#att park

[dubmill]

Havering-atte-Bower, London; 10.3.2021

[peppenispizza]

you can call me rot or zombie. i’m 25+, transmasc he/him it/its.

dni is usual no racists, transmeds, terfs, pro-lifers, proshippers, absolutely no y*nderes im not fucking around with that shit i cannot stress that enough, and whatever the fuck. also i’ll just block you if i think you’re gross (this includes if you’re into certain content/content creators.) also please do not support mcpig. please.

i’m gonna write mostly peppino and fake peppino, but i might also do pizzahead, noisette, or the noise. you can ask abt others i guess. i do almost exclusively canon/reader stuff, please don’t ask for other ships, i’m not interested in it (noise/noisette MAY be an exception.) i’m not gonna do pepperman stuff, sorry!!

i basically have no job since they won’t give me any hours so if you would like to help out my v*nmo, c*shapp and p*ypal are all rottingroyalty. anything is appreciated!

i may or may not sprinkle in some fics about peppino/kin heidrich (an oc of mine, you can read about her here <- link)

requests: open

if i block you it is for a reason also check out my tags

[chaddavisphotography]

AT&T Tower in downtown Minneapolis from a parking garage.

[steviesbicrisis]

A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.

Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.

Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.

Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.

As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.

Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.

Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.

Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.

"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.

"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.

"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"

They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.

Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.

Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.

"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.

"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."

If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.

"What?"

"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"

"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.

"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."

"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.

Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"

"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.

Everything feels different now.

Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"

"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."

A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.

Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.

Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.

Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.

“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.

Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”

“You heard me” Steve says.

“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”

For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”

Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.

“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.

“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.

“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”

“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.

Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”

Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”

Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”

“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”

Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”

He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.

Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.

“I think I’m in love.”

[smileflowcr]

Eh... ¿NO? ¡Debería preocuparte! ¡Di algo!

Good,  a  ver  si  así  aprenden  algo  en  la  vida(?)

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 1

(next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OFC/You

Summary: You find yourself bored at the beach on a rare day of R & R. Things get a lot more interesting when Jake runs into you (literally). One thing leads to another and you find yourself back at Jake’s for a steamy, fun filled night.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Non-explicit smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), slight mentions of losing a spouse, alcohol use, etc.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Relaxation has never been your forte.

Starting when you were a little girl; always having to sleep with one eye open to avoid your drug-addict mom’s unpredictable moods and the men she brought home. That unwanted attention only increased with age and the way you began to fill out your clothes which only fueled the resentment your mom had for you.

That resentment came to a head shortly after you turned 16 when one of her ‘friends’ made a pass at you and she subsequently kicked you out. Because it was your fault, of course.

Your best friend's family had taken you in with open arms and while it was the first time you felt like you had a home, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that her parents had another mouth to feed and another body to clothe even with their constant reassurance.

So you put your head down and continued to work hard to graduate high school early with honors. You joined the Navy at 17 shortly after with nothing but a backpack and $368 to your name.

Boot camp wasn’t a walk in the park, nor was the next 12 years of medical school and residency. During that time you fell in love, married the love of your life, got pregnant, and then watched your husband wither away from a debilitating, aggressive disease to pass away shortly after the birth of your son.

With the help from your in-laws and best friend, Maggie, you were able to stay enlisted for the past 8 years as you had navigated being a single mother and widow while also pursuing and achieving your dream of becoming a doctor.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Late last night you arrived home from an endless 6 (and hopefully your last) month deployment-a week earlier than expected. Normally coming back from deployments early is ideal, but your son, Drew, was at Disney with grandma and grandpa for a few more days.

So here you sit on the beach with a cold beer catching some rays while trying and failing to relax.

A rowdy group of guys playing some version of football down the beach keeps creeping closer with each play and the hot, sandy-haired quarterback keeps catching your eye. He’s peacocking for you; flexing and glancing your way. You pointedly ignore it and have to bite back your smile when he deflates.

It doesn’t stop you from sneaking peeks at his sweaty chest under the cover of your sunglasses though as you pull out the smutty book Maggie’s been begging you to read.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Just as you’re getting to the good part of your book, something flies over the top of you; a foot knocks the beer that was nearly to your lips down the front of your white coverup.

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” there’s an apology before he’s even on his feet. “I didn’t see you ‘till the last second.”

Liar.

“It’s alright,” you reply, looking down as you try to soak up some of the liquid with your towel but it’s no use; it’s saturated with beer, and the wet fabric clings to your torso.

“Sorry!” One of his friends yells, likely the one who threw the football. “Let me buy you an apology drink?”

“No worries,” you call back, glancing back down with a grimace. “I’m good, but thanks anyway!”

“We’ll meet you at the Hard Deck then,” his friend calls before jogging over to the rest of the group already heading that way.

“I really am sorry,” the culprit repeats. Your breath catches when you turn back to him. He’s even more good-looking up close, especially with that sheepish grin. Even though his eyes are hidden by his sunglasses, it’s obvious he’s checking you out. Your nipples are now standing to attention, pushing against your bikini top through the newly see-through fabric of your top. “I knew you were here but I hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten. Are you sure I can’t buy you a drink?”

“I was thinking about taking your friend up on the offer,” you answer truthfully, “but most of the bars around here have a strict “no shirt no service policy.”

You know Penny wouldn’t care but still.

“I’ve got more in the cooler though. You can have one if you get me one too,” you wink before peeling off the soaking garment.

He swallows thickly as he watches before he shakes himself out of it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“So, I, uh…I’m Jake,” he says, handing you a beer. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m Reese,” you reply, shaking his hand after taking the bottle from him.

“Like the peanut butter cups?” He asks with a cheeky grin as he sits beside you in the sand.

“Wow,” you deadpan before taking a pull of your beer. “Never heard that one before.”You laugh at the dejected look on his face. “Yes, like the peanut butter cups.”

He laughs too, finally loosening up.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

It doesn’t take long for you to piece together that Jake’s younger than you and it’s obvious that he has no trouble keeping his bed warm. He learns quickly that you’re not easily impressed and changes his tune, turning the conversation toward you. You keep it vague, telling him you work in healthcare when he asks, knowing some men are easily intimidated by your degree, and in turn, he tells you he works in aviation.

Your heart pinches more than once as the afternoon passes. Your late husband, Andrew, had taken you to the beach for your first date and Jake reminds you so much of him; the way he makes you laugh; the charming cockiness when he talks about flying, the way he flirts and strokes your ego just right.

You hope your ego isn’t the only thing getting stroked when the sun begins to set. A shiver works through you, making you miss its warmth.

“Cold?” He asks as he rubs his rough, calloused palm over your arm. More goosebumps rise at his touch.

“A little,” you admit with a smile, but it quickly turns into a frown when you press your phone to check the time but it doesn’t light up. “Shoot, my phone died. So much for calling an Uber.”

“You can charge it at my place if you want. It’s not far,” he offers, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead.

“Sure, that’d be great,” you agree, knowing he’s offering more than a charger.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

He learn he was definitely offering more than the phone charger.

You ache in places you forgot existed as you reach for your phone buzzing on Jake’s nightstand.

Jake was better in bed than you expected.

He was a little quick on the draw the first time he had you with your back pressed against his front door, but he surprised you by dropping to his knees after he came, not even bothering to take the condom off. He’d paused at the thin line marring your lower stomach and you held your breath as you waited for him to comment or kick you out but he surprised you again by kissing your c-section scar instead before feasting between your legs like a man starved.

While you showered the sand and sticky residue of the beer off, he had ordered pizza.

After, he invited you to his bed with the excuse that your clothes were still in the dryer (even though you had both hard the buzzer). You’re not sure who fell asleep first, but you woke up a few hours later with his arms around you and his hard-on pressing against your ass.

