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spookykoolkat · 7 months

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kinktober | cam girl - j.h.

kinktober day seven - sex work

pairing: jim hopper x plus size!camgirl!reader

wc: 3.33k

summary: when you hosted a halloween raffle for your customers on your cam site, it just so happened to be that the winner was your own chief of police — jim hopper.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NOT welcome, NO AGE = BLOCKED! sex work, cam girl!reader, dirty talk, slight knifeplay, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, penetration (sex toys), squirting, mentions of fake blood

an: this is VERY late. please forgive me as i try to catch up LMFAOOOO enjoy!!!!

all reblogs, likes and comments are very appreciated! please give ur feed back!!

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JIM WAS A DIFFERENT MAN behind his uniform and badge, he was a different man when it was just him alone, his laptop, his solace.

he was a hungry man, who hadn’t felt much of a woman’s touch in a while. not since work got heavier, days got longer— he didn’t have the energy to look for a companion. to hopper, he didn’t feel like the hottest man in town.

getting older, gaining a little weight, being a little too mean to anyone he didn’t know – being alone seemed inevitable.

but he found comfort in something. it was his guilty pleasure, as people would say. but he didn’t feel guilty, because stumbling upon a certain cam girl site led him to you.

it wasn’t ideal. the idea of sharing your body for the world to watch and see was deathly terrifying. but the money. when you were in your early teens you always felt ugly, everyone made it known to you that fat was ugly. they tried to convince you to hate yourself, and they did.

but then you got older, you turned eighteen, and then you were twenty three — in a grown woman's body. but the attention you got now felt forced, only because it was new to you. you found that people would pay to watch you naked, see you play with yourself, spend hundreds just to get on the phone with you.

doing this for a while you learned how to not get discouraged, or tired of it. this week was especially long for you, sitting at a desk typing in numbers all day, but then saturday came around.

halloween. your favorite holiday, and in the spirit you were doing halloween deals on your page. you had a decent amount of following, over one thousand people who subscribed to you, paying monthly just to access your videos and photos.

you lived under the name of theevxmpg1rl, something that’d been a username since you were younger for your social medias, but described you still.

you situated yourself in front of your camera, clicking on your computer until the camera got you in full frame, sitting on your knees with a bloodied kitchen knife in your hand. you were wearing the tightest white dress that hugged your rolls and pressed your breasts so they sat firm.

the white button up dress that came just below your ass was soiled with fake blood, you even added a little nurse’s hat to try to put some sense behind the outfit. you were going for a silent hill nurse kind of vibe, just without the gauze. still, you knew and that’s all that mattered.

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jim was home alone again, laying in nothing but his boxers with his laptop directly on his lap. jim was one of th many men who joined the halloween raffle you announced at the beginning of the week, and it wasn’t until it was eleven fifteen on halloween night when he got a notification.

congratulations! you’ve been selected as the winner of theevxmpg1rl’s halloween raffle! please follow the link below to join the video chat!

jim had to read it a few times back before adjusting himself in front of the camer once he followed the link, which prompted him to a screen that does the audio and visual checks. jim clicked the camera off, a little nervous to be on chat with you and only you.

it was only two minutes when he saw you pop up on screen. smiling as you adjusted your dress lower, you looked at the familiar username that popped up in your chats a lot.

“hi there, congratulations on winning this little raffle i had going,” you said and waited to see a face on screen, instead just a black profile picture.

“uh, thank you.” jim said hesitantly, feeling himself grow half hard at the way you were dressed.

“so, you have forty minutes with just me, do you have any ideas of how you want to spend those forty minutes?” you said with seduction, hoping maybe he’d take open the camera.

“you look real pretty sittin’ like that,” he said in a low voice, the stranger’s voice booming through your laptop. you felt the bass in his voice hit straight to your core.

you blushed, smiled and looked down at your knees, “thank you.”

jim was getting more comfortable by the minute, watching you squirm and he hadn’t even shown you what he looked like. he was nervous that you’d recognize him, that is if you lived in the area, but luckily he didn’t need to show his face. he pointed the webcam downwards so that it cut off at his neck, and sat back against the headboard to show you what he knew you were wanting.

he was admiring the way your body was shaped, every roll and inch of thickness that was added on your body made his cock stiffen. there was just so much of you, all for his eyes in this moment.

“why don’t you stand up and take that little costume off, yeah?” he asked, and you obliged with a fit of butterflies in your belly.

it wasn’t until you used the kitchen knife to pry the buttons of when you saw the picture flash into an actual video feed, with a gruff man in frame but only from the neck below. you were okay with this, because when you fixed the camera you were able to see that he had is large hand in his boxers, stroking himself to you.

it spurred you on, furthering the wetness between your thighs and you managed to take the bloodied dress off, leaving you in a black lace underwear set. the blood from the dress stained your skin, but jim didn’t mind. you being in the spirit made him smile, and groan at the sight of you doing a three sixty, bending over once you show him the fullness of your ass.

“you’re fuckin’ unbelieveable,” jim breathed out, catching the authority in his voice without missing a beat.

“would you like me to take anything else off, sir?”

it startled him a bit, and his hand gripped the shaft of his girthy manhood, watching as you teased your fingers with the waistband.

“cut those fuckin’ panties off, baby,” he ordered, and like an obedient girl you were, you took the kitchen knife carefully as you stood up and turned back to face the webcam, sliding it under the fabric nd sawing through the lace. you repeated that on the other side and spread your legs a little so they could fall to the floor.

you dragged the tip of the knife up the thickness of your thighs, scrapping it against the curves in your belly, up your waist and over the cups of your bra.

“you know, i wasn’t always a fan of blades,” you trailed as you moved the blade behind your back, turning and wedging the blade under the stretchy fabric of the band, “but i feel like maybe i’m starting to like a little danger,”

you looked over your shoulder as you cut through the band and let the bra go loose, sliding off of your arms.

jim took in the shape of your back, the way it curved at the waist and how your ass looked from behind, thinking of all of the ways he’d make you beg him to stop with tears in your eyes.

“yeah, ‘s that right sweetheart?” he asked behind the screen and you turned, letting the ruined bra fall to the floor.

you stood in front of your camera that sat on your dresser, pretty halloween lights surrounding your room and coloring you red and orange.

“mhm,” you hummed in agreement, feeling your cunt pulse at the sight of him freeing his hardness from his boxers.

it was a little above average size, but the thickness of him made your mouth water. he looked heavy, almost impossible to take in your throat without feeling the searing stretch.

“fuck, you’re so thick, i love how pretty your cock looks,” you flutter, dropping the knife and pressing your tits together for him.

“you think so? think i have a pretty cock?” he asked and you nodded, loving that he could see all of you but you were still wondering who this mystery man was.

your customers had no obligation to show you their face or even turn their cameras on, but for some reason you were yearning for a face.

“i think so,” you smiled and sat on the edge of your bed that was positioned in front of the dresser.

“fuck, just like that, let me see you spread those pretty legs for me,” he groaned, his hand pumping his thickness in his palm, wet with spit.

jim was too eager, he felt, too eager to see all of you.

“what do you want me to do, sir? do you want me to play with myself?” you asked nervously, with sultry added to your voice.

“i want you to cum with me, baby, don’t cum until i tell you to, you got that?” he firmed up, moving his hand to his mouth to spit more and rub it on his angry head.

“but,” you started and he cut you off.

“it’s yes or no sweetheart,”

“yes,” you said, defeatedly.

“yes what?” he urged again, and you bit your lip as you opened your legs further to show him the slick gathering between the fat of your lips.

“yes sir,”

he watched you grab pillows from where your headboard was, and stacked them to lean on and sit with your knees to your chest.

“do you want me to use a toy?” you asked coyly.

jim thought about it, and felt his cock throb at the image.

“yes baby, grab one of your dildos, can you do that?” he asked softly, the fluttering in your stomach only growing as you smiled and reached over to your night stand.

you opened the drawer to pull out a neon pink dildo that was not nearly as thick as him, but well endowed enough for you to feel full, as full as you could feel without the real thing.

“you’re fucking pretty like that, love watching you fuck yourself dumb,” jim admitted and you bit your lip, bringing the tip of the fake cock to rub between your lips and against your clit.

jim was imagining it as himself, teasing your tight hole until he finally gets wet enough with your juices to slide inside. he wanted to be the one filling you up and watching you squeeze around his cock.

“you’re one of my top customers, sir, do you watch me a lot?” you asked in a breath as you watched him pump his swollen cock, and moved the shaft of the pink toy between your cunt lips.

watching the way your cunt sucked the toy in without even sliding inside of you made his leg twitch, moving it to bend at the knee as he stroked tighter.

“i do, baby. can’t help it when you have such a pretty, thick fuckin’ pussy,” he breathed, sitting up a bit more, “fuck, i think you’d look real nice sittin’ on my cock, get you soakin’ me,”

you saw the slight chub of his belly, the hair on his chest and the thickness of his thighs — all manly.

the hair on his arms and the thickness of his fingers wrapping around his shaft to jerk himself off, ignoring the burning desire to see the man behind the username. it was causing you to clench around nothing as you leaned back on the stack of pillows, letting on hand squeeze at your breast and the other guiding the tip of the toy to stretch your hole.

“that’s it, honey, let me see how much you can take,” he said gruffly, a low rasp in his voice that added to the powerful aura. he seemed like he was used to being in charge, getting what he wanted, knowing how to get what he wants.

all you wanted right now was to be what he wanted.

“mmphf, fuck, i-,” you gasped as you sunk the toy further into your cunt, “-haven’t fucked in a long time,”

jim groaned at that, watching how your cunt stretched around the toy the further you welcomed it inside of you.

“aw,” he cooed and you heard the slick rhythm of his hand stroking his cock, “i bet you wished you did meet ups yeah? i don’t see how anyone wouldn’t wanna fuck that pretty face,”

“fuck, fuck so good, ‘s fuckin’ good,” you moaned and bucked your hips as you tried to copy the same pace jim was going.

when he realized this, he felt his balls tighten and let out a throaty moan.

“oh fuck, you need this cock that bad? tell me sweet girl, tell me you need me,”

you did what he asked for. you weren’t going to say no.

“yes! yes sir! please, i need you, need your thick fucking cock inside me,” you cried as you threw your head back, the juices around your toy gathering to tell the entire neighborhood how wet a random man on the internent had you.

“oh baby, you sound so fucking pretty, so needy,” he taunted and you could practically hear the smile on his words.

“cus’ i need you, need your dick,” you cried as you pushed the toy deep inside you, hitting a spot that sent twinges to your clit.

“think about you suckin’ me off, honey, all the time, any time i can,” he admitted through the computer and your body responded to his.

you watched as his sloppy fist pumped around his cock, throbbing for you as you continued your pace with your dildo. you pulled the cock all the way out of your hole, just to prod the tip between your pussy lips and fuck your hole with just the tip.

“fuck,” you cried, feeling an unusual build up in your tummy, “want your cock, want it so bad,”

jim was watching you fuck yourself, the way you fucked your hole with just the head of the fake cock and watched you play with your nipples. it was too much, so much to take in from you and he groaned loudly, watching as you started to squirm.

“fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” you chanted and jim tsked.

“not yet baby, what did i say?” he ordered and you whined, moving your other hand down to rub firm circles with two fingers on your clit.

“doing so good, come on, talk to me princess.” he asked and you cried, clearing your throat.

“please, let me cum on your cock, let me soak it please, i wanna cum for you, just you, wanna show you how much i need your cock,” you moaned, imagining his thickness filling you up until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“so fucking big, so thick, gonna stretch me out so much sir,” you added and he grunted, his fist massaging at his head as he thrusts into his palm.

“fuck, fuck baby go on, cum for me, let me see you cum on that cock,” he strained as he neared his own orgasm, watching the desperation in your eyes turn to glee.

your fingers rubbed firmer, faster and you moved the dildo to slowly slide back inside of you and when you felt the stretch again — you let out a throaty cry when you felt the tension of your release break.

“oh my ff-” you tried, “cumming, ‘m cumming,”

something inside you snapped, and the tension in your lower belly spread through your body as chills ran over and you heard something sort of a faucet running.

but it was just you, making a mess over your bed and letting this man watch as you squirted for him on the dildo. your legs shook and trembled as heat flooded your face, eyes rolling back and letting your body convulse at his doing.

“oh fuck,” he grunted, thrusting one last time into his fist before he lets spurts of cum hit his belly, wincing with every stroke and calling just for you. watching you had been one of the best things he’s seen in a while, and only made the need to have you even stronger.

like that’d ever happen.

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stepping into the new holiday season took a lot out of you, especially with going to the supermarket for christma decorations a little towards the middle of november.

you went in for a couple of things only, not focusing on the rest of the world just about what you need. of course, until you got so distracted you back up into a tall, full figure.

you turn in the aisle, scanning up the frame you bumped into and meeting with a beige police uniform, and up to the unshaven face of jim hopper. of course you didn’t know who he was, but he knew who you were. you were too entranced by the roundness of his face and the mustache that sat on his top lip, until he raised his eyebrow at you.

“oh! i’m so sorry, sir, i just wasn’t paying attention,” you blushed and his throat tightened at the formal name you gave him.

there was no way you’d know it was him that night, the one that watched you squirt for him. so he needed to play it cool, especially finally seeing you in person. full, luscious and gorgeous — clothes hugging every curve that he’d have memorized.

“it’s alright honey, honest mistake, yeah?” he says, his frame towering over you.

“yeah,” you said shyly and looked down the aisle under his gaze, “honest mistake.” he was gorgeous, sculpted like a man who could protect you if need be. he made you nervous and it wasn’t just because he was the chief. according to his badge, at least.

“are ya new in town?” he asked, moving his hat off of his head and into his cart he had.

