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#ghosti's definitely not straight

mafiadad5 · 3 months

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Request- “Omg can you maybe do like visiting jisung in the practice room for a quickie while the others are out #dontgetcaught!!”

Part 2

Wc- 912

a/n- ty for your request, and I’m definitely planning a part two for this🤫. Hope u like and no proof read lol🩷

18+ content

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You find yourself on the way to the practice room after receiving your boyfriend’s text of wanting you to ‘watch him practice’.

Obliviously walking down the hallway, cracking the door open expecting to see the boys being their usual self, but instead you’re met with Jisung sitting on the floor, back against the wall as he held his head low. His arm rested on his knee, his legs were spread apart. He looked to see who was at the door, getting up from the floor as he noticed it was you.

“Hey baby.”

His voice was deep, seeping into your mind like a drug. He looked at you, his eyes were dark, but still had a slight twinkle that definitely indicated his mood. His plumped lips parted slightly as his bangs floated over his face, the warm lights of the practice room hitting his skin making him glow.

“Where are the guys?” You asked.

“Gone.” He murmured, walking past you, closing and locking the door. You turned to look at him, his eyes already on you as he stood in front of the door, exposing his obvious hard on through his gray sweatpants.

“Need you so bad— so bad.” His voice was breathy, in a whisper like he was trying to make sure you, and only you heard him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, biting his pink full lips as your eyes became far more lustful.

“Someone’s feeling a little bit risky.” You smiled, pulling him closer to you, teasing him with ghosty kisses on his lips.

“Wanna fuck you so bad.” He pulled you as close as your bodies would let him, his nose brushing against yours, his hot lips brushing yours slightly as he spoke.

His voice was raspy, yet so soft like he was begging you for it. He knew how to make you break, make you just as needy as him, and trust, it worked. “What if the guys come back?” You said nervously. You were all for experimenting and trying new things with Jisung, but in public where his friends could catch you made you a little nervous.

All those nerves and worries were no longer in your mind as he had you pushed against the mirror, one hand on your hip the other holding up your leg as he aimlessly thrusted into you. Your fingers intertwined with his dark, soft hair, small moans leaving his mouth as you tugged gently with every thrust.

“Tell me I’m yours Y/n, please.” Jisung whimpered out, pushing deeper and deeper into you, his deep voice was desperate, love drunk as you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, holding onto him for support.

“You’re mine Ji— fuck, your pretty moans, your perfect lips, your mind fucking eyes, they’re all for me.” His skin flushed hearing your words, going straight to his lower half making him thrust faster causing yearned moans out of you from almost reaching your high.

“I’m your good boy right— making you feel so good?” His voice was mixed with strained moans and whimpers made your legs weak.

His hand found your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud causing you to let out loud cry’s of pleases and his name. Your mind was so fucked, you couldn’t even think right.

Typically in the bedroom he wouldn’t have to ask you to talk him through his orgasms, the words would just naturally roll off your tongue, but something about him telling you what to do, even if it was just asking you to call him the usual names turned you on even more. You blanked out, couldn’t even get out the words, just loud moans as his pace got needier. He gripped your leg tighter raising it higher, pushing himself deeper into you hitting your g-spot, his nails digging into your bare thighs causing an unbearable sensation.

“Fuck Jisung, I’m there.” You whined, throwing your head back, biting your lip so hard you think you could actually pull blood, your legs shaking violently.

“Y/n, tell me that I’m your good boy. I’m almost there baby just say it.”

He was still letting out deprived whimpers, but his tone was way more demanding, making you clench around him from just hearing his voice. He wanted to hear those words come out your mouth and he wasn’t gonna stop telling you to say it unless you gave him what he wanted, even if that meant continuing after you reached your high.

“Fuck Jisung, you’re a good boy— you’re a fucking good boy.” You said in a defeated moan, causing him to flash a smile while looking at your fucked out face. That smile instantly turned into a gasp as he felt himself twitch inside of you. “Fuck im cumming.” He whimpered out, thrust becoming sloppier as you clenched around him continuously, overstimulated from already cumming. He pushed himself into you a few more times, riding out his orgasm as he let out small moans.

You two sat in position, catching your breath before he went back to his normal self, helping you clean up, making sure you’re ok, and taking a ride home with you.

All you could think of was the way he was demanding you, it was definitely attractive to you and oh my did it turn you on, but you just couldn’t bring it up to him for some reason.

But your face had said it all. The way you moaned, your body, your eyes told it all, and Jisung knew.

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eddieisashifter · 2 months

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what it's like dating percabeth

because I need to brag about my loves <3

Percy Jackson

The definition of a skater boy, he's so silly

he loves physical affections just as much as I do.

I swear, we're always holding each other's hand, and if we're sitting together anywhere, you'll find us in each others' laps

he's working on helping me get over my thalassophobia. It's going terribly.

but, we do swim together in the lake, sometimes at midnight when we can't sleep

Dates to the aquarium, skatepark, to-go coffee as we walk around downtown nyc, and rock concerts. He loves to go out and do stuff. Always on the move, flowing from one thing to the next like water.

he also loves to go thrifting with me, especially in my small hometown

I swear this man does not breath. When he kisses, I feel like I'm gonna pass out from light-headedness (not that I'm complaining ehehe)

He loves graphic novels and comics because of his dyslexia, since he still likes to read. I've taken him to the comic shop several times and bought him some (spider-man is his favorite)

He loves jewelry too. He has a few layered necklaces on all the time (including his camp one with a trident on it, one that says 'seaweed brain' from annabeth, and a locket with pictures of me and annie inside from me)

bracelets are his favorite though. he's stolen some of my spiked leather cuffs and annabeth's charm bracelet. But he's also got a few from thrifting and gifts from us

he also keeps hair ties on his wrists so he can give one whenever me or annabeth need one (or estelle when her hair grows out)

He loves cheesy pet names, and he's made a few personal ones for me (and for Annie!) But his favorites for me are: ghostie, darling, babe, azzy, and sweetheart

He's got really bad self-esteem though, we do our best to encourage him whenever we can bc he's so amazing he just doesn't see it :(

Annabeth Chase

I love this girl sm it's not even funny

Dates to the library/bookstore, coffee shops to play board games, small business shops in my small hometown, baking (she helps me bc i'm scared of the oven :,)

I swear to gods this girl can play chess.

Like I thought I knew how to play, but she's literally the daughter of the goddess of strategy I stand no chance

It's okay though, she'll say "checkmate" and kiss me on the nose and it makes it all worth it

We'll annotate each other's favorite books (in Greek bc it's easier for us both) and exchange them <333

hers are neat and actually interesting comments about the book while mine look like a wattpad comment section

When I'm not taking care of myself properly she'll use that commanding tone to make me do shit (like eating or drinking water) and I immediately melt

She doesn't hesitate to tease me about it either, usually using words of praise, which makes my blushing ten times worse

Her and Percy make bets to see who can make me blush first and they're wicked competitive about it. She likes to whisper in my ear in public and watch me try not to make a fool out of myself.

When she wants to lead me somewhere she'll hook her finger on my choker/collar and drag me along

We'll sit in bed reading together. She'll be sitting up straight and I'll have my head in her lap usually.

She isn't big on pda like Percy is, but she gives little kisses and touches when people aren't paying that much attention.

I'm so whipped for them it's not even funny

#okay now I need to go shift #pjo disaster polycule ~ eddie annabeth and percy #percy jackson shifting #percy jackson dr #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percy jackson #annabeth chase #self ship #pjo self ship #pjo dr #pjo shifter

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alchemicaladarna · 1 month

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Bad's behaviour yesterday was so, so weird, and it FRUSTRATES me because it's either not that deep and he's just being silly goofy or this is like his first puzzle piece for a grander plan.

If he's being silly just for the sake of it, why is he lying to the ghosties? There is no mystery to his actions. We know he's had some involvement with the rabbits' deaths, even if he didn't directly kill them. He buried the bodies and hid the evidence of the deaths, thus naturally making him suspicious. BUT WE KNEW THAT ALREADY.

He is acting the way he did during the furniture incident, but unlike that time, there is no mystery- there is nothing to hide from the ghosties because we know about the bunnies' deaths. We know he threatened and haunted Missa. So why would he lie?

Unless, he's not lying at all. Yesterday, Bad said he doesn't remember anything, except meeting up with Missa. After that, the way he describes it, genuinely seems like he has no recollection of his off-putting behaviour. He affirmed this twice (once at his house, and once, later at spawn before he discovered Bobinho was stalking him and taking pictures). It was as if he passed out, and had no control of his body. You could almost say it was as if he was possessed.

Do I have any direct evidence to back that theory? Ehhh not really. Not yet, at least. But you best believe Bad was acting very strange with Missa that night and it seems that he is definitely hiding something from the audience.

One thing that does tip me off though, is his question, "We're friends Missa, aren't we?" Now, this could be referring to a lot of things. Bad could simply be threatening Missa, or this could be a product of his memory loss (asking if he and Missa are actually friends because he genuinely doesn't remember) OR this could be another entity trying to affirm if Bad and Missa are friends or not.

Either way, I just think it's so weird and frustrating because one, his behaviour was just straight up horror movie antagonist, and two, the supernatural weather powers happened again (first time we saw this was the end of the Acceptance stream I think) when he became angry at Missa for thinking he worked with the raccoons, and the lightning strikes destroying the ominous picture.

Tldr: Bad is lying (which makes no sense) ; something or someone else possessed him momentarily

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp theory #its like the furniture incident all over again 😭😭😭#WHY IS HE ACTING SO WEIRD IF THERES NO REASON TO #i get he's hiding the deaths and being sus about his behaviousr with Missa to other players like Phil #but why try to lie to us ghosties?

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captain-mj · 7 months

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Can we get a cowboy hat rule one short with a shop of your choice? Or a part 3 for the stripper AU did Ghost finish thinking about Soaps offer of dating? 👉👈🥺

Part 1 Part 2

Stripper au!! I can definitely do that!! They fuck in this one finally

Alejandro threw open Soap's office door before closing it with just as much gusto. "I have a date with Rodolfo!!"

Soap smiled. "That's great!"

Alejandro nodded. "I'm so happy. Something must have changed his minds, but he's finally said yes."

Soap had a funny feeling of a certain Simon Ghost Riley was behind it but he didn't say anything. "Good. Where do you plan on taking him?"

"Nicest restaurant I can. I'm going to be woo him." Alejandro grinned.

Soap nodded. "Have fun dude! I'm happy for you." He watched Alejandro leave, going straight to Gaz's office. Once he was sure he was gone, he texted Ghost. "Thanks for Ale."

"It was mostly for myself. Rudy was upset he hadn't come back in a few days. Said I could pull some strings if he'd finally ask the guy out."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"Of course, Johnny."

Soap stared at the text message for a minute, trying to think of a response when Ghost sent a follow up text.

"I've been thinking."

"Made a decision?"

"You really have no ulterior motive other than getting dicked down. It's funny."

"No, no. Not just dicked down. I want to wine and dine you too."

