courage, dear heart

tw: death, child (almost) death, hospitalization, surgery

     ( ─── :: “ i wouldn’t call it ownership. “ kneeling on the floor, jackson sifted through the stacks of books that littered his apartment in place of most of his furniture. he was sure the one he’d been talking to miles about last time he’d been in red velvet had been in here somewhere ── he just had to find it ( albeit that was a task that was likely to be a while ). “ she just kind of laid claim to my apartment and i couldn’t evict her without looking like an asshole. it’s more like having a really shitty roommate. “ glancing over at miles, jackson’s eyebrows raised slightly at the other man’s description of him ── or cat people in general. “ introverts and nonconformists ? “ he echoed, planting his palm against the floor and pushing himself to stand once he’d figured out that the book in question was not in this particular pile. his gaze darted to duchess, perched lazily on her throne, and his hands came up to gesture to himself. “ dunno what gave you that idea. i’m just using her to pick up women. since she doesn’t pay rent. “ 

miles’ eyebrows quirked up at the older man’s questioning of his word choice. “why is that? because she owns you?” he asked, as if revising his statement so that it could still technically be correct. “isn’t that what people who have pets say?” he watched the cat as she eyed him cannily back, wondering how it was that jackson came to - well, if not to own, to share a living space with her. the man gave his reasoning, and miles looked at him askance, squinting slightly. “’without looking’ - to the cat?” he asked, a bit of puzzlement seeping into his voice. jackson had struck miles as someone who didn’t care a whit as to what others thought of him, and he’d just supposed that species didn’t make a difference in that regard. miles shrugged, distancing himself from the data; it hadn’t been his experiment, and he didn’t want to be held responsible for it. it seemed to be a pretty frivolous use of resources if you asked him - but then again, science was science. jackson gestured to himself and spouted one of his lines, and miles merely blinked at him in response, unimpressed. “right,” he replied flatly. “and what’s the success rate of that particular tactic?”

location: jackson’s place, he’s borrowing a book or something idk

“i wasn’t aware that you owned a cat,” miles said as he laid eyes on the fluffy feline lounging on the sofa, frowning slightly as he registered that the creature seemed off somehow. he generally liked animals, having supported his twin’s lobbying to get a pet when they were children, and he understood the sense of comfort that must stem from sharing your home with another living creature - but this cat just seemed weird, and miles would certainly be keeping his distance. “then again, i suppose you’re the type - studies show that cat owners are more likely to be introverts and nonconformists. you seem to fit that bill, more or less.”

location: chez wiston​

“they say that baking is a science, but somehow i doubt decorating falls into the same category,” miles mused, frowning down at the snowman he’d just frosted into existence; the thing was abominable, that was for sure, but at least he knew that the pastry as a whole was pleasing to the palate if not the eye. his older sister had taught him well, and he really did appreciate the precision and definitiveness of baking. miles understood measurements and numbers and chemistry, those hard and fast rules that made the world around him a bit more navigable. mixing together eggs, flour, and butter would always result in dough - no room for misunderstandings or misreading cues or feeling like he’d somehow failed as a human being. baking was just baking. there was the added bonus that it was inherently sentimental and special, miles having spent hours in the kitchen with holly and their mother growing up. even now it felt undeniably comforting to be standing beside his sister at the countertop, working together on pastries that were meant only for them and their sister. 

      “ it’s jaws! ” izzie exclaimed suddenly, as he brought up sharks and their sad tale. although the rays had always been izzie’s favourite, she felt a sort of kinship with the sharks. they were these big scary creatures, and yet all they really wanted was to be left alone. “ i blame jaws. i mean, sharks were already a pretty intimidating creature, but i swear the likes of jaws has done so much damage to them as a species. people go out and hunt them on boats just for fun, and they think they’re justified to do that because sharks are this killing machine. but they’re not! discovery channel too - shark week is the worst. that’s why i think being here is so important, ” they raised their hand to gesture to the aquarium space around them. “ i’ve had a lot of animal activists who tell me that we’re wrong for holding the animals here. and i think i agree that whales and dolphins shouldn’t be kept captive. but it’s so important that we have places like this to educate people, you know? to show them that while you should always be cautious around animals, the ocean isn’t such a big, scary place. ” out of breath, they came to the end of their rant, and then felt their face heat up. their fingers flew up to touch their neck. “ sorry - sorry. i just get really passionate about it. “

