#ghosts with cat logic

[silicon-puppy-pudding]

Small Danny Phantom Headcanon

Being a ghost makes Danny's body pretty flexible and I feel like cat rules apply to him.

Like, as long as he can fit his head through something, his whole body will follow suit. This would apply to his human half too cuz as a ghost he can just become intangible. But imagine Danny casually being a contortionist, not really registering that he's not supposed to be able to fit inside of a bookbag like that.

[aromanticannibal]

I have to become a monster high doll actually like now

[moved-to-void-kissed]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

Oh!! Thank you for this, Ruby! It means a lot to me that you'd count me as one of your favourite followers - thank you so much!!

..This was an absolute nightmare to narrow down to five songs, if I'm being completely honest, because I am almost entirely incapable of picking favourites when it comes to anything, let alone something as varied as songs. So, the way I picked was by reading more into "songs you like to listen to" and then picked five songs I know I have looped over and over again for a long sustained period of time. This might skew the overall vibes, but hopefully it's fine - it's just asking for "songs I like to listen to", not "songs that represent my music taste". (Also most of them are not in English, as a heads-up, though lyric translations are usually present on VOCALOID Lyrics Wiki.)

Last Resort, by Ayase. I like a number of Ayase's songs actually - Happy Ender, Cynical Night Plan, Yokubari, etc. - but this is my absolute favourite out of all those (well, maybe tied with Happy Ender). I kind of have a mini-PV running in my head for what's going on in the song when I'm listening to it, and it's generally just a good song to have going on as background music.

Shinkai City Underground, by TanakaB. Its lyrics are nonsensical in every translation of them I know, but the song itself sounds super catchy, and I also link it to one of my self-inserts (Lamia, specifically), so it ticks a lot of boxes! I like a lot of covers of it, moreso than the original Rin version actually (though that's probably because this song is from 2011..), so let's also pick this Meiko V3 one, if you wanted to have a listen to that.

MONSTER, by KIRA. I was torn between picking this or B.B.F, as both are extremely great and iconic songs (as are a number of KIRA's songs, honestly), but the next song on the list kind of fills a similar sort of niche to my ear as B.B.F, so I went with MONSTER. Another one that functions as a self-insert song, actually - this time for my Kingdom Hearts self-insert, Aria. This is the only one that's actually in English, oops.

SNOBBISM, by Neru and z'5. It's just fun. I associate it a lot with Splatoon, without any real reason (I'd say ROKI sounds more like it fits or is from that game, to be honest) other than assigning it to a team of OCs that I made back in Year 10. Oh, and I used Bizu (the demon character featured in the PV) as my icon during the final Splatfest, since I was part of Team Chaos and I felt he represented that aptly.

ROKI, by mikitoP. Again, it's just fun. And I think it's a neat touch that, in the original version of the song, the producer who wrote it is actually singing alongside Rin! ..That said, I do also like the version used at Magical Mirai, which has Len sing those parts instead (just as a warning, the video here is a concert recording, so it might have some strobe effects).

There are many other songs I could have put here (this doesn't even cover some of what I would say are my most listened-to producers, like Ferry or Hachi), but hopefully these are alright? It's kind of late for me, so I hope that all of this makes sense ;w;

Thank you very much again for sending this to me!! I hope that you're having a great day, 'cause you deserve it ^-^

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (2)

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes

Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 

Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 

He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 

Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-

He doesn’t have a crush. 

Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 

It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 

It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 

You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 

His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 

You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 

(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)

For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 

For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 

It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 

You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 

If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 

He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 

You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 

You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 

He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 

This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.

Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

[diejager]

I loved your hybrid bunny reader:) like imagine any cod characters with Feral! hybrid wolf reader that they found on a mission or something. I don’t really care where it goes from there

(Just deleted it if your not interested)

Wolfie

Pairing: CoD men x feral!Wolf!hybrid!reader

Cw: uh… feral reader? Tell me if I missed any. wc: 1.8k

It was a recon mission, scouring the area for any trap and stragglers, not a scantily-clothed hybrid with sharp ears curving backwards in aggression and the matted and dirty fur on the tail. They were searching the forested area for danger and any surprises, but they hadn’t expected to pick up a stray, a feral wolf huddled into the darkness of a tree’s roots, growling at them from your little hideout between the roots in the pit you dug yourself.

Soap was the first to take the initiative, crouching down to your home, showing you his empty hands and whispering comforting promises to your growling and shaking figure. He slowly approached you, a smile spread wide on his face despite the increasingly loud growls and the raised hair on your ears and tail. His soft smile and comforting hand coaxed you out of your hideout, crawling out on your hands and knees, palms bloodied and crusted with calluses and knees hard with throbbing and irritated skin.

Although you seemed more approachable, Gaz did so from the side, his gentler and more logical thinking had him act more hesitantly towards you, a bit more cautious and fearing that he’d scare you away or make you act out if you were spooked. He’d seen a few hybrids in the past, getting to know some quips and behaviours of a hybrid. He has a bag of peanuts, showing you the unopened packet of salted nuts for you to eat, to which you perked up with curiosity. Gaz’s smile grew much wider when your shaky hands took his gift, sharp claws ripping a hole into the plastic to grab a peanut.

From then on, they kept you, ushering you to their temporary base and having you washed from all the dirt and soot that stuck on you from your days in the wilderness, lost, alone and afraid. They took you in, watching over you with a guarded and protective hold. You moved when they moved, joining them on every flight if they were going to use a temporary base until you were trained in combat and tactics to join them in the field. Ghost personally saw to your training, being hands-on and attentive with you, hands holding you or moving you into the right position or giving you cues.

When you’re qualified enough, Price gave you a proud ruffle, messing up your while he smiled pridefully at your accomplishment. He let you cuddle up with him that night, nose pressing against the skin under his jaw with soft crooning from your throat, bathing him in your scent before you went to the others. It was a ritual you often did every few days, snuggling against them and scenting them.

Gaz in the morning, after breakfast and before he went to do his drill. Soap after the drills and fresh out of the shower, cuddling up to him in the Task Force’s rec room. Ghost in the afternoon, when the place was calmer and him, less stressed and tense from the day's work, tiredly working on some paperwork while you snuggled up to him. Finally, Price when he went to sleep, his bed became your bed during these nights.

You meet Alejandro and Rodolfo on another Joint Task Force Op in Mexico to bust a trafficking ring led by the cartel and supported by many international groups around the world, whom you’ll have to take down one by one in their times. You were tasked with tracking the trafficked people rather than having any K9s, your nose and mind sharper than any dog could be, trained and skillful as well.

You were on edge when you first landed, shoulders squared and head held high, posturing your possession of your team. They stared at you, confused with your sudden change of attitude, from relaxed and grinning to aggressive and protective, until they saw a few dog hybrids and cat hybrids running around. You could smell them from the moment you landed, most were domesticated animals, but there were a few ocelots, jaguars, coyotes and pumas, yet no wolves.

Rudy was openly praising you, welcoming you the moment they saw you pop out behind the men. He thought you were a dog, maybe a husky, so when you snarled at him for touching your ears, he backed away, shocked, but not offended. Price explained that you were a wolf hybrid, coat thicker and courser than the soft fur of a husky, but it could become softer after a shower with conditioner on your tail and ears. Ultimately, you let him pet and touch you after he won your respect, trusting him enough to let your guard down and doze off beside him. Maybe you’d scent him one day, adding him to your pack, he’d like that.

Alejandro’s professionalism kept him at a distance, restraining his excitement and giddiness of meeting the 141’s hybrid, their first one. Unlike Rudy, whose rank was closer to yours, Alejandro had to keep in mind that he was a colonel from a foreign military and a stranger to you. He waited until the first expedition, watching the men depend on your cognitive abilities. You were sharper than the dog or coyote hybrids the Los Vaqueros had, you stalked like a wolf, you hunted, acted and killed like one, fast and ruthless. He could outwardly say that he admired your skills, and how well taught you were (to which you smiled and stuck to Ghost, showing Alejandro that Ghost had been the one to train you). 

By the time the Op in Mexico came to term, you felt dejected at leaving, head lowered and ears pointing downward, you were pouting up until you were strapped down, lips pulled in a frown and teary puppy eyes. Alejandro kissed your calloused knuckles and Rudy brought you in his arms, embracing you, they let you scent them one last time before you left, promising that it wouldn't be the last time you see them.

In an unfortunate - or fortunate - turn of events, SpecGru and KorTac had the same objective, meeting up to form a temporary alliance between both PMCs. Unlike your PMC, KorTac was actively recruiting hybrids for their skill set and abilities, so you clashed a lot with the allied hybrids. You clashed with Roze and Horangi a few times, growling at the cougar and tiger hybrid. You outwardly showed your distrust and aggression towards them, wanting to protect your pack even though you knew they were your allies, you just couldn’t ignore your instincts. Even König, the giant bear hybrid, wasn’t free of your aggression, it was laughable to see the smaller wolf hybrid bare their teeth at the giant bear hybrid - a Kodiak bear. 

