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thanksbutno98 · 18 days ago

Text

Jail

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price ends up in jail after protecting a loved one.

Warnings: Sexual themes, violence, blood, fighting, not edited.

——————

“Date night, date night, date night.” You chanted over and over.

John was chuckling and following you close behind while puffing on a cigar. The way your ass moved in that little black dress made John very thankful for date night. You were two glasses of wine in and John knew another drink would mean he was getting lucky tonight, if he wasn’t already.

You wore a black fitted velvet dress that came to mid thigh. It was long sleeved and had a square neckline. You paired it with silver jewelry and your black red bottom heels. You knew your ass and tits looked amazing in this dress by the way John kept groping you every chance he had. Your hair was loosely pulled back and framed your face elegantly while you did natural makeup.

John dressed much simpler in his black slacks and white button down. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and top two buttons undone. John had on his silver watch and shiny black loafers. You thought he looked so handsome with his beared neatly trimmed and his fresh haircut. And he smelled nicer than he looked with his oaky cologne and beard oil.

Life had slowed down with your children out of the house besides your youngest daughter. Jj had just gotten home from his latest deployment while Evelyn was in medical school. Lily was just finishing up school and was accepted into a culinary program. John consistently made sweet comments that you were able to hold on to your figure when you had a daughter who baked so much. He on the other hand was combatting weight gain and breaking even some days due to Lily’s exquisite desserts. John wasn’t losing by much and held on to his muscular frame but had developed a softer stomach instead of his toned abs that were now hidden beneath the thin layer of fat.

Tonight you two decided since your youngest, Lily, was old enough to be home alone you’d go out. That meant dinner and drinks. Dinner was fantastic and John didn’t even look at the bill because you two definitely spent more than you should have. Now, you two were on your way to some swanky pub for drinks down the street.

Opening the door for you, you gave John a kiss while he grabbed a handful of your ass. After flicking his cigar to the ground he walked into the pub that seemed to be for a much younger demographic. There were some people your age who were enjoying themselves. The bar was upscale and had to be way too expensive for university students.

Walking in, the bar was located on the right side and stretched for about half way of the long room. The stool cushions were beige leather while the legs were a red wood that matched the shiny bar. The glass cabinets behind the bar were stocked with expensive alcohol with fairy lights twinkling behind them. To the left were half moon booths that stretched the same length of the room that the bar did. The upholstery matched the bar stools and the round tables were shiny red wood. In the back were more round tables with chairs filled with nicely dressed university students.

“How do kids this young afford a place like this.” You whispered to John as he lead you to the bar, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Mummy and daddy have fat wallets.” John joked sarcastically, then laid a kiss to your temple.

You knew John’s distain for spoiled rich kids. It truly rubbed him the wrong way to deal with anyone who had all their accomplishments handed to them. Before you could respond a familiar voice interrupted you two.

“Aren’t you two a little old to be out this late?” Your eldest daughter Evelyn smiled mischievously at you and John.

John’s entire demeanor changed seeing his eldest daughter. He went from the suave flirt he was when alone with you and shifted right back into being a father.

“Guess we’re the ones with fat wallets.” You joked, which had John chuckling.

Evelyn looked so much like you but as she grew into a young woman started to look like no one else but herself. She had her long brown hair pulled back into a white hair clip that allowed her full bangs to frame her face. As usual she wore a rosy Smokey eye with winged eyeliner and a soft pastel pink lipstick. She was dressed in black tights and a grey skirt that came just above mid thigh. Her faded green jumper was loose and showed off her white turtleneck underneath. It was paired nicely with the gold jewelry set she had been gifted by you and John when she started medical school. Your dad, Evelyn’s grandfather, liked to tell you both that you had that girl nextdoor kind of beauty that your mother had.

“Mum, you look right fit in that. Can I borrow it sometime?” Evelyn admired your dress and was gaping like a trout at how good you looked.

She was accustom to seeing you barefoot, in leggings and t-shirts with your hair tied back and a broom in one hand. You took keeping the house clean seriously and the hard work that went into that left you wanting to be comfortable in how you dressed. Evelyn admired that about you because she struggled to keep her one room flat clean and she didn’t know how you managed the entire house with only the help of her father and Lily. You use to get the whole family to help clean and it only took a couple of hours. Now with two men down it had to take a full day.

“You think?” You looked down at the outfit you were once self conscious about and blushed at the compliment.

“Yeah! God, hope I age like you. Bet no one here would guess you’re my mum, more like sister. A Jennifer Aniston, Ava Mendes, Halle Berry, Michelle Yeoh, kind of aging-so jealous!” Evelyn continued, making you giggle lightly at all the compliments. You knew she meant it too because she wasn’t usually a kiss ass to you.

“Oh stop it-“ Evelyn cut in before you could swat her compliments away.

“Sandra Bullock! She’s also aging phenomenally.” The fact Evelyn was now going on about celebrities she thought were aging beautifully was having you cackling laughing.

“Jamie Lee Curtis.” You added.

“Viola Davis!” She half shouted.

“Salma Hayek.” John said while wagging his eyebrows and appreciated the approving nods he received from you and Evelyn.

Evelyn and you continued to name beautiful actresses that you thought were aging like fine wine. It wasn’t lost on you that the actresses John named were some of the sexiest women alive. That was until your daughter brought her attention to John and gave him a judgmental look. You thought she was about to tear him down because of the actresses he was choosing to name. She could be protective when her father was being insensitive.

“And then there’s you, dad. Dressed like a store mannequin. . . Lucky man, with mum being so hot. If you two were single you’d never be able to score her now. Still don’t know how you did in the first place.” She continued and gave John’s outfit a once over and seemed to be unimpressed.

“How about you play nice and I’ll pay for you and your friend’s drinks.” John gave her a hug that she returned.

“No, they’re all a bunch of rich pricks. Just pay for mine and Archie’s.” With a big cheesy smile Evelyn moved to hug you while John nodded with a chuckle and flagged down the bartender.

“I’ll have a pear martini-“ You paused and looked to John.

“Whiskey, neat. Keep it open and put whatever she gets on my tab.” John nodded toward Evelyn and handed over his credit card. He then scanned the room until he saw Archie chatting with a group of friends.

Archie had grown into a handsome young man. No longer that scrawny little boy, Archie stood a little taller than John. Archie left behind the dorky attitude and haircut. It was swapped for a smart looking cropped cut and quiet confidence. He had also made it a habit to hit the gym so he was no longer all limbs but now had an athletic build to him. The two things that never changed were his freckles and thick rimmed rectangular glasses he’d always worn. The lenses were so thick it made it obvious he was blind as a bat without them.

“And him.” John pointed to the unsuspecting young man that remained his daughter’s best friend after all these years.

“He’s paying for some girls-“

“I’ll take care of it.” With that the bartender went on his way to make your drinks.

John had no reservation paying for Archie’s drinks and whichever young lady he was attempting to court. John saw Archie like a son and often gave him the fatherly advice Archie craved. It truly felt at times that you had four children instead of three. This had helped you and John make peace with never having a fourth child like you wanted. Because Archie was enough and fit in with you all seamlessly.

“So how’s studying.” You asked Evelyn who was happy to ignore her friends to chat with you.

Evelyn could become so immersed in her life that she would forget to check in or stop by. She was a person who gave herself to whatever life she was living. When at home, school seemed to be a distant thought and when at school or with friends, it was easy for her to forget about family.

“I would be studying now, if Archie hadn’t dragged me out to have fun.” With a shrug Evelyn took a sip of her mysterious dark drink.

The ice clinked against the glass as she brought it to her lips and took the smallest sip. After a moment you realized it was a dark and stormy and smiled how her alcoholic preferences had improved. She use to drink sweet wines that would leave most feeling sick the next day.

“Drinking that slow, I assume you want to study when you get back?” You asked which had her nodding as if she’d been caught doing something naughty.

It made you think back to when she was little and would give you that same charmingly sweet look. You were the same way at this age, putting your studies above all else; including fun. It made you happy you met John after you were established in your career or you might not have given him the time of day.

“Don’t tell Archie. He’s been on my case about ‘enjoying my twenties.’” Evelyn mocked Archie’s voice and used air quotes.

“You’ve turned out just like your mum.” John chuckled.

“Good, means I’m smart. Now I just have to figure out where I’ll be doing my special training. Archie’s already figured that out so I need to catch up.” Evelyn sighed heavily.

She never liked when someone else had things figured out before her. It was seen as the beginning stages of failure which she refused to ever let happen. Failing was not an option and much like John, Evelyn would fight tooth and nail for the things she wanted. You on the other hand made everything look easy and Evelyn was convinced you never once struggled academically.

“Could I buy you a drink?” A young man a few years older than your daughter approached the group.

He was tall, dark, and handsome. Dressed in dark blue jeans, a burnt orange sweater with a collard shirt underneath. You looked at Evelyn to see how she was about to handle being hit on. Wagging your eyebrows at her to signal the boy was cute. John on the other hand was unamused.

“I’m not interested, but-“

“Oh sorry, love. I was talking to-“ The man motioned to you.

Evelyn scoffed while you laughed audibly in this strangers face and then clamped your hand over your mouth for being so rude. Your reaction looked as if you shoved him with how he physically leaned away. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get hit on by men your own age when out like this but someone close to your son’s age was rare.

“Piss off.” John started to deeply chuckle until he was full on laughing at this man who couldn’t be any older than Jj.

“Sorry-“

“Oh my god! Don’t hit on my mum!” Evelyn loudly exclaimed making people around look over at you.

The man quickly ducked his head and walked away clearly embarrassed. Evelyn was now laughing because she had only done that to embarrass the man.

“That was-“ you spaced out for a second at how utterly ridiculous you found that. It was flattering but still, you would prefer things like that to not happen.

“Look who’s still got it! You’re a lucky man dad.” Evelyn hyped you up.

The three of you carried on and chatted about Evelyn’s studies and when she would come home next. Finding out Jj was coming home tomorrow was enough for Evelyn to agree to come back with you and John after this drink. Then you would take her to her flat and she’d pack a bag and stay the night.

“What are you drinking?” Another stranger came up but this time it was clear he was approaching Evelyn.

He was closer to John’s age which threw you off and immediately had John on guard. The middle aged man was slightly shorter than your husband. He had shaggy black hair that was greying and stubble across his chiseled face. You thought he almost looked like John Snow with how good looking he was.

“I’m not interested. Thanks though.” Evelyn barely looked his way and continued to talk to you about Lily.

“Oh c’mon it’s one drink.” The stranger insisted.

You felt John stiffen beside you at the pushy nature of what he saw as an average looking man. The gentle hold John had on your hip slipped away and bawled into a fist now resting on the bar. It was infuriating enough for John to witness you be approached by a pushy man but when it was his daughter; John became irate.

“Nope, thanks.” Evelyn waved him off.

