#first time i thought i'd get it for just getting the ghost check for all missions

[barrymccaulkinem]

i finally got the Shadow achievement in Dishonored :3

I havent seen anyone define it this way (which made it frustrating to pursue) but i'm fairly certain you get it for having 0 bodies found, 0 alarms rung, and the ghost checkmark (for all missions except Coldridge)

[mellowwillowy]

"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

--

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

--

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

[emchante]

hi! if your requests are open, is it possible for you to write an oscar smut where we’re cockwarming him but he won’t move, so we’re just trying to grind on his dick feeling all frustrated and tired until eventually he ends up helping us out

discipline and desire

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: when you fail to complete a simple task oscar set you, he punishes you with cockwarming. it doesn't sound all that bad, until he's teasing you relentlessly, and refusing to move.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, cockwarming, teasing, punishments, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm control, slight darcyphilia.

w.c: 1.5k

a/n: my requests are indeed open, so thank you anon for this lovely request! i really enjoyed writing this, it's my first time actually writing cockwarming. please tell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask, i'd love to hear your feedback or thoughts on the writing.

you grinded against your boyfriend in frustration, holding the overheating laptop against you as a whine fell from your mouth. you felt his hands grip your hips tighter, stopping you from moving. 

“oscar, please,” you pleaded, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. you hoped he would feel sympathetic, feel bad for teasing you. but you were only met with a lazy smirk painted on his face. 

he tutted, gave your hip a small slap which made your body jerk; a small gasp escaping your lips. you instinctively clenched at the pain, and it was a mistake. it only made you more painfully aware that oscar was inside you, filling up your cunt with his erect cock, and not even moving. 

“no, you know what you had to do. and yet, you didn’t comply,” he told you sternly, making you exhale deeply from your nose. 

he was right, you were aware of what you had to do for oscar to fuck you. it was simple, really.

all you had to do was finish your essay, and he was all yours. and you tried! you really did. but you couldn’t stop thinking about oscar, and what you wanted— needed him to do to you. so, when oscar came to check on you and saw the file you were meant to be working on was empty, the deal was off. 

now, cockwarming was your punishment. a reminder of what you couldn't have until you earned it. 

at first, it didn’t sound too bad. you were confused— how was this a punishment? but it became oh-so obvious, when oscar stilled as soon as he was inside you, refusing to move an inch. 

“i only want what’s best for you, baby,” he cooed, almost condescendingly, as he cupped your face, holding you there as he moved closer. his nose bumped against yours, teasingly close. your heart started to race as you closed your eyes, tilting your head to the side for the kiss, but instead of his lips, you felt the warm ghost of his breath before he pulled back.

your eyes shot open, looking at him with pleading eyes, confused on what he was doing. 

“i’m not going back on my word, love,” he winked at you, the smirk reappearing on his face as he moved his face back further. “get the file done, and then you’ll get your reward.”

it was infuriating. oscar teasing you when you were desperately in need of him. his words alone drove you mad, but it was his dick inside you, his engorged tip grazing your cervix that was making you unravel.

with a frustrated huff you turned back around, feeling the tears stinging in your eyes, threatening to spill over out of desperation. 

fine, if he wanted you to get your work finished first, then so be it. you felt motivated, hungry for the reward. you could do this. you would do this. 

it didn’t last long, though.

you tried your best to focus, you really did. but it was just.. impossible. every subtle shift of oscar’s body made jolts of pleasure coerce throughout your sensitive body. even the slightest flex of his cock inside you caused distraction, as you couldn’t focus on the file in front of you. all you could focus on was how good you would be feeling if he’d just move. 

the empty file in front of you was becoming a blur, just like it was earlier when oscar initially set you the task. 

oscar didn’t exactly make it easy for you either. his hands were still resting on your hips, the rough pads of his fingertips drawing small shapes and patterns against the skin under your shirt. you were certain it was on purpose, as if he was trying to keep you on edge. 

when he shifted, you were sure it was innocent enough for the most part. but, there were a few times where he unnecessarily lift his hips as he scooted himself backwards, causing his tip to finally hit against your cervix. you bit your lip harshly— probably so much so it could’ve drawn blood— to hold back the moan that threatened to escape you. 

“the document’s still looking a little empty. having trouble concentrating, love?” oscar suddenly spoke up, the amusement evident in his voice. 

you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold back the tears, but they spilled out anyways. “i’m trying osc, i promise,” you shakily whimpered out, turning your head back to see him. 

it was sick of him, really, but oscar found great pleasure in seeing the tears fall from you. sure, he did feel a little bad, but the sight was just so pretty to see.

reaching his hand up to your face again, he used his thumb to wipe the tears from your eyes, running it down your cheek before allowing his hand to fall to his side again. 

“my pretty girl, i’m being a little mean, aren’t i?” he asked quietly, and he saw your hesitation to answer. scared incase it was a trap, another punishment lurking in the shadows. 

a small chuckle escaped oscar’s lips as you saw your eyes trying to read his face, so you knew how you should answer. “you’re allowed to agree. i am being a little mean,” he reassures you, teasingly self-aware.

you nod now, gulping slightly as you sniffle, pleading eyes boring into oscar’s, hoping he’d call the punishment off. 

oscar was nice, but he wasn’t that nice. 

“i’m not abondoning the punishment,” he started, causing a whine of sadness to escape your  pouty lips; earning another slap to your side in return. “let me finish— i’m not abandoning the punishment, but.. i’ll help you out a little bit,” he finished, making your eyes widen in shock. 

moving his right hand from your side, he dropped it to rest on your thigh. he gave the soft skin a squeeze, before his nimble fingers inches closer to your core. your whole body felt warm, your cheeks flushed and you felt dazed. almost like the overheating laptop that was hanging from your lap. 

resting his chin on your shoulder, oscar used the left hand still on your hip to grab you, adjusting his position as he pulled you closer against him. your back was flush against his chest now, and oscar was nibbling at your earlobe. 

“put the laptop down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and immediately the laptop was discarded with little care; your desperation was too strong. it wasn’t that much of an issue anyways, oscar would help with repairs if needed. 

oscar’s hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your clit with ease. he rubbed slow, small circles against it which caused you to throw your head back, lewd noises escaping your mouth. you had been desperate for pleasure for so long, and it felt almost overwhelming finally having it. 

as he gave your clit attention, he began to roll his hips every now and then, slow and deliberate thrusts ensuring you felt every single inch of him. the grip his left hand still had on your hips was painful, but it only made the experience more enjoyable. the thought of bruises being there tomorrow only turned you on more, lust completely overtaking your mind. 

“feel good?” oscar mumbled against your skin, his voice low. 

you could barely manage to think straight, never mind getting a coherent sentence out to oscar. you were lost in the waves of pleasure that were crashing throughout your body. oscar didn’t need a verbal answer though, the sounds escaping you as well as the grinding of your ass against him was enough to tell him he should keep going. 

oscar’s moves remained consistent and precise, his fingers continuing to give you the pleasure you had been praying for all night. he was switching between small, deliberate circles to fast drags of his rough fingertips, the changes helping to tip you over the edge. 

“come on, love,” he encouraged you on softly, a contrast to how he was at the start of this whole punishment tonight. “let go for me.”

and who were you to deny that request? with oscar’s expert touch and unwavering rhythm, you finished on oscar’s still-erect cock. you couldn’t stop the almost pornographic noises from leaving your mouth as you rode out your pleasure, gripping onto oscar’s strong legs to steady you. 

the release was intense, the immense teasing that lasted hours causing you to feel so much more sensitive than you usually did. when your orgasm subsided you completely let go of yourself and fell into oscar’s chest, the sheen of sweat on your back soaking his t-shirt. 

you were panting, trying to regain your breath back and kick it back into it’s regular rhythm when you felt oscar’s lips against your ear; causing your body to tense as the hairs on your body lifted. 

“this was a reminder that every action has consequences, sweetheart. nothing is over yet.”

[rivalsforlife]

takumi posted about the showcase on twitter today (relevant tweet 1, relevant tweet 2) and from the sounds of it he delivered the speech in english because he heard the capcom showcase had more overseas viewers than japanese viewers last time. so he asked janet hsu to translate a speech for him and record it, and then listened to it morning to night for two weeks so he could repeat it by memory at the showcase. he even made notes to try and get the cadence of it down.

(source tweet)

all for the experience of us turning on the capcom showcase and going "oh! I didn't know takumi could speak english!" and he can't he just memorized a script to pitch ghost trick in english because he thought it would be interesting to overseas viewers. this guy really operates on an entirely different brain level from most people and I have so much respect for him

EDIT: Have gotten a few tags now with people saying "I don't go here", so I thought I'd provide a little more information! You can view Shu Takumi's full speech and more elaboration on Ghost Trick in this video. It's a delightful little mystery puzzle game that is often considered one of his best works, and what he says in that video interests you I highly recommend checking out at least the demo and possibly the full game. You play as an amnesiac ghost with powers of the dead allowing him to turn back time and change fate. He seeks to save other people and uncover the truth behind his mysterious death, and his identity, before the morning comes and he's doomed to fade away.

As well, Shu Takumi's most well-known work is on the murder mystery visual novel series Ace Attorney, where you play as a rookie defense lawyer defending clients against a corrupt judicial system heavily stacked against you. You can find the first three games in the series (all written by Shu Takumi) in the Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy, which is available on all modern consoles and a total steal whenever it goes on sale. You can learn more about it through this trailer! I'm obsessed with those games and also super recommend checking it out if murder mysteries or visual novels are your thing.

[ericshoney]

Driskill Hotel ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You join your brothers in their trip with Sam and Colby

Warnings: swearing, ghost hunting, nicknames, protective!triplets, targeting, spirits, crying, slight angst, fluff

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

You were tagging along with Nick, Matt and Chris with their trip to Texas to collab with Sam and Colby at the Driskill hotel. You've watched Sam and Colby for years now so your brothers just had to bring you along.

When you arrived and got the introductions out of the way, the guys started to film. You looked around taking in the place.

"What's up guys, today we have some special guests, you've been requesting they join for a video for months!" Colby began.

"It's the Sturniolo triplets and their sister, Y/n!" Sam cheered.

The guys cheered and clapped as you giggled. Sam and Colby started asking different questions and how much you all believed.

"I'd say nine." You answered.

"I'm an eight." Matt said.

"Ten, even though nothing has happened to me for it to be a ten." Nick said.

"I'd say seven." Chris said.

The guys nodded as you all started to explore with the guides for a while, taking in the whole hotel and listening to their stories and experiences. It took a few hours and you laughed at the many jokes the guys made. Nick, Matt and Chris kept an eye on you at all times, making sure you were okay.

"Now it's investigation time!" Colby cheered once you went through the tour and the guides left you.

"First off, let's go talk to Samantha." Sam said.

You followed the guys to the old painting of the young girl. You looked at it seeing it was turning green and remembered the guide said it was the only one turning green out of the many paintings in the whole hotel.

"Now we're all going to offer a piece of candy to Samantha, but one of us is going to say Ruth." Colby instructed.

It was chosen that Matt would call on Ruth whilst the rest of you called on Samantha. You all placed the candy in front of the painting and then went to the stairs where Samantha died.

"You feeling okay, bub?" Chris asked you quietly.

"Yeah, just taking it all in." You answered.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Sam set up the flashlights on the stairs. You then saw something out of the corner of your eye, making you look back, which caught your brothers' attention.

"What?" They all called at the same time, shocking Sam and Colby.

"I...I swear I saw something go by." You answered.

"Can we just talk about how you all said that at the exact same time!" Colby exclaimed, making you all laugh.

"What did you see?" Matt asked.

"It was a shadow....but it didn't look tall." You replied.

"Samantha." Sam said.

Just then, one of the flashlights went off, making you all gasp. Chris who was still next to you, pulled you closer to his side. You watched as the guys asked various questions, getting a few answers. You then placed your hands in the pockets of your sweats and gasped.

