#it will get funnier the more it happens trust me

[saglaophonos]

good omens american roadtrip bit where aziraphale has to be the one navigating for them in the passengers seat but keeps forgetting to mention theyve driven by exits they needed to take miles ago. and when i say bit i mean that it happens at the end of every single scene in the car

[twilightkitkat]

I know people normally brand Wade as The Funny One, but can we talk about how they'd be as a comedic duo? While flirting? While fighting?

People oftentimes tend to stereotype Logan as The Straight Man, the guy who keeps a serious face no matter what. And while sometimes that can be true, if you look at his characterization in the movies and comics, that isn't always the case. I think that because his humor is more subtle and down-to-earth than Wade's they tend to overlook it entirely.

Wade's humor is more obnoxious and in-your-face. He uses a cheerful, dramatic tone to cue you in that he's trying to be funny. He makes pop culture references and rambles on and makes constant, non-stop commentary. He's meant to be entertaining and funny because it's his brand to be insane and nonchalant even in the face of danger.

Logan, on the other hand, has this very blunt, sarcastic humor. The type that requires you to think a second to get it. He'd make little quips and jabs, but either with a straight face or barely there grin, so it's harder to tell he's joking. His tone of voice is more deep and gruff, which we don't typically associate with being humorous, but he does tease enemies and joke and throw their lines back in his face and goad them.

These two together would drive everyone up the wall.

Everyone (the X-men, the enemies, Wade's friends) assumed that their interactions would be Wade making crude, obnoxious jokes and Logan telling him to shut up or acting annoyed but... that doesn't happen? Instead, Logan quietly laughs at Wade's antics or, even more shockingly, joins in.

Logan gets Wade's humor—relishes in it, even. He would find Wade funny when he makes stupid jokes at all the wrong times because he does it too but nobody pays attention because it flies over their head or he's too intimidating for them to really register his words.

(The only reason Logan was more serious in the movie was that he was a grieving, broken man who thought he was responsible for the deaths of his family. He felt completely alone. And yet, even then, he played along to some extent with Wade's jokes and acted baffled rather than genuinely annoyed unless it was a super inappropriate moment. And you could tell he found Wade funny and liked him talking by the end of the movie.)

These two would be sitting across the table and Wade would make some stupid joke and Logan would add onto it, straight-faced.

Wade would gasp and clutch his chest dramatically at someone taking the Ketchup from him before he was done and whine, "How could you!? The betrayal! I thought I could trust you, this is a crime of the highest degree! I should have you canceled on Twitter for the atrocities you just committed."

And Logan would shake his head, stoicly, and reply, "It isn't cool to steal, man. It feels good in the moment but you hurt other people."

And everyone would sit there like what the fuck? Did Logan just... play along with Wade?

(Logan was biting his cheek to not grin at their confused faces and Wade was practically cackling to himself.)

It'd be even funnier when they're fighting villains together.

"Watch out, babygirl! Daddy's going to save you!" Deadpool would scream, as he lunges in to stab the enemy as they have Logan pinned to the ground.

"Well, 'Daddy' needs to do a better fucking job at it," Logan would grunt as he threw the guy off himself.

Logan would be snarky, because that's his personality and sense of humor, but he'd play along. He'd commit to the bit so hard that the enemies would stop attacking for a second just to look at each other like, "Are you seeing this???"

"Wolvie, what did I tell you about your greasy tits? If you wanted to be a prostitute you could at least tell me so we could start an Onlyfans and monetize it," Wade would say after Logan's shirt got shredded in a fight.

"I'm not giving you a fucking cent of my Onlyfans money," Logan would grunt as he continues fighting.

"That's unfair! I'd be the best photographer out there, you need to pay me my fair share! This is a worker's rights violation!"

"Yeah, well, I'm the pornstar. I'm the one doing all the heavy lifting, you aren't entitled to shit."

And everyone would be like???? Did The Wolverine have an Onlyfans? Since when? And where could they find it—

It'd be funny to see them tear down the self-esteem of a villain together as they fought them.

"You look like Simon Cowell got dipped in a vat of acid and then grew out a mullet and got it cut by a 5-year-old on America's Got Talent just because their mom died of cancer," Wade would laugh and point at their appearance.

"That's being generous. At least Simon Cowell was attractive. More like a fucking muppet," Logan would add on.

And then they'd fight over whose interpretation was correct while the villain just stood there and took out a mirror to look at themselves because?? They didn't think it was that bad?? (It was.)

It'd actually give them the edge in fights because they'd baffle the villains so much. They'd either make them pissed off at not being taken seriously and therefore more sloppy, or just make them insanely self-conscious. Win-win.

Eventually, word on the street got around that Wolverine and Deadpool were a brutal duo. Verbally. There'd be villains telling stories about how they were disrespected and maybe an emotional support club "Fought Deadpool and Wolverine and survived on the outside but died on the inside."

They'd be a peak comedy duo that would become notorious for their chemistry (both in their fighting style and commentary).

[neowinestainedress]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒��𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again.  Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask. 

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody. 

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro. 

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside. 

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.  

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver. 

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever. 

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him. 

What’s on the other side is worse. 

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture. 

“Surpriiise!!” 

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting. 

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck. 

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.” 

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh. 

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?” 

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.” 

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?” 

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt. 

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle. 

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.” 

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed. 

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.” 

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin. 

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on. 

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up. 

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead. 

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.” 

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.” 

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.” 

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens. 

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.” 

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different. 

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.” 

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.” 

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?” 

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.  

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.” 

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be. 

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.  

“Why?” 

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour. 

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?” 

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?” 

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat. 

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?” 

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.” 

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction. 

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?” 

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away. 

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?” 

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought. 

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?” 

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow. 

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.” 

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you. 

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.” 

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself? 

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again. 

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department. 

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans. 

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?” 

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.  

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?” 

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.” 

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.” 

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.” 

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop. 

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” 

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle. 

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?” 

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again. 

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?” 

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?” 

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not. 

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.” 

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again. 

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair. 

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.  

You gulp and automatically close your legs. 

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.” 

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —” 

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest. 

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.” 

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating. 

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.  

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.  

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.” 

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.” 

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?” 

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right? 

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.” 

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be. 

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.” 

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.  

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving. 

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass. 

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette. 

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down. 

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?” 

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?” 

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.” 

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.” 

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.  

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.” 

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.” 

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.” 

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” 

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.” 

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.” 

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward. 

“We didn’t kill anybody there.” 

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?” 

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?” 

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you. 

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.” 

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down. 

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask. 

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly. 

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to. 

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.” 

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.  

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie. 

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.” 

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.” 

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.” 

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky. 

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip. 

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you. 

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.” 

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones. 

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly. 

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?” 

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ” 

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person. 

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.  

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?” 

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds. 

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.” 

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment. 

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.” 

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.” 

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done. 

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.” 

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly. 

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?” 

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess. 

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words. 

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.” 

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity. 

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?” 

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?” 

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.” 

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.” 

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again. 

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn��t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin. 

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust. 

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair. 

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs. 

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.  

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly. 

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it. 

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?” 

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation. 

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?” 

“No,” you mumble.  

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” 

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly. 

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?” 

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.” 

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.  

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.” 

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.” 

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it. 

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.” 

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?  

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans. 

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?” 

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?” 

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now. 

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.” 

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe. 

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven. 

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.” 

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should. 

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place. 

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.” 

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet. 

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.” 

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see. 

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note. 

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ” 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Cool ass party

Miguel Diaz X Female! Reader

!SPOILER WARING FOR COBRA KAI SEASON 6!

Summary: When Miguel goes to the frat party, he's far from thinking he's going to get the girl.