“sort of, didn’t even really know they had an actual police department here.” you said, half joking. it was a small town, and seemed a little run down.

jim just chuckled, and shook his finger at you, “you’re funny,”

you just blushed, putting the christmas lights you held in your hands in the basket. he watched your every movement, watched you turn and face him again while you inhaled and exhaled. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“well, i better get going. have a good day, sir.” you smiled, pushing your basket down the aisle as he watched you leave.

“have a good day, honey. let me know if you ever need anything.”

you just smiled and thanked him, turning back and walking to turn into another aisle. he itched to see you again, needing to hear your voice in person again.

that night you got a message from the same user who gave you butterflies in your stomach, and who watched you strip bare for him on halloween night.

should be careful who you bump into these days, honey. didn’t want to say anything in person so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but you’re even prettier in person. you know where to drop by if you ever need some help.

you hiccuped, instantly typing back to the man in uniform.

that was you? you’re the chief?

he responded swiftly, quickly.

does that make you uncomfortable?

you grinned at the text box, moving your fingers around the keyboard.

no actually, i might have to drop by the station now that i think about it. need a little bit of extra help from one of the guys there, you wouldn’t know anyone who could be of service do you?

i do, actually. he’s the chief, just call this number here and he’ll get to you as soon as possible, baby.

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley

still doing my taglist, and i'll be adding it under every kinktober fic from now on! let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore!

271 notes · View notes

leclercsredhelmet · 7 days

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Guilty as Sin ⚡︎ Max Verstappen

A/N: Hi! Back again with another one, this time it’s Max and guilty as sin! This is a little longer than the rest and it has a little crossover with the NFL, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Arguing, a little smut. Joe being a jerk (no hate to Joe, he’s one of my faves but I needed a not so good boyfriend for this blurb)

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

Sitting cross-legged on the outdoor couch with your computer on the table you looked out at the Miami skyline with a smile. You and your boyfriend Joe had rented an apartment for the next week, Formula One was in town and you were trying to score some last-minute tickets. F1 Experiences had sent you a promotion email, the prices looked good and there were still tickets left, the offer was tempting and you were considering splurging on it. Thankfully, your job allowed you to pay for expenses such as these. You were about to buy the tickets when you received a message on Instagram. Upon opening it, you gasped and jumped off the couch screaming for Joe.

Joe ran out onto the balcony, looking bewildered, “Joe, Joe, Joe, oh my god, oh my god!” You shouted while slapping his chest. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes. Unable to talk you showed him your screen, “Baby, this is huge! You better say yes!” he said hugging your waist. Grinning you typed a reply, “We’re going to the Miami Grand Prix!” You shouted and Joe whooped.

Panic set in and you started to pace around the living room, “I have nothing good to wear to a paddock club, this is going to be the end of me!” you exclaimed, “Baby, baby, hey, look at me” Joe said grabbing your shoulders to steady you. “We’re a short walk from the Brickell City Center let’s get changed and we’ll find something for you to wear,” he said. Smiling you kissed his cheek and ran out to get your laptop and into the bedroom, hastily grabbing some clothes and heading towards the bathroom.

Joe was laughing behind you and you heard him shuffle around the room. Things between you two had been rocky lately, he hadn’t had the best season with his calf injury and the wrist injury which forced him to sit out the remainder of the season. But things between you had shifted before all this, you had done your best to push the possibility that your relationship with Joe might be close to running its course. Dating him since the LSU days hadn’t been easy all the time, but you made it work throughout college, your internship in New York during his first-ever season in the NFL with the Bengals. Your careers had tested your relationship but you pulled through, and you were up to a few weeks convinced he was the man you wanted to marry. However, lately, this was not looking as clear as it had, Joe was distant with you most days.

Quality time between you was dwindling, you weren’t going out for dinner like you used to and had stopped doing many things together but you pushed the thoughts away for this week. Just one perfect week with Joe in Miami, and everything will be back on track. Your apartment was a short walk from the Brickell City Center mall so you made haste and got there in no time. A few hours later you walked out hand in hand with Joe who carried your bags full of outfits. You had insisted on paying for your own, but he refused and paid, which was why you had decided to buy him an outfit and some sunglasses you knew he had been on the hunt for.

With the bags on the bed, you started to plan your outfits and left them in the closet, Red Bull Racing had been in contact with you and your passes for the week would arrive tomorrow. They were nice enough to give you both access to media day and would send you a media pass with your journalist credentials. You figured you’d make the most out of the opportunity and take notes to report on the race week.

Excitement poured out of you and Joe took note of it, his stomach sank when he realized he hadn’t seen you like this in a while. Dawning on him, he started to see where he might’ve been faulty as of late and made a mental note to make this week the best and hopefully get back on track with you. Unbeknownst to Joe, he hadn’t stretched far back enough to realize he had been pulling away for months. You were sitting in the back of the car that was taking you both to the circuit.

Joe was scrolling on his phone and had barely paid attention to you, for most of the car ride, your driver followed the signs for the entrances assigned to the paddock club members and soon enough he had parked. “Joe we’re here!” you exclaimed and he snapped out of his daze to smile at you, he tipped the driver and informed him that he would call two hours in advance before leaving. With a smile, you thanked the driver and took Joe’s hand. “Hey Joey, do you think it would be weird if I ask Lewis for a picture with Red Bull passes on? You asked. “Don’t think so” he replied dryly. “Is everything okay?” you asked softly. “Yeah, why?” he asked. “Nothing, you were just a little dry, never mind,” you said quickly. Putting an arm around you, you walked and followed the signs for the paddock entrance and security greeted you.

There was a lane to get to the paddock so you walked through it and the entrance looked a thousand times bigger in your eyes due to your excitement. Scanning your passes you grinned as you stepped into the paddock. Joe reached for your hand and you walked past the photographers. A smile was plastered on your face and it got wider when you stepped into the football, More photographers called out to you upon seeing you two enter. The official f1 cameras were filming your entrance and you did a little wave, while Joe smiled.

The cameras left you alone and you spotted the Red Bull hospitality, you pointed it out to Joe and walked towards it. Some members of the team’s staff were outside and they greeted you, the social media admin who had contacted you, introduced herself and welcomed you inside. “Max and Checo should come by soon, help yourself to any drinks if you want,” she said. Smiling and thanking her, you turned to Joe. “I never thought I’d see the inside of the paddock, much less meet Max,” you said. “Cool, hey some of the guys are here,” he said not acknowledging what you had said. Getting slightly angry, you steeled yourself by counting backward from five. “Okay, can it wait until after?” you asked trying to hide as much of your annoyance as possible.

Was this man serious right now?

Figures approached you and you noticed it was Max and Checo, poking Joe his attention turned to the approaching drivers. “Hey, nice to see you guys!” Checo said. Joe extended his hand and shook Checo’s you did the same but greeted him in Spanish. Max was greeting Joe and he turned to you, “You must be y/n, it’s great you finally meet you. I’ve read your articles and they’re great!” Max said politely. “The pleasure is mine trust me, it’s great to know you liked them,” you replied politely. “Please you write the most competent pieces I’ve read, they should hire you in F1 already, you’d ask non-bullshit questions in the press conferences and interviews,” he said candidly and you laughed.

“She’s trying not to fangirl so hard but she goes insane on race weekends, she’s also raving about you,” Joe said and you blushed. “He’s exaggerating, don’t pay him much attention” you added and Joe laughed. Max smiled, “Seems like we’re all fans of each other,” he said to you both. You complimented Checo’s helmet and expressed your support while Max and Joe chatted and the admins took pictures of them. When you were done talking the admins wanted pictures with the four of you and you with Max while Joe took some with Checo.

Part of going out with Joe to sporting events included this, but you didn’t mind it as a sports journalist because this was pretty much what happened to you, when you attended events for work. “Some of the fins guys are here, I’m going to meet with them for a bit,” Joe said. “Okay, just don’t leave me alone all day please” you whispered. Without replying he left and you were alone with Max since Checo had media duties to fulfill.

Max had been done with his, and he decided to chat with you while showing you the paddock. Joe still wasn’t back and it was starting to bug you, “Do you have any projects lined up?” Max asked. “NFL-related not really, but I’m covering a little bit of hockey and the formulas,” you said with a smile. “Starting with us?” Max asked with a grin, “Yeah, and F1 academy, I have been writing a separate space on my blog for it and I’m excited to see the girls race!” You enthusiastically said. “I’ll get you a pass to the garages next door,” Max offered. “Oh that would be so great, thank you,” you said gratefully. “Do you need one for Joe?” he asked. “No, he seems to be busy at the moment” you replied in a serious tone.

“Ah I see, it’s a little rocky?” he asked. “You could say that, is it that noticeable?” you asked. “Not really, it is to me because I’ve been there before,” he replied before changing the topic which you were grateful for. Max had cracked a few jokes and your cheeks were red from the sun and from laughing, as he promised he would, a pass was handed to you and you thanked him. Slipping the purple lanyard on you exited the F1 paddock and made your way to the F1 garages, making sure your journalist credentials were visible.

The reigning world champion couldn't help but look at your retreating figure, desperately he’d wanted to ask for your number but the more rational side of him was holding him back. She is off-limits, even for me. He could tell your relationship seemed rocky but he would settle for just friends, of course, that all depended on you being open to it. But you were so beautiful, and it pissed him off that your boyfriend was nowhere near you. If I was him, I would be worshipping the ground you walked on.

Charles Leclerc approached him outside of the hospitality before doing the little drill the Miami Dolphins had prepared for them. Noticing his sudden halt in conversation he followed Max’s gaze to see it trained on you and smiled knowingly. “Ah, she’s Burrow’s girlfriend right?” he asked and Max nodded, his speech coming back to him slowly. “Y-yeah, they’re Red Bull’s guests” he replied and Charles smiled. “You like her,” he whispered. “She has a boyfriend,” Max replied quickly. “Yet you didn’t deny it,” he said before patting his shoulder and leaving.

Spotting Braxton you greeted him, smiling he beckoned you over and you greeted his teammates. “Tell me have you seen my boyfriend around? He left me stranded” you whispered. Braxton looked at you apologetically, “He was with us in the paddock club, I think he’s still there” he said. “Okay, thanks Braxton,” you said and didn’t move. Max went over to you and introduced you to the other drivers.

Heading back to the Red Bull hospitality you stood on the balcony and watched the drivers go through the drill, it was funny to see them a little out of their element. Joe had miraculously deigned to appear and he put his arm around you, you leaned into his touch and talked in hush tones, still, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Days had passed after the Grand Prix and you guys were at Joe’s beach house in California, things hadn’t changed and you were feeling like it was time to call it quits. To distract yourself you had gone out to surf and had just come back, sitting on the porch with your feet on the railing you closed your eyes and listened to the ocean breeze. Joe was calling out to you and hadn’t heard him until now. “What?” you called back walking into the house. “Did you go to the beach and didn’t tell me?” he asked irritated. “Joe I told you I was going out for a surf, you didn’t reply because you were busy doing god knows what and I left” you replied crossing your arms. “Well, do you want to go back?” he asked. “No Joe, I’m tired,” you said flatly. “Whatever, I’m going out for a run,” he said with a sigh and turned around. The door slamming shut made you jump and you noticed a package addressed to you. Grabbing it you went upstairs and tossed it on your bed, before showering.

Sitting down you opened it and noticed it was a RedBull PR package with a note addressed to you from Max. With a smile you read the note and opened the box, taking a picture of it you posted it on social media and tagged Max and the team, thanking them. Feeling tired you set the box aside and decided to take a nap. Waking up in cold sweat you let out a sigh and ran your hands through your hair. You were feeling guilty for your dream, why am I dreaming of someone else and not Joe?

Shaking your head you decided to splash cold water on your face, and once again the image flashed in your brain. Max’s eyes were raking your body at an agonizingly slow pace, his hands were firm as they held you by the waist before he leaned in to give you the most teasing of kisses that left you wanting more. This is bad, stop thinking about him. Why hadn’t Joe touched me like this in months? Am I a bad girlfriend for thinking this? There’s no such as bad thoughts, only your actions talk

Joe had come back from his run and you had decided you needed to talk, “We need to talk” you said sternly. “About what?” Joe asked, “Us,” you said swallowing the lump in your throat. “I need you to be fucking honest Joe, no bullshit. Do you not want to be with me anymore?” you asked. Joe looked at you surprised, “Baby, why are you asking this shit?” he asked. “Answer the question please,” you said as your voice cracked a little and you cursed yourself. “I- y-yes,” he replied but he was hesitant and that told you all you needed to know. “Tell me, when was the last time we felt like a couple and not to people drifting away?” you responded. “Last week, we went out,” he said not answering the question.

“That was the Miami Grand Prix, and you left me alone the entire week Joe! Do you know what that felt like? It felt fucking awful” you said fighting back a sob. “It was just a slip-up, baby. We’ll get back on track. I promise” he said while reaching for you and his gaze hardened a little, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. “Joe, have you even realized that we’ve been pulling apart for months?” “I don’t think it’s been months, you’re being dramatic!” he said raising his voice a little. Scoffing you turned around and headed up the stairs, blinking tears away. Joe was behind you and followed you into the bedroom, you were blindly throwing things in your suitcases. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “Packing,” you replied dryly. “We can work this out, we can go to couples therapy, I can be better. Don’t fucking do this” he pleaded. “Joe I’m tired! I’m tired of feeling like a fly on the wall, you haven’t treated me like your girlfriend in months and I thought that you needed space after recovering and I gave you space but you just feel a million miles apart and I can’t do this!” You exclaimed as you looked at him with tears spilling out of your eyes. His eyes landed on the box, “Is it because of him?” he asked.

You scoffed, “No it’s because of you, I’m done Joe,” you said tossing the box in your last suitcase and zipping it up. Grabbing them you refused his help and went downstairs. “You know what sucks most, I thought you were the man I wanted to marry one day,” you said and his head dropped. “For what it’s worth, I had the best years of my life with and I will always wish you well,” you said softly. “Please, I’ll retrace my steps, and make it up to you” he pleaded. “Retrace them but we’re done Joe,” you said as you looked at him one last time. “Can we at least be friends?” he begged. You shook your head, “It would hurt us too much, goodbye Joe” you said as you opened the door. You had called no cab but you took your luggage to the end of the sidewalk and called for one.

