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#ghosts can be real and their job is to figure out who it is and why its still in the mortal helm
vanarobot · 2 years
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I made a little comic of Sparkle Dog and P.I. Platypus at work! And it got me wondering, ghosts even exist in their world? Are them trying to prove they exist? Its a fantastical world so makes sense that ghosts would be real, but that would make Sparkle and P.I. paranormal cops and that’s a big no. So I dont know, are them sensitive? Are them podcasters or youtubers? Too many questions, no aswers yet P.I. Platypus belongs to @mispronouncing-michaelangelo
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whore-era · 1 year
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1-800-GIRLS
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☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2
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phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.
monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?
uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..
oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.
ummm..
you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.
this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?
this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.
PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"
"does she sound hot?"
"well yeah, but—"
hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.
HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!
the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.
sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"
tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?
hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.
it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.
.......
.......
soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?
ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.
i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?
what thing? the hotline?
yeah..
well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.
okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?
yeah, if you want to.
sick.
ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.
so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?
you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.
specify what you mean by 'like'?
i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?
ehh...i guess.
c'mon. you can be honest with me.
well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.
oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?
uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.
what the fuck. seriously?
mhm, it's true.
shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.
well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.
holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?
19.
that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.
how 'bout you? how old are you?
21.
not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.
yeah? how?
considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.
ellie laughs.
how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?
you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.
well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?
i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.
is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?
uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—
all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.
so, how 'bout you sugar?
...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.
the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.
what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.
oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.
you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?
it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.
wednesday, 11:45am
sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.
you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.
"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.
"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.
handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.
slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"
leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.
saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)
thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.
no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.
sure will, babygirl.
the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.
sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.
you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.
but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.
fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.
the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.
luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.
ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.
the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.
saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?
hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.
you let out a soft laugh.
why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?
'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.
nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.
ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?
you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.
uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?
i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.
business? what business?
ah— well—
ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.
if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?
you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.
you can hear her laugh from the other end.
well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.
ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?
yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.
maybe you'll be my only customer.
i wouldn't complain.
speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?
trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.
what nicknames do your clients usually pick?
uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.
something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.
you could just put me down as ellie.
got it.
what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?
well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.
okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?
no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.
ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.
but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.
yeah? let's see about that.
saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??
you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.
no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.
you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.
as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.
so, how long were you and your ex together?
uhhhh, about 2 years.
ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?
ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.
why? who's asking?
well, i was just— uhh—
i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.
okay, okay. good to know.
how 'bout you?
nope. i'm single too.
seriously?? how?
i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.
i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—
can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.
ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.
hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.
oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.
maybe they're closer to you than you think.
your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.
i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.
oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)
hey.
hey. where's your usual greeting?
you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.
ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.
good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?
just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?
smoking, just finished some homework.
what class was it for?
uhhh, just this calculus class.
you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.
....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.
yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.
i'd be a terrible student.
i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.
you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.
what's your quiz on anyways?
energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.
i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.
okay, i can do that.
you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.
alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.
you think so?
i know so. you're such a smart girl.
there she goes again, praising you.
uh, th-thanks.
don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.
a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.
you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.
m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.
of course. always. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)
yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?
mhm, yes mister.
c'mon. beg, sugar.
please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.
ah, hell.
you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.
what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.
i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—
yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.
the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.
but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.
wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.
monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-
woah, woah, woah are you crying?
e-ellie?
yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.
today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—
you sniffle.
— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.
i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.
i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.
ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.
do you trust me?
....y-yea, of c-course. why?
i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?
okay.
first of all, where are you?
i-in my room, sitting at my desk.
okay. go lay down on your bed.
with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.
okay, i'm on my bed.
good. what are you wearing?
foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.
ellie, you really don't have to-
hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.
biting your lip, you fold.
i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.
that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?
okay.
good girl. now, what are you wearing?
uh.. a tank top and shorts.
cute. take them off.
gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.
done?
mhm.
good. so obedient.
i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.
rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.
how does it feel?
feels good.
bet it does.
ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.
now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.
as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.
doesn't it feel nice, baby?
mhm.
wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.
you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.
alright, take your panties off. slowly.
you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.
okay, they're off.
such a good girl, following my every command.
you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.
slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.
hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.
god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.
i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.
i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.
your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.
slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.
spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.
fuuuuuck.
i-
you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.
go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.
the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.
your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.
as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.
how does it feel, baby?
f-feels amazing, ellie.
you let out a low whimper.
i wish you were here.
me too, pup. me too.
you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.
i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.
you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.
rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?
you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.
your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?
mhm, yes, daddy.
good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.
with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.
i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—
you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.
your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.
oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—
arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.
look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.
that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.
god, i made a mess.
oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.
monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.
oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?
ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.
seriously? how?
i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-
wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?
oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.
i— uh— i have to go—
wait! sugar! please. hear me out.
you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.
if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.
.....why?
i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.
you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.
listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.
....
i really hope you come.
the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.
tuesday, 2:50pm
ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.
looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.
as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.
there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.
walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.
"hi ellie, it's me."
pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3
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hypewinter · 2 months
Note
3 HC/AU Prompt Thingy (3)
1). Box Ghost hears he was powerful and feared I'm the Dan timeline, gets ripped
2). Jason, as a reverent can hit ectoplasm ghosts
3). Guys Night Out (choose whatever ghosts you want)
(I love making these and your the only one who writes for them, :))
Ok hear me out: Full DILF box ghost. Don't scroll away and just give me a second of your time ok?
Boxy gets swoll. Real swoll. His gimmick might still be dumb but now he's so strong that no one dares to point that out anymore. That being said, he is still the best dad ever to Boxed Lunch. I'm talking about helping her tie her shoes, being a willing participant in her tea parties, tucking her in at night, the works. He's such a good father that when Boxed Lunch asks for a super rare Orphan toy that was only ever distributed in Gotham, he immediately agrees to get it for her.
Johnny 13 hears about Box Ghost's little outing and invites himself along as he wants to get Kitty some new jewelry to make up for their last fight. Thus begins a wild night for Boxy and Johnny as they both have a heart to heart (now that Johnny 13 can't make fun of him for fear of being punted through a wall) plus they even bond over how much they love the women in their lives.
All is going well. The boys have done some fun stuff around the city, gotten up to a little mischief, and even picked up Johnny's apology jewelry. The only thing left is Boxed Lunch's toy. As they're scouring an abandoned warehouse full of discontinued toys that's when Jason drops it. He'd been getting reports of strange occurrences all night from his men and he'd finally been able to track it down to this warehouse. Of all the things Jason anticipated, it was not two weird looking metas going through boxes. But nevertheless he has a job to do.
He aims his gun at the two metas and demands they step away from the boxes. They don't. Why would they? They're ghosts, this human can't hurt them. Sure enough when Jason eventually fires at their knees after a couple of warning shots, the rubber bullets go right through. Jason is shocked to say the least. And now his mind is whirring a mile a minute trying to figure out how those two just did that. Meta powers? Hidden tech? How is he going to deal with this? He doesn't want to go through the embarrassment of calling for backup.
Johnny 13 on the other hand, is pretty peeved this guy won't leave them alone. He's ruining their night out! So he decides to scare him. Maybe that will make him leave. So Johnny gets right up in Jason's fac- er mask and lets out a pretty impressive ghostly howl if he does say so himself. Except instead of running away, Jason instinctively punches him. In the nose. And it hurts. A lot.
So now Johnny is reeling in pain, Jason realizes he can take care of these guys the old fashioned way and Boxy has finally found the Orphan toy. "Oh no!" I hear you say. "The fight of the century between Boxy and Jason is about to go down!" Actually no. Not really.
Box Ghost has been teaching Boxed Lunch about conflict resolution recently and he is not about to let his actions contradict his words. So he explains the situation to Jason. Jason for his part is a little miffed but understanding. You're just trying to be a good father. I get it. Besides these toys are just gonna collect dust in here anyways. Oh but you do have to return the jewelry. *Sad (and pained) Johnny 13 noises*
Jason kinda feels bad for the whole, punching Johnny in the nose thing (even though it was totally his fault) so he offers to take them to find non-stolen jewelry for Kitty instead. Thus the boys night continues! Now with extra shenanigans.
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mistydeyes · 8 months
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Hey, Hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are.
