#patrick's ghost haunts them

[tarotofbadkitties]

The reason the hotel scene is so weird is Patrick. Fresh off starting a fight with him for no reason, Art's coming in hot. He's both guilty because he was such a dick, and also pumped with adrenaline cause being mean is a rush for people who are never mean. When he tells Tashi he has something to say to her that's going to make her mad, his body is tense and his hands are twitching. Art's ready to have that fight about his retirement.

What Art doesn't know, is that she and Patrick already had the fight they should be having in this moment. She should be pissed because they've been doing this together and now he wants to quit on her, but her affects all wrong; she's as placid as a lake. Her energy is making him anxious, suspicious, and you can see his brain going a mile a minute. Just like a partner having a sexual affair isn't horny when you expect them to be because they gave their lust to someone else, a partner having an emotional one can be too calm when you expect them to be fired up. Patrick gave him some pushback, but he had the big fight about being abandoned in favor of the saddest marriage in the world with Tashi and was ready to reconcile. Unlike Tashi, who liked to meditate and be chill before a match, Art's looking for a fight ahead of his match in the morning.

The problem is, neither of his people are down for that, and he can't put his finger on why. With that plan foiled, he switches gears to sexy mode. While he's working his way into the zone, slowly kissing his way around Tashi's body, she's damn near ready to combust. At this point, he can try to catch up and satisfy her OR he can leave her sexually unsatisfied the same way she left him emotionally unsatisfied. What wins this battle is passively giving her permission to sneak out while he pretends to be asleep. If she wants to fight with Patrick then she can go fuck him too.

[andragoras-in-vanity]

god i love james wans movies, theyre so bad but so good

[chosok-amo]

ABRACADABRA, POOF! THE ‘D’ IS GONE

TOJI FUSHIGURO . . . you and your friends decided it is a good time to go on the haunted house your campus held, and . . . boo! that ’s the patrick bateman comes to life, waiting to suck your soul behind the fake tree. . . from between your legs.

warning. college! au, ex-boyfriend! toji, public place, choking, manhandling, slight cōckwarming, slight sqūirting.

wc. | kinktober masterlist.

screams echo from inside the haunted house your campus set up for the halloween event. you stand at the entrance, arms crossed, already feeling annoyed. haunted houses have never been your thing. the loud, sudden noises, the darkness that presses in from all sides, making you feel trapped—it’s all just too much. claustrophobia kicks in just thinking about it, and you can feel your skin crawl with the idea of being stuck inside.

you grumble under your breath, but your friends are relentless. they’re tugging at your arms, practically dragging you toward the entrance despite your protests. “come on, it’ll be fun!” one of them chirps, way too excited for what you know is going to be a nightmare.

“fun for who?” you mutter, rolling your eyes as they laugh, completely ignoring your reluctance. their hands tighten around yours as they pull you inside, and the moment you step through the doors, you regret every decision that led to this point.

you find yourself walking through the maze of darkness, surrounded by fake ghosts and eerie sounds, your nerves on edge. it’s not just the haunted house that’s making you anxious, but the thought of possibly running into your ex-boyfriend, toji fushiguro. you know he’s one of the actors here tonight, dressed up as one of the ghosts, but you have no idea which one. just the thought of facing him again, in the middle of all this chaos, has your heart racing for more reasons than just fear.

as you're lost in thought, suddenly, your friends let out a chorus of terrified screams. one of the ghosts has jumped out at them, and in their panic, they bolt, leaving you standing there all alone. you stand still for a second, completely dumbfounded. “what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath, staring after them in disbelief. they left you. alone. in the dark.

feeling a rising sense of fear at being abandoned, you quickly scramble to catch up with them. but the darkness is so thick, it’s hard to see anything. your breath quickens as you fumble your way forward, the shadows closing in around you. suddenly, your foot catches on something, and you collide with a fake tree, sending you crashing down onto the cold ground.

a low, mocking chuckle echoes through the dark, sending a shiver down your spine. you freeze for a moment, recognizing that sound all too well. it's the kind of laugh that always made your blood boil, the one that told you he was enjoying your discomfort just a little too much. you could practically hear the smirk in it, and you already knew who it belonged to.

slowly, you lift your head, your heart sinking when your eyes meet his. toji fushiguro, standing over you with that same smug, infuriating smirk plastered across his face. his dark eyes gleam in the dim light, taking in your situation—sprawled on the ground at his feet.

“well, well,” he drawls, leaning down just slightly, “look who’s all alone now.” his voice is teasing, but there’s that familiar edge to it, the one that always made it impossible for you to figure out if he was being serious or just messing with you.

the sight of him looming over you, that damn smirk on his lips, is like a punch to the gut. you can feel your temper rising, the anger mixing with the fear you were already feeling, making your face flush red. you push yourself up from the ground, swiping away the dirt from your clothes.

“you,” you growl through clenched teeth, looking up at him with eyes full of frustration and something else, something you couldn't quite define. “of course, you’re one of the actors in this hellhole.”

his grin only widens at your reaction, and he takes a step closer, towering over you like he's trying to intimidate you. “what, not happy to see me, your lovely ex-boyfriend?” he teases, his voice dripping with fake innocence.

you can feel the tension crackling between you, electric and dangerous. it's like you're back to your old routine, the one where every interaction is a battle for dominance, a contest to see who can rile each other up more. “happy? why would i be?” you snap, trying to hold your ground.

toji seems to relish in your anger; his smirk grows even more irritatingly smug. he takes another step closer to you, his body almost brushing against yours. the smell of his cologne fills your senses—it’s familiar and infuriating at the same time.

he is invading your personal space, like he always used to. you can practically feel the heat radiating from him, and despite yourself, your heart begins to race. you try to hide it, to keep your face neutral, but you can tell toji is enjoying the effect he has on you.

“aww, come on,” he drawls, leaning even closer so that his face is just inches from yours, “you don’t need to pretend anymore, sweetheart. i know you’ve missed me.”

the nickname—”sweetheart”—sends a shiver down your spine. you can feel your cheeks growing warm despite yourself, your body involuntarily responding to him even as you scowl.

“don’t call me that,” you bite out, trying to put some distance between you two. but he follows you, matching your retreated step with an encroaching one. he’s pushing your limits, playing the same game he always did.

toji just chuckles, seemingly amused by your reaction. he doesn’t back off; instead, he places a large hand on your hip, drawing you closer. his touch sends a jolt through your body, a mixture of anger and unwanted desire. “touchy. you’ve always preferred to act all tough, huh?” he whispers.

toji’s hand on your hip feels like a brand, searing hot against your skin. you can feel the heat spreading through you, the unwanted reaction to his touch making you even more frustrated. his voice is low and smooth, that damn smirk never leaving his face. he’s relishing every moment of this, getting off on your anger and obvious response to him.

you try to pull away, your pride demanding you not give in to him. but his grip on you tightens, keeping you close. he knows exactly how much you used to love when he touched you—you still do— and he’s using it against you now.

with the feeling of his hand on your hip only adds to the maelstrom of emotions warring inside you. anger, desire, confusion—all of it mixing into a chaotic storm. you try to push him away, to resist the magnetic pull he seems to have over you. but when his tall body presses against yours, pinning you against the wall, you find yourself trapped between him and the cold, hard surface.

“get your hand off me,” you hiss through clenched teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control. but his touch only seems to fuel the heat building up inside you.

toji ignores your protest, leaning even more into you, his broad chest pressing against your heaving one. he's got you cornered, trapped between the wall and his body, and he knows it. that damn smirk just grows wider, his eyes glimmering with a mixture of arrogance and lust.

he leans closer still, his face hovering just above yours. you can feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy, sending another wave of unwanted heat through your body. your heart is hammering in your chest, the feeling of his body against yours makes it hard to think straight.

“make me,” he whispers, his voice is a challenge, a dare. he knows exactly how much he’s getting to you, and he’s enjoying every moment of it. his hand on your hip starts to move lower, fingers toying with the edge of your dress, almost as if he’s contemplating pulling it up, exposing more of your skin to his touch.

the thought of that—of him touching you, of being so vulnerable under his control yet again—sends a rush of heat through you, making you feel weak. you can’t let him do this, can’t let him win this game. his stupid, aroused little game.

your breath catches in your throat as you meet his piercing green eyes. all that lust, the longing, and every other feeling you’ve tried so hard to bury are clawing their way back to the surface, raw and intense. you hate that he still has this effect on you, that even after everything, one look from him can set your whole body on fire.

your eyes trail down to his costume, taking in the way his tall, muscular frame is wrapped in a sleek black suit with a white raincoat layered on top. fake blood splattered across his face only adds to the dark, dangerous vibe he's exuding, like some twisted version of patrick bateman come to life. his grin widens when he notices you looking him over, the arrogance in his gaze making your skin prickle.

then, his other hand tightens its grip on your nape, pulling you even closer, if that’s possible. you tilt your head up slightly, feeling his breath fan over your lips. his hold is firm, possessive, as if he’s reminding you who’s in control. the way his fingers dig into your skin sends a rush of heat through you, but the feeling of being trapped under him again—under his control—makes your stomach turn.

“you’re such an asshole,” you mutter, eyes narrowing at him as your heart races. your words come out more breathless than you’d like, but you refuse to let him see how much he's affecting you. you try to shift under his weight, but his hold only tightens, that cocky smirk still plastered on his face.

toji chuckles, obviously loving the effect he's having on you. he’s always gotten off on your stubbornness, on how hard you try to fight him. he leans even closer, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“aww, i missed that dirty mouth of yours,” he grins, clearly enjoying himself. his hand is still on your hip, fingers digging into your skin, as if he’s branding you with his touch. he leans in to nuzzle your neck, taking a moment to inhale your scent, his nose brushing against your sensitive skin.

his voice is a haunted music in your ear, the one that always lured people into madness, “you can try to pretend you don’t want me, but i know you too well,” he whispers, his breath sending another jolt of heat through you. his hand on your hip starts to move, slowly sliding up your side, caressing your skin through the thin material of your dress.

he’s so close to you now, and despite your best efforts, you can feel yourself starting to give in. you hate yourself for it, but you can't deny the pull he has over you. it’s wrong, it’s toxic, but god, it feels good, soooo good.

toji’s hand continues to wander over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. he knows every sensitive spot, every place that makes you shiver. you can feel your resolve weakening, your anger and frustration giving way to the raw desire his touch is igniting.

he pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes locking with yours. he can see the struggle playing out on your face, the mix of anger and need. he loves it, loves knowing that he still has this effect on you.

his eyes are dark and stormy with desire, blending like stupid potion with blue and red light. he knows he's winning, he can tell by the way your body betrays you, how your breath is coming in shallow gasps.

“you want me, just like you always did,” he says, his voice low and rough. he leans in again, his lips brushing against your jaw, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.

his words sink in, and as much as you want to deny them, you know deep down they're true. you've always wanted him. even through all the fights, all the heartache, a part of you has always craved his touch, his presence— him.

and now, with him so close, his body pressed against yours, his hand on your hip, it’s impossible to deny it. you’re caught in his web again, powerless to resist him. your breathing hitches as he continues to nuzzle your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, igniting a fire within you.

his lips on your skin are like fire, lighting your nerves on fire. you can feel yourself start to cave under his touch, your body responding to him despite your mind screaming otherwise.

you can’t let him win, again, you shouldn’t want this so badly, but his touch is awakening every primitive instinct in you. you bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan that’s threatening to escape your throat. toji lets out another deep chuckle against your skin, his hand on your hip tightening possessively. he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, and he is going to make sure this place you called hellhole is fill with your moan and whimper.

your attempts to hold back the growing desire inside you are futile. his touch is igniting a fire within you that you can't resist. your body betrays your efforts to remain unaffected, responding to his touch like a moth to a flame.

his lips, oh, his lips. they’re leaving a trail of fire wherever they go, every touch sending another wave of heat through you. you bite your lip to stifle the moan that’s building up in your throat, but it's no use. he can feel it building. he laughs against your skin, the sound deep and mocking, full of arrogance and knowing he’s winning, he leans in closer, his voice a low rumble in your ear, “i know you're trying to hold back, but i know you too well… i know exactly what you need.”

he’s not even trying to hide the superiority in his tone, knowing damn well he’s got you trapped, like a little mouse. his hand slides down to your thigh, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin, and a gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it.

he’s so damn cocky, hot, handsome, cocky bastard, so sure of himself, and it’s both infuriating and thrilling. you can’t believe you’re letting him affect you like this once more, but you’re trapped in his web, unable to break free.

“but we don’t want to let the others hear us, do we?” he whispers, his words dripping with suggestiveness. his hand slides up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair and giving it a light, dominant tug to arch your neck, exposing your throat to his lips. you let out a gasp, unable to suppress the sharp inhale as he exposes your flushed throat to his lips. “toji...” you whisper, your voice a mix of protest and plea.

his lips brush against your skin, moving down your throat in a trail of fire. he’s kissing, biting, his tongue tracing your pulse point, knowing damn well he’s driving you crazy. there’s a possessive edge to his touch, as if he’s marking you, claiming you as his own. his other hand is still on your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you tightly against him.

