#redacted marie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlitangels · 5 months

Text

Thanksgiving with the Greers

I hereby dedicate this fic to @frenchiefitzhere and her versions of Marie and Colm and their relationship because I like Frenchie's version better than canon. This takes place years ago, btw 2.0k words

Also. I frickin' started writing this like back in spring or summer. Idk what was up with my brain that it took me until last Saturday to actually finish it

—

Asher jolted as his phone started ringing. He scooped it up.

Incoming Call… Little Man Syndrome™

“Hey Milo,” Asher greeted, holding the phone up to his ear. “What’s up?”

“What’re ya doin’ for dinner tonight?” Milo asked.

“Leftover pizza and wings. Why?”

Over the connection, a long string of expletives met Asher’s ears. But not from Milo.

“Ma—Ma—don’t blow your top just yet,” Milo said placatingly, voice distant from the mic. Before getting closer. “Ash. You realize what today is right?”

“Uh… Thursday?”

“Which Thursday?” Milo prompted.

“Well, hell, Greer. I don’t know.”

He heard the impact of Milo smacking himself in the forehead. “Oh for the love of—” Milo was cut off by Marie swearing again. “Ma! I got this!”

“You’d better 'got this' young man or Asher is never gonna hear the end of it from me!” Marie snapped.

“Ash,” Milo said, level but clearly irritated. “Today is Thanksgiving.”

“Ohhh! Is that why David invited me to go to his dad’s house with him for dinner?”

“Presumably. Why didn’t you go?”

“I don’t know I just thought it was Thursday!”

“Only you could be so time-blind to forget a holiday like this,” Milo muttered. “Look—”

“Asher Reed Talbot, you get your ass to this house in one hour, ya hear?” Marie interrupted.

Milo sighed. “Ma, I was gonna do it the polite way. Like a gentleman. Like you taught me.”

Marie’s voice softened immediately. “I know, baby,” she said. Asher heard her kiss Milo’s hair. “But sometimes a boy needs a mother to kick him in the pants in the right direction.”

Milo chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “Anyway, Ash. I’d ask if you’d care to join us for Thanksgiving dinner but I think that ship has sailed.”

Asher laughed. “I think you’re right. I’ll be over in an hour,” he said. “What’s the dress code?”

“I don’t care if you show up in your underwear so long as you’re here,” Marie said, still sharp with exasperation. “No son of mine—of my friends’—is eatin’ leftover pizza and wings alone on Thanksgivin’ if I have anything to say about it!”

“And clearly you do,” Colm’s quieter voice added even more distant from Milo’s phone.

“Hush, you,” Marie said, a smile in her voice. “One hour, Asher!”

“Yes ma’am!” Asher agreed. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Colm supplied.

“Okay. Will do.”

“Bye,” Milo said.

“See ya soon.” He hung up and put the pizza box back in the fridge. Setting his phone down on the counter in the apartment, he rushed to his room.

Thanksgiving dinner had always been a business casual dinner at his house. Probably because Madelyn and her mate flew home for it every other year and his parents wanted to make an event of it. This was the first Thanksgiving they weren’t going to be home for, traveling somewhere in… Korea or somewhere.

And knowing Marie…

“Khakis and a polo should be fine,” Asher decided.

—

“HA!” Milo barked the second Asher slipped through the front door—not bothering to knock. The Shaw and Greer houses were second homes to him. He never knocked if the door was unlocked. Which it usually was. “Someone’s overdressed!”

Asher turned to see Milo in jeans and a T-shirt with a cartoon turkey on it.

Marie thwacked Milo upside the head gently with the back of the mixing spoon in her hand. “Well how ‘boutchu go dress to match him, huh?”

Milo rubbed the back of his head. “Wait—you serious?”

Marie fixed him with a look only a mother could give. “Very,” she said.

Milo sighed. “Fine. I will.” He cast a sidelong glance at Ash. “And I’ll look even better’n you in it.”

Asher snorted. “You can try.”

Milo stomped toward the hallway, flipping the bird over his shoulder.

“Milo Anthony Greer!” Marie warned.

Milo’s hand dropped immediately. “Sorry, Ma!” He scampered off for his room.