Hanging up you couldn’t help but break into a sob, when the cab got there you asked to go to the airport and booked a ticket to the first flight out to France. This was how you had ended up in Nice hours later. Joe hadn’t made an effort to call you and that made you feel worse. Your relationship had run its course and you wanted to forget everything and just erase years worth of memories and feelings. Little did you know that something as silly as an Instagram story of your hotel room views would catch Max’s attention.

Messaging Max you told him you were in Nice and he asked if you had any plans, to which you replied you didn’t. You considered him your friend and decided to accept his proposition to meet him in Monaco. Looking like less of a mess, you put one of your favorite dresses on and got ready, taking the train you met him out of the station. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing!” You exclaimed and faked a smile, he didn’t buy it. “You called it quits with Joe?” he asked. Not bothering to deny you nodded, “Come with me to the races, I’ll get you a pass. As your friend, I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said. “Max, I can’t,” you said. “Why?” he asked. “Because-” you said stopping in your tracks. “I have no place to stay, I packed all my life into suitcases what do I do with that? I can’t just jet-set and leave!” you said. “Stay with me then,” he said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Noticing your hesitation he turned to you, “Please, I have a spare room. No one lives with me, I can help you get your things and when you don’t feel like coming with me you can stay. Just until you sort everything out” he said. Giving in you nodded.

Determined to help lift your spirits Max took you out to eat and for a walk around the principality. Afterwards, he drove to Nice and helped get your things and settle into his apartment. Weeks had passed and you had taken Max up on the offer to attend races with him as his friend. Certain gossip accounts had gotten wind of your split with Joe and your presence in the races alongside the Dutchman.

People had started to speculate but you ignored them, your friendship with Max had evolved and feelings had been developing but you never acted on them. You liked Max, and you were certain that he felt the same way. Tonight was your last night in Singapore, your hotel room was dark and you couldn’t sleep. Reaching for your phone you looked at the clock, it was 2:25 am. Sighing you sat up and headed towards the bathroom to splash water on your face. Debating knocking on Max’s door you pondered the option for a few minutes. Hesitant steps carried you next door, knocking once the door immediately swung up, revealing a shirtless Max. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice showing no hint of sleep. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious, “I can’t sleep,” you said, “Me neither” he replied. Leading you in he closed the door behind him and locked it.

Taking a seat on his bed, you fiddled with the hem of your oversized shirt, Max looked at you before taking a seat next to you, and motioning you to move closer to him. Both of you sat facing each other. Oh how badly he wanted to admit you had been plaguing his dreams, he didn’t mind it but he just wished they were no longer dreams. Forcing the thoughts away he talked to you in a soft voice, minutes had passed and he couldn’t help but look at your lips. You noticed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck it,” his voice was hoarse and he reached out to you, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your hands felt around in the darkness and found their way to his neck, you kissed him back and you pulled away breathless. His blue orbs were taking you in, a chill ran up your spine, this was starting to look like a familiar scene. Max initiated the second kiss and it was much rougher than the first, his hands were holding tightly onto your waist and you shifted to sit on his lap, you bit his lip and he groaned. Pulling apart his eyes slowly raked your body, his fingers slipped under your shirt and his touch sent shivers up your body.

“Max, Max” you said pulling apart and panting, he called out your name, and god, it felt so fucking right. “Don’t stop” you said in a low voice, he chuckled, “Only if you ask me to, Schat”. What if it feels like a vow, we’ll both uphold somehow? His kisses `never faltered, he was holding you ever so delicately, your back met his pillows, and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes raked over you, his hands hadn’t left your waist, reaching up you pulled him by the neck and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Breaking away he started kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, you sighed and he smiled while leaving wet kisses down your chest. You could tell he was testing the waters and you simply wanted him to dive in, “M-Max” you said. “I’m taking my time Schatz,” he said and you mentally cursed him. Bringing him up you kissed him and couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips when his hand found your thigh.

Max groaned, he had heard you once already and he was counting on hearing you again. Clothing was on the floor, his hand spread your legs apart and he looked at you, “Schatz” he breathed out. “Yes,” you replied, with a soft pant. That was all the reassurance he needed. It had been so long since you had felt like this and you welcomed every feeling, without holding back. Everything built up like waves and came crashing down. “What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh?”

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

#max verstappen #max verstappen x female reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #joe burrow

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 2 months

Text

Suspicious.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader.

Gaz and you were friends during your childhood and teenage years, such a surprise when you find him out of the building where you're working.

PT2

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, maybe is not good enough but I had the idea stuck in my head.

You were late, just at the worst time your car decided to not work, the bus was late too, the subway was having electric problems, you were running through the town, you changed your clothes in a public bathroom close to the building where you will be working.

You're wearing black, you have a gun and pocket knives, some tissues and more, just in case something goes wrong, suddenly, someone collided with you.

- Fuck! Look where you're going asshole!

You started to pick your notebooks, laptop, ipad, cellphone and all the stuff you had on your hands without looking at the stranger who decided to make your day more difficult.

- Y/N?

That voice...

You looked up, is he...? No, there's no way but... Those brown eyes, that black hair, that smile... He kneeled down to help you without leaving eye contact, you're still shocked, you could expect anyone else but him.

- Garrick? Kyle Garrick?

- Yeah! The legend.

You laughed, both stood up and he handed you all the rest of your things.

- Oh my god! Years without seeing or knowing something about you man!

- I Know, I was going to say the same!

- Look at you! Oh lord! You look amazing, you look pretty much better than I remember.

- I always was attractive, I'm just like the Wine, Y/n

- ha-ha! If you say so!

- Where you were going?

You realized you were going somewhere and you were going late.

- holy shit! I have to... Oh... I actually... This is where I was going.

You pointed at the building in front of you, Kyle looked at you and then the building.

- Do you work here?

- Ah... Yeah! I... I do, home office but today they asked me to come, it's an emergency or something.

- What's your job here Y/n?

- oh, you know, I always was a nerd, computers, operative system, security and technologies.

- oh right! I remember my grades at the end of school were magically fixed, thanks to you!

- Yes, my first time hacking something, the system at school, was really funny!

You were so happy to see Kyle, you and him were good friends when you were young, you remember the afternoons after school wasting time at the park, or the lake, parties with your brother's friends, Kyle and you always causing troubles, always side by side, life was good.

- What about you Garrick, I lost your steps after our last summer...

- I joined the army. I shouldn't say it loud but I'm working right now actually

- Ohh, well...You always loved the adrenaline...

- I know, it made me well, I'm working all the time and sometimes I want to take a break but... I love my job, I can't complain.

-Same, ahhh I... I still remember that last summer, you know?

You're not lying, you remember every moment of that last summer, you remember the last time you saw him, things stayed in the air, you wanted to talk about what happened But welcome back to reality, your smartwatch alarm remembered that you needed to run.

- Fuck, fuck... Sorry, Kyle has been a nice moment and I would love to keep talking but I have to go, ok? I'll see you... Around I hope!

- For sure...

You didn't give him time to finish, you ran to the building, nobody paid attention to you, no one noticed the cameras stopped to work, and no one asked you to show your credentials. You took the elevator to the penultimate floor. As soon as you arrived you walked directly to the first door, "Security systems", as you supposed, there's a numeric keypad block.

Easy, you already have that information, you hacked a part of the system. «5-8-9-6-2-7» «access granted».

You took a seat and started to work, all the information from this company was now in your hands inside an external hard drive. You made a call.

- Sir, I have the information you requested, send the money and my transport.

- Well done darling, the transport is on the way. Go to the building's roof, you will find a parachute, use it... Oh! And don't forget to do the other thing, a car will be waiting for you near to the park.

You've been doing this for years, you're a hacker, working in a private company "les hiboux" (the owls). You don't care about the information You're taking, you only care about the payment.

You never had troubles, but, as today you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, troubles were on the way.

Kyle was actually saying the truth, he was working, him and the boys were trying to find the person who had been hacking and selling important information, he was still waiting for someone suspicious.

- Gaz. Who was that?

- Just an old friend Soap. Focus.

- Well, your friend works in that building, casually works with the security...

- I know, I heard it too Ghost.

-And Is the only one who got inside since we arrived.

- Yes, so what?

- Gaz... What if your friend is the person we're trying to capture?

The Captain's question woke Up Kyle's curiosity, he started to repeat inside his head every second of the conversation, you weren't wearing clothes for a job In a company like that, you brought a lot of things with you, every pocket in your clothes looked suspiciously full of stuff, you didn't know where exactly the building was located, you weren't specific about your job in the place. Everything was suspicious.

Kyle finally realized, you're definitely suspicious, he ran inside the building.

- Kyle! Wait!

- Cap, you're right, we have to capture now!

Each one started to work on his part of the plan, Kyle was on the elevator, when he arrived at the floor he only saw you coming out of the room, you had a bottle on your hand, he knew perfectly what it was, a Molotov.

- Y/N Put that thing down, now!

You looked at him, panicked, you really weren't expecting Kyle pointing at you with a gun. You threw the Molotov away, specifically to the security room and ran, Kyle was running behind you.

- Captain, evacuate everybody! There's fire!

- Copy! Soap, come with me, Ghost do you have visibility?

- on the way!

- Good visibility, the target it's running to the roof, I request permission to shoot.

- Do it if it's necessary, Gaz, go for the target, we don't want to hurt or kill it!

- Copy!

You ran and opened the door, you locked it with the first object you saw close to you, and as your boss promised, a parachute was waiting for you, you were putting it on you when you heard someone trying to open the door, you were distracted looking at the door when a Bullet passed close enough to your cheek, cutting you.

«Y/N! Open the fuckin' door, they will shoot you, I can protect you, open it, let's talk about this! For the old times!»

- I'm so sorry Kyle, this is my Job and is more important than what happened in the past.

Bullets were running in every direction, they didn't want to hurt you, but you know if you stay and don't complete the task, you will be dead before the sunset.

«Y/N! Please! We can fix this! Do it, for that last summer kiss!»

You were now ready to jump... Kyle opened the door, now he's in front of you, you stopped, for a second that memory of your kiss popped up, a thousand of "what if" invaded you, you considered to stay, two other men appeared behind Kyle. No, you will not lose your head just for an old summer love, the sirens of the fire truck, alarms, and the ringtone of your phone brought you back.

- Bye, Kyle Garrick.

You simply jumped, Kyle ran trying to catch you, but the only thing he did, was see your parachute opening and taking you away. Price and Soap appeared at his side, now all of them are watching you landing not so far, you're running trying to lose yourself in the traffic.

- won't go further, let's go guys!

Kyle didn't even know how he went back to the streets, one second he was on the roof and the next one he was running on the streets looking for you, the world was spinning faster, how could you? Kyle was feeling sick, his friend from childhood and teenage years was now a criminal, his first love, was now escaping from him.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #x yn #fanfiction #x reader #141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod #reader insert #john soap mctavish #captain price #simon ghost riley #kyle x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x y/n #gaz x gn!reader #gaz x you

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astraltrickster · 2 months

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I feel there's a disconnect between trends in kids' and teenagers' interests and skills as analyzed and reported by teachers and other people who work with kids and teenagers extensively, how those reports are read by adults who DON'T work with kids and teenagers other than perhaps their own, and how those reports are interpreted by the kids and teenagers.

I can't help but suspect that this is a major factor at the core of the perennial problem of generational disconnect.

For example, let's look at the declining rate of casual PC usage and basic PC skills.

What a teacher might say: "I teach a high school class using xyz computer software and it's worrying me that over the last several years, out of every class, there have been at least a small handful of students who don't know how folders work, or how to use a physical keyboard, or who send cell phone photos of their screens as "screenshots", and hell, some don't even know the difference between a laptop and a desktop computer. This wasn't nearly as common ~10 years ago. The system for the years before mine used to teach more of the basics, and now I'm seeing evidence that just expecting people to get it on their own isn't working, and that's a problem."

The reality that this statement is about: A decline from a basic computer literacy rate of (just as an example, absolutely not to be taken as an objective fact) 90% to 80% and even sharper at intermediate to advanced levels, starting with the most underprivileged, in a world where PC usage is still critical for a huge chunk of the professional world, is a VERY bad sign. It represents technical knowledge becoming more and more of a class divider, in a way that has the potential to snowball. We're still in early stages, and it's FAR from being the fault of the ~10% of kids who would have been taught computer basics if they'd been born 10-15 years prior, but it IS real and it shows that we need to make formal classes in PC basics more normal and accessible again, instead of just expecting people to pick it up by osmosis, because that experiment isn't working.

What entirely too many adults hear: Generations Z and alpha are stupid spoiled idiots about technology who don't know computer, they only know how to app store, TikTok, selfie, eat hot chip, and lie! Which is their own fault, obviously. If they just paid attention to their teachers instead of Instagram and Twitter everything would be fine!

What teenagers hear: Man, adults just loooove to look at the teenagers who are doing the worst and make shit up about the downfall of society or whatever, meanwhile all my friends and I know how to use a computer, the only problem is a bunch of old fuddy-duddies talking shit about how back in their day they had to walk 15 miles in the snow uphill both ways just to go to the bathroom, AGAIN.

Because it's hard to see the a pattern like this, especially in fairly early stages, as a matter of statistics. Humans kind of suck at intuiting statistics. We want hard and fast rules. As far as our brains often see it, anything with a probability over 50% is a certainty; anything under 50% is an impossibility. If you're in a room of 10 people, and you ask who doesn't know the basics of a computer, it won't make much difference whether one person raises their hand, or two - either way, if you throw a paper ball at a random person, you're far more likely to hit someone who can install a program than someone who can't. Meanwhile, if you ask all the people in several of those 10-person groups who raised their hands to go to another room, and you see twice as many people as 5 years ago, it's easy to think that NO ONE knows how to use a computer anymore. Whichever side you look at, it's black and white. Either nearly everyone knows how to use a computer, or nearly no one does; it's black and white. Easy numbers. Comfortable.

