#cod x latine reader

[buttdumplin]

A John Price meet-the-fam special!! This is pure, indulgent fluff.

cw: gn!reader, latine reader word count: 1.2k

When Price first meets your family, it goes over smoother than fucking water over a polished worry stone. It just is. You thought it might go like that, knowing that he’d do practically anything to make himself fit in as seamlessly as possible. But you also knew that bringing home a white guy always comes with a very specific brand of first interactions.

You prep him for the teasing that’s to come, about his accent, about his complexion, about the food he eats. John takes it all in very seriously, nodding along and asking probing questions. It’s all for your benefit, and he’s incredibly mindful of that. You don’t necessarily need to know he’s already got a plan of action, though.

By the time you arrive at the family home, you’re a little stiff, braced for the barrage of probing questions that’s to come. You can tell the family is curious, you see the tías eyeing up and down. But there’s no interrogation this time. Because John beats them to it. He’s polite and answers all the niceties as respectfully as he can. And then he immediately launches into offering up information, as cryptic as it may be. He dons that dimpled smile of his and tells them what he can.

“I’ve been at this job for a while now, but I’m retiring soon. It’s actually my personal life that I'm more invested in improving now.” 

“I’m hoping to buy a home in the very near future. Maybe like this one, a big family place. I’ve been tucking away money for it for a while now.”

“I’ve had to spend a lot of time away, but I’m really looking forward to staying home with this one.”

The tías are swooning when he makes intense eye contact with you across the table as he speaks. He’s not hiding any kind of intentions, from you or them. None of the information is particularly new to you, but hearing him say it out loud? In front of all the people important to you? It’s one thing when it’s quietly discussed in the early hours of the morning. It’s another thing entirely to hear it all said in such a permanent way.

At one point, your godmother, as entrometida as she always is, mentions she’s willing to go shopping with him if he’s ever in need of a ring, says she’s always had a good eye for your style.

“Oh, no. Se lo agradezco, pero ya no va a ser necesario,” he replies with an even bigger smile, and it’s got the women hollering. They’d take a bite out of him if they could. John carries himself with the firm confidence of knowing who he is, and they can see that. They respect it.

The tías, predictably, also do everything they can to keep you two physically apart. You’re put on comal duty, keeping you in the deep corner of the kitchen where he can’t reach you. John himself doesn’t try to reach for you, wanting to spare you the godforsaken “chiflando y aplaudiendo” even at your big age. So he keeps busy by setting the table, asking only where he can find the cups and tableware. They all ooh and aah.

“Ven? Ni se le tuvo que pedir,” they shout at the tíos, pointing at John’s busy hands.

A few questions do pop up once dinner is set. Do you eat this kind of food? Have you had this before? Do you like it? Tíos razz him into adding more and more salsa on his food, and John, knowing full well how it all ends, goes along with it. He’s managed to build up some tolerance that he’s quite proud of, but there is no way that’s saving him. He knows what he’s in for. A single bite and his face turns so red it’s almost purple, his coughing making it hard for him to get water down. The tíos laugh and he’s smiling along with them, the tías rushing to get more water and napkins and a cup of milk because “I heard this helps white people?” You swap his plate out for a new one while they’re all caught up with John, taking a few bites of food to try to match it to the dish he had before. 

A bubble of softness blooms in the room. The tías are cooing over him, consoling him after his “brave attempt.” The tíos take turns patting his back, smiling down proudly at him for having met their challenge. He smiles back at you from across the table, knowing full well what you’ve done to his food, spotting a few more veggies than he’s originally served himself. The tablecloth is long, surely they won’t spot him gently nudging your foot with his own. 

When your godfather invites him out onto the porch for a smoke, John knows it’s his time to shine. He asks you to stay inside with a wink. He brought those Cuban cigars with him for a reason, he’s sure he’ll make it through. You hold him at the door for a second longer, just enough to give him a tender kiss before sending him along. Neither of you missed the way your godfather so clearly recognizes the way John moves, his own military past helping read further into the man you’ve brought home. You know there’s a good chance of this not going perfectly. 

Ignoring the calls from your tías, you crawl to sit below the window that lets out right behind them. They both let out soft grunts as they settle into their chairs, a long hum of appreciation from your godfather clearly signaling John has opened the cigar box for him. It’s silent for a while. The only sounds come from the lighter and their soft exhalations. Then a soft rustling begins. It’s not the trees, it’s too muted for that. It’s not gravel, they aren’t going anywhere and they certainly didn’t make their getting-up grunts. No, it’s their clothes. Because they’ve come up with hand signs on the spot, across languages, so you can’t listen in. 

There’s some chuckling, surely that’s a good sign! But the low sigh coming shortly after isn’t very encouraging. You try to make sense of it somehow, but there’s no distinct rhythm to it. And suddenly you’re twelve again and trying to sneak a peek. You may not need a stool to help you, you’re tall enough to see through the window on your tiptoes. Maybe if you do it slowly, they won’t notice. So slowly it goes, your knees creaking as you inch up. Their rustling continues; good, they haven’t noticed. Yet as stealthy as you try to be, they’re both looking directly at you as you finally get eyes on them. Their smiles all too knowing. You godfather winks at you, clicking his tongue fondly. He holds a hand up before you can say anything, groaning a little as he rises. He takes a beat to look down at John. You’re all frozen for a moment. And then your godfather’s hand comes down firmly on John’s shoulder, giving him a sturdy shake. 