"Oh my fucking God." You called out.

"What!" Nick shouted.

"I have a piece of candy in my pocket." You responded, holding some of the candy that Sam had in his backpack.

"You only took one piece and offered it to Samantha." Chris mentioned, making you nod.

"Yeah you saw me and it's on camera. How did this get here?" You asked.

"Let's go check and see how many pieces are left at the painting." Sam suggested.

You all nodded and headed back to the painting. You saw there was five pieces, where there should have been six.

"The piece I left is gone." You said.

"That's fucking crazy." Nick said.

You all took a short break, trying to gather some thoughts, before heading to the Maximillian room. The one Empress Carlota was supposed to be in. As soon as you walked in, you started getting a headache and felt dizzy. Nick, who was behind you, noticed you grab your head.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I just started feeling really dizzy and got a headache." You answered.

"First Samantha and now here, you think it's Carlota?" Matt asked.

"You seem to be drawing them in." Sam mentioned.

You took a deep breath and watched them set some equipment up. You then had a crazy idea after seeing them set the EMF rope up.

"What if I do the estes method in here?" You suggested.

"No!" Nick, Matt and Chris all shouted at the same time.

"You said you felt dizzy, we're not having our sixteen year old sister get attached to a spirit!" Nick added.

"We don't want to cause any family drama, but it could be a good idea. You guys can try it later in room 525, but Y/n might get something more since she's a girl." Colby replied.

After a bit of convincing, you sat on the floor in the middle of the EMF rope, blindfolded and with the headphones on. You sat for a few minutes with nothing.

"I don't know why I feel so nervous." Chris said, laughing to try and cover his fear.

"She's your sister, it seems more scary when it's someone you love." Sam responded.

Suddenly, you started saying some stuff. It was a few random words at first, the guys tried to piece together, but then you said something that scared them.

"Her."

"Her? As in Y/n?" Colby asked.

"Yes."

"What about her?" Nick asked.

"Want."

"You can't have our sister." Chris said.

"Are we talking with Carlota?" Sam questioned.

"Threat."

"Is Y/n a threat?" Matt asked.

You didn't say anything for a minute, giving the guys a chance to think and ask some more questions. But they then noticed you weren't responding and your breathing started picking up.

"Get her out!" Matt shouted.

Colby rushed over and tapped your shoulder gently, helping you remove the headphones. You threw the blindfold off and looked at the guys, your breathing still faster than normal and tears in your eyes.

"Hey, hey your okay. We're here." Nick said, hugging you tightly.

Sam placed the camera down, knowing you needed to stop for a bit. Matt rubbed your back as you clung to Nick, Chris standing besides him, all their faces showed worry. None of them said anything as you calmed down.

When you had calmed down, your breathing back to normal, you all went and sat in the lobby, feeling safer in that area.

"Can you remember anything you said?" Matt asked you.

"A few words like her and want, but it was like someone was squeezing my head tightly. It was static and my body started feeling light till Colby touched my shoulder." You answered.

"Did....Did you get it on camera?" You then asked.

"A bit, but we can cut it out." Sam answered.

"If that's okay." You replied, making him nod.

"Of course, whatever makes you feel more comfortable." Colby replied.

You gave them a small smile and knew that Nick, Matt and Chris would be watching you like a hawk for the rest of the investigation.

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

Taglist

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall

[lanadelnegan]

The Feeling Was Mutual

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected public sex, heavy touching and kissing, angst, sexual tension, *Jeffrey is single

Requested by anon <3

Your heart thumped in your ears when the RV doors opened and the gorgeous man you hadn't seen in 10 years stepped out. You tried to stay in character, purposely replacing your googly heart eyes with fearful ones. You studied his every move, noting the new silver streaks in his hair and beard. His voice was deeper than you remembered and his waist skinnier, but it was a nice look on him.

For the past decade, you've avoided him, focusing on your acting career and pushing your growing feelings for him aside. Things were different now. You were both more mature and further along in your careers. And single. From what you last heard. Not that you were checking up on him.

"Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe."

When the end of the barbed-wire bat came dangerously close to the tip of your nose, your eyes finally locked with his. His smug gaze softened and for a moment, you thought he was about to break character. A grin threatened to tug at the corner of your mouth, but you mentally pushed it aside, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. His smirk grew wider before he walked away from you, continuing his impressive opening speech.

"Cut. Amazing! Let's take a break." Your fellow actors stood to their feet, wiping the dirt off their knees and laughing amongst each other. You did the same, glancing at Jeffrey across the set before grabbing a drink of water. He was busy getting to know the others as they welcomed him to his first day on set.

Your back was turned away from him as you took a sip of your water. You hated yourself for being this shy in front of him, purposely stalling on greeting him with the rest of the cast. There was a time he was one of your closest friends but now you only saw him on social media, occasionally dropping a comment on one of his new posts and him returning the gesture.

"Not gonna go say hi to the new guy?" Norman teased.

"Eventually. You?"

"Met him earlier. Seems like a nice dude."

"Yeah, he's -"

"Walking over here." Norman said quietly, giving you a subtle heads up. Your eyes widened as he tilted his chin up at Jeffrey. "Man, that was awesome. Making us all look bad." Norman joked, earning a chuckle from the tall man next to you.

Jeffrey's hazel eyes quickly skimmed over you before settling on your own. "Hey stranger."

You rolled your eyes, playing off your ridiculous grin as he brought you in for a hug. You were always attracted to him, but this new him did something to you. He looked taller somehow. More confident.

"You know each other?" Norman asked.

Jeffrey rambled off to Norman about the movies you made together while you half listened, too busy soaking in his handsome features and the way the corner of his mouth tilted slightly when he spoke.

"And then, one day, she just.. ghosted me." He said jokingly, bringing his hand to his chest like it pained him.

You felt heat quickly rise to your cheeks. "I dunno if that's what happened." You said casually, hoping he'd drop it. Of course you weren't that lucky.

"You stopped returning my calls and texts. I'd say that's.. exactly what happened." Jeffrey tilted his head at you, resting his hands loosely on his hips.

"Well, you guys enjoy your reunion." Norman interrupted, patting Jeffrey's shoulder before walking away.

"What the hell was that?"

"Wasn't a lie." He shrugged, sipping his can of coca-cola.

"So that's how it's gonna be? You haven't seen me in a decade and you want to start it like this?"

He made a satisfied sigh, swallowing his drink. "This is awkward because of you, darlin'. Not me."

You scoffed. With his new found confidence, he was also apparently an asshole. You turned to walk away but he was on your heels.

"Y/n, wait."

You ignored the loud sigh he made.

"Y/n. Stop, can we just talk?"

You turned to face him, opening your mouth to say something, but quickly realized how close your face was to his. Your mind wandered back to one of the first scenes you shot with him - a kissing scene that involved lots of heavy touching. As if reading your mind, his eyes dropped to your lips then quickly back to your eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely. "Let's start over. You look.. really great."

"So do you. I.. I missed you." You stepped back a couple inches, allowing some space between you so others wouldn't stare.

"How about we get dinner tonight and catch up?"

You thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "Okay, yeah. That sounds nice."

Later that night...

You decided to keep it casual and eat at the restaurant at the hotel you were both staying at. This was just a friendly outing after all. You had to remind yourself of that a few times while getting ready, keeping your makeup light and your outfit nice but definitely not overdressed.

Your phone buzzed just as you were stepping off the elevator. Digging it out of your purse, you smiled at the name on the screen. You were surprised his number was still saved. And that he clearly still had yours.

JD: Got us a table outside in the back.

The nickname for him in your phone stuck after the filming of a show you did together. JD Richter. You smiled to yourself as you walked, remembering a particular scene you shot together that consisted of a king-sized bed and his body hovering over yours. His lips exploring your neck and collarbone. It was your favorite scene you ever shot with him, for obvious reasons. Partly because of the kissing, but mostly because of the way he whispered your name in your ear while on top of you. You real name, not your character name - so quietly that only the two of you could hear it. Shortly after that scene, your friendship grew apart and it was all your fault. He was right, you had ghosted him - stupidly. But tonight you'd make up for it.

You made your way through the restaurant, finding the door to the back patio. The sun was starting to disappear, but the patio was outlined in greenery and warm sting lights.

He stood when he saw you, pulling out a chair beside him. "You don't have to pull my chair out. This isn't a date." You half teased as you both settled into your seats.

"So there's no chance I'm getting lucky tonight? Shit. I wore my fancy underwear and everything."

Your laughs echoed across the patio, slowly fading when the waiter finally approached. After ordering a bottle of wine and a couple of appetizers to share, you took turns catching each other up on the past decade of your lives. He had been in two semi-serious relationships, one of which was fairly recent.

"The last one, I thought for awhile she might have been the one, but then it just didn't feel right."

"What happened?" You asked curiously, sipping your wine.

He hesitated for a moment. "When I got the call about the Negan gig... I broke up with her shortly after that."

"Choosing your career over your love life?" You chuckled like the idea was ridiculous.

"Sound familiar?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Ouch. He was right.

"I deserve that." You nodded, popping a pretzel bite in your mouth. "But.. why after you got the Negan call?"

"I - uh.." He hesitated again. "Knew I was about to see you again."

You blushed, feeling his knee brush against yours underneath the table.

"Look y/n, I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I need to know. Why'd you stop answering my calls?"

You knew that question was coming.

The truth is, you needed to focus on your career. You were barely a known actress at the time, and Jeffrey had already made a name for himself. When you started developing feelings for him, you knew you had to distance yourself. You wanted to be known for your work, not your love life.

"Fine. I.. I had feelings for you. That I didn't want to have." You admitted, ignoring his gaze and taking a bite of chocolate cake you were sharing for dessert.

"You should have told me." He said, casually wiping a dab of icing from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blushed when he brought it to his own mouth and sucked it off with a quick pop.

"I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"So you preferred never speaking to me again?"

Guilt punched you in the stomach and you felt like the worst person in the world. "No. I made a mistake. And when I realized it, I figured it was too late. You already had a girlfriend." You couldn't believe you were finally saying all of this out loud.

He nodded, deep in thought. "Okay."

"Okay? ...That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, y/n?” He asked, avoiding eye contact and signing the tab.

That you had feelings for me too. That the feeling was mutual. That I made a mistake and we should have been together.

“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” You said instead.

The walk back to your rooms was silent with the exception of him asking what floor you were on. You stared at him as he leaned back against the elevator wall, sliding his hands in his jean pockets. He stared back at you and you wondered what he was thinking, but stubbornly, you weren't going to be the one to speak first. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to lead the way, so you did until you came to a stop at your door.

"Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice." You finally spoke, annoyed that you lost at your little silent game.

He nodded. “Yeah. Any time.”

You opened your mouth again to speak but he was already walking away. “JD.” He stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Come inside. Stay with me. Let's do what we should have done a long time ago.

"...goodnight." You said instead.

"Night, y/n." He disappeared down the hall and you drifted into your room, disappointed and frustrated with yourself.

You kicked off your clothes, replacing them with your favorite silky night gown before falling into bed defeatedly. You closed your eyes, still feeling a buzz from the half bottle of wine you finished.

Imagining Jeffrey on top of you and whispering in your ear, your hand slipped between your legs. You easily rubbed your clit, considering your panties were on the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You were growing hotter by the second until your phone chimed from the nightstand. You sighed, picking it up and squinting at the bright screen.

JD: The feeling was mutual.

Your heart flipped at his confession and you jumped out of bed. You didn't bother slipping on shoes as you flung open your door. You took one step around the corner and immediately slammed into his tall figure.

"Oh.. hey.. I was just.." You rambled nervously, suddenly losing your courage.

"Me too." He said, slamming his mouth to yours and pressing you against the carpeted hallway wall.