So far distorted from the realities that created the numbers that it might as well be from an alien planet.

And thus, not only do a lot of people end up not seeing the problem for what it is, but people just end up having pointless fights over which of those black-and-white views is correct, because according to immediate intuitive monkey-brain, it CAN'T be somewhere in the middle. It's very hard to truly, deeply recognize the fact that "most young people still have basic computer literacy" and "the number of young people who DON'T have the skills they need to compete in a tech-oriented professional world is increasing at an alarming rate" can both be true statements at the same time.

Now let's just ask ourselves, how many OTHER trends and shifts across generations have we fallen into the trap of talking about like this?

#tech #the digital native myth #tag later #serious tag

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niawritesbs · 1 year

Text

A Daddy

John "Soap" MacTavish x Poc Fem! Reader During a meeting, Ghost realizes Soap is missing. He goes looking for him and see's him having a facetime call on a computer with a beautiful woman and a newborn baby on the other side of the screen.

Notes: Ngl to yall. I think this one isn't my best but imma still post it cause I want to. Hope it isn't that bad of a read, suggestions are welcomed anytime!!

"We're missing someone, aren't we? He's usually the first one here to these meetings." Gaz sat in the chair furthest from the front but directly next to Price. He wasn't that worried since neither Price nor Laswell was concerned about the missing scot, but he was curious as to where he could be.

Someone who was more curious about where the Mohawk was was Ghost. Although he'd rather die than ever utter this out loud, Soap's gruffly accent is what he looks forward to in the mornings. It lets him know that he's made it to another day and somewhat grounds him and keeps him in tune with reality when (although it's rare) he feels himself slipping. So seeing him missing was the first thing he noticed when he was the last to walk into the room and Laswell immediately started talking.

"He's been excused for the time being. He can be filled in by Price later when he's finished with his business." Laswell continued with the information she had after clearing the air about the missing Sargeant. Ghost didn't dwell on it any longer and paid attention to the meeting until it finished 30 minutes later.

After being dismissed, they all went their separate ways doing god knows what. Ghost had set off to stroll around making sure he had nothing else to do before he retired to his room to go over the files he and the rest were given in the meeting.

Simon wasn't one to wander the base. Not that he hadn't engraved every part of it into his memory out of instinct, but, he wasn't one to explore unless necessary. His small walk turned into him mindlessly looking for his Scottish partner in crime, and while it is out of character for him to be so curious as to where Soap was, he couldn't help but look.

Ghost eventually walked past a conference room and he knew from the room number he was getting close to the visitation room. That room was for family calls or special access visitations from family members if you had high enough clearance. As he was walking, he heard the missing man's ruff Scottish voice cooing in some sort of baby talk. Ghost walked up to the open room door silently and stood there seeing Soap sitting in front of a laptop cooing softly at it, he tilted his head to see what had him that way. A dog maybe?

'That sounds like something Johnny would do.'

When Ghost tilted his head, he was surprised to see a newborn baby and a beautiful woman with dark skin on the other side of the screen. A big, tired smile was on the woman's face as she held the baby in her arm. Soap leaned his head on his folded arms on the table with the softest look ghost had ever seen. His eyes held such love and devotion that if she were in front of him he'd be worshiping her from head to toe.

"I see someone is excited to be a daddy. You know he looks just like you if you squint. He's the spitting image of you John it's crazy" The pretty lady on the other side of the screen lightly giggled at the end of her sentence, her accent sounding foreign. A chuckle soon came from Soap's lips as he stared at his newborn son in his lover's arms.

"If anything he looks more like you to me. Well either that or it's the laptop's shitty ass quality and he really does look like me." There was a pause before he sighed heavily. "I can't wait to see you, baby, you and little Bailey" Soap's voice held a sadness Ghost hadn't heard before. It was like he was a different man completely. Not that Soap wasn't an expressive man, quite the opposite actually, but, he only ever showed anger, cheekiness, joy, and other neutral emotions. Never quite showing complete sadness and happiness.

Ghost felt that he was invading something private by listening and watching. Something intimate and special it almost flustered him, so he turned from the door frame and started walking ahead, only for his name to be called by the man he just left in the room. He turned to see Soap by the door waving him over to come back. It looks like the woman on the screen saw Ghost and mentioned it to him. Now that he was back, Soap tugged Ghost back into the room with a broad smile. He was gonna be able to show his beloved his best mate on the force and he was ecstatic.

"Darlin, This is Ghost, he's a part of my team. He's the scary brute around here scaring the new recruits" A gruff exhale came from the said man. He was being introduced to someone without his consent but then again, it was his fault for seeking out the Scot in the first place.

Ghost stared into the screen at the curious woman. He had to say she was quite stunning. Dark skin, frizzy hair (he's guessing from the baby in her arms, the messy hair is from childbirth), and small eyebags that showed her fatigue just a bit. His eyes zoomed in on the tiny baby laying in the woman's arms. They had blue eyes and their facial features for a newborn looked scarily identical to their father's.

"The champ looks like me, aye? She says he does and I believe it. The MacTavish genes in me run strong." Soap bosted proudly with a grin seeing his sweetheart smile at his words. Ghost nodded and looked at Soap with Amusement but something he couldn't explain. Simon felt joy for Soap. As chipper as the Scot was, there were times he'd see him at his lowest, like he was ready to rid of it all, to take the coward's way out. Alas, he would always bounce back in the next few hours to bug the hell out of ghost and talk his ear off but he knew how the lass would. Soap having another bundle of joy to keep him grounded and to keep him motivated to stay alive was something Ghost was happy about.

Soon, it was time for Soap's lover to go. She was tired evidently so Soap said his I love you's and his goodbye's solemnly and the call ended. Soap sighed and stood up, walking out of the room, toe-in-toe with Ghost, walking the hall, and heading back to the barracks.

"You know, I didn't think you would have a lover much less a child. From your bad jokes, I assumed your pickup lines were just as bad." An offended gasp came from Soap's mouth upon hearing the Brit's words.

"I'll have you know she loves my pickup lines thank you. They're part of my charm she says." Ghost could hear the adoring tone of his voice at the end. He really loved his girlfriend and vowed hed marry her soon as he is able to leave. Ghost chuckled and they walked in comfortable silence.

Soap became a daddy that day, and Ghost was happy for him.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod mw 2 #cod mw 2022 #cod mwii #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #modern warfare 2 #babydaddy soap

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earth616variant · 1 year

Text

language! | s.r

summary | As someone who came in a much different era, you are still adjusting to the new practices. Including, hearing curse words everywhere in the compound.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 1388

genres | humor/crack, very small fluff, time travel au

note | another drabble for the send-off. i really enjoyed writing this. let me know your thoughts! reblogs and feedback are appreciated.

main masterlist | series masterlist

It was a late Thursday night. You were in the living room, reading a novel you bought with Steve and Wanda days ago. Peter was also in the room. He was sitting on the carpeted ground next to the center table in front of you, doing some kind of presentation for his class and you don’t really understand it. It has something to do with his accessible, small computer. A laptop! You remembered he called it that.

It was pretty peaceful and quiet. The only sound that can be heard is the kid’s fingers typing on the keyboard and the soft, cool blows of the air conditioner. You were finishing a chapter of this book when you heard a…

“Oh, fuck.”

Instantly, you turned your head up from the book. Peter paused too. You two turned your heads in the direction of where that curse came from. That’s when you see the culprit.

“Steve!”

The First Avenger, who’s holding a tray of drinks, looked up at you.His eyebrows furrowed together as he asked, “What?”

“Can you please watch your language? There is a kid in here.” you scolded him in a very serious and offended tone.

Both Steve and Peter moved their eyes around the room, looking for the kid you were pertaining to.

“What kid?” he replied, both curious and defensive.

You lift a finger, pointing to the other person in the room, “Peter’s here. Adults don’t curse around minors. Apologize to him.”

Hearing that, both Peter’s eyebrows raised.

“What? No– Dr. Y/N, it’s fine–”

“No, that was inappropriate.”

Considering your era, Steve definitely understands your slight disappointment with the language he just used. It was less socially acceptable in the 40s to swear. He remembered scolding Tony before because of the same thing when he was still adjusting to this century. So Steve sighed,

“I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s no problem, Cap.” Peter stutters, surprised that the older man really apologized.

You only nodded at that, “Anyways, I’m going to my room. Good night, boys.”

You were yawning as you walked away Steve stood there dumbfoundedly with the tray of drinks. Peter just watched him, waiting for him to do something. The drinks were hot chocolate that he was supposed to offer to you and the younger hero. But since you left already, Steve looked back at Peter.

“Hot choco?”

“Strawberries?”

“No, thanks.”

That morning, you seemed a bit distant to Steve and everyone can notice it. No one knows why but Peter has an idea although he thought it was not a big deal. You also thought that maybe it’s not a big deal. But you had a hard time sleeping last night, thinking about everything that changed at this time. Swearing and a lot more things seem normal here. You wondered if you can adapt to it as you felt like an alien wandering in this new world you’re in. Admittedly, you thought that maybe you overreacted with Steve’s language. You felt guilty as you were the one who was new here, yet you still apply whatever customs you have from the 40s to him. You don’t know if you should apologize or what.

Steve quietly placed a cup of coffee next to your bowl. But you were too occupied in your head, you didn’t notice it. You stood to get yourself a glass of orange juice and Steve never looked so dejected. The other people watched silently until Tony snapped his fingers, making everyone look at him.

“Okay, what is going on?”

He was moving his eyes from you to Steve when he asked that. Your eyebrow raised while Steve stayed quiet.

The younger Stark continued, “Y/N is clearly ignoring you and you are obviously trying to be extra nice to her this morning. What happened?”

“I’m not ignoring him!” you unintentionally exclaimed.

Natasha smirked. Sam snickers with Peter while you hear Bucky chuckle lowly, shaking his head. You turned your head to Steve, “Am I?”

You were really unaware. That’s when you see his expression that says a lot: dispirited and unsure. Suddenly, another voice spoke.

“Cap cursed last night.”

Everyone turned their heads to Peter who was munching on the cookies you made the other night. It was stocked in the refrigerator.

“What?” Bruce asked since he thought he heard something else. Just like everyone in the room.

But Steve already justified himself, “It was accidental. I stubbed my toe on the corner of the counter while I was trying to do something nice.”

“What did he say? What did he say?” Tony grinned like a kid. He loved to have something new to tease Steve with.

“Peter, no,” Steve told him sternly. You were still standing with your orange juice, crossing your arm. At this point, you don’t care if he would say it since it seems normal here.

“Peter, yes.”

It was Sam who added more fuel to the fire, earning a glare from Steve. The youngest stood there in the spotlight as everyone waited for him to answer. He finished putting the Tupperware of cookies in his backpack before replying,

“He dropped the f-bomb.”

A series of laughs and amused oh’s followed. You just stood there, confused, while Steve looked down at his oatmeal.

“I’m going to school. Bye, everyone. Thanks for the cookies, doc!” Peter walked out, waving his hand.

Breakfast went on with Tony picking on Steve. You later learned from Natasha that their leader used to have a habit of telling everyone language if they say a swear word. Somehow, the weight on your shoulder lightened when you heard that story.

“So, does that means you hate dirty talks?” Tony brought up with his pancakes almost done. Pepper failed to shush him as she didn’t expect to hear that.

You tilted your head quizically, “Dirty… talks? What is that?”

Dirty talks? What does it mean? Is it a form of teasing? Bullying?

Steve stood up from his seat, putting his bowl on the sink. “You know what? It’s early in the morning. Let’s not talk about that.”

You followed behind him, placing yours too. “What? Why? What does it mean, Steve?”

His jaw clenched and you can see his cheeks slowly showing a tint of pink. He meets your eyes for a quick second before looking away. Everyone in the room is silent too. Don’t they know what it means? You wondered.

“Yeah, Cap. Tell Dr. Y/N about it.” Tony spoke with what seemed like a mocking tone.

“Shut up, Stark.”

Steve held your hand and dragged you away from the kitchen while you remained baffled.

Just days later, you were baking another batch of cookies with Peter waiting on the kitchen counter as your personal food taster. The other are out for their own mission, including Steve, while a few were taking a rest in their respective rooms. The Spider-kid, you heard it is what Sam calls him, was grinning and clapping on his seat like a seal as you two heard the sound of the oven.

You were too excited that you only reached for one oven mitten, thinking you can get the hot baking tray with a single hand. But just when one of the cookies looks like it’s going to slide out of the tray, you instinctively pushed it back with your bare finger. Immediately feeling the burn on your skin, you dropped the tray— thankfully on the kitchen island.

“Fuckshit!” you exclaimed before you put that finger in your lips as if that would help.

You were still recovering from the shock and hurt when you notices Peter’s surprised stare and blushed cheeks. As you realized what just happened, you slowly put down your fingers. The boy can see your jaw gaping as your eyes widened before hiding your face in your hands. He was having a blast, holding his stomach as he laughed.

“You–”

Before he can finish any sentence he was going to say, you shushed him off.

“You heard nothing, kid!” you spoke as you point your index finger at him. You cannot stop yourself from smiling as you tell him that. “I’ll continue feeding you my baked goods if you say heard nothing.”

Peter grinned, stifling a laugh, “I… heard nothing, Doctor Y/N.”

That’s how an accomplice was born.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @sabrinaselina55 @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @evanswife1918 @saranghaey @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #1940s steve #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers time travel au #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #the send off steve rogers

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lostelfwriting · 1 year

Text

Runaway prince Morpheus

But make it modern era

You know how your grandma sometimes gets those spammy, scammy, scummy emails from an “african prince” who is trying to escape the corrupt regime and needs to deposit his wealth into your bank account?