“Me meto antes de que la vieja huela todo este humo,” he says. It’s done. No disaster, just acceptance.

When you turn back to John, he’s already got a mad grin on his face, “See? This old white boy’s still got some moves.”

AN: I am buckled the fuck in for all this latine reader content, so yall will be seeing a whole lot more of it. Thank you again to @mikichko!!! For your support and encouragement, and your incredibly generous feedback. I'm doing this to feed us both.

Let me know if yall wanna see anything with latine reader in particular!!

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

COD Brain Rot incoming im sorry babes

THIS MORNING all I can think about are the COD men with a Latin partner.

Price who is adored by your mom and tias. But is highly prized and favored by you Abuelita. Price reminds her so much of her late husband, the patriarch of your family. Down to his twinkling eyes behind those stern brows. Whenever you visit her house, he has her point to everywhere on the house that needs fixing up. In thanks he gets a sweet and shaken kiss on the cheek. He secretly takes his Spanish lessons more seriously, wanting to speak to her more fluidly.

Gaz takes to Latin culture like a fish to water. Your dad keeps saying to him, “You’re Latino. I know it. Why are you lying to us.” Gaz is soon the right hand man at the family cook outs next to your dad. The first to grab you and your cousins to dance. The new reigning champ at lotería. Your cousins are asking you, “Does he have any brothers?” Kind of… maybe you should bring the rest of the 141 over

Soap is such a darling boy. I know he has worked with Los Vaqueros and has some fluency with Spanish, but I headcannon him to have limited interaction with Latin culture. And when he was about to meet your family, I think he was a bit nervous to impress. But once he got to the house… it was like he was always there. Soap loves a party. He loves big families. He loves to eat and to talk and to play. And your family does to. He’s recruited into the baby cousin soccer game nearly immediately, which is soon becoming an entire family affair. And is then a lesson in rugby. When you’re leaving, he’s making plans for next week with your siblings and cousins.

Ghost, our silent king. Though his body never betrays it, he is petrified. He knows you’re the princess/prince of your family, and just wants to do well. He doesn’t have the confidence that he’s worthy. When he arrives to dinner with your mom and dad, he is taken aback by your mother’s quick embrace. Much to your surprise, there seems to be an immediate connection between your dad and Simon. Maybe it’s the generational machismo attitude, but with a nod and a handshake, there is an easy understanding. But when your dad asks Simon to take a walk with him, you still feel on the verge of fainting. What could they possibly be talking about. And when they come back, both with soft smiles and semi wet eyes, you are so curious. When you get back in the truck and ask him what happened, he smiles, kissing your cheek and grasping your hand, “Just man stuff darlin’”

[cerise-on-top]

heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!

now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'

the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)

sorry for the super long ask, lol :')

Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D

Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages

Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.

Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.

Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.

Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.

[pricesugarwife]

The only cliche in which the english or americans are right about latins is that we are passionate (but not horny… or are we?).

We are passionate to the extent that we love or hate. I want to give you my heart and my devotion with the intensity of a thousand suns or I hate you to death.

To all my girls who write and read about Call of Duty, I adore you (even if I don't know you in person). ❤️

[southernbluebellereader]

Ghost with fem reader[if possible]

Most of the people at the base are not from latam but one time let's say she finds out one of the nurses is and they end up singing together no me se rajar

I'm from Latam and i keep imagining him with a latinoamerican reader doing latinoamerican things👀

A/N: Hi Bestie! We love Ghost with a Latinx Reader. I'll do my best and I hope you like it. The song is so good, I love it! Since you mentioned the reader finding a nurse who's Latinx, I'm going to make the reader a nurse - I hope that's ok! Also, I don't speak Spanish that well, so please bear with me lol

Turquesa

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x Latinx AFAB/F! Nurse Reader (COD MW2)

Song: No Me Sé Rajar - Vicente Fernández

Warnings: None? Fluffy and cute. Awkward Ghost. Minimal use of Y/N. Killing of a cockroach.

Master List (tag list at the bottom)

Work was work. Fun was fun. There was nearly never a time and a place for fun in work or work in fun. Simon knew that - with the occasional dry to the bone joke he'd tell to Johnny.

Then there was you. Always a smile on your face, always walking with a certain rhythm, and somehow always has music playing at some capacity. Working as a military nurse gave you the opportunity to travel far and all over the world, but sometimes you just missed home. And you couldn't just hop on a plane and go home, so you try and keep as much of home as you possibly can - music was one of them.

Being one of the few nurses from Latin America, it was kind of hard to connect with the other nurses, but you managed. Simon sometimes felt a little guilty when you felt lonely. But firmly enjoyed when you talked about your culture.

Every time he came in to see you, whether he was bleeding or not, he firmly enjoyed hearing you curse in Spanish. He thinks his favorite word is chancla. The only reason he knows what it means is when he caught you throwing every other one at a cockroach in order to kill it, while kneeled on top of one of the counters of the nurse's station, shrieking in Spanish.