Asher sheepishly approached Marie. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I know you said an hour and it’s been an hour and fifteen—”

“And I knew you’d be late which is why I said an hour when dinner was an hour and a half away from bein’ finished.”

Asher chuckled. “Do you know everything?”

Marie smiled and cupped Asher’s cheek in one hand—the one not holding the mixing spoon. “Just my boys,” she said with a wink. “Now get those rolls in the oven for me then get the hell out of my kitchen.”

“Yes ma’am.” Asher ducked around her to assist immediately, knowing better than to hesitate.

Colm was in the living room. A replay of the big parade in New York was going on the TV, but Colm wasn’t watching it. He was reading from a sheaf of papers on the coffee table.

Asher cleared his throat. “Look, uh, Marie,” he started quietly, heat burning at his neck and ears. “I just. I wanted to thank you. For thinking of me tonight. And for… y’know. Inviting me.” He closed the oven door and took the mitt off. But didn’t straighten to his full height. His shoulders were slouched forward and his eyes were cast down to the hardwood floor.

Marie gave him a warm smile. “Asher,” she said fondly. “You are always welcome here, you got that? Now, I don’t care if it’s Thanksgiving or a random Monday in the middle of May. You are family. And there will always be a place for you at our table.”

Asher blinked away a sudden salty sting in his eyes. “Thanks Marie,” he said, trying to swallow the thickness of his voice from the emotion in his chest. “I appreciate that.”

Marie turned back to the gravy she’d been making. From scratch. Of course. Marie Greer would never dream of any other kind of gravy disgracing her kitchen. “I’m happy for your parents. Gettin’ the chance to travel like they always talked and dreamed about. And I respect their decision to do it while they’re still young enough to withstand how exhaustin’ it is.” Her mouth narrowed into a frown. “But that doesn’t mean I approve of all-a it.” Her warm grey eyes—the same as Milo’s—flicked over to him. “They didn’t need t’ leave you here alone.”

Asher shrugged. "They thought I was old enough to live without them."

"Livin' without your parents doesn't mean ya don't still need their influence or advice." Her voice had gone hard with disapproval.

"Hey, that's what I have you for!" Asher joked brightly.

Marie leveled a Look™ at him. "You're damn right," she said seriously.

Colm covered a scoff by clearing his throat in the other room. Marie turned her Look™ briefly toward her mate before going back to her gravy.

Asher slunk carefully out of the kitchen, managing to only knock a mixing spoon onto the ground—that he quickly put back—and not mess up anything else.

Milo was stalking back into the living room, sour look on his face, having changed into a polo shirt and khakis himself.

It was, of course, Asher's job in life to give Milo a hard time. They were brothers in all but blood. But Asher admitted—silently, to himself, never out loud—that Milo definitely pulled off a polo and khakis better than he did. Milo was one of those lucky suckers who looked good in everything. Asher was tall and leanly muscled, but being tall sometimes made things look too short on him.

Milo didn't have that problem.

"Hey. Hey Milo," Asher started.

"What?" Milo retorted.

"You've got somethin' on your face."

Milo raised a single, sarcastic eyebrow. Waiting.

"Yeah. Y'know, I think it's called sour grapes."

"Oh you—" Milo moved as though to take a swing at Asher. Who ducked with a laugh and dodged out of the way.

—

Marie looked through the archway between the living room and the kitchen, watching her boys goof off and chase each other around like they had since they were little. She smiled to herself as she took the gravy off the heat and turned off the stove. A quick check through the oven window revealed the rolls were coming along.

As they kept baking, she started moving everything she'd made from the cookware she'd finished them in, to a pretty crystal serving dish. Then took them, two at a time, to the dining room table.

The clearing of a throat announced that Colm had gotten up from looking at his case files to help her. She smiled at him. He kissed the side of her head and took the two dishes from her hands, letting her grab two more.

After taking the two dishes, Colm set the table. After letting his mate choose the most festive tablecloth.

She got the rolls out of the oven right as the timer went off and quickly got them out of the pan and into a little basket with a white cloth lining it.

"A'right boys!" Marie announced, whipping her apron off after wiping her hands on it one last time. "Wash your hands and sit your asses down at the table."

