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myersmikey · 3 years ago

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Okay, I'm gonna start posting my fics here. They're only on Wattpad atm. This was the first one I wrote. I like it and I think it's my most well-liked oneshot so far? Anyway... Oh btw, I'm not doing requests atm. But I probably will in the future. I'm just kinda writing what I wanna write.

Protection (2018!Michael Myers x GN!Reader)

Original post date: November 5th, 2021

Summary: It's when Michael goes up against the mob in Halloween Kills. YN has too much empathy for their own good and does something kinda probably stupid.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, some spoilers for Kills (although I keep certain deaths vague), just a lot of violence ok?, some cursing

A/N: This fic can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, either or. I wrote this because watching Michael get his ass kicked made me almost cry (and still does.) I wanted to protect him so. Yeah. Here it is.

Word count: 3k+

This felt wrong. You watched as the mob full of angry Haddonfield residents landed hit after hit on this small town's own Boogeyman. You knew that he probably deserved it. After all, he's hurt many people and haunted this town for years. You'd heard all of the stories. Who hasn't? But even so, watching all of these people beat him as he laid face down on the cold, hard ground felt so horribly wrong.

You had come with the group, not because you were out for Michael's blood, but rather because your friends were. You just so happened to be in the bar that night with them. You had seen the look on Tommy Doyle's face. The man had riled a good amount of people in the town up, including your friends. You wanted no part in the violence. Not because you were afraid (well, maybe you were), but because you never liked the idea of solving violence with more violence; an eye for an eye. But your friends had ended up dragging you along into this madness. You hadn't even wanted to leave your house tonight, but your friends had harassed you about joining them at the bar.

You reluctantly went with them to the showdown, but announced that you would not be leaving the vehicle. This earned you a few scoffs and eyerolls, but they didn't bother you too much about it in the end. They were too set on letting their anger out on the silent killer.

You now sat in the shotgun seat of one of the trucks whose headlights were illuminating the area. Your hands gripped tightly at the seat, a horrified look on your face, breath audibly shaking, and tears threatening to spill over. You knew the tears were most likely not deserved. The Shape of Haddonfield never showed mercy, so why should all of these people? Regardless, it tore at your heart more than it should have to see him being kicked and beaten while seemingly laying there defenseless. With every swing, you winced and your breath would hitch. After several minutes of this, you no longer could stand seeing it.

You thought that it would be best to run away, far away from this street. You didn't want to see nor hear any of it anymore. You opened the car door as quietly as possible, ready to take off in any direction that was anywhere but here.

You glanced over at the man once again. He was bleeding heavily from being shot and beaten. And now looking closer you could see he was missing some fingers too. Although, it seemed like those were lost earlier in the night judging by the bandages wrapped around the hand. Your legs suddenly began to move on their own. But not in the opposite direction like you had wanted. No, instead you were running right into the center of this chaos, pushing people out of your way in the process.

Putting yourself in between Michael and some of the crowd, you stared straight into the eyes of one of your friends. 'Shit...' you thought, 'what am I doing?' You knew at that moment that the entire town of Haddonfield was going to hate you. You would be shunned and driven out of the city, hell maybe even out of the state of Illinois.

The entire crowd fell dead silent as they just stared at your shaking form, standing in between them and their prey. You were terrified. Trying to find your voice, you began to speak. "Isn't that enough?" You said, your voice trembling. "He's already down. Haven't you hurt him enough?"

You began to hear whispers all around you and people sharing looks. They looked shocked. Angry. Disgusted. Closing your eyes for a moment, you gulped. "Violence doesn't get anyone anywhere."

Glancing up at one of your friends, he looked appalled. Gripping at his weapon tighter, he spat out, "How can you say that!? You know what this man has done to us, to all of us!" You gave a small nod. "I know..."

Your other friend spoke up. "So how the fuck can you defend a monster like that!?" Her voice was dripping with venom and you winced slightly at the word 'monster.'

"I'm just saying that this is enough. You've gotten your anger out. Let the police take care of-" you were promptly cut off by someone unseen shoving you to the ground. Letting out a whimper after your body collided with the ground, you sat up and looked at the jerk who shoved you. The man, who you didn't know, peered down his nose at you. "Crazy bitch..."

Your lower lip quivered as you looked at the people all around you staring down at you and Michael. You knew that you had gotten yourself into this mess, but you've already come this far. You slowly peeked down at the man you were just mere inches away from now. The murderer you just threw your entire reputation down the drain for. Your heart ached all over again seeing him in the state that he was in.

Your eyes adjusted more to the harsh light cutting through the darkness. You could just barely see into the eye holes of the mask. Your blood ran cold as you realized that Michael was awake. And he was staring straight at you. The air left your lungs and wouldn't return as you realized just how close you were to a serial killer. He could end you within seconds right now if he wanted to. And still, you felt pity.

Time seemed to stand still as you both looked at one another cautiously. Until his eyes suddenly snapped up above you. Before you had time to even react, let alone turn around, you felt a sharp pain in your back. Letting out a yelp of pain, you looked back to see just as you were getting kicked again. It was your now ex-friend. It was obvious everyone hated you at that moment.

You raised your hands in defense as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. 'How ironic,' you thought, 'my sad attempt to stop this mob's rage just made it worse.' You felt another pain, this time in your shoulder, from somebody's 2x4 piece of wood. "Traitor!" They shouted, striking you again.

The anger once again became contagious as one after the other, the crowd starting attacking both you and the man you were trying to protect. Being knocked down so that you were practically face to face with him, you could see that his eyes were now shut. Feeling that pang of sadness again, you got up on all fours and crawled to him. You should be terrified of him and wanting to get as far away as possible. Instead, you pulled yourself on top of the larger man. Wrapping yourself especially around his head, shielding him from the blows.

Whether he deserved it or not didn't matter to you anymore. You couldn't let this man die. This only seemed to piss everyone off more. You squeezed your eyes shut and choked back sobs as you felt yourself acquiring more and more wounds. All around you, you could hear shouts of you being a traitor, you deserving all that's coming to you, you being insane. You found yourself thinking that maybe they were right.

You felt someone grab at the back of your shirt and yank you backwards. Instinctively, you reached your hands back to grab their arm. "Let me go!" you shouted. When your cry fell on deaf ears, you slammed your elbow as hard as you could into the person's shin, causing them to drop you. 'So much for no violence.' You thought, before quickly dismissing it as self defense.

You crawled back as quickly as you could over to Michael. Every muscle and bone in your body hurt. But you were already in this, and you weren't going to stop now until these people settled down. Sitting on your knees in front of the man laying behind you, you glanced up at the crowd in front of you. "Fuck this!" Shouted one man as he came forward and raised his aluminum baseball bat over his head. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the impact. You heard the unmistakable sound of the bat colliding with something near your head, but yet you didn't feel any pain. You slowly opened one eye to see the bat inches from your face being held in place by a bloody and damaged hand. Glancing in the direction of the hand, you see an arm coming over your shoulder.

You gasped as you realized it was Michael. He had propped himself up, although still laying on his stomach. He stopped the bat mid-air. Did he think that they were aiming for him? No, it was obvious they were aiming for you. Did he just save you? You weren't sure you could believe that.

He gave a tug, pulling the bat from the man's hands before more people on the other side had started hitting him again. One particularly hard whack knocked him back down and caused him to release the bat and you watched as it rolled away. "Dammit..." you mumbled. You weren't entirely sure who or what you were saying that to. The mob, yourself, Michael, the situation. Probably all of the above.

You leaned down and hesitantly placed a hand on his masked cheek and tried to look at his eyes. He was alive, although it seemed barely conscious judging by his half-lidded stare. Feeling yourself being pulled backwards yet again, you grunted in frustration and pain. The person dragged you several feet away before releasing you with a thud.

Looking over again, you see Michael weakly reaching for his knife that laid just inches away from his grasp. You didn't know how to feel at this moment. You still felt that same pity from seeing him so hurt. But you also knew what would happen if he got ahold of that blade again. And that scared you.

Before Michael could reach his weapon, Karen Nelson stepped over to him. You knew her but not enough to call her a friend. You did know that she also had a tendency to want peace and had a kinder heart. You wondered what she was even doing here. You knew her mom was one of Michael Myers' few survivors. You're sure that made her hate him. But her pacifist nature would typically keep her far away from things like this.

But in that moment, the woman's eyes were filled with seething rage and hatred for the murderer that laid just a few feet away from her. You watched as she slowly bent down and picked up the knife and gripped onto it tightly. What was she doing? There was no way she was about to kill this man. The crowd remained silent as they watched her every move. She turned to face him and stared down at him.

"Karen!" You hadn't even realized you had shouted her name until you saw many pairs of eyes staring your way. You shakingly stood to your feet despite your body's protests not to. "Karen..." you repeated before taking a couple of small steps towards her, placing your hands up in front of you as if to tell her to stop and think about what she was doing. She stared at you wordlessly as you stumbled another step towards her. "What are you doing?" You asked softly. Before she could answer, you continued. "You don't want to do this, Karen. Think about your daughter..."

Her iron grip on the blade seemed to loosen for a moment before tightening once more and turning back to Michael. You saw the rage in her eyes as she began to lift her arm up. With the last bit of your strength, you bolted at her, half tackling her and grabbing her arm that was weilding the knife. You looked in her eyes and pleaded, "Please stop! No more blood needs to be shed tonight!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued looking not at you, but at the man laying behind you. She choked out a sob and mumbled something that you couldn't quite hear. You were sure you heard her say "Ray" though. Wasn't that her husband's name? In your confusion, she pushed past you and drove the knife down into Michael's back. His body jolted before going limp and you let out a scream and covered your mouth with both of your hands.

Your legs finally gave out and you fell to your knees, staring helplessly at the sight in front of you. Karen turned almost robotically with tears running down her face and walked off in the direction of some nearby houses. Everything had become too silent besides your ragged breathing. The mob began to lower their weapons and relax. Some even turning to leave, ready to go sleep soundly knowing that the Boogeyman was finally dead.

You desperately wanted to look away from the gruesome sight before you. But you just couldn't. You should be worrying about your own injuries and your now destroyed reputation and friendships. You should feel relief that this 40 year nightmare was now over. Instead, your heart broke into pieces. You tried so hard to protect him but couldn't in the end. You thought back to the hand grabbing the bat that nearly put a dent in your head. It seemed clear that he had tried to protect you as well. Although, that thought seemed irrational. He was a merciless killer who seemed void of emotion.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you felt yourself get dizzy from the adrenaline wearing off. Time seemed to slow down and your ears began to ring as more of your pain began to catch up to you. Trying desperately to cling to consciousness, you still collided with the ground.

That's when you heard a scream. Followed by more screams. Opening your eyes, your vision blurry, you could see a lot of movement again. Confused, you tried to get your eyes to focus. And then you saw it. Michael Myers was up on his feet slashing his knife in all directions as more and more bodies fell to the ground. Upon realizing what was happening, your body was hit with another dose of adrenaline.

Propping yourself up on your elbows and then to your hands and knees, you watched in horror at what was happening before you. You forced yourself to your feet, every instinct in your body telling you to run and to hide. But instead you froze. Eyes locked on the older man who was taking the lives of everyone around him. His body moving as if he didn't just sustain countless injuries. You began to wonder if he was even human.

You watched as the last person drops after being knifed in the chest. A quiet shriek escaping your lips once you realized who it was. His bat taken from him and swung down, his life ended with his own weapon. Everything went quiet once again after the clank of the bat falling to the ground. You and Michael were the only ones left standing.

To your horror, the man turned to face you. You wanted to scream; to run. Something. Anything! But instead you froze like a rabbit being stared down by a predator. You may have protected the man, but you were still completely and utterly terrified of him. 'I'm gonna die...' was the only thing you could think.

Michael started walking towards you and you began to back up in fear. He got closer and your legs gave out on you again, finally at their limit. You fell backwards and all you could do was look up at the man. He stopped and tilted his head at you slightly. You open your mouth to speak but instead everything begins to spin again and you start to black out.

After a moment, you feel yourself being lifted from the cold and sharpness of the gravel. Feeling like you were moving, you tried to open your eyes wondering if you were actually moving or if it was just the dizziness. Your eyelids fought you.

You felt yourself being sat upright and finally managed to open your eyes only slightly. Michael stood beside you and you realized you were sitting in the same truck you started out in. Had he carried you here? Your eyes flick up to meet his blue ones. You tried to move and felt a large hand on your shoulder, stilling you. It was as if he was silently telling you not to move and hurt yourself more than you already were. Once he felt that you had stopped moving, you felt that same hand move to your head. Your eyes closed again as you felt him rub your head slightly before pulling away. You wanted to chuckle thinking that this had to be a dream. But chuckling would of taken energy that you no longer had. You barely pulled your eyes open one last time to see him reaching into his pocket before everything went completely dark and silent.