He heard screaming and incoherent Spanish curses, and then things being thrown across the nurse's office. Quickly walking over there, slightly worried, he placed a hand on one of his guns and stood by the wall, peaking his head from the doorway. Sighing in relief and in amusement as he saw you perched on a counter with no shoes on and a tissue box in hand, hair sticking to your face, looking around frantically.

He revealed himself in the doorway and took a few steps inside, looking around slightly, then up to you, "Ye alright?"

Almost jumping at the sound of his voice, you looked up at the dark clad soldier, "Simón! Please! I saw one of those - whatever the fuck they're called, the cucaracha."

Smiling under his mask, he looked around the floor and wall, "I think you mean cockroach, Y/N." Simón. How it made his heart flutter every time his name rolled out of your mouth. There were very few occasions where he'd heard his name in other accents, but yours was his favorite.

Too focused on the floor to respond, "There! Over th-"

Simon looked down to the floor towards where you were pointing, seeing the brown little critter try to make a run for it. Simon quickly stepped on it with his boot, you yelping and covering your mouth at the crunching sound. Chuckling dryly, he lifted his boot to look at the damage done.

"Wait there, let me clean it." You hopped down from the counter and put your shoes on, then pulled out a few disinfectant wipes. You walked over to Simon, smiling slightly nervously, then crouched down in front of him, beckoning him to lift his foot so you could clean the floor and

You being scared of a cockroach and not all the blood and other injuries you've seen amused him. Once you were done cleaning the floor and the bottom of his boot, you stood up and quickly threw away the wipes with the remnants of the bug. While looking back at Simon, you looked back at him, "Thank you, Simón, I'm glad you were here."

Chuckling, Simon crossed his arms, "The things you've seen and the blood you have to deal with on a daily basis, and a cockroach scared ya?"

"Cállate," You chuckled and started picking up the things you'd thrown on the floor. Simon started to help her out, placing them on one of the counters for you to put away. Not sure how to tell you, he simply blurts, "I'm going away on a mission."

"Oh." You look up at him. He's standing in the middle of the nurse's station, holding a box of gloves. You weren't sure what kind of relationship you had with him, but all you knew is that he liked you. At least more than most people.

He'd let you sing to him in Spanish every time he came in - even for something minor. He'd even let you scold him. He was curious about her.

"Where are you going?"

"South America."

Knowing that he couldn't tell you much more than that, and that he couldn't take you with him - you were needed at the base.

"I'll bring you something back when I come back."

And that he did.

He came across a little shop at the end of his mission, little blue turquoises laid out on a table outside the shop. A little nervous, the shop keeper answered him in Spanish as to how much each stone was when Simon pointed to him. He nodded and paid the shop keeper and picked out a few of them to bring back to you, thankful that you'd spoken enough Spanish for him to figure out how much to pay. He kept the stones in his breast pocket the whole way back to the base, occasionally placing his hand over it to feel them, hoping you'll like them.

As he walked down the hallway to the nurse's station, music and sound software trumpets echoed into the hallway. Smiling slightly under his mask, he hid behind the doorway, craning his neck so that he could see you- dancing?

You had your arm hooked and looked in with another nurse's arm, both of you singing in Spanish.

dicen que si vuelvo encontrare la muerte (they say if I come back I'll find death) que por ti la vida me van a quitar. (that for you my life will be taken away.) Piensan asustarme para que te deje (They think they're gonna scare me into leaving you.) pero nunca nadie lo podra lograr (but no one can ever achieve it)

Not wanting to disturb you, he was happy you'd found a friend.

"Simón?"

Shit. Simon stepped into the doorway, filling it up with his size, then took a step inside.

"Simón! You're back!" You nearly ran up to him, smiling brightly as he wrapped a large arm around your neck, his eyes smiling at you. He looked back at the other nurse, slightly taken aback by his appearance. You looked back at her and smiled, beckoning her to come closer, "¡Ven aquí! No muerde, este es el Fantasma - Ghost." (Come here! He won't bite, this is Ghost)

The other nurse smiled slightly and walked up to them, and introduced herself. Before Simon could begin speaking again, you and the other nurse started speaking Spanish.

"English, please," Simon interrupted, getting ahead of himself and wanting to give you your gift.

The other nurse chuckled and took it as her cue to leave.

"Sorry," Y/N smiled, "I'm glad you're back. When did you come back?"

"A few hours ago."

Remaining in his embrace, you watched as he dug into his breast pocket with his free hand and pulled out two quarter sized turquoises, holding them out in his palm to her.

"Aye, where did you get these?" You looked into his hand and touched them gently, then looked up at him.

"Little shop in South America. I told you I'd bring you something."