Milo and Asher both froze from where Milo had managed to yank Asher down to his eye level and get him in a headlock. Marie met both of their eyes in turn, a stern look on her face. Milo cleared his throat and let go of Asher's neck. Both of them straightened their shirts and bustled—still poking and prodding at one another—into the kitchen to wash their hands. "Yes, Ma," Milo said automatically.

They knew better than to protest.

Marie and Colm sat on one side of the table. The boys sat on the other.

Milo leaned over to Asher. "We do the stuff we're thankful for before we eat," he whispered. Asher nodded.

"I'll start," Colm said. "I'm grateful, this year, for patience. The patience that my family has shown me." He reached under the table and gave Marie's leg a squeeze. She did her best not to react as his hand slipped a little higher up her leg before sliding off back to Colm's side.

She cleared her throat. "I'm grateful for my family," she said. "I'm grateful for a mate who loves me and works hard for us. I'm grateful for a pack that welcomed us as family all those years ago and never once acted otherwise. I'm grateful for an amazing, strong, brave son who has every right to be as confident as he is. And I'm grateful for all his friends who have become his family. Because they're my family. And I'm grateful that Ash could join us tonight, so he could be with family on Thanksgivin'."

She pretended not to notice Asher wiping a tear off on his sleeve.

"A'ight. My turn," Milo said. "Welp. This year... I guess I'm grateful for... everythin' I've been able to do. I learned a lot of lessons this year, and all-a 'em were important and valuable." He turned to Asher.

Who cleared his throat. "I, uh... I'm grateful for a lot of stuff. I'm really grateful for the pack that I got to be raised in. I'm grateful that David somehow has the patience to be my roommate. I'm grateful that I haven't burnt the apartment building down yet. And... I'm grateful for the Greer family. For being willing to accept me into your home on a holiday that's stressful enough as it is. Whether I wanted to come over or not." He smiled around a chuckle. "Thank you, for always making me feel welcome and at home." He swallowed. "Now can we please eat? I'm hungry!"

Colm and Milo both started laughing along with Asher. Marie just met his eyes with a loving look on her face. Sure, Ash was Frank and his mate's kid. But Ash was Marie's kid too. He certainly was now that the Talbots were traveling, but she'd loved him like a son since he and Milo had been close friends.

He gave her a grateful smile. She returned it.

"Go ahead an' dish up before it gets cold, boys," she said.

"Thank you," Milo said, reaching for the mashed potatoes.

—

General Shaw Pack and Characters Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @pinksparkl @darlin-collins @icedunderwaterroom

#redacted asmr #fic #Redacted Asher #Redacted Milo #Redacted Marie #Redacted Colm #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

151 notes · View notes

no-see-um-incorrect · 7 months

Text

Before the crew leaves for the summit

Marie: Milo Honey you look gorgeous

Milo: why thank you. I take after my Ma😉

#i’m gonna cry #that is pure mama Greer #redacted milo #redacted milo greer #redacted marie #redacted Marie Greer #redacted asmr #redacted audio #incorrect quotes #writing #redacted incorrect quotes #you know damn well he did not get his looks from his daddy

183 notes · View notes

darlin-collins · 7 months

Text

I like to hc that when marie n colm had bad arguments to the point where milo forgot his lunches, tank would give theirs saying "they packed extra", but they didn't, it was only their food

To hide that fact, they "argued" with asher and would time giving milo lunch perfectly before milo could ask to eat with them or about their food,ash n david show up, and darlin would leave before "they beat the shit outta him" (no they didn't argue with ash it was a lie they n ash made)

Marie went and thanked darlin's parents for packing extra, but they were confused bc they never did

Only marie knows that darlin gave milo their lunches every other day, and she could never re-pay thrm enough, so she just heals them whenever she sees the tinyest injury on them saying grumpling about how she "can't handle seeing injuries she knows she can get rid of"

Tried to tag mama frenchie but couldn't:(

#redacted asmr #redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted darlin #redacted tank #redacted milo #redacted marie

180 notes · View notes

slushiepizza · 11 days

Text

Marie and Mother Mary

Relationship : Marie & Milo Greer

Tags : Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Partum Depression, Gender Roles, Catholicism, Motherhood, Italian American Marie Greer

Word Count : 1,510

ao3

Notes and Warnings:

this fic kind of surprised me because I'm not super into the Shaw Pack. But I do find Marie Greer's presence and bits and pieces we know of her character fascinating. I wanted to explore Marie's mind and feelings about being a mother when she's dealing with a gambling husband; and for her to raise someone like Milo Greer- she must've done a great job as a parent.