He tasted like wine and chocolate cake, mixed with a hint of tobacco. The flavor alone enough to make your knees weak. He devoured your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours until you were breathless. Pulling away slightly, his mouth dipped to your neck, tracing his lips against your sensitive flesh. Your hand reached for his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist and guided it towards your soaked center.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking at you. "Fuck, we can't do this." He ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Oh.." You said, cheeks flushed. "Right.."

"Here. Someone could see us." He clarified. You exhaled a breath of relief as he guided you quickly to your room, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Oh no.." You panicked slightly, realizing your room key was on the other side of your door.

"Fuck. Come on." He led you to the elevator and luckily you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened and you stumbled inside the small space. His lips were on yours again as he clumsily pressed the button to his floor.

"I don't think I can wait another second to be inside of you." He said against your mouth, running his hand up your thigh and feeling your bare pussy. His finger slid through your wetness. "Fuck baby.."

"Then don't." You fumbled with the belt on his jeans. Pressing his forehead to yours, he helped you quickly unbuckle him.

You almost moaned at the sight of his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. He was rock hard and already leaking precum. Before you could admire it any longer, he lifted one of your legs around his hip and held it there, guiding his length to your slick hole. You were so wet and ready for him, you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle all over the elevator floor.

He rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating his cock in your juices before stopping at your entrance.

"If you want to take this slow, we can."

You shook your head no, eager for him to be buried deep in your cunt already.

"You sure? I could take you back to your room.." He whispered in your ear. "And eat this pretty pussy before I fuck it."

"JD.." You almost yelled. "Please just -"

He pushed forward suddenly, entering you hard with one full thrust and stretching your walls perfectly. Your mouth fell open as he pressed fully against you, his cock buried so deep in your cunt it was almost painful. He let out a hoarse groan before sloppily kissing you again.

"Fuck, doll. You feel fuckin' good."

His hips began moving slowly, allowing you to focus on every inch of him. The elevator door opened for a few moments but he didn't stop. Luckily no one was on the other side and it finally closed.

His movements quickened and the moans from both of you filled the small space. You didn't care that someone was probably watching from the other end of the camera in the corner. Or that you could be caught at any moment and end up trending on the internet. You were too focused on each other. At how amazing he felt inside of you, like his cock was made for you.

"Oh god, fuck. I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence before your pussy clenched around him and your legs shook beneath you. He watched you, his eyelids heavy as he felt his own release coming.

Suddenly the floor felt like it was falling from under you when the elevator started to descend.

"JD.." You said panicked, trying to push him away. But his grip tightened around your thigh and he continued thrusting, faster.

"JD..!"

Jeffrey stilled, letting out a couple of sharp grunts before spilling his load inside of you. "Fuck.. fuck." He pulled out of you quickly, stepping to the other side of the elevator and zipping himself up in his jeans. He held his wrists over his unclasped belt buckle as the doors began to open.

One would never be able to tell you just fucked.

Besides your flushed cheeks.

And his messy hair.

And the handprint on your thigh.

And the heavy breathing.

And-

The doors slowly departed, revealing Norman standing on the other side.

Oh fuck.

He squinted, eyeing you both suspiciously as he grinned, long enough for the doors to begin to close.

"I'll catch the next one." He said before they shut completely.

You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my god.. you think he knew?"

Jeffrey took a step towards you, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you towards him. "Probably. Especially if he noticed my cum running down your legs."

[zombvic]

They are talking in real life. I should’ve been more specific when I requested it

I’m sorry. I hope you have a good day 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'D BE YOURS IF YOU'D ASK. (kenan yildiz x reader)

summary : in which y/n ghosts the turkish footballer during their "situationship" whilst talking to another football player

face claim : no-one

notes : thank you for requesting !! lets pretend the copa america isnt going on at the same time as the euros lmao

pairings : kenan yildiz x reader , angsty fluff (?)

Y/n was familiar with the game of footballers. The heartbreak you'd get from talking with football players and then getting ignored out of nowhere, also known as ghosting. After multiple failed "talking stages" and "situationships" with various football players from all around the world, Y/n decided it was her turn to become the so-called ghoster. She enjoyed the sense of control and power it gave her.

As of June 2024, Y/n had been talking with a Turkish footballer named Kenan for about three months. After those three months, there was an undeniable change in the mood. She felt the conversations fade away, the replies becoming drier. After three months, you’d expect their relationship to progress, but instead, it felt like things were regressing.

A week had passed since she ghosted Kenan. She didn't choose the ideal time because the Euros were about to start. She thought maybe her absence would go unnoticed, or that Kenan would be too busy to care. But the truth was, she couldn’t handle the idea of being ghosted again. She took the first step to protect herself.

Kenan realized they hadn't talked in about a week while he was training for the Euros. The days were packed with intense practice sessions, team meetings, and strategy discussions. It wasn't until he had a quiet moment to himself that he noticed the absence of Y/n's messages. He checked his phone, scrolling through their last conversation, dated seven days ago.

He tried to brush off the feeling that she was ignoring him. Maybe she was just busy, maybe he was overthinking it. But as the days passed, he found himself missing her more than he expected. It wasn't just about the attention from her; it was the connection they shared, her way of always bringing his mood up, her way of cheering him up after a loss, the way she made him laugh, and how he could talk to her about anything going on in his life. He realized that he liked her much more than other friends do. He had a crush.

Even while training, Kenan's thoughts kept returning to Y/n. He made an effort to concentrate on the game, but it was difficult. What if she was truly over him? The thought of her abandoning him hit me like a blow to the stomach. Was she talking to another guy? Did she already have a boyfriend? Throughout the training, the worst-case scenarios couldn't stop forcing their way into his mind.

The day of the Georgia vs. Turkey game eventually arrived. Kenan decided to overlook the Y/n incident and concentrate on the match. However, he saw her in one of the VIP boxes as soon as he entered the field, he noticed her talking and giggling with a fellow football player, Kevin Alvarez. A wave of jealousy hit him. Why had she and Kevin come here? Is she trying to make me jealous? Is this some kind of game to her?

Kenan's attention split between the action on the field and Y/n in the crowd during the entire game. Kenan felt that Kevin was taking advantage of her companionship a bit too much. Knowing she was right there, laughing and giggling with someone else, made it difficult to focus.

Despite the distraction, Kenan played well and helped his team to win over Georgia. As the final whistle blew, he couldn't wait any longer. Eager to find out, he ran straight for the VIP box.

Kenan said "Y/n," as he walked up to her. Surprised to see him, she turned round, facing him. "Can we talk?"

Nodding, she followed him out of sight into a more peaceful area. "What's up, Kenan?"

He asked again, his irritation rising to the surface, "What's up? Why aren't you talking with me? And what's going on between Kevin and you?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Kevin? We're just friends. What is your problem?"

"My problem? What is MY problem?! You ghosted me, Y/n. One day we're talking, and the next, nothing. Then I see you here with him, giggling, flirting like everything's fine. Like i"

"Look, every time I get into a so-called 'talking stage,' it always ends with me feeling like I'm bothering the person in question and never in a successful relationship. All I was doing is giving you space."

"Space?" Kenan frowned deeper. "I didn't ask for space. I wanted to talk to you. Instead, you left me hanging, making me think I did something wrong."

Y/n moved reluctantly, her eyes glancing away for a while before returning to his. "I am sorry Kenan. It wasn't my goal to hurt your feelings."

Kenan's jaw tightened, showing his simmering displeasure beneath the surface. "But why didn't you talk it out with me? We could have solved the problem, together."

Kenan shook his head, a mix of exasperation and relief flooding him. "Y/n, I like you. A lot. Seeing you with Kevin… it drove me crazy."

Her gaze eased as she turned to face him. "Kenan, I'd be yours if you'd ask. However, you have to understand that I can't deal with the constant unpredictability of our relationship."

Kenan held her hand in his. "Okay. So, I want to be your official boyfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to take you out on dates, I want you to wear a jersey with MY name and MY number. I want a real relationship with you—not just a situationship or talking stage, an actual relationship."

As he was about to finish his sentence, Y/n hugged him. "Finally."

The tension slowly began to release as they stood there. They finally understood that they both wanted the same one thing: each other.

im hoping this is what you imagined while requesting, if not just lmk i can change anything <3

[southerngothicchic]

we're too young to be lonely (part one)

King!Steve Harrington x reader (18+)

This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote last year that I felt could be improved upon 💖

The King of Hawkins High had made a habit of climbing through your bedroom window every Friday night. His visits started out innocent enough, with you both commiserating about the past week of school and maybe sharing a kiss or two.

As weeks went on, and as both of your crushes grew, sweet kisses turned into steamy makeouts. He would murmur how pretty you were into your neck as he tried not to leave any hickies, though he desperately wanted to.

He wanted everyone to know you were his, but wasn't sure if you wanted to belong to him, outside of your bedroom.

It was a typical Friday night, with you laying in bed, waiting for Steve. The radio hums lowly while the dim light from your bedside lamp illuminates the room. You keep glancing up from the latest issue of Seventeen every few minutes to check the digital display of the clock on your nightstand. He's usually here by now, you think, as you're beginning to think he's not going to show.

If something changed he would've let you know, right? A horrible thought then enters your mind making you wonder if he's lost interest in you and found someone else to spend the night with. You glance at the window again before shaking your head.

After all the nights you spent together, you knew he wouldn't do that to you. At this point, you knew him better than his 'best friends' or anyone else at school did. He was different when he was with you, so sweet and attentive, you almost forgot about his famous persona.

As you wrack your brain for answers, you hear a familiar tapping on your window. You look over and see his silhouette crouching outside the glass.

With a relieved smile, you get up and cross the short distance to let him in.

He greets you with a smile and a soft, "Hi," before he climbs into your room. You feel his arms around your waist as you quietly close the window. You turn, in his arms, to face him, still with a smile on your lips.

"I was starting to think you stood me up," you say, now with a slight pout.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, nuzzling his nose against yours. "My parents came home early so I had to wait til they went to bed to sneak out."

"Oh," you breathe, as he ghosts his lips over yours.

"Did you really think I'd miss a chance to see my best girl?"

You sigh his name, already under his spell in record time.

"I missed you," he whispers before finally kissing you.

You eagerly kiss him back, wanting to make up for all the lost time spent not kissing the cutest boy you'd ever seen.

"I missed you, too," you reply, breathless with your fingers gripping the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

"I can tell," he softly laughs. "Maybe we should extend these visits to more than just one night."

You glance up at him, with a hopeful shimmer in your eyes, that makes him weak.

"You really like me that much?" You ask, earning another soft laugh from him.

"I wouldn't keep coming back if I didn't," he replies, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. "You're, like, the only real friend I have."

"Is that how you see me, just as a friend?"

His eyes widen in panic as he stumbles through his reply: "No, I mean, at first, yeah, but not now. I like you more than that."

His thumb tenderly brushes your cheek as a goofy smile forms on your lips.

"So you like me like me, then?"

"I thought it was obvious, but yeah, I do," he also smiles, as he leans in to kiss you again.

You sigh his name against his lips as he guides you towards your bed. He smoothly slips off his Nike's before laying you back onto your sheets, all without breaking the kiss. His denim clad thighs press against your bare legs, making you feel extra vulnerable. He subtly spreads your legs with his knee, so he can nestle his hips between them. You gasp into a kiss when he grinds teasingly.

"I guess I don't have to ask if you liked that..." he pants, between kisses. "You wanna feel more of me?"

You nod, while whimpering a soft, "Yes."

"Okay, honey," he smiles, gently taking your hand and placing it between your bodies, against his growing bulge.

"Want you to feel what you do to me..." he breathes, as he nips at the tender skin under your jaw.

You palm him through his jeans before squeezing slightly. He moans into your neck as his hips chase your touch.

Moments like these still feel so surreal to you. Having Steve Harrington in your room was one thing, but touching him like this was something else entirely. Feeling him through denim wasn't enough, you wanted more.