Ghost took a while to respond. "You a gentleman, huh? Alright. Come to my office."

Soap rushed out and over to Ghost's office. He knocked excitedly and Ghost opened the door. His mask was up and he was in a dark green cardigan that looked oversized despite how big he was.

Simon was... well. Dorky. Soft. Always dressed in comfy but still dark clothing.

Johnny felt such a rush of affection for him. Simon lost a tiny bit of the confidence he had when he saw the lovestruck look on Johnny's face.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Being sappy. Do I have to take my shirt off to seem cool to you?"

"Nah, but I do think it would be nice."

Simon rolled his eyes and motioned for him to come in. Johnny did what he was supposed to and followed after him, grinning like an idiot.

Ghost sighed and locked the door. "Fine. I'll date you. Only because you've been so cute about it."

Soap threw his hands up in a cheer before quickly bringing them back down when Ghost turned to look at him. He got to see him laugh.

Simon took his mask off carefully. "It's okay. If you need to do a little celebration, I'd love to watch." The scarring. It look old, clearly stuff from childhood even if Soap couldn't think of a reason why a child would have a snake that close to their face.

Johnny smiled. "Nae, I'm much more interested in the bonnie in from of me."

"Bonnie?"

"Means pretty."

Soap felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at Ghost's blush. His whole face turned red, all the way down his neck. "Shut up."

"Aye? You're bashful?"

Ghost scoffed but he couldn't hide it.

Soap grabbed his cardigan carefully, not wanting to move too fast just yet. "You do look nice. Thought I'd say it in the Queen's english in case you had any doubts."

Ghost looked down at him and shook his head. "I'm already regretting my decision."

Before Soap could think of something clever or even something smart, Ghost leaned down a little. He kissed Soap's cheek. "Maybe you can give me the lap dance next time. So we're even."

Soap turned bright red and had to look away.

Ghost laughed. "Now who's a bashful bonnie."

Soap swiped at him and laughed. "Oh fuck off. So our first date."

"I was thinking right now. Coffee."

"This is why you're the man for me, Ghostie."

Ghost hit his shoulder but without his mask, Soap could see him blushing. Before they departed, Ghost unfortunately put the mask back on, fortunately though, he did let Soap get a kiss before he did.

Soap followed him like a moth to a particularly bright lamp. He sat with him at a coffeeshop and ordered his drink before talking with him for a few minutes.

Then hours.

Then it hit night and they were still there. Talking.

The poor barista had to gently tell them they needed to leave since the place was closed.

"Want dinner?" Soap asked, smiling at him.

Ghost nodded. "I could eat."

Somehow, they ended up at Soap's place. Soap was pressed to his counter, Ghost kissing frantically down his neck and chest.

Ghost picked him up by his thighs and put him on the counter, kissing him properly without having to lean down. He slotted perfectly between Soap's thighs.

Soap pulled away, putting his hand firmly on Ghost's chest. "Simon."

"Yes?"

"I don't actually know how to lap dance. I'd just sit there like a dead fish."

Ghost stared at him, almost unnervingly long before kissing him. "God you're such a loser."

"Hey-"

Ghost started to unbutton his pants and Soap quickly shut up. He closed his eyes and groaned once Ghost finally got a hold of him. He had been thinking of this moment for weeks. Ever since he saw those leather bound thighs and lovely abs.

Soap had to stop him again though and Ghost glared, clearly telling him he better not be making another joke. "Don't want your hands."

Ghost leaned in, noses bumping each other. He then threw Soap over his shoulder and carried him towards the bedroom. He dropped Soap on the bed, watching him bounce before going through his drawers. "Where do you keep your lube?"

"Bottom drawer."

"Good boy."

Soap groaned and started to kick off all of his clothing. He grabbed one of his pillows and got comfortable on his stomach.

Ghost looked him over appreciatively once he found his target. He got on top of Soap and pressed him down a little. With one hand, he pulled his ass up, squeezing.

His hands were skillful and patient as they got Soap ready. Soap was not patient at all, thrashing and pushing himself back and telling Ghost to please speed it up.

Ghost ignored him, working him open over and over again. He took the rest of his clothing off and set it on top of Soap's clothing. He laid on top of him and pushed in, holding Soap in a death grip.

Soap buried his face in the pillows and groaned. "Holy fuck you're big." He arched his back, determined to get Ghost as deep as he could.

Ghost put his hand on the back of Soap's neck to pin him and rocked his hips gently. "Thank you. People at the club certainly like it."

Soap's eyes flashed and then narrowed. He pressed further back and grabbed Ghost's other hand, kissing it. The two of them moved back and forth in sync, something just working between them.

Soap groaned and his body tightened when he tensed. Ghost pressed tighter against his back and, although he was quiet, he was right in Soap's ear so he could hear him. Small groans and curses.

Soap bit his wrist and he arched. He tried his best to be quiet, but Ghost was dragging out noises Soap didn't know he was capable of making. Every thrust or grind was in just the right spots and Soap was pretty sure he only lasted as long as he had out of the fear of embarrassing himself.

Ghost sped up though and Jesus wept.

Soap came hard, untouched and so flustered he was sure Ghost could tell it wasn't all from exertion.

Ghost breathed gently right next to his ear. "Good lad. Let it all out for me."

Fucking hell.

Soap closed his eyes and felt his cock twitch.

"Is it okay if I come inside?"

He nodded quickly and bit the pillow as Ghost slammed into him. His eyes rolled back as he started to get overstimulated but he wanted, needed, Ghost to finish in him.

Ghost wrapped both arms around him and buried his face in his hair as he came, squeezing tight.

Soap reached up and ruffled his hair.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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rosepetalgold · 8 months

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the art of saying goodbye

Summary: Remus expects a lot of things from the Queen Anne Victorian house he’s just purchased—a restoration project to occupy his time, some peace and quiet from nosy neighbors, a chance to brag about being a homeowner before his goody two-shoes brother.

What he doesn’t expect is for the property to come with a very real, very curious ghost. But what is he supposed to do, just ignore the spirit? That'd be nothing short of rude, especially considering that the specter's fascination with modern science and penchant for hijacking Remus' technology proves unfairly endearing.

But even as their unlikely friendship grows, so too do the questions swirling in Remus’ mind: Why is Logan still haunting the place he used to live? Who is the mysterious Janus he refuses to talk about? And what will it take for the ghost to finally find peace with the life and the love that were stolen from him so long ago?

Relationships: Platonic Intrulogical, past romantic Loceit, background romantic Prinxiety

Warnings for this chapter: None!

Word Count: 7000

Notes: My fic for this year's @sandersidesbigbang, aka another angsty tale that inexplicably grew out of a single fluffy scene, aka a prime excuse to procrastinate by poring through countless photos of beautiful Queen Anne houses my beloved. I hope you enjoy this ghostie story as much I enjoyed writing it! A big shoutout to my wonderful beta reader @dragonsaphirareads for all their feedback on this fic, and don't miss the amazing art by the incredible @casart and @onthevirgeofdestruction—you can check out their pieces here and here! (Seriously, even if you don't read the fic, go feast your eyes on their work because it is straight-up stunning. Go look, you'll see.)

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

start (you’re here!) - next

“This place is definitely haunted.”

Remus snorts, giving his brother a friendly sock in the arm.

“Oh come on, Ro, you scared of a few ghosties now? Afraid a floating white sheet is gonna jump out and yell boo?”

Roman doesn’t answer, just eyes the Queen Anne Victorian home in front of them with the amount of trepidation he usually reserved for any time Remus started a sentence with ‘I have an idea.’ The house does give off distinctly spooky vibes, Remus has to admit, what with its boards in desperate need of a new coat of paint and its broken window in the attic, not to mention the porch that looks liable to send someone plummeting to the ground if they take a single wrong step, but what was wrong with any of that? It all just added to the building’s character, and the risk of falling through the veranda was a delightful way to keep visitors on their toes, in his superior opinion.

And besides, he couldn’t turn his nose up at the property’s many flaws when they made it dirt-cheap. He wasn’t exactly a millionaire.

He grabs Roman’s arm, tugging him forward.

“C’mon, there’s some wicked spindlework on the back you gotta check out.”

His brother makes a sound of protest, dragging his feet as Remus hauls him onward.

“Aren’t we going to go inside?”

“Nah, I don’t have the keys yet. Everything’s still pending or whatever.”

Roman shifts his incredulous gaze from the house to Remus.

“You made me come all this way just to look at the outside of a house you haven’t even officially bought yet?”

Why yes, he had. He was such a good brother.

“Don’t act like it’s such a burden to drive twenty minutes out of the way to get here, especially when it means you’re twenty minutes closer to a booty call with Virgil.”

Roman splutters, face flushing a splendidly scandalized shade of crimson, and Remus cackles. That was more like it.

“Now c’mon c’mon c’mon, the sooner you ooh and aah over all my cool house shit, the sooner you can get some of that good di—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Roman interrupts, slapping his hands over his ears, but he doesn’t protest as Remus pulls him around to the back of the house and points out the expansive if overgrown backyard, the plethora of decorative elements adorning the home, the leaded glass windows that have survived well over a century.

“I don’t get it, though,” Roman says as he eyes the tower gracing the corner of the house, something Remus would swear is a hint of jealousy in his gaze. Made sense. He knows for a fact his brother would sell his soul to be Rapunzel. “If this is such a nice place, why has it sat empty for so long?”

“Dunno. The realtor just said it stayed in the family of the guy who built it for a while before changing hands a bunch. Apparently every time it’s been on the market it’s taken ages to find a buyer, but she didn’t really say why no one wanted to live here for too long.” Probably just her trying not to scare him away from what was clearly a substantial restoration project so she wouldn’t lose her commission. Either that or there was some kind of toxic fungus in the walls that had taken over all the previous residents’ brains and turned them into zombies and Remus was about to become its next victim.

What a delightful gamble to find out which one it was.

“Can we please go now before some serial killer comes charging out of this place and we both end up on the news?” Roman asks, already edging back towards the front of the house.

“Sure, if you really want to give up your one shot of having your fifteen minutes of fame in the media,” Remus replies, dancing away with a grin as Roman aims a kick at his shins. “Fine, fine, we’ll go. I wouldn’t want to keep you from a hot date and some—”

Something catches his attention, a flash of movement out of the very corner of his eye, and he pauses mid-stride, doing a double-take at the second-story balcony overlooking the backyard.

Nothing. Not even a curtain blowing in the non-existent breeze.

“What?” Roman questions from where he’s also stopped a few yards ahead of him.

Remus looks a moment longer, searching for anything out of place, but all is still.

“Nothing. Probably just a bat or something. Wouldn’t that be cool as shit, to have bats as roommates? Hey, maybe they have rabies if they’re out in the daytime. Did you know…”

He launches into a spiel of the most gruesome and fascinating facts he knows about the disease, joyfully watching his brother’s face grow increasingly horrified with each one as they make their way back across the yard, and by the time they reach the driveway, the flicker of movement is barely a blip on his mental radar.

Just a trick of his eyes, surely.

It wasn’t like houses could actually be haunted, after all.

