#Lake Placid Jim Bickerman

[slashingdisneypasta]

Would you Fuck your Clone?

'Rarin-To-Fuck' Buck: I don't want to fuck my clone because that would be gay sex, and I'm not gay.

Blackie: I'm not gay either, but I would actually totally fuck my clone.

Raymond Beaumont: I am gay- but I still don't want to fuck my clone, that's gross and weird.

Erik Destler: I don't want to fuck my clone because my self loathing is THAT strong.

Eli Giles: I'd totally fuck my clone because I want to know if I'm good in bed

Jim Bickerman: I'd fuck my clone because who would know better how to fuck ME than ME?

Stuart Lloyd: I'd totally do all sorts of weird things to my clone that I'd be embarrassed to ask someone else to do.

Smiley: To be honest, fucking my clown has always been my fantasy~~~~~

Inkubus: Its basically the same as masturbating, right? So no big deal.

Dr Andover: Its not the same as masturbating; It'd be like having sex with your twin. Wrong and bad.

Ranger+Doc Halloran: I would not have sex with my clone because what if my clone is evil??

Freddy Krueger: Not only would I have sex with my clone- I'd probably make a bunch of clones and just get it on with all of them at once because that's how pro clone-fucking I am.

Mayor Buckman: ...

Mayor Buckman: You men are nasty and I'm, frankly, a little concerned.

[the-leech-lord]

Someone else finish this

My brain stopped working

[slxsherwriter]

You and I May Never Get This Right

Fandom: Lake Placid

Pairing: Jim Bickerman x reader

Word count: 4,479

Warning: Hospitalization, mention of serious injuries (loss of limbs), ptsd, panic attacks, age gap relationships,

Author's Note: Don't hate me for how I ended this. There may be more in the future. As always, not beta read. Mistakes are mine. Likes are always appreciated, but reblogs and comments are cherished and feed the brain.

Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta & @tinalbion

The ringing of the phone interrupted the quiet peace. The sound was wholly unexpected and caused you to jolt. The mindless haze that you had fallen in going through the familiar motions of fishing. After the hellish week that you had at work, a trip out into the woods for a few days on your own consisting of fishing and camping had been just what you needed. You had thought for sure that you wouldn't have service out here but apparently, that had been a mistake. 

There was an instance where you debated ignoring it entirely. If it was your place of employment, you might just throw the phone into the pond. Despite how much it would cost to replace. Something in your gut told you that you had to pick it up. Groaning, you pushed up from your chair, carefully setting aside your fishing pole so it didn't end up in the water if something did bite in the absence, and moved back towards your camp and your tent. 

Rummaging around, it had stopped ringing only to start up again. Whoever was calling clearly needed to speak with you. Finally, you freed the object from the bag but didn't recognize the number at all. No business was coming up. 

“Hello?” Whoever was on the other end of the line sounded professional. One of those scripted sorts of voices. They wanted to confirm that you were you before saying anything else. Frowning, you did as asked and confirmed who you were before more information came. It was a hospital calling about James Bickerman. There had been some sort of incident? Something about him being brought to the hospital in bad shape and there needing to be someone there that could make decisions. Your number was the only thing listed. 

“Um, uh, yeah. Yeah. I gotta grab a flight. I can be there within the day, though, hopefully no more than a few hours, but I don't know when I'll be able to get a flight out. Did you need me to do anything before that? I will have my phone on me the entire time.” They asked about blood transfusions and life-saving measures such as intubation and CPR. Jesus Christ, what the hell had Jim managed to get into? 

Jim Bickerman was a name that you hadn't heard in several long years. He had been your older brother's best friend. You had been the accident, with your brother close to twenty-five years older than you. The two were as thick as thieves, always getting into trouble and mischief. By the time that you were a teenager, you were sucked into that sort of trouble. With a smaller stature, you could slip into places that they couldn't. An innocent face that most people believed when you lied for them. A look out that could actually be trusted to do the job. You fit all those sort of roles for them. Of course, it was cliche, but you had a crush on the man. Not that you had expected anything to come to fruition in regards to it, keeping the fact to yourself the best that you could. A drunken night in your mid twenties resulted in a closeness that had developed further into what could have been considered a relationship. Was your brother thrilled with it? He went back and forth. He liked the fact that he knew the man that you were with, but at the same time, he was a bit freaked out and disturbed that it was his best friend. 

Things had been really good for quite a while. There were a few bumps in the road in terms of getting in trouble with the law, but nothing that major or that you couldn't get over. After all, while you were in constant mischief and trouble, it wasn't the major sort that would see any of you going away to prison for any sort of extended time. All the local bars and police officers knew you all by first name.