You fell asleep after riding him, more relaxed than you had felt in years.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You sit up as you read the messages from your son.

Drew: Mom!! Grandma and Grandpa said we could home early!

Drew: They said we’d be home by 10 with our new flight.

Drew: Is that okay? I just missed you so much.

Drew: Mommmmm

Drew: We’re boarding now.

Mom: I missed you too! Of course, it’s okay! I can’t wait to see you. I love you so much.

You look at the time when your text fails to deliver, 9:18 AM.

Shit. Time to go.

Resisting the urge to whip off the covers and scramble, you slowly get out of Jake’s bed, not wanting to wake him.

You’re quiet as you find your clothes in the dryer and gather your things.

There’s a notepad and pen on the small table near the door and your heart stutters when you see the dog tags hanging next to his keys.

Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

US Naval Aviator.

Well. He did say he was in aviation.

Your phone buzzes again and you quickly scribble a note before heading out the door.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“Reese?” Jake murmurs, cracking his eyes open when he pats the bed, finding it cold.

“No way,” he mutters grumpily as he heads out of the bedroom to find the house empty and quiet.

The first woman he’d felt anything for in years snuck out while he was sleeping.

An orange sticky note stuck to the door catches his eye and he walks over to read:

Sorry to run out-something came up and I had to get home. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again soon though, lieutenant.

Jake smiles despite himself at the smiley face you drew beside your name and sighs before heading back to bed.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

A/N: Wellllll here’s the first part! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ☺️

I’m leaving early tomorrow morning for a 6 day girls trip (to the beach) so I might be slow to respond/update but who knows, maybe I’ll get bored 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you to @lexixstewart again for the meet-cute at the beach idea 🫶🏻

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist (sorry if I forget anyone, I won’t be mad if you remind me).

@lexixstewart

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[cl0wncakez]

something i find interesting about the buddha box episode is the few tweek and craig moments that are shown in it. but ive seen so many tiktoks and fanfics that people made about these scenes where they really mischaracterize both of them and miss the point of the episode entirely.

in the scene where cartman is telling craig about the box, craig says this line:

“well, i have to admit, sometimes when me and tweek are together, it’s like he wants my atte-“

And then cartman cuts him off by putting the box back on. that was when craig got the idea to get a box for himself. now obviously craig shouldn’t be taking any kind of advice from cartman of all people, but he went along with it anyways so he could get away from his own issues.

now, this is where people mischaracterize craig by a lot. the point that the writers were trying to show is that craig also has anxiety. yes, he’s in a relationship with tweek, but he’s still his own person who has his own issues to deal with. his entire existence is does not revolve around dating tweek. but whenever i see people making creek angst with the buddha box episode, they characterize craig as someone who is being purposely malicious, and ignoring tweek because he hates him or something along those lines.

but as we can see in moments like the episode “put it down,” he does try his best. something that south park fans seem to forget is that a lot of the characters, including tweek and craig, are 4th graders. and little kids often times aren’t the best at communicating their feelings or what they need. in “put it down” the main plot is that tweek and craig are struggling with communication. tweek is having extreme anxiety from tweets that the president made, and instead of trying to just be there and comfort him, craigs approach is to be more logical. obviously, that wasn’t what tweek needed, but we can still see that craig does try his best to be there and help his boyfriend.

and in the fractured but whole game, we can also see that craigs kryptonite is communication.

he oftentimes is very blunt and logical, and isn’t good at communicating about his and other people’s feelings.

so, when cartman was telling him about the buddha box, craig didn’t see it as something malicious. he saw it was a way to try and forget about his own anxiety. was it a good idea? of course it wasn’t, but he’s often mischaracterized by a lot of fans for a mistake that he made in the relationship.

[applesooyoung]

sub!ricky in lacey thigh highs *drools* it would be such a pretty sight

DOLLED UP — S.QR

Genre: Smut !! | Wc: 1.472k | AFAB!Reader

Contains: sub sugar daddy!Ricky x dom sugar baby!Reader, Ricky wears vibrators out in public oohlala, Brat Ricky, petnames (reader calls Ricky "Angel", "Kitten and "Kitty"), mommy kink, lowkey petplay cuz Ricky dresses up as a pretty kitty, dress up, slightly Ricky feminization if you squint (just a teensy bit), fingering, finger sucking, gagballs cuz we spicy LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING! ^^

A/N: I fucking love you for sending this ask jas, Istg ilysm that I turned your random Ricky hard thought into a full blown fic cuz I gotta make up for my absence and as a good friend, it is my job to relieve your Ricky brainrot, girlie 🤭 Hope u enjoyed this one~!

[Now playing: Kiss — NCT DOJAEJUNG]

꒷︶🖇 ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿💭 ‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

Shopping has always been a thing and a little bonding time for you and Ricky, and he absolutely loved spoiling you. Oftentimes enough, people assume that just because he's your sugar daddy, he definitely takes on more of a leading role in a relationship—a provider, perhaps.

But who would've thought that this aloof and intimidating aura was just a facade?

Just like your typical Friday shopping spree with Ricky (as if it's not a shopping spree every day with Ricky's money, but please, I beg to differ) when a bunch of girls stared at him as he's stunning, from his Khaki Ralph Lauren pants to his gold Rolex watch—he's a gold digger's wet dream.

As he pays for all of your stuff, you can see the cashier hitting on him, and being the little bratty shit he is, of course he entertained the woman and flirted back. The cashier compliments him on his physique and asks if he'd like to go out with her sometime. Ricky smirks, flirting right back with a wink and a suggestive tone in his voice.

This made your eye twitch, as he always loves to get on your nerves, especially when you're seeing it in real time. So in return, you put his vibrator on its max setting. He flinched a bit, but probably not enough to concern the cashier that he was flirting with, he felt a sudden surge of pleasure as the vibrator is turned on and placed at maximum speed. He gasps, then laughs nervously as he tries to regain his composure. "What was that, mommy?" 

To mask your jealousy and annoyance, you smiled at the cashier, walking away with your hands on his beautiful waist to show that Ricky only belongs to you and ONLY YOU. Oh, that confusion and disdain on the cashier's face made your ego grow tenfold.

"You sure do like pissing the shit out of me, don't you, Ricky?" you said with an innocent tone as you tossed all your purchases into the backseat of the car before taking the driver's seat. He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about, mommy?" He chuckles, knowing fully well that he loves getting a reaction out of you. He reaches over to place a hand on your thigh, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin. 

"You're on thin ice, Ricky, thin ice," you said before parking your car in the garage. You got outside of the car, letting Ricky carry all of your stuff, and of course, that's not it! No, no, no, no, no! As your bratty boy carries all of the stacks of shoes and dresses you bought, you play with the vibrator's speed. He tried to keep it in, but he failed. He could feel his cock throb with the sudden highs and lows of the vibrator stuck to his pathetic cock. All he can do is keep his whimpers on and carry all of your stuff.

As the night deepens, you continue to give him the silent treatment. Despite his attempts to make you talk to him with those gentle neck kisses and honey-coated words, you remain silent in your space. But he had an idea; he's so sure that once you lay your eyes on him, you won't be able to keep your hands off him. He wanted your attention, and what Ricky wants, Ricky gets.

You notice Ricky enter his closet; his unusual behavior catches your eye as he gets your attention away from your laptop, but you just brush it off as you're aware that he's trying to get your attention. "Mommy~" he sang in almost a whisper, "I know you're upset with me, mommy, and I came here to apologize." 

That sounded new, Ricky Shen. Apologizing for being a brat? No fucking way.

As you shifted your eyes from your laptop, your eyes glimmered. "As you're buying your red bottoms earlier, I was buying these thigh highs, and I thought you would like them on me. What do you think, Mommy?" He was all dolled up. His luscious strawberry lip gloss complemented his favorite strawberry lotion. He wore a simple white t-shirt, but he made it more slutty by wearing his cat ears decorated with cat bells. And of course, the highlight of his show was his new lacey thigh highs.