“that’s right,” he mutters against your skin, his words a command. “say my name like that, doll.”

his voice is a low gro against your throat, the command in his tone making you shiver. you can feel his lips, soft yet demanding, as they trail down the sensitive skin of your neck. his teeth glaze your pulse point, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

each kiss, each biting and touch igniting more flames beneath your skins. his lips and tongue are eager on setting your skin on fire, their touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake— worshipping your body, marking you as his own once again.

the dominant edge to his touch leaves no doubt that he’s in control, and despite your efforts to resist, you find yourself giving in to him once again.

your head spins with the onslaught of sensations, the mix of pain and pleasure he's igniting in you making it hard to think straight. you try to find your voice, to resist his command, but his demand pierces through your haze.

“toji...” you gasp, his name a breathless whisper on your lips, “please...” your voice a mix of a gasp and a moan, filled with the mixture of frustration and need he’s stirring within you.

toji chuckles against your skin after a low hum of satisfaction tears first from his throat, his lips curled in a satisfied smirk. he loves the sound of his name on your lips, the way you gasp and moan for him. he knows he’s winning, tearing down your defenses one kiss at a time— he always does.

his tongue still tracing patterns across your skin, mapping each pulse like he’s making sure you are still his little doll face— his sweet, sweet, girl.

“that’s it, doll,” he breathes, his voice a low rumble. “say my name again. let me hear you say it like you mean it.” he gives your hair another sharp tug, forcing your head back even further, his lips returning to your exposed neck. he bites down hard, marking your skin with his teeth, a possessive gesture.

“toji...” you gasp out once more, the word catching in your throat. the way he’s owning you, taking control with each bite, each mark he leaves behind, it’s both infuriating and thrilling, and yet you find yourself unable to resist him, unable to fight the desire that’s growing stronger with each moment.

you arch your back, pressing yourself against him, feeling his muscular form against you. he’s as solid as a wall, and the knowledge that he could overpower you in a heartbeat only adds to your need. his lips are on your neck, marking you with his teeth, claiming you as his own, and you know that when all of this is said and done, you’ll be covered in a beautiful, livid map of love bites—a reminder of his ownership.

you can feel his grip on your hip tightens as he presses you against the wall. his kisses are rough and possessive, each one marking you as his while his tongue explores your mouth. your world is spinning, and the only thing grounding you is the feel of his body against yours.

he pulls back, his lips shiny and wet from your kiss. his eyes are filled with a hunger that makes your stomach flutter, and the smirk on his face is both infuriating and attractive. he looks you up and down, taking in the way your body responds to him, the way you shiver under his touch. “you’re so damn eager for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “you crave my touch, don’t you, doll?”

“yes...” you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. the truth of his words hits you like a punch to the gut— you do crave him, you do need him. every fiber of your being yearns for his touch, for the way he claims you, marks you, owns you.

your hips buck against him instinctively, seeking friction, seeking relief from the ache between your thighs. “please,” you breathe, not even realizing you’re begging until the word leaves your lips. “i need...”

but you can’t finish the sentence, can’t articulate the desperation clawing at your insides. all you can do is look up at him with pleading eyes, silently imploring him to give you what you crave, to fill the void only he can satisfy. the air around you is thick with tension, heavy with unspoken promises and dark desires.

and maybe that’s the reason why he drags you into one of the corners, away from everyone’s eyes and ears, behind all the fake trees and other properties while he makes you bent down in front of him. your arms make a pressure on the fake tree trunk while toji behind you. a sound of zipper being pulled down filling the loud room before he flipping your dress up, showing him your ass shadow by the dim light of blue and red.

he groans lowly as he takes in the sight of your bare ass, the pale skin glowing in the dim light. without hesitation, he grips your hips, pulling you harder against the tree trunk. his free hand reaches around to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“fuckkk, you have no idea how good you look right now,” he growls, his hot breath fanning over your ear. his fingers tighten around your throat slightly, just enough to send a thrill of fear and excitement through you. he leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “’m going to fuck you so hard, doll.”

toji’s hands roam over your curves after he stands tall, gripping your hips tightly as he positions himself behind you. his fingers dig into your flesh, leaving bruises that will serve as a reminder of who owns you.

he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he growls, “look at this pretty ass, all bent over and waiting for me. you’re such a filthy little ex of mine, aren’t you, baby doll?”

his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack. the pain mixes deliciously with pleasure, and you cry out, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wood. toji grunt each time your ass jiggles from the slap. “i’m gonna cockwarming you, remind your pussy with how i feel deep inside you.”

“ahh!” you yelp as his hand comes crashing down on your ass, the sting of the impact sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. your legs tremble, threatening to give out beneath you, but toji’s grip on your hips keeps you steady.

the mix of pain and pleasure is intoxicating, and you can't help but push your ass back against him, craving more of that delicious friction. “yes,” you moan, your voice breathy and wanton. “miss you, toji. miss you inside me.”

as if spurred on by your words, toji freeing his cock from his tight pants— slapping your pussy the moment it’s free for the world to see. toji stroke his cock for a second before his thick cock sliding along your crack, teasing your entrance. you can feel the heat radiating off him, the promise of what’s to come making your head spin.

“oh, doll,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this tight little cunt.” he pushes forward, breaching your entrance with just the head of his dick. he pauses there, savoring the sensation of your walls clenching around him, before slowly sinking deeper into your heat.

“oh, my— fucking god!” you cry out, your voice echoing in the cavernous space as he fills you inch by delicious inch. the stretch is intense, your walls clinging to him like a vice, but the pleasure is overwhelming. it’s been far too long since you've felt him inside you, and your body remembers every contour, every texture.

“fuck, you still fit me like a glove,” he groans, his hips rolling gently as he works himself deeper inside you. his grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he starts to push harder, getting harder and suffocating each inch. you suck him too eagerly and toji almost losing his dignity if he couldn’t hold himself not to cum that second.

so he keeps to his promises, cockwarming you, stay in the moment. not just for you, but for him, to let him— more likely is his cock to get used to your tight little cunt once more. also for him to regain his composure to not to cum just by the feeling of your velvet gummy walls suffocating his aching cock.

as he bottoms out, you can feel every throbbing vein, every ridge of his thick cock buried deep within your quivering sheath. a soft moan escapes your lips at the sensation, and you push back against him, desperate for more.

“toji...” you pant, your nails digging into the bark of the tree as you try to anchor yourself against the onslaught of sensations. “god, it’s too big, too fucking big.”

“shhh, doll, just take it,” he coos, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “my cock was made for this tight little cunt.”

he pulls back, the head of his cock catches your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. when he sinks back in, it's like being split open, his thick shaft grinding against your innermost depths, yet he still refuse to move.

“feels so good wrapped around me again,” he groans, while his hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress.

“toji..” you gasp as he rubs your sensitive nipples, the stimulation sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. your back arches, pressing your chest further into his palms as you grind back against him, desperate for more contact, more friction.

“please...” you whimper, your voice trembling with need, “move, toji. fuck me, imma need you to move.” the words spill from your lips before you can stop them, a plea born of desperation and hunger. no longer care of the nagging feelings screaming inside your head for being so shameless for begging your ex-boyfriend to fuck you. you’ve craved this man’s touch for so long, and now that you have him, you can’t bear the thought of him holding back.

your hands reach back to grasp his thighs, urging him to pick up the pace, to claim you fully. “please move, need you,” you moan, your hips undulating in a shameless display of desire, “make me yours again.”

“you don’t know how many times i imagined having you like this,” he growls, one hand moving to fist in your hair, tugging your head back as he finally begins to thrust. each snap of his hips is punctuated by a lewd squelch, your juices coating his length, easing the way for him to plunge even deeper.

he sets a harsh pace, pounding into you with abandon, grunting with the effort. “mine, all fucking mine,” he snarls, punctuating his claim with a particularly harsh thrust. one hand snakes around to rub at your clit, the rough pads of his fingers circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. “come on, doll,” he urges, his voice a dark purr in your ear.

“‘m yours, fucking yours!” you babble incoherently, lost in the haze of pleasure, your mind consumed by nothing but the feel of him filling you, claiming you.

when his fingers find your clit, you nearly sob with relief, the added stimulation pushing you into heaven of pleasure. your inner muscles flutter and clench around him, trying to draw him in deeper, to keep him inside you forever.

whimpering and moaning as he pounds into you, the obscene sounds of the coupling filling the air. your mind goes blank, consumed by the relentless pleasure coursing through your veins. a high-pitched keen tears from your throat as he pounds into you, each brutal thrust driving the air from your lungs and stoking the fire in your veins.

“miss you, toji— mhmm..” you gasp, your words cutting off into a wordless cry. his fingers on your clit are electric, sending shocks of ecstasy straight to your core. each thrust, each circle of his fingers, it's overwhelming, the intensity of it all, and you can barely catch you breath between cries of rapture.

“sooo big,” a breathless chuckle leaving your lips as he hits a particularly deep spot, the pleasure bordering on pain. your legs shake violently, threatening to give out entirely as your nails holding to the tree trunk like it’s your life line.

in a second, flipped you over and leg held high, brushing your back against the tree trunk. he leans down to capture your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to pound into you. his tongue invades your mouth, tangling with yours in a fierce duel of passion.

unable to respond verbally, your screams of pleasure muffled by toji’s insistent kisses and the crushing pressure of his hand around your throat. the combination of sensations is overwhelming, your senses heightened to the point where every nerve ending feels electrified.

breaking the kiss, he growls against your skin, “look at me, doll.” his eyes bore into yours, dark with lust, as he drives into you with renewed vigor. “see how deep i am in you? how your greedy little cunt sucks me in?” he punctuates his words with sharp, deep thrusts that make your vision blur.

his words send shivers down your spine, the dark promise in his tone making your core clench around him. the knowledge that he’s taking you here, in this secluded spot, with no witnesses to your depravity, only adds to the forbidden thrill.

one hand leaves your hip to wrap around your throat once again, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race, to heighten the sensations.

his grip on your thigh is bruisingly tight as he lifts your leg higher, opening you up even further for his merciless assault. the new angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside you with devastating precision, and you can only cling to his shoulder and whimpering and moaning while he fucks you senseless.

as he lifts your leg higher, spreading you wider, you can feel every inch of his thick cock dragging along your inner walls, stroking that perfect spot over and over until you're teetering on the edge of madness.

“fuck, look at you, spread wide open for me,” he growls, his eyes blazing with possessive hunger as they rake over your debauched form. one hand slides up your stomach to palm your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple roughly.

he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he snarls, “keep quiet, don’t want anyone to hear that pretty moan of yours.” he grins wickedly before with renewed ferocity, he pistons into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the clearing.

the pinch of pain from his rough handling of your nipple only serves to heighten the pleasure, your body responding eagerly to his dominance. you are biting your lips, doing with all of your will power to keep your moan and whimper and gasp stay between you two. people screaming around the haunted house but all you could ever hear is the sound of your beating hear and toji’s sweet nothing.

his grip on your throat eases slightly, allowing you to breathe, but not enough for you to speak. he wants to hear those muffled whimpers, to feel you tremble under his touch. the hand on your breast squeezes harder, rolling the pebbled nipple between his fingers.

he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, “so responsive, always were. love watching you lose control.” his hand moves from your breast lower, fingers teasing your slick folds, circling your clit with deliberate slowness.

withdrawing almost completely, he teases the tip of his cock against your entrance, then plunges back into the hilt in one swift motion. a guttural groan escapes him at the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him once more.

your entire body quakes with anticipation as toji's fingers dance across your sensitive flesh, the light touch sending jolts of electricity through your nerves. when he withdraws, leaving you empty and aching, you let out a soft, needy whimper that's swallowed by his hand.

but the moment he pushes back in, filling you to the brim, your cry is cut off by a strangled moan. his thick length stretches you deliciously, hitting all the right spots, and you can’t help but buck my hips back to meet his thrusts.

“ahh, y-yes...” you manage to gasp out, your voice ragged with pleasure. the hand on your throat applies gentle pressure again, and you melt into it, surrendering yourself to the dominant rhythm of his body. “toji, please.. gonna— wanna cum,” you whining breathlessly while your trembling fingers wrap around his wrist, desperate for a support.

hearing your desperate plea, toji’s movements become more erratic, his thrusts growing shorter and more forceful. he can tell you’re close, can feel your pussy fluttering around his cock in response to his strokes.

“that’s it, doll, come for me,” he growls, his voice low and gravelly with lust, “show me what a good girl you are,” his fingers leave your clit to grasp your tight tightly, using the leverage to piston into you with wild abandon.

the hand still wrapped around your throat squeezes just a bit harder, a silent command for you to submit fully to the pleasure he’s giving you. “give it to me, baby doll, give it to me,” he demands, his eyes burning into yours with an intense, almost predatory gaze.