Warning: Use of Y/n/ violence/ swearing/ mention of blood/ alcohol/ kinda heavy makeout/ Google translte spanish/ mention of body parts?/

Word count: 1.2k

To be honest, I didn’t know why I followed Miguel, Demetri and Hawk at the college tour. I didn’t even know which college I wanted to go to, but still, I followed the guys while a random dude walked in front of us. ‘’You really think we got a chance at M.I.T?’’ Demetri asked us. I looked at Miguel with an ‘His he for real?’ look in my eyes. ‘’Dude, you guys are the Binary Brothers, if M.I.T don’t accept you, they’re stupid as fuck’’ I exclaim with a laugh in my throat. Hawk smiled as we looked around. ‘’Y/n, are you considering coming with me here?’’ Miguel shyly asked. I take a deep breath as I look at the ground.

Before I can answer, the tour guide gets tackled on the ground by two familiar faces. ‘’Kyler? Brucks? What the hell?’’ Demetri mumbles as we connect the dots. ‘’Rhea? Lip, Lip’s friend? Weird chick?! What are you guys doing here?’’ Kyler exclaimed.

After catching up with our ‘old friends’ and eating, Kyler decided to bring us to our first frat party. I usually avoid frat house’s parties, but since I was with guys that I trusted, I decided to go. I wasn’t dressed to go to a party, but who cared? As we entered the room, I stick with Miguel, plus he was my crush, so it was another reason to stay with him. Frat boys everywhere, sorority girls glued to them, alcohol, smoke and the smell of sex filled my nostrils and my eyes. ‘’That’s something’’ Hawk exclaimed, making us laugh. ‘’Let’s just, lay low, stick together and keep an eye on your drinks. We’ll be fine’’ I try to convince them.

There was a blur between the time we arrived and now, why Miguel was sticking up to Kyler was confusing. But what was more confusing was the way Miguel’s body and mine moved together. The way his hands traveled my body in a sky but sensual way. When I turned to face him, our mouths were almost on the other. I could feel his breath on my skin. The look in his eyes was almost enough to get me to throw my self control out the window. I kept looking at his eyes and his lips, I needed to kiss him. As I leaned forward, something stopped us. ‘’Where’s my vacuum?!’’ The asshole in ‘charge’ of the frat yelled, referring to Kyler. Miguel and I turned our head to our ex-bully. ‘’Men, I ain’t gonna clean that’’ Kyler tried to stand up for himself. My dance partner and I made our way closer to Kyler, in case something happened. We were joined by Hawk and Demetri, who were as clueless as we were. After Kyler tried to tell the guy off, again, things got heated, and Miguel stepped in. ‘’Enough!’’ he yelled, getting everyone’s attention. Someone stopped the music, making it more dramatic. Kyler got up from the floor, cleaned his mouth from the dirty food he picked up. ‘’Why don’t you tell him the truth?’’ Miguel confronted the frat ‘king’. ‘’The truth about what, man?’’ Kyler asked. ‘’Well, we had a good run, but you’re never getting into this frat’’ the douchebag said.

Kyler took a second to think before he grabbed a girl’s drink before pouring it on the guy’s head. I had to refrain a laugh as Hawk ate popcorn because of how good the entertainement was. The douchebag, who’s ego got hurt, tried to punch Kyler, but he was quicker and blocked it. ‘’Bitch, don’t you know, I know karate!?’’ he exclaimed before pushing the guy on a metal pole.

And there it was, another karate brawl. But this time, it was funnier than the others I’ve been apart of. Demetri, Hawk, Miguel, Kyler and I were all working together, it was amazing. But, at one point, guys started to land punches on me. But with the adrenaline, I didn’t feel any of it. ‘’Let’s go before campus security comes!’’ Kyler exclaims. As we all ran outside, I burst out laughing. ‘’That was a cool ass party" I yell, laughing. Miguel, for some reason, puts his arm around my shoulder as we ran across campus.

‘’Oh, you’re bleeding’’ Miguel said as we walked home, I lived two streets away from him. ‘’Your hair was in the way, that’s why we didn’t notice, and your lip too.’’ He says as he innocently touches my lower lip. Realizing what he’s doing, he quickly moves his hand away. ‘’I’m sorry, I, uh.’’ He stuttered. I smile as we arrived in front of his apartment block. ‘’You’re bleeding too, do you need help cleaning it up?’’ I suggest. Miguel nods and leads the way to his apartment. No one was home.

‘’It was a hell of a Superman punch.’’ Miguel complimented as I put butterfly closures on his wound. I blush and look down. ‘’All done’’ ‘’Good, it’s your turn now’’ Miguel orders. I sit on the bathroom counter as Miguel picks what he needs from the first aid kit. I look at him and smile. ‘’What’s with the smile?’’ he asks, smiling too. He delicately starts to clean the blood of my forehead, next the one on my lip. ‘’I enjoyed myself today. It was nice dancing with you’’ I whispered. Miguel blush and gets back to his task. ‘’I enjoyed dancing with you too.’’ He says back, with a flirty tone. While he works on my forehead, I say nothing, the tension in the small bathroom speaks for itself. The way we maintain eye contact speaks for itself. His brown eyes are deeply into mine and my self control is about to expire.

‘’This might hurt’’ he warns before disinfecting my lip. ‘’Y’a know, if I was a random girl, I’d ask how you know so much about fixing lips. But each time you get into a fight, I’m there’’ I chuckle. Miguel smiles. ‘’Yeah, and each time I think you look good kicking everyone’s ass’’ he flirts back. I almost fold, but I love to flirt with people. ‘’You think I look good, Diaz?’’ I reply. Seeing how red he turned when I called him by his last name, it's something I’m going to do again. ‘’Of course, I don’t think there’s anything hotter than you kicking someone’s ass.’’ he moves a little closer to me. His thumb caresses my lower lip as he uses the triangle method on me, which works. ‘’You wanna kiss me, Diaz?’’ He swallows pretty hard, but still keeps his composure. ‘’Please, you have such pretty lips. I really want to kiss you’’ he whispers, millimetres away from my lips. ‘’Then do it, Diaz’’ I mumbled before I lean in, our lips finally touching.

The kiss got heated pretty fast, Miguel’s hands making his was on my body fast. The only time we pull away from each other is to take our breath. The kiss leaves us breathless, our chest rising up and down as his black curls are getting messier and messier. ‘’I wanted to do that for so long’’ Miguel said with his dry throat. Our lips collapse together again, I wrap my legs around his waist as my hands tugs his hair. One of his hands make his way on my thigh, getting dangerously close to my wet core.

‘’Hola, ¿hay alguien en casa?’’ Miguel’s grandma announces as she enters the house. ‘’Shit, my grandma. I thought she was at the grocery store’’ Miguel babbles as he tries to fix himself. I giggle and fix my hair. ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll sneak off by that window.’’ I smile, looking at the small window. He tries to come up with an apology, but I cut him. I slide off the counter and place a quick kiss to his lips. ‘’You can apologize for your grandma later, I’ll leave my window unlock tonight, Diaz’’

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 12 . Henituse

a/n: eating a lot of shellfish for my anemia made me feel better but everyone around me says I'm still pale asf T-T also ngl I don't the way I wrote this chapter but I'm too sick to redo it sorry huhu

tags: very vague hints of abuse near before the end

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

Days pass and it’s now mid-November. To others, it just signifies the start of winter. Signifies the extreme cold that’s about to come. 

For Cale’s group and the Whale Tribe, it signifies the start of battle. Signifies that they must now obliterate Arm’s First Battle Brigade.

Where does _____ fit in all of this?

Besides Cale, that’s where.

After their talk, the healer became practically glued to Cale with the man saying all kinds of reasons to take them everywhere.

In this particular case, his excuse is that they need to have a healer in case of an emergency.

Hannah snorted at the blatant excuse curated by the young master.

What makes it funnier for her is how after insisting they need a healer, Cale just went ahead and gave everyone potions after the battle.

“Why are you giving me a potion? I thought that little healer of yours didn’t have purification powers, I’m sure they can heal me.”

Cale frowns as if it’s a sin to even mention _____.