You pull him into another kiss while your hand moves to unbutton his jeans. You feel him shudder when your fingertips graze his skin. You tease him through his briefs at first, before slipping your hand under the waistband. He whines against your lips as he feels your fingers wrap around him.

"Mmm, fuck..." he breathes, while you slowly stroke him. "I've dreamt about this."

"Have you?" You ask, between kisses.

"Yeah, been wanting you to touch me like this," he whispers, desperately trying to keep his voice down. "Its all I can think about most days."

You smile into his kiss, feeling truly desirable for the first time in your life.

"You're all I think about most days," you quietly reveal before kissing him again, muffling another moan.

He pulls away, and sighs your name, already looking completely wrecked.

"If you keep on, I'm gonna-" he warns, before your hand stills. "And I don't want to yet, not like this."

"What are you...?"

"I wanna go all the way with you," he whispers, gazing into your eyes.

"Steve..." you breathe, his name the easiest thing for your mind to latch onto, as his admission has you reeling.

"Only if you want to," he adds. "I won't make you do anything you don't wanna do."

You notice how he's looking at you, with such sincerity and adoration, it's almost overwhelming.

"I want to," you softly reply, holding his gaze.

He smiles. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Just... not here, not with my parents down the hall..."

"You could always come over to my house," he offers, leaning in close. "My parents should be going out of town again soon and we'd have the place to ourselves."

"I actually have a better idea," you reply, with a smile. "I just remembered mine are going to a dinner party tomorrow night and will most likely be gone for most of the night."

"That is much better," he agrees, his lips brushing yours. "We can have our first, proper date then."

He feels you smile against his lips before you whisper, "Yeah, we can."

He pulls away, for a moment, so he can admire the sight below him.

"I really like this," he compliments, lightly dragging his finger along the collar of your silky pajama top.

"I was hoping you would," you quietly reply, as you watch his eyes darkening.

"Is it okay if I...?" He then asks, his fingers already gripping the top button.

Your eyes meet his as you nod. "I want you to feel more of me, too."

He leans forward again, pressing his lips to yours, as his skilled fingers unbutton your top. The lightest scratch of his nails against your stomach makes you shiver. He pulls away slightly to marvel at you again, and suddenly you feel too exposed. The look on his face instantly reassures you, as it's one of awe.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he laments, leaning in close.

He nuzzles his nose along your jaw, before trailing kisses down your neck. You pull your hand from his jeans and curl it into his hair as he kisses his way to your collarbone. Soft moans of his name fall from your lips as he places wet kisses against your breast. His mouth has your back arching into him, as his teeth barely scrape your nipple. He flicks his tongue over it and you have to keep yourself from screaming.

He's presses himself against you, unable to keep from grinding, as you feel how hard and big he is.

"Fuck, I can't wait til tomorrow night..." he pants, words almost muffled by your skin. "...When I can kiss you like this while I'm buried deep inside you."

You whimper his name and he thinks it's his new favorite sound.

"You still want that too, right?" He asks, glancing up at you, his amber eyes alight with desire.

You nod, as your pretty, pink lips part with a gasp. He tries to hide his smirk before raising his head so he can kiss you again.

The way he kisses you is so deep and romantic, its unlike anything you've ever felt before. Your thoughts melt into a dreamy haze, as the only constants are how you feel about him and how he's making you feel. It's a moment seemingly frozen in time that you never want to leave.

"Can I feel more of you?" He breathily asks, with his hand hovering over the waistband of your matching silky shorts.

You hesitate, trying to catch your breath as you gaze up at him. Your hand grips his sleeve as you struggle to answer him.

"It's okay if it's too much. We don't have to -" He comforts before you interrupt him.

"I want you to touch me. I've dreamed about this, too," you admit, as a familiar heat rises to your cheeks.

"I want you to tell me about all the filthy dreams you've had about me," he smiles, as his fingertips lightly glide across your stomach.

"I might, someday," you smile, in return, pulling him into another kiss.

You feel him smiling against your lips before deepening the kiss.

He slips his hand into your shorts, and presses the pads of his fingers against the thin cotton of your panties. He softly moans when he feels how wet you are.

"You must really like me," he whispers, as he teases you with his finger.

"I do," you breathe.

"Want me to make you feel good?" He asks, pressing harder.

"Y-Yes, Steve, please..." You almost don't recognize your own voice as you've never heard it sound so desperate.

"Fuck, I'll do anything for you, honey," he replies, his own voice ragged as he slips his hand into your panties.

He slowly eases his finger inside you while his mouth hovers over yours. He whimpers over how tight you are as he begins to pump it in and out. Your eyes are already rolling back at how different and good he feels compared to you.

"Look at me, honey," he quietly commands, nudging the tip of your nose with his. "Want you to keep your eyes on me when we're like this."

You nod, obediently, as your hands claw at his sweatshirt again. His kisses are a little rougher as he adds another finger. He's already losing himself in you, in wanting to make you feel so good, you'll never want anyone else.

You body trembles underneath him, as you fight to kiss him back with the same intensity. You whine his name repeatedly against his lips and he can't help the smug look on his face as he says, "I know it's good now, but imagine how much better it'll feel when I'm actually fucking you."

You finally break eye contact as your orgasm washes over you. His lips are instantly on yours, quieting your continued cries of his name. Your fingers now curl around his wrist as his movements slow. He pulls away just enough, and once your eyes meet his, you smile so warmly at him. He leans in again and covers your face in kisses.

"You really are my best girl," he laments, gazing at you with total adoration.

It mirrors how he was looking at you earlier, but there's something new in his eyes. It's a hint of something more, something deeper that he can't find the words for yet.

He stays with you for the next few hours, as you just lay holding each other, before drifting off to sleep. You wake him up sometime before sunrise and tell him he should get home. He whines, tightening his arms around you before getting up.

You stand next to your window, with his arms around you again as he gives you a lingering goodbye kiss.

After watching his taillights fade into the early morning air, you climb back into bed with a smile. You close your eyes, your thoughts consumed with being his girl, before sleep overtakes you again.

[impish-baby]

hello hello!! it is i, 📼 anon!! in your ghost caregiver writing, i saw you mentioned a possible haunted doll at the bottom of it, and it got my brain turning on how a haunted doll could be a caregiver and not a playmate, but then it clicked!! what if the doll isn't haunted by a child, but you think it's haunted by a child (at first). The doll is actually haunted by an adult who was in someway a guardian of a child, whether they have been a mom, a dad, a significantly older sibling that took in the younger one after something happened to their parents, etc etc. The doll was owned by their child/sibling/charge, and so their strong familial bond caused doll!caregiver to possess their charges favorite soft toy after their passing; so they could always be with them! But sadly, their charge grew older and packed the doll away. doll!caregiver couldn't reach them at that point, until years later when they were taken out of storage; they thought that they could see their charge again, but they just got donated to a thrift store with other knickknacks that their charge deem unnecessary to keep around :( And that's how dol!caregiver got into your hands! you popped by a small thriftstore while walking the town, and browsed around, eventually getting to an endcap near the back of store labeled "UNIQUE AND VINTAGE ITEMS", and there sat doll!caregiver! They'd most likely be a rubberfaced but softbodied doll, maybe a rainbow brite or a strawberry shortcake; something heavily associated with young girls from a while ago, but not too long ago, because that's why you picked the doll up in the first place! It reminded you of your childhood in some way, or maybe you were interested in older toys in general. Regardless, you brought them home, and almost immediately paranormal activity began happening. It was small things, like if you lost your keys, you'd turn around and find them on a very obvious spot you were sure you'd checked multiple times, or going to sleep with your TV on and waking up with it turned off. Little stuff like that, which made you look towards the little doll you'd brought home right before the activity began. You were a bit weary at first, but ran your memory back and deemed them harmless. You assumed it was haunted by a child, so you started to try and include it in things. You'd carry them around the house, you'd bundle them up in their own blanket at night, you even got them some little toys from the same thriftstore for them to play with! But that was all in vain, because the doll is haunted by an adult, an adult who's decided that you're their new charge. Whether or not they'd view you as a little sibling, a child, or something entirely different is up in the air, But they do care very much about you! They find it adorable that you try to take care of them- silly thing! they're the one who's supposed to take care of you! You're unaware of the spirit in the doll being an adult, and they're unaware that you think they're a child's spirit. They'll eventually do bigger stuff, like leave out milk and cookies when you get back from going out, or if you fall asleep in a chair or on the couch, you'll wake up to being tucked into your bed. doll!caregiver wouldn't want you getting a crick in your neck! + i didn't touch much on the yandere aspects of this idea, but i fear i may have yapped too much :( your writing is just very inspiring and I can't help but make an entire novel about the ideas u spur on,,, have a good day/night/whatever!! -📼 anon

Ahhh, this is so so good!!! I keep rereading it over and over, you did such a fantastic job with the concept!!

I'd forgotten, people are kind - Haunted doll caregiver x reader - 🧸

You take the utmost care with your vintage toys, carefully giving them baths and trying to give them the love they must have had from whoever owned them originally. It's a labor of love, repairing any tears and touching up paint to the best of your ability, but it's worth it. The newest addition to your collection definitely needed some repairs, face cracked and faded with a body that definitely expirenced some rough play throughout the years.

Once you're finished, you're proud to say it looks almost good as new! Delicately dressed back up, the doll is now ready to be tucked into bed beside you with a few of your other plushies.

Although, when you wake up the next day every single one has fallen to the floor, the doll being the only one left on the bed. You have to apologize to them for the tubble they took, setting the plushies back onto the bed in a way that you hope makes sure there's no more accidents.

However, it becomes a nightly occurrence. That's not the only strange thing happening either. Lights flicker on and off, doors slam, disembodied footsteps follow you, everything points you to the conclusion that your doll is very much haunted. The fact both saddens and makes you relieved in a way. It must be a child's spirit, but at least they won't be collecting dust in a stuffy old thrift store anymore..

They end up with a dedicated corner in your room, filled with toys you'd think they'd like, careful not to include any stuffies or other dolls. It's actually fun setting them up with a little tea party. They seem happier too! Notes crudley scribbled in crayon start appearing, touching even if they were unsettling at first.

The ghost is strangely fixated on how well you take care of yourself, almost scolding you for not eating three meals a day. The next morning, you wake up to your favorite cereal already poured with cartoons playing on the TV.

Mathew thinks you're just the cutest. You're so much like his little sister it's uncanny, but you won't abandon him like she did. He's sure of it. He had resigned himself to rotting away before you found him. You're his savoir, and Mathew will do all he can to give all your care back tenfold.

It's a little funny watching you talk to him like a child, but he supposes that's what it must seem like to you.

You've stopped paying so much attention to your other toys at least, thank goodness. Mathew feels a bit silly for being so upset with the fact that you supplied your love to them the same way, but he deserves it more. It hurts when you aren't looking at him, it makes him scared.

You're trying to color with him now, rambling on from one thing to another. He can't help but mess with you a little, only adding to his page when you aren't looking. But by the end of the night, there are two coloring pages proudly hung up at the fridge.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Ghosts

Written for @steddieangstyaugust, inspired by Dead Boy Detectives if you couldn't tell.

Steve should have seen it coming, really. Despite dating, driving the gang around, and being silly with Robin, he'd known for a long time he wouldn't live long enough to amount to anything. Everyone had plans, had a future. But Steve? He'd be lucky if he could give his imminent death a meaning.

Turns out, he couldn't. Or at least, not in the way he wanted.

It didn't matter if it was the guilt he'd been feeling ever since Eddie died and Max ended up brain dead, poor judgment, or simply wanting for the wait to already be over. Whatever the reason, he pulled "an Eddie" in August 1986. He didn't even ask, he just ran out as a distraction while the rest of his friends were trying to evacuate Max from the overran hospital. He got a few swings in, they got a few chomps. Then more than a few. In the end, he way lying on the ground, bleeding out, but his efforts didn't seem to matter. As soon as he took his last breath, the monsters just turned around and went back to Max's room. Steve didn't even have enough time to pray he'd bought them enough time.