“cumming, ’m cumming,” and your world narrows down to the feeling of toji moving within you, the exquisite friction of his cock rubbing against your most sensitive spots. his commanding words and the pressure around your throat push you over the precipice, and your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave and your head thrown back as you let out a muffled moan.

a choked cry escapes your lips as your body convulses, waves of ecstasy radiating from your core and consuming you wholly. your nails dig into his shoulder and wrist as you ride out the intense pleasure, your pussy clamping and squirting down around toji’s cock in rhythmic pulses.

through the haze of your climax, you hear him groan deeply, feel the wetness of your fluid dripping down to his pants. that’s what he loves the most about you, always squirting.

toji’s grip on your throat tightens briefly as he feels your pussy spasm and gush around his cock, the sensation pushing him closer to his own release. he buries himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as he chases his climax.

“fuckkkk, yes, take it all, good girl, squirting on me,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. he leans in, capturing your mouth in another bruising kiss as he begins to move again, fucking you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

the hand on your thigh slides around to cup your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he picks up speed, driving into you with powerful, relentless strokes. he can feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending eruption.

breaking the kiss, he growls against your neck, “gotta fill you up, doll.” you are shaking, trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, but toji doesn’t give you time to recover. he keeps going, fucking you through the aftershocks, prolonging your pleasure until it borders on too much.

his hands roam your body greedily, groping and kneading your curves as if he can’t get enough of you. you can feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.

“please, do toji, fill me up,” you beg, your voice hoarse from the strain. you want to feel him coming undone inside you, want to milk him for every last drop. your legs tremble with the effort of keeping you upright, but you refuse to let go of him, determined to take everything he has to give.

with a loud groan, toji finally succumbs to the inevitable, his cock pulsing as he shoots stream after stream of hot cum deep into your spasming cunt along with a guttural moan tears from his throat, painting your insides white with his essence. he continues to pump his hips, grinding against you as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

he rocks into you with shallow thrusts, riding out the waves of his climax, ensuring that every last drop of his cum is pumped directly into your waiting womb. his hands grip your ass and throat hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he empties himself inside you before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

finally, with a shuddering sigh, he stills, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. he stays buried inside you, savoring the warmth and closeness for a long moment before slowly pulling out. a trickle of his cum follows, dripping down your thigh, and he smirks at the sight.

“take it all, fuck yeah,” he grunts before his face buried in the crook of your neck. he can feel your pussy milking him, greedy for every drop, and it sends shivers down his spine.

finally spent, he stills, letting you both catch their breaths. after a long moment, he pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. “always so good for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “my perfect baby doll.”

your body is limp, utterly spent from the intense coupling, and you lean heavily against the tree trunk, barely able to keep yourself upright. toji’s warm seed trickles out of you, marking your thighs with its presence, and you can’t help but shiver at the intimate display.

as he pulls out and presses his forehead against yours, you feel a strange sense of contentment washing over you. this is where you belong— in his arms, filled with his cum, cherished and owned.

when he looks at you with that tender expression, calling you his ‘perfect baby doll’, something in your chest swells..

he runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle now, a stark contrast to the dominant possessiveness of earlier. his eyes are studying you, no doubt taking pride in the sight of his claim upon you.

he stays close to you, letting you lean against him for support. his hands are now soothing, roaming over your body as he checks for any signs of distress. he can be tender when he wants to be, and right now, he's taking care of you— in his own way.

“good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “you took me so well, doll face.” he wraps his arm around your waist tighten, keeping you close to his side. he's not done with you yet, but he’ll give you a moment to recover. he knows you can be stubborn and independent, but right now, he wants to savor the power he has over you.

he looks around the small clearing, making sure nobody has stumbled upon their intimate moment. he won’t share this with anyone— you’re all his.

“come here,” he coaxes, tugging you gently towards a small changing room inside the haunted house. “let me clean you up.” his words are a gentle command, and you find yourself following his lead towards the small changing room. he guides you inside, shutting the door behind you.

the room is small, but clean, and there’s a small sink and a few towels laid out neatly. toji leads you over to a bench, sitting down and guiding you to stand between his legs.

he grabs a towel and wets it, the water cold against the warmth of your skin. he begins to wipe you down, his movements slow and deliberate. “such a mess i made of you,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of satisfaction and pride. he takes his time, cleaning up his mess of you, his touch more gentle and methodical than earlier.

your heart pounds in your chest as you feel his hands move with deliberate care, wiping away the sweat and mess he caused, his touch both calming and unnerving. the cold towel against your skin contrasts with the warmth radiating off him, making you shiver, but it’s not just the cold that sends a tremor through your body—it’s him. the way he speaks, the way he holds you as if you’re something fragile, a possession.

once he's satisfied with his work, he pulls you down onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his arms wrap around you, locking you in place, and for a moment, the steady thump of his heartbeat against your back almost lulls you into a false sense of security. but then, his words hit, soft and mocking against your ear.

“always so damn obedient,” he muses, his breath hot against your ear. “my good little doll.”

those words send a jolt of irritation through you, snapping you out of the daze his presence always seems to trap you in. your hands instinctively rise to his broad shoulders, fingers digging in slightly as you lean your head back, just enough to glare up at him. your voice comes out in a quiet mutter, but there's defiance in your tone.

“i’m not your little doll,” you whisper, tightening your grip on his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin just enough to make your point. you want him to know you’re not his to control, not his to manipulate, no matter how much he tries to wrap you around his finger.

he lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest, clearly amused by your resistance. his muscles tensing slightly as your nails dig into his skin. he's not bothered by your show of defiance— in fact, he seems to find it amusing.

he turns you slightly in his lap, his hand cradling your chin as he forces you to look at him. “oh really?” he asks, his voice a taunting purr. “then why are you here, doll face? why are you letting me hold you, touch you, claim you like you’re mine? deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.”

he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your jawline, his hand still holding your chin tightly. “you can try to fight it all you want, but we both know you belong to me. your body, your mind, your soul... all mine. and deep down, you like it, don't you? being my doll, being controlled and cared for by me.”

he runs his tongue over your skin lazily, tasting you. “don't deny it, doll. we both know you're just playing a game, trying to act tough.”

you grit your teeth as his lips graze your jawline, his hold on your chin firm, keeping you in place. the way he talks, the smugness in his voice, it makes your blood boil. “all mine,” he says, and the worst part is the part of you that aches at his words, that dangerous pull you’ve always felt toward him. you hate that he knows it. hates that he’s always had this twisted power over you.

as he runs his tongue over your skin, you feel a surge of anger rise in your chest. “don’t deny it, doll,” his voice snakes into your mind, coaxing out that doubt, that part of you that still wants to give in. but you're not going to let him win this time, not like this.

you glare at him, grumbling under your breath, “i’m not your fucking doll,” before pushing off his lap, or at least trying to. his hands tighten around your hips, keeping you firmly in place as he looks at you with that same cocky smirk, daring you to keep fighting. his fingers dig into your skin, his grip possessive, as if he's reminding you just how easily he can keep you here, keep you wrapped in his control.

your mind swirls with frustration, battling between the anger at him and the anger at yourself for falling back into this. how did you end up here again? you swore you’d never let him get to you like this, swore you wouldn’t be sucked back into the same toxic cycle. yet here you are, stuck in the same shit hole of a situation with your ex, the very man you thought you’d left behind.

you glare up at him, your chest heaving with a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, longing—and you hate that your body still reacts to him, even now.

he watches you struggle against him, his smirk growing wider as he sees the mixture of frustration and anger in your eyes. he knows you're a fighter, stubborn till the end, but he also knows how to push your buttons, how to break through that strong exterior and get to the parts of you that are still soft and fragile.

as he holds you in place, his hands gripping your hips with a possessiveness that's both infuriating and arousing, he leans in close— he always did like to invade your personal space. “you're just making it harder on yourself, doll face,” he says, his voice a low taunt. “why fight it, huh? why resist what we both know you want?” he nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“be a good girl and stop resisting,” he coos, one hand slipping under your shirt, his thumb tracing a slow circle on your hip. “you know you can’t resist me, doll. you never could.”

toji’s teeth graze over your pulse point, his soft nibbles making it harder to focus on your anger. every flick of his tongue, every gentle bite, is breaking down your defenses piece by piece, and he knows it. you can feel him smirk against your skin, sensing the shift in your resolve as your body responds despite your best efforts.

suddenly, he pulls back, his fingers still holding your hips as he tilts your chin up to look into your eyes. his gaze is intense, a mix of desire and something more—something that makes your breath catch in your throat. “how about we get out of this hellhole?” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, the arrogance replaced with something a little more serious. “you and me, we can talk. figure out this thing between us.”

his eyes flicker with intent, and for a moment, you wonder if he really wants to talk or if he’s just using this as another way to pull you back into his orbit. “no bullshit, no games,” he adds, his voice softer now, though the grip on your hips remains firm, like he’s making sure you won’t slip away before he can get you to agree.

the idea of leaving this place, of escaping the haunted house and confronting whatever this is between you two, makes your heart pound for a different reason. there’s something in his eyes that says he’s serious, but you can’t help but wonder if this is just another one of his games, another way for him to keep you tangled up in his web.

he can see the conflict in your eyes, the way your mind is whirling with doubt and hesitation. he knows you're torn, caught between the anger and the attraction that still pulls you towards him. he also knows that if he doesn’t push now, you'll likely slip through his fingers again, and he's not keen on giving you that chance.

he leans in a little closer, his body pressed against yours as he continues to hold your hips in a firm grip. “we can go to my place. have a private conversation. we both know we need to talk.” his voice is softer now, less arrogant and more serious. he’s pushing the right buttons, he knows it. the thought of having you in his territory, in his space, is too tempting for him to resist. he wants you, he wants to keep you close, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

“no bullshit, no games,” he repeats, his eyes never leaving yours. “just an honest conversation, doll face.“

you let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of your conflicting emotions settle over you. the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but so is the pull he has over you—the way his words, his touch, his presence always seem to get to you, no matter how hard you try to fight it. you hate that part of yourself, the part that still craves his attention, his closeness.

as his body presses against yours, his grip firm but not painful, you can feel the sincerity in his tone. for once, the arrogance is stripped away, and he’s giving you something real—at least, it seems like it. you look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign that this is just another one of his manipulations, but you find nothing but intent in his gaze.

“alright,” you mutter, the word slipping out before you can stop yourself. you’re still torn, still unsure, but part of you wants to see where this will lead. maybe he’s right. maybe you both need to talk, to figure out what this messed-up relationship is, if it even exists anymore.

but before he can get too comfortable, you glare back at him, your voice sharp as you narrow your eyes. “but if you’re playing me, toji, i swear i’ll hunt you down,” you warn, your tone deadly serious despite the tension still buzzing between you.

his lips twitch into a dangerous smirk as you utter the word 'alright', and the grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly. he knows he's got you now, that he's pulled you back in with just a few words and a hint of sincerity.

but he’s not foolish enough to ignore your warning. he knows you well enough to know the threat is real, and the thought of being hunted by you both excites and terrifies him.

“play you?” he repeats, the smirk on his face never wavering. “what happened to ‘no bullshit, no games’?“

you roll your eyes at his cocky response, muttering under your breath, “i don’t know, you’re an asshole most of the time.” with a small huff, you push yourself up from his lap, feeling the tension in the air shift slightly as you create some distance between you. it feels good to stand your ground again, even if you just agreed to leave with him.

his grip loosens but doesn’t fully let go, his fingers grazing your skin as you move. he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your comment, but there’s a glint of something more in his eyes—like he enjoys watching you push back. toji’s always been like this, enjoying the push and pull between the two of you.

he lets you create some distance, but his fingers still linger on your skin, still claiming a piece of you even as you move away. he chuckles at your muttered insult, the smirk on his face never wavering.

“you should know by now that being an ass is what i do best, doll face,” he mocks, his tone dripping with arrogance. his eyes rake over your frame, appreciating the sight of you standing up to him, even if it's a futile attempt (at least, that's what he thinks).

you huff at his remark, your frustration bubbling up as you reply, “yeah, sadly.” a frown settles on your face, and you can feel your resolve wavering slightly in the face of his arrogance. crossing your arms, you try to maintain your tough exterior, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to keep that up.

with a sigh, you extend your hand toward him, the gesture feeling surprisingly intimate given the situation. “let’s just get out of here,” you say, your voice firm. “i don’t want to spend another minute in this hellhole.”

toji’s smirk widens as he takes your hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. he can sense the mix of emotions swirling in you—frustration, desire, and a hint of resignation. “your wish is my command, doll face,” he replies, his tone teasing yet sincere. he leads you toward the exit, fingers intertwined, the connection between you both lingering as you step into the darkness outside, leaving the haunted house behind.

