#*twirls hair* so there's this serial killer...

[brakebabe]

I had to giggle I feel bad for probably confusing my father with giggling but finishing True Lies and like not even a minute after the credits start rolling he turns to me and says “you know there’s a new Schwarzenegger series on netflix”. This is who I am now

[nebula-nights-reblogs]

.

[xoxochb]

— psycho killer ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: chb setting, graphic violence, insane behavior, seduction-ish, two make outs pairing: ghostface! luke castellan x ghostface! daughter of aphrodite a/n: after ages I’ve finally finished this 😭🙏🏼

a ghost mask, a hunting knife, two beloved campers.

typically at camp when you heard anything about the hermes cabin counselor or the favorite daughter of aphrodite the mind would go to the perfect couple— and as this was indeed true, it wasn’t how they expected. one hundred percent not. It was almost obvious, the murders at camp. It wasn’t like you were trying to fully hide them, of course not. all the assholes you killed deserved to get their bodies shown on full display, to show off your handiwork. It was almost surprising how nobody knew the mastermind behind these perfect kills

the campers chosen for your bloodlust rage weren’t randomly selected this is why. each belonged to a certain point in your life, to a certain experience. such as an ares kid who threw you to the ground during a sparring session, or one of your siblings who made fun of your looks (in your defense an awful hair day, but who the fuck where they to be talking their outfit was three seasons out!), or a stupid athena kid thinking their the smartest in camp all “I know rocket science I’m better than everyone” bullshit. they might’ve got the worst of it. but there was more than just those three— you’d claimed the title ‘serial killer’ at this point. your killings didn’t go unnoticed though because luke castellan saw through your innocent act. how you’d be the first to every scene, how you’d dramatize every action trying to help mourn over the loss of many different campers who lost their lives to your hands. and he was surely not going to let you do this alone

tonight you had a conquered a perfect scheme with your partner in crime. thoroughly planned over the course of september, halloween night, campers busy with activities and your victim busy getting totally gutted!

“are you sure this plan is going to work?”

“are you serious?” you cross your arms and glare at your boyfriend “I’ve been working on this for a month and a half if this doesn’t work that’d be unlikely. and don’t you trust me?”

luke laughs softly and takes a step towards you, placing one hand around the small of your back, the other gloved hand cupping your jaw before you’re pulled in for a feverish kiss. and when he pulls away with a smirk against your lips he mumbles, “with my life”

you slip your knife from atop your bed into your hands. “then let’s do this”

⋆˚✿˖°

It was dark outside. a stygian hue filling the sky along with the small bright stars and the dull brightness illuminating from the moon above. not only was it dark it was fucking cold. though it was mid fall so you shouldn’t have expected anything less. In your lacy pink dress, you barely had anything on which wasn’t helping your cause either. with every step leaves crunch beneath you, left, right, left, right. until you at last reach your designated spot where your victim waits, paper in hand, twirling it around his fingers. you come up as quietly as possible behind him (or the tree behind him, whatever)

act i: currently in session

you put on your best I’m-so-happy-to-see you smile when you get close enough. “hey you”

the hepheastus boy turns himself with a seductive looking smirk. yeah you know exactly how this is going to go. you’d heard a rumor spreading through camp about this boy, apparently he’s a player, paying girls to have sex with him (which apparently isn’t a big deal but it might once stds start spreading, gross). regardless of this one reason you hated the boy anyways so it didn’t matter to you

his gods awful expression make you want to vomit on the spot, nonetheless you power through. “I was hoping it would be you. I always knew that stupid boyfriend of yours was a dud”

you roll your eyes and scoff. “ugh, I know right, he’s so pathetic”

you take the paper from his hands: a note written by your sister to meet her here. you throw it somewhere on the ground and fumble your fingers with the collar of the boys shirt, while his dirty hands wrap tightly around your hips

“are you gonna kiss me or what?” you mumble when your lips are close enough. but it’s almost as if the boy is aware there’s more to this meet up. doesn’t matter because once he hungrily connects your lips at last he won’t remember a thing

act ii: in the process

It was utterly disgusting— the way you let his hideous boy touch you, his hands gripping tightly over your dress in hopes it may disappear at any given moment. could this process take any longer? you began to wonder if your boyfriend had left you yo handle this on your own. yet at the same time you knew he wouldn’t let this idiot boy get away with putting his hands on you

you take matters into your own hands for the time being. while the hepheastus boy sucks along your neck you reach to your thigh where you had strapped your dagger. and almost as if on queue luke appears from within the bunches of trees. or so you hope— you don’t know for sure who it is until the ghost mask comes off. slowly but surely, through your sighs you manage to get the metal to the fabric of his shirt. luke gives you a nod indicating to make your move, quickly you shove the weapon into the boys abdomen, crimson liquid instantly pouring over your dress and the grass. the boy tightens one hand round your dress, the other touching the knife placed in his stomach. his head lifts from your shoulder to look up at you, the same blood pooling out from his mouth

and it’s heavenly, the sound he makes as he falls to the ground in agony, attempting to plea for you not to let him die, but of course you can’t hear over the liquid in his mouth all he can do is spit it out. you smirk and crouch down to his level admiring your recent work, then looking up to luke. “wanna do the honors?”

act ii: completed

he takes his mask off, shoving it into his robes pocket before taking your hidden ax from behind the tree. “what do we do once we’re done with him?”

“we burn him. once he’s all ash there’s no proof he was murdered”

you stand up from your spot on the ground, looking at the amount of blood that had fallen onto your dress. you frown but ultimately chose to ignore it, that was a problem for later. for now, the last task of the night was to properly dismember the body and take it back to hermes cabin for burning. you feel a sudden ecstasy as his limbs disconnect, one by one, legs, arms, torso, head, feet, hands, until he was nothing but bits and pieces. even better, it was none other than your lovely boyfriend that had completed this process, instantly making your knees weak— even better than this, however, was his blood adorned face, how badly you wanted to kiss all of it off slowly…

and you can. when he throws the ax on the ground and walks towards you, his hands resting against your hips as he pushes you back against the tree. you moan in utter delight when luke finally attaches his lips with yours (this elicits a laugh from him). your whole body practically curves into his, you throw your arms around his neck tightly to keep him as close as humanly possible. his hands find themselves trailing down to your thighs and back up underneath your dress. the heat of the moment is palpable (though this probably isn’t an exaggeration as his fingers twirl around your underwear, taking his time as he slide them off), in a needy manner you tug his hair gently, and if it weren’t for his hands on you, your knees surely would’ve gave out and you might’ve collapsed by now. his tongue traces over your bottom lip, you can taste the blood, and you need more of it, whether that was his touch or the taste of the crimson liquid you’ve grown to love

“you’re perfect” he rasps against your lips, before disconnecting them and trailing down your neck “gorgeous”

he reaches your pulse point and keeps his lips there longer, for sure making a mark for you to struggle to cover up later. he bites down carefully on your skin, making you moan in response, in addition to this he grinds his hips into yours, evoking more soft sounds from your mouth. you stop him for only a moment to murmur, “y’know, there’s nobody in my cabin…”

and that was enough confirmation for the both of you to discard of the dismembered body for someone to find the next morning, and to settle (or not so much) in cabin ten for the night

꣑ৎ if you enjoyed then reblogs would be greatly appreciated! my requests are currently: open if you have any <3

[charliedawn]

Slashers who meet a to-be victim whos just putting glitter on things

A to-be victim who has a room full of posters of serial killers and slashers

Imagine two of Bo's worst nightmares. Glitter. And sparkles. Combine them. Put them in a room and that would be your bedroom. And worst of it all...Posters of him and his brothers in every single corner. He was speechless...

"...What in the—? What is this place ?! Hell ?!"

As soon as he was in, he wanted to leave. Only to discover that the door was locked and he had now glitter on his shoes and his hand. And then, you appeared with a whole bucket of glitter in your hands. And Bo started praying.

Him : "Whatdya think yer gonna do with that exactly ?!"

You *devilish smirk*

Him : "Oh no, you don't ! Get the heck away from me !"

…Bo couldn’t get all the sparkles out of his hair for weeks.

...Wow.

Jason was surprised and impressed. A full room dedicated to him and the slashers. He hadn't expected it. He didn't really mind though. It meant you knew about him and weren’t scared.

Him *smiles* : "Do you want some help ?"

You *handing him a full bucket of glitter* : "Sure ! Put them everywhere. And you can help take pictures of the others for me."

He was more than happy to help and you ended up having a good time playing with glitter and stalking the other slashers. Jason may not really care about glitter and sparkles, but he’d be happy to spend time with you.

The Penny Brothers love glitter. It is something fun and colourful for Penny. He would help you decorate the whole hospital. He’d even be thrilled to meet a fan and see all the posters you have of them. It would mean that you are as crazy as him and you would get along just fine. Penny loves crazy people.

And for Pennywise ? Pennywise sees it as the perfect torture. Those little colourful flakes are impossible to remove from clothes or hair and when people receive them in their eyes…It means atrocious suffering and temporary blindness. So, of course he’d love them.

Brahms was ecstatic when he learned about the new patient who loves glitter and sparkles. He wanted to be your friend before he even met you. He stayed away for a while and only showed himself when he was sure you were what he thought you were. When he saw the huge posters of him, he got flustered. But, he got particularly excited when you showed him your collection of pink and purple items covered in glitter. He immediately felt like he had found someone who understood him.

It wasn’t long before Brahms started walking around proudly with a glitter-covered mask. And he didn’t even care about the others making fun of him for it, because there was you.

Norman knew from the start. He first rent you a room and when he took a look through the peep hole—he was immediately blinded by the brightness in the room. But, he was flattered by the posters.

Let’s just say that Norman found it endearing, but he isn’t a really big fan of glitter and sparkle—especially on him. It means more cleaning. But, on you ? He’d find it adorable and would gladly run the vacuum every day if it meant he got to see you in those very pretty and original outfits of yours.

Norman *smiles* : "Very cute, my little monster. Very cute."

Freddy : "FIRE IN THE HOLE !" *uses a literal canon to make the whole place sparkle*

Freddy loves chaos. You would just give him an idea to cause more trouble and make the whole hospital swim in glitter. Fortunately, the staff and the other slashers are used to it by now.

But, it doesn’t mean they like it all the same.

Random nurse *after she got covered in green glitter* : "…FREDDY ! Y/N ! Come back here !"

You and Freddy *cackling while running away*

Barry LOVES glitter. He lives for it. He wants each of his outfits to have a sparkle to them. And he’d design all sorts of clothes for you.

Barry *screams when you get out of the dressing room* : "YES ! Absolutely nailed it ! Twirl for me, darling. Yes. Thank you. Absolutely gorgeous."

Vincent did take you as an inspiration for his new piece. He took some of your supplies to cover his new wax statue and at the end, he offered it to you. It was a wax statue of yourself and Vince waited anxiously for your opinion.

Vincent *fidgets nervously*

You *smile widely* : "I love it !"

He was really ecstatic and gave you a hug. He really wanted you to like it.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Field Trip Time!

Human Hotel Fic! Part 1

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

This one is probably T-rated ~ 1.7k

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

// Slowish-burn, Bi!Charlie, Demi!Alastor, Based on this art [Link] about Charlie and Alastor taking a field trip to a human hotel for "business experience." Human Alastor based on this art [Link] (I'm also GrayAce. Update: He's actually giving Demi vibes //

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie Morningstar twirled down the grand staircase of her Hazbin Hotel, arms lifted, and a musical “Ta-da!” on her now pink lips. 

She paused dramatically in the lobby, striking a pose to show off her new human look. Charlie’s usual excitement sparkled out of amber eyes and pale beige face. She gave a spin, showing of the pink lounge wear and a foot less of golden blonde hair. 

“What do you think? Pretty convincing, right?”

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow from his perch at the bar. “Not bad, toots. You’ll pass as a boring old human.”

“Thanks!” Charlie’s smile didn’t falter as she hopped onto the barstool on the other side of the spider demon from Cherri. “I just can’t wait, a real, human hotel experience! It’s going to be so…educational!” the princess spun in her seat, knocking her crossed ankles into one of half a dozen matching pink luggage piled up by the bar.

“Whoops, so maybe I over packed a bit.” She admitted, hefting the suitcase back onto the stack. “But it’s better to be prepared!”

Husk scowled from behind the bar, resting on an elbow as he watched Charlie’s attics. “Yeah, sounds real thrilling—ya do realize your powers are next to useless up there, right?”

“Aw, don’t be sucha buzzkill, ya old furball.” Cherri bombed chimed in, slamming her glass down on the bartop. “Could be fun to raise a lil’ hell topside.” 

Charlie’s grin was a little forced as she thanked Cherri for her…support? 

Angel sipped his martini delicately, his elbow resting on the bar and one of the other arms cocked on his hip. “Speakin’ of hell raising, you sure this isn’t just a little vacay to distract ya, from a certain someone runnin’ off to heaven again?”