“Oi, another of what she’s having, on me.” The man called to the bartender.

He waved his hand around Evelyn’s drink, you were focused on her eye roll while John was staring daggers at the man. John tried to step forward but you stoped him by tugging on his belt loop and pushing him back with one hand on his chest. With a sweet smile and big doe eyes that John loved you tried to distract him. Your effort was futile as John would never stand around while anyone made his daughter uncomfortable.

“I said-“ Evelyn was about to confront the man when she felt the hulking presence of her father. It was as if a looming shadow was cast over her and this stranger, causing them both to shrink under it.

“Leave her be. Or I’ll shove that drink, glass and all, so far up your ass you’ll taste it.” John practically growled.

Throwing his hands up in defeat and giving John an annoyed scoff the man stopped. John’s presence was enough to scare off most men and you were thankful it didn’t need to go past John threatening the man. But the man continued to cast dirty looks Evelyn’s way, like she had spat in his face when rejecting him.

“Just waiting for the drink I ordered. Stupid bitch.” He mumbled the last part.

You grabbed John before he could start throwing punches. It was hushed but you were begging him to stop and let it go. That those were just words and nothing truly happened. Evelyn was waving her hand at her father to calm down, annoyed he couldn’t control his temper. It was her biggest gripe with him and she had been complaining about it since she was a child.

“Hope it chokes you.” Evelyn spoke in a sugary sweet way that flustered the man. His nostrils flared and he couldn’t find a good enough retort.

Evelyn’s response calmed John down somewhat along with your quiet pleas for him to not loose his temper. That Evelyn was grown enough to handle herself and she didn’t need John to intervene. John listened to you and felt proud at his daughter’s smart mouth being used toward anyone but you and him. The man stalked off to his friends and went about his evening.

Finally your drinks arrived and Evelyn turned her back to the guy. You and her shared a wide eyed look at John’s reaction. He was radiating aggression that was suffocating. Trying to calm him down, you rubbed his toned back and whispered about how good looking he was. You told him how nice it was going to be to have a full house tomorrow. Everything would be fine and you’d laugh about this in an hour.

“Gross.” Evelyn muttered to you and you both broke out in giggles like school girls.

Evelyn went to take another sip of her drink but stopped when John’s hand was quickly placed over top of it. Turning to look at him John had his gaze set off to the side at the crowd of people.

“What?” Evelyn said defensively. She immediately thought John was saying she was drinking too much.

“Don’t drink that. The ice isn’t floating.” John was off before Evelyn could ask any more questions.

Slack jawed she watched John walk off. His broad shoulders were squared and he looked like he determined to do whatever caught his attention. John’s quick departure made your stomach drop. It was instant how you knew what he meant.

“Fuck.” You whispered.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn looked at you who seemed to understand what her father was saying.

“Your dad’s about to get himself arrested. Give me that.” You quickly took her drink and saw John was right.

Waving over the bartender he nodded to you. This was not how you wanted to spend your date night. Glancing over your shoulder you watched John push through the crowd of people and make his way to the center most booth. There was a group of men John’s age drinking beers and loudly laughing and talking.

“Um- this drinks spiked. Can you pull the security tapes and keep it back there in case-“ before you could finish, shouting broke out.

You didn’t bother looking. It was obvious to you what John was doing, but not to Evelyn who shrieked. Evelyn watched as John grabbed the man who had hit on her. He took him by the shoulders and yanked him out of the booth. To Evelyn’s horror her father dragged the man across the floor toward the door. The man’s friends jumped on John to try and stop him.

John kicked them off with ease and instead of taking this outside, he decided he’d do what he had planned in the bar. With the fury of a thousand men, John started swinging at the man who had somehow staggered in to his feet to try and get away. John was beating the snot out of the guy who had just hit on his daughter and then drugged her drink.

“What do you mean it’s spiked!?” Evelyn was looking between you and her father who had tackled the man to the floor, straddled the guy and threw punch after punch.

People were trying to pull John off but it was no use. John was glued to this guy and ready to pummel him into a pulp. It was his goal to leave this man a bloody mess on the sticky bar floor.

“When ice doesn’t float what does that mean about the liquid?” You looked at Evelyn who stared back absolutely flabbergasted by your question.

“Mum, this isn’t the time for one of your science lessons!” She snapped.

Pointing to her father you glanced over at John now trying to get the crowd of men off of him. They had dragged John off and a few people were helping the other man back to his feet.

“What does it mean?” You asked again calmly and waved off your husband. You couldn’t stop him and no part of you wanted to get involved in his violent tirade.

“Oh my god, you’re just as insane as him! It means the ice’s density is greater than the liquid.” In her frantic state Evelyn kept pushing her bangs back just for them to fall into her face again.

“Was it greater when you first got it?” You asked expectantly.

A man’s shriek caught your attention and you turned to see John chasing after the man who was trying to make a break for the door. John got ahold of him by the collar of his shirt and had him in a headlock a second later. He was trying to choke the guy out. Once again John was yanked off of the man who then tried to hobble toward the door. John dusted himself off, faked that he had calmed down, then once people let go of him was back to charging at the man.

“No- oh fuck. Dad’s gonna kill him!” Evelyn gasped.

“What the hell are you two even saying?” The bartender looked at both of you like you were crazy people.

You found it somewhat comical he didn’t seem concerned with the fight that had broken out. But John was currently being dragged off the guy by security, who were not messing around. They were having trouble keeping a hold of him. John had a firm grip on the guys hair and due to this he was being dragged along with John toward the exit. At one point John got his hands on the someone’s shoe and chucked it at a one of the bouncers and clocked him in the face.

“The ice isn’t floating.” You pointed at the ice sitting at the bottom of the drink.

Ignoring John was easier than fretting over him. He wouldn’t listen to you even if you screamed your head off. There was no use getting yourself worked up. John was going to be John and there was no changing that.

“It was floating earlier, it doesn’t just sink on its own. Means someone put something in it. For example, a roofie would do this or a huge amount of alcohol but we know that’s not possible.” You gestured to the full glass.

“Oh.” Evelyn stared at her drink blankly.

“Oh god! Mum the police are here.” Evelyn had her fingers in her hair and tugged at the roots.

“It’s fine- uhhh. We’ll bail him out, don’t worry.” You waved your hand for Evelyn to stay put but she grabbed you before you ran off.

“How are you not mad at him?” She half shrieked at you. You were her mother who hated violence and got on her, John and Jj’s case for fighting since she could remember.

“No way was I going to be able to convince him to not go after the guy. Plus anyone who tries to roofie a girl has it coming. You just happen to be our little girl so it feels a little better your father’s the one to beat the shit out of the guy.” With a shrug you turned and quickly made your way outside. You had to do that little run because you were in heels but you made it there after pushing through the crowd that had formed.

“You’re both crazy.” Evelyn’s said to herself.

Pushing through the crowd you collided with the door and burst through it. The cool night air tingled your warm skin. It completely sobered you up to see police hanging around. Putting on your sweetest smile you were prepared to do anything to get them to stop handcuffing John. John was standing calmly with his hands behind his back and being patted down.

“Do you have to arrest him? The guy tried to roofie our daughter.” You smiled sweetly as you exited the pub.

It was now your goal to do anything in your power to get John out of trouble, like you had done countless times. A small smirk broke out across John’s face seeing you act all sweet and innocent. It was one of your tactics to distract men and it almost always worked, to John’s dismay. He knew it would be hard to ignore your subtle flirting when you were dressed like the little mix John saw you as.

“Ma’am he beat the man unconscious. Yes, we have to arrest him.” The officer motioned to the man lying on the side walk and bleeding from his face. He was out cold with another officer attending to him.

“He’s military-“ You tried to explain hoping that could get John off the hook.

You batted your eyes which distracted both John and the young officer. It was impossible for John to ignore how pretty you looked when worried for him. The officer faltered for a second and then snapped out of whatever spell you had cast on him when your husband spoke.

“It’s okay, darling.” With a charming, satisfied smirk John gave you a wink.

You never thought he could look so handsome with handcuffs on and a black eye beginning to form. The sleeve of his shirt was torn at the shoulder slightly and the white fabric was smattered in beer and dirt. You and John held a searing hot gaze as he was moved to be put in the back of the cop car.

“Wait! Can I just give him a hug?” You asked before John was loaded into the back. You didn’t wait for a response and made your way toward John.

The one cop who seemed to be in charge found this amusing and nodded to the younger to let you. You gave John a hug around the middle and then a kiss to the lips. Smoothing down the front of his dirty dress shirt your slipped your hand in his back pocket and took out his cigar. John’s face split into a wide toothy grin as you offered it to him and he happily took it between his teeth. Letting out a breathy giggle you lit the cigar for John and left him with one last kiss to the cheek before keeping his lighter.

“So I doesn’t get stolen.” You returned the wink from a moment ago.

The two of you continued to stare deeply into one another’s eyes, absolutely captivated by the other. John found you to be the most divine woman to walk this earth. With your sweet flirty smile and big bright eyes, he was falling in love all over again.

John got into the back of the police car and to you it seemed like neither officer truly wanted to bring him in. They were looking between you two as if you were love sick teens. Only you and John had been married for so long and had built a life together. That kind of awe and wonder of young love never truly left but could come out in moments of adoration like tonight.

“Would’ve done the same thing ma’am. Come and collect him once everything with your daughter is settled. We’ll process him quickly.” The officer patted your back lightly and then went on his way.

“Thank you.” You smiled and went to go back inside.

“God, your parents are so in love.” Evelyn’s friend Isabel sighed in a day dream like state. They were watching the exchange from the window.

“I want someone to love me like that.” Archie drunkenly pointed at you.

“Don’t we all.” Evelyn sighed in mock annoyance.

——————

“My wife here yet?” John called from where he sat in the holding cell.

John had been there for over an hour just twiddling his thumbs. It was him and one other man who was piss drunk, Charlie. The older man who looked down on his luck was sitting on the floor in their corner and babbling on and on about god knows what.

John had realized once he was being processed his watch was gone. It made him laugh to himself that you had slipped it off of him when you grabbed his cigar. You had been practicing slight of hand since the your kids were little. Clearly you were good enough to be able to get John’s watch without him or the officers around noticing.

John was trying to distract himself as he waited for you to bail him out. He was thinking about stopping and getting something sweet on the way home or asking you to make him something. That was when a police officer came in with another man to join John and Charlie. John lit up like it was Christmas morning.

It was the man who drugged Evelyn’s drink.

“What a treat.” John smiled devilishly.

You were standing at the front of the precinct having just bailed your husband out. You kept getting glances from passing male officers that had you regretting your outfit. Tugging at the hem of the dress you wiggled it down a bit and awkwardly waved to an officer who was staring at you longer than you liked.

“So you just bring him out and I wait here?” You asked the man at the desk who sighed loudly.