TAGLIST:

@fairiesthrum @22marie16 @pe4rl-diver @meowingtatum @prettymoonlightsworld @sonotpattismith @leidypop @anthastudios @komicutz @blueemochii @rumi-rants @wakashudou @ameeeeeliie @reverrieee @iheartsuya @starlightglimmersworld @m00nyt0astforever @sugusmonkeyy @aerareads @r0ckst4rjk @osakis-gf @xoxo1mira

[doll3tt33]

╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖┆soon to be inactive┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 will come back to occasionally post and drop off a bot of the evans if I make any 𝜗𝜚 still a colin girlie

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - playing dangerous ❥ colin zabel

a day in the life of a cleaner for homelander ❥ homelander

check your window, he’s at your window ❥ tate langdon

Goodbye for now! ♡

Requests are closed cuz I’m moving on with other interests, so this account wont be as active anymore. might come back one day.

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker, + characters from The Boys

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Getting arrested by Colin… again ❀

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

perv!Tate snapping photos of you in the school’s bathroom ✧

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

[bloodmoonmuses]

stereo 127 | johnny suh

(for @lovesuhng !!! I hope you like it!!!)

genre: johnny suh x reader, college au, teacher's assistant! johnny, friends to lovers

warnings: none!

summary: johnny is your campus crush. he also happens to be the teaching assistant in your music history class. when you (innocently) ask for help on a project, you end up learning about more than just music.

You’re a bit obsessed with this guy who skates around campus- or the concept of him, more accurately. You don’t even know his name. All you know is that last semester, you (accidentally) memorized his schedule, resulting in you walking to certain classes a few minutes earlier than necessary to catch a glimpse of him. These glimpses were merely a blur, whipping past you like an apparition. He was a ghost to you, and you enjoyed being haunted by him. 

Your friends made fun of you for having a campus crush, arguing that it’s not real since you don’t actually know him. However, you honestly preferred the distance. Then, you could fill in the gaps in your knowledge with your own imagination. Admiring him from afar worked for a while- that is, until the start of Spring semester. 

When you saunter into your music history class, a random elective you took for fun, you’re met with the elusive Skater Boy. You knew he was tall, but he’s even taller than you’d imagined in your daydreams. You glance at him briefly, before going to take a seat at a desk near the back. 

Skater Boy chats with a few of his friends at the front of the classroom, then sits next to the teacher’s desk when the professor enters. You infer that he must be the teacher’s assistant. 

This was a big problem. Surely, you’ll fail this class now. There’s simply no way you’ll be able to focus. The breathy laughs that escape him are already distracting you to the point of being almost unbearable. His smile is so breezy, like a wave catching the wind. He looks just as cool here in the classroom as he does on his skateboard.

The underlying crush that lay dormant in you begins to boil, and you know it will soon bubble over, scalding everything in its wake. You couldn’t wait for the burn. In fact, you aimed to spur it on sooner. 

You make a concerted effort to pay attention to the professor’s spiel, pulling out your notebook to take notes. It's syllabus day, sure, but you want to look studious. The first assignment of the semester is to research the history of your favorite music genre. 

Despite your efforts to focus, your eyes drift to the stickers that adorn Skater Boy’s laptop: Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, an Arctic Monkeys logo and a cartoon surfboard. You want to know everything he likes and commit the list to memory. You want to sew his idiosyncrasies into a quilt and blanket him with your loving knowledge of them.

The professor introduces him as Johnny Suh- a third year music composition major. Now the ghost has a name.

—

You look at the office hours on the bottom of your syllabus. Johnny would be in office in lieu of your professor for the majority of the semester. Would it be so bad to pop in and ask him for help on the first assignment? 

While you admittedly feel silly, walking to the Arts and Humanities building looking a bit too gussied up, you swallow the nervousness. You stand in front of the room, reading the placard:

Professor: Dr. Moon

TA: Johnny Suh 

You knock on the office door. On the third knock Johnny says, “Come on in!”

Meekly, you enter. He’s too real, too tangible, in this small space. You’ve never been within touching distance of him. The prospect makes your fingers tingle. Professor Moon has an insane book collection, two bookcases spanning the walls opposite one another. The rest of the office is cluttered with a slew of instruments.

Johnny is wearing a backwards hat and quarter sleeve sweater. Your eyes graze the expanse of his forearms, then drift upwards. There’s a pen clipped to his collar and another in between his lips. It’s the most tantalizing pen you’ve ever seen. Finally, you make eye contact. 

Introducing yourself, you say, “Hi, my name is _____. I’m in the music history course.”

“Nice to meet you.!” He takes the pen out of his mouth, and your eyes follow it forlornly. That could’ve stayed. “How can I help?” 

Johnny gathers some papers, places them in a neat stack at the center of the desk, then sits on the edge of it.

“Um, I’m a non-major. So, I’m struggling a bit with the first assignment.”

Johnny nods understandingly. “Ah, the dreaded favorite genre assignment. What’d you pick?”

“Pop punk,” you say.

“Fascinating. You don’t strike me as a punk person.”

You shrug. “Grew up on it.”

“Have you been to the record store near campus?”  

You shake your head.

“It’s called Stereo 127. I think it would be cool to listen to some records and base your research on specific albums. Then you’ll have a clearer framework for when it’s time to write the paper.”

“Thanks. Um,” you clear your throat, “Would you mind… showing me?”

“The record store? Yeah, sure. No problem. Does this weekend work for you?” Johnny asks.

“Sounds good!”

—

Stereo 127 is densely packed with all sorts of records, mimicking the state of Dr. Moon’s office. There’s a classmate of yours named Jaehyun who’s keeping watch of the store. He walks around the shop, reorganizing things as he sees fit. As you peruse the albums, you’re peeking at Johnny over the records, trying to catch his eye. Unlike you, Johnny is actually scanning the selection, genuinely trying to help you.

“Let’s get the obvious ones out the way,” he says, holding a Blink-182 record. He’s somehow managed to track down a copy of their debut album, Cheshire Cat.  

“If Cheshire Cat is an ‘obvious’ pick to you, then I’m way out of my depth,” you confess.

“A little pretentiousness never hurt anyone,” Johnny replies. 

So far, you have a copy of Green Day’s Nimrod (which you’re quite excited about) and Paramore’s newest album. As the minutes pass, you get gradually more enraptured by the thicket of albums. Before you know it, you’ve accumulated quite a few records. After a bit, you sidle up to Johnny, peering over his shoulder to check out his picks. You spot a Yellowcard compilation record.

“This is more fun than I thought it’d be,” you pipe, turning to face Johnny. His face floods with fondness when he sees the stack of albums in your arms, caramel eyes warming you from the inside out. 

“Yeah, you have a good eye,” he retorts. “I’ve been meaning to check out a few other shops around town. Y’know. To compare selections.” He’s sputtering now, having fallen into a cough fit.

“You okay buddy?” you say, chuckling. You gingerly pat his back, holding back a full blown laugh as Johnny continues to cough.

He waves you off, but you pat his back once more for good measure.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Johnny says. When he regains his composure, he continues. “I was just wondering… Are you busy on the 27th?”

—

You’re sprinting across campus, eager to meet Johnny outside of the boys’ dorm. It’s been two weeks since you’ve last seen him. He’s leaning against the building as he waits for you, clad in a page boy cap (which he’s wearing backwards again) and tank top. You allow yourself a quick glance at his arms, immediately regretting it as your face heats up. When he spots you, Johnny waves excitedly, the width of his smile making your own double in size.

After your first excursion, Johnny had asked for your number (“in case you have questions on the assignment!” he had said). Since then, the two of you have texted occasionally, mostly about school.

The record store he takes you to this time is called The Boot. It’s less trendy than Stereo 127 and less organized as well. Most of the vinyls are in bins, withering at the edges and clearly sundamaged. Johnny says he comes here to find obscure records to spin during his DJ sets, not to necessarily hunt for additions to his collection. 

“So, you’re a music composition major?” you ask as you crouch down to sift through a box.

Johnny nods. “With a minor in photography.”

“Favorite camera brand?”

“Nikon for sure, but I mostly shoot 33mm film.”

“How pretentious,” you say.

“Oh, you love it.” This is true, you do love it. 

Johnny continues. “I found another record store for us to try out after this one.”

“Yeah, just text me whenever.”

—

You had finished your paper days ago, so the subsequent record store outing was completely unnecessary to a certain extent. Johnny had no choice but to admit that he simply wanted to hang out with you- though, he’s not complaining. 

The final record store you visit with Johnny is called WAYVE. This time, he picks you up in his car to take you there- a dinky pick up truck with a shitty paint job.

“Before we head out- “ Johnny reaches over, opening the glove department in front of you. His hand brushes your leg briefly.. He pulls out a CD case and places it in your lap.

“I made a playlist for you.” He can’t look you in the eyes properly. You’ve never seen him look this sheepish.

Johnny continues. “Not vinyl, I know, but I wanted to decorate the cover.” Taped to the front of the jewel case is a polaroid of you perusing records. In the photo, your brows are furrowed in concentration.

“When did you even take this, you weirdo?”

“A few weeks ago at The Boot. The lighting was nice.”

You’re practically buzzing with excitement when you get home, racing to put the CD in your busted boombox. The first song on the playlist is Going Away to College by Blink-182.

“I haven't been this scared in a long time

And I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine

Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody

This world's an ugly place, but you're so beautiful to me.”

—

You got a B minus on the paper, which is better than you would've done without Johnny’s help. However, the project is the furthest thing from your mind. 

All you can think about is the lyrics of Going Away to College. You’re trying not to read into things, but Johnny wasn’t the most subtle. 

Maybe you should make a playlist for him. Or buy him a record. According to him, Johnny’s not a true collector- that was reserved for cameras. Maybe he’d appreciate it.

Johnny spots you walking to class (though he’s sure your next one isn’t for another half hour). He skates over to you, stopping right at your feet. You shriek, almost stumbling backwards.

“What the hell, Johnny?”

He dismounts his skateboard, holding it under his arm nonchalantly.  “Do you wanna hang out somewhere other than a record store?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

—

The skatepark is overstimulating in the best way. After trying (and failing) to teach you how to do an ollie for an hour, the two of you set up a picnic off to the side of the halfpipe. You eat kimbap off Johnny’s skateboard, using it as a little table.

“Sorry you got a B on your paper, by the way. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t grade it.” 

“It’s okay. I’d rather earn a B from Professor Moon than have your biased ass give me a higher grade than I deserve.”

Johnny places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically.

“Um, what about academic integrity? I would do nothing of the sort!” he insists.

“Oh come on, you’re obsessed with me,” you say, half-joking. To your surprise, Johnny nods to himself, agreeing with you.

“Only a healthy amount though.”

When you and Johnny finish the kimbap, he scooches next to you. The sun is setting, oranges slowly darkening into a wash of deep indigo. You shiver as the sun dips beneath the horizon. Johnny places his jacket across your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say.

“No problem.”

You place your head on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Um, and thanks for the playlist too. It’s really good.”

“Yeah?”

“It sorta had… a theme to it.”

Johnny suddenly pulls out from under you, leaving you to stumble around for a bit as you catch yourself. When he turns to you, he stares, caramel eyes pouring into your own. You feel warm in spite of the chilly breeze.

“I’ve never really been good with words,” Johnny confesses. “I figured I’d let the music do the talking.”

With that, he takes your face into his hands. He traces your features with the pads of his fingers- running them over your eyebrows, the lids of your closed eyes, your nose and, finally, your mouth. When he’s satisfied, he places a faint kiss upon your lips. 

He pulls back, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m so glad my pretentious bullshit doesn’t give you the ick,” Johnny says.

“Only a healthy amount,” you say through a smile. 

Suddenly, you initiate another kiss, your lips crashing into his fervently. When Johnny recovers from the initial shock, you deepen the kiss further. He’s a patient kisser, never demanding too much or taking more than he’s given. This only heightens your hunger for him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. When the two of you come up for air, you linger with Johnny still in your embrace, his eyes crinkling at the edges with pure joy.

a/n: currently unedited + feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 4: Haunted house - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of gore, possession, all kinds of spooky stuff.

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: How it’d be like to go to the haunted house with the reader

Notes: Really late upload, but oh well. I may remove some characters if I have no inspiration for them but if you don't see your favorite send me an ask!

Jason Voorhees: Kind of loves it. He loves the thrill of it, even though he screams every time there’s a jump scare. He always grabs you by your shoulders and holds you tight while closing his eyes when something gets in both of your faces. At first you think you should stop but after a few seconds, you see Jason’s laugh. “Again.” Would be all he would tell you when you meet him outside the haunted house, hand in hand. This would quickly become one of Jason’s favorite traditions come Halloween time.

Michael Myers: Not phased by anything at all. If anything jumps at him he just stands right in front of it, punches or shoves it when it gets in his face or yours. Honestly he kind of just wants to get this over-with. The more you two go to haunted house, the more people know Michael’s notorious reactions, the more they seem to dread scaring you both. He kind of ruins the experience, but what did you expect. Michael doesn’t make half of the choices anyway, just kind of follows you around.

