United States

Bored Washingtonian who thinks 60 degrees is hot
An INTP-A / INTP-T apparently??
My response to how was your day will always be
I'm a meh person, what can i say

Message to Readers

Anything specific you want to happen with these characters? Cause all my ideas are really REALLY vague.

(I’ve succumbed, I’m sorry) NEXT UP ON REAGAN AND CASPIAN THE SERIES (why did that feel so nice)

Reagan and Caspian explore a domestic dorm life and Caspian gets mildly drunk off of some wine Reagan had stored under the sink. Caspian thinks he see’s something odd on Reagan *cough cough fangs cough cough* but clocks it up to being drunk. And they might buy a car in this part? They might go to a football game? Who knows. Oh, and Reagan gets another phone call. His dad is being pretty persistent...

The Reagan and Caspian Series: Part 3

February 18, 2021


   Caspian threw his tray down with a loud clang, Reagan jolting in his seat where he had his head layed on the table. 
   “That’s it,” Caspian said, almost fully serious. “We’re loners.”
   “Pardon?” Reagan responded, rubbing his face. The bags under his eyes stayed stubbornly present.
   “We. Are. Loners. We don’t talk to anyone, and all you do is sleep.”
   “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
   Reagan slowly sat up and leaned against the wall. Caspian had noticed that he always sat in the same spot, most likely to avoid any awkward social interactions. Reagan’s only friend seemed to be the walls. And Caspian, of course. 
   “It is,” Caspian fiddled with his spoon, “don’t you want to live that ‘college life’? Get out and… do drugs?”
   Reagan scowled, “That’s your idea of college life? ‘Get out and do drugs’? Sometimes, Caspian, I swear to god.”
   “Just saying.”
    There was a long stretch of silence as Caspian poked around his potatoes after offering Reagan his cheap organic brownie. How do you even make a healthy, organic brownie?
   “A point system,” Reagan finally said with his mouth full of the suspicious food.
   Caspain simply scrunched his eyebrows.
   “Every time we have a simple human interaction, we get points. The more difficult the interaction, the more points.”
   Caspian put down his fork. “Oh, yeah, okay. I can get behind that. So telling an old lady some directions would be like 5 points, and talking to your least favorite teacher alone would be 20.”
   Reagan stayed silent. 
   “What?” Caspian finally asked. 
   “Those are your ideas of awkward interactions? Odd kid.”
   Reagan got up from his safe space at the table, abandoning a frowning Caspian. 
   “See Reagan,” he heard, “this is why we don’t have any friends. I say odd things and you are brutally honest about… everything.”
   Reagan turned to find Caspian trailing after him. Caspian wasn’t wrong though. Maybe I have just been scaring everyone away… meh. Reagan couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Everything in his life had been hide, run, don’t be with people. Why would that change now? Why did it change now with Caspian? He found himself thinking. 
   “Alright,” Reagan stopped directly in the middle of the college courtyard, “let’s make some friends then.”
   Caspian frowned, “That sounds awfully final.”
   “Would you rather me say something else? ‘Let’s go force ourselves to socialize’?”
   Caspian raised an eyebrow, “Coming from the brutally honest one. I was expecting something more… grand.”
   “For christ’s sake,” Reagan mumbled. 
   The pair was apparently out to make friends. 
   Nothing about college was relatively easy for Caspian. Classes were owning him, his roommate was driving him crazy (I mean, did he have to put his hair up like that?), and money was tight. Which is why he was watching a redbox movie while eating microwavable dinosaur chicken nuggets. Not to even mention that it was a Friday night. Don’t college kids do fun things on Friday nights?
   Caspian had just kicked his feet onto the coffee table when Reagan walked out from his bedroom. 
   “Get your filthy limbs off my table,” he scolded. 
   Caspian ignored him in favor of popping another nugget into his mouth. 
   “Idiot,” Reagan mumbled while shoving Caspian’s feet off the surface. “You should get dressed.”
   Caspian screwed up his face, “What for?”
    “...I beg your pardon?”
   “We got invited to a party.”
   “Since when?”
   Reagan gestured vainly to the white board in the corner. After setting up a point system for their social interactions, they made a grid where they could display their numbers. Reagan’s was bumped up since Caspian’s had last checked. The explanation next to the extra 7 points read, “girl asked for my phone number in class so she could text me a party address. asked if I could invite a friend.”
   Caspian threw his hand over his heart in mock shock. “We’re friends?”
   Reagan rolled his eyes. “Just get ready.”
     “Ah, the classic red solo cups,” Reagan commented as Caspian passed him a drink. 
   “I would recommend dumping the contents of that ‘classic red solo cup’ in the nearest houseplant. Who knows what they spiked it with.” 
   Reagan was not impressed by the party. It was stereotypical college chaos and, by the looks of it, was already getting a little too rowdy. They pair of roommates wandered in a little late, pushing through the crowds of people to get to the backyard, getting handed drinks along the way.  
   “You say as if I was actually contemplating putting whatever this is,” Regan said, gesturing at the brown-ish liquid, “in my mouth. I have some standards you know.” 
   “That’s news to me,” Caspian responded absently, “You drink sludge with breakfast every morning, so I was under the impression that you’d drink anything you were handed.” 
   “Says the one who drinks leaf juice.” 
   “It’s called tea, Reagan. I really need to take you out in public more.” 
   “Hardy har, you antisocial hermit,” Reagan mocked a laugh as he poured the swirling liquid into a fake palm tree that sat by the door. Who even owns a fake palm tree? 