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

Your eyes slowly opened and you tried to move your head before being hit with a wave of pain. "Fuck..." you hissed. It was still dark out and you were in your friend's truck. You tried to remember what exactly happened before it hit you all at once. Your eyes snapped over to your right to where Michael had stood before. No one was there and the door was shut. Had you dreamt or hallucinated it? You had to of managed to get yourself to vehicle or something.

You went to move your hands up to your temples in an attempt to calm your throbbing headache. It was then you realized something was in your hand. Confused, you flipped your hand over and opened your palm to see a small piece of Halloween candy. You blinked in confusion before remembering that the last thing you saw before passing out was Michael reaching into his pocket. A tiny grin appeared on your face as you realized it was his way of saying thank you.

Huh... who knew the Boogeyman had a sweet tooth.

#halloween #halloween kills #michael myers #michael myers x reader #peepaw myers #old man myers #my writing #my posts #writing

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red-doll-face · 4 years ago

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Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

#slasher x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween #rz halloween movie #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th #thomas brown hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers

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the-slasher-files · 4 years ago

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Hello there! I’m back with another request. Can you write some headcanons of Michael, Jason, Bo and Bubba if their S/O was an artist? I’m an artist and I would love to see their reaction if I showed them one of my latest drawings.

Yay.. ok so I’ve got a few requests for this (from a shy s/o to a confident one) so I kind of mixed them together :) also btw I don’t write for Bubba but I will write for all the others, plus more! hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS WITH S/O THAT LOVES TO DRAW OR IS AN ARTIST

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, and CHROMESKULL

JASON VOORHEES

First of all living where you do at the cabin there is so much inspo from deer, to the lake, to changing of the seasons.. It is honestly the best place for an artist

Jason always noticed a black notebook lying around with pens and pencils on every other surface, and you were oddly protective of the book, so he left it alone respecting your boundaries

Sitting with him in the quiet cabin Jason loved the sounds of the pencils scratching along the paper, and he loved to watch the soothing motions of your wrist going to work

Slowly he will become more and more interested in what you're doing and he needs to see. Sneakily inching himself closer to you as you work away and stretching his neck as far as he can, catching a glimpse then feeling guilty

Jason wants to respect you so much but it kills him that you’re not showing him. So when you were in the shower he quickly ran to the book and gently ran his fingers over your work, amazed at how good everything was and how you brought the nature/animals to life in the book from around the camp

Flipping a page then he is met with sketches of himself, with the mask and without, his hands, some of his wounds with the bones sticking out... it was beautiful and he couldn’t look away until you walked into the room pushing him away from the book but seeing his expression made you melt, he loved it so much and slowly brought out confidence in you, making you show him your work all the time

A few times he had brought some art supplies home from a group of teens that came along

One day he came home to canvases all over the floor and red paint splattered all over your old t-shirt Jason freaked out thinking it was blood in the dim lighting, he stepped on your canvases with muddy boots and held you up making you yelp... “Baby it’s just paint”... well now he feels foolish and upset for stepping on your art

The next night he still felt bad but you showed him what you had created from “the incident”... Bright colours framed the bootprint and brought out the muddy tones, some of the canvases had pressed flowers along the details of the print and it was so beautiful Jason immediately hung them on the wall

Just an fyi he wants to always do crafts with you lol so make sure you help him

MICHAEL MYERS

Now this guy is pretty indifferent to everything but something about your art brings out a new side in him

You can say a lot of things about Michael but you cannot say he isn’t observant, he sees everything and knows everything

Like Jason he notices your many notebooks and various art supplies around the house, but he is far more intrusive than Jason and will rip the notebook from your hands holding your neck if you protest as he flips through it

Watching his face nothing changes, he just scans the pages then throws the notebook down walking away leaving into the night

The next morning notebook, paints, pens, brushes and other supplies litter the kitchen counter... wonder who got those???

Michael loves watching you work on your art, watching your facial expressions, the way the pens run along the paper and how the paint coats the canvases.. oop you just gave him an idea

One night he came home gruesomely cover in blood a little more than extra, and Michael moves above you and the art you are working on, whoops he is dripping blood on the canvas, then smearing it, then moving his knife along it using it as a brush, I guess

You yelled at him at first but watching how he seemed to enjoy the colours mixing together and the way the blood dried was sort of.. cute

You knew Michael had a funny and creative side just by the way he walked into the bedroom one night with a sheet over himself and sunglasses on, and the way he leaves marks on your body in a certain pattern or framing his favourite features of you. Michael’s art was his kill you realized

He really loves your pieces, even though he would never say so and Michael’s favourites were the sketches of himself you did and he would paint blood along them

You weren’t gonna lie it made the portraits more interesting and honestly beautiful, they quickly became your favourites as well

I’m sorry but my horny self just wants to see Michael in an all-black suit at an art gallery admiring the masked portrait of himself covered in blood... sorry but it’s hot lol

BO SINCLAIR

So Bo is not really observant so it might take him a while to notice the art supplies around the house but even then he thinks it’s just Vincent’s

You will probably have to do just do the art in front of him before he gets that its your art supplies.. man sucks lol

Bo really enjoys your company when he is in the shop, you just sitting there working away in your notebook and him under the hood of his truck

He doesn’t necessarily push to see what you’re drawing but Bo teases, the harder you hide it the harder he teases... “what ya got in there sex drawings?” “Fuck darlin’ let me be your model”

If you don’t want him to see what you’re doing never leave your notebook behind because the man is a snoop in every sense of the word

Bo 100% supports your art even though he isn’t very interested in it and doesn’t really get it, if it makes you happy he will steal supplies from his twin and if victims have notebooks or pens he will bring them to you immediately

On a day where you decided to spend the day at the shop, sitting on your chair sketching away while Bo was organizing his tools, he kept catching your glances and smirked “Baby, you need somethin?” he would ask smugly.

“Nope” a simple answer not stroking his ego “gonna grab a beer from downstairs you want one?” Bo nods as you make your way to the mini-fridge. Quickly the man strides over to the notebook, opening the page where you had placed your pencil. He knew it, sketches of himself, it makes his ego skyrocket.

“BO!!” pushing him away and he grabs the book holding it just out of your reach smirking “Momma always said I’d be a good model” “Don’t flatter yourself Sinclair, you’re the only man around for miles that doesn’t wear a mask or look like a trash man” you laughed as him smirk fell... run

He honestly loves your art even though Bo gives you a hard time... His favourite thing is falling asleep to the pencil sounds against the paper when you’re laying in bed together

VINCENT SINCLAIR

SAAAAAAME... lol

The man notices right away that he begins to lose his an unused notebook and some of his best art pencils

It made you very nervous to show Vincent what you sketched and painted since he was just so good at art in every way. It was unfair

His favorite thing to do with you is make little sculptures from wax or clay, he could tell you were very creative and good at what you made, and he would always be super supportive

Vincent’s praise and support made you more comfortable with doing your art around him and even showing him. The man loves it and loves all of it

Different from his brother, Vinny respects you a lot and is fine with not looking in your notebook until you’re ready to show him. He hates when people see his unfinished work and flip through his notebooks as well

The good thing about dating him is Vincent’s art stuff is now yours

Also he is a very good teacher, somehow though he cannot talk, Vinny never makes you feel bad about your art and if you need help he is more than happy to support

Art date nights!! Getting the idea from your phone, you lit all the candles and brought down all the paint you could along with the large unused canvases you had found. When Vincent strolls downstairs his eyes go wide, seeing you in just your bra and underwear “I’m ready for art class Vin” you giggle

When he finds your paintings or sketches of himself without his mask Vincent’s heart melts, finding someone like you to love him, let alone see his destroyed features as art kills him

CHROMESKULL

Jesse is a very watchful human, even when he isn’t at home the guy has cameras literally everywhere

When he was gone on a "business trip" you had all the free time in the world, plus you had picked up some new art supplies, so why not work a large piece when Jesse isn't around to distract you... When you had worked on for a few hours you got a text 'How's the painting coming along?' And that's when you realized cameras are everywhere!

If you are a shy person with your art he basically doesn’t allow you to be, he’s a pushy spoiled man but he is also very supportive and it makes you more confident in showing him

Jesse honestly loves art and has many expensive paintings in his large home, so when he sees your art you better believe he will have Preston frame the art and put it on the walls, with special art gallery lights really making it look perfect

If you need any and I mean any art supplies no matter how expensive Jesse supports it *hands you his gold credit card*

"Oh.. renovations? To the already perfect mansion?" "Yup.. it's your new art studio"

Art, wine and cheese nights... the perfect date

Feeling uninspired? alright time to change the scenery, let’s go to a tropical destination or a wintery cabin. The man wants to spoil you and put your passion at the top of his priority list, plus he just wants a vacation and see you in your swimwear

It doesn't matter if you're shy about your art or confident Jesse will say he is taking you to an event, get you all dolled up and take you to an art gallery event that is just your art... surprise! Dumb rich bastard loves your work and flaunts it to everyone he can

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slasherheadcanons · 4 years ago

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•How would the child slashers react to Y/n being their caretaker•

So got an amazing request. Asking how would the child!slashers react to Y/N being their caretaker. I was super excited to write this. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Michael Myers: •Ok, so you know that meme? Mother: Let me see what you have? Son holding up a knife: A knife Mother: No! That's basically your whole relationship with Michael. •Michael may be a child, but he is still going to be well, Michael. He steals knives and chases other kids with them. He steals candy when you're not looking and leaves all of his toys out for you to step on. He at one point tried to chase you with a knife when you told him he couldn't have any sweets until he ate all of his vegetables. •Bedtime is a nightmare. You have to drag him all the way upstairs to his room. He fights you the entire way, kicking and biting. Even if you manage to get him in the bed, he is going to thrash around, kicking the blankets everywhere. •The only time he isn't causing trouble is when he is sleepy. He feels too tired to be mean right now. So you get a bit of a break. Enjoy them while they last.

Bubba Sawyer: •Bubba is like the complete opposite of Michael. He is a sweet kid and never puts up a fight. He eats all of his vegetables when you ask him and when it's bedtime, he doesn't argue. •He is an adorable kid and loves it when you take care of him. If you involve him in things like cooking or other things you do around the house, he is excited. He wants to be apart of things, even if it's just doing chores. If you reward him with sweets, he will babble happily and hug your legs. •He loves to play with you when you get free time. His favorite game to play is tag. He loves running around the property, trying to avoid getting tagged. He is a bundle of energy, so it's good to get some of that energy out. •Overall Bubba is a good boy.

Jason Voorhees: •Jason is a very nervous kid. He isn't as bubbly and excited like Bubba is. He worries constantly about people not liking him for how he looks or if he is bothering you. So the first day you tried to take him to school, he started freaking out. •He doesn't want to get bullied. For his health, it's best to homeschool him. He is happier with you than he will be with other kids. Plus you both get to spend more time together. •Like Bubba, if you include him in cooking or cleaning, he will be happy to help you. It makes him feel wanted. So please include him in things and shower him with love. He needs it. Jason is just a very sweet and shy kid.

Asa Emory (The collector): •Surprisingly, Asa is a very mellow kid. He isn't as aggressive as Michael and not as bubbly as Bubba. He is calmer and spends most of his time either reading about bugs or going outside to find them. •The only time he has ever caused a problem is when another kid tried to bully him for loving bugs. So he beat said kid up. But other than that, he doesn't fight you on eating any vegetables or going to bed. •One downside though is that he will want to bring home the bugs he finds. He at one point brought home a cockroach he found outside. It ended up getting free, and you found it later on your bed. So yeah, not exactly fun to deal with.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull): •Jesse is one hell of a sassy kid. He can and will sass anyone. The other kids, the teacher, you, and literally anyone else. No one is safe from his sass. •He is a bit difficult at times to handle. Like sometimes he won't eat his vegetables if he isn't in the mood and it's a struggle to get him to eat them. He has also at one point has stabbed another kid for trying to steal his french fries. •He isn't as bad as Michael though so you don't have to have your eye on him all the time. So you get more time to have breaks. Well until he comes to you demanding to go play.

#michael myers #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer #asa emory #the collector #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #slashers #Child!Slashers #No romance this time #Caretaker reader

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buferfliz · 4 years ago

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Your Secret is Safe with Me

I wanted to write some cute fluff and came up with this idea for Bokuto. This is the first thing I’ve written for any of the Haikyuu guys so i hope you like it.

Warnings: None, cute fluff, some kissing

Word count: 1761

“Hey Ko. Hey Kuroo.” You greet the two men as you make your way over to them.

“Oh hey.” Kuroo greets you in return.