Ghost would scruff you, holding you back from jumping at them (although he wanted to let you tear through them) until you calmed down, and when you did, seeing past your aggression and protective mindset, you were great company. The Kodiak bear was a ball of anxiety compared to your more sociable character, nearly flinching back when you popped out beside him, smile wide and friendly as he blinked through his shock. He’s the first you befriend, having a lot in common with your sharp senses and predatory needs, seemingly feral rather than calm like the feline predators in KorTac. You were even tempted to ask König to be a part of your pack, wanting to snuggle up with him and co-scent, letting him drown you in his musk and him in your softer pheromones. 

Horangi was a bit harder to approach, his demeanour much too different from yours, but he tolerated you until he didn’t have a choice but to like you with how often König spoke about you and how much he smelled like you. You were a bit too rambunctious and feral for him, but he managed, letting you sit next to him while he cleaned his guns, head tilted to the side and staring at him like a curious pup would. If he forgot the times you shot and growled at him, he found you adorable, from your little shows of possessiveness to your feral aggression when you ripped into an enemy. He wouldn’t let you scent him like König did, but he wasn’t against the idea of scenting you, marking you as his property.

Even the solitary Roze and Mace warmed up to you, watching you run around the base doing something because you couldn’t sit still and do nothing, you had to be in movement and busy, but still stalking and observant, it helped you stay alive in the wilderness. She would flash a smirk your way when you did something that demanded her approval, whispering with Callisto - a posh cat, feline in her manners - about your job well done. “Comme un petit chiot,” the Frenchwoman would laugh. 

Mace reminded you of Ghost with his metallic skull strapped to his face, something that eased you into liking him, but he was human, unlike the many hybrids you often sparred with. He didn’t have a nose that could smell you from a distance or ears that could hear you stalk behind him, Mace was much easier to get to know than any enemy hybrids. No silent rivalry or competition for dominance between predators, he was simply human and more understanding. 

Working alongside other hybrids was something you had to learn, to hold good communication and trust, good thing wolves were sociable and pack animals. It was a learning experience for you, with Horangi teaching you how to control your ferality, to be calmer and less reckless, and with König mentoring you into using your wildness to hunt better, similarly to how he bulldozes into the enemies and ambushing them with a violent entrance. It was a surprise to see you as dejected to see them leave as you did with Los Vaqueros, fated to go back to being rivals until the time called for another allegiance.   

Extra: 

Nikolai had brought someone from the disbanded armistice back to work with the Task Force, a chaotic and violent man exiled from the KSK. Sebastian Krueger was a man who could and would create chaos and laugh while he did, but he was also rational and intuitive. In other words, Krueger was a menace to society and a perfect match for you. He greeted you like an owner would greet his dog, ruffling you and cooing at you with praises and affection. He was unaffected by your growling and biting, welcoming it with a boisterous laugh while he loomed over you with a veiled face and wide shoulders. 

You’d mistake him for a bear hybrid if you didn’t know any better. With his strong build and violent attitude, he could’ve been a grizzly, but no, he was a human with a grizzly’s behaviour. He was rough on the edge and caring at heart, much like König, but he wasn’t socially crippled, Krueger was a solitary person, preferring his solitude and quietness. That, however, doesn’t stop him from whisking you away to his side, a large hand on your thigh to keep you next to him and manhandling you as he pleased to nuzzle and bite like a chew toy. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny had no idea what a meta was, but appearently he had something called a meta-gene. One would think a mutation that can cause people to manifest superpowers from lab accidents would explain his disastrous career as a superhero, but they would be wrong. Dannys meta gene was never activated and the whole ghost fiasco was just eldrich shenanigans at its finest.

No, Danny's meta gene activated just two weeks ago on his fifteenth birthday where he was celebrating at Sam's place with Tucker. They had gotten into one of thier usual fights about food and Danny just did not want to deal with it and went into another room.

Sams cat didn't love him per say but it usually didn't hate him either. Today was not his lucky day. The kitty scratched him and wouldn't you know? His meta gene wasn't activated by an interdimentional portal opening up on top of him, it wasn't activated by the numerous energy blasts he had been hit with nor the various electric shocks.

No, it was activated by a freaking cat scratch.

He stared at himself in the mirror, glowing green eyes with slit pupils stared back at him. His kitty ears were folded back to show his shock and displeasure over the situation but it was still rather obvious what they were. The tail wagging slowly behind him was the same snowy white as his hair and ears.

He looked like Phantom. He looked like Phanton as Fenton. Ancients. There was no way he was going to be able to hide this. Transforming brought about no change other than the hazmat suit. He was so screwed. He couldn't go home like this.

Breathing heavily and on the verge of a panic attack he called Jazz once, twice, three times, but she didn't pick up. Danny knew he couldn't stay in the human world, it was too dangerous.

But if he wasn't there to protect the ghosts than it would be too dangerous for them to stay too. He knew for a fact Dani was staying with Dora while she taught her how to read and write so he had pretty much no qualms about destroying the portals and outing Vlad through a pre-made video of him transforming and boasting about his crimes to Phantom, courtesy of Tucker and him filming it all.

He felt bad about ditching his friends one last time, and at his own birthday party no less! But he knew if he tried to say goodbye they would guilt him into staying and it would end horribly so he left a note explaining what happened and bounced.

Destroying the portals hadn't taken much time or effort nor did destroying over 20 years of research between the three. It was exploring the Ghost Zone that was giving him problems. He was always warned by Wulf not to open portals in the Ghost Zone unless you were very experienced cause if you screw up theres no telling when or where you will land. He thought back to Wulfs lessons and tried to conjure the image of lush wildlife and abundant food.

The place he ended up portaling to had neither of those things. In fact if felt like the opposite when he landed in a grimey alleyway in the dark of night.

A spotlight was pointed toward the sky, painting the clouds above in a yellow light holding a stylized image of a bat in the center. Danny wondered what that was about for only a minute before he heard the tell tale whoosh sound of someone landing in the alley behind him.

Dannys new instincts reacted before the logical part of his brain took hold causing him to whirl around with his ears flattened to his head and he hissed so furiously that the man with the red helmet (mask?) back up several paces while cursing furiously. The man also mentioned something about a "Pit" but Danny wasn't paying attention, he was scared out of his mind and bolted down the alleyways and out of sight before phasing into a dilapidated building and hiding under some rubble.

Later, Red Hood told Nightwing about the Lazarus Pit catboy demon and described it as nightmarish as possible before adding that it was kinda twinkish. He also added "for the love of God dickwing, don't let demon brat adopt that thing"

In Damians defence, he found Danny asleep next to Alfred the cat in Batcows barn and just decided he was thier new cat. In other news hes far more concerned with hiding Danny From Catwoman than from father.

[iateyourparents]

ghostie | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you met something very cute while waiting for boys to be done with exploring haunted place and decided to keep it.

warnings: fluff, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language), wasn’t proofread

pictures are from pinterest:)

You were sitting in the back of Sam’s car waiting for Sam, Colby, Seth and Nate to be done with exploring the haunted house.

You were supposed to be with them inside but because you felt ill earlier, you decided to stay in warm of the car, especially with the bad weather outside.

You knew it could even be hours till Sam and Colby will be done there but you weren’t complaining. Car was warm and you had a blanket, snacks, water and your phone so you were sure you wouldn’t die from boredom.

Currently you were watching old episodes of grey’s anatomy. No matter how many times you rewatched this show, you still were amazed by Addison’s entrance.

You were so into your show that you almost didn’t hear silent groan from under the car. Key word - almost.

Your first reaction was of course uneasiness, you were in a driveway of a haunted house so of course many possibilities went through your mind.

Then you heard it again and for sure, unless something wanted to lure you by pretending to be some animal, it wasn’t a ghost or some dark entity.

You were almost sure it was meowing of a cat, eventually really weirdly sounding dog.

But what concerned you was the fact that sound was coming from under the car and it didn’t sound nice. From just the sound of it you could say that the animal was scared and maybe even hurt.

So of course you did the only logical thing. You got out of the car and got on your knees to look under the vehicle. Rain was now pouring on you and you were sure your pants are already stained with dirt and water.

But there it was. Meowing silently, black cat was sitting probably trying to escape the cruel rain.

From its stained with dirt fur you deduced he must be a stray.

You carefully reached your hand in its way to see if it would escape but little creature only smelled it and went for pets. You peted it with smile and then you carefully lifted it from under the car and into your arms just to see that it was a girl.

“Hi baby, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?” you asked in baby voice and got into the warm car with cat in your arms “Do you have an owner baby?”

After moment of silence while you were petting her, you made a decision.

“Well, now you do have an owner. Even two owners” you smiled at her. Apart from dirt on her fur you didn’t saw any wounds so you carefully placed the cat on the blanket and reached for water to give it to her.

“What should I call you, hm?” you thought for a moment “Since you were here with ghosts maybe I will call you Ghostie? I think Colby will like it. Do you like it?” you observed the cat while she was drinking from your hand “I know animals don’t like visiting vet but we have to check you for wounds and some shit like flies, baby.”

You knew she wasn’t an old cat, for sure not older than few months so it broke your heart how someone could possibly leave that baby outside. Especially with that weather. It was certain death for that young animal.

After some time, in which you told Ghostie about Colby, you noticed Sam, Colby, Nate and Seth leaving the house so you quickly covered Ghostie with the blanket and your body.

You knew you would have to eventually tell boys about her but you decided it’s better for them to cool down after exploring first and then visit the vet.

