alone, cause I'm sure that's what you'd like on the menu after uh...this... [Though offering to leave kind of makes him deflate more.]

In any case, um...I brought you some more bags from Worth's. Put them in the fridge...

[ Clearly, she is meant for this meme. ]

[ It's not so much an argument as it is a complete inability to address the issue — mostly because Tony likes to hide away and build and build and build. It's not a panic attack. They're just bad dreams. Whatever.

She tells him as much. Often by flipping him off and telling him to go fuck himself, in between those rare moments when she actually surfaces from her workshop. ]

[Bruce, unsurprisingly, doesn't deal well with aggression being leveled at him when it feels true rather than playful. He can't work out how to tell her how bad it is without putting her more on the defensive.

It's terrifying, and he can't even lash out without getting everyone killed. But the last go fuck yourself ends with him walking very quietly out of the room, and then running into the panic room she'd installed in the tower, green and battering himself into the walls in a desperate bid to find anyone, anything, and destroy.

So, that's fun.]

[ She tells herself she doesn't care, probably too often for it to be true. JARVIS, of course, has a personality module that ranks certain relationships over others, and tells her what Bruce is up to more or less as soon as it happens. (He classifies it as a warning, but she thinks he knows exactly what he's up to. Isaac Asimov never had this problem.)

Tony's there on the other side of the glass, waiting with a spare change of clothes for Bruce neatly folded next to her, along with some crackers and ginger ale.

She kind of feels like an asshole, but what else is new, right? ]

[He comes out, clothes and dignity both in tatters, and winces at the sight of her. First of all, her seeing him like this is never ideal, and second, he doesn't want another not-fight. He feels like death warmed over.]

Hey.

[The ginger ale, though, makes him smile. He stays in the doorframe, holding out a shy arm for the clothes. Nudity is different when he's like this.]

[ She hands them over, her expression a little skewed. She's careful not to make contact. ]

You could have just— [ Tony makes a face. ] —told me it was this bad.

[ Apart from the fact she'd never listen, or give him time to say anything above her own ranting. ]

I don't like making this your problem, if I can help it.

[He admits, getting into his pants, quickly, pulling his shirt on and hiding inside it.]

I'm fine.

[Now he sounds like her.]

[ Tony makes a small, frustrated noise. ]

Don't give me that. We had that conversation about— [ Though she hasn't exactly been giving him reasons to place that faith in her, has she, nevermind being very calming, but if Bruce had stopped trying to make such a fucking big deal out of it— ]

Can you, I don't know, sit? I'm having a whole minute's worth of adult responsibility.

I smashed all the chairs.

[They'll have to find another room. He reaches absently for his glasses, but those are smashed too, so he tucks his hands into his pockets instead and steps forwards to follow her, so they can find somewhere to talk.]

[ Tony's feet lead her to her bedroom. It's probably not a good idea, all things considered (i.e., what last happened here), but it's a big room that's been positioned to get a lot of sun, and Tony's feeling selfish enough that she doesn't really care.

She sits on the ground with her back to the foot of the bed, raises a brow and pats the space next to her. It's an invitation to sit rather than be close, though she still has the can of ginger ale and the crackers. ]

[He settles down, and swears he hears his joints creaking. Transformations where he stays trapped are the worst.

He reaches for the ginger ale.]

We don't have to talk about it.

[ She opens it for him before handing it over, even if she makes a face. This shouldn't be so uncomfortable. ]

Yeah, well, I figure you can't hulk out twice in a day, so I'm taking advantage.

[ Not that she's actually any good at the talking part. ]

Erroneous. I can. It's like being raked over hot coals, but it happens.

[A little shrug.]

So don't call me names, or anything.

Yeah. Okay.

[ Awkwardly (uncomfortably), she pauses, trying to figure out what to say next.

Eventually: ] I'd say I was sorry, but I think I was trying to make this happen 'cause I knew it'd make you unhappy. So.

I'm really sorry to hear that.

[He admits, because he doesn't really know what else to say about the fact that she wants him to be where he is right now.]

Do you need me to go?

No? [ She pulls another face, rubbing the heel of her hand into her eye. ]

No. [ A beat. ] I'm fucking shit at this, Bruce, can you help me out here?