Charlie’s perpetual positivity faltered, but only for a moment. 

“What? No, of course not! This is purely for research purposes. Totally business professional.”

But as Charlie busied herself  glacing through the human phone she’d acquired for the trip, she couldn’t quite banish the twinge of heartache that flared at the mention of her ex. 

Charlie straightened up, her sunny demeanor returning full force. “No, it’s not about Vaggie at all. I’m genuinely excited for this experience! And I’m happy that Vaggie is busy with her new role as our emissary to Heaven. It’s a great opportunity for her.”

Angel couldn’t resist another jab. “Yeah, I hear she’s really hit it off with that Emily gal up there. Real angelic connection, if you know what I mean.”

Charlie’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly, but she chose to ignore Angel’s comment. Instead, she busied herself with adjusting the strap on one of her many bags.

This trip was exactly what she need, she reassured herself. A fresh start and a chance to prove that she could make this hotel work. No more distractions.

“Well, I say go for it, girl! Live it up in the land of the living!” Cherri grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “But wait, you’re not going solo, are ya? That’d be a real bummer.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, no! I won’t be alone. Alastor’s coming with me!”

The reaction was instantaneous. Angel choked on his martini, Husk’s jaw dropped, and even Cherri looked taken aback.

The spider demon was the first to recover. 

“Hold up, hold the fucking phone.” He gestured with his glass, sloshing the contents around and making Husk growl and grab a rag. “You’re taking Smiles? As in, the Radio Demon, the former serial killer? Back to the place where he…ya know, serially killed?”

Charlie blinked—she hadn’t thought about it like that. 

“Can’t believe the pompous bastard even agreed to go, he likes bein’ in Hell.” Husk slammed his martini shaker onto the bar, maybe a little too hard. “He’s gotta have an angle.” 

“He doesn’t exactly blend in, ya know? Oozes that creepy staticy sound.” Cherri agreed, wiggling her fingers. 

“You all need to have a little faith!” Charlie huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s my business partner. Besides! This is a chance to show even him that there’s beauty in redemption, in saving human souls!” 

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

A commotion from the main staircase drew everyone’s attention to a squealing red and brown blur tumbling down the steps. 

With a resounding crash, Niffty landed face-first on the lobby floor, an old leather suitcase sprawled beside her.

“Yeesh, you okay there, toots?” Angel winced. 

Niffty’s single, oversized eye blinked rapidly as she lifted her head, and then widened with a sparkle. “Pretty bad boy~” she cooed.

The group followed her gaze up, and a hush fell over the lobby. 

Descending the staircase with effortless grace was a man Charlie barely recognized. 

Gone were the ashen skin, the glowing red eyes, and the razor-sharp edges that made the Radio Demon look dangerous to touch. 

 In their place stood a strikingly handsome man with perfectly coiffed black hair, warm medium-brown skin, and intelligent dark eyes peering through round glasses above an actually pleasant smile. 

Alastor had arrived, and left the rest of the hotel’s residents speechless. 

“Where the hell did you get that look?” Husk, the skeptic, demanded, his eyes narrowed on his boss. 

 Adjusting his glasses, Alastor smiled wider, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. “Why, from a mirror about a century ago, my friend.” He replied, his voice still carrying that tinny, radio-like quality despite his appearance. “This is how I appeared before my, tragic and untimely death.”

“Tragic, huh?” Husk scoffed under his breath, already moved on to his next drink. 

Alastor spun his microphone staff with a flourish, shrinking it to the size of a fountain pen, before tucking it into the inner pocket of the black vest he wore. 

Angel, Cherri, and Niffty continued to stare openly, their jaws practically on the floor.

Alastor’s gaze slid to Charlie, and the princess felt her cheeks warm under the weight of those eyes. She tamped down the unexpected flutter in her chest. 

One of his eyebrows gave a little raise, almost like he was seeking her approval. 

Ha, no, this was Alastor. Get a grip, she scolded herself.

Angel let out a low whistle. “Holy fuck, I can see why folks followed you into dark alleys if ya looked like that back in the day,” He winked.

Charlie’s gaze flicked between them, a strange twinge in her chest.

“Still not happening, my effeminate fellow.” Alastor gave a high laugh, and stooped elegantly to pick up his suitcase. And set Niffty back on her spindly little legs. 

“Ah dammit.” Angel huffed, though it was good natured as his eyes slid back across bartop. “Worth a shot.” 

Cherri and Niffty were still ogling, shamelessly. 

Charlie clapped her hands together, trying to diffuse the tension that had settled over the lobby.

“Well! Isn’t this exciting?” she chirped, her voice a touch too high-pitched. “Dad will be here any moment to open the portal for us. Won’t this be fun, Alastor?”

The Radio Demon’s perpetual smile cooled slightly at the mention of Lucifer. “Indeed,” he replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Now that Charlie could push aside the distraction of his face, she realized what Alastor was wearing. “Um, Al? Don’t you think you’re a bit... overdressed for a casual trip?”

The others chimed in, eyeing Alastor’s vest, bowtie, and gloves critically.

“Yeah, ya look like you’re heading to a speakeasy, not a modern hotel,” Cherri remarked.

Alastor’s smile tightened. “I assure you, this is perfectly acceptable attire. Anyone who thinks otherwise needs to raise their standards.”

“C’mon Smiles, live a little. Lose the tie, roll up those sleeves.” Angel cajoled.

To Charlie’s surprise, Alastor actually seemed to consider it. 

“Very well. If we must adhere to modern sensibilities...” With a put-upon sigh, he began removing his gloves and untying his bowtie. 

Charlie found herself transfixed as Alastor pulled the ribbon of fabric from his collar, and then undid his sleeves, revealing the skin of his forearms. 

She’d never seen the Radio Demon with so much as a button undone. The casual gesture felt strangely…enticing.

“Charlie,” Husk’s gruff voice snapped her back to reality. “You’re only stayin’ the night, right? You’re packin’ like you’re movin’ in up there.”

 “Right! Of course. I’ll just... go do that now.” Flustered, Charlie tore her gaze from Alastor. 

As she hurried to reorganize her luggage, Charlie couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be far more complicated than she’d anticipated.

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie’s heart raced as she glanced at the clock. 

Any moment now, her father would arrive to open the portal. A flicker of worry crossed her mind. 

What if her dad made a scene about Alastor looking the way he did—he already despised the Radio Demon. 

She imagined Lucifer’s reaction to his daughter gallivanting off with such an attractive man to spend the night, by themselves, alone. 

Just then, a leather-bound book materialized on the bar with a pop, a duck-shaped sticky note attached to its cover.

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed, rushing over. “It’s Dad’s grimoire!”

Can’t make it in person, pumpkin! Portal inside. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! 

- XOXO Dad

Charlie sighed. “Well, that’s...convenient.”

As she flipped through the grimoire, Alastor approached, effortlessly hefting two of her larger bags. “Allow me, my dear,” he offered, his voice sounding strange coming from the handsomely human face.

“Thanks, Al,” Charlie murmured, distracted by the arcane text. She didn’t see Husk and Angel exchanging a look that was heavy with silent conversation. The cat tilted her head to him, and the spider demon nodded. 

With a flourish, the Princess recited the spell. A swirling vortex of light burst into existence.

“Ready?” Charlie asked, bouncing on her heels with excitement.

“After you,” Alastor gestured chivalrously.

Charlie beamed, grabbed her suitcase and purse, and leaped through the portal, Alastor stepping up close behind.

“Hold up,” Angel called out. “Where exactly are you two lovebirds headed?”

Alastor paused at the threshold, a sharp-toothed smirk spreading across his face. “New Orleans, of course. My old... hunting grounds.”

With that, he stepped through, the portal closing behind him.

 “Doesn’t he mean stomping grounds?” Cherri asked over his glass. 

Angel shook his head, taking a long sip of his martini. “Nope. He doesn’t.”

⚜️ Part 2 ⚜️ Two Nights, One Bed ⚜️

[shebreathedherlast]

Haunted

gf!anakin x reader

Summary: You're best friends with Anakin but you have a boyfriend. Anakin takes it into his own hands to deal with this problem.

Word Count: 3.8k

tw: murder

Anakin sat atop the dark metal picnic bench as he listened to you ramble on about your psychology major. You have always loved psychology and studying the human brain. He allowed you to ramble, twirling a fallen strand of your ponytail between his index finger. 

“Anakin, are you even listening to me?” You ask.

He only hums in response, as he continues to play with your hair. You had been friends with Anakin since your junior year of high school and ever since then, you two have been nearly inseparable. You had always seen him around, as he fell into the popular crowd but it wasn’t until he saved you from the wrath of your ex that you two became quick friends. 

You continue to tell him about the aspects you find fascinating about psychology and how it has helped you learn to read people. 

“So I take it you enjoy your classes?” He says.

You nod, “Of course I do, but the work can be overwhelming at times you know?”

“Mmm,” He agrees before changing the subject. “You still need a ride to Padmé’s tonight?”

You smile sheepishly, “Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, but I just don’t think your boyfriend would approve,” He practically spits the word out as he responds.

You turn around to swat his arm. Anakin has never liked your boyfriend, Jess. Now that you think of it, he has never liked any of your previous boyfriends either. You dismissed the thought of his protective nature ever since he saw your high school ex Nathan hit you. When that happened Anakin had practically beat him to death, successfully scaring your ex from ever coming near you again.

“Don’t worry Ani, Jess won’t mind,”

“What won’t I mind?” Jess asks, approaching you.

“Shesh man, you appeared outta nowhere, practically jumped out of the bushes or something,” Anakin scolds, allowing his annoyance to filter through.

Jess chuckles, “Yeah sorry about that bro, just saw my girl here,” he scrunches his face with a smile, “--and I just had to come see her,” 

Jess leans in to plant a kiss on your lips, coming to sit beside you on the bench. He reaches for your thigh, stroking it up and down with his thumb as his hand trails further north. 

“Jess,” You laugh, “Not here,” You say, pushing his hand with a firm expression.

Anakin scoffs, “Keep it in your pants, Kennedy,” 

His jaw is fixed. Anakin’s grip on your hair tightens as his fists subconsciously clench. 

“Oww Ani, you’re pulling on my hair.” You groan.

Anakin cringed, unravelling his fingers from your wavy locks, “Sorry angel,”

Jess reaches for your head, smoothing your hair down, “Since when were you his angel?” He asks, a certain possessiveness in his voice. 

Anakin turned his eyes to your boyfriend, “Since high school, prick.”

You notice how quickly their conversation is heating up and attempt to de-escalate the situation. 

“Anakin.” You shoot him a stern glare. “Behave,”

He just lets out a dark chuckle, rolling his eyes, “Yes ma'am,” He mocks.

Jess tries to start up a new conversation for your benefit most likely.

“Hey uh, have you heard about the whole psycho killer on the loose?” 

You squeal, “Yes! Of course, I have. Isn’t it crazy? A real-life ghostface killer in our city?”

Jess quirks a brow at your excitement. He opens his mouth to talk before Anakin cuts him off. 

“She’s big into slasher movies. Thinks that all the killers are complex psychologically so she finds them fascinating,” 

“But this guy is real,” Jess states.

You nod, “Yes he is, I just wanna know what makes him do what he does, and in such an extreme way. Isn’t it interesting?” You know that to almost anyone you’d sound freaky, finding serial killers fascinating, but what can you say? You just want to study how utterly complex they are.

Anakin snorts, “Well there’s that, and you also think ghostface is hot.”

You look down in embarrassment, turning a shade of pink as Anakin exposes your secret attraction to the slasher. Jess seems shocked at this revelation, “You find this murder attractive?” He asks, a puzzling expression painted on his face. 

“No, no,” You say, waving your hands for emphasis, “Not the real ghostface, just–uh the ones in the Scream movies.”

Anakin and you had binge-watched the Scream movies last year in your final year of high school, and you would rant to him how hot you thought ghostface was. There was just something about the long robes, mask, and blood-stained knife that had you clenching your thighs. 

“Well then, I know what to wear for the Halloween party at Padmé’s tonight,” Jess said

You giggled as you threaded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy hair. “Uhg–please do Jess, you’d look so hot,”

“Well in that case,” He flashed you a knowing smile, “Anything for my girl,”

Anakin shifted above you, running his hand through his dark blonde hair, something he always did when he was irritated. 

“Would you guys get a room already? This is disgusting.” 

“Aw Anakin, is someone jealous they don’t have a girl?” Jess mocked, slipping his arms around your waist, passive-aggressively emphasizing that you were his girlfriend.

Anakin hated the way Jess touched you, in fact, he hated everything about Jess, but mostly the fact that he was your boyfriend. After all, you were his first, and he was determined to show this to Jess, no matter the consequences. 

“Whatever man,” Anakin played off as he reached for your backpack, “We have to leave anyway to pick up y/n’s costume.”