Technophobe Hob who has no idea what spam mail or a scam is.

Btw this is 100 % crack fiction.

History teacher Hob who only got a phone eight yers ago. His students taught him how to use an email when they grew bored of handing in everything through mail or pigeon (seriously, man, mailing your essays???) during covid. So he’s had a small laptop and only used it to access his email for a few years. But then someone reccomends him a couple websites, and what do you mean I don’t need to wait for the new journal to get pronted and mail?! I can read it on the internet a week before it reaches me?!

So, Hob finally starts exploring the internet. But oops, nobody taught him internet safety. The first couple spam emials that he gets are suspicious attractive women that for some reason are interested in him. He brushes it off, kindly turns each of the bots down. Then he starts winning phones. He turns those down too, he is quite happy with his “brick”, as his students call it.

Then he gets an email from a runaway prince from a country that he’s sure doesn’t have a monarchy anymore. He replies with great suspicion. “Morpheus” (Greek name but that guy claims to come from the North and he’s pale as paper) responds with a damn essay that uncovers a huge conspiracy behind his country’s government, and the conclusion is that there still is monarchy that matters but some people don’t aggree with it and want true democracy, including him, so that puts target on his back both from the inside (government) and outside (people who want true democracy and only see him as yet another symptom of the problem). He’s not safe in the country.

Hob, sunshine that he is, offers to help. Sends Morpheus all the info that he asks for, his bank account info, credit card info, his address. He sends Morpheus a lot of money that the prince needs to pay some fees, but he promises he’ll return it.

For three weeks, nothing happens. Hob scours the internet for news of some Nordic prince mysteriously dying or disappearing, but there is nothing. No signs of a huge government conspiracy either, but then it wouldn’t be a conspiracy. Finally, he asks some of his students who are better with technology if they can help him find a person he’s been talking to. He explains how they met. The students gently inform him that he’s been scammed and tell him how to report it.

Hob feels pretty dumb and decides to return to technology-free life. Says goodbye to the moeny that he’ll never see again, if his students are right.

Then one day, a knock on his door in the middle of the night. He opens, because the person sounds quite frantic and Hob will never learn, and the person pushes past him into his apartment and slams the door. And wouldn’t you know it, the man looks exactly like Morpheus from those emails. He looks haunted and pretty beat up, but he’s real.

Hob gets pulled into a complicated web of conspiracies as he helps the prince take the government apart from far away. His apartment turns into a secret hacker den as Morpheus buys more and more computers and... computer things... and apparently, he’s insisting that he can hack the government apart. Morpheus spends day and night slowing down his alleged pursuers and publicising dirt that he has on his own country, and one day, Hob actually sees on the news that several of the country’s politicians end up arrested. His students share memes about the situation with him to cheer him up, thinking he’s still bummed out about the money (that Morpheus has returned tenfold) but in reality he’s freaking out because that proves that this is real.

There are definitely some action scenes. Someone trailing Hob as he’s leaving work, and he leads them into a dark alley and beats them up Greco-Roman wrestling style, because he really enjoyed that hobby at school and he was damn good and nobody ever expects it of him.

Eventually, the whole country is in riot and the current government has to flee and people take over, and some of them demand Morpheus takes over, since he obviously care about democracy, but Morpheus is like nah, I’m comfy here, no thank you. Some feelings have developed between Hob and Morpheus during the few months they spend together with Hob practically force-feeding worcaholic Morpheus and supplying him with a gallon of coffee every day, and Morpheus making sure Hob is alright with being a small but significant part of the greatest scandal in modern history.

And bed-sharing! There is bed-sharing!

#dreamling #crack

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chaoscheebs · 7 days

Text

It's Midnight, Cinderella, chapter 4

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Chapter 4) - (Fic Tag)

--------

Unfortunately, once again, Yugi did, in fact, stall on actually talking to someone that night. It wasn’t entirely his fault this time, he swore! His grandfather needed help at the store when he got in and it slipped his mind! He totally didn’t lose to the anxiety built up from dealing with years and years of absolute bullshit in his personal life that is the background noise of his life! He absolutely wasn’t deliberately staying away from LINE or anything! Really!

… oh, who was Yugi fooling; it certainly wasn’t himself, that was for damned sure. Tonight, he promised himself. Tonight he would pick up the phone or go on LINE or whatever and pick someone to talk to. Hanasaki, maybe? He at least didn’t have any sort of personal grudge against Kaiba that he knew of, so he could be neutral on this…

Whatever, he’ll work it out when he gets there, he thought. At least his Tuesday was going better than yesterday, or at least was quieter. No news is good news, he guessed.

--------

This is hell, Seto Kaiba thought. If hell actually existed, this was it.

Even through remotely accessing the computers of the company to find the guest list, he still had no luck in acquiring it. His best guess it it was probably on some secretary’s laptop that’s conveniently shut off and therefore offline and aggravatingly unavailable. So here he was, relying solely on his memory and waiting for people to reply to their damned e-mails. So many people and so many damned e-mails. Worse yet were the people he knew wouldn’t answer their e-mails over something “trivial”, so he had to call them. As if he didn’t have to deal with enough phone calls before this whole mess.

When Seto finally finds this man, he is going to have some words with him about this bullshit too.

From the couch, Mokuba tore his eyes away from his phone, looked at his brother, and sighed. Seto knew exactly what he was thinking and said, “For the tenth time, I’m absolutely certain it wasn’t just Yugi. Yugi’s far too goody-goody to do any of this.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Mokuba replied, rolling his eyes. “I was just wondering why you’re so hung up on a dude that ditched you, is all.”

“Why?” Seto hesitated, trying to piece together his thoughts. “I suppose… I suppose it was because there was a sincerity behind his words, a certain openness that doesn’t quite mesh with the sudden departure.” He picked up his currently cold cup of coffee, but didn’t drink; instead, he gazed down at its contents. “Something seems off about all of this, and I don’t like it.”

“So you have to get to the bottom of this.”

“So I have to get to the bottom of this.”

“I see… Have you considered talking to Yugi?” Mokuba asked. Before Seto could affirm once again the man was not, in fact, Yugi, Mokuba raised both his hands to stop him. “What I mean is, Yugi makes indie games on the side, right? Maybe he can help you track the guy down, or at least the guy the guy came in with.”

Setp paused, thinking for a moment. “… that’s not a bad idea. I’ll take it into consideration if my current leads turn up nothing.”

“Or you could just ask him while you’re waiting for replies; not like you have anything else to do at the moment,” Mokuba pressed.

Really, why is Mokuba so fixated on Yugi lately, Seto wondered. Maybe it was because Yugi seemed stressed out about something yesterday and he’s worried? Mokuba’s too kind for his own good sometimes, at least when it comes to Yugi. Mokuba could have worse friends than Yugi and his weird gang of nerds, though, Seto supposed.

“Just gonna ignore that, huh?”

“I’m not desperate enough to get help from Yugi just yet.”

Another loud sigh and roll of Mokuba’s eyes. “Then I’ll just text him.”

“There’s no reason to get him involved in all this just yet,” Seto said, perhaps a little more forcefully than he intended. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about how on edge Yugi seemed yesterday and was saying this to avoid adding more stress to whatever’s going on in that man’s life. Really. This decision was entirely rational and not influenced by weak emotions.

Mokuba grinned at him. “Why, are you worried about him~?”

“O-of course not!” Seto said. “Why would I care about him beyond what he can do for the company?”

“Because he’s the closest thing you have to a friend~?”

“Do I look like a man who needs friends?” Seto said, scowling.

“Desperately.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Seto huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. He could feel the burning sensation in his cheeks and ears betraying him already, but he was telling the truth, damn it.

“Mm-hm,” said Mokuba, unimpressed. He tapped a couple things on his phone and added, “By the way, that order should reach him by tomorrow.”

A wave of the mental equivalent of keysmashing washed over Seto, forcing him to bolt up out of his chair. “How do you—”

“Shared account, remember? Something something ‘you are not buying anything unsupervised after the snake thing’ or whatever,” Mokuba said dismissively, with a wave of his hand.

“A snake is a living creature and you can’t just try to sneak one under my nose because you thought it’d be cool—”

“I’m going to be 18 soon, you won’t be able to stop me—”

“And who is going to take care of it while you’re out of the house? The maids will revolt—“

And as such, the conversation was thoroughly derailed, any thought of Yugi long gone in the wind.

--------

The mystery man was absolutely Yugi.

Short and thin? Check. Blond? Until at least through Friday, check; it was a charity stream goal that Yugi and Jounouchi would be blond twinsies for a while. Makes horror games? Definitely check. In a one-sided rivalry with a man who uses dragon cards? The checkmark on that could be seen from the KC space station.

And if his brother’s description wasn’t enough to make Mokuba suspicious, Yugi’s behavior yesterday clinched it. Pretty much anyone who had the same information Mokuba had could connect the dots between that description and Yugi’s anxious fit.

Unfortunately, however, his brother was not “most people”. Mokuba should be surprised Seto had such a rose-colored view of Yugi after everything, but he really, really wasn’t. That man still had troubles to this day telling apart what was Yugi and what was Yugi’s other self and it was kind of depressing to watch, to be perfectly honest. It was also painfully apparent straight-up telling Seto it was definitely Yugi was not getting through to him, either.

So, he had to play this carefully. Make a suggestion or two to his brother here, get one or more of Yugi’s friends involved there… Just slowly build up pressure on Yugi, because if Seto wasn’t going to believe his adorable, charming little brother, the only real option is to drag a confession out of Yugi. And if that doesn’t convince Seto, well… Mokuba will just figure out where to go from there, then.

His big brother doesn’t latch onto just anyone, after all. Mokuba isn’t letting this opportunity to expand Seto’s world even a little go if he can help it.

Anyway, speaking of involving Yugi’s friends, Mokuba had some texts to fire off. Best case scenario, maybe Mokuba will get to see an exciting stream tonight. Worst case, this was one of the people Yugi can’t push away or lie to, so shit will still get done, and that’s the most important thing here.

He was really, really hoping for the exciting stream thing, though.

--------

“Sorry, slept like shit, can’t do the stream with you tonight, I won’t be entertaining. :(”

That was how the first message Jounouchi’s had from Yugi in days went. He read it over again, frowning. He had messaged Yugi back asking if he was all right, but all he got in response was an “I’ll be OK, I just need some rest,” followed by a sticker of Dark Magician Girl cheerfully giving a thumbs up.

Jounouchi laid back on the floor, looking up at his phone as he jumped over to a different set of DMs. Man, he really should get some more furniture—it wasn’t like he didn’t have enough now stashed away to afford it—but the nagging thought of “what if you NEED that money for something important?!?” refused to go away, even when he was in a better place now. It sucked, really, but what’cha gonna do?

Anyway, furniture wasn’t important right now. It was worrying enough that Yugi went radio silent and still wasn’t exactly chatty—he always goes Clam Mode when he’s upset over something and doesn’t want to bother anyone—but then he got these other messages from Mokuba saying the guy was anxious enough that even the kid’s shithead brother noticed.

Seto-fuckin’-Kaiba. Showing concern for someone that ain’t his brother. What in the actual fuck was going on in Yugi’s life right now?

He was about ten seconds from calling off the stream tonight and going over to check on Yugi when his phone rang all of a sudden, startling him and causing him to drop the phone on his face. He recovered quickly enough, however, and scrambled to pick up the phone, revealing a familiar number on the screen. Huh, maybe this’ll get me some answers, he thought. With a flick of his thumb, he took the call. “Yo, gramps, how ya doin’?”

--------

Back at home, Yugi, face down on his pillow, not exactly asleep but not quite awake, with a certain mask of deep, royal blue staring down at him from the headboard of the bed, remained blissfully ignorant of the gears set into motion out of sight.

At least until tomorrow, anyway.

#yugioh #rivalshipping #yugi muto #seto kaiba #my fic #it's midnight cinderella #GUESS WHO FINALLY KICKED INTO EDITING MODE AND GOT THIS INTO POSTING SHAPE #spoiler: it me #the next chapter is progressing well #enjoy the moritfiying ordeal of being known boys

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digital-corruption · 1 year

Text

Send in the Clowns

⚠ Trigger warning: Not suitable for people with coulrophobia (fear of clowns)

"Everyone's here?" MC asked as she walked into the small meeting room of the Mystery Investigators, Inc. office in Colville.

In the middle of the room sat a second-hand, oval wooden table with mismatching wooden chairs around it. Jake sat at the far end working at his laptop, ignoring Jessy and Cleo who had been gossiping all the latest happenings in Duskwood. Dan sat at the other end opposite Jake. While he seemed to be in quiet contemplation, the truth was he was still a bit hungover from the night before from one too many drinks at the Aurora.

"Well, everyone that was available," Jessy corrected. "Thomas and Hannah are still on their road trip and Lilly got stuck doing double shifts. She says, 'Hello', and wishes she could join us."

"Ah well, we'll take what we can get," MC shrugged and put a couple of large paper shopping bags down in the middle of the table.

"Hey, you've got me. What more do you need?" Dan boasted. "Honestly you could just send the rest of them home."

"Oh so you know how to bypass biometric locks?" Jake mocked.

"I am sure I can work it out. I graduated from the MacGyver School of Resourcefulness," Dan joked. "Just need some tape and some powder and boom! Instant fingerprint!"

"That might work on locks from the 80s, but this is the 21st century," Jake rolled his eyes. "And what would you do if it had an eye scanner?"

"The ol' knock-out-a-guard-and-hold-his-eye-open-in-front-of-the-scanner trick, duh!" Dan beamed.

"Wait, we're knocking out guards?" Cleo questioned.

"No, we are not!" MC exclaimed. "This is a nonviolent operation!"

"Ugh, fine," Dan leaned back in his seat with disappointment. "I suppose Jake can come then."

Cleo sighed with relief, "Ok, good. You know I don't mind a little B & E, but I have my limits."