Tiffany Valentine: Actually would really enjoy it. She’d dress up with as well with you, doing your make up and hair beforehand. It’s the most fun part to her. She’d love to go to every part in the haunted house, the clown exhibit, the ghost exhibit, all of it. She loves the scares and the thrills of the screams both coming from you both. Sometimes Tiffany would scream at the screamer back then laugh about it with you. So yes, haunted houses with Tiffany is the best.

Billy Loomis: Not too interested, but would go to some kind of horror fair or festival with you, mostly wanting to go to the horror/gore part of it. Anything having to do with a slaughterhouse theme or something violent would get Billy into it. He also laughs when a jumpscare comes up, squeezing your hand and looking to you with a twisted smile. The more you both have fun at haunted houses, the more he’s encouraged to go. Kind of thinks it’s cute that you get scared and is more than willing to go first and have you hide behind him.

Stu Macher: THE best most excited baby. He’s so thrilled, haunted houses are his favorite parts of Halloween. Stu would hands down have a collection of flyers to show you different places you two just HAVE to visit. Super impatient with the line though, he’s such a baby. If the line won’t move, he sits down on the sidewalk looking up to you as he complains about the line. Also laughs when you or him scream, he even grabs some of the scarers, which of course is forbidden but Stu does it anyway. You’d have to run out sometimes because of it.

Patrick Bateman: Not very fond of haunted houses, he doesn’t see the point in them at all. You’d have to beg and beg and beg for Patrick to take you. Of course he probably wouldn’t change his mind until the night of. Finally though, after many tantrums and tears, he decides to take you, not really knowing what to expect. Of course it’s the slaughterhouse that catches his attention, so much so that he even wants to go to it a second time. Before you know it, you’re the one following him around to the exhibits.

Leatherface: This is so funny to me. Bubba is one of the biggest, strongest on this list, but he can also be the biggest scardy-cat of it too. He doesn’t really understand what’s going on or what the actual concept of the haunted houses are. You’d have to explain to him that they’re not real ghosts and there’s nothing really to be afraid of. He’s confident at first, but after the second scare, he’s a little bit more on edge. You’d have to lead, he’d cling onto you for dear life, screaming when something would grab him from behind. It’s kind of cute though.

Harley Quinn: ALSO the best at the haunted house game. She’s is all into it. Instead of bar hopping, you’d go haunted house hopping. Harley loves everything, from the mad science exhibit to the zombie exhibit, she would give every single one of them a try. Of course nothing scares Harley, she’d laugh at the screams and run towards the scarers. She’d have you accompany her all night until you’re no longer able to stand up. This would quickly become one of her favorite parts of Halloween and would perk up at any sign of a haunted house, whether it’s a little tacky one or something a little bit more realistic.

Poison Ivy: Not too interested in the concept of haunted houses, but if it’s date night and there’s nothing else to do, she’d consider it. You’d have to choose wisely though, you knew if Ivy didn’t like something within the first twenty minutes, she wouldn’t waste her time on it again. You knew she was more into psychological torture, so perhaps something to do with possession or a little bit less gruesome and more mind melting. If she’d really like it, she would tell you haunted houses would now be added to your list of activities to do on date night in the future, if not, she’d take control of the planning and make the decisions again.

Bruce Wayne: Honestly would love to take you to a haunted house. Never had been in one personally or really cared to, usually he’d go to Halloween parties if he was in the mood but he wants to see you enjoying the holidays. Of course nothing would really phase him, but his heart would skip a beat feeling you clutch onto him. Whether it’s criminals or scare actors, you still hide behind him for safety. Seeing you have fun is the most important thing to him, so when he's not home by the time he promises, he ends up making it up to you by taking you to a haunted house tour, renting it off for just you two.

Jason Todd: He doesn’t like to see you scared, even if it’s for Halloween. Of course he loves the thrill or used to, but not where you have to pay the price. Seeing you in distressed or frightened in any way would tug at his heart strings. However, if you insist on going, Jason would be more than happy to take you. You’d plan out a whole day to visit haunted houses, then go out to eat and rank the places over burgers and iced drinks.

Billy Hargrove: All up for it. This was one of his favorite things to do as a child, one of the more wholesome memories. Being scared with tacky haunted houses was a constant memory that came up when Halloween would come around so of course he was up for it when you mentioned it. Billy would go to any you wanted to, but the one that would freak him out the most would be an alien one. It’d stay engrained in his brain for the rest of the night. He’d hold your hand and take the lead every time, making sure you were close to him at all times, laughing it off when he himself would get scared with a jumpscare.

Steve Harrington: Would LOVE it. This is also one of his favorite Halloween traditions, but when you brought up haunted houses, he had in mind something a little bit less scary and perhaps a little more cheesy. Still, he’d go with you and his overprotective boyfriend instincts would kick in. Holding you close and tightly, scoping out the place as he would take his next step. Kind of the best at keeping you safe no matter how much he’s screaming. After the exhibit there would be a lot of talk about what you saw and tons of laughter at how silly you both probably looked.

Steve Rogers: Never really gave it a thought, but he knows Halloween is one of your favorite holidays, so if taking you to a haunted house to scare you shitless is what’s going to make you happy then so be it. Kind of uneasy though, of course, also has overprotective boyfriend instincts. Steve has to fight the urge to not react every time someone jumps out in front of you. Even if you’re not scared, he’s still holding you a little too tight and close to him, not that you mind it though. “Man, that was creepy, let’s go again.” He’d complain after leaving the clown exhibit.

Bucky Barnes: Kind of dreads it at first, he doesn’t really like to participate in haunted houses. Usually not a fan of the wait, the people and it’s just overall not a great situation to put yourself in, but if you really wanted to then going once wasn’t going to kill him. He’d hold your hand throughout the whole time, unsure if it was for your comfort or his own. Bucky would flinch only at a couple of scares, taking a step back, but still taking to lead with you, trying just to find the end to this place. Overall, not the most enthusiastic on this list, but still fun to go with if you’re a big baby.

Wanda Maximoff: Very fun to go with. She’s excited for haunted houses when you explain to her the concept of them. Wanda admits she’s never been to one, so you’d have to take the lead and explain to her the processes. You’d choose the creepy doll exhibit, the clown one and the vampire exhibit to start, all exhibits she would enjoy and she does! Wanda would definitely become an adrenaline junkie when it comes to haunted houses, loving the scares and screams and aesthetics of it all. Overall, super fun to go with!

Loki Laufeyson: Doesn’t understand them one bit, but it makes little y/n excited so he guesses it wouldn’t be too horrible to go to. He doesn’t mind the wait, listening to you talk endlessly about what you wanted to see and what exhibits you were excited for as well as what you think he’d like and what you think he wouldn’t like. Either way, he just wants to spend time with you and this would be a perfect date for a little excitement in the night. Takes on the overprotective boyfriend roll as well, holding you tightly beside him, making sure you don’t stay too far behind and aren’t in the frontline of the scarer. “Why do you like to do this to yourself? Don’t the avengers provide you with enough fear?” He’d tease you while he wipes your harmless tears after the visit.

Cloud Strife: Also doesn’t understand them, but still willing to with you. Kind of takes it too seriously when you get scared or when something is trying to attack you, but not really when it stops right in front of your nose. Either way doesn’t really like the fear it puts on your face. You assure him it’s only for show and you were actually really having fun, but either way, the whole thing just isn’t super fun for Cloud seeing you worked up like this, after the second exhibit you would agree to just go see the costumes and floats, anything that wasn’t involving someone else in a costume trying to strike fear into your heart.

Aerith Gainsborough: Kind of excited for it, likes the concept and wants to see it before her. Does little dances and hand gestures while waiting in line as you get closer to entrance. Wants to see the ghost exhibit first then the vampire one. Would even wear her fake fangs to the exhibit. Overall the only character to turn this date into a wholesome one despite what you were doing. Gasps and laughs would be her reaction to the sudden jumpscares and it’s actually very cute.

Sebastian Michaelis: Wouldn’t be an idea for him to go, but if you insisted this would be a fun date, then he would have no other choice than to comply. Sebastian follows after you, keeping his usual unimpressed face as different scarers would jump before you two. The only time he would step forwards is if the person was getting too close to you, he’d look at them with a smile and have you continue your path. Overall the experience would be mostly for your fun rather than his. Sebastian is only there to keep you safe.

Spencer Reid: All for it! Loves haunted houses, it’s one of his favorite traditions. Compiles a list of haunted house events coming up and has you help him choose where to go. You both would wear cute little costumes or pumpkin themed clothing on the way there. Lots of singing and laughing on the drive, it’d be a pretty fun experience. Spencer would lead to you to different exhibits, laughing and screaming along with you at the sudden appearances of those in terrifying costumes. You’d end the night talking about your favorite exhibits and costumes, what you wanted to do next time and what you planned for your next visit.

[claryshifts]

Making American Horror Story DRs "Safe"

I'll update this with each season I watch! Most of this will focus on one of the "Evans" bc I know a lot of yall horny bastards wanna hop on him (real) Each section will have an "ultra safe" paragraph and a "safe as possible?" paragraph. idk -Murder House: Option One: The house isn't possessed or whatever you want to call it. Hell, you don't even have to live in it. Though Tate has problems with his mom (that adds a lot to his character, so I'd still 'keep that'), he's never had terrible thoughts of doing what he did at that school or any other gross things. I personally would still 'script out' the self-harm. Wouldn't want my partner to suffer that Option Two: If you still want that ghostly experience, then sure, by all means, live in the haunted house. but maybe cut out the satan part... Also script the ghosts don't have shitty timing (they don't bother you in the bathroom or when you're sleeping, for ex). If you want Tate as a ghost and not alive, still, don't date a ghost mass yknow what  😭  😭  BONUS: instead of tate, date violet 🥰🥰 -Asylum: Option One: You can live a nice quiet life with Kit. it's the 60s though, so if you're fem/poc/lgbt/etc, keep that in mind. whenever I go to a reality in the past I script I don't get bored without technology lol Option Two: have fun at the asylum, ig, boo. If you want some edgy lore, pls don't script you're a psycho killer or something omg 😭. Script none of the people in charge inflect punishments on you. If you really wanna get freaky in that musty place, script you don't get caught... and that its not all musty... -Coven: I got a lot to say bc I think Imma make a script for this too haha Option One: no scary demon devils or whatever. Uh, Kyle isn't treated like a sex object???? Nothing bad happens to Nan (she deserves better). If Kyle has to die (that sounds so weird to say) for your lore or whatever, don't purposely give him a traumatizing experience. this isn't a fan fic,, that's your REALITY. Honestly you could just script you're a silly little witch hanging out in New Orleans and call it a day. Madison isn't annoying af. No Axe Man. LaLaurie being Queenie's "slave" was deserved but maybe just script her 'out' altogether... Option Two: Okay, so you want the drama. Have the drama! Still no demon devils though cuz that does NOT sound fun. Script you and the people you care about are all safe from harm. If Kyle HAS to go through that terrible experience (I'm his biggest defender as you can tell), at least keep Madison and Zoe away or at bay bc seeing them fight over a guy who can't even say "food" and OBVIOUSLY can't verbally consent was so uncomfy, for me at least. -Freak Show: Option One: no scary clowns. The "freaks" aren't treated like shit. Neal Patrick Harris doesn't show up with his puppet??? No one is trying to make money off of the freaks. None of them are murdered or harmed. Option Two: Ig if you still want the plot they still have to be treated pretty shitty. Still would apply everything else though, as well as the fact nothing happens to you.

-Hotel: Option One: Ok look James March. Wonderful man. Make him NOT a serial killer omg. If you get with him I'm convinced a relationship with him would be straight up Morticia and Gomez uishfuihfjsf I want him so bad. Anyway, if he's your man keep the countess off your back, if you keep her there at all. I wouldn't recommend making yourself a ghost bc idk WTFFF that would mean for you spiritually. You could be sexy March's sexy human partner. Or the countess' partner. Anyone's partner. but alive. Um no 10 commandment killings of any sort, and no vampire children???