“_____ is still at the ship. I can’t have them out of commission so early so make do with the potions.”

“Human you’re lying again! I definitely heard you say on the way here that kind _____ shouldn’t see such a messy sight!”

As Raon spoke in his mind Hannah also burst out laughing.

This made the redhead turn around to leave. His frown etching deeper into his face as the two unknowingly gang up on him.

Everything goes smoothly. 

Of course it does, Cale’s planning is always top-notch.

They managed to win against Arm’s First Brigade. They managed to take the remaining ships, Cale also managed to get permission from his father to let the Tiger Tribe stay in Harris Village.

But Cale is still not happy.

This is because he has to go to the empire. A place where the Sun God’s church influence is strong. The one place he can’t take _____ to.

It’s dangerous if someone, like a priest, discovers who they are. It’s still too early to let _____ back out into the world. Too early for them to fight their battles.

So when Count Deruth asked Cale if _____ could stay at the Henituse castle he allowed it. He may not be sure why his father is asking for the healer but he knows nothing bad would happen. It would also be a good opportunity for _____ to socialize more. Cale has noticed them trying to initiate conversations so meeting new people would probably be good practice.

What doesn’t know is that Hans had a hand in making this invitation come true.

Needless to say, the influence wasn’t direct. It’s just that every report the butler made included the healer which made Cale’s parent’s curious. It was also obvious that Hans thinks the two have chemistry so the Count and Countess wanted to take a look.

The whole family is aware that _____ is alive and in hiding. Aside from them a minimal amount of very trusted servants have also been informed. These servants are the most loyal to the family and in turn have been chosen to directly serve _____ during their stay.

Basen, in particular, has heard his parents talk about _____. He has heard them speculate about whether or not the healer will get together with his brother. And so when he met them he had full intentions of checking whether or not they are worthy of his brother.

Meanwhile Lily was none the wiser. All she knows is that the pretty healer must hide their face because bad people are out to get them. That and their abilities are amazing, she still remembers that refreshing feeling she felt when _____ healed her before.

With different intentions, the siblings went to greet the healer after their parents did.

Lily instantly got along with _____. Meanwhile, Basen and his parents nodded in approval..?

Approval of what? _____ doesn’t know. They’re just glad that everyone is kind.

The entire Henituse family, including Cale before he left, told _____ to just roll and play around. Treat their stay at the castle as a vacation. 

Give _____ some credit because they tried really hard to follow their words.

However, they only lasted 3 hours before they were on their way to get permission to assist the knights' training.

Good thing Cale saw this coming so he informed Count Deruth in advance how _____ has a strong sense of responsibility.

The Count approved of them healing the knights but not replenishing their energy. _____ understands as they know stamina and endurance are important virtues to being a knight.

Another thing that Count Deruth noticed is how the healer seemed interested in administrative paperwork. Coincidentally, it was also how everyone found out that they’re a fast reader and learner.

“Healer-nim[1] are you interested in administrative work?”

The Count asked the next day while they were all eating breakfast.

“A little bit, but more than that I just noticed that the documents here look different from where I came from.”

Excuse me what now? How could they immediately tell that there was a difference when they only saw the document for half a minute and they weren’t even that close to it?

“You managed to read all of it?”

“Ah, I’m sorry was I not supposed to? I only read the first page because the rest was covered…”

Basen who couldn’t help but ask reassured _____ that those are public documents so it was fine to read them.

“...That’s so weird. In my previous place, they hid things like that. The ledger here is also different…”

Now that got Deruth’s full attention.

“How so?”

“Back when living with the Perduellios, I saw their ledgers a few times. Unlike here, the ledger there seems to have lapses in entry, but they aren’t very noticeable. Then they have two sets of ledger? I’m not sure why though maybe the people there aren’t as skilled as Basen so they need a trial ledger…”

That…

That’s definitely a textbook case of either fraud, tax evasion, or embezzlement. Or possibly all three. 

Not that _____ would know because they never received proper education.

Speaking of their education…

“Healer-nim may I ask how did you learn to read and write?”

Countess Violan asked politely.

“I learned by accident. My room was where they used to put books that were for donation. They didn’t renovate it fast enough so I managed to check out those books. Then after a few days, I accidentally memorized the alphabet.”

This…

Doesn’t this mean they have a genius on their hands?

They let the topic go and switched to more lighthearted ones, like whether Cale is treating them well, as breakfast progresses. However, the Count and Countess didn’t forget about what they talked about.

That afternoon the Count sent sample administrative documents as well as beginner books to _____’s room. He also told the healer to come to him or Basen if they had questions or wanted to learn more.

Meanwhile, Countess Violan took it upon herself to teach the healer noble etiquette. With _____’s permission of course.

And that’s how _____’s stay in the Henituse Castle became an impromptu how-to noble 101 lessons.

_____ isn’t sure how this happened but they're just happy to be a part of whatever’s happening.

Aside from learning and healing _____ also plays with Lily whenever the young girl has free time. More often than not Lily would spend her downtime looking for the healer and asking them to do more light tricks. To which _____ is more than happy to do so.

So their schedule is as follows:

In the morning they would eat breakfast with the whole family.

After breakfast, they would either learn etiquette from Countess Violan or read the books Count Deruth gave them.

Then after lunch, they would either help heal the training knights or play with Lily.

It’s vastly different from how _____ spends their day with Cale but it still felt fulfilling.

However, the healer still felt more comfortable at the super rock villa.

This was because their movement was pretty restrained in the castle, unlike in the underground villa where they could wear whatever and go wherever they wanted. They can only roam around inside the castle and they can rarely let their guard down.

But it’s still fun.

_____ likes the new experience it brings. They like the new things this family is teaching them.

Plus it’s not like they were isolated because they could still talk to the servants assigned to them.

“Young master-nim, you've already perfected tea etiquette? That’s amazing!”

The healer's cheeks are dusted a soft pink hue at the maid’s compliments.

“Ah please refer to me by my name or just healer, I’m not a young master…”

“Nonsense! Young master _____ is a young master!”

_____ feels like they had the same conversation somewhere else before…

“However, was young master-nim born with the gift of learning fast?”

Lily, who was on her way to play with _____ overheard the conversation.

“Hmmm, I guess to some extent? Even before I was adopted people have told me I pick up things fast. But I’m not sure if those were empty words because my adoptive family still deemed my learning speed slow.”

The maid styling _____’s hair made a noise of protest.

“There’s no way that’s the case! I bet they were just jealous that young master-nim is a genius!”

“Huh? Me a genius? Ah no, no. There’s no way. When I was a kid I was punished because I can’t learn things in one go… I think someone like Lily-nim is a genius, not me.”

The maids and servants attending _____ began protesting about how both Lily and _____ are geniuses.

Lily then decided that she had eavesdropped enough and finally knocked on the door.

“Ah young master Lily, please wait a moment young master _____ is almost done getting ready.”

That evening, as Violan tucked Lily in, the girl spilt what she overhead to her mother.

In turn, Countess Violan told Count Deruth.

Then Count Deruth told Cale after he got back from looting- investigating the empire.

“Huuu, they just keep adding more sins to their list.”

Count Deruth did not comment as he heard the angriest sigh leave his son’s lips.

“As we talked about before I’ll let you handle the Perduellio family. Just talk to me if you need anything and I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you.”

The two talked a bit more before they both left the Count’s office. As they turn into a corner they see _____ playing with Basen and Lily.

“Cale! You’re back! I heard what happened at the empire, did everything work out fine?”

Ho? So Hans was telling the truth when he said Cale and ____ have been on a casual first-name basis since a month ago.

Another thing that Deruth noticed was how his son’s face relaxed at the mere sight of the healer. It was as if he was never angry in the first place.

Deruth Henituse approves.

Cale and _____ hadn’t even gotten together yet, much less have asked for his approval.

Nonetheless, Deruth Henituse approves.