I want to. I was trying. But I'm kind of pretty close to the end of my own rope.

[Sipping the ginger ale is helping, though. And having him here.]

I don't know what you need.

[ She twists her fingers in her lap, fidgetting a little. ]

It's possible that I don't know either. [ Quietly, she adds: ] Just. Don't go? Or do, if that's what you want. Just. Tell me first.

Lately, it just feels like you kind of hate me.

[Which is maybe an overreaction, but.]

I know the proximity is daunting, so you're reacting to that, but I'm not the kind of person who can just-

Yeah. [ She interrupts him, because yeah, she can finish that sentence on her own. ]

I don't hate you. [ Tony's dangerously close to admitting something kind of self-aware about herself, so she's quick to amend it. ] I take it out on people I shouldn't be.

Okay. Yeah. I can live with that.

[He decides, breathing again. It's her. She hasn't come to agree with his opinion of himself, she doesn't want him to go. That's enough to start with.]

[ God, Tony hates conversations like this. It's just- she knows what to say, but not how to phrase it, and hell if she knows if that'll be enough, right? Not that all the misdirected anger is helping. Her hand twitches in her lap, like she was going for his hand and decided against it. ]

I was feeling helpless. I still feel like that. And I thought if I didn't have to think about it and I just made you go away so would the problem, like I'd feel like I knew what I was doing.

[Bruce topples unceremoniously over, resting his head against her leg, breathing out quietly, and just hanging on.]

I never know what I'm doing.

[ Tony's not the kind to be hesitant about a lot. Part of her's missed this though, so she's happy to gently rest her hand on the side of his head, smoothing a thumb over his temple. It feels foreign and familiar at the same time, which is kind of unnerving. ]

I can't be helping, huh.

You mostly do. It's just been a bit rocky, that's all.

[Quick to protect her, even from her own self-criticism.]

[ She makes a face, briefly closing her eyes. ]

Ever feel like you're completely fucking losing it?

Ever seen the footage of the minute right before one of my transformations?

[He wants to know, quietly.

Yes.]

I build stuff. It's what I do. [ She's not exactly so sure what she's trying to rationalize here; her behavior or something else. Or, more importantly, to who. ]

And I know you're supposed to lean on the people you love or whatever but I'm pretty bad at that. And I don't sleep and I fucking miss you even though I keep treating you like shit and not in the fun way, so.

[It's good to hear. Well, it's not fun exactly, but it gives him the incentive he needs to fight for this. His eyes open.]

What do you do when one of your machines gets a glitch, Tony?

Run a diagnostic. Fix it or disassemble it. [ She pulls a face. ]

Are you going to use an analogy on me?

I think it's more of a mental mapping tool.

Run a diagnostic. Start with the sleeping problems, and circle out. You can't sleep- what happens when you try?

[ Impatiently, though at least it's not anger: ]

You know what happens.

Not really. I usually just look up and find you gone.

[ Her expression twists. Another thing to pat herself on the back about, huh. ]

Nightmares. It's not what happens in them, you know, it's. You ever have that feeling something bad is going to happen and you just can't fucking shake it?

Yeah. And with us, something usually is. It's been a long time since the world was okay, or normal, Tony. The fact that you're still braced for the other shoe to drop is normal.

The fact that it's impacting you in ways that make you less able to cope rather than more is what we need to work on.

[ For a second there she looks like she's ready to bolt again, her brows drawing together in kneejerk anger, but instead she just exhales loudly. ]

There shouldn't have to be a 'we'. It's not your job, Bruce.

What's good for the goose is good for the gander. You're here, aren't you? I told you you could go.

[ Her hand shifts to lightly tug on his ear, making a face. ]

Ugh, shut up. [ Though, yeah. She is still here. And so is he. Baby steps. ]

So, what. Suggestions?

Google PTSD. Start on wikipedia.

[Not helpful, Banner.]

No, seriously. I feel like talk therapy is probably out of the question for you...

[ Genuinely not helpful, Banner. Tony's going to slip out and stand up a little, now, though it's more to feel like she's actually in control and doing something. ]

I just gotta get over it. I freak out. Everybody freaks out.

Would you say that to me, right now, if the situations were reversed? Think about that honestly. Am I going to just get over this?

