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hansolmates · 4 years

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jjk; angel’s trumpet [07]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption w.c; 3.5k a/n; the beginning of the end! like my mama said while i was cleaning my room, it has to get messy before it gets clean! that being said this is a series for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! now that we’ve gotten this far, would you say our heroine has truly lost her mind?

[06] [07] [08] -> masterpost

Something is off and Jungkook doesn’t know exactly what, and therefore he has no way to approach it.

HIs knee is bobbing uncontrollably as he throws his phone back and forth from one palm to another. He’s in a recording studio downtown, in an unfamiliar area that made Jungkook thankful that he decided to leave an hour early. He hears some hushed voices from another room, and he tries not to fiddle around too much as the chair in the waiting area is rickety and on its last limb.

You texted him this morning with your usual pleasantries, saying you had a fun lesson to teach today and you couldn’t wait to set up your classroom. You’re also equally excited for Jungkook’s first recording session, and you urge him to “knock the socks off this producer guy.”

But since that night you slept over, you haven’t brought up the tears you shed in his sheet. You’ve been painfully amicable, insisting that you’ll tell him when the time is right.

Jungkook wants to be patient for you, and he will be. But he doesn’t know how to help you, help the two of you move forward without any context. He gets that the memories that are holding you back are painful, but he wishes to help ease that burden. Jungkook’s head starts to spin at all the possibilities that he could get you to feel comfortable enough to talk.

“Hey,” Jungkook’s reverie shatters when a small guy in all black comes up to meet him. Jungkook shoots up, hand immediately darting out to shake the older one’s hand. He chuckles, “Jihoon sent me your demo last week. You have some killer vocals.”

“Thanks,” he replies bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Right,” the producer nods, gesturing for him to follow him down the hall. “I’m Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook nearly trips over himself. He’s heard that name before, he’s sure of it. He tries to wrack his brain for the memory, something he’s brushed to the side after so long.

“Jungkook!” you cried. He was paralyzed when you first met, a frazzled woman shoving herself on him like you’ve known him his entire life. He didn’t know why you were trying to hide him, but you looked so terrified he couldn’t formulate a quick enough response. “Kook, what the fuck? It’s broad daylight, you can’t be out like this without a mask! Where on earth did you hide that bike? Dispatch will have your ass and the devil Min Yoongi’ll kill you again for sneaking out—”

“Uh, Yoongi?” the pair step inside his little studio, neat and monochromatic. There’s a comfy couch in the corner, and Jungkook seats himself there while Yoongi slides into his rolling chair. “Do you by any chance know someone named y/n?

Yoongi shrugs, too busy going through his computer files to take notice of Jungkook’s wheels turning. “No, should I?”

“Guess not,” Jungkook mutters, “what about Dispatch? Are you involved with them?”

The older one swirls around in his chair, knuckles nestled in his milky cheeks. “Is this an interrogation?”

Suddenly feeling hot, Jungkook shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“But to answer your question, thankfully no,” Yoongi leans back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, “thankfully they’ve been smoked out ever since they got sued for defamation against that SNSD member, among dozens of other women. That was what, two years ago? But my artists are always squeaky clean.”

Jungkook grapples the pieces in his brain, feeling the sudden itch to text you.

“You’re askin’ a lot of weird questions, kid,” Yoongi says simply, “but since you have the voice of a fuckin’ angel on Cloud 9, I’m willing to overlook it.”

The younger one nods wordlessly, letting Yoongi go on a tangent as he describes the song he has in mind and how he wants to approach it. He tries to focus, and intermittently fails as he falls in and out of thought, always coming back to you.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Hoseok, I feel it.”

“Feel what, nausea? Heartburn, indigestion? Upset stomach? Diarrhea?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Noona?” Bogum is sitting next to you on the picnic blanket laid out for the both of you. Today was supposed to be Hoseok’s off day, but Bogum’s mom offered Hoseok a pretty penny to take Bogum for the day while she had to attend a last-minute work project.

“Yes, Bogummie. Although it was a terrible joke,” you admonish, sending a playful grin to Hoseok.