I took inspiration from my own experiences growing up with Catholicism and specifically in relation to the biblical Mary as a religious figure; and how mothers often find comfort in the thought of a figure who related in their struggles of motherhood and womanhood. It also has a theme of gender roles/ alluding to rigid gender identities because of the circumstances that Marie grew up in.

This fic isn't really... religious per se, and it takes more of a neutral standing while still criticizing how religion could be used to provoke feelings of personal guilt and trauma in someone who grew up in it, while also giving comfort to anyone that needed the universe to say that everything will be okay. If any of the themes may cause distress in you, I do implore you not read this fic, as consuming writing is a vulnerable activity.

The year was 1993. Marie Greer walked into the empty church lot with her baby in her arms. It had been decades since she last stepped on its stone floors. The security guard stationed outside looked at her strangely, but let her in once she asserted that she was there to pray.

She passed the main building for a small garden in the back. There were rows of wooden benches but nobody to be found. Good. Marie didn’t want company at the moment. To call it a garden was an overstatement- it was tiny and cramped, overgrown with vines. In front of the benches, the centerpiece of all the foliage was a statue of the Virgin Mary. Mother Mary, she thought, the double entendre not escaping her.

As soon as she sat down right in front of the statue- Milo wailed inconsolably like he always did.

The baby’s loud cries echoed disturbing whatever peace that was left from the place. Marie sighed, tired and weary, of this. He was an especially sensitive child, smaller than other babies his age. Marie was used to catering to people who’d fuss over the littlest things, Colm had a particular affinity for order and cleanliness whenever he came back from blowing his month’s earnings in a night, after all. The addition of Milo to the family just added more on her plate- she had to catalog every single one of his many allergies, and make sure that the room was never dusty because he’d have a coughing fit otherwise. The replacement of their popcorned ceiling had not been cheap, either, not with Colm leaving barely anything left after his trips to Vegas.

She did this all for love. For him. For her husband. But oftentimes, she felt like there was nothing left of her to give. Dry. Hollow.

She shushed Milo and lightly rocked him in hopes that he’d calm down but to no avail. He thrashed and turned, his nails accidentally scratched her in the arm. Marie winced and tried to soothe him, lightly patting his back. It took thirty minutes of rocking and soothing Milo until the baby went back to sleep.

St. Mary’s weathered ivory-colored face looked down at her, her expression blank and unmoving. Her lips were sculpted into a serene smile. Her pupil-less eyes gazed back at Marie.

Just like any other Italian-American family at the time, church was a routine for Marie growing up. Her mother would dress them in their Sunday’s best and wrangled her and her seven unruly siblings into the building. “Quit fussin’ your pigtails, Marie. I did that real pretty for you,” she’d chide. They’d sit in the back of the church because tardiness ran in that family’s blood like a curse.

Past the twelfth and thirteenth pews, God felt distant.

Marie would follow everything diligently. She stood up when everyone else stood up as the priest lifted the circular white wafer, the body of Christ, above the altar. As a child, her height wouldn’t allow her to catch a single glimpse of it. She’d comfort her younger siblings whenever they’d make a ruckus. But the whole thing- it went one ear out of the other.

She could’ve sworn she tried her best to listen and followed whatever the adults did.

I have greatly sinned, escaped past her lips as she did the same thing she had now, rocking her baby sister in her arms. At the time, she hadn’t even lost her milk teeth.

She stopped going when she married Colm. He was the opposite of the man her mother wanted her to marry, and in retrospect, she felt that it was one of the many reasons she liked him. His mind was raucous, his eyes wild and unmoored. Like nothing was holding him back. Colm used to be an ambitious man- the thrill of being an Investigator for DUMP perfect for his unrested soul.

Marie loved that part of him, the fact that he’d question everything, unbelieving in anything unproven.