He was so pretty, you just wanted to devour him right then and there. "Come here." You wriggled your fingers as you signed him to come close to you, and he obediently complied. "You look so pretty, angel. Is this your little show for mommy?" He beams with pride at your compliment and nods. He was pleased that he'd managed to capture your gaze. Ricky steps closer, letting the material of his new clothes brush against your arm. 

"You get me every time, kitty," you whisper to him before placing kisses all over his body, irking him to let out a soft and breathy moan. A shiver runs down his spine. He's caught off guard by the sudden show of affection and feels a warmth spread through him. "Thank you, Mommy." 

You could see his visible erection in his lace pants that matched his lovely thigh highs. "All that ignoring made you this hard, huh?" you softly mumbled before latching on his lips while stroking his now-exposed sex. His cheeks flush red at the sight of your gaze on his lace panties, and he can't help but feel a little embarrassed, yet all of the pleasure overrides any embarrassment as you stroke him through the silky fabric. "Hey, careful now..."

"Shh, I'll make sure you get what pretty little brats like you deserve." You traced your fingers on his jaw to his elegant collarbones. You got his gagball from the box inside your dresser and put it on him. Ricky's eyes widen in surprise as he feels the gag ball press against his lips, cutting off his words. He looks at you with a mix of desire and submission, intrigued by what's happening. "Mmmph," he mumbles around the gag, his eyes locked on yours; he was a sight to see.

 

"You asked for my attention, didn't you?" You let out a quiet, sadistic chuckle before bending him over your lap and starting to finger him. He gasped softly as he felt your fingers go in and out of him; his cheeks burned with embarrassment, but his cock twitched with each stroke of your fingers. You fastened the pace even more. His cock is rock hard and leaking all over with his precum.

You removed his gag to reveal all of his drool; he was so fucking into it. You tentatively took it off and made him suck your fingers while you stuck the vibrator on his filthy length and uttered, "Suck." Together with his hazy eyes, his mouth eagerly obeyed your commands and sucked your fingers. His body rocks with each thrust, his cries growing louder and more desperate. He's completely under your control, his mind and body consumed by pleasure. "Oh, f-fuck, mommy, more!" His cock is throbbing, the vibrations making him squirm with need.

 

Still thrusting your fingers, you leave kisses all over his back and his neck. This gave him shivers, adding more to his sensory overload; his body tenses, on the brink of release. They were so intense, and the feeling of your fingers inside him is almost too much. Everything about your room right now is so slutty; the moans of the pretty boy across your lap, infused with the tinkling noise of his cat bells, are enough to make you go crazy.

You remove your fingers from his mouth before putting the gag back into his mouth. You finger him faster, and unsurprisingly, this action made him cum in seconds, his orgasm tears through him. His beautiful brown eyes rolled back in his head as he released himself onto the bed and vibrator, you removed his gag. "God, mommy, you ruined me." He managed to make you chuckle even in his messed-up state. 

 

You leave a kiss on his cheek as he collapses on your shared bed. Catching his breath as he desperately gasps for air, "You did so well, Kitty," you cooed as he leaned and indulged in your touch. "Really?" He then looks up at you with a mix of awe and disbelief in his eyes, his usual smug demeanor replaced with a raw vulnerability.

"Get up," you said in a commanding manner as Ricky looked at you with his tired and hazy eyes. The shift in your demeanor was so sudden that all he could do was obey. "Yes, Mommy," he manages to croak out in a weak voice, still reeling from the intense pleasure you just gave him. You put him in place, aligning him with your strap. "We're just getting started, kitten."

© applesooyoung

[ghostsxagain]

the whole thing was really quite amusing on so many levels. neither one of them needed the artifacts, especially not for financial reasons. they were doing this simply because they could, because it was fun to be menaces. it wasn't like oliver held any great love for humans and their culture anyway, with the exception of his son of course. "I don't understand why you're bothering yourself with the torch in the first place. aren't vampires supposed to have excellent vision in the dark?" oliver teases with a snort. any chance he gets to poke at his best friend, he takes. it's one of many signs of his affection for the other man. he shows his love with banter, that's a thing. "your spidey senses are tingling? radar for treasures going off? my my, you're quite the talented individual, aren't you emmett, dear?" oliver actually chuckles at himself this time as he playfully bumps emmett's shoulder with his own. "I hope we find an arsenal of goodies, otherwise I'm never letting you live that giggle down, just so you're aware."

closed starter for @ghostsxagain

"c'mon, it's around here somewhere..." he trails off with his whispers, sensing the area was filled to the brim with artifects they could find and sell on for money. not that he needed money, it was more the rush that he was after. doing exactly what he shouldn't have been doing. taking risks and teetering over dangerous lines. he holds his torch down low, not wanting to arouse too much attention nor suspicion. as bad as he liked to behave, he would try not to let them get caught. he cared about oliver enough, even if he knew he could take good care of himself. he was his best friend in the whole world and he had been for as long as he could recall. for about as long as he'd known him. an actual giggle erupts from the back of his throat, and one would be excused for thinking he was a teenager, not a grown vampire who'd scoured the planet for...centuries. "we're close....i can feel it."

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

Surprise ~

William Afton/Steve Raglan x gn!reader

Summary: Your older brother doesn��t return from his nightshift and, unbeknownst to you, your little sister Abby sneaks out, so you go to the one place you think they might be, Fazbears.

TW!

Dub-con, implied character death, violence, swearing, angst-ish, creepy old man in a fursuit.(tell me if I missed any)

(Just saying this is rlly long bc I’ve had this idea in my hollow head for a while now- one of those bedtime scenarios yk and ik it’s bad but just trust me🥲)