“Do you like my new shoes?” with the attention span of a squirrel, Bogum hops up and jumps up and down on the grass. His new Elmo sneakers light up and make little squeaking sounds, “isn’t it cool! My shoes talk while I walk!”

You giggle, “Yeah, now we’ll never lose you when you go off to the bathroom,” you reach for his sippy cup and instruct him to drink water, “go play on the slide, we’ll watch you from here!”

Bogum immediately agrees, shuffling away with rhythmic squeaks from his sneakers as he bumbles over to the small playground on campus. Without the presence of children, you feel Hoseok’s eyes train on you as you try to formulate a response.

“I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I felt a little too… settled?” you taste the word on your tongue, hoping it matches with the turmoil going through your brain. You continue to stare at Bogum, not a care in the world as he goes down the slide for the nth time, “my life isn’t moving forward anymore. It’s so, peaceful?” you nod at your question, then turn to smile sadly at Hoseok.

“This might be the last time we see each other.”

While you don’t know the rules and regulations of whatever fate or magic that brought you here, you always knew that this time had to end. You feel like you’ve experienced enough in this small lifetime to feel this kind of contentment. Any further into this life and you could change it however way you wanted to.

You didn’t want to do that. You wanted to go home.

Hoseok’s smile is equally sombre, but he plays it off with a scoff. “I guess this is the part where you leave me and I have to go on with the rest of my life questioning whether these past two months were real or a crazy drug trip while I spend nighttimes TL;DR-ing our story on Reddit.”

You break into laughter, clutching your stomach as you try your hardest not to think too heavily of this moment. “Hobi, you won’t be alone in this. I’m going to tell Jungkook tonight,” you confess, “I don’t know how he’s gonna take it, but try to be there for him. For me?”

Hoseok tilts his head to the side, “In your world, were me and Jungkook close?”

You hide your grin by taking a sip of your water bottle, “Very close. He sobbed himself a river when you wanted to quit the group.”

“Hm, maybe we’ll be close someday too.”

“Maybe,” you pull out your phone, instructing Hoseok to do the same as he waits for whatever you’re about to send him.

Hoseok phone pings and he opens the document you just shared with him. His brows knit at the neat notes, zooming in the small font. “What is this?”

“For when the other me comes back in my place,” you lean over him to point out the details highlighted in light blue on your digital document. There’s addresses, student details, lesson agendas, even the money you spent while you used the bank account. “it’s in her drive, but I think she might… freak out regardless. If I really got hit by that oncoming truck, I don’t know what she’s going to be feeling. At least this is a quick cheat-sheet, so she can catch up on the past two months and continue on with her life.”

You try to tamp down the guilt that you feel, knowing your alter-self could be in a far more dangerous situation than you right now.

“So if you can stop by the apartment tomorrow—Taehyung and I changed the keycode a couple days ago, maybe bring over some coffee so you two can talk it out?”

“Of course, don’t worry about us,” and Hoseok starts to get teary, which makes you get teary as he says his next words, “once you go back, I want you to be happy, okay? We can’t exactly text or—or F-Facetime like we always—oh shit,” he shoves the sleeve of his hoodie in his eyes, “w-why does it feel like you’re dying or something?”

You throw your arms around him, letting him cry on your shoulder. You sigh into his amber bangs, his long fingers digging into your wrist but you don’t care. Knowing letting go was going to be hard, you’ve emotionally prepped yourself since this morning, but it doesn’t hurt any less when you’ve become so close with Hoseok.

“Who knows?” you run your fingers through his hair, in an attempt to soothe him, “maybe I’ll have another taste of that angel wine. You’ll show up in my dreams or something.”

He shakes his head, “Hell no. What if Jungkook really decks you with his motorcycle the second time around?”

“True,” you say, “I’ll miss you, Hobi.”

“Do me a favor when you get back, yeah?” he breaks apart from your embrace, squeezing your shoulders. “Go find me and try harder to be my friend, alright?”

You deflate a little, “But you’re so cool, I’m a little intimidated. It’s different when you’re surrounded by kids like a mama duck.”