Life had a way of happening, though. While you had all come from relatively nothing, being poor and scraping and scrapping in order to get by, Jim had this sort of intense and overwhelming drive for money. Enough so that it started to cause the two of you to clash every now and then. The passing of your mother and then followed by your brother in seemingly rapid succession had seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. You had to get out of Maine, get away from the mess that had taken over your life. The fact hadn't been taken well by Jim, who refused to leave. He was supposed to be getting the cabin that he had grown up in. The cabin was something that he was not willing to give up on. Things had quickly devolved from there for you both, to the point that it made it easy to walk away. Well, easier than it had been at first. Even if you had hoped something more would have come from the man. It had hurt and had been hard, even if his behavior made the decision more justified. He has tried to get you to stay but the cabin had been more important.

That had been close to ten years ago. A part of your life that you had left in the past. A fresh start had done wonders for you. Trouble with the law had vanished from your life. You had gotten a stable job, one that you didn't exactly enjoy, but it paid the bills well enough and allowed you the ability to have weekends to yourself. That allowed plenty of fishing and camping trips, with the occasional interruption. 

Now, that peace had been thoroughly shattered. You had never expected for Jim to still have your name down as an emergency contact. That heavy feeling that had invaded your chest during that first call remained, growing worse the longer things went on. A few more phone calls came from the doctors. Assurance that he was alive, but it seemed like he needed multiple surgeries, and they had to start to be able to save what they could. 

When the plane landed, you felt fully sick to your stomach. Renting a car felt like it took far too long. The familiar paths hadn't changed all that much since you had been awhile. Land a little more developed here and there, but that was barely acknowledged. Arriving at the hospital, your only thought was laying eyes on Jim. The picture that had been painted had not been pretty, and there was only so much that could be done to brace yourself for it. Sitting behind the wheel, finally parked at the hospital, your hands shook, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Could you do this again? Was it going to be a repeat of your brother all over? Sweat trickled down your neck, and your vision blurred for a moment. Fumbling for the handle of the door, you managed to throw it open, leaning out and gasping. Thankfully, no one was around to see the near breakdown. 

It took several long minutes for you to be able to calm down and regain control of your breathing so it didn't seem like you had run here instead of drove. Ending up in a bed next to Jim wouldn't do any good for either of you. Counting each breath, inhaling for a few seconds, holding, and then exhaling for the same amount of time. 

Feeling just slightly more put together, you headed inside. The lady at the desk was hardly helpful, but the security guard was someone that you recognized. A man that you had gone to school with, and he was kind enough to lead you to the right floor, where the doctors had taken over from there. Now that you were there in person, you were able to get far more information than what they had provided over the phone. The accident? A crocodile attack. Jim had lost his left arm and his left leg. There had been internal bleeding that had been difficult to stop, a laceration to his liver the cause. His left eye had been damaged to the point that it had to be removed, a rock having lodged into the orbital socket as a result of the attack. 

He had just gotten out of surgery by the time that you had managed to get through. They didn't expect him to wake for several hours, if that. With the blood loss, trauma, and surgery, he was alive, but that didn't guarantee anything. While you weren't prepared to go to the room, there was little choice in the matter. No one would make you, but you were there and had to go see him. 

The sight of the man in the bed caused your knees to go weak. The nurse that had brought you to the room attempted to soothe you by placing a hand on your back. 

“It's okay.” No. No, it wasn't. The body in the bed was almost unrecognizable. Pale, bandaged, and hooked up to a load of machines. Hell, his face looked a little sunken in even. He hardly looked like the Jim you knew. Even if that Jim was several years younger than the Jim in the bed. Crossing your arms to give your fingers something to grasp, you moved forward and took a seat in the chair beside the bed. 

“Thank you.” A brief utterance to the nurse. The only other noise in the room was the beat of the heart rate monitor and the hiss of the supplemental oxygen that they had him on. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the rush of blood in your ears, trying to grasp onto the machine generated beep. Steady. It wasn't too fast or too slow. It helped give you something to focus on and bring yourself down. If you weren't so worried at the moment, you would have been cursing up a storm and yelling at him. Unconsciously or not. They said that people in comas and such could hear what was being said to them after all. For now, though, all you could do was sit there and let the worry eat you alive. The steady rise and fall of his chest, on his own without mechanical intervention, wasn't enough to ease it. 

*****************

At some point, you must have nodded off, sleep pulling you under without warning. You remembered staring off out the window while hoping Jim would wake up. The next thing you knew, you were cracking your eyes open against the bright light of the morning and a nurse standing over the bed, doing a vitals check. 

“The least ya can do for an old man is get him a drink.” His voice was rough, but there was no mistaking it for anyone else. He was alive and awake. 

“The last thing you need right now is a drink, you old bastard,” you replied before the nurse could, standing up out of the seat and shifting to the edge of the bed. Jim's eye wandered the room for a moment before finally settling on you. It took a second for the light of recognition to appear, and somehow, he managed a smile. 

“Well, hey there, dumpling.” You couldn't help the roll of your eyes at the pet name. But right then, there would be no calling him out on it. “What are you doing here?” It was actually a viable question. His faculties, what little he started with, seemed to be intact. Which was a good sign. A low sigh escaped from you, and his brow furrowed. 

