#WHY DOESNT HE JUST CRASH ON THE FLOOR
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ilovefredjones · 1 year ago
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can we please talk about how jim sleeps standing up in the return of the archons
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emacrow · 5 months ago
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Tim whom is still banned from caffeine went into looking into other ways to get caffeine.
He went into anonymous source from someone name KingTuck4ever who talk about a energy drink that kept him up for weeks during a critical time of his life and Tim was at this point of desperate to spend any time of money he got.
Later that night, he received 6 very large Dark green boxes with a DP logo on it filled with Lightening Green tall soda cans with the name Ecto-Spark!, ingredients tags on the back, made with organic vegan products, DO NOT NEAR MEAT RELATED PRODUCTS, guaranteed to keep you caffeine deprived souls awake and alive enough to enjoy a night afterlife party! Or your money back.
Tim at the point didn't read the back as he pop open the top, smelling a strong scent of caffeine, carbonated bubble and a taste of lemon lime mixed with a tang flavor that had his mouth drowning nearly in drool.
He took only one experimental sip, before his eyes widen instantly and immediately began chugging the soda can for all the liquid caffeine it had inside. This was 1000 times better then Death Coffee Cup from his favorite Cafe that he was still banned from.
It felt like his whole body got electrified with energy and feel like he can run a whole 4 week marathon without breaking a sweat. This drink was like tasting nirvana after a week of being in a Gobi desert for his fucking soul.
.....
.....
.....
Bruce can never know about this. He can't tell anyone about this drink. Not Damian, Not dick, not step, maybe Jason, but Cass can kept a secret since she knew body language. He might possibly go rogue and kill Bruce himself if Bruce tried to take this from him.
Meanwhile Tucker was amazed of the total amount of money he received from the anonymous Caffine obsessed ghost. Usually he ended up receiving old relics, Egyptian related artifacts, gold coins, etc but this is a first he got actually modern day money.
Poor dude must've been recently form a core to spend that much money. Good thing he had send extra since he know how crazy those caffine-obsessed ghosts can be over the new drink he made specifically for himself, Sam and Danny but it's nice to have extra cash for new tech making. Especially since Danny became high king of the ghost zone when he became 20 year old, and the amount of paper works that had been left for dust collecting could filled a planet to the very brim.
Took him, Sam, Danny, Ghost writer and Techno 5 months to fully turn at least 26% of sacrifical gifts from ritual, contracts, conquests, complains from territorial ghosts about humans taking their land/house/property/or about their murder, help hundreds of ghosts stuck in their personal hell of a limbo of their own death, guy name Constantine whom was rapidly becoming a pain in Tucker's ass especially when he got one contract form his former previous life about this guy.
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freshbakedbreadstick · 2 months ago
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The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader
Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader
Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)
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It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.
This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.
Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 
“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”
He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 
It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  
You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.
“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 
But his words… his words hurt the most. 
“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 
“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 
“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 
You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 
Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 
Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 
Until his voice brought you back. 
“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 
It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 
Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?
You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 
Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 
“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.
He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.
Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?
Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?
Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.
“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.
Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 
“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 
Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 
Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.
Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.
Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 
Back home. 
You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 
You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 
It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 
One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.
The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 
You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 
You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 
It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 
But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 
Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.
You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.
You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 
You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 
It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 
Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 
The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 
You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 
“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.
“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”
‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 
Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 
But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 
Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.
“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.
“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.
“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 
“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.
“They accept me,” he breathed.
“That’s because you are a scientist.”
He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”
“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”
“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”
Your breath hitched.
“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 
Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”
You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.
You panted, chest rising and falling. 
“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”
“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”
Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”
Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 
You gasped, chest tightening. 
“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.
It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 
“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.
“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.
This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 
“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.
“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 
He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.
Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 
You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 
You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.
Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 
His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.
The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 
“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 
You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”
“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 
“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”
Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.
Burnt toast, coffee, metal.
“S-so… close…” you whispered. 
Then you heard it.
A whisper.
You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 
You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 
‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.
But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 
You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.
You were frozen in place.
Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?
But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 
Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 
You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.
But right before you looked away, you saw it. 
You saw the glow.
A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 
You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 
The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 
Then you smelled it. 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.
Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.
You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.
“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 
You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 
“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 
He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 
His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 
You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 
You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 
His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.
“Here… let me show you.” 
Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 
The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.
His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.
You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.
A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.
You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 
“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 
“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 
His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 
“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”
His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 
“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 
“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 
It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 
“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.
“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 
Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 
“Like I always needed you?” 
You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 
“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 
He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 
Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 
As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 
“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”
“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 
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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months ago
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Various Creepypastas x Reader who sleeps in weird spaces
3/5 of the prizes for @reivelmin !!
Post contains: Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Hoodie, Masky, Ticci Toby, Liu, and Bloody Painter!
I actually dont think I've written for Helen before?? I know I havent written for Liu yet so heres to hoping my takes and hcs are accurate!