---

Home sweet home.

Or home rundown-and-slightly-musty-smelling home, as the case may be, but who was Remus to nitpick?

He fits his shiny new key into the lock and steps inside, letting the door click shut solidly behind him as he pauses just over the threshold, taking a moment to survey the foyer. His foyer now, in his very own home. The sale had been endless offers and counteroffers and a mountain of paperwork so large he’s positive he could have buried himself beneath it and never been seen again, but the place is finally his.

Him, a homeowner. Who’d have thunk it. He’ll be rubbing this in Roman’s apartment-renting face every chance he can get, thank you very much. It’s the least he can do, really.

He unceremoniously deposits the cardboard box in his arms on the floor and wanders further inside, trailing his hand along the smooth wood of the stair banister as he passes. He’s supposed to be meeting some of his friends back at his old place shortly—or now, actually, but that was wholly irrelevant—to start moving all of his worldly possessions into his fancy new abode, but he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of taking the first load of boxes alone just to have the place to himself for a bit; he could use a few minutes to enjoy the space in peace before it’s filled with Roman and Virgil squabbling about the worst Disney movie heroes or whatever argument they were bound to get into.

Despite its well-worn exterior, the house is in surprisingly good condition inside, he muses as he roams through the empty rooms. There’s clearly extensive work that needs to be done if he wants to restore the place to its Victorian glory, an ambitious undertaking he knows will be neither cheap nor easy, but the bones of the structure are all solid, especially considering how many years it’s stood empty.

He finishes his meandering loop around the first floor and heads up the stairs, the tread of his steps entirely too loud for the pervasive quiet as he continues his exploratory wandering through the second story rooms. He pauses as he reaches what is clearly the master bedroom, surveying the original fireplace, the century-old hardwood, the attached balcony that was just begging to be used to pour water onto his unsuspecting brother’s head. Shit, his new house was cool as fuck.

It’d make the most sense to start hauling his load of boxes here, considering that’s where most of his crap is going to end up eventually, but the longer he hovers in the doorway, the more something feels … off. Just the slightest tingle prickling down his spine, and not the good kind. He steps inside and the temperature drops noticeably, a chill raising the hair on his arms.

“The fuck?” he mutters, raking his gaze over the windows in search of damaged panes letting in a breeze, but everything is intact.

He advances another step on impulse and the pinpricks dancing along his vertebrae only grow stronger, now accompanied by the distinct feeling he’s being watched. He scans the room again, slower this time, but there’s no furniture, no closet, not so much as a nook or cranny for anyone or anything to hide. Even the ceiling is empty when he turns his gaze upwards on the off chance he really does have some bats hanging around that he’s somehow missed on his numerous pre-sale walk-throughs.

Nary a beady eye to be found and still the sensation of being in someone’s sights doesn’t lessen. Not that it’s a threatening feeling, exactly, just distinctly unsettling, like there’s someone behind him no matter how many times he glances over his shoulder and finds nothing but empty air.

But that was crazy. He’d read the final sale documents until his eyes had been about to start bleeding and he’s absolutely positive that the house hadn’t come with any roommates. He’s probably just imagining the feeling, the result of watching one too many horror movies in the last week or his brain making things up in an attempt to liven up the empty space.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, yanking him out of his thoughts, and he rolls his eyes without even looking at the screen, already able to see the text from Roman in his mind’s eye: where you at?? i’m not packing up all your crap for you followed by an absurdly long string of emojis that basically constituted their own Roman-specific hieroglyphic language.

Time to face the moving-day music before Roman got annoyed enough with waiting that he rescinded his promise of free manual labor, then. Any investigations of potential invisible voyeurs would have to wait, no matter how titillating such a prospect sounded when he put it like that.

“You win for now, house,” he says into the quiet as he turns to leave, an edge of coldness still dancing along the goosebumps on his skin. “Keep your secrets. I’ll figure ‘em out eventually.”

---

The afternoon passes in a blur of hauling entirely too many heavy boxes and unwieldy pieces of furniture to the new house, and by the time night settles onto the horizon, Remus is utterly exhausted. He flops back on the couch, too tired to even think about putting his bedframe together, and he’s out in minutes.

He wakes disoriented, mind scrabbling blankly for a moment before the darkness coalesces into the still-unfamiliar contours of his sitting room. He just lies there for a moment, trying to figure out what’s roused him, but all is still. Just his brain deciding to deprive him of some tantalizingly horrifying nightmares, unfortunately—

Tap tap tap.

Remus bolts upright at the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hardwood upstairs, adrenaline surging in a dizzying rush. There hadn’t been any signs of a squatter all day, and surely he’d remembered to lock the doors so no one could steal all the crap he’d just spent a whole day of his life lugging around. He waits for a moment, holding his breath as silence falls, and just when he’s about to pass the whole thing off as his imagination playing tricks on him, the steps start up again, slow and rhythmic like someone is pacing on the upper level.

Fuck his luck. If someone is secretly living in the attic of his fancy new home, he’s not going to be pleased.

He rolls off the couch and snatches his phone off of one of the plethora of boxes waiting to be unpacked, debating whether to risk turning on the flashlight before deciding for it; he might give away any element of surprise with the beam, but he’s certain to give it away if he starts banging face-first into walls or cracking his skull open falling down the stairs. His eye catches on a glass paperweight on the coffee table, a characteristically pretentious housewarming present from Roman, who apparently thought Remus had so many papers flying about that he needed to corral them with a glorified rock, and he seizes it on a whim.

Makeshift weapon was a much more useful purpose for the thing than its intended function anyways.

He edges around the scattered boxes towards the stairs, careful to keep his steps light and his hand shielding the light from his phone as the footfalls continue overhead, and makes it all the way up the steps without so much as a creak to give him away.

Flawless. He knew all those times sneaking up behind Roman to scare the shit out of him as kids would pay off someday.

He pauses on the landing to triangulate the noise, then creeps down the hall towards the footsteps as the sound grows even more distinct. The master bedroom again? What the actual fuck was going on with that room? Had he really managed to miss someone in there when he’d investigated earlier in the day? No, he couldn’t have, but then how had someone managed to get past where he’d been sleeping on the couch? Unless he really did have somebody living in the walls—

A floorboard squeaks underneath his foot, deafeningly loud in the quiet of the night, and the footsteps abruptly stop. Remus swears under his breath. Traitorous piece of wood. Now or never, then.

He lunges forward into the doorway of the master bedroom, raising the paperweight and howling a war cry as he swings his light across the room to reveal—

Nothing. The space is as entirely and utterly empty as it had been that morning.

Well, shit. There went any element of surprise he had left.

He darts back into the hall, racing to search through the rest of the rooms on the upper level one by one, but they’re all just as vacant as the first. He even hauls himself into the attic, bracing himself to be clubbed over the head by whoever is lurking, but with the exception of innumerable shadows billowing away from his flashlight, the space proves equally empty as the rest.

Unease stirs in his gut, creeping in alongside the lingering adrenaline as he makes his way back down the precariously rickety ladder into the main house. Surely there’s no way someone could have gotten past him, not when he would have heard them in the hall or going down the stairs.

And yet, as far as he can tell, besides a few mice tucked away in the attic, there isn’t another living soul in the house.

He stops in the doorway of the master bedroom again, staring inside. He’s positive this is where the footsteps had been emanating from, lack of proof be damned. Something weird was going on with this house.

Good thing Remus had just made the biggest financial commitment of his life to buy it.

Nothing for it now but to hope some elusive, wall-dwelling ax murderer doesn’t give him the chop in his sleep, he supposes, although he has to admit that’d be a badass way to go.

He reluctantly makes his way back downstairs and shoves a pile of boxes at the foot of the stairs to trip any nefarious intruders coming down, then retreats back to the couch, all the while keeping his ears primed for so much as a whisper of sound above him.

But even though it takes him a long time to drift back to sleep, the house around him remains as silent as a grave.

---

The whole thing must have been an impressively lucid dream, Remus decides the next morning. A second investigation in the light of day doesn’t reveal anything out of place: no shoe prints on the floor, no critters, certainly no people. It was probably nothing then, he tries to convince himself, just his overactive imagination needing an outlet after being a bit too jittery from all the excitement of moving.

But he finds himself pausing in the master bedroom again, something drawing him back to the space. First the chill and the strange feeling of being watched, then the mysterious footsteps? Two separate coincidences, or something more?

God, he sounded about as paranoid as Virgil. Next thing he knew he was going to be inventing his very own conspiracy theory to explain a few bumps in the night.

It really was nothing, he tells himself, shaking off any lingering unease as he tromps back down the stairs. If he starts jumping at every little noise in his old-as-shit house, he’ll be long dead before he gets the property restored. If he starts seeing glowing red eyes in the dark, he’ll start to worry. Until then, he has a mountain of boxes to unpack.

Unfortunately, said mountain does not pull a Beauty and the Beast and begin unpacking itself, leaving Remus to spend a dreadfully dull afternoon doing it instead, only the allure of building a fort out of all the empty boxes keeping him from living out of cardboard for the rest of his life.

By the time he’s finally finished unboxing most of the downstairs and getting the tv and wifi set up, most of the day has passed him by, afternoon sunlight splaying golden fingers across the hardwood.

Break time, then. He’s earned it, if he does say so himself.

He collapses onto the couch, flipping on the tv and surfing through the channels until he finds a rerun of some low-budget horror film from the eighties. Perfect. Nothing like a bit of mindless tv to rot his brain just that much more. Settling back more comfortably into the cushions, he pops open the bag of chips he’s snagged from the kitchen and pulls out his phone, beginning to scroll through his notifications.

Modern multitasking at its finest, truly.

But he’s barely a minute into atrophying his mind via social media before the tv starts flickering, volume dropping precipitously before ratcheting back up, the picture jumping to the weather channel, then a British cooking show, then the news with Spanish subtitles flashing in and out at the bottom of the screen.

Remus freezes with a chip halfway to his mouth, staring at the remote where it’s very definitely out of his reach on the coffee table, all by its lonesome. He’s no expert, but he’s pretty sure technology was not, in fact, supposed to suddenly start functioning by itself without any human input. Was his new house secretly sitting over some freaky radioactive waste? That would certainly explain why no one had wanted to buy it. Or was this some EMP disaster? Had someone decided to take out the whole country’s power grid, starting with Remus’ shitty tv?

He sits up, reaching for the rogue remote, only to pause as a chill moves over him, then past him like it’s heading for the tv, and the screen crackles, static beginning to fuzz both the video and the audio as the picture continues to leap wildly between programs.

Fuck the remote, then. Whatever freak accident has descended upon his living room, it’s time to go straight to the source.

Abandoning his snack, he stands, striding to the outlet and yanking the plug out of the wall. Silence falls immediately, the screen fading to black, but there still lingers a noticeable chill in the air, cold energy palpable against his skin and all too reminiscent of the feeling he remembers from being in the master bedroom.