You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, "Simón! Thank you!" He moved his arm from your shoulders to your waist, holding you close as he rested his chin on your head. His cheeks felt warm and slightly sore from all the smiling he did under the mask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat

[nevadancitizen]

about me + rules + masterlist (requests open!)

name: riptide

pronouns: he/him (ftm)

age: nineteen

icon: by callsignmint on tiktok

background: by krinkels (screengrab from SACRIFICE.fla)

only rules: 

i’m good with writing most cod:mw characters (+ some warzone characters) except for anyone from konni 

i’m getting back into madcom so i’m up for writing the main three + 2bdamned and some of the SQ

i love writing fluff but i’m up for angst >:3

i never write x fem reader --  most of my works are gender neutral and trans-friendly

dni if: pro-shipper, terf, anti-black/latine/asian, anti-lgbt, pro-zionism, anti-palestine, other basic criteria of being a bad person etc etc

currently working on:

mammon with an mc that participates in bloodsport (>//<)

main three + 2bdamned running the soldier’s cockfighting pit (set in yansoftie’s soldier au)

mammon with a lobotomite mc ♪ (twist on atom bomb baby!)

notes: i’m falling victim to madness combat AND new vegas once again..... RAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

here's the link to my ao3 (be warned, while this blog is sfw, there is some nsfw work on my ao3)

masterlist is below the cut!!!!!!

tags:

#riptide writes 🌊 (general writing tag)

#riptide’s asks 🤙 (all asks tag)

#riptide’s drawings ✏️ (art tag)

#call of duty 🪖 (call of duty works)

#self-aware cod au 🎮 (self-aware cod au, obviously)

#madness combat 🆘 (madness combat works)

key:

💘 -- gender neutral

⛅️ -- fluff

🥀 -- angst

⚠️ -- depictions of obsessive/toxic behaviors

⭐️ link to my art masterlist here!

call of duty

⭐️ link to my self-aware cod au masterlist here! (belongs to puff0o0)

könig

the social weak link (ft. awkward! reader) 💘 ⛅️

rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

“debts to pay” series (ft. sniper! reader) 💘 🥀

chapter one: “nasty majesty!”

sniping isn’t really something you wanted to do, but something you were forced into. luckily, you’re one of the best. unluckily, someone wants that position. that someone happens to be a 6′10 freak of a man.

chapter two: “sight for sore eyes”

Schaeffer is dead. you only want to celebrate, but multiple people come along to piss in your cereal – including one of the Vox Populi.

simon “ghost” riley

the social weak link (ft. awkward! reader) 💘 ⛅️

rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost’s asses.

retired transmasc ghost (ft. gn! reader)

a drabble about retired transmasc ghost and him discussing his top surgery plans with you.

hurting, longing, loving -- dancing to disco music (ft. amnesiac! reader) 💘🥀 

you wake up with no memory of simon. you can only hope to find him among your fractured memories and the scattered lights of a disco ball.

PERFECTLY PORTIONED (TO BUTTERFLY & RECTIFY YOU) (ft. victim! reader) 💘⚠️ DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT (trigger warnings on actual post)

ghost hungers. it’s the type of hunger where he knows his stomach is shrinking, borderline digesting itself just for a sliver of satiation. he wants rigor mortis, mold and mildew, and, above all, carnage. it’s a problem. but ghost can’t bring himself to care, because you’re under him, breathless and struggling on his makeshift butchering table.

john “soap” mactavish

you're out of touch – i've been outta time (ft. resurrected! reader)

you died six months ago, but you've come back to haunt johnny. not as a ghost, no – as some twisted version of you that johnny still loves. too bad you don't still love johnny, or remember him in any capacity.

obey me! shall we date?

all demon brothers

atom bomb baby! (ft. post-apocalyptic! reader)

you're a nomadic survivor in a post-apocalyptic wasteland until you get transported to a strange, new world. these demons were obviously expecting a human that was softer, less spikes-and-thorns and more fluff-and-wool. how will they react and adapt?

madness combat

hank j. wimbleton

one last retreat (ft. soldier! reader) 💘 ⚠️

among all the sounds you hear on the front lines, it’s not all that unexpected to hear dog tags chime from an alley. your curiosity is unwavering and is, unfortunately, getting the better of you. just one peek couldn’t hurt, right? it’s not like you’d meet what you thought was your death in an unoccupied alley... right? 

angel (ft. angel! reader) 💘 ⛅️

hank listens to your woes about being forced to become an angel.

sanford

darling daughter (ft. employer! reader) 💘

taking care of a human child is awfully hard when she’s been conditioned to gather resources from dead bodies. it only gets worse when the man you promised to be an informant for comes to collect.

deimos

aggression (ft. player! reader) 💘 ⚠️

after daydreaming of seeing into your camera feed once again, deimos takes initiative and makes his own device that connects with your monitor.

recovery (ft. sensitive hearing! reader) 💘 ⛅️ 🥀

when a trigger sends you into a spiral, you decide to confront the one who brings you comfort: deimos.

headcanons:

status quo

random player hc’s :) (ft. player! reader) 💘 ⛅️ ⚠️

headcanons i came up with when i wasn’t feeling well

fascination with the ordinary (ft. player! reader) 💘 ⛅️ ⚠️

your world is vastly different from the nevada native to madness combat. after the main three + 2bdamned get transported to your world, they each find things that fascinate them.

fallout: new vegas

joshua graham

o lord, o lord (watch over me) (ft. courier six! reader)

joshua graham talks an awful lot about god and his blessings, and it leaves you curious as to what prayer is actually like.

in space with markiplier

mark

apologies (ft. captain! reader) 💘 ⛅️ 🥀

after dying for the nth time, you finally get some alone time with mark to apologize for everything you’ve done.

[voidwritesstuff]

Quick Introduction and Request Rules

🦉Jerico/draco/Nova/Lazaro

🦉He/she/they

🦉Genderfluid/bisexual

🦉latine.