[Propping himself up on his elbows.]

That isn't rhetorical. You might decide the answer is yes. But I think our episodes are more analogous than you might think.

[ She makes an impatient gesture with her hand, a hurry up and talk to me while I've convinced myself it's a good idea to stay here. ]

We just. We bring you through some of what I went through to stop killing everyone.

[ Bruce, when you phrase it like that. ]

What, like, your kumbaya bullshit? Sorry, not- whatever, I'm sure it works for you.

I was thinking you'd be more into the martial arts based stuff. I mean, you're already really good, but it never hurts to expand your repertoire. And there's a lot to be said for emotion control through physical cues.

Right. [ Okay. Hitting things. That's familiar. A gross overstatement, but familiar anyway. ]

You know, part of me feels like shit for even talking to you about this.

That part's hard to shake. But if it helps, talking to you, I feel better about it than I have in a while. So you're helping me, a lot.

No, I mean—

[ She's apparently done with words now, so she sits down infront of him, legs crossed. ]

Shit, forget about it. Just- c'mere?

[He slides forwards, with a hint of obedience that he hasn't really show much of since the snapping really started.

It feels good.]

[ Tony's not sure if she can- balance everything, at least not right now, but this part is familiar. It makes her happy. (You know. For varying definitions of that phrase.) ]

Sorry, [ she says again, her hand cupping his face, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. ] I haven't been around.

It's okay. We can both work on it. I'll be... I'll listen better.

[ No 1, please! ]

[ No romance with Lucina, please. Everything else is cool with me. ]

[ When Shizuo gets home he might notice one thing out of place. There's a girl sitting in the living room with extremely long hair. She doesn't really make much of a peep or any noise. She seemed a little too shy. ]

[ How long has It been since they started this relationship? Honestly Kurloz doesn't even know, nor does he really care. After all they where grown adults capable of deciding their own way. And he was a scary mother fucker so anyone who tried to give them Shit would instantly regret it. ]

[And it's not like anything would come of it... right? ...]

[Oh how wrong they where... he had but the bucket out as a joke, and the next day when it went missing, well he didn't think anything of it because they where dead. Well a week later something was delevered with a note to Porrim]

[She thought she'd heard some kind of scuffling outside, which was strange considering the dream bubbles were usually devoid of scuffly things. But she figured she had better investigate, so she went to the door of her hive with some trepidation. What she found lying on her doorstep, she never could have imagined.

A wiggler, tiny and bundled up in a blanket, with a note taped to the carrier. The note explained in no uncertain terms that the two of them had created this wiggler, and that they were expected to raise it, lest it be culled.

Porrim bent and lifted the wiggler to bring it into the house, cooing slightly as she did. She was used to handling wigglers, but how was Kurloz going to react?]

Hey...you should see this.

[She raised her voice just enough that he would hear her from wherever he was in the hive, but not enough to wake the sleeping baby.]

[The other troll had been lazily reading, hard to believe I know, but it was a book on the most famous serial murderer's of all time. He looked up when he heard his mate, putting the book down and getting up to see what she had. But even before he had entered the room he could HEAR it. His eyebrows creased in confusion before entering the room and seeing her with the child.]

[He blinks slowly, stepping forward silently and carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping wriggler. He looks up at Porrim and then down at the child in fascination. What kind of mother fucker put wigglers at another mother fuckers door?]

[It was then that he noticed the note in Porrim's hand. Carefully he took it from her, reading it over carefully. And then he reads it again...then he rubs his eyes smearing his paint before glancing it over AGAIN. Finally he looks at them, waiting for her to tell him this was all a joke. Them, parents? HAH! Gotta be kidding him...trolls weren't even meant to be parent's, and him and Porrim lived the most wild and reckless live styles. Nobody would dare leave a child in their care....right?]

[She has to resist the urge to laugh at his reaction. She's half-freaking out and half-excited, but mostly she's just. Confused. This isn't how things work around here. Their session failed, there aren't supposed to be any more of their kind, not here in the dream bubbles. Maybe that's all this is, a trick the dream bubble is playing on them. But at the same time...maybe it's instinct, but knowing that this grub is theirs makes her want to go along with it anyway.

