#roach » inbox

[crunchybeards]

May I please request a Morton or Roaches, if it’s not too much trouble?

I'm going to be so honest I misread this and thought you meant Morton x Roaches and I was already in too deep for this sketch before I could back out soooo

New ship just dropped I guess? At least I knocked both of them out for you😭

But uh yes thanks for the request, I like Morton and Roaches very much. Morton that junk-hoarding silly goober. I just like cockroaches in general so Roaches was a cool companion anyway :)

[stupidpercy]

Hello! Love your Roaches ❤️, could we get a roach eating a strawberry, I imagined it would be a mini roach and a strawberry thats much larger than he is, wouldn’t that be adorable?

Thank you! I appreciate you :)

Best day of his life

[emmster]

Please please please! I beg of you for more Roach art!

Here’s Roach breaking in the barracks to make tea

[cod-dump]

If Price retired he would open his curtains one morning and see Soap (Captain MacTavish now) with his face plastered on the window sobbing.

Soap: How did you do it?! How did you control us?!  How do I get Ghost to stop stabbing walls when he loses something? How do I make Gaz stop hiding my journals? HOW DO I GET ROACH OUT OF THE VENTILATION DUCTS?! Price, sipping his coffee: Not my problem. *closes curtains* Soap: Wait I didn’t ask how to get Ghost to stop sneaking into your house and planting glitter bombs! Price: Glitter bo- Graves, from somewhere else in the house: YOUR CHILDREN ARE DEAD JOHN Nikolai: *ugly laughing in another room as Graves scream-swears*

Retirement was supposed to be peaceful.

He was supposed to settled down with Nik and Graves, work on his property, and do retirement related hobbies. Price doesn’t even know any hobbies he could start because he didn’t think he would get this! But Soap keeps calling him. He’s handling the promotion worse than how Price is handling retirement.

He asks two dozen questions each time he calls, each call almost always ending with him near crying and asking Price to come back just for a day to show him how to do things. He’s even showed up a couple times at Price’s property, unannounced and almost getting taken out by a either very surprised Nik or by Graves who shoots first and asks questions later when it comes to strangers showing up at his property in the middle of the night. Soap’s lucky he’s still alive!

Tonight, something is moving downstairs. Nik heard it first and soon all three men were out of bed and ready to take out whoever was in their home… then they heard Soap’s hushed voice and the three groaned in unison.

“John, get your man out of here before I shoot him!”

Graves doesn’t make threats, so Price assured his husbands he would deal with it before heading downstairs. He made his presence known, turning on the light with a sigh before looking for Soap. Oh, he’s hiding now. Great.

“Johnny, get your ass out here.”

Soap slowly raised from behind the couch, looking sheepish. Price just stared at him before looking at the clock. Way too fucking early for whatever this was.

“Johnny-“

“I wasn’t trying to wake you guys! I just wanted to get them and leave!”

Price felt his heart drop, “What?”

“Uh-“

“Who is here, Soap!?”

Price almost lost his fucking mind when he saw Ghost and Roach in the kitchen. Roach was stealing food while Ghost looked to be rigging something up in the pantry. Both froze when they saw Price and Soap in the doorway.

“Hey, cap! And captain… Heh,” Roach was putting food back into the fridge as Price stared at him.

Soap just stormed over to Ghost, “What the fuck is this!?”

“A��� gift.”

“Take it back, I don’t want it,” Price muttered while continuing to stare at Roach. He wasn’t letting this shit take any of their food, Nik would lose it.

Ghost grumbled and started carefully removing wires and a box from the pantry. Price didn’t want to know what it was, he just wanted it out of his house and away from his husbands. They were both already pissy about Soap’s constant pestering, he didn’t want to know how they would react to whatever shit Ghost was planning.

“I’m going to get a restraining order on all three of you, I fucking swear.”

“Hey, what about Gaz?”

“GAZ ISN’T HERE!”

“Uh, yes he is! He’s in the car!”

Price had to take a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed himself to not beat any of his former team’s ass.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Yes, captain.”