!Not proofread!

~~~~~~

Puddles of rain water seeping into your ragged shoes as you raced through the parking lot. The rain hit your coat with a thud as you rushed over to the main entrance which, to your dismay, was locked.

“Shit..”

Mumbling incoherent swears, you finally had an epiphany. You raced to the side of the building, lifting the heavy steel garage door with a grunt and forcing yourself under it before it slammed shut.

“Hello..?” You called out into the void in front of you. A shiver ran down your spine as a draft from the restaurant slid up your back. With heavy steps echoing as you walked across the glossy yet dirty floor, unsteadily braced and ready for action. “Abby? Mike?” You called out as you opened the doors ahead of you.

Heart racing, you wearily stepped forward. Your dad had always told you about Freddys, it wasn’t what you had pictured when he told those dramatised stories. He never showed you pictures, never allowed you to go to it despite it being not too far away from your home.

When your brother told you about the job offer he had been given your heart sunk- it only cracked the linoleum floor in your kitchen when you were told to come and keep an eye on Abby with him on duty because Max hadn’t shown up. That night you watched your brother and sister doze off, giving you the chance to finish your book. Your sister woke up around 3-4ish and needed the toilet so you walked her. On the way back you found what you believed to be the reason for your father’s secrecy on the topic of this hellscape. Watching the creatures jolt to life and race toward you and your sister was less than enlightening.

Someone shook you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh for god’s sake, Mikey- don’t do that.”

“Y/N, it’s not safe here.”

A light scoff escaped you as your crossed your arms. “Mikey, if it’s dangerous why’re you here with Abbie?”

Mike fumbled for his words before you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist.

Abby’s soft sobbing, her tears staining your shirt. Pulling her close, you tried your best to console her. Her incoherent mumbling about the robots trying to hurt her made your head snap over Mike with a concerned look and Vanessa not too far away seeming guilty offered a small apologetic smile.

Before Mike could even try to fill you in on what’s happened in the last half hour, your heads all shot over as loud footsteps emerged from the darkness near the entrance.

A grossly low, robotic chuckle bellowed from the black sheet of night that covered the area in front of you. Two glowing eyes slunk their way forward, searching the room before settling on the four of you.

Your grip on Abby tightened as you backed away from the intimidating figure who trudged towards the four of you.

“Ah…so they were right.” The Golden Bunny spoke roughly, “The little ones told me you had a sister..but not another sibling, Mikey.” His voice like venom as he spat out the nickname, as if it were offensive.

Vanessa created a barrier between you, Abby and the furry, aiming her gun at it as well for safe measure.

Your breath hitched as Mike ran forward and shot at the thing with a taser, but to no avail. The monster hardly even flinched, a menacing breath slipped out as it swatted the taser away as if it were a worthless fly. Mike swiftly backed away, almost in line with you and Abby before the creature kicked him to the floor.

“Now, this is priceless.” The creature taunted as it’s attention swerved to Vanessa who stood her ground in front of you, “A bit too old to be playing with toys, eh, Vanessa?”

“Dad, stop this. Just let them leave, please.” Vanessa glanced over her shoulder to Abby and you, giving a small, reassuring smile as she did.

Abby leapt out your arms and over to Mike, wrapped her arms around him and squeezing tight. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks as you followed her, watching your brother writhe in pain. The room was void of all sound except breathing as you and your baby sister attempted to wake your brother up so you could run together.

Abby smiled softly as Mike’s eyes opened. In a gentle voice Mike began telling you two to hide. While you were all for taking your brother’s advice, all Abby wanted to do was stay and help him get better.

Without hesitation, you grabbed Abby and began pulling her out the way. You yelped as you heard an argument break out between the Rabbit and Vanessa, ending in Vanessa’s gun being fired and a loud thud, which you hoped and prayed was the robot.

“Where do you two think you’re going.?” The Rabbit yelled out.

You spun around and glared at the robot before taking off down a hall, practically pulling Abby behind you.

A glimpse of metal on the wall caught your eye as you looked around. A vent. Rushing over, you tore the vent cover off the wall, letting the loose screws fly across the floor. As the vent cover hit the floor, you instinctively turned away. The vibrant smell of mildew and blood flowed through and filled the hallway.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart raced as you heard the screws shake and swivel with each step that thing took. Making it’s tauntingly slow approach to you and Abby.

You hurried Abby into the vent and told her to get to the security office and lock the door, assuring her you’d be right behind her the whole way.

Thump, thump, thump.

Its pace quickened as it reached the corner.

Abby’s voice called out for you, bringing you out of your stunned state and causing you to get on your knees and start crawling.

“Not so fast~”

Abby shot around as she heard your scream. Fear was prominent in her watery eyes as she watched the robot pull you back out. She crawled quickly over to you and grabbed your hand, trying to pull you back in.

“Abby, I-I’ll be fine, get to the office and throw things against the door- do not let anyone in!”

“But-”

“Go to the security room now!”

Her eyes welled with tears as she watched her sibling let go of her hand and be dragged off by some golden suited freak. As worried as she was, she knew you had the right idea. Abby hurriedly scampered off to the office and left you to your fate.

~~~~

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He growled into your ear. With his mask off, you could see him properly. Ocean blue eyes, messy greying hair, if it weren’t for the scenario you would’ve been mesmerised by this man.

The situation hit you as you felt his hand trail down your body, outlining your figure and pinning you down under his body. You felt the coarse fabric rub against your hips and thighs as he lifted your clothes to ‘feel’ your skin.

Your breathing constricted even more as he leaned down, his heavy suit adding pressure to your chest, with his lips hovering above yours.

It was difficult for you to even think of what was going through his mind as he pinned you there for what seemed like hours.

“Get the fuck off me!” You barked out in a small, wheezy voice.

“Ooh, feisty as well as pretty, I love that. I’ll have fun putting you in your place.”

A shiver ran up your spine as he spoke. Despite how absolutely mortified you are at the moment, pinned to the floor beneath a murderer who is set on ending you and your family, you noticed a warmth building inside your core.

“Y’know,” his lips slowly teased your own as he let them drag across your skin all the way down to your jaw. He slowly sat up and straddled you.

Suddenly, the lining of your jeans was lifted, two fingers slipped down to tug on the hem of your underwear. The bunny-man trailed his robotic fingers across your body, from your crotch to your chest only to rest on your chin. His grip tight around your jaw as he pulled you close enough to feel his breath on your face.