Option Two: ngl idk how else to put this?? idk if there should be an option 2 ;-;

Currently on Roanoke! this season is so boring I might not write anything for it

[andoutofharm]

there are two types of gay people on halloween that are perfectly captured by the dichotomy between boygenius’s halloween show:

(perfectly on theme as the father, the son, and the holy spirit with their band as angels; elegant and haunting and beautiful)

and fall out boy’s halloween show:

(their openers dressed as Them and old people, their crew dressed as ghosts with hats, there was no coherent theme whatsoever besides HALLOWEEN!!!!, andy stripped off his costume almost immediately, patrick sweated off his makeup then took off his wig and spent the rest of the show in his stripy pants, pete first came out with nn dressed as a pumpkin, didnt even make it through a full song with his wolf mask before he was just wearing a nightgown, then changed into a skeleton onesie for a bit only to strip it down to his waist to wear with the mesh and roses. also he threw candy into the crowd)

in conclusion i love them both 10/10 on all counts

[akascow]

happy spooky szn

heres all my horror/thriller ooak dolls made this year >:)

plus a lil retrospective for each under the cut :)

Peter Graham (Hereditary)- my fave of all of them :3 hes so cutie patootie i love him the hair and the faceup just came toegther so well eugh

Freddy Kreuger (Nightmare on Elm Street)- LOVE HER i was kinda iffy on the dress when making it BUT I LOVE HOW IT TURNED OUT, and not to toot my own horn BUT the skin !! fucking so good

Adam Stanheight (Saw)- first one i actually tried at HAHA i love the mullet (it used to look better idk what happened to it lmfao) and the pants and the shirt and the accessories, theyre my wet lil cat

Grace Le Domas (Ready or Not)- my most recent one :) the dress is just a clusterfuck of materials but it keeps the vibe. u cant tell from the pic but the hair actually looks rlly close to her hair in the movie if i do say so myself, also i literally color stained her dress with dirty paint water HAHA

Amanda Young (Saw)- kinda skimpy on details but i think it looks like her pretty well idk. if i was good at crafting i would actually make a rbt but alas

Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)- kinda hate her i think its the hair but u can only make so many mullets before losing ur mind so its wtvr

Red (Us)- first doll outfit i tried to make from scratch and u can tell HAHA i think i redid the face like 3 times HAHA also i colored the hair with copious amounts of eyeshadow and hairspray lmfaooo. the coolest part imo are the scissors im actually surprised i found that online

Bent Neck Lady (Haunting of Hill House)- u cant tell but the body details are so cool to me it kinda follows the molded and torn pattern of all the hill house ghosts, not a fan of the face but it was when i was still doing more stylized faceups as opposed to trying to stick to more realistic lol

Stu Macher (Scream)- redid their face like 3 times and it still doesnt look like matthew lillard so it makes me angry to look at HAHA id probably like it better if i did better on the robe but oh well lmao

[veespee]

MLandersen0 Community Posts

okay, here’s a sort of analysis (?) for the recent Mlandersen0 YouTube community posts, because people should talk more about them AND i need to overanalyze everything; so here ya go.

(this is part 1. there are 6 posts up rn, and this post would be WAY too long if i do all 6. so i’ve divided them to 2 parts, will post the other in a few days probably :) 

first post: Antigonish?

Antigonish is a poem written by William Hughes Mearns, which you can read here. 

I'll just write my interpretation, and how I think it relates to mla0: the poem revolves around a man, who is portrayed as a ghost. The speaker/narrator of the poem is clearly scared of this mysterious ghost man, telling him to “go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!” and “go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door…”. Now, as for the connection to mla0, i have two theories: 1. the ‘ghost’ is Slenderman, and it’s from Michael’s point of view. Which i think makes some sense, as the ghost and Slender also appear and disappear mysteriously, and of course, Michael wants him to go away, and 2. it could be about Michael’s guilt and past getting to him. All the people that are dead because of him and his want to protect himself, are haunting him, and the ghost is metaphorical. These are just theories though, so the meaning could be anything really. 

second post: So it goes?

This one is a song by band ‘Matthew and The Atlas’, you can listen to it here. According to an analysis from this website, the song talks about an entity of sorts, lingering around the speaker’s life since he was young. There’s a theme suggesting that the speaker fears the entity, and has never been able to confront it or get some closure on what it wants (as suggested in the chorus: “Deep below the earth I might have found you, High above the tower I could not see”). Also, according to a comment on the Genius page for this song, the song writer Matt Hegardy, explained that when he was young, he was attacked by a man with a knife, later resulting in bad dreams consisting of a figure standing over him. In my opinion, that’s exactly Michael’s relationship with Slenderman. Slender is an entity, plaguing Michael’s mind with nightmares, and basically ruining Michael’s life completely, but he never gets the chance to confront Slenderman, and get the closure he needs. So he’s stuck, being miserable and feeding people to Slenderman, without even knowing why. (also, now that i think about it, this could also be about Patrick. but i’m leaning towards Slenderman)

third post: And they call me a throwback when I cry, “Remember?”

The title is a lyric from the song below, Old Tyme Mem’ry by Erik Petersen. Now, the song’s overall meaning is nostalgia on vintage ways of living, as the song tells the story of a family who had to sell their farm after the death of the father, and how the new owners of the land have no connection to the land, instead opting for luxury and modernity. (thanks to this site i understood that lol, go check it out for a more in-depth analysis of the song) But in general, the atmosphere of the song is one of nostalgia and reminiscing (which is honestly the theme of all of these posts), and that’s why i’m assuming it’s Michael posting these. He’s reminiscing on the past, where everyone was ‘okay’ (as okay as they can be, at least) and alive, but know he’s alone. All he can really do is reminisce, as he has nothing now, no family, no friends. Really, I think he only has Patrick, who probably isn’t very stable, and Slenderman. 

okay that’s all i could find :) thank you for reading, and for anyone who is too bored to read all that, TL;DR: most of the themes of the songs/poems Dylan/Michael have posted have a theme of haunting/nostalgia. So my theory so far is, Michael is alive and living his life in guilt, reminiscing on the past about all of his wrong doings, and all the people who are dead because of him. He’s lonely, guilt-filled and grieving the life he could’ve had, if only everything was okay.

also!! credits to all the websites i linked, the helped me undestand the meanings of all the songs in depth, so of course, lot's of credits to them.

[my-own-walker]

OMG I love your work so much!!🤩😘

Could u maybe do JPM but where the reader is like stoned as fuck one day and he comes into their room and she's facetiming her cousin and their just laughing so much that they can't breath and just like crying because of it

If you feel comfortable enough to do it🤪😊😊

Oh! Sweet Nothin’

note: oh absolutely fuck yes anon!! thank u. i love this crazy mf. i’m not very good at happy stories but let’s give this a try ...

warnings: drug use, mentions of death and being dead

+++

I wasn't dead. At least not yet.

My stay at the Hotel Cortez had begun a year prior. I took a solo trip to the City of Angels to take some time away from my life in San Fransisco. Dead end job. Hated my family. The usual shit.

I had heard really fucked up things about the hotel so of course I decided to stay there. I had an affinity for all things murder and ghouls. The rumors of the place being haunted drew me there like a cartoon character being drawn to the scent of a pie cooling on a windowsill.

Little did I know how true the rumors would be.

It wasn't long before I was being pestered by every Tom, Dick, and Harry that forever resided in the place. I wasn't scared, though. Not in the slightest.

I pestered them back, making jokes about their eternal damnation and subsequent imprisonment behind the building's four walls. My fucked up sense of humor got me far in the Hotel Cortez.

My gall enticed one very unfriendly spirit. One whose name was only spoken in whispers around the place. James Patrick March. Yes, the guy who built the place.

He and I clicked instantly. I don't know what it was about me that made him choose to spare me. But we were instant lovers. In fact, the night we met he was already saying he loved me. Boy, was he weird in the best way.

The guy had a knack for violence. Well actually, a fetish for murder. But again, he didn't scare me.

Maybe that's why he chose to protect me. He moved me into his suite and everything. I became a permanent fixture in his space. In return, he kept me alive so I could continue to roam the living world.

I loved him. More than anything in the world. He was dark. He was terrifying. But he was mine. And he was so loving back.

He really tried his best to understand me. Being a twenty-something-year-old in the 21st century, I knew much about the world that he didn't. James died in the early 1930s. He retained his old-timey accent and style of dress. He was a true gentleman, well, besides the whole killing thing.

I, on the other hand, was a burnout loser from the Bay Area. I dressed in ripped jeans, flowy skirts, and Doc Martens. I had tattoos and a shag haircut. I smoked a shit ton of weed and was addicted to social media. I was far from a lady, let alone one like James' past lovers.

But maybe that's what made us work. I balanced him out. He taught me about the finer things in life, and I gave him a window to the outside world in return.

Only I would fall in love with a dead 120-year-old.

+

It was a rainy afternoon in LA, so I returned to the Hotel Cortez. I had been out shopping for rolling papers downtown.

Behind its walls was where I felt most comfortable. James was off doing...whatever a 1930s ghost does when I arrived back at the suite. Needless to say, I immediately dug into my new purchase upon my arrival.

James hated the pen I used to get high. He thought it looked silly.

'If you insist upon smoking, dearest, you should do it like a true sportsman,' he would say..whatever the fuck that meant.

I figured it was cleaner, but then he showed me the box with all of his supplies to roll his own cigarettes, so I obliged. He even gifted me with my own mahogany box for my 'smoking materials,' as he called them.

It had been a while since I rolled anything but I managed to get it done, albeit sloppily, and laid on our shared bed, smoking away lazily as I listened to the rain hit the windows.

My phone buzzed next to me on the pillow.

Incoming FaceTime call from Sasha.

Sasha. They were the only family member I kept in contact with. Sasha was my cousin and the only one that knew the truth about my whereabouts. They would call every so often to check in on me.

Sasha and I were really close as children. So close, in fact, that people would ask me if they were my sibling. They basically were, honestly.

I picked up the phone and hit the answer button.

'Sup bitch,' I answered, blowing smoke out of my nose after I spoke.

'Y/N you are always fucking smoking,' Sasha laughed. 'Do you ever give it a rest?'

'Weed, Sasha, is my best friend,' I replied, taking another drag.

'And not me!?' they scoffed, feigning hurt. "Oh, and we're rolling joints now? I didn't know we were so high class. It must be James' impact.'

'High class? Shut the fuck up,' I chuckled. The lock on the front door to the suite clinked and the door swung open.

'Hello, darling!' James shouted through the space as he closed the door.

'Sasha, he's back. I should go,' I started.

James was very old-fashioned. I tried really hard to not boggle his mind with too many new things at once. He had never met Sasha, let alone seen a FaceTime call. I couldn't imagine turning my phone to him, revealing a person talking in real-time on the screen. Television was trivial enough to him.

'No! It would be so funny. You gotta introduce us,' they pleaded.

'Y/N?' James called, footsteps getting closer to the bedroom.

'Please! Keep me on the phone,' Sasha chuckled. 'I wanna see his brain explode.' I couldn't help but let out a laugh. They were right. James' reaction to new things was always funny.

The door to the bedroom creaked open and James stuck his head in, eyes closed.

'My love, are you decent?' he asked. Sasha let out a giggle on the phone. 'Whatever was that sound?'

'James, it's fine, come in,' I laughed. I stood up and met him by the door, leaving my phone on the bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around. He kissed me warmly and set me back down.

'Oh, how I missed you so, dearest,' he sighed.

'I missed you too, James,' I replied, glancing back at my phone.

'And I see you've made use of my gift!' he exclaimed. He inspected my handiwork and tutted his tongue. 'My, we have some work to do. Might I teach you how to roll properly?'

'Of course,' I assured, flopping back onto the bed, picking up my phone, and giving Sasha a look. They covered their mouth with their hand, stifling a laugh. Seconds later I got a text.

Sasha: Bro, he talks so funny I'm crying

I also covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. I was too high for this.

'You and that tiny light box,' James began. 'Whatever can I do to tear your attention away from it?' He removed his suspenders and placed them on the dresser, beginning also to unbutton his shirt.

'Actually, James, I want to show you something,' I giggled.

'It's funny?' he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

'Well, kind of. I want you to meet someone,' I continued. His head whipped around the room, looking for the 'someone' I had just mentioned.

'Where is this person, then?' he asked, panic creeping into his voice. He always got like this. Like I was some sort of magician or something.

'No, no, James, they're on my phone,' I explained. 'Here, I'll just show you.' I turned my screen to face James. Sasha smiled and waved.

'Hi, James!' they called out. He immediately retreated back toward the door like a cornered animal, eyes bewildered.

I couldn’t help but cackle. Sasha let out the laughs they’d been holding in as well.

‘What is this? What is the meaning of this? How are you doing this?’ he asked, rapid-fire. He inched closer to the phone as my cousin and I continued to crack up. In stitches over his cluelessness. He picked up my phone and stared into it. 'Who are you?'

Between laughs Sasha managed to croak out, 'I'm Y/N's cousin. I live in San Fransisco.' James handed the phone back to me and looked at me with confusion on his face.

'James, my cousin Sasha is doing something called FaceTime. It's a new way to call people,' I explained. 'You can talk to people from far away and you can see their faces. Isn't that wonderful?' He nodded, unsure of the whole thing.

'So, that person is actually talking to us right now? From far away?' he asked, trying to clarify things.

'Yeah James, it's just like a phone call!' Sasha continued from the other side of the phone.

I let out a stifled chuckle. He was really trying his best to understand. It was so cool to introduce him to new things, but the way he acted --like the technology was going to hurt him -- was, unfortunately, very humorous to me.