"Well if everything goes according to my plan, you won't have to worry about the guards at all," MC began. "Our target is Jorge Santos. You may have seen his name on the signs around the city. He's a real estate agent here and we believe he's been scamming some of his clients, but the only way we can prove that is with access to his home computer."

"Is this legal?" Cleo questioned.

"Cleo, the man is an asshole," Dan pointed out.

"Yes, but if they steal information and give it to the police, it can't be used against him, right?" Cleo asked.

"If our goal was to get him arrested, sure. There are other ways to ruin him though," Jake interrupted.

"Our client knows proving a crime actually happened will be difficult with the way these scams are done. However, leaking the right information will heavily damage his image and his name, especially with high profile clients. The goal is to get the truth out in the open," MC explained.

"Ok, let's do it," Dan nodded. "What’s the plan?"

"Well, getting into Santos' house- mansion really, won't be easy. Due to his connections with the mob, his place is guarded. However, it also turns out Santos has an 8 year-old son who turns 9 on Monday. And Santos is going all out on his birthday party. His son wants a circus and has requested clowns," MC smiled with confidence.

"Wait, you mean…" Cleo trailed off, looking around the room.

"Jake as a clown!?" Dan burst out laughing. "This is the best news I've heard all year!"

"You too, numbskull," Jake glared from his laptop.

"Huh, what?" Dan's face twisted.

"Yes, I've ordered five costumes," MC motioned to the bags on the table.

"I think it will be fun," Jessy grinned.

"I don't know the first thing about being a clown," Cleo grimaced. "I could bake the pies though."

"Ah, just make it up as you go!" Jessy encouraged. "That's the great thing about clowns, right? Do whatever feels fun and silly!"

"I think it involves a lot more than that," Cleo frowned.

"Yeah, like a sense of humour," Dan mocked, earning him three eye rolls and a kick to his shin.

"Anyway, how do you propose to sneak around as clowns?" Cleo inquired. "I can't imagine clown costumes will provide much stealth."

"Not with squeaky shoes," Jessy humoured.

"But you need squeaky shoes if you're trying to appear authentic," Dan pointed out, already completely on board. "And a big, red noggin' for him."

Jake narrowed his eyes, "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'll be taking photos. Never know when I might need some quality blackmail material," Dan joked.

"Just remember I will have equally as much blackmail on you, if not more," Jake glared.

"Why would you have more?" Dan raised his eyebrow confused.

"Well, while you three are performing on stage, Jake and I will be breaking into the target's home office," MC shrugged.

"Excuse me!?" Cleo said abruptly. "While we're what!?"

"It'll be fine," Jessy insisted. "We'll spray water at each other and throw pies. The kids will love it."

"I also rented one of those tiny cars. Make Dan go into it and drive around all scrunched up. The kids will love it," MC assured them.

"I am pretty sure I had a nightmare once about this," Cleo sighed. "Ah screw it. It's just for a little while."

"So you’re in?" MC questioned.

"Yes, I'm in," Cleo waved her hand. "But I'm in charge of baking the pies. If I am going to have a pie smushed in my face, it must at least taste halfway decent!"

MC glanced at Jessy, her secretary. "Oh of course you know I'm in, boss," she giggled.

MC looked over to Dan, "Seeing Jake with a rainbow wig, ugly ass clothes and oversized red shoes is more than enough payment for me."

"You too, Dan," Jake reminded him. "You’re going to be wearing the same damn thing!"

"Yes, but you're going to be dressed as a clown," Dan reiterated. "And that will never get old."

"Ok, it's currently 10 o'clock. The party starts at 4. Let's get to it!" MC declared.

"Ah! I need to buy ingredients! Tell me you have pie pans!" Cleo jumped out of her chair.

"This is a private investigator's office. Why on earth would we have pie pans?" Jake pointed out.

"You at least have an oven?" Cleo frowned.

"A microwave oven?" MC shrugged.

"It’s ok, we can use my apartment," Jessy interrupted. "I have everything there."

"So I guess I'll just sit here and take a nap for the next five and a half hours?" Dan leaned back and stretched out his legs.

"Oh, no, you’re coming with us!" Cleo objected. "We can practise between batches."

MC nodded, "I'll go over the plans again. Jake you… you do Jake things."

Jake smiled, "I'll check all the programs."

"Great, let's reconvene here in four hours for costume changes, hair and makeup," MC announced.

"What? How long does is it take you to paint your faces white?" Dan asked astonished.

"It could take us that long just to get your feet into the big shoes," Jessy joked.

Six hours later, the Mystery Investigators, Inc. van rolled up to the security gate in front of the Santos mansion. Its occupants were in full costume and face paint. Their fake flowers pinned to their chest were full of water, ready to spray. Their pies were fresh and ready to be thrown. Dan sat in the back, practising his juggling every time the van stopped. Jake worked on his laptop doing Jake things. The three girls sat in the front with MC driving. A clown car had been loaded into the back, making the van heavier than usual.

"Company name?" The security guard asked, peering through the driver side window.

"Funky Feet. We're one of the hired acts for the party today," MC responded casually.

The guard checked his clipboard to confirm, "Ok, drive up and park on the left side by the servant's entrance."

"Servant's entrance?" Cleo questioned under her breath. "This guy makes that much money off real estate?"

MC nodded and closed the window as the gate opened, then drove up the driveway cautiously.

"You do when you're selling entire city blocks," Jessy pointed out.

"And work for the mob. Don't forget that mob part! No one makes that much money legally anymore," Dan spoke up.

"Now, now, it's time to get into character," said MC as she parked beside a catering van. "We're happy, jovial clowns, remember?"

"Yeah, happy, remember?" Dan nudged Jake with one of his bowling pins. "No sad clowns here."

Under his white face paint, thick red painted lips, blue stars over his eyes, bright green wig and big red nose, Jake glared at Dan. He reached his hand up and squeaked his nose.

"I can be happy," he said flatly.

"Could you at least say that with a smile?" Dan burst out laughing.

Jake faked a smile, but somehow it was even creepier.

"Stop! Stop! You're making it worse! Sweet Jesus, don't give this man any red balloons!" Dan cried out. "Every child is going to have nightmares tonight, I guarantee it!"

"Would you two stop?" MC frowned. "Come on, unload the little car."

Dan bounced up to his feet with two squeaks of his oversized red shoes as Jessy and Cleo went round the back to open the rear van doors. Jake begrudgingly shoved his laptop away in his backpack before getting up to help push the clown car out of the van. Once the car was out, Jake pulled MC aside.

"I'm not scary, am I?" he pouted.

"Aw, hey, don't listen to him. I mean look at Dan. Who are the kids going to be more frightened of? A little ol' sad clown or McBeefy, the body builder clown?" MC joked.

"His muscles do look ridiculous in those bright yellow clothes and those stupid looking suspenders," Jake conceded.

MC leant up and gave his nose a quick peck, not wanting to ruin her own makeup, "Hey, no sad clowns allowed here today, ok?" She moved around to rejoin the group, fighting the urge to laugh at the sight of Dan climbing into the tiny clown car. "Alright team! It's time for operation 'Send in the Clowns!'"

"No pun intended," Jessy giggled.

MC shook her head in amusement, then turned to lead the way around the side of the house to the backyard. The others followed her on either side with Dan in the clown car, Jessy and Cleo carrying boxes full of neatly stacked pies, and Jake working on his happy clown expression, which only got them startled looks from the other hired staff that they passed. Still, it was a power walk like none other seen before, with their oversized red shoes that squeaked out of sync with each other and their bright coloured wigs.

The event organiser approached MC and asked, "Ok, what act are you with?"

MC looked at her clown costume and at the others before turning back to the organiser, "We're the clowns."

The organiser rolled his eyes, "I can see that, but there are multiple clown groups." He gestured to the stage where another troupe was performing.

"We have competition!?" Dan exclaimed. "Oh it is on!"

"Dan! This is not a circus talent show! It's a kids party!" Cleo hushed him.

"Are you going to be satisfied with being second best?" Dan pointed out.

Cleo was quiet for a moment before responding, "I bet their pies taste like trash."

"Their clothes are too coordinated and don't even clash with their hair," Jessy winced.

"They don't have a clown car," Jake pointed out.

"Ha! Even hac-" Dan caught himself before he slipped. "Harlequin boy is getting into it!"

Jake glared at Dan, knowing full well what Dan nearly yelled for everyone to hear.

"Could you do something about that one?" The organiser gestured to Jake. "He's going to give kids nightmares if he keeps that up."

MC smiled while fighting back laughing, "I assure you once he gets into character, he's all smiles. He's just having a bad day because someone hit his cat this morning."

"Oh! I am sorry to hear that. Well, you can warm up over by the hors d'oeuvres table," the organiser motioned.

The group moved over to the buffet table and set down the boxes while Dan parked the car and climbed out. As he was stretching out, the performers on stage finished and swarms of children got up and flooded the area, catching the group by surprise. Dan quickly started to juggle his bowling pins in an attempt to entertain the children.

“You suck!” one of the children yelled suddenly, causing Dan to miss one of the pins. The children all burst out laughing from the comical squeak as it landed on his shoe, followed by the comical pained squeak from Dan’s mouth.

Dan grumbled under his breath, “You little twerp!” But then another child jumped on his oversized shoe to make it squeak again and landed on his toes in the process. A series of comical squeaks streamed from Dan’s mouth.

Meanwhile Jessy pulled out a long balloon from her pocket and blew it up to twist into a balloon animal, “Who would like a dog balloon?”

“I want an elephant!” one of the kids called out.

“Well, I don’t do elephants. I do dogs,” Jessy frowned. “Tell you what, I can make you a giraffe!”

“No, an elephant!” the kid reiterated.

Jessy was so stressed that she ended up popping the balloon anyway. The kids all laughed while she quickly tried to blow up another balloon, but one of the naughty kids poked the balloon with a pin and caused it to pop in her face.

Cleo would’ve come to Jessy’s aid, but she was busy trying to keep the children away from her carefully baked pies, “No touchies!”

Jake on the other hand was slowly walking backwards, trying to get as far away from the mob as possible. However some of the children spotted him and started poking at him.

“What’s in the backpack?” one asked.

“Hey, can you do any tricks?” another pestered.

“Why aren’t you smiling?” another pressured. “Clowns are supposed to be happy!”

“You are a terrible clown!” one called out.

“Ah, he’s so creepy!” another cried.

MC panicked, not sure who to help first. She hadn’t imagined there would be so many children. It felt like the entire school had been invited to the party, or at least the entire grade.

The previous performers walked past sneering at them, “What a bunch of amateurs!”

Just then, MC spotted one of the toddler’s tricycles and grabbed it. She sat down and started awkwardly riding around the group. Jessy saw her and joined MC on a tricycle as well, trundling along beside her. The kids pointed and started giggling at how ridiculous they looked. Dan walked in front of them and jokingly tried to stop them using pantomime, but the girls ran into him and they all fell over. Cleo shook her head, then grabbed two pies and dumped them on the heads of the two female pranksters. A couple of the kids ran over and jumped on top of Dan, but he lifted them up with his monstrous strength and stood up, then pretended to weight lift while the kids held onto his arms. A couple more children jumped on and tried to weigh Dan down, but he couldn’t be stopped.

Amidst all of the chaos, Jake watched by the sidelines confused as to what to do. A young girl grabbed his hand, catching him by surprise.

“It’s ok to be sad,” she looked up at Jake with sympathy.

Jake was speechless, but then he remembered he had a few paper flowers in his coat pocket. He had intended to give them to MC, but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to give one to away. He took it out and offered it to the little girl with a soft smile. As soon as she saw the flower she eagerly took it from him and ran off to show her mother. The speed that she ran off bewildered Jake, but he caught MC watching him with a smirk on her face. Not understanding why MC would look at him like that, he looked away and blushed, hoping the white paint would cover the redness in his face.

While MC was distracted, Cleo and Jessy started play bickering amongst themselves and threw pieces of pie back and forth between them. Some of the kids got involved and started to take sides. They grabbed the expensive hors d’oeuvres as ammunition and soon an all out food fight broke out. MC took the opportunity to sneak out and grab Jake’s hand. While security desperately tried to get the fight under control, they ran off towards the house.

“I started to worry we wouldn’t get away,” Jake commented as he plugged a handheld device into the security pad and unlocked it with brute force.

“Ah, creating chaos is what we do best,” MC smirked, while watching for guards.

“Ok, door’s open. Let’s go,” Jake announced as he opened the door for MC.

MC ran in first. As she spent the afternoon studying the house’s floorplan, she knew exactly where the office was. What she hadn’t expected to find was a guard exiting the bathroom as they came around the corner. They caught him still in the middle of zipping up his pants. Before he could pull out his sidearm, Jake stepped in front and squirted the liquid from his fake flower on his chest into the guard’s face. The guard stepped back stunned, then collapsed unconscious on the ground.

“What the hell was that?” MC exclaimed.

Jake shrugged as he stepped over the unconscious guard, “I figured swapping the water out would come in handy.”

“You did what!?” she glared. “What if one of the kids go their hands on it!?”

“You can discipline me later. Help me pick him up,” he leant down and lifted the guard by his armpits.

MC facepalmed herself in her head while she bent over and picked up the guard’s ankles. Quickly they shuffled him over to a closet and dropped him on the floor. After checking the hallway was clear, they made a mad dash for the office. As they expected. the office door had a digital lock as well, except this one had a fingerprint scanner. Jake pried open the panel and plugged in his device directly into the board, but it was taking a lot longer to break into.

“Dan’s method would’ve been faster,” MC teased.

“No, it would not,” Jake rolled his eyes. “We’d have to find the right fingerprints first and with so many people in the house, there’s no way of knowing whose print is whose. It’s almost done. Give it a bit more time.”

After another minute, the device finally beeped with success. The door clicked open, and MC dashed inside the office. Jake snapped the panel closed again and shut the door behind him.