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath, casting his gaze around the room. Empty, just as upstairs had been the last three times he’d checked. He takes a step backwards, then another, and the strange chill decreases. On a whim, he pulls out his phone, scrolling through several apps without even paying attention to them, and sure enough, the hair on his arms raises as the temperature falls again, that sparking feeling of energy growing more intense as his phone begins to flicker on its own.

“What the actual hell,” he whispers again. Roman can’t have been right—this place can’t actually be haunted. There’s absolutely no way there’s a real, live—or dead, technically, he supposes—ghost in his living room right now playing fuck-up-the-electronics.

But if there is…

“Hello?” he calls, and the flickering abruptly stops, chill retreating once more. Shit. One word in and apparently Remus has already fucked things up. “Hello?” he tries again. Did this maybe-possible-potential ghostie even speak English? “I’m Remus,” he says, feeling more than a little crazy for introducing himself to his empty living room. If Roman ever knew of this, he’d die laughing and then Remus really would have a ghost haunting his ass.

He wracks his brain for something to say. If he were a ghost and a stranger started moving all of their shit into his home, what would he want to hear from them?

“Um, cool house you have here. I’m not gonna like, fuck it up or anything.”

Silence.

“I’m planning on restoring it bit by bit as I have money so if you could tell me the original paint color or wallpaper patterns, that’d be dope.”

Still nothing. Apparently the ghost is not amused. Time for a different tactic, then.

“What’s your name?”

Not even a cricket chirping. Jesus fucking christ, Remus is really blowing this.

“That’s the tv—the television,” he explains, gesturing towards the device that had seemingly either fascinated or enraged his new housemate, he can’t quite tell which. “It works by… well, I don’t really know how it works. Something with waves and frequencies or some shit? But you can watch recordings, people acting or baking or doing dumb reality dating shows or whatever, so if there’s something that you wanna see…”

He trails off, surreptitiously scanning the room for any ethereal presences, but the house is quiet, the ghostly feeling fading bit by bit. Great. An actual paranormal experience and he’s gone and shoved his foot so far in his mouth he can practically feel his toes wiggling in his small intestine.

“Alright, that’s cool, no worries. Just lemme know if you change your mind.”

He waits a moment more, hoping for a disembodied voice to speak or an object to start moving on its own or his body to suddenly become possessed, but there’s nothing. Snagging his leather jacket off the back of the couch, he beelines for the door, forcing himself not to run as excitement begins to grow with every step, bubbling up around his bones. He has a ghost. A ghost, an actual fucking ghost, and he hadn’t even had to pay extra for it. No way he’s not going to take advantage of the universe handing him the sickest housewarming present in the world, never mind the fact that he might end up a walking meat suit for the spirit.

He pauses as he reaches the edge of the yard, then thinks better of it and pivots, heading for his car instead. Who knew how far ghost range was, and he doesn’t want his new roomie overhearing. He’s practically vibrating with energy as he makes his way down the long, winding drive, and he only makes it a few miles down the road before he’s pulling over onto the shoulder, hopefully well out of spirit range.

His first call rings through to voicemail, but Remus doesn’t bother leaving a message, just hangs up and tries again, only to be met with the same result. The third time, though, proves to be the charm.

“What,” the voice on the other end spits, cheerful as ever. “Fuck you, Remus, I’m in the middle of—”

“You’re still into all that weird stuff, right? Like the cryptids and the creepies and the ghouls and ghosties and all that?” Remus interrupts. He can deal with Virgil’s wrath another time—he has information he needs and he needs it pronto.

A pause, so long he’s sure Virgil has hung up on him and he’s going to have to keep calling until the emo answers his question.

“Yeah?” the distrustful reply finally comes, anger blunted by obvious wariness. “Why—”

“I need to pick your brain,” Remus cuts in again. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

---

Plan Contact The Resident Possibly Unfriendly Ghost Who Might Possess Him, or CTRPUGWMPH to be short and snappy about it, is officially a go.

Unfortunately, it isn’t off to a promising start.

Virgil’s knowledge had turned out to be more spirit lore than specifics about how to get a ghost to actually appear, although he’d been infinitely more helpful than Roman, who’d just stared at him and asked if he’d had the house checked for carbon monoxide poisoning. Remus had soundly ignored him and had left Virgil’s apartment with his head swimming with theories about why ghosts haunt particular places and an extensive lecture from Virgil about how to find any potential objects or reasons tying a ghost to the house that might provide a potential talking point to engage said ghost in conversation.

But despite digging into every crack and crevice on the internet, emailing the local historical society, even calling his realtor to ask again about the history of the property, Remus comes up with precious little. The house had originally been built in the 1880s by a local merchant, everyone seems to agree, and had been inherited by his nephew soon after, but beyond that there’s frustratingly scant information available, and he can’t find so much as a whisper about anyone dying in the home. His ghostie could be anyone, then: A Victorian builder who’d taken a tumble, a flapper girl who’d partied a tad too hard, a hapless victim of some modern serial killer who’d taken advantage of the place sitting abandoned for years to do a bit of light murdering.

With precisely zero context clues as to his new housemate’s identity, then, Remus embraces his remarkable talent of keeping up an entirely one-sided conversation as he works around the house the next few days, rambling about anything and everything related to the property he can think of, hoping something will pique the ghost’s interest. But besides a few more cold spots and flickering screens, the house remains stubbornly quiet. Maybe his ghost just needed a bit of help in communicating, though; drifting around an empty building with no one to talk to for the past god-knew-how-many years can’t have done good things to their incorporeal vocal cords.

Which brings him to Plan B: The infamous Ouija board, favorite tool of grifters and bullshit paranormalists everywhere.

And yet despite the makeshift, very high-budget seance he conducts with the two dollar board and the zero dollar candles he’s lovingly stolen from his brother, there’s once again no reply from beyond the veil besides a chill in the room that somehow radiates disapproval. Apparently his ghost isn’t a fan of pseudoscientific games any more than he is. At least they had standards, whoever they were.

But Remus is a stubborn bastard if he does say so himself, so on to Plan C it is. The used EMF meter he snags off of ebay has definitely seen better days, given the prominent crack across its screen, but the thing had been cheap and still seemed to work, so Remus wasn’t complaining. Fancy equipment was for fancy people, after all, and of all the things he’s ever been called, he’s positive fancy isn’t one of them. He sets up the device behind the tv, which still seems to intrigue his ghost every time it’s turned on, puts on the first show he can find, and forces himself to walk away. His little trap is set. Now all he has to do is bide his time pretending to busy himself unpacking a box of books in the next room—

He barely has the chance to register the tv screen flickering out of the corner of his eye before an ear-splitting shriek is rending the air, startling him so violently that he promptly drops a hefty tome on his foot.

“Shit,” he breathes, surging back into the living room, but the noise has already stopped just as suddenly as it began, replaced by a frigid chill permeating the room. Maybe he should have thought twice about scaring the resident phantom without first hiding any of his valuables. Hopefully he won’t wake up tomorrow to find his tv shattered. “It won’t hurt you,” he calls, though the EMF meter indicates a distinct lack of any supernatural presences. “It just makes noise to let me know when you’re nearby, yeah? Totally harmless.”

No response, but for once he doesn’t mind, not when there’s excitement dancing white-hot across his nerves. There really is a ghost or spirit or demon or something here, and he hasn’t just been imagining things.

Fuck, this house is single-handedly the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him, even if he does now have to worry about his haunting buddy getting a bit of revenge on him in the middle of the night.

But Remus survives safe and sound into the next day without so much as a supernatural scratch on his skin. Bloody payback didn’t seem like his ghost’s style anyways, not when their favorite activity seemed to be pressing as many buttons as possible on the tv remote at once. Curiosity is still nipping impatiently at his heels though, urging him to explore this latest avenue of potential communication more, so he sets up the EMF meter again, this time in the master bedroom where the spirit seems most inclined to spend time if the continued pacing in the middle of the night is anything to go by.

A brilliant plan, only minorly ruined by the fact that the device is nowhere to be found when he goes searching for it the next morning.

“Are you disappearing things, ghostie?” he asks the empty bedroom. “Gonna zap me into another dimension next?”

He’s joking, but as his hunt through the house reveals neither hide nor hair of the EMF meter, he can’t help but wonder. Had the ghost really just yeeted the thing into the ether? Or maybe it was right where he’d left it in the middle of the bedroom, but had been turned invisible like the spirit themself? What kind of ghostly superpowers did he even have, if any—

He comes to an abrupt halt as he emerges out the back door onto the porch, a laugh spilling past his lips as he surveys the myriad bits of metal and broken plastic strewn around him. Looks like he’s found his EMF meter. Apparently his ghost wasn’t nearly as endeared to this technology as he was anything with a screen. He glances up to the master bedroom window over his head, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Fair enough,” he calls, still fighting down amusement despite himself, and there’s the faintest shimmer in the air above the balcony, reminiscent of a heat mirage despite the cool morning air. “No more screeching little boxes.”

Left with zero information about his ghost’s identity, a useless Ouija board better repurposed as a doorstop, and the remains of his one piece of official ghost-hunting equipment, Remus concludes his only option is to embark on Plan D. Said plan isn’t so much an strategic approach as it is a wild hail mary to find any way to communicate with his ghost that didn’t involved hurling objects from balconies, as much fun as such an activity was, but then again, Plan D did sound delightfully dirty, so he’ll take the trade-off.

The internet, of course, is the place to turn to for highly questionable ghost advice, and it only takes a single google search to find message boards teeming with it. Half of it is clearly bullshit, he quickly discovers as he trawls through post after useless post, and the other half is baseless theories without any semblance of evidence to back them up, but just as he’s about to call it quits and move on to whatever the hell Plan E is, an old thread catches his eye.

‘Old Ghost Caught By Photography?’ the title reads, and Remus skims through the post, intrigued despite himself at the detailed claims the author had been able to capture the image of a Victorian spirit by using an antique camera and photography methods from the end of the nineteenth century. He pores over the attached images, searching for the slightest hint of photoshop or manipulation, but everything seems legit. And it made sense in some weird, probably illogical way, he supposes, that ghosts might only be spotted by using technology from their day and age—historical continuity in the metaphysical realm or some shit.

It’s the best lead he has after hours of searching, and really, he’s just spent a very hefty chunk of change buying a whole-ass house; what was the harm in dropping a few more dollars on some vintage photography equipment?

Which is precisely how he finds himself crammed into his makeshift darkroom in the tiny closet under the stairs several weeks later, holding his breath as he carefully begins to look through the latest batch of negatives he’s just finished processing. It had taken an obscene amount of research, a healthy dose of trial-and-error, and more than a few failures to figure out the intricacies of the dry plate photography process, but he’d gotten there in the end, even if the most he has to show for it is a few suspicious blurs in a couple of images.

