PRE - ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME .

send a ♡ and i’ll fill this out for our muses !  i’ll bold what i want for their relationship, italic what i could see and strike out what i don’t . || accepting !

FRIENDS.   childhood friends  /  work friends  /  family friends  /  recently friends  /  turning antagonistic  /  turning into something romantic  /  stable  /  falling apart  /  friendship of need  /  friendship of circumstance  pen - pals or internet friends  /  coworkers  /  partners  /  other .

ROMANCE.   childhood sweethearts  /  newly entered  /  soulmates  /  skinny love  /  unrequited from my muses side  /  unrequited from your muses side  /  friends with benefits  /  awkward  /  fading  /  turning  toxic  /  toxic  and  destructive  /  other .

FAMILIAL BOND.   sibling bond  /  older sibling figure to your muse  /  younger sibling figure to your muse  /  parental figure to your muse  /  parental figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal  guardian  /  other .

With a tug on the side of his leg, Anaïs looks to him, held tilted to the side, eyes big and bright and shimmering between the fluttering of lashes. Silent, and yet what she is thinking— what the Aromatisse asks him— is clear as day. Whether it is serious in its entirety, or a joke at the expense of mild, moral panic, however, far more unclear.

Even her? He would pull the lever, even if was her who would perish?

Adam blinks for a long moment. He has, to his credit, gotten exceedingly good at reading the storybook horror owl's round eyes. He sighs for dramatic affect and gently scoops her up beneath her arms to cradle her against his chest, heedless of the feathers that would doubtless be stuck to his jacket in the aftermath.

"Ahh! Non, mon plus doux hibou." He coos gently. "In such a case I would simply stop the tram, no matter how I had to."

Part of him wondered if, like many of her ilk, she was asking that question in an attempt to inflict him with Horrors. The answer was very likely yes, but that was simply part of her charm.

"I would never let a single feather upon your head be harmed."

This is absolutely true and correct.

          "I hope he steps in a puddle,"

     Her tone is flat and low— murmurings that lace themselves with so much air that they might be the final wisps of her spirit dissipating into the air. Ones that catch in the fabric of Adam's sleeve as she lets her weight settle upon him, and as features hold themselves back from hiding herself among him entirely. The 'he' in question needing no introduction, no clarification. The venom behind it a weight, a history, that speaks louder than any fragment of his name could. That mayor.

          "I hope that every time he opens a push or pull door, he chooses the wrong option," A sigh pulls itself from her lips, and with an arm draping around his side, hand pooling against the surface of the couch, does Serena pull herself closer. "No— I hope his pockets get caught on every door handle he walks past."

Adam doesn’t pull away from her weight; instead he settles into it, like it’s something expected, something allowed. The fabric of his sleeve shifts faintly where her words seemed to cling, and he lets them stay there, unshaken. There’s a quiet recognition in him, an understanding that what she offers isn’t really about puddles or doors or petty inconveniences.

Still, a small crooked smile ghosts across his face, subtle enough that it barely disturbs the calm he keeps. He wraps his arm around her in turn, pulling her close.

"I do not know..." He says lightly, a hint of amusement threading through his voice, "The pockets might be too far. That is a public hazard. He could take out a whole coat rack on his way down."

His free fingers tap idly once against the couch near her arm, an absent rhythm, as if he’s thinking through the logistics of her curses with unnecessary seriousness.

"Though," He continues, tilting his head just a fraction toward her. "if we’re building a proper catalogue of suffering, I feel like we should stay consistent."

There’s a pause just long enough to let the playfulness breathe before he softens it again.

"Doors that never cooperate. Shoelaces that come undone at the worst possible moment. Perhaps sleeves that always slide down when he’s washing his hands."

The faintest exhale escapes him, closer to a real laugh this time, though it stays quiet, contained between them. His gaze lowers, not looking at her directly but aware of her all the same of the way she leans in and of the weight she trusts him to hold.

"I know it’s not really about any of that." He says after a moment, voice softer, stripped of most of its earlier teasing. "But I understand, mon âme."

There’s no push for explanation, no demand for more. Just that quiet acknowledgment, steady and unintrusive. Then almost as an afterthought the playfulness nudges back in.

"I care about you." {Xerneas astral projection jumpscare}

“………..”

“Okay, but like

KENNIE-SPECIFIC RELATIONSHIP MEME. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 › @iruludavare ( 🎉 - new friendship, 🏋 - work-out, 🧑‍🏫 - mentor figure )

oh jess this is veryyyy fun. i do like the idea of them working out together though i am very curious... wonder how different their gym routines look, or if they're more similar than i would think . look at me acting like i know anything about exercise ♡

i DID like your idea about serena showing kennie some moves... kennie has experience dancing just based on what she's learned from her family, both in pacifidlog and alola, and in bars/going out. it can never hurt to learn more :)

let's get together ... talk more ... i think these two together could be lots of fun

"let the authorities deal with it." {Said with the MOST sarcasm}

“HAH! Good one!”

Ree laughs, wiping a metaphorical tear from their eye as they lean back, grinning up at Serena. The Aipom on their head giggles, too — though she clearly doesn’t know why her master is so amused.