You only hoped that Ghostie will be silent on your way home.

After few minutes while boys were saying goodbye to theirs guests, they got into the car and you asked “How was it?”

“It was great, love! We got so many evidences on the camera.” Colby smiled at you and started telling you everything about their investigations with Sam adding something sometimes.

So far your plan was working. You were already in LA, almost in your house and neither Colby or Sam noticed the presence of a little cat.

But unfortunately, Ghostie felt left out by boys and demanded attention by really loud meow.

Your eyes immediately got wide while Colby looked in the direction of the sound - your direction, and Sam narrowed his brows but didn’t looked away from the road.

“Y/n? What was that?”

“Why it sounded… like a cat?” asked Sam and you laughed awkwardly.

But you didn’t have to explain yourself. Ghostie did that for you by jumping out from where she was bundled in the blanket and got onto your boyfriend’s laps, demanding pets.

“And who’s that?” asked Colby while giving the cat pets she was asking for, but also looking back at you with something that was between amusement and resignation. He already knew what happened.

“Why there’s cat in my car?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, by the way Sam, turn left and go to nearby vet, please.” you asked and then you looked at Colby and laughed awkwardly again “Guess the cat’s out of bag now.”

He just sighed and shook his head.

“Does it have an owner?”

“Yeah” you nodded “Us.”

Colby looked at you with wide eyes.

“You don’t know if it had owners before?” he asked and you shyly shook your head “So you basically stole a cat?”

“She was under the car while I was waiting for you guys! And look at her, it’s obvious she was a stray.”

Colby only sighed but you could tell. He didn’t mind it, he just wasn’t expecting it.

“Her name is Ghostie.” you added silently and you could see that Colby was starting to smile.

“I like it.” he said and you bit back a wide smile that wanted to appear on your face.

“We’re here guys.” Sam announced parking next to an animal clinic.

You got out of the car with Colby while Sam declared he will wait in the car.

“I hope you know it was irresponsible.” Colby said to you while taking your hand with his free one and with the other one still holding Ghostie.

“Yeah, but you want to keep her.” you stated with a smirk and he only rolled his eyes and held door open for you.

“Whatever.” he snorted and kissed your forehead before heading to receptionist’s desk.

Now you were officially a family of three.

[scripted-downfall]

I swear, with every danmei book I read, the protagonist gets ever more oblivious. I mean, I started out with Wei WuXian of all people, sitting there not knowing that he's pining over his best-bro-bestie (who's also pining over him) until he decides ya know what? marriage bow time! Because that is a completely logical progression!

But then! There's Xie Lian! Who has a mfing Calamity-level ghost pining over him for 800 years --- casually building elaborate temples for his celebrity crush while said disaster god burns down his house --- and who makes out with Hua Cheng "fOr SpIriTuAl PoWeR" on the regular, and who regularly runs across strange characters with one eye covered, a strange red-based colour scheme, and a strange devotion to him, only to run into a certain strange one-eye-covered, red-schemed, devoted Ghost King... and who not only doesn't connect the red-coloured dots, but also comes to the completely sensical conclusion that see how well I can resist the wily temptations of *women*? clearly, the only reason I can't resist the wily temptation that is Hua Cheng is that Guoshi never considered that hot men exist! and also regularly tries "not to bother him" while the latter is vibing --- in the literally vibrating sense --- in Paradise Manor waiting for gege to ask him for help.

AND THEN. Because that! Wasn't! Enough! There's fucking SHEN QINGQIU. (I'm finally reading SVSSS! I finished book 3 and am tracking down 4 now!) Who spends three fricking books simping after Binghe like there's no tomorrow (which, to be fair, he doesn't think there is) because oh holy shit, he's such a white lotus, look at how pure and handsome and powerful, oh god oh fuck, yes he's going to kill me but at least I have the honour of being killed by The Luo Binghe, I'm so lucky, holy shit, wait why isn't he putting together a harem of women?!?!? he's plenty hot and powerful and badass enough??!?!?! and also insists to the very end that oh, no, sir, I'm completely straight. As a ruler. I invented rulers, actually. Because of how straight I am.

AND THEN!! IT SOMEHOW GOT WORSE?!?!? Because I made the mistake of starting The Husky and His White Cat Shizun. And Mo Ran is... well, he puts the "moron" into his name, that's for damn sure. I mean, at least he knows he's into guys from the beginning, but like. My guy. You cannot sit here and say "Obviously, Chu Wanning and I shared a deeply intense hatred" and then wax poetic about how hot and elegant and calm and composed he is for two paragraphs with any degree of credibility At All.

(I'm Thriving. Never before have I had four fixations unlocked at once. My sanity is struggling, but my mind is buzzing and the world is fast.)

[clairdelunelove]

dry the rain

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (rainy day drabble)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, awkward!ghost

synopsis: getting caught up in the rain during a mission is pretty miserable. but ghost makes it his goal to keep you dry and warm– even if it includes shedding off a layer!

a.n. I've been pushing myself to write more and I had a small idea come to mind since it's been raining a lot recently! personally, I imagine him in his 'jawbone' outfit in this one! stay safe, cuties! and if you wish to show more support here's my kofi! <3

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thinking about ghost's inner dilemma when the weather gets colder and he realizes that he'd offer anything to you– including his clothes.

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missions in the rain were, in many cases, the absolute worst. unbearably muddy terrain caused the task force to reroute several times, delaying the overall pick-up time, and he was essentially losing his patience over the whole ordeal. he still had inventory to check, weapons to reload, and strategies to draft. too much on the agenda; too little time. a huff leaves his lips as he hankers down in a rather secluded spot. there aren’t too many recruits flocking around him in this area since they’re preoccupied with shielding away from the incessant rainstorm. many of them crowd around large trees to find cover under the broad leaves. some were huddling to retain warmth because the onslaught of rain meant that a frigid breeze accompanied it. but he settles in the outskirts and it's tolerable. he’s adapted to shouldering the storm and chilliness. though, he does admit that the downpour was intense and his drenched balaclava was a consequence of that. it was so damp and sodden that it clung uncomfortably to the contours of his face. his hand claws at the front of his mask to ease the irritating feeling.

ghost who overhears your quiet sniffling despite your efforts of muffling the noise. it’s so hushed that he barely recognizes it over the harsh thundering of rain but his ears perk at the typical sound. and sure, he distinctly recalls that this is probably your first experience with such severe weather since you were belatedly tossed into this group but it’s a run-of-the-mill incident. technically, it’s not his problem. the icy wind is numbing enough to discern that a person is bound to experience some of the symptoms that coexist with this type of extreme weather. it’s only natural– nothing to fret over. yet, his head turns in your direction before logic can kick in. 

ghost who stiffly asks, “you cold?” like his eyes don’t frantically scan your face for any signs of discomfort. he’d already deduced your current state; spotting the blueish tint creeping up on the edge of your lips and how your eyes appear hazy. he shoves himself into your proximity and at this angle his physique engulfs you. his gloved hand reaches to push the hood of his khaki poncho down so he can properly assess your condition and at this moment he’s unbothered by how sopping wet his mask is. or how intense the rain is. doesn’t care about it anyway– just intends on helping you.  with rain droplets pouring down your face, you look like a hollow version of yourself. vaguely perceives the nauseating tug in his chest when you manage a bleak smile and joke, “was unprepared for this since I didn’t know it’d be raining cats and dogs.” 

ghost who knowingly shakes his head at your banter but still indulges you by murmuring, “is that how the sayin’ goes?” because he fancies the way your lips curl into a lopsided grin. thunder rumbles in the distance and the cozy moment is partially interrupted. ghost notices that your shoulders tense at the occasional roar and you absentmindedly hum in response to his question. you have the best intentions but it’s too late because he’s uttering a curse as your teeth chatter from the blitz of a strong gust of wind that seeps through your layers of clothing. 

ghost who silently begins to shed off his poncho; his only layer of rain-resistant clothing. doesn’t mull over the consequences of catching a cold or worse– never even considers it. he’s prepared to sacrifice for you. “oh,” he hears your surprised gasp and sees how quickly your hands outstretch to ward off his offering, “you need it more than I do, lieutenant. thank you though.” and there’s that sheepish smile on your face again. the flicker of your eyes informs him that you’re embarrassed for needing extra support. for being human. and he’ll never quite understand how genuinely selfless you are. the trait is synonymous to you and a source of strength that is entirely yours to keep. to thrive off of. “s’just take it, pup,” his voice rumbles as profound as a pass of thunder, “you’re cold.” 

ghost who jabs, “don’t fancy carryin’ ya when you get fuckin’ hypothermia,” and then adds under his breath, “don’t want to risk it. ‘specially not with you.” the first half is a total lie and it’s obvious by how he shifts when he says it. he’d carry you to the ends of the earth. however, the second half of his comment is drowned out by the ample rainfall. and you never do hear those words that would’ve kept you warm for eternity but you’re given the next best circumstance when he crouches closer to you. the pouches of his tactical vest, housing grenades or ammunition, dig into your chest and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the gentle way ghost drapes the large garment over your shoulders. 