“I think I’ll keep you.”

~~~~~~

2/12/23 Saturday 05:59

[scotianostra]

Lovely colourful wildflowers att the side of the canal path near Harrison Park today.

[wolfjackle-creates]

The Two Ghost Motel

So, as I mentioned, I joined the DP Ecto-Implosion Event this past month and it's Posting Week now! So I get to finally share with you the first chapter of my fic. Still working on editing the second half of the fic, but it's fully written as of this time.

For those who don't know, for the Ecto-Implosion event, artists drew/animated/composed some piece of art and writers then went in and wrote fics based off their art.

I was lucky enough to be paired with the super talented @i-think-in-metaphors who made this gorgeous artwork:

You can read on AO3 here (this fic is not locked to AO3 users only).

And for those of you who prefer to read on Tumblr:

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Minor Original Character Death (not in this chapter)

Fandom: DPxDC (though no knowledge of DC is necessary for this fic. I use a single character and he has amnesia, it takes place in an original setting or Amity)

Summary:

Danny is tired. Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over. “I’m fine, Ember.” Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really. But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel. He checks in. “Welcome.”

-----

Danny wasn’t sure when he first saw the neon sign. Honestly, he didn’t even realize it was something ghostly when he did. He just thought it was one more ghost-themed business that had come to Amity since the portal opened.

But when he mentioned the motel to Sam and Tucker, they looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’ve never heard of any Two Ghost Motel,” said Sam. “Where’d you see it?”

Tucker was typing into his PDA. “Nothing’s coming up online, either.”

“Oh come on, you’re pulling my leg. We’ve passed it at least a half dozen times. Last night when we were leaving Nasty Burger for one! And I think, what, three nights before that? On patrol? Where were we?”

“Dude, that night we were near the library. No where near Nasty Burger. No way you could’ve seen the same place both nights,” said Tucker.

“Danny, when was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Sam’s brow was knit in concern.

Danny waved off her concern. “Whatever. I know I’ve seen it. The sign is bright pink and orange with blue ghosts on it.”

Sam just shrugged and shook her head. “Point it out next time you see it.”

Before Danny could reply, his ghost sense went off and he groaned. “Ugh, looks like someone’s around. I’m too tired for this.” Danny glanced around. They were in the park and no humans were nearby so he let his transformation wash over him.

He flew into the air and tried to listen past the sound of his breaths echoing through his mask. Even though he didn’t breathe when transformed, something about the hazmat suit remembered and the sound was inescapable.

A guitar chord played behind him and Danny instinctively threw up a shield and fell ten feet right as a blast from Ember’s instrument headed his way.

“Hey there, baby-pop!” she called. “I was sitting around, bored out of my mind, when I remembered I could just come here to have some fun!”

Danny turned to face her. “Come on, Ember.” His voice always sounded so robotic when filtered through the mask. “I’m tired.”

“Too bad. I’m not.” She grinned at him and strummed a few notes, sending more attacks his way.

Danny dodged, only to have to watch one of the blasts hit a bench and destroy it. He flew higher, hoping her next attacks wouldn’t cause more collateral that would be blamed on him.

“What, you just gonna dance around like that? Come on, attack back!”

“My moves not good enough for you?”

“You need to step it up if you want to be my back up dancer.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh and when she sent her next blast his way, he avoided it by doing a backwards dive towards the ground only to circle back up until he was facing her. “How’s that?”

“Better, but you’re still not there. Your moves have to match the music!” She played a tune with a fast beat and Danny dodged and spun. And if he added some flair to his movements, well, he deserved the chance to have a little fun.

Another blast his way, and he twisted his hips. Matching Ember’s beat, he sent a few ectoblasts back at her.

Ember laughed. “Now you’re catching on!”

Danny allowed himself a quick glance down where he saw Sam and Tucker not even trying to hide. Tucker was filming them.

Which, of course, is when it all had to be ruined by the unmistakable sounds of the GAV driving cross-country.

“Through the park?” he moaned. “Seriously?”

“Shit, that’s your folks, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“You’ve got it, babypop. I came here for fun, not to mess with them.”

The GAV came to a stop and Danny saw his mom rush out of the passenger side with one of their new, long-distance guns. He tacked Ember, only just getting her out of the way of the blast.

Without any discussion, both turned invisible and flew out of the park. Danny didn’t let them stop until they were in a forest out of range of his parents’ trackers. Exhaustion set back in as soon as he realized they were safe, and he just plopped down on the ground and leaned against a tree.

“Ready to resume your dancing lessons?” asked Ember.

Danny groaned and rested his head against the rough bark. It was probably stupid, but he let his eyes close. “Maybe next time. I meant it when I said I’m tired.”

She didn’t say anything as one, two, three breaths sounded from his mask. And then he heard some leaves rustle. He cracked open an eye to see Ember making herself comfortable on the ground a few feet away.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Finals are coming up and if I don’t do well, I’m going to fail sophomore year.”

“Y’know, I’ve heard of a place…”

Danny waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he hummed. “A place?”

“Yeah. Haven’t been there myself. But, there’s this place. It’s for ghosts who aren’t ready to move on from Earth just yet. Ghosts who live only on Earth without ever going the Zone get tired and weak. There’s just not enough ectoplasm around. Except for here, of course.”

“So what’s this place do?”

“Gives you somewhere to rest. And recharge. It’s not really on Earth. It’s a sort of in between place. Called the Two Ghost Motel. Might be worth checking in for a night if you ever don’t want to be at home for one reason or another.”

Danny hummed. “I’ve seen it around. Thought it was just a regular motel, but Sam and Tucker didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Ember picked out a tune on her guitar, but this time no attacks emanated from it. “It’s not a place for the living from what I’ve heard. Just the dead.”

Danny looked up at the stars through the tree branches, but he shook his head. “I’m fine, Ember. Just need to get some sleep.”

“Whatever you say, baby-pop.”

---

After that conversation with Ember, the motel began basically haunting him. Every night, as soon as dusk started to fall, he’d see it. Always a few streets away, just sitting there calling to him; it’s sign bright in the dark.

Sam and Tucker couldn’t see it, no matter how often he pointed it out to him. Jazz could sometimes see something out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked on more directly, it was never there.

Danny never approached. He was fine. He had a home and friends. There was no reason to go to some random motel.

Finals came and went. He managed to scrape by with at least Cs in everything. His parents, especially his mom, had not been happy with those grades, but Danny was just glad to have passed.

Didn’t stop him from being grounded and forced to help out more in the lab. One afternoon, he was in his room playing Doomed with Sam and Tucker when he got a message from his parents calling him back down to help them out.

“Ugh, I’ve got to go down to the lab.”

“Seriously?” complained Tucker. “Again?”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “Seems you’re always off helping them lately. Can’t you say no?”

“It’s this or having my phone and computer taken away. I’ll take the lab work.” He saved his progress. “Will you guys be on later?”

“Can’t,” said Sam. “My parents are forcing me to go to a fancy dinner somewhere. And they’re not giving me any more information than that to keep me from planning anything disruptive.”

“And mine have declared we’re having a tech-free family bonding night,” said Tucker, rolling his eyes. “With board games! Who plays board games in this day and age?”

Danny laughed. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, then. Later.”

Danny signed off and went downstairs. The hazmat suits were kept in a closet right next to the door to the lab, and Danny went through the process of pulling it all on. The mask that came with it was even more annoying in human form than ghost. The filtered air always tasted strange, but he’d given up complaining about that years ago.

He unlocked the lab door and went down to the lab.

“Dan-o!” called his dad as soon as he saw him. “Come here! You’re job will be to control the current!”

“Uh, current?” asked Danny.

“We’re trying to figure out how to disrupt the electrical signal in ectoplasm that gives ghosts their shape,” explained his mom. She had a bowl of ectoplasm in a glass terrarium and was arranging two metal probes so they dipped into it.

“Exactly!” agreed his dad. “So you’re going to sit at this computer”—he pulled out a chair before one of the lab computers and gestured for Danny to sit—“and adjust the frequency and voltage.”

Danny took a seat and stared at the program that was loaded on the screen. At least he wouldn’t be anywhere near the probes? A glance at the puddle of ectoplasm had him holding back a shudder.

“First we’re going to try and force the ectoplasm to form a shape,” continued his mom. “We’re going to do that with probe A. You’re going to start with a low frequency and voltage and slowly increase it while your father and I mark down how it affects the ectoplasm. We have some hypotheses about when it’ll start to form a shape.”

“And once it forms a shape,” said his dad, “you’ll use probe B to send a contrary electrical signal to destabilize it!”

“And then no more ghost!”