>Masterlist

Keep in mind ill upload whenever I feel like it so I might get to your request much later than when you sent it. Ill also reply to the requests that I feel in the mood to write (I dont like forcing myself to write) but ill get to every single one in due time.

Fandoms ill write for

🦉Love death and robots (Shapeshifters,kill team kill)

🦉Apex legends

🦉Rainbow six siege

🦉The wolf Among us (only bigby)

🦉Horizon Zero dawn

🦉Resident Evil (3,and 7)

🦉Devil May Cry 5

🦉In Sound Mind

🦉COD modern warfare 2 (all story mode characters except valeria)

🦉FNAF SB

What ill do

🦉Personal headcannons (ex: how x characters handle spicy food/hc about their past,etc)

🦉Mild character study.

What I wont do

🦉Character x character/ cannon x cannon

🦉Smut

🦉X reader

Request and have fun!

Stay safe!!!

[aiweirdness]

Harry Potter spells, generated by neural network

Last week, I trained a neural network to generate the names of magic spells from the game Dungeons and Dragons, by giving it a list of existing spells and asking it to generate more like them. It obliged, with spells like “Charm of the Cods”, “Primal Rear”, and “Hail to the Dave”.

Blog reader Greg V suggested I try the same with the spells from Harry Potter. I used the list of spells from harrypotter.wikia.com, which includes not only the spells from the books, but also spells used in the movies and plays. The list included many with official names in questionable Latin (Arresto Momentum, Engorgio Skullus, Expelliarmus), and many more known only by their effects (Bubble-Head Charm, Endless Sandwiches, Twitchy-Ears Hex).

With about 560 spells to study, the neural network had a tendency to produce spells that were either exact repeats of existing spells or else terribly-mangled pseudo-Latin, but I did manage to find some apparently functional gems.

First, the charms. The Wiki quotes J.K. Rowling defining charms as “those spells which do not change the intrinsic character of the object on which the spell is cast". By that definition, the “Herring Charm” and “Cracker Charm” seen below do not manufacture herrings and crackers, but likely merely cause them to dance.

Herding Charm Anti-Dining Charm Creaking Charm Clicking Charm Revelling Charm Hoot Charm File-Baking Charm Hair Logs Charm Herping Charm Pot-reversaters Charm Herring Charm Cracker Charm Ant Charm Ant Stacking Charm Bubble-animating Charm

The neural network also learned to produce jinxes, hexes, and curses, as well as a few unpleasant-sounding charms. Hard to tell whether the neural network would have been a valuable ally at the Battle of Hogwarts, or primarily a weird distraction.

Corn jinx Curse of the saris Bedthing Curse Tragha Fracking hex Cars Jinx Hero Curse Furring Curse Curse on Marvolo Curse Crushing Charm Anti-Shack Jinx Fight Charm Hork Charm Smoking Charm Terding Charm

It becomes clear, though, that the neural network doesn’t really understand what spells are, exactly. Here are a few that it invented. Note that “X to Y” type spells are transformation spells, so I’m not sure how turning a spell into a pug would work, exactly. It also seems to be searching unsuccessfully for the word “counterspell”.

Spell to pug Spell to Rum Spell to hum Spelly Spell spell Spell-Spell Spell Anti-Spell spell Curse of spell Spell to cure Spell Spell Reversal spell Charm to Cure Curse of Charm Hex Charm Hex Hex Hex Hex Hax Hex

The animagus spell, in which you turn yourself into an animal of your choice, is notoriously difficult. As a mark of its very advanced difficulty-ness, the spell itself is four words long, and annoying to remember: Amato Animo Animato Animagus

Maybe it’s memorable if you know Latin. The neural network doesn’t know Latin, though. And it has a heck of a time trying to cast the animagus spell:

Animato Animagus Arato Agio Animagus Amaro Amamoco Animagus Amato Anima Animatus Charm Amato Animo Animagus Amanto Dure Anto Animato Animagus Amato Animato Animagus Animagus Antmater Charm Arato Anima Animagus Amato Animo Animogo Amato Anima Mumora Animagus Anto Animato Animagus Beper andmoto Animagus Amato Anima Anima to Animato Animagus Arinta AnimaconStrag spell Repello Inimato Animagus

It’s unclear what the neural network’s chosen animal form might be. Ox?

Its favorite spell, though? Curse of the Bogies. Garbled variations of that spell kept showing up over and over.

Jend-curse of the Bogies Regrowing hair to curse of the Bogies Curse of the Bogiegs Misten per to Spell-barrh Counter-curse of the Bogies Fineey curse of the Bogiess Curse on to barter op Dhe Bogee's Curse of the Bogiess Curse Sounger-curse of the Bogiess Curse Tebbed to curse of the Bogies Curse of the Mogies Hex of the Bogery curse

And I think these two might be secretly versions of Curse of the Bogies

Soungor-curse of the Cougee spell Hern-pogey

And perhaps there’s evidence that I didn’t clean up the text I extracted from the Harry Potter Wiki as much as I might have. One SINGLE stray line of css code, and now the neural network has latched onto it, convinced that “MediaWiki” does something powerful.

RediaWiki:Inf oforo Diolecum Charm MediaWiki:InfoboxColoure Revelloro MediaWixi:I foritious

At other times, I couldn’t tell what the neural network was trying to do.