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EYELESS JACK
When he first catches you in the closet sleeping nearly standing straight up he nearly yelps. You made the stoic eyeless Jack, the man who rarely flinches or jumps at anything, jolt. Naturally he wakes you up and asks why you're in there, but no answer really satisfies him. He tries to drag you to bed and for the night everything is.. normal. But this will be far from the last time he finds you sleeping in an odd place, seemingly unbothered. He eventually asks if theres something going on with you, even dumbly asking if theres something wrong with the bed.. but alas, nothing. You just.. sleep like that.. he often drags you into bed so you dont get sore or fall over
LAUGHING JACK
He thinks you're pranking him, and of course he starts cracking up. He commends you for getting him good, only for his laughter to die down when he realizes that you are in fact asleep while curled in a cabinet. For a moment he thinks you.. died.. or worse was murdered and stuffed into the odd place. He nearly rips you out of the space before you finally crack an eye open. Please dont scare him like that again, he does not take abandonment well even if the scenario is someone possibly dying. Once the shock is over with and he grows more used to it, the humor he originally found in it returns.. it almost turns into a game of where hes going to find you next and what position you're going to be in.. he does not bother to take you to bed and if theres room hes going to squeeze in with you wherever you are
MASKY
Hes probably done that at least once, he sometimes watches you in your sleep on the occasion that you actually fall asleep in a normal place (bed, couch, ect) and he kind of slumps into the corner he was sulking in. Though you... certainly one up him when he catches you sleeping on top of the fridge! If you're in a hard to reach place or really deep into it he leaves you be without attempting to get you out. Eventually he kind of just accepts that this is something you do and completely leaves you alone unless you're in the way of something. More likely to wake you up than moving you out of the way, though... you've probably gotten jumpscared by him simply standing there waiting for you to wake up
HOODIE
Very similar to Masky but I do think Hoodie would take you to bed so you dont get sick (floors are cold, people!) Or getting a knot somewhere in your muscles. Partly because he will likely be too busy with his work to tend to you, partly also because he can be stern when it comes to your health. Theres no ifs ands or buts, hes taking you to bed and hes going to keep you there! Hes a big dude too, he'll hold you in place next to him if he has to
TICCI TOBY
He gets it, honestly. If it's like a security or a comfort thing or just out of impulse he gets it. You might find him sleeping in ungodly positions when he crashes at your place, or sleeping under the bed. He has used a chair as a blanket before. He might feel inclined to try to one up you, actually. All fun and games of course! He also does not carry you to bed, and similar to LJ he might just join you if theres room! Just be warned when sleeping around him he might draw on your face or something.. definitely takes your phone so he can take pictures of you to make fun of you later
LIU
For a minute he doesnt realize exactly what's going on. He might actually pick your stuffed animal up and give it back to you and shut the door of the closet before ripping it open as he stares at you. Gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up, and while he might have to get a little harsh to actually get you awake hes apologizing for waking you up. So so so many questions. Why are you doing that? Why dont you come to bed? Will not take no for an answer. He wants answers, if there are any. After you offer an explanation hes a lot more understanding about it although still very.. confused. Are you not worried about falling over in your sleep? Or even just waking up uncomfortable...? That aside how do you even.. sleep standing up like that, and how long were you like that..? He just.. accepts it
BLOODY PAINTER
Very neutral about it, but he does entertain you with questions when he catches you awake in the morning. It doesnt matter where you sleep, hes not going to disturb you unless you get in his way. But considering hes claimed a corner in your home for himself and his belongings, you don't have to worry about that! Despite claiming to not mind all that much you still seem to wake up in bed despite falling asleep under it. He'll never admit to moving you, but theres no other person who could have done it.. he also wont ever say it but he does sometimes want you to lay next to him
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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago
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may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc
doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰
thankyouu🥺✨
I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫
———————————————————————
Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.
His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.
The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.
The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.
While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.
Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.
You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.
You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.
Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.
“Do you like it?” you ask.
“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”
“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”
His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.
“Why the glitter?” he asks.
“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.
“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.
You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.
“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.
“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”
“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”
He lets out a sarcastic scoff.
“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.
He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.
You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”
He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.
They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.
Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.
You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.
He is livid.
“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.
“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”
“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”
“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”
“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”
Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.
Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.
“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.
“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.
You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”
“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”
“And I had only one sheet of paper.”
“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.
“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”
They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.
“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”
“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.
“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”
———————————————————————
A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!
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slashingdisneypasta · 2 months ago
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Imagine: Scar turning human so he can seduce you.
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*set in the House of Villains universe. Ursula turned him.
Also don't ask me how this works with Lion vs human lifespans, I don't know. Just ignore it 😅
Scar turns into a very dashing older gentleman, of course. Long pitch-black hair he either leaves down in a fluffy dead mess or even ties up in a high ponytail after some-time in the new human body, sharp green eyes made brighter by gorgeous dark skin, and lanky. -And, being his wicked self, he absolutely notices how the new appearance effects one little... old... you. Even if he doesnt particularly care for the odd look, your reactions to just him standing a little too close to you- make it all too worth it.
Scar starts immediately making your life hell, as soon as he gets used to walking up on two legs. Popping up anywhere you are needing help (somehow he always knows when you're in dire straights?? I mean- of course he does), offering his assistance and a few flirty little comments. First to make you aware what he wanted, and then to convince you. Entice you.
Scar fucking up basic tasks like carrying trays (letting the tray tilt so food and drinks slip off and crash to the ground) and opening clipboards (letting all the paper slip out onto the floor), because he's not used to thumbs. It's endearing as fuck and somehow he manages to make an 'oops' look charming with too-wide, too-pretty green eyes and the ease of an older man who knows a little bit of clumsy can be cute.
Scar gracefully scaring off mean villains who decide to get nasty with you because they're in a bad mood. No, his teeth may not be as sharp as they were but he'll still use them. It'll be a shame to get blood on this shirt but he will. 'Keep that in mind, old woman.'
Scar finally winning you over and guess what? He may look like a man but he's still affectionate like a lion. He does not give a flying fuck who's around, who's watching, when he comes up behind you. When the old man draws your body back against his too-snuggly and licks the flat of his tongue over your shoulder, and neck, your pressure point. He loves to taste your skin and feel your pulse point jump. Why should he care? Your stuffy idea of what he can and cannot do to his mate when he wants are of no consequence to him. So pathetically human. Far too human for him. 'Sc- Scar! Frollo is- ' 'Let the little man shriek. I truly could not care even a slither less, Y/N.'
Scar truly not noticing it if anyone else takes interest in him in his new, Hot, human form. He only has eyes for you. Medusa could be hardcore flirting with him across the table and Scar's busy listening to you talk to Hades and Rourke, and fingering the edge of your top between his fingers. She could throw herself at him and he'd conveniently side step her just in time. Okay. Maybe he notices; he's a smart man. But he absolutely acts like he doesn't XD
Scar paying Ursula back for the transformation by delivering to her poor Edgar, who is now her servant. 'Hmm- I take it this means you won the girl over??' 'Mhmm, take the old butler now. I have a young woman to mate. Sorry, Edgar, business and all that.'
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janeyseymour · 9 months ago
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Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 4
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
super quick installment because @schemmentis wants the torture to drag on despite her claiming none of this is her fault
Summary: Joe shows up.
WC: 1.1k
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(this gif is exactly what mel wishes she would've done to joe but doesnt)
Your eyes jump open at the woman’s earpiercing scream. And when they open, Joe is standing over top of the two of you.
“What the fuck?!” he screams as he winds up his bat again. Melissa raises her arms in self-defense, but its futile when the metal bat still comes into contact with her body and she yelps out in pain again. She falls to the floor, and before you can get up, the bat is hitting you too. You refuse to show any signs of pain or weakness though.
“You divorce me for fucking around with the babysitter, only for me to find you fucking your lawyer the day our divorce is finalized?!” he slurs out. His bat comes down on her a few more times while you’re still hissing in pain, and you swear you can hear her ribs crack as he delivers the final blow to her body.