"Oh shit. Stupid. So stupid."

Steve froze, or at least got startled. Which was something, you know, for a dead guy. If this was the voice of an angel welcoming him to the afterlife, it sure sounded like-

"Did I look this dumb when I died? I hope not. Why the fuck would you do that, Harrington, huh? Thought they no longer needed you? Can you imagine what it's going to do to Dustin when he finds out?"

Munson.

Steve opened his eyes and sat up. Nothing hurt. Weird.

What was even weirder? He came face to face with Edward Munson, recently deceased.

Eddie shrieked and fell back on his ass. He'd probably been crouching over Steve, but now he was splayed on the hospital floor, gaping at Steve as if he'd seen a-

Oh. Okay.

Steve turned around and grimaced. He was sitting in his own mangled corpse, which he wasn't too thrilled about. He sprung to his feet and, after giving his bloodied face one last look - they didn't get the hair, phew! - turned to Munson. "Fancy meeting you here. Are you, like, my afterlife welcoming comittee?"

Eddie made a vain effort to close his mouth. "Uh, no. Not really. I mean, there probably is someone coming to get you, but if you don't mind, I won't stick around for that. I don't think Death likes me very much, after I bolted on her."

Steve blinked in confusion. "Death…is a woman?"

"Oh yep. Very nice. Didn't even chase me when I freaked out and ran. Um. But you might want to wait for her. I will stick around for a bit longer." Even in death, Eddie hadn't changed. He pulled a strand of his hair in front of his face, and Steve wondered if he could chew on it, now that he was a ghost.

"But why? What is there to do?" Steve paused, thinking. "Wait. Is there something we can actually do? To help?"

That made Eddie laugh, although it was weak and incredulous. "Uh. Harrington. You've just died in like, a pretty painful and sadly heroic way, and your first thought is that you haven't done enough?"

"Doesn't feel like I have. Look," he said, offering Eddie a hand to pull him up, "if Death is coming, I'd rather not be here. Can we go and check on the others?" He wiggled his fingers at Eddie when he didn't respond.

The wiggle must have jolted Eddie's brain awake because he took Steve's hand. It was weird - he could feel the pressure where Eddie's hand met his, but there was no warmth, no texture. Possibly no pain, he thought. Useful.

"Right," Eddie cleared his throat. "Let's go. Just a bit of a warning - I think Will can see us. At least he looked very suspicious when I tried to sneak into your house when you all were staying there, and when I told him to just pretend he didn't notice anything, he nodded. So, uh. I guess he's special or something?"

They would learn quite a few things in their new existence. First of all, Will wasn't special. He just fit the criteria of "nearly died in the Upside Down or the newly merged realities", not just by being in danger, but being so close to death he almost didn't make it. Turns out, Hopper could see them too after his near death experience under the mall, and Hopper couldn't just be shushed.

Half-corporeal hugs were exchanged. Tears were shed, especially by Dustin and Robin. But they were all still together, for now. The danger was near and their grief had to wait.

By not quite so safe experimentation, Steve and Eddie found out that only two things could hurt them - other ghosts and iron. Luckily enough, none of the Upside Down creatures qualified as either. And so the party gained an invisible and indestructible vanguard - Eddie and Steve, both wielding their weapons of choice (Steve was overjoyed that he could just pick up his nail bat, and maybe that was a bit of a giveaway, seeing the bat floating towards the party with no body to hold it). They scouted ahead and reported back, either to Will and Hopper, or just by angrily scribbling in a notebook provided by Nancy. They couldn't sleep, so they would watch over the party in the night, allowing them the so much needed rest.

The months dragged on. Eleven kept her promise and saved Max, and when the pale redhead saw Eddie and Steve even with her damaged eyesight, no one was surprised. And as Upside Down crept further into their world, there were more injuries, more near death experiences, more tearful reunions. After being bitten by a demodog and almost bleeding out, Robin flung herself at Steve the second she could move and babbled about him being the absolute biggest idiot there ever was. He didn't dispute it, but hugged her tighter.

They were making progress. Still not enough to fix things, but they were getting there. And Steve's brain started another countdown to his and Eddie's potential second demise.

"Do you think we'll still be around, when the portal is closed?" he asked Eddie during one of their night vigils. "What if it's just the Upside Down that's keeping us here?"

Eddie, scribbling in a notebook, shrugged. "I don't know, and for the first time in my life - well, death - I don't have enough information to panic about that." He chewed on the pencil, meeting Steve's eyes with caution. "Might be nice though," he said slowly, "to stay. Do some more good, make sure everyone's safe. If you're in."

Steve laughed. "Wait. Are you, Eddie Munson, the mortal enemy of jocks, asking me to join you? Even when we're not neck deep in shit?"

"Mortal enemy…I mean, I lost the mortal part, and it felt so mundane to just keep the enemy. So yes, one position if Eddie Munson's afterlife has just opened up. Will Steven Harrington join me in it?"

Steve thought about it, and maybe he should have thought longer. Maybe he should have considered that eternity is a pretty long time, but his infrequent visits to the church taught him that heaven would mean being with his loved ones. He'd still be around if the party needed him. He'd see Robin off to college. And then, when everyone left…it would be just him and Eddie.

Him and Eddie. What a thought.

He winked at Eddie who, for a ghost, looked like he was sweating bullets. "Take me to the movies first, Munson, and I'm all yours." And then, even if he know neither of them would feel it, he covered Eddie's hand with his. He might have been imagining the gentle spark of warmth, but he decided it was real. He knew it was real.

Eddie smiled at him and interlaced his fingers with Steve's. "I can work with that, big boy."

And for the first time in so many years, the countdown in Steve's head stopped.

[bigassmoonchild]

Hoops

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: None of your squad was ready to be a part of a mission. You knew they weren't, they were just kids who were getting ready for a life of misery. So you went instead. Missions never go right with the 141, and as much as Simon didn't want you to join you had to. It seemed you couldn't stray from an argument with him for too long.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Missions Gone Wrong, Mentions of dead bodies, Medical Inaccuracies, Arguments, Simon Realizing His Feelings For You, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 9 of Maple Syrup! I would've thought you guys would prefer the smut, but it almost seems like you like the angst more?? Here y'all go, enjoy! As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

"Is anybody on your training squad ready to be placed in a mission yet?" You sighed deeply, running your hands down your face. Shaking your head, you looked up at the man leading the operation. You didn't know his name, and quite honestly you didn't want to.

He looked away, thinking. "My last squad? Maybe there would've been one person strong enough for it, but this one? They didn't even know how to go about placing a tourniquet, let alone stitching someone up on the battlefield," you told him. You didn't want to be sitting here, busy with trying to make sure you didn't send any of your squad out too soon to be ready for the actual fight.

All you wanted was to be curled up in your nest, trying to figure out where the hell Simon had run off to this time. For the last two weeks Simon had seemingly disappeared, not even having lunch or dinner with you.

"Do you think that you're capable of going on this mission?"

"I'm not allowed on missions anymore, I thought?" You were appalled. Stunned. You hadn't ever thought of returning to the field, not since you'd become mated. "Aren't there a bunch of hoops to jump through if you wanted to have me return to the field?"

He shrugged. "I have enough of a reputation that I'd be more than capable of getting this through the hoops," he told you.

The next morning, as you were just about to take a sip of the coffee you had oh so carefully made, the door slammed open and made you jump, spilling it just between your legs. You stared at the coffee splattered on the floor before looking up.

Simon. You went to talk, opening your mouth to say something when he interrupted. "You're not going on that mission," your brows furrowed. Of all things he could've fucking said to you, for the first time in weeks, that's what he chose?

"I don't recall you having a say, considering you come and go in my life," you snapped at him. He looked almost taken aback at your words. "When you finally make a decision about whether you want to be in my life or not, then you'll get a say in these things," you told him.

He looked away, closing his eyes tightly before opening them and staring at you. "Last time I checked I was your Alpha,"

"Last time I checked an Alpha didn't abandon his Omega because he wasn't good at talking," you snapped, standing up. "Now, if you'd ever so kindly leave, I have work to do. If you come back, I'm expecting an apology, explanation or both," you pointed at the door.

Mouth agape, he stared at you, blinking rapidly. You pointed at the door again and he turned, not looking back as he walked out and shut the door softly.

You sat down, hands holding your head as you gave little gasps, trying to breathe through the panic you felt. Tears were dripping through from your eyes, throat burning.

Jesus fucking Christ, Simon Riley was going to be the death of you.

Being back in a plane was a little unsettling, even if you had gone through a quick two-week training session, to get you back up to speed, they said. They taught you basic combat skills, got you comfortable with simple weaponry. Made you a soldier, at least once again.

The bumping of bodies together because of how close everyone was. You could feel the weight of the gun you were holding and the packs you were holding, filled with medical supplies.

People were speaking loudly, some through their radios and some just between each other. You could see Soap and Price sitting just across from you, Price leaned in to listen to what Soap had been saying. Ghost and Gaz were on the other flight, with another squad who had another medic.

The flight shook, tremoring with the turbulence, shaking like you almost felt like you were. Your hands were grasping at the straps holding you in place, and you saw Price press into his radio to be heard on the team channel.

"Alpha Team, drop in 5, be ready," he spoke and you nodded at them, listening to a few others give their affirmatives. The plane shook, you could hear from inside the shots it was taking. Hopefully, it would remain intact enough to get you to the landing point and be okay to extract you if need be.

Alarms began blaring, people stood and moved, seeming to try and run away. You stood yourself, glancing over at Price and Soap to try and figure it out.

"We're jump-" Black. Everything was black and as you came to it felt like your body was on fire. Everything hurt and you could feel that sticky wetness covering parts of you. You moved your fingers and toes, trying to make sure nothing was wrong.

As you sat up, you looked around, feeling for your in-ear mic. It was there and you smacked at it a few times before it turned back on, albeit slightly staticky.

"-nyone there? I repeat, is anyone there?" Gaz?

"I'm here, we went down," you spoke, struggling to your feet as you looked around. "I'm going around to find any survivors or see if people are dead, send for extraction. I'll let you know the injured count," you tossed some rubble off of a person, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing. The next person was cut through the abdomen, their eyes glossy as they stared into the smoking sky. From what you could see on his uniform, he was just a boy.

The next person was blinking up at you, their leg sliced all the way through, nothing but flesh and blood splattering it. You slid on a tourniquet, giving the soldier a small smile and some reassurances.

You hadn't been out for too long, you'd realized. If that soldier was still alive, even with a lost limb, it had been seconds or minutes at most. You reached for you mic before hearing a voice.

"Sit still, I'm coming to give you backup," Ghost. You shook your head, crawling through more debris as you found Soap.

"You're going to want to bring as many people that know how to treat severe wounds," you told him. For what seemed like seconds, you worked to stitch up the major wounds on Soap, closing up an artery.

When you found Price, you became horrified. There was rubble covering him, his body limp, blood surrounding him. You moved to pull the rubble off of him, unable to do it because of the weight. Instead, you jumped to stitch up the wounds you could see, listening to the calls of Ghost and the others.

"Over here!" You shouted at them, waving your flashlight. When they were finally able to get there, you started ordering people around. "I need at least two people helping me search and fixing people up. Price is here, someone needs to get the rubble off of him," you watched as Ghost and Gaz pulled the rubble off, moving it away and you jumped in to tourniquet the wound.

With each stitch, you could feel yourself falling more and more into fear. His artery was almost severed, and you needed to spend more time on him. You looked up and found Ghost hovering over you.

"How far out is extraction?"

"Few minutes, maybe 10 max,"

"They need to get here faster, or there are going to be a lot of deaths," you told him, watching as he reached for an actual radio, talking into it and nodding. He'd ended up getting them to arrive not five minutes later, their speeds picking up with the knowledge that there were survivors.