Horbing spell Marica Bubble-Reparifors Mumbledore's Reverore Inceacus Curse Durser rabbity hair Logiot Hork Lighty spell Hord Ligery Spell Mevitiblichainh's grate Flare Jigxe-sen tre Mucan to bog Brothachcingowbelus Brechaim hedbivicus Doobers Spell

However, I’m beginning to suspect that the neural network might be making fun of the names.

Stickee spell Hurder-gerping Charm Snombeling Charm Dumbledory Spell Hombledory Spell Fubbledory Charm Sbuggly wiggly Bubbledor curse Bribbedly Bubberoaberdo Bubbiro forjuling Charm Mubble-ponde Charm Sluggly wiggly Jelly-Feelly Pockongum Dookors Spell Squggly-wing fart

Other neural network Harry Potter experiments:

Generating Harry Potter fan fiction summaries with word-rnn

Generating Harry Potter fan fiction summaries with char-rnn

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's word count: 2.1K

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

[buttdumplin]

I’m still on the latine reader train and fucking of course I had to do one of their baby’s ears getting pierced. The boys all react a little differently, but boy, are they amazing fathers.

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, piercing mentioned but not described, baby is nicknamed Bug word count: 3k

It’s not something you’d spend a lot of time thinking about, getting your baby girl’s ear pierced. Hell, it wasn’t something you had a hard opinion on even before she came into your lives. But one day, something stirs in you. She’s around 5mos old, trying her hardest to roll over in the center of a nest of pillows her fathers have piled up around her, when you make the call. And while your partners are all understanding and loving, Kyle is the one you approach.

You plop down on the couch next to him, pulling his arms around you to make him hold you. Testing the waters, you spread small, quick kisses on his cheek. It’s a clear gauge of his current mood, and it has him squinting down at you. Not judging, more curious. He knows you’re about to drop something. 

“I’m thinking about getting Bug little golden studs.”

“That would make a lovely heirloom for when she gets older, something she can keep on her.”

“No, I mean la voy a llevar down to the piercer this week.”

His arms stiffen around you, and his lack of immediate response makes you turn to look at him. Kyle’s eyes are locked on the baby, his face perfectly neutral in a way you know he’s mastered for his job, like this was also somehow a threat to national security, to life as he knew it to be.

 “Vida mía… are you sure?” concern finally creeping in to scrunch his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m worried arracadas would snag on something as she’s learning to move more.”

It’s his turn to look at you, and all Kyle finds on your face is the stillness of peace that comes with having made a decision. 

“We’ll wait to tell the others,” he knows better than to ask and it has you throwing a big, beaming smile his way. All he can do at this point is return your kisses and ask you to share a link to the shop you want to take your baby girl to. 

You got to bed excited that night, thrilled by Kyle’s support. He, on the other hand, stays up late hidden in the bathroom, digging up as much info as he can on the shop to make sure it’s a reputable place. He’s reading every single review folks have left on both the individual piercers and the place itself, and he’s pinching in on every picture to zoom in and look for even the smallest sign of something wrong. A single picture of misaligned piercings would be all that it takes from him to call it all off. But he finds nothing. No skeezy people in the shop, no questionable client pictures, and the shop even has their health and safety certifications on proud display. Well, at least it seems like you chose a good shop.

The next day, Kyle is driving you down to the shop, hands tight on the steering wheel. He wants to be there. He has to be there. Pleased with all his digging and research on the shop, he holds Bug and coos down at her as you run through the details with the piercer. He’s straining his ears like never before, just to try to catch the piercer saying a single thing that sounds off so he can haul you both out of the shop and back home. But again, everything checks out. 

His voice is low and rough as he says, “I’d like to hold her as you do it, if that’s alright.”

You know he’s just trying to look out for Bug, trying to maintain some type of control in this terrifying moment, so you just kiss his shoulder and nod at him. Kyle doesn’t say much else. He sits still with his little girl in his arms, eyes wider than usual, taking in every detail he can.

Are the needles and jewelry sterile? The piercer’s pen marks look even on her little ears. Are the piercer’s hands shaking? This close to her little face?

It all happens quickly and nearly painlessly. You’re pretty sure Bug only cried out from how tense Kyle’s arms got as the needle came closer, scared just from sensing his fear. As the piercer finishes cleaning off your little girl’s ears, you hear Kyle release what must have been a held breath. The strain around his eyes immediately warns you of the blistering headache he just gave himself. 

You take his hand gently, “All done.”

He nods shakily and presses a kiss to the top of Bug’s head.

He’s never been so proud of his baby girl before. She faced off with something sharp and pain, and she barely batted an eye. Even after, it was almost like nothing had happened. Bug went back to babbling away in an attempt to talk to the piercer, who was kind enough to carry on a short conversation with her. It makes his heart swell with an unbelievable amount of hope. She’ll be able to face the entire world itself by the time she’s grown.

Kyle spends the drive back home in the backseat, looking for any signs of discomfort as your little girl sleeps, her little hand locked around his finger, his smile completely stuck on his face.

~

Simon is the only one home when you get back. He sits in the living room, putzing around with all of Bug’s toys and rugs, clearly waiting for you to get home and preparing for some play time. There aren’t any Baby and Me classes that day, at least as far as he knows. So it must have been something else that pulled you from the house.