[1] I'm honestly not very knowledgeable about kr name honorifics, I only grew up learning the fil and jp ones so I'm unsure of this one like... I feel like Deruth's status is too high for him to address reader with nim but it also feels awkward if I don't put an honorific at the end... send help

[crippling-pages]

Rayni should've been a 12 year old.

For starters,

SHE'D BE SOOO MUCH MORE FUNNY literally everything she's said so far would've been 10x funnier if it was spoken from a 12 year old's mouth. "you're just fosters back up" its funny but funnier coming from a little kid.

LITTLE SISTER TO TAM!!! AND OH MY GODS LITTLE SISTER TO LINH!!! LINH WOULD GIVE HER THIS BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE BUT EVENTUALLY THEY'D START GETTING ALL GIRLY AND CLOSER LIKE SISTERSSSSSS KJNBIHKW

imagine how it would've been for Tam tho. meeting her for the first time. imagine your a prisoner being tortured but then suddenly a 12 year old comes up to you and is like 'what up !@#$."

12 year old rayni would have a potty mouth and it would be HILARIOUS

Rayni is already savage but trust me, she'd be even more savage as a 12 year old she'd be like the 12 year old fitz haters on pinterest

"but we're cong-"

"NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. CONTINUE THAT SENTENCE YOUR GONNA GO TO JAIL BUDDY"

ok so maybe she wouldnt say something like that but here's a reminder; she's 12. 12 year olds would 100% say this.

wait omg imagine there's a sophitz or a sokeefe moment and we get the "EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW THATS SO GROSS" or even worse its something not PG

or

or better yet

its a tiana moment i could just finish that there tbh and because its tam, aka her unofficial brother its wayy worse. like biana compliment tam on something, and tam blushes and sheepishly thanks her (as what has happened many times before) and then rayni takes a look at her brothers smiling, blushing face, looks at biana's, and bluntly says "you should ask her out" or smth and then we have tam choking on air and frozen biana, while keefe is just laughing his butt off in the corner.

thinking about Rayni going through her emo phase yet she picked the name that everyone has to call her (pre-reveal) Glimmer.

10x more likeable. just saying.

Rayni getting re enrolled into Foxfire, Rayni annoying the heck out of Tam, Rayni and Linh hanging out being sisters, Tiergan adopting Rayni, the crew adopting Rayni, Raying being savage as heck to the crew

also the angst. THE ANGST.

...imma go start writing this.

[flyingwargle]

sakuatsu fanfic recommendations!

i am back with more fanfic recommendations. i still have 100 fanfics to read so this will definitely be updated in the future x3 but away we go!

the highest rating for these recs is m!

oneshots!

soft but what light by min_mintobe teen. 2.1k. sakusa pov. atsumu woos sakusa by quoting shakespeare. very cute and endearing <3

i'll see you in court by yamscooper teen. 2.4k words. sakusa pov. post-anesthesia sakusa doesn't remember his husband. it's funnier than it sounds, trust me.

clean™️ by kiyoomi by sifuhotman teen. 3.7k words. atsumu pov. sakusa gets sponsored by mr. clean and sends samples to atsumu. he reads too much into it. fluffy and hilarious, especially the ending <3

the lovers' rivalry by strawberrypound_cake gen. 3.9k words. bokuto pov. the only thing bokuto knows about atsumu's partner is that they've been together since high school. after seeing him freak out that sakusa kiyoomi is trying out for msby, bokuto concludes that they must hate each other still and fears for atsumu. i love outsider povs, and this one was done very well!

let's get physical by rosegoldwriting teen. 4.3k. atsumu pov. atsumu falls head over heels for sakusa, the student nurse at the student center. cue atsumu doing whatever he can to cross paths with him. we love a pining atsumu in this house

the sakusa kiyoomi drunkenness scale by yamscooper mature. 4.3k. atsumu pov. atsumu discovers what six-drink kiyoomi is like. cute, hilarious, and the second part absolutely killed me (in a good way). we love drunk sakusa in this house (please drink responsibly)

raincheck? by escapist_090807 teen. 5.4k. atsumu pov. 3 times atsumu and sakusa postpone their first date, and 1 time they make it happen anyway. very fluffy and cute, especially when there's a weasel involved!

particularities by shizuumi151 teen. 5.7k words. atsumu pov. sakusa has sole claim of the apartment for deep cleaning days. roommates hinata, bokuto, and atsumu find him intense, except intense means something different for atsumu. absolutely hilarious, especially with osamu's part in the last half!

haha what if we kissed at the [undisclosed store name]-? by fried_squid teen. 6.9k words. atsumu pov. atsumu forgets his costco card and asks the first person he sees (i.e. sakusa) to help him out. i love the flirting through cash transfers, atsumu's wild goose chase to find out who sakusa's cousin is, and the pining! it's also very funny, go treat yourself to a laugh <3

sleeptalking by makemestagger teen. 6.6k words. sakusa pov. sakusa learns that atsumu talks in his sleep and uses this opportunity to see if atsumu reciprocates his feelings. fluffy and lighthearted!

on the back burner of love by aurite teen. 7.8k words. atsumu pov. sakusa leaves to play for a team in paris and atsumu pines. a narrative of two boys toeing the line of haha what if we're in a love but we won't tell the other until they're halfway across the world

the airport test by calicofern teen. 11.3k words. sakusa pov. how do you tell if you have serious feelings for someone? travel with them at the asscrack of dawn to assess if you'll do it again. i absolutely loved this, it's very much like sakusa to test himself (and affection) in this way x3 also with a sequel!

longfics!

under pressure by ghostystarr gen. 8.1k words. 2 chapters. sakusa pov. my first introduction to sakuatsu and damn is it a good one. sakusa learns how to flirt from bokuto and hinata. it goes as well as you'd expect. please read this.

(un-)deserving by sipsutus teen. 11.1k words. 2 chapters. atsumu pov. unlike most might think, atsumu cared and he can't believe that anyone would deserve him, until sakusa tells him he does <3 we love and care for atsumu in this house, no matter how painful it gets

the dos and don'ts of loving sakusa kiyoomi by liliapocalypse teen. 15k words. 2 chapters. atsumu pov. the jackals have a little game to try to make sakusa warm up to them and somehow, atsumu ends up with negative scores for four weeks. cue an intense investigation on how he can be the best teammate ever...and eventually gets the man, as well x3 very cute, highly recommend!

flowers bloom in our masks by unicornflowers gen. 24.k words. 3 chapters. sakusa pov. a beautiful exploration of sakusa's mysophobia in a developing relationship with atsumu. it has a happy ending, don't worry <3

point of view by lonelydoctors teen. 27.9k words. 3 chapters. atsumu pov. atsumu grows up thinking he's too much to love and sakusa shows him otherwise. deals with heavy themes, please heed the tags before reading <3

frankenstein's monster by starbeyy teen. 83.6k words. 10 chapters. atsumu pov. atsumu accidentally pisses off sakusa on the first day of practice and vows to avoid him, but this fails when they see each other for group therapy that same night. deals with themes related to ocd, proceed with caution <3 very detailed and personal, with comfort to balance the angst

easy to love by harubo teen. 145.5k words. 40 chapters. multi-pov. although this is mainly sakuatsu, i blame this fic for making me fall for sunaosa as well x3 canon divergence where sakusa is a food critic and stumbles upon onigiri miyas. the slowburn is so, so good, and the writing is so, so beautifully crafted and oozing with love. cannot recommend this enough, please love yourself and read this <3

your hands only by odd_bear mature. 200.4k words. 20 chapters. multi-pov. atsumu gets into a very dangerous relationship and those around him help free him. features multiple pairings, endgame sakuatsu.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for leaving a DND campaign abruptly?

Some backstory: I had joined a DND game about 5 years ago right after breaking up with my toxic ex at the time. Me and my ex were both trying to be cordial at this time and ended up both joining a DND game run by a mutual friend.