This was the last thing he felt like explaining, you were certain of that. He seemed completely uninterested and like he would rather be anywhere else. Then he stared at your cleavage and then looked back up at your eyes before answering.

“Where else would you wait for him?” The officer asked condescendingly.

The rude tone had you straightening up and ready to tell him exactly where he could go. You opened your mouth with an insult on the tip of your tongue but you were interrupted.

“AHH~” You perked up at the sound of a man’s high pitched shriek from down the hall behind the desk. The shouting didn’t stop and it sounded like a horror movie scene where someone was screaming and begging for their life.

“BREAK IT UP!” There was more shouting after that and you watched as two more officer went jogging down the hall and took a right to the holding cell out of view.

A few minutes later you watched your husband appear at the end of the hall. He was being escorted by two officers who looked angry while John seemed rather proud of himself. John had the hugest smirk plastered across his face and perked up even more when he caught sight of you. That charming energy came flooding back to John making you feel giddy.

“Take him.” One of the officers shoved John in your direction.

“And if you pull shit like that again you’ll get sued into oblivion!” The officer warned John by putting his finger in your husbands face like he was a petulant child. John put his hands up pretending to be innocent and you could tell by the smug look plastered across his face he felt he had done nothing wrong.

“What’d you do?” You asked as John took your hand and walked toward the door.

He had no intention of waiting around. John wanted to go home and take his beautiful wife to bed after a much needed shower. Then something sweet would be needed before bed and he could call tonight a successful date night.

“Idiot put that prick in the same cell as me. Oh, and nice job getting my watch.” John snickered as he held the door for you.

“I don’t want to know what you did to him. . . But it was probably cruel and over the top. And thanks.” You scoffed while squeezing John’s hand and leading him toward your car.

“You know me so well.” With that said John scooped you up causing you to squeal in delight.

He carried you bridal style over to the car after whispering all the naughty things he was planning to do to you when you got home. Kicking your legs you kissed his neck and egged John on to tell you more. By the time you were getting into the passenger seat John’s calloused hand was under your skirt and groping your ass.

John practically had his tongue down your throat while you made out in the passenger seat with him leaning over you. Your skin felt hot and a warm feeling was flooding your knickers. It was intoxicating having his hand under your skirt and thumb rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves that made you go cross eyed. Finally you pushed him off and told him to take you home so you could have your way with him. You didn’t need to get a talking to for making out in the car park of the police station.

John happily obliged and buckled you up so he could pinch your bottom one last time. The ride home was spent humming along to music and stealing glances that lasted a few seconds too long. Finally, after one long look from John where his icy eyes roamed your body you had enough. Holding on to your desire wasn’t possible, waiting to get home wasn’t an option. You needed him now.

“You should pull over.” You smiled mischievously.

“Hm?” John looked over to you and then his gorgeous blue eyes went wide.

He watched as you slid your pretty red panties off and tossed them in his lap. The two of you were on the same page. As much as rolling around in the sheets was what you wanted, a quickie was what you needed. Then round two could commence as soon as you two got in the shower together.

“Pull over.” You purred.

“Yes ma’am.”

——————

Hours had passed since Evelyn watched her dad get taken away in handcuffs and you told her to take a cab to the house. As soon as she was in said cab, Evelyn was calling Jj to let him know what happened. Jj was cackling and rushing home to see the aftermath.

“Where the hell are they?” Lily was hanging around the kitchen with Evelyn and Jj waiting for you and their father to come home.

Everyone rushed home to hear more about it and get on their father’s case for going to jail. Lily had gone to a friend’s without telling you or John and felt lucky that Jj called and told her everyone was heading home. Only it was taking you a lot longer to get home than the kids originally thought.

To their surprise their grandfathers car pulled up the driveway and out stepped you and John. You looked humiliated and John was trying to hide his smirk while your dad scolded him. It was loud enough Jj, Evelyn, and Lily could hear him shouting but not able to make out what he was saying.

“Why’s papa mad at dad?” Jj scratched his head.

Seeing your dad a few inches from John’s face and tearing him a new one was not how you expected date night to end. The fiery rage in his eyes was directed at you a moment later and you instantly felt like a little kid again. Shrinking under his disapproving eyes you wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

“Jesus, he’s laying into them.” Evelyn was watching you and John with your heads cast down.

You were tapping your bare feet while John had his lips pursed to keep himself from laughing. After a breath you didn’t give your dad a chance to keep going and made your way to the door with your heels in hand. John was right behind you and high tailing it inside.

“What took you so long?” Evelyn asked when you came through the door.

Everyone was looking at you, confused how you became visibly flustered by the question. Forcing a smile you shook your head and opened your mouth. It took you a moment to speak, your mind clearly wandering to something.

“Oh, nothing.” You looked and sounded guilty.

“Nothing.” John nodded in agreement. He seemed a lot more held together than you.

It was obvious to Jj that something happened by how his father was crowding your space and standing a little closer than he usually did. In fact John was practically breathing down your neck as you two shuffled into the kitchen. The siblings were sharing looks while you poured a glass of water and John started the kettle.

Your dad could still be seen on the patio. He was staring out into the yard with his back to the house. All your children had seen him do this before when he was particularly mad at you. It was how he gathered himself before he started screaming his head off.

“Nothing happened?” Jj asked you since he knew he wouldn’t be able to read his father.

“Yup.” You nodded and avoided eye contact.

“They’re liars-“ coming into the house your father was like a tornado ready to tear everything apart.

“Dad!” Your voice was high pitched, a silent plea for him to stop talking.

“Got arrested for humping like teenagers in the back of their car.” Your dad barked at you.

John finally broke and started laughing uncontrollably. He had to hold on to the sink to keep himself steady. This did not amuse your father and he was gearing up to turn on John next. Getting a call from his grown daughter who needed to be bailed out along with her husband sent your dad into a tail spin. He spent the entire ride from the police station shouting at you and berating John.

“OH MY GOD!” Evelyn shrieked.

“That’s disgusting!” Jj threw his hands up, looking at you as if you lost your mind.

“Woah. . . WAIT! Mum you got arrested!?” Lily went from unimpressed to shocked.

This was not how your children saw you or John. Yes, they knew you two were flirty with each other. It was hard to ignore the passing glances and how you both playfully patted the other on the bum. But doing something like hooking up in the back of your car was unimaginable to them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You were burning with embarrassment.

John’s uncontrollable laughter wasn’t helping you deal with the looks of disgust your two oldest had etched across their faces. Lily on the other hand didn’t seem interested in the conversation.

“We sit back there!” Jj practically yelled.

“And you’ve napped in our bed. What’s the difference?” John was just catching his breath.

His comment had Jj looking mortified and then John’s laughter kicked back up again at bursting his son’s bubble.

“Don’t let her fool you she’s been arrested before.” Your dad laughed loudly.

This was it, his punishment. It would be to air out your dirty laundry. You were an adult now, he couldn’t exactly ground you but maybe embarrassing you would keep you from acting so foolish again.

“Dad!” You hissed.

“WHAT!?” Your children shouted in your direction.

“Darling, why’ve you never told me about your criminal history?” John was belly laughing, unable to catch his breath and now leaning over the counter in his fit of hysterics. He knew everything about you, he was only teasing.

“You two can never get mad at us for anything, ever again.” Evelyn told you both.

“That’s not all!” Your dad was grinning like an idiot, looking proud of himself.

“I’ll kick your ass if you say another word!” You half shouted at your dad.

“Kick my ass?” He looked amused by the threat.

“Well. No. I’ll have John do it.” Meekly you pointed to John with your thumb.

Your dad and John shared a look. John shrugged and jokingly put his fists up. This had your dad chuckling deeply and shaking his head.

“Fine, but your mums no saint.” Your dad told your children who burst into endless questions.

“I know.” John grinned devilishly at you.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating @mayflysdie @aliceinwonderland-5678 @blue096 @rip-cod-brainrot @saturnghost93 @somehopeatlast @thepowers-kat-be @tenko-nii @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @thraxpatty @mnsnp @faeriedust17 @livstablers @luvr4miya @phoenixhalliwell @maissalov3u @ellerdod @tizzywoowoo @himboelover @yehsehneeah @r0vena

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timefall-if · 3 months ago

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MADDOX / MAXINE

M has bright green, hooded eyes, with natural green hair to match, and a nose that was broken one too many time decorated with a golden hoop nostril ring. Maddox has his hair cut in a permanent buzzcut, while Maxine wears hers in a wavy, short, and choppy haircut with messy bangs. M’s skin is an olive-taupe color marked with tattoos on their arms and neck. Both Maddox and Maxine are 183 cm / 6’0, with a muscular, boxy build, wider in the shoulders.

RIVEN / RAVEN

R has deep black, upturned monolid eyes, and naturally dark blue straight hair, with a sloped nose. Riven wears his choppy haircut in a messy man bun, and Raven wears hers in long pigtails at the top of her head. R has bright alabaster skin with way too many piercings to count all over their body (most notably: ears, eyebrow, lip, tongue, nipples, belly, and venus dimples). Both Riven and Raven are 168 cm / 5’5, with a lanky, thin build.

SERAPHIM / SERAPHINA VAUGHN

S has bright blue, round eyes, golden blonde curly hair, and a button nose. Seraphim wears his curls casually with pieces falling above his eyes, while Seraphina wears hers loose, and sometimes with some braids put together at the back of her head in an updo. S has a sandy skin tone with freckles all over their face and body. Seraphim is 175 cm / 5’7 while Seraphina is 160 cm / 5’2, thought they both have a slightly chubbier built, thicker in the lower body.

CASSIAN / CALYPSO KAZIMIER

C has stormy grey, almond shaped eyes, a straight nose, and a sharp facial structure. They have straight black hair that they usually wear slicked back and loose, or in tight updos. C has a tawny-umber skin tone, with scars on their back, arms, and legs. Both Cassian and Calypso are 192 cm / 6’2 with a muscular built, while Cassian has an inverted triangle shape, and Calypso an hourglass one.

#the physical descriptions are here!!!#finally!!!#thank you for the patience i know i took a while #if there's anything appearance related that i haven't covered and it's like super important then lmk #time fall if #maddox / maxine #riven / raven #seraphim / seraphina vaughn #cassian / calypso kazimier #interactive fiction #if wip #interactive story #interactive game #interactive novel #choice of games

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Dirty Work 18

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“How do you like it?” Luciana asks as she spins you to face the mirror.

Your eyes round at your own reflection. You can’t help but lean forward to get a better look at yourself. You never had a haircut like this. Nothing more than the discount trims that were often worse than not just growing it out or your at-home hack job.

“Wow,” is all you can utter.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” she chimes.

“Uh, yes, yes,” you sit back and tear your eyes from the mirror. “Thank you, it’s–”

“Oh, aren’t you so lovely!” Frigga interrupts as her heels click across the salon, “oh, it’s so wonderful. Look at you!”