ghost who takes it upon himself to secure the poncho’s hood over your head so it rests snugly under your chin. you’re still shivering, hot puffs of air escape your lips, but the function of the extra layer slowly warms you up. his gaze on you is burning, “you don’t ever have to pretend,” and then murmurs, “not with me. not ever.” the fabric does its job immediately and shields you from the onslaught of rain. that isn’t the issue he’s concerned about, however.

ghost who, when he pulls away, sucks in a shaky breath because the view that greets him will frequent his dreams. he’s certain of it. his touch accidentally dips down to the slope of your collarbones and he’s directly reminded that you’re wearing his poncho. his clothes. and it drapes over your body so alluringly. dips and presses into every curve of your body. possessiveness creeps up on him like a threatened animal, baring sharp canines and all. your prying eyes don’t aid in the situation either. raking up his exposed forearms, sifting and inquisitive about the tattoos that swirl in a manic pattern. a rare strip of his skin that graces your vision. 

ghost who awkwardly indicates how the fabric loosely hangs off your upper torso since it’s made for his broader physique, “looks ridiculous,” but he’s tugging the hood of the poncho over your eyes. can’t physically operate when he watches how your dewy lashes flutter when he allows his fingers to graze over your shoulders and pat down the cloth for wrinkles. his actions are meant to be mindless, calculative, and intended to take his mind off of you. yet, he can’t– and doesn’t wish to. desires to douse himself in the ethereal glow you embody. the wide, grateful glint in your gaze that brands him vulnerable and when you smile up at him he feels the clouds break. lets the sun warm his skin.

[iciclesses]

Is Soap the crazy ex that's stealing your stuff and Ghost won't do anything about it?

cw toxic relationship, stalking, pillow humping, panty sniffing/licking

The sheer AMOUNT of asks and comments and tags I got begging for it to be fem Soap... TBH I hadn't originally Thought that but yall convinced my ass so easy!! (As if toxic lesbianism isn't my bread and fucking butter)

Soap being sooo obsessed with you- Ghost dumped her because he loves loves LOVES seeing Soap emotionally distraught but got distracted with you soon after, he forgot to take Soap back before her last bits of sanity fled her.

She starts by finding all your social media, she swears that you're posting soft launch photos of Ghost’s hand on your thigh specifically to taunt her. Of course, all that does is rile her up more, and the logical conclusion to cope with that, of course, is to break into your flat while you're away on vacation with Ghost. Serves you right for flying to the fucking Caribbean with her man.

She considers smashing everything she can get her claws on while draped on your bed, your cat purring against Soap while she pets it mindlessly. Spares herself a little maniacal smile at the idea burning your whole fucking place down- she'd wait around a corner as you'd come home and fall to your knees in agony having lost it all.

Scratching just beneath the cats chin and cooing, "Don't worry love, I'd be sure to take good care of ye. Probably better than yer mum thas' for sure."

Ultimately, she does something stranger. She spends the entirety of your remaining vacation (two weeks, one day, and seventeen hours-- bleeding Christ, Ghost never spent more than two nights at Soap’s flat) living as you. The sweet old woman across from you that you asked to check in on your cat while you were gone? Why, she's so old her eyesight is going out. She doesn't trust her memory that much either. So when she squints up at Soap, she doesn't question anything as she passes the fraud your house key.

"Back early, eh pet?"

"Ah, no, but time does fly, doesnae?"

She wakes up every morning in your perfumed, satin sheets. She brushes her teeth with your brush, your paste- licking the bristles like a sweet until all the mint flavor was gone. Showers with all your soaps and slathers herself with your expensive oils after. Looks herself in the eyes in the mirror as she puts your lipstick on. Finds any set of clothes in your closet that fit her, unafraid to play tailor to make especially pretty items fit. Doesn't care if your shoes don't fit her, she makes them fit one way or another. Eats your oats, drinks your coffee from your unwashed mug as she looks down fondly as the cat eats the breakfast Soap put out for it. When she orders out, she puts your name down. Gets a little thrill in the cafes when they call out her tea but your name, gleefully smiling as she takes the paper cup.

Takes strange men home, and by home that still means yours, so they can fuck her like a worthless whore while spitting your name. It's pornographic when Soap throws her head back and cums with a cry when a man won't stop whining your name. She can't escape the sweet smell of your perfume.

Living as you, Soap has never felt so beautiful or put together in her life. It comes as a horrible, dizzying conclusion to Soap in the dead of night: she's not mad at you anymore. She's in love with you. It has her staggering out of bed, nearly collapsing at your hamper when she finds what she was hoping for. Falling over herself back onto your bed and mounting one of your pillows, muscular hips jerking as she rubs her bare, sopping cunt against the fabric. One hand gripping the corner of the pillow, keeping it in place and imagining it was your hair in her fist. The other hand holding a pair of your underwear to her nose. She takes a grotesquely deep sniff, eyes rolling back in her head with a guttural moan. She doesn't stop even as her hips start to buck faster, more desperate. It was then Soap’s turn to whine out your name like it were a last prayer, again and again. Strong thighs flexing as her rhythym became more erratic, her body bowing forward as she chased her orgasm. Tongue daring to dart out and tasting salt, tasting you, the new love of her life, this was the straw that finally broke Soap for good.

[sematarygirls]

Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

part one

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,

word count : 4.5k words !

a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.

However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."

Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.

"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.

"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."

Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.

Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"

Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.

He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.

He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long

At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.

He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.

The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.

Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.

That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.

Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.

As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.

You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.

You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.

You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.

He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.

After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.

He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.

The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.

His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.

The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.

He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.

He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.

Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.

But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.

It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.

He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.

The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.

He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.

He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.

"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.

"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.

"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.

"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."

"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.

"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.

You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.

He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.

In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.

When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.

"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.

"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"

"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.

His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.

The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.

"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.

"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.

"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.

"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.

Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.

"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.

He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.

The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.

He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.

"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.

"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.

your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.

"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.

He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.

His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.

"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."

He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.

"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."

Yeah, right he thought.

He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.

Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.

He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.

"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"

You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!

"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.

"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.

Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.

"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."

"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.

"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."

His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.

"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."

"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.

"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."

He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.

"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."

He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.

"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.

He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.

"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."

tags! : @fatfagsj , @mysticalhills , @simpingforthe80s , @slasherho , @pinkpanther-44 , @slaggylemon , @kyranisnotdead , @ladydragiiss ,

[atomtanned]

🌹 atomtanned's Trait-Based Chemistry

I've used @lilbabydilljr's Turn-Ons & Turn-Offs for a while now, and I love that he added in 3t2 traits when calculating chemistry. I wanted to tweak it for my game, and I finally learned how to do so. This is a heavily-modified version of his mod, so most of the credit goes to him - I just added/removed traits and changed some images and text strings.

Like any mod that involves traits, this requires @hexagonal-bipyramid's Easy Inventory Check.

This is definitely the most involved BHAV editing I've done yet, so please let me know if you find any errors, as it's a bit hard to test in game.

UPDATE: If you use Clean UI (or any other UI mod that uses Clean UI as a base) this mod will need to load after. Or you can delete the turn-on images that are included with that mod.

UPDATE 2: @cityof2morrow let me know that this mod (and I believe any other custom turnon/turnoff mods) also conflict with NickM406's No More Loading the * Family mod. Thank you!!

✨ DOWNLOAD: SFS / PATREON / MF

I've included the full list of turn-ons/turn-offs below the Read More link. The original names of Dill's Turn-Ons are in parentheses where applicable. Please note that this list uses the original TS3 trait names for clarity, but there's recommendations for changed trait names below as well.

Adventurous: 3 vacations, Adventurous, Daredevil, Sailor

Alien: Trait, skin, eyes

Animal Lover: 2 pet friends, Animal Lover, Cat Person, Dog Person, Equestrian

Artistic: Artistic, Avant Garde, Photographer's Eye, Savvy Sculptor, Flower Arranging/Pottery/Sewing badge, Arts & Crafts hobby, Creative skill

Athletic: Athletic, Equestrian, Loves to Swim, Sports/Fitness hobby, Body skill

Charismatic: Born Salesperson, Charismatic, Flirty, Irresistible, Schmoozer, Star Quality, Charisma skill

Cultured (Bookish): Avant Garde, Bookworm, Film & Literature Hobby

Daydreamer (Dumb): Absent-Minded, Neurotic, Socially Awkward, Unstable, < 2 Logic Skill

Fitness/Fatness: no change from Maxis game behavior

Foodie: Natural Cook, Cuisine hobby, Cooking skill

Indoorsy (Gamer): Bookworm, Computer Whiz, Couch Potato, Hates the Outdoors, Film & Literature Hobby, Games Hobby

Infamous (Bad Rep): Negative Reputation, Evil, Mean-Spirited

Intellectual (Smart): Bookworm, Genius, Logic Skill

Laid Back (Slacker): Couch Potato, Mooch, Slob, Personality

Mechanical: Servo, Bot Fan, Computer Whiz, Handy, Vehicle Enthusiast, Robotics Badge, Tinkering hobby, Mechanical skill

Musical: Natural Born Performer, Star Quality, Virtuoso, Music & Dance hobby, Dance skill, Creativity skill

Occult: Werewolf, Plantsim, Bigfoot, Witch, Fairy, Mermaid

Outdoorsy: Angler, Green Thumb, Loves the Outdoors, Sailor, Gardening badge, Fishing badge, Nature hobby