In our first session, I had noticed my ex made her character be a parody of me that she made look like an awful person. She then kept dm-ing me during our sessions to tell me how to play my character better and other general backseat gaming stuff.

Very quickly, maybe about a month in, I contacted the DM about leaving the campaign due to wanting to distance myself from my ex. She was very upset I wanted to leave and offered to kick my ex from the group instead. I declined saying it would only cause more drama. The DM agreed to let my character go off at the end of the activity we were gonna do that session so it would make sense story-wise.

But this departure did not happen. after that conversation she vague-posted onling about how people dont want to be her friend. She then purposefully kept extending this part of the plot, just so I wouldnt leave the game and could realize it could still be fun. I told her outright I could not do this anymore after 3 more additional sessions and telling me she'll get to my character's exit soon. I always felt like an ass to the other players in the game for leaving them abruptly but I could not do it anymore.

Fast forward roughly 4 years, the DM tells me she is going to make a new campaign and would like for me to join since my ex was no longer in it. I agreed as I had missed playing DND a lot.

For the past year or so I have been in this campaign and it can be fun at times but I still feel out of place. This new session is a direct continuation of the previous campaign's storyline and regularly references it. Now, as far as I know my ex's character has not been referenced at all but I am constantly reminded of this situation whenever they mention a character's name I don't remember (because honestly I don't remember her characters name nor do I want to). I know I said to not bring her up around me but I don't quite trust this friend to keep her word. Simply because I don't think she ever remembers anything I tell her out of a place of... just not caring.

The DM and I just don't quite mesh that well. I don't really like her DM-ing style of making it up as the session happens. I don't like that she will constantly decide what my character is doing, even if I ask to do something, she tells me to roll to see if i can, i can get a nat20 and she will still decide what my character will do next based on what she thinks is funnier to her but makes my next action harder to accomplish.

I have dm'd her to talk about the progression of my character arc (after she constantly implys in session my character is the comedic relief and doesnt have any character development) and she'll go ooo and aaa (literally all she would say) but never actually implement anything I recommend.

I kept saying to myself it will get better in time. I have voiced my wants for my character, and they are ignored. In session, my character actions are essentially decided for me no matter how I roll the dice. It feels weird to be around half of the party bc they spent 4 years in a campaign with my ex who played a parody of me. esp hard after the DM keeps making me be the comedic relief even though I keep trying to play more seriously. other players constantly joke about how my character is gonna be the one that gets them all killed etc because of actions I dont necessarily decide.

Now as mentioned before, DM is also known to vague-blog about how "her friends secretly hate her" at any moment as well. This has happened before after I tried to "real talk" with her a handful of times over unrelated topics too (even if she initiates this conversation)

Given everything above, I want to leave this DND game after giving it a try for a year (really giving it an opportunity to improve). We left off with my character running off alone to get supplies for the party. I was thinking I could make a statement saying I had some personal things come up and I need to leave the game abruptly and leave it to the DM to decide what to do with my character.

Now I feel like I may be the AH because: I am leaving the game abruptly for a second time technically. I would contact the DM on how to make it make sense for my character to depart, but I feel like she will do the same thing as before with the previous campaign and keep putting it off, especially after ignoring my character growth ideas for a year in this current campaign. I also feel like I may be the AH because in character my group does need those supplies, but there is nothing stopping the DM from controlling my character to deliver supplies within the first 5 minutes of the next session.

[fourstarsoutofnine]

I'm so sorry if you've gotten too many Four requests already, but I SWEAR YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I TRUST ENOUGH TO DO THIS 😭🥺

anyways! i have this scenario in mind: Four working on fixing/making a blade or he's relaxing and he's wearing a sleeveless shirt, so reader gets to see his arms and holy shit there's no way those arms weren't chiseled by the goddesses themselves so reader immediately gets a dumb dreamy smile with heart eyes and all. So while in their very clear admiration and fawning over Four (Four is the only one that hasn't noticed), when the smith approaches them they end up absent mindedly blurting out a very... not so subtle compliment of what they've been looking at on him for a while now. Feel free to decide what happens next.

whether Four and reader are already in a relationship is up to you but i think it'd be funnier if reader just has the biggest crush on him and he had NO idea gshdjshshdjsjdjsj

A/n:I genuinely think yall are mindreaders bc I’ve been wanting to write this too😭I’ve also been thinking about how he’d be literally so buff👁️👁️also thank you so much for entrusting me with this🫡four is one of my favorites and I always enjoy writing for him so don’t worry!

Forge

Four x reader

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation.

Actually, yes you do. You’re just a little foggy. I mean, how could you not be? Hot room, steam coming from the heated weapons dipped into the water….

Your boyfriend standing there working tirelessly, and doing so while looking effortlessly beautiful.

Let’s set the scene. You’re in the forge, in his Hyrule. He was beyond elated to be back in his own forge again. He figured he could finally make a weapon the champion couldn’t break, and it’s exactly what he was attempting to do now. You had a front row seat to the show, too. Blacksmithing always intrigued you, and even more so after you got with the smith himself, so you were more than excited to see him in action. You just didn’t account for how little you’d actually pay attention.

I mean, how could you? You sure tried, but your mind was so full yet so empty at the same time as you watched him work.

You didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. All you knew was the strength that lay under his skin could only have been put there by the goddesses themselves. You were just delighted to have seen it in your lifetime.

Sweat beaded on his face, seeping into the headband he kept wrapped around him in hopes both hair and sweat wouldn’t fall into his eyes. He raised the mallet in the air and it came crashing down onto the hot metal in what would’ve been a loud bang, but you were too focused on the way he moved to care about it. Everything was muffled around you and it seemed you two could’ve been the only people in the world. Your heart pounded against your chest from either the heat of the fire or the man in front of you, you neither knew nor cared. He was like a song, you determined. The way the strength of his body was the perfect tune to the lyrics of his wonderful mind and soul would be one you could listen to over and over—and the tapestry of beautiful and poetic sentiments you thought of him was one woven so thick you’d be able to sleep under only it during the coldest of winters.

You’d been stuck in your own head about it for so long that you gained a lovesick smile. The thought of being held by him, kissed by him, or Hylia—even spoken to gave you that giddy feeling in your chest, like the butterflies swirling there wanted to fly out the moment you opened your mouth. He’d been watching you for some time, wondering when it was you’d notice he was looking at you. Finally his words broke through.

“Y/n..!” He laughed. “Hey, I’m talking to you..” he tilted his head to look at you with a quirked smile. “You alright..?”

“Huh?? Oh—yeah..” you sunk in on yourself at being caught daydreaming, face blooming a bright red with the blush extending into your ears and neck. “I’m fine…”

“What’s on your mind, dove? Huh?” He rested his cheek in his hand. “What brought out that smile you had earlier?”

Oh goddess, oh jeez— “uhm—uh—it’s-um—“ your words only became more jumbled as his smile got wider. His eyes filled with that same look yours had been only moments ago. He was just as in love. Your brain hit the panic button. You were no longer in control. “You. Your arms. You’re hot.”

His eyes widened and he leaned back in a loud laugh. Your cheeks puffed up and you looked down, embarrassed. When his laughter died down a bit, he walked over to you. “Oh, goodness, I love you.” He stood on his tiptoes and caught you up in a kiss. You melted against him and wrapped your arms around him, kissing back. His snaked around your waist and held you firmly there. When you pulled away he got a mischievous grin. “So my arms, huh?~”

“Oh shut up!” You shoved him away, covering your face. He just kept laughing. It’d be all too fun to tease you in the future, and you knew exactly what you were in for…

You didn’t exactly mind.

[not-kayvalencourt]

Need more people in the jumbros nation (jimmy and mumbo as twins) bc it makes all of their interactions in ll WAY funnier imo. Also the canary and coal miner thing but whatever

I imagine mumbo's got like this running gag of borrowing something (expendable) from jimmy or getting a (cheap) gift and coming to him a day later like "oh yeah...sorry I lost the mcdonalds toy you gave me..." and jimmy LOSES IT. But it's all fun and games they're brothers and they tease each other.