As you boarded the flight with the worst of the wounded, which ended up being a young girl not too much younger than yourself, you watched Ghost fight his way on. He stood in the corner as you ordered the people around and trying to fix her up.

He watched, intently, as you moved in your natural habitat. He could see the blood pooling down the back of your head, as much as you tried to ignore it.

When you moved too quick around a corner, you had to catch yourself to keep from passing out. Lightheaded, you stood trying to bring your vision back from tunneling. There was nothing short of panic in your body as you turned to say something, vision fully blacking out before you felt yourself falling.

Your head was throbbing when you came back to, the bright lights burning your eyes as you opened them. You could smell fear and stress all nearly fully coating the tobacco, leather and little hints of smoke from the last mission. You lifted your head as much as you could, glancing over to where the scent was strongest.

"Are you finally back to deciding I'm worth being in your life?" You whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming. You could hear Simon sigh heavily, a groan coming from his throat.

"Can we please do this another time? You nearly died," he whispered the last part, moving closer to you. You shook your head vigorously, trying to bite your tongue to keep from snapping at him.

You looked at him. "I've told you already. I can't do this up and down with you, this back and forth. It's ruining me," you whispered, feeling your eyes watering. He shook his head, cupping his face in his hands. "Either you figure out how to talk to me, or we get rid of this," you watched as he rubbed his eyes, you could smell the distress and sadness overtaking his scent.

He looked up. "I don't know how to do anything but retreat," he whispered to you. Shaking your head, you looked up at the ceiling. Glancing at him shortly, you had to close your eyes.

"Then you need to leave until you can figure out what it is you want," you told him, hearing him stand and the door opening and shut. With him went his scent, the only thing you could smell was the distress and hurt.

You could feel the tears pouring down your cheeks, your knees bending in an attempt to curl in on yourself. It had felt like hours until your tears dried, your chest hurting and the little gasps you gave out slowly became hiccups. It slowly turned to little breaths, your eyes blinking slowly as you stared to the side.

It took about a week until you were released, the concussion having healed through the week, large bruises and scrapes were slowly healing, a few stitches scattered on your body. You found yourself in your room, the area feeling too clean for your opinion.

The nest had lost its scent, leaving you to re-make it with materials that were better scented.

You took out the one last hoodie of Simons.

The not knowing was what hurt the most. Not knowing if Simon was going to keep you as his mate, not knowing if he was going to try and help himself and help you.

With a deep breath, you started a bath. Your thoughts would be the end of you, and you needed to take some time to just not think. Maybe have an orgasm or two, by your own hands this time.

Simon left. He just completely left the compound when you had made your comments to him, still lying on that bed and slightly bloody. Hair a mess, mud (or blood) splattering it. He put in his leave request the minute he left your hospital room and then booking a flight home.

Home. What a strange concept. Was home just a building, the place you laid your head down to rest at night? Was is the place that you went to when you had nowhere else to go?

Was it a person?

Simon didn't know. He didn't want to know, to be completely honest, and all he could do was run. Just like he always did. Either way, Simon needed a minute to think about everything that happened. Everything he did, everything you did and the things that were caught in his mind.

He hadn't even told Price he left, not yet at least. Not to his face. Sure, he left the note, but Price had been off doing things when he went there.

There was nothing that was good when he got into his apartment. The area smelled stalely of him, and he felt this weird sense of longing lodge into his chest. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, he had never felt something like that, at least not for a long time.

Little whines escaped from his chest, and all he could think about was the scent that was missing. The voice that was missing, the person who was missing.

You. You were missing, his little Omega who was oh so good when he had you. Who was oh so patient with him, the little Omega who gave him love. He didn't want anything short of you, even a little pup or two. Make yourself a pack, create a life with you.

And the only thing Simon could think about was getting back to you. It eventually turned into trying to think about how he would explain everything to you, how he would tell you everything. Give you an explanation, no matter the hoops he would have to jump through.

You deserved it.

Next

Taglist:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar

(I definitely forgot to add the taglist for my initial post, but I added it only minutes after posting)

[fanfic-corner]

Spideypool Fic Recs

I've recently been reading a lot of Wade/Peter fics, so I thought I'd share some of my favourites with you! Please remember to check the tags before reading <3

Lobster Biscuit by Scarlet_Ribbons (2.6k)

Peter goes on a terrible, terrible date, cashes in a favor on behalf of Spider-Man, and begs Deadpool to crash it.

Deadpool delivers.

Not One Hundred Percent by HashtagLEH  (7.3k)

After being drugged at a party, Peter is lucid enough to figure out that he needs help. But who does he even know (and trust) enough that he can just pop up on their doorstep at two in the morning?

Meanwhile, Wade would just really like to know who this random college kid is that showed up at his door.

let me explain by jilliancares (8.5k)

Wade scoffs, shaking his head and elbowing Peter in the side. “Sure,” he says, sarcastic. “That’s why your spidey-sense doesn’t see me.”

Peter’s on the verge of laughing, wanting to join Wade in his amusement, but he freezes. His entire body goes still. He finds himself staring at a roof three buildings over, not even looking at anything. Two blocks away, a car alarm finally shuts off.

“I never told you that,” Peter says, the realization startling him.

Or: Peter's starting to realize just how much Wade knows about him.

Bear the Pain (as the Gods Intended) by mustehelmi (9.8k)

Five times Wade is injured and one time Peter is the injured one.

Gravitation by WillowSong (9.9k)

In a universe where Spiderman never exists, young Peter Parker makes an unlikely friend in Deadpool.

A Friendly Neighbourhood Kidnapping by Willow Writes (12k)

Peter is more than a little mad when Wade ghosts him for years, and then when he finally shows his face in New York again, it’s to kidnap Peter Parker. So he decides to have some fun with the situation and see how long it takes for Wade to recognise him.

Wade thinks he has an easy hit ahead of him and is planning on getting back in touch with his favourite Web–Slinger once the job is done. But Peter Parker seems harder to take down than his buyer let on.

what light through yonder window by hellornothing (14k)

The figure moves quickly, but Peter’s faster. He’s still adjusting to the sudden brightness, so dark red is really the only thing he takes from this initial encounter, but it’s enough.

‘Deadpool?’

aka the one where they get together via late night window visits

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) by Spongeekat (28k)

"Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.” Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?

Oh.

“Oh.” Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds. "

Or Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.

Finite State by Scarlet_Ribbons (34k)

When he's blackmailed by, of all people, a weird work acquaintance who needs Spider-Man gone for obviously illegal purposes, Peter is forced to hang up the suit- at least temporarily -until he can resolve the situation. Unfortunately, things start to get sticky when Deadpool, who Spider-Man's been on-again off-again with (okay, yeah, lowkey messing around with), crashes into Peter's life and demands the photographer help him figure out what's got his favorite webhead so spooked.

Peter's life is really weird.

I Think I Missed a Step ('Cause I'm Fallin' For You) by mokuyoubi (42k)

There’s a weird familiarity about the kid's tone and posture, and it’s true that Wade is pretty far from home today but he’s also certain he’d remember that baby-face if he’d seen it before. On the other hand, he has spent the better part of the past few years feeling like he’s missed a step, so this conversation isn’t exactly anything new.[[A hot guy is willingly talking to us. Go with it.]][Don’t make an ass of yourself.]“Shaddup,” Wade grumbles, though Yellow has a point...

OR Peter thinks Wade knows his secret identity, and Wade is really confused by the hot coed who keeps popping up and hanging out with him.

Damage by dontcareajot (42k)

Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.

My Boyfriend's a Murder Bot by Fredegund (55k)

Wade Winston Wilson is ugly. His skin's inside out. It ripples and moves every second of every day, at constant war with the cancer. Vanessa put on a brave face for him when she first saw the changes, but it turns out even she can't stomach the sight for long. He's ugly and alone and nothing will ever be good in life again -

If only that were his only problem.

But Weapon X is at it again, under crisp new management, turning orphans into super slaves and bringing out the big guns to make sure nobody interferes this go around (namely one Pool comma Dead). So now, not only is Wade alone and ugly forever, but he's got a bit of a pest problem in the form of a black-clad murder-happy man spider with a collar around his neck and an unhealthy obsession with tying Deadpool up.

So maybe it's not all bad...

Paradise (spread out with a butter knife) by Sarah_Sandwich (72k)

He sighs from where he’s prone, arms akimbo, and roof gravel digging into his spine. “I lost my job. My… other job. The one that actually pays the bills.”

He doesn’t want to dwell on why he’s telling Deadpool of all people. Surely it has nothing to do with his desperate lack of friends. MJ is in California chasing her dreams, Harry’s undergoing treatment for his mental health and isn’t allowed visitors (not that it matters since they blacklisted Peter after last time), and Gwen… Well.

And it’s not like he can talk to Aunt May without her worrying about him starving to death under a bridge or something so… Deadpool it is. Man, when did his life get this pathetic?

OR: The one where Peter and Wade are literal soulmates but don't realize it for literal years because they're literal idiots.

Dissonance by stuckybarnes (121k)

Wherein Deadpool is reluctantly hired to protect Peter Parker from an organization out to hunt him, with varying success on both ends and quite a lot of feelings, revelations, and identity crises.

I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I did, and please let me know if you have any more Spideypool recs! And, as always, thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing these incredible fics with us <33

[captain-mj]

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

[amagellaniccloud]

Yandere Ghost x Reader

I originally wanted this as a one-shot but, now it is a short series. I never thought I'd be into the Yandere thing but I got into it after listening to Lana del Rey.

I tried to make this as GN as possible, if I missed something please let me know y'all <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This series will contain sexually explicit content. If you are a Minor please respect this rule and scroll past and DO NOT ENGAGE WITH NSFW POSTS.

⚠ Warnings ⚠

Stalking, Severe Anxiety, Drugging.

I'll add more warnings as the series progresses

Fic under the Cut

Everyone always talked about that specific feeling, y'know the one, when it feels like you're being watched. You get and endless waves of goosebumps because of it, your brain starts running at 100 miles per hour, every little sound, the snap of a twig, a crack of a soda can, the whistling of the rusted street lamps, puts you on high alert and makes you snap your head back to see if you're clear from danger.

Well, that is exactly what you are feeling right now. You had been feeling this for a week straight. Whenever you would go to work, the store, etc. there would always be that lingering sense of someone's eyes on you. Now it's even worse, even if you go out in your yard, or go to check the mail you'd get that same feeling.

You had brought this concern up to the authorities but, they didn't do much. You thought that maybe you were just imagining it. However, your suspicion of being stalked was yesterday. You had been applying for a new job and had just gotten accepted, today was your first day. When you got home from work that day, a letter was slipped between the crack of your front door.

Congratulations on the new job! Hope this one's better than the last one. █████ █████ was a real bitch, huh, good thing you won't have to deal with him anymore <3

You bolted inside as soon as you read the contents of the letter. This was it, you were gonna die, This person knew where you lived. You just went and sat on the couch, trying to process the situation.

It turned your stomach, it felt like your intestines were rearranging themselves, and, your heartbeat got even slower, and was squeezing inside of yourself with every passing minute.

You were sweaty, so sweaty that your palms had soaked the letter, now the contents of it barely legible.

You decided to crumple up the letter and throw it away, it needed to get out of your sight. You decided to put on some music and go do work around the house, it would be distracting, you thought. You just needed anything to get your mind off of that letter.

It was the next day, you were running on nothing but caffeine. That night, it was as if your body and mind had forgotten how sleep worked. You just could not fall asleep.

You had put on music in your room to get rid of your poisoning thoughts, but every time the music faded, there was silence. A silence so loud that you thought that the clothes on the chair was a man standing in the corner of your room. That caused you to turn on the lights in your room and just lay on your bed, with your eyes wide open.

Maybe it is something that'll just fade with time. The fear instilled within you caused you to not even pay attention in the work meeting and you had to ask your co-workers about it. The work was….. nice. There were people around you, it wasn't loud, but it wasn't silent there. For the First time in almost two weeks, you felt safe.