“Check his bookcase while I install the virus on his computer,” Jake motioned to the bookcase on the side of the room as he marched over to the desk.

“Pfft, I give the orders around here,” MC frowned.

Jake glanced up and raised his eyebrow, “Would you like to break into his computer instead?”

“No, I’m good,” she turned away and started shuffling through the unmarked folders in the bookcase.

Jake shook his head and plopped down in the leather chair. Swiftly he pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the back of the all-in-one computer monitor. As soon as he unlocked his laptop, he started running his program to bypass the PIN login on Santos’ computer.

“There’s nothing here,” MC sighed and stepped away from the bookcase, then glanced over at the very serious clown sitting at the computer typing away like it was life or death. She pursed her lips in an attempt to keep a straight face, but as Jake looked up and noticed her watching, she burst out laughing anyway. “I’m sorry, you just look so ridiculous sitting there looking like that.”

Jake reached up and squeezed his red nose, “The things I do for you.” He couldn’t help but smile as he returned to his work.

MC giggled then noticed in the window behind Jake that Dan, Cleo and Jessy were being chastised by the event organiser. He was absolutely furious, but then one of the children threw a pie at him. While he was distracted, the others ran off with the kids helping their escape. MC then noticed the guard they had knocked out stumbling into the yard gesturing and shouting about a surprise clown attack.

“Oh shit! Jake! We’ve gotta go!” MC gasped.

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the chaos ensuing outside. Not wanting to leave the clown car behind, Dan jumped in and started to drive off just fast enough to keep ahead of security. Jessy and Cleo jumped onto the sides of the car and held for dear life. Jake snapped back around and quickly unplugged his laptop, shoving it back into his backpack.

“The installation is finished. Let’s get out of here before the cops arrive!” Jake said in a hurry.

The two ran for the door so fast their wigs fell off. MC nearly tripped over her shoes as they entered the hallway so she ripped them off and Jake followed suit. Running in their rainbow-coloured socks, they bumped into maids and cooks as they made their way for the servant’s entrance. At some point they lost their red noses, but they couldn’t remember when. As they exited the building, Dan was driving the clown car into the van with Jessy and Cleo still on holding on. MC ran for the driver’s side door while Jake went for the passenger side. They jumped in just as the girls closed the backdoors tight. MC swiftly turned the van on and put it into the reverse gear. She went backwards so quickly, she nearly hit some of the security guards, but sped forwards before they could recover. Luckily the security gate was already open to let a catering van through when MC pushed through in front of them and made it back out onto the open road. In the distance they could hear approaching sirens, but she quickly regained her cool and dropped back down to the speed limit, hiding amongst the everyday traffic on the road.

“Oh my God!” Cleo cried out from the back. “That was nuts!”

“Did we do it?” Jessy asked. “Please tell me we did it.”

MC glanced over at Jake, who was wiping the makeup off his face with a towel. He nodded to MC in confirmation.

“We did it,” she announced.

Later that night social media erupted when phone camera footage of Dan driving the clown car with Jessy and Cleo hanging on top while being chased by security was posted to Tiktok. Thankfully due to the heavy makeup and costumes, no one could identify them. Within the following days documents were leaked to the internet detailing Jorge Santos’ dirty techniques and scams to drive property prices up and down as he saw fit, but unsurprisingly no one managed to connect the two events together. Mystery Investigators, Inc. were successful once again.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood dan #duskwood cleo #duskwood jessy #duskwood jake x mc #tw: clowns

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drgngutz · 1 year

Text

Cybernetic Soulmate - I

BEN Drowned x Reader: Part 1

Soulmate AU – Implied Feminine Reader

Note: BEN is my favorite creepypasta, and lowkey I never see enough of him in the fandom. SO, I’m taking it upon myself to give this a try. Can’t promise it’ll be finished, but I’m having fun with it right now. If you’d rather read this on a website, ima post it on quotev and wattpad soon. Right now i’m vibin here. If you don’t like scary shit, this one might not be for u but we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for reading :)

Description: Having the name Benjamin Lawman inscribed on your wrist until the age of 11, you had to live the rest of your life as one of the unlucky few who woke up one day with their soulmate mark crossed off. Devastated didn’t properly express the feeling of emptiness at the loss of connection between someone you had grown so close to. Ten long years have passed since then, but a new name has shown up just underneath the butchered one: BEN drowned. Soon enough you’ll figure out your old soulmate is now more demon than he is man.

Masterlist

Benjamin Lawman

BEN Drowned

The pads of your fingers swiped over the newly printed name on your wrist in absent-mindedness as you scrolled through page after page on the internet, causing subtle goosebumps to rise up on your skin as the bold letters brandished a light tingling with the friction. Old memories bumped around in your brain of producing the same feeling when the name you used to have was touched.

It wasn’t feasible. It wasn’t something that had ever happened unless a soulmate had clinically died and been resuscitated within minutes. But over the span of ten years? Impossible.

So why was this name here now? And why on earth was it different?

Returning to the old articles- the ones that you hadn’t looked at in years- yielded no results.

‘Benjamin Lawman, aged 12, has been missing since around 6p.m. yesterday. Reports have mentioned he was wearing…”

‘It has been just over a month since the young boy, Benjamin Lawman, has gone missing. If you have seen anything in relation to his case…’

‘Benjamin Lawman declared deceased. “The search has gone on too long.” - Officer Hubris states…’

Hours and hours of looking at the same stupid newspaper clippings, public records, and news outlets was doing nothing besides digging up old memories that you didn’t want to relive. The times where Ben would talk to you, laugh with you, when you would play made up games with each other through the connection you both had created over a short time. He was always showing you his games on the console he had been gifted for his tenth birthday; you could still see the hazy image of a little boy with blonde hair swinging a sword at all kinds of different monsters, with Ben reciting each one of them as if he had memorized every detail of the game. You had talked to each other through the connection every day, and then he was just… gone.

Exhausting your emotional and logical thinking, you ran your fingers through your hair before dragging your fingers down over your face to rid yourself of the stiffness. Glancing at the darkened letters on your wrist, you sighed in exasperation. Flopping the limb down onto your lap like a ragdoll, you traced the letters once more. It tingled again; that was the only grounding factor telling you that you weren’t dreaming all of this up. But, what kind of a name was BEN Drowned?

You swallowed thickly at the implication of both names showing up like that, how one replaced the other, and then opened up a new tab on your laptop.

Immediately searching the name led you to a page on 4chan. Clicking on the site led to a very in depth and lengthy story, accompanied by multiple videos of a fucked up version of Ben’s favorite game, which took you about two whole hours to complete and understand.

“...It already has proven to me that Ben can access my account/password and manipulate my computer, and like I said I have no idea to what extent it can do this, but know that it will do anything to break free. He is desperate. I’m going to do something, something rash that may not work. But, if it can keep everyone safe from him, I’m willing to try it. I’m going to make sure he stays in that fucking cartridge, so just forget about me, please…”

It’s nearly dark out at this point, and your head is stuck spinning in place like a globe as you try to swallow the massive amount of information that you’ve been presented with. And still, none of it makes sense. But, really, did any of this? The newly branded name on your wrist certainly made no sense. Was it so odd that maybe there was something going on with this man, Jadusable, as well? And somehow it was all lining up together that this…thing shows up, and then its name shows up on your wrist just below where your old soulmate's name was crossed off, further implying that your soulmate was whatever BEN Drowned is.

“Oh god. I need to go lay down.”

Benjamin Lawman

BEN Drowned

After the day that the name had appeared, you had been doing more research than you had ever bothered to do during your schooling. Each and every piece always led to the same two destinations; a declared dead little boy and a 4chan page that no longer had any active comments or replies from its author.

You had since resorted to using the connection to try and make a breakthrough.

The first time was difficult for you. Something that had laid dormant for so long felt… wrong. To try and open it again meant the possibility of connecting with someone who you’d assumed was gone forever. Now what? What if he answered? What if he didn’t answer? What if it wasn’t him?

It took a lot of thinking, and a lot more courage, to open up that connection again.

Hands shaking, you clasped them together and closed your eyes, brows furrowing in concentration as you felt the familiar sensation flip like a switch in your brain. Clenching your teeth, you felt your eyes water beneath your eyelids as you let yourself fall away from your own consciousness for a moment, the familiarity nearly making you pull out of the sensation in discomfort. But, you pursued. You had never gotten this far, not after he disappeared.

It was dark. That was the only way to explain it. Pitch black, with no source of light or sound to be observed. You dug a little deeper, trying to find the point of communication again… Only to be stopped. Confused, you tried to move forward again, only to be pushed back again. You tried over and over, poking and prodding at the connection, but to no avail. It was like something was specifically keeping you out; as if Ben didn’t want you to make a connection.

You came back to your own consciousness with a start, eyes flashing open and feeling breathless as the connection dwindled and then faded away without your focus to keep it going. But, it was there. You had never been able to enter our connection like that before. Now, there was at least something.

It continued like this for the rest of the week; you trying to make a connection happen while something forced you away. But, you weren’t about to give up anytime soon. You were just as stubborn as Ben could be, pushing and pushing to no avail. You felt insane to be reaching out to somebody that was dead, somebody that wasn’t alive anymore, but you refused to give in.

Then finally, it worked.

You had gotten better at it the more you had practiced, gotten used to the familiar feeling that was at first melancholic; this time, you entered without bothering to close your eyes. Apparently, he had his guard down.

A box shaped view, bordered in complete darkness. The light that peered in did nothing to illuminate the surrounding area; the light was coming from a window. Your window. You recognized it as the one in your living room that overlooked the couch opposite of the TV. And there you were, sitting straight, a focused look on your face as you stared at the wall, as you had done time and time again over the past few weeks. You watched yourself flick your eyes up to the TV in astonishment–

You were slammed out of the connection so hard that it sprouted a headache at the front of your forehead, and you flung your hand upwards in order to cater to the sudden feeling. Debilitated, you groaned tearfully before you could open your eyes again, blinking away the sting and glancing up at the TV.

Stop trying.

The words were written in white, in a small text box at the bottom of the screen. You were only able to read it once before they disappeared as quickly as you had seen them.

“What… What the fuck?”

Benjamin Lawman

BEN Drowned

He’s been watching her for a while now, observing, debating, keeping her annoying attempts at contacting him at bay; she was relentless in that particular field.

Soulmates had always existed on this earth, apparently. And, although the fragmented memories of the soul he had ‘borrowed’ managed to save them from being imprisoned again via this aggravating connection, he wanted nothing to do with her.

He was called many names; demon, ghost, vengeful spirit, poltergeist, cybernetic entity – Something born from a mixture of code and the aftermath of an abominable act – so they were not entirely wrong, but they were never right, either. Regardless, they were right about one thing. He had no room for care, or sympathy, or love. Not anymore. It was not programmed, not a part of his ideals.

That was what he assumed, until the annoying little prick that he chose to resuscitate from that watery grave started to rekindle the connection he had before, when he was alive. The little bits of his host that still existed within him now crawled and zapped within the numbers, disagreeing with how he was treating the girl. He assumed this was some form of rebellion from the kid, and it was affecting them a lot worse than he understood.

They weren’t supposed to feel the way he was toward this human, he wasn’t capable of having emotion at all. It wasn’t possible. And yet, here he was, watching her from the screen of the television that they had been trapped in ever since Ben’s last ditch effort at escape; it had worked, they were out of the cartridge, but they were missing pieces. That made the effort useless.

Perhaps he should’ve chosen a better host for ascension.

Benjamin Lawman

BEN Drowned

WHAM!

You jolted awake at the loudness of the sound, feeling it reverberate through the ground and walls with the force of it. Sitting upright, you stayed still as a statue and listened closely, in the case that you had dreamt the sound.

“Shit.” A voice whispered harshly against the silence, raspy and low.

“We- We gotta make this quick. Hurry up,” Foot steps followed the higher pitched voice heading down the hallway.

Swiftly, you ripped the covers off and dove for the closet, being as silent as possible as you settled below the hanging clothes and behind a hamper of dirty ones, trying to ease your breath and keep calm. Soon after, the two men barge into the bedroom and begin scouring your drawers.

Addicts, you assumed. That was the likely situation, given your shitty location and even shittier apartment, they frequented the area and often ended up breaking into places that they figured were either abandoned or no one was home. A few of her neighbors had some close calls, while a few others were not so lucky. Flashes of ambulances and white sheets came to your mind, and you pushed them away, instead listening to the two of them argue in some kind of whacked-out dispute.

“There’s no money, no jewelry; where the fuck is it all?” The first one started, slamming the drawer so loud the whole cabinet stuttered against the wall.

“M-Maybe we got the wrong number,” The other replied, dumping something onto the floor, “is it the wrong apartment?”

“If it is, we’re fucked. C’mon,” The two pairs of footsteps went further down the hall toward the kitchen, and you sighed gratefully.

Hearing them rummage through the kitchen drawers now, you felt your heart beating in your veins as you slowly opened up the closet door and peered around. The room was empty, and you could hear them starting another argument about something else. Now was the time to move before they could come back and check the closet; there was no point in waiting like a sitting duck.

Just as you were starting to silently make your way down the hallway and towards the front door, in the process realizing that they had burst the damn thing open in order to get inside, you heard the shuffle of footsteps in the kitchen begin to grow closer. Your blood ran cold, mind running wildly at the possibility of what would happen if they saw you.

Wordlessly, you bolted to the living room, relying completely on instinct as you locked your eyes onto the black screen of the TV. You hesitated a second, debating if hiding somewhere would be a better option, but a quick glance around the room told you there wouldn’t be a place for you to do so. They were getting closer, the scuffing of their boots on the tile spurred you forward.

“I am so fucking crazy for this…” You whispered, eyes flickering all over the screen as you gripped its edge in a vice. Fuck it.

“If you’re in there,” You took a deep breath, faltering out of fear, “I need help. Please, some men broke into my house and–”

“Did you hear that?” You nearly stopped breathing from how close they were now.