Maybe this whole idea of capturing ghosts in photos was just as bullshit as the others, he muses as he examines yet another empty picture of the dining room, or maybe his ghost wasn’t from the same era as the camera he’d bought. Maybe his ghost simply didn’t want to have his photo taken, or maybe—

His train of thought abruptly derails as he picks up the next plate.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The image is still a negative, the reversed colors lending a certain eeriness to the picture under the red darkroom lights, but there, right smack in the middle of the photo—a figure. An actual human figure, clear as day, looking right at the camera. Remus whoops, nearly knocking over a vial of chemicals with his elbow as he dances backwards in pure giddiness. Oh fuck yes , there is a ghost haunting the place. His ghost, now that he owns the house. His ghost who is…

He pauses, forcing himself to focus on the figure in the photo even as he feels like he’s about to vibrate right off of his bones with excitement. Spectacles, clean-shaven, dark hair neatly styled. Neat trousers, white shirt, trim waistcoat, and a decidedly fancy ascot, the whole ensemble distinctly old-fashioned. Victorian, then? Or Edwardian? Or some historical reenactor who’d met an untimely demise in costume? And it does seem to be an untimely demise; the man looks to be in his mid- to late-twenties, unless he’d found some ability to look whatever age he wanted in the afterlife.

Regardless, he can’t make himself focus on fashion for long. He has a ghost to talk to. Fighting his way out of the cramped closet, he bounds up the stairs, forcing himself to slow to a respectable jog as he darts into the master bedroom. He stops in the middle of the still-bare room, trying and utterly failing to keep his hopes in check.

“Hello? Ghostie?”

No response.

“Mr. Glasses and White Shirt?”

His skin prickles, the hair on the back of his neck raising. Aha. There he was.

“Hey, what’s up?” He turns in a slow circle, searching for any sign of his specter, any flicker of light off a spectacle lens or a flash of a shirtsleeve, but the room is as empty as ever.

“I have a photo if you’d like to see it.” Could ghosts not see themselves in mirrors or was that only vampire lore? And if he couldn’t see his own reflection, did the ghost even remember what he looked like?

He raises the picture, proferring the negative to the vacant room, and holds his breath. Nothing, for several long moments, and then the chill edges closer. Remus bites his lip, barely able to keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of a ghost being within arm’s reach.

“I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything, I just wanted to see if you were real or if I needed to go check myself into a padded room, you know? I’m Remus, if I haven’t said that. What’s your name?”

Several more excruciatingly long moments that Remus is sure has to be the longest span of silence in history, then—

“Hello.”

The voice is thin and slightly hoarse, quiet enough that Remus has to strain to make it out, but it’s as unmistakably real as the form that flickers into existence right in front of his eyes, identical to the man in the photo. He’s distinctly transparent, the edges of him not quite defined, fuzzing out around the edges like the ambient glow of neon signs, but he’s here and he’s real and this is so fucking cool that Remus could keel over right here and now from excitement and join the ghost in wandering around the house for all eternity.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, because if there was ever a time for swearing, by god this is fucking it, and the spirit withdraws slightly, already guarded expression closing in further. “No no no, it’s good,” he rushes to assure him, resisting the urge to reach out and try to touch him. “Good holy shit. Complimentary holy shit.”

The ghost doesn’t seem entirely appeased, but he tilts his head slightly, something like curiosity sparking in his eyes as he evaluates Remus.

“Why are you not frightened of me?” he finally asks, and Remus has to fight back the absurd laugh bubbling up in his chest. He’s being questioned by a century-old ghost in the middle of his haunted home. Life really was delightfully freaky.

“No offense, man, but you’re not exactly terrifying. I mean, I’ve been here what? A solid month? And you haven’t even tried to pluck my eyeballs out or anything.”

Another unreadable pause. Is he just giving the spirit ideas? Were his eyes about to be forcibly unmarried from his skull à la eagles tearing out Prometheus’ liver?

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?” he asks after a further absolutely unbearable five seconds of silence.

“No,” the ghost admits after a moment of clear hesitation, “but previous residents certainly have not appreciated my presence here.”

Remus scoffs. “That’s their problem. Some of us are smarter than that.”

The other man’s head tilt deepens, something akin to puzzlement furrowing his brow, as if he can’t fathom why having a ghost is actually the most badass shit on the face of the planet.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Remus asks, exhilaration still racing along the underside of his skin so intensely that he can barely stand it. “You can ask me whatever you want, too.”

The ghost nods, although he still seems cautious as one hand fiddles absently with his ascot. “I suppose that would be alright.”

Twenty questions with an undead spirit. Remus’ life really was getting better by the minute.

“Did you used to live here?”

“I did, many years ago.”

“Did you own the place?”

“At one point in time, yes. It was truly a beautiful house in its day, and a wonderful place to reside.”

Oh fuck yes. If having an old-timey ghost who can give him historically accurate advice about restoring the house isn’t the coolest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t sure what is. He has half a mind to start grilling him on paint colors and wallpaper prints and the original hardwood, but—

“Did you die here?”

The words are blurting out of his mouth without even bothering to detour through his brain on the way out, burning curiosity eclipsing any thought that perhaps asking about death isn’t exactly acceptable ghost etiquette. He barely has time to register the change in the spirit’s expression, the visceral upset written across his features clear as day, before he’s gone in between one breath and the next, vanishing back into whatever thin air he’d come from and leaving nothing but a biting chill in his wake.

Shit shit shit. He’s finally gotten the ghost to trust him enough to show up and talk and then he’s gone and ruined it within the span of two minutes all because he had all the self-control of a sieve trying to retain water.

“Wait,” he calls, casting about in vain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Well, apparently his subconscious had, but that hadn’t been his intention. “Please come back. You can ask me as many invasive questions as you like.” Nothing. “You can haunt me for revenge, if you want.” Utter silence. “Are you gonna hurl me off the balcony like my EMF meter?”

There he goes again, giving the specter ideas, although really, being yeeted out of a window by a ghost would be a damn cool end if he does say so himself. He lingers in the room for several long minutes, forcing himself to keep quiet lest he miss the spirit’s hushed voice, but there’s nothing but the faint sound of a bird twittering outside.

“Alright,” he finally relents, disappointment pooling in his stomach as he glances down at the photography plate still in his hand, the negative serving as indisputable evidence that the encounter hadn’t just been a fever dream. He’ll find a way to make things right with the ghost somehow, one way or another. He has to. “Just come spook me if you change your mind.”

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @darth-does-stuff

#thomas sanders sides big bang 2023 #tssbb2023 #sanders sides #ts remus #remus sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #intrulogical #loceit #ts fanfic #the art of saying goodbye #my fic #rosepetal writes

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thehollowwriter · 3 months

Note

POOR FINN, CHRYS IS PUTTING HIM THROUGH THE RINGER

LMAO yeah! And I thought of a response Finn would give after his stunned silence at Chrysanthos'... speech? Ig?

Here we go:

He definitely hisses at Chrysanthos that it's easy for him to spout such drivel when he doesn't have to live with their constant presence every day of his life, seeing them in reflections and photos, feeling their presence send prickles of fear down his back.

That sense of dread everyone gets? Finn feels it to. All the time. That heavy, horrible feeling of doom. Of death. He knows those black, soulless pits are staring into him at all times. He can feel it.

Chrysanthos doesn't have to suffer from constant night terrors that leave him exhausted and unable to function properly, making the fear worse and causing his grades to plummet. An exhausted mer not thinking straight? Dead in the water. That's all he is.

Chrysanthos doesn't have to live in fear of Halloween, when the little terrors become visible and torment Finn further

Chrysanthos doesn't have to be viewed as some oddity, some glitch in the system. Mers don't eat their siblings, this isn't the Stone Age, after all. It is so incredibly rare nowadays.

Chrysanthos doesn't have to feel that guilt weighing on him and prickling down his spine, present in every nightmare and every waking moment.

There is so so much Chrysanthos doesn't understand, in Finn's eyes, and it's for that reason alone he should keep his mouth shut.

Finn ends up unintentionally spilling out all his feelings to Chrysanthos, and he tries very hard to pretend it didn't make him feel better.

Sorry, I had a lot of fun typing this out bc god, Finn is not doing well. He probably only considers accepting the ghosties after he overblots.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @theleechyskrunkly @cynthinesia @the-banana-0verlord @whspermy-name @officialdaydreamer00 for Finn angst galore :) (for context, Cyan's oc Chrysanthos tried giving Finn some advice regarding his siblings)

#quinn quips #quinn answers #quinn's friends #cyan #finn clearcove #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #twst oc #chrysanthos shroud

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needsmorewlw · 2 years

Note

Heya,

I really like all the ideas you have for the Quarry gang in different AUs, like the superpowers or lingering werewolf changes.

But if each one of them was a different mystical/paranormal creature in hiding, who do you think would be what? Like maybe Max and Laura would still be werewolves, but we could have a vampire, harpy, kelpie, mermaid etc.

Can either be classic monsters or mythological creatures in hiding.

Thanks for the awesome content!

HERE WE GO

I apologize for how long it took me to answer this I rly needed to think about it.

I wanted to stick with a kinda spooky theme for all of them while also picking things that I felt matched with their vibes but I'm so happy with these.

Almost all of these creatures murder people for fun but we're going Teen Wolf style where these funky kids are doing their best not to murder anyone because they don't want to, also they're in hiding.

Also turned this into a full-on story Au. Apparently I can't help myself.

👇 The Quarry counselors as mythical creatures in hiding 👇

Max&Laura

I love the idea of them still being werewolves. And I love the headcanon of them being a cryptid hunting duo even more and I think that's where they all meet in this universe. I say that like I have the ability to write a fanfic. I do not. But I'll obsess anyway.

They're both werewolves, though they look more furry than the game designs. Still big and freaky but not as gobliny

They get paid to investigate "mysterious deaths" typically caused by creatures posing as humans. They probably get paid by Travis who's just a human cop who knows that monsters exist and hide among humans and needs a way to get rid of them without seeming like a crazy person. They hunt down said creatures and that's how they meet the others.

They're all innocent but Laura and Max need to scope out their vibes before they can find the things actually repsonsible.

Emma

Emma was the first one I thought of because there's so many hot monster ladies who kill men and she just has that vibe to her, but also I was looking for a real specific energy for the love of my life.

Lamia in Greek mythology are half snake half women who eat kids. They also seduce men and convince them to give them their kids and then kill the men too. They're known to pose as performers to get attention and scope out vulnerable targets and lure them in with their ethereal beauty.

They're basically spicy land mermaids and that's on being hot. Though they're technically a type of demon. Like I said, hot.

Some stories pitch them to have mind control abilities as an alternative to seducing their victims. They can also straight up induce fear to make people leave them alone or just outright scare them to death.

They can shapeshift to change their size to be like an eight feet tall monster snake lady and also shed the snake skin to just be hot human ladies. They can see into the future and they practice witchcraft 😌🤌💕

Emma is just the local beautiful woman™. She definitely still has a YouTube channel or a Tiktok account and sometimes does her scarily accurate tarot card readings. She just lives her life doin whatever because it's pretty easy for her the hide. She travels a lot because she wants to see what the world has to offer but this makes her suspicious to the lil hunting duo who assume she's roaming around leaving bodies behind.

Laura and Max find her minding her own business. Maybe she did kill someone but if Emma was killing anyone, they definitely deserved it.

