Tumgik
#well at least roach is
canisalbus · 13 days
Note
Maybe I'm looking too much into it but the way Machete is so tightly curled, as if trying to protect himself from the world compared to relaxed, stretched out Vasco
It shows their personality so well
.
239 notes · View notes
spielzeugkaiser · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
[MASTERPOST]
Eskel is like "I WILL read this book about... A wolf and all his friends? Dancing and being. happy... 🥺"
#the witcher netflix#geraskier lovechild#eskel#soft eskel#geraskier#(no jeskel I am sorry but honestly I can see it at times)#omegaverse#listen retrospectively Eskel will slap his face (repeatedly) because it is at times pretty obvious (but only if you know!!)#did Milek accidentally call Eskel 'daddy' a few times? ofc he did. (how should Eskel know that he didn't just mixed it up in excitement.)#'oh he clearly meant his omega father' WELL#Roach should have been an indicator! but it's either that that name is in one of jaskiers songs (probable) and jaskier is like#'oh yeah he likes that one bard song about the horse - I swear he loves horses'#(that isn't even a lie and it's very Jaskier to compose an ode for Roach)#or he just goes 'We heard stories about a witcher crossing our town-'#and now wolf themed kids book. it's-#oh well#a lot of things are obvious when you look back to them#and I think Eskel could have made the connection! if Jaskier still had a lute. he would have gone at least once '... geralts omega bard??'#(who Geralt didn't really talk about but who they always could still smell traces of on him - bad thing that scents change after pregnancy)#but no lute?? connection not made.#that's the one jaskier thing Eskel knows of. always has a lute.#and retrospectively he can see that Milek and Geralt really look alike - it's at this age more obvious than later - because that is the age#that Eskel remembers. In which he still has a mental picture of what Geralt looked like? but it's been SO LONG#over a century#and Eskel was a traumatized child too. Things are. Very muddy.#the only ones who have a chance to recognize Milek are Visenna and Vesemir and that's it.
1K notes · View notes
python333 · 8 months
Text
task force 141 reacting to [reader] having excessively watery eyes — python333
— — — —
synopsis just as the title says once again! tf141 and their reactions to [reader] having excessively watery eyes. if you want to get a bit more medical, the term for it would just be 'high tear drainage capacity'! it's basically just something some people have where they naturally just produce more tears and as a result their eyes water excessively at (as far as i know) random times!
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.
characters cap. john price, soap, ghost, gaz.
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], might be ooc. :{
note i was watching super 8 when i got this idea, because my eyes got watery all of a sudden while watching it and i was like 'omg i should post this on tumblr' because i'm a writing whore so here i am again. my fingers hurt from typing all the things in html to make the text small and shit but we still up!!
Tumblr media
JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE
➥ he thinks you’re crying at first.
➥ it’s not his fault! he had no idea your eyes just water up randomly.
➥ when he sees your eyes well up with tears, depending on how close y’all are, his fatherly instincts—which he, obviously, developed after meeting gaz—kick in immediately.
➥ “Are you okay, [c/n]?” “Why are you crying?” “Did something happen? What happened?” “... What do you mean?” “This is normal?”
➥ he’s kind of embarrassed for worrying so much after you reassure him that you were okay and that your eyes just excessively water, to be honest.
➥ he’s glad that you’re okay though, obviously.
➥ he never really gets used to seeing you tear up randomly? even though you told him it was normal?
➥ like he knows that 99% of the time you tear up it’s just because you do that, but he still likes to be sure that you’re okay, so he always makes sure to ask if you’re okay.
➥ he’s such!! a father!! i’m crying!! and it's not just my excessive eye watering!!
You both had just been hanging out in the recreation center, Price on the couch and you sitting on a chair right by that couch. You were scrolling through your phone, while Price was reading the newspaper—usual old man activities. While scrolling through your social media feed, you didn’t even notice the way tears started to well up in your eyes until your vision got blurry and you felt a small, wet trail of a single tear roll down your cheek.
You’d sighed and pulled a pocket-sized tissue pack out out your pocket, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at your eyes, ridding them of the tears. Of course, the tears didn’t just stop there, they kept coming, so you kept wiping and dabbing at your eyes, hoping that they would go away soon. This was a fairly regular occurrence— for you.
Price caught sight of this and immediately looked worried. He stared at you for a moment as you wiped your eyes, wondering if he should speak up, and eventually had tentatively asked, “Are you okay, [c/n]?”
You looked over at him and pulled the tissue away from your face for a moment, “Yeah, why?” Your voice didn’t sound strained or hoarse like Price had expected, seeing as you were practically crying.
“You’re crying,” Price had pointed out, pointing to your eyes as if you couldn’t notice it, “Did something happen?”
You sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and Price took your silence as hesitation to tell him what was going on. “You can tell me what’s going on, [c/n]. I won’t judge you,” He’d reassured you softly, setting down his book and putting all of his attention on you.
Oh God. “Nothing happened,” You’d quickly assured him, “This is normal, don’t worry about it.”
“... What do you mean, ‘this is normal’?” Price asked, now confused as well as concerned, “You cry often, mate?”
“I mean, kind of?” You had replied, before sighing and clarifying, “My eyes just water up a lot. It’s not really crying.”
“Oh,” Price said dumbly, before nodding and giving you one last concerned look, “Right, then. Uh… sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, going back to dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, while he reluctantly went back to his book.
JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH
➥ can’t mind his own business for the life of him.
➥ similar to price, he thinks you’re crying at first.
➥ but he doesn’t hesitate at all, the moment he sees you tearing up he’s like ‘woah what the fuck are you okay??’
➥ you have to firmly tell him that yes, you’re okay, you just have very watery eyes.
➥ he still offers to get you tissues and some water, worried by the amount of tears you’re producing, thinking you’re gonna get really dehydrated.
➥ makes sure you’re completely okay and that you’re not just making this all up to hide the fact that you’re actually crying.
➥ after that whole interaction, he doesn’t get as worried when your eyes randomly water up, and instead teases you about it.
➥ learns to know when you’re actually crying, just so that he can offer comfort when it’s appropriate, and tease you when it’s appropriate.
The two of you were hanging out in Ghost’s room, since his was cleaner than the both of your’s combined, and he was away on a mission. Soap laid down on Ghost’s bed while you were sitting on the edge of the same bed, the sheets and blankets wrinkled from you both moving around on the bed. Soap was scrolling through his phone while you sat opposite of him and read a book Price had recommended to you—in his usual old man pseudo-father fashion, he’d told you to spend less time on your phone and ‘read a damn book’—so you were doing just that.
It was when you’d just reached chapter six when your vision got blurry and you sighed, knowing what was happening already. It was just annoying, honestly, having to pull out your tissues every ten minutes because your stupid tear ducts couldn’t function properly. When you went to pull out the mini tissue pack you always carried with you—or so you thought—you were surprised to find that the familiar plastic rectangle of tissues were nowhere to be found in your pockets. You checked your back pockets, front pockets, and yet they weren’t in either.
You let out a small, frustrated sigh through your nose and got up from the bed, the movement making Soap look up and over at you.
