hemlocksock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2025-11-20 01:37 pm
hemlocksock) wrote in bakerstreet2025-11-20 01:37 pm
[ This is what he's been studying instead of the blade. ]
Is it the dance recital or the Christmas pageant Thursday after next?
[ Functionally, they are not that different to Furiosa. She's uttered Sorry, I'm busy, I need to go to my boyfriend's niece's choir concert, or something similar more times than she can count recently. It's Max's family, so really he should be doing the bulk of the logistical planning anyway, but it's nice that all she has to do show up and make sure there's not too much grease under her fingernails.
Still, she is interested, if only to know which kid(s) is the focus. Playing... well, aunt is not among the titles she's earned so far, but having been an only child she is certainly trying it out as she does most things, jumping in with both feet. No backing out now. ]
[ Functionally, they are not that different to Furiosa. She's uttered Sorry, I'm busy, I need to go to my boyfriend's niece's choir concert, or something similar more times than she can count recently. It's Max's family, so really he should be doing the bulk of the logistical planning anyway, but it's nice that all she has to do show up and make sure there's not too much grease under her fingernails.
Still, she is interested, if only to know which kid(s) is the focus. Playing... well, aunt is not among the titles she's earned so far, but having been an only child she is certainly trying it out as she does most things, jumping in with both feet. No backing out now. ]
[He is terrible at domesticity, but he can try?]
Edited 2025-11-20 20:41 (UTC)
[ Prior CR (and m/f 25+) for actual shipping but we can go with something LESS SHIPPY for non romantic and platonic relationships because I live for him realizing he's in a very domestic situation without realizing it with romantic ships AND people he shares a common space with (New Avengerz, I'm looking at you). ]
(something more platonic/domestic with these two? Shared quiet spaces early when John's making breakfast, or a few shared drinks?)
[Totally down for any and all of these~ Abel is God's goodest boy pretty chill in most cases and who wouldn't want to live in Heaven? Like, jeeze, it's totally perfect and all (no it's not).]
[ The silence amidst the little breakfast nook the pair find themselves in is broken up by a barely contained laugh, one he manages to bite back at the last second. Until it happens again.
And again.
And again.
By the time Peter finishes reading the article, his shoulders are shaking. He is still sporting his nightly face mask, dressed in a nightgown that wouldn't look out of place in a Victorian setting, with his hair pinned in place to preserve his telltale swoop. Before Abel can even inquire as to what he is laughing at, he slaps the paper down on the table and sliiiides it on over.
The headlines read: Son of everyone's favorite dead fuckboy finds his balls in Hell! Worse yet, at least for Abel himself, is that someone claims to have a quote from the Beary Cuddly Boy himself: "Sinners are the shiznit! The babes in Hell are as bodacious as the sights, boy do I wish I could stay in Hell, too! By the way, babes, Abel is single and ready to mingle!"
Peter watches his face and when he sees the inevitable horror on his face, he starts laughing even harder. ]
And again.
And again.
By the time Peter finishes reading the article, his shoulders are shaking. He is still sporting his nightly face mask, dressed in a nightgown that wouldn't look out of place in a Victorian setting, with his hair pinned in place to preserve his telltale swoop. Before Abel can even inquire as to what he is laughing at, he slaps the paper down on the table and sliiiides it on over.
The headlines read: Son of everyone's favorite dead fuckboy finds his balls in Hell! Worse yet, at least for Abel himself, is that someone claims to have a quote from the Beary Cuddly Boy himself: "Sinners are the shiznit! The babes in Hell are as bodacious as the sights, boy do I wish I could stay in Hell, too! By the way, babes, Abel is single and ready to mingle!"
Peter watches his face and when he sees the inevitable horror on his face, he starts laughing even harder. ]
[ Open to friends, but m/m for anything ship related ]
[ when angel had walked back into the tower, trailing a little ways behind val and velvette (and vox, his head tucked underneath one of val's arms) with his head bowed and his makeup smudged under wet eyes, valentino hadn't said a word. he was silent as he pushed vox's head into the delicate cage of shok.wav's teeth, trusting his partner's (???) precious little pet to take him somewhere safe and far the fuck away for - long enough, at least, for val to stop being fucking mad at him. when he parted ways with velvette, he sent her off with a squeeze to one hand and a half-laughed good work, babe, and when he got into the elevator to take him up to the penthouse, he still hadn't acknowledged angel, following loosely like a pathetic little puppy.
but he puts a foot in the door. val steps into the elevator and he turns and he leans against the back wall, lower arms crossed with his phone in his primary hands, already thumbing to open one of a dozen social media apps to see what people are saying about the fucking mess vox made in his insane attempt to - what? impress the fucking radio demon? - and when the elevator doors start to slide closed, val doesn't look up but he puts one leg out, planting one foot in the way and tripping the sensor so the doors slide back open.
finally, red eyes flicker upward, settling on angel still making his way through the lobby like he's being forced to be here even though valentino's been generous enough to let him stay at that shitty fucking hotel. in a tone that's familiar to angel, put perhaps a little softer than usual, he says: ]
Are you coming? [ his brow lifts sharply, and then he looks back down at his phone again. there are three texts from vox. he swipes them all away, unopened and unanswered. ] Hurry the fuck up.
but he puts a foot in the door. val steps into the elevator and he turns and he leans against the back wall, lower arms crossed with his phone in his primary hands, already thumbing to open one of a dozen social media apps to see what people are saying about the fucking mess vox made in his insane attempt to - what? impress the fucking radio demon? - and when the elevator doors start to slide closed, val doesn't look up but he puts one leg out, planting one foot in the way and tripping the sensor so the doors slide back open.
finally, red eyes flicker upward, settling on angel still making his way through the lobby like he's being forced to be here even though valentino's been generous enough to let him stay at that shitty fucking hotel. in a tone that's familiar to angel, put perhaps a little softer than usual, he says: ]
Are you coming? [ his brow lifts sharply, and then he looks back down at his phone again. there are three texts from vox. he swipes them all away, unopened and unanswered. ] Hurry the fuck up.
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