“Yeah, came from that room, there.” Hurried, heavy steps started toward the rooms entrance.

“Shit.” You turned and gazed desperately at the screen, no response.

“God damn you,” Frustrated, you began to scream and bang at its dark surface with your fists, “Fucking answer me!”

“The hell’s wrong with you?” The two men had finally made it into the room, just staring at you as your slammed your fists repeatedly against the TV. One of them, a smaller, scruffy looking man, looked confused and concerned. The other, much taller and larger, looked pissed off.

“What does that matter?” The bigger one began to advance, and right before he pushed you to the floor, you saw the screen light up. Hissing at the sting of the impact, you glanced behind the man towards the now lit-up screen.

Fine.

“Tell us where you’re keeping all of your shit. Now.” His harsh tone made you flinch, feeling spit hit your face as he loomed over you.

“I-I… I don’t have anything. I swear… I don’t have–” You stuttered, but couldn’t complete the sentence in time.

SMACK!

The burning of your cheek registered before you realized what had happened, feeling tears fall down your face at the shock of the pain. You heard something clicking against itself, the harsh noise berating your ears and making you look back at him before freezing in place.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re hiding something, I know you are. Hand it over!” You’re left staring down the barrel of a hand gun as he shouts at you, and if you weren’t crying before, you definitely are now.

“Hey… Hey Jim.” The soft voice of the other man interrupts the exchange, and the angry man, Jim, nearly blows a fuse.

“Something’s wrong, man.”

“What the hell are you on about now, Mike?” With a rage in his eyes, he turned around, the gun turned safely away from your face. Before he could say anything else, however, he stilled.

You peered up at the screen, where they were both looking, as you trembled at the prospect of being shot.

You shouldn’t have done that.

“What the hell? This some kinda game?”

You wish it was.

“Jim, lets go.” Mike practically begs his friend, inching towards the door.

“There’s somebody else here. They’re probably watchin’ us, right now.” His voice trembles at the thought.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Jim spits, angry at the idea; “I’m talking to you too, creep! Come out and show yourself instead of hiding behind a fucking screen.”

If you say so.

There’s a moment where the screen goes dark, before another message pops up on screen.

Close your eyes.

You obey the message without a word, clenching them as tight as you possibly can. Then, you hear the front door slam shut, despite it being broken off of it’s hinges before.

“What the fuck was–” Jim’s words are cut off by his own strangled screams. Something drops to the ground with a clatter, shortly followed by Mike’s shrill screams that fade as he moves towards the front of the apartment. He begins to plead for something to open as something begins to snap and pop in the living room. You flinch at each noise, nearly sobbing as the man’s screams from in front of you are reduced to garbled grunts and groans, before he goes silent with one final crunch.

Mike’s murmured ‘no, no, no’ can be heard from he hallway as he slams rhythmically against something over and over. The words are chased by his own screams that echo one final time before it’s swiftly cut short, only to be replaced by a deafening silence that leaves your heart beat thrumming in your ears. Ragged breaths help to filter out the lack of sound as you stay glued in place, not daring to open your eyes.

A moment passes, then another; What feels like a few minutes go by before you hear anything else.

“You can open them now.” Your eyes snap open at the almost robotic tone that instinctively feels familiar.

A quick sweep around the room showed that there was nobody there; in fact, there was no sign that they had ever been there in the first place. The only thing that was different was the TV, which was still lit up, the same words that were spoken to you depicted in white letters in the textbox.

You can open them now.

The screen dropped to black, and then lit up again.

All done. You’re welcome.

The screen went dark for the final time that night, and all that was left was the silence.

Next Part

#bendrowned #xreader #creepypasta #fanfic #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned #x reader

74 notes · View notes

thestalwartheart · 1 year

Note

Asking them about their family for 00q, pretty please! 🙏🥰

Thanks for the prompt, Alex! This is admittedly a bit of a twist on it, but you and I both enjoy a bit of ambiguity, so I thought I'd be forgiven for it!

You can read it below or on AO3.

Enjoy! 💖

It’s only Bond, Q tells himself. He’s just a man, for goodness sake. This whole situation is proof of that.

Q clears his throat and gestures for Tanner to give them some space in the lab, then wishes fervently for the ground to swallow him whole. He grips the edge of his desk. Perhaps, in the next three seconds, he’ll think of a way to give Bond some mind-reading powers so they can avoid a conversation. Hardly worth the risk, normally, but on this occasion…

“Before you go, 007, I’m er—”

“Spit it out, Q.”

“Right. Yes. I’m going to need you to change the password for your company-assigned laptop.”

Bond narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you a bit overqualified to be delivering messages usually sent by automated prompts?”

“And here I thought I still had too many spots to be qualified.” Bond gives him a look and Q remembers why jokes are a terrible idea in times like this. “You’re right, I am usually. But given the security fiasco with Denbigh and the merger, I’ve been doing some manual audits. Your password passes most requirements, but it’s—”

“—easy to guess,” finishes Bond. His hand twitches. Whether it’s out of annoyance or the desire for a strong drink, Q doesn’t know. He sympathises with the latter thought—he could certainly use a scotch or two himself.

“Yes. It’s linked to your file, and therefore a security risk. This isn’t something a computer would normally pick up, especially with the state of our backend systems. I’m sorry, Bond.”

Bond’s face remains unreadable, but he nods and promises to sort it out as soon as he gets back to his desk.

For a moment, Q is pleasantly distracted by the thought of James Bond sitting at a desk in an open-plan office, a human like the rest of them and just as subject to the indignities of hierarchy. Q wonders if he drinks coffee out of that awful, too-small company mug everyone’s got, or whether he’s put a few government-issued pens in it instead. Neither, probably. Bond has taste. Q would put money on him favouring better coffee and pens.

“Good,” says Q with a thin smile. “Good, thank you. You’re free to go, then.”

While he tries not to choke on the awkwardness in the room, Q turns toward a half-finished surveillance device on his workstation.

“Q?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” At the look Q gives him, he elaborates. “I can’t imagine everyone else who failed your security audit got the personal attention of the Quartermaster.”

That’s true. All the other agents and analysts who failed it got emails written by one of his graduate techs. Q tries not to linger on the thought that he’d probably have gone out of his way to talk to Bond anyway. Thinking about it for too long would mean interrogating why, and he’s fine with living in ignorance on that particular subject.

“Let’s call it luck of the draw.”

His discretion is awarded with a rare smile. He carries it with him until two days later, when he does a follow-up check of the admin systems. It reveals a clean sheet of secure passwords.

Q leaves dealing with Bond’s for last. He knows the man has more sense than to make the same mistake twice, so Q could leave unchecked. It’s not as if it matters whether he knows the password or not; he has full remote access to everything on Bond’s laptop anyway.

But he’d be naive to believe most passwords didn’t reveal some secrets about the person whose data they hide.

Q isn't sure he's ready for more of Bond's secrets.

No favouritism, he reminds himself. You’ve checked everyone else’s. God knows Bond already gets handed enough exceptions around here.

With that rebuke to himself in mind, he clicks the button to reveal the new password.

He taps his pen on the desk twice, then laughs. There is no mention of Delacroix, nor any other baggage-laden names in Bond’s file.

Instead, translated into an agent's approximation of leetspeak, blinks the word Temeraire.

#00q #00q fic #my fic #james bond

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anarchywoofwoof · 3 months

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i read the wiki on the jstor / aaron case and i’m still confused i don’t quite understand what happened? he was being criminally charged for … downloading academic files ???

yes.

what you need to understand for context is that most academic papers are kept behind a paywall. the authors of those papers are most commonly folks like university professors who performed the research under grants from various places including the government and large corporations.

from there, there are only a limited number of options to publish the findings. once upon a time, it used to all be in print but now obviously everything is digital.

thus, the only way to access these scientific publications is through specific journals and their digital collections, all of which require payment to access. when you shell out $25, $50, or even $100 to download an article, none of that money goes to the researchers. they've already been compensated through their grants and have shared their findings with the public at no cost. the entire fee ends up with, in Aaron Swartz's case, JSTOR.

so all of the research and work was funded by some group. the work was actually performed by another group. the work was given to the public to further the collective knowledge of humanity. but in order for any of us to access the knowledge we have to pay for it. Aaron Swartz believed that was wrong. he believed that JSTOR was profiting off of an unnecessary middle man position that it created itself to enrich individuals.

so he used a Python script running on a laptop hidden in a maintenance closet at MIT to bulk download a large amount of publicly available academic papers from the JSTOR database with the intention of hosting them for free elsewhere on the web. JSTOR realized it and sent the feds after him.

here is JSTOR, on a site that exists today, in 2013 describing what Aaron Swartz did as "extremely serious."

despite JSTOR later dropping its case after backlash and despite Aaron having access rights to the database, he was later indicted on federal charges under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.

faced with up to 35 years of jail time and quickly-draining legal funds, Aaron committed suicide in his Brooklyn apartment, shortly after being denied further negotiation on his plea bargain by Assistant US Attorney Stephen Heymann.

more from maia on this topic from just a few months ago can be found here.

#borking back #aaron swartz #jstor

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dallonwrites · 2 months

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okay decided my camp nano routine as a boy with a dream who works part time but his shifts are still 15 hours long 👍:

when im at home and have access to the Laptop and The Computer Monitor and the External Keyboard: work on the actual draft chronologically. no excuse when you can put the notes + the doc side by side and can type really fast. i do word count goals based on the vibe of the day but let’s try word count goals here bc you’ll actually have the chance to make them

when im at work and only have the notes app and a dream: just whatever man. forget about the draft just write whatever vision comes to mind. whatever your heart needs when it’s 2pm and still another 8 hours to go like write beau at the grocery store for all i care. who needs narrative significance maybe he finds a perfectly ripe mango whatever makes you happy. maybe he almost fights a mom over the last box of grape popsicles

#OR I will work on timelining and outline notes if I feel a moment would benefit from outlining #i timelined the whole novel from memory at work once it was super fun #to be clear i sometimes get a lot of downtime at work it depends but it’s just being there all day 👍

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magicalgirlmascot · 10 months

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Alright who wants to see my old Bionicle humanizations? These were from my modern/college!AU Metru Uni which I made when I was in college. These were all posted on dA circa 2011-12ish, and you have to understand these were drawn by hand, scanned into a computer, and edited using a laptop trackpad and MS Paint. Get ready for a lot of Shoujo Legs and Weird Character Choices. (All images will have their descriptions in the alt text.)

So first of all you have to understand that Vakama was my babygirl for many many years. This guy has the worst social anxiety you've ever seen. Not sure why I decided to take away his glasses when he transformed considering that's one of my least favourite things but whatever.

THIS MAN HAS NO ASS. I mean none of them do but Matau especially, goddamn. Anyway he wanted to dye his hair green so bad but his mom wouldn't let him. This guy is a huge flirt and we stan. Also I think the second image is flipped for some reason.

Okay yeah the second image is definitely flipped why did I do that. I was genuinely trying to make Nokama look cute and fashionable here but also I didn't know how to draw skirts very well so. Yeah. Vakama and Matau were both instantly smitten with her when she showed up and honestly the endgame ship there was Vakama/Nokama but for real it should've been the three of them. God she was so fucking patient

Now I gotta say I have absolutely no clue why the hell I gave Onewa a punk aesthetic (it's not even that punk, really, just what I would've considered punk as a very sheltered teen in 2011) but it kinda fucks actually. He was such a bitch but also he was so right about basically everything. King <3

WHENUA MY BELOVED. He was the oldest out of all of them and straight up had a university degree already but had for some reason decided to go to college after to get qualifications for a job that definitely would have paid less than the job he was originally going for with the university degree but I was dumb as hell and also he had to be at college that was the point of the fic. He and Vakama were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

Okay so the hairstyle. Um. I was obsessed with Wizard AnimalParade at the time. Also when he lifted the eyepatch on his transformed self he could zoom his vision in and out like a telescope. Also also he was obsessed with astronomy and thought astrology was stupid which. Is very funny writing KNPS now because that version of Nuju has exactly the same opinion

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Hey Rags how come the characters with brown and black as their theme colours are the only brown and black skinned characters" because I was fucking stupid that's why. Moving on.

One of the running gags I had in the manga version of this fic (YES there was a manga version, it only got about halfway through the second chapter) was that Lhikan always had bishounen sparkles every time he appeared. I wanted him to be a pretty boy so bad. I stand by this choice honestly Lhikan should be the prettiest boy. He should be more pretty than he is. VAKAMA SHOULD'VE HAD A BI LITTLE CRUSH ON HIM.

Honestly the only reason his eyes are white here is I forgot to colour them lmao. Dume worked in the college's security office and he was such an uptight old bitch. Look at his stupid little tie clip. This was also before I learned how to, like, make people look older, and so he just looks like a young man with a moustache lol. What learning to draw from Chris Hart books does to a mf

And to round off this part, please have one of the first pieces of digital art I ever did: a cover for the series! Back in the day fanfiction.net let you set a specific cover for a series so I drew this for that. I'm honestly really glad I found this again, I thought that it was lost to time and the only version I had access to was the extremely crunched version still up on ff.net. I drew this all by hand and did all the colouring and shading and stuff using Paint.net, which was a free program. The textures for the dirt and earth were made using MS Paint still though lol.

OKAY there are still about one million billion left to go but I'm calling it here for now so it doesn't get too long. I'll make another post with villains or something later.

Except also here have this no-context picture of Matau that was my deviantart profile picture for a long time.

#bionicle #human bionicle #look. LOOK.#at least half of this story is what became the blueprints for knps okay. i have changed very little.#it was formative for me though. how many big weird au fics have i done since then. metru uni was the first. the progenitor.#without metru uni we don't get west city public library or kini nui public school. so there you are.#but like for real though NO ONE HAS AN ASS. WHERE IS THE BOOTY. 19 YEAR OLD ME WAS A COWARD.

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