Jess glared at Anakin, as he studied his face. “Yeah sure bro,” He replied to your best friend before turning to you, “I’ll see you at the party after my shift, wear something nice  for me babe, okay?” 

You giggled, “Always do Jessy.”

Anakin groaned, walking to his car, “Angel you coming?”

You turned from Jess after saying your goodbyes, “Right behind ya!”

________________

You sat in the passenger seat of Anakin’s car, as he drove you to Padmé’s house. The land outside seemed to blend together at the speed that Anakin was driving. He had one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the head of your seat, brushing against your bare shoulders. You were dressed as Black Widow from the MCU and Anakin had black ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You’d brought your make-up with you so you applied what was necessary to complete your look. Anakin made you promise to use your make-up to create a skull face. He was dressed as Tate Langdon from AHS. 

When he parked on the side of the road outside of Padmé’s house you got to work transforming his face. You used your favourite fluffy brush to apply the white powder on Anakin’s face as he laughed, “That tickles. Stop it,” He said between giggles. When you finally finished the two of you exited his car and made your way into the house. 

Once you and Anakin had settled at the party, he took off to get a drink. You went to find your friends. Padmé spotted you first as she beelined towards you. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

“Girl, you look gorgeous!” 

“Thanks,” You replied, as she led you to your other friends, Satine, and Sabé. 

They were dressed in various costumes, Sabé’s with more effort than Satine's, but they both looked wonderful to you. 

“Wow, you all look amazing!” You said, smiling kindly.

A chorus of “thank you’s” was spilled before you were raptured into their gossip.

________________

Anakin was walking back to find you, drink in hand when something, or rather someone bumped into him.

“Watch where you're going man,” Anakin growled as he managed to study the liquid in his red solo cup.

The person who bumped into him looked up to meet his angry gaze. “My bad bro,”

“Jess,” Anakin spat. 

“The one and only,” The other boy replied, dressed in a black t-shirt and baggy black jeans. A cheap plastic ghostface mask adored his face. 

Anakin practically rolled his eyes at his crappy get-up. 

“When y/n said she thought ghostface was hot, she definitely didn’t mean this cheap trash version.” 

“Chill dude, why have you been so on edge lately? Get a drink, get laid, cool off.” Jess said stumbling, obviously already drunk. “That’s what I’m planning to do anyway.”

Anakin bawled his fists. He hated how Jess would talk about y/n behind her back. In all honesty, he didn’t know what his angel saw in him. 

In response to Jess, he only nods before making his way through the mass of bodies filling the house.

________________

It was nearly two in the morning and by now the party had died down leaving only Padmé, Satine, Sabé, Jess, Anakin and you. Satine was watching a movie while Jess started kissing you. He moved his hands up and down your body as you sighed into his kisses. Turns out you did like his ghostface costume. Anakin watched you and Jess with disdain as he leaned against the wall, a beer in hand. Unknown yet to him he had crushed the cup with anger. When Jess led you upstairs he saw red and it took everything in him not to beat your boyfriend to a pulp. Anakin dragged his hand down the length of his face, turning to grab his belongings. 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out now Padmé, see ya girls,” Anakin waved goodbye to the other two girls on the sofa.

“Have a safe drive, Ani!” Padmé called after him. 

Anakin visibly twitched. He hated being called “Ani” by everyone, well that is everyone except for you. 

He managed to mumble a quieted, “thanks,”

Anakin walked out to his car, opening the glove box for the make-up wipes you kept stashed, cleaning the painted skull off his face. He started the car and circled around to the next block. 

________________

“Sabé! We’re out of drinks, I’m gonna grab some more!” Padmé called out to her friend from the kitchen. 

“Okay, thanks, Paddy!” Sabé yelled back before turning her focus back to the rom-com on TV.

Padmé made her way down the stairs, each step creaking with her force. She strode to the cold room, various slacks of expensive meat hanging from the hooks on the ceiling. Padmé maneuvered through the room reaching the end and grabbing a set of six beers. She turned back, beers in hand, weaving through the slacks of hanging meat when she was pulled to the side by a pair of anonymous arms. When the infamous mask came into view she yelped. 

Padmé was shaking. She felt her mouth go dry and her senses numb. “Jess this is not funny, you really scared me.” She attempted to brush it off, laughing, to stay as calm and collected as she could. 

The raspy voice of a modulator spoke. “You think this is funny Padmé?” It asked and suddenly a knife was plunged into her stomach. Instantly pain flooded her body, she screamed, as loud as she could, but her screams were quickly muffed by the figure's gloved hand. 

Tears fell down her face, “What did I ever do to you,” She asked her muffled cries coming through. 

A dark chuckle arose from ghostface, “Nothing.” 

Padmé kicked and pulled away as best she could, blood pouring from the stab wound in her stomach. She knew no one was coming for her and she needed to do all she could to survive.

Padmé delivered a hard blow to the Slasher's stomach and their grip loosened. She bolted from the masked figure, clutching her wound as tears poured from her eyes. 

She was only free of him for seconds before his strong hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her back, only for another excruciating thrust of the knife to rip through her flesh. The pain was too much. She could barely breathe. More crimson blood spurted from her back. And with each passing second her body weakened. 

Ghostface pulled on her shoulder to face him, “All out of fight are we now, Padmé?” The deep voice echoed.

Padmé whimpered against his hold, before thrashing in his grip once again. Ghostface humoured her by releasing her watching as she desperately tried to crawl away. He allowed her to get all but ten feet away from him before pouncing on her like a lion to its prey, delivering a swift jab through her collarbone. Padmé let out a blood-curdling scream as ghostface picked her up and squared the previous wound of her shoulder blade with a lone meat hook, releasing her to dangle from the ceiling like a piece of butchered meat. The jagged hook impaled her smooth skin, allowing perfuse amounts of blood to gush from her near-lifeless body. Finally, Padmé’s frame saged, drained of all life. Dark red blood pooled on the floor as ghostface sought out his next victim. 

________________

Sabé and Satine’s giggles were heard through the house as the two laughed at the movie before them. It had been nearly twenty minutes since their friend Padmé went to retrieve more beer, but now they were beginning to worry. 

Satine was the first to speak up, “Sabé do you think Padmé’s alright? It’s been quite a while since she went downstairs.”

Sabé waved her off, “I’m sure she fine, probably just got carried away and started drinking.”

Satine leaned back into the couch, but something about the situation did not feel right.

As the girl neared the end of the movie they were sprawled out on the couch, Sabé nearest to the living room entrance. 

No one heard him. The figure crept into the room without a sound. The only noise that radiated was that of the TV, and the deadly scream of Sabé in suit. 

Satine whipped her head around to the horrific sight of ghostface repeatedly stabbing her best friend. “Sabé!” Satine cried out in fear. 

Blood soaked her clothes, staining the couch. Sabé attempted to move but was too weak to do so. The last words she managed to mutter before her body failed her were “Run,”

Satine screamed in anguish as she ran from her dying friend. She had reached the front door, turning the knob when the killer’s knife was thrown, lodging itself in the back of her neck. Satine collapsed to the flood, choking on the spurting mess of her own blood. 

Ghostface yanked his knife from her blood-covered throat, as he ascended the stairs to the upper floor.

________________

Jess hovered above you, angling his face to kiss you hard. His hands found your hips as he dug into the flesh of your thighs. 

“I love that you’re mine,” He groaned against your mouth. 

You shivered under his hold, before pulling away from him, “Jess, can we talk first,” 

He continued littering your body with kisses, “mmhm,” was the only response he gave. 

You pushed him off you slightly, sitting upright on the bed as he begrudgingly did the same. “I don’t like how you talk with Anakin. He’s the most important person in my life and his approval means the world to me. So could you try to just–I don’t know, just at least try to get along with him.”

Jess sighed, “Damnit y/n!” He screamed, startling you, “I don’t wanna hear about Anakin. I hate how close he is to you, so no, I will not change anything. He is trying to take you from me, you're just too blind to see it.” 

You shut your mouth, teeth grinding against each other in frustration, “Jess, come on, please-”

He cut you off, “No! I don’t care how much you deny it, you have to at least be aware of the way he treats you. That guy literally hates everyone on this planet but you. He is always with you, he’s practically the one dating you. He drives you places, buys you things, calls you pet names and everything!”

“Stop it Jess! Anakin is not trying to take me from you, he’s just protective because of what happened with my last boyfriend. He’s looking out for me. And he is my best friend. So if you don’t get yourself together for me, because Anakin is important to me, then you can leave!” 

Jess stayed quiet, as you awaited anxiously for his answer. Your nails subconsciously picked at the flesh of your knuckles. Eventually, Jess spoke up, “Fine y/n. I’ll do better with Anakin,” he said forcefully.

You smiled in relief because as much as you liked Jess, Anakin would always be your top priority. Jesse offered you a kind smile back before leaning in to place another kiss on your lips. As each kiss progressed, he seemed to become hungrier and hungrier.

Your boyfriend lifted his shirt from his body, pressing you close to his chest. His kisses became more urgent and desperate as his hands travelled lower and lower from your stomach.

One second your boyfriend was kissing you and the next he was thrown to the ground. The ominous ghostface stood before you, and no–this was not the fictional slasher in the movies, this killer was real, he was real and he had a eight-inch metal knife gripped tightly in his gloved hand. And contrary to most you didn’t scream. You were too shocked to be seen face to face with the real ghostface, the California killer stood towering before you and he had just flung your boyfriend to the floor.

Contrary to your reaction, Jess did indeed scream. He scrabbled to his feet, pressing himself impossibly close to the wall of Padmé’s bedroom. 

Ghostface stalked forward to Jesse, knife raised and body fixed. Instead of delivering a fatal blow to the neck, he plunged the knife into Jess’ right hand. Your boyfriend cried out in pain. You stood still as blood spilled from his hand. Ghostface then repeated his action to your boyfriend's other hand. You cringed at the impact of the sharp weapon and Jess’ flesh. Your boyfriend let out another scream of pain.

“Stop, stop, please, stop,” Jess begged, ghostface’s knife, still impaled in his left hand.

The dark raspy voice of the modulator came through. “Pathetic little thing,” It scoffed, yanking the knife from your boyfriend’s broken and bloody hand. 

“Stop.” You spoke, and you almost wish you hadn’t. Ghost face turned to you ever so slowly. He moved with an eerie terror, facing you as your boyfriend gasped in pain. 

“Why should I sweetheart?” The modulated voice asked.

The pet name sent shivers through your body. “Answer me,” He spoke again.

“Because I don’t know your motive.” You stated.

“What if I don’t have one,”

His answer sent terror shooting through you. But then your thoughts drifted to your friends downstairs. “Padmé?” You questioned, a shake in your voice came through, but you did your best to push it down. 

“Dead,” He responded.

“Sabé, Satine?” You asked hopefully.

“Dead.”

He stared you down, waiting for you to ask another question. “What about Jess and I?”

“One of you will die, and the other may live, it depends on how generous I’m feeling.”

You sat there for three erie seconds before nodding. Before a name pounded at your mind.

Ghost face turned from you a brief second to stab his knife into Jess’ heel, pulling the blade down, he severed it from his leg. Jess cried in pain. Ghostface did the same to the opposite heel before swiftly plunging the jagged knife into Jess’ face. You made a move to stand, but ghostface threatened you, “If I see you move another muscle from that bed, I’ll slit lover boy’s throat.”

You remained completely still. The only movement was the rise and fall of your chest. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you made the choice to speak, “What about Anakin?” 

Ghostface froze at the name before straightening himself, “I gutted him like a fish,” 

A broken sob escapes your lips. “No,” you say softly, “No, no no,” Each word ripping the anger from your soul. You screamed, a scream so full of raw heartbreak it burned through your throat.

It was then that you forgot about everyone. You jumped up, neglecting ghostface’s threat and launched yourself at the man who took away your entire world. 

Ghostface stumbled back, clearly not expecting you to attack him with such savage-like force. You didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got hurt, or if he killed you, or even if he killed Jess. Your thoughts ran red. All you close see was Anakin's mauled lifeless body. 

You grabbed the stainless steel water bottle from Padmé’s nightstand and dashed it across ghostface’s mask. His head was knocked back from the impact.

“I will kill you for this!” You screamed in rage. Hitting him over and over. Ghostface held his hands up to shield his face from your vicious attacks. “He was all I had!” You yell, pulling his hands away. “Anakin was my everything!” You scream again, sheer anger coursing through your body. You were now straddling ghostface, your body pressing him into the floor. Ghostface finally wrestles the water bottle away from you, pushing you down, switching places with the previous position you had him in. He pins your wrists above your head as you thrash with maddening anger in his grasp. You’re body finally gives in as you sob in utter heartbreak. Thick tears pour from your face, “What are you waiting for,” You choke, “--just kill me, there’s no point in living without him,” You sob again, sending tremors through your body. 

You’re shaking uncontrollably as ghostface angles his knife to press against your tear-stained cheek, “Now, why would I do that my angel,” he replies.