Outgoing (Indoorsy): Friendly, Natural Born Performer, Party Animal, Social Butterfly

Plant Lover: Eco-Friendly, Gatherer, Green Thumb, Vegetarian, Flower/Gardening badge, Plantsim, Fairy

Rebellious (Baddie): Daredevil, Inappropriate, Kleptomaniac, Party Animal, Rebellious

Reserved (Timid): Disciplined, Loner, Proper, Shy, Unflirty, Personality

Serious (Productive): Brooding, Disciplined, Frugal, No Sense of Humor, Perfectionist, Workaholic

Stylish: Avant Garde, Diva, Irresistible, Cosmetology badge, Fashion interest

Tidy (Neat Freak): Neat, Cleaning skill, Personality

Undead: Ghost, Vampire, Zombie

Unique (Magic): Avant Garde, Childish, Eccentric, Insane, Loser

Well-Liked (Good Rep): Good reputation, Friendly, Good, Good Sense of Humor

I use updated trait names/descriptions for several traits, mostly to be more positive or less ableist, and those are what I had in mind when I made the chemistry changes above. A few I made myself, so those are included in the RAR in a separate folder, and I recommend getting the ones linked below too:

Childish > Young at Heart

Commitment Issues > Noncommittal (@equinoxts2)

Evil > Devious (@equinoxts2)

Good > Kind

Insane > Erratic (@dreadpirate)

Kleptomaniac > Sticky Fingers

Loser > Underdog

Neurotic > Anxious

Unstable > Indecisive (@equinoxts2)

[kimerawrt]

DP x DC: Reincarnation

(this idea keeps bothering me so I'm launching it into the void of tumblr)

Danny is the ghost king, has been for a hundred or so years, and had been working non stop to fix the mess pariah dark made. He did but he keeps working almost like an obsession (its not thankfully)

Cause working with no pause is not healthy even if one is dead, CW and other ancients decide to give their king a forced reincarnation vacation. Their king gets a rest of his duties by living a human life while they manage the zone, cause a human life is nothing to ghosts that have existed for millennia, they can wait for their king to return.

The high king of the ghost zone is born again with a new name. His name is Bruce Wayne.

(more under the cut)

Bruce is a happy child, and a very smart one. He understand machines in some strange way and is incredible good with physics (specially astrophysics). His parents are aware of how smart he is and encourage him to learn more things, Bruce learns a lot of how to manage a business from his dad and his mom teaches his about lots of things but mostly on how to think logically and deduct the truth

For some strange reason animals seem to like him, specially cats, dogs, crows and bats. When Bruce falls into the well he is scared by the bats but calms down enough to know the bats are also scared

Bruce is a happy child, until his parents are murdered in front of him.

Bruce feels like something in him breaks at that. his emotions are so painful that its almost physical. Alfred is the only one he has left and he becomes very protective of his butler

Bruce grows up with grief in his heart. He graduates high school with the biggest honors and goes to college. He tries engineering and leaves it. He tries medicine and leaves it too. He cant move past his parents murder and he cant unseen how his beloved city seems to get worse and worse.

Bruce decides to do something to fix all of that. He now has a mission. He drops out of college, makes a well thought plan and leaves to train leaving a letter behind to Alfred cause he knows if he sees the butler he wouldnt be able to leave. He needs the training.

For a year, Bruce looks for the best experts in a lot of fighting styles, offensive and defensive, things happen and he stars training with the League of Assassins. Bruce is good and learns fast but there is something in there that makes him extremely wary and make him work very hard to not get hurt

The Lazarus Pit

Those glowing green boiling waters gave him a bad feeling. Sometimes Bruce could swear the were whispering at him, calling to him to let them give him something he ought to have. Bruce was smart and knew that would be nothing good and he didnt ask the others if they too could hear the weird waters. He was sure Ra's would kill him for it. The guy was obsessed with the thing.

Unfortunately for him, in the final test to be an assassin, Bruce got hurt enough to need to be put in the waters to not die. Ra's saw potential in him and he was not going to lose someone that good in fighting.

In the waters, Bruce was being healed but something else was going on. The Lazarus Pit was made of a mix of ectoplasm, purified waters from long lost oceans and death magic. That combination made the waters heal all organic organisms in exchange for something, for sentient beings was their sanity and for non sentients was their will

Its a good thing that the ectoplasm in it recognized their king soul and the death magic was not able to take, but it could give as well.

That day Bruce Wayne remembered his last life and knew what awaited him after he died. That night, Bruce escapes from the League and returns to Gotham.

Once home, Bruce pass some time with Alfred telling little things about his travels. Alfred gives him a look that told Bruce that the butler knew he was not telling him everything. It doesnt takes long for Bruce to tell Alfred everything, the hidden parts of his travels, the League and his memories from a previous life. He could never hide things from Alfred for long.

Alfred believes him and declares that Bruce is his guard no matter what he had been or done. Bruce is happy to have Alfred with him.

Bruce had not forgotten his mission to fix Gotham and after searching for a place to train and build things he finds the Cave under his house. For some reason it feels nostalgic, as if one could build a portal to the realm of the dead in there. Of course Bruce has no plan of doing that.

While building his gadgets to fight crime in Gotham, Bruce also builds something he saw the Fentons do before the portal. It was a machine to gather ectoplasm in a passive way. He had a suspicion that the city was not only contaminated by smog but there was also something supernatural in it.

When the first drops of glowing green ectoplasm filled the vial he had left under the machine Bruce knew he was right. As it only took some days to gather it, it was clear that there was an unusual high concentration of ecto in the city. It would be too easy to open a portal in here.

Bruce then used the gathered ecto to power up his supercomputer and many more tools. He was also working on making a car powered up with it. Of course he was not going to let the bright glowing green be seen in whatever he is making.

Alfred had a slight suspicion that besides being the ghost king, his guard might be also a mad scientist

Bruce might have also kinda tamed the colony of bats living in the cave. Making sure all of them were healthy and vaccinated was a nightmare he was not willing to repeat.

Because of working with ectoplasm, Batman always gives an uncanny feeling to the criminals and makes most of them give up in fear. Batman becomes a cryptid very soon, though the police still tries to arrest him, Bruce gets a odd nostalgic feeling at being chased with guns shooting at him

it only takes a year after Batman is out fighting crime for a ghost to show up. Luckily that ghost is just Cujo. Now Bruce has a very good guard dog to protect his house and Alfred

Thanks to Cujo Bruce discovers the city has an spirit and its kinda cursed. Its too bad he had no knowledge of what kind of magic is affecting the city. And because his current human body is not magical he can do little to help. Having Cujo chase away maligns shades seems to help some.

When the rogues appear they remind Bruce of the ghosts he fought when he was a half ghost. Though, he knows they are alive and can change for the better unlike the dead that are stuck and need something too drastic to change. Although Arkham is so corrupt that Bruce has to fight another type of fight to fix that, one that unfortunately he cant punch away

When Bruce sees how the child in the circus is left alone after witnessing his parents death, or course he would want to help. He didnt expect that Robin would join him in his night job

Then another child tries to steal his wheels and ends up adopting him, he also didnt expect the new Robin and by know he would seen the pattern

When Jason is killed by the Joker, Bruce is devastated and seeks vengeance. Batman cant kill, thats a rule he imposed to his vigilante persona. But he didnt need to be Batman to get revenge and the teachings of the League of Assassins come in handy. He knew that if he killed the Joker his soul would belong to him and he would get a better revenge when he becomes the ghost king once more.

An unknown assassin kills the Joker

Twice

There is something strange in Gotham. Something that makes the Joker come back to life a little bit more unhinged every time. Something that made Jason Todd crawl out of his grave some months after burying him

Time passes, Bruce gets more children and gets in more fights. Then Jason comes back to Gotham filled with the Pit madness. But when he tries to confront Batman, the Pit calms down in the presence of its king.

Jason is happy to not having to fight the Pit all the time, he still becomes the crime lord/anti-hero Red Hood, though his relationship with his dad is not bad after they had a talk, mostly of Bruce killing the Joker more than once already (they probably go to kill the Joker again as a bonding activity or something)

-There would be other shenanigans in between all this like:

+the kids discovering you can bring food back to like with ectoplasm and making a mess in the kitchen, everyone but Jason gets a life ban from Alfred domain

+the other heroes of the League thinking Batman has a meta power to make him appear intimidating, tho it wouldnt explain where he gets the strange technology or why some could swear a green see through puppy follows the dark night even in the watchtower

+Batman and Deadman make a strange friendship in the eyes of the other, Deadman knows the bat has the soul of his king but as he is not king now its fine to be casual, the ghost adores Cujo and pets it all the time

[sluttywoozi]

For Worse or For Better | PART 1 OF 3

Prompt: this marriage was supposed to be a scam but, but listen, 

For: @lenireads

Rating: T || Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: fake marriage au, strangers to spouses to lovers, wine and champagne drinking, food mention, swearing, flirty/sexist comments from men (unseen but mentioned), attempted unwanted touching of the waist (reader stops it and its not a huge plot point), wonwoo is oblivious, kissing, some suggestiveness but not as much as is normal for me sorryyyy, this is a full on romcom just so yall know

Reader Notes: in grad school, i say wife multiple times, girlfriend once, and cleavage once, wears a dress and heels, receives flirty/sexist comments from men (briefly mentioned), attempted unwanted touching of the waist (reader stops it and its not a huge plot point)

Wonwoo has no idea what he was thinking when he asked you to marry him.