“Hey, where are ye—blimey, are ye cryin’?” Soap questioned, his questioning tone quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright? It wasnae the book that made ye cry, aye?”
You looked back at Soap, sighing, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it, it’s normal, I just need to go get some tissues.”
“What dae ye mean this is normal?” Soap asked, sitting up. I just want to grab tissues, man, You think, miserably before short explanation that yes, you’re okay, no, you’re not crying, your eyes are just watery—basically the same answer you give every who eventually asks about your little ‘quirk’.
“Ye sure ye’re alright?” Soap asked, just making sure you’re actually okay, “Ye’re definitely no’ crying?”
“Definitely not crying,” You confirmed, “Just watery eyes.”
“Alright, then,” Soap breathed out, relieved that you were okay, before getting up and asking, “Dae ye need some tissues, water, anythin’?”
“Just tissues,” You answered, walking towards the door, “I can get them—”
“Nah, nah, ye stay richt there!” Soap quickly said, somehow getting to the door before you despite him having been right in front of the bed moments earlier, “I’ll get it!”
You watched him run out the door at a speed comparable to the usain bolt and stayed there for a moment, just staring at the now opened door, before huffing out a small laugh and heading back to the bed and sitting down.
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY
➥ he doesn’t notice until you’re wiping at your eyes and huffing in frustration when tears keep coming.
➥ the first time it happened, he didn’t ask if you were alright verbally, but did shoulder nudge you and gave you a look that asks ‘are you okay?’
➥ when you nodded and continued wiping at your eyes, ghost gave you one last look before trusting that you were okay and continuing on with his day.
➥ he pretended he didn’t care but thought about it for a bit afterwards, especially if you guys are really close.
➥ he asked price if you tearing up is just a normal thing or if you were actually crying, and let himself relax when he was told that yes, your eyes just water up randomly.
➥ he’s naturally a very observant person and will be able to tell when you’re actually crying fairly quickly.
➥ he’ll still look you over to make sure you’re okay, of course, just to double check, but once he’s confirmed that your eyes are just getting watery again he’ll let himself relax.
➥ depending on how close you both are, he’ll carry around a pack of tissues for you.
You and Ghost were in a helicopter, another mission successful. It wasn’t the worst one you’d had—but it was far from easy to accomplish. You were reasonably tired after this mission, all the leftover adrenaline wearing off, making you slump a bit in your seat.
You were just about to close your eyes to rest them, when suddenly you realized how blurry your vision had gotten. You were confused for a moment before realizing—oh, right, that happens.
You sighed, knowing you didn’t bring your usual pack of tissues with you, thinking it would just take up useless space in the pockets of your tactical gear. You wiped your eyes with the gloves you’d been wearing, albeit they weren’t the best option but the sleeves of your shirt were far too short for you to use, the hem of your shirt was dirty, and while your gloves were dirty as well, the back of them weren’t nearly as filthy as the hem of your shirt.
As you wiped away with the back of your glove, Ghost noticed your watery eyes and nudged your shoulder with his own. You paused and pulled your hand away from your eye, giving him a questioning look. He didn’t say anything, but instead gave you a questioning look back, a look you assumed to be one that asked, ‘are you okay?’, judging by the way his eyes darted to your own very watery ones. You nodded, mouthing the words ‘I’m okay’, and he nodded back, going back to staring ahead of him.
Hours after you had gotten off the helicopter, you were walking by Price’s office, and couldn’t help but hear Ghost’s voice. Being the nosy person you are, you cautiously pressed your ear to the door.
“—don’t worry, it’s normal,” You heard Price reassuring Ghost, “I doubt they’d cry after a mission like that, anyway.”
“And they’ve told you it’s normal?” Ghost asked, just to confirm, “You know this for a fact?”
You didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation, instead walking away and suppressing a smile at Ghost’s mildly worried tone.
KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK
➥ he notices pretty quickly.
➥ no matter how many times he’s caught you tearing up, he’ll still ask you if you’re okay.
➥ he makes sure to bring a clean handkerchief with him, just incase you forget your tissues.
➥ he’ll even bring it with him on missions, knowing you don’t want to bring your small pack of tissues with you.
➥ the first time he catches your eyes watering up, he gets pretty worried.
➥ he makes sure not to make a big deal out of it though, trying to be as considerate as possible, and instead quietly asks you if you’re okay.
➥ when you reassure him that you are and tell him your eyes are just naturally watery, he’s pretty relieved, and lets it go.
➥ he trusts that you told him the truth, and doesn’t question you again after that.
➥ around the fifth time it’d happened, he’d grown pretty used to it, so when you started tearing up walking back to the rendezvous point with him after a mission, he had a handkerchief ready for you.
You panted while you walked, trying to get your breathing under control. You’d done a lot of running today—while you were pretty fit, and could run perfectly fine, you didn’t particularly like running as fast as you can away from enemy soldiers while your teammates shot them down, leaving you praying that the bullets that tailed your feet didn’t hit you.
Eventually, you got your breath under control, but immediately afterwards, your eyes had started to water.
You sighed and were about to wipe at your eyes with your hands, before your hand was stopped mid air. You looked over at Gaz, who had caught your hand by the wrist and offered you a handkerchief with his free hand.
The handkerchief was fairly clean, and you grabbed it, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you did. Gaz smiled at you and gave you a simple pat on the shoulder.
Once the two of you reached the rendezvous point, you handed him back the handkerchief, hoping that your grateful smile was enough to express your full gratitude.
Tumblr media
334 notes · View notes
roughentumble · 5 months
Text
idea for a witcher/homestuck AU. ciri goes to fight the white frost and seemingly defeats it, but something isnt right about it, and for some reason at the center of it all she finds some sort of game with complex instructions right there. she kind of tells herself that it was leftover from some other traveler, who came to the center of all that is to destroy entropy and found themselves lacking, leaving behind only scraps of who they were. but it seems so pristine... could it really be that...? whatever it is, she feels oddly compelled to play it. perhaps as homage to a soul that was lost clutching a game and thinking of joyful times with their family.
(there is no stopping the white frost. entropy cannot be fought back. but how is she to know? when avallac'h told her otherwise? is it so wrong to dare to hope?)
the game is called something silly, like hmlet(like sburb but instead its. hamlet.)
everyone is already gathered, so when they all slink off to nurse their bruises, when theyre all still together, she brings out the game. eskel thinks its a bit grim. lambert thinks its grim, so he's completely behind it. they shuffle through the confusing rules as the first icy, frozen meteor falls far, far away, on the other side of a world that's yet to be fully circumnavigated.
my preliminary cast list idea looks something like:
1. yen (witch of time) (derse)
2. ciri (mage of space) (derse)
3. jaskier (rogue of breath) (prospit)
4. geralt (knight of blood) (prospit)
5. eskel
6. lambert
7. regis (?)
8. avallac'h
9. cerys (?)
10. letho (?)
11. triss
12. zoltan (?)
with question marks denoting placements that are the most up in the air, though i'd REALLY like to keep letho and zoltan on board. im never going to write this but i am going to have fun turning it over in my head and imagining these 12 as fun gods of a new world.