He said that he wanted to purge the world of assholes- the unjust, those who hurt others for their own sake. As he turned in empowered criminals in the pursuit of it, he became one himself.

Marie met St.Mary’s gaze- almost challenging her hollow stare. Something surged through her, from the ache in her back settling to her tight diaphragm.

After the birth of her boy, Mary couldn’t cook or clean. All she did was stay in bed. Her sister came by to help take care of the house while Colm stepped outside as usual. She said that it was normal, her body had been through hell, after all. But the heavy feeling, the heaviness that settled in her chest persisted for the next two months.

Marie hated feeling helpless- her house a mess, and her baby cried constantly. She was a woman of action, and stagnation shackled her, leaving her trapped. Her visit to the psychiatrist- and the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual- had told her that it was depression with a postpartum onset. She told the doctor that she refused to accept that she was a ‘bozo who was sick in the head’ and that she will cure herself with a margarita and a sorely needed hair perm alongside a fresh coat of manicure.

And look where that got her. Crying in front of a statue in church.

She still stared at the other Mary, the statue’s size and height caused her to look like she was looking down on whoever prayed in the confined space, guiding them iin a time of need. With that, for once, Marie realized that she was angry.

She wasn’t stuck to her mattress, fatigued, and lacked energy because of sorrow- she was so angry, the weight of her job description as wife, mother, woman, wolf, dog, bitch- Marie weighed down on her like anchors. She was angry, at the fact that Colm was nowhere to be found throughout all this, angry at her mother- for making her a mother to her own siblings when she was barely a child, angry at the fact that she couldn’t even love her child properly because she no longer had any love left in the hollow of her heart.

The emotions had clawed the insides of her ribs and caused her to let out heavy breaths- she was a dog panting for air when there was none.

“When does it get easier,” she demanded to the Mother of all Mothers through gritted teeth. “Tell me, Mary,” she begged, desperate, as tears started to roll down her face. “Tell me!”

“When does being a mother ever get any easier?”

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, as she started to sob and heave quietly.

A soft breeze blew past the branches of the trees that surrounded her. It moved the leaves and allowed them to move gently back and forth. The statue still looked down at her, hand slightly outstretched in a supposed kind, helpful gesture. Ants crawled from the crack in the marble, they moved past Mary’s dress down to the hem, circling around her exposed foot, past the head of the sneak that was crushed triumphantly under her toes.

Marie sank into her seat, tired. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, sniffling. Unbecoming of her, she thought. She’d rather die than let anyone see her like this. But there was a comfort between women, she supposed. Damage from rain stained Mary’s cheek like tears- not unlike the thick mascara that currently ran down her own. The air was comfortable, easy, and Marie felt light. It reminded her of the 80s. Of girls in the bathroom of the disco, talking someone out of calling their past lovers as they applied lipstick and passed cigarettes between one another.

“I guess,” she sniffed. “I guess you know better, right?” she stared into a picture that hung on a distant wall. In it, St. Mary cried as she held Jesus' dying body. “He didn’t give you a hell of a good time either,” her voice cracked pathetically.

Girl, tell me about it, Marie imagined the statue said. The Virgin Mary had the voice of her best friend in college. Is that not what being a mother is? The pain so bad, it feels like you’re splitting in two? Going through all seven hells for your baby’s sake?

“Why do we even put ourselves through this,” she chuckled sardonically. “If I wanted to go through pain, I’d rather just listen to Colm talk about whatever fish he caught on the weekend.”

Mary didn’t answer, and Marie understood. Milo opened his big eyes in her arms and reached up to her with tiny hands. He giggled, light and oblivious to the puffiness of Mary’s face and the swell of her eyes. She cooed at him and held up a finger. Milo wrapped his hand around it, gentle.