Melissa lays there, clutching at her ribs and gasping out for air. And then he’s swinging at you again.
In reality, the two of you should be able to fend him off. Being snuck up on and jolted out of your dreaming state though makes it much harder as you try to blink away the sleep in your eyes while also trying to defend yourself and hissing out in pain from the first strike.
“G-get JJ,” Melissa croaks out, not even bothering to fight the pain at this point as she cries freely.
Almost in an instant, your eyes and Joe’s go wide, and you both race for the bedrooms. You’re faster than him, of course you are. He’s drunk, and you are stone cold sober and running on adrenaline at the mention of the innocent little boy hopefully still sleeping peacefully (although you’re not sure how he could possibly still be sleeping with his mother’s loud cries). Speed doesn’t matter though. Even with you trying to wrestle the bat out of his hands as you enter the hall, he’s able to strike you- once in the side, and once in the knee. At the blow to the knee, you stumble and fall. 
He’s able to get ahead of you, and he violently whips the door to his son’s bedroom open. He snatches the little boy from his bed harshly enough that JJ wakes up with a small cry.
“Shut the fuck up,” the grown man seethes. “Shut the fuck up!”
He stumbles out into the hallway, where you’ve just managed to pick yourself up off the ground. At the sight of that sweet little boy that has wormed his way into your heart, you see red. You never understood those stories that you would hear about adrenaline taking over and being able to do things that shouldn’t be possible, but here you are. There’s a fire in your eyes as you wrestle JJ out of the arms of a man who is easily double your size and cradle him as closely to your chest as you possibly can. You’re able to stumble your way into the bathroom and lock the door before Joe can get to you again.
“Y/N,” JJ cries as he clings to you, absolutely terrified. “Is this a nightmare? Why can’t I wake up?!”
“It’s real life, honey,” you whisper as you lean against the door. “But I have you, and you’re going to be okay, and your father can’t-” There’s a force against the door, and it shakes you where you stand pressed up against the piece of wood. “He can’t get to us,” you say quickly. You glance at the window. You’re on the second floor, and if it were just you, you would fly through it and deal with the injuries later. But with JJ? You don’t know if you can do that. You don’t know which option is safer at this point- flying through a second story window with a four year old cradled to your chest, or facing the wrath of a drunk and belligerent man hellbent on getting his son back.
Before you can decide though, he comes crashing through the door. Apparently his adrenaline is flowing now too in the haste to get to his son. You fight with him tooth and nail to keep that little boy in your arms, but when Joe throws a mean right hook that collides with your jaw, your grip loosens just enough for the man to grab JJ. Unfortunately, the little boy still has his arms clasped tightly around your neck, and when Joe pries him off, you can see the way that his shoulder pops out of its socket. The blood curdling scream that the youngest Schemmenti lets out is forever embedded in your head. The man is able to throw another punch at you, successfully temporarily stopping you from fighting with all your might just enough to get a head start on you. And then, Joe is off.
With the absolute searing pain now very apparent in your leg, you do your best to run after him, but by the time you make your way out the front door, you see his car peeling away with that little boy inside.
Defeated, you hobble your way back into the apartment complex. You wonder how no one on your floor had woken at the commotion. When you get back to Melissa’s her door is wide open, and she’s still laying there on the floor clutching at where Joe had struck her. Despite the pain rippling through your body, you kneel down next to her.
“Please,” she whispers through tears. “Please tell me you got JJ.”
You shake your head. “Joe has him. But I’m going to call 9-1-1, I’m going to tell them he broke and entered, we need an ambulance for you, and that an amber alert needs to go out on JJ.”
“I- I’m going to kill him,” Melissa hisses as she tries to sit up.
You gently push her back down to the floor. “You need to stay down while I make calls.”
It doesn’t take long for you to rattle off the necessary information to the call center, and when you come back, Melissa is still lying there gripping at her side.
“They’re coming,” you whisper as you sit down next to her. “They already have cops combing the area for him. He’s not going to get away with this.”
“He might,” the redhead groans out. “The motherfucker knows his way around.”
“He isn’t getting away with it this time,” you promise her. “And when they catch him, he’s never coming back.”
TAGS, and let me know if you want to be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson
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crushedsweets · 1 year ago
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what do you think natalie and jack interacting would be like or. if they do at all or
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jacks the only one taller than nat. ok i have words now
nat and jack met through toby, shortly after she was finally 'released' from the operator.
really it would just be nat and toby talking in jacks cabin, while jack listens. they never spent time alone together UNTIL toby and nat got into this massive argument and went weeks without speaking. this put nat on edge when she was at the barn that jeff usually crashed at, and she ended up also getting into a huge fight with jeff. so now she couldnt crash at tobys or the barn(when jeff was around) because she would get too angry.
so she went to the next place she deemed safe, jacks cabin. he accepted because he felt bad.
it was a really awkward night, but when she woke up jack awkwardly offered to make her breakfast because that's always how he was with his little siblings. she was kinda surprised, asked about it, and he awkwardly told her about how he used to cook a lot. she said smth about 'kinda ironic you dont eat this stuff then' and he just laughed. etc etc and they finally start actually talking.
natalies lack of filter and jack just accepting whatever the hell people say oddly works out...
she stays another night, she cleans up around the place because like. he sort of has like... echolocation and thermographic vision, so he gets around real easy and knows when there's stuff on the floor, but doesnt really see dust and dirt and whatever. he never even realized his place was kinda dirty and gets hella embarrassed and is like 'why the hell didnt anyone say anything' . he cleans a lot more thoroughly now. he gets so upset whenever he remembers all the times toby was there and said nothing LOL
theyre just.... so relaxed around eachother idk how to explain it. jacks always been pretty calm, and only got more quiet/distant after the sacrifice. natalie isnt super chatty but she keeps a decent conversation and he's oddly appreciative of her bluntness.
eventually they start talking about stuff they like. she shares that shes always liked stories, mentioned how toby tried reading to her bc she has pretty bad dyslexia but they thought it was cringe so she started listening to audio books, and jack was like holy crap. WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF AUDIO BOOKS. because hes always been a bookworm but cant read anymore on account of... well....
they listen to audiobooks together while doing their own thing. she'll be painting or something and he'll be cooking and it's overall pretty nice.
inevitably she ends up going back to the barn and her and toby reconcile, plus she doesnt really wanna live at jacks cabin cuz she sleeps on the couch and doesnt like to intrude more than she already has. but jack tells her she's always welcome
they never connect on a like, deep emotional level where they share trauma or something, but overall theyre just really good company
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lime1991 · 1 year ago
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those mlp infection aus on tiktok have been alright but heres my idea to consider:
the main characters of the au are the cmc. theyre not the lone survivors, and heres why: the infection almost entirely affects adults. this is just like a book i read in 5th grade, thats where im stealing this from.