3 notes · View notes
ellilyre · 1 year
Text
Challenge of the day : find a fanfic in which Roach has an important role that INST to be Ghost's dead wife that he needs to finally grief in order to be fully happy in his relationship with Soap
! Warning ! Difficulty very hard !
11 notes · View notes
joziokowalski · 8 months
Text
sprayed some anti cockroach stuff in our corridor and i think i have actually poisoned myself. and my neighbour
2 notes · View notes
krafterwrites · 8 months
Text
What asshole got up in the middle of the night just to use bleach in the bathroom. They really woke up just to force me to inhale bleach and burn my nostrils no matter how much of my shirt I press up against my face, then immediately went back to bed
5 notes · View notes
love-fireflysong · 1 year
Text
Got back from my super fun concert last night where I got to see not one, not two, but FOUR bands live! Which also means that I came home with a fun amount of merch! ....For me at least, got one item from each band whereas I was watching other people leave with like i stg the entire shirt/sweater collection from their favourite bands fhdjdlsbd
Anyways, the bands that I got to see were:
Escape the Fate
Tumblr media
Hollywood Undead
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Falling in Reverse
Tumblr media
and Papa Roach
Tumblr media Tumblr media
God the night was so fun and my throat hurt from screaming for like 5 straight hours. Totally worth it and I'm so glad that I decided to go 🤘
#Not pictured are two cds i also bought#But those were just the newest albums for both papa roach and hollywood undead#And at $20 each thats a pretty normal price for a new album here so those dont even count as merch imo#As everyone can probably tell though i def went for cool designs on shirts over actual tour ones#Which means that the hollywood undead one is actually my least fav of the bunch lol#Both for saving the simplist design and the cheapest basic ass tshirt fabric they could have gotten#Like that shit is the basic ass gildan brand and i would know#Still gonna wear it though causd its not an umcomfortable shirt by any means its just doesnt feel as nice or soft#But god last night only got me more excited for may when i actually get to see disturbed!#Like for these four bands i only knew a handful of songs really well#And while i knew two of them fairly well#I was only tangentially familiar with the other two#But i know disturbed's entire discography by heart#But if im being honest this really just convinced me to go ahead and buy those tickets for metallica in august when i get paid next#Which im not even gonna buy for metalloca hilariously enough#Im gonna get them solely cause i *really* want to see their openers over them#Which for those curious are ice nine kills and five finger death punch#This does mean that my concerts for this year are up a full 300% than usual#Cause ignoring a small one i went to go and see just after easter last year#My last concerts where shania twain and keith urban like ten years ago when i still lived in saskatchewan fhdkdlxhdjd
3 notes · View notes
three--rings · 6 months
Text
One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.
It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.
I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.
But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.
We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)
And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.
Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.
The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.
In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.
And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.
But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.
That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.
Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.
Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.
So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.
But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.
5K notes · View notes
cherubfae · 2 months
Text
you're accidentally shrunk! || hazbin x reader
with Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Angel Dust, Vox
tags: fluff, comedy, established relationships, gn!reader (implied masc reader for angel as always <3)
Tumblr media
Alastor
He is quite amused by the whole ordeal, if not a touch worried for your wellbeing. You're utterly tiny, capable of sitting in the palm of his hand like a tiny doll. His claw gently nudges your cheek, tilting your chin up. Using his own magic proves to be futile. After several attempts he's still unable to change you back to your normal self. He isn't sure why his powers don't seem to be taking effect.
Alastor doesn't let anyone else touch or hold you. Legit will hold you in his hand above his head should Vaggie or Charlie try to get a better look at you.
"No, no, no," Alastor clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable in letting my dearest love be held by anyone but me. Surely, you understand." He gives you a little smile, his thumb gently stroking your head.
You aren't a little toy and the last thing he wants happening if Niffty mistaking you for a roach, so he prefers to have you sitting atop his shoulder, his head, or safely tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat with your tiny little head poking out to watch the world around you. As much as he finds you adorable and vulnerable in this state, he does prefer you as yourself. He'll probably head to Rosie first, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer. She always has her ear to the ground and he's certain he'll get you returned to normal soon.
Lucifer
Well, that's new. Lucifer is easily able to turn you back to yourself but he wants to have a little fun first. He lifts you up and presses little kisses all over your face, giggling to himself when you press your hands to his rosy cheeks.
"Can't help it, sweetheart! You're too cute!" He gently nuzzles your cheek, placing a loving kiss to the top of your head. He'll shapeshift himself into a mouse and pretend that you're a little fairy about to battle for Narnia.
When he turns you back, he is relieved. He much prefers you as your lovely self where you're able to snuggle into his side and hold you properly to his chest, sharing many kisses between you two.
Husk
Shit, this ain't good, but at least yer havin' fun, baby. Husk sighs, leaning his chin against his paws. His yellow eyes flick back and forth in amusement as you treat the bar counter like your own slip-and-slide, watching as you spin around on the shiny wood with a small squeak.
Husk catches you with his tail before you can slide off, lightly placing you back on your feet mirroring the grin you give him. "I'm glad you're having a good time but we gotta figure out how to turn ya back, hun." He leans back against the stool, hoping Charlie has found something or someone who may be able to offer some help.
Charlie, on queue, comes rushing down the stairs holding a light pink pearlescent vial in her hands. "Let's try this!" She stands triumphantly, proudly holding out the vial in her hands. "A drop or two on their head should bring them back to normal height. I have a feeling this will work, but as Plan B we can go to my Dad!" She beams.
Husk nods, giving you a tiny peck on top of your head that only serves to make Charlie coo. Placing you on the floor, Charlie uncaps the vial. A shimmery fuschia-purple liquid smelling of sweet berries oozes out and gently drops onto your head.
A whoosh of pink and yellow unfurls out and soon you're standing before them as mostly yourself. Your hair is now a dyed vibrant pink. Across the room, Alastor who is casually reading the newspaper, snaps his fingers and poof! Your hair is back to normal!
"You could've helped them this whole time?!" Husk hisses, fur bristling. Alastor hums, taking a sip of his black coffee, "Hmm no, just their hair. Good thing they're back in one piece, yes?" He grins. "Too bad you didn't play a little cat and mouse with them. That would have been a sight to behold!"
Angel Dust
As adorable as you are, Angel is fuckin panicking. He's not quite sure what to do and he's terrified of someone accidentally stepping on you. "Okay, baby, I've got ya, hang on!" Angel places you on his chest fluff, his hand holding you in place as he returns to his room.
Depending on how long this magic lasts, Angel will 100% want to play dress up with you and have you try on cute outfits or perhaps make a cute little dollhouse for you. He's too scared of crushing you in his sleep so until this wears off, he doesn't want to risk anything happening to you. He's also worried about Niffty mistaking you for a bug, so when he's out and about, he keeps you close to him at all times. If he has to leave and can't take you with, he instructs Vaggie and Charlie to look after you.
"Do not let Niffty or the Egg Bois around them, got it?" His stern eyes are narrowed, making an expression that he's watching Sir Pentious. "Keep the Eggies in line."