“I know I’m cool, but just try,” he says, “and I’ll try to be your friend again, too.”

The two of you hug again, this time not saying anything. At this time Bogum waddles up to the two of you, sweaty and damp as he collapses onto the blanket. The two of you laugh as Hoseok presses a paper towel to the boy’s head.

Bogum scrunches his nose, “Why are you crying?”

You sigh, reaching to lightly pinch his forearm. “I’m going to be gone for a little bit. So take care of Hoseok while I’m gone, okay?”

Bogum frowns, but puffs his chest out and nods, “When will I see you again?”

Instead of you answering, Hoseok cuts in for you. “Soon,” he says with finality, eyes darting between you and a satisfied Bogum. He looks at you and mouths, we’ll figure it out.

This time around, you know you don’t have to worry.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Jungkook’s waiting in your room,” Taehyung jabs a thumb in the direction of your shared hallway. “Probably passed out and took a nap.”

“Oh?” you check your phone, “he’s early then.”

Taehyung shrugs, the strap off his backpack sliding down to his elbows. “Looked a little frazzled. Maybe he had a long day.”

“Yeah, he said he had his first recording session. Maybe it was overwhelming.”

Taehyung nods, moving past you to get to the door. “I gotta go back to the studio,” he grimaces, slipping on his loafers, “literally don’t give two fucks about Tiffany’s seniority. Her fashion taste is complete garbage and I’m ready to spend the rest of the night fighting her for it.”

“Good luck,” and in your haste, you wrap your arms around his waist.

Taehyung’s surprised by the sudden bout of affection, but he returns eagerly as he squeezes you back. “See you in the morning, we’ll go finish that Kim Seokjin drama we started.”

You force a smile back, “Yeah, see you.”

You don’t leave the little space by the door until you’re sure that Taehyung is completely gone from your vicinity. Relaxing your shoulders, you pull off your layers and bag and place them on your corner of the living room.

Padding quietly, you take your time in turning the doorknob to your bedroom in case Jungkook is still sleeping.

To your surprise Jungkook is not sleeping, however. He’s hovered over your desk, looking up at you from your yellow notebook.

“Y’know,” he says, tone sharp, “you really shouldn’t just leave your stuff laying out here like this. Anyone can read it.”

You bristle, shutting the door behind you even though Taehyung was already long gone. Maybe you wanted to contain everything in your room, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t run away at the story you had behind this.

“Usually people don’t come into my room to read stuff off my desk.”

“What is this?” he asks, “some sci-fi novel you’re concocting? Why do you have so much information about me?”

Over the course of your two months, you’ve added more and more to your logbook. It was the little things at first, like the differences between the Hoseoks and the Jimins. But then you felt like you were starting to forget your life back in W1, so you got to writing memories. Stupid, little tidbits about your relationship with Jungkook. Or the brands of wine you and Sehlyung would fawn over during your nights out.

But Jungkook is pointing to a particular page in your notebook, fingers digging so hard that his nails are turning white. You step further into the bedroom, taking slow steps as you approach your desk.

One sleepless night, you took it upon yourself to write the lyrics to Still With You. The lyrics are written plain as day, glittered with star and moon designs and a little air conditioner decorating the margins.

Your heart drops as you see the hurt marring Jungkook’s features.

“I haven’t told anyone about the songs I’ve written,” he says, pain dripping from his voice, “not even Yoongi. How on earth could you have found my song? How could you have known that I wrote it one night against my air conditioner?”

You feel like cotton is blocking your throat, “Jungkook, I wanted to tell you tonight—”

“What, that you really are a crazy stalker?” he steps back, whirling around so now he’s the one in the direction of the door. He takes two steps back, closer to the exit. “That I’ve been so dumb to believe your lies? That I should’ve left you on the street? That you still see me in whatever Jungkook you once knew and now you’re taking it out on me?”