Suddenly Danny was glad his suit had a face mask. His parents were going to do what? Figure out how to use electricity to destabilize ghosts? It wasn’t possible. There was no way it could work. Right? He had to stay and prove to himself they were talking crazy.

“What—” His mouth was dry and he had to try again. “How should I start?”

“The settings are already loaded,” said his mom. She grabbed a tablet and sat down in front of the terrarium.

Dad sat next to her, grinning widely. “Go ahead, Dan-o!”

Danny’s hand shook as he placed it on the mouse. He sat on the other to hide it. Then he turned on the probe.

At first, nothing happened. The ectoplasm stayed a puddle and there was no visible change in it. But as he adjusted the current, it began to ripple. His parents loudly exclaimed over every change as they shouted instructions back to him.

Each change had Danny’s heart beating harder in his chest.

Two hours in is when it happened. The ectoplasm started to form a ball that rose up out of the bowl. Danny could feel something cold in the back of his throat. Not his ghost sense, but something close.

“This is it!” yelled his dad. “Danny, what’re the settings?”

Once more, Danny was glad for the way the mask muffled his voice just enough to mask how horrified he was by the thing that was forming. His parents’ theories about electrical currents couldn’t be true. They couldn’t.

“Now for us to try disrupting the current!” The glee in his mom’s voice made bile rise in Danny’s throat. But when she told him to turn on probe B, he did.

It only took twenty minutes to find the settings that made the ectoplasm fall apart back into a puddle.

Danny was up on his feet, chair toppled, in an instant. He held a gloved hand to his masked face as if he could keep from throwing up with the motion alone. It had looked so much like Ellie when she was destabilizing.

“Danny?” asked his mom, tablet forgotten on her chair as she rushed over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I… I’m feeling a bit sick. Can I, can I go? Bathroom?”

His mom reached out to brush a hand over his covered forehead as if to check his temperature. “Oh sweetie, of course you can. You should’ve told us you weren’t feeling well. There’s some soup in the fridge if you think you can eat that.”

“I— yeah. Thanks.” He didn’t wait to hear anything else she had to say and just ran up the stairs. He shed his gear in record time and ran all the way up to his room. He slammed the door shut and grabbed his backpack from where it hung on his desk chair.

With shaking hands, he took out everything in the main compartment. Then he ran to his dresser and grabbed a change of clothes and something to sleep in. He couldn’t stay here right now. He just couldn’t.

From the bathroom, he grabbed some toiletries and added those.

Less than fifteen minutes after leaving the lab, he was out the front door and walking down the street. It was late, dusk starting to fall.

He considered going to Nasty Burger to get some dinner, but then he remembered the way the ball of ectoplasm had melted and he changed directions. Eventually his wandering brought him to the park where he found a bench in an empty area and sat down, dropping his backpack at his feet.

Danny buried his face in his hands as he forced himself to just breathe. He and Tucker could mess with the results from these experiments just like they had so many times in the past. It was going to be fine.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Mom said you weren’t feeling well? Jazz: Where’d you go? You’re not in your room. Danny: Sorry, Jazz. I had to get out of the house. Danny: Ask mom and dad about today’s experiments. Danny: You’ll understand why. I’m gonna spend the night at Tuck’s. Jazz: Okay. See you tomorrow? Danny: Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow. Jazz: Love you.

Of course, Tucker was having a family night. He couldn’t crash that. And Sam’s parents had banned him from their house. Where would he spend the night?

And then he noticed it. Right outside the park glowed the sign: Two Ghost Motel.

He was on his feet and walking there before he’d even consciously made the decision to go. A glance around showed he was alone, that night had fully fallen on Amity so he let his transformation wash over him.

He reached the street and, for the first time, was staring directly at the motel rather than catching glimpses from a block or two away. The parking lot had a few cars in it, the oldest looking like it might’ve been from the twenties with the newest looking like it was ten or fifteen years old.

A glance in either direction showed no cars coming, so Danny crossed the street.

As soon as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, Danny could feel a change in the air. It was nothing obvious, but something integral was different. The sounds of the city were muffled, the sense of life dulled. The air felt lighter and the door seemed to call to him. Most importantly, it was easier to push away the memories from his afternoon in the lab.

The sign, when he reached it, buzzed softly in the night. He held a hand up towards it and felt an echoing buzz under his skin.

He stared at the lights for a moment more before continuing towards the building at the other end of the lot. It hadn’t been repaved in ages and was riddled with cracks. But the plants that grew up through them weren’t the normal grasses and dandelions. He wished Sam were with him to help him identify them.

Instead he knelt down and pulled out his phone to take a picture. They glowed slightly in the night, their stems ectoplasm-green with blue leaves and red bulbs. Danny reached out to touch one, only for the bulb to open and snap at his finger.

Danny laughed in surprise as he pulled his hand away. Something inside him relaxed. A night away would do him good and maybe he’d see other cool things besides the flowers.

The motel itself was a long, two-story building. The main entrance was smack in the middle of the building with rows of rooms extending to either side. Next to the office, a passageway through the building led to the back side of the building and had stairs leading up to the second level. It was clearly old, worn in the way only time could do.

The office door wasn’t automatic and the handle stuck slightly under his hand when he tried to turn it. But just a little bit of force had it opening.

Inside, the carpet was worn, beaten down and dull in the middle. The walls were covered in floral wallpaper rather than paint. Against one wall buzzed an ice machine and against the other sat a vending machine. A man with slicked back hair and a cane stared at the vending machine without moving. A two-seater couch was next to the vending machine with a wooden coffee table in front of it. Two women sat side-by-side on it: one in modern jeans and a windbreaker, the other in an old-fashioned dress that looked like it may have come from the sixties. They were holding magazines, but in the time it took Danny to look around, neither had flipped a page.

Cutting off the back of the room was a long desk, behind which sat a closed door. A woman sat behind the desk. Her blonde hair was cut shoulder length and curled inward. She wore bright red lipstick and heavy eye shadow. But strangest of all, she wasn’t moving. Her chest didn’t raise with her breathing, she didn’t shift in her seat. The women on the couch, at least, made the little movements people make when they’re engrossed in their reading. And the man at the vending machine was tapping his fingers on his cane as he tried to decide what to get.

But the woman at the counter was utterly still.

“Evening.” Danny’s voice was loud in the small room.

The woman in modern clothes cocked her head slightly as if trying to hear a distant noise.

“What are you reading?” Danny asked her.

She just shook her head slightly and looked back at her magazine. Slowly, she turned a page.

“Oh-kay,” said Danny to himself. He walked past them as he made his way to the desk.

As soon as he reached it, the woman came to life. She turned and smiled broadly at him and her finger started tapping on a paper log book that sat in front of her. “Well hello there. Welcome to the Two Ghost Motel!” She had a slight southern accent. “What can I do you for?”

“Uh, well. I heard you might have a room I could rent for the night.”

“Sure do,” she agreed with a nod. “Can certainly set you up with one of those.” She looked him up and down then nodded to herself. “Ah, yes. We knew you might need a place soon so we made sure you’d be able to find us. Glad to see you finally stopped in.”

“What, uh, what do you know about me?”

“Same as we know about any of our potential patrons, sweetie. That you’re a restless spirit that isn’t ready to pass on yet. Two Ghost was set up to give you a place to rest while you’re still on Earth.”

“How much would it cost for one night?”

The receptionist threw back her head and laughed. Her teeth were sharper than a normal human’s. Behind him, another voice joined in the laughter. Danny turned to see the modern-dressed woman was finally looking at him, though it was only to laugh at him.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and smiled self-consciously. “I take it that was a stupid question?”

“Honey, there’s no charge for spending the night. Wouldn’t be much of a place to rest if we forced y’all to pay when no dead has money.”

“Right. So do you want anything in exchange? I’m pretty good at fixing things up.”

“All we want is for you to have a good night’s rest.” She turned the log book around. “I’ll just need you to put down your name here and I’ll give you your key.” She waved her hand to indicate a pen that was chained to the desk.

Danny grabbed it and hesitated just a moment before signing “Phantom” on the page. The ink was ectoplasm-green.

She took the book back and made her own marks before smiling at him. “Well that’s all in order. Now just to get you your room key.” She opened a drawer which was filled with a number of small envelopes, each with a handwritten number on them. She flipped through a few before stopping on one, seemingly at random, and pulling it out. “You’ll be in room 214. Leave the office, take a right. You can’t miss the stairs. Climb ‘em, continue to the back side of the motel, and take a right.”

Danny took the envelope from her. On it, the numbers 214 were written, with Two Ghost Motel in cursive below it. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Enjoy your stay at Two Ghost,” she smiled one more time at him, then looked down at her logbook and froze exactly as she had been when he’d first entered.