Vox
What the fuck? He blinks, a jolt of electricity nearly short-circuiting himself. Babe, what the fuck happened to you? Vox scoops you into his hands, holding you to his chest. He's doing his best not to panic, convinced this is another one of Alastor's stupid fucking pranks.
Thankfully whatever has happened wasn't permanent. A tiny explosion of sparkles and a poof blue dust has the futuristic demon stumbling back, sighing when you're standing there at your normal height with a hand pressed to your head.
"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Vox presses, grasping your hand and pulling you into his lap. He's cupping your face between clawed hands checking for any sign of injury. "Was it Alastor?" You shake your head, coughing out some blue sparkly dust.
"Nah, got caught under some pollen demon's magic on my way to HQ." You grumble, leaning your head onto your boyfriend's shoulder. Vox sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"Ok, ok, well, you're back," he grumbles. "Don't do that to me again."
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
krypticcafe · 1 year
Text
When you call them "babygirl" (COD:MWII)
rating: mature
characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Captain John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound
warning(s): language, a smidge of suggestivness
a/n: calling them bbygirls>>>>>calling them fictional crushes. also, my personal Roach hc is that he's a selective mute that took up ASL to communicate.
EDIT: there's now a reversal! What if you were called babygirl 👀
Gaz
His eyebrows raise almost impossibly high
"Did I hear that right or did you just..."
He's not upset, just... surprised.
Pleasantly surprised.
He doesn't mind it but man... it might've sparked something inside him. Might've.
You've given him nicknames before, both teasing and affectionate, but he never expected to be called that before. It's a new feeling.
You don't use it too much with him, but when you do, it gets the cutest laugh out of him. Gets him acting like he doesn't like it, but you know he absolutely does.
If you catch him off guard, he'll tilt his cap down and try to stifle a laugh to distract himself from how warm his face feels.
"Fuckin' hell, the things you do to me..."
You cheekily grin in response and give him those adoring eyes because you know that he knows you do it because you love him just that much to torment him :]
Now you only use it to amuse and tease him just to hear that golden laughter. You don't think you'll ever get tired of it.
Price
First time you said it, he nearly choked on his cigar.
"Sorry, what did you just say?"
He doesn't mean to be rude, it's just that you caught him so off guard. Give the poor man a break.
You repeat it to him and he chuckles, a little awkwardly because him? Babygirl? He can't see it, at least he doesn't see if he even has the qualities for such a title.
But oh, do you disagree. In fact, you start using it more, regardless of what he thinks.
If it's in front of the other task force members, it usually gets him to stop in his tracks and let out a knowing groan, shaking his head and trying to get the team to focus back on whatever they were doing before.
Which is extremely hard with how Gaz and Soap are trying to fight back their giggles.
When you're alone, he sighs but leans into your touch a little more.
He's actually amused by it and has even tried to give you something equally cheesy or teasing just to bite back at you.
It works.
He knows he's egging you on to use it more but truthfully?
He can't bring himself to get actually upset over it.
Soap
You decided to test his reaction on a whim one night at a visit to the pub after a successful mission, walking up behind him and greeting him.
You've never seen his head whip around so fast, and you wonder how he didn't snap his neck.
Oh and there it is.
The classic McTavish SmirkTM.
He's grinning so wide, leaning into your side and wrapping your arm around his waist.
"Would'ya mind repeatin' that, love?"
You're starting to regret this, seeing as he's enjoying it a little too much.
Then again... it could make this night a little more rewarding.
After that, he practically pushes you to use it more, says something about getting butterflies or how it "rolls off your tongue so well"
Either way, you don't mind it, seeing how it makes him happy and how he seems more obliged to listen to you.
And every time you do, he's always got that adoring glint in his eyes and an excited grin on his lips because fuck yeah,
He is your babygirl.
Ghost
He freezes so badly, the only movement being his shallow breathing.
To be honest, you were a b i t nervous to try, but you figured there was no harm in it with how far your relationship was.
But now you're starting to regret even trying, wondering if you've crossed a line or-
"Say it again."
Ohfuckohfuckohfuck-
You do as he says, and it gets a dry laugh out of him. He shakes his head and brings a hand to his forehead, mumbling about how stupid it is.
Except you don't miss that softened look in his eyes, the one weakness of his mask.
So you start rolling it out slowly and steadily, mostly in private because god knows he would strangle you for using it in public.
Much to his dismay, the 141 still overhears it thanks to you "teasing" him with it as a "joke".
Regardless, you don't mind limiting it to being used in private because you're the only one that knows and uses the fact that the Simon "Ghost" Riley secretly loves being called your babygirl.
Specifically in a soft or smooth way that gets him to just fucking melt on the spot. Even a simple, "How's my babygirl doing today?" in passing gets him all worked up at the idea of him being yours and yours only. It's even worse when you use it in bed.
So use it wisely!
König
He's looking around as if you're talking to someone else. Poor thing's all confused.
When he finally figures it out that it's him you're talking about, ohhh the way you wish you could take a peek under that hood.
The man's got his face buried in his hands, gripping and pulling the hood down on his face as if any inch of skin would further reveal how flustered he got.
Though you can already imagine it for yourself, his face burning brightly with his lips pressed tightly, causing all his stammering and sputtering.
Even worse, because of that, you add it to the list of various nicknames you have for him.
What you didn't expect is for him to adjust so well to it. At some point, he just sheepishly laughs and smiles whenever you use it, and of course, he's still a little shy about it,
But he starts leaning into it more, responding to it like he would any other name. Loves it like any other nickname when he just buries his face in your shoulder and cuddles you while you whisper reassurances to him.
Just be careful using it around the others, he'll implode if they find out.
Roach
What surprises you is how quickly he accepts it.
You had called out for him, and he just turned and responded with a signed "Yes?"
It kinda caught the both of you off guard.
He snickers and signs again, "Would you want me to call you something similar?"
You know where this is going, and before you can do anything, he starts calling you "hot stuff".
So now the two of you keep coming up with a bunch of corny, cheesy nicknames to sign to each other, some of which don't even make sense.
It's until that you call him it again he's like Soap in that he goes, "You know what? Yeah, I am your babygirl!"
Now he wears the name loud and proud. Almost too proudly. Pretty much the whole base knows it by now.
He got a goddamn name patch of it.
Occasionally, you'll get other 141 members commenting, "Looking for your babygirl?" or "Surprising that you don't have your babygirl with you today." with emphasis on the nickname.
So basically, what was supposed to be you teasing him was now him teasing you.
Hound
They first overheard you using it when you were conversing with some other force members, mostly talking about Hound and you. To many, it was a strangely unlikely relationship come true. He didn't think too much about it. You probably fumbled with your words.
Then he overheard it a second time. Then, a third. Then it came to a point where they just figured that it was now another term of endearment for them.
In all honesty, he's confused why you specifically like using that of all names, he simply can't see how such a cute, loving name could fit someone like him
You explain to them how it's kind of your way of showing them as yours, that they're your baby, and to you, they're one of the sweetest things to exist.
He melts at that.