St. Mary’s serene smile was still plastered on her face, her hand outstretched in the air between them.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #marie greer #milo greer #redacted milo #redacted marie

55 notes · View notes

youthoughtiwasfeelinyou · 1 month

Text

Redacted Headcannons Shaw pack & Solaire Clan (again)

William’s maker forced him to turn the exact same way Alexis forced Sam, except William and his maker were in bed together when that happened

Angel works as a manager of some sorts to a modeling agency

Babe inherited their biological mother’s company after her death, so babe became the CEO of the company, but they eventually stepped down to be one of the executives/managers (idk) in the company instead

Alexis’s current favorite song is “vampire empire” by Big Thief

Lovely has 6 sisters

When Marie first was befriending William, she wanted him, he was just too perfect of a man, and super kind, I like to imagine she was in the first weeks of pregnancy and William was so kind to her and such a gentleman

Alexis did everything she could to get Marie to back off of William cause she knew Marie wanted him, and Marie eventually backed off after realizing that William will only see her as a friend and he will never love her or care for her the way he does for Alexis since she is his progeny and she’s more important

Amanda was in love with David, but extremely insecure at that time, so when David first brought Angel to a pack meeting to meet the fam, Amanda got extremely jealous to the point where she judged Angel really bad

Christian was in love with Darlin. He was always trying to reach out to them but Darlin was so estranged with the pack that they didn’t bother letting him close or even having a deep conversation with him at all. He never told them he loved them though and because of the way they were so guarded, he assumed it was rejection.

Amanda knew about Christian loving Darlin and always teased him about the rejections. Christian knew about Amanda loving David and when Angel came in the picture, he teased her back about how David loves someone else. Amanda would complain about Angel to Christian like this “what do they even look like” “I bet they must be beautiful” “ but they can’t be Mr/miss universe or something” and when she meets Angel : “ omg of course they’re blonde and pretty, ughhh what do I do now? How do I compete?” “I have to find something lacking in them so I can go warn David” “Christian, come, let’s stalk them for a bit to see what shady lies they might be making” and then Christian is like “wtf? How desperate are you? Like damn.” And that’s how they got closer and started fucking and started falling for each other while simultaneously healing each other, and the great results are that Amanda is no longer insecure.

Treasure is the eldest child

Lovely has never had a job, they always either lived under the care of their parents, ex-husband, and now Vincent

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted lovely #redacted vincent #redacted angel #redacted babe #redacted david #redacted william #redacted alexis #redacted headcanons #redacted darlin #redacted marie

77 notes · View notes

qhoaaaa · 1 month

Text

Milo who has a side hobby of photography,,, yalll

- Milo taking double wedding pictures after the ceremony (has WAYY too many of Sweetheart already in there 🤭)

- Milo loves to take pictures of nature a lot, has a few good ones framed in some parts of the house

- Milo who bites his lip to focus when taking a picture and takes it a little seriously (be ready for him rambling on and on about how everything needs to look right and THEN missing the shot)

- Milo who got the hobby as a kid, after seeing a photo-book that Colm made for Marie years back, it’s just filled with pictures of Marie and some vacations and such, mostly centered around Marie (hc that Marie and Colm are no longer together, but when they were, they were literal Milo and Sweetheart but previous generation until Colm started gambling and drinking)

- Milo considers the hobby “one of the good things I got from my dad… and those are very few..”

- Milo being the only one out of him, David and Ash who knows how to handle an actual camera properly

- Milo who, on a job, finds a good scene and wants to take a picture but doesn’t have his camera so he sneaks one with his phone and when he’s home, uses some editing software to edit it to how he wanted it in the moment

,,, brain rottinggggguhh

#swooning #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted shaw pack #redacted wolf boys #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted sam #redacted marie #redacted milo greer #redacted marie greer #redacted colm #redacted colm greer #qhoa has words #yay an actual post

49 notes · View notes

vinnys-girl · 9 months

Text

so mama Marie was just catsitting Aggro? i love her sm its crazy 😭😭 i can just imagine her just talking at Aggro in spanglish and Aggro, who is not taking any of it in, just watching her stir sauce on the stove and try to hold a conversation with a cat

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted marie #redacted sweetheart

159 notes · View notes

evsstolenhearts · 7 months

Text

MOTHERFUCKING BITCH

YOU ARE A TEENAGER IN THE SHAW PACK, BUT YOUR OFF IN COLLEGE, HERES SOME RANDOM SHIT YOUR GONNA EXPERIENCE:

David: him and angel invite you over when ever your back in Dahlia, to catch up. Asks if your eating okay, have money, ect. Weird dad vibe for some reason.