You’re entire body freezes as you process his words. You slowly lift your trembling hands to the bottom of ghostface’s mask, and when he doesn’t stop you, you tug at the mask, allowing it to fall from the person’s face. Anakin’s face. Your Anakin. He’s okay, he’s here with you right now and that’s all you can think about before you throw your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He reciprocates your actions, kissing you with fervour. 

“I love you,” Anakin whispers.

“You are my everything.” You reply, heart full of emotion, before pressing your lips back to his.

Though he has done unimaginable horrors you still kiss him, because you know that no matter what Anakin is your life, and you are his. Nothing mattered besides him and only him. As Jess bled to death Anakin took his girl, but now in his final moments, he wonders if you really ever his to begin with. Because if you were deranged enough to kiss the man who killed your closest friends, you must have been madly in love with him for the better part of your entire life.

[k-marzolf]

I’m gonna live forever;

title inspired by Irene Cara’s song Fame.

cw; hit man!Billy Russo, ADHD coded reader, kissing, a hint at Billy’s darker side, fem!reader.

summary; Billy is your neighbor that you’re enamored with, but what secrets is he hiding?

tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @bookloverfilmoholic @aoi-targaryen @firequeensposts @oops89 @thejanecampaign @littleblackcatinwonderland @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @cant-help-simping @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @firexfate @rosaleenablack @idaofinfinity @russosafehaven @vaguekayla

&&&&&&

You see him with her in the drink aisle; she’s flirting as he grabs your favorite wine, and puts it in the cart. You feel the sting of jealousy; she’s beautiful.

She was like Snow White, or maybe some Twilight vampire, minus the sparkling. A Volturi member, ready to kill you for your blood. Or maybe—a fairy but ones with claws, and fangs. A human—you stop yourself as you go on yet another tangent.

You look down at yourself in your sweatpants and one of his PT shirts you’d swiped. You made a habit of stealing his clothes like a little gnome, they were comfortable. And they smelled like him. You casually make your way over, missing the way his eyes light up when he sees you.

You know your neighbor isn’t yours, but god you want him to be. Karen had seen him twirling you around in the hallway, with a glass of wine in your hands, somehow not spilling.

“I got the better wine.” He had husked in your ear, opening his apartment door.

“Are you sayin’ I have cheap wine, sir?” You had huffed.

He hummed, “‘I’m trying to catch a fairy.” He said, breath tickling your ear.

You had stumbled forward, nearly spilling the wine.

He laughed, “First day on your new legs, Ariel?” He said, helping you into the apartment.

“He’s an asshole, but a beautiful one, isn’t he?”

When you approach, the woman looks at you with disdain. But Billy wraps his arm around you, kissing your mouth, making your cheeks blaze, and eyebrows raise in surprise. “Hey, fairy.” He says, smiling at your wide eyed expression.

The woman curls her lip glaring at you, before she leaves the two of you. Not a vampire, then. He sighs once she’s gone. “What a pain in the ass. They only ever want my beauty. I’m a goddamn prize to them.” He admits in irritation.

“You could walk around with a bag over your head. Like Scarecrow. I’d dress up like Batman, too. You know, so you won’t be alone. Or a pumpkin like the headless horseman. We could put LED lights inside to give it the murder kitten vibe, and I could be Ichabod Crane, or—” You ramble, the train wreck gaining speed.

He cuts you off, kissing you mouth, tasting your iced coffee, and you make a surprised noise in the back of your throat.

He looks at you as he pulls back, and gives you a boyish grin, making butterflies erupt in your belly. “Wanna get some wine and snacks?” He asks you, pointing to the wine in the cart, enjoying your sweet smile.

“We could have a movie night, we could watch the Terminator, or Alien. Bloodthirsty aliens against a woman and her cat, I’m also not opposed to homicidal dinosaurs, or The Mummy, gets the ancient Egypt nerd in me happy—” You ramble.

Billy grins, cheeks dimpling. “Sounds good, fairy.”

You both agree no to rom-coms (you loathe those, something Karen never understood, “Romance and comedy, what could be better?” She asked you one time. “Criminal Minds. Serial killers and Spencer Reid,” you had deadpanned. Karen had blanched), so you and Billy decided to throw some movies in a bowl, and select one.

Forging relationships has always been difficult, due to you being so ditsy and a chatterbox.

Maybe with Billy, it doesn’t have to be.

x

“Young man?” An older lady stops Billy in his tracks as he moves to climb the stairs. Her hair is graying, and pulled up in a tight bun; she has laugh lines, and her eyes are warm.

“Yeah?” Billy asks, one foot on the step in front of him, body turned.

“Thank you for befriending her. I’ve always worried about how isolated she is. But she seems at ease with you. No one should be alone all the time.” She says, and Billy’s heart aches at the image of you alone with no one.

You peek from the top of the stairs, “Bill?” You say impatiently, giving him golden retriever energy.

“Comin’,” he says, turning back to the lady who shoos him up the stairs.

“What’d she want?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet, noticing an outline of a knife in his combat boot.

Billy ruffles your hair distracting you, “Just worried about you.” He hums, kissing your cheek. “How about that movie night?”

You give him a sweet smile, giggling as he raced you down to the end of the hall where your shared apartment was, carrying chips and salsa.

He was going to steal your heart, you were sure of it.

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Serial Designation N, killer, spaceship pilot, and hairdresser?!

(takes place between Promening and Cabin Fever)

Uzi had gotten home from school, her Dad was out doing some 'dumb doors shit' so she messaged N to come over so they could watch anime while plotting what their next step was to figure out what was going on with Doll. There was a knock at the door of the Doorman residence, to which Uzi went out to check what it was.

On the doorstep, there was a box addressed to Uzi.

"Aw hell yeah!" Uzi cackled as she picked the box up with her solver and carried it in. She ripped the box open and excitedly exclaimed, "YES! Finally! My spare wig is here!" she forgot to relock the front door as she ran to go try it on. Uzi went to the bathroom, took off her toque, unclipped her normal wig and popped it off before she put on the new one, except.... there was a problem.

"FUCKSAKES!" Uzi cursed as she looked at her new wig. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and groaned in annoyance, "They sent the longer style one!" She stormed out of the bathroom and went over to the knife rack but was stopped by a friendly bubbly voice of the only boy she liked.

"Heya Uzi! Did you do something different with your hair?"

Uzi jumped slightly as she heard this, turning to see it was N. "Robo Jesus, N! Don't sneak up on me like that." She crossed her arms and scolded with a slight blush on her LED screen, "And it's not like I like it..." she scolded, "They sent the wrong one."

N studied Uzi's tritone wig and the knife she held. "You were going to cut it yourself with a knife, right?" he assessed with a slight laugh.

"Yeah and?" she remarked bluntly as she twirled the knife, trying to be cool.

N suggested as he laughed sheepishly, "How were you going to cut the back without butchering it?"

Uzi paused. How was she going to cut the back. N laughed a little, "I have weird dreams sometimes about me as a butler and sometimes there's a girl who asks the exact same thing." He flexed out his disassembly claws from his left hand and trilled, "I could cut it for you, Uze! I don't mind, I like doing anything!"

The purple haired worker drone sighed, "Okay, but if you wreck it, you have to buy me a new one." She lead him back to her room where she sat at her gamer chair on top of a phone book to give extra height. She swung her legs slightly as N came up behind her.

The only boy disassembly drone asked playfully, "What kind of look were we going for, Zi? Did you want it more or less the same as your normal one?"

Uzi thought a little before showing N by holding a section with her fingers, "I want the front kind of the same, the back maybe an inch longer but I don't want it blunt cut at all."

N giggled, "I can do that!" and he took a section of striped hair from the front with his more worker-drone like hand. He pinched the section lightly while holding it just past Uzi's shoulders and asked, "Here good?" Uzi shook her head slightly before suggesting, "Maybe leave this chunk a little longer, I like the stripes."

N ran one of his knife claws in a diagonal cut along the section of hair, sending a chunk of glossy synthetic tresses floating to the floor. "Hey! It's looking better already!" he exclaimed in joy before showing Uzi the next section by holding it over her shoulder, "This good for the back?"

"Go for it, N!" the gothy worker drone invited as she sat back and relaxed, this was way more fun than she thought it would be. She looked at the reflection from the dark computer screen in front of her, seeing N cheerfully running his claws over the length of the wig.

N cheerfully and diligently worked his way to the back, his tail swishing joyfully, he hummed a happy tune to himself as he made pretty purple synthetic strands fall like the snow outside.

"Hey N, how's things turning out back there?" Uzi queried, slightly swinging her legs back and forth happily.

"Your new wig is coming along great, Uzi!" N trilled as he clipped away the strands hanging near Uzi's upper back.

The gothy worker drone was feeling kind of cheerful, which was unusual for her but she admitted happily, "Cool! Hey, thanks for, like, doing this for me, N!" She was actually enjoying being pampered like this.

"It's no prob, Uze!" N giggled as he ruffled her hair a little before checking the layers to make sure they were choppy but stylish, "I like doing anything!" N kept working away while still having fun doing a task that was way out of his normal work. He teased Uzi, "You're going to look so pretty when this is all done."

"Nuh Uh!" Uzi insisted back in an equally teasing tone, "I'm gonna look cool and edgy! I'm not pretty."

N spun the chair so Uzi was facing him. He held the long bangs that were covering one of her eyes and lifted them away from her face. "Who said you can't be pretty and cool and edgy?" N asked as he cut Uzi's bangs diagonally to make them still keep their emo shape while allowing his purple eyed friend to be able to see. He tilted her chin up slightly with his right hand.

Uzi blushed in surprise at him doing this, she looked away shyly.

N ran his claws over the last section of hair that needed to be cut and then he retracted his claws, as he said, "Sorry, just needed to see how it hangs on that angle to get it juuuuust right," he let go of Uzi and went to find a handheld mirror.

Uzi covered her problematic eye with her bangs as N brought her a mirror and took a look at her new haircut. "Whoa!" Uzi laughed in surprise as she looked back and forth a little, fluffing up the choppy layers with her hands, "This looks fucking sick! I love it, N!"

N's tail wagged happily, he giggled as he put the mirror back and went to find a broom, "It's like I always say, I like doing anything." He glanced back to Uzi before he exited the room, "Especially if it means I get to spend time with you." he skipped out of Uzi's room.

Uzi put her hand over her chest and smiled, was he always this sweet? Maybe, or... no, they weren't dating, were they? No, this was just a platonic makeover... right? Uzi got off her gaming chair and started picking up the chunks of hair on her floor and putting them in the garbage pail under her desk.

The tall disassembly drone boy came back in and looked to see Uzi cleaning up. "I got it," he insisted as he picked Uzi up and sat her on her bed before she could respond. He took the broom and swept up the rest of the polyester-nylon blend strands

Uzi had a lot on her mind, everything that happened at prom, but also now these weird feelings for N. She pushed back the soft warm fuzzy feelings though and asked, "So, N... do you have any thoughts on what the next step is to figure out everything with the solver and Doll and what's going on with you and V?"

N shrugged as he put the sweepings in the trash can, his tail wagging softly as he suggested, "Whatever it is, we will figure it out together!"

The End

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine- Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Death, blood, bleeding out, making out, kissing, men being creepy, swearing, blood, trauma, cliffhanger moment

A/N: Guys I am so sorry. School has actually picked up and so have rehearsals, I'm losing my mind, but I'm trying to write multiple things at once, and that's so silly of me. I'm sorry this is so short, and I promise the next one will be longer. Thank y'all for your patience. It means a lot! PS That's fully Lady Mac in the painting !!

Part 1 Part 2

In all fairness, it was your turn.

Spencer had been captured and drugged, Derek had been arrested and charged with multiple murders, Gideon’s lost love had been murdered by a serial killer, Elle had someone reach into her body and write with her blood on her living room wall, so truthfully, you were a little shocked it had taken you this long to be murdered, or kidnapped, or who knows what else. 

The team hadn’t royally fucked up, per se. You all were beyond careful, but sometimes, when you misprofile, things happen. How were you supposed to know that it was the girl and her boyfriend, and not just the boyfriend. 

The best part about this was the fact that you got to watch as the woman you saved two days ago get stabbed to death repeatedly, screaming at you to save her. Her blood splattered across your face, your clothes, your skin, permanently staining it in your mind. Your favorite Shakespeare show had always been Macbeth, it seemed a bit ironic now considering you felt as though you would never wash her blood off your hands. 

The screams would echo around in your head as you stared at her body on the mattress across from you. The red grew in splotches like a sick mold, blooming out from underneath.

The boyfriend, whose name was slipping your mind, slid the knife up your thigh, and you couldn’t tell if he was drawing more of your blood, or dragging hers across you. 

The couple had been so kind as to remove your shirt and pants, leaving you in nothing but undergarments, and no socks. Colorado was fucking cold at night

You heard the girl, Millie, giggling as she shoved the woman’s body with her foot. You winced as you felt the knife going higher than you would have preferred, his hand sliding around your waist. 