“Hey baby owl!” Bokuto cheerily calls out. “Did you come to watch me wipe the floor with this jerk?”

“Of course, I come to all of your matches including these practice ones.”

Kuroo lets out a chuckle. “I can’t believe you’re still with this dumbass.” He says to you while looking at Bokuto, waiting for his reaction. It doesn’t take long.

“Hey! I’m not a dumbass!”

“Yeah, well he’s my dumbass.” You say with smile.

“See! I’m her d—hey wait a minute.”

You let out a little laugh at his response, Kuroo contributing his laughter to the situation as well. This causes Bokuto to pout a bit.

“Aww, I’m sorry baby. I don’t think you’re a dumbass, but you are mine. How about I give you a good luck kiss to make up for it?”

He flashes you a look as if to say ok fine even while still wearing his adorable little pout. You smile and lean up placing a sweet little peck to the corner of his mouth.

“Before I go sit in the stands, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come over for a movie marathon tonight since you have a free day tomorrow.”

“What movies?” Bokuto asks.

“Horror movies. I figure it’s almost Halloween so it seems fitting.”

Bokuto hesitates for a moment and give a side glance to Kuroo before giving his cheery reply.

“Of course baby owl. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? And if you get scared, you can just hold onto me and I’ll protect you.”

You smile at him.

“I know you will. I’ll see you after the game.”

You then turn to Kuroo. “Good to see you again Kuroo.” He smiles and nods in response.

You give Bokuto another little peck, to the lips this time.

“Good luck baby.” You say as you head to the stands, leaving a beaming Bokuto and an amused Kuroo in your wake.

After the game, you stand outside the locker room waiting for your boyfriend to make his appearance. His team had managed to win, he had the game winning spike, so you knew he would be in high spirits. You smile, happy that they had won and proud of Bokuto’s performance.

“Hey hey hey baby owl!” You hear a happy voice say from behind you. Turning to face him you give him a loving smile.

“Hey Ko baby, you were great out there. I’m so proud of you.”

Bokuto blushes a bit at your words.

“It must have been those good luck kisses you gave me. So can I have one for the good job I did?”

You laugh a bit. “Of course.” You give him a gentle kiss to his lips. “You can have a kiss whenever you want, you don’t have to ask. I thought you would have figured that out by now, we’ve been together for over a year after all.”

“You’re right. But you better be careful, I might drown you in kisses now.”

He puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. You wrap an arm around his waist as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s fine with me baby, I love your kisses.”

Bokuto gives you a bright smile. “Should we get something to eat before we go back to your place and watch movies?”

“Sounds good. How about we go to that barbecue place that you love? You deserve it after you played so well. We’ll celebrate, I’ll even pay.”

“No. I mean yes, let’s go to that place but no I’ll pay. I have to take care of my sweet baby owl.” He smiles again and gives you another kiss, this time on your lips before leading you out of the building.

You open the door to your apartment and turn on the light before putting your bag and jacket on the nearby table. Sure you could have lived in a dorm on the university campus and saved some money, but you preferred having your own space free of drunken frat boys and nosy roommates. Besides it wasn’t even that expensive and it was close to the campus. You liked it and you could have alone time with your sweet boyfriend without any interruptions.

“Ko, can you get some drinks and make the popcorn while I change? You already know where everything is, you’re here enough.” You say with a chuckle.

“No problem, pretty girl. And of course I’m always here, it’s so much better than the dorms. It’s quieter, people aren’t always bothering me, and best of all I get you all to myself.”

He smiles at you and heads into your small kitchen to fulfill your request as you head to your bedroom to change.

You reemerge in shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Bokuto is sitting on the couch waiting for you, drinks and popcorn on the coffee table. He looks up at you with that happy smile that he always gives you.

“I’ve been looking for that shirt.” He tells you as he looks you over.

“Oya?”

He laughs. “Oya oya.”

You laugh in return. “You left it here the last time you came over. I’ll go put on another shirt if you want this one back.”

“Nah, you look cute in my clothes. You can keep it, at least for now. But I might have to leave more of my clothes here for you to wear.”

“Fine by me.”

You smile and sit next to him, draping your legs across his lap. His one hand comes to rest just above your knee while the other one gently rubs up and down your shin. You take the bowl of popcorn from the table and place it in your lap, throwing a few pieces into your mouth as you grab the remote to start the first movie.

“Freddy, Jason, or Michael Myers?”

“Uhh,” Bokuto gives you a side glance before smiling at you once again. “Whichever you want, baby owl.”

You were on your second movie of the marathon, when you noticed that Bokuto had gotten quiet and seemed tense. You look over at him. His eyes are wide as he watches the screen. His hands are still and he has a firm but gentle grip on your legs.

“Ko baby are you okay?”

He jumps slightly at the sound of your voice before laughing.

“Yeah I’m fine, beautiful. No worries.” He gives you a smile but it seems a bit stiff, not the easygoing one he usually has.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, really I’m okay.”

“Okay if you say so.”

He gives you a reassuring little kiss to your lips. You smile and return the now mostly empty popcorn bowl to the table before returning your attention to the TV screen.

By the time the third movie is underway, however, you know something is definitely wrong. Bokuto seems even more tense now, his posture no longer relaxed, and when the killer appears out of seemingly nowhere, you feel him squeeze your legs. It’s then that you realize what the problem might be.

“Are you scared Ko?”

“What? No! I’m not scared.”

He looks away from you.

“You are scared!”

“No I’m not!” He protests.

But you notice the embarrassed look on his face and know you’re right. Unable to resist after he protested so insistently, you decide to tease him a bit.

“The great Kotaro Bokuto is scared of a little movie? Aww, who knew you were so delicate.”

You let out a playful laugh but when you see him cross his arms over his chest and look away with a pout on his face, you realize you went too far and now he was in emo mode.

“Aww Ko baby, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you like that.”

You grab onto his muscular arm to get his attention but he doesn’t look at you, continuing to face away. You swing your legs around and straddle him setting yourself into his lap.

“I didn’t mean it, you’re just always so fearless, I didn’t think a movie would scare you. Come on, look at me my handsome man.”

Bokuto just lets out a little huff and stubbornly keeps facing away. You sigh and then cup his cheeks, moving his face to look at you. He lets you turn his face but refuses to meet your gaze and looks down, arms still crossed.

“Baby it’s okay, I know you’re brave, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Not only are you brave but you’re also sweet and confident.”

His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down again.

“And you’re talented and caring.”

You begin to place kisses all over his face starting with his forehead and then onto his left cheek.

“And kind and friendly.”

You place kisses along his jaw and onto his chin then up to his right cheek.

“And smart and loving.”

You kiss both corners of his mouth and then kiss the tip of his nose.

“You’re the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for.”

Finally you place a tender kiss to his lips and smile into it when you feel his arms snake around your waist and hold you tight. He looks into your eyes when your lips separate from one another.

“You mean it? You don’t think I’m some kind of wimp now?”

“Of course not baby. I would never think that.” You give him another sweet peck to the lips. “I know if I ever need you that you’ll be right there for me and protect me.”

He gives you the bright familiar smile you love in response. You give him a mischievous grin in return.

“And don’t worry. If Michael Myers ever shows up, I’ll protect you.” You tease.

Bokuto gives you a little glare at your teasing before the smile returns to his face. He recaptures your lips with his own before abruptly pulling away,

“What’s the matter?”

“Promise me you won’t tell Kuroo about this. He’d never let me hear the end of it.”

You smile and let out a little laugh.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me babycakes.”

“I love you, baby owl.” He says with a look of adoration on his face.

“And I love you, Kotaro Bokuto.”

You smile lovingly at each other before he kisses you again, movie forgotten in the background.

#haikyuu!!#bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader #hq bokuto x reader #kotaro bokuto #haikyū!!

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dawnwriterimagines · 5 years ago

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Recollection: Michael Myers X Reader

Request: where the reader was a friend of Michael's when they were kids, he had a crush on her since they've met. He doesn't get the chance to tell her since he's sent to smith's grove, but she gets an intern position during college, years later, and he recognizes her instantly. They reunite secretly for weeks, Michael can finally admit his love. Smut, please, thx!

Warning(s): Blood, Violence, Fluff, Smut, Language, etc.

Buy me a coffee? All support is appreciated.

- - -

"That's so cool," you cooed in awe, peering over Michael's shoulder as he connected the finishing touches of his new mask. An orange outline that fades to black as the color dragged downwards towards where the mouth opening would be, but Michael only ever cut out holes for the eyes in his masks.

Michael felt a swell of pride at your compliment, "Aren't you gonna finish yours?" He glanced over at your messy array of colored paper, you had taken it upon yourself to cut out pieces of your mask to make it alittle more decorative, but this being your first time actually crafting one it hadn't turned out so well.

You held it up to look it over, both you and Michael tilting your heads to the side as the face mask somehow seemed lopsided. "I think I'll make another one instead," you chuckled awkwardly, alittle embarrassed of your lack of mask making skill. You balled the glued paper up in your hands and tossed it over your shoulder, Michaels eyes followed the rolled paper as it fell before looking back at you. "How do you do it so well?"

"Practice," he answered as he watched you pick up your pair of scissors to cut out your mask outline. Instead of an entire face mask, you liked keeping your nose and mouth exposed and making the mask just around your eye's. He liked it that way for you, you had a cute nose and he liked looking at your lips when you talked to him.

He watched as you cut the paper dangerously close to your fingers, blinking he found himself prepared to tear the sharp utensils out of your grasp convinced you'd hurt yourself. But, you never did and he never needed to.

He finally slipped on his mask when you finished yours, coloring yours a pale blue with a red outline, black lines drawn around the eye holes and swirls across the corners of your cheeks. You smiled upon finishing and held it up, you were pretty proud of your work, "What'd ya think?"

Michael looked it over before looking at you, nodding. "Good. Now, you have another face." He spoke through his mask, his eyes were dark beneath the covering of his Halloween mask, you beamed at him.

"Now, I have another identity!" You gushed before slipping the mask on, tying it behind your head with the string you had poked through the edges. "Like a superhero!"

"Sure," Michael shook his head at your antics.

"That means you're a superhero too, ya know!" You leaped to your feet with all your paper scraps, smiling widely at him before turning and throwing away the scraps.

Michael blinked. "I am?"

You nodded as you turned back to him, a skip in your step. "Yep! You could be hero of Haddonville!"

Michael shook his head, "No, I hate this town."

You pursed your lips, "Oh...uh well, what about hero of--hero of Haddonville park? You like that cave swing we found the other day!"

Still, Michael shook his head, frowning. "I don't care about that park. And some fuckards broke the swing last week."

You sighed, finally giving up. "Oh well, what about your mama's hero?" Michael huffed, frowning deeply, you then remembered how upset he was with her dating that bad boy friend of hers. But, as you came up beside him, you gently nudged him with your shoulder, fidgeting nervously. "I guess you can settle on being my hero?" You gave a shy smile as he turned to you, surprised.

He was silent, his eyes were wide behind his mask and you bit down on your bottom lip, wondering why you had said anything at all. He hummed lightly beneath his mask, you glanced at him, "I guess that's ok." He said, walking forwards and out the front door of the house, kids already roaming the town outside for Halloween.

You froze for a moment before a wide smile spread it's way across your face, you giggled before running out the door after him, "Wait up!"

●

"Where the fuck have you been?" Your father grabbed you by the arm and hauled you off the front porch, the small bucket you had beside you now fallen over and spilling out candy wrappings. Michael and you just having finished your trick or treating for the night and headed back to his house to enjoy the sugary goodness.

You had spotted your father storming over from the corner of the street just as Michael offered a caramel slice to you, your eye's went wide and you stood to your feet. Michael frowning instantly before he glared harshly at your father who snatched you off the wooden porch. "I was just--!" You stumbled onto your knees as your father dragged you onto the pavement, scrapping your knees. "Daddy, I was just with my friend!"

You father scoffed. "That boy ain't nothin' but trouble. You're supposed to be helping me in the shop anyway, little girl."

"But, you said I could spend Halloween with Michael!" You pulled your arm from his grip but he held tight, before whirling on you, he stuck his finger in your face, twisting your wrist in his grip.

"Shut up! I don't need you talking back to me, I don't need you fucking up this night for me, I've got a nice deal tonight and you ain't ruinin' this for me!"

"But, I--" you didn't finish as he slapped you hard, you yelped and Michael stood angrily, running over as he saw you hold your cheek with a small cry.

"Hey!" Michael barked out as he stomped over, his pair of scissors in hand.

Michael's mother leaving the house upon hearing the commotion, she ran over as she found Michael stalking towards the man as you cried softly. Your father yanking you by your arm to his side as he rolled his eye's seeing the two coming over, luckily, Michaels mother pushed her son behind her before he could stab the unsuspecting man, his eyes glinting with horrible intentions as he glared at the man.