Applebloom is the self appointed leader, shes best at foraging for food and growing it as well as building re-enforcements for the shelter (which is the clubhouse. it's higher up so they dont have to worry about most infected ponies reaching them.)
Scootaloo is the defender of the base as well as the group in general. shes the one who handles the weapons and is first to sacrifice herself for her friends to get to safety. She says its because he doesnt want to hold them back due to her disability, they tell her she doesnt have to think like that. but its hard not to.
Sweetie Belle is... not all there. sometimes she forgets the apocalypse has happened and that most of her loved ones are dead. Scootaloo and Applebloom take turns sleeping during the night to make sure someone is always lookout. that, and they can't risk Sweetie Belle unknowingly walking into the dark trying to get home.
Partially inspired by one of the best animes ive ever seen: School Live, Scootaloo and Applebloom sometimes, when Sweetie is having an episode, pretend everything is normal. Is the most they can do for their friend, who is clearly so traumatized that her brain blocks out the reality of their situation. Sometimes, Applebloom wishes that could happen to her.
When the infection started, it slowly took over the elderly first. Granny Smith got sick, fast. Big Mac and Applejack took care of her, but only a few days later she would turn into some kid of monstrous creature. Big Mac did the unspeakable act of putting her out of her misery.
Sweetie Bell was sent to go live with Rarity while her mother was sick. Her father began to feel ill too, and didn't want her to get herself and her friends at school sick as well. She could hear over the phone the conversations her sister and father had. How mom was getting worse, how dad was getting worse. How they stopped calling altogether.
A couple days into the widespread sickness, Scootaloo's aunts took a trip to the store to stock up on groceries just incase a quarantine was issued. They were gone for hours. They were gone for days. They never came back. Eventually, Scootaloo traveled outside of her home by herself, and could never return.
Once Big Mac and Applejack started showing signs of illness, Applejack spoke to cousins in other places wondering if they would be able to let Applebloom stay with them a while. But just like everyone in Ponyville, they were experiencing the same issue. At one point, Fluttershy agreed to watch Applebloom until AJ and Big Mac started to feel better.
After hearing that Fluttershy graciously took in Applebloom, Rarity sent Sweetie Belle off to her the moment she started to cough. She didn't want Sweetie to see her like that. She didn't want her to get sick either, and in fact, she probably transported it from their parents house and into Rarity's. That made Rarity angry. Her last words to Sweetie were about how upset she was that she'd brought the illness to her.
Scootaloo went to Fluttershy herself. She couldn't find Rainbow Dash, so she settled for the next best pony. She was shocked to see her friends had been there themselves the past few days. Scootaloo only managed to stay a few hours, because during the night the crusaders awoke to a crash in another room. Upon investigation they saw Fluttershy hunched over a broken glass. There was blood on the floor.
They went to comfort her, but she wasn't herself any longer. When she turned to face them it already looked like she'd been ravened by the infection. She was so hungry. Why couldn't the jar just open? She was so... hungry. Before she could even stand back up, the crusaders grabbed their things and fled to the only place they knew they'd be safe. The clubhouse.
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c0rvidfagg0try · 7 months ago
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Phoenix Wright Disabled Headcanons:
ADHD king literally the evidence is everywhere in the game
Constantly tapping his fingers and biting his nails cuz of it
Always has silly bandaids on his fingers (bought for Pearl but he uses them mostly)
Has POTS as well as chronic Back and Knee/Leg Pain (since childhood but exacerbated by physical trauma)
Gets hot/cold really easily from POTS so hes always taking his jacket on and off
Always putting his feet on his desk while he reads case files and everyone thinks hes just doesnt really care abt office etiquette (partially true) but its more for his POTS and leg pain
Paces behind the defense bench so his legs dont get as stiff
Also has chronic migraines (caused by the poison)
Usually gets them right after a trial wraps up due to his adrenaline crashing and the stress
Also gets POTS/pain flare ups then too
Partially the reason why he doesn’t take as many cases is cuz he needs time to rest
Standing in court and biking around to investigate takes it out of him
Asthma/lung and throat trauma (from eating glass)
Uses a cane sometimes but doesn’t like to
Feels like it makes him seem weak
In an effort to get him to use it more Maya and Pearls decorate it wish silly stickers (it works)
Wears braces more often tho
Also uses an inhaler (needed it more eight after the incident but doesnt need it as much now)
(Always keeps an inhaler on hand though)
Asthma gets a lot worse when he gets sick and it can take months for his throat to recover
Has had depression since everything w/ Dahlia and it gets kicked into high gear during the 7 yr gap
Maya, Miles, and Trucy force him to see a therapist (Miles pays for it)
(Phoenix doesnt think he needs it so hes only going becuz he doesnt want to waste Miles’s money)
Major medical trauma (very cautious about food/drinks and cannot take cold medicine)
Can’t stand hospitals cuz they remind him of when he had to get the glass taken out
Needs someone go go with him to the doctor so he has someone to care for him afterwards (calm him down, make him eat, drive him home) since he usually has a panic attack
When he has a really bad day (whether that be mental or physical) Trucy will call Miles and he’ll drop everything to come take care of Phoenix
Usually this involves a massage, advil, and a bath bomb (and just Miles’s company)
(I like to imagine gets him some advil immediately and then he helps Phoenix into a bath and rubs his legs or neck for a little bit and then when he’s done he just sits on the floor next to the tub and reads a book while Phoenix relaxes)
(And then after he helps him get in bed, orders Phoenix’s favorite Thai food, rubs some soothing gel on whatever hurts, and then both of them and Trucy snuggle up and watch a movie of Phoenix’s choice (usually Legally Blonde) til he passes out)
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massy2ly · 1 month ago
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Alright, buckle up… PART 1: Fadel (Part 2 is Style’s 🔧🎀)
I’m so confused y’all 🧍‍♀️ discombobulated, flummoxed, as befuddled as a squirrel in a nut factory. And not about ep. 4 at all, to me this episode hinted at all there was to say. What confuse me are THE REACTIONS around this episode that I keep seeing on all platforms .