“Apparently, I'm still listed as your emergency contact. And since you went off on some suicide mission, I got the call.” A pause. Swallow. Stay composed. Don't let him know how deeply affected you were by this. “And as much as I wanted to stay fishing, I couldn't let your dumb ass die.” Something indescribable passed over his face. Nothing that you could place. All before that familiar smirk had appeared once more. 

“Maybe I should get myself chewed on a little more often if it's gonna be bringing you around.” The nurse excused herself, giving you two a little time. Even if you tried desperately to keep her presence in the room for the sake of your sanity. Being alone with the man and this out of control of your emotions was not a good combination. 

“You're an absolute ass. I see that a near death experience hasn't changed that.”

“Aww, come on. Ya gotta be nice to me, dumpling. I'm a cripple now.” The tease about his condition fell just a little flat. At least he seemed to be taking it in stride. You weren't sure you would be able to manage even snark if you were lying in bed like that. The comment managed to bring a smile, one that you hadn't thought would come. Maybe it was tinged with relief that he was himself and that familiarity felt good under the circumstances. You hadn't had this chance with your brother. 

“Cripple or not, you're still a grumpy bastard.” He has the audacity to wink playfully or make the attempt, and there was no stifling the small laugh that just broadened his own smile. Jim would always be Jim. And as much as you had tried to put it all behind you, you had missed the man. His hand had found yours in those quiet seconds and gave it a small squeeze. Not begrudging him the comfort, if that was what he needed, you returned the gesture and kept your fingers laced with his. 

“Maybe so, but it never bothered ya before. If anything, think it's what attracted ya in the first place.” Pulling your chair closer, you shook your head. Might as well get settled in since it was going to be a bit before you got out of here. You couldn't bring yourself to be annoyed about the fact either. He was alive and the relief that came with that fact was near overwhelming. 

*****************

“For fuck sakes….” The phrase might as well have been tattooed on you somewhere with how often it was uttered up into the air. As if some twisted prayer. A desperate cry for strength to tolerate the horrible patient that was before you. 

“Ah, just in time. Come on over here and help me with this, sweetheart.” 

“Jim….” You paused and took a slow breath. How the nurses hadn't entirely lost it on him was beyond comprehension. Or maybe they were just drawing straws on rotation to see who was dealing with him next. “Get your ass back in bed! You aren't going anywhere.”

“Aww, come on. You don't have to be like that. We’re just going on a short walk.” He used we, as in plural, including you in whatever plan he had in mind. “Can't stare at these walls anymore. And like hell I'm being pushed around in that chair.” The words stirred up a sense of sympathy. He couldn't be blamed for going stir crazy stuck in the room for three weeks now while healing and starting rehab. His prosthetics had been in early in the week, and while he was still learning to walk with the new leg, he wasn't keen on waiting before pushing himself, it seemed. 

Jim was hopping on his one leg, trying to get the pants that you had brought him in a change of clothes at the beginning of the week, settled on his waist. 

“I know you are going stir crazy. Hell, I am at this point just visiting you, and I get to leave. But you can't be pushing yourself too much, or you are just going to be stuck here longer than necessary. Such a thing as setting back your own recovery.”

“Sweetheart, I'm fixing to jump out that window if I don't get out of this room for something other than rehab. So, you can help me or head out so you don't get in trouble.” Groaning, you glanced towards the ceiling, counting back from ten before moving forward to help him finish getting dressed. The closeness allowed him to get a few cheeky touches in, all under the guise of keeping his balance and such. You knew better but were unbothered by it. Being here had brought all those feelings right back to the surface and damn it if you still didn't love the man. 

“Since you can't be trusted to keep yourself in one piece or not to do something foolish, guess I'm stuck helping you. See, this is how I ended up in trouble when we were younger. All your damn fault.” He laughed. 

“Way I remember it you were all too eager to help.” How could this man still make you feel like a teenager with a silly crush. 

“Young, impressionable, and dumb. That's what I'm calling it.” You gave him a little push to get him back on the bed, causing him to chuckle, all before helping him make sure the prosthetic was in place. Him hopping around would attract too much attention. You winced at the still raw looking around. The surgeons had done a fantastic job. “You sure? This still looks like it's not gonna feel great, Jim.”

“Oh, I'm more than sure.” You nodded and got him settled. He kept an arm around your shoulders, both as an excuse to hold you and an extra support as he moved along. 

“Come on then, let's get you moving a bit. We are only going for a short walk, okay? Then it's back in bed.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He laughed, and you rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. Glancing out into the hall, none of the nurses seemed to be paying attention. A few tentative steps were taken before you both realized no one was going to stop you. “You uh, you didn't bring anything to drink this time, didcha?” The man was impossible. But, he had broken you down with the requests. 

“Just keep walking for a bit here, okay.”

“Ya did. Knew I could count on you.”