So much for retirement.

[roachy-draws]

Yayyyy, finally fixed my header and pfp...

It wasn't too late to change it from Christmas to normal..right? 💀

ALSO: HAPPY FOR YOU TO SEND IDEAS FOR DRAWINGS! JUST NEEDS TO BE APPROPRIATE! 🧍‍♀️THX

[archangeldyke-all]

ugh noooo

[farmer-beau-inbox]

Hi I hope you're having a nice day!!

I wanted to know what the thought process was behind naming your cat and horse? Miso is honestly adorable for the cat, but roach?? For a horse??

“I'm happy you think that Miso is adorable. As for the horse, I didn't named her. Well, I tried to give her different name but she wouldn't react to it when called...”

“I asked Marnie about it though! She said that Robin's kid, Sebastian, named the horse when he was visiting with Sam for fun... Maybe it's some kind of reference, now that I think about it...”

[npdkondraki]

hey boss do u want to see my new roaches . there r 4 of them

omg.. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE UR NEW ROACHES....

[h16h-v0l7463]

continuing to break keyfabe for a second. genuinely with my whole chest i hope you kill yourself as soon as possible because the world would be a richer place without you in it and i am not exaggerating

[black-suns-rim]

Did the caretaker manage to catch peepa roach again and put him in old man jail??

currently, peepa is missing. it seems after escaping, he hid. he's currently being looked for

[sucharide]

elgar'nan's giant cock

say more. please. come back. please c

[emmetverse]

everytime emcat answers an ask i imagine roach holding him up to the phone. also roach do you take those .5 lens photos of emcat?

✲ I have no idea how you got that idea, hehe

[pseudowar-archived]

@deadwar asked for: reverse + [ heart ] / simon, for roach. meme ; still accepting

Gary's nightmares are not frequent, not like they were, but they still were there. Lurking behind every good day like a phantom, or an assassin, waiting for the right time to pop up. The worst kind of paralysis demon - one made of memories he'd thought he'd made peace with, thought he'd worked his way through, but lingered still. Agony, as it turned out, was a hard thing to forget, harder still when the evidence of it still laid on his skin.

Most of the time, his nightmares are him alone in that pit. Staring at Ghost's back as he got away from certain death and left him behind - a memory that was false, made of insecurities, Roach had been unconscious by the time Ghost had crawled from their grave - and sometimes... Sometimes...

Sometimes, Ghost - Simon - was there with him. Eyes glazed with death beneath cracked sunglasses as fire consumed them both. The smell of burning plastic and material, their gear, turning into the smell of burning flesh as his gear gave way to his body. Flames eating at the other man's balaclava and sunglasses until all that remained was his face - and then -

And then it ate that too, leaving Roach paralyzed and in utter agony, staring as the man he loved, even back then, began to resemble his mask - a ghastly skull with an even more ghastly smile. One that seemed to remind Roach of his failure to keep up, to have been so weak, to have brought Simon down with him...

Gary wakes with a scream lodged in his throat, blocked by imaginary ash, by smoke, by the taste of burning flesh and petrol. He wakes with violence, soundless like how he's always been. Not a grunt falling from his lips as his hands swing and his feet kick, his body twists and pulls against the weight of his failure, the weight of his sin of inattentiveness heavier than he was strong.

And for a moment, all he can hear is the roar of an angry flame. The sound of flesh crackling beneath it. The pops of unused ammo from their gear as it went off. Then -

"Gary." A name, his name. Murmured like a plea against his ear as arms wrap tighter, and the man pressed against him tried his best to hold him down. "Gary, Gary, Gary. It's okay. You're here. Home. I've got you."

But was he, or was this another nightmare? It wouldn't be the first time he'd had them strung together. One horrible dream tied into another, like a train that he couldn't find the stop on. Each of the cars feeling more real, and more devastating, than the last.