All he knows is that late one night, after a few too many whiskeys, his boss told him he’d never get on the board if he didn��t settle down. All the execs were traditionalists, apparently, and wanted to give the position to someone who’d use it to support a family.

Wonwoo tried to argue, tried to explain that he didn’t see himself settling down, that he was the right person for the position, that cats should count as family. 

Nothing got through, and that night, Wonwoo poured his boss into a cab and left work feeling defeated. 

Mingyu called, picked up on the exhaustion in his voice, and offered to bring food over and brainstorm ideas. Now, Wonwoo doesn’t normally go to Mingyu for ideas, just out of self-preservation, but he was feeling a little desperate. 

He’d been working toward this position for five years now - starting in the mailroom and moving up step by step, with Chief Financial Officer as his end goal. It was finally in his sights, but one pesky little factor was keeping him from reaching CFO, and he knew that rat bastard Alan Connor was vying for the position too.

Connor was already engaged to a nice woman named Helen, and if Wonwoo didn’t figure something out, he’d be glaring at Alan over a celebratory dinner. And he knew the douche would request seafood, knowing full well Wonwoo hates it and would have to pick at the sides like a peasant. 

No, Wonwoo simply could not allow it.

He supposes that’s why he listened when Mingyu mentioned knowing someone trying to avoid international tuition for their Master’s Program. And he listened when Mingyu said they’d considered getting married to obtain citizenship. And he listened when Mingyu offered to put him in contact with them, saying that you could solve your problems together. 

The next thing he knew, Wonwoo was standing next to you in front of the minister, sliding a ring on your fourth finger to the tune of Mingyu’s loud weeping in the aisle behind him. 

It was awkward at first.

Wonwoo had a spare room and you were looking for a place to stay, so the logical decision was for you to move in with him.

You were like a ghost the first few weeks, staying in your room most of the time, mainly emerging to cook or get water. It was only after he got takeout for the fifth night in a row that you appeared in the kitchen, telling him that if he wouldn’t let you pay rent he could at least stop getting delivery and let you cook for him. It made sense to say yes at the time - Wonwoo was getting tired of eating nothing but restaurant food, and you would be cooking for yourself anyway, so it wouldn’t be hard to double the portion. 

That was Wonwoo’s first mistake. 

Well. 

Second, probably, after marrying you in the first place. 

Because agreeing to your proposal meant he came home to delicious smells and soft music and you, dancing in the kitchen in your pajamas, with a glass of wine in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It was so heartwrenchingly domestic that Wonwoo started wondering why he didn’t want a family in the first place. 

It got worse when his cats started liking you more than they liked him. Maybe it’s because you’re so warm, both in personality and body temperature. Maybe it’s because you were home more often than he was, doing online temp work until your citizenship went through and your tuition was adjusted. Maybe it’s because you were happy to pet them until they were tired of affection, or because you let them sleep on you, or because you spoke to them so sweetly. 

Wonwoo’s not sure, but he does know he literally felt his heart clench in his chest the first time he walked in on you cradling Mr. Mittens like a baby.

Queen Bea was wrapped around your shoulders like a fur stole, and your fingers were running up and down Mr. Mittens’ stomach, his purrs audible from the front door. He’d stopped in his tracks, eyes wide behind his glasses, breath caught in his throat, because Mr. Mittens didn’t even let Wonwoo hold him like that. 

(Mr. Mittens had been adopted to help soothe Wonwoo’s anxiety, but he discovered soon after that Mr. Mittens himself had even worse anxiety, and thus entered into their lives Queen Beatrice, his emotional support cat’s emotional support kitten, who now runs the entire household)  

Then you started school, and Wonwoo announced to the company that he’d gotten married to his long-term girlfriend. The financial advisors at your university were a bit suspicious at the sudden change in your marital status, and he had colleagues asking him left and right what you looked like and for cute photos from the vacations he’d lied about going on with you. It was starting to make him nervous, and it must have been obvious to you because you had the genius idea of staging couple photos.

You disappeared and came home one Saturday afternoon with various outfits and props, plus Mingyu in tow to act as your cameraman, and off you all went.

(Gyu’s a self-proclaimed Instagram whore so he had a lot of ideas, and knew spots all over the city that could be passed off as more exotic locales)

Wonwoo felt so stupid after for thinking it would be a safe outing, that he wouldn’t be put further at risk of falling for you with every snapshot of you kissing him on the cheek or wrapping a scarf around his neck or staring at him like you love him. You dragged him all over the city that day, your hand warm in his, Gyu trailing behind the two of you and shooting Wonwoo eyebrow wiggles every time he turned around. He felt like such a newlywed, posing for pictures with you on his arm, and it just made things all the more dangerous for him.

But it worked, the pictures got the financial aid office off your back and got him in closer with his superiors, and Wonwoo learned nothing.

(Conveniently, one of the places you’d fakecationed was where the President had honeymooned)

For posterity, Wonwoo set his favorite photo from that day as his lockscreen, and stubbornly ignored the butterflies that rose in his stomach every time he checked his phone. 

It got a bit more difficult when the board started asking why Wonwoo didn’t bring you to any company functions.

There were… a lot. 

And before, Wonwoo hadn’t felt the need nor the desire to attend the many dinners and parties and cocktail hours the board paid for, but now, he had a wife. Wonwoo had a wife. 

And Alan Connor didn’t, yet. It was time for you to start making appearances, and the excuse that you were studying for an exam or working on a paper could only pass for so long, so Wonwoo dragged you with him to the next dinner party. 

That turned out to be a great decision because not only were Connor and Helen unable to attend, but you, Wonwoo discovered, were a natural at charming old traditional dudes and their wives.

You had knowledge on seemingly every topic, and you had the whole table leaning in to hear your every word without coming off like a know it all. You fielded the flirty (and sometimes sexist) comments from the men with grace, subtly twisting their words to compliment their wives instead, leaving the women blushing and hiding smiles behind cloth napkins.

You were a revelation, honestly, and even got the board to help clean up at the end of the night without twisting any ears. It was the most fun Wonwoo had ever had at a company function, and he resolved to bring you to every possible one after. 

Which was yet another mistake, because Wonwoo had failed to consider the possibility that he’d be charmed too, by your intelligence and kindness and wit. And he was charmed, beyond belief, falling deeper with every outing and falling harder with every sleepy smile you’d send him from the passenger seat afterwards, the way you’d pad into the living room, makeup gone and hair loose, pajamas on and arms ready to snuggle. 

With Queen Bea and Mr. Mittens. Not with Wonwoo. 

Never with Wonwoo. 

It was getting harder to pretend he didn’t wish it was him you pulled into your arms at the end of the night. 

And now here Wonwoo is, staring at you from across the ballroom, his eyes tracing the line of your neck and his smirk hiding behind a champagne glass as you tilt your head back to fake laugh at his coworker.

The crystal chandelier refracts flecks of light on you, golden beams dancing on the soft skin exposed by your slip dress, and Wonwoo tries not to let his eyes linger too long on how the silk fabric drapes over your chest, glides down your body, outlining everything he gets to see but not touch.

His only consolation is that you don’t let anyone else touch either, and he smiles secretly when he sees you grab the touchy asshole’s wrist before his hand can land on your waist, flicking it away from you with disdain. Wonwoo’s first move as CFO will be convincing the board to transfer that guy to Alaska.

You turn on your stilettos to stalk toward him and Wonwoo tries to compose himself, smoothing down the lapels of his suit and straightening his tie, hoping you didn’t notice him watching the interaction.

“Hi honey,” you breathe, then hiss through teeth clenched into a smile, “I swear to all that is holy, if one more of your bastard colleagues tries to feel me up, I will be sending this pointy ass heel through their foot.” 

Wonwoo laughs, gives you explicit permission, and tries to pretend your rage doesn’t turn him on before wrapping a loose arm around your waist and guiding you over to the champagne table. God knows the both of you could use another glass. 

His eyes shift behind his glasses, trying not to follow the drop that slipped past your lips and is currently trailing down your neck, descending toward your chest rapidly. It will show up on the silk, and you’ll be annoyed he didn’t tell you, but he can’t find it in himself to say anything or to stop the drop rolling into your cleavage. You must feel the chill, because you catch it daintily with a cocktail napkin before it gets that far, and he looks away just in time to see Alan Connor storming over. 

“You’re getting the promotion, dickhead, congratu-fucking-lations,” Connor all but shouts at Wonwoo, voice barely low enough to avoid attracting attention. 

“What do you mean? How do you know?” Wonwoo can’t keep the excitement out of his voice and glances over at you only to find you still glaring at Connor for calling him a dickhead. He feels his heart swell and can’t suppress the fond smile rising on his face, feeling so lucky to have a fake-wife as protective as you. 

“You just had to get married before me, didn’t you? Do you know how long I’ve been planning this? How hard it’s been to put up with her?” his rival seethes, chest rising and falling rapidly, face reddening with rage. 