So now when he hears it from you close or from afar, his head perks up, and he'll give a quick glance in your direction.
Sometimes, you use that fact just to get his attention, and he knows that, but he never minds when he gets to see you grinning so brightly.
6K notes · View notes
pinkslaystation · 28 days
Text
Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k
Tumblr media
Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
Tumblr media
A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
Tumblr media
The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
Tumblr media
It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
835 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 days
Note
Hello, I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for something pre-relationship with James. You could write in which the reader recently moved into a building/condominium and she needs help with something, like something that needs a specific tool or dealing with a spider and she asks her neighbor (James) for help? I think it would be something cute, like love at first sight. (I'm sorry if you don't want to write, but I saw a video like this and thought it would be cool to read something about it)
Thanks for requesting lovely!
neighbor!James x fem!reader ♡ 868 words
James almost doesn’t hear the knocking the first time. It’s hardly more than a couple of light taps, like someone might have bumped their bag into his door as they went by. Still, it gets his attention. James pauses in cutting up melon for tomorrow’s breakfast, head angling towards his front door. 
It comes again, a bit less tentative this time, and he sets down his knife, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before going to the door. 
You’re standing in the hall with your arms crossed tight against the nighttime chill that seeps into the building, wearing fuzzy slippers and what are quite clearly pajamas. You give him James a terse smile, looking somewhere between apologetic and panic-stricken. 
“Hi,” you say, at the same time as he says, “Hello.” 
Your smile blooms a bit more genuinely at that, and James is glad for it. You’re quite lovely when you look at him like that. It makes him wish he was wearing something other than his pajama bottoms or had brushed his teeth after his garlicky dinner. 
“Hi,” you say again. “Um, I’m really sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve just moved in next door and I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 
“Of course,” he agrees. No context needed. James prides himself on being neighborly, but he thinks he’d probably do just about anything you ask him to. “What is it?” 
“There’s a cockroach in my living room.” You deliver the news with a grave face, like his revoking his offer of help is predetermined. “I’ve been trying to put a cup over it for, like, twenty minutes probably, but it’s too fast and I can’t really corner it by myself.” 
“Ah.” James steps outside, closing his door behind him. “Alright, yeah, I’m sure we can take care of that. Lead the way, lovely.” 
You take a bolstering breath before stepping into your apartment, making him grin. It really is just right next to his, and this knowledge seems like a dangerous thing to have. James is going to have to start playing his music a tad lower and making sure he looks decent every time he goes outside. 
Just inside the door, there’s a broom propped against the wall. You take it up. 
“Okay,” you say, awfully serious for someone in fuzzy slippers wielding a broom, “I was thinking I’d get him into that corner there, and then you could put the cup over him.” You nod towards a cup turned facedown on the coffee table. James picks it up. Some of the determination slips from your expression, eyebrows twitching towards each other, as you look at him. “Sorry to drag you into this. I really appreciate it.” 
“It’s really fine,” James laughs. “This isn’t the first time someone has called me over to take care of a bug, and you live a lot closer than my mate did at the time.” In the period in between James and Sirius living together and Sirius moving in with Remus, his friend had forced James over to his flat at least twice a week so that he could trap spiders under cups while Sirius shrieked “Kill it! Kill it!” from atop his kitchen table. 
You grimace. “Well, it’s good to know you’ve had practice. Okay, last I saw him he was under the couch. Ready?” 
James nods, holding the cup in his hand. 
You sweep the broom tentatively underneath the couch, starting at one end at working your way to the other. Just when James is starting to come to terms with the idea that the roach has moved to an unknown location, it skitters out from that opposite end. 
You go after it with impressive grit, blocking its attempted escape underneath a nearby chair and herding it towards the corner. 
“Ready?” You don’t take your eyes from the bug for a second, but James nods anyways as he steps forward, cup held aloft. 
The roach runs into the corner, and James descends upon it. He lowers the cup quickly, not wanting the small creature to catch on and rebel against its eviction, but the thing moves quicker. 
It flies towards him. 
James makes a not-super-dignified yelping sound and trips backward, landing fortunately in the chair. You shriek and swat at it with the broom, missing by a meter. You both track the cockroach as it lands on a wall. 
“Fuck,” James breathes. He’s aware that he’s not making a great impression right now, but he feels like he’s just been attacked. “You didn’t tell me it was one of those flying ones!”
“I didn’t think it was!” You’re clutching the broom handle in a white-knuckled grip, your eyes wide. “It wasn’t doing that earlier!” 
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ve still got this. Just, ah, if you decide you’d like to abandon this, sleep at my place, and call pest control in the morning, I’m just saying right now that’d be more than alright with me.” 
You meet his eyes. “Think I’m gonna try a bit more first, but I might take you up on that. Thanks.” 
James grins. “No worries. Always good to have a backup plan.”
456 notes · View notes
romanarose · 1 month
Text
Scars
Tumblr media
Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x pale!fem!reader (see immersivity warnings)
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Summary: You and Joel are taking things slow, really slow. You find that he's easy to open up to about your depression, but you find it's hard to tell him the full extent.
Warnings: Talk of depression and self harm, self harm scars, descriptions of said scars (healed, not bleeding or recent) piv sex, oral f!recieving. Comfort sex. first time between couple, not loss of virginity.
Immersivity: Reader is fem, no specified age. This is a fic i started last year when i was doing very, very poorly and relapsing. I wanted to write something for myself. I usually really try to make things as inclusive as I can but the descriptions of scars are detailed and they are detailed to my skin, which is pale. I'm sorry, but I wanted to write this for myself. I support people writing fics specific to themselves, their skin tone, their hair type, their wieght etc, as long as it's labled right. @fandxmslxt69 said i could do it and said if anyone has a problem, come to her <3
***************
"And the scars remind us that the past is real" Scars, Papa Roach
Joel hadn’t minded when you said you wanted to take things slow. He didn’t mind one bit. Being a dad of a preteen , albeit an easy one, didn’t leave him with much opportunity to move fast. He was busy. In fact, he hadn’t really intended to date at all, at least until Sarah was in college if that… but you had sparkled your way into his life accidentally, and he was trying his best to balance it all. You were understanding, patient, you didn't get mad if he had to rearrange plans or cancel because something with Sarah or work came up, and he thought things were going well. You were beautiful, fun, and the few times you’d briefly met Sarah, she seemed to like you. That was a necessity. Joel absolutely refuses to date someone that made Sarah unhappy, but Sarah had made a few references to him and dating before he met you anyway, so she seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like he had a relationship with her mom, as much as Joel had tried to foster something… her mom hadn’t been interested.
Tommy was a lifesaver. When he noticed Joel had been struggling, Tommy sat him down and asked to help him. Tommy asked Joel. 
“You deserve a life.” Tommy had insisted.
“Sarah is my life.”
“Joel, you deserve m-”
“Don’t say I deserve more, Tommy. Sarah is enough. I don’t need more.”
Tommy sighed. “I know, brother, but can I at least help you out a bit? Give you a little free time to see that pretty girl of yours?”