He greets both you and Kyle with a soft kiss and a little hum, then reaches for the carseat, “How’s our sweet girl?”

Her gurgles answer him, and she gives him a big gummy smile as he pulls her from the seat. You and Kyle slowly move to put the key and car seat and jackets away, keeping a careful eye on Simon. He lays his baby girl down in his lap, helping bicycle her little legs with big, tender hands. And everything seems fine. Simon is clearly happy to be spending time with Bug again, and you and Kyle both let out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief. The sound of it, unfortunately, is bigger than it should in the room, taking up all the space left open by Simon’s absolute silence. Your eyes go wide and meet Kyle’s, his own reflecting the slight worry in yours, and you both sit on either side of Simon.

“Cariño, are you alright?” you plant a kiss on his cheek, Kyle’s arm finds its way around Simon’s back.

Now that you’re next to him, you can see the little quiver of his lower lip and the tears gathering on blonde lashes, eyes locked in on the little golden studs. His stuttered breathing is the only thing to break the silence.

“She’s so little,” he chokes out, “It must have hurt her so bad.” His tears finally fall as his fingers hover near the baby’s ears. 

Kyle presses himself against Simon’s side, “Oh, sweetheart. She’s alright, just look at how happy she is to be with you now.”

“Le dolió más a Kyle than it did her, and he just held her through the whole thing.”

Simon immediately remembers all the times he’s held his baby girl as she’s gotten her shots, how she’s squirmed and cried til she was purple in the face, and he takes another stuttering breath, “What if it makes her scared of jewelry, what if she comes to associate it all with pain?”

You can’t help but smile a little at the stark differences of the picture before you. Simon’s big frame hunches over the baby and his large, scarred hands gently hold her, his face growing ruddy as more tears fall and he starts to sniffle. Meanwhile Bug is wiggling away happily as she lays against the warmth of his thighs, little fists swinging around, feet kicking excitedly at the sound of Simon’s voice. 

“I think she’ll be glad she won’t have to heal those piercings as an adult,” you say, carefully wiping his tears away. 

Simon chuckles at your comment, taking a tissue from Kyle to clean up his nose, “Yeah, I suppose it is easier now since she’s still sleeping on her back.”

“Plus think of all the jewelry we’ll get to buy her as she grows, toda chipleada.”

Simon gives a full laugh at that, his hands returning to bicycling Bug’s legs. His chest moves with the deep breaths he finally allows himself, his little girl’s infectious smile catching on his face too. What a beautiful, softhearted man he is. He turns to give you each a kiss on the forehead as you and Kyle lean against him, “I’ll have to start tucking away some more money for that then.”

By the time he’s bringing Bug down to the ground to get her moving and playing with her toys, his tears have stopped. A few sniffles pop up every now and then, but he’s smiling, his big, brown eyes warm with love as he plays with her. Simon slowly moves to lay down next to her, mimicking her as she lays on her tummy, his head resting against his folded arms. His eyes flick to her ears every now and then, as if he’s trying to keep an eye out for a potential reaction. But the more pressing matter turns out to be how hard her little hands grab at his face, pulling at his lip until he’s giggling too. He doesn’t flinch a single time. He never will, not with his loved ones. They’re the people he trusts with his entire being. 

~

Johnny’s the next one to come home, arriving just a couple of hours later. He comes in the door to find you’re all working on setting up lunch: Kyle is on table duty and sets out drinks, you’re finishing up shoving doritos into the sandwiches, and Simon is still in the living room with baby Bug. Johnny smiles so big his face hurts a little. There are few things he loves as much as just seeing his little family. He could have the single worst day at work, but coming home to yall? That fixes his entire world. 

He stands by the door, where he can see all of you, and throws his arms out, “My loves, my dearest ones, I am home.” 

You all turn to smile at him. Normally, you’d all come up to greet him with a kiss. It’s a cute little ritual he’s come to love. But you’re all understandably occupied, so it’s his turn to make rounds. He steps to you and Kyle in the kitchen first, pulling you both into his arms so he can place light, lingering kisses to your mouths.

“Feeling your lips against mine once again has righted the world,” his big declarations of love will never truly end, but yall well know just how ecstatic he is to be home again. He’s quick to steal a couple of chips from you, shoving them into his mouth before you can reprimand him. Kyle receives a quick swat to his bum and he chases after Johnny a couple of steps, mirth lighting both their faces.

Johnny jogs over to join Simon on the floor, giving him a careful kiss as well.

“Our sweet Bug, trying so hard to roll. What a perfect little-”

And you know he’s clocked it. The sunshine gleaming off her little studs catches his eye.

“What’s this?” he rises back to his feet, eyes darting to each of your faces.

 Simon is the first to try to address his concern, “She’s alright, love. Watch, she’s moving about like nothing happened.”

“No. No. She’s too small to be dealing with this,” Johnny’s pacing the room, hand in his hair as his eyes continue to bounce between your faces. He keeps looking down at his baby girl, the little gold in her ears still shining, her happy little babbling only stopping as she tries to pull Simon’s finger into her mouth. And still, Johnny paces. 