Before you can react, the chair’s turning again. Frigga sweeps your hands away from under the cape and pulls you to your feet. Luciana moves to undo the long black shroud and swipes it away from your body, littering more hair onto the floor.

“Just a moment,” Luciana girds and brushes the stray bits from the back of your shirt, “there we are.”

“I must say, darling, you are even more stunning than I thought,” she keeps a hold of your right hand, “oh, Eliana, El!” She tweets across the salon, “what about makeup? Hm? Nothing too heavy, maybe a lip and some mascara–”

The platinum blond chuckles, endeared by her demanding client. You see where Laufeyson inherited that; the way the command rather than ask. You could never.

“I’ll take the little fawn,” Eliana agrees, “I have just the thing in mind.” She approaches on her long slender legs, “she has perfect colouring.”

You can’t help but preen at the compliments. You’re not used to them yet, you doubt them. These women are all so put together and gorgeous, surely they’re just being nice. You’re so much the opposite, your like a novelty; a doll for them to dress up.

“Sit,” Eliana points to another chair, “just relax, honey, I’ll take care of you.”

Frigga lets you go and you obey. You climb up into the chair and gasp as the back reclines. Eliana starts by swabbing your face with a cool liquid then pats it dry. Next, she applies a fragrant moisturizer. Her touch is relaxing but strange. You’re not used to anyone touching you.

You close your eyes as she sets to her work. She explains that she’s applying some liner and how to get a little wing at the end. She says you should keep it thin and subtly, then has you check your first eye in the mirror.

“You see, a nice brown, or grey is all you need, black is so harsh,” she shows you the pencil she used.

“Oh, thanks,” you murmur.

“Let’s even that out,” she nudges you back again and you appease her.

As she draws on your other eyelid, you hear a subtle buzz, followed by Frigga’s shrill greeting. She apologises to someone unseen before she carries on her call, heels tapping further and further away. You can hardly focus between her, Eliana’s directions, and the chatter all around you.

“Mmhmm, yes we were thinking of the Garden…” Frigga trails off as the door rings then swiftly blocks out her conversation.

“Mascara, look up,” Eliana directs, again, you obey. There’s nothing else you can do.

As nice as it all is, the hair, the makeup, and all her lovely plans, you can’t help but be embarrassed. Frigga, and Mr. Laufeyson, know you can’t afford all this. It doesn’t feel as much like kindness as it does condescension. As if they are the blessed elite giving you, a noone, with all their privileges.

It’s not a kind gesture, but a statement. You’re so far below them, you don’t even know what you don’t have. If you are to be anywhere near them, you have to fit their mold.

🧹

After the salon, Frigga drags you down the shopping strip. You shy away from the gleaming windows and the faceless mannequins in their luxurious outfits. You couldn’t wear any of it. It wouldn’t look right. Anyone would know in an instant that you don’t belong.

Inside the first shop, you make yourself as small as you can, crossing one arm to cling to the other, folding your shoulders in. You’re frightened of brushing against anything or knocking over that hand display with all the jewelry on it. As you pass a mirror, you nearly trip. You forget for a moment that it’s you staring back.

You shake your head and back away. You don’t like that feeling. You don’t recognize yourself. Even if you never really loved the girl looking back, she was familiar.

“Darling,” Frigga gives you a start as she nears, “how about this? Hm? It’s absolutely adorable.”

She holds up a purple dress; almost like an overall but more refined with three buttons along the right side. She has a plain white blouse behind it. It’s lovely but you don’t know if you like the length. You don’t think you’ve worn a skirt since grade school.

“Oh, it’s… nice.”

“Come on, try it on,” she pleads, “it would look so good on you, darling. With your figure.”

You gulp and blink, looking down at yourself. What figure? The boxy button-up and straight-legged tweed don’t betray much of that. Your body is your body; it’s just there.

“I’ll try,” you relent. It wouldn’t be polite to say no.

“Alright, you take this to a dressing room and I’ll find some shoes,” she shoves the hangers at you, “excuse me,” she turns and waves to the associate who greeted you on entry, “yes, please, she needs a room.”

The woman with ginger curls approaches and you hand over your, or rather, Frigga’s picks. Her name tag reminds you of her introduction; Celia. She guides you into the back to a large room lined with curtained stalls. She takes you to one and hangs the clothing within. You thank her quietly and turn to stare at the lilac fabric.

You sigh and pull the curtain shut. You strip away reluctantly. It’s all so surreal, you don’t want to believe it. You’re wary of the unusual good luck, the unearned generosity. Why would Mr. Laufeyson agree to this? And why would Frigga want to spend time with you, a maid wearing a title beyond her means?

“Darling, are you ready?” Frigga calls through as her heels tap out her arrival.

“Almost,” you call back, shimmying into the purple overall as you try not to rumble the sleeves of the blouse.

You refuse to look at yourself before you face the curtain and brace yourself. You step out as Frigga waits patiently, sitting on one of the leather poufs with a pair of white loafer flats in her lap, little silver bows clasped by the toe.

“Oh my,” she gasps as she rises, “oh darling, that’s… that becomes you. Oh,” she nears and hands you the shoes, “put these on then. Let’s see the whole look.”

Like most things in life, you let her bowl you over. You just go along with what you’re told. You go through the motions numbly, waiting for it to be over.

You bend to slip into the shoes one at a time. Once you stand, she ushers you around to face the mirror. She squeezes your shoulders before playing with your hair, setting you straights as she stands behind you.

“Look at you, darling,” she purrs.

You falter as you see the woman staring back at you. That’s you! You can hardly see yourself under it all. You press your hands to the skirt, wishing for a few more inches, and squeak the soles on the floor as you shift awkwardly in the stiff leather.

“This is it. It suits you so well. Sharp collars, cinched here,” she touches your waist, “I think we have a good start.”

“Um, thanks, but er…”

“You can wear that out. It’s a lovely outfit for lunch,” she insists, “but I’m thinking a few boucle jackets, some matching skirts, a splash of pastel,” she rambles on dreamily, “pearls, of course, maybe some rose gold…”

Your brow pinches over your nose. You don’t know what to do. You can’t say no and even if you were brave enough to, you don’t think she’d hear you. She’s like her son, that way. She only sees what she wants and there’s no denying her.

“Oh, thank you so much for humouring me,” she drawls, “you know, ever since the divorce, I’ve been terribly lonely.” You’re startled by her sudden shift. You blink at her, “my own daughter was never one for the shops, at least, not with me but Sif… she… well, c’est la vie.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Why? Oh, don’t apologise, it is me who should,” she laughs at herself as she leads you back into the shop room, “to you and your own mother. I have accosted her daughter!”

You nod and seal your lips. You feel the pluck in your chest. You distract yourself with a nearby dress; it’s beige and boring.

“I hate to overstep but Loki did mention your father is sick. I’m certain it can’t be easy,” she hums, “it never is. You and your mother–”

“My mother…” you pipe up, voice cracking. You shake off the wave of dizziness and sigh, “my mother is dead.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” she touches her chest, “dear me, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have–”

“I’m not upset. I never knew her,” you shrug and move on to a more colourful dress. “Just me and dad.”

“Well, it’s nice you have each other,” she says.

“Yeah,” you agree dully.

She’s quiet as she browses beside you, sifting through hangers. Tension ripples between you. Neither of you know what to say.

“How about this?” She holds up a satin blouse in a dainty shade of rose, “it would compliment your complexion.”

“Um, sure,” you let the thickness in the air slake away, “I… I’m not picky.”

“Oh, darling, you are too agreeable,” she teases, “you best not let my son play on that. He could always hear a no or two, yes?”

You nod, uncertain what she means. He’s your boss, you don’t tell him no. He doesn’t ask for your input. He just says and you do. That’s why you’re here. He needed a toy to give his mother, and you’re playing along.

🧹

The restaurant is just as resplendent and upscale as the shops. You try to keep stride with Frigga as she struts up to the open doors, a hostess standing behind a podium just outside as the sunlight beams down in a mid-afternoon haze. She smiles at the elder blonde as she greets her with enthusiasm.

“Good afternoon, we were hoping for a table outside,” Frigga declares.

“For two?” The hostess asks as she looks down at the tablet in front of her.

“A bigger table, please, we have someone joining us,” she answers.

“Great, we can fit you in,” the woman assures and waves you through the small gate of the patio.

She takes you to a table near the colourful flower beds and offers the drink menu. Frigga thanks her and sits as you mimic her. You do your best not to fidget despite the persistent displacement zinging through your nerves. She browses the menu and taps her groomed fingernail on the table.

“Is it too early for Zinfandel?” She wonders.

“Oh, I don’t… know,” you put your own menu down, content with a glass of cranberry juice.

“Or perhaps a white?”

You shrug. You don’t drink. You never have and never really thought of trying it. You rub your cheek and look around, squirming at the other diners in their carefree conversations. What are you doing here?

A new server approaches and takes your orders. Frigga gets her wine and you murmur your request for a glass of juice. You hand over the menus and she checks her slender golden watch.

“Mm, I did say two,” she tuts and takes out her phone.

It’s almost amusing to see someone disappointed in Mr. Laufeyson. To be on the other side of the table. You’re not the one rushing to meet a deadline for once. You twiddle your hands in your lap and peer around at the din.

A table of women sit with cocktails and green salads, gabbing loudly. They are probably your age. Friends. Something you never had. Probably never will.

“Mother,” a voice proclaims across the patio and you wince. It’s familiar but not the timbre you expected. Maybe it’s a coincidence.

“There you are,” Frigga stands and you turn to look over your shoulder at the burly blond. Oh.

You rise too, not wanting to seem rude. Thor hugs his mother and kisses the top of her head, “I was caught behind an accident,” he explains, “oh,” he faces you, “and who… it is the little maid!” He takes you by the shoulders and you flinch as he bends to kiss your cheek, “you remember me, yes?”

You can only nod as you wriggle out of his grip. You resist the urge to wipe your cheek.

“Maid! Do not call her that,” Frigga chides as she sits.

You lower yourself back to your seat. Thor drags out the chair next to you and you try not to show your discomfort. He is almost too wide for the seat as his thigh presses to yours.

“I never got a name, you know? Brother hides everything away,” he sniffs, “so forgive me,” he leans as he tries to look you in the face, “a proper introduction is in order; I am Thor, you recall, hm?”

You nod again and eke out your name. He offers his large hand and you hesitate to take it. You won’t be rude though. His grip swallows your hand up, tight and unyielding. When he finally releases you, you let out a slow breath and stare at the table.

“Speaking of,” Frigga remarks, “he is late.”

“Not surprising, he can hardly be bothered to leave his cave,” Thor scoffs, “what a nice colour.”

He touches the button on your dress and you squeeze your legs together, trying to sidle away without being obvious.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Oh, we had a wonderful day shopping,” Frigga supplies, “she’s so sweet.”