She scoops the little grub out of its basket, and notices two things. One, it's a female, which makes her heart swell a little bit, because now there are officially more female trolls than male. Two, she's a cerulean blood. She supposes that makes the most sense; it's the midpoint between their two blood colors, after all. She coos softly as it snuggles into her chest, flushing a little green.]

Kurloz...Look at her horns.

[Kurloz on the other hand wasn't feeling very confident about the possibility of having a grub. trolls were not meant to take care of grubs, let alone someone like him. Kurloz had been born as a ruler of darkness and chaos and has spent most of his life on his own, waiting for his luses to come back. He didn’t know the first thing about caring for a wiggler.]

[But perhaps it's that side that causes him to open his heart a little. If what the note said was true, then they where this wrigglers only hope of survival and her only guardians. Even though he was practically abandoned his goat dad still came back once in a while to help him out, he wasn’t about to abandon the little thing. And besides, it might be fun having a little troll to play with.]

[The purple blood tilts his head and watches closely as she pulls the grub from the basket, taking it from her so she can focus on the child in her arms. Huh, he supposes a cerulean made sense if this was really their child. He can't help but smile a little as the baby snuggled up into the female troll, they looked so perfect together, right even. But he wasn’t about to say anything because that might be a connotation that Porrim was made for the caverns and blah blah blah, he tried to avoid anything that sparked her feminist side. ]

[He blinks, so she is a girl, and looks moves over to get a better look. His eyes light up at the horns, a perfect combination of his swirling rack with small, sharp hooked ends like Porrim’s. But he also noticed the grub’s hair which was long and slightly messy due to having inherited the Makara waves and random curls. But combined with the Maryam’s control it looked less messy and more of a fashion statement.]

[Gently, she pets the wiggler's long, wild hair, smiling widely for no reason other than it feels good to do this again. As much as she had originally shunned the roles set for her by Beforan society, she had that maternal instinct shared by all jade-bloods. And when she'd helped to hatch wigglers and prepare them to be matched with a lusus, it had made her pretty happy. Kurloz might not know anything about raising a wiggler, but she had at least some experience. And, well, they were already a pretty un-traditional unit as far as trolls went, more like casual human mates than anything. Why not break all the rules?

But then, she doesn't really know how Kurloz feels about all of this, or if he even wants to be involved. So she looks up at him, questioning.]

What do you think?

[He didn't dare touch the young thing, far too weary of possibly crushing it by accident, or dropping it, or just not doing it right. Kurloz didn't want to hurt it, after all, this child was there's and therefore was treated in a much higher regard to the purple blood then the others strewn about the dream bubbles. Honestly he didn't understand why they were there anyway; he supposed it might have something to do with Porrim's memories though.]

[Yes, breaking all the rules sounded good to him. If only he could see Horrus's face right now, or in fact any blue bloods. They would be freaking out if they knew what Kurloz was about to gesture.]

[At first he doesn't know what to say, to nod, and to try sign language? In the end he decides to just pull up the "I love you" sign, and smile, because really there was no right word to spell out right now. He doubted he would make a good father, or even a caretaker, but with Porrim they might be able to do this. And he’ll try his best to help out, and learn from the other. He wanted to be a part of this child’s life, and even give her a far superior one, because instead of just having one she’ll have two and she’ll never have to feel alone.]

[She beams up at him when she catches the sign he makes, and reaches up on tiptoe to kiss one painted cheek. He surprises her, sometimes, her indigo blood. She bends to plant a kiss between their grub's little horns, noting that she smells sweet and clean. She murmurs into her hair, keeping her eyes on Kurloz.]

I love you, too.

[She's relieved that he seems to be taking it well. To be honest, she's sort of thrilled; despite her initial resistance to her motherly instincts, here is a way she can embrace them instead.]

She's so beautiful.

[He smiles at the kiss and then moves so that he can wrap his arms around her waist, continuing to watch her and the child over her shoulder. For a while he just stays there, a million thoughts running through his mind and a million things he'll need to remember to think up later.]

[She seems so happy, which in turn made him happy. But as per usual when he starts to think, questions come to mind. He bends over and kisses her neck, moving away a bit so that he can freely move one of his hands and write down her arm "name?" along her skin.]

[He’ll leave it up to her; after all, Porrim will be the main luses so it’s only right that she gets to name the wiggler.]