“Jungkook, please listen—”

“Because now I know you and I can’t work out,” he spits with finality, hands finally finding the doorknob, “we will never work out—”

“I know!” you finally scream, and Jungkook falters. You’re shaking, but not erratically. You’re sobbing, shoulders wracking as you let your body collapse against the desk chair. This conversation feels startlingly familiar, as if you’re back to square one. “Dammit Jungkook, why won’t you listen? I knew we would never work out.”

Jungkook itches to hold you, and comfort you. Instead he sticks by the doorknob, feeling true to his findings. After all, the evidence is all in your notebook. While hard to decipher, it’s clear as day that you always knew a lot more than you’ve led on. He wants to ask more, but he’s far too hurt to continue tonight.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers, and slams the door to your bedroom shut.

Your body gives out, and you feel two tons heavier as you sink into your uncomfortable desk chair. Jungkook’s gone. Your heart’s not so much broken, but you feel awful for getting him mixed up into this. Seeing the betrayal and pain in his eyes is heartbreaking, especially coming from you, someone who doesn’t even belong here.

The whole room seems to be suffocating you, swallowing you whole. A shelf filled with medical textbooks and science jargon. A corkboard filled with pictures of your friends and family, all memories that don’t belong to you. This isn’t your life.

You need to get out of here, now.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1, four months before.

Namjoon is sitting between Jungkook and you, like two children and a parent having to intervene. Only this time, you two are being child-like adults and Namjoon is taking up all the leg space sitting in the middle of the back row.

Jungkook feels like he’s being squeezed through the open window, Namjoon refusing to adjust to his equally large size. He glares over his shoulder, finding you are paying no mind. He scoffs when he sees you nuzzled up against Namjoon’s blazer, babbling like a brook because you’re too wasted to form coherent sentences.

“What were you going to achieve by doing that, huh?” Namjoon’s voice is devastatingly low, not bothering to look at the younger man.

He sighs, letting the night breeze tickle his loose strands as he recalls what he did do. It’s all too clear on his end. Entering the bar was easy, after a few rounds with the gang Jungkook decided it was time to mingle. It doesn’t take long for a pretty girl to slide up next to him, with practiced ease finding her way to slot herself between his stretched out legs. And he let her.

And you? You were livid, of course. He could practically feel the burn of your gaze singing at the back of his head. But you weren’t going to cause a scene, instead you favored Taehyung’s inability to relent and inhiberation to the highest degree.

Which is why you’re all going home early, before it got too messy.

Jungkook doesn’t answer in the quiet car, but your soft sobs do.

You probably haven’t even registered that Jungkook is in the same vehicle. After all, they had to haul your deadweight into the seat because you could barely walk.

“Why, wh-why Joonie?” your voice is muffled by the thick fabric of Namjoon’s tweed overcoat, nails digging into the seams.

“Why what, bub?”

“Why doesn’t he want me?”

Jungkook’s throat clenches.

“He’s just stupid,” Jungkook feels dumb, listening to Namjoon and you speak as if they’re all not pressed up against each other like skinny sardines in a too-hot van. “Not to be intrusive, but the two of you are in a complicated relationship.”

You hum in agreement, your previous drunkenness mellowing out and turning into a tired haze. When you finally arrive at the apartment complex, Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to be the one to carry you upstairs. He barely gives Jungkook the opportunity as he sweeps you into his arms, making the way to your room. Jungkook follows the both of you like a stubborn duckling.

When Namjoon manages to get the door unlocked, he turns to Jungkook. “You should go up with everyone else. Don’t bother coming in here unless you’re gonna apologize.”

The door is wide open, and Namjoon straightens up as you float away to your bathroom, insisting you can wobble your way to get your makeup and clothes off. Jungkook tries his best to look confident in front of his elder, steeling his features.

“I’ll apologize, you go up first.”

Namjoon pulls his wristwatch out, “You got fifteen minutes. You can’t stay here tonight.”

Jungkook flinches when he coolly brushes past him, slamming the door on his way out. He then busies himself in your small kitchenette, finding your favorite Hello Kitty mug and pouring you a glass of water. He places aspirin and the water next to your bedside table, ready when you need it.