“I appreciate your help. You sure there’s nothing I can do in exchange for the room?”

But the woman didn’t stir again. Danny shifted from foot to foot. Should he try and wake her? Was she hurt? Was this a normal ghost thing? He tapped on the desk again.

“Ma’am?”

No response.

Danny looked down at his key and back at the woman. Hesitantly, he turned towards the door, but he couldn’t help looking back frequently. He paused by the women on the couch, but neither looked up from their magazines. At the vending machine, he peered around the man.

“Do they have anything that looks good?” he asked.

The man didn’t move, so Danny shifted until he was standing right next to him and could look inside the machine.

The bottom two rows were filled with drinks, water and Gatorade took up space right next to shots of ectoplasm. And were those beers? What? Above those were a few types of nuts and candy bars and chips. Danny only recognized half the brands.

Then he noticed the package of bottle caps. “Oh man, been ages since I’ve had some bottle caps. Mind if I grab those if you haven’t decided yet?”

The man hummed and moved to the side so Danny could get to the bill input and number pad.

“Thanks, sir! Appreciate it.” He pressed the numbers for the candy to see the price, but the machine whirled to life and it was dropped down without requiring Danny to put in a single cent. “Oh, shit, did I just use your money? What do you like? I’ll get it for you as an apology.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” said the man. His voice was very quiet, but clear. Danny couldn’t place his accent.

“Are you looking for a snack or a drink? Sweet or savory?”

“My son always pretended he didn’t like sweets. I was going back to him. How did I end up here?”

“Dunno, sir. But if you like candy, I’d recommend the skittles if you want chewy, m&m’s if you want basic chocolate.” He opened his own package. “Hold out your hand, I’ll give you a few of these so you can see if you like them.”

The man did and looked at his own hand as if he’d never seen it before. Danny turned his package so a few bottlecaps fell out. “Thank you,” said the man.

“Sure thing. Hope you enjoy!”

The man stared at his hand a moment longer before bringing one to his mouth and chewing the candy with a pensive look on his face. “I think I remember these, but it’s been so long. Thank you.”

“Anytime. My name’s Phantom; I’m in room 214 if you need anything.”

“Phantom. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Tom.”

“Well, Mr. Tom, hope you find something to eat that you like.”

Tom hummed and turned back to look at the vending machine. Danny took one last look at the receptionist, still entirely frozen, before slipping out the door. He slipped the package of bottlecaps into his pocket; he’d eat them in his room when he could take his mask off. In the passageway to the back of the motel, two boys played jacks under a flood light.

Danny couldn’t help but pause to watch them. He’d tried playing a few times when he was younger, but Tucker wasn’t into the game and none of the other kids had been willing to spend enough time with the weird ghost-hunter’s kid to teach him.

He waited until the kid who’d been picking up the jacks tossed them back on the ground before asking, “So, who’s winning?”

Both boys looked up at him with the same blank expression. The one on the right was a red-head while the one on the left was brown haired. They were about the same age, maybe ten years old and Danny wondered what happened to bring them here.

“I never learned to play,” Danny admitted, waving a hand to indicate their game. “So I don’t know how to tell. Or, is there even a winner in jacks? I might be completely off the mark.”

The red-head raised his hand. “I’m wining. I’m on the foursies round. Alan is only on twosies.”

“Matt cheated and made me drop my jacks.”

“It wasn’t cheating, just strategy,” protested Matt.

“Cheating,” repeated Alan.

“Prove it by beating your threesies round perfectly this time.”

Danny smiled to himself as the boys returned to their game and ignored his presence entirely.

“How’d you do that?” asked someone behind him.

Danny spun around to see a boy around his own age on the stairs leaning over the railing. He had dark hair and light eyes and was dressed in modern jeans and a t-shirt.

“Do what?” asked Danny.

“Get them to talk to you. Everyone ignores me entirely.”

Danny glanced back at the two boys who were entirely absorbed in their game and not paying Danny or the stranger any attention. “They’re mostly ignoring me, too.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “But they still talked to you. I haven’t even gotten that much.”

Danny shrugged. “I just asked them about their game.”

He groaned and kicked at the railing. “I’ve tried that. Who’re you, anyway?”

“I’m Phantom. Staying here for the night because, well, just because. Who’re you?”

“Jay.”

Danny cocked his head. “Like the bird?”

Jay’s eyes widened in surprise, then he grinned back. “That’s it! I knew I was forgetting something. I’m a bird. Thanks, Phantom.”

Danny laughed. “Sure thing, birdie.” He adjusted his backpack. “Let me put this down. I’m in room 214. What’s there to do in this motel?”

Jay shrugged. “More if you can get the other people to talk to us. But the TV always has your favorite show or movie on and the vending machine in the office always has your favorite snacks.”

As Danny made his way up the stairs, Jay fell in step besides him. “What’s your favorite movie?” he asked.

Jay shrugged again. “Dunno. But every time I turn on the TV it’s playing.”

“What did you watch last, then?”

Jay hesitated a moment and when Danny looked at him, he was frowning. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t forget things. My d— Someone made sure I could give accurate reports. But I don’t remember.” He looked at Danny with his brow furrowed. “Why don’t I remember?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, when we get to my room, we can turn on the TV and see what comes on.”

Jay brightened immediately at the suggestion. “Duh! That’ll remind me. Thanks, Phantom! Come on, your room’s this way. We’re neighbors; I’m in 215.” He jogged the rest of the way up the stairs so Danny had to speed up, too.

At the top of the stairs, Jay took a right and Danny’s door was several down.

“Home sweet home,” he said, gesturing to the door.

Danny laughed as he unlocked it. “So how long have you been here?” He pushed open his door and took in the space. The carpet looked like it hadn’t been upgraded since the seventies. A double bed sat against one wall covered by a faded, green paisley quilt. A low dresser and box TV against the opposite wall. Most of the wall facing the walkway was taken up with a large window, though the closed blinds kept it private.

It wasn’t until Danny stepped in and dropped his bags on the bed that he realized Jay had neither responded nor followed him in.

“Birdie? Jay? You okay?”

Jay was frozen outside the door staring out into the distance away from the motel. The back of the motel had very few lights, and the night made it seem like there was nothing out there but endless black. When Danny called out, Jay shook himself and grinned as he entered the room and sat down on Danny’s bed with enough force to bounce. “Course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You spaced out there for a minute.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. Where’s your remote?” Before Danny could do anything, Jay was already standing and picking it up from the dresser. He turned on the TV. “Oooh, the Godfather! Told you it always has your favorite movie.”

“So The Godfather is your favorite?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it all the way through.”

“Then you’re in for a treat! Come on, sit next to me. I’ll make sure you notice all the good parts.”

Danny did as told. Which is when he remembered he still had the candy. Wordlessly, he held it out to Jay who grinned as he took a few to snack on.

-----

Chapter 2

Hope you enjoyed chapter 1! This was so much fun to write. I loved taking part in the event so much. Please consider checking out the rest of the art and fics from this event because there are so many talented people who took part. (My reading list is gonna be filled for at least the rest of the year, no lie.)

Just search the tag #ectoimplosion2023 to see what I mean.

[imeternallylove]

Secret - S.Holmes; Prologue

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Genre: purely angst, upcoming age and some smut

Warning: none

Word: approx 700

main mastetlist  | request & ask | prompts | theme song

Chapters index

prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part night | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | epilogue

You should never have had slept with Sherlock Holmes.

From the moment you mistakenly kissed after a long night of drinking, it was a downhill spiral of secret meetings in the private study room – not studying – and late hours in the lab room – not practising. All of your friends warned you that it would only end in a heap of tears over a destroyed friendship.

But you couldn't help yourself. Sherlock left you wanting more: a junkie infatuated with the pleasure.

Because the way that his thighs bumped against you and his strict tremulous voice empowered you to give him every part of yourself., twice. So far, you both have been quite thirsty.

Everything had been wonderful in your life. You were ready to graduate from high school, you had your entire summer planned out, and when autumn arrived, you were going to pack your paints and go to Liverpool to pursue a career as an artist. And suddenly it was all collapsing around you, one fantasy after another turning to dust and vanish in the blink of an eye. 

"Do you have any trophies?" You stuttered in astonishment, your legs giving way from beneath you and allowing your body to fall to the bench.

It was a chilly Tuesday evening, and you were sitting in the park midway between your house and Sherlock, exactly as he had requested. He seemed anxious on the phone, but Sherlock was always like that, like the time he called you at 3 a.m. and forced you to come over just to be sure he didn't have a third nipple. Even so, you hastened to get ready and see him since he was your best friend and you needed him by your side.