“Ah, yes, I’m certain father will be happy to hear you had a spree,” Thor chortles.

“What he doesn’t know…” Frigga giggles.

The server returns and sets down the stemmed glass of dark wine and your juice. Thor orders rye as you lean forward to sip, the tangy flavour tautens your cheeks. You feel your chair shift and sit back, only to meet the curl of his fingers on the back rest. He doesn’t draw away, his leg splaying wider to touch yours again.

“So we are waiting on him?” Thor challenges and slaps his stomach with his other hand, “I’m starving.”

“We’ll give him another ten,” Frigga girds, “perhaps he is also stuck in traffic.”

“Not to worry,” Thor booms, “we can have fun without him, eh. Probably more.”

“Oh, don’t,” Frigga reproaches, “this is supposed to be a nice family meal, you will not start with him again.”

“It wasn’t me. He’s the one who stormed out–”

“Enough,” she interjects, “we are moving past it.”

“I’ve moved on,” Thor insists, “mother, really, I am not the one who keeps picking fights.”

“Mmm,” Frigga purses her lips, “nor do you discourage them.”

“Me?” Thor feigns innocence, his fingertips brushing the back of your collar, “I only said hello and he went out of his mind.”

“Um,” you sit forward, knocking the table slightly, “er, I… is there a bathroom?”

“Oh, yes, darling,” Frigga turns to you as if only then recalling your presence, “just through the front door to the right.”

“Thank you,” you stand, “sorry, uh, excuse me.”

You turn and scurry off, clutching the sides of the dress to keep it from riding up. Once you get inside, you roll your shoulders, trying to shake off the sensation of his touch. You reach back to tug at your collar.

It’s peculiar to think, but you hope Mr. Laufeyson gets there soon.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #series #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor #au #maid au

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indigosunsetao3 · 11 months ago

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Homecoming

Another submission for @the-californicationist 500(ish) word no name COD Challenge.

MDNI | smut

He was home.

You haven't seen him yet but you can sense him, as if your body could feel the energy shift in the house you share. You toss your keys into the bowl by the door before peering into the empty living room.

"Love?" You call out as you walk further into the house, eyes spying the duffle on the ground.

There's a shuffling noise from the kitchen and he appears in the doorway. A sneaky grin plays on his face as he sips on his Scotch and leans on the jamb to look at you. He's already showered, his chest still glistening with droplets of water and the smell of his body wash permeating the air.

"There she is," he says softly as he tips back the last fingers of his drink, the ice clinking on the glass before he sets it down on the bookshelf nearby. "Come here."

You clear the gap between the two of you, reaching your hands out to him. You let your palms slide up from the waistband of his sweats, over the scar on his stomach, slowly scratching your nails through his chest hair before settling them on his shoulders. He watches you like a predator, his eyes trailing over your movements before meeting your gaze with clear intent as he grabs your hips.

This is how it always went, talking would come later. You both needed to feel one another; your soft touches cooling the raging soldier underneath his skin while his rough calloused hands set your dormant passion ablaze.

He pushes you harder into the door frame and you whine a bit at the bite of pain on your spine. He doesn't give you a chance to protest more than that, his lips finding yours roughly as he slides his hands down to your backside and under the skirt to heft you up in a quick motion. His fingers knead the skin there as he possessively kisses you, not giving you a chance to breathe properly as his mouth steals the oxygen from your lungs and he grinds himself into you.

Your nails rake through his hair feeling how he needs a proper haircut. The edges are jagged and uneven with the way it's grown out but it gives you something to grab and pull lightly. He leans his head back in your grip with a surprised chuckle as he gives you a moment to pant. For as big and rough of a brute he is, he enjoys when you fight for control every now and again; pushing his buttons and riling him.

You tug a little more with a smirk and he huffs bending his head back further. His eyes never leave your face and you can see the hunger, the need, in his gaze as you watch him curiously. His fingers dig into your soft thighs in warning; his restraint is waning.

He gives you one more second of control before he leans in to bite at your lip and yank you roughly against him. He moves toward the kitchen counter pushing things to the floor with a sweep of his arm, not caring as the sound of tinkling glass meets your ears as it hits the tile.

There is a perfectly good bed upstairs, or even a couch in the living room, but patience was never his forte. He wants you there and now.

He doesn't bother to strip out of his pants, only tugging them down enough to free himself from the restraint of the sweats. You squirm as you stare at him pumping himself as he looks at you, the feral smirk on his features making your heart flutter.

He's even less concerned about your own clothing, his fingers sliding the soaked thin cotton of your underwear to the side as he notches himself at your entrance. One last soul-altering kiss is all you get before he's inside of you with a rough thrust that makes you both cry out in one another's mouths.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust before he sets a brutal pace, his arms caging you so you have nowhere to go as he slams home over and over. The pleasure he pulls out of you is enough to make you not care about the fact that walking is going to be difficult the following day. Especially since you knew this barely counted as round one; this was just for him to take the edge off.

#cali’s nameless challenge #cali's challenge #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod #my fic #fanfiction #reader x anonymous 141 #reader x anonymous #you x anoymous

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sorbeau · 1 year ago

Note

what are your like essentials/you have to put in accessories or traits for drawing the bad kids?

BOY OH BOY DO I HAVE A LIST FOR YOU PAL

i have so many designs for these guys but there are certain cornerstones that MUST be upheld.

for Adaine, i love giving her huge round glasses, more often than not with some cute glasses chains or dangly accessories with them. im my heart she's also very tall and lanky, perfect awkward teen girl build. i like to keep her facian features very oval shaped, a sharp chin with a rounded jawline and a straight and thin nose.

for Kristen, I like to make her hair curly and cover her in freckles. she was the chosen of helio!!! she's kissed by the sun!!!! she's always looking sunburnt and tan in my heart. I also love making her rather stocky, just a stout girl with a big smile. i like to give her very rounded and robust facial features, chubby cheeks, a big button nose, and very expressive eyes.

for Fabian, his design is the one that changes the most imo. i could put him in one million different hairstyles and one million different outfits. i think his cornerstone design aspect that cements him as Fabian is his eternal smirk and general prettyboy aura. also the eyepatch is a pretty big tell. i like to give him sharp rectangular features, a strong jawline, defined cheekbones, and a straight nose, occasionally dropping in some cheeky dimples.

for Gorgug, i really like to give him a longer haircut, as well as part his bangs to sort of cover one eye. he's very rectangular to me and has a very long but toned build. i like to keep his face very rectanguler but rounded and soft, a square jaw and defined cheekbones, but soft brows and eyes with a large downturned nose.

for Fig, her design is also one that changes a lot, but that in and of itself is a huge part of her character!!! she's spontaneous and rebellious, and I always make sure her design reflects that. her hairstyle hats lots of subtle changes, but i like to stick to alternative microbangs a lot and making her horns curve inwards slightly. a little demon tail is optional for her, but always fun. i like to give her very heart shaped features, with a pointed chin and round defines cheeks, as well as a pointed button nose and expressive but sharp eyes.

for Riz, i really like to lean into the feral/animalistic side of goblins that we see in fh. sharp teeth, big sharp catlike eyes, and large expressive ears. im also a huge fab of giving him digitigrade legs and paws and a fuzzy tail. in my heart he's sharp and scratchy and covered in fuzz. i like to keep his face sharp but round and cute, he's got round cheeks but a sharp jawline, a small downturned nose, and wild expressive eyebrows.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #riz gukgak #fabian aramais seacaster #fig faeth #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago

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Samuel Seo x Reader: Haircut

"Hmm your hair's getting long."

Samuel tilts his head just out of reach, leaving your fingers outstretched and clasping at thin air.

"Then I'll ask my assistant to schedule an appointment," he doesnt bother to look at you, eyes continuing to scan over his documents.

"Sammy~" Your hand is retracted, but now you thrust your entire head in his field of vision and up close so he has no choice but to pay you attention.

Just because you're in his face doesn't mean he has to look at you.

He closes his eyes, and rubs his temples instead. All too familiar that if something piques your interest, then it means an incoming headache for him.

"What."

"Why can't I cut it?"

He opens one eye at that and see your hopeful grin.

You're an idiot.

"Absolutely not."

"Ok now keep your head down," and Samuel keeps his head down obediently.

The fact that Samuel Seo, someone who is meticulous about his grooming habits, has given in and allowed you to do this is one thing.

But there's something terribly endearing about this man, who is usually so headstrong and unyielding, being docile and compliant.

It tugs at your heartstrings.

"Get a move on."

Well, so much for that

The clippers buzz away, trimming back his undercut. He stays still and silent, letting you angle him this way and that, face soft and vulnerable without his glasses on.

Once you're done and brushing the stray hairs away with your fingers, Samuel's eyes flutter close and you linger - just for a moment on his forehead, his nose, his jaw, his neck.

A ghost of a smile appears on Samuel's face when he realises what you're doing.

How can you help it though. He really can be too handsome for words when he's not being all ornery and difficult.

With careful hands, you pull at the long strands and snip away - taking an inch or so off the lengths. Working your way round his head then finally, cross-checking and double cross-checking your work.

As you crouch down in front of him, eye-level and fingers lightly grasping and running through his hair to ensure it's even, you sneak a few more glances at his face.

Eyes so dark, almost black, that you find hard to tear yourself away from. The faintest scar on his left cheek that is invisible at a normal distance. A pale freckle on his lip and a hint of a five o'clock shadow along his sharp jawline. Tattoos that extend from the neck and continue below the collar, teasing at what is hidden under there.

Damn, you think, watching his lips part slightly as he breathes, it's unfair how hot this guy is.

"All done?" he asks, amusement now dancing in his eyes as he catches you studying his face.

Samuel had agreed to this because. Because, he suppose, when has he ever said no to you? Though he didn't think ahead to how intimate it would be; the proximity of your body, breath tingling his skin, tender touches everywhere.

And now. The way you look at him. He feels heady. Drunk.

"Yeah," you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "All done."

#i am surprising myself with the amount of shit i write tbh #i dont know how this bs keeps spewing forth #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo #seo seongeun #seo seongeun x reader #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #wannaeatramyeon

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seeking-elsewhither · 13 days ago

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Here, have some Triple Threat obsessive analyses as I work out how to translate their hair into the infamous Fett Curls ™️

Mox:

Bangs on either side like Hunter’s stray bangs

Haphazard, short, choppy layers -> frustration, but still trying to hold it together for the team*

Stak:

Shorn close to the head like Crosshair’s was

Really problematic cut, small locks chopped off - more like hacked off -> impatient, sharp, feather-blade like**

Deke

Lots of volume, thickness

Bangs and layer-cut reminiscent of Omega’s cut after first rescue from Kamino

Round cheeks -> youthful, hopeful, vibrant***

Additional notes:

*what I mean by ‘short’ is how his layers start off way too short on top of his head

Mox, my beloved boy, I hate your haircut man. Those…sidebangs?? Sideburns?? Mock sidebburns-via-sidebangs?? Idk but they’re horrible and I know for a fact that they were a choice.