“As if that would ever change?” The comment slipped before you could think about it. Out in the open now, and he would take it as he pleased. Getting into the elevator, you hit the button to lead you down to the cafeteria. There was a coffee shop close to it where you could at least get a decent dose of caffeine. He could mix his alcohol with it to hide it from the nurses. The minimal amount that you had gotten in. 

“Easy there, buttercup. Give me a second.” The strain to the words told you that he was hurting more than he let on, and you instantly pulled to a stop, allowing him to lean against the wall and gain his breath back. 

“Better than I thought we would do, actually. Let's get you to the chairs up there, and I'll get us some coffee.” He nodded, giving it another minute before pushing himself off of the wall and bracing himself further against you. It was no more than twenty feet. Once he was settled into the chair, you moved off to get the promised coffee. 

Since you couldn't juggle both coffees and get the alcohol into his, you had to settle for carrying both of them back and plopping down into the seat beside him. 

“Here, hold mine for a second…” You passed him the cup that you knew for a fact was yours before reaching into the pocket of your jacket and pulling out a small flask. One that Jim had actually gifted you, though that wasn't anywhere near the forefront of your mind. 

“That the one I got you for your twenty-first?” The question didn't register at first as you poured a little bit of the liquor into the cup before a hum came from him, attempting to catch your attention. 

“I'm sorry, what?” You looked up as you finished, putting the cap back on the small flask and taking your coffee back, holding his out to him. He repeated the question, causing you to blink for a second and look down at the pocket that you had safely tucked the flask in. “Uh, yeah, yeah, it is.” A sound came from him, something that you couldn’t entirely identify and didn't really want to right then as he decided to take a sip of his drink instead. 

Once the cups were empty and the coffee was finished, you had felt that he had been out of his room long enough. The nurses were going to ream you for having him out this long, but it had helped him and would hopefully keep him feeling a little less ornery for the next day or so. 

“All right, let's get you back to your room.” The walk was a little slower, with him feeling the effects of the walk on his still healing body. It was wholly unsurprising if anyone were to ask your opinion. Getting him back to bed, he was wincing and unable to hide it. It made you feel just a bit bad, though you knew that he would say it was worth it. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, so softly that you almost missed it. His eyes were closed as he reclined back in the bed, clearly spent from the small outing. Smiling to yourself, you settled down in the chair, deciding to spend the rest of the afternoon with the man, even if he slept through it. 

***************************************

“Ya know….” Jim was drawing out his words, which meant that he was waiting for you to turn your attention in his direction. Some things never changed. You finally turned to look at him after stuffing the last shirt into the bag. “You don't have to leave.” He was leaning against the doorframe, not quite looking at you. This had the beginnings of a conversation that you really didn't want to have. It hadn't gone well for you before. 

“I've used up all my time off. And then some. I have to get back before I don't have a job to go back to. You're home, Jim. Able to be independent. You are back on your feet and don't need me around anymore.” You almost said that you didn't have a reason to stay. Because technically, it was true. You didn't have a reason to stay. Your feelings weren't enough. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself in hopes of making this entire thing easier. It hadn't really worked. That ache that had happened when you had left the first time all those years ago was just as strong now as it had been then. It made the most sense to leave. Just as it had back then. You had a nice little life set up for yourself. Being here? Well, it would be a hard decision.

“You don’t have to go. You're back here. It’s where you should be.” He was going to make this difficult. Apparently, time did not heal all wounds. He was standing in the doorway and refusing to move out of the way. Maybe this whole incident had given him a slightly new perspective on life. “I know you don't want to go back either. So, why are you going to do what you don't want to do? Not like you had ever done something you didn't want to do before, Why with this?” There wasn’t a good answer there. Because everything felt far too convoluted and messy. There were reasons to stay and reasons to leave. His gaze had finally turned to you and felt heavy, practically pinning you in your place. 

“Because it is not a smart idea, Jim. Staying around. It's better for me to leave.”

“That's bullshit. You can't bullshit a bullshitter, dumpling.” Yeah, that was hard to argue with. 

“Jim, please can we not…” He huffed, though he had clearly decided that he wasn't going to let go of this issue. If there was one thing that Jim Bickerman could be called without a doubt, it was stubborn. 

“You coulda left my old ass to die. But you didn't. You still came out and stayed. You coulda made those decisions and left.” He was right. Why did he have to be right? It made any argument that you made to leave that much more difficult. Slowly, his lips turned upwards slightly, as if he knew he had won this part of the argument. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. 

“What do you want me to say?” He had worked around every single phrase besides I want you to stay the first time that you had left. It was his turn to show his frustrations over the entire thing. His hand and hook waved in the air for a moment, though the words didn't come. 

“I want you to say that I'm right and that you want to stay.” He wasn't going to let this go. Could you say that you didn't want to? Could you say that you wanted to? The words were stuck in your throat. Why did he have to make this so damn difficult? The treacherous voice in the back of your mind whispered that it wasn't him that was making it difficult. He had tried the first time around, maybe not as hard as you had hoped somewhere deep within, but he had certainly tried. This was him trying again. Maybe you had foolishly hoped he had moved on, that things had changed. Yet, it was the same scenario all over again. Except, it felt more serious than it had last time. 