Can I request a headcanon about 141 with a female reader who likes to draw and sketch a lot? Platonic ofc.
thanks anon, hope you have a good ____ as well <3 i used to be a sketch/artist girl so this was so cute to write :)
an artist’s touch
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summary: When you aren’t on the field, you are an avid artist of multiple mediums. It isn’t brought up much but once it is, the 141 has plenty of questions (and even some requests).
pairing: Taskforce 141 x platonic!fem!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of blood/violence
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tbh when you first joined, they didn’t know much about your hobby (being part of a specialized task force is busy yk?)
but it was revealed when you finally were granted leave and you discussed your plan upon your return home
“my first stop is going to be to cass art :)”
immediate cacophony of “you draw?” “you’re an artist?” “have you ever drawn us before!”
after a few minutes you quelled all of their questions (“yes, yes, and i literally joined 4 months ago and haven’t had access to a pencil”)
ghost comments, “make sense why you’re so good at stabbing people”
“god you’re so morbid ghost”
when back on base, you were shy to show you’re talents but you eventually relaxed the more you were with your teammates
eventually you began to bring out your sketchbook or paints out when you were relaxing after a mission or training session
once in a while, someone will tell you your work is amazing but if you’re in the zone, they’ll leave you alone
one time price accidentally left his mug too close to your paint cup and you ended up swirling your brush into it
queue a long lecture about how you should pay more attention (but who am i kidding that coffee is so strong he probably didn’t notice)
you humored soap and drew what you thought the real simon riley looked like
ghost snuck a peek and one of the drawings was surprisingly accurate
speaking of which, you may or may not have used your teammates as drawing references but you’ll never tell
gaz just has such angular features which makes drawing his figure so easy
mans looks like a walking drawing figure
it’s relaxing to let your mind wander and hands do the work as you fill a page or canvas
painting at home in your studio helps you to unwind from the grueling job
once, you sketched a few designs for gaz when he mentioned wanting to get a tattoo
“i don’t know gaz this is permanent” “i’ve seen your sketches and they’re amazing! just send me a few designs”
he landed on a cool watercolor piece you had made months ago
after your design, you would all joke about how you would redesign ghost’s tattoo
“Lt. that shit is heinous, just let me draw you a coverup” “no.”
while you don’t accept commissions anymore, you did gift your captain a painting of his favorite secluded lake scenery
he has it hanging in the foyer of his elegant flat
while you don’t really exchange gifts, everyone knows what they would get you
ghost has taken special attention to the brand of pencil you use and the gouache paintings that litter your quarters
everyone likes to joke w you on the comms
“hey do you think you could paint a picture with the blood of your enemies?” “jesus! soap…but yes i could”
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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬.
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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a new life in a seemingly nice town sounds appealing, doesn’t it? But what happens when that nice town has a dark past; and some things you think are real, are just a figment of your imagination…or are they?
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: modern setting, small mention of dying, angst, cliffhanger.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this whole idea came about from the books ‘scary stories to tell in the dark’ (which were my fav as a kid), it’s so different from my usual stuff so i hope you enjoy the little switch up (: thank you to my lovely betas @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @stveharringtn <3 totally set this up for a part two with possible smut, maybe? in the wise words of Dolly: ‘give us your ghost cock, Edward!’
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k
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The red and green leaves crunch under the soles of your mary janes as you walk through forest hills trailer park, your new place of residence. You send a quick message to the group chat that you have with your cousins, who you're on your way to meet at a new bar in town. A slight chill runs through your body when you make it to the rickety bench bus stop that sits desolated in front of the trailer park entrance. 
You had moved to Hawkins a couple months ago on a whim, to be near your cousins who you’ve had a close relationship with since you were a toddler, despite only seeing them once a year or on the occasional social media posts. You had moved with only a year of savings and nothing else to your name. Luckily your aunt had a realtor friend who helped you buy a trailer, which was about the only thing with a cheap enough down payment for you to afford. You found a job at Hawkins middle school as a teacher's aide to Hailey Sinclare who you've become good friends with in the short time span.
The breeze picks up, kicking you out of your reverie and making you wiggle uncomfortably as the old wood digs into your black nylon tights, you lift each thigh to look for any snags in the fabric but before you can fully asses them, you hear footsteps and the loud crunch of leaves moving closer towards you– a gasp leaves your lips as you whip your head around looking for other signs of life. The sun is setting on the horizon and the only thing that surrounds you are the leafless scads of trees from the eerie woods.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” The voice of a young man utters from behind you, seemingly coming out of nowhere. 
“Oh, um its- its fine.” You murmur as he comes into view, you haven't seen him around but that's not saying much considering you've only moved here two months ago.
His long shoulder length waves sway with the breeze, and his big brown eyes seem to bore into your soul, making you swallow harshly before your head lowers. You begin staring at your black shoes, checking them over for scuffs, as if that was something you actually cared about.
“So where are you headed, lookin’ so pretty?” He asks with a half smirk, all the while placing his jean jacket that is embellished with an array of patches and buttons over the bench. Most of the bands were ones your dad listened to so in turn you grew to love. You were surprised to not find one single patch or button of a more modern band, but figured he must love the old stuff, that’s respectable. 
“I’m meeting my cousins at some bar in town.” You say with a gesture of your hand in the wrong direction, not yet accustomed to where town is or where the leaving hawkins sign sits, which happens to be in opposite directions. 
He smirks as if he realizes you don't belong here, and a feeling of embarrassment heats your soft cheeks. 
“Sounds fun.” Is all he says as he kicks at some rocks and leaves with his dirty reeboks. 
“Where are you headed?” You ask, feeling a pull to keep the conversations going with this stranger. 
“Oh ya know? Wherever.” Is all he divulges with a shrug of his shoulders, you nod in faux understanding, even if a million questions begin to rack your brain. Maybe he wants to appear mysterious, he wouldn't be the first guy to try that out on you.
He pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and fishes a lighter out of his pocket, lighting the tobacco stick before offering it to you. You decline, a part of you is surprised he doesn't vape like the majority of today’s youth. The smell brings a sense of nostalgia to you, remembering the times you’d climb into your grandpa's lap when you were a kid while he smoked his cigarettes and drank his coffee. 
“What's your name?” He asks as his eyes continue to graze over you. 
You tell him, but find yourself unable to meet his eyes. Something about his big chocolate orbs make goosebumps travel along your already chilled skin.
“And yours?” You question with a tremulous edge. 
“Eddie.” He answers before flicking the half smoked cigarette into the overgrown grass, beneath your feet.
“You live here, Eddie?” You ask curiously. 
“Sure do, lot 15, been here almost all my life.” He hums, before a vibration in your back pocket startles you out of your stupor.
You quickly pull it out, smiling at the text message your cousin Bella sent you. 
“Whoa…what is that?” The boy you now know as Eddie, says with an astonished lilt. 
“What’s what?” You shriek as if he was gonna point out some type of bug species that had somehow found its way into your hair or on your body.
“That thing in your hands.” He says pointedly.
“Oh, uh this is my phone?” You can't help the questioning tone that slips past your lips. 
“Phone? Like you can call people on that?” He still sounds astonished as if he's never seen an iphone before, which living in this century is close to impossible; unless he was amish but from the look of him, you found that highly unlikely. 
Before you could answer his unusual question, the loud brakes of a bus pulls up alongside the bench. Eddie quickly stands, throwing you one more questioning look before he begins walking towards the open doors. 
“Well, see ya around sweetheart.” He announces, before throwing you a wink and stepping up onto the platform of the bus that was headed in the opposite direction in which you needed to go. 
“See ya.” You murmur back with a smile. 
The wind picks up as the bus begins to drive off, leaving you to cross your arms over your exposed chest. Something out of your peripheral captures your attention, and you quickly realize Eddie had left his vest thrown over the bench. You yank it off and stand up, ready to run towards the bus to retrieve it. But the bus’s tail lights can now barely be made out in the fog, too far for you to catch up with on foot. You huff and throw the vest over your frame, the added layer brings a desired warmth to your body. You sit back down, the bench squeaks underneath you as the sun begins settling deeper over Hawkins, bringing with it an unsettling feeling to your gut.
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The bus pulled up ten minutes after Eddie had left. You made it to the bar to meet your cousins an hour late but had a great time with them nonetheless. Drinks and shots were passed around, you had danced your ass off having the time of your life, something that hasn't happened in what feels like forever. 
Being closer to the city, you were able to take an uber back home all the while Eddie’s vest continued to adorn your figure. His brown eyes, ringed fingers and boyish smile stayed in the back of your mind the entire night, and a part of you couldn’t wait to return it to him. 
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You wake up the next morning on a mission, drinking your cup of joe and eating your avocado toast, before you shower and slip on a pretty flowy dress with your platform doc martens, hair styled and light makeup applied. 
You realize as you walk the trailer park with his vest in hand, that he lives on the other side of you. Lot 15 comes into view and you see an old red truck that looks like it hasn’t been driven in years, parked next to a new silver prius. The steps are falling apart and the couch sitting on the porch sags, with stains and cigarette burns. 
You knock on the dingy front door, before you bring your slumped shoulders up while pushing your chest out in an attempt to look more confident, even as your heart thumps behind your rib cage.
A middle aged woman answers the door with a small smile—
“Hello, can I help you with something?” She asks sweetly. 
The beep of a machine captures your attention and you find yourself looking past the ladies shoulder into the living room, where an older man is lying in a hospital bed, sitting in front of an old television set that's playing cowboy westerns.
“Yeah, um Is Eddie here?” You ask timidly.
“I’m sorry, who?” The woman's eyes are wide as she looks you over, eyes almost as big as saucers when she notices the vest in your arms.