Now Wonwoo really doesn’t know what Connor’s talking about. 

“Put up with who?” You say in unison with Wonwoo and look over to him with a little smile, your eyes glittering. You sound a bit more suspicious than Wonwoo, who sounds more bewildered than anything. 

“Helen! She’s not my fucking fiancée, she’s an actress, you idiots,” he grits out with derision, “I hired her to pretend to be engaged to me so those old bastards would give me the promotion! I was willing to fake a goddamn pregnancy if it got me CFO,” Connor shouts, gesturing wildly, eyes bulging. 

Wonwoo and you are both struck silent. He can feel his heart pounding, both at the fact that he’s going to be the new Chief Financial Officer and at the fact that Connor has been faking his relationship too. Not as well as Wonwoo was, apparently, if he dislikes Helen this much. 

You barely have time to gather yourselves before another voice booms out above all the chatter stirred by Connor’s outburst. 

“Alan Connor. Thank you so much for reassuring me the board made the correct decision. I expect your letter of resignation on my desk tomorrow morning,” President Laybourne states jovially, though his eyes are burning with ire. 

Connor pales, “Bu-but sir, tomorrow’s Saturday! Can we just discuss this like civilized adults, please?”

His pleas are unsuccessful. 

Wonwoo tries not to feel smug as he watches his former enemy be escorted from the hall by security, coughing to cover the laugh attempting to escape him when Connor shoves the guard's hand off his shoulder and shouts, “I can walk by myself!”

The fear rises within him again when the president lingers, eying you and him and the way you stand so close together. Wonwoo doesn’t know when it happened but your hand is entwined with his, fingers tangled together, and your other hand is clutching at his forearm, wrinkling his suit. 

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” the president chuckles. “Get it? Because you have cats.” 

Wonwoo laughs much too loud, and he can feel your nails digging into his skin even through the wool of his jacket, telling him to tone it down. 

“Yes, we do have cats,” Wonwoo agrees breathlessly, nodding his head until his glasses start to slip down his nose and your hand appears to still his head and gently push the frames back up to rest correctly. 

President Laybourne eyes him again before continuing, “The promotion is yours, Mr. Jeon. Welcome to the Board of Directors,” he finishes with a smile and his hand primed for a shake. 

Wonwoo tries to compose himself, gently freeing his fingers from yours and wiping his hand off on his pant leg, just in case it’s gotten sweaty, before taking the other man’s hand and firmly shaking it once. Wonwoo’s hand searches for yours as soon as he lets go, probably clutching your fingers tight enough to cut off circulation. 

“You know, I always thought there was something off about Alan and Helen. They seemed…  a bit too fake, a bit too perfect,” the president shakes his head, staring into the distance. “I just didn’t feel like they loved each other, not like Marci and I do. Not like you and your wife do,” he finishes with a clap on Wonwoo’s shoulder that nearly knocks him over before saying goodnight and returning to his wife. 

“Well, now we can never get divorced,” Wonwoo jokes. 

You laugh, saying, “That’s fine with me,” under your breath, and Wonwoo laughs too, before he processes your words and starts to feel like he might die. 

“What? What did you say?” He asks, somewhat desperately, nearly out of his mind with hope. 

Your eyes grow wide, your mouth snapping shut, and you rush out in one breath, “Um, nothing, I’m gonna go see if they put out more of those spring rolls, I’ll be right back!” 

You try to spin and speed away, but Wonwoo is faster than you and catches you by the elbow gently before you can run to the snack table. 

Your eyes won’t meet his, and he ducks and moves around trying to catch your gaze before you finally turn back to him, and he begs, “No, please, tell me what you said.” 

Wonwoo knows he looks pathetic, practically panting and imploring you with his eyes to be honest, his brows pinched so close together they’re skewing his glasses, but he doesn’t care.

If you said what he thinks you said, it will change everything. 

You gnaw on the inside of your bottom lip, looking at him through the sides of your eyes, before your shoulders lose all their tension and you sigh, “I said it would be fine with me. If we never got divorced.” 

You sound defeated and small, like this is something you’ve been holding back, and Wonwoo feels all the air in his lungs exit in a whoosh before both hands fly up to cradle your face and pull you into a searing kiss, months of pent up love and adoration and fondness and lust pouring from his lips into yours. Your shoulders bunch up a bit and your hands move to cover his, and Wonwoo fears for a second that you’ll pull away, tell him that wasn’t what you meant, but you just pull him closer, kissing him back until you’re breathless too. 

Eventually, Wonwoo realizes both that you need air and that you’re at a public function hosted by the company of which he’s just been made Chief Financial Officer, and gently detaches from you. He stays close though, can’t bear to go further than a few inches, and you stare into his eyes before breathing out, “Should we go home? I think we should go home.”

Wonwoo nods before you’re done talking, and he makes straight for the exit on light feet before you veer to the side, tugging him towards his colleagues, and he’s grateful you remembered that the two of you should say your goodbyes. 

He’s as quick as he can be about it, shaking hands and accepting toasts, and when he hears you tell everyone how proud you are of him, knowing you mean it, his heart starts swelling. 

Then Wonwoo hears you say, “My husband and I should be getting home, have a great night!” and something else starts swelling too.

(His dick. Wonwoo is talking about his dick. Oh you got it? Good.)

AN: hiiii so this was a sleepover fic turned oneshot for the lovely @lenireads who was the first person to join my taglist!! thank you so much for supporting me and i hope you enjoy!! there will be a smutty part two, don't worry!!

PART TWO

ALTERNATE ENDING

taglist: @confusedbansheee @junhui-recs @burningupp-replies @heeseung-lover686 @favehoshiposts @gyvswhore @jaysawake (unable to tag) @1004luvangel @bangchanbabygirlx @Baldi-2 (i know you filled out the taglist again but i still cant tag u for some reason im so sorry) @just-here-to-read-01 @gaebestie @noryyyyyyyyy @heavenly-mobo @smalliechelle @shuabby1994 @snowgirlfallen @noraehey @swinterr @fr0g-filez

you can join my taglist here

[lovethetasteofnothing]

Halloween headcanons - TF 141 + Valeria + Farah

includes: valeria garza, farah karim, kate laswell, simon "ghost" riley, captain john price, johnny "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick

gn!reader, except for Laswell x fem!reader (argue w the wall), female pet names

warnings: horny behaviour if you squint, like very little; mentioned consumption of alcohol; mentions of violence (light); the rest is pure fluff

word count: 2.4k words, roughly 350 per character

Valeria Garza

you asked her to go Halloween shopping since you wanted to decorate

got everything you laid eyes on

you had to stop her from buying three plastic skeletons because you joked about having an army of them in your backyard as decorations

she'll use her enemies bodies instead

doesn't let you put out candy on the porch, the last thing she needs is little kids coming up to her door and being loud

buys you bags of candy instead

regrets it because you get a sugar rush after eating a whole bowl

now she has a hyperactive toddler running around, spewing out random facts she found on YouTube

would make you try Mexican candy, definitely sneaks something spicy in there if your spice tolerance isn't high

"Que pasa? Can't handle the heat, muñequita?"

you hold a grudge for the rest of the night (she'll make you forget about it when she gets you in bed dw)

refuses to dress up, will punish you if you try and get a costume on her

will fold if you ask her to have matching costumes with her, still won't do it because she's "a grown woman"

takes candid photos of you in your cute little costume tho, she'll probably make one of them her background if she figures out how to

forces her men to dress up in whatever you want just to entertain you, they don't dare complain about it

the guards at your door are now dressed in Eminem and Christina Aguilera (don't ask me why)

will force you to have a scary movie marathon with her

laughs at you when you get scared and cling to her, literally calls you a crybaby and bullies you for being a scaredy cat

will snuggle you and kiss your forehead afterwards

"it's okay, mi vida, I'll protect you"

ordered her personal chef to make you Halloween themed cookies

practically folds when she sees your reaction

you get another sugar rush and she regrets everything (worth seeing your cute face and hearing your happy squeal)

Farah Karim

will plan your matching couple costumes since june

helps you thrift/craft yours and constantly compliments how you look in it

would definitely buy a ton of candy to give out to little kids trick-or-treating

is so happy when she sees their little costumes, practically heals her inner child

she has baby fever now, you have to remind her she can't get you pregnant

is searching up adoption details at 3 am after you fall asleep

helps you decorate, would definitely let you decorate since August just to see your cute face light up

adds more decorations every time she sees something you'd like and buys it

you made her watch Halloween movies with you

she judges everyone's decisions and logic

starts spewing an escape plan 5 times better and doesn't stop until she finishes it

is confused when you flinch at the scary scenes since she had seen it coming from a mile away

not surprised when you try to make sweet treats but you pull out questionable goop out of the oven

"i told you that's too much butter"

helps (pushes you to the side and only lets you crack an egg) you make an edible batch instead

lets you decorate them, you manage to make two piping bags explode before she takes over again

she hides the cookies before you get a sugar rush and/or a tummy ache

is confused as to how you found them and got both a sugar rush and a tummy ache

scolds you like a mom before taking care of you

you fall asleep in her arms on the couch, Friday the 13th playing in the background

she tucks you in bed and kisses your forehead before going to look up how to adopt a devil child