Looking at him should have reminded you why you decided it was better to distance yourself. He made stupid decisions in chasing after money and whatever big payday that he thought was next. But Jim was loyal and underneath it all there was some part of him that was good-hearted. Even if it took a few layers to get through. Others often didn't get to see it. 

You weren't able to get a response out, apparently taking too long for his liking. Because the next thing you knew, he was stepping forward, invading your space like he used to do all those years ago. Guess the old man wasn't feeling all that old at that moment. No words came. Instead, he hooked a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. One last desperate attempt to get you to agree to stay. 

“Say you want to stay.” The words came out far softer this time, almost a plea. Almost. 

“Jim…” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, decision made. 

[thymelessink]

Robert Englund characters that are not Freddy pt. 3

Aka more cheesy fanart

[marinerainbow]

I hope you dont mind me bothering you about Jim 😅😅 I have a thought and I have to share!! XD

Headcanon- the nurses working in the emergency room all know him. Why?? Because he is always there. Like, he should get frequent emergency points or a card with the words 'Every five visits your medical treatment is free!' on it XD

Because he doesn't just put his life on the line where crocodiles are concerned, no no. Crazy old nutbag thinks he's invincible (Which is a possibility honestly). Some dumb things he has done:

Put Christmas lights up in rainy, snowy, stormy weather causing him to get electrocuted (This is seasonal occurrence. He has burns)

Attempted to step from his roof to the next door neighbours roof. Its close, and they wouldn't shut up so he wanted to give them a scare. Well... he misjudged the distance. (Was hobbling around with crutches for a long time)

Climbed onto the roof to try and trap a racoon (Needed to get his rabies shot+a sling)

Tried cultivating a bush of some very dangerous plant (To sell for Big Bucks, obviously), saying he'll be fine as long as he keeps his mask on and doesn't breath it in!... but took the mask off to talk to a neighbour who was asking what the hell he's doing. (Poison control had a field day)

etc

His neighbours are also quite familiar with the local emergency services operator XD Constantly calling them like 'Hi Ted. How're your studies?... uhuh... oh good... yeah... yeah... Oh, yeah, its Jim. See you in 10' and then just going back inside Jim can waive them down himself, from the ground. His arm is fine.

Oh you don't need to worry at all!! I love it when you get excited about your favorite characters, and I'm more than happy to see your thoughts/headcannons/imagines/whatever about them! (This applies to everyone else too ^^)

And all of this? All of this is canon. No I will not take any other answer. No one can beat perfection XD

All this AND THEN SOME has happened. Jim is the ultimate menace; being a chaotic little shit not just to others but to himself XD

Also yes. He is immortal. He survived getting mauled by one of those alligators, and every other accident he's gotten himself into thus far. At this rate, Jim is an immortal cryptid in his own right.

[illadvisedselfships]

Hey! I just want a clean space to do my messy self shipping, and this is it.

F/O List (Current):

💚 Cruella De Vil (101 Dalmatians, 1996)

💚 Doc Hudson + the Sheriff (Cars)

💚 Jim Bickerman (Lake Placid Final Chapter-Lake Placid VS Anaconda)

💚 Mr Snake (The Bad Guys 2022)

💚 Otis B Driftwood (Rob Zombie's Devils Rejects Trilogy)

💚 Professor Aaron Callaghan (Legally Blonde; The Musical 2007)

F/O List (Past but they always make come backs 😅):

💚 Ambrose Cornell and Biker Guy (The Mist, 2007)

💚 Freddy Krueger (A Nightmare on Elm Street 1984)

💚 Greasy Weasel (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, 1988)

💚 Jafar (Aladdin, 1992)

💚 Offenderman (Creepypasta)

💚 Peter Hayes (Divergent Movies & Books)

💚 Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003-2006)

Comfort Characters:

💚 Hades (Hercules 1997)

💚 Slenderman (Creepypasta)

💚 Dale Acton & Wayne Jackson (Good Day For It 2011)

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Reactions

Topic: You move into an apartment in a dodgy neighbourhood.

Characters Included: (Rarin'-to-Fuck) Buck, Dr Peter Andover, Erik Destler, Freddy Krueger, Bonus!Jason Voorhees, Ian Essko, Bonus!Madame Blavatski, Inkubus, Jim Bickerman, Bonus!Reba, Doom Room's MC, Minister Kratski, Stuart Lloyd, Wayne Jackson, Bonus!Norman Tyrus and Bonus!Dale Acton.

Tagging: @ghouletka , @grav3yardgirl , @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @thecourtofgraywaves , @yesthetrashbin and @your-mxnd-is-mxne .