You decided to do overtime. It would provide you with the sense of security you were oh-soo longing for. You had even gotten in a 45-minute nap. However, all good things must come to an end. You needed to go home. The place you'd never thought you'd dread so much after your teens.

The drive was long, or, it felt long. You stopped at a gas station to buy some beer or maybe a cigarette. The other person shopping in the store caught your eye though. He looked, hot. He was tall, muscular, and had a tattoo sleeve done. You said a simple good evening to him, he replied with the same and went on your merry way. He was really good looking but now's not the time to chase after men, after all, a man may very well be chasing after you right now.

You shook your head as you shivered at that thought. You needed to go home and eat, caffeine isn't gonna last you forever. When you stepped inside your house, you smelt something from the kitchen. It smelled like a freshly baked pizza and made your stomach growl. You were so hungry that you were smelling things that weren't there….. or, were you?.

You went into the kitchen and found exactly that. A Freshly Baked Pizza. Beside it was a note that read;

You shouldn't work overtime on your second day, you'll get burned out. Here, I made something especially for you. Now eat up ok? I didn't see you pack any lunch so you must be starving. <3

No. No no. No NO NO. As you fearfully baked away from that wretched food you bumped into the wall. Or was it a wall?

In what felt like an instant. A large hand grabbed your shoulder and another hand put a cloth over your mouth. You fought against the person holding you, this is not how you wanted to die, but no matter how hard you fought, the person didn't budge. You were starting to lose feeling in your limbs and your eyes were starting to shut on their own. You tried to get one punch in, as a last-ditch effort to be free, but you weren't able to do anything.

The last that you saw was a familiar blonde man, he looked eerily similar to the one at the gas station. You wanted to speak, yell something but couldn't. As your vision got blurry, you couldn't fight anymore and your eyes closed shut. Maybe they'll never open and then you won't have to face the reality that's waiting for you…

[ilys00ga]

𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 4k

➞ synopsis: buying a pretty vase from an antiques shop can't be that bad of an idea, can it?

➞ genre: fantasy, some angst, bitter sweetness is good for our hearts, fluff, hurt/comfort, cursed ghost!yoongi...

➞ A/N: So, this isn't the fic I talked about before, but I still wanted to post something while I take my time to figure out what the hell I wanted the other fic to be. this is purely inspired by a random prompt I found on a random website, and I wanted to give it a try. I hope u like it <3

ps. PLEASEEEE !!!!!!! do not hesitate to send me ur feedback (comments, asks, reblogs... whatever u want) !!!!!! just give me ur opinions. I'd love to hear it all :,)

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The tips of my fingers meticulously traced the lines and patterns that coated the vase between my hands. A gorgeous ceramic vase that came with an even more gorgeous lid I had come upon at the small antiques store a few hours earlier, which—in my honest, humble opinion—was poorly and deficiently frequented given the amount of goodness it vends.

It was one that I’ve passed by many times on my way to work before, located in an old street busy with other art stores. Each time I’d stopped at it, fascinated by the items I could see through colorless glass, I’d get that strange desire to enter and discover what it had to offer me, but it wasn’t strong enough to pull me inside.

Broken or not, there’s magic hidden in those old items. Stories and emotions traveling from the past all the way to my heart.

Until one day, I decided to surrender to those powerful items and made my way through the front door. It was indeed a dusty magic shop.

I put the vase on the table with extra care and opened the lid, my dog running around somewhere in the other room. A quick look inside the vase, however, had my brows rising.

"Is this.. powder?" I asked myself.

Back in the shop, nothing hinted that the vase contained anything, nor did the owner utter a single word about it. She, in fact, didn't even seem to be that interested in her very few customers, if I were to be honest. The newspaper she was reading throughout all that short period of time I was in there had her eyes fixed on it, for the most part.

I swallowed hard, feeling like my heart had been ripped off my chest and drowned in icy cold water with the thought of getting unknowingly tangled in some illegal activities.

Loud barks, then the crashing of something cut my new overwhelming awareness short, and I sprinted in search of my hyper dog.

"What did you break this time, Holly?" I made quick work of cleaning the mess Holly had made, giving him some treats because he looked so cute nonetheless then returned to what I had decided to call a cursed beauty later on.

Upon entering the room, the sight of a man looking through my limited collection of vinyls with his back facing me made my legs freeze in their place, and my heart almost slipped out of my mouth in another alert panic.

"What the hell?!" my lips shouted before I could even think of finding something to defend myself in the face of that stranger.

The man dropped the disk in his hands and faced me with wide eyes. His startled expression quickly snapped into a kind smile, and he spoke, "Hey, are you the one who opened the urn?"

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?!!" my heart was pounding in my ears. I quickly went through the details from the moment I walked into the apartment to that of when I came back to the room, checking if I missed any hints of somebody breaking in or not.

The stranger started walking towards me with an arm stretched out, and I quickly backed away, looking around before grabbing the first hard object I could find within my sight line, "Stay away from me!"

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you." He stopped in his tracks and raised his hands in the air, "I'm Yoongi, Min Yoongi, and you just set me free from that damn urn. Thank you, by the way."

The more he talked, the colder my blood was running in my veins and the slippier the object was becoming as I gripped it with sweating hands for dear life. Nothing he said made any sense. All I could do was shout in frustration, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

The patter of paws slapped across the corridor floor, and Holly came running into the living room. The dog started barking when he saw the stranger, but the latter didn’t even flinch. Instead, he sighed, breathing heavily through his nose, and then looked back up at me. But before he could say anything more, I huffed.

"Are you a serial killer?" I wanted to cry. Actually, he looked too pretty to be that coldhearted. I figured that maybe if I cried, he'd feel bad and leave me alone. Or maybe, if I took the chance to launch at him first, right then and there, that'd do something.

I could either die an honorable death, attempting to fighting back, or lay myself bare skinned for my predator, and no one would be a witness outside of the walls of the room that were only getting colder and colder by the ticking seconds.

Well, maybe Holly would, but he’s busy barking, not moving from his place at all.

"Look, I really don't know how you ended up here. I-I don't want to know, yeah? I will even let you go and not speak a single word about this. Just please don't kill me. Yeah? I'd do anything you want, just- please?" I began to plead, sweating like crazy even though the room around felt too icy.

The man didn’t reply, crouching down to lure my dog over. Holly’s small head cocked to the side before slowly moving closer to him. If I weren't busy trying to steady my breathing while simultaneously making sense of whatever was going on in the middle of my living room, I would’ve palmed my face.

"I told you, I'm Yoongi and I'm not a serial killer. This thing you have here, the one you just opened," he explained, nodding towards the open ceramic vase on the table, "I, my soul was trapped in there."

I blinked, a beat or two slipped through my lips, then muttered, “You’re being serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like this?” he retorted, hands petting the pet on his lap, and added in a softer voice, “I understand how crazy this sounds, but in simpler words, I was trapped inside and once the lid was lifted, which is what you have done, I was able to get out.”

“Oh, so you say once the vase is shut again you’ll go back there, is that it?” I breathed out, picking my words cautiously.

He hummed and nodded, still focused on the dog he was playing with. Taking my chance, I rushed towards the table. With trembling hands, I grabbed the lid and screwed the vase shut.

"No, wait! Don't clo-"

Silence…

The familiar sound of multiple clocks ticking together, hand in hand and almost perfectly at the same time, welcomed me into the antiques shop.

The shop was practically empty. No customers were in sight. My only audience was the oil paintings hanging on the walls, the lamps and the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, the tables and the surfaces that displayed everything: from old jewelry to dolls and collectible plates and cups, the sculptures in different shapes and sizes scattered everywhere, the old books, cameras, vases and musical instruments…

They all stared at me and the vase I was holding tightly to my chest.

Walking ahead, I reached the front counter where the same old woman stood reading some newspaper. Despite the clearly audible bell that rang every time the door was swung open, she didn't seem to be recognizing my entrance. I cleared my throat in an attempt to grab her attention, but it fell on blinded ears.

Sighing, I put the vase on the counter with a thud and declared my aimed objective, "I'm here to return this."

"No exchange, no refund." The woman finally, but dryly, replied.

"You have to understand, I can't keep this anymore." I insisted.

"No exchange, no refund!" She repeated in a stern tone, looking up and meeting my eyes.

"Fine," I took a deep, long breath in, "you're the owner, tell me what do I do with it then."

"Its colors go very well with any kind of furniture, but I'd say keep it on a shelf amidst other decorations." The contrast between the way she spoke so friendly and the tight smile she had on her lips poked at my nerves.

"Are you kidding me? I just said I don't want this cursed thing anywhere near me! It has a weird powder in it! and-" I paused, lowering my voice despite the fact that the shop was empty—minus me, its owner and its goods, "some weird ghost appeared out of it!"

The antiquarian silently folded her newspaper, put it on the counter in front of her, and stayed silent for a while, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Use the ashes and break the curse." She mumbled.

"Ashes…? What?"

"You heard me. Break the curse and save the dead." She didn't say anything further, busying herself with the newspaper again, and that was my key to leave.

"Next time, don't sell cursed stuff to innocent people who don't have enough time on their hands." I turned on my heels and stomped out of the shop with the vase between my hands.

Three days later:

“Alright, talk to you later.”

Stepping into the apartment, I hung up the phone and put it on the small coffee table. Holly was curled up on the sofa with his nose tucked under his tail. My body naturally bent down, and I pecked the pup’s head affectionately.

It had been exactly three days since I came back from the small antiques shop, put the vase on the shelf, and never dared to touch it again. Every morning and every night, I’d stared at it and contemplated whether I ought to open it and investigate what the hell was going on or not. The shop owner’s words never left my ears, ‘break the curse and save the soul.’

Three days had passed, and I still hadn’t made my mind up or got to any simple conclusion whatsoever. The thought of having somebody else’s ashes in my house made my stomach twist in ways, yet somehow I couldn't find the courage to empty the urn.

Well, at least it wasn't coke or something of the kind. That thought floated in my head as I lay on my bed the same night I’d come back from the shop.

Stuck in a quandary between the fear of what could be awaiting me and the burden that was unceasingly weighing both my heart and mind, I knew that having a staring contest with that damn container day and night wasn’t going to do me any good.

After yet another fruitless debate between me and my conscious mind, I slowly walked towards the shelf, carefully put my hand over the lid, lifted it up and stared at the powder—the ashes inside.

I waited, nothing happened. Looked around the room, nothing happened.

For a moment, I could feel a scoff bubbling its way up my throat. It was ridiculous, I felt ridiculous for expecting something, for believing that something would happen and that all of that madness was real.

How could a tale about the soul of a cursed, handsome man popping out of an ancient vase be real?

But then again, I recalled the thing the old woman had said to me, as well as that encounter I had with the strange man. Very vividly clear. I remembered it, it happened, it was real.

"You didn't throw it away." A low voice came from behind and made me jolt in surprise.

There he was, the strange man—Yoongi leaning on the doorframe with both of his hands tucked in his pockets.

Part of me was grateful he was there because I didn't have to worry about my mental well-being deteriorating. But the other one shivered, creeped out by his presence, by the whole situation.

"Thank you." Why is he so polite? "I was scared you too would throw me away." Oh?

I lightly shook my head, trying to find the proper words to express myself, and I said, "Listen, I need answers."

“I figured. What is it that you want to know?”

"I-I talked to the person that sold this thing to me, and she said that I need to use these… ashes to break a curse.” Somehow, my brain was more than aware of the fact that the man standing a few steps away from me was most probably not human.

“yeah…?” He mumbled back, “didn’t she say how to do that?”

I shook my head ‘no’, and if his disappointed, broken look surprised me, I tried my best not to make it visibly noticeable.