And maybe jimmy doesn't expect him to bring it into ll because...why would he? But then he pulls it with the spyglasses and jimmy gets SOOO pissed but he's not really. That's his brother and he's kind of an ass sometimes but that's just how brothers are!!!

And also okay yeah. You and your brother are doomed by the narrative. Years ago (Evo perchance) he swore he'd never be that far away from you again. And when you finally see each other again after being apart for a month or so, you break, and neither of you want to let go but you know damn well being close to someone means certain death for both of you. You're trying to keep him at an arm's distance but he won't stray from you, even after you're both on your last lives, and you both die and you realize you might be cursed and you might've just dragged the one person you're certain you can trust down with you.

(The next time, you swear it won't happen again. But you look around and you can't see him anywhere. Maybe the Watchers took him away. It would make sense, They don't like seeing you happy.)

And when you break the curse, and you think it's all over, he's right there next to you, just like he promised. He hugs you like it's the last time he'll see you. It might.

[nerves-nebula]

i 100% dont think its happening like this but i like to imagine slash during Uno was like "Ah! Leo! The daddy's boy fuckface who hurts raph and everyone else too but im mostly mad about Raph lbr! And theres Mikey, the one who likes always getting his way and having fun at everyone else's expenses and also a fucking Brat! And Donnie!"

....

"Im worried about this kid actually. Uh. Hm."

It’s funnier than that imo

I’ve said before that Donnie and Raph have a weird relationship where they don’t have a lot of one on one drama or connection. I imagine them playing video games together or sitting in silence. In some ways they trust each other more with serious stuff than either of them trust leo or Mikey. but they aren’t as provocative towards each other as Mikey or leo are to everyone.

They don’t bother each other the ways Mikey and leo bother them either, they’re kind of similar types of Tired Autistic Quiet Guy.

They’re both also kind of second place in a way. Donnie’s the second to last in splinters eyes, making him functionally irrelevant if it weren’t for his skill with technology. While it’s probably better to not be in last place, at least Mikey has obtained a certain level of “my dad has given up on me” freedom that Donnie doesnt. He’s ignored but not so ignored that he’s allowed to fuck up for long. Donnie is very much still afraid of losing the little respect his dad gives him.

And Raph is second to first place, making him a backup kid who needs to maintain all the abilities of the favorite but is only really paid attention to if something happens to Leo.

They’re both also in this weird liminal space of being responsible for crucial things in the house (hygiene, cooking, running water, fixing electronics) and being ignored. but neither of them spend much one on one time together until they all move out, because they’re each too busy and irritated and tired.

So really it’s just that Raph doesn’t talk about Donnie as much when venting to his pet. Therefore, Slash literally doesn’t think about donnie. like at all. He doesn’t necessarily like him but he doesn’t dislike him either. Donnie is basically set dressing in his mind lmao.

He doesn’t like what he’s heard about Mikey and Leo making Raphs life harder but he looks at Donnie and just kind of shrugs. If he was pressed he could probably say something about Donnie just letting all this terrible stuff happen to Raph but that’s an issue he has with everyone.

[breezybeej]

The Verity by Colleen Hoover Post

I want to put some of my highlights and notes here so I can reference them without needing the images on my phone. Warning: this book sucks and you will see some really stupid and weird shit in here.

This is the description of blood splashing on Lowen (the main character) after she witnessed a man get run over. I've seen some car accidents. I don't think it's very common at all for someone's head to pop like a water balloon in these circumstances.

What is cryptic here? He (Jeremy, the romance option) has seen worse than a man getting run over. I think it's pretty straight forward, babe.

This is from Verity (jeremy's wife, a comatose woman). Most of her stuff should be taken with a grain of salt for plot reasons but some of these are so ridiculous on their face that you can't really save them

Unlikely.

Licking someone's thumb like a postage stamp is just so FUCKing SExy

I cared, I heard, and I minded. Please don't talk about getting fingered at steak 'n shake

Meeting Jeremy makes you want to jump off a cliff????? Well, to be fair, me too, girl

Why is this how you describe it, Lowen. You are reading her autobiography but you are thinking about her underwear.

Okay, I love this one because there's a lot happening. 1. He walks backwards A LOT in the first half of this book and I don't know why. 2. He was on his way to the kitchen to heat up leftovers but they were already done when they arrived? 3. He pulls out a plate of pizza. So in one very short paragraph we have pizza said three times. I think this book wasn't carefully edited.

So what does that mean. If someone has a plate of peas and they do this, I imagine them poking and prodding and scooping but pizza? Is he like... picking it up and putting it down? Sliding it around the plate?

It's just SO weird to go with your wife to her first pregnancy appointment for the baby you squirted into her, isn't it.

So this is again Verity writing from opposite land but like. They very much do have sex constantly so does she feel this way or not.

This one really bugs me just because she flubbed the parallel structure on "with a broken wrist" and "covered in blood" like the reason we have mechanics for parallel structure is that the sentences feel clunky without it.

I lost count, I didn't highlight every one, but I think this is in the book at least 10 times. Colleen does NOT trust you to remember this.

Lowen, why is this a dammit. Why is that messed up. What.

Just like Layla in the other book, Layla, Lowen is a girl who knows how to eat and she's quirky for eating tacos

So why didn't she just list the vegetables. It would be faster. "He grabbed cilantro and onions." or "He grabbed onions and peppers." Like... Colleen, you live in texas and you write about tacos in your books more than once.

People hate me for suggesting Lowen is bi but..... i mean.... she was diggin through Verity's drawers too, you remember.

Why did anyone let her say epic burn in a book. Why does she use epic again moments later.

Ope, I got this one though.

Thankfully Verity has two breasts.

That's how I felt reading this book. You DO get a feeling that Colleen partially wrote this to call out her haters.

Don't say that

Here's another line that gets repeated like 6 times. I don't even know why. It doesn't play into the plot or the themes really.

God isn't that insane. Who does that. Also this is Verity Opposite land so... does she wear lingerie often?

Babe. What.

Someone pointed out that license picture are usually the worst pictures of you possible. That makes this so much funnier imo

When you say "He groans" as a single clause, it makes it sound like he's disappointed. "Ugh, babe you forgot your bra AGAIN?"

[grimfurbybitch]

What if. What if... Sir Pentious, while at the Hotel, receives a mysterious letter in front of everyone and everyone is confused because Pentious is nervous and doesn’t want to show/tell them who it is from and what it is. Despite the fact that Pentious worriedly makes excuses that this is personal, this causes a negative reaction among the hotel residents because this happens at a time when they have not yet fully begun to trust him. Especially Angel Dust, after that experience, you know. Not trusting Pentious more than anyone else and feeling something was wrong, he snatches the letter from him under the protests of the snake and reads that the letter is from Zestial. Alastor naturally recognizes the name and tells the others, and oh no, poor Pentious is trapped due to a miscommunication! Everyone just immediately thought that he was spying on them AGAIN just for another overlord LOL

Sir Pentious constantly gets into funny situations, I think this could very well happen to him. He will panic and blush at the same time, because ah uh erm well, how is he supposed to tell them all that he has actually been dating the oldest overlord in Hell for a hundred years???

related text post

Angel Dust can't actually read the letter, not due to Zestial's magic or anything like that, he just can't read Zestial's handwriting or understand his Shakespearian speech

Honestly most of the hotel probably can't read it (Zestial has some INTENSE cursive handwriting, it took Sir Pentious years to figure out how to read it) except Alastor but he's just stirring the pot more (he absolutely read it already but it's funnier to claim he's a traitor)

they definitely ganged up on him when Charlie wasn't there because they were worried she'll give him another chance and clearly he can't be trusted!

the letter says something like "why are you staying at that hotel? It fucking sucks, please come stay with me 🥺 I would treat you right" mixed with poetry about how much Zestial loves Sir Pentious, truly pouring his heart out on this paper

So something that isn't betrayal (or well at least it isn't selling them out) but still definitely something he wouldn't want to show the others

Charlie gets back in the middle of them yelling at him and is devastated at the idea of Sir Pentious betraying her again so she talks to him herself

And like two minutes into her "I'm not mad I'm disappointed" talk he confesses to dating Zestial

Which backfires on him because they assume it has to be some serious shit if he's that scared of talking (although it's Zestial, anybody would rather double die then double cross him), so they try to interrogate him to figure out exactly what he's been telling Zestial and why Zestial even wants a spy in this hotel in the first place.