Rarin'-To-Fuck Buck: *Stays right by the window where he can see his car so it doesn't get stolen* "Uh... nice place... " (You: Thank you! I was so jazzed to find it on the market!, it has a dishwasher and everythin- ) "I was kidding Y/N this place is a fucken dump. Lets go- "

Dr Peter Andover: "... no." (You: What. But- ) "We have rooms at the clinic, you can stay there." (You: I cant live at the clinic- ) "Ohhh yes you can."

Erik Destler: "Oh, this is near to the brothel I used to- Ehem. I mean, Y/N this is a very nice, uh... home... you found, here... " || He wants to sweep you away but also he doesn't want you questioning him on that first bit XD So I guess he's just gonna have to stalk you all the time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ With love. For your safety.

Freddy Krueger: "You couldn't find an actual house?? Oh, and wouldja look at that! Guys with guns. *Waiving out the window* Hey fellas- " (You: Newsflash Fred its not the 60's anymore old man and you cant just b u y a h o u s e !! And put your hand down- )

Jason Voorhees: *Nope. No- Jason will not let you stay here XD He takes one look around, picks you up, and leaves.*

Ian Essko: "What filthy-fucking-hell... Oh! Wait wait wait- " (You: Don't you dare take out that black light Ian.) "What? Afraid of what you'll find in this house of horror!??"

Madame Blavatski: "Oh- this is nice. Lovely. I lived in a home just like this in my stripping days in Russia! Very lovely, very good. And you have drug dealers just two doors down, which is convenient. I already visited, they're very nice boys, and I bought you welcome-to-area 'blow'- da? They even gave discount!" *head pats*

Inkubus: *He's very calm, listening to you talk about it and show him all around, until the very end* "Y/N, love, may I ask something of you right now?" (You: Oh- sure? ^^) "Wonderful. Uh, don't be here between eleven and 3 tomorrow." (You: Why?- ) "Mmm, no particular reason... do you think these beams are good and flammable?" || If it is not clear- the man is going to burn your apartment building down so you don't live here, anymore.

Jim Bickerman: *He's been walking around peering out the windows shaking his head. When he finally looks at you waiting for his thoughts, he flashes a big smile.* "We're going gun shopping." (You: Oh no we are NOT- )

Reba: (You: So! ^^ What do you think?) "... well I noticed the police station a block away, I liked that feature."

The Doom Room's MC: "Well its better then my place, at least."

Minister Kratski: *not getting outta the limo*

Stuart Lloyd: "Y/N I saw some hooligans just down the street with switchblades. I don't think this area is safe." (You: Oh don't worry, I have a plan! ^^) "*Genuinely relieved* oh, great. Wh- what is it?" (You: I got these really big ass boots from the charity store- and I'm going to keep them just outside my door so everyone walking by thinks a lumberjack lives here!) "... ... Y/N- "

Wayne Jackson: *He's very quiet. Just wandering in and out of rooms, lookin' around* (You: ... Wayne, is everything okay?) "... preeetty sure I lived here in the 70's. Cant be sure, though." (You: Oh- ) *Pulls an open door away from a wall* "Ah! I did! Heheh, I made that w in bullet holes."

Norman Tyrus: "... no." (You: Norman- ) "Nope." (You: Not another place, Norman- ) "You're moving. You're not staying here." (You: I'm gonna stop showing you my new places.) "How about ya just find a place that doesn't have bullet holes in the front fucken door?" Dale Acton: "OH!!! I know those guys upstairs, I used to buy coke from them a couple years back! Until a deal fell through at least... hey, don't tell 'em you're with me. You'll be fine. We probably shouldn't be seen together, though, so uh... bye babe- "

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"As if you got the stones to pull that trigger, boy... "

Don’t touch me!

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♤♡◇ Thinking about those creeps who bring emotional levity and flexible ethics to the table, again! ♡♧◇

♡♤◇ Whether they lean more into the good side or the bad, they're always the best character in my opinion XD ◇♤♡

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So I headcanon that Jim was raised in Kentucky (Partly because that is how REnglund described him) and Delores+Bernie only moved up to the cabin in Maine after he moved out. Maybe for retirement.

And I just realised Kentucky- at least the North of it- is considered Appalachia.

You bet your ass I now HC that's where they lived and Jim, Delores, Bernie, Sadie, Nathan and Susan are all very familiar with that sentiment 'if you're in the woods at night and you hear something- no you didn't.'

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Robert Englund characters in the 2010's.

Ray Buxley, Bones 2010

Dr Stanley Wheelwright, Chuck 2011

Wayne Anthony Jackson, Good Day For It 2011

Hezekiah Confab, Moleman of Belmont Avenue, 2011

Inkubus, Inkubus 2011

Jim Bickerman, Lake Placid Final Chapter 2012 and Vs Anaconda 2015

Stuart Lloyd, The Last Showing 2014

Dr Peter Andover, Fear Clinic 2014

Bonus: Freddy Krueger in The Goldbergs 2018

You agree. You reblog now.