How he came about the choice is something I’m still playing around with. It could be A) Mox chose to cut his hair this way, B) Mox was trying to cut his hair and failing miserably and just gave up and decided this worked decently enough, C) either Stak or, more likely, Deke cut Mox’s hair for him and it ended up this way and he didn’t have the heart to say anything against it, or D) one of their fellow cadets (possibly Mox’s own batchmate) who’d managed to escape with them into the jungle gave him his cut but died along the way and this is his way of remembering his brother.

Mox’s hair is a nightmare to turn into curls :/

**I add 'hacked off’ because his hair looks a bit like he grabbed a pair of scissors and rage-cut his hair by grabbing really thin locks, but idk I’m not hair specialist, don’t take my word for it

Stak’s hair is something I can deal with, it’s not too bad (screaming as I stare at those really short cuts smack-dab on the top of his head)

***no cuz every time I look at him my brain shuts down with a squeal of Baby! because his cheeks are just SO chubby man he’s got the ROUNDEST face ever asdfghjkl

Deke’s hair is, objectively, my favourite because of how much it looks like Omega’s - all poofy and bouncy, and it frames his round face so well!

Can you tell I have ptsd from my latest haircut where my layers started off too short?

I’m wincing for Mox and Stak’s cases here. Hunter had better make a priority out of haircare for their sakes.

#far away galaxy #defective and effective #if this looks copy-pasted that's because it is #I cooked it up specifically for my target audience #all ready to be released into the wild for perusal #to mayke

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brightside-of-the-upsidedown · 2 years ago

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I'm not sure how I'll continue it yet, but this is the infamous pastel grunge punk!Steve I ended up writing instead of tentacles, so enjoy XD

Sparked by this beautiful post

By @discodeviant because while I was reading, Beggar's Song by Matt Maeson started playing in my head.

Steve looked into the backroom bathroom's cracked mirror and fixed his hair for the seventh time in the last thirty minutes. It was practically a ritual at this point when he was nervous. Well, maybe it'd become his lucky thing after tonight.

He brushed the hair away from his face and clicked his tongue ring pensively. From one side, his new haircut still had his usual thick brown voluminous waves with highlights that nearly brushed his shoulder. From the other side, he'd had it trimmed down into a disconnected undercut and dyed baby pink. He'd originally been planning on dying all of his hair pink and getting both sides shaved, but had chickened out. He'd still been thrilled by the outcome though.

Or at least he had loved it just this morning. But would everyone else? Had he made a mistake and fucked up one of the only good things about him-

A fist banged on the door and Robin's voice came through the door. "Come on, dingus, you're already pretty. Stop spiraling and let's go!"

Steve smiled and let her in. "Aw, Buckley, I'm pretty? Even pretty enough for you?"

Robin snorted and wrinkled her nose. "Don't push it. Now get your ass up on stage before it escapes those pants and makes a run for it. You're never going to throw those out, are you?"

Steve looked down at his worn thin jeans and yeah, maybe they were a bit tighter than usual in the ass, but their new apartment had a lot of stairs, okay! Despite it being almost more holes than pants, they were comfortable and definitely something his parents would never have let him wear when he'd still been under his dad's thumb. So of course that made them his favorite.

He turned and washed his hands once more. Robin let out a choking noise and pointed at his ass. "That's a new hole."

For a split second, Steve thought she was talking about something else until she poked at a spot on his ass not covered by the pants. There was a new hole in his jeans that showed off a not small peek of his ass and thigh. But it was low enough that Steve wasn't too worried about it.

"Buy a guy dinner first, jeez." Steve teased her.

She just slapped his ass. "Yeah, sure, I know a great little place on Easy Street called Cafe Puttana."

"Did you just call me a whore in my own mother tongue, Buckley?!" Steve gasped dramatically. "And maybe if you dressed like this more often, you'd stop having to resort to handing out free drinks to get a girl's attention." Steve hip checked her as she giggled at him and opened the door. "Now let's get this show on the road before everyone notices their favorite bartenders are both missing. My public awaits." He adjusted his pink jean vest over his Nirvana t-shirt as he stepped out, still picking, still-

"Your 'public' is a bunch of drunks, punks, burnouts, and half dead partiers." Robin hugged him from behind just before they got to the stage in the bar. "So don't let the nerves get you. Just have fun and sing me a song, piano man."

That got a genuine laugh out of him. "I'm no Billy Joel, but I'll see what I can do, uptown girl."

Robin went up on stage to announce him. She hyped him up as best she could given her audience and got a not too bad round of applause. Steve wasn't expecting much, this was a gig he'd just gotten only because he worked at the bar and the band that had been scheduled to play had canceled. He usually worked as their bartender and he was good at it. He probably wouldn't have gotten either job if Robin hadn't stepped up to bat for him.

Steve practiced his breathing exercises as the players they could find on such short notice got ready. He stepped up on stage, gave a friendly wave to the regulars who recognized and cheered for him.

He took a seat at the piano he'd had to tune himself before the show because it got so little use.

"Hey, you bunch of vagrants and drains on society." His words were met with proud hoots and hollers. "It's me, Steve, your favorite bartender." This was met with a loud boo from the bar, Robin playfully heckling him.

"That bunch of assholes the boss hired canceled, yeah, I know. So you get me instead, aren't you lucky? Usually you have to buy a drink to get to listen to my dulcet tones." Steve grinned as the crowd booed, whistled, and catcalled. "So enjoy the music, I wrote it myself. Yeah, that's right, fuck you, I have layers. Or if you don't like it, just shut the fuck up and enjoy the view you bunch of pervs." More catcalls.

Steve signaled the players and waited a moment, waiting for his cue, as they played the intro. They weren't bad for only two days of practice.

Jesus, come talk to me

I am but a blind mess, I am wild and free

I know that I need us more than I need me

One more whiskey, I am wild and free

Steve started playing as he continued singing.

Oh, but I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

Steve didn't hear any hecklers, not that he thought anyone was that willing to get on Robin's Shit List, but he still didn't dare look up.

Oh, my mother Mary, come walk with me

I am on four drugs, I am wild and free

I know that I failed less, the less I knew me

Wander through the darkness, and come walk with me

Steve felt good about the beat and the band seemed to be really getting into it.

Oh 'cause I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Ay, yeah

Yeah I'm a beat down washed up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'll be damned if I let it keep me down

Yeah, yeah

He timed his breathing as the band trailed into the chorus.

Oh yeah, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve nodded and belted the post chorus.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down, yeah, yeah, yeah

Steve blinked his eyes open when he felt a bit of an echo- no, there were people singing along. He recognized Robin's off key voice and smiled. Steve sang out the lyrics with his whole chest.

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

You know that it's not over

It's okay to let yourself hurt

Swimming in the murky water

Won't you come on out? Yeah, yeah

He could hear a lot more voices raise with his as he sang the last chorus as the band tapered off. "Come on, beggers!"

We sing a beat-down, washed-up beggar's song

And we sing it even louder when the money is gone

Because we'll be damned if we let it keep us down, yeah, yeah

Oh, I'm a beat-down, washed-up son of a bitch

I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent

But I'ma be damned if I let it keep me down

For an embarrassing moment, Steve thought he might fucking cry at the roars from the bar. Yeah, it was a few dozen regulars, drunkards, and partiers blitzed out of their minds, but it was leagues above his self doubt's worst case scenario. He had to swallow hard more than once before he felt confident enough to talk into the mic again.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it, you assholes?" Steve knew he was probably smiling like an idiot, but it was hard to care. "Give a hand to the band, they had like two days to fucking practice my crap, holy shit."

The bar clapped and yelled for them. The band looked pleased with the positive attention and a few waved back. One flipped off the audience much to their delight.

"Now, the rest of the songs are covers, the good shit, I promise." Steve announced. "So spend your fucking money, don't forget to tip, and enjoy."

They ended up playing some Nirvana, a little The Clash of course, Dead Kennedys, Siouxsie and the Banshees, through in a Motley Crüe song, and topped it off with his beloved Queen.

To Steve's honest surprise and giddiness, there was a demand for an encore of Beggar's Song. He led them through it one more time before ending for the night. Closing time was in less than an hour and he wanted to help Robin out with last call.

They got a decent amount of tips that he let the band take the lion's share of, but still got a sweet fifteen bucks on top of the thirty his boss had already paid him. He'd be able to buy some pretty good food for him and Robin this month.

That's all I got for now!

The backstory is Robin and Steve moved together somewhere after Robin got kicked out for coming out to her parents.

Maybe she stayed with Steve until her parents told his parents and they called to tell him to send her home, whatever. Robin and Steve decided to strip whatever they could from the house, sell it, sneak into her room while her parents were gone to pack, and they rode off into the sunset.

Now they have a shitty apartment, jobs at a shitty bar, and they've never been happier. ❤

I have plans to bring Billy and Eddie into it later.

Two Nights Ago

Robin: I volunteered you for a gig

Steve: I've only sang in front of you!

Robin: it's time to fly, I'm kicking you out of the nest, dingus

Steve: does this make you my mama bird?

-Robin throws a pillow at him-

Steve: how could you do this to your child!

#harle hums #they're little shits and i love them #robin buckley #steve harrington #punk steve harrington #punk steve au #future harringroveson #future metalsandwich

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christinescupofcoffee · 3 months ago

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First Strike is Deadly

Chapter Three: Black Widow

It had been the first time in a long time that I had had a good lunch with other people, especially when I never knew that the pain associated with the scar would bring me closer to them. If anything, it felt as though I had been given a cold shower of sorts. I had been reinvigorated with a new zest for life.

But it wouldn’t be another couple of days before I saw Brendan again. When I did, he offered to take me out to dinner, and we returned to his place to spend the rest of the evening together.

He had gotten his hair cut and combed up over his head, even though I liked him with the slightly longer hair down to his shoulders.

“This is a little more sensible,” he explained to me as we drove to the restaurant together. “You know, I don’t look as ‘homeless.’”

“I didn’t think you looked homeless,” I pointed out to him. “I think it actually suited you. Whatever makes you happy, though.”

I should have known that he was planning something more with that haircut, though. He only had eyes for me as we ate dinner together, whereby I helped myself to the chicken Parmesan and fresh breadsticks: I had never eaten anything more delicious on a night out with him, although the tamales at Vanessa’s house remained firmly in mind.

He said it was more “sensible”, and I had a feeling that he was going to pounce something onto me, but he never did during the evening.

Indeed, when we returned to his house, I fully expected him to do it there. He instead took his spot on the couch and looked on at me with this look in his eyes, like he was just dying to tell it to me. His lips curled up into a thin smile as I rubbed more cocoa butter onto the scar on my leg, but it didn’t seem to be doing much of anything.