"What's happening here?" She asked, worriedly. "Michael, put that down," she sighed heavily as she tried to take the scissors from him, he held tight and she let him be. "Look, this is a misunderstanding. (Y/n) was just playing around with Michael for the day, she hasn't been bad, so what's the problem here?" She looked down at you as you sniffled. "Are you ok, sweetie?"

"I--," your father pulled your arm, shaking you in annoyance.

"She's fine!" He answered for you.

Her eyes narrowed and she straightened, crossing her arms. "Mr. (L/n), I know today must be a difficult day for you, but at least handle her alittle more gentle."

Your father tensed before taking taking a threatening step towards the woman, "You tellin' me how to raise my kid?"

Her eyes widened, Michaels grip on the scissors only tightened, glancing down at the man's calves and gut, his two striking points, he was ready to bring him down. "No, no, not at all!" She assured.

Your father straightened, the woman now remorsefully silent as your father yanked you back and turned to walk home, your father glanced down at Michael. The boy's eyes were...horrifying, your father visibly stiffening at the violent look directed towards him.

As you followed your father, reluctantly, Michael's gaze dropped from the older man's skull before looking at you, walking from behind his mother, he began to follow you absently. However, his mother took his wrist and held him, "No, Michael. Don't," she warned him. You turned at her voice, you were turning the corner and your eye's linked with Michael's, you gave him a wave before you dissappeared around the street corner. Michael pushed his mother away, she sighed heavily, "Hey, I know she's your friend, but we can't do anything right now, just come inside, Michael, come on."

She pulled him into the house, but the rest of the night, Michael stood at the window, waiting to see you at the corner once again. When he realized you wouldn't be coming back, he snapped.

His mother's boyfriend was first. Having many times talked bad about you when you had left, calling you a 'freak' for hanging out with him. Tying him to the chair as he slept drunkenly, no one in the house could hear his muffled screams as the young boy slit his throat and let him bleed out as he went after his sister next.

His sister, having just stepped out of the shower, was delivered a brutal assault of stabs from the kitchen knife that Michael had collected before coming up to find her. He hated her the most, always ignoring you when you were around and pushing you away from him. He pushed his knife into her spine to end her frantic screams, she was just inches from the stairs, to safety when her body went limp.

His mother could do the dirty work herself.

He walked out of the house, a knife still in hand, as he walked down the neighborhood, the steel knife glinting in his grip, he had almost forgotten that it was still Halloween, people still running around dressed in costumes. His knife still dripping blood and leaving a subtle trail from his home into the street. He was headed to your home.

●

You awoke to a hand on your forehead, that dragged over your head and stiffly through your hair. It repeated, this time alittle gentler, you made a tired noise in your throat before draping a hand over the waist of the person beside you. The hand stopped, almost frozen before shakily continuing, his thumb this time brushing along your cheek, leaving a sticky residue behind.

You hummed as you adjusted your head from the pillow into the person's side, still half asleep as you released a pleased breath. The gentle touches faded and then they adjusted themselves against you, now laying down fully to face you and resting a hand on your side.

Michael watched, silently through his mask as you slept unaware of his presence, but welcoming him anyway, he breathed lightly against his mask.

He glanced towards the window as a red light flickered against your covers, then it faded to blue, after that he could finally hear the sound of police sirens closing in on your house. You shifted and Michael directed his gaze back to you, seeing that you had woken up.

But, you didn't flinch. Instead smiling sleepily, your raised a hand, running a finger down the side of his mask, "Michael..." you whispered, happily. He didn't say anything, but he released a heavy breath that you smiled through as he then pulls you close and let your head settle against his.

The police bang on the door downstairs, you sit up in confusion, pulling away, Michael glances back before pulling you back down, "Michael, what's going on?" You question, your hands feel sticky, you pull them back and you smell something metallic from them. The blue and red lights outside illuminate the room and you can see the blood staining your fingers. "Michael?"

He doesn't say anything still, he only strokes your hair to the side before turning you over onto your back, he sits up and is directly over you, his knife held at his side, "I love you," he whispers with ease, almost inaudibly.

Your eye's widen, before you smile, almost forgetting the police that were currently rushing through the house, finding the body of your father on the steps. You held his hand in yours, he squeezed it and in the flickering light, you could see his eyes close. "I love you too." They open wide, he releases a cry, just as he brings his knife down on your side.

Your eye's go wide with betrayal and hurt, just as you begin to scream.

Michael takes the side of your face in his bloody hand as he leaves the knife imbedded in your side, he climbs off the bed just as the police burst through the bedroom door.

Michael is taken out of the house, you are carried into an ambulance, Your eye's go wide at the sight of your father's corpse being covered with a white sheet on the living room floor. You fall unconscious as the police begin to close the ambulance doors, Michael is given one last glance of you through the window of the police car.

He's sentenced to a mental health institution, deeming him criminally insane, he's condemned to Smith's Grove Sanitarium.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween x reader #halloween

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doobasgirlgg · 4 years ago

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Who I write for and the rules

Jim Henson characters

Jareth the goblin(bulge) king

The Skeksis from the dark crystal

The Gelfling from the Dark crystal

Lord of the rings

Frodo Baggins

Bilbo Baggins

Samwise Gamgee

Legolas greenleaf

Smeagol

Aragon

Elrond

Thranduil

Horror Characters

Vincent Sinclair

Bubba sawyer

Thomas Hewitt(i keep them seperate cause i think their twins plus idk if people are gonna ask for a hc or nsfw of both of them together.)

Bo Sinclair (Everyone’s favorite hardass .-.)

Lester Sinclair

Chucky aka Charles Lee Ray (I like it when hes in his human form sometimes i mean that long hair and face ;)

Tiffany Valentine (I love her she’s awesome and she’s a queen.)

Glen (Yes you can request an nsfw for him i feel like even though hes “innocent” I still feel like he wouldn’t be that innocent just needs help with dating.)

Glenda (Hey I will sometimes make them separate k just so u know you can have some glenda too ;)

Hannibal (You can ask for which one either TV Show,Movies,Young hannibal mm i mean mads is pretty cute too ;)

Norman Bates (Either Anthony Perkins or Freddie Highmore.)

Brahms Heelshire (He is Harry like an animal and hella hot.)

Pennywise (hey you can have both the old one and the new one either one is fine with me i’ve watched most of these films and TV shows.)

Art the clown (I am still learning more about him give me time.)

Freddy Kruger (fucking butter face but still hot pfft get cause hes in hell.)

Pinhead (*weird slurping noises*)

Michael Myers (*Weird slurping noises intensify*)

Jason Voorhees (Sweet boi but still a handsome man)

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (I put them together cause i thought it would be nice if you could have both.)

More characters for this fandom will be added when they are requested since i only know and remember so many horror icons

Marvel

Loki God of Thots (Hey hes hot ok.)

Thor Odinson and god of thunder

Black widow

The hulk aka Bruce Banner

Peter Parker aka Spiderman (2020 spiderman.)

Thanos

Doctor Strange

The More you request the more i will add

Rules

Please be specific about your request like what do you want what type of nsfw do you want what type of hc’s do you want for the character which actor or series the character you want specifically from like say you want a Norman bates hc which actor do you wanna see do you wanna see Anthony Perkins or Freddie Highmore.

i will not do any rape nsfw to me that’s a big no no but say if the character is getting harassed not sexually but just harassed by someone and the horror character or just character gets protective of their s/o that’s fine and yes even breeding stuff and the period stuff is ok.

I will not do any harry potter stuff since i know some tumblrs i follow that already do that stuff i can give you a link to them if you want just send me a text and i’ll send you their tumblr.

I will not do any poop and other fluids that are too gross period is ok just no poop and pee and stuff k.

You can request more characters so i can add them to the list but i will not do any other fandom’s i was going to do homestuck but i have a feeling that’s dead but i am still thinking about it.

Do not ask for incest or something to me thats also a big no no and something gross and weird but poly stuff is ok.

Please be respectful and don’t be rude or rush me please if you do act rude i will not answer your requests until requests are open again.

Thats all for now Please do enjoy and send me some requests

#Rules #who i write for #Characters #Yummy peeps

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givemebtscenarios · 6 years ago

Text

Haunted House-Seokjin

Request: Going through a haunted house with Jin

Words: 1,840

A/N: This is HEAVILY influenced by the 'Haunted House' kind of series by Ellen. I suggest you check them out, because they are HILARIOUS.

A Bangtan Bomb. A fucking Bangtan Bomb. When they were playing 'Rock, paper, scissors' over who would be the unfortunate person to have to go through a haunted house for their newest Bomb, Jin was praying that he wouldn't be picked. Unfortunately, five minutes later, he was holding out 'paper' while Yoongi was holding 'scissors'. Everyone laughed and Yoongi nearly had a heart attack at the relief he felt. Jin talked with the producers afterwards and they gave him the directions and about how long it would take to walk through it.

"Fine. But I'm not doing it alone. Can I bring y/n?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can bring her. Just make sure she knows it's a bomb."

"I'm pretty sure she'll know when she see's the camera's everywhere." Jin mumbled.

"Why are you dragging me to this?" you whined from the passenger seat, a small camera placed on the dashboard of the car. Jin chuckled and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. You had no idea why he had suggested you to go a haunted house. Until he told you it was for a Bangtan Bomb. He was one of the two scaredy cat members of Bangtan, and you knew he was going to regret coming as soon as you stepped in line. You could see the lights of the house off in the distance and you looked out the window, trying to get your mind off of what was about to happen.

"It's something for us to do together. I haven't been able to be home much here lately, and I miss you.....plus, we needed a Bomb." he said. You knew he was trying to be sweet, but everyone knew you weren't the kind of couple to do daring things, such as visiting a haunted house. It wasn't up either of your alley's.

"You know, most people go on regular dates, like dinner and movie, or even just spending time indoors with each other when they haven't been able to see the other in so long. Not...go to a place where they're likely to piss themselves. Mainly you." you said, looking over at him with a grin on your face. He laughed as he slowly got closer to the parking lot, glad there wasn't that many people there that night. Your eyes scanned over the different skulls, witches, and spider webs that hung over the outside of the house and you groaned.

"Can't we go home? I know you don't want to do this." you told him, trying one last time to talk him out of it. He shook his head as he turned the car off and opened his door, getting out before walking over to your side and opening your door for you. You climbed out, hanging on to his arm as the two of you walked up to the door. There was a man standing outside that looked like he belonged in an episode of 'American Horror Story', ready to take money and hand out tickets. Jin paid for the two of you, the guy extending a painted over hand to give him the tickets.

The two of you walked inside, cameramen in front of and behind you, ready to catch and record everything. There was a woman dressed as witch that was taking tickets, a set of double doors right behind her. Jin handed her both of your tickets and she bid you good luck. You gulped and looked up at Jin to see him trying to keep a stoic face. He wasn't going to last the first five minutes of this. Jin pushed the double doors open and you were greeted with fog running over the tops of your shoes, floorboards creaking with every step you took and paintings all over the discolored walls. You walked until you got to the beginning of a long hallway and you grabbed Jin's arm.

"You want to go down this hallway? Are you kidding me, Seokjin?" you asked, looking up at him. His eyes met yours, a small smile on his face. He pulled you with him, you slowly stepping behind him. You were looking down at the floor when you heard a shrill scream come from in front of you and you looked up just in time to see Jin's screaming, warped face running back towards you, a woman dressed in white, bloody bandages running after him. You nearly tripped on your shoes as you ran to catch up with him.

"Jin!" you called after him, but it didn't look like he was slowing down any time soon. You leaned against the wall, still hearing Jin's footsteps as he ran down the other hall on the other side of the room. This house has a lot of halls. You thought to yourself as you pushed off the wall and headed down towards where Jin had went.

"Jin! She's not behind you anymore!" you yelled out, only to be greeted by another ear piercing scream of his. You looked around the corner, and nearly yelled yourself when Jin grabbed your arm and pulled you along with him, a guy in a Freddy Krueger costume chasing him. He led you up the staircase and into a random bedroom, lights flickering while the cameraman stayed in front of you. It was dead quiet when a guy dressed as a zombie ran out of the adjacent bathroom, causing you and Jin to scream out.

"Oh, fuck you!" Jin yelled, backing out of the bedroom.

"Jin...Jin, I just peed a little." you said, trying not to laugh at yourself. One of the producers took pity on you and gave you a little hint.

"There's supposed to be trail you follow for this one, you gotta find it." one of the producers whispered. You walked around, glad nothing happened while you were trying to find your way. You finally managed to find the trail you were supposed to be on. You walked through the plastic sheets separating one room from another. You were walking down the path when a girl sporting bloody makeup and an axe appeared in front of you, Jin's scream drowning out yours.