'Oh, James, it's okay, I promise!' I assured him, beckoning him closer with my hand.

He climbed onto the bed and settled in next to me, looking over at the FaceTime call.

'Girl, you are too high for this, I'm sorry,' Sasha cackled.

'No no, it's fine,' I laughed, turning my face to James. 'You gotta learn somehow, right, love?' He nodded.

+

Within minutes James had gotten the hang of talking face-to-face with someone through the 'light box.' So much so, in fact, he began to give a cigarette rolling tutorial, performing as if he were on a stage.

I had the camera turned to him in front of me so Sasha could watch him.

'Then, ladies and gents, we take the paper,' he declared in a sing-songy voice, holding up the rolling paper demonstratively.

Sasha and I continued to laugh uproariously as James taught us how to roll 'the gentleman's way.'

By the end of the lesson, Sasha had to go.

'Goodbye! Goodbye, Sasha! I hope to see you again soon!' James called out as he waved to the camera.

'Bye, bitch,' I added before hanging up.

'Wh-what? Do you not like your cousin?' he scoffed, confused.

'Oh, no no,' I giggled, 'that's just how we say goodbye...from where...I'm from...' A lie, but a necessary one. I didn't feel like explaining how saying 'bitch' can also be good.

'Well, I will be sure to say that next time, then! I wouldn't want to be rude,' James decided.

'Oh, my sweet, sweet love,' I sighed, placing a hand on his cheek. 'You are too good.'

'Now, what do you say we try some of this giggle smoke?' he suggested, handing me the joint he rolled. He produced a lighter from his pants pocket and flicked it, holding it out to me.

+++

Okay, I'm not sure if I love this or if I hate it but I hope I did your request justice! Thank you for sending it in. As always, my inbox is open! Thank you for reading.

[ostensiblynone]

Some people want nothing more than to be haunted. They look for ghosts and devils, for spirits to possess them. Are they vacant? A soul's container without the soul like a pitless peach? Not necessarily, George speculated, only lonely for themselves. They long to be, as one philosopher put it, the partners of their own thoughts, but don't quite know it. Their souls lie hidden or camouflaged and they take this for abandonment, and so share themselves, their spiritual bereavement, with obsessions. So much can fit into one human heart. Each of us can be, if we get lost, a little ark of vast demons ferried from life to life. And sometimes we drift, George told me, into sudden storms of shipwrecked lives, roomfuls of neurotics unburdening themselves of their hauntings.

—The Future Was Color by Patrick Nathan

[a-rum-of-ones-own]

Hi!!!

I’m currently reading A Cosmology of Blacks, Malfoys, and Assorted Individuals and just wanted to express how much I love this fic!!! Your writing style is so profoundly passionate and evocative. The way you describe the emotions and inner workings of Draco, his observations and interactions with others, and blend sensory details with atmospheric elements is so poetically done—I seriously can’t deal.

What spurred me to write this was the opening of Chapter 19:

“With their ancient, bony hands, they’d passed her golden bowls filled with brew of black cohosh. Narcissa, panting in the heated darkness of the room she was confined in, had gulped them down, red-dark liquid dripping down her chin and staining the near-translucent smocking of her nightgown.

Winds had battered against the curtained windows. The approach of an early summer storm. The air had been sweltering, hot, over-heavy with lightning that had not yet discharged.”

LIKE UGH…MINDBOGGLINGLY BEAUTIFUL. SERIOUSLY. It’s so viscerally described that I feel like I’m transported right into the room.

I’m trying to consciously pace myself through the remaining chapters because I don’t want to catch up ;( but could you recommend some books that inspired you to write this fic, or even books that influenced your writing? I would be eternally grateful (high-key already am just for the existence of this fic).

I am so thankful to have stumbled upon this gem. You are sosososo talented; I am truly in awe and can’t wait to read more of your work! xxx

Heeey! Thank you so, SO much! I had so much fun writing that scene with the midwives - I cannot resist including scary old ladies and weird little arcane rituals of womanhood in everything I write, lol. I'm a total sucker for it. Give me a scary old woman who may or may not be a morally grey agent of The Dark And Mysterious Powers of the Great Beyond, and I'm sold.

YES, I do have book recs! Fic-writing is, for me, an opportunity for total stylistic self-indulgence, and there are absolutely influences! In general, Cosmology takes a LOT of influence from gothic writing. That entire theme of a house/manor/castle as a pseudo-living thing, the curses of our ancestors coming back to haunt us, ghosts of the past (both in literal and non-literal form), that's all just plain gothic, and I LOVE writing and reading that sort of stuff. Jane Austen's first novel, Northanger Abbey, is a fantastic gothic novel and/or gothic parody, and it's a shame it's not read more widely. It's definitely her first - it's not as absolutely refined as the big names like Pride and Prejudice etc - but it's the one I love the most. There's a proper mystery plot, a cursed house, a romance, a haunting - it's just great.

If you're not a Jane Austen girlie, a HUGE influence for me is Donna Tartt, especially The Secret History and The Goldfinch. If you're into that ornate, atmospheric, scene-setting writing, both will be right up your alley - The Secret History has a bit more of it (and is, imo, the better one to start out with), but they're both just amazing. One day, I want to be able to write like Donna Tartt does. She's the OG, she's the GOAT, she's perfect, she's probably my favourite contemporary author.

Also: Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. It's one of my absolute favourite books, but (warning!) it's not literary fiction or romance, it's very much the story of a haunting. If you're absolutely not into horror, stay clear. Similarly, The Perfume by Patrick Süßkind is BEAUTIFUL, but absolutely not a romance. I've only read it in the original and can't vouch for any translations into English, but judging by the reviews, the sheer VibesTM seem to come across even in translation. The original is one of the best books I've ever read, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone looking for something truly unique. I've also recently read V.C. Andrew's Flowers in the Attic for the first time, and found it really good in that gothic sense, but mind ALL the trigger warnings on that one. I don't deal well with graphic depictions of more realistic violence/abuse, especially if it involves kids (stylised/fantastical and implicit violence is fine, but anything that reads too 'real' and 'logically possible irl' doesn't agree with my stomach), and it's got some of that. I skipped a page or two, but still found it a prime example of Southern Gothic.

Thank you so so much again! I hope to get the next chapter of Cosmology out soon!

[sunskate]

VM show ep 3 Chiddy and Weapo

Patrick had moved to the Detroit Skating Club in the summer of 2013 so was nearby to cameo on the show. one of the few lighter sequences with Scott (this might be the first time he smiles big or laughs for real without any trace of discomfort so far). they go cart race, Patrick says he realized he doesn't have to be absolutely perfect, that eating crap one day instead of eating the perfect meal the perfect way doesn't have to affect his Olympics (in contrast to Tessa wondering whether eating a grape before PYC will affect hers)

Patrick says it's hard to find time to talk to his gf especially at the end of the day when he's tired, and Scott says "they always get the worst of you, right? you gave all your energy to everyone else, i get home, you have nothing left, and that's what they get. god, we should get together and talk more often. making me feel all good. Scott and Patrick" - i know it’s on camera but him making such a heavy statement then being like glad we talked, go us! 😅💀this makes them seem close, but at the same time, he's saying they don't see each other much. maybe when you're an athlete at this level, you have "pick up where you left off" friendships, because you don't have time

the Weapo dinner is at Shiro's restaurant in Novi (which is supposedly haunted by the ghost of the man who built the mansion it's in)

T: (VO) our Canadian teammates, Kaitlyn and Andrew, have invited us to dinner (and VM asked if their camera crew could come? this feels so contrived 😅)

Kaitlyn says: "it feels so cool, i don't know how many other people have this kind of connection we have all together"

but this is cut so that VM look surprised that Weapo make it work being together 24/7 - even though Tessa later says "i often marvel at that fact." Weapo have lived nearby since 2009, so it shouldn't be a revelation 😬 this might be the editors massaging this storyline to say "VM aren't getting along!" and just not doing a great job of it - like the editing here-- the reactions and length of the silences after Kaitlyn asks "how about you?" feel tweaked - the way the background noise drops out for a few beats as soon as Kaitlyn asks the question to make it feel more like crickets and how they add humorous music at the end -

but can you think of another time in their history where either one of them says something like this?

S: we get on each other's nerves until one of us snaps!

T: they literally spend all of their time together, and i often marvel at that fact because i'm not sure Scott and i would survive that sort of setup

how much is Scott joking? are they being more truthful here than other times? what's odd to me is that it's Tessa who's doing the commenting on how they're not getting along, and we're not seeing Scott. just from how uncomfortable he looks throughout this show, i wonder if he was really reticent to talk about Tessa and didn't give them anything they could use. so he gets thrown under the bus by a one sided narrative. we're almost at the end of this storyline, thank goodness

[catierambles]

Feral Instincts Ch.2

Pairing: The Rogue's Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 981

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury but nothing graphic. Werewolf/Shapeshifter elements.

@mclsquared , @brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @eldarwen333 , @omgkatinka , @identity2212 , @lucypaulette , @teamfan7asy , @ms-betsy-fangirl ,@pagina16ps , @enchantedbytomandhenry , @foxyjwls007 , @nofoolywang , @margauxmargaux07 , @mrsevans90 , @ilikemilkchocolateh @peyton-warren , @lizzystuffsthings , @raccoon-eyed-rebel

The ache in her arm steadily grew worse, the claw marks starting to throb. Mike had helped her clean the blood from her skin, turning on the shower so she could stick her arm under the spray. The water flowing over the wounds had nearly driven her to tears, the nerves raw and angry. He pulled her to his chest as the water irrigated the wounds, guiding her breathing by taking deep breaths of his own and letting them out slowly. Once her arm was dry, he spread antibiotic ointment on gauze pads and pressed them to her arm, wrapping more gauze around it to keep them in place.

A strange sort of restless energy started building in her muscles and she found herself pacing, shaking and clenching and unclenching her hand. She knew they were watching her, could feel their eyes on her, but it didn't feel threatening. Introductions had been made. The one Sy called "Walker" was August Walker, the one with the shock white hair and amber eyes was Geralt Rivian, and Walter Marshall was the one with a halo of dark curls and a thick beard. Sy's full name was Markus Syverson, but everyone, even his brother, called him Sy. Stephanie got the feeling that August didn't want her there, despite him saying she could stay until her…transformation was complete. He wasn't hostile towards her, just severely uninterested. Sy, Mike, and Walter were the most outwardly welcoming and supportive. Geralt seemed…indifferent.

"Okay," Mike said, "I hate awkward silences. Steph, what's your favorite movie?"

"Michael." August said.

"If she's gonna be staying here, we might as well get to know her." Mike said.

"She's not staying." August reminded him and Mike flashed him an annoyed look before turning his attention back to her as she paced.

"Favorite movie?" He asked and she stretched her neck with a roll of her head.

"What genre?" She asked.

"Horror." Sy said.

"The Haunting."

"Julie Harris or Liam Neeson?" Walter asked.

"I saw the remake first and the original later, I like both." She said.

"Favorite band." Mike said.

"What genre?" She asked again and he pulled a small smile.

"Metal?"

"Motionless in White." She said.

"Classic rock." Sy said.

"Toss up between Queen and Journey, Eagles are up there too."

"Classical." Walter said.

"Love Vivaldi and Beethoven. Mozart's Requiem is also a big hit, but not Tuba Mirum."

"Going back to movies," Mike said, "Favorite action flick."

"The second Die Hard with Jeremy Irons."

"Musical?" Walter asked.

"2004 Phantom of the Opera with Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum, and Patrick Wilson." She said.

"Creature feature." Geralt said.

"Toss up between Tremors: Aftershocks and Pitch Black."

"Classic movie." August asked and her eyes, which had been closed, opened and she fixed him with a look at his sudden interest.

"The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, 1947 starring Rex Harrison and Gene Tierney."

"Favorite food." Mike said.

"Japanese anything, and fried cheese."

"Favorite color." Sy said.

"Purple and black."

“Black isn’t a color.” August said.

“Don’t be pedantic.” She said simply and he scowled at her.

"Asmr?" Mike asked.

"Asmr drives me up a wall. I don't understand how people can get enjoyment out of the sounds of someone taking a bite of something crunchy or tapping on a microphone with fake nails. Pisses me off." She said and stretched her shoulders, but stopped with a wince as it aggravated her arm.

“How’s it feelin’?” Sy asked.

“Sore.” She said simply and he pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, going over to her.

“Let me see, doll.” He said and gently took her arm in his hands, pushing up her t-shirt sleeve that was stiff with blood. Unwrapping it gently, he pulled the gauze pads away from it and growled slightly as he saw the ragged claw marks tearing open the skin. It had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but dark lines of corruption branched off from the ruined skin. The skin around the wounds was warm and she winced as he pressed on them, making him mumble an apology. “Upside is, the infection will keep everything else out and it should heal without a scar to show for it.”