“Andrew. What are you doing?” 

His name was Andrew. Got it. 

His hands immediately retracted, shrugging and crossing his arms, but still standing over you. 

“Go dispose of her body.” 

Andrew nodded, quickly tugging your hair, painfully, before moving to clean up the mess the two of them had made. You swallowed the groan in your throat and closed your eyes; the woman’s body never left your sight though. 

“Why does a gorgeous agent like you wear such a boring necklace.”

Your eyes shot open as Millie swung the little gold chain around her fingers. You pulled you hand, intending to reach your neck, but the restraint dug into your wrist, surely leaving a mark in the process. 

You hadn't realized it was gone. Your neck suddenly felt so cold, so make, without it.

“Oh so which one of them gave you this?” 

You exhaled, but kept your eyes on her hand at all times, not wanting to lose sight of the necklace. 

She smirked, watching as every muscle in your body stayed as tense as it could. 

“Was it…Agent Morgan…Agent Prentiss…no, hmm…” She twirled it around, enjoying as you fidgeted around, terrified that the necklace would break. 

“The skinny one?” You tried so hard not to react, but you have this nasty habit of biting your cheeks when you get extremely nervous or worried, and Millie’s smirk turned wicked when she realized. 

“Ah, so it is the nerdy one…interesting…Andy?”

Andrew, who had been leaning on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, making your skin crawl, looked over at Millie. 

“Baby…” She drawled, “Put this necklace on me?”

“No.” You couldn’t help it as the words shoved their way out of your mouth before you even had a chance to process it. 

Andrew stalked towards Millie, eyeing her up and down before snatching the necklace out of her hand. “It’s real pretty on you baby.” He slowly placed it on her neck, the gold contrasting against her skin. 

“Ya know, I just have to ask…what does this stupid pendant even mean?” 

You shook your head, eyes cast downward, unable to watch someone else wear the necklace Spencer had given you. 

“Hey. Fucking answer me.” She kicked your shoulder causing you to wince in pain as you felt the bruising start to form immediately. 

You missed it as Andrew picked up the knife. You missed it as Millie took it from him. You didn’t miss how she stabbed you in the gut, causing your eyes to flash white. 

People say pain is hot, it shoots through you like a fire you can’t put out, but they’re wrong. It is ice in your veins. The numbness slowly takes over your body as it shuts down, trying to avoid the unavoidable. 

Your mouth let out a strangled “fuck” when Millie ripped the knife from your stomach, causing the blood to start oozing out of your wound. 

God it was not supposed to end this way. 

You placed a hand over your stomach, barely registering the wetness as you pulled it up to your eyes. You watched as the blood dripped down the sides of your hands, and that's when the adrenaline shot kicked out from underneath you. 

“Oh my god.” you mumbled, placing your hand over the wound. The first thing you were supposed to do was stop the bleeding. With what? There’s nothing around? Panic was seeping through every pore in your body. You had been trained for this, why couldn’t you remember what to do? What should you even use to stop the bleeding, god it fucking hurt. 

You watched as the door across the room slammed shut, causing you to flinch at the sound, causing you to groan in pain at the sudden movement. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” 

This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t just die while some sick and twisted bitch walked around with your necklace on, while you slowly bled out on some disgusting mattress in god knows where. 

Maybe this is what Spencer thought about while he was dying. 

“I’m not dying.” You whispered, wavering slightly. The blood loss was getting to your head and your eyes were getting heavy. “I’m not…shit. It’s fine…I’m”

His hand was softer than you remembered, but at least he wasn’t as nervous as before. It was your six month anniversary and Spencer had gone all out. He had taken you out to dinner, your favorite restaurant in the area, wined and dined you. It was perfect. The two of you had ended up back at your place, your back against the door as you dug your hand around in your pocket. 

“Spence.’ You mumbled, smiling against his lips, losing all focus as one of his hands grabs your waist, squeezing it with anticipation. 

Your lack of focus spurred Spencer on, and suddenly the door to your apartment was opening–he had found your keys and opened it, all while distracting you with his lips, his touch.  You were glad someone had their head on straight. 

You stumbled back slightly, not leaving his touch, feeling the warmth on his hands on your arm, pulling you back into him. 

“Move in with me.” He whispered against your lips, and you’re not sure if you heard him correctly. 

“What?” You whispered, taking the slightest step back, opening your eyes and looking up into his eyes. His sweet, shining eyes, filled with hope, and something a bit more. 

“Move in with me…” Spencer licked his bottom lip, that same nervous tick that would drive you fucking crazy whenever you looked at him. 

“What about the team…” Spencer shook his head. 

“Who cares.” He smiled at you. “I just want to wake up next to you every morning.”

Spencer kissed your lips softly.

“Please sweetheart” Your jaw.

“Every single morning” Your neck. 

“Spence…” You moaned slightly, surely leaving bruises on his arms from your grip. Your mind was everywhere, unable to truly cling onto any of the words Spencer was whispering to you.

“In our bed.” 

“Sold.” You pulled his head up and basically launched yourself at him, lips on his. 

Spencer was not having as great of a time in his head as you were. 

Just as the team was getting out of their cars, he had heard your voice, causing him to immediately go on high alert, hand on his gun in an instant. The rest of the team had followed suit, all of them quickly looking at Hotch and Reid, trying to figure out a plan. 

Reid almost had to be held back by Morgan the way he basically started to walk right into the building. He knew what happened in hostage situations. He knew how unforgiving captures could be. He couldn’t stop picturing all of the possibilities of what made you scream out in such pain. 

But suddenly, he heard the front door slam, causing all of them to instantly aim at the couple, demands and yelling all happening so slowly.

He could hear the suspects voice, that dumb asshole that wouldn’t stop flirting with you in  the restaurant they had eaten at a couple days ago. His arrogance was the least of Spencer’s problems now. 

Then, he heard a woman’s voice, calling the unsub “sweetheart” and “darling” and “baby”. How could the miss the girlfriend? 

She had seemed so…submissive. But clearly, the profile was off a little bit. 

That’s when he heard the first gun shots go off, causing him to look up at the body on the ground, and the girl sobbing but getting on her knees. The boyfriend had a gun in his hand, but was too slow. 

Morgan quickly walked up to the girl, Hotch following him closely, gun trained on her. 

Hotch’s eyes went wide, and he quickly gave a nod to Emily, causing her to block Spencer’s path. 

“Where did you get this?” Hotch yanked it off of her neck, clutching the necklace in his hand. 

“You’ll find what’s left of 'em in there.” She smiled sickly, getting shoved by Morgan towards the black SUV brigade. 

But Spencer had already seen the necklace, and heard her answer. It was a miracle how agile he was, considering the FBI had to waive all of his physical exams to let him go into the field. Before anyone could really clear the building, Spencer was already inside of it, ignoring the shouts from his superiors and peers. 

He slowly made his way through, trying not to vomit at all of the blood all over the floors and the very clear drag marks of a body. 

His eyes landed on your body, bloody mattress and all and he froze. He couldn’t believe his fucking eyes.

Next Part

________________________________________________________

SSMF Taglist: @raely-study @multifandoms-assemble @marylovesevanpeters @shqwqrma @niya06

[streamdotpng]

Wait

Addition to the blanket au

What if

The nightshades are aware that Wednesday is dating someone? The bruises that line her throat is obvious and it wasn't like Wednesday was trying to hide it.

Even when asked, Wednesday didn't blink. "yes, I do have a paramour."

It makes them think at times, what kind of person is Wednesday Addams dating?

A serial killer? One offers and the others ooo's and aaa's in agreement before hoping that wasn't the case

A mobster! Another says and yoko thinks of someone with tattoos immediately. It could be her thing

Arranged marriage? Someone conspiring whispers. It got shot down real quick because wednesday didn't have a ring and they're damn sure Wednesday would go all black widow on them

Anyways, there were rumors and gossip between the group of who Wednesday's paramour was but the moment they met her elusive blanket monster of a roommate, their thoughts got occupied

But a few weeks have passed and the shock of a growling blanket isn't so startling, the group talked about what Enid did for a living

As they tossed ideas around, they can't help but realize that wait a sec

.. These are the same assumptions they've made for wednesday secret lover

Are they perhaps one in the same!?? I mean, it'd make sense. With how easily Wednesday slips into covered arms and didn't seem so bothered at the bigger woman's touch.

They're dating!!!

But still, it didn't stop them from wondering just what did Enid do

They never did get an answer, until a black supercar waited outside of their campus gate. There were a few other students waiting sround, some even taking pictures but it isn't until Wednesday (and in turn the nightshades) was sighted does a door open and a blond with squared sunglasses step out.

Oh god, who was she? A model?

Their eyes draw to the scars on her cheek and that thought went elsewhere. Maybe a bodyguard? They know that Wednesday was rich but rich enough to need a bodyguard?

Or maybe, they hoped with anticipating eyesm, this was Enid?

Like she's sure that blond hair was similar to the mop hidden under layers of cloth. It was hard to know much about Enid but they know that she's a light tanned lady with blue eyes and blond hair.

"Wednesday!" she calls out and the lowkey broke college students reel over what she wore. Dressed to the tens in shades of black and grey, the suited woman walked around the car meet them halfway.

This..

The nightshades look at each other in panic. This wasn't Enid! Sure they were both blond but maybe Wednesday has a type.

"what're you doing here?" Wednesday asks and the nightshades were given a front row view to the way her jaw tenses and a tinge of color form on her ears.

Yeah nope, that's the lover alright.

Yoko sends her prayers to Enid. With how overprotective the wereblanket was, she's sure that there were some feelings involved. She prays that her girlie (they haven't talked at all) handles this well

A cheeky grin was Wednesday's answer as the blond twirled the car keys in her finger. "well yeah but lunch with Mr dad ended early so I thought I could pick you up!" those brows furrowed before the smile turned into something a bit more softer "unless you'd like to walk home?"

"No, I dont-" Wednesday mutters, her head ducking and is that blush growing!? "You didn't have to do this, I know that you must be tired."

Blond bodyguard(?) laughs and with the keys of a way too fancy car inbetween her fingers, she tilted Wednesday's head up.

"chin up, 'day. You know I could never be tired of you." it takes Wednesday nodding before blondie stands back. the college students immediately straighten their back as a stare was leveled onto them. "I also wanted to meet your friends! I haven't been able to get a clear look at them after all."

Bianca blinked, ignoring the way Wednesday grumbles a 'not my friends' to ask a question that popped into their heads. "excuse me? I don't think we met."

"... Did we not?" the blond wonders and she looks at wednesday before scratching her head and looking back at them. "you're swordfish lady right?"

Bianca's brows twitch. "swordfish lady?"

A smile grows as she snaps her fingers in remembrance. "yeah! Because you fence with Wednesday and you're a siren so I thought itd fit."

"you have such... A way with names," swordfish lady grits out as yoko barges in with a hand raised.

"what about me!?"

Blondie rubs her finger on her chin before she points with an aha! "yolks!"

Yoko blinks. ".. Like the egg?"

Blondie nods, her smile wide and clearly enthusiastic. Wednesday is standing right beside her, giving her usual side eye but staring with an affection she usually only held for Enid.

Rip enid, imagine losing your crush to someone who lowkey looks like you.

"Enid, we're wasting daylight," Wednesday calls out and Enid startles back.

The now named Enid panics, flustering an oh shoot! As she removed her sunglasses to reveal those familiar blue eyes before passing it over to Wednesday.

"it was nice talking to you guys!" Enid calls out and before the nightshades know it, the duo were gone. Wednesday having been ushered onto her seat with Enid closing it behind before hopping in and zooming away.

"did Wednesday just say Enid?" Eugene asks.

Ajax blinks. "did Enid mention having lunch with Wednesday's dad?"

Xavier sighs, a hand on his face. There went his chances. "maybe we should revisit the arranged marriage idea..."

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

Elias has been causing problems for the Captivating Princess, so she hires someone to deal with that. Things don't go quite how she would have hoped, though the job does get done.

featuring @thedeafprophet's charming serial killer Rory!!

Word Count: 1,247.

Major death, and violence! Stalking, stabbing, killing, and more to come!

Relationships: Elias Leroux/ Aurora 'Rory' Winn, Aurora 'Rory' Winn/The Captivating Princess (sort of. she's trying.)

“I never would have expected such an unsavory individual to be dressed so well.”

“ ‘S not all that uncommon.”

The Captivating Princess crinkled her nose in distaste. An upper-class accent lurked beneath the working-class slang. Which meant that the disrespect, and lack of manners, was intentional. Still, the Malignant Assassin was the best tool that money could buy, or so the rumors went. She wouldn’t be putting up with this otherwise.

Unfortunately, she needs to put up with it. “You weren’t the easiest to find. There were quite a few difficulties arranging this on my end. It would have been easier if you had come to the Palace in the first place.”