Tommy had only met you once, but he liked you too. Joel acquiesced, letting Tommy take care of taking her to soccer practices (but he would NOT miss a game). This did end up being a big help and Joel had more and more time to see you… and when Tommy took Sarah out for a movie or she had plans with friends, he found more and more time alone in the evening with you.
Joel didn’t want to take his hands off your body the first time you and him made out on his couch, but when his hand went to feel up your breasts, you noticeably tensed. Fearing he overstepped, Joel quickly pulled back and apologized. Both of you nervous messes, it took a moment before you and Joel got full sentences out.
“Shit, I’m sorry-”
“No no it’s okay!”
“I just thought-”
“And I want too-!”
“No, I didn’t mean for anything tonight-”
“Oh, uh, right-”
“Not that I don’t want to!”
“Me too!”
Eventually, Joel clarified he was just enjoying feeling you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything ‘like that’, and you explained he can touch you like that, you just wanted to wait a little bit… You sat back, nervous, but figured now was as good a time as any. 
“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, if we could…” You shuffle on the couch.
Joel looks nervous, but open. He wants to know you, good and bad, and if something was bothering you, he wanted to know. “Of course, I’m all ears.”
You take a deep breath. “Do you know what depression is?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, I have an aunt with it but we don’t really talk about it much… Sometimes Sarah’s school sends her home with pamphlets… so I know a little, I guess.” That’s not what he was expecting.
“Well… I have it.”
“Oh.” He says again, dumbly. “I'm sorry. Or… am I not supposed to say that?”
You can’t help laughing a little. He was sweet, and he was trying. “It’s okay, Joel, and thank you. Well, about 6 months ago I started therapy and started taking an antidepressant, and things have been a lot better but… I need you to understand, things can get really dark for me sometimes and… it can be a lot for other people to deal with. I promise, it’s nothing dangerous to others!” You quickly add when you see his confused face. “It’s just, sometimes I’m not myself… and, if that’s not something you can handle, I want you to know that’s okay.”
Joel sat there for a moment, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what depression was… but in the South, it wasn’t like they talked about that sort of thing much. Still, he liked you… he liked you a lot, actually, and he wanted to be there to support you. He couldn’t just run away from difficult times, not when he had a preteen. It would mean he wasn’t fit to be there for Sarah…
“I wanna be there for you.” Joel assured you, to your growing smile. “I may not know how to, but I wanna try my best.”
You smile more, and scoot up next to him, in turn Joel lays an arm around you. “Thank you, Joel”
Still, you were nervous… because Joel hasn’t seen you without sleeves… nonetheless without clothes. 
*
In the end, it was almost 4 months before you had sex. Physically, you’d taken things slow, but emotionally you hadn’t at all. You were in love, and you’d both told each other as much. Tommy had given Joel shit for committing to a girlfriend without having sex, but Joel had told Tommy he could talk after he got an actual girlfriend, not hookups. Still, Tommy wanted to provide a good opportunity for Joel to fuck you the way Joel would want to. Sappy and romantic. So, when Sarah’s favorite band Halican Drops was coming to Housten, Tommy offered to pay for them to go and for a hotel. 
Joel had tried to protest, saying it was too expensive, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted Sarah that far away, and that he should just come, but Tommy smacked him on the head.
“Dumbass, I’m giving you a night with your girlfriend!”
When Tommy promised not to have a single drop of alcohol, text every hour, not let her stand by any men, call when they leave the venue and get to the hotel ETC, Joel allowed it to happen. Sarah was ECSTATIC, being the first concert she’d ever been to, and although a teeny bopper band wasn’t exactly on Tommy’s dream list, he was excited to be a cool uncle. Also, Joel needed to get laid. He was getting cranky at work.
The night itself was a lot of fun. Joel took you to a nice restaurant, and after you came back to his place and changed into more comfortable clothes, you’d spent the night watching American Idol. Joel was very critical.
As the night progressed, your nerves grew as you knew where the natural progression of the night would take you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck Joel; you really, really wanted to. And you weren’t nervous about him. You knew Joel would stop if you said stop. What you were nervous about was your body. Joel looked good, but he had a bit of a stomach himself so you didn’t think he’d be worried about your shape or small imperfections… Joel was a gentle soul, kind, loving. Yeah, that wasn’t the worry. The worry had been on your skin.
In the middle of winter, you’d managed to not show much skin around him, with jackets and long sleeves and pants… but it was inevitable. Joel had been a wonderful support to you these 4 months, holding your hand, listening to you when you cried. Slowly you opened up to him about the circumstances that meant you needed extra help, and he was everything you could ask for. 
But how would he react to this?
Joel had you laid out on the bed, both of you still dressed and his pajama covered pants grinding into your warm cunt. Joel sure liked to take his time. 
“We don’t gotta do noth’n, you know that right?” Joel muttered into your neck, drunk on you but still being respectful like the gentle man he was.
“I know”
He pulled back. “Then why’dya seem so nervous?”
You look up at him, wide eyed and nervous, but you needed this… you needed to tell him the truth. “Joel…”
He got off you, standing up at the edge of the bed. The massive, rock hard erection in his pants couldn’t have been comfortable, but his willingness to stop anyway meant a lot. It was a low bar but it was there.
“We can stop, I’m sorry-”
You sit up on your elbows. “It’s not you, it’s just um… I should tell you something before we start…”
“Okay.” He was few on words, but he looked receptive.
You weren’t sure how to do this, how to open up that conversation… so you decided just to show him. Lights still on, you begin to take off your shirt.
Joel tried to stop you. “Hey, hey, no, let’s talk.”
You smile at him. “We will, Joel, just… let me show you…” After the shirt was off, you slid off your pants and laid on the bed, spread out and close to naked in a bra and underwear.
“Jesus, darl’n…” Joel mumbled, taking in the sight before him. 
Scars littered your body.
It wasn’t a few, it was a lot, and the coverage was significant. Joel’s eyes roamed your body, cock softening quickly despite your near-nakedness and took in the expanse of the scaring. Your thighs were the most noticeable, pink slaves across your skin from the hips to mid-thigh. His hand reached out instinctively, but pulled back. You noticed.
Your voice was soft, reassuring. You knew he was confused and curious. “You can touch me, it’s okay.”
He does. Joel’s fingers a feather light across your skin, feeling the way the scars dipped and raised depending on severity. There there cuts, but also burn mark; small circles from cigarettes twisting up the patterns more. It was all over, reaching back to the curve of your ass. His eyes followed the trail up and the cuts became less in intensity and number, but never stopping over your hip bone and to your stomach. These were lighter; less that split open the skin but the silver lines were still raised over the belly fat as his fingers touched you. Your bra-line showed more burns, and he stopped short of the cloth. 
You take his hands and guide Joel to reach behind you to unclasp the bra, allowing him to pull it up and reveal your breasts. His eyes water as he sees the scars never stopped, marring your breasts, although not nearly the horrific amount on your thighs.
“I don’t understand…” He mumbles, sadness and distress clear in his eyes. “You did this to yourself?” Joel takes your hand in his, examining the scars making a ring around your wrist. He kissed the inside, eyes threatening to pool over.