when he questioned about them about their ocean adventures, izzie ducked her head in embarrassment. “ well, no. ” they explained. after all their talks about the ocean being a wonderous and not-at-all scary place, it felt wrong to explain their reasoning behind their lack of boating experience. but miles was safe - a friend. “ it.. makes me anxious. being out at sea. so many things could go wrong. i would love to see the animals in the wild but… ” she trailed off, and then offered a shrug. “ you know. ” 

miles blinked, surprised enough by izzie’s outburst to glance over at her. he wasn’t exactly used to seeing them so fired up, their passion sensed loud and clear even by him. he listened to her, mindful to nod every so often so she knew he was paying attention, and when they at last fell silent he frowned. “you don’t have to apologize,” he said, almost confused as to why she felt the need to show contrition. “you clearly know what you’re talking about, and that’s respectable. not to mention - well, that you care,” he said a little awkwardly. he didn’t know a more eloquent way to put it, really. izzie clearly had deep affection for any and every sea creature, and he admired them for it. “you’re in the right job, as they say. and you’re right, that people should learn things here. not everything should be feared just because it’s unknown - and if it is, knowledge has a way of dispelling those fears.”

he cocked his head slightly, finding her answer a little curious; surely if she loved these creatures so much, it would follow that she loved the ocean, wouldn’t it? but their reasoning was logical, and once again he nodded. “right, yes - probably a bit safer on dry land. i’ve always wanted to go on a submarine voyage - and if i ever get the chance, i know now not to extend the invitation to you,” he said, smiling slightly and hoping that the comment would land as the successful joke he’d meant it to be. 

What ringtone my muse has set for yours: 

miles doesn’t do ringtones, but izzie does have a special vibration pattern assigned to their texts

What contact photo my muse has set for yours: 

he often brings his camera to the aquarium because the creatures are among his favorite subjects, and one day izzie...y’know....just happened to be in the shot....

(he didn’t do anything with the picture, of course, other than make it their contact photo)

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts: 

izzie’s enthusiasm is infectious, and her messages often make miles smile

How quickly my muse responds to your texts: 

i think it’s surprisingly quickly, usually within the hour if he’s not preoccupied reading or editing photos

How often our muses text: 

i’d say pretty often, maybe a few times a week - i’m sure izzie is usually the one to initiate an exchange, and miles is a little self-conscious about how formal he is in his texts, but he tries to keep up

How often our muses call: 

i think miles has probably initiated about five calls ever in his life - so, probably never

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: 

i don’t think it’d come up, but no, he wouldn’t!

Last text sent from my muse to yours:

@hollywiston

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

for the most part miles never has his phone set on anything but silent, but holly is one of a select few whose messages/calls he has on vibrate 

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

this picture - it’s probably at least a few years out of date by now, but it’s one of his favorites of her. maybe it was even the first birthday miles was able to attend after his sentence was up so it was extra special for him.

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

**this is his general opinion for everyone: i'm sure people expect him to be a total grammar snob and stickler for spelling, but he really doesn’t give too much of a flying leap. and unless your message contains nothing but emojis for him to riddle over like hieroglyphics, he doesn’t actually mind them either. 

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

surprisingly quickly. he figured out early on having a phone which vibration patterns like..best got his attention, and he uses those exclusively. he usually figures they’re time-sensitive, so he’ll do his best to reply in a timely fashion

How often our muses text:

i can’t imagine that often, seeing as they live together and miles is at red velvet most days. probably it’s usually more of a practical thing, asking one another to pick something up on the way home and miles asking slightly worrying, evasive questions about how up-do-date the bakery’s insurance is...

How often our muses call:

again it’s probably not often, and miles certainly isn’t the type of person to call ‘just because’. he sees calls as a practical nuisance more than anything. 

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

absolutely never, even if he does kinda hate them. with their father’s death and everyone’s various health issues, i imagine the wistons all have a fair amount of anxiety about missing calls for fear of missing something important, miles included. that said, i think phone calls do instill a sort of dread in him bc he’s always associated them with bad news. 

Last text sent from my muse to yours:

   they blinked up at him, empathetic curiosity painted across their features as he muttered under his breath. izzie wasn’t nosy. they didn’t often press for more information ── they themselves were a rather private person, and didn’t enjoy sharing past problems with other people. but she had gotten the inkling that miles and his sisters hadn’t exactly had it easy. the way violet fussed and worried over the lot of them said enough. drawing their hands up to their chest and curling their fingers around the top of the clipboard, they offered him a reassuring smile. “it’s good that you have each other for all of it, then,” she mused, before letting the topic fall to the wayside, drifting onto the next conversation.