They snorted, but offered no reply. 

The Princess studied their eyes, drew their glowing green gaze towards her. Still, nothing. Normally people would be falling over themselves to appease and apologize to her by this point. Yet she seemed to have little such affect on them. Peculiar. Or perhaps her effect was that they were co-operating at all.

Well, if they weren’t going to talk, then that gave her an opportunity. “I’m certain you know who I am, and there’s not a soul in London who doesn’t know my family,” she begins. Really, the words themselves are meaningless, but talking gives her the ability to persuade the other person, and influence them before she even brings up what is it that she wants. Manipulation is an intricate and slow waltz. 

More importantly however, it gave her time to evaluate the situation, without it being made obvious that she was doing so.

The room was dimly lit, with only a few scant candles. The darkness of it made the Assassin’s eyes stand out all the more. She could see the red glow of her own eyes reflected in them, which perplexed her all the more that they were still so defiant. 

They do not sit on the chair, rather they lounge across it. The improper posture clashes with their formal outfit. They even wore gloves, though their hands fiddled with a knife. They ran a thumb over the flat of the blade, or occasionally twirl it back and forth. She even watched as they cycled through a few practiced motions which she was certain they’ve used on past jobs. Twisting and twirling the knife with more grace than expected.

She focused more on the physical characteristics. Their hair was long, blond, and looked closer to unkempt than not. It wasn’t kept in any sort of up-do whatsoever, merely brushed out of their face, a few stands tied back. It further cemented in her mind the Assassin’s distaste for anything found in proper society. She noticed they tended to keep their hair from tangling around their ears at least. It showed off their jewelry, though this is not what caught her attention. No, what caught her attention was the elongated length, and pointed shape. Ears like that nearly always indicated a dangerous individual indeed.

Yet, despite these details, the Assassin commanded no audience. They sat there, twirling their knife, and looking very bored indeed.. They simply joined in to the background hum, except for those glowing eyes.

“So I-”

“You want me to kill someone,” they interrupted. “It’s the only reason someone contacts me.”

The Princess was at a loss for words for one precious moment. If persuasion was a slow waltz, then the band came to a dead halt. It was not merely that they were bad at dancing, simply that they refused, then stuck their foot out when she tried to make them join in. She continued anyways, refusing them the pleasure of seeing her stumble. “Yes, I have a job for your specific expertise.”

“Could’a said that ten minutes ago,�� they grumbled.

She pretended she didn’t hear that, and continued anyway. “Just one teensy tiny little problem I need you to resolve for me.”

“And if it’s such a ‘teeny tiny little problem’ why can’t you ‘resolve’ it? ‘Fraid to get your hands dirty, your Highness?” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Her smile tightened. “The very nature of the situation requires things cannot be traced back to me. Hence them requiring your skills.” She paused, and studied their face. A thought occurred. “Are you truly that keen to miss out on payment?”

Their eyes flicker with interest. Ah, so that’s the language they speak. She’s found the steps to this particular waltz at last, and they’re quite simple ones at that. Her face relaxers once more. Yes, she knows what to do now.

“Are you willing t’ pay my services? I ain’t cheap.” She smirks. That was the tone she liked to hear. The Princess reached down and grabbed a small bag from the floor. The contents were muffled by the thick velvet, but the Assassin’s ears still twitched. They watched her intently, as she reached in and withdrew a large and fabulous diamond. She twisted it in her hands, allowing it to catch the candlelight. “If you

agree, I’ll pay you this one now, as a show of… good faith. You’ll receive a dozen more, all of similar value, when the deed has been done.”

Their eyes widen slightly, though their face remains neutral. “Awful lot for one job,” they mumble. Then, in a louder voice, “I’ll need a name and your conditions, Princess.”

“They’ve been a persistent little problem. Elias Leroux, do you know them?”

She watched as they considered the name for a minute, then shook their head. “Heard the name once or twice, never met ‘em.”

Despite that being what she had hoped for, the Princess was still a bit shocked. It was harder to find someone who didn’t know them, than it was to find someone who did. Still, this was very good news indeed. This Assassin was one of the rare people in London the little usurper hadn’t won over. “They wear very messy clothes. I expect they’ll be easy for you to find.”

“And the conditions?”

“Firstly, as I mentioned earlier, This needs to be done in such a way that it cannot be traced back to me. No messy loose threads, no one to see it happen, nor to discover it too soon, none of that. Isolation would be ideal, I should think. I want this done cleanly.” She paused, waiting for interjection. When none came, she continued. “Secondly, and far more importantly, I need them to miss an event. This event occurs on the first Thursday of each month, Which month you choose to do so is up to you, so long as you do it. I want them gone the whole night. If you have to keep killing them, do so, and I will pay you the money to make up for it, but they must be gone the entire night. Those are my conditions.”

The Assassin considered it for a moment as they twirled their blade. After a brief moment of thought, they seemed to come to a conclusion. They thrust an open palm in her direction. She pressed the diamond into their glove with a smile. 

The Assassin flashed a sharp smirk, and narrowed their eyes. They retracted their hand quickly, twisting the diamond around now. “Alright, I’ll do it. But what’s t’ stop me from telling everyone their beloved Princess is goin’ around hiring ‘unsavory individuals’ t’ bloody their hands for her?”

She flashed her own smile. “Oh, you can try dear, but no one will believe your word over mine.”

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 6

Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the tag list <3

I had pulled up one of the large lounging chairs to the front porch where I now sat with Tatum and Sindey. The girls were sitting on the railing talking to each other while I was reading a book. A book more specifically about a girl who is madly in love with a serial killer so much so that she ignores the possible signs and because of it he kills her claiming it will make their love immortal. Yeah not a very happy ending, just like most of life. 

  Sid told us about what she said to Gale this morning. How Sidney resolved my little...accident and about how she wasn’t sure that Weary was actually her mother’s killer. 

“What if Cotton Weary is telling the truth? Maybe he was having an affair with your mom?” Tatum asked as she twirled her hair in her fingers. “I mean your dad’s always out of town on business, maybe...your mom was just a very unhappy woman.” Tatum finished with the start of her eyebrows pointed up. 

“If-if they were having an affair then how come Cotton couldn’t prove it in court?” Sid said, as if she just created the world’s first unsolvable puzzle

“Well. You can’t prove a rumor, that's why… it's a rumor,” Tatum responded as she swished her head side to side. 

“Right, created by that little tabloid twit, Gale Weathers,” Sid said, seeming to choke on the name.

“It goes further back Sid...there’s been talk about other men,” Tatum fidgeted with her hands.

  “Hey, I’m going to leave you two alone out here. It sounds like I’m intruding so I’ll be inside. Just shout if you need anything!” I said, hugging my sister and giving Tatum a light peck on the cheek. When I got to the door I looked around a little bit, it felt like someone was staring holes into my head. Once inside I go upstairs to put my book back on the shelf. When I open my door I’m startled by the two tall figures known as Billy and Stu. “What the fuck are you guys doing here?!” I said as I slammed the door shut. “Chill out babe, we just wanted to stop by su casa to see how our fin-” Billy discreetly nudged Stu, “favorite girl was!” Rolling my eyes at the two idiots in front of me I asked, “Why didn’t you just use the front door?” Stu walked up to me and snaked his arms around me while Billy laid half way on my bed. “We wanted it to be a surprise,” he whispered, hot breath fanning my ear. “Yeah because I’m sure Sid and Tatum will be so pleased by this surprise,” I said, unlatching Stu’s hands from my waist. Billy sat up, pulling me to him by my hips, “Why wouldn’t they? We’ve been in your room plenty of times.” I removed his hands from my body, putting them on his lap. I walked over to my desk chair. “Yeah when Sid and Tatum actually knew about it!” I shouted just above a whisper to the two boys. They completely ignored me as Billy went right back to laying on my bed and Stu turned on my stereo. My cassette copy of some Michael Dulin songs playing through the speakers. Stu grabbed me by the wrist hoisting me out of the chair as we swayed to the music. I forgot about every horrendous detail of the past few days. “If I’m being honest, when I’m with the two of you I feel like nothing bad can happen in the world,” I say as I look up at Stu as we spin in circles. He has that same goofy grin on his face. All of a sudden just like earlier today he hoists me over his shoulder and marches over to my bed flopping both of us down next to Billy. “Do you really feel that way, (y/n)?” Billy asks, looking over at my meek form. “Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I?” I asked looking back at him. “You’re the one that was like ‘Oh but Tatum and Sid’, remember?” Stu said, mocking my words. Propping myself up on my elbows I look down at the boy laying on my stomach, “Stu I just said I feel happy when I’m with you two, not I want you to rail the fuck out of me?!” I got a little defensive. “Jeez okay, chill out girl.” He says as he wraps his arms around me. “It could be arranged,” Billy said, still looking at me. “Hmm?” I said, turning to him. “The whole… railing you thing,” Billy said with a smirk. My face contorted into a shape I never knew possible, “Ew Billy fuck off, I already said no!” He was practically about to topple over laughing at how bright red my face was when we heard a knock. “Oh shit,” I whispered. I rushed both Stu and Billy out the window as I shouted, “One moment!” 

  Coming to the door I adjusted my clothes and combed out my hair, “Hey what’s up?” “Tatum and I were wondering if you were hungry?” Sid asked, peeking her head through the door like she was searching for something. “Hmm, need something?” I asked. “Huh, oh no, well did you have people up here?” She asked, eyes still darting around. “No, I was just listening to some music,” I shrug trying to seem as collected as possible. “...Okay just let us know if you need anything, We’re going to head out in a bit.” Sid said as she closed the door. I went straight for my window sill seeing the boys standing by the truck looking up at me. I waved down to them and they waved back before driving off. 

  As we drove down Main Street it wasn’t very hard to notice that practically nobody was around. 

Stepping out of the car Dewey said, “Sure is quiet.” 

“Yeah, look at this place, it’s like the Town that Dreaded Sunset,” Sid spoke in astonishment about our own town. 

“Mhm, we’ve got the hooded killer and all,” I said, stepping to her side. 

“Yeah, saw that movie, it’s about a killer in Texas huh?” Dewey asked messing with whatever he’s holding

“Hey girls just think, if they make a movie about you two, who’s gonna play you…” Tatum asked with a chime in her voice. 

“Ugh I shudder to think,” Sid says as she places her hand to her forehead. 

“I see you as a young Meg Ryan myself.” Dewey said with a squinting smile, hiding from what’s about to be none of the sun’s glare. 

“Oooh (y/n) it’d totally be (___ ___) for you,” Tatum said as she spun me around. 

“Hmm, lesser known but great in her field, ya know I actually like that,” I said as I put my hand to my chin and wore a silly smile, “Who knows maybe Leonardo will play one of the boys?”

“With my luck they’d cast me as Tori Spelling,” Sid said before walking off to the market. 

“Ahh I’m just gonna’ be a few minutes,” Dewey calls out to us but we didn’t really care to listen. 

Once we rounded the grocery store corner Sid asked, “Is Billy going to be there?”

“He better not be, I told Stu to keep his mouth shut.” Tatum said as she strutted down the concrete ground, “I think we can live without the endorphin rush for one night.” 

“I don’t think it’d be so bad,” I grumbled to myself. 

I pushed the cart down the back aisle as Tatum and Sid threw bags of junk food and soda into the basket. 

“Billy’s right you know, whenever he touches me, I just can’t relax,” Sid said as she looked at the drinks. 

“So you have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother’s untimely death, it’s no big deal Sid,” Tatum shrugs, “You’ll thaw out.”

“Yeah but he’s been so patient with me, ya know with all the sex stuff? How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who’s sexually anorexic?” Sid asks as she tosses some ice cream into the cart.

“Billy and his penis don’t deserve you,” Tatum said as we walked on… I really wish I didn’t hear any of this.

  As we pulled up to Stu’s house, which I can never get over the size of, Dewey told us to have fun but “Not too much fun or I’ll bust ya,” yeah sure. We got out of the car, music from the house was louder than anything I’ve ever heard. A lot more people were there than Stu had promised...intimate gathering my ass. 

“Caterer’s here!” Tatum announced to the entire house as she waved around the food we bought. 

Everyone whooped and hollered out in a cheering response. 

“Wow that’s so mature,” I said as we entered the kitchen where Stu and a couple other boys were drinking beer out of a funnel. 

“Hey just trying to get the party switch started,” Stu said as the kid to his right finished.

“My man,” Stu congratulated the greasy looking rat as they did, what looked to me like, the handshake from Predator. 

The girls and I put the food out on the island moving some bottles in the process. I accidentally ran into Stu spilling some of  the beer. “Ah shit man,” Stu exclaimed as he pulled on his shirt and stupid Hugh Hefner robe. “I’m so sorry about that, here,” I said as I handed him a towel on the counter. “Nah that’s covered in beer, Imma just throw on something else,” Stu says as he walks out of the room. I throw my head back and place my hand over my eyes. “Hey (y/n), don’t even worry about it, he has like a million of those ridiculous robes,” Tatum says as she leaned over the counter. Crossing my arms I look over at her and say, “I know but I still feel bad, I don’t want to ruin his mood.” Tatum laughed a little and rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to ruin his mood, (y/n). This is Stu we’re talking about,” Said Sid as she grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. “Yeah you’re right, hey I’ll be right back,” I said as I left the kitchen. 