Maybe it’s just me idk but this shit is a little weird because I don’t see how you can come to the conclusion that:
1. Fadel folded, surrendered, entered the shiny gates of the garden of romance, and is willing to delve into the danger that is love (I’m exaggerating ofc lol).
2. Style started having genuine deep feelings for this guy and actually wanted to be his boyfriend.
- Fadel the assassin, who’ll never choose to put his feelings first, who dislikes Style for igniting said feelings, who is terrified of losing someone else or his brother, who is traumatized by love to the point he still needs grief counseling, who is paranoid, methodical and perfectionist down the the core, who hates change, who can’t take a wrong step, who needs to feel in control or else he falls apart, who left Style laying like a rag on the floor to push him away at all cost.
This Fadel genuinely saying yes to the boyfriend proposal?? That quickly? After a day of missing Style? After he caught Kant sneaking in his home while he’d been distracted by a stalker who’d gone as far as following him to his therapy group? After all the coincidences of Style looming over him while bison was missing? DOESNT SOUND RIGHT AT ALL.
This guy has an agenda and is putting two and two together because that MORON KANT fucked up real time by intruding so quickly inside his home and acting shifty. He needs to get closer to the truth, to Kant and the only way to do that is through Style who he doesn’t write out as a suspect. Style is Kant’s bff and has always been insanely obnoxious and way too persistent in his pursuit, which doesn’t make sense when Fadel barely showed him his good side. Physical attraction can’t make up for a cruel behavior and countless rejections and humiliations (so why did Style come back even after Fadel gave him his body?) Fadel never bought into his cheesy, shallow love confessions which we kinda see more clearly in ep 5 preview when he asks Style what exactly he liked about him from the wire.
I’m not saying that Fadel’s feelings are fake. He does like Style, that’s undeniable. Here is someone who comes crashing into his car, his face, his restaurant, his safe space, his life until he dug his place in this organized chaos. Someone like Style is the only person who would dare and have the ability to shake his foundations. Does that mean that he trusts him with his heart or to have a place in his life? No. Fadel who’s been bullying Bison from ep 1 to get away from Kant would not allow personal feelings to get in the way and enjoy the boyfriend privileges. It feels OOC.
My personal theory: since pushing away Kant and Style didn’t work, let me keep my potential enemies close. It’s an even better solution as Bison refuses to let go of Kant no matter how much they argued over this.
Btw, another very interesting aspect of their brotherhood is the communication issue. Fadel and Bison both hold secrets from each other. Fadel underestimates Bison most of the time and perceives him as naive and unreliable. If my theory stands and he does have a hidden agenda, it makes sense that he wouldn’t tell Bison about it as he seems infatuated with Kant. Bison, on the other hand is anything but stupid and is handling it his own way too, without getting into too much details with his brother.
Anyway, if this show is consistent and has a good plot I don’t see what happens after ep 4 going any other way. Fadel is such a complex and sad character that it wouldn’t make sense for him to cave in at this point and lower his guard. Genuine feelings for Style are definitely there but the Fadel we’ve been introduced to would not throw caution to the wind for selfish reasons. He fought Kant so hard, it’s kinda silly to believe he’d get cozy with a boyfriend himself (Kant’s friend no less). Ep 5 is promising cute moments and I can’t wait to see him smile but, idk, this is weird… maybe he’s trying to make the most of it while he can before he might discover the harsh truth (stooop 😭).
Last but not least, this pic sums everything up. This chilled me to the bones. Come on guys… 💀💀
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skyartworkzzz · 2 months ago
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I came back to promp another lore ramble
Also could we get a status update on the fic? I really want to see nari go back in time for the lamb
YIPPEEEEEEEEE love me lore ramble!
FIRST AND FOREMOST, OFC!! Heres a tiny lil update of the fic so far! I finally got back to writing it and am just struggling to find out what happens next.......but I promise its in the works! <3
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NOW onto the ramble! Yesterday I went a bit ham on my Creepypasta reimagination, so thats what we will be talking about today! Specifically centered around Jeff the Killer CUZ IM THAT PREDICTABLE OKAY-
Anyways! Lore under the cut <3 tw for violence and gore!!
Jeff The Killer:
My Jeff is around his 35 years old and is the younger brother of Liu, who's only 1-2 years older and works as an architect
The brothers share the same apartment, Jeff decided to move in with Liu after living with their parents for a while. Hes currently trying to amount enough money in order to move somewhere of his own
Jeff suffers from depression and has psychotic episodes from time to time, so he has to take meds. Even after he became a killer, he still steals the needed medication to keep his mental exhaustion in check
From time to time, their lower-floor neighbor Ms. Harper calls Jeff to fix her old sink. Everytime Jeff goes over, her son pesters him for fun, which is why Jeff hates him
One day, both Jeff and Liu are invited to the bday of Ms. Harper's son, which was being held at his aunt's house. While in the party, her kitchen sink floods and so she asks Jeff to fix it. While doing so, Ms. Harper's kid accidentally throws chemicals on Jeff's face after trying to prank him with his friends
Jeff is then driven to the hospital by Liu, but they suffer a car crash, which makes Jeff's face melt down and turn pale white. Liu suffered the major damages and had to go through surgeries to put his organs back in place
When Jeff wakes up and sees the damage that was done, he suffers a mental breakdown which leads him to murder Ms. Harper's son. Once the deed was done, he disappeared and started his serial killing career
Jeff cut his lips into a smile specifically to terrify Ms. Harper's son, as if guilting him bout thinking what he did was funny
Before going off the radar, Jeff visited Liu one last time without others knowing, saying he didnt blame his brother for what had happened. Liu, although half-conscious, was able to hear Jeff telling him to go back to sleep
Homicidal Liu:
HONESTLY my Liu doesnt have much of "homicidal" to him LMAO
After the events that led both him and Jeff into the hospital, Liu went through surgeries to recover and was in a coma for a couple of days, which was the time it took for Jeff to start his killer life
When Liu woke up and learned that his brother had disappeared, he quickly volunteered to help and search for him, until finally discovering he was a murderer
Convinced to bring him back to his senses, Liu begged to be part of the police operation to capture Jeff, after proving he could be of use for knowing how his brother worked. And so, he was teamed up with a detective called Jane, who was in charge of arresting Jeff
After much investigation and searching, Liu and Jane finally came face to face with the killer, but came to a fight which led Jeff to carving a smile on Liu's face too and almost ripping his eyelids off like his own. Liu was led back to the hospital after this and received stitches
Seeing as they were lacking experience to capture Jeff, both the detectives accepted to undergo a special training. However, due to Liu's physical state, he wasn't able to finish it and decided to remain on the more schemeful side of the operation rather than direct combat
Given his stitches on his mouth and the horrible wounds his brother left on him, Liu constantly uses a mask and clothes that cover most of his body
Jane the Killer:
Jane works as a detective for the police, she is happily married to a woman named Mary and both live in a spacious, fancy apartment
Her parents were kindhearted and lived with her little sister, Jessie, in a simple house around the quieter parts of the city
Being one of the best agents and praised by the government, Jane was tasked with tracking down Jeff and bringing him to justice. It was during this search that Liu came into contact with her, after learning she was in charge of the operation
Throughout the times they spent together trying to capture Jeff, the killer murdered Jane's parents as a warning for her to leave him alone. But understandbly, that only made her more convinced to seize him with a new goal in mind: kill Jeff
When Liu and Jane received the special traning, Liu wasnt able to participate due to his condition, but Jane carried out until the last step. She was injected with Liquid Hate and gained her superpowers, with the side-effects being her skin turning pale and her eyes and hair black
After the "training" was done, Jane came closer and closer to finally capturing Jeff, but with an unexpected drawback: she was now wanted by the police for committing crimes she couldnt remember doing. Given the new scenario, the detective started working as an underworld punisher
She still searches for Jeff and stays in touch with Liu, now secretly since she is also being hunted down. They both still work as partners from time to time trying to find his brother
Lil extras!