"Motherfucker! Where did you even come from?!" he yelled, grabbing your arm. You wanted to be scared, you really did. But, Jin was just making it too funny. There was going to be a lot of bleeping on his Bangtan Bomb. You walked down the path, leading you into what looked like a dining room, french doors half opened leading into the kitchen. A small figure ran across the room, banging on the windows of the door.

"They have child slaves! There's children working here; how much do they pay you?!" Jin yelled right as another child sitting to the side of you started banging on the table he sat at.

"Stop it; you're little!" he yelled, his grip on your arm tightening. You walked into the kitchen, greeted by a guy in a white sheet bending over a girl in a skirt and crop top over the kitchen counter as she 'talked' on the phone. You looked over at Jin and raised your eyebrows.

"We're in a porno." you told him, and he gave a quick second to laugh. The cameraman had to be sure to not get the people in the frame, only putting the camera on them when the guy behind her proceeded to grab the cord of the phone and choke her with it. You exited the bedroom, a man in black standing in the corner.

"Oh, ok, you work here." Jin said, noticing the orange light in his hand to direct people in the right direction. When you looked down at the end of the hall, you saw a man in a Michael Myers mask standing behind the door, only his head and chest visible through the window. As you stepped closer, the both of you noticed he never moved.

"Ok, ok, he's fake." you said, placing your hand on Jin's arm. Right as you said that, a man ran through the door of a room off to your side that neither of you noticed.

"Goddammit, motherfucker!" Jin yelled. You stepped off into the bedroom, looking around. There wasn't anything in this one. Except for the man the bust through the closet door weilding a knife. You jumped back into Jin, as if attempting to run from the room. His arms closed around you and led you through the door that went outside.

This was an odd haunted house. Wooden fences wrapped around the length of the house along with fake plants and trees. You walked down a little bit, another guy in a Michael Myers mask jumping out from a cutout in the fence. You screamed and jumped up and down, hiding behind Jin. There was an entryway back into the house with another worker standing in the corner. When you entered the room, there were five people dressed the exact same with mirrors on every side of the room.

"Okay, okay, one of them has to be real. They're not all fake." you heard Jin say as he prodded at one of the people's shoulders.

"This one's fake. This one isn't real." he said, slightly breathless. The two of you looked around, there wasn't anything spectacular happening in this room which was odd considering the rest of the house. Right when you were both in the middle of the room, all five people jumped at you wielding various weapons. The screams from you and Jin could be heard ten miles away. You continued down the path, coming into a room that was pitch black. You couldn't even see Jin. All of a sudden, a man with a knife appeared from above, his eyes wide.

"Fucking stop it!" Jin yelled, hitting the wall beside him. The two of you walked on, another guy with an orange light directed you forward. You followed his directions and walked outside, signalling the end of the tour. You and Jin both hurled forwards, your hands on your knees.

"I'm never doing one of these again." Jin said as he laid on his back, his chest heaving.

"I have to go pee!" you said, laughing to yourself. The cameraman couldn't help it, and chuckled along with you, seeing you and Jin nearly out of breath from being scared and now from laughing at each other.

"There's so much swearing, I feel so bad for the editor." you said, clutching your stomach as you remembered Jin basically cussing out the workers.

"They knew better than to send me to this!" he yelled, slowly getting up off the ground before helping you up.

"Did you really pee yourself?" he asked, doubling over in laughter again. You started laughing again, your stomach and sides starting to hurt. "Only a little bit!" you defended.

"Let's get home before you pee all over yourself and get it on my car seat." he said, wrapping his arm around your waist as the cameramen stopped recording.

#jin #bts #seokjin #scenario #haunted house #halloween #jin scenario #seokjin scenario #bts scenario #halloween scenario #haunted house scenario #bangtan #kpop #kim seokjin

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

Text

January 17: 2021: 11:52 am:

From Bing Internet Search Results:

“Air Jordan

American Brand

Air Jordan is an American brand of basketball shoes, athletic, casual, and style clothing produced by Nike. It was created for Hall of Fame basketball player and six-time NBA Finals MVP Michael Jordan. The original Air Jordan sneakers were produced exclusively for Michael Jordan in late 1984, and released to the public on April 1, 1985. The shoes were designed for Nike by Peter Moore, Tinker Hatfield, and Bruce Kilgore.“

Ok, professional basketball player invents shoes with air bubbles inside the soul.

The game of basketball was invented by a Canadian.

The Canadian’s take great pride in the fact that the game was invented by one of their countrymen.

The Canadians are all trained terror pirates, by order of the HMS Queen Elizabeth Windsor.

Elizabeth Windsor owns 90% of the land in Canada. Chances are high, the she is the LandLord of most Canadians.

All of the Canadian terror pirates use rectally holstered tanks of nitrous oxide as their primary weapon for pirating under British rule.

My guess is Mr. Jordan, and all of the professional basketball players, learn of the truth about what is explained above.

If so, with that knowledge, by default, comes the knowledge that the Christian religion is a lie, and is a basis only meant to serve the advance of the pirates.

With that knowledge comes the basis on which the Christian terror pirate ship is propelled, with use of captured children, “Jesus” all over the place.

Then, of course, the Christian pedophilia takes on a more clearly viewable darkness, ugly truth, the kind that no one is comfortable speaking of, even with(out) being silenced with physical harm... no one wants to address the Christians who rape the babies.

So, air bubbles in the souls of basketball shoes, when endorsed by a professional, take on new level of understanding potential, if only there were some people willing to watch the baby, not just keep an eye on the baby, watch the baby, always.

There are no such people though.

Do the math on this on your own, and, if you won‘t protect Micheal Jordan after I post this, be prepared to ship a sympathy card to his family when SAG sends the One Hour Martinizer and a extra large size body bag to his house as a result of what all of that means in the real world.

=========================================

12:22 pm:

If you do not find this offensive, there is something seriously wrong with your judgement, or, perhaps are naive, don‘t give a flying fuck, are Jesus... I suppose naive gets a pass, but we need to rebrand “naive” as “dangerously stupid, a threat to themselves and those around them”.

That is a full size crucifix, is not rosary beads.

There is only one use for that.

It’s a mast, waiting for Jesus to (be) found, to nail to the mast, to power the boat, and move the Christian pirate ship forward. Those who are nailed to the mast, are sails in the wind. Those who “Find Jesus”, or “Accept Jesus” are people who have agreed to go around looking for victims. The mast crucifix may or may not be a symbolic gesture, that man has one, it’s looks fully functional to me.

This happened at my home about seven years ago:

Some people came through the woods out the back yard of my home with an 8 year old boy nailed to a crucifix just like that one. The people were armed with staffs, gas, blades... strange looking weaponry.

The boy was dying on the crucifix as the group rushed my back door.

I grabbed my long bow, and ran upstairs, opened the window and sent some arrows into the group. They retreated back over the fence where (they) had carried that crucifix through the woods, at least from the nearby church about a half mile away.

The group came back with a ladder to the window upstairs later on. They were quiet this time. I saw the shadows of them at the window, ran upstairs, and one of them was already in the house, had pried the window open.

I tossed that one back outside, there was another on the ladder, who poked me in the mouth with a sword as I was pushing the ladder away from the house.

The ladder fell, the person on (it) was killed, fell on the sword that I was poked with. It was a woman, about 70 years old on the ladder who poked me with the sword, a neighbor.

I had a nasty wound in my mouth for a long time. “Skin Flap” on the roof of my mouth. It all healed, no signs of any injury since then.

I suspect that boy died. He was nailed with what looked like railroad spikes through his hands and feet. A man by the name of Don Wills and his wife were the leaders among a group of about ten Christian terror pirates who used the shock of seeing someone, a young boy, nailed to (a) cross, as way to weaken me before they killed me.

But I fight back.

I don‘t play fairy tale games with pirates.

===============================

1:08 pm:

This looks personal, directed at my house in retaliation for two people who were injured and/or killed at my front entry way on June 15 last year. One of them is suspected to have been Donald Trump, the other is suspected to have been Juseph Myers of 560 Jackpine. One lost a foot at the shin. the other was ran through with the same sword they brought in after kicking my front door open.

The two left, I shut the door, leaned against it in relief, and to keep the bastards from returning through the door since they had knocked out the jamb when the door was busted through. That is when 6 sheriff deputies came busting in, tackled me, twisted my leg, injured my knee, kneeled on my neck. hand cuffed me, and took me to the jail, where the following day, Lars Ulrich, Paul Reed Smith, John Mayer, and Zakk Wylde came into the jail with swords and rope to kill me inside the jail.

But I fight back. I don‘t play fairy tale games with rock stars at jail, and now all four are presumed dead as a result of that. (I saw someone who looks like Paul Reed Smith at the Walgreen‘s two weeks ago, he may not have died)

Beruse Sparacino was also killed in the jail that day by Zakk Wylde, who had a three blade sword they call a “Trident”.

The “G7 leaders″ = Gnosis Heaven Leaders = That group of dead rock stars, and others like them.

Cornish = My former spouse, who was with the group of rock stars that day at the jail.

Resort = My house

June Summit = Revenge

The BBC news selection of Johnson’s photo w/hand gesture seems to have double meaning, that means there are three ways to read the photo.

1 = Big Boobs = Federal Officers

2 = Rise up

3 = Make like a brazier, lift & separate = divide & conquer

=====

1:34 pm:

In conclusion assessment of the BBC Tweet, it seems appearant the recent pressure placed on Britain from this account has caused much heartache, loss of income, pressure from neighboring European countries on Britain, slowed the pirating, spoiled Brexit completely, and more, including massive devaluation of the Pound Sterling.

not bad for an old disabled guy with a hijacked internet connection, no help, and held captive in is house by surrounding Vatican terror pirates for the past ten years.

Plan: Maintain pressure on Britain, focus on I O Downing, find all of the House of Lords members and apply pressure there. Seek out the “Unicorns” such as Amazon, Tesla, Lyft, Uber, Google...

Google needs more creative means of pressure, it must be taken into custody of “The Free People of the World” and maintained.

Destroy Twitter.

That will do for the time being.

Request assistance from European nations who are the fodder of the Brexit Offensive.

Encourage the Scot’s and Irish to retaliate against Corona Virus bullshit.

USA Congressional pressure and exposure of the faslehood of their positions at House and Senate is necessary on a grandly embarrassing scale, of organized pedophilia beyond “Pizza Gate” and into the realm of millions of captive children held as sex slaves, then trained as terror soldiers.

Pressure on all fifty US Governor shills to resign.

Find and account for each and every Boeing airplane made since 1997. Search, inspect, look for stowing capability beyond the overhead compartment, and down into the area beneath the floors of the cabins.... all over and under, and inside every inch of every airplane. Use caution. Be prepared for Mustard Gas.

Pressure news media in creative ways.

Pressure SAG Card Holders of all kinds.

Body search every one of them, special attention to Musicians.

Bring Ian Anderson to my house.

Take all of the Virgin Atlantic Holdings into custody, inspect, change name to:

“Old Maid Holdings”

Close all Walmart’s permanently.

Acquire Kroger Foods, break-up into parts, auction parts to free people.

It gets complicated after that.

Have to find a way to reduce US “Departments” to much smaller, more manageable size, easy to regulate and monitor, no more duplicate departments. The right hand must always know what the left hand is doing, and vice-verse.

Massive global public education campaign to tell of the Christian lie, by telling the truth:

Christianity started 2021 years ago, when some asshole by the name of Marcus wanted to sleep with this other guys Ol’ Lady, Jesus’ Ol’ Lady. We don‘t even know her name, and Marcus turned her into a Whore, and lies were told, to get more men to come to sleep the with Whore, so that other Christian Pirates could Rush them in the hay stack, where they were having sex, to kill the men. We only know that she became “The Russian Mother of all Hoaxes”.

They stole time, to control time better, by putting two extra months on the calendar, which used to be ten months, about 36 days in each month.

They changed all of that, and put the extra months on the wrong end of the calendar year... should have been put at the beginning of time, not the end of time if they wanted the equinox to count, and make spring a thing for planting, and autumn a colorful special time of year for harvesting.