Or the letter's asking him to "join Zestial in his bedchambers~( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" and Sir Pentious lets them kill him because that's straight up better than explaining the contents of letter

Alastor tried to read it out loud, realized what it actually said, and then fucking dipped immediately lmao

(this took so long because I got distracted lmao)

[nihilizzzm]

The fellowship at the house party

tw: drinking alcohol, smoking weed and nicotine

yeah so i might be hangover again but at least it gives me dope post ideas

(disclaimer that makes it even funnier: every description is based on someone i know and i was drinking with, so yeah, call it my slavic heritage ig)

Frodo: His house, not his idea. It was available. He has a big house far away from the city centre, so loud music won’t kill anyone. He specifically said he’a never doing a big party. It happened anyway. At first he is stressed about everything, trying to save as much furniture as he can. Than he decides that fuck it and drinks some beer. At some point he doesn’t care anymore, goes to sleep. No hangover, in the morning he’s drinking coffee and watching everyone cleaning up the mess.

Merry: Very much not his house, very much his idea. Surprisingly he’s not that drunk, but his goal for the night is to get Pippin drunk as fuuuck. He looks after him tho, as much as it’s possible. He invited most of the people. The best dj, not the only one unfortunately, but definitely the most skilled one. Did spend some time in the smoking circle in the garden. Also no hangover (surprisingly v2), helps cleaning. He has his honour.

Pippin: Came to drink and so he did. No shit talking, first thing he said when he entered was ‘where’s vodka?!’. From the very beginning he knew he is gonna be the drunkest. He was not tho, this spot is reserved for someone else, but he was trying his best. Merry helped him a lot. Also he smoked a lot. Anyway right after midnight he passed out, slept under the table. Hangover in the morning, still he was satisfied with himself.

Sam: He helped Frodo decorate. Came earlier and made sandwiches. Some laughed at this idea but at the end of the night there was not a single one left. Pure soul, he doesn’t rly drink. He had like one and a half beer and that’s it. He was sitting with Frodo for the whole night and put him to sleep. In the morning he helped cleaning but most importantly he was the one telling everyone what they have to do.

Gimli: Challenged Legolas to a drinking competition. We all know how it went down. But before he was the best dancer. Ok, maybe not the best but the most committed one. Also came earlier and helped Sam with making drinks, the fancy kind (with what was available and affordable ofc). He was bitching in the morning but helped with the dishes.

Legolas: Oh boy… First of all danced with Gimli, then they fought, then he won the drinking game with him. They kissed in the process, they are in a weird situationship. After the party they started dating. After Gimli passed out he got even more drunk and got into full diva mood. Suddenly he became best friends with Boromir with who he usually is not that close. He is one of the two people who went to buy more booze in the middle of the night to the nearest petrol station. He was also the one who took the most of the photos, mostly blurry tho. Miraculously not hangover. How? Magic ig. Or maybe bc he’s the one who ate all of the sandwiches. Doesn’t clean in the morning, he sits in the kitchen with a tea and posts photos at his insta and laughs at Gimli and Boromir.

Boromir: Had a shitty week at work and with his father so he knew he’s gonna be drunk. But man- Drunk a lot, smoked a lot (he doesn’t even smoke usually??). Literally the amount of booze in his system would kill Pippin. Talking about Pippin they did drink a lot together before Pippin was out. He’s the other half of people who went to the petrol station. Why? He wanted more alcohol and Legolas said he will pay if Boromir would carry everything. They rly started getting along after certain amount if booze. He fell asleep on the couch. Aragorn gave him a bucket, he didn’t need it but in the morning he started thinking it would be better if he did. He didn’t help cleaning, he wasn’t trusting his legs well enough. He was just sitting on the couch in dark glasses and hoped for his life to get together. But Aragorn was sitting with him so it was nice.

Aragorn: Didn’t drink a lot. Smoked weed tho. He was almost all the time in the smoking garden circle with Gandalf. Than went inside to check on people and when he found out Boromir and Legolas are out of the house he lost any hope for a good ending of this night. He got so stoned that when everything was quieting down he was sitting with drunk af Boromir on the couch and started braiding his hair talking about some metaphysical shit. He also became very open about his feelings, Boromir doesn’t remember. They will work it out eventually. Until morning he was sober and made everyone electrolytes and tea. And gave Boromir the glasses. Helped with cleaning.

Gandalf: He brought weed. Didn’t even get inside, literally just sitting and smoking. In the middle of the night disappeared. In the morning texted if everyone is okay and didn’t stop asking until everyone answered. Said he’s never doing it again and that every single one of the members of the fellowship is a stupid bitch. Checked twice on Pippin. Shouted at Boromir with all capital letters for like 20 minutes. Boromir just muted the chat. He did appear on the next party anyway.

Bonus:

Faramir: Boromir specifically told him not to go, bc he feared the young one will get drunk. He didn’t. Drunk a bit, danced a lot with Eomer and Eowyn. Had fun. Boromir doesn’t know he was there and nobody will ever tell him.

[backgroundagent3]

For the character asks, Lance Hunter

Thanks for the ask! 💙

First impression: Loved him. I think I found him a little bit annoying, but in a good way, of course.

Impression now: I somehow love him even more. I still can't believe the writers just wrote him and Bobbi out because they were such great characters. He deserved to stay even just for comedic relief, because God knows the team needed a laugh sometimes, and so did we.

Favorite moment: When he shows up in prison to "talk to his client" in season 5. That was so iconic because not only was it a great entrance, but also such a relief to see a familiar face in that situation, especially if said familiar face has a hilarious dynamic with Fitz. That was obviously written for the fans, so I have no complaints. Honourable mentions to when he punches the guy from the ATCU without so much as a second thought, when he rants about Bobbi in 2.04 pretending he's not in love with her, and when he goes undercover as an obnoxious IT guy.

Idea for a story: This is not my idea, but I need to know what happened when he and Bobbi almost got married again between seasons 3 and 5. What do you mean "the ninjas showed up"? This had so much potential, but I think the fact that he never explained makes it funnier. Is it a weird metaphor for something? Did some ninjas actually attack them right before the wedding? Are the ninjas some friends who didn't think they should get married? We'll never know.

Unpopular opinion: I've seen somewhere that Most Wanted was a bad idea from the start, and I'm here to tell you that's wrong. I think it's a tragedy that it got cancelled, because can you imagine the potential? A spinoff of the best show on Earth? Our favourite problematic spy couple on the run breaking the law and causing problems? How is that a bad idea. Even if the script was bad and the plot was bad and everything was bad, it's still extra screentime for two awesome characters. If nothing else, we all know he would have had hilarious one liners, and I would have loved to watch it.

Favorite relationship: Huntingbird. Yes, I know he and Bobbi had a LOT of issues, but that just makes it funnier. Their bickering was on point, and the way he so was so obviously down bad for her the minute the words "demonic hell beast" left his mouth is so pathetic and hilarious. On a more serious note, the way they worked together as agents was great. While they may not have always trusted each other, they always had faith in the other's capabilities to do a good job in the field and stay alive ("Don't die our there"). They worried, sure, but they didn't try to keep the other out of danger Fitzsimmons style because they knew they could handle things, and for the most dysfunctional relationship of the show, that was pretty healthy. As for platonic relationship, Fitz. All they had in common was the fact that they were sassy Brits with serious relationship issues, and that was somehow enough to form a great dynamic. I loved all their little moments in 2.04, especially when Fitz talked about his crush on Jemma in the weirdest, most uncomfortable, and out of context way, and Hunter just went along with it and comforted him.