[She purses her lips, studying the grub's sleeping face, the wide eyes closed to conceal what must be cerulean-tinted cornea. Porrim watches him spell out his question along her arm with a gloved finger, and hums.]

She will need a name. But what..?

[This will obviously take some thinking over.]

[He shrugs, resting his chin on her shoulder and also starring down at the child. He hardly even understood how they themselves got their names; let alone where to start in naming with wriggler. Of course it had to stay in the 6 character perimeter as well as a letter that comes up twice. Most Luses's named their child the first thing that they could pronounce. But Troll's had a wide vocabulary...Hmmm]

[She's wracking her brain, trying to come up with something fitting. It's difficult to discern what the wiggler's personality will be, what she'll be like, but she supposes she'll just have to take a chance. Finally, something occurs to her.]

How about...Thelia.

[And just as she says it, the grub stirs, waking up and blinking wide, cerulean eyes up at her parents.]

[He blinks, mulling the name over for a second before hearing the wiggler. He blinks down at it, cerulean meeting indigo. Then he smiles; Thelia that is the name of his daughter, their child. He signs it to the child, combining the word "The" and spelling L.I.A in order to say her name.]

[His smile of approval is met with one of her own; while he signs out the name, she strokes the hair away from Thelia's face gently, laughing as the grubs mouth seeks out one finger and sucks firmly on it.]

She must be hungry. Do we have any grub sauce..?

[Do we have any grub sauce? You're asking him...He doesn't eat much and when he does he just throws whatever into a protein shake, mix it with Faygo, and whalla he has breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But he does unwind himself from around her and goes to try and find some. He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge, a lot of faygo (including some empty ones) and blood packets but nothing that looks like grub sauce. He stands and puts a finger to his chin, deep in thought.]

[And of course the horror terrors answer him and he can hear a pop as the world materializes some straight from his memory. He picks it up and looks at it for a long moment, wondering if such a thing would even work for their daughter.]

[Still he brings it to Porrim, waiting for further instruction.]

[She doesn't pay much attention to the means he uses to procure the grub sauce, too busy taking the baby over to the couch and making sure she's comfortably wrapped up in her blanket to notice his alternative method of finding it. She looks up and sees it in his hand, nodding toward the silverware drawer.]

Can you put some in a bowl with a spoon, please?

[He nods and does as he's told, still wondering about all this. How the heck can you give life in a dream world, and for that fact how can two dead parents give life in a dream world? But he shakes his head, this is just another miracle, he ought to just accept it. But right now a weird previously dominant portion of his brain is acting up, making him worry. What is she falls asleep and just stops breathing...]

[Was this what it was like being a father? He brings Porrim the bowl and hands her the spoon. Or is he just being ridiculously over protective? He couldn't really tell. He then takes a seat next to her, starring at the wriggler again. Don't stop breathing little one...]

[She shifts Thelia to one arm, using the other hand to take up a spoonful of grub sauce and approach it to her mouth. The grub happily accepts it, slurping noisily until every bit of sauce is gone from the spoon. Porrim smiles down at her, obviously incredibly happy. It didn't make sense, this mystery baby, but she was going to take it for the miracle it obviously was.

...She was spending far too much time with Kurloz.

She holds out the spoon to him.]

Would you like to try?

[And that was a bad thing how? Despite what everybody said about them he loved their relationship and couldn't imagine being anywhere other than besides this beautiful girl.]

[It didn't take long for him to accept this little miracle into their family as well. Heh, wow...they really where a family now, huh? And before he knew it he had the biggest grin on his face just watching the little one eat away. ]

[Once Porrim stopped he brought a finger in to wipe off a little bit of grub sauce that had made its way onto the outside of her mouth.]

[He looks up at her, eyes wide and expression clearly shocked. What? Really? Me? But...He glances down at the baby girl again and then takes the spoon. Scooping out a bit of grub sauce and being as careful as possible as he tries to mimic what Porrim had been doing earlier.]

[Porrim watches Kurloz's face light up and gets a warm swelling sort of feeling in her pump-biscuit. It was sort of funny; they had both chosen to shun traditional Beforan relationships for something more like a human one, and now this. She definitely wasn't complaining, though. They made it work for them.