Since that time, they have told the lie, about Jesus and God. The truth is that Jesus is you, and me, and we are to be used up, used all up in every way, in order to get control of the world, they lure us to church to lie to us about Jesus, and they feed us little tiny clues about the truth, that Jesus is a sail catching wind to move the Christian pirated ship forward, by collecting all of the Jesus’, and nailing them to the mast of the ship, to move the boat forward, while using the Jesus’ as bait, to catch more Jesus’. We learn the truth on our own, with the clues they feed us. Then, once we know, and are soooo scared, that is when they give us one chance, to “Accept Jesus”, and continue to help to move the Christian pirate ship forward, by “Finding Jesus” where every we are able to see a victim who is ripe to become a sail on a pirate ship, to move the boat forward. And that is why there is a “God”, in order to provide that there is an all powerful being that will kill you, unless you accept Jesus’, to go find more Jesus’, with the “Fear of God” in your own, personal sail, to move your own personal boat forward, while searching for more Jesus’. Each pirate family is expected to capture and keep at least one “Person Jesus” for training as a disposable terror soldier, to do the dangerous pirate work, so that none of the pirate family boats will suffer a personal loss, it’s only Jesus who is killed, or hurt, so, the mother ship can stay afloat better, when the crew is in good spirits, and no family members are hurt or killed while the Christian Pirates are searching for Land, Riches, Slaves, and Power... the treasures of the world.

That is the kind of campaign that is necessary to educate the free people who remain free, so that do not become a sail on a pirate ship.

Personal Jesus is a slave child in training as a disposable terror soldier, for those hard to reach places.

The Pope’s flying V guitar rig is a two channel, 100 watt, tube driven amplifier. It’s cuts through stacks of Marshall’s, leaves them as chum for catching more Jesus’.

Clean Channel:

(summer)

youtube

Dirty, high gain channel:

Personal Jesus:

(winter)

youtube

{1-18-2021: 11:22 am: Don‘t pass judgement on the man by the name of Marilyn Manson until you have seen an interview or two, then, as I did, you may come away smarter than you were before you watched the interview, and, as I did, you may also see that Donald Trump, Joe Biden, or any of the candidates could never survive a debate against Marilyn Manson. Maybe Barack Obama could give Mr. Manson some competition at a presidential debate, maybe)

There are two more additional channels, Crunch, and duplicate Clean, for dialing in custom cleanliness with two faces, Comedy and Tragedy on prime time TV, are optional. Are the “Equinox” additions to the calendar, for planting on a Spring day, and harvesting when it’s nice and colorful outside in Autumn (fall).

Clean.

Duplicate Clean.

Crunch.

High Gain.

Tons of effects for custom tailoring are available.

=====================================

3:12 pm:

I am going go ahead and say that the person who is seemingly named Marilyn Manson, is a victim of Christian Slave upbringing, and is trying to get some attention to the ideas expressed here on this tumblr post.

======================================

3:21 pm:

Skip a head to the 1:25 minute mark here, but do study this whole short video as a Christian Cult Ceremonial Event:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygXKUkutGEo&t=85s

youtube

Speculation is dark, and is complicated to fully explain. There are more complete explanations of Christian goals of surgically alterred slave population, ergonomically designed humans, for moving the pirate ship forward on this account elsewhere, is extremely dangerous knowledge to posses, use caution when sharing information about “Partners”, “Companions”, “Side-Kicks”.

The speculation is that the gavel was presented to Ms. Pelosi as a test. I speculate that she had ordered a custom made, surgical altered slave being, a US Citizen Kidnapped Victim at some point about five years prior to recieving the gavel. The “test” is her public reaction to the gavel, knowing that it represents a notice that “Her partner is ready for pick-up”. So, the idea for the test, is for all involved to feel confident that she is ready to really accept a human surgically altered slave child. Her reaction to the gavel as the reality sets in at a public event, will be what is used for a decision by the “Choir Masters” for a go ahead, or a refusal to deliver based on how she reacts in public to the gavel a symbolic slave child, surgically altered, personal Jesus.

Only is speculation.

The existence of the surgically altered custom ordered slave victims is not speculation. Is fact. Is dangerous to know about. Be careful.

There is a custom human order sheet, I have seen them. Anything from specific arm and leg amputation length, to replacement of hands and feet, and in which particular direction, frontwards, backwards, left on right, right on left hands and feet, can be ordered, as well as optional equipment. I have seen a “partner” who was completely surgically covered in breasts... about 72 of them is my guess, large and small.

Hands attached at the shoulder are called “flippers”, and are specified on a Partner ordering sheet.

The purpose for the existence of “Partners”, is for experimental considerations.

Government officials, movie and TV stars, producers, musicians, SAG... are offered a chance to order a human configured the way they want it, it takes many years for delivery of the finished product.

That way, the surgeons who do the forced surgeries, are able to experiment, to see what works, and what does not work. The rock stars and movie stars can get very creative with a human Partner order sheet, and the surgeons are challenged that way, to come up with ways that a human can be altered as is necessary or desired, in effort to prepare the surgeon’s knowledge, and advance the skills, and provide necessary technology as demands for special circumstance are encountered on the order sheets.

I speculate that Ms. Pelosi was granted acceptance, barely, of her Partner.

She would need to show to the “Choir Masters” that she is equipped with a suitable place for her partner to reside, and a plan to hide the Partner in emergency, with extreme concealment methods.

You won‘t learn this kind of real terrorism from news media, they are the people who supply the raw materials for “Partner Production“.

Some things to consider for doing your own research:

Look around where you are at the people in your town, at the Walmart for instance. Make some assessments of the people’s body shapes. The SDA terror soldiers use fruit and vegetables to say a body shape:

Pear shape

Apple shape

Carrot shape

String Bean shape people.

There are “Specimens” discussions.

A very strong and healthy male is often a “V” shape.

Such as US Military are, or were.

The Partner surgeries are so brutal, that only the strongest, most healthy individuals are able to live through them.

So, when making your “people of Walmart” assessment, ask yourself, the same as the Christian terror pirates do, “Are there any V shapes here?”. Then decide, are there?

Lots of apples, pears, some carrots, string beans... I don’t see anymore V shape at my local Walmart any more.

now you understand.

Only the healthiest, strongest are going to survive the experimental surgeries.

At Oregon Health Science University in Portland Oregon, there is a “Dornbecker Children’s Hospital”, a “Shriner’s Hospital”, and a “Veterans Administration Hospital”.

nine floors beneath the VA Hospital, are healing experimental surgical US Military.... been there healing one after the other for more than twenty years.

There is no one watching the baby.

The baby is on fire.

The same conditions are suspected nation wide.

Loma Linda Hospital University may be a place where the surgeons are trained. Please be careful when going to speak with Dr. Wolf Kirsch there. He is a Brain and Spinal surgeon, said to be second best in the world, only outdone by a colleague in New York somewhere, as of 1995 or so, as the story is told.

And that is what happened to many of the US Military and national guard service men and women.

V shape is a specimen grade. High grade.

You can find many references to V Shaped Recovery on Twitter, where this news is common knowledge. The only ones who do not know these kinds of truths is the US national security fools, who insist on being fooled all of the time and refuse to do their own research, while allowing that the Christian terror pirates do the research for them. In this way, the US Security personnel, are weaponized against the people they are sworn to protect from terrorists.

There is no more US national guard. They were all killed more than twenty years ago on the entire west coast of USA. Some may be in Hollywood, in a basement, as a partner for a rock star somewhere, or, I am certain there are partners at the White House. There has to be to fulfill Trinity rules.

“Welcome to Jamaica, Have a nice day”

===============================

4:10 pm

If I were President of USA, I could stop 90% of all of the terrorism on earth permanently, while restoring freedom, strengthening families, and small business, and I would find a way to provide real, quality health care, and education for the citizens.

The problems I would face are two major ones. The news media and entertainment industry are one big fucking problem.

The other problem, is that I would have absolutely no military to protect USA.

The government would be all rearranged, somehow differently, much smaller. There would be some argument about some things I would try to accomplish, such as making the electric power a national system, not a private system, power would be subsidized with some kind of way to provide free power up to some limitations, and then, you could pay for extra if you need it.

There would be argument about elimination and outlaw of Blue Tooth technology.

There would be cellular phones that work to reach the people you need to reach, privately.

911 Emergency Phone would be taken out to sea, and dropped overboard, in favor of more diverse ways of reaching some help.

I could see where something like this tumblr social media could be expanded, made to actually work, and used also as a emergency report portal. It’s not like terrorists would spam the place if it was truly secure and get away with it.

Money. It needs to be truly defined. The money is only as good, as the place that issues it is strong and productive. I see the money does seem to be worth much as it stands, and the transactions are in astronomical figures from WH news about spending. Some there would be some kind of measure that works better, based on manufacture, and productivity of the nation as unit. I see news where the fast food workers are wanting to form a union and are demanding $15 hourly. I am sorry, but that is not going to fly. Fast Food is not a career choice. It’s a place to learn how to be productive, then move on.

I would encourage diesel power, discourage electric power personal transportation.

There would be some kind of form to fill out to come to USA, something better than a wall on one side and wide open on the other has to be done.

The way USA is positioned among itself, is a situation that is a result of more than fifty years of organized division tactics, all of them successful. The states are too divided, they need some glue. A more united, United States is something that needs to happen, is complex, many invisible problems exist, nothing can be done until all is seen more clearly.

Make Twitter go away. That is the very first step to solving the worlds problems.

There would be a effort to encourage engineering as a career choice, some school refocusing away from “Ivy League” and towards a mechanical, structural, tangible student body, more doctors, more smart people. USA is purposefully producing stupid people, actually are victims of the Christian/Britain “British Still” education tactics. It’s not like the people are choosing to be less than what they are capable of, it’s that they are not encouraged to believe they are capable. So, I recommend big changes in education, lots of access, lots of encouragement to be what you and who you want to be, when you want to be it.

That Marylin Manson video shows the outcome of British Still education. The whole Transgender subject is another way of saying “British Still”, there is very little information available anywhere to learn about what the British Still is. Look at a video by XTC here:

youtube

The Nigel’s are being educated with upside down and reversed backwards education. They are the children of murdered US Citizens, and from other places around the world.

Seriously, from a young age, the children are taught that “up” is “down“. “yes” means “no”, airplanes are boats. The ocean is a lake, and other dangerous learning, where in an emergency, a question like “do you need help?” is answered with “no”. But that person is a slave, needs help.

“Please Drop the Gun!“

“no” Ivanka reaches to put the gun down. Gets shot.

British Still.

It’s beyond what I can effectively explain.

For considering the XTC video, be open minded, place Ivanka Trump in the Nigel position at age 5, and keep educating her with specially designed learning, complex beyond comprehension learning, then, when she’s fully cooked, turn Ivanka loose. Point her towards Washington DC, and offer lots of support services for her and her handlers. Do that with ten thousand maniacs.

You can see that problems can occur such that reasoning is out the window for understanding what is happening. It’s as if the people are speaking Mandarin English, and you only speak English, it works enough to pass through while saying hello, and some pleasantries about the weather, and that’s the extent of the conversation possibilities. Ivanka Nigel would need to move on after passing by an English only speaking person, with some pleasantries as she goes by, so no one will notice that the language and behavior are custom tailored with a British Still. The handlers help to get her into the desired positions for reaching specific goals.

Two Ivanka Nigel’s can have a personal conversation in a public place about mass murder and all that will be overheard is talk of large pop-corn w/buttery sauce and a movie size ju-ju bee’s.

I don‘t understand it, I know that the “Partners” are educated bassackwards. Up is down, yes is no... and more.

See that the XTC video was filmed in 1979, and there are Three Dee computer augmenting glasses in the video.

Practical use of a Nigel when performed by global pirates with experience and a proven success rate and tactics, goes like this:

Ivanka is disposable. Many Ivanka’s were trained, there is an endless supply of Ivanka’s.

Terror army needs to get inside of the Kremlin. They stage Ivanka out front, arrange a Universal Studios style demonstration is happening, down the street a mile or two. Ivanka is not on camera, they are all down the street. She is out front of the Kremlin, told to pull out a gun, is fooled by her handlers, speaks backwards, and is there, The door opens, and the shot is fired by Kremlin security, and in all of the confusion there is enough nitrous oxide coming down wind from the demonstration that the Kremlin security makes some mistakes. The door is open, and the terrorists can go inside in the confusion and gas fog. Maybe it does nor (not) work the first time, so, they perfect their ways, maybe vehicles are used in some way on the next try, but Ivanka Nigel is a backwards speaking person who is set up to fall, in order to get inside one way or another way. She is disposable, a Christian Sacrificial Lamb. There are thousands more in the Still being cooked and prepared for the next course of the meal, where the food is the goal. They are pirates. The ones who do the teaching of the Ivanka’s are not like regular people.

SAG does variations of that same basic idea, “Save the Princess” would be “Hot Chick With a Puppy”. Could be Ivanka is the offender, or, is the Princess, either way, the gun is the Puppy, and on more important goals, a sacrifice is present to take the fall, make giant distraction long enough to reach the goal, in a fog of invisible nitrous gas.