  When I come back to the kitchen I notice the girls are gone. As I’m wondering where they might be I hear a loud “(y/n), over here!” for Tatum. Turning around and peeking down the hall I noticed her, Sid, and Stu on the couch. There were a lot of people surrounding them and Randy standing in front of the tv console holding two vhs tapes. “I saved you a seat,” Said Sid as she looked up at me, patting the empty space to her right. “Thanks sis,” I responded as I flopped down next to her. “What ya got there?” I looked down at her lap. “Just some movies that Randy tossed at me,” She said with a shrug. 

“How many Evil Dead?!” Randy shouted to the group around us. A bunch of kids hollered as they raised their hands. 

“How many Hellraiser?!” Randy shouted again, more kids repeated the actions from the last. 

Stu incoherently said something but Tatum’s response of, “Stop!” as she batted his finger away. 

“The Fog, Terror Train, Prom Night…” I mumbled as Sid went through the movies. 

“How come Jamie Lee Curtis is in all of these movies?” She asked, looking down at the pile with me. 

Randy knelt down beside us, “Because she’s the… Scream Queen.” he said as he put his hands together in a prayer formation. 

“Ah yes a Scream Queen, a woman who has filmed a repetition of horror movies keeping her in the frightening spotlight. A lot like a Screen Queen but scary,” I stated to my step sister. 

“With a set of lungs like that she should be,” Stu said grinning from ear to ear as he as he played with Tatum’s hands. 

A small but stupid, “Yeah” was heard fro Randy.

“Tits, see?” Tatum said as she leaned against Stu. 

The doorbell rang repeatedly causing Stu to jump out of his spot and say, “Oh I’ll get it!” as he hopped over the back of the couch. 

Or tried to at least.

He tripped and fell right onto the floor but popped  up to ask Tatum to, “Grab another beer, would ya?” 

“What am I? The beer wench?” Tatum asked as she flicked her wrist out. 

“Apparently so, my good friend, or should I say wench?” I said looking at Tatum earning me a roll of her eyes, click of her tongue and shove on the shoulder. 

Tuning into Sid and Randy’s conversation I can hear Randy say, “...Nominated,” Sid nodded and said “Yeah,” with a giggle. 

Randy went on to say, “She was nominated…” Blah blah blah, it was too loud to understand. 

Just as I was really getting comfy Stu came into the room and shouted, “You’re not going to believe who’s here! It’s that chick from Top Story!” 

“Gale Weathers!?” Randy asked.

 Meanwhile Tatum, Sid, and I turned to Stu in disbelief. “Shit,” Tatum said before she stood up. 

I could hear Dewey’s voice in the background… oh no 

“Dewey,” Tatum said as she gestured him over with her index finger, “Oh Dewey.” 

“What is she doing here?” Tate asked once her brother was finally in the room. 

“She’s with me,” Dewey said, looking like a kid who just got free ice cream, “Just checking things out,” 

I watched as Sid stood up, “Where are you going?” I asked...and was ignored.

“So you did, now leave,” Tatum peered over at Gale, “and take your media stuff with you.”

Kids were complimenting Gale left and right but all I could think of is how I wanted to punch her again...square in the nose.

I watched as Sid and Dewey talked, looking to my left I noticed that Tatum was gone. Must’ve gone to get those beers?

[amethystfallenangel]

soda (pilot kelson x reader)

You groan, swatting the fly away from the counter. It's too hot behind this counter, you've been working long hours at this gas station. Customers are rude, impatient and in a rush. And you're stuck here, forced to be professional and patient. You've even gotten bored of your phone, so you dash it onto the counter, huffing and leaning against the boxes behind you, opening one button of your t-shirt because of the unbearable midday heat.

Suddenly, you hear the rev of an engine outside and the squeak of tires. Here we go again, another frustrating customer to make this infernal wait even worse than it already is. You pay no attention to the two customers who saunter into the shop, laughing obnoxiously, but as they stumble to the counter, you grin slightly. They're quite young, around your age, if not one or two years younger. One of them has a shaved mullet and wild eyes, with a loose tank top and a stupidly wide grin. He's busy checking out the bubble-gum selection, commenting aimlessly on each flavour. His friend, however, seems unbothered, his downturned blue eyes staring at you softly. He has messy hair, the brown strands sticking out weirdly. He fiddles with the zipper of his bomber jacket, offering you a crooked smile. He speaks to you in a slurred, clumsy voice, as if completely faded.

"What soda do you recommend?"

You sigh, smiling sheepishly.

"Uh, I don't know. Fanta, maybe."

He leans over the counter, clasping his hands, lifting his bushy eyebrows and gazing at you with his puppy-like eyes.

"You like citrus drinks?"

"Yeah, sure." His attempt at making conversation is terrible, but it's cute. You glance quickly at his friend, who is still rambling on to himself about the flavours of bubble gum.

"Citrus drinks suck. I prefer Coke, or Dr Pepper."

You nod blindly.

"Uh, yeah, we have Coca Cola too." You point to the fridges where the cold drinks are.

He narrows his eyes playfully, and then ambles off curiously, promptly returning with three cans of soda.

One Coke, one Dr Pepper and... a Fanta?

You tilt your head at him, a question in your eye.

His friend, who you later learn is called Jack, interrupts, still grinning.

"That's his way of asking you to hang out with us. Oh, I'll have the strawberry bubble gum too. Thanks, sweetheart." He places a 15 dollar bill on the counter, but before you can hand him his change, he skips away, whistling, back to the car, with his Dr Pepper and his bubble gum.

You're left with the droopy eyed young man, still leaning across the counter with a playful smirk. And of the soda, obviously.

You chuckle, twirling a piece of your hair from under your cap, as you lean across the counter yourself, your shirt a little too revealing for the young man not to smirk a little wider.

"So, soda boy, what's your name?"

"Why, you wanna buy me a drink?" he teases.

You chuckle lowly, glancing at your Fanta and his Coca Cola. Good come back. He's quite witty, clearly. And playful.

"Thanks for the soda, by the way," you hum. "I'm still on duty, though. I'm not sure I can hang out with you guys. I appreciate the offer, of course."

"We're in the nearby town till tomorrow, though," he croons, edging closer to your face. You shake your head, amused.

"That so? Fine, then. I could use a night out. You guys aren't serial killers or thieves or anything, right?"

He giggles, popping open his can and taking a sip.

"Would that make us more interesting?"

"Not exactly the word I would use. You still haven't told me your name by the way."

"Pilot. I'm Pilot Kelson" He holds out his hand comically.

"Pilot? That's an interesting name." You go to shake his hand, but instead he takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on the back, looking back at you with a loud laugh.

"You're very bold, Pilot. Or maybe just completely high."

"Does it matter?"

"I don't mind. Pick me up at 6 tonight, soda boy." You grin and then place a quick kiss on his cheek. His jaw drops in a cheeky grin, and he winks as he walks away.

Your shift was boring. Two more smug faced truckers came in for a few beers, nothing special. When your shift ends, a car is already waiting outside, and as you leave the shop, jamming the door for the next person to start their shift, the car headlights are flashing wildly, Pilot and Jack waving their arms frantically out of the windows. You giggle at them being unnecessarily noisy, wondering what on earth you've gotten yourself into. Your Fanta is still in your bag.

"Hey soda boy," you joke, as you get in the back of their messy car. His friend turns his attention to you, eyeing you up and down greedily, but somewhat respectfully.

"I'm Jack, by the way," he says, his eyes sultry.

"Nice to meet you, Jack."

You drive to a lively, crowded bar. Inside, there are road stop signs and buffalo skulls as decorations. It smells strongly of whiskey, tobacco and steak pies. There are multiple coloured jukeboxes, pool tables, booths and flickering warm overhead lamps. You know this bar well, you used to come here with your old man way before he became a trucker. You smile to yourself as you lean over the sticky, heavy oak counter and greet the bartender. Jack already seems to be in conversation with a cute blonde in a leather skirt. The pair choose a bluesy rock song on one of the jukeboxes. You order drinks and Pilot follows you eagerly to a table, leaving his friend with the girl.

"So," you say, biting your lip in amusement, "why'd you ask me to accompany you guys anyways? And why are you leaving so soon?"

He chuckles lowly.

"Actually, Jack was caught screwing some guy's wife in Las Vegas. We're basically just on the run, cus' the husband was a raging psycho who sent some guys after Jack. Oh and I asked you cus' I find you hot. And funny."

You snicker, almost spitting out your drink.

"Talk about be bold."

"Yeah, Jack works as a pool cleaner, so he didn't really care about leaving his job."

"And you tagged along? That's wholesome. What do you do?"

He scoffs, seemingly lost for words, before chuckling again.

"I'm technically a drug dealer."

Your eyes go wide. Well, this sure is an eventful day.

"Oh."

He leans back into his chair, flinging an arm around the back of your chair. You can feel one of his fingers brush your back and it sends a chill down your spine. He's starts to draw lines and circles on your back with his finger.

"You don't think less of me, though, right?" he coughs, gazing at your soft features with his lazy eyes.

You turn your head to face him, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your demeanour is calm, but you're a little flushed.

"No. I mean, you guys are a bit too wild for me, but I don't think less of you, no.

He smirks, the hand on your back sliding up to the back of your neck, to gently guide your head closer to him.

You playfully poke his stomach and he pulls back, groaning in annoyance, as he rolls his head back. Then, without a thought, you climb up onto his lap, so that you are straddling him. His head shoots up eagerly, his hands almost just as quickly moving to your hips.

You cup his cheeks as your noses almost touch.

"You're an interesting guy, Pilot."

"You mean 'soda boy'?" he laughs, his hips involuntarily bucking up into yours.

You gasp slightly, widening your eyes at him.

"Okay, soda boy," you tease, "show some restraint. We're in public, remember."

He leans in close.

"Then let's go back to the motel," he grins.

Leaving the car with Jack, both of you rush out of the bar, walking with incredible speed to the grimy motel where the two troublemakers have been staying for the past two days.

You both stumble into the motel room, as you slam him into the door. His hands finds the hem of your skirt as he tugs as it. You giggle, throwing you bag onto the carpeted floor. You both almost tackle one another onto the floor, rolling around, unable to keep your hands to yourselves. He manages to pry open the rest of the buttons of your t-shirt, as his body presses flush against yours. As he is peppering your neck with hot kisses, he kicks your bag, and your unopened can of Fanta rolls out. Pilot turns around to look at it, with an amused smile, and with his head buried in your chest, he mumbles "I might have to help you finish that drink."

"I thought you didn't like citrus drinks," you manage to say, between passionate kisses.

"I wouldn't mind trying."

You tug at his messy hair and he groans, although not in annoyance this time.

This is by far the most interesting one-night stand you will ever have.

[doubledeadstudio]

So like *twirls hair* say you do meet Crux’s family. How would they all react? Would they like MC? How nervous is Crux 😭🙏🏽 (assuming MC isn’t trying to “make him worse”)

Crux would be insanely nervous, but they would just be relieved he's bringing in someone close to him in age (not some married MILF 20 years older than him) and not a serial killer or some harbinger of death probably. They're like, with your dating history, thank GODDD.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Film Studies Slashers Part One

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Words: 2839

Summary: With her revenge plot foiled by campus killers beating her to the punch, the reader investigates the killings only to find that her boyfriend is one of the murderers. This proves to be rather useful in her mission to kill Gale Weathers… until Mickey’s partner takes matters into her own hands. 

Notes: Listen… I’m just going to leave this here. Judge me if you will, but remember that this is Timothy Olyphant and the man is beautiful. Plus, Mickey is one of the best Ghostfaces. I’m obviously tweaking some things, but I’m not gonna lie, I actually hate Gale so I was okay writing the reader hating her. I’m going to have to do some tweaking with which is which Ghostface in certain scenes, but I’ll try to make it make sense. I don’t know how much of this I’ll get done, but it’s honestly a blast to write. (I also have a finished Mickey fluff so keep an eye out for that) Happy Halloween! 

-

The campus was dead. Pardon the pun, of course, but there was no other way to describe it. With everyone terrified of the killer, going out at night was out of the question for most of the student body. 

You hoped he found you. This fucker was stealing your thunder and you were pissed as hell. You had spent too many years sucking up to Sidney fucking Prescott to have your revenge stolen by some Stu Macher wannabe. 

Granted, your plan also involved some significant stabbing, but you needed to make sure that this new guy didn’t beat you to the punch. Whoever it was. 

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, you know,” a voice whispered from the dark. “You never know what kind of weirdos come out at night.” 