I had to persist, however.

I couldn’t explain it but I trusted those women whom I had befriended. I could trust them with even the darkest of thoughts that I had in mind.

I set the bottle of cocoa butter on the coffee table before us and massaged the rest of the cocoa butter in my hand onto the scar.

“How’s that doing?” he asked me.

“Taking it in,” I replied as I gently rubbed my hand along the length of it. He seemed oddly smug that evening, and I wondered what it was that he was thinking as I sat up next to him. I wiped my hands together, and then I picked up my scrunchie and began on making a braid out of my hair again. Once I had the point at the end, I sat upright and let it dangle over my shoulder onto my chest.

“So, there’s this really cool-looking two-story house that I found on the outskirts of Sparks,” he started right then.

“Two stories?” I echoed him, taken aback by that.

“Yes,” he replied, and I could feel the venom pulsing through my veins right then. We had been taking it slow this whole entire time, but I never knew that he wanted all of this. This was the first he had mentioned of it at all.

I thought of Maya and what she had said to me. I rested a hand on my bare leg, on the scar, and it was then I wondered if it was even worth it to keep it in hiding, especially since he seemed to look on at it almost with a bit of scorn and mockery.

“I need to tell you something,” I began.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged me. I nibbled on my bottom lip. Something told me that he was not going to enjoy what I had to say to him, but if he and I were to come on closer to each other in the long run, he needed to know about it. I closed my eyes and fetched up a sigh through my nose.

“I don’t want to leave New Mexico,” I confessed to him.

“Why not?” he asked me, stunned by that statement. I opened my eyes to see the look of disappointment on his face. But I had to keep going with it.

“I don’t think Nevada would be the better choice,” I explained as I stood up and rounded the side of the couch as if I was heading back into the bedroom. “I mean, they have scorpions up there. I don’t… I don’t get your logic.”

“Yeah, but—” He stopped.

“But what?” I asked him as I set my hands down on the top of the couch cushions to be face to face with him.

“I don’t think they’d be as scary as they are here,” was what he could muster for me.

“What do you mean? A scorpion is a scorpion, Brendan. Long tail with a stinger at the end, big pincers like that of a lobster, eight legs… some are more venomous than others, sure, but they’re all of the same species. I guarantee you that Nevada has plenty of them, even in the northern tier.”

“But I’ve been looking at houses for us up there,” he insisted. “The two-story one like I had just said.”

“Wait a minute,” I stopped him again. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

“I think we’re both ready,” he said with a creeping smile, but I squinted my eyes at him, at the sound of that.

“What do you mean ‘ready’?”

“A few years together, Jane,” he continued as that smile remained in place. “Let’s move in together. Two stories means we can start a family and have kids, too.”

But I shook my head at that. “Did you even hear a word that I just said?” I demanded. “I don’t want to move. And, kids, too? You actually want kids?”

“Yes, but I do want to move and have children,” he insisted, and the smile turned into something of a smirk. I licked my lips and pulsed my fingers against the back of the sofa.

“I’m not leaving,” I declared. “In fact, you’re going to have to pry this area out of my cold, dead hands.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

He smirked at me again. This was a side of him that I never knew before, such that it almost felt alien. This whole time, I thought I had seen it all with him but this was bizarre to behold.

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to do that,” he said in a singsong voice.

“Brendan… please. Don’t tempt me.” My heart pounded. My muscles tightened. I could feel the braid at the back of my head doing something. It had happened once before, but I had to resist the urge with him. He was my boyfriend.

“Tempt you?” He knitted his eyebrows at me. “What do you mean, ‘tempt you’?” He then laughed at me, a scornful mocking laugh, so unlike the man I once knew.

Like lightning from a bottle, the braid shot forward and wrapped around his neck. I tugged him back closer to me, up against the hard leather cushions. He gasped and yelped out from the feeling, but I was not leaving. I made new friends as well: there was no way I could afford to leave, not right at that moment.

I especially didn’t want children, either.

“Jane—Jane!” He clutched at the side of my braid, which I could tell was forming the exoskeleton. The strength built up within me as i tugged harder and harder on him. I leaned into the side of his head so he could better hear me. He could hear me but he wasn’t listening.

“I don’t… want… to leave the Southwest,” I growled right into his ear. “And I am not having children. And if you make me leave, I am going to sink my venom right into your jugular vein and stop your heart right in its tracks. Do you understand me?”

He gasped and choked from the feeling, and he closed his eyes. I didn’t want to do it, but Maya’s words rang through my mind like a gunshot. I let go of him, and he sank to the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, coughing.

The braid rested back on my collar bone and the top of my chest: no exoskeleton had formed on the outside, but I had a feeling that it would do so once he picked himself off the floor.

He coughed and cleared his throat. The haircut only made his face look all the more artificial right then: he had shed his hair all because he felt he was ready for the next step, but it was a step that I had dreaded when I thought about it.

“What the hell?” he demanded. “You fucking freak.”

And there it was. I flexed my fingers over the top of the cushions. My fists came forth, but I could feel them hardening with each pounding heartbeat within me. I was turning hard as stone.

As hard as stone and as strong as the volcano ready to erupt. As immense as the scorpion tempted by a predator.

His face then turned to the color of old porridge right then. I lunged for him, right over the back of the sofa, and I dragged him up over the top and onto the hard floor behind it. I slammed his head against the floor once, twice, four times.

I could feel something in my sides, something long and spindly, something that sprouted eightfold. I could feel it sprouting forth from the base of my spine and my belly. A flash of red and orange emerged from his nose. I slammed his head against the floor and gave him the gift of a nosebleed.

I punched him right across the face with all my might.

I slammed his head on the hard floor again, and then I got up. He stood up before me as blood trickled down from his nose.

“Call me a freak again and I’ll double down on the venom,” I warned him. He gaped at me. I could see the fear in his eyes. I loved him but I had a hunch that he knew what I was thinking right then. It was then I realized that he didn’t feel the same with me.

“Maybe I’ll tell my friends about this,” he said in a singsong voice. “I’ll tell the cops about this, too. Motherfucking freak of nature.”

“So, you actually wanna die?” I demanded, and I could feel something monstrous rising up within me. It was like the day that I had sank my venom into the man who tried to assault me on the street, but there was something else here.

“No…?” He glared at me out of sheer confusion.

“Well, then shut the fuck up,” I snarled at him. “You joke about this with your buddies or tell the police on me like the little pansy-ass bitch you are and I’ll silence all of you.”

“Yeah, I’m so sure of that,” he taunted me. He then laughed. “‘Pansy-ass bitch’? That’s cute.”

“What are you, fifteen?” I demanded, and I could feel the stinger rising again from behind my head. My hands trembled as my fingers combined together into pincers. The smug expression on his face left him unrecognizable. I spoke my truth as Maya had suggested, and now I faced this strange man. This strange man who had dropped his façade and showed me his real self.

A few years together and I saw the real him.

But the joke was on him because the son of a bitch never saw it coming.

My pincers pinned him down to the wall first, and I swore that I was going to push him right through the stucco. The pincers slashed right through the base of his neck. The stinger behaved like the stabbing motion of a knife.

My braid had formed the exoskeleton right then. I wrapped the tail around his neck and pulled with all my might. He gagged and choked for air. If the tail wasn’t going to do the job, then the stinger would impale him and inject him with a flood of venom.

The pincers dug into his shoulders: I made him bleed.

I injected him with my venom and maimed him from limb to limb. But it was my tail that got him as he just… stopped. His eyes drained of life. His breathing ceased. His lifeless body sank to the floor before me. Blood trickled out from his eyes and his nose as well as his mouth as well as where I had jammed my pincers into him.

He was dead. I killed him. I killed him with my own bare hands.

The tail rested on my shoulder, and the end of the braid, the stinger, curled up. I glanced down at my hands as my fingers curled up from their pincer form.

If anyone asked, it was out of defending myself against him. Just like with the man on the street, it was to protect myself. But I knew I was going to be asked questions, however.

I still had that immense strength within me, and thus, I scooped his bloodied corpse up off the floor and carried him out to his car. Using the light on the ceiling, I chucked him into the backseat. I shoved his feet in there so I could shut the door.

I was glad that it was night and his nearest neighbor lived a hundred yards away because I knew that I could readily be pulled over. I made my way into the house again, that time to wash my hands of the blood: much to my surprise, however, I had no blood under my fingernails or even on my face.

The exoskeleton had protected me from any splatters, even as I spotted the stains on the carpet and on the wall where I had pinned him down.

Someone else did it and I knew nothing else. I slung my purse over my shoulder and fetched a shovel from the closet, and I returned to the darkness.

A feeling of moisture hung in the air right then: when I looked up, I noticed that the sky hung low with that orange hue of an incoming front. Perfect. I could bury him and then the rainstorm would wash away any evidence of his burial out there over the course of the night.

I kept the shovel in the front seat next to me, and I climbed in behind the wheel.

I could take him to the mesa but I wondered if that would be bad energy at all.

I decided on the desert around Los Alamos as it looked as though no one was out there that evening: the steep terrain and the escarpment would flood should the incoming rainstorm prove to be a hearty one with plenty of moisture abound. I curled my clean hands around the rim of the steering wheel, and I thought about what had happened back there.

In fact, on the whole ride out into the barren desert, I could feel my braid writhing about at the back of my head once again. The venom was recollecting at the back of my head: I could feel it running down my spine, down into the narrowest part of my body, and down into the base of my spine once again. I could hardly shake the feeling of something sprouting out from my sides in eightfold form as well. For a moment, I had become the scorpion, the one that had been provoked and thrust out from under her protective stone in the desert.

In fact, it was safe to say that I was the scorpion at that point, as I reached the escarpment, the vast plain, and the hills which rose up against the night sky right outside of Los Alamos. No other cars passed me since I had left the freeway.

He was going to be buried in the earth beyond the banks of the source of the Rio Grande: that river didn’t need his bullshit to pollute it as he decomposed and mummified in the soil.

There was a headlamp in the glove compartment, which I took for myself. No other life for miles on end.

“For you… my love,” I declared with a break in my voice. It was too late for apologies at that point, and in fact, I couldn’t believe that I had done that. So much blood for such a tiny hole in the side of his neck.

But he didn’t listen to me. He didn’t listen and he seemed to be living in his own world. It was almost surreal to think about as well.

You think you know someone and then they complain about how too long of hair they have.

I began digging the hole for him there on the base of the hill, away from the source of the river. Even though it was away from the water, the soil was soft enough that I could dig in without any problems.

The more I dug into the dirt, the more relieved I was that this happened at night as well.

It was as if everything had fallen into place right then like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was as if I was meant to do this.

Once the hole was deep enough to engulf my whole arm, and I had sweat dripping down my back and my sides, I shook the extraneous soil from the shovel head and calmly leaned the handle against the side of the car and fetched his corpse out of the backseat. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to drag him out of there and lay him down in the makeshift grave.