Kate Laswell x fem!reader

isn't the biggest fan of Halloween but she'd play along with you, she just wants to see you enjoying yourself

mom!Laswell would dress up at your request so you guys can have family costumes, melts at how cute you and your kid/s look together

but if it is just you and her she'd refuse

similar to Valeria, she says she's too old to dress up in silly costumes

the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips if you decided to wear a sexy costume before she rolls her eyes

proud mom smile while she takes candids of you in your cute little outfit, handing out candy to kids

so concerned when she hears about carving pumpkins

keeps a very very sharp eye on you, she doesn't want to go to the ER on halloween

helps you out when you get stuck, groans and pushes through if she starts struggling with it too

a sigh of relief leaves her lips when you finish your arts and crafts project

"it looks scary, darling" no it doesn't, but who is she to tell you that and ruin your fun

pulls out the old decorations box from the attic and helps you buy new stuff too, makes the plan on how to decorate

brings you to the halloween themed party TF 141 is holding so you can be chaotic with them while she drinks with Price

if she doesn't feel like it she'd just stay at home with you, watching you hand out candy to kids and cracking little jokes

her heart melts

refuses to let you watch horror movies, the last time you did she had to sing you a lullaby until you fell asleep

every day for a week; she also had to buy a night light because you got a random fear of the dark afterwards

you made her check the closet too

also limits your candy intake, would steal a few from your pile every once in a while and shrug when you frowned at her

candy corn enjoyer, also licorice fan

has you wrapped up in her arms, a blanket over the both of you while she tells you scary stories/ stories from her missions instead

Simon "Ghost" Riley

doesn't need a costume, he's dressing up as himself, the mask is scary enough as is

or he'd just take off the mask and say he's dressed up as Simon Riley, you call him a party pooper

you dress up as him just because you can

doesn't know if he should be upset or flattered, he's crying in his head at how cute you look with his oversized clothes and old balaclava

that's now his favorite balaclava

swaps out his mask for a balaclava so you guys can call yourselves Ghost Team

stares at you when you carve pumpkins with his throwing knives, you're lucky you're his favorite person

pries them out of your hands before you dull the blades and he has to work with oddly shaped spoons on missions

stands concerningly still on the porch and scares little kids when they come to knock on your door (like those decorations that move yk)

lets you hand out candy and coo at the little kids while he watches from the hallway (he thinks he's sneaky, he's not)

he now too has baby fever

will not mention it but you can notice him inching closer until he stands right behind you while you give out the candy, his hand wrapped around your waist

you both finish the leftover candy while watching scary movies

he feels like a little kid again, would never fess up about it being healing for him

picks out your favorite candy and gives it to you subtly, literally just makes a little pile of it in the middle while he eats the rest

would complain about you decorating since the beginning of september

has beef with a random skeleton you put up

"he's looking at me funny, luv"

picks you up while you decorate and can't reach a spot

he'd deal with the electrical decorations for you

you make him try a pumpkin spice latte

he tries so hard to be nice about it before saying he had enough sugar for the whole year

"this is milk and sugar with an idea of what coffee is supposed to be like"

cleans up the candy wrappers after you crash, takes a sneaky picture of you sleeping with his balaclava on

takes it off gently because you'd manage to suffocate in it, before tucking you in

Captain John Price

rakes up the leaves in the yard while you decorate the outside

he has to do it again because you insist on jumping in the piles and destroying his hard work

makes you help him gather the leaves again "to teach you a lesson", you never learn

picks the leaves out of your hair and dusts you off (all smiley when he notices you were wearing his flannel jacket)

doesn't want to dress up so you say that he's already wearing a capybara costume everyday

you have to explain what a capybara is

proud dad face when he sees you wearing your costume

makes you do a twirl and takes so many pictures of you so he can keep them and look at them when on mission

helps you hand out candy to the little demons

gets upset when a kid calls him 'grandpa', you have to spend at least 15 minutes telling him that he's a dilf not that old and still very attractive

dad face™ when he sees you giggling and playing around with the little kids, needs one of his own with you now

kinda sad that his job makes it so hard for him to have a cute little family with you

falls asleep on the couch while you give out candy, probably sitting up too, a bowl of candy in his lap

plays it off by saying he was just taking a little rest, you call him 'grandpa' again to tease him

doesn't notice you had been stealing candy throughout the whole night, managing to eat about an entire bag by the end of the day

holds you in his arms and tries to contain your sugar rush

you kick him where the sun don't rise on accident and that's when he lets you get your wiggles out, poor pop

you apologize by bringing him a drink and cuddling him for the rest of the night, consistently saying "sorry" every five minutes or so

"it's alright, darlin' "

you offer to share the leftover candy with him as a peace offering, pop is now a puddle

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

definitely has a dorky costume and makes you match with him

you and him have a competition about who has the better costume, he only lets you win because you're cute

still thinks his is better but he wants cuddles tonight and can't risk it

finds dumb decorations when you go shopping with him and when you tell him to put them back he sneaks them into the basket like a little kid

you wake up with the decorations in front of your eyes at the cash register and have to pay for them now

he insists on coming up with the most horrendous decorating schemes ever known to man, you follow some of them because he's sulking atp

tries to convince you to have some kind of small explosion "for effect", you turn it down because you don't want to get sued

frowns when kids get his costume wrong, chases them (playfully ofc) around to teach them a lesson

definitely scares you with every occasion he gets, you'd literally turn the corner and he'd just jump at you

you make him watch the actually scary movies because you're a horror enthusiast

"pff i've seen worse on the field" before clinging to your arm like the scaredy cat he is

carves pumpkins with you, oddly skilled at it

he helps you when your knife gets stuck in the pumpkin and your hand hurts from trying to dislodge it

blows up his pumpkin afterwards

takes couple pics with you, the sillier the better. they're his lockscreen now, will brag about them when he goes back to work

he'd try and go trick or treating before you tell him he's too old to do that

you spend the rest of the night on the couch, finishing off the leftover candy, the both of you hyperactive

would fight you because he likes the same candy as you, he wins and steals all of it

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

you make him dress up as spider man (that one mission in MW 2019), he's on board after a bit of convincing

only accepts because you promise to be his MJ

does the spider man kiss thing with you and takes pics, definitely brags about how easy it is for him to hang like that after all of those heli crashes

does whatever TikTok trend is popular at that time with you, tries to get it perfect so you can show it off to your friends afterwards

helps you choose decorations when you're being indecisive, also buys little things he thinks you'd like to add in the meantime

he'd 100% untangle the string lights while you put them up (also keeping an eye on the chair you're standing on so you don't fall)

you do actually lose your balance but he's quick on his feet and catches you, the most cocky smirk on his lips while you're blushing and your heart is beating so fast it might explode

he'd scare you too, just so he can make fun of you. also pulls random pranks on you and hides the decorations just so you can whine and complain to him

"I told you to stop being such a ditz, love" with the most loverboy grin on his face

you send him on a last minute errand to buy candy because the two of you only got your favorite kinds and you decided to hoard them for later

compliant boy, also buys you a fall themed drink on his way back

his hand is constantly around your waist or around your shoulders while handing out candy

would ask kids what they're dressed up as and gives the ones with cool costumes extra candy

you scold him for being unfair

you both decided to do a childhood halloween movie marathon, makes you feel like you're a little kid again

trades candy with you, tries to bribe you with cuddles to give him more of yours

cuddlebug!gaz who lets you fall asleep on his lap while he watches the rest of the movie (he stole the rest of your candy, your fault for letting your guard down)

[radiance1]

You've heard of Teddy Bear Danny, but get ready fooooooor....

Stuffed cat Vlad!

How did he get infected with the stuffed toy condition? Who knows! I place my bets on an experiment with the GIW and he just woke up like that.

Anywho.

So Vlad still has the whole rich fruitloop thing going on, but mostly uses a duplicate to acquire the multiple businesses for him to reach billionaire status. He's just the stuffed cat resting in his duplicate's arms, he gets away with this because he's a billionaire and they known to be...

Eccentric.

No one expects him too actually be sentient, and he's long gotten over his love for Madeline by accepting the logic that she would never love him romantically for being a children's toy. He could use his duplicate, but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth to imagine a duplicate of himself getting it on with Madeline.

Not to mention weird.

Then one day he got an invitation to the Fenton household, in the form of a call from Madeline who finally seemed to remember his existence in what seemed like years. So of course, he goes over, fully ready to play the part of an inanimate toy and for his duplicate to explain why has a toy with him everywhere.

He didn't expect to be met with a walking Teddy Bear, and as soon as they met eyes, it seemed to just know he was like it.

Apparently, the boy was his godson of all things. But, at the very least, he could walk around without the need to pretend to be inanimate.

He's been practicing a drama walk for quiet a while now, and it's good to be appreciated by other beings than his duplicate and other (inanimate) toys.

Amity Park in itself was strange to him, strange as well as welcoming. The residents accustomed to Daniel and barely even batting an eye for him when he was walking alongside the boy, which, he will admit for his confidence and flair felt just a tad bit (read: A lot) weird.

So what was a man to do, when he finds his grandson was missing after coming back from his visit elsewhere after going into his parents' ghost portal without their knowledge?\

Find him, of course.

Causing havoc for whoever tried to hurt him was only mandatory, of course.