And he was about to leave you.

You understood how important this was to him. Even you and everyone else who knows him would agree that the lab is his second home. You knew how hard he had worked for an opportunity like this, and you wanted to be happy for him, but hearing him tell you about the best news of his life made you sick. If Sherlock was accepted into Boston University, he'd leave you behind to cope with your mess of a life.

Sherlock sat down beside you, knees brushing up against yours as he moved as close to you as possible. “Yeah, isn’t it amazing? I was just scolded Mycroft that I hate government jobs when someone from the uni called I should come to Boston and you know, start to prepare myself there. It’s what I’ve always wanted!” He was beaming with so much excitement and happiness.

You didn't want to be the one who got in the way of his dreams, as much as you didn't want to go through it alone. You tried to grin as you drank past the lump in your throat. "That's fantastic news, literally. Sherl!" You cried, attempting to fake enthusiasm. You were still sick to your stomach on the inside. 

"I still can't believe it," he said, shaking his head in bewilderment before wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. His scent enveloped you in an instant as you buried your face in his coat, holding back the tears that begged to fall. "Thank you for never letting me give up," he muttered quietly, gently cradling the back of your head and running his fingers through your hair.

You were on the point of tears, feeling the salty sting as they gathered in the corner of your eyes, but you swallowed hard to keep them in. "This calls for some celebrations," you burst into tears leaning out of Sherlock and bringing your scarf closer to your face. "How about you go get us some tea from the corner café?"

Sherlock smiled brightly at you and rose to his feet, oblivious to your pain. "I like the way you ponder," he said while directing attention to his nose and then at you. "One green tea for my best friend, coming right up!" He responded, backing away and kissing you.

You finally allowed the tears fall down your cheeks as you watched his figure walk out of the park, sobbing breaking out of your chest. The last shred of hope you had clutched to, the possibility of having him at your side through it all, had slipped from your grasp and broken on the ground. You couldn't be the one to derail his hopes as well. 

"I guess it's just me and you," you said to yourself, cradling your stomach with your hands. Inside was a swarm of cells that were rapidly multiplying into something that was totally your responsibility.

The secret you could never tell Sherlock.

[mrsoftthoughts]

I like to think that every few weeks, Nico and Hazel have plans for spend time together, that can be go for a coffee, go to a museum ( these two are fanatics or any kind of history) try that restaurant that both saw the last time and catch their attention, hours in the mall just buying anything that they want and spending soo much time seeing each other outfits judging if is it looks good enough on the other ( both are really invested on their looks, you can't change my mind) Amusement Parks, that kind of things

....

And in the other hand, their plans can be can be the most unhinged things, and also can get even more concerning (because their lifes can't be normal) and somehow, now they are the winners of a statal competition of swing dance, they end up lost in south America abd were adopted by a tour group, perhaps they reanimated some old rest of other hominids species that they just discovered, are a meme in Iceland, sneaked at the London tower and other places just to see if some gems are actually cursed or is just legends , were kidnapped in Paris after a long day of found out who were the rest in the catacombs, also sneaked in other palaces or places of the owners of really valuable jewelry just to make chart's of all the pieces for fun, maybe also managed to assist to some auction of that kind of pieces ( and they end up taking that things att home ofc) and who knows what other things.

[snapthistiger]

exercise 03152024

bike ride to the gym

3 x 10 lat pull

3 x 5 dips

3 x 10 tricep press

3 x 10 row

30 minutes on the step mill

300 yard swim

bike ride home

the gym workers received Hershey kisses

brought my Mom to physical therapy this morning. she struggled getting up out of a chair at home and at physical therapy.

bottom = azaleas near the park

middle = my iphone 12 mini keeps displaying this message. going to the ATT store soon to get it checked out

received my certificate from Red Cross for completing the lifeguard and CPR/AED training

hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..

[siriusleee]

i'll be gentle

Rodolfo Para x f!reader For @glitterypirateduck's Fall4Rudy challenge. Prompt: I'll be gentle A/N: Two in a day? Who am I? Make sure you check out everyone's submissions for Fall4Rudy here. To see others in this series, you can find them at my masterlist here. If you like what I write, consider donating to my ko-fi.

The entire operation went to shit in record time. Your team had arrived at the tunnel already blown, as if the cartel had known what was coming. As your team sifted through the rubble you’d found the remnants of migrants: discarded passports and IDs, a baby rattle that had been taped up to keep quiet. Things that made your stomach roll when you wondered if they’d made it past the collapse safely, or if it had been blown with migrants below it purposely.

Your headache had grown blinding as you spoke quietly to the Troopers who seemed ready to go back home. An argument had ensued about who would excavate the rubble.

“Look I don’t give a shit about whatever you’re saying,” you had finally told some guy in a black cowboy hat, his name lost to you in the heat. “But this is an official CIA operation; we have the full support of the Mexican government and you’re telling me that Texas isn’t going to work with us? What kind of shit is that?”

He’d looked at you like he wanted to add to the tight line of stitches you already had climbing up your temple. But the argument was over, and the promise that a team would be there to excavate the site before night was made over a tense handshake.

The ride back with Rudy had been quiet, the two of you flanked by three others of Alejandro’s guys, the dust thick and sticky on your sweat covered skin. By the time the ATVs had been loaded back onto the trailer, and you and Rudy clambered into his blacked out SUV, you had to press the heels of your hands to your eyes to keep from throwing up.

“Are you alright, senorita?”

“Please stop calling me that, Rodolfo - we’re the same age.”

You don’t bother to buckle up as you curl yourself into the seat, positioning the air conditioning so that’s blowing directly on your face.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s just a headache. I’ll sleep it off after I update Laswell.”

Rudy doesn’t say anything else to you as he drives the two of you back to your hotel except to ask if you want to stop and get something to eat, an offer you turn down. You expect him to drop you at the front door, but he backs into a parking spot expertly, and before you can clamber out of the passenger side, he’s there pulling the door open and taking your elbow to help you out.

You don’t want to hold his hand the way you do, but you stumble over the cracks in the parking lot and he holds you tighter. 

“This is the type of place the CIA puts you up in?” He whispers in your ear as the two of you cross the threshold; you shiver and try to tell yourself it’s from the intensely cold air conditioning that hits you like a brick wall.

“The per diem isn’t exactly a huge perk of the job.”

You know better than to expect Rudy to drop you off at the door of your room. If he walked you this far, he’s going to make sure you get all the way in safely; he takes the room key from you gently when you struggle to put it into the key slot. He drops it on top of the press-board dresser that you’d been living out of for the past few weeks and guides you to the bathroom. Pushing you down onto the closed toilet, he elbows the bathroom sink on at the same time.

“I think you need to go back to the doctor, senorita.”

“Rodolfo -”

“I remember telling you to call me Rudy once.”

You remember it too. Three years ago when your wish to be sent back home to Texas had been granted. You had wanted a position at the Houston office, but when the papers rolled into you that you were going back home to South Texas, you hadn’t complained. Anything was better than being stuck in D.C. for another minute. 

A new task force had been created - a joint force between the United States and Mexico to attempt to keep the cartel from expanding into new projects. Your first day you’d been taken across the border and introduced to the Vaqueros. You remember how the name had drawn out a barking laugh from you - the men had looked just like the boys you grew up with who used to run around with cap guns and claimed to be cowboys; like some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy brought to life in front of you.

Rudy had been assigned to briefing you on what the Vaqueros knew, and he had told you sternly to call him Rudy, not Rodolfo. But you didn’t listen.

And it hadn’t mattered because you’d only been there for a year before you were called back to D.C. to work on a new project until Hasan had started encroaching into Mexico and you were sent back to live out of a hotel room until it would be decided if you were staying in South Texas long term or not.

Rudy takes one of the pristine white washcloths and runs it under the tap water before bringing it to your face. Instinctively you flinch away, but he holds your shoulder gently and then lets his hand slide up to the opposing temple, keeping you still.

“I’ll be gentle.”

You know he will, but that doesn’t stop you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood as he wipes the dirt away from your stitches, and then away from your eyes. When he draws back, the washcloth is a disgusting brown.

He crouches down so that he’s eye level with you, and when he speaks his breath washes over you, making it hard to breath.

“Do you think you’ll live?”

“I can try.”