It’s been ten minutes since then, and he’s running out of time. Standing in front of your bathroom, he makes a move to knock. No answer. He can’t hear the water running, or faint lo-fi hip hop that you always liked to listen to before getting ready for bed.

Taking a chance, he turns the knob only to find it unlocked. You’re sitting on the floor, knees hugged and only in a long t-shirt.

“You can go,” you mumble into your knees, not wanting to make eye contact. “I’m fine.”

Instead he fits himself into your bathroom, sitting next to you. You don’t bother to move and make room, so Jungkook has to squish himself to fit. “Listen, pretty girl–”

“Don’t call me that.”

He sighs, “I’m sorry. I was being a dick and you don’t deserve that. I disregarded our feelings and that isn’t fair to either of us.”

“I said it was fine,” he sees how hard you’re glaring at the tile on your wall, nothing interesting but your eyes are ablaze. “I know why you did it.”

He stays silent.

“You want to push me away before we get hurt,” you state, “but you don’t get to decide that on your own, Jungkook. I’ll give you time, but don’t wag yourself in front of my face like I’m some shameless puppy begging for attention,” you get up shakily, and you hold out a hand in refusal to Jungkook’s immediate reaction, “it’s either all of me or none of me.”

And for the second time that night the door slams in Jungkook’s face, forcing himself to make a decision.

#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #goldenclosetnet #btsghostiebingo #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkooooooooooo

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cleocazo · 4 years

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ultimate ship meme: calder n rhea yeehaw

ultimate ship ask meme / accepting !

General:

How long will they last? : when i think about them, i think about them going the distance. in spite of anything that comes between them ( usually their own doings, and yes, i’m looking at calder thorson for straight up ghosting ) i like to imagine they find their way back, eventually.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? : it’s weird, because it happens without either of them even realizing it is. she makes him smile, and he makes her feel… important. they do something for one another that no one else has in a long while, and they become very attached to the feelings they have in each others presence quite quickly - but love, and calling it so, evades them a little while longer.

How was their first kiss? : long awaited. sexy. awkward. it was the culmination of a lot of mutual pining, and it MEANT something - but it was also a lot very, very fast, and it went very far very quickly, too. their first kiss kicked off their first time ( and rhea’s first, ever ), so… big feels.

Wedding:

Who proposed? : they live in sin a few years, but eventually i feel it could go either way - but i think it would be very rhea and very sweet for her to propose on leap day, you know… entirely serious, but trying to give the vibe of ‘if you say no, this COULD be just a joke’. it wouldn’t be over the top. she’d try and treat him to something he liked, and she’d probably make a bumbling mess of it, all considered - but she’d get there, and it wouldn’t go horribly bad. he’d try to match it eventually and propose too in his own way ( at the aquarium, a la their first ‘date’? ), but he’d also mess it up a lil even if they were already engaged - so they’d have two wholesome if not funny stories to tell.

Who is the best man/groomsmen? : i would hope that by this point, the relationship would be… healed, enough, for it to be the remaining next gen. let daniel be best man and rylie and troy be groomsmen, it’s what they deserve. ( if phoebe barton is rocking around, she gets to b flower girl bc i said so )

Who is the bridesmaid(s) : meghan would be maid of honor by grace of being the only married person that rhea knows, and stephanie would fulfill a more traditional bridesmaid role along with the only friend i can remember rhea having, felicia.

Who did the most planning? : rhea and jane, together. imagine the bonding sessions to boot.

Who stressed the most? : rhea and jane, haHA.

How fancy was the ceremony? : considering one of them is royalty ( was, probably, at this point ) and the other an asgardian, they went full casual compared to past weddings in their families past. it was a very small gathering, definitely more reflective of them as people. rhea wore the white dress and calder donned a suit, the people fulfilling a role all took them seriously, but their ceremony was in a modest chapel and the afters in a function hall not too far away from. it looked beautiful ( rhea thinks calder’s mum has the best eye for such things she’s ever seen ), but it was done on a small budget.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? : i mean… i don’t think i gotta say loki, but… loki. rhea’s ‘dad’ sure was NOT.