She makes a pleased sort of humming noise, watching him clean off the grub's mouth and then go ahead and try his hand at feeding her. Surprisingly, he's pretty alright at it, and she nods her head at him in approval. Silent communication is something she's gotten better at since they met.]

[He catches the nod of approval and smiles, glad he's not royally screwing it up, for both his sake and the kids. The kids may end up with food on her cheek, but if he hurts her he'd just die, both through guilt and possible retribution from the mother. He saw how the Dolorosa reacted to the weird human; he doesn't want to be the one being hissed at.]

[Kurloz kept going until the child stopped taking the grub sauce, satisfied. He didn't mind the silent communication, it helped her understand him, but he preferred it when she talked. He loved to listen to her, no matter what it was she was saying. And yes, he knew he could always teach her sign language but even that wasn't his preferred way to communicate. That was more a thing between him and Meulin, with everyone else he spoke through silent communication or written word. But he had begun to teach her the basics.]

[Porrim holds the grub while Kurloz finishes feeding her, and when he's done, their little girl doesn't waste any time in drifting back to sleep. Porrim rises, rocking the baby gently in her arms, and looks back at Kurloz over her shoulder.]

See? You're a natural.

[He gave Porrim a look that said "yeah sure, when oink beasts fly". A natural he was not, she on the other hand was perfect at it. He swears if he just touched the kid she's probably start crying. Though he thinks it would be more out of fear, the truth of the matter is it would most likely be from his ice cold skin.]

[Though cerulean and indigo where closer then Jade, so it's hard to say. He moves with her wondering where she was headed to now.]

[She catches that look, and laughs.] Or, well, near enough to one.

[She carries the sleeping Thelia towards their respiteblock, feeling like she should put her to bed somehow. Porrim sets her down in her own pile while she rummages for materials to make a new, smaller one.]

[Still doesn't think so but lets it go.]

[He watches Porrim for awhile, what kind of materials should you use for a grub? He tries to recall his own grubhood and leaves the room for a bit. When he comes back he has a animal bone. He doesn't really remember it well, but his goat dad mentioned he had a bad problem with gnawing on things. He also said it wasn't really a bad thing, it was good for him because it helped develop his teeth into adult hood and kept them sharp. He looks up at Porrim wondering if this would be the right thing to do or not, after all his goat dad isn't exactly luses of the year.]

It had been...a long road. Some once worried that the power from his 'demonic ativism' or whatever they called it, would be too much for his body. They never said anything about whether it would be too much for his mind.

He had made mistakes - grave mistakes. He had said things, and more so done things, that could never be taken back, never mind the state of mind he had been in at the time. Yuusuke would never forgive himself of his wrongdoings, and he was fairly positive Koenma never would either. The mazoku couldn't blame the prince, despite the emotional turmoil that came with the realization.

Yes, it had been a long road, and a lonely one, but that was his burden to bear and rightfully so. Almost two years after the series of incidents that lead Yuusuke to be self-exiled to the Makai, he won the Demon World tournament. Money started coming into the devastated area soon after, from an anonymous benefactor. Money to repair and rebuild. Kuwabara, too, found himself coming into a sum of money to pay off the resultant hospitals bills of standing against the berserk mazoku. He had recovered completely, but most likely only because of Yukina's healing touch.

Demon King wasn't really a position Yuusuke cared for now, but it was the only way he knew to even make headway to correcting what he had done. But under his less-than-tolerant hand, relations improved between the realms, and the already fairly small number of attacks on humans lessened further. The king's short temper never really improved, especially when faced with trivial disputes, but the blunt and somewhat brusque style seemed fit for the demon world. True to his word, Yuusuke never left Makai, and sent Hiei and Kurama, the only two he really trusted, on various missions of good will or treatise when needed.

It was all he could really do, but Yuusuke knew it wasn't enough. He sits today, in a room that doesn't really look like his own, barefoot and cross-legged on a furry rug made from the pelt of some sort of demon. He might be meditating, or just thinking. The sensation in his gut was similar to one before a big fight, but it was tainted with a sense of dread and nervousness.

The Demon King had sent an invitation to the Prince of Reikai.