You nod. “Yeah…”
His voice cracks. “But… why?”
“Sometimes…” You start, overcome with emotions at the clear pain on his face. He loved you so much, the thought of you in this much pain hurt him as well. “It was all I could do to cope.”
He didn’t seem like he understood, but he wasn’t judging you. He didn’t look at you like a freak like so many others did. He just knew he didn’t want you to feel this way again. 
“I havn’t done it in a while.” You give him a smile. “You make things easier. I mean, I’m still… yeah… but you do make things much better.” He did. Having someone who held you, listened to you, helped pick up the pieces… it wasn’t going to cure you, but it was amazing how much support helped with the addition of meds and therapy. 
Joel relaxed at that, a relieved and gentle smile on his face. “I’m glad, darl’n…” He held you hand to his face, chapped lips nuzzling against your damaged skin. “”M here to take care of you now, okay? I wanna help.”
“You do.” You assure him, pulling his face down to you again and taking his mouth in yours. “You mean so much to me Joel, you make me so happy…” His body covers yours once more, his warm encasing you as he protectively holds you.
“You’re safe with me.” Joel mutters against your mouth, fingers digging into your soft flesh.
You pull him closer to you, grinding yourself up against him, enticing him again. “Still want you tonight, please? I can’t wait any longer.” It’s had been a long 4 months and fuck, fuck you wanted him, badly. 
“Always gonna take care of you, princesa.” Joel grinds his jeans-clothed cock against the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shutter. “Gonna take care of my pretty girl, always.”
And god, did he.
Joel’s mouth was sloppy, wet, hot between your legs. His tongue fucked into your hole, prodding you open and his hips bucking against the bed. Insatiable. Arms locked around your legs, his nose nudged against your clit as it seemed he was trying push himself as strongly against your body as he could, to devour you, to bring you and him the most absolute pleasure he could.
You tug at his hair, soft waves in between your fingers as you draw him closer to you. Warmth pooling in your stomach, you felt that pressure grow with every moan, every vibration, every sluuuuuuuuuurp! of your juices, christ he was incredible. You felt elevated, devoted too and adorned in affection the way you had always wanted to be. He was everything in this moment. Joel’s tongue slid up in a swift swipe, mouth and that pouty lower lip latching onto your clit with his fingers pumped into you.
“JOEL! J-ohhhhhh” Your cry for his name melted into moans as you came on his mouth and fingers, crushing his head between thighs as your legs bent. The power of your orgasm caused you to tense and then melt into the bed. You give a low hum as he kisses your inner thighs. As you come to reality again, you register Joel’s sweet kisses all over your legs. He’s kissing the trail of your scars. Joel kisses over the scars on your right thigh and up the crease at your inner hip.
“What are you doing?” You mutter, never for a moment fully let go of his hair.
“Appreciating every inch of you.”
Joel kissed his way up your torso, over the scars under your tits and over the mounds. Latching onto your nipple, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin. You can feel him smile against your skin when your back arches off the bed.
“Fuck, Joel, your fucking mouth…” You whimper, and when his mouth lets go his hands never do. Softly, he touches you in all the scarred, squishy parts of you you were trained for so long to hate. 
He kissed you tenderly, gentle hands a contrast to his hungry mouth. That tongue, that goddamn tongue…
When he slides in, your eyes can’t help but roll back; your chest rises up against his broad expanse. He filled you so perfectly, fucking deep inside you and filling you up. You never felt so full. Your heart, your life, your stretched out cunt… every part of you was full and euphoric.
“My sweet, perfect girl…” Joel grunts as he pumps into you, hand braced against the headboard and towering over you. You gazed up at him, the yellow lighting of the ceiling fan created a halo around him. Joel looked positively angelic. 
Fitting, as he was your angel.
You were aware how he was perceived in his culésac. Joel was highly respected; kind, hard working if a bit disorganized. A good southern man who raised his brother and daughter well, helped the elderly neighbors, bailed his brother out of pinches and would use his truck to help anyone move. Yeah, people liked Joel. But they wouldn’t call him gentle, like how you feel his hands over your stomach. They wouldn’t call him soft like you felt his stomach against yours. They wouldn’t call him angelic, but that was all you could say as you came on his cock.
They certainly would not call him warm, but that was all you felt as you pulled out and sprayed ropes of cum on your stomach. 
You dozed off to sleep as he spread his cum around your scarred skin.
You vaguely register him cleaning you up, tired and content, and wait for him to join you again. His body felt perfect against your, fitting so well against your body like two puzzle pieces so close together. You had mumbled a request to be dressed, just in case Sarah and Tommy came home early, so you were both cuddled up in sweats under a thick blanket.
Everything with Joel felt safe and warm.
"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going" -David Rossi, Criminal Minds.
******************
So, there we are. I'm very frustrated by the new bought of scars that are quite noticable that I have to wait to fade again but I refuse to be ashamed the way I used to. My scars are just scars from my trauma and illness. It's a moral failing of the people who have and continue to harm me, not mine.
Thank you all for reading, this was quite a venerable piece for me but I see a light at te end of the tunnel, and things will be getting better, I know it <3
@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @yorksgirl
525 notes · View notes
mire1li · 2 months
Text
You tried to steal my daughter so I'm stealing your mother!
I have finally done it! This is Alastor's mother x Lucifer (Fem!Reader, as implied) Part 2!
Tumblr media
It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least… It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least…
You were with everyone, at the hotel. Though everyone, except a few people, seemed to be in their rooms today. Well, it seemed only natural since Al was in a ‘mood’ again.
Niffty, being the chaotic entity she is, was running around, stabbing bugs and roaches crawling around when Lucifer came by.
“It’s the ultimate bad boy!!!” She exclaimed running towards him, ignoring all the bugs left.
He had to fly up into the air to get away from her!
“Dad? What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, entering the lobby as she heard the… commotion.
“Charlie! Get this demon away from me!”
“We’re all demons here”
“Yes, but… she! She is a nightmare!”
You were in the corner, naturally, Alastor clinging to you. The two of you were simply watching everything unfold.
“Calm down, dad! It’s not like she bites”
“YET! Do you even see those teeth?”
“Al, could you…?” Charlie turned to the two of you, pointing at Niffty, bringing Lucifer’s attention to you, in the process.
Alastor scowled, or so you thought, as he kept that grin on his face.
“Not possible! Niffty is a free soul!”
“You literally own her soul!”
“I may own her soul but that doesn’t mean she gets no liberty!~”
“Please?”
Alastor hugged you tighter, you petting him, ignoring Charlie.
“Alastor, darling, could you do something about Niffty for me?” You intervened, looking at him.
“But Mother, Lucifer is more than capable of dealing with it himself!”
“You wouldn’t do it for me?”
“…Fine. Niffty step away from Lucifer.” He rolled his eyes as he said Lucifer’s name.
Fortunately enough, Niffty grumbled something and picked up her dagger, going back to killing roaches, very reluctantly.
Lucifer landed back on the ground and walked over to you and Al, pushing him off of you and hugging you instead.
“Hello, my dear! It has been so long!”