Abi

For Abi I almost went with something cutesy but I was also leaning towards something ghosty related because of how much contact she has with Eliza in the game. I just wanted her to be powerful but completely unaware of it, like it was something dormant she had to unlock and I actually had two that are basically the same thing but with very different aesthetics.

Banshees are fairy/spirit ladies who appear when you are close to death. If you can hear her wails it means someone you know is going to die or you're going to be in danger sometime soon.

Dullahan's are also fairies and are also omens of death but they're headless (lol) and ride around on horses holding their magic heads that can see massively long distances. Both are rad but I'm sticking with Banshee for now which is also a Teen Wolf thing.

She can disorient you with her scream and deafen you if you're close enough. Tinnitus all around. They also have visions of the future. (blygbank fortune teller duo)

Eventually she works out how to see and talk to ghosts but for most of her life she's just plagued with confusing dreams and gets weird feelings in certain places that later turn out to be haunted, and around certain people who end up dying shortly after.

Abi doesn't know about her powers she just thinks she has the worst luck. Every now and then, she'll go somewhere and she'll see someone get hit by a car or spontaneously have a heart attack. She aimlessly goes for walks and always ends up near where an ambulance is parked in front of someone's house or on the side of the road. Because she's always around the scenes of crimes, Laura and Max think she's their target but they eventually see that's not the case.

She's subconsciously using her powers and I think Laura and Max are the ones who tell her that she's a banshee when they realise that she's clueless and definitely not a serial murderer.

Ryan

For Ryan I was thinking along the lines of mythical creatures who kept to themselves/had some kind of camoflauge or shapeshifting abilities but most of them were tiny chaotic creatures or things that seduced humans to kill them and none of that matches up with Ryan

Then I read about djinn/jinn/genies and they seemed more like what I was looking for.👀

They're typically reclusive, only interacting with humans they deem to be wise/intelligent enough to offer their power to. They're antisocial and picky about their company just like our good good boy.

But more specifically I was thinking Ryan would be a half-djinn. Since Djinn are invisible, wispy beings with god-like powers associated with demons since they can possess humans. But their offspring pass as slender, pretty humans. Which is kinda boring but I think his eyes glow and he gets all these coloured tattoos all over him if he's in his djinn form 😌🤌

Their powers are limited to shapeshifting and psychic-like abilities where they can make humans hallucinate, experience false realities and basically just mess with their minds in general. They can also see into or interfere with humans dreams like Djinn. But Djinn cause sleep paralysis and try to possess sleeping humans.

But since Ryan canonically has one (or two depending on your hc) absent parents. It matches up with a human getting down with a potentially evil being and having a funky magic baby.

Ryan mainly uses his powers to avoid people. He's not out looking to make people go crazy by breaking their brains, he just doesn't want to be cornered into a conversation with an acquaintance when he's trying to do his grocery shopping. So he'll do some minor mind-fucking to make them forget they saw him.

It also makes it SUPER hard for Laura and Max to find him. The first time one of them try to approach him, he instinctively makes them forget him because he's too shy to talk to strangers and then they have to start from square one again. Then they come back and accuse him of messing with their brain and he gets nervous, so he messes with their brains again.

Djinn also have the silver weakness and can be killed or trapped inside anything made of silver. So there's something in common with Laura and Max. Also it's super funny to think about them trying to get proof that he's a djinn by using silver while trying to not touch it themselves.

Dylan

I really wanted something intelligence or music related for my sweet boy and as I was searching GUESS WHAT I LEARNT

Sirens! Were originally! depicted as half-BIRD MEN! Who hung out on big rocks in the middle of the ocean and sang or played music. The stories varied between them doing it to cause mischief and get sailors killed or lost at sea. Or singing to warn sailors travelling through fog that were was stuff to hit their boat on or that a storm was coming. Then later they added lady sirens (or stories with lady sirens got more popular) and stories of them exclusively trying to lure sailors in with their voices to kill them started up. Then they changed it to fish people, then some boring asshole decided that it was just female sirens who lured men to their death. Probably some lame ass who didn't want to be lured to his death by a hot man. But I'm not a coward so I'm going with the OG lore.

The idea of Dylan with wings does in fact, make me go feral. Maybe he just has wings or maybe he gets feathers on his arms and bird feet when he's not in human form but either way he's ethereal. He has super soft hair. Beautiful bird boy.

He uses his charm powers mostly for his own gain, occasionally to help his friends out. If he gets lonely he'll go somewhere and hum or whistle a song and people will immediately come over to him and talk to him 🥰 He makes music and anyone who hears it feels compelled to reach out to him in some way. He has used it to get money many times and he'll do it again. But he doesn't make people fall in love with him because that's where his morals kick in. He doesn't use his powers to kill people, he just likes the attention. Because you can't convince me that if Dylan had the ability to make people pay attention to him, he wouldn't abuse the hell out of it.

I imagine that creatures with mind control-esq abilities are immune to his charm and he gets real mopey about it. Not because he's run into a potentially dangerous creature but because he got rejected and he's not used to that.

I think he singles out Max and lures him in because he's smart and figured out Max and Laura were tracking him. Cue Laura going to save her bf and her and Dylan recreating that picture of the cat with the shit-eating grin surrounded by knives (Laura's holding the knives)

I have another similar one for Dylan but Sirens are more noteable so I went with that.

Kaitlyn

I wasn't sure about Kaitlyn. My only prerequisite was that it had to be dope. I wanted to find some way to make her a dragon then I remembered wyverns were a thing and I saw stars.

The difference between dragons and wyverns is that wyverns are smaller and bipedal. They still walk on their hands and feet but they have hand claws instead of four legs. Some of them breathe fire, others have some kind of poison smog breath or spit acid. I can see Kaitlyn's bite and claws being poison when she's not in human form.

She has three forms. A human form, a half wyvern lady form and a full on wyvern. They're smart and like collecting/hoarding things. They're independent but inquisitive and like learning about human things which works with their interest in mechanics and engineering 😌🤌

She minds her own business and rarely goes into creature mode. She's a human 99.9% of the time because she's a responsible, tax paying member of society who doesn't feel the need to randomly use her powers for any reason. But when she does use it you better make sure you're on her side because she'll whoop your ass.

I'm also obsessed with Kaitlyn and Dylan being winged buddies. I think they met from Dylan luring her in when he was bored and once it wore off, she decided he was funny and harmless enough to not immediately kill. Now they're besties, They have to be besties in every au, I don't make the rules.

Laura and Max are real careful with tracking her because they know how tough she is and I'm debating whether they even tried to do so or not. Kaitlyn could definitely immediately tell they're werewolves and vice versa. Their animal instincts clocked each other right away. I think Kaitlyn went to them to find out why they were following her and then probably helped them find the real culprits after she scares the shit out of them.

Nick

I wanted SOMEONE to be a water dwelling creature and I had good arguments for most of them. I almost made Ryan the merman but I eventually settled on Nick.

My final decision was ultimately based on Nick being an adorable Australian shark merman since Australians are all about the beautiful beaches and swimming and the coral reef and all that good stuff.

Specifically he's a tiger shark, they have stripes down their sides, they're a little stupid and they're entirely food motivated. Like they'll swim through disaster weather just on the off-chance they'll find dead things to eat when every other species of shark swims away from the area for safety.

There's a bunch of different stories about merfolk and what they're capable of in terms of shapeshifting but I'm going with the style where they can either have the half fish body or human legs whenever they want. They can live on land for as long as they want without it affecting them physically but they do feel an urge to be near water. Which is why I think Nick is a lifeguard in his spare time. He just has the vibe of those handsome, charming lifeguards.

There are stories about how merfolk would innocently try to take humans they liked to their underwater kingdoms, which resulted in the humans drowning or their lungs crushing from the sudden change in pressure because they swim down so fast. Which is so bimbo/himbo of them tbh but it makes sense they wouldn't know humans can't breathe in both air and water like they can. But that's why Nick's a lifeguard because he's well aware these humans are fragile and they need a lot of taking care of.

They can read minds which is how they talk underwater but Nick knows not to pry. He's polite. Living on land gave him human etiquette.

He has a set of human teeth and a set of pointy shark teeth that he can retract and he's real strong. Similar to the werewolves, he can smell blood and it can potentially send him into a bit of a frenzy if he's hungry or you just catch him on a bad day mentally. Luckily he's a generally happy boy and doesn't have a lot of bad days but when he has a bad day, it's a real bad day. (Future cryptid friend group HC is that Dylan or Emma have to calm him down by charming him before he goes rabid and tried to eat someone. Same with the werewolves.)

Laura and Max absolutely hate this job because it's entirely water based. The dude is constantly in and out of water and covered in water. In the end, Max literally just walks up to Nick and chats to him about the weird deaths in the area and Nick is SO friendly and helpful and after half a conversation with him they know he's not the culprit but they DO wanna hang out with him.

Jacob

I was at a loss for Jacob, I truly just had no idea he could be. We don't have any info about his family dynamics or his interests that could spawn some train of inspiration in my head like the others do and this was sixty percent of the reason it took me so long to write this.

He has a similar energy to Abi where he just doesn't know what's going on most of the time so I played off that. Eventually I decided on him being a mythical creature by proxy. As in, he's possessed by something that turns him into a monster.

Y'all heard of a show called Teen Wolf?/sarcasm

There's a being called the Kanima which is a South American myth that involves a shapeshifter in the form of a were-jaguar. It's known as a demonic spirit that brings misfortune to everyone it's near. If you're out in the woods and you keep experiencing bad luck; tripping, stuff from trees falling on you, getting attacked by animals, it's a sign that the Kanima is after you.

It has the power to posses humans or animals and it's stare can drive the recipient insane. They have a paralyzing poisonIt can't fully suppress the consciousness of the one they're possessing unless they're asleep or knocked out. The spirit is only released if the one they're possessing dies and I think this is the final chapter in this little cryptid hunting story.

Jacob went out for a walk one day, was even more unlucky than usual and didn't come home. Kaitlyn and him are definitely still friends in this universe and she started getting concerned/suspicious when Jacob popped up the next morning acting like he didn't know what happened the previous night.

Her instincts are telling her something's wrong, she calls Laura and Max and they also can't do anything. When the Kanima reveals itself they can't get close to it because if the stare and the poison. Not only that, everything goes wrong, their car breaks down, they hurt themselves in ridiculous ways, all because of the Kanima. Kaitlyn can fight him but her poison doesn't work on him and the stare would make her go crazy.

They end up calling all their new friends to see if any of them can help. Abi's new to this, she might be able to help but she's not ready for combat. Nicks strong enough to fight it and would love to help but one look from the Kanima would make Nick go into a frenzy. Dylan could pacify and lure him in but he absolutely does not want to get close to it because he'd get messed up by the poison and the stare.

At the end of the day Emma and Ryan are also demon-esq and they're the only ones immune to the poison and insanity stare. Emma pacifys him while Ryan roots around in his mind to essentially disable the Kanima so it can't take control of Jacob anymore.

Now Jacob just has the strength and speed of the Kanima. In Teen Wolf it's like a gross lizard thing but when I look up were-jaguars, they're just these big ol' hell-demon-cats so that's what he can turn into because that's sick. Parkour time for this lad.

#The Quarry #the quarry headcanons #tq hcs #emma mountebank #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #abigail blyg #kaitlyn ka #laura kearney #travis hackett #max brinly #jacob custos #nick fucillo #ask #anon #this was very fun #im absolutely in this world now #the art is all from various wikia and Wikipedia pages

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rebornologist · 3 months

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What are some of your headcanons that have changed the most over the years? :)

Hii whisp! Seeing your blog name in my notifs puts a smile on my face :’) thank you for popping into my inbox ♡

This is kind of a non-answer, but I changed a lot in the few years I’ve had this blog (since August 2021), and my thoughts on these fictional characters are heavily impacted by what I remember about their behaviour in canon and the parallels that I can draw between the character and others from experience, real or fictional. It also definitely depends on my mood, because I know that I tend to dig for feel-good takes, especially with reqs that lean towards fluff or smut. Lately, I’ve been meaning to view characters through a less light-hearted lens and find a new balance between accuracy of characterization (as accurate as fanfiction can get, anyway), digging for what’s interesting, and penning something that would please the crowd (I notice what is common with fics in popular fandoms, and I try to avoid being too generic).

To try to actually address your question, here are some solid examples of my writing I’ve reread months/years later (I generally dislike rereading my past works), disagree with, and some new opinions:

Honestly I want to rethink this whole entire petname post because Spanner is actually boring and would only call his SO ‘babe’, Reborn is most definitely the one using sappy nicknames, and Kyoko is a confirmed nickname user so I just feel straight up incorrect for that..

I used to say that Yamamoto was strictly a dom because he’s a secret control freak, but it just doesn’t check out/isn’t interesting enough for me to agree with now. He can be babygirl, as a treat. The opinions that fluctuate the most for me in general are the ones relating to romance and sexuality.

I disagree with how trigger-happy I was with the trope of matching wallpapers/trinkets with SO’s because I was a sick romantic back then and I will forever personally love matching anything with anyone.

I don’t particular disagree with these takes, but I wish the delivery of Varia kinks was better orz

I’m no longer sure the Varia would even give an SO enough grace to dote on them when they’re cramping, but I love fanon fluff too much to deny us crampy mfs the joys of being domestic with those absolutely incapable of softness.

And I won’t even mention the few times I wrote smut in prose form bc there is nothing I am less proud of I WONT DELETE THE POSTS BUT I PRETEND THEY DONT EXIST.

on a more positive note, I just fixed the link for my soft lovey dovey lil mammon headcanons and I would die for them so I’m happy with what 2022 ghostie had to say :>

#ghostie chat #hi whisp ♡

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new-revenant · 2 years

Text

DP AU idea

In this au instead of Danny as Phantom protecting his town from ghosts, we have Phantom as Danny protecting his town from hunters(and maybe some monsters). Probably not a completely original so far, but wait! There’s more.

He doesn’t live in a town full of ghosts-that’s too predictable. Make everyone different flavors of supernatural, that’s right, we’re Monster-Highing this shit up. Make Sam the psychic she was always meant to be. Make Vlad the vampire he was supposed to be. Make Val a cyborg or something-I’m leaning on the something but we’ll get to that later. The school’s still called Casper High, it’s a great name.

Now, how would Danny get to this point? Let’s say that the Fenton family lived somewhere else other than Amity Park, but they were still ghost hunters-hell, maybe just give them some relatives that are also some sort of monster-hunter. Maybe they live with Aunt Alicia or something. Give Danny curse of homeschool.

Then Danny fucking dies-ish. Same portal incident possibly. Perhaps the same half-ghost half-human boy. Maybe the Fentons think he’d just straight up died or something, but whatever happens, Danny runs away and ends up in Amity Park. Since the town is full of creatures that he would’ve definitely had tried to maim/kill/capture and then maim/kill, he adopts the ghostly persona of Phantom. Expect Phantom is just a sad wandering child spirt of a totally normal child. Definitely not a hunter.

It would also be nice for Phantom to get have normal ghost powers and not be op as fuck. Don’t get me wrong, Phantom is one of my favorite(if not the favorite)op characters. But it would be so much more interesting if most of the ghosts were just normal ghosts, but they could still be different types of ghosts(ei. Phantom being a literal phantom like he can’t be seen by cameras and stuff). Or make some ghosts some other creatures idk. Maybe a few ghosts like Desiree or however you spell her name, she’s so effective as a ghost-genie and it could potentially ruin her whole appeal and story to make her a regular genie.

Speaking of the original ghosties, I’m going to talk about Spectra’s role for a bit because she’s the one I’ve been thinking about the most. Like, she’s a ghost who can take on a human form. Cue Danny having a crisis about what the hell he actually is, and as Spectra says in the actual show, “What are you, a ghost trying to fit in with humans, or a boy with freaky little powers?” then Danny says, “I’m-I don’t know okay?!” I will forever be disappointed that the show basically never built upon that.

Anyhow, how does Danny get to the point of trying to save the supernatural as a human? Simple, like I said earlier, he can’t do nothing cool in his ghost form(besides normal ghost stuff but whatever). So he’s like, “Well then, I want to help my new friends”-because guilt and/or just wanting to be a good person-“but how can I help them when I can barely push over a book? Wait a minute-I can turn into a human!”

I’ve got more things to say about this au-idea-thing, but this is getting pretty long already so :)

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp au #I’m just trying to get my ideas across and hopping it come off coherently #revenant rambles

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dirtytransmasc · 2 years

Note

What do think the ghostie boys’s favorite candies would be?

so, I'm gonna do modern candies cause I don't know much about the 70s candy era.

Vance is the easiest in my opinion, anything vaguely spicy/cinnamon flavored. so hot tamales, red hots, cinnamon jolly ranchers that sort of stuff. I don't think he's a chocolate person all that much, he likes a little here and there, but normally it's too overpowering for him. I think he likes the fluffy gummies like the sharks, cuss ether glassic clear gummies can be a little too chewy for him (he has sensitive teeth, cause I said so)

Griffin likes sweet and sour stuff so think Mike an Ike's, sour patch kids, sour gummies. again not the biggest chocolate fan, lesser so then even Vance.

Finney likes classics, he gives me the vibes of someone who has an old man taste in candy. so the regular gummy bears, taffy's, twizzlers, chocolate bars. he really likes butterfingers and kit Kats. just the tamer more original stuff.

Bruce is kinda everywhere, he likes hard candies, he likes something he can just pop in his mouth and suck in for a while. so he'll eat sweet, sour, spicy. if he can find harder chocolate candies (like chocolate blow pops) he'll take those no problem. he also eats a lot of gum, definitely the biggest gum person in the group, and he has a gazillion different packs of all different brands and flavours for all different occasions.

robin likes chocolate, probably the most. he will steal stuff from any of the bigs cause he doesn't necessarily dislike anything. he mostly steals from Vance, claiming he has the best taste in candy (he loves Finney dearly, but his taste in candy is kinda crap), but also cause he does like spicer candy's. he also likes Mexican styled chocolate, now my white ass doesn't know much about it but I've had mexican style chocolate made with both cinnamon and chilli powder and I think it would be right up his alley (I tried finding a specific name for it and couldn't, but if someone knows please leave it in the comments so I can edit this with the right name).

lastly Billy, I don't think he has a major sweet tooth, he's more of a savory type of person, so he sticks to butterfingers, caramels, and peanut butter based candies. definitely chews a lot of gum though, and he loves crunch and munch.

bonus: gwenny likes sweet hard candies, but she just chews straight through them. so think any sort of sucker candies (that's what I've been raised calling them, they normally look like big pills or cough drops, and they come in a couple dozen flavors), lollipops, stuff like that.

#the black phone #vance hopper #bruce yamada #finney blake #griffin stagg #robin arellano #billy showalter #gwen blake

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nani-nonny · 8 months

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Reading ch 8, not going pass the title and am IMMEDIATELY smiling like a goofy, giddy idiot before trying to calm down and focus on reading!!

When i read that DMD and LCD were close to each other i for seconds forgot that " Achilles " is LCD and thought it was WDS and wondered 'hmm, what's wrong?' Until i finally remembered it's LCD and sucked air thinking 'WHY ARE YOU SO CLOSE?!? 6 FEETS FOR QUARANTINE!!'. Also DMD running away and - forcefully(?) - guiding everyone somewhere is like... A bit childish, bruh.

The fact the 4 can set up camp with no words or even glance at each other is like.. 👌🏻✨ please i need my IRL people do that.

Seeing that reunion start talking first i was thinking 'Of course he getting talk first! Old man gotta see people's tea!!'. And he asked about his name, my mind went 'oh boy! Oh boy! Come on buddy, don't show them you're 100% mama's boy, k?'.

Tho i admits i loved how big mama in reunion's time had retired.. Wonder if she's back with Splinter... And wonder if Someone took her place, maybe Donnie?

The moment he mentions ✨ After War ✨ and how everyone reacts to him ESPECIALLY LCD is just makes me go 'Aww! He's admiring him!🥺', it made my heart melt, like how kids see someone who did greater things and be like them?!

But the moment he 'bit' his tongue i was like WOW!!

Bro, the two - DMD & Reunion - are deflecting the questions as if they're playing Tennis!

WDS just result to begging is so me, feeling so done and don't want to be teased anymore and just wants straight answer. Reunion begin speechless made me think 'That's what you get for trying to sip other people's tea!!' But i liked how he used a dating sim game to describe the situation.

Now my brain went 'wait he lost everything? How? He won, his brothers are alive, the city is safe... Does he mean his childhood??'. So back to DMD giving out a short summary was good but LCD is a bit cringed or disgusted and i don't blame him! I don't think he can tell the truth but would he lies about his nickname's story??

AND DAMN IT WDS EXPOSED HIM!! Wonder what the ghosty brothers would say!!!😂 and when Reunion said 'father issues on top of mother issues?' I just laughed xD AND THE MIDDLE FINGER MAKES IT BETTER!!😂😂😂 their shenanigans is soo good! I live for this!! AND WDS ASKED FOR HIS AGE AGAHAHAHA!!!!😂😂😂

When WDS whispered 'I know' i was certain he'll gonna have to tell them about his *ahem* ear scratching! Lol.

But this chapter left me EVEN MORE EXCITED 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

This squad of peepaws is honestly bringing out the childishness that the peepaws have hidden deep behind the angst and Resistance Leader facade /j

And Reunion being a chismoso gives me *life* he has to know everyone’s business hahah!

In his timeline, Big Mama is like the granny that have those little porcelain dollies that are encased in the glass cabinets except it’s artifacts she hoarded from her big time boss era. She’s working with prosthetic legs trying to simply vibe in the weak society the turtles are trying to rebuild.