After her parents were killed, Jessie moved in with Jane and Mary, being a survivor of Jeff's wrath luckily for not being home that day
Liu does not know Jane intends to kill Jeff, and she will never tell him, for she knows he will try to stop her
The Liquid Hate project was actually a Proxy experiment, organized by one of Slenderman's Agents who was also the scientist in charge of the special training Jane and Liu received. Jane became a Sleeper thanks to said experiment, with homicidal tendencies she is luckily able to channel to wanted criminals
That is all for now! Theres a whole lot more I havent said here cuz omfg thats too long already
MAYBE ONE DAY ILL BE able to write my own fanfictions about these, who knows
Anyways! Bless chu for the curiosity <3
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i-smoke-chapstick · 10 months ago
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‘COME ON EILEEN!, [PART FOUR]
-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-
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⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader needs a break. Victor just needs her.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! This is a 4 part fic. AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is still in highschool). Gets a little hot and heavy at the end <3 no explicit smut, but a little bit of sexual tension. Victor pining for reader. Reader pining for a better, safer life. Some angst with a happy(ish) ending!
⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR,
♫ “Oh my thoughts I confess, verge on dirty.” Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners
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You swallow the words burning in your throat. Why did you save me? They play over and over again in your head, but you’re rendered speechless. You already know. The dots have connected.
His gaze is still flitting over you, wildly. Despite his stoic expression, his brow bones furrow a tad, and you recognize the familiar sensation of concern. He’s in love with you.
What the fuck.
He has you pushed up against an alleyway wall. You reminice on what might have been- when you look into the glint of the streetlamps in his eyes. You still wonder- if it weren’t for Jim Gordon, would Victor even know your name? Or would he have found you in some other way? The thought makes you dizzy, a bit sick to your stomach.
Or maybe the feeling is coming from the bruise forming on your neck and shoulders from where Maroni’s goon had held you tightly. You don’t care.
Victor stays silent through the whole ordeal- you involuntarily flinch when you feel his gloved hands come up to push a stray strand of your hair back, revealing a dark mark forming. You swallow as you watch his jaw clench.
“I’m okay.” Is all you whisper- but it dies on your tongue. He notices, of course, and finally puts some space between the two of you.
A familiar scilence falls over. The distant sounds of police sirens ring. You briefly wonder how your life will be from this moment foward. No more school. No more Jim. No more fake friends. You want to smile at that, but you’re not strong enough. It all stings.
You briefly wonder what Victor will even do. Turn you back to Falcone? Swallow his feelings, push them down?
He fidgets with his trigger finger, and finally lets out a short huff of relief. You watch him recooperate.
“Good work out there,” Is all he says, voice forced. His teeth are gritted and you can tell he’s still processing. The adrenaline of running away pumps between you two, and you can feel your heart move the air of the shirt you’re wearing. You shiver.
“Thank you.” You mumble, and you finally feel the weight of everything come crashing down. Maybe it’s you being childish- but you feel tears well up in your eyes. You feel petulant in comparison to the strangley kept man in front of you. He has years on you, and yet you both are in complete disarray.
He perks his head up at your tears, and his lips part a bit.
He doesnt say anything, but you feel your eyes widen when he pulls you into a long deep hug. You feel his leather clad arms clutch onto you, and inhale deeply into your hair.
You sob as he holds you- head spinning. The scilence doesn’t ease your worries- but his touch does. In the moment; that’s enough.
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The two of you ended up back at Falcones mansion somehow. It was all blurry through your tears- you weren’t quite sure when his embrace became him whisking you up bridal style- carrying you blocks down. You held onto him the whole way. He didn’t say a single word.
He finally dropped you on your feet when you two were in the mansion, an empty living room. You rubbed your eyes and felt the balls of your feet drop onto the hard wood floor. You could smell fire wood, and you glanced around- recognizing the room as a vacant bedroom.
“You…y’know, okay?” He spoke, for the first time since your walk back. His words sounded nonchalant, but you could hear the undertone of concern. He gave a weak thumbs up as he spoke, demonstrating.
No, you wanted to say. You had to carry me four blocks back. My life is fucked. I’m a fugitive. An assassin’s in love with me. My only friend hates me. Falcone wants me dead. But you cleared your throat, voice raw from sobbing and sniffling.
“Um. Yeah.”
He nodded. His thoughts were swimming like yours.
He went to leave the room, but stopped at the door. He turned around, finger wagging.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He scolded, and somehow it made you smile at the irony.
“What are you going to do, Vic?” He paused at the nickname, eyes softening. “You gonna kill me on your bosses orders? Or are you going to take me under your wing, make me one of your henchwomen, or whatever?” Your words were bitter. You mentally wanted to punch yourself. The man just saved your ass.