“Luci! It’s only been a few days”
“Mother, what do you mean ‘a few days’? I thought you haven’t seen him for at least a few months?”
“Oh, right… you- hm… yeah, I forgot to tell you, darling”
“Yes, that’s because she’s been sneaking out to see ME whilst you’re busy!~” Lucifer spoke, really only adding fuel to the fire… you could tell they’d probably be at each others throats if you didn’t, somehow… get them away from each other.
“Uhh… Dad!” Charlie frantically waved, getting in between them. A perfect distraction!
“Yes, Charlie?”
“I… uh… um… I need help with something!”
“What do you need… help… with?”
“Just… just something in the hotel! Right [Name]?!”
“Why are you bringing me into this?”
She looked at you pleadingly, her eyes slightly wide and an awkward smile on her face, lightly looking back and forth between the other two.
“Right! Yes, it’s an urgent matter! Charlie and Lucifer can go deal with that!”
“Yes! Let’s go, Dad!” She exclaimed, slightly jumping and grabbing Lucifer by the arm, dragging him into one of the many hotel corridors.
“Mother.”
“Yess… Alastor?”
“Why would you go out with him when you have me to entertain you!”
“Darling, we already spend lots of time together, and besides, I need to socialize with more than just one demon”
He was quite clearly not too happy about the whole situation but decided to drop it for the time being. You lightly poked his nose, one of his ears twitching at the action.
He was in a slightly better mood after that, having forgotten about Lucifer.
Meanwhile, Charlie was still in the process of trying to convince Lucifer that there was an issue… though she failed, and ultimately, he began heading back to the lobby, he wanted to flirt with you again, of course! What better activity for the King of Hell, himself, than to flirt with his rivals' mother?
Charlie, upon noticing him turning back, ran to the lobby, ahead of him, deciding that she’d try to pull Alastor away from you… though she knew her efforts would most likely prove futile considering how clingy he was to you today.
So she used force.
“Alastorrrr! I have shopping I need to do! Let’s go!”
Alastor seemed almost like a cat in that situation, Charlie pulling him away with all her might, and him trying to get back to you no matter the cost.
“Have a fun time!” You waved to them as she dragged him out the door and down to the main streets.
“What… was that all about?”
"Hm? Oh, Charlie just kidnapped Alastor, it's nothing too serious, he'll probably be back soon"
"With Charlie… right?"
"Probably" you shrugged as Lucifer looked at the door of the hotel, Charlie and Alastor nowhere in sight by now.
"Okayy… well… now that we're alone!~" Lucifer spoke, smugly walking towards you and placing an arm around your shoulder, smirking.
"Are you going to use another one of those absolutely terrible pick-up lines again?"
"You know it! Also, they are not that bad!"
"Oh they absolutely are"
"No, and I can prove it! I have thought of another one specifically for you!"
He chuckled and cleared his throat in preparation.
"Are you a rubber duck? Because I wanna make you squeal!~"
"My point stan-"
"Bow chika wowow!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his interruption, it was quite amusing how hard he tried to impress you sometimes, although it was also quite admirable, in some way.
"Are you-" Lucifer began, when Alastor appeared in between you two, forcing Lucifer off of you.
"I believe that is quite enough of that, haha!"
"What- ok. As I was saying" Lucifer grumbled, stepping to your other side, leaning his arm on your shoulder, getting closer to you once more.
"Hahaha! Mother, Charlie saw quite a wonderful necklace today, I think it would suit you perfectly! Why don't you and I go and get it?" Alastor took your hand and pulled you away from Lucifer, and towards the door.
"Now- now hold on, I was in the middle of something!" Naturally, Lucifer tried to stop the two of you, though to no avail, of course. Alastor simply ignored his attempts.
"Now, listen, Little Bird" Alastor began, turning to Lucifer and stood in a stance that seemed to mock him too.
"I need you to leave us alone so that I can spoil my Mother! You've already had far too much time with her!"
"Too much-?! I had barely ten minutes!"
"My point exactly! That is ten minutes far too long"
"Now hold on, did you call me 'little bird' earlier?!"
"Hmm… I might have"
"I am not a 'little bird'! Have you seen my wings?!"
"I beg to differ, I mean, just look at our height difference, I'd say you are quite little indeed"
"Height has no relevance in this conversation!"
"Oh yes it does!"
"No-"
"Now now, how about you two stop arguing for 5 minutes, at least"
"Unfortunately, I don't think that'll be possible, dear. Alastor and I simply clash too much"
"No, you're just annoying" Alastor replied, looking through building windows, trying to find where the necklace was, as you three had reached town by this point. This may as well be considered a family trip at this point, though Alastor would certainly despise that thought!
"Ah, there it is" he pulled you towards the store window and pointed out the necklace.
"Alastor, let's be nicer, alright?"
"I am plenty nice, Mother, so anyway, what do you think?" he motioned back at the necklace. You had to admit, there was a certain charm to it. The way it was made, made it seem as though it would suit you perfectly!
"I think you were right, it is quite a wonderful necklace. Now, darling, I'd like it if you were nice to Luci too!"
"Yes, I do have a good eye, don't I?" He chuckled, standing proudly as he looked back at Lucifer, who was standing behind the two of you, seemingly planning something.
"Begone, little bird, Mother and I have shopping to do" Alastor said, doing his creepy eye thing, but *just out of your sight as he knew you hated it quite a bit
"Wha- fine, but I will return, Alastor! You best prepare because your mother certainly will be mine!"
539 notes · View notes
a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
Text
can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD
Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"
Alastor: “Oh joy~”
Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."
Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"
Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"
Vaggie: "Ughh... no."
Niffty: "Aww."
Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"
Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"
Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"
Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."
Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”
Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"
Vaggie: "Yaaay."
Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."
Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."
Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"
Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"
Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."
Niffty: "Aww...."
Husk: "Is there a time limit."
Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"
Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"
Charlie: "Uhhhh-"
Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"
Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."
Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"
Niffty: "Sad..."
Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."
Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"
Husk: "What the fuck."
Angel Dust: "Yeesh."
Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"
Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"
Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"
Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)
Charlie: "What? What??"
Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."
Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."
Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"
Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."
Charlie: "Heh."
Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”
Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”
Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"
Husk: "Still living it."
Hotel Crew: "....."
Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."
Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."
Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"
Husk: "Shut the fuck up."
Vaggie: "Hey."
Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."
Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"
Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."
Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"
Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."
Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"
Charlie: "You mean-"
Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."
Charlie: "WHAT!?"
Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."
Charlie: "VAGGIE!"
Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"
Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."
Charlie: "I- that's not-"
Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"
Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"
Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."
Charlie: "Noooo...!"
Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."
Charlie: "H-WHA?"
Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."
Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"
Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"
Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."
Vaggie: "You're so pretty."
Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."
Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."
Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."
Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."
Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."
Husk: "Here it comes."
Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."
Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"
Alastor: "My feelings?"
Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"
Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."
Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)
Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"
Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."
Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."
Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."
Alastor: "Oh I do try."
Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"
Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"
Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."
Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."
Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."
Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"
Vaggie: "Every. Day."
Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."
Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."
Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"
Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"
Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"
Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)
Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."
Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"
Vaggie: "Probably...?"
Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."
Tumblr media
579 notes · View notes