"Breathe." The voice rumbles against his ear, almost a command, and Gary does out of reflex. Ribs expanding as he fills his lungs to the brim, all that he'd smelt before dissipating. Replaced with the smell of clean sheets and the scent of a man he practically worshipped, a man he'd loved so much even then, he'd been glad to die at his side. As he exhales, Gary goes limp in his arms, or close enough, and the action is rewarded with a kiss pressed to the soft, sensitive skin beneath his ear.

"S-Simon...?" It takes him a moment, not to speak, but to recognize the broken sounding voice as his own. The way it shook unfamiliar, unnatural. Not like Sergeant Gary 'Roach' Sanderson, who had survived so much at such a young age that even people with higher ranks were impressed with him. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up, it was just a nightmare."

It's so fucking stupid how quick he jumps to reassuring the other man, fucking ridiculous considering the situation, but Simon takes it with a quiet huff and no smart rebuttal. Just a shifting of his stupidly heavy arms as he releases Gary. Comfortable with the action now they he knew the younger man was fully awake, and not going to hurt himself with frightened flailing.

Gary sits up the moment he can, runs his fingers through overgrown curls and stares at the partially closed bedroom door. At the little light peeking through the gaps - a night light he'd installed months earlier so they both could stop tripping over dog toys on late night toilet visits.

"Don't."

Don't apologize. Don't get up. Don't leave. Simon's single word has so many meanings, and Gary recognizes them all. Obeys them without a second thought. Eyes closing as he presses his palms to them. Groans out something miserable and tired as sweat trickles down his back, cold and uncomfortable against his heated skin.

"Love?" It was a single, word - an affectionate nickname - but it was also another series of questions that Gary easily recognized. Their relationship unique, even among soldiers, entire conversations that could be had with just touches or looks, or single spoken words. Simon was asking if he was okay, if he wanted to talk about it, if he wanted to get up together and watch something on the telly until they both passed out again.

And honestly? Gary didn't know the answer. Hands dropping to his lap. Breathing in deep once more before shakily exhaling. Lips parting to say as much but - something else spilling out instead. "You were dead. With me." He shudders. "Burning. It was so real. I - I could smell it. You, me, us burning. I watched your fucking eyeballs - melt and I -" The sob shakes his whole being, his voice cracks from the strength of it, and the rest of his explanation dies on his tongue. Dies like they had - or maybe like they should have back then. "I'm sorry."

He expects to be engulfed again in weighted arms as he feels the other man shift on the bed. Expects to be wrapped up and coddled like a child by their nan. Cooed and rocked back to sleep in the safety of the arms of someone he trusted, someone he loved...

Instead, he feels the sensation of rough fingers around his own. Instead, Simon pulls his hand from the sheets and up towards his chest. Pressing an equally scarred palm against his chest as he breathes out something sad and small, and offers Gary nothing but the simple comfort of reassurance in return for his confession.

"It wasn't real." And they're not groundbreaking words, but still, Gary finds comfort in them. Comfort in the beating heart beneath is palm, the pulse that was strong and steady, and definitely not dead. "We lived. And we're here. I'm here."

It shouldn't be enough, but it is, because it's true. They'd survived hell. The nightmares was just that, a nightmare. Neither of them had died - and they were both alive, they were together. Alive and happy and in the flat they shared, with the dog Simon had taken home when he'd retired and his handler couldn't take care of him, They were living a life together, comfortable and cozy and normal and -

They were home.

[illholy]

is there a specific character archetype you enjoy writing the most?

█ 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 : 𝒗𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒆 𝒊, ( not accepting ) ⤿ @gravltas

* ˚ ✦ is there a specific character archetype you enjoy writing the most?

Whatever the fuck this is.

[godnectar]

Bro don't accept the confession that's nasty as hell ewww😭

y'all really are cold-hearted if u think I'm gonna ignore 'em calling me dear, a marvel and their muse in pretty pink text just bc it's cockroach signed 😭😭😭

[pseudolife-archived2]

[ GHOST | 13:20 ] !!!!! [ GHOST | 13:20 ] [ image attached ] [ GHOST | 13:22 ] Do you think I could hide him in my room? :<

@lt-ghxst ; ROACH for GHOST Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text ; text meme