“…No ones going to hurt you.” He whispered, and his tone was genuine. It was in this moment- you wanted to kiss him. But the distance between you two was far too great. “Im gonna have a…talk…with the boss.” He muttered, eyes never straying. You raised an eyebrow. “You’re too important to kill.” The words were a double edged sword.
“Because I’m a good informant?” You questioned, tone still hostile.
“…Because I care about you.” Even though he hesitated to say the words, he still said them so casually. So nonchalantly.
Before you could say a thing- he walked out the door, turning on his heel. You flopped down on the bed, finally letting yourself sleep through your nausea.
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When you awoke, the fire place was extinguished. You sat up from a nightmare. It was of the man you’d seen die some time ago. He’d taken the place of Jim Gordon- pointing a gun at you, choruses of Why didn’t you save me? ringing out.
With a start, you clutched the sheets. You jumped when you saw Victor, sitting in a chair, looking over at you. He was playing with your hair, effectively unsurprised when you awoke. His grip only tightened. You winced at the pull of his fingers, and a darker look spread on his face.
“Victor,” You breathed, “Hi.”
“Hell-o.” He drawled out, voice settled at a comfortable pitch.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yeah.”
“…Why?”
“Oh, y’know…bordem. Lack of things to kill these days.” He shrugged it off, quipping. You rolled your eyes. He was in a much better mood now, it seemed. More to his usual, dry humor loving self.
“Your hand.” You motioned to the hand in your hair.
“Yeah, that’s staying there, sorry about that.” He gave a fake grimace, nodding.
“…Why?” You repeated once more, and he let out a low blow of air.
“You just don’t give it up, do you?”
You shook your head. Scilence befell. You watched his adam’s apple bobble in his throat.
“I…don’t want…you to…die.” He spoke each word slowly- as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his own mouth.
“Gee, thanks.” Sarcasm laced its way through your words, and he shrugged. “I like you too.” You added on, in a whisper, and his eyes narrowed in on you instantly.
“What?”
“Nothing,”
“Repeat that.” His voice darkened.
“I said I like you too.”
You only now realized how close your faces were.
In a quick moment, he threaded his hands through your hair, and pulled your neck back. You let out a yelp at the force. His breathing turned heavier as he buried his face into your neck- inhaling your scent once more. You felt his lips hover over your jugular, his eyes closing in bliss.
“What do you mean by that?” He gritted out. His voice was low, dangerous. You were scared…but you subconsciously clenched your thighs together.
“…I’m in love with you too, Vic.” You whispered against him, and it was all he needed to lose whatever thread of self control was keeping him sane. He pressed a gentle kiss to your throat, before another, and another, and soon enough he was licking a long stripe from your throat to your lips, which he captured in a skilled movement.
You kissed back, surroundings unfamiliar. He was the only person you could trust. He was the only person you had. The only part of your new situation that would stay with you. Yeah, your life might be fucked, but you’d rather do it in style. You’d rather spend a life time sipping milkshakes with Zsasz, learning how to shoot a gun, smelling the gunpowder and cologne on his clothes. You’d rather kiss him in this moment, than figure all of your shit out. He was devoted to you. He protected you. He carried you home. He was the only thing garunteed to stay.
You shivered when he stopped his movements, resting his head against yours. He let out a dry chuckle against your lips, and you felt the ghost of a smile on yours.
You don’t know whats waiting for you in the morning. If there will be a bounty on your head. You don’t know if you’ll ever find a greater purpose.
But you know Victor will be there. And that’s enough for you…for now.
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is-on-its-way · 4 months ago
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orison wip
My hc is scully was with child from the ivf and she lost the baby in Orison… I know… Im absolutely not well. 🤗
Shes gone in the morning when he opens his eyes.
He sits up “scully?” he calls out although he doesnt know why. He knows shes gone. 
No answer. 
He gets up and walks around, still nude, to the bathroom, kitchen, and extra room. She’s gone. Long gone. The sink is dry. 
He looks on the dining room table for a note.  they always leave notes. 
It was three words long. 
Mulder, Im sorry 
He let out an audible groan of despair and exasperation. he hadn’t wanted her to regret it and she was. Their first time and she was ashamed. He rubbed his face and got the sleep from his eyes, thinking what the plan was.
He called their office.
No answer.
He dialed again. 
“Hi sir, Is scully with you?”
“No. Why agent Mulder? Skinner said with a sharp tone of warning.
“Sir, were going to need a personal day.”
“Agent mulder! Where is she…” he hears as he pulls the phone away from his ear.
He calls Maggie.
“Hi Fox.” Comes her sing song voice.
“Hi Maggie. Is um… Is scul… is Dana there?
“Yeno.” Then a pause. “Sorry Fox, shes… I haven’t seen her today.”
“Thanks Maggie.” he said, closing his eyes. He exhaled a sigh of relief at finding her so quickly. All of his anxiety, well most of it drained away. He hoped he hadn’t ruined everything by letting himself become her solace. 
“Im coming over. I need to see her.”
“Okay” she said a little quieter. “Bye Fox.”
Hes already pulling on underwear one handed as he tosses the phone on the bed and searches for his shirt and pants in the tangle of clothing on the floor.  
Cringing at the thought of scully ever finding out he’d talked to her mother in the nude with the memory of her still on him. He hadn’t washed after all, just got up, used the toilet, wet a washcloth with warm water, and handed it to her so she could clean herself up before she got up. He’d fallen asleep as she was in the bathroom but he remembered her coming into bed and wrapping her in his arms, whispering its “Its not your fault Dana” as she sobbed into his chest; As he teared up in her hair. 
Maggie opens door and lets him in. 
Scully’s sitting on the couch looking worse for wear, face pink and puffy and blank. Unreadable for a moments that feel like eons. But then her face softens, and his own melts from apprehension to he meet her with the same expression. 
Maggie interrupts their silent communication glancing from one to the other.
“Ill be upstairs I have to get back to the laundry.” She says gently. Retreating without either of them glancing at her. 
Mulder stood in his spot leaning against the molding of the living room entry. Waiting for her to speak.
“My mom is not good at stealthy stuff” she said finally. 
“I would’ve come anyway if she was” he chanced a small smile at her.
She gave him a tense smile back “ of course you would.”
“You think you can just leave bc youre ashamed? How many times have i been embarrassed in front of you? We’re past that Scully.”