“Eddie; long hair, brown eyes, rings on his fingers, owns this vest.” You say as you lift the gramnet closer towards her, revealing the big dio patch that’s sewn on in the back, 
“I’m sorry, is this some kind of joke?” She says with a bewildered expression.
“A joke? Why would this be a joke? Is Eddie here or not?” You slightly snap as your patience begins to wear thin.
“Sweetheart, Eddie Munson died in an earthquake thirty seven years ago.”
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mudisgranapat · 2 months
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FitnessInfluencer!Reader x GymBro!Ghost
so i’ve recently really gotten into going to the gym and i can’t stop thinking about Ghost working out and reader being an annoying influencer that is always recording at the gym. the last thing he needs is a camera in his face when he is trying to work out and de-compress from his deployment.
After finally finding a 24 hour gym, you get your things ready to film your content. Your youtube channel is one of the most popular nowadays, and it’s the platform where you make most of your videos. Most of them teach people workout series, ranging from stuff they can do at home, hardcore exercises and even a step to step guide on how to use each gym equipment, so newbies don’t get scared of training for the first time by themselves. However, sometimes, you do some vlogging on the side, showing your daily routine and other things, like skincare.
You figure 3 am is a good time to go to the gym and record - no one is at training by then and your schedule is already fucked anyways. Not having an office or regular work hours has its ups and downs, but at least you are in charge of own routine, since you make a surprisingly good amount of money from your videos.
You take your own time, making a protein smoothie (and obvioulsy recording it, as you had a paid partnership with the supplement’s brand) and writing down your ideas for the video you want to do today. You stick to a simple “leg day” vlog, typing on your phone what machines and reps you want to do.
Choosing a simple purple top and matching leggings, you make your way towards the gym on your Range Rover, Stanley cup filled with water on the cup holder. You roll your eyes as you make a turn and can feel the water dripping out of the cup. You make a note to yourself to bring a water bottle the actually works next time and keep it off camera, so the useless cup can just sit on frame for aesthetic purposes while your record.
If you had to point out one thing you hated about your job, it would be having to keep up with all the (in your opinion, useless) trends, so you could reach a bigger audience. At the end of the day, it was about making money, although you loved how your content got to inspire people to be more active. If it meant you had to carry a metal 40oz lead poisoned cup with you for a couple of hours, then so be it.
As soon as you park your car at the gym’s empty parking lot, you pull out your vlog camera, not noticing the single black truck parked in the far corner, under a tree.
Sometimes you wonder if you would hate your “vlog persona” if you met her in real life. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, trying to get the best take, constantly looking for better lighting. What looks good on camera, in real life, just looks painfully awkward sometimes, specially when you are talking to an audience that isn’t even there. You push those thoughts to the back of your head, as you slide your card at the gym’s card reader, opening the doors.
“Anyways, guys. I know it sounds crazy right?” You make your way into the gym, re-recording the introduction at least 3 times so you know you’ll have good material to edit later. “Training at 3 a.m. I don’t even know if it’s technically morning or night right now.” You joke to the camera. “Let me know in the comments if I should start the videos with ‘Good morning’ or ‘Goodni’-“ a hand suddenly grabs the camera from your hand, holding it right above your head. You stare at the man who seemed to materialise out of the shadows.
“How about ‘Goodbye’.” He says, and you barely have time to register his sarcasm as he slams your camera on the floor, breaking it in pieces. You stand there, frozen, while the man swings his duffel bag over his shoulders and heads out of the gym.
When you finally regain your senses, he is long gone, and you’re left wondering to yourself, not only who he is, but also who does he think he is. You barely had time to register what he looked like, simply recalling we was well over 6ft tall and build like a fucking tank. But regardless of his built, if he believes, even for a second, that he can do something like that and just walk away unscathed, he is dead wrong.
You can’t wait to see him again.
A.N: wrote this with my eyes literally closing, but i just couldn’t get it out of my head (sorry for any mistakes, def not proofread). hopefully it’s not complete shit. let me know if you want to see more of this! i could see this becoming either a short series or at least having one more part. Let me know if you want to be tagged if this has a part 2 :)
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writers-potion · 3 months
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Dark Fantasy Prompts ☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐
1. The grave keeper: Write your story from the perspective of a cemetery caretaker. This caretaker newly moved to a small town with little to no money and needed a job immediately. The only available one happened to be taking care of the cemeteries. During a shift, your protagonist witnesses supernatural events.  
2. The empty tombs: Write about a group of young people who decide to have a party in a cemetery and discover that all tombs are dug out and empty.
3. A sorcerer’s curse: Write about a sorcerer who was cursed. Although they have the ability to do magic, they are unable to lift the curse themselves. Hence, they embark on a journey to find another sorcerer/sorceress who can lift the curse for them.
4. The monsters that come at night: Write about a little kid who has nightmares & sleep problems such as sleep paralysis. This kid starts having difficulty differentiating dreams from reality but is convinced that the monsters they see in their nightmares are real.  
5. A haunted sailor: Write about a sailor that is haunted by the ghosts of his past crew who mysteriously disappeared.
6. A siren’s call: What if sirens were real and had the ability to make captains crash/sink their boats and their crew? Write from the perspective of a young sailor who survives a crash and interacts with the sirens.
7. The little boy called who called wolf: Write about an isolated village that gets attacked by wolves. Those who are attacked and do not die become werewolves and soon there is an epidemic of werewolves.
8. If she says so: Write about a woman who has the ability to make people do anything she wants them to. Everyone around her is aware of her powers and hence feel the need to walk on eggshells around her.
9. Come and serve the devil: Write about a girl who moves to a small town. After she has settled in and starts looking for a job, she is hired as a waitress in the town’s most popular bar. However, the owner of the bar, unbeknownst to her, is the devil himself.  
10. Let’s trade hearts: Write about a person purposefully casting a spell on someone else in the hopes of switching bodies with them.
11. Be careful what you wish for: Write about a person who gets into an argument/fight and says something they regret. The next day that person finds out that their “wish” came true.
12. The mark of the cursed: There is a curse spreading around town and no one knows why it is happening. The pattern goes as follows: One day, a mark of a specific shape appears on a person’s skin indicating that they are now cursed. Your characters have to figure out a way to break the curse (as well as why this is happening to them) before it comes true. If they don’t figure this out in time, the curse will become irreversible.
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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Here is a list of traits Silver has shown in the games, Sonic Channel and other Sonic Team made content:
Righteous, has a strong sense of justice and is driven to make things right
Kind-hearted, puts other people’s happiness before his own and will drop his mission to help others, is motivated by his desire to protect smiles, wants to use his powers not for himself, but to help others.