Favorite headcanon: At some point watching season 6 I decided it was stupid that they hadn't returned to SHIELD, so in my head they did. It just didn't make sense that they still had to live a life on the run when SHIELD was a legitimate organisation again, especially when the new director was their best friend who could have pulled some strings to have them there. It would have been so cool to see them again, not to mention it would have been very helpful for the team. And can you imagine Hunter's reaction at seeing Sarge? If anyone could have added some levity to the situation, I know it's him.

Writing this made me remember how much I love and miss him. Please send me more!

Character Asks.

[idolish7imagines]

Could I request Re:vale with a very protective reader who scares off Tsukumo by breaking a door by roundhouse kicking it then threatening him?

Re:vale with a very protective reader who scares off Tsukumo

A/N: truthfully i did NOT expect to write them this long but here you go; also reader is married to Yuki in this bc i thought itd be funnier

Yuki

Yuki wasn't rolling his eyes yet, but he was certainly getting there.

The president had stopped him right when he was about to head home for the day from a shoot, and unlucky him, the president of Tsukumo Productions was also there and decided to not only corner him in his dressing room, but chat a little bit like they were buddies.

Despite the fact in another timeline, Yuki would've already bashed him over the head with a metal bat.

They weren't talking about anything special, making him question even further why Tsukumo would waste both of their time with idle chatter truly neither of them cared for.

Until, the next statement nearly feels like he set his blood aflame.

"You know you can't hide them from the public forever, right?" The president says in a teasing tone, yet also seemed like he wasn't just pulling his leg with a meaningless joke.

"i...excuse me?" The idol blinks, now looking him straight in the eye.

Ryo lifts his hands up in sadistic joy. "Ahaha, I got the Yuki-san of Re:vale to stutter for a moment!"

Yuki bites the inside of his jaw, not even hiding his distaste for the man with his expression anymore. "Answer me."

"Why, your partner of course!--oh wait, thats the word you use to describe Momo.." He presses a finger to his lips in mockery. "Maybe I should use a different word..let's say, spouse?"

The man's brows furrow. Thoughts flooding through his mind both of wondering how he found out and not being suprised at all.

"Sorry but my spouse doesn't really like pathetic business men, so they stay far away from work, or else they'll be in the situation i'm in right now." Yuki says with a smile spitefully courteous enough to make Ryo's brow twitch.

"Is that so? They'll be a bit disappointed finding out what you get up to during the day then."

"I don't have any reason to feel guilt, unlike you."

That statement is what makes Ryo's facade drop first, eyes squinted and fists slightly lock.

"Really now?" "Really." Yuki keeps smiling. "In fact, they should be here in a moment."

As if on cue, he moves and the door behind Ryo goes flying off its hinges into the nearest couch of the dressing room.

Much to Yuki's dismay, the clicks of the door signaled Ryo to move before he wouldve gotten hit and hopefully hospitalized-

"I will not be late for our dinner just because Tsukumo wants to play games!" You bark, stomping over to your husband and taking his hand in yours.

Ryo clicks his tongue with his eyes narrowed, before trying to brush it off with a smirk.

"I wouldn't have thought you were into the feisty ones." He says.

"Well, theres' a lot you don't know about me." The idol puts a hand into his pocket. "Now if you'll excuse us, we do actually have a reservation." He says calmly.

"If I find out this happens again that door will be you." You turn to Tsukumo. "Stop talking to my husband. We don't. Like you." You firmly state.

Before he can respond, the two of you start walking out, hand in hand.

"..I love this side of you." Yuki nuzzles his head against yours, something he does when feeling more playful, despite what just happened.

"I know."

Momo

Momo regrets even telling you the address of Tsukumo's house. He did it in the name of trust, that if anything were to happen to him like before, you'd at least know his location.

The lies and misdirection was getting exhausting to keep up, and he needed someone to lean on...but he knows how you get even at the mention of the evil, sadistic president's name.

Which is what was making him at least 2x as nervous than he would be typically when having dinner with the man tonight. Even the thought of eating something he had made makes Momo's stomach turn.

On one hand, it could be poisoned, but on the other, he doubts Tsukumo would hurt his favorite 'toy' that much. Or else he wouldn't be as entertaining when he grovels.

"Something wrong with your appetite, Momo?" The man's typical cat-like grin spread across his face, seeing him all but grow visibly pale at the sight of the food.

"-ah-ahaha! No, not at all, it looks great! Maybe you could share your recipe sometime?" Back to the act. His defense mechanism.

"A good chef doesn't share his secrets!" Ryo pridefully proclaims. "Well, unless you want to give me something in return~"

Yeah, he was definitely nauseous now if he wasn't before.

"Awwww!" A dramatic pout in response. "But I couldn't possibly come up with something t-"

His phone buzzes, making both of them pause abruptly.

Momo prays silently that it isn't one of his friends, Yuki, or god forbid you. At best it'd be someone who got the wrong number.

Ryo waits a bit boredly with his hand on his cheek, waiting for the other man to be done. Almost like a child waiting for their older sibling to finish attending to something to continue their play time.

Fortunate a sight for him and far less for Momo, the idol's expression visibly changes to one of slight fear when he sees the text.

Quickly, he starts to get up, reaching for his bag and slipping his shoes back on, leaving Tsukumo befuddled.

"Momo, we're not done." He forces a smile, but there was unpleasant bass in his tone, one Momo was all too used to.

"I-i'm so sorry Ryo-san, I need to head out--ah--its an emergency!" He quickly tries to cover himself, hoping he would accept the vague excuse.

There was stomping heard outside the door and getting closer, making the president tilt his head in confusion and slight curiosity.

At first there's only a knock, which has the idol's heart pumping even harder against his chest as he's too late.

"If its room service it can wait, I'm in the middle of important business matters." Ryo says in a snooty tone. The other nearly rolls his eyes at his idea of important business matters.

Another beat of silence.

Suddenly the door shakes as a force on the other side pounds into it. Momo dodges a hinge that flies off nearly towards his face.

Another one comes swiftly after, now making it turn diagonally.

Before the third impact comes, sending it hurling towards the wall, coupled with dust rising up.

Tsukumo quickly rises from his seat, wondering who on Earth in their right mind would knock down his door.

A figure soon comes into view through all the dust, brows furrowed and quickly lunging to grab Momo's ear.

"You are coming home now!" You demand. It wasn't a hard pinch, but you did have a firm grip on his ear while your boyfriend squirmed.

"I-its not what you think, me and Tskumo are fine, nothing shady-" "Not today Momo." You bite back a bit harshely.

"My oh my, who might this be?" Ryo quickly becomes intrigued.

Momo feels like a fire may as well be lit under him if he pieces it together that you're his significant other.

"None of your business unless you keep pulling these stunts." You scowl towards him.

"Oh I see, so you've come to collect precious Momo?" He grins, unphased.

"Yes. Bye. I'm not paying for your door." Starting to drag him out, you step right over the expensive debris on the floor. You may have even knocked a vase over, but judging who it belongs to, you could care less.

Tsukumo looks at the two of you incredulously as you walk down the hall to the elevator.

Once in there, your boyfriend sits on the cold steel floor, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We are screwed, we are so screwed-" He mutters over and over, prompting you to bend down to comfort him.

"We're not screwed Momo. We just need to be assertive with him from now on. He can't just do what he wants...I..."

You pause, looking away with a few teeth gently biting your lip.

"Everyone almost lost you a while ago..because of him." You slightly hiss.

"please..just trust me? Like you said you would.." A hand reaches out to gently caress the face you adored greatly.

His fuchsia eyes peer up into yours. Hesitant, but accepting.

"..yes. I love you, (y/n)..Thank you for being here."