When Koenma had gotten word that Yuusuke Urameshi had won the King's Tournament, he'd pretty much disappeared for the day. Ever since he'd returned as Urameshi's captive the subject of a certain mazoku part demon was a lot like setting off a bomb and expecting it not to wound anyone. Without fail, if the name Yuusuke came up, Koenma was much more serious, tense, and more than willing to go out of his way to become more hard edged with his issues as Demon King. He'd done his best to be a good partner, working in tandem with Yuusuke's requests and taking Kurama and Hiei's visits. The demi-god was largely the same as he'd always been, other than the slight crease to his brow and the unspoken knowledge among those who worked with him that something had happened in the demon world that the Prince of Reikai refused to talk about, and was quite willing to send people away from his office for mentioning.

He'd needed some convincing, from Botan and others alike, to accept Yuusuke's invitation to visit him in the demon world, but eventually he's acquiesced. it wouldn't look good that he'd never come to visit the new king, anyway. Flanked by two members of his special forces (no matter how Yuusuke had laughed at the idea of them) he'd arrived, a few quiet words exchanged with some of Yuusuke's staff, before he's introduced in to the room, eyes already wary and fixed on the former Spirit Detective.

He won't say anything, at first, allowing Yuusuke to make the first move so that he can better gauge his mood.

Yuusuke is uncharacteristically quiet, as the three men enter. Kurama has followed them instead of the normal guard, and he leaves the four men alone, shutting the door quietly. The youko will at least ensure that no one eavesdrops or interrupts.

The Demon King, dressed in his old torn jeans and a beat up white t-shirt, looks nothing like his title might suggest. He is, simply, Yuusuke Urameshi. Humbled, more serious, inexplicably sad, but still in essence the same young man who had loved and been loved by the Reikai prince.

Slowly, Yuusuke stands and faces the prince and his special force, giving a solemn nod to the guard in acknowledgement. His deep, troubled brown eyes focus on Koenma. There's a silence, long and perhaps uncomfortable.

All at once, the king of Makai, the winner of the demon tournament, drops to his knees, face to the floor before the prince of Reikai.

He'd meant to say things, certain, specific - or at least loosely planned things. He'd thought about it since Koenma had left: what he might say if the other was ever in his presence again. It's gone from his head now. Yuusuke has never been one for flowery words, or even appropriate words, and that hasn't changed.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," he says, hands clenching into fists. His tone is just a little deeper, a little more mature than when Koenma heard him last, but it's twisted by embitterment, anger, and a deep-seated emotion that nears self-loathing.

It's strange, how far one can rise while at the same time falling so far.

It takes a steel will, as Yuusuke stands in front of him, to maintain that utterly blank poker face, staring right back at Yuusuke, brown eyes emotionless and unwilling to give or take in any way, at the moment. He doesn't really know how long they stand there and stare at one another - though the anxious shuffle of feet behind them suggests it's for a time that might seem terse or threatening to the special forces lingering behind him. Normally this wouldn't have been necessary - and even if they couldn't truthfully stand up to Yuusuke if he snapped, it gave Koenma enough comfort to stand in front of Yuusuke like this.

Koenma can feel the tension, the fearful and unsure aura that radiates off of both of them while Yuusuke kowtows in front of him, though Koenma treats it with a near frosty curiosity.

"Then why am I here?" He questions, clearly ready to just dismiss Yuusuke and call this matter finished.

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Domestic Meme

mister scratch | alan wake

Codex/Cyd Sherman | The Guild

Re: Codex/Cyd Sherman | The Guild

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Lessseee... Which... option... to go for..

ASDFGHJKL welll rng says 4 soooooooo

Oh, good. IT HAS THE LEAST AMOUNT OF INNUENDO

LUCKY FOR CODEX

VERY

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18 | Dragonball Z

12

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1/2

2/2

Oerba Yun Fang | Final Fantasy XIII | F/F or F/M for castmates

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Sorry this is so late! o/

hey it's no problem!

Heero Yuy | Gundam Wing | OTA

9/4/3/2

All The Options! \o/

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Conrad Achenleck | Hanna is Not a Boy's Name | OTA

ROLLED A 13 oh god

This will be glorious.

Yes. Yes it will.

Emma Swan • Once Upon A Time

integra hellsing | hellsing | ota

Bruce Banner: MCU

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