Extremely Determined
Optimistic and Hopeful, believes there’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up, inspires hope in the people he works with in Forces, the final story of Sonic 06 and when he helps Elise through her performance anxiety
Pure, has a “sincere, unpretentious and kind” demeanor and wears his heart on his sleeve, this genuineness and purity gives him an “enduring charm” that is one of the biggest things his friends, particularly Blaze, enjoy about him and makes others want to support him
Forthright, is very direct and frank with people and has a straight to the point mentality, is straightforward in his actions and thinking
Earnest and blunt to the point of naivety, expects people to believe and cooperate with him when he says he’s from the future, hides very little and is so honest that he announces himself when attacking Sonic
Not trusting post 06, doesn’t give Sonic a Chaos Emerald until he proves he’s real in Sonic Generations and is the most suspicious of Dodon Pa
Snide and Sarcastic, sneers at Eggman’s theme park in Sonic Colors and has a snotty attitude towards anyone he can one up, remarks “What am I doing?” when going with Amy
Brash, has rude/informal mannerisms and can be abrasive, particularly to people who are not his allies
Juvenile, described as young and immature by his creator Shun Nakamura, this immaturity ties into many aspects of his character as well as his purity but is also the source of his snotty attitude and rude behavior, supposedly he doesn’t like green peppers which is the Japanese equivalent of children not liking broccoli 
Focused, proactive and practical mindset, seen particularly throughout Sonic Forces
Focused on his goals, Does not care what the plan is called in Forces, only that it works and when asked about his favorite race item he says that he likes Jade Ghost because “It lets him disappear and focus on the race”
Inquisitive and proactive, questioned others about how the world was destroyed in the Iblis future his whole life, fought Iblis to try and clear the sky himself, spent most of Team Sonic Racing cracking down on Dodon Pa and Eggman, reads into “Ancient Wisdom” in the good future
Sharp and intuitive, Figures out how to revive Sonic in 06, sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details, does successful detective work in Sonic 06 and Team Sonic Racing, intuits Blaze trying to control great powers when seeing them for the first time, has solved various puzzles and mysteries by himself, “knows a lot” according to Sonic in Silver’s Sonic Channel introduction story
Skilled and Crafty, skillfully accomplishes various tasks during his Town Missions in Sonic 06, turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao in Sonic Rivals 2, Vector refers to him and Blaze as professionals in the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview, has had jobs as a delivery boy, a figure skater, a “genius” skating coach and a butler
Trains off-screen and makes steady efforts to improve his abilities, seems to be self-taught in his skills 
Sometimes takes everything on himself
Warrior with a warrior mentality, described as a warrior, enjoys fighting and will fight his friends for fun, fought and struggled for half his life in the Iblis future, values bravery and facing things head on, dislikes cowardice and indirect tactics, can endure “pain beyond description” and is undeterred by injuries (Shadow’s infamous kick to the head only made him mad)
Competitive and proud/confident in his abilities, has a smug attitude about his abilities and can get competitive over something as simple as handling Orbot and Cubot, clashes with Blaze the first time(s) they meet because of this
Headstrong and Confrontational, confronts Infinite alone because of this, gets offended when Blaze she calls him “weak” and treats him like an amateur 
Very Emotional, tends to rush in and deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings and start confrontations because he gets heated, his passion drives him forward but this same passion can cause him to be rash as his actions are dominated by his feelings
Hot Tempered and impatient, can be easily angered and gets frustrated or indignant when things don’t go his way, can get annoyed at things that get in the way or impatient with things that aren’t to the point, his sense of justice causes righteous indignation at great injustices, his temper can be quite similar to Blaze’s
Has Aggressive energy in both his demeanor and body language, generally has confident or determined expressions, often makes fists, punches things when he's frustrated and gets up by punching the ground
Can be Ruthless, has resorted to playing possum, sneaking past Soleanna guards, robbing people and killing to accomplish his goals
Courageous to the point of being Reckless, puts other’s safety before his own, instantly reacts to protect those around him when attacked in Sonic Comic, Instantly battle ready when surprised in Generations, fought against Iblis and its monsters from a very young age growing up in an extremely hazardous devastated future, both values bravery and dislikes cowardice, recklessly went off to face Infinite on his own and is noted to not back down even in the face of his mighty power, will sacrifice himself without a second thought if necessary
His way of life inspires others and makes them want to cheer him on, this even extends to real life as the illustration at the top this post inspired everyone in the office to give him a high five that day
Cannot lie but can change the subject
Doesn’t know how to explain/express himself at times
Scratches his head with his index finger when processing his thoughts
Feels joy and anger loudly but is quiet in sadness and contemplation
Gets rowdy, riled up and puts his all into things he’s feeling but is very low and quiet when something is on his mind or he’s feeling down(He’s totally autistic, this is autistic volume)
Has a mischievous side
Like apples, ate apple flavored rations in the Iblis future
Deeply appreciates peace, prosperity and people‘s smiles, beautiful vistas and people living peacefully leave him breathless
His desire for peace is seemingly driven by strong empathy for both the people and environment around him, blue skies make him feel at peace, natural beauty and people living prosperously takes his breath away, desolate or destroyed areas sadden and upset him, he can’t help but smile when he makes others smile and can’t stand to see the suffering in his destroyed futures
Has a very quiet, introspective and empathetic side (he deeply and quietly reflects on the morality of his mission throughout 06 and quietly takes in everything about Elise’s past)
AB blood type meaning that he's dual natured and adaptable based on the situation
Is a Taurus
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feelo-fick · 6 months
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WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!
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"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."
This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA
still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )
au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!
the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.
unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?
meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?
that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!
... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.
WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)
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verysium · 6 months
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『02』 原神: genshin impact recs
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魈: xiao
preta by @itoshisoup
"People think that ghosts are born exclusively of resentment, but they can also be born of love. Between those driven by resentment and those driven by love, which do you think cling most strongly to their suffering?" Xiao replies without pause, his gaze unfocused yet fixed upon something you cannot see. "Love." After a yaksha saves your life on the Plains of Guili, you insist on joining him in his war against the evils of Liyue. As the two of you encounter hungry ghosts and resentful spirits, you learn about the ones haunting him. notes: incomplete but intricately woven together; heavy emphasis on chinese culture, wuxia/xianxia genres; if you have watched any historical cdrama, you will like this fic; xingqiu and chongyun are wrapped up into the dynamic; xiao wishes to protect you for centuries; him and his paradoxes; not being strong enough to be considered invincible but still strong enough to try
公子: childe
thin ice by @falconcoast
childe is that senior frat boy on teyvat university’s campus. the one who majors in economics because he’s on scholarship to play sports. the one who is way too loud and you can hear him all the way across campus. the one who’s daddy’s money rich because he’s already sponsored, even while just in the ncaa. the one who manages to get everyone to swoon over him.  oh, right. and your favorite title for him: the one hockey captain who hogs all of your free time to skate after lessons because he always steals it.  all you want to do is do your job and teach skating lessons to the kids to keep your mind off the year-old mess with your figure skating, maybe even get an hour of skating in afterwards as a reward. that is, until the hockey coach sits you down and tells you that surprise! you’re the new team manager for liyue’s hockey team! ...it can’t be that hard to manage twenty or so boys and their captain, childe, right? spoilers: it absolutely is.  notes: wonderfully curated modern skating/hockey AU; childe is so american white boy in this; teucer being adorable; diluc and kaeya sibling dynamic is well-established; university and post-grad plans; figuring out your life and then working other people into it
国崩: scaramouche
tea screen by @after-witch
The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers?  notes: forced marriage and abuse; tea ceremony; sort of reminds me of the edo period; examination of womanhood within a patriarchal society; sexy, sad, and scary all at once; i pity the reader at the end; cycle of love and violence
a simple cup of tea by @after-witch
You have to be prepared and poised and perfect. But it’s hard to be all those things, even with the looming threat of your husband sitting next to you, when you’ve got a secret hidden underneath your clothes... notes: reader grapples with lust and objectification; unhealthy dynamic but portrayed realistically in an almost historical setting; reader is unable to separate her identity as wife apart from her husband; women being defined in the context of men; could be a social satire on traditional gender roles if you squint
love is a dog from hell by @itoshisoup
"A will is something you don't have. That's why you'll follow mine." notes: this fic is the reason why i do not think the concept of ownership in love would translate well into real life because it would be so self-destructive; reader struggles with aftermath of abuse and mistakes possession for protection; realistic depiction of unhealthy relationships; the fatui is exactly the dark criminal organization it is supposed to be; human trafficking and child sexual abuse; scaramouche is so goddamn funny i can't
钟离: zhongli
spoil of war by @bye-bye-sunbird
In the dead of night, you hear the sea calling your name. Sometimes the sound is as soft as a love song, gracing your skin in a gentle breeze that lures you to the seashore where the waves can finally lay claim on you. Other times, the sea strikes the land in a deafening, challenging roar. "Really now... How long do you think those mountains of his will stand in my way?" notes: accurate depiction of characters because archon war morax was genuinely terrifying; zhongli trying to deny his obsessive tendencies; rivalry with osial; reader is essentially sanctified as a symbol of innocent purity; imagine having two spiritual gods pine after you while you are helplessly stuck in the middle of their tug-of-war and simultaneously trying to mourn; that is basically the entire premise of this fic
迪卢克: diluc ragnvindr
the parent trap by @falconcoast
twelve years ago, you got married to a man who had swept you off your feet in a little under two years. diluc was like a prince out a of storybook; effortlessly charming, strikingly handsome, and a kind man. you were supposed to live happily ever after at that winery, running a wedding planning empire, having a family, and growing old together.  until it all goes off script with a divorce. flash forward, and the only remnant of diluc that is with you is your daughter, dawn. the only piece of you that remains with diluc is your other daughter and dawn’s twin sister, phoenix.  it isn’t until both of your children get you and your ex-husband in a bit of mess that you realize that maybe, just maybe, you still harbor feelings for diluc.  or maybe it’s the wine talking. notes: one of my favorite comfort fics; i am a sucker for second-chance romance; diluc and reader now older but still being the same bumbling idiots they were when young; at this point the children have more situational awareness than them; based on the original movie; treat yourself to a cup of tea and a friday night with this work and trust me life will be good
博士: il dottore
deus in absentia by @bound-in-parchment
The first time was a coincidence. The second time was a fluke. But the third time? You were starting to think it was fate. Or, more likely, a calculated trap. notes: at this point we can just scrap whatever mihoyo puts out and use this work as canon instead; the world building is so originally creative; this author must possess such a giant sexy brain; reader is basically adopted by dottore and forced to be his apprentice/assistant; idea of losing yourself to your own ambitions; slow-burn to the max; reader is oblivious to full extent of feelings until it is too late; tragic to the point i need a time machine to resurrect them
dream a little of me by @bound-in-parchment
Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. notes: soulmate trope but with the two most aromantic fools to ever exist; zandik drowns himself in the river of denial; comic dynamic between segments; music and failed dreams; reader actually has a backstory dark enough to match dottore's character; does not shy away from the uncomfortable and gritty aspects of trauma, abuse, and literal mental insanity
chemistry / magnum opus by @jessamine-rose
In the realm of science, love and insanity are closely intertwined mysteries. Disillusioned with the world, you had long forgotten its beauty until the wise doctor gives you a change of perspective. notes: by far the most accurate characterization of akademiya zandik; he hates you then hates himself then hates the world for allowing your paths to cross; treats you as an objective experiment but then wonders why he's suddenly humanizing you; slow-burn; zandik is selfish and machiavellian and somehow you fit into that equation
the only hope i had was the freedom of death by your hands that held me together by @tiens-letters
It was a burden. The weight of the power you hold in all the land. Any human who has enough ambition would dare to covet it and any god even given divine powers would lust after it. You were powerful, able to end civilizations and make a new world altogether. Many would think that you are a sovereign being but you too are limited to mortality than what most would believe. You were human with a blessing of a god and you felt cursed and dirty. notes: honestly the ending made me so mad but take it as a good sign; basically entails the circumstances that would drive dottore to become somewhat capable of love; what is done cannot be undone; zandik finally meeting someone who is wiser and more depressed than him; deluding himself into thinking he could ever be domestically normal; somewhat idolizes/idealizes reader; themes of betrayal and misunderstanding
富者: pantalone
house cat / alea iacta est by @jessamine-rose
Your entire life has been a gilded cage. The gods refuse to grant your greatest wish, and so you have resigned yourself to the will of destiny. But what happens when the red string of fate is severed and replaced with the silver chains of the Regrator? notes: liyue nobility; dishonest business and financial deals; reader is a cat hybrid but i didn't notice until part two because the plot was so good; pantalone is the mastermind behind all his interactions with reader; heavy manipulation and orchestrations; wolf in sheep's clothing; alternate ending found here
隊長: il capitano
herbarium / fairytale / forget-me-not / astilbe by @jessamine-rose
You had long given up on wishes and happy endings. After what you believed to be the end of your tragic story, you resigned yourself to a shadow of a life with only your books and flowers to keep you company…until the vestiges of Windblume brought forth a mysterious stranger and a new ending for your dark fairytale. notes: capitano being the strong stoic protector of a delicately fragile reader; manipulation is so subtle and that is what makes it alarming; somewhat stirred my daddy issues because he is so parental; reader struggles between accepting his love versus hating him for taking away her personal agency; flower motifs
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siriusleee · 1 year
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midnight | part 1
Simon Riley x Reader Summary: He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely.