Addition of Medazolam (Versed) gas to the nitrous makes unavailable unbelievable circumstance. A situation of Perfect Storm is present with that mixture, The Versed prevents any one nearby from remembering what they saw at an event, even the offenders are not able to remember that they killed anyone. If they are caught and questioned, it’s not possible for those people to say details of what happened.

The name of the drug is suspicious. “Versed” has a “Vatican Choir Texture” to it, and the generic Medazolam, has a built in sacrificial “lam”. Research of it’s origin is warranted.

The use for Medazolam, will be explained by a surgeon or anesthesiologist as:

“Sometimes, we need to wake the patient during the midst of the surgical procedure to ask them if they are able to move their limbs, so that we know that the connections at the nerves are correct. We really don‘t want for the patient to suffer of nightmares associated with having been awakened during the procedure, so, we take the precaution and go ahead and administer a moderate dose of Medazolam to prevent unpleasant dreams post surgery”

==================================================

7:17 pm:

This post started in a tumblr text box just like the one shown below:

7:27 pm:

Tumblr is presenting me with two different kinds of text box to write in, that one above is very difficult to obtain, takes special skills and determination to get a text box like that one above.

This one below with colorful icons, on the other hand, is very simple to get. I can write in a text box like the one below from many ways of different places within Tumblr where the one below is available, is cheap, is easy, like a Russian Whore, they are everywhere, you cannot get away from them, but that one above is almost impossible to get. This post with the Air Jordan at the top part, and the Medazolam Bullshit Ivanka Russian British Still Whore Princess at the bottom is somehow being throttled, made very difficult to obtain, is almost Unobtainium and is the kind I started with on this post, which will not recreate by copy & paste to try to make assessment of why there are two kinds of text box experiment.

I tried to recreate this post in the colorful kind of text box just now, and found that it is not possible to copy and paste the contents from this tumblr entry into a text box with colorful icons.

I did not try that in the reverse though, I need to start a post in the colorful kind of text box, and see if it will copy and paste into a text box that has only the gray color icons and fewer control features later on.

========================================

9:36 pm:

Let’s go back to applying pressure, where to apply it, and what brand of pressure to put on Joe Biden.

Ok, here’s the scoop:

You could go with Time Warp Terror, pressure Biden and Harris both about time and a lot space between the time. Any way to emphasis that it’s no longer a secret that Beta Twitter included the entire Democrat debates with all of the players, all of the exact same footage presented in 2008 and was filmed way before that.

Harris, Warren, Sanders, O’Rourke, Bloomberg and all of the others too.

Pressure Biden about Mike Bloomberg is Ronnie James Dio, because Ronnie James Dio portrayed Micheal Bloomberg for the phony debates.

Also, Kamala Harris’s daughter may have been the “Homeliest Walmart Terror Representative” that I was saying was in the men’s underwear department doing the Dickie’s Longjohn Shuffle, but I am not certain, it could have been Harrison Ford’s daughter, and I misunderstood was I was told about how she introduced herself there at the Fruit of the Loom’s department. So, the information I have is that at the Walmart the other day, either Kamala Harris’ Daughter or Harrison Ford’s Daughter was at the Walmart to kill me.

But there is more. The gal at the banana department said she was Lars Ulrich’s Daughter, as you may recall, he was killed in defense at the Josephine County Jail on June 16, 2020 along with John Mayer, Zakk Wylde, and perhaps Paul Reed Smith who it turns out maybe was only injured, healed, and then came back to take another wack at me at the Walgreen’s last two weeks ago or so. If it could be shown that Kamala Harris’ Daughter was the one in the Fruit of the Looms Department, then, we could really do some Chinese Laundry the American way, where the Chinese people are happy to do the laundry as long as they get paid for the work they do at the Chinese Laundry, It’s all One Hour Martinizing now, and that simply is not working.

Either way about Ms. Harris’ Daughter, the big ammunition is with the Time Warp Terror Pressure Campaign, and some sugar on that with Mike Bloomberg and Ronnie James Dio are the same guy, and that is FM at the Inauguration live broadcast presentation on major network TV news programs, and the Syndicated ones too.

That banana girl got hurt real bad as I recall when either a sword, or an arrow came through he [the] produce department there nearby where the Honey Dew Mellons are at, at the Walmart that day, so the pressure is that if Ms. Harris’ Daughter was the Fruit of the Loom girl, then that means she was like, a plan B, for trying to kill me there, and was working along with Lars Ulrich’s Daughter.

Maybe some autographed Bongo’s, from Jamaica, says Babaloo on them, and a signature on there from some special drummer, maybe Phil Collins would sign some Jamaican Bongo’s, Cuban one’s would be even better for live TV. Make them “Extra Lars Size” with a camel painted on them, and a small gift from Nepal Gift shop as “Welcome to Jamaica, have a nice day” Presidential gift, and a lollipop.

Pressure does not have to be expensive.

The pressure would not be complete without something for Boris Johnson, or, House of Lords members, or all of them. I am thinking about a replica of the Queen’s Hat, she is dead you know, to start with. A autographed picture from Mitt Romney could go a long way. Maybe some Khashoggies printed like Euro’s could help... $3 ones... if those were signed by some European leaders, that is some magic that will surely save the nhs, from themselves.

Modi needs some pressure too, don’t forget about the Indians. Some Cheeseburgers, lots of Cheeseburgers to India, and a compass.

I think it would appropriate to supply some commemorative sympathy cards for the Republican Congress. Outgoing sympathy of some kind, and also for the department heads, Ben Carson, Alex Azar, Elaine Chao...all of the usual suspects could use some extra sympathy as their leader steps away from the alter. I am thinking in terms of a Where’s Waldo theme... something fun that everyone can enjoy.

We should pay close attention to who went to Obrador’s inauguration in Mexico, and compare which of them attends the Biden inauguration, I think that is interesting statistical information, could be useful.

Maybe Justin Trudeau will attend, who knows? Anything could happen.

One thing is for sure, the Bergoglio cannot be there, he was killed at the Grants Pass Walmart when he walked into a giant guillotine at the front entrance there last month. He is part of a terror cell called “The Green’s of Old Three Ply”. The name comes from Gibson Guitars, the old style pick guards are made of three ply plastic. For real... “Green‘s of Old Three Ply” is Vatican Choir top high command terror Christian pirate captain level. Top level Green Jello terror cell.

They use this Aerosmith song as a theme song:

You have to change the lyrics to this for Gnosis Rules:

“♫♪ Green‘s of old three ply ♫♪”

youtube

(my account is hijacked again)

=========================================

1-18-2021: 1:05 am:

Local Update:

A walk to the mail boxes was cold.

It’s 31 degrees, and is very dark out there.

There was nothing in the mailbox again.

I have received very little mail this month, I can only recall one piece of advertising mail for a automotive warranty protection program insurance this month in the mail so far. There has been none of the usual mail in the USPS mailbox with my address on it. Usually, there is a typical mail sort of formula that is used by the mail carriers of “The Stork” terror cell. I am not a terror soldier, so I only know what is considered normal, and what is not normal, but there is more to the mail than that. normal is three pieces of mail, two letter size, and one larger 5 x 7 ish that makes it so you have to fold that one piece of mail to put it in your pocket, otherwise those letter size fit in a pocket. I am sure that plan is to make it such that I will not put the mail in my pocket, but instead will hold the mail in my hand, and in that way, my hands are not free to defend myself on the walk back to the house. The terror bastards really do get that detailed. I always fold that odd piece of mail while at the mail box, to put all of it in my pocket to keep my hands free for the sword fight on the way back to the house. Even if i get magazine size thing, or phone book, that goes in the pants to keep my hands free for defending, There is no other way to survive a walk to the mailbox on Jackpine Drive. So, three pieces, in a two + one arrangement is typical. Wednesdays used to be coupon mailer days, but that is hit or miss of late, inconsistent Wednesday mail. There is a newsprint advertising mailer called “Sneak Peak”, is bad news in every way. It’s extension of the Grants Pass Chamber of Commerce, where all of the advertisers local terror cells who belong to the Chamber of Commerce, and to Club Northwest Gym. Merchant Mailer I think is the name of another newsprint style multi-fold advertising mailer. I used to use them to get (the) wood stove burning, back in the day when i could stay outside long enough to cut some firewood without being shot at by the neighbors. The Sneak Peak’s usually arrive once per month, maybe the Merchant Mailer is a quarterly, it does not arrive every month, is hit or miss, seems inconsistent.

I have a implanted microphone transmitter in my jaw, I can’t turn it off, it’s been broadcasting every sound my body makes since 2011, so, if I say the words “Sneak Peak” while at the mailbox when I get one of those, it’s really bad for me, the terror bastards record every word I say over at the Offensive Monroe Surveillance Travel Trailer, so, I have to refrain from mumbling out loud about everything. It all gets used for fooling federal fools who insist on being fooled all of the time, and refuse to do their own research, by trusting the local authorities, who are all terror soldiers, and are fooling the federal fools, all of the time. The recordings of my voice talking to my cat have been entertaining the federal fools for about ten years. They listen to my coughing fits from the poison gasses, and are told I have COVID 19, and the fools believe everything they are told, as they are watching reruns of The Golden Girls on the syndicated channels.

Other than that, the noisy water well pump at Monroe’s turned on as I passed by that camera that is pointing at my driveway, as it has been doing when I step over that way for about two years. They usually hide the camera, but now it’s sitting on top of the log about five feet away from the fence, and can only see my driveway. They have a pond there that could be nice to look at on camera, but they choose to be Offensive terror bastards instead.

Earlier short walks outside were such that I did not feel it was safe to go to the mailbox, the Monroe’s were using a series of bright lights turning on and off to signal other terror soldier who was hiding in the pole barn, either launched away of nitrous ignition, or it was a gunshot spark that I saw there at about a little after dark. I did not hear any noise, just saw a quick flash after those other bright signaling electric lights in a chicken coup were used to signal that other terror bastard, that I was on a walk outside, and in range.

They read every word I write, so the challenge is that they make the situation so confusing that it cannot be described in a satisfactory way necessary to express the exact kind of threatening activity. Ten different kinds of electric lights, all inside of chicken coups, pole barn, shed, trailer, other stuff all flashing on and off as I take a walk to get my mail, and then there is a gunshot of light also in the mix sometimes, and/or nitrous gas ignition, as i am being poisoned and primed for some other asshole to run me over on a shark maneuver at the mailbox. It’s been some time since there was a shark maneuver, about one week, when Wesely Crowel swerved towards me to run me down at the culvert railing. he and the mail carrier were working with, Chartrands, a Bekins moving truck, Sparacino’s and Monroe’s that day, with Safari terror and African Lions on the loose.

But that’s just a Monday, could happen on a Wednesday, it’s all the same, for twenty years and no one will send any help.

Train came by at 12:03 am. Federal fools will be told I mentioned that for selling some cocaine.

There were no airplane flyovers today to my recollection.

That’s all. Dark and cold with strange mail conditions.

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thisisthestoryofanotherus · 8 years ago

Text

Little Violence- Michael Clifford

"So get the fuck back, I said I'm stealing rock back, so take off with your snapback before you get knocked flat!!!" -Little Violence, Waterparks

(In case you couldn't tell I LOVE the band waterparks so go check them out!)

Sorry this took so long Anon!! I hope you like it! Also this is basically the last of my list for requests, so send me some things!! PLEASE!!

"Excuse me?!" You screamed.

"You're just a pathetic bitch Y/n and everyone knows it!" Your archnemesis Christina said, a smug smirk on her face. Funny how just a few years ago she used to be your best friend. And now…well know you were punching that grin right off her face.

Christina screamed, grabbing her jaw, and lunging after you. You both were a mess of punches, kicks, hair pulling, and screaming. Right in the middle of the school hallway. Soon the crowd around you both doubled, everyone cheering on the girl fight. You had the advantage, finally knocking her down to the floor. You climbed on top of her and started punching, and punching, and punching. By now all you could see was red. Your anger turning everything you saw a deep red.

The bitch thing was the last straw. On an ordinary basis you could care less, and often embraced the nickname of bitch. But you and Christina had deep history. You both were childhood best friends, attached at the hip and doing literally everything together. Then things changed. She got into a different crowd, and so did you. She got into lip gloss and terrorizing people, you found music and met Michael, who you were convinced was the love of your life. It helped that he played music too, even was part of a band, still in their youtube cover days of course.

You both tried to maintain a relationship, but eventually it became clear you both were too different. Eventually you both quit speaking to each other, ignoring and avoiding the other. Then somehow you both began to hate the other. You hated the way she would treat people, and often told her off for it, practically all the time. She hated how you stood up to her, believing in her twisted head she was above everything. She did everything in her power to make your life a living hell, constant pranks, public embarrassments, at one point getting you detention for a whole month.