“every morning,” they explained excitedly at miles question. it wasn’t like izzie to fill up the space with their words  ── they often preferred to let other people do that  ── but miles was such a good listener that they often found themselves babbling without even realizing it. “i don’t really have too, but it’s one of the coolest parts of my job. since i’m a the curator of the sharks exhibit, it’s kind of my responsibility to make sure that all of the fish inside are healthy and comfortable with each other. and i find that it’s easiest to do that when you’re in the tank with them  ── i know some people might think it’s really scary to be in the water with that many sharks, but some of them actually enjoy being pet! isn’t that so funny?” as they spoke, their head swiveled on their neck, as if the excitement they had in sharing that piece of their job wasn’t able to be contained in their tiny body.

“anyway, it is really like a whole different world down there. i imagine it’s probably even cooler in the real ocean but,” they shrugged one shoulder, “i’ve never been diving, so.” 

miles felt the flush travel further down his neck when he felt izzie’s gaze on him, but he couldn’t say that it was an entirely unpleasant sensation. he focused on the walkway a few steps ahead of them as they made their trek, trying not to hold his breath as he anticipated follow-up questions or curious comments or - oh. well, then. his lips pulled upward slightly even before he stole a glance at them and saw their own smile, and he returned his gaze forward even as his own expression brightened still further as a result of it. “yeah,” was all he replied. “i’m glad of it, too.” 

he would never make the claim that conversation came easy to him, or that it was something he enjoyed, but those waters were somewhat murky where izzie was concerned. he found it soothing, listening to her talk about her position and everything it entailed, not to mention their great love of all things aquatic. he himself had always been fascinated by the ocean and everything it held, and his interest had only grown since meeting izzie. “yeah,” he agreed, still smiling slightly. “pretty funny. but - sharks have always been misunderstood, haven’t they? they don’t cause nearly as much destruction as they’re accused of, and yet they’ve been cast in the role of villain for so long that it seems the general population will never realize just how magnificent they are. it doesn’t quite seem fair, does it?” he observed, a more pensive expression now on his features and a slight frown pulling his lips downward. 

“no?” he said, surprised by the information. he would’ve thought they’d have all sorts of underwater adventures under their belt by this point. “do you have any plans to travel? to see all the oceans for yourself?”

.

Holly was tempted to have one more go at hanging up the fake webbing. She climbed back up on to her stool and tried a quick throwing motion. It didn’t work at all what with the material being so flimsy and light. It simply floated back down, landing neatly on her head. She exhaled a sigh, rolling her eyes just before Miles walked into the room. “Ah, brilliant, you’re here!” Climbing back down, she walked over to him, removing the fake web from her head before she held it up to him. “I wanna hang this up on that beam up there but I can’t reach. These little legs just don’t do the trick sadly.” She gestured down to her legs, which were covered in bright orange tights today. “You probably don’t need the ladders but I can go get them if you do? I don’t want you to fall whilst standing on a wobbly chair or something.” Holly neglected to tell him that was what she’d been doing. Safety for everyone else and slight rule-breaking for her. “Doesn’t matter too much if you can’t reach though, I’ll just have to find somewhere else to spook up!” 

&

miles furrowed his brow as he watched his elder sister pull filmy webbing from her hair, reaching out to pluck a fallen bit of faux silk from her shoulder himself. he followed her gaze to the beam she’d indicated, and as she went on he wordlessly took the decoration out of her hands before standing on his toes to toss it up in what - in his estimation at least - seemed to be an appropriately natural-looking formation. “like that?” he asked, looking back down at her with his eyebrows raised inquisitively, wondering if he’d been helpful. he looked all around the bakery, taking in every detail of the decorating she’d done before he’d arrived. “you’re sure there’s even anywhere left that you haven’t ‘spooked up’?”

