ask-tyrone-and-eight said: ((Im gunna start a thing bc im a loser. Also i dont know the rp style anymore sighs loudly ill just)) Tyrone pounded on Chris' front door. "You better get your ass out here right fucking now! I will break down this door!" he shouted, his cheeks flushed. He was beyond pissed and wouldn't be surprised if he ended up hitting Chris a few times before the day was done.
There was an unidentifiable thump, then the sound of a little kid’s squeal, followed by a prompt shush and mixed whispers. After a bout of shuffling, there’s the sound of someone scuttling to the door. When the person speaks, it’s obviously Chris, but the harsh sound of the other’s yelling prompts his voice to shake more than it should.
"Ah, C-Chris isn’t home right now. Please leave a message after you’ve calmly walked away from the house. Thank you…?"
Shaun groaned in aggravation and sat up. “I’m still hard though. I’m just… Gunna go take care of that. That’s all those stupid pills do! They don’t even help me!!” He stood up, straightening out his shirt.
Tyrone smiled, carefully grabbing the picture to examine it. “Holy shit. This is pretty good, little dude! Is this your guys’ bedroom?”
Chris just nodded, not really looking at him anymore. If the pills really weren’t working, then why on earth did he take them? What was the point of that scene in the kitchen? It…it worried him. Although Shaun had definitely calmed down since then, Chris was still worried about him: but what was the point in worrying if he couldn’t do anything about it? So, he turned to him after a moment, smiling softly again.
"Whatever you need to do. I’m sorry about those pills: hope you can figure something out."
If Elliott had grinned sunnily before, then he could’ve solar powered the entire town with his smile. He nodded vigorously, still gripping his crayon tightly. The other twin was listening in, the red crayon joining the yellow crayon in his mouth.
Shaun glared at Chris, letting out a scoff. He nearly whispered from trying not to yell and alert Tyrone. “Don’t… Don’t be like that! You sound like you don’t even care.” He shook his head and walked out of his room. “Whatever. This is my fault.”
"I cleared a spot on the fridge to hang it up, if that’s already with you. You wanna hang it up yourself?" Tyrone held the picture back out to Elliott so he could go do so, meanwhile leaning over and pulling the crayons out of the other’s mouth. "Trust me these thighs don’t taste good and are not good for you."