part one | part two | part three
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"Can you do something for me?”
His words freeze you - your fingers barely wrapped around your mug of lukewarm tea. The glow of the computer in the dark of your office illuminates him just enough to see his outline filling up the doorway.
“Excuse you?” Your voice cracks, and you cough to cover up the redness creeping up your chest.
Ghost doesn’t say anything else - instead he holds out something towards you. The light glints against the screen of the cell phone. Confused, you flip it over in your hands, trying to figure out why Ghost just handed you a cell phone.
“I need you to get the information off of it.”
“You know my rule, Ghost. You know I’m not your fucking personal IT department.”
“Just this once, love.”
He stares at you, eyes nearly expressionless. You know that he knows you can’t resist him calling you ‘love’ in that stupid fucking accent of his. He doesn’t move away from your desk, doesn’t take the phone from your hands. His hands tuck into the pockets of his jacket - a stark sight of comfort against his tactical pants and baklava.
“Fine,” you say dropping the phone down beside your keyboard, “but I demand payment. I do have a job and a life outside of you, so if you want it done before I go on leave tomorrow, you’re paying up.”
“What do you want?”
“A coffee. Not one you made - I don’t want to drink battery acid. A real one from Starbucks or something.”
Ghost grumbles; you turn your eyes away from him and back to your work on the computer - Price’ll have your head if you don’t have everything squared away and finished before you go home tomorrow.
“Where the fuck am I supposed to get something like that at this time of night.”
You shrug, shifting in your chair so you can tuck your legs into the seat.
“Not my problem. You bring me payment, I’ll do it for you. Otherwise get out of my damn office.”
When he comes back with the largest possible Starbucks cup, you almost think about asking which Starbucks he held up to get a drink at the hour, but you get the feeling that he’s not in the mood for humor. When you take the cup from him, you already have the phone connected to your personal computer - unsure if there’s anything on there that he wouldn’t want multiple government agencies to see.
“There’s no nudes on here right? No sex tapes or anything?” You ask as he drops to the floor beside your chair, back pressed against the wall.
“Why do you need to know?” His voice is quiet - you can hear him trying to edge towards that monotone playfulness that he has - but there’s no force behind it tonight.
“Just making sure that I don’t accidentally see your dick - it’s not exactly the ideal way to see it is it? Anyway, is there anything I’m supposed to be looking for or do you just need everything put on a flash drive? I got a million of them around here. ”
“A flash drive is fine.”
It’s quiet except for the sounds of the wind outside, and Ghost breath behind his mask.
“You know-” you start, just to break the silence, “you could have taken this to like, the store you got it from, and they could have does this for you right.”
Ghost doesn’t speak for a moment - weighing his words before he does.
“I don’t trust random people.”
“So there is sex tapes on here. With who could it be so important that you have to make sure you save them from a dead phone?”
Your joking - teasing him; his silence makes you glance over at him. His head is leaning against the wall, eyes closed. He must know you’re looking at him because he answers you without moving.
“It has pictures of my family.”
His tone opens up a million questions, but gives you a million answers. You can hear the rest of his sentence, unspoken but loud enough to bounce around the walls of your small office. Don’t ask .
It doesn’t take long to finish transferring the files to the flash drive and hand it over to Ghost. He leans towards you, never leaving his spot on the floor.
“Is that everything?"
"Are you going to work here all night?"
"Are you going to stay here all night?"
You turn your chair around towards him, foot dropping down between his boots to stop yourself from spinning away from him.
"Nothing else to do around here."
You know he doesn't sleep much - the amount of times he's been in the same spot, the sound of your keyboard lulling him to sleep before you finally kicked him out so you could go to sleep is unfathomable. You sigh, pulling your foot back up into your chair, brushing against his calf as you do so.
"I'm almost done anyway, and I have to get some sleep before I catch my flight tomorrow. You want to watch a movie?"
He cracks one eye open at you.
"Is that a fucking line?"
You can't help it - the tone he asks it in makes you bark out a laugh.
"No, it's not a line. I'm just trying to be nice."
"It sounds like you're trying to lure me back to your bunk to get my pants off."
You roll your eyes as you switch off your computer, the office plunging into darkness.
"Ghost, if I wanted to get your pants off, I could do it without a Netflix and chill session."
When the two of you reach your room, you blush at the mess. You're one of the few civilians who get to live on base full time - you've collected more crap than the average soldier who never knows how long they'll be assigned to live here. In a whirlwind, you'd thrown everything around the room trying to figure out what you needed for a two week trip home. You're not entirely sure, but Ghost strikes you as the type of person to live by cleanliness being close to godliness.
He doesn't say anything, instead pointing at the television stationed on top of your dresser, among bottles of perfume and make up.
"How'd you get that?"
"Oh you know, I get special privileges and all."
Ghost hums at you as you snatch up a ratty t-shirt and shorts from a pile on the floor.
"Turn around so I can change. And don't try to sneak any peeks."
He turns, ever a gentleman, and you change as quickly as possible, throwing your clothes into the corner. You settle onto the bed before Ghost turns back around. You pat the edge of the bed beside you, your hands faltering as you do. It's suddenly hit you how intimate this entire situation is, how this would be taken if anyone were to just walk in.
"You can sit up here, or you can lay on the floor. It's up to you."
You can see Ghost's eyes roam the floor, the mess, your suitcases that aren't zipped up. Slowly, like he's realizing the intimate nature of this situation, he lowers himself down to a sitting position beside you. His bends over, you can hear him working at the laces of his boots before he kicks them off and lines them up neatly beside the bed. His hands reach up to the small of his back; he pulls a gun out from underneath his jacket and places it lightly on your side table. The movement is strangely intimate, the sight of his gloved hand on the gun in the moonlight coming through the small window is enough to make your stomach flip.
You try to push the thoughts out of your head, focusing instead on the movie you’ve picked out. It’s some dumb action flick that you’ve seen a million times before, but it’s something to do, something to pay attention to other than the feeling of Ghost's thigh against yours. Ghost doesn’t seem to mind, and you can feel his eyes heavy on you. You pretend not to notice as you settle back against the pillows, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks.
You’ve seen this movie a million times before, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Instead, you steal glances at Ghost out of the corner of your eye whenever you think he’s not looking. He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and try to focus on the movie, but it’s no use. You’re acutely aware of every move he makes, every breath he takes, and you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be closer to him.
You don't know you've fallen asleep, until Ghost shifts beside you, waking you. You feel his tactical pants under your leg, in your sleep you've hooked your leg over his, your hand snaking across his stomach.
You try to pull away from him, but he reaches out to grip your wrist in his hand, calluses warm against your soft skin.
When Ghost speaks, you can tell he's not looking at you - the light in the room enough for you to see his face is turned away from you.
"Tell me to leave." His voice is rough, low.
"Ghost I-"
"My name is Simon."