“This is different”  she said in a quiet whistful voice as she looked away from him to the sky outside the windows.
He went to her, he could no longer hold himself at the distance he knew she wanted. 
Instead he knelt down on the floor in front of the couch at her knees. He whispered her name like a secret word, like a prayer, like it was the most sacred word in the world. He leaned against the couch hands itching to touch her. But waiting for her to find his face. 
“Dana” he said again with the same reverence. She closed her eyes and turned to face him. When she opened them it was a revelation. His heart compressed as if squeezed in his chest. And he felt a wave of emotion crash over him. 
He found her hand in her lap and wove his fingers through hers. Playing with them like he’d done a hundred times before. 
“You told me, you said you didnt want me to regret it.”
“Do you regret it?” He tried his damndest to not let the cold chill of panic flooding his spine show on his face or in his voice. He knew it would be no use she knew him.
She looked at him, sorrow on her face and he prepared for the worst. 
“Not you” she reached a hand to his cheek. 
“I regret how I did it. Why I did it”
“I couldn’t see your face and put on a smile this morning when you woke up.”
“I don’t need a smile scully I don’t need anything other than who you are.”
A tear fell down her cheek off her chin and into their hands. 
“Dana” he said and leaned his forehead to hers. “Our baby” he managed, before his voice failed him.
He choked back a sob.
“I didnt realize how much love I would have even before…” he said his voice shaking. As he found her face with his hand and held onto her as if she were a life raft.
“Oh mulder” she called out in a high pitched desperate cry as sobs shook her body. He wrapped his arms around her and they cried together and touched together and kissed and held each other. Away from everything and everyone. A family for a moment in time. A family forever. 
@today-in-fic 🖤🤍
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hakugreenfinch · 9 days ago
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little details im noticing that give away who crashed the ship (only based on the very first scenes)
"a length of nylon rope" - if you investigate the rope in the cockpit from curly's pov, he will mention his bet with jimmy. if you check it later from jimmy's pov, it says the same thing without the personal commentary (this is my favourite one)
same with the emergency generator, curly will remember swansea saying its trustworthy, jimmy simply doesnt think it would help a lot in an actual case of emergency
you sit in jimmy's seat when navigating the ship into the asteroid
"we dragged him out of the cockpit" i made a separate post about this but whoever crashed the ship was not in the cockpit. curly ran in there after jimmy escaped, which we actually get to play - not to mention the huge bloodstains on the floor just behind the control panels, why would they be there?
you dont have the code scanner. whenever you play from curly's pov, the code scanner will be in your inventory even if you dont need it in the scene at hand
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wjehfshs · 2 years ago
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Hi can i request a reader that has infinite feral energy? Like reader acts as if he drank 27 cups of coffee and 29 cans of energy drinks everyday and he is just... feral af. People are scared of ghost because he is tall and scary but people are scared of reader because he is just so fucking unpredictable, if reader walks up to you he will either give you the tightest hug and pat your head or kick you in the shin and call you a loser while your on the floor crying over your poor shin, and it doesnt help the fact that reader also has the thickest, deepest european accent known to man. Reader made it his lifes mission to try and climb könig everytime he sees him. Price made it an official rule to never give reader any coffee or energy drinks because the last time reader drank coffee everyone had to suffer a sleepless night because reader was stomping up and down the halls. Does crazy shit with soap cuz c'mon we all saw it coming. Whenever reader gets tired (which is almost never) reader acts like a completely drunken man, bumping into things and walls, always trips on the stairs, dramaticly tumbles and falls, when he finally reaches the end of the stair case instead of getting up he just lays there on the ground re-thinking about his life choices, silently and blankly staring into space, this happens so much that tf141 makes bets on how long reader will stay on the floor. Readers favorite thing to do is chase and terrorise shadow company soldiers and new recruits, while chasing after them he will yell in his deep and heavy accented voice which causes the shadow company soldier and new recruits to think he is putting a curse on them.
Oh my god I love this
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Reader is chaotic, crack fanfic, reader climbs König, MW/MW2 and Ghosts is kinda merged into one here with a huge select few of characters don’t ask why, male reader
Dude you where fucking terrifying
Energetic, heavy European accent, and completely feral
Before you came everyone thought Ghost was the scariest
Good god once they met you they feared for their sanity
Poor König can’t even stand without you climbing up on him
It’s like a daily thing
He’s just accepted it
You would grab onto his shoulders and climb up him like he’s a tree, then hug him like a Koala
Once you were given coffee by a rookie who didn’t know how feral you are
No one slept for the next 2 nights
Day and night you were running around, laughing, giggling, screaming, stomping
Like a literal child
After night 2 you crashed, on the stairs
Gaz found you laying on the stairs, face down just thinking, not blinking at all
“How long do ya think he’ll be there?” Soap asked
“I bet you 20 dollars he’ll be there for another 4 hours” Gaz laughed
Soap got the 20 dollars, you got up in 3 1/2 hours
Gaz was not happy but obliged anyways
The scariest part of you though was when you would chase people
The poor rookies would be screaming, running away as you laughed with your deep accented voice
You always caught them and tickled them
Ghost was just waiting for the day it was his turn to book it for the bunker as you chase him down
On the rare occasion you were tired, usually after a particularly tough mission, you were still just as bad
Stumbling around, giggling, no filter between your brain and mouth, and not to mention when you would randomly fall asleep anywhere
And I mean ANYWHERE
Once Price found you asleep in the shooting range after you stumbled in there in your tired, delirious state
Even with Rookies shooting guns and trying to ignore the man asleep in the corner of the room
You didn’t budge
But god did all of them breathe a sigh of relief
They wouldn’t trade you for the world, but they just couldn’t keep up
Once you went up to roach and nearly snapped him in half with a hug, he swore he heard a crack
But another time you went up to Keegan, hugged him, lifted him up, and threw him over your shoulder
Graves is usually the victim of your kicks
Rudy and Alejandro made a promise to each other to never give you any spicy food, who knows what could happen
Once you stole Alex’s prosthetic leg and ran around with it
He was hopping after you, screaming how it wasn’t fair as you just laughed manically
Farah once made the mistake of letting you use her bike
You rode around for the next 5 hours, once you finally got off everyone felt themselves melt from relief
Soap will occasionally rile you up when you’re actually sitting down, as calm as possible
He’ll do stuff like tickle you, make you laugh, anything to get you going again
Everyone loves you a lot but they have a lot of sleepless nights because of you
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