“What the hell are you exactly?” I asked. I wasn't sure what emotion(s) I was feeling at that very moment exactly. I couldn’t put a name to it to save my life. But I surely didn’t mean to sound as exasperated as my voice made me out to be. I could see his throat work as he gulped, eyes averting from mine to look down at the floor for a moment before looking up again.

"I died a hundred years ago. A witch attempted to kill me, and she did, before casting a curse and trapping me inside that thing over there." he pointed towards the antique vase behind me, then added, "in my ashes. I've been trapped there for years. Some people did stumble upon me when they opened it over the years. Just like you did. But they never gave me one chance to even speak, and they threw it out immediately."

“But why? What did you do to deserve all of this?”

A gloom overcame his eyes, yet his voice was steady and deep as his lips stretched into a smile that only the word ‘sour’ could do its description justice.

"That's what happens when one falls in love with a witch.” He replied, “anyways, that’s all I know. I've been trying to figure out how to break the curse, but being stuck in a jar serves for nothing.”

Neither of us spoke for a while, him standing amidst the echoes of his past and my voice trying to find its way through the strangled words stuck in my throat.

“I’ll help you.” I spoke, breaking the heavy silence.

“Really?” His face was so full of hope it sent my heart clenching between my ribs.

“Yeah. This is making me anxious as well, I have no other choice.” I answered, brushing it off with a shrug.

“What brings you back here?” said the antiquarian who was busy polishing some old pocket watches, her glaces hanging low on the tip of her nose.

“I- We need some help.” I answered, and her head snapped up to find me and Yoongi staring back at her at the front counter.

“How could an old antiques shop owner possibly be of any help to you youngsters?” She asked again.

“I assure you that I’m not younger than you.” came a comment from Yoongi.

She stared at him, her relaxed expression turning tense, and then she looked at me again. Instead of providing an answer, I put the open vase in front of her. She gave it a quick look and then looked back into my eyes. “You are one stubborn young woman.”

“I’m not here to return it.” I cut her off to explain myself, “I’m here to know how to break the curse and release his soul.”

“I see you let him walk around freely.”

“Why is that a problem?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t a wandering dead be a problem to the living?” Her brows rose just as she gestured with her head towards Yoongi, as if stating the most obvious scientific fact, “anyhow, you want to know what to do next, don’t you?”

I hummed.

“All you need to do is throw the ashes into the ocean, let it dissolve and become one with the salt water. Tomorrow, when the sun sets.”

“Why specifically tomorrow?” I asked.

“Full moon. Or else your efforts will go down the drain. Do not let that happen” She emphasized on the last part through gritted teeth.

“How do you know so much?” Yoongi was the one to ask.

“I am nothing but a mere shop owner. Buying old stuff and selling them, that’s what I do.”

“You must be a special kind, then.” He bantered.

She shrugged and replied, “I study my products. We’re talking about items that date back to hundreds of years ago.”

She handed me a small pouch bag and told me to put the ashes in there, saying that it would be easier than carrying an open urn around. She seemed displeased with Yoongi’s presence, which was quite understandable, but it didn’t phase him as he was more interested in the shop around him. Walking around with curious eyes.

“Do not spend too much time out there.” was the last thing she addressed to Yoongi before we walked out of the shop.

“You think there’s more cursed things in that shop?” he asked.

“I do not want to think about it.” He chuckled at my response, then I added, “Full moon is tomorrow night.. Do you want to spend one last day with me?"

"Sorry?"

"I think you deserve one last good day before.. resting."

I watched him give my offer a thought as we walked down the street, then he broke into a wide smile, "You mean it?"

“Of course! You’re new here. We can't do much in less than a day, but we can do things around the town. And then we’ll go to the beach before the sun sets, do what we need to do…”

“That sounds way too good to be true.”

“We'll make it true.” I reassured him with a nod.

The next morning, I found Yoongi sitting with a book I could easily recognize from my own collection resting in his hands. He had told me that since he doesn’t sleep, he spent the night reading from my bookshelf. After a few minutes of me listening as he talked so passionately, impressed by everything he’d read, I decided it was time to commence my mission of granting the man his most merited happy day.

It started with a short trip to a well-known bakery, where I made him try whatever his heart—and stomach—desired of baked goods. I bought him wine to taste, and he said it bore no resemblance to that of ancient times. That's how we found ourselves running a taste test on a bunch of beverage bottles, and he had the same reaction to all of them. I also ended up getting him some soda cans to try, and he liked them.

I rented two bikes. It took some time for him to adjust, whining about being confined inside a jar for a hundred years. But once he got the hang of it, we went wandering around the streets of the city with the breeze kissing our cheeks.

I then brought him to a park, one he later said he really liked. We walked between the trees and let the grass tickle our toes. Sat between colorful flowers, redolent with the scent of an early spring. He made a crown and insisted on taking a picture of me with it. He later revealed that he used to love nature the most when he was still alive, and talked about the days he’d spent in the green despite his father’s constant insistence on marriage and building a family of his very own.

I asked him how old he was when he died, he said twenty-eight. And suddenly, his appearance made sense after that. Too young and too handsome, how could the world still let go of him?

He laughed when I made a comment about that and joked, saying that apparently his past lover didn’t want him to live past twenty-eight. I could feel the heavy pain in that joke slicing at my neck, stinging, and I swallowed it down.

He stopped to pet every dog and cat that crossed our path. I couldn’t help but take a picture or two, though the camera never caught his reflection in its frame.

I made sure to drag him towards the kid’s section of the park, where I taught him how to play in the slides and the swings and spring riders. Two grown-ups playing around in a kids’ playground had its fair amount of questioning stares, but hearing him giggle and seeing his wide grin was more than worth it.

We kept on talking nonstop about the differences between our timelines. We made it to a bridge that looked over a lake, the clouds above reflected on the water surface, glowing with the sun behind them. Yoongi started throwing small pieces of bread for the floating ducks, and I just stood there, observing.

“What other place do you want to go to?”

“The beach.” He answered, not looking up from his task. “My favorite place.”

It was a couple of hours before the sunset when we finally made it to the beach. There was a chill in the air that evening, the sand wasn’t as burning as it probably was when the sun was still up high in the sky, beaming. I let my lungs sip on the fresh scent of the ocean as I took a deep breath in, watching Yoongi approach the water with distant eyes.

He let the foamy edge climb its way to his toes, dipping his ankles and then retreating to the sea. He sat on the sand and I did the same.

We didn’t talk. We just sat there and watched the waves dancing with the wind as the sun sank to meet the horizon.

It wasn’t until shades of blue, orange and red blended, interwoven as they painted the breathtaking scenery before us that he spoke in a hushed voice, as though he’d startle the sun and make it rush to hide under the ocean if he spoke any louder, “Thank you for everything, really. No one has ever been this nice to me, even when I was still alive. This meant the most to me.”

I smiled.

“You know, if I were still alive, or if we had met sometime in my lifetime, I would’ve done everything I could to keep you by my side.” I could see him scratch at the back of his head from the corner of my eye, and I turned to see his giddy smile.

“you shouldn’t say things like this ‘cause I’m going to be thinking about it for the rest of my life.” I said, sheepishly.

His smile grew bigger, “Sounds superb. At least someone will remember me.”

My heart clenched.

“You deserve to be remembered.” I said.

“I really don’t.” I could see tears pricking his eyes as they turned a faint red. I had so much to ask at that moment, but I couldn’t. Words were stuck behind my teeth, and I just turned my head to face the horizon again.

“It’s time.” He noted, standing up and offering his hand to me. I took it in mine and stood on my feet, gripping the pouch between my fingers. We marched deeper into the sea, deep enough that the water reached our knees.

“ready?” I asked one last time, and he nodded, his smile never fading away.

The pouch felt so heavy as I untied its drawstring, carefully emptying its content into the water. Yoongi stood behind me, and I didn’t have the heart to look over my shoulder.

It took everything in me to turn around, and when I did, he was no longer there. Breeze blew in my face, and I swear I could feel warmth touching my skin for a moment, or two.

Whether I’d want to visit that antique shop again or not was something I still can’t put my finger on, but somewhere, somehow, deep down I knew I was thankful for it guided the vase– the urn to my hands.

And I whispered prayers of him resting at peace ever after as I looked up at the glowing moon above and the sparkling stars that swimmed all around it.

Grieving a person I never knew, but had the chance to cross paths with, at last.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Oopsie Baby

I don't have the spoons to go on a huge deep dive, but thoughts of excited father-to-be Jack taking care of Alice while she's pregnant is gnawing on my brain meats again.

I know I've mentioned at least once or twice in my previous posts on the topic, but I think Jack will only be able to get his sunshine pregnant if both of them are 100% on board with it. He can't do anything they don't want to after all.

But what that wasn't the case? What if MCs possessing a functional uterus were just as at risk of an oopsie baby from Jack as they would from a non-ghost(?) lover?

Just imagine the potential drama involved.

If MC still had lingering doubts that Jack was real even after they become lovers, I'd say being pregnant would dispel them nicely. Pregnancies tend to be a really powerful reality check after all.

Alice would be hit with so many emotions when finding out. She'd also be kicking herself for not buying condoms for Jack. She's not ready for a baby yet! Her job barely keeps herself alive, let alone a child. She's not in a state to handle this!

Then of course there's the fact that no one else can see/hear/touch Jack. Alice has been working through all the implications just being lovers, as well as who and how to convince that he's not just a figment of her imagination. An oopsie baby just adds a ton more things to worry about.

Fortunately Alice has Jack to help keep her grounded. She also has a loving family to support her, and good friends like Shaun.

Jack would, of course, be so ecstatic to the point that things seem less real than they were before. He's going to be a father! The world might act like he doesn't exist, but this is proof, real and true proof that he exists. It's almost too good to be true.

But Jack tries not to let his excitement and disbelief sweep him away, not while Alice is consumed with worry over all the logistical details. His need to protect and take care of her is ramped up to the max.

It's not that Alice doesn't want to have a baby with Jack. She wants to have children one day with the one she loves, and she loves Jack so much, but it's too soon! She feels so overwhelmed it's like she's drowning.

There's so much potential for moments of Jack reassuring Alice... and maybe some yandere moments where he knows he needs to take steps to protect her and their baby. Money and a good home are a problem, so like a good protector he's got to provide.

I mean, Jack was an adult in the 80's, and even today there's such a strong social pressure for men to be the providers. They're the ones bringing in the money and making sure their wives are safe and protected at home. Jack is supportive of Alice working of course. He's not one to force her into traditional gender roles, but that doesn't mean he can't be subconsciously influenced by them.

Without time to prepare for this baby, it's possible that desperate measures might need to be taken to ensure that their little family is taken care of. What might make it worse is if a certain ex is trying to use this as an opportunity to get back together.

After all, Ian is earning a lot of money now. He's so desperate to make amends, he won't hesitate to support the child of the rebound his ex had after he cheated. It's only fair, and it'll prove just how sorry he is for the rest of his life. He'll love that baby like it's his own.

Not that Jack will have anything to say about it of course.

Alice isn't going to go back to Ian, but if money is tight enough... she might have to consider letting him back into her life again as a friend even if it's toxic for her. Even if he's clearly using it as an opportunity to patch things up between them and try again. She can keep telling him no and just tolerate how much it hurts her. She has to put her baby first after all...

It's not like she's not used to putting others first even if it hurt while she and Ian were together...

As you might expect, Jack isn't going to be happy about Alice considering putting herself through something like that. He certainly won't allow Ian the chance to hurt her again.

Even though Jack is sure she won't go back to Ian, even though he knows Alice doesn't love Ian anymore those yandere fears are going to gnaw at him regardless.

Between these angsty/dramatic moments of Jack reassuring Alice, protecting her from the world and Ian, there's also moments of sweetness. He gets to marvel at the proof that he's real, even if part of him still struggles to believe it.

Things might have happened far too quickly, but they love each other. They can overcome this challenge together.

I'd keep rambling, but I'm out of spoons, so I'll have to continue on this idea later. I hope y'all enjoyed!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps