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hello, i’m red5tars but you can call me red :)
feel free to yap in my inbox about anything! i do not bite <3
i do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform which also includes any ai character sites.
used to be @/balltons
We need less power-couples and more fail-couples. A pair that individually are disasters but together make everything even worse. Not in a toxic sense, they are just both so lacking in common sense that being together creates a shenanigans feedback-loop. They will become everyone's problem.
Cw/ noncon
Ghost and the girl who turns her nose up at his smoking near her at the bus stop, who covers her nose with her delicate mohair scarf and turns away so he can see 🫣
Ghost and the girl he decides needs a lesson in manners. Who blows that same smoke in her face in the alleyway he drags her into, messing up her hair, big rough palm over her mouth. Sliding in her pussy standing, grinding his pelvis into her clit. Lecturing her on not provoking strange men in public. Is that anything?
Absolutely adore your ghost!Johnny idea lol 😍 definitely imagine he’d be giving reader trouble while she’s trying to sleep, an invisible body grinding and humping her at night. Ughhhh I just image reader having to deal with it 😭
hi nonnie, enjoy!
tags: 700 words, noncon touching, ghost!johnny won't let you sleep.
Part 4 of the ghost!johnny mini-series going on
~~~
You'd like to say that you settled into a routine. That you made peace with your ghostly friend and learned how to cohabitate in your shared living space.
That was not what happened.
He was a fucking menace.
"Johnny," you said, exasperated. You'd learned his name and he seemed bound and determined to make you say it again and again in increasingly aggravated tones. You understood that being a ghost was tough but it certainly wasn't easy on you either!
You weren't looking to sympathize with him right now, right now you wanted him out of your bed.
You threw back an elbow only for it to pass harmlessly through where a flesh and blood body would be, his arm around your waist never wavering. "Get out. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep."
He didn't budge, keeping glued to your back. It was strange—where you'd expect a line of heat instead you got a slight chill. He was there, there was space under the covers where his body would be and yet you could still feel the air from the fan touching your back as if there was nothing behind you.
"I'm tired and I'm going to bed, stop fucking around," you grumbled into the bedsheets trying your best to ignore him. You'd just started to doze off when you felt his hand creeping under your shirt to cup your breast. He held it in his palm like a stress ball, rhythmically kneading it, playing with its plushness.
You jerked awake and away from him so hard you almost made it off the bed.
"Stop that!" you screeched in shock. You heard him chuckle but he was incorporeal right now and not visible, not even a lump in the blanket anymore. It left you darting your gaze left and right trying to find him.
After a minute or two you climbed back into bed, hopeful that he was done and would leave you alone now. The quiet embraced you, lulling you in deeper and deeper. Your bed was warm and your bedroom was cool, the slowly circulating air filling your lungs with each breath. The chill darted along the skin down your throat, almost like someone was dragging their lips along it. A gentle caress you couldn't help but fall deeper into, your chin dropping down in your sleepy doze to give more room.
The chilled press trailed down to your shoulder, toying with the skin right in the crook of your neck. The soft barely there touches were about to send you off, sleep beckoning right around the corner. You were taking that final step when teeth nipped at the thin skin and it felt like a jolt of electricity as you realized at once what was going on.
Your knee crooked up, ready for you to lunge out of the bed when you felt a great weight settle over your back, pinning you to the mattress.
A rapid huff left your lungs as you were pressed into the bed, eyes shooting wide as you attempted to scramble forward. The weight along your back and legs made that impossible. The force too heavy to budge.
Johnny! wheezed out, lungs fighting to reinflate. You gasped when he finally shifted, lifting off you to manhandle you back into position on your side.
"Now stop fussing, living people need their sleep and it's bed time." burred into your ear. Like you were the one keeping him up, the one instigating all of this. If he would just make his way out of your bed there wouldn't be a problem. But you didn't say anything.
You didn't even say anything when his hand made its way inside your shirt again, reaching up to resume its previous positioning. Your back went ramrod straight, breath hitching as you debated telling him off. You were just so tired though.
You fought it for a time before deciding to pick your battles. You had an early day tomorrow and you really needed to get to sleep. And it was already so late, your eyelids felt like they had weights on them, dragging them down.
So you made peace with it. Ignoring how he was holding your chest in order to finally sleep. You'd deal with the repercussions in the morning.
this was supposed to be shorter.
cw: rimming, bullying mention, price is an ass, rwader is an ass (in a “are what you eat” type of way)
you, a measly private who has been relentlessly pushed down by the man who was supposed to teach you the ropes, guide you to greatness and he has done anything but. everyday you’re made to look like a fool in-front of your comrades, price nit-picking every single thing you do. it’s unbearable.
Putting Simon in this outfit as a joke, thats how it started only to do his makeup in pink goth and very much matching nails to his top, he laughs and says it's time to get out of it you had your fun and now hours later hes head down ass up getting pegged by his lil bird cause he just looked so so good. ~ local pocket dragon will send a follow up on lunch.
i love this, absolutely splendid.
and he’s the biggest bottom bitch ever, tip leaking as you stretch his hole loose. it’s surprising this is his first time considering how easy it is to slam deep into his ass. kissing his glossy lips as you thrust home, enjoying the sweet sounds he produces when you press on his prostate.
yeah. need that.
Hi red!!
Top three sandwiches
And
Fuck marry kill - cheese, potatoes, coffee
<33
hi three!!! hope you r well
my top 3 sandwiches omg
1. breakfast sandwich - pan-toasted french toast, bacon, egg, and cheddar or american cheese 🙂↕️
2. italian - like the generic ones from jersey mikes.. i love it
3. jollibee chicken sandwich - self-explanatory.
also, thats foul three.
firstly.
kill - myself because how dare you make me choose
marry - coffee. can’t live without her
fuck - cheese and potatoes without a doubt.
too 3 favorite tropes you didn’t expect to enjoy so much once upon a time 👀
thats a hard one temp 😞
1. dark fanfiction in general - i wasn’t necessarily a puritan or anything but when first getting active i was pretty adverse to it. now, i’m obsessed.
2. sci-fi aus - i was more of a fantasy person initially, and while i still do like it more i’ve come to appreciate sci-fi fics (fear of god by ceil really pulled me in. i recommend reading it even if one isn’t big on sci-fi)
3. angst - kinda goes in line with dark fanfiction but i’m obsessed with putting reader and characters in heartbreaking situations is like my sustenance now
kinda vague and not really specific tropes but i cannot come up with anything else 🙂↕️
So send me asks about:
Oh for fuck’s sake, people calling out racist writing in fanfic isn’t “censorship”. I say this as a fic writer but some of you need to get off your high fucking horse.
Truly some of the most irritating culture has sprung up around fanwork and fanfic in specific like… no, making something for free does not in fact make it sacrosanct or immune to criticism! Your right to “do whatever you want forever” or say “fandom is for fun” stops the second you’re being bigoted and making fan spaces unsafe for marginalized people!
"fandom is for fun" except for poc who have to deal with rampant racism and white people unable to acknowledge let alone take accountability for their racism
Got bored so here's the Simon Riley
I love my army wife
i was talking w @xoxunhinged about reader thinking jealousy would look good on Kyle— just his color, you'd decided, and in a silly little thought fueled by the haze of too many drinks, you'd assumed it'd be harmless enough, batting your lashes at some unfortunate guy, imagining Kyle's reaction— a protective arm slung around your shoulders, his sharp glare cutting through the air like a warning.
but there's a dark, quiet danger to him, the kind that you don't see coming until it's too late, like the chill of steel against your skin before you even realize it's there. your drunken mischief spirals, fast and merciless, and before you can process what's happening, wrathful hands drag the man out of the place, leaving you behind, frozen in a stunned silence.
you'd expected at most a sharp word or two, something restrained, a reminder of the line that had almost been crossed, not waking up to find that guy as a headline, his face staring back at you on the television, frozen in a grainy photo, deceased, the ends to that investigation tied too neatly.
your eyes drift to his hands, nimble fingers screwing off the cap of the bottle of orange juice, and you see what you missed last night, when he'd wrapped those same hands around your throat as he swallowed every keen and moan. the bruising. it blooms dark and angry across his knuckles, the skin split in certain places, swollen and raw. they look like they've been through war.
his voice breaks the silence first, metal against stone. "a shame." the very ground beneath you shifts, a chilly unease creeping into your bones, the pit in your stomach growing, knot in your throat twisting tighter as your mind races with questions you refuse to voice. confrontation would mean peeling back layers you're not ready to see. so instead, you redirect, grasping for something mundane, something safe.
"what do you want to eat for breakfast?" it comes out warbly, uncertain, but it's all you can manage.
warmth returns to his voice, tone laced with a quiet tenderness as he answers, "whatever you want."
(his loyalty runs deep, his love as consuming as his fury. best to remember he does nothing by halves— it's all or nothing. when you're his, you're his completely.)