@mileswiston​

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞  𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬.  Four  months  of  flute,  football  for  a  season,  dragon  books  for  a  year.​  Things  had  always  been  so  uncompromisingly  riveting  until  they  weren’t.  As  she  wriggled,  jumping  in  place  to  pull  the  costume  up  over  her  hips  her  back  collided  with  the  bathroom  door,  earning  a  grunt  of  frustration.  This  costume  was  the  amalgamation  of  a  years  worth  of  abandoned  fixations.  Her  papier-mâché  phase  that  had  briefly  bled  into  an  obscure  piñata  collection  that  culminated  in  a  horrific  near  indestructible  clown  head  that  she’d  made  for  the  kids  last  day  of  summer  vacation  that  ultimately  took  two  adults  with  hammers  to  crack  open  ––  after  a  good  half  hour  of  letting  the  kids  at  it  unrestrained  with  a  baseball  bat.  Her  sewing  craze  where  she’d  made  her  own  dresses  and  a  tote  bag  for  just  about  everyone  she’d  ever  met,  which  resulted  in  meters  of  unused  fabric  clogging  her  closet  after  the  thought  of  sewing  another  became  suddenly  as  entertaining  as  lodging  her  taxes.  Finally,  her  painting  period  which  ended  almost  as  abruptly  as  it  began  when  she  realised  it  was  not  a  talent  she  naturally  adopted  and  that  while  it  was  easy  to  think  of  elaborate  art,  it  wasn’t  easy  to  execute.  The  possum’s  face  was  the  closest  to  a  fulfilled  vision  Violet  had  ever  come  with  a  paint  brush.  But  it  felt  good  to  finally  burn  through  the  remnants  of  those  fleeting  era’s,  freeing  up  space  in  her  room  and  mind  as  she  put  the  materials  to  use  after  so  long  stagnant.  So  good  in  fact,  she’d  spent  accumulatively  nearly  sixty  hours  on  the  little  bastard.

“ Hold  on !  It’s  worth  it  I  promise !”  She  yelped  through  the  door,  struggling  as  she  twisted  her  torso  unnaturally,  trying  to  see  her  back  in  the  mirror  as  she  positioned  the  babies  along  her  spine  with  their  little  velcro  adapted  feet.  Despite  her  and  Colson  spending  the  last  two  years  trapped  in  a  fluctuating  separation,  they’d  worn  a  couples  costumes  as  recently  as  the  past  Halloween.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  disturbingly.  The  silliness  of  her  costume  now  felt  comforting,  knowing  it  would  have  horrified  him.  She  fastened  the  last  of  the  seven  possums  right  between  her  shoulder  blades,  smiling  to  herself  as  she  swung  the  tail  back  and  forth  in  the  mirror  clumsily.  Nights  spent  super  gluing  fur  to  her  fingers  began  to  feel  worth  it  now  the  absurdity  of  it  was  all  together,  though  she  was  certain  her  roommates  would  disagree.  Both  were  rather  disappointed  Violet  wouldn’t  be  joining  them  on  their  endeavours  to  make  out  with  as  many  Michael  Myers  as  possible.  She  slid  the  giant  head  over  her  own,  struggling  already  to  see  out  of  the  little  eye  holes  she’d  carved  in  it’s  mouth.

“ So ! ”  She  announced,  peeking  the  door  open  as  she  peered  the  disturbing  snout  through  the  crack  before  bursting  out  arms  wide  in  a  𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐀 !  fashion. She  craned  her  neck  right  back,  trying  to  look  up  at  his  face  without  the. head  sliding  and  blocking  her  view,  the  inconvenience  doing  nothing  to  dampen  her  excitement. “ What  do  you  think ? ”  She  asked  brightly.  “ Neat,  huh ? ”

&

it would surprise absolutely no one to learn that miles wasn’t a fan of halloween - at least, not the actual practice of the holiday. he would gladly read about its history and different cultural practices for hours, but the idea of putting on a sensory nightmare of a ridiculous outfit and drinking himself sick while also gorging on candy - he’d pass quite emphatically, thank you. instead, he’d be enjoying a quiet evening with the apartment to himself while his sisters went out and had - well, their brand of fun. 

and yet the evening currently found him listening to some rather unusual sounds coming from the bathroom his twin was using as a dressing room. he had been innocently detailing his camera lens when she’d rushed into the apartment, spouting excitable vi-isms about how he just had to see her costume. he had grunted something noncommittal in response, focused on a particularly stubborn spot, but as time had passed his interest had become piqued - what costume on earth could possibly be this involved? finally he heard her announcement and sensed movement out of the corner of his eye, and he was forced to do a double take when the first glance raised more questions than answers. he opened his mouth, closed it again. “it’s - well. i mean, it’s certainly lifelike,” he decreed, impressed with the amount of detail. “bit...different than your usual,” he ventured cautiously. “but it’s good. i certainly like it a lot better than last year’s,” he added, though this costume’s lack of a counterpart supplied by a terrible husband already boosted its standing by default. 

    the conversation shifted slightly, veering towards miles’ contentedness with his sisters, and izzie fell quiet, listening. their eyes shifted to look over at him, a soft smile still pressed against their delicate features. “that’s really nice. you guys seem close. especially you and vi.” she observed, letting their chin rest against the top of the clipboard that they almost always had in their arms when they were putzing around the aquarium. in a way, izzie was jealous; they didn’t have as sturdy of a relationship with their younger brothers that they wish they did. there was some kind of disconnect between what their brothers wanted and what she wanted, and it often ended in frustration for both parties. their heart ached for the kind of family dynamic that she saw in the twins, but it wasn’t a bitter sort of envy. and it was how it was. they couldn’t really change it. 