Asher: oh, hey, you fell asleep in your 8am lecture.... why the fuck does the person next to you sound like asher? Him and baabe go on a road trip and sneak onto your college campus. If you get an apartment they might show up at your door randomly.

Milo: you won't hear from him for 3 months until one day a black convertible pulls up outside your part-time job, this car is blasting "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga. In walks in the best dressed milo and sweetheart, here to mysteriously show up, buy shit, and not talk to you for ANOTHER 3 months.

Tank: blew up your college campus. Jk... probably. Them and Sam help you move in. Tank is yelling out orders, you are sitting on top of a pick up truck belonging to David yall definitely didn't hijack, sam is moving shit, Tank later helps him.

Marie: sends you cute care packages <333 food, snacks, toiletries, ect. Might also randomly send you Amazon packages of random shit ranging from: a cute plushie and new highlighters and pens during final, to a book abt world domination.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted david #redacted asher #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted milo #redacted tank #redacted teenagers #redacted marie

168 notes · View notes

teafairywithabook · 4 months

Text

How Redacted Characters Wrap Gifts Pt 2

Here's how I envision various Redacted bois would wrap their gifts...

Demons

Avior: So neat. Matching ribbon and gift tag. If he can't find a matching gift tag, there won't be one. He'll remember who it's for. Doesn't have huge amounts of patience for wrapping, so although he prefers to hand wrap, if it's a difficult shape, has no qualms at all about finger snapping the wrapping!

Regulus: He knows his precious human enjoys unwrapping gifts at this time of year. Unfortunately they're unavailable to do so at the moment. When they're in a better position, however, there's a lot - and I do mean a lot - of gifts waiting for them, hidden away. All perfectly wrapped as they deserve, in sparkly paper. Ready to make them smile as much as they make him smile. Eventually...

Camelopardalis: Uses seed paper. It's colourful and has wildflower seeds in so you can plant it. I nearly gave this one to Huxley, but this kind of felt like Cam would like it too.

Vega: Given that gifts aren't a human concept, he could be persuaded to give someone a token gift perhaps? If they needed something, like a human to feed on maybe. Wrapping might be a step too far.

EMPOWERED HUMANS

Elliott: Uses fabric! Brightly colored scarves, fabric squares, anything he thinks the reciever would enjoy.

Blake: Gets that cheap shit that tears the second you try and use it. Tapes over the holes badly. Pathetic.

Morgan: Tired of this shit already. Uses gift bags. So much easier!

James: Gives gift cards inside greetings cards, written really nicely in fountain pen.

UNEMPOWERED HUMANS

Geordi: Passable. Not quite as bad as Asher, but this is not really a skill Geordi has. Likes to use bio-degradable paper.

Guy: WRAPPING! Oh yes! Will absolutely try to find funny or offensive paper. Be warned. Probably as bad as the contents. Saw a YouTube Short about wrapping a gift in several layers of duct tape, zip ties, paper, staples, rubber bands and thought it was HYSTERICAL! Honey did not.

Aaron: Very civilised. Sits down with everything he needs, some music on and a drink, and spends a whole evening wrapping up in nice normal paper.

Marcus: Tells people he's "donating to a good cause this year" instead of giving gifts and cards. He's a lying sack of shit.

Ollie: Very careful, and you can generally see where he's peeled back the tape to re-stick it because he dropped the tape on the paper in the wrong place.

SPECIAL MENTIONS

Hush: Wasn't sure what was going on, but after Doc showed him and explained the whole thing, turned out to be really good at wrapping. Doc made him wrap all of theirs too.

Adam: He would roll the paper around the gift and roll the tape around it several times, but he can't, because he's FUCKING DEAD IN EVERY UNIVERSE.

Marie: You don't wrap Tupperware. She gives food. She's perfect like that.

Did I miss anyone? Want me to do someone? Let me know!

Happy holidays!

#redacted avior #redacted regulus #redacted camelopardalis #redacted vega #redacted elliott #redacted blake #redacted morgan #redacted james #redacted aaron #redacted ollie #Redacted Guy #redacted geordi #redacted hush #redacted adam #redacted marie #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redacted marcus

88 notes · View notes