“Other than you, you mean?” You snarked back, leaning against the streetlamp you stood under. 

Mickey stepped into the light. A sly smile spread across his lips.

“Says the one wandering around in the dark armed with…” he reached into your satchel with one hand and ran a finger up your arm with the other, making you shiver. Mickey pulled out your notebook and flipped through the pages. 

You winced as his eyes scanned your notes on all of the killings, including pictures of all of the victims so far. 

He cocked a brow. “Maybe I should be worried for my own safety. Tell me, Y/N.” He held up your page with a picture of Sidney. “Are you the killer?” 

You snatched the notebook back. “Very funny, asshole.” 

“I’m being totally serious. That is like Serial Killer 101. You should know, Little Miss Legal Studies,” Mickey teased.

You took a step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes with a darkened gaze. 

“I guess that means you should start running, huh?”

He returned your stare, eyes bright and challenging. He put his hands on your shoulders and crashed his lips against yours. You wasted no time either, fingers lacing through his dark hair and deepening the kiss until you forgot where you were. You forgot about the killer. You forgot about Woodsboro. Most of all, you forgot about Gale Weathers. 

“What are you thinking about?” He muttered against the skin of your jaw. 

You poked his side. “Stabbing and death,” you teased. “You?”

His mouth opened in mock surprise and spoke with a sing-song tone. “Would you believe me if I said the same thing?” 

You laughed, shaking your head. 

“We are seriously fucked up, huh?” You laced your fingers through his and started walking back down the path. 

“But that’s why we work so well.” 

Mickey twirled you around, pulling you into his arms again to bury his face in your neck, playfully nipping. 

“We have to get to that stupid party,” you said, pulling away again.

He pouted. 

You rolled your eyes. “I promised Sidney I’d save her from the sorority swarm.” 

“You don’t even like her.”

“I do too.”

“No, you don’t,” he argued, tone still teasing. “And you’ve never actually told me why.” He tried to urge you back to him, but you resisted, a darkness suddenly settling over you. 

“It’s a long story,” you said. 

He held up his hands innocently. “Okay.” His head tilted in curiosity, but he didn’t press the issue. 

“We really should get going”

“Actually,” he clapped his hands together, “I will catch up with you.” You opened your mouth to protest. “I know, I know, but I promise I’ll be quick. I just have this project I have to finish up for class first.”

“Since when do you care about homework?”

“Babe,” he smiled, “it’s for film theory.”

You crossed your arms, frowning. You already weren’t looking forward to this fucking mixer and you certainly weren’t looking forward to going without your usual partner in crime. Mickey wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, kissing you in between every word. 

“I. Will. Be. Right. There,” he promised. “And then we can make fun of every shitfaced frat boy there.” 

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m getting drunk without you.” 

“Fair enough.” He kissed you one more time. “I’ll see you there.” 

He went back toward his dorm, you went to the sorority house, both of you taking different paths into the night. 

-

If one more preppy girl came up to you with her stupid smile and her stupid small talk and a stupid sweater tied around her stupid neck, you were going to use that sweater to strangle her. 

Two of them were talking to Sidney, who kept looking at you to save her. 

You gave her an encouraging thumbs up and downed the rest of your drink. You weren’t sure what was in it, but it was sure working. 

“Empire Strikes Back.” A familiarly smug voice said across the yard. “It was a better story, improved effects.”

You looked up, finding Randy talking to your oh-so-late boyfriend. Now that was a blue sweater you wanted nothing more than to rip off. 

“Not a sequel,” Randy corrected. “It was part of a trilogy. Completely planned.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and spotted you in the process. He grinned. You scowled. He crossed the yard towards you. 

“It’s been foooooreeever,” you drawled, tongue weighed down by the cheap liquor. He sat on the bench beside you. 

“The assignment took longer than I thought, baby,” Mickey said, putting your drink aside and pulling you into his lap. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your lips latched onto his neck, fingers tracing along the edge of that silly blue sweater. Mickey took your wandering hands in his. 

“Easy, tiger. What would your little Woodsboro friends think?”

“Who fucking cares?” You grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled his lips back to yours. He didn’t argue again, hands cupping your face and body pressed against yours. You seemed to stay like that for hours, barely even coming up for air. 

Everyone else disappeared. Until-

“Something happened.”

“Not. Now. Randy.” You said in between kisses, annoyance clear in your still tipsy tone. 

Randy put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder and pulled him away. The look the other boy gave him made him take a step back. Between Mickey’s glare and the news that broke up the party, his nerves were more than a little on edge. 

“Listen, sorry to interrupt your little sex party over here, but there are cop cars around the Omega Beta Zeta house. And I’ve got a really bad feeling.” He looked at you pointedly. 

Unlike your hometown buddies, you could care less about the latest killer’s hobbies. But where there was a killer, there were bloodthirsty journalists. 

You clenched your jaw. “Fine. Let’s go find out who else got sliced and diced, huh?”

Mickey helped you up, keeping his fingers laced with yours as everyone rushed toward the doors. 

Across the street, people swarmed in flashing red and blue. News vans clogged the driveway. You stopped moving. Your grip on your boyfriend’s hand tightened. 

“What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Across the street was the sobering sight of one Gale Weathers. She was heckling some other woman who had her back towards you. 

“She was here earlier today,” Halle said. “Totally blindsided Sidney by bringing Cotton Weary to campus.”

“Gale’s here with Cotton?” You exclaimed. 

First, a new killer starts mimicking the movie based on her fucking book, and now she’s harassing the survivors by bringing up the past. 

Your plan might have to happen sooner than you thought. 

“Don’t worry,” Halle added with a smirk, “Sidney already gave her a piece of her mind.” She made the motion of a punch. 

“Did you know about this?” You turned to Mickey, whose eyes were fixed across the way. 

The woman talking to Gale hurried off. 

Mickey’s thumb rubbed the back of your hand. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Well, I’m upset now!” 

His phone started buzzing. “Shit.” 

Your anger shifted into fear, gruesome memories rushing through your head. Your eyes widened as he answered. 

“M-Mickey…” You tugged on his arm anxiously. 

He listened to the voice on the other side and mouthed “It’s fine.” He brought your hand to his lips as another reassurance. 

“I have to take this, I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes darted between you and the crowd. “Stay here.”

 Mickey stepped away, leaving you with the others to watch the chaos at the other sorority house. That’s when you saw that familiar head of chunky highlights heading towards you. 

“Fucking bitch,” you muttered to yourself and headed back to the Delta Lambda Zeta house. With Derek the guard dog at the front door, you decided to go around back to avoid any real interaction with Sidney’s boyfriend. Pitying looks was the last thing you needed from the frat prince. 

You didn’t see the flash of black until it overtook you.  

And, suddenly, it all came back. 

You saw the face of Billy Loomis as you ripped off the stupid, elongated white mask. He smirked down at you. 

“I always had a bit of a hard-on for you, Y/N,” he sneered, slowly pushing the knife into your side. He put a hand over your mouth to silence your screams. “I mean, Syd’s great and all but, the principal's daughter?” He chuckled. “I mean, it sounds like something out of a movie.” 

He took out the knife and started again. 

You stared up at that same mask as it hovered over you, arm raised with the same curved knife that almost killed you. 

“Not this time you sonofabitch,” you spat and used all of your strength to bring your knee up into your attacker’s stomach. 

They cried out and fell to the grass beside you, but not before they got a solid swipe at your side, sliding through your shirt down to the skin. A familiar, hot sting radiated from the spot and you screamed. You screamed like hell.

“Mickey!” One hand clawed at the ground to pull you away, the other clamped over your now bleeding wound. “Derek! Mickey! Anybody! Help me!” 

“Y/N?” Sydney’s voice called from inside the house. 

Ghostface whipped around at the sound. 

“Syd, run!” You shrieked. 

A flash of blue sweater came around the corner just as a large black boot stomped the side of your head. Memories and darkness took over, all speaking with the altered voice of your nightmares.

-

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He wasn’t supposed to care. But with every stirring motion, the traitor in his chest jumped. 

Your eyes fluttered open and Mickey let out a sigh of relief. 

“There she is,” he smiled. “I was starting to wonder if this was going to turn into a The Dead Zone situation.”

“Well, I don’t know, do I have any powers?” You asked wearily, looking around at your surroundings. You were in the emergency room. Guess they figured your injuries weren’t too serious to take you to surgery. You felt at the bandage on your side, letting the haze in your head clear before you sat up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You swung your legs over the side of the hospital bed and started to stand, ignoring every sore limb telling you not to. 

“Hey, I don’t think you're supposed to do that, babe,” Mickey said, putting a hand out to stop you.

“I’m not staying here so everyone can gawk at me like a zoo animal, Mickey,” you snapped. “Especially when Gale fucking Weathers is in town.” 

“I won’t let her anywhere near you.”

Your eyes blazed. “I don’t want your help.” 

Something flashed in his eyes. Something you’d never seen before. Something that made you sit down again. 

But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Mickey looked at the ground. 

“I’m going to go check on Derek. He got cut up by the guy that attacked Sidney.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think she’s probably more freaked out than he is, so I should probably talk to her too.”

He left you in the hospital room feeling like a total bitch. 

-

Mickey stretched his sore limbs as he stepped into the unlocked apartment. He should really remind you to lock that. There were psychos running around. 

“Y/N?” He called into the dark. “Baby, you here?” 

“In here,” you spoke through a gasp. 

Mickey dropped his bag at the foot of the bed, looking at the light pooling out of the ajar bathroom door. He could just see your frame standing in front of the mirror. Your shirt was off and your fingers were peeling up the bandage that the hospital put on the gash in your side. 

“Hey, I don’t think you should be doing that-” Mickey started, pushing the door open all the way. 

He stopped, seeing the reflection of your tear-filled eyes looking back at him. 

You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned around to face him, displaying your new wound, along with marks of old ones. Three long, jagged lines along your torso. 

He imagined Billy sticking a knife in you and unconsciously clenched his fists. 

“It brought it all back,” you said through gritted teeth. “I promised myself I would never be that scared again and today I felt like that weak, pathetic high school girl again.” You ran your fingers over the scars, flinching as you touched the angry, red stitched-up cut on your side. “All because of her.”

Mickey’s brows drew together. 

You took a breath and jutted out your chin. “Gale Fucking Weathers.” 

“Wait.” He ran a hand down his face, almost laughing. “You just got stabbed and curb-stomped by a guy dressed in the same outfit that someone who stabbed you- and almost killed you- was wearing and you’re freaked out about a journalist.” 

“I’ve looked killers in the eye before, baby,” you snapped. “But Gale Weathers is a goddamn necromancer. She brought Billy Loomis and Stu Macher back from the dead and now they’re going to outlive all of us.”

“Babe-” He started to reach out to you, but you pushed past him. 

“And we can’t forget about Sidney,” you exclaimed. “Poor, perfect Sidney, the tragic hero of the story. It’s all about her.” You paced back and forth, anger boiling out any soreness you might still have felt. “It’s like nobody else made it out. Randy’s a plot device, Dewey is a joke, and me-” You whipped around with eyes on fire. “I’m not even in it!” You picked up one of Mickey’s shoes, knocking over his backpack, and threw it at a picture on your wall. A photo from high school- with you, Sidney, and Tatum. 

Mickey hurried toward you and grabbed your wrist in each hand. 

“She wrote me out of my life.” You fought against him, refusing to let him see you cry, but his grip was too strong. “That bitch wrote me out of my own life and now she’s back to do it all over again.” 

“We won’t let her,” Mickey said, his own rage starting to surface. He tightened his hold so much it almost hurt. “Gale Weathers is just another hack who will get what’s coming to her and someone else will turn it into just another story.” He let go of your wrists and moved his hands to your face. “I promise, baby.” 

His dark eyes held that same look you saw in the hospital. It should have scared you. Instead, it pushed you into him, crashing your lips against his and pulling his body against yours despite the slight pain in your side. Maybe you just needed to put all of your roiling energy to good use. And Mickey was more than happy to help. 

-

Mickey got in the shower with a head clouded full of feelings he didn’t know what to do with. He wanted to kill that reporter bitch- not because it would be the kind of poetic justice perfect for his plan, but because she had hurt you. Everything was getting too complicated. 

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went back to your bedroom, finding you at the foot of the bed, hunched over and holding something in your hand. 

“I thought you were too tired to move,” he teased. “But if you’re up for another round, then I am-”

He stopped as you stood. 

The cloak spilled out of the backpack. The knife glinted at your feet. The Ghostface mask gaped back at him in your hands.

Mickey swallowed. “I can explain that.”

You walked towards him, eyes wide and chin held high. Your gaze burned a hole in his panicking heart. Mickey gritted his teeth. He wasn’t supposed to panic. He wasn’t supposed to feel. 

You shoved the mask against his chest. 

“Y/N…” He searched for the words, more for himself than for you. 

You spoke firmly and coolly, like reading a movie line. “I want in.”