“Downside?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Downside is that there is an infection.” He said, “Feral infected you on purpose, couldn’t tell you why. Normally they just kill people. Don’t know why he bothered datin’ you first.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Nothin’ against you, doll, it’s just how ferals are.” Sy said and she nodded, “Seein’ as it stopped bleedin’ and ain’t at risk of goin’ south, we can probably keep it uncovered, but if it starts up again, let one of us know and we’ll wrap it up.”

“Okay.” She said with a nod and he carefully pulled her sleeve back down.

“We should probably get some of your things if you’re going to be staying here.” Walter suggested. “Do you live far?”

“Town over.” Stephanie said and he nodded. “Was camping though when shit went down, if he didn’t get rid of them to cover his tracks, the stuff I brought should still be there.”

“You can show me.” Geralt said, “We’ll bring them back here.”

“I can--”

“No.” Geralt said, “He might be there waiting for you. You’re not going alone.” He let his arms fall from where they had been folded over his chest. “Come on.”

“I didn’t exactly run in a straight line.” Stephanie said, “Do you have a map or something I can look at?”

“Not needed.” Geralt said, shaking his head. “I can track your scent back through the forest.”

“Okay, then.” She said.

“You want me to come with you, sweetheart?” Sy asked.

“No, it’s fine, it should be fine.” Stephanie said.

“Geralt will keep you safe, don’t worry.” Sy said and she nodded, following Geralt as he left the cabin and headed for the tree line.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 1: Ghost hunting - Multi!Muse x Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Well, ghosts, death, the afterlife, anxiety, PTSD

Type: Blerps

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: How they would react to going/how they’d feel/what it would be like to ghost hunting with the reader

Notes: Happy first day of Halloween! I wrote this as a blurb, following how they would react/be like to ghost hunting with the reader.

Jason Voorhees: Honestly, doesn’t see the point in it. He’s super lost and doesn’t really know what to do or what he’s looking at. Not to mention he absolutely DESPISES the white box. Flinches anytime it turns on. Kind of just dives in head first to everything, quite literally. Jason would eventually get frustrated with you, at some point, mainly when you would keep hearing things, or seeing things. You thought you would’ve caught them on camera by now, but it’s actually the complete opposite. Overall, could be a very stressful situation for both of you.

Michael Myers: Could not care less. Still follows you though. Kind of just sides eye you as you cling onto his sleeve. Walks in first to any room, as usual. Not a fan of the spider webs, it’s probably the only time you’ve seem him visibly annoyed. Another first in seeing his shoulders sort of slouch over. You swear you could even hear an audible sigh coming from underneath his mask, there’s no one to follow, only shadows. Thinks your rituals of white noise and outrageous flashlights is pointless but on the plus side, he kind of just “walks” through the spiderwebs for you.

Tiffany Valentine: Super excited to go ghost hunting with you. It’s about time to take some kind of adrenaline rush! She LOVES contacting the other side, good or evil. She would absolutely take the lead and pull up all the stops of the most haunted places in the area. Tiffany may even go as far as booking tickets to infamous haunted mansions and abandoned buildings. She looks into different manuals, both old and new, she’d buy and steal all sorts of gadgets and anything that could be used for any rituals for you both to catch a ghost. She laughs when the lights go out or things start flying and hitting the walls, disregarding your fear, if you have any.

Billy Loomis: Kind of thinks the idea is lame at first, but after you seem to be very intrigued, at some point Billy wants to get involved. He’s kind of quiet about it at first with a very much “sure thing kitten, whatever you want” attitude. Billy takes the liberty of just watching you as you set everything up, make notes and doodle on all kinds of maps. At first you think Billy isn’t really paying attention, but when he follows you, you couldn’t help but notice he actually knows how to turn on the white noise box. It’s kind of cute, and not to mention, you are more than welcome to hide behind him if anything gets too scary for you.

Stu Macher: LOVES the idea of ghost hunting, will look into the scariest of places in the area. Asylums, jails, schools are his specialty. You’re kind of taken by surprise with how much he becomes hands on with these adventures. Before you’d know it, Stu would take the lead, flashing the light as you follow him through the grim halls of the abandoned buildings. Of course, he’d act like the light went out, losing you in the process, only to flash the light to your face making you scream, frightening almost any remaining living creature in that place, followed by Stu’s belly laughter. Almost no “real” ghost hunting would get done with this guy, you’d probably be chased out by a curtesy officer before you could sit in a room to make any contact with the other side.

Patrick Bateman: Doesn’t entertain the idea for long, he kind of just stares at you when you go on about the adventures you want to take during this season. He understands it to an extent, but it seems meaningless. Not to mention, he’s possibly more athiest than anything, never with the hope of an afterlife. Patrick would rather go where there were violent deaths, places of execution and torture he’d try to convince you “you’ll find whatever you’re looking for, there.” If you could settle then great, if not, then tough luck. There’s a fifty fifty chance you’d be able to drag him with you if you wanted, but that would depend on his relationship with you. Still thinks the ritual of Halloween is silly and meaningless and yes that includes ghost hunting.

Leatherface: Likes the idea of ghost hunting. he doesn’t really understand it at first. Bubba has an innocent way of looking at ghosts, thinking they’re silly and just the kind extension of another human. Once you tell him about the anger and the sadness some of the ghosts carry at times, you can tell he’s a little bit spooked. He’d ask you questions of the afterlife and everything you’d know about ghosts. Maybe start him off small, little haunted cafes, he’d catch on very quickly and learn how to defend himself and you, he’d become a great ghost hunter with the proper guidance.

Harley Quinn: THE BEST GHOST HUNTER. Harley’s so into it! I bet you she has the equipment already. Super enthusiastic and entirely fearless, Harley will not hesitate to protect you whether you need it or not. She’d take the initiative to look into haunted places for you, persistent until you guys find something. Harley’s so goofy, wearing night vision goggles, carrying around a backpack with all kinds of equipment, flashlights, batteries. She’d be messing with whatever you find at the room and ends up making a mess or scaring you half to death, followed by her wide smile and mouthing a non-apologetic “sorry”

Poison Ivy: Not too big on the idea of ghost hunting, but will entertain the idea. You’d have to bribe her into taking you ghost hunting. She mostly wants to make sure you were okay and what better way to make sure you’re okay than to take you herself. Pamela isn’t scared too easily, she certainly hates walking into spiderwebs though. If you’re afraid of everything, she’d scold you just a tiny bit, laughing it off after seeing your terrified expression. You’d forget batteries or chargers or certain little essential things, but your beloved Ivy would have it in her hand, looking to you with a sly smile. Even ghost hunting she seemed to be the one who knew the most.

Bruce Wayne: His first reaction would be “absolutely not” he’s not doing that, why would he? Of course he’s seen many things but ghosts? It just seems like a dull pastime, but when he sees your discouragement, it definitely tugs at his heart strings. Before you know it he’s waking you up at 1 am, packing your bag because you’re going to go investigate an abandoned jail notorious for ghostly activities. He has all the gadgets, why shouldn’t he take you? Also, if there’s nothing you find after hours and hours of looking, I wouldn’t put it past Bruce to move some stuff around or work his bat magic to get you excited about your adventure with him.

Jason Todd: Absolutely down for anything. “Woah, are you sure about that? You’re not going to hide behind me the whole time?” Jason would absolutely tease you nonstop about being scared of ghosts. “I’m not scared, I respect them” “sure whatever you say doll.” He’d let you believe you’re leading them both, following your advice as to what to take, where to go, what to do. Of course his main job is to take care of the spooky spiderwebs for you. Once you get to your destination, it’s nothing like you imagined. Tucking yourself into Jason’s jacket, it kind of makes his heart flutter, after all this time, whether it’s goons or creeps or ghosts, you constantly feel safest tucking yourself into him.

Billy Hargrove: He’s kind of a little unsure at first, not knowing exactly what you wanted to do or why. Billy likes Halloween, but his idea of a Halloween date considers a movie night, going to house parties. but not spending it alone and in an abandoned hospital or building trying to connect with the other world. He’s intrigued to say the least. If Billy learned anything throughout his years is that if a woman has made a decision of a date, it’s better to go with it. Billy is a little bit more scared than he would like to admit, he’s more on edge than you, but that doesn’t mean he’d only fend for himself. If you both get scared at a noise together, or get out of the way of a ceiling tile falling through, he’d instinctively pull you towards him, covering you with his body where he could. Sooner or later, this would become a thrill for him, wanting to go to more places with you even further out of the town of Hawkins.

Steve Harrington: He’d be hesitant, put up a little bit more of a fight than most characters. Suggesting to go to the movies, or go trick or treating, to a carnival, anything else. You’d make a deal with him, you could go to the carnival, or a house party or trick or treating, whatever he’d like as long as he went with you to cross through that abandoned slaughter house. Steve wouldn’t hesitate to tell you maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, but if you’d insist, he’d take you. He’d rather it’d be him that would go with you than anyone else. Like Billy, he’d be protective of you, but unlike Billy, his priority would be to make sure you were okay, not finding ghosts.

Steve Rogers: He’d be up for it, to your surprise, as long as you weren’t going to bother the ghosts, Steve wouldn’t mind taking a walk around said haunted area in hopes of finding proof of an actual after-life. Of course, he’d be your big body guard, ready and apt to be hidden behind. Steve wouldn’t fall victim easily to the jump scares, not as much as you would at least. There’d be times where Steve would try to hold in his laugh at how cute you look clinging onto his sleeve when you thought you’d heard a noise. Of course he wouldn’t hesitate to remind you that this was your idea after all. 

Bucky Barnes: Kind of isn’t down for it. I feel like this would be crossing a line for him of some sort. He’d beg you not to do it, trying to compromise by doing other activities he’s not so fond of, like baking or going to a Halloween party. Bucky would for sure try to sweet talk you out of it if your heart is set on it, explaining to you that maybe it’d be better to let the souls rest. If you’d sneak out then Bucky of course would track you down, finding you easily and of course it’d be at a time where you were stuck somewhere or lost. Here comes Bucky, not even having to tell you “I told you so” or anything but still, you can tell yourself that he told you so.

Wanda Maximoff: Kind of like Steve, she’d be up for it. Wanda would be curious about the after life at times, what harm would it be if you guys were just looking? There was an adrenaline rush in this hobby of yours and Wanda knew it. It’d become a great feeling for her. She’d look for places on her own time, suggesting new methods and ideas of where to go next. You’d be able to even start your own scrapbook of ghost hunting adventures together. Wanda made you promise each other not to go without each other, both for your safety and also because she liked it just as much as you do.

Loki Laufeyson: Kind of laughs about it, but then sees that you’re serious. He actually has quite a bit of knowledge on spirits and those who live in the other world. Loki would be delighted to enlighten you on said topics. He’d advise you not to go disturb them though. If you absolutely insist, or go without telling him, he’d find you just in time before you’d fall down the second floor or down the stairs into a pretty serious accident. There would be a silent “I told you so” moment, but he’d still smother you and comfort you endlessly. So, preferably an at home Halloween date would be more ideal with him.

Cloud Strife: Doesn’t understand why you’d want to do anything like that at all. He just overall doesn’t understand it and honestly he doesn’t really want to. That doesn’t mean he won’t go with you though, he will. Cloud isn’t the best at jump scares, constantly ready to fight whatever surprises you both on the way. This wouldn’t really help his PTSD or anxiety, so maybe it’s best to forget the ghost hunting and maybe read about it instead. 

Aerith Gainsborough: Kind of scared of ghosts? But also so excited about them as well. She loves anything that looks remotely creepy or enchanting, telling you constantly “You should give them a chance” Aerith truly knows how to find the beauty in everything and if it’s anyone that could convince you to find the beauty in a beaten up spiderweb infested home, it’s Aerith. She’s terribly empathetic towards the lives who have ascended your reality, often wanting to get to the bottom of their story and could sit there with you for hours trying to figure out what they’re trying to tell you two.

Sebastian Michaelis: Won’t entertain it. Sebastian is not a fan, if it’s not an actual threat to you or himself, he finds it to “just be another creature” It’s amusing how nonchalant Sebastian is in the presence of a ghost, not caring for their story or their past. If you wanted to know, he would tell you still. Sebastian wouldn’t mind explaining to you the history of souls and where they wander, how they came to be and the whole ordeal. Hopefully it would suit your curiosity enough to keep you from trying to hunt them down. 

Spencer Reid: Soooo down. He’s probably the one that suggested it in the first place. Spencer already has a map of all the said haunted locations in town, he’d even color code them to coordinate where you’d go to first. Spencer would love to keep a scrapbook of different notes, pictures and whatever “evidence” you both find regarding the souls you’ve encountered. There would be times too where Spencer could be out of town on a case, he’d promise you to go to the nearest creepiest or most haunted house in town and take pictures to add to your scrapbook. Nevertheless, the most immersive s/o on this list to go ghost hunting with!