 “It’s perfectly safe for her age, and the shop was of the highest quality,” Kyle says, stepping into the living room as Johnny continues to wear a track into the carpet. The technical reassurance has him pausing for a moment, the hand clenched in his hair relaxing a fraction. 

“But why?” Johnny’s voice climbs a little higher. He’ll never shout at any of you, but the emotion has to come out somehow. “She’s so young. This could have waited.”

More and more questions and rationalizations sprout from his mouth as his pacing picks back up. He brings up his sisters, he brings up his ma. None of them got piercings until they were much older. Then they could pick what they wanted and where. He briefly mentions consent, worried that this means he’s also overstepped as a father. And at one point he just says the word “baptism” and lets out a long groan. Still, he paces. His eyes turn electric with the sheer need to understand. He’s spiraling.

“Johnny, it’s cultural,” you cut through his rambling. It stops him in his tracks. 

“Cultural?”

You give him a nod, and his shoulders ease down from their tense clench. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so? We’ll have so many cute options for her once they heal,” he says with a smile once again adorning his face, plopping down to join Simon and Bug. “Is there a sandwich for me too, or should I make my own?”

 You let out a breathless laugh, the boys look up at you from the floor, smiles toothy and proud.

Kyle covers his face with his hands for a moment, mumbling something to himself before going back into the kitchen, “Yeah, we already have one for you, you brat.”

~

When Price arrives home, he lingers by the door for just a moment, taking in all the sounds of his family chattering and giggling away. He’ll never say it out loud, at least not unless he’s directly asked, but the sound alone of all of you happy and healthy and safe rejuvenates him, adds another 5 years to his life every time. He smiles a little to himself as he puts his shoes into the rack, mindful of where he stores his pack too. You’ve been kind enough to help figure out a system to keep all their shit straight and easily accessible for coming and going, and he tries to reinforce it so much with the other boys that he’s not about to fuck it up.

He’s still smiling as he joins the rest of you in the living room. Price is expecting the usual big smiles and lunging for hugs, but instead, he’s met with all of you trying to talk over each other. Kyle’s on the floor with Simon, both with a hand to help Bug sit up, and you and Johnny are shoving and trying to push the other behind. He can make out Johnny saying the word “cultural” over and over again, but the rest is jumbling together. 

Price raises a single hand, immediately silencing the room, “You can all explain what exactly is going on, one at a time, but first I will make my rounds.” 

He makes his way around the room, carefully bending for a kiss from each of you. Truly, of all the rules yall have put in place, this is one of Price’s favorites, the greeting smooches for everyone when they come in the door. It gives yall a chance to reconnect, and it really helps him settle back into the peace of his role as a father and partner. He gets to focus on his family in these moments, and he wouldn’t trade that for the fucking world.

As he picks Bug up to give her her own little smooch, the commotion starts again, making him raise his hand once more. He looks over his sweet little girl, taking in her excited little noises and smiling in return.

“Gold looks beautiful on you, Bug,” he murmurs as he gives her another smooch, enjoying the little squealing his facial hair causes. 

You let out a little whoop and the rest of the boys give a joyous little cheer as well, immediately launching into how they can use this new development to best spoil their precious Bug. And that’s all there is to it. At least in that moment.

Later on, as you’re all getting ready for bed, you notice Price is still in the nursery. He’s messing with the baby monitor, turning it on and off a couple of times to check the battery, bringing it in as close to the crib as he can. All he needs to do is tap on it to check the mic to complete a full system check. And just as you’re about to call him to bed, he does just that. He turns at the sound of your chuckle, his face so pink you know it’s spread all the way down his neck.

“You bought the top-of-the-line monitor, remember, corazon? Todo ese dinero on fancy walkie-talkies,” you press the words against his chest as he holds you close.

“Can never be too sure.”

A couple of hours later, you’re trying to untangle yourself from the too-warm cuddle puddle and all the entangled legs when you notice Price is no longer in bed. But you hear it before you get too far in your search for him, his gravelly voice humming a song through the baby monitor. 

You walk into the nursery to spot him on the big rocking chair, his legs up and reclined as possible, Bug sleeping against his bare chest. 

“She’s wounded,” he croaks as you run your fingers through his hair, “she needs her daddy to heal.” 

You don’t bring attention to the way his voice is choked up with tears, “Claro que sí, papi.”

“You were her age when you got yours?”

“I was younger.”

“And it didn’t hurt?”

“Never.”

He goes quiet, relishing the feeling of her little back rising and falling under his hand as she breathes.

“Can we take her to the guest room? Sleep with her? At least for tonight?” his nervousness seeps into his voice as he asks.

You grab the baby monitor with you as you walk him towards the guest room, just so the boys don’t panic when they wake up. Thank god yall regularly maintain the guest rooms, it makes settling the pillows and bedding much easier this late at night.

Price shakes his head when you motion towards the center of the bed for him to lay Bug down. Instead, he climbs in alongside you, keeping a sleeping Bug on his chest.

“Just for tonight,” he whispers, “Just for tonight.”

In the morning, Kyle’s voice wakes you, “I don’t know how Bug does it. She sleeps better through his snoring than any of us.”

AN: Once again, HUGE fucking shoutout to @mikichko for encouraging this and also giving us Price's precious line of "she's wounded, she needs her daddy to heal." I can't thank you enough, Kiko.