“i think i would prefer if i was a ray.” she laughed, her head falling back as she did. “when i’m in the tanks sometimes, i think about how nice it must be to spend all day swimming inside of them. i mean ── i’m sure the big ocean is probably far more exciting. but our animals have good lives, and it’s just so pretty underwater, you know? like you don’t have to worry about anything down there.” it was a wistful admission, one they didn’t realize had gotten away from them until they finished talking. flushing with embarrassment, they ducked their head down, studying the observation tanks as they walked by them. 

miles considered what izzie pointed out, reflecting on everything that had happened in his lives and those of his sisters’: the loss of their father; violet’s failed marriages; miles’ arrest and incarceration, not to mention his various health problems. “been through a lot together, i s’pose,” he muttered. he didn’t know how much she knew about the wiston family troubles, miles at least keeping them all locked safely away, and he didn’t want to know the extent of their knowledge. if they seemed to accept him as - well as a friend, then -

miles was most certainly not blushing as he recalled the term they’d used in the group chat the other day; no, it was just warm in here, that was all. well, he was warm, at least. but it was far from an unpleasant feeling. it was....well, it was nice. that he had a friend. never had one of those before, had he? not one he wasn’t related to, at any rate. yes, it was....it was nice. dare he even say, it was lovely. and he didn’t think he could ask for a better friend than kind, patient izzie. 

he looked at them when they made the admission, his gaze catching on her eyes and how they sparkled at the concept. eye contact had never been a strong suit of his, of course, but he enjoyed looking at them and admiring their features when their attention was elsewhere. he found a smile on his own face when he finally registered her words, thinking them so endearingly characteristic of her. “i know what you mean,” he said, as if to reassure them that he didn’t think the notion so fantastical as to be ridiculous. “it must seem like a whole new world down there. d’you ever get a chance to get in the tanks with them?”

October meant Halloween, which consequently meant that Holly had to deck out the bakery in all manner of spooky finery. She’d already filled two of the display cases with specially themed treats, and she’d ordered in various decorations to make the place feel as festive as possible. Pumpkins sat in the back kitchen, waiting to be hauled out front and arranged in an aesthetically pleasing, instagrammable way. She essentially just wanted to turn the whole bakery into a spooky Halloween grotto for everyone to enjoy. Her way of pushing any real life fears out of her mind. 

Miles was in the back somewhere, and as she precariously balanced on a chair to hang up some fake spider webs (health and safety be damned), Holly realised she was too short to reach her chosen beam. “Miles?” She called out, slowly lowering herself down from said perch before she fell and injured herself. “I need to borrow you when you’ve got a sec. It’s a spook-mergency!” @mileswiston·

miles uttered a quiet but triumphant sound as he finally managed to pry off the industrial mixer’s panel, setting it down carefully before he tried to peer at the wiring within. he frowned when he found the light lacking, and reached for the flashlight he knew he’d left nearby - and then a sudden ghostly wail was breaking the still silence. miles flinched back at the sudden noise, clutching a hand to his racing heart as he located the source of the noise. the animatronic ghoul was still moaning as if miles had disturbed its uneasy slumber, and the man closed his eyes as he finally caught his breath. he hadn’t always been so jumpy; certain events in the not-so-distant past had shredded miles’ nerves and served to make him exponentially more skittish than before. logically he knew that he and his family were safe now, and he wasn’t in the same situation to merit a similar course of events, but, well, logic and emotion - fear - were two different things, weren’t they? but it was fine. his family was fine, and so was he. and speaking of -

he looked over his shoulder when he heard his name being called, the sound of his older sister’s voice helping calm him even more. yes, it was fine. everything was quite all right. still, he had to clear his throat before calling out, “yeah, coming.” with one last look at the decoration, he set out to join holly in the main area of the shop. “all right, hols?” he asked, unable to help a quick scouring of the shop before he was satisfied that everything was all right and his gaze returned to her. “what did you need?”