The memes!!! <333333

Old Timer is being looked up to for a brief second and it makes me happy :)))

But yes, Reunion has everything. He won the war and got his brothers back thanks to the past turtles resetting his timeline, but that doesn’t erase the fact that he had to lose everything in order to get it back. So he definitely has that lingering in the back of his mind that he often brings up in therapy. He lost the war once, and he’s glad he was able to beat it the second time around, hence his “reset”. (In simpler terms, the movie happened, but thanks to past turtles, they were able to turn back time and restart on a better note. Sadly, he and the future turtles remember dying.)

Anyways, we’ll have to see what LCD shares about his story after WDS’s turn hahah! And it should be WDS’s turn on the second night of their journey to saving the original Leo! (Next chapter)

#I’m Blue… da ba dee da…#memes for nonny #nani nonny answers #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt future leo #future leo au #rottmnt fanfiction #nonny peepaws #nonny’s corner of the peepaw multiverse

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aarcanespikes · 2 years

Text

1. Their Ghost

Masterlist

“Do me a favour Yurei, MSBY needs a manager and well… you know I can make it worth your while.”

Warnings: swearing, implied hook up

2018

Waking up to a phone call is the worst possible way to be awoken for the day. It just sets the mood for the rest of the day especially when it was a day to sleep in on.

Last night she’d been out working, doing as she normally would hidden in some shitty empty room in a building that won’t be finished being built for another three months and just watching, waiting. Like a ghost she remains unseen but present, they know she was watching them, they know they’d been found… well of course they knew, she did her job correctly and as clean as one can with a headshot made from about fifteen stories up.

Rolling over she rubbed her palms into her eyes, rubbing away the sleep crust as she did. With one loud groan she picked up the offending device (her work phone and not her personal one, how nice) and pressed answer.

“Morning Ghostie.” The familiar voice said, filled with mirth and teasing.

“What do you want?”

“What a way to greet your best friend.” She could imagine the mocking pout he had.

“Don’t let Kenma hear that Tetsuro.” She deadpanned. The man only laughed. “I want to go back to sleep so what do you want?”

“Long night Yurei?” He asked. “I have come into possession of some information that may appease you and the higher ups.”

With that the dark haired woman was up, switching her phone to speaker she began looking for todays clothes.

“Over phone information or meet up kind?”

“Meet up is preferable but the information I have at current is admittedly still a little iffy.” Kuroo admits. “I know you prefer when I have all the information but trust me this is such a strange case because of where it lies in the networks.”

“Alright… when do you want to meet?”

“An hour, meet at the usual spot?” He said. “Shit gotta go boss wants me. See you in an hour Yurei.”

With that she hangs up without so much as a goodbye, though she can imagine the indignant “Rude,” that would have followed.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

“You’re early.” The tall dark haired man said as soon as he was in earshot, his suit pristine and tailored to him.

“You’re late.” She responds. It’s always like this, small quippy and blunt- she can morph into anyone, anything yet when it’s just her, just Yurei she goes back to how she’s always been, bland and boring (as she would say). She tugs at her sweater, the red fabric stark against black jeans.

“Only by a minute, had to escape from boss’ secretary.” Kuroo laughed. “Okay straight to business then?”

“That would be preferable.” She nodded as they sat down, the bench (their usual spot in a park overlooking a pond) cold and familiar. “You know how my line of business works.”

“Yeah I know Yurei. This one it’s weird okay.” He starts, handing her a USB she will look at later that day. “It’s possible it’ll link into another agents case so bear that in mind.”

“What am I supposed to tell the others?”

“That’s the thing… okay it isn’t a possible it’s a definite. This case will need hands on and you are the perfect person for that role.”

“Tetsuro I am sensing an ulterior motive.”

The man in question gives an awkward smile.

“What do you remember about Volleyball?”

“Enough that I don’t need a babysitter… why?”

“Okay you’ll understand it all later when you read the files and pass it up to your bosses, that I promise…’’

“But?”

“Do me a favour Yurei, MSBY needs a manager and well… you know I can make it worth your while.”

Yurei could only stare, dark eyes like empty pits as her expressions changed.

“That’s –“

“Yeah, yeah I know an agent is already focused on them but I really think he need’s a hand. I already spoke to him and we both agreed you’d be a better choice considering that this mission will link to one of your past jobs.”

“You’ve really thought this through? You already asked him? Let me guess there is already a greenlight and I don’t actually have a say.” His sheepish grin says it all. With a sigh Yurei presses her thumb to her glabella, easing the oncoming headache as she looks back over the pond. “What’s on the USB?”

“More information on Lotus.” Yurei snapped her head towards the golden eyed man.

“Lotus? What does that have to do with Volleyball?”

“That’s the strange thing, we don’t know. None of my sources have found where that link lies, all we know is that it exists and it is very much real. The files have what sources I could find along with anyone I could track down as leads. Talk to your big boss after you read it all and then call me so I can set stuff up with the team.”

“Kuroo-“

“Please. One of my best friends is on that team and if something happens to them-“

“Why them in particular? What’s that link?”

“Their last manager is in that file…. As a suspect not a victim.”

“Worth my while my ass- it better not just be a booty call.” The man’s expression turned from serious to amused, he just couldn’t help himself.

“I mean I could do dinner first this time if you wanted?” She rolled her eyes. “Or we could invite hi-”

“Tetsuro…”

“Okay, okay. Yurei I promise this will help the case. There is a link and we just need to find it. I’ll get new sources on it, see if I can get any new police files that come up. I’ll make sure to give him everything too so neither of you are in the dark… just read the files, please.”

“I will… when am I supposed to meet the team?”

Kruoo’s eyes lit up, the pure glee radiating off him was far to strong for Yurei’s liking.

“Saturday at eight am please, I’ll book you a hotel so you can arrive in Osaka the day before.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you Yurei. I bet this will get us closer to getting rid of Lotus.”

“It fucking better.” She muttered. With one glance to her ‘friend’ and broker she turned and left- she hated goodbyes far to much to bother saying as such plus… she had files to read.

#haikyuu #haikyuu oc #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #hq #hq oc #hq angst #hq fluff #hq smut #yurei nakano #kuroo tetsurō

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luthien-under-bough · 8 months

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Just my opinion put personally not a fan of the astral projection thing. The angst of him being a ghosty (even in a coma) is just too good 🤷‍♂️This all started w the idea of him haunting her

My brain went there because I was thinking he couldn't technically be a ghost if he was still alive in a coma, but then I thought to myself - this is all make-believe so really I can do whatever I want. 😅 I think it would amount to the same thing - he'd able to "haunt" her as some type of invisble entity. But there is definitely something ""sexier"" about a straight up ghost.

#ghost 2 au #my asks

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monstersandmaw · 3 years

Note

Who else might young Ghostie been crushing on? (if this isn't weird for you to answer)

Oh gosh! haha. Michelle Rodriguez in Girl Fight and Blue Crush did things to me that I absolutely didn't recognise back when I was in school. Missy Peregrym in 'Stick It' also gave me another awakening. And Eliza Dushku as Faith in Buffy. Also Willow. Although not exclusive, I may have a type, can you tell?

From a literary point of view, I always found Eowyn in LOTR (less so in the films, but I still love her character) 'attractive'. I want her 'awakening' when she falls in love with Faramir quote tattooed on me because it's how I feel about Mr. Ghosti: "And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her..." I thought I was aromantic and asexual before him. Turns out you can swap and change labels to suit you as you change and go through life :). Who knew? :)

Despite the fact that my mum's life-long best friend is a lesbian (which I've always known) and has been with her partner for decades, I didn't really realise that lesbians (or in my case 'panromantic' folk) were a thing?????? I don't know how I missed that, but I did, so it never occurred to me that what I was feeling as a teenager was a genuine crush/attraction, rather than, like... admiration?? envy?? I don't know.

It was only when I got to about 16 or so that I realised I wasn't straight, and only at university did I really come to accept it. *shrug*

#personal post #ghosti's definitely not straight #took me a while #and the reasliation hit me in the face like a sledgehammer #but i'm super chill with who i am now #*realisation #i can't spell #and it's late #and i'm super duper tired

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wanda-maximoff-enthusiast · 2 years

Text

The Umbrella Academy's S/O having a panic attack

How the Umbrella Academy characters would react to their s/o having a panic attack. (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Characters included: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, Ben, Viktor

Warnings: panic attacks, mentions of drugs.

A/N: this is written by somebody who has frequent panic attacks, and I am so sorry if you do too <3

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

LUTHER

(I'm sorry this was the only Luther gif I could find)

- Bestie he panics too

- Like you start hyperventilating and so does he.

- Fr tho he's gonna be awkward dad mode and just pat your back.

(Y/N): *dying*

Luther: …want a biscuit?

- I feel like he just sits and talks at you until you calm down.

- As weird as it sounds, it is strangely comforting

- Will not bring it up in front of other people but will constantly be asking if you're okay

- Like Luther, he panics for a few seconds before rushing to help you.

- I feel like he had a ton of panic attacks as a kid

- So he'd just use some of Grace's techniques on you

(Y/N): *hyperventilating*

Diego: Hey, hey focus on me, okay? Count to ten.

- Would not leave until he was 100% sure you were okay

- He would just sit with you and stroke your hair (I LOVE HIM PLS-)

- Will actually stab people who mention it

ALLISON

- protective mum mode straight away

- will make you tea, bring you biscuits, sit and hold your hands

- hell she will sing for you if you want her to

(Y/N): *panic attack* Allison: *cuddles and lots of love*

- She starts asking if anyone hurt you in any way

- She just cares about you so so much <3

- Will look out for signs of you getting stressed and remove you from the situation

KLAUS

- he does straight up ask you if you want some drugs

- but what do we expect this is Klaus we're talking about

- he tries to make you laugh by telling you random stories

(Y/N): *very much sad* Klaus: oH! AND THEN I SAID TO HIM-

- He also had panic attacks as a kid (those damn ghosties)

- so he really really sympathises with you

- is also weirdly good at noticing when you're stressed like what

FIVE

- knows exactly what to do and exactly what to say

- because he's Five

- knows all the breathing techniques and mental exercises

(Y/N): *heavy breathing*

Five: Okay, tell me five things you can see.

- Let's be real, Five has definitely had a panic attack before

- And even if he hasn't he knows the feeling of anxiety. It isn't an uncommon feeling to him

- He may be a stubborn little man-child, but he does really care for you.

- Like Allison, he is a total mum when it comes to these things.

- Wraps his arms around you, tells you to follow his breathing pattern

- will not leave your side. at all.

(Y/N): *upset*

Ben: *shower of affection*

- I mean, he grew up as 'the horror'. I would be shocked if he never had a panic attack or two.

- He makes sure to stay very calm around you and will always be checking on you.

- Stan our octopus boy <3

VIKTOR

- Will sit with you and talk in a really soft voice

- I mean, he knows how it feels to not be able to talk about your problems

- And he would never wish that on anyone, especially not you

(Y/N): *mental torture*

Viktor: Come sit, let's talk

- The feeling of anxiety has been very common in his life.

- And he cares about you too much to let you suffer in silence

- Afterwards, you will most likely fall asleep to some soft violin music

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

im so excited for season 3 omfg

#the umbrella academy #tua #luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader #not using Viktor's deadname because ew

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