He turns, forcing you to shift onto your back. Ghost - Simon - hovers above you, looking down at you finally. Your pinned under the weight of his gaze, a heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. He's so large above you - just like you'd imagined when you-
"Tell me to leave. Please."
His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, he presses into your harder, his grip on your wrist tighter. You know there will be a bruise there tomorrow.
"Why should I tell you that?" Your voice is syrup thick, you bend your knee, trying to push yourself closer to Simon.
You can't see his face in the dark, but you can see his thoughts in his eyes, trying to figure out what to say, what to do.
You reach up with your spare hand, brushing your fingers against his jaw. Simon jerks back, pulling away from you, and dropping your hand. Before you can push yourself up in bed, Simon is gone, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.
722 notes · View notes
scoonsalicious · 28 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket embraces her inner Karen (just a little bit)
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: Word on the street is that you and Steve are a Thing. You try to give Bucky a head's up that it's all bullshit, but he's not answering his phone. That can't be bad, right?! RIGHT??? 😬
A/N: Time for Pocket to set the record straight! (ALSO! Surprise, besties: Three updates tonight! - 445, 5, 515 EST)
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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You’d never had an opportunity to meet Lisa Galvin, head of the PR firm that exclusively represented Stark Industries, but you figured that, if she could handle the public relations nightmare that was Tony Stark, you were obviously in good hands.
“Ms. (Y/L/N),” Lisa said, rising to shake your hand as you were shown into her office, “it’s so lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard such good things.” Her firm’s suite was on one of the Tower’s mid floors, and was bright and spacious, but lacked any real sense of character or personal warmth. Given that Galvin & Associates represented all of Stark Industries, plus every Avenger, you kind of expected the space to be a bit more… colorful.
“‘Pocket’s fine,” you said, sitting down in the chair she offered you. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”
Lisa smiled. “My pleasure. Though, we wish you’d come to see us much sooner. In terms of a PR footprint, you’re practically a ghost! We could do so much for your public image, if you’d only let us, dear.”
You looked around, wondering who the ‘we’ was that she was referring to, as it was only the two of you in the room. “I actually prefer it that way,” you told her. “I highly value my privacy, and I took my job to create and innovate, not to become public property.”
Lisa pursed her lips, as though she could think of nothing more disdainful than wanting to remain out of the public eye. “Well, to each their own, I suppose,” she said, her voice betraying that she very much did not agree with you. “Now, what is it you wanted to meet about?”
“I’m sure that you’ve seen the articles by now,” you told her, something about her beginning to rub you the wrong way. “You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you hadn’t.”
“Ah, yes,” she replied, and if she heard the edge in your voice, she didn’t acknowledge it. “The ones about you and our very own Captain Rogers! Congratulations, I might add! Just delightful! What about them?”
“I want to issue a statement refuting them,” you said. 
Lisa looked at you as if you asked her if she wanted to go out and kill any and every puppy you could find. “But Pocket, my dear, why? You must understand that being romantically linked to one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire world– nay; throughout all of history can only increase your public approval ratings. Do you know how many of my clients would literally kill to have exposure like that?”
You widened your eyes. She was slightly scary, like a deranged Effie Trinket. “Well,” you began slowly, “first, there’s the fact that it’s not the truth. I am not now, nor have I ever been, romantically linked with Steve Rogers. And second, and most importantly, I’m deeply committed to someone else, and I don’t want him getting hurt by these lies.”
Lisa rolled her eyes at you. “My dear, in the court of public opinion, no one gives a damn about the truth. It’s all about optics. And given the public’s engagement with the articles that have been posted since the gala, the optics you and the Captain present together are divine.”
“Yeeeeaaaah,” you drew out, “I really don’t give a shit about optics. I’d just like the record to reflect the facts.” You leaned forward, putting your elbows on Lisa’s desk as you looked her in the eye. “And if you’re not going to do that for me, I’ll speak to Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark about finding a new firm for the company that can.”
You smiled your “did you forget exactly what my position was in this company?” smile; not one that you used very often, as it tended to give you the ick, but you felt it was more than appropriate, given the circumstances. It wasn’t uncommon for people to underestimate or dismiss you, or think they could intimidate you or bend you to their will due to your small stature or your relatively young age, or just because you were a woman. It didn’t hurt to give them an occasional reminder.
Lisa looked properly concerned. “Well, I – there’s no need for that!” she spluttered. “I see no reason Mr. Stark needs to be involved. It’s a simple matter of having you write out a statement, after all. From there, my associates will send it along the AP wire, and to the outlets that wrote the articles, asking for a retraction, or at the very least, that they publish your response.” She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a legal pad. Handing it to you, along with a pen, she said “Just write the basic sentiment you wish to get across, and my team will tweak it into something befitting a proper press release.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’d prefer to have my statement in my own words, thanks,” you said, before bowing your head and beginning to write:
While Ms. (Y/L/N) greatly values her friendship with Captain Rogers and admires all he has done for his country, she would like to clarify that they are not now, nor have they ever been, involved in a romantic relationship of any kind. Ms. (Y/L/N) is involved in a committed, long-term relationship with another party and kindly requests that her privacy in this arena be respected, and she be left to continue living her life as a private citizen.
“There,” you said, handing her the sheet of paper. “That should do it.”
Lisa looked it over and nodded her approval. “It will do,” she said. “It’ll go out straight away; I’ll do it myself.” You nodded and, thanking her for her time, stood and turned to leave. “Oh, Pocket, dear,” she called to you. You turned, wondering what more she needed from you. “Just for the sake of curiosity, when you wrote you were already in a long-term relationship, who were you referring to? Is it someone in the Tower? I only ask because it may become a relevant issue at some point in the future.” “James Barnes,” you told her proudly. You loved him, and you honestly didn’t care who knew it.
Lisa clutched her chest as if you were attempting to steal her pearls. “The Winter Soldier?! Oh, my dear– you better pray that little nugget never gets out, because if it does, you’ll be running back here in tears, begging me to fix your ruined public image.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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fruitmins · 7 months
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Attention | Jimin
➭ summary: You’ve been stalking your ex ever since you two broke up. And he’s aware of this, but you know he won’t stop you cause he’s a little attention whore. Until he starts seeing some else so you have to remind him who he belongs too..
➭genre: smut with a little plot if you squint, ex’s au, drabble
➭warnings: unprotected s*x (don’t do that), kinda rough s*x, a wall, cuss words, relationship is hella toxic, stalking (don’t do that), murderous tendencies, he plays into your delusions, more s*x implied, Jimin is still the dominate somehow??
note: i haven’t posted a oneshot in a while and wanted to work on my smut so let me know if it’s readable or not but I actually kinda like this one ⚠︎ this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. jimin is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.
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Your blood is boiling.
Your sat posted up across from the small modern cafe he works, in a black cap and all black outfit. He can’t see you right now but you can see him very clearly.
You can see the way he entertained the female customer by biting his lip and looking her up and down. You can see the way the girl hides her face where he speaks, undoubtedly flirting with her and smirking at her pathetic reaction.
This isn’t what gets your blood boiling.
You wouldn’t even think past it because you know Jimin has always had a flirty personality. You’ve watched him flirt with most female customers before, even woman over the age of forty five. It was just who he was.
What’s annoying you is how this is the second day in a row where the same girl has come in, just to flirt with him. And eventually, the girl just took out her phone for him to put his number in. And he did.
Something in you still had faith in him. A part of you wanted to believe that he’d just ghost the girl and get her off his back. He still belonged to you. You weren’t ready to let him go yet. Therefore he wasn’t on the market.
And he knew this. But still, as a warning you lift up your cap and emerge from the bushes. You walk across the road and walk past the window to the cafe, visible through the big see through windows.
And you know he saw you. You know this cause you’ve watched him glance at the window every five minutes looking for you. Waiting for you. He knows you’ve been stalking him ever since the two of you broke up four months ago. You’ve made yourself known every now and then. Outside his house, outside his job, when he is out with friends. He knows you’re there. He’s caught on to your little game.
So you figured he was just fucking with you like he used to. Trying to make you jealous on purpose. After that he would simply leave the girl alone and in response unblock you instead of texting her.
That was until two days later you watched him get into his car and drive to the cafe. Expect he didn’t work that day, and you saw the same girl walk in a couple minutes after.
They were on a date.
He was on a fucking date.
You tired not to panic at first. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had to be fucking with you. Playing with your emotions to draw you out somehow. That’s what he always did. He treated you like a game.
But then you watch him, his guard slowly melting. His body relaxing as he finally pays attention to what she was talking about. Finally realizing that the girl might have a personality. You watch him stare at the girl as she talked, now so absorbed in the conversation that he wasn’t even glancing at the window anymore.
He wasn’t waiting for you.
He’s so predictable it makes you sick. He sees a pretty slut is giving him all of her attention right in front of him and crack’s immediately. He capitalizes on the effect he has on people and uses to it his own pleasure. Once anyone has every interest in him, he has to suck the life out of them, and then leave them to dry when he gets bored. Like he did with you.