Sex:

Who is on top? : to b fully honest… they both love rhea being on top. for him i can imagine it being about looking up and seeing her - not to b crass - riding his d*ck. for her, it’s something about the feeling of control. they switch it up because there’s nothing really like the opposite, for rhea ; but… yea !

Who is the one to instigate things? : varies too much to have any one answer at their best ( though for a long while, calder ).

How healthy is their sex life? : i would say very.

How kinky are they? : ‘kinky’ is a strong word. they experiment, as they get more comfortable with one another, and as they grow. they try diff things. sometimes they watch some dumb movie, i don’t want to name an actual movie and offend someone so ill just say ‘fifty shades of grey’ and they think ‘oh, that’d be fun to try’ and they do and it ends disastrously, but, like, who am i to judge them-

How long do they normally last? : how is calder’s bedroom stamina affected by him being an asgardian ? does it make it easier for him to last longer ? is he able to get it back up quicker ? i have questions, where are my answers.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? : yes, this is an equal opportunity household.

How rough are they in bed? : depends on the kind of fucking, my friend. both of them enjoy a little bit of roughplay - but that doesn’t mean it’s every time, either.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? : a lot. and calder is only the big spoon 40% of the time !

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? / How many children will they adopt? : i’m combining two qs in one because… i feel they’d have three full stop, but how many of those are natural / adopted could be up for debate. something to discuss someday !

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? : calder. rhea’s, like… ‘totally fine’ with them, but… also, that’s dad’s job-

Who is the stricter parent? : it honestly varies on child and on the day. o might tell you that it’s calder because he stopped him from doing something wildly stupid, and he’s still pretty butthurt about it. tova might tell you it’s rhea because she didn’t let them dye their hair bright orange when they were nine and they’re still holding a grudge about it.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? : honestly… their kids are pretty dumb ( love them ), so… neither? they come home w broken bones or whatever and calder and rhea are like how in the fuck-

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? : rhea ! she never got them as a child, or, u know, basic human affection, so… she packs little notes of affirmation in each one even when they’re old enough to call her cringy, and makes sure they get all their essential nutrients every day.

Who is the more loved parent? : much like the question of who’s stricter - it varies. for the most part the title goes to rhea, not for any particular reason outside of her being more open with her feelings and being more… emotionally present, i suppose the term would be. but tova’s favorite will always be calder, and the boys can vary.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? : they want to go together, but it depends on work for them both and other varying factors.

Who cried the most at graduation? : rhea thinks it was her because she was a blubbering mess, but calder was real up in his emotions about it.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? : rhea never gets the chance, and calder is always first in.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? : rhea, after she learns how. not to show my jane stan, but she learns a lot from the most intelligent woman in all the galaxy-

Who is the most picky in their food choice? : pretty decisively rhea.

Who does the grocery shopping? : they take it in turns, but rhea isn’t as trusted doing it - she caves to the kids demands way too easily.

How often do they bake desserts? : once a month or so, but for the most part they are a carton of ice cream in the freezer family.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? : calder’s a meat lover, rhea went vegetarian sometime in her senior year and never went back.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? : calder ! softie.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? : neither. they like staying in, let them have that peace.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? : calder. absolutely lethal man. only ask him to make soup.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? : calder, for the most part. rhea says its because he can reach all the shelves to stack things / his arms don’t get tired from hoovering / etc.

Who is really against chores? : she’s not against them per say, but rhea doesn’t love ‘em.

Who cleans up after the pets? : oh, that’s a rhea job. she’s the reason they have ‘em, she’s responsible for care.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? : rhea.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? : also rhea.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? : calder.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? : calder with showers, rhea with baths.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? : rhea is in the routine, but the kids would join her and if he’s around, calder isn’t opposed to it either.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? : rhea goes all out every single year, almost to make up for the fact that calder doesn’t entirely… get the holidays.

What are their goals for the relationship? : happiness ?

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? : rhea, usually. calder if he’s been busy.

Who plays the most pranks? : the kids.

#pocmuzings #answered #c: rhea windsor #opp: calder thorson #ship: the last pretty girl & the last decent man #honestly i demand answers

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