   Caspian had to practically be dragged out of the dorm by Reagan, complaining about how loud it would be, and if we’re both going we’ll get the same amount of points. Then why does it matter? So it was a surprise to Reagan when he turned to see Caspian take a hesitant sip from his cup.  
    “Hypocrite,” Reagan chuckled, raising his eyebrows as Caspian hacked into his elbow.  
    “I don’t know what that is,” Caspian managed, “but I don’t think it’s safe.” 
    “Nothing about this party is safe, shortstop.” 
    Reagan’s words were effectively punctuated by a drunk girl leaping off the roof and into the conveniently placed pool. It was the middle of September and the concrete was still wet from the rain that hit earlier, so most of the partygoers opted out of joining the spontaneous girl.  
   “Do you have your phone on you?” Caspian asked as they made their way to the backyard.  
   “No, I left it at home to cha-” 
   Reagan’s words were cut off as Caspian drove his shoulder into his stomach. Caspian was a solid foot shorter than Reagan, but it didn’t take much for Reagan to topple off balance. Reagan’s feet searched for purchase, finding only water beneath them. It was to be assumed that Reagan would be furious when he emerged from the water. But, as it happened, he came up with pure mischief in his eyes as he dragged his roommate after him. 
   Caspian had never shivered so much. He grew up in Arizona where anything below 70 was considered jacket weather, so being pushed in a pool at 40 degrees didn’t really help with his rocky transition into colder temps. The seat warmer in Reagan’s fancy car couldn’t even do anything to help. 
   “Sorry,” Caspian muttered for what had to be the hundredth time. “It was funny, but not exactly well thought out.”
   Reagan, who Caspian knew grew up in colder climates, wasn’t all too bothered by the seeping cold. He never really did care all that much about the heat, or lack thereof. Caspian would always ask him what he wanted their dorm to be at, temperature wise, and Reagan would always shrug, never complaining. 
   So being shoved into a pool? Caspian could tell that his roommate was hardly bothered. 
   “Guess my evil plan backfired then, huh?” Caspian managed, “Do I get extra points for embarrassing myself?”
   Reagan hummed. “No, I don’t think so. In fact, you should actually get some negative points for handling it so terribly. What was it that you said to the host again? Something like, ‘you should heat your pool more often you dumba**, and what was with the poisonous drinks? Don’t you have any decency?’”
   “I think you missed a few… suggestive words.”
   “Oh yeah, shortstop, I know. Now, you up for some pancakes?”
   Caspian blinked at the abrupt change in subject. 
   “Denny’s is coming up at this next exit and I’m starving. They’ll probably have good heating too. And some hot chocolate.”
   Caspian perked up at that. “Fine by me then.”
   Reagan’s phone rang right as Caspian stepped out of the car, clutching the hems of a dry hoodie Reagan found in the back of his car. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad it was one that had his last name on it. But Reagan let go of that thought process before it could even begin to take root. 
   Reagan ignored a whining Caspian in favor of answering his phone. He couldn’t just leave his father hanging. 
   “Hello?” Reagan answered. 
   “Reagan!” His father boomed back, uncharacteristically loud and upbeat. “You hangin in there, buddy?”
   “Yes, I’m alright. I would tell you if I was anything but. Is that all you’re calling to ask about?”
   “No, no. I was wondering how you’re doing with your hunger and all that. Things have got to be difficult with a roommate and all-”
   “My roommate’s fine,” Reagan quickly defended, “and so am I. So if that was all…”
   “Yeah, that was about it, Rea. I was wondering if you’d come visit some time though. Varcy wants you home. And I’d love to meet this roommate of yours.”
   “Varcy can wait, and so can you. I’ve got school, as does my roommate who’s currently freezing in a Denny’s parking lot. Is that all?”
   “Yeah, have a ni-”
   Reagan cut off his father’s farewell. 
“What was that about?” The freezing roommate in question asked. 
Reagan studied the blond man for a long moment before shaking his head. 
“It was nothing.”
It didn’t take a genius to know he was lying. 
This is a super choppy chapter, my apologies. Some was written in a crappy hotel, some more was written on an airplane next to a strange man who I didn’t know, and even more was written at my sister’s softball game. And this is being written at midnight in my bed as I desperately try to avoid the ever looming math class I have tomorrow. So cheers, I guess. Also, copy paste was yet again not my friend, so anything that looks truly wonky space wise is because I couldn’t be bothered to fix it. That and the lack of editing... you’re a god if you made it this far without dying. 


See History
  • February 18, 2021 - 1:40am (Now Viewing)

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  • anemoia by a thread

    wow ahh i love it and what a variety of places to write in

    about 1 month ago
  • Paisley Blue

    haha i love this so much!!! :D

    re: yes, i'd love to be notified!! thank you so much :))

    3 months ago
  • Quiet One

    I absolutely ADORE the innocent romantic gestures between Reagan and Caspian! Also, it's pretty impressive that you managed to write such a great chapter while travelling! Mine would've been a complete dumpster fire but you created a comedic yet sentimental piece. By the way I might have to steal your idea of the points system for social interactions ;)

    3 months ago
  • Halopoet

    It looks like you've been travelling. Well you know my thoughts, SWOOOOOOONING! And is reagan a vampire?!?!?! God this is goin brilliantly. And whats up with his dad? Cant wait for more!

    3 months ago