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Jim Bickerman, Lake Placid; Final Chapter (2012).

At this point I'm running out of Jim moments to gif, whoops 😅😅

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Jim Bickerman x Reader || Drabble

Plot: Reba gives you a dare but it doesn't turn out the way she thought it would 😅

Warnings: I can't think of any 🤔

Reba's POV

"We are not playing this... "

"We are playing this."

Y/N gives me a bemused look, which is fair because the words truth or dare just came out of my mouth sober for the first time since highschool, before she sighs and nods. "Okay... " She asked me for something to cure the boredom that was ruining our friday night, and I did. She can't really argue, can she? With a shrug, she takes a sip of her drink. "Fine. Do me first."

"Alright. Truth or Dare."

She squints suspiciously at me, but acts brave. "... Dare."

Uhuh, okay. I nod and take a slow sip of my beer; thinking. What's a good one... "Uhh... Oh, there." Great. I gesture towards the bar. "Hit on Jimmy."

The swallow of drink that Y/N had under progress chokes her suddenly, almost coming back out of her if it weren't for her freezing up and forcing it down. "-Ugh. Shit. What???"

A grin flickers across my face at her adorable reaction. "You heard me, go on. Make an old man's day. Hey, I'm sure your secret boyfriend wont mind." At the mention of the guy she's been seeing, and refusing to talk about, a ln amused grin slips across her face. "He's not, uh... the jealous type, is he?" She shakes her head at the wink I give her, a bemused smirk on her lips.

"I- " She looks to Bickerman, the familiar tipsy flannel lump hunched over his drink and the bar we all know so well, and puts down her drink. "Fine." Is that a grin on her lips? No. Nah, I saw wrong. Surely. "Lemme show you how to beat a dare, Reba." She teases, hopping off of her stool and walking right up to Jim. There's a bright grin on her face that's a little more cheeky then flirty when he turns to see her. I hear a 'hey there handsome' and a 'you come here often?', and shake my head. She's never known how to flirt, but she's cute. The hand on his shoulder's a nice touch, though.

Their voices turn too low for me to hear but I watch, to make sure the old nutbag doesnt get too handsy, and- did those two always have chemistry?? Jesus. The hell am I looking at here. They look like an actual damn couple.

Wow, she's really going for it though. Putting her hands on his face. She even let's the guy draw her in between his knees. I admire the commitment, but-

What the fuck.

He just kissed her-- and she's l e t t i n g him?? What the f u c k- What about her secret boyfri-

... wait. ... wait, wait, wait- ... Oh christ alive.

This is her secret fucking boyfriend, isn't it?

Damn.

~

Regular POV

You pull back, wrap your arms around his neck over his shoulders, give him a final peck on the cheek and then settle back. "You think she saw that?"

"Mmmm... " Jim takes a 'descrete' look Reba's way, and abruptly looks back at you. "Yup I do."

He says that a little too fast. Cautiously you take your own glance her way.

Immediately you snort out a laugh when you see her with her middle finger up at you. "Fuck you both.

Now come back here Y/N it's girls night. Leave the old nut to his devices."

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Did I ever tell you guys my coworker and I have a running joke that the reason I don't date is cuz I have a boyfriend in Bulgaria?

Do you know why I picked Bulgaria?

...

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Sheriff Hank Keough x NaiveFemDeputy!Reader x Jim Bickerman || Drabble

Plot: What if Hank was still the Sheriff by the time Jim came to town? What if you were his Deputy? What if you were so focused on your job that you came off... a little naive 😅 What would happen if you two visited Jim in the hospital afterwards to site him with fines for trespass, illegal poaching, and theft?

This is just a short thing but I am filled with idea for this triangle XD I think Hank's crankiness and hesitancy to fall for reader paired with Jim's sleazy shamelessness is such a fun combination XD

Warnings: Mention of Jim's grievous injuries after Final Chapter (Loss of eye, hand, and leg), hospital setting, minor nudity (Pantsless Jim), and unedited/i wrote this on my phone.

Tagging: @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball and @slxsherwriter.

The nurse was hesitant to give you the room number when you nervously asked since you aren't family, but Sheriff Keough just sighs in frustration and shows his badge. That gets the nurse to move- and you make a little note of his confidence in your little notebook; you're learning everything you can from him!

When you get to the room, you're expecting to find a quiet Bickerman. Maybe even an unconscious one (The nurse said he was recovering from a serious crocodile attack, afterall. And you saw those monsters- surviving that had to leave terrible scars), but when Sheriff Keough pulls the curtain open you instead catch Mr Bickerman up and out of bed! He's only got one leg and onr hand, but he's focused and hopping into his jeans.

Immediately you go 'oh!', embarrassed, and throw a hand over your eyes. "We're so sorry!!" You exclaim, turning around.

Sheriff Keough sighs next to you, and you don't sense him turning around at all. You do hear Mr Bickerman say 'she's real cute' in a tone thick with an accent and smugness, and feel even more mortified, though.