You almost feel bad for the girl. But then you see her do something stupid like touch his thigh when she laughs and you think about burning her alive again.
You need to remind him that you haven't let go of him yet. That you still have your full attention on him. You need to remind him just how good you are to him.
So you watch him. You watch him smile and get lost in the girls eyes. You watch as he forgets about the world around him because of a pretty girl. You know this is happening cause you watched him do it on your couple first dates. So you watch for the entire hour and a half with a sick stomach.
Until they finally leave the cafe, and they finally break apart. The girl walks out of the store, and you think about slitting her throat as she struts down the sidewalk. Obviously feeling good about herself. That she had managed to strike a gold mine like Jimin.
You roll your eyes and wait for Jimin to exit the cafe minutes later after saying hi to his coworkers. You watch as he gets in his car and then you walk to his house as he speeds away in the same direction.
You take your time, thinking about all the fun you’re going to have when you get to his house. You ditch the cap on the way, your hair now flowing freely in the wind. You take off the large black hoodie as the sun shines down. You’re not going to camouflage yourself for this. You need him to see you. To see what he was missing. To remember all the good you to had.
You make it to his house and feel a little relief when he’s car is there. He could have easily went out to get some groceries or a snack after. But he was there. You entire his house easily, always knowing where his spare key was. No matter how many times he changed the hiding place.
You walk into the familiar house, taking a minute to glance around and smell the familiar air. Your heart races and thumps as you think about all the times you spent together.
You practically frolic through his house before finally going upstairs to his bedroom. You can hear the shower running as you walk up the stairs and your heart pumps even more with excitement and anticipation.
You enter his bedroom, glancing around the warm space. So caught up in looking at his baby pictures and sports posters that you don’t realize that the shower stopped running until you hear his voice.
“What are you doing here?” He says as you slowly turn around to face him, a picture of him with a pirate suit on in your hand.
He’s stood there, a couple steps away and in nothing but a wet white shirt that stuck to his body and didn’t hide the visible six pack and black sweats. His hair dripping wet and down his face as the smell of soap fills the room.
“I needed to see you again.” You say without thinking, sounding utterly pathetic but you know it amuses Jimin. You know this will only boost his ego.
“And you thought breaking in was the smart way to go?” He asks raising an eyebrow, his voice is soft yet stern and you can’t help but let out a smile when you hear it.
“I’m sorry I don’t do dates like all the other girls.” You respond back, rolling your eyes as you thought about watching the date he went on earlier.
He lets out a small chuckle, masking his amusement with a look of disbelief as he shakes the towel to dry off his hair. “You need to leave.” he says in a soft low voice.
“Oh I will. But first let me make something clear.” You stay sternly, taking a step towards him, causing his eyes to widen slightly with suspicion. He looks at you for a moment as you closes the distance between you, the smell the familiar scent of his soap and shampoo filling your nostrils.
“Just because you broke up with me, doesn’t mean you get to move on.” You say, your face suddenly darkening before leaning against his ear to lightly whisper. “You’re still mine.”
As you lean in to whisper your words in his ear his body stiffens, as he feels your breath on his ear. You can almost feel the tension building inside him.
“That’s not how this works.” he says, his voice still low but you can tell there’s a little nervousness in it, like he was now unsure of something.
You can practically see the thoughts and memories rushing through his head as he stared down at you. You can see his pathetic little heart beating faster as he drowns in your strong words. “That’s exactly how this works.” You say with a slight chuckle, knowing exactly what to make him crack.
“And I’m going to make sure you remember that every time you even think of going on a date.” You whisper with a smug smile and you can see his eye twitch.
His expression changes ever so slightly, thinking deeply about your words till his muscles tighten and he suddenly moves.
He puts his hand out as if he’s about to push you away, but instead he pulls you close.. “Let me make something clear,” he says with a growl, his eyes locking onto yours. His one hand lightly grips the nape of your neck while his other hand lands on your waist as he lifts you against the wall.
“I will be going out on dates, and I will be getting over you. Because you’re crazy.” he tells you, and if he was a cartoon character you are sure he would have steam coming out of his ears.
You know you’ve damaged him, you’ve pushed him to the limit and forced him to remember and care about you again.
“And that’s exactly your type.” You respond quickly with a smug smirk. You can’t tell if he’s still seriously angry but it’s obvious that he’s turned on by all of this. That he is in love with how crazy you are for him.
“And as much as you don’t want it to be true. You love how crazy I am.” You’re an automatic ego booster that you know he can’t let go easily.
“Fuck you.” He spits in return before slamming his lips meet yours roughly, demandingly as he tries to silence your words and his thoughts that he didn’t want to come to term with. That everything you said was right. And that he is just as crazy as you are.
You smirk in victory but kiss him back immediately, the kiss rough and hungry as it deepens. You can feel him giving in more and more, losing himself in your touch just like he always does.
As the kiss deepens, his hand moves from your waist down to the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach that sends you into a spiral.
As he touches your skin, he can feel you trembling and shivering underneath his hands, it feels like he’s holding on to a fragile being but he loves the way you shake in his hands. He loves how unpredictable you are and how you treat him like he’s some type of God.
His mouth sucks on your neck as he tugs your shirt up, slowly revealing more and more of your soft skin that is hot under his fingertips. His fingers dance along your skin, tickling and teasing as he kisses his way up to your lips again.
You lean your head back against the wall, breathing heavily as you wrap my legs around his hips to hold yourself up against the wall.
He continues to kiss you passionately as he pulls away again to look at you, this time leaving a trail of saliva across your face. His eyes are full of lust and hungry. His other hand travels southwards once again, touching your thigh gently.
He then begins kissing along your jawline before finally trailing kisses down your collarbone. "God...you're driving me insane." He whispers huskily against your chest.
“Good.” You whisper back, your hands in his hair as he pushes you more up the wall. He growls at your words, his movements become more desperate, his hands underneath your clothes now as he lifts you higher.
He kisses you deeply, as if silencing you again as his tongue pushing past your lips, gripping onto you tighter. You groan into his mouth, his tongue fighting with yours as you do him the honors of lifting up his shirt.
He moans loudly, loving how much control you have over him."Fuck..." he says breathlessly, breaking off their kiss briefly to help pull off his shirt, exposing his toned body. You can’t help but brush your hands over his abs off letting out a breath before he takes off your own shirt.
You move your hand from his abs down to his v line. You can’t help but quickly move your legs higher so you have complete access to slide down his sweats and he is quick to help you undress him, pulling down his boxers along with them.
His cock quickly reveals itself, slapping against his stomach as it escapes his tight boxers. It looks bigger than usual because of how hard he was, even throbbing with some precum at his tip.
“You’re crazy.” He whispers again, almost disappointed in himself for wanting you so bad as he pressing himself closer to you, bending his head down and kisses your neck.
“I missed you so much.” You respond back, delighted that he was back in your clutches. His hands find their way into the waistband of your pants.
His hands slip under your pants, your body jolting when you feel his fingertips rub against your wetness. “Jimin..” you whisper breathlessly and he can’t help but smirk at your desperation.
“I want to hear so much more..” he says in a low husky voice, placing light soft kisses on your neck as his middle finger presses against your slit.
Your back arches letting out a soft moan as you hold onto his hair tightly. Your body shakes an anticipation until he effortlessly removes my bottoms all together. He stares hungrily at your exposed lower half, admiring every inch of it.
He pushes you against the wall, slowly lining himself up before letting out a groan of relief as his hard cock slides into you. You're so wet and warm around him, it feels amazing. His hands move to your hips, holding them still as he starts thrusting slowly. He feels so perfect inside of you, fitting so perfectly and like he was always meant for you.
"Fuck." Jimin says quietly, kissing your neck. He hips buckle as he slowly starts moving faster, don’t being able to resist wanting more as his grip tightening around your hips.
He pulls out a little and then thrusts back in, feeling you tighten around him. His movements become faster, more erratic as he can't control his need for you. “So perfect..” he groans, his hips slapping roughly against yours earning a loud moan from your every time.
Your mind is hazy from the intense pleasure, pulling on his hair tightly as your body trembles. You loose all of your senses and thoughts, soaking in the feeling of him inside of you.
He moans when he feels you tighten around him, loving the feeling as you reach your climax and spill out all of the butterflies in your stomach.
He slows his pace, but makes sure to keep moving inside of you, watching your face contorting from the high of your orgasm with pride.
“I’m gonna drive you as crazy as you drive me, darling.”
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emonydeborah · 7 months
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If the crew became kids
I doubt this is going to happen, especially because TNG already did it, but I would personally have such a great time.
An overarching theme would be Una's height because reasons, and because her talking to someone and suddenly having to look down at some child would be hilarious.
So some kidifying ray swept the ship, affecting them either one at a time or all at once.
Chris will not shut up about horses. He's swinging his legs on the biobed and chattering away. He accidentally interrupts and is so apologetic bc he never wants to be rude!!!! He wants to be friends!!! "Are we friends?" Spock has to look down at his captain/father figure and say "...yes. Chris." (Also Chris stares up at Una and says she's pretty bc he has more brains as a child than a grown man). He stares out at the stars with the biggest eyes.