I also couldn’t believe how easy it was to bury him, either.

I had killed one man before, and now I had killed two. I didn’t want to do it with Brendan, but he had pushed me into it.

I patted the soil with the shovel head and held back. At least I knew no one out there would find him.

“Sorry, babe,” I said aloud. “But you had it coming.”

The problem now was what to do with his car. I could say that it needed cleaning anyways. It needed cleaning and I did, as well.

#writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my writing #new chapter #the scorpion ladies #the scorpion ladies chronicles #first strike is deadly #also on ao3 #text

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krys-in-the-playhouse · 6 months ago

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Felt like posting some notes I've made for myself when I'm drawing my girlies. I don't always remember all of them, but I do try to keep most of these in mind when I'm drawing the girlies. These are also all subject to change as my art style changes or if the girlies undergo significant changes later on down the road. It also helps for writing too, so if anyone needs physical descriptions that the visuals don't quite provide, here's a short list of traits to help picture them better. These are also in no particular order, just jotted down at the time I was thinking the trait. Some might also be super short and to the point.

Also, as a heads up, I'll be talking in detail about cis-female bodies, so mentions about boobs and the like are gonna feature here. And I talk very briefly about Houki and Abby having stretch marks on them because they've had kids, and that Abby stole Vincent's clothes when she was pregnant, but that's the extent of it.

And down we go!

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Houki (IkeSen)

Circle/Round shapes

Friend shaped, soft round friend

Squart and thick. She is short and stout, like a lil teapot.

She has stretch marks almost everywhere you'd expect them to be. Most prominent areas are her upper arms, stomach, and breasts, made especially more prominent after the birth of her son.

Skin tone is closest to light medium.

Hands are small with short, chubby fingers

Center parts her hair

Black hair with blue undertones. Hair reaches the middle of her back. Very straight for the most part. Usually keeps her hair loose at all times.

Round, green eyes. Very bright green eyes

Round glasses, goes around her eyes. She cannot see without them. Her hand has to touch her nose in order for her to see it clearly without them (which means she's severely near-sided)

When she smiles, it's usually small, closed mouth smiles. Her face doesn't really express big emotions, or if she is experiencing a big emotion, it's a lot more subdued compared to the average person. It has more to do with her upbringing rather than something physical like with Sasuke.

For IkeSen, she wears a medium blue kimono with pink trimmings. If there are designs on her kimono, it's usually flowers or butterflies. She's also often wearing a dark blue haori/jacket

Ophelia (IkeSen)

Sharp, straight shapes

Pale skin and hair, they just barely match. Her hair is white, some lights might make it look very pale blonde

Bangs sweep to the left (her right), which is where her hair part is and how her hair sits. Straight hair. For 7KPP, her hair is a lot longer, most often kept in a crown braid on top of and close to her head. With IkeSen, after she leaves Nobunaga and company, she cuts it short, shorter in the back than the front, curving to frame her face. She's got the Karen haircut, lol

Sharp, red eyes. Stole the description of Nobunaga's eyes being carnelian because I liked the image, so she and Nobunaga have the same eye color.

Bean pole shape, not much curving to her. Clothes give her more curves than she actually has

Average height

Beauty mole on her chin

Long fingers on slender hands. She used to wear gloves when she was in her home world to hide the fact that, though she was a noble, she's had to do a bit of manual labor in her life and her hands showed it. It was detrimental to the wealthy noble image she needed to portray, so she hid it a lot of the time. She doesn't wear them while in her IkeSen era, however, especially after she joins up with Kennyo

For IkeSen, she wears a dark red kimono that ends at her ankles, usually plain with no patterns, with medium red trimmings. Over it, she wears a thin obi and a wrap-style skirt called a mobakama over that (also red).

She mostly hides her emotions to be pleasant and pleasing to those around her, so she can keep up the image of the demure, high-class lady to get what she wants. Once she's done some emotional healing, however, her smiles seem more genuine and natural compared how she used to smile back home.

Thea (IkeVamp)

Bean-pole, tall and thin, willowy

Long shapes

Brown hair with warm/reddish undertones. Keeps it long. Kind of a loose bell shape around her face to soften the lines of her jaw while the rest is braided down her back for working convenience. Fully unfurled, her hair reaches her butt. Bangs sweep to the right (her left)

Freckles, freckles for days. Most concentrated on the apples of her cheeks and nose with some on her forearms and shoulders

Large, round blue eyes.

Pale skin with pinker undertones/warmer under tones

Slender hands with calluses. She's a seamstress by trade so her calluses are most prominent on her thumbs and forefingers. Has been gaining more of them since she started living in Comte's mansion and does more manual labor with Sebastian.

Her everyday wear at le Comte's mansion consists of a button-down yellow blouse, long blue skirt that reaches her ankles, and spat boots that button up the side. When she's working with Sebastian, she'll also sport a white apron because who wants to get their clothes dirty while working? Not Thea.

When she goes out into 1890s Paris, she dresses in the fashion of the day. Comte is quick to provide her clothes (bc sugar daddy gonna sugar), her usual wardrobe involving warm yellows and browns with fake flowers to match.

Very open with her expressions, she's quick to smile big and laugh if the mood strikes her. You'll also know when she's upset because the frown would be so, so deep. She also talks with her hands a lot, so if her face isn't showing what's she's feeling (a rare occurrence), her hands are also a dead giveaway.

Abby (IkeVamp)

Petite, soft shapes. The boba and hips have some gentle curves to them.

Short stature, small, slender hands

Cutest tummy pudge, wanna kiss it. Has most of her stretch marks here, made more prominent after she has kids.

Short, blonde hair. Lengthens and has more volume as she gets older. Usually worn straight with a little curl at the ends

Pale skin with some golden/cooler undertones

Round, warm brown eyes.

At first, she usually always looks nervous, always keeps her arms close to her body in the beginning because she's a nervous lil bean, she wants to take up as little space as possible. This changes once she gains more confidence in herself.

Wears boxy sweaters, sweater vests, and dress pants at first because she wasn't confident in her body (among other things) so she dressed to hide what she didn't like looking at. During her first pregnancy, she was notorious for stealing Vincent's clothes (less so in her later ones) because she felt more comfortable in them for this reason. Later on, she does pick up some more feminine styles like long flowy skirts and rounded sleeve tops as she gains more confidence in herself.

Maddie (IkeRev)

Oval shapes, as opposed to circle shapes like Houki

Short and curvy. Girlfriend is stacked like a brick house

Cool green/almost greyish colored hair, kept short with some fluff to it

Plum colored eyes. Round eyes

A lot of cool colors overall

Light medium skin, maybe with some yellow undertones to contrast with her other cool colors

Two pink earrings each on the tips of her ears and one in the lobe parts.

Sometimes has flowers in her hair, usually pink ones

Long shirts, short jackets

Always in boots. Made for walking and that's just what they do. Most often seen in knee to thigh length ones.

Wears chokers like 90% of the time

Another that likes to talk with her hands, like Thea.

Also pretty open with her emotions, smiles big and laughs loud.

Debating over whether to give her tattoos. Will determine this at a later date

Clara (IkePri)

Pear-shaped. Might not have the boba of Jin's dreams, but she does have some nice hips. Clavis approves.

Long brown wavy hair with cooler undertones. Usually keeps her hair in a low bun. If she's going to bed, she will braid it.

Round almond shaped eyes. Light pink eyes. Long eyelashes

Medium skin. Maybe just a touch darker than Jin with cooler tones as opposed to his warmer ones

Short but has a strong build. No strong wind is going to push her over. She could probably bench press Nokto and Rio if she really wanted to.

Dress her in warm tones to contrast with all of her cool colors. Orange is a good color on her, plus it links her with her friendship with Rio. Light blues/teal are also good for representing her relationship with Nokto.

Long skirts is the name of the game, baby. I usually put her in an orange one with a white blouse that has ruffled cuffs.

She dresses like an old-school librarian, mostly covered save for her hands and her head.

Still sometimes wears her engagement ring when she and Nokto were fake married, just not always on her finger.

Reserved when it comes to expressing her emotions. Wants to be strong for her loved ones but that can also lead to her coming off as cool and aloof. Catch her in the right mood and she can be super sweet and expressive (talk to her about MidCin or about making bread and tell me that girl isn't expressive, I dare you.)

Miri (Obey Me)

Soft shapes, friend shaped.

Similar proportions to Abby, gentle curves, soft and squishy

Short queen, thank you

Small hands. Asmo paints her nails pink! Also noted by Asmo after they make their pact together, her pointer and ring fingers are the same length on both her hands, which is neat to him. It's also noted that she has smaller than average ears, for a human.

Curly pink hair, her curls varying from loose weaves to tight coils. Her hair starts off short and choppy in Season 1 and gets longer and more maturely styled as she goes through the later seasons. By Nightbringer Season 3 (current season as of right now), it's mid-back length.

In the beginning, she dresses more to hide her body in the beginning because she's not confident in herself and doesn't know how to accessorize and become the hot girl of her dreams. This changes as she gets more comfortable with herself, plus surrounded by fashionable demons also helps with that.

Dark skin tone. Has warm/pinkish tones to her skin to go with her pink hair.

Has light pink to purple gradient eyes, round and wide for her curiosity.

When she creates pacts with the brothers (because I saw headcanons for this and I wanted to include it with Miri too) their symbols appear as tattoos on her skin. When she summons them or evokes magic in their name, it glows their signature color (Blue for Lucifer, Yellow for Mammon, etc). When she's using magic on her own without a brother, she glows white. When she's not using magic, the pact marks are invisible.

Locations of Pact Marks:

Lucifer: Over her heart

Mammon: Behind her right ear

Levi: Left kneecap

Satan: Right Forearm

Asmo: On her lower back

Beel: Stomach, above her navel

Belphie: Throat, right on her windpipe

Her RAD uniform has a knee length pleated skirt (skirt is grey but the inner pleats are red) and the cape portion is long, meeting her thighs like Satan's does. Depending on the season, she'll either wear a pink ribbon as her tie, or even a bolo if the mood strikes her. She wears white knee socks and black Mary Jane shoes. Like the brothers, she also sports a green button up shirt under the jacket, the hem covering to her mid-thighs while the belt sits at her natural waist, buckled properly.

Post OG Season 2, she wears Lucifer's Ring of Light, an older style ring that helps her to control her powers. She wears it on her left hand ring finger.

OG Season 3 and beyond, her Sorcerer Society tattoo is over the back of her right hand, showing the three staves and seven stars symbolizing her as a member of the Sorcerer's Society.

#krys's adventures in art #kinda #krys talks #houki of jiyel (oc)#ophelia of revaire (oc)#dorothea reid (oc)#abigail clarke (oc)#madeline fleming (oc)#clara laurent (oc)#miriam (oc)

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