Thankfully, your boss does not respond to that comment, just addressed Mr Bickerman with an exasperated and thoroughly exhausted tone. "Jim, get back into your bed. The nice lady at the front desk told us already that you're not cleared to leave the hospital yet."

"Iiii- uh, well, I feel fine actually. So, I'm discharging myself- agh," The pained sound makes you feel bad. Should you help him??

You would- but you think he's probably still indecent and you don't want to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Sit. Down." Sheriff Keough growls, and the very next thing you hear is a few sniffles and the abrupt squeak of the hospital mattress like Mr Bickerman tripped onto it more then sat down on it. Your boss sighs in what sounds like your direction, then. "And for gods sake pull your blanket on so my Deputy can take her hand off her eyes and do her job."

You feel a tad guilty as you lower your hand and turn to the Sheriff, hearing Mr Bickerman's sheets shift. Keough gives you a half pittying, almost... almost amused look, that confuses you a little bit (a flutter erupts in your belly. You figure thats just some more guilt), before he shakes his head and looks back to the perp. You dutifully follow suit.

There's a teasing sleazy smirk on Mr Bickerman's old face and his eyes are on you, making you immediately straighten up stock straight like they engrained in you in the academy. Out of discomfort. "All better sweetheart?~ "

"Uh, yes sir."

"Don't call him sir, he's not a sir." Sheriff Keough rolls his eyes, before pulling out his own notepad. As he blows air out his cheeks, you can tell he wants to get this over with quickly and get lunch. "Anyway, Mr Bickerman- "

While the Sheriff reads out the list of fines Mr Bickerman is facing for his activities and Mr Bickerman sighs, rolling his eyes at the entire list, you wander to the end of the bed and pick up the clip board there. Most of it is medical jargon that you definitely do not understand, but there are some words (notes, probably written by a student) that stand out in the margins. Your eyebrows pull together in concern seeing things like 'internal bleeding' and 'motor skills classes- 2 weeks'. After glancing at Mr Bickerman, seeing the stump where his hand used to be and remembering the matching one where his leg used to be (the glance of it you saw before you slapped a hand over your eyes and whipped around), you figure that must mean 'in two weeks'- because it is certainly going to take longer to learn how to live with half as many limbs.

"- and finally, once you are actually discharged from the hospital, you are expected to attend a mandatory hearing at the courts in order to discuss your apparent claims to that Blackwater cabin." Sheriff Keough sighs one final time, lowering his notepad. "Though hell if I know why you would want that shithole."

Mr Bickerman's face darkens immediately, surprising you- he seemed so wry a moment ago. "It's rightfully mine, Officer."

"Yeah, whatever. Would you like me to read the the requirements again?" You know that if he wasn't meant to ask that, he wouldn't, because Sheriff Keough is staring so hard at Mr Bickerman that you're sure if that look was aimed at you you would just be able to shake your head in responce. Mr Bickerman opens his mouth to respond, but your Sheriff beats him. "No? Great. Deputy, I need a coffee." He puts his notepad away and adjusts his pants. "On me."

The Sheriff leaves the room promptly, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway (A fact you always pretend you dont notice), and you're about to quickly follow him- but you have to be polite. You flash Mr Bickerman an awkward smile as you put down the clip board. "Thank you, Mr Bickerman. Have a nice day! Fast recovery- "

Ypu're about to yurn and leave, but the dark clouds that had crossed his face clear up surprisingly quickly as his gaze slides over to you again; that sleazy smirk spreading across his mouth once again, and you stop still again caught in his sights like a deer in headlights. "Hey, why don't you come visit me again sometime? Sure would cheer me up and uh, make the old recovery race by a lot speedier- huh, honey?"

Your jaw drops. Did he just- is this man flirting with- No. No. Nervously, you give a little fluttering laugh. Surely not. He's just a lonely old man! The nurse said no one else had even called. "Oh- well maybe. If I have time. See you, Mr Bickerman!"

"You can call me Jim, y'know."

"Oh... no no no, no I couldn't, sir!" Oh shit, Sheriff Keough told you not to call him that! You peer back to the door, to make sure you're boss isn't watching you. When he's not, your shoulders relax and you waive a very amused Mr Bickerman goodbye. "Anyway- feel better!"

You walk out but you can feel the old man's gaze stuck on you until you round the corner. When you see Sheriff Keough waiting down the hall, he's got a coffee for you already, out of a hospital machine (a precursor to the proper stuff, he says.) which you take quickly; filled with gratitude for your secretly sweet boss and how... for some reason... you're the only one who ever really sees that?

Oh well. Back to work.

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Hum hum hum... something about an au where Jim Bickerman and Wayne Jackson are twin brothers and Wayne got disowned and excommunicated from the Bickerman side cuz he truly sucks/genuine reasons (which yes, makes Jim the good twin 😅😬 Oof.) so he ended up working for family on their Dads side- the Tyrus's.

... Hmmmm XD