Una the preteen is the same height as La'an and La'an is pretending not to be salty about it. They know she's Illyrian and she Freaks Out, and she and La'an have a talk about accepting themselves and not being defined by what others think that is more educational for La'an than for Una. What a gangly woman. She is out here constantly knocking things over, and the crew sees someone who had to grow into herself as much as anyone. Her default response is silence and big scared eyes but she can be tempted with some trivia. Erica spends hours showing her the flight controls.
Spock is a complete deadpan sassbucket and no one is prepared. the cute chubby cheeks. The bowlcut. His babysitters lose sight of him for sixty seconds and he disassembles a replicator because he heard a funny noise. Don't touch that. Why? *is touching it* They cannot make him believe he is in fact an adult and they're trying to fix him. "Mother says to find a mother with children and ask her for help if I get lost." Man asks Una for help because he's lost. Legend.
Uhura is such a little imp. Once she gets over being scared she disappears into the jeffries tubes. Her giggling echoes through the ship like the ghost of a demonic victorian child. Hemmer is down to let her roam but Una crawls in and drags her out. If any of the kids get a leash, it's Uhura. Erica distracts her with sweets. She needs to be occupied at all times or she will wander away.
Erica is the surliest eleven year old. Everyone expected her to be the easy child but she makes a point of being difficult. Una is tearing her hair out and Chris is like yes but have you considered. She is eleven. She's edgy and moody and everyone is like how did our Erica come from you. Una says she's the best pilot she's ever met and sits her at the helm and Erica stops her griping for a bit. She determinedly does not show interest but she does look at the buttons and subtly watch Jenna doing her job.
La'an has a lisp and sucks her thumb. Una insists she has to stay with her. For security reasons. Una has to go yell at people and La'an is holding her hand/on her hip the whole time. Everyone else is curious about little La'an but Una goes NO get your OWN. Little La'an wants hugs and cuddles and Una goes well if I must. For Starfleet. Chris does get custody for a while and he carries la'an around on his shoulders.
Christine and her big fat smart mouth. ackshually I read about this and you're wrong. Her sass is only matched by baby Spock. Grown Spock does not know how to handle it. This eight year old and her sassy little crossed arms leave everyone speechless with the sheer audacity. Joseph "don't touch that you'll break it" vs Christine "we use these at school all the time I know what to do" *breaks it* "... I didn't do that."
Joseph is the smiliest boy. He's having a great time. He follows Christine around and asks her about everything. Someone is in Sickbay with a sprained ankle or something and Joseph goes hmm. Looks like you're real sick. Do you have chicken soup here. He's the most charming little kid. Everything he does is cute. Everyone gets hugs and secret handshakes.
Hemmer, like Spock, takes stuff apart for the heck of it. Uhura tries to distract him by asking about Andoria and he could not care less. Man is tearing apart the EPS manifold and Uhura goes ...buddy let's not do that. Una says stop and he stops. All the deadpan blind jokes. Look away for two seconds and he is actively climbing into the warp core. What are you doing?!?!? Hemmer *shrugs*
Pelia is off like a shot all over the place. Talking a mile a minute. Young Pelia is such a foreign idea no one knows how to handle it. She's their wise old hermit and their wise old hermit is hanging upside down off the biobed. Now she's on the ground and her head hurts. Oh crap she's crying.
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for that ‘noah is brought back as an assistant after getting himself eliminated’ idea i think noah should just stop trying to tiptoe around anyone after one day. he puts in one (1) day of effort and then just gives up.
“??? noah???”
“who. im not noah. ive never even heard of a noah.” (has changed his shirts and is wearing sunglasses thats all) (no effort to hide his identity)
Noah puts in a genuine effort to remain undetected for a good while (let's say a week or two) after being whisked away back to Camp Wawanakwa, since he really doesn't want to deal with the idiots he worked so hard to escape from so soon, but it's surprisingly difficult to keep himself just indistinct enough to remain under their radar without making himself look suspicious- either to the contestants themselves or to his newfound co-workers.
Maybe acting like a skittish deer every time one of the campers was around was a bit shady, but could you blame him? Anyone else in his position would be wary of discovery too. No one wants to be put on blast on international TV for the consequences of their actions. Thankfully the other interns are polite enough not to comment when he absconds at the smallest signs of his past competitors.
It doesn't help that the eliminated contestants have started to notice that Noah isn't at the Playa with the rest of them. None of them have asked about him yet, but there's a distinct air of concern at the resort every time someone comments about him- or the lack of him.
So, needless to say, Noah's got quite the reputation as a bit of a cryptid among the cast. Which is fine, he can play into that if it means none of them figure out he's been forcibly employed under their sadistic host. Noah goes out of his way to disguise himself behind different outfits, altered hairstyles and a pair of mirrored shades, and straightens his posture into something less lazy and more 'professional' when he's on the clock; it's impressive how much a change in wardrobe and demeanour can disguise someone, just look at Clark Kent. He essentially becomes a ghost to the cast, to the point that a lot of them begin to doubt he was even real and not a mass hallucination.
(Noah encourages the rest of the interns to play into that misconception, mostly because he finds it funny but also because it would aid him in his effort to remain undetected.)
But the trickery soon becomes more hassle than it's worth; Noah's about 80% certain he could do his job in the same outfit he'd worn on the island and not a single person would bat an eye, let alone recognise him. That's the power of being a wallflower- he's fairly unassuming and able to blend into the background. It's his confidence in his lack of notability that leads to him to becoming complacent.
In fact he makes a game out of it, if only to curb the boredom of his job. He goes from spy-level subterfuge to the barest minimum of a disguise; at one point he just slaps on a fake moustache and his mirrored sunglasses and calls it a day. No one notices. This only serves to encourage his blasé attitude towards his discovery- the cast are way too oblivious to notice him, after all.
Which is why Noah's inevitably discovered when he delivers a coffee to Chris on-set dressed in his usual outfit, the only attempt at a disguise being a haphazardly thrown on blonde wig. (Namely, the same wig Courtney later uses in Action.)
"Is that Noah?"
Comes a disbelieving outburst from the cast. Noah isn't sure who said it, but the statement draws attention onto him which is the last thing he wants.
He has to divert suspicion quickly before it's too late.
"No, this is Patrick."
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hihi uhhh random idea that plagues me and i love your writing sooooo
how would ghost react to a member (the reader) of the 141 being able to regenerate?? like if they ever get injured the wounds gone within a few seconds! just something that i’ve been thinking about cause that’d be badass :p
Whoa that’s really cool! This is definitely my take on this so yours could be different but
Ghost with a reader who can regenerate
You had kept it a secret for a long time surprisingly. No one in the task force knew, not even Price
They just assumed that you were so good at your job that you never got hurt or if you did “get hurt” it wasn’t a big deal
When you did get hurt you made sure that it was when no one else was around you or you quickly able to cover it up
The real reason why you kept it a secret was so the enemy didn’t figure out you were virtually invincible and because there was a little guilt about it
Your teammates have suffered life threading injuries and have almost died, but when you got injuries like those, you didn’t worry too much about
What they didn’t know is that any injury you got just healed instantly
That was until on a mission you got hurt in front of Ghost
It was supposed to be a simple recon where you and Ghost were set on overwatch as Soap and Gaz entered the building below you
You were looking through the scope of your sniper, watching to make sure no enemies showed up and the escape routes were still open
You and Ghost were making small conversation like normal. You were invested in it, you always were which meant you didn’t hearing the approaching footsteps behind you both until it was too late
You were caught in hand to hand combat with an enemy that would’ve been ended quickly if you hadn’t been caught off guard
Just before Ghost managed to shoot the enemy down, they managed to stab you in the gut
“Shit!” Ghost raced after to catch you and pressed a hand onto your wound.
“Ghost it’s okay!” You tried to tell him, not panicking at all as he tried to patch you up. “I’m okay! Look, it’s okay.”
You stopped him from talking on the comms and showed him your wound.
Right in front of his eyes Ghost watched the wound slowly close up and disappear without any trace.
He stared at you with wide eyes, speechless. He hesitantly touched the spot and when he didn’t feel anything he looked back at you with hard eyes
“Explain. Now.” He demanded and you sighed
You told him about your ability and how almost any wound will heal instantly or nearly instant when it’s afflicted on you. You’ve lived through a lot of things that could’ve killed you
While you explain he listens intently and when your finished he gets up without a word and goes back into his position
“Back on mission, Sargent. We’ll talk about this later.”
He keeps your ability a secret after you tell him why you hadn’t told anyone in the task force. He understands why and looking back onto your past endeavors it made a lot of sense
He refuses to let you do risky things, telling you, “You can’t heal from death.”
Knows not to panic when you get hurt but still makes sure that you’re body is healing
Asks you how you got this ability, it’s your choice whether you tell him how you got
He still admires you and kind of thinks your a super soldier
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