You finally snapped when she made it seem like everything that went down between you both was completely your fault. Then she called you a bitch, and well that’s how you ended up here…

Even when you heard the sound of some teacher's whistle and felt arms around your waist, pulling you off of Christina, you didn't stop swinging.

"Y/n!! Y/n!! Hey!! HEY!!" Michael said, putting your arms at your side. "It's me! Don't hit me!"

"Michael?" You asked, the red haze beginning to fade, your boyfriend's face coming clear in front of you.

"Hey…you ok?"

"Ya….I….ugh….Christina-" You said turning towards her, reading to lunge at her again

"Ya I know. Hey it's ok. Calm down. But are you sure you're okay? You're bruised like crazy and your cheek is bleeding…" Michael said, pulling you back.

"Really?" You said, pulling your hand to your face. Sure enough there was blood. Funny, since you didn't feel anything, at least not yet. You weren't looking forward to when the adrenaline wore off.

"Although I guess I should be lucky I have you as my girlfriend, because Christina over there is far worse…"

You turned to follow his gaze, seeing your former best friend with a busted lip and a black eye already forming. The school nurse was helping her up, since she was clearly in a lot of pain. You almost felt bad, then she saw you staring and flipped you off. That bitch deserved everything she got.

"That bitch. Ugh! I could hit her again!"

"Hey…Y/n…look at me…" Michael said, pulling you towards him so you looked at him. "Calm down ok?"

"How do you expect me to calm down?! Did you see what she did?!"

"Yes I saw it all, but the principle is already coming over here and you need to be calm enough to explain yourself, not get so much time suspended ya?"

"Ya, but my heart is pounding so hard its gonna fly right out of my chest, and I'm so angry I could-"

Whatever you were going to say was lost from your mind as he kissed you. One of those kisses that made your head blank, solely focused on nothing but his lips against yours, the love he had for you shown in every motion. When you both finally pulled apart, the principle had just reached you.

"My office, NOW!" Principle Myers yelled, face full of rage as they glared at you.

"Wait for me?" You asked Michael.

"Of course. Meet me by my car." He said, giving you a thumbs up.

You rolled your eyes as you follwed Principle Myers down the hall, wondering just how you were going to expalin yourself.

The meeting wasn't too bad, it could have been far worse. The principle was pissed, and had little sympathy for you, but you walked out with only a week of detention so you guessed you should be greatful. Guess it helps you were never in much trouble before.

You walked out of the building scanning the parkinglot for Michael. Luckily for you, he pulled up right in front of you. You jumped in the passenger seat.

"So? How did it go?"

"Well, only got a week of detention so there's that. However my parent's are going to be pissed…I wonder if they've been called yet…"

"They proably won't until they get Christina's side of the story…so for now you're off the hook"

"Ya until I get home"

"Well then let's not take you home"

"Seriously?"

"Just for a couple hours more. Come on it'll just be me and you…and the beach…how does that sound?"

"The nice warm sand, you and me….not having a care and my parents can't reach me…..that sounds like paradise…"

"Well then, let's go!" He laughed as he drove away from all your problems.

******

Thanks for reading!!! -Lydia

#michael clifford #michael 5sos #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford au #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford imagines #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin

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investmart007 · 7 years ago

Text

SANTA FE, Texas | Family, friends recall shooting victims' optimism, humor

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/U0r1NV

SANTA FE, Texas | Family, friends recall shooting victims' optimism, humor

SANTA FE, Texas (AP) — Hardworking. Funny. Loving. Grieving family and friends recalled the endearing qualities of some of the victims of Friday’s mass shooting at a Texas high school, as authorities on Saturday released the names of the 10 killed.

Eight of the 10 were students: Kimberly Vaughan, Shana Fisher, Angelique Ramirez, Christian Riley Garcia, Jared Black, Sabika Sheikh, Christopher Jake Stone and Aaron Kyle McLeod. The other two, Glenda Perkins and Cynthia Tisdale, were teachers.

At least 13 people were injured in the attack at the high school in Santa Fe, which is about 30 miles (50 kilometers) southeast of Houston. A 17-year-old student, Dimitrios Pagourtzis, is being held on murder charges.

Here are some of the victims’ stories: ___ GLENDA PERKINS

Perkins for years had been a substitute teacher at Santa Fe High School, where her grandchildren are students.

Student Jay Mann, a junior, tells the Houston Chronicle she always had a smile on her face, took the time to learn students’ names and became part of the fabric of the school.

Mann says she had a great attitude and “never got mad at anybody for doing something stupid.”

An all-female Galveston Mardi Gras krewe, Tutu Live Krewe, has posted on Facebook that Perkins, along with her daughter, was a member of their marching group. ___ ANGELIQUE RAMIREZ

The senior pastor at Dayspring Church says Ramirez was a member of the Santa Fe church’s youth ministry.

Pastor Brad Drake says she had occasionally accompanied a younger brother to the ministry at the church where her parents are among the some 150 people to attend Sunday services.

Drake on Sunday described the 15-year-old as “a sweet young lady, had a style all of her own.” He says she “almost always had a new hairstyle.”

An aunt, Sylvia Pritchett, said in a Facebook post she has “a broken heart and a soul that just can’t process all this right now.” ___ JARED BLACK

Black turned 17 on Wednesday and was looking forward to a party this weekend at his family’s just-purchased, above-ground swimming pool.

An older brother, Anthony, from Odessa, Texas, was planning to visit with his wife and kids. Jared also had a younger brother, Houston, 13.

The Houston Chronicle reports his family now is planning for his funeral.

His stepfather, Travis Stanich, tells the newspaper Black took daily medication for attention deficit disorder and was quiet and kind and loved art, video games and sci-fi, wrestling and wolves.

Stanich called him “a great kid” who was creative, drew cartoons and loved people. ___ SHANA FISHER

The mother of 16-year-old Shana Fisher believes that her daughter was intentionally targeted by Pagourtzi.

Sadie Rodriguez said Pagourtzis repeatedly made advances toward Fisher in the four months leading up to the shooting. Pagourtzis was an ex-boyfriend of Fisher’s best friend, she said.

“He kept making advances on her and she repeatedly told him no,” said Rodriguez over Facebook Messenger. “He continued to get more aggressive.”

Rodriguez said that the week before the shooting, Fisher “stood up to him” by “embarrass(ing) him in class.” Rodriguez gave no other details.

Rodriguez described her daughter as “shy and sweet” with a passion for video games. Rodriguez shared a video of Fisher from 2015, in which the teen contemplates whether or not she’ll continue making gaming videos because her computer keeps crashing.

The day of the shooting, Rodriguez wrote in a Facebook status to “love like (you’re) getting one more day with them.”

“Anything can happen,” she wrote. “I will no longer get to see my baby my 1st born anymore.” ___ CHRIS STONE

Stone was among a group of students who blocked the door to try to prevent the gunman from entering their art classroom, freshman Abel San Miguel, who was in the class, told The Associated Press.

The shooter fired his shotgun through the door, though, striking Stone in the chest, he said.

Stone was outgoing, “really funny” and had a lot of friends, said Branden Auzston, a 17-year-old junior at Santa Fe High. He said he knew Stone for about three years, and Stone was one of his best friends.

Auzston’s mother, Nicole Auzston, described Stone as a part of her family.

“We would have done anything for him,” she said. “He’s just a great kid.”

Robert Stone told the AP by phone Saturday that his family was grieving his nephew’s death and requested privacy. ___ SABIKA SHEIKH

Abdul Aziz Sheikh was expecting his daughter Sabika to return home to Pakistan in a few weeks for Eid al-Fitr, the three-day holiday marking the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.

Instead, he learned that his oldest child was among those killed in the mass shooting at Santa Fe High School, where Sabika arrived as an exchange student last August.

Surrounded by mourning friends and family at his home in Karachi on Saturday, Abdul Aziz Sheikh fought back tears as he relived his frantic efforts to check whether his daughter was safe half a world away. She wasn’t returning his calls and neither were her friends. He eventually learned from the exchange program that she was among the dead.

“We are still in a state of denial. We can’t believe it. It’s like a nightmare,” Sheikh told The Associated Press.

He said his daughter was a hard-working and accomplished student who aspired to work in civil service, hoping one day to join Pakistan’s Foreign Office.

“One should not lose his heart by such kind of incidents,” he said. “One should not stop going for education to the U.S. or U.K., or China, or anywhere. One must go for education undeterred. But controlling such incidents is the responsibility of the respective governments.” ___ CYNTHIA TISDALE

Leia Olinde said Tisdale, her aunt and a substitute teacher at the school, was like a mother to her and helped her shop for wedding dresses last year.

“She helped me put it on, she helped fix my hair,” Olinde said through tears. “She was wonderful. She was just so loving,” said Olinde, 25. “I’ve never met a woman who loved her family so much.”

She said Tisdale was married to her husband for close to 40 years and that they had three children and eight grandchildren.

Tisdale’s house was the center of family gatherings and she loved cooking Thanksgiving dinner and decorating her house, Olinde said. Olinde’s fiance, Eric Sanders, said of Tisdale that “words don’t explain her lust for life and the joy she got from helping people.” ___ AARON KYLE MCLEOD

McLeod, a freshman who went by Kyle, could always be counted on to make light of any situation, said close friend Kali Reeves, who added she wouldn’t have been surprised if the 15-year-old “made a joke about getting shot” if he were still alive.

Reeves, 15, said she knew McLeod for years and became close friends with him in the eighth grade. She said he always had a smile on his face and loved to hang out with his friends.

“He was never one to be a sad or down person, he always had to joke or laugh about things,” she said. “He was just outgoing and super sweet. He definitely didn’t deserve this.”

Reeves heard that her friend had been shot as she was evacuating Santa Fe High School. She joked to her boyfriend that if she FaceTimed McLeod, he would have “made a joke about him getting shot,” adding that “he just always looked on the bright side of things.” Reeves said she texted McLeod throughout the day to check up on him. She sent him one final text, saying she hopes he “gets better.”

Shortly after, she checked Facebook and learned he was one of the 10 killed. ___ JOHN BARNES

School police officer John Barnes was shot in the arm when he confronted the gunman. A bullet damaged the bone and a major blood vessel around Barnes’ elbow, which required surgery to repair, said David Marshall, chief nursing officer at the University of Texas Medical Branch.

Barnes was the first to engage Pagourtzis, according to Marshall. Walter Braun, the school district’s chief of police, said Saturday that the last he had heard, Barnes was in critical condition. ___ ROME SHUBERT

Sophomore baseball player Rome Shubert said the gunman walked into his classroom and tossed something onto desks.

Shubert told the Houston Chronicle that he then heard “three loud pops” before the attacker fled into the hall. Shubert said he realized he’d been wounded as he was running out the back door.

Shubert said he was hit in the back of his head with what he says was a bullet, but that it “missed everything vital.” He also tweeted that he was OK and stable. ___ Zimmerman reported from Springfield, Illinois. Associated Press writers Sudhin Thanawala in San Francisco and Amanda Lee Myers in Los Angeles and Michael Graczyk in Houston contributed to this report. ___ This story has been corrected to fix the spelling of the suspect’s name in the first segment.

By JUAN LOZANO and SARAH ZIMMERMAN , By Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC(R.A)

#Dimitrios Pagourtzis #Glenda Perkins #Los Angeles and Michael Graczyk #Santa Fe #Texas #Texas high school #TodayNews

0 notes

the-slasher-files · 4 years ago

Note

Lester n Vincent ( hcs) reacting to reader who is having a really bad anxiety attack and they pass out in their arms please and happy new year 🥺✨

Congrats you're my first person to request Lester lol Happy new year to you as well!... Ok so I went kind of wild with these and made them longer story based hcs, also added more slashers just for fun :) Hopefully I did Lester justice since this is my first write for him! Also warning, there is gore, blood and stress lol.. enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS REACT TO S/O THAT HAS A PANIC ATTACK

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT and LESTER

JASON VOORHEES

It was a night you saw him kill for the first time. The blood covered the branches of the bushes and oozed in the soil around you. The moonlight illuminated the plastic hockey mask now sprayed in a crimson paint, his chest rose and fell deeply, enough to see some bones sticking out from unhealed wounds.

At Jason’s feet were 3 teenagers' corpses. You knew what he did but seeing the bodies be brutally cut down 10 feet away from you was another story.

When you had woken up from a nap Jason was gone, he didn’t tell you people had been at the camp, if he did you would not have been on this walk in the first place, but you knew he would never wake you up. The words stupid, stupid, stupid screamed in your brain as you watched the bodies twitch and pour streams of blood. Would Jason be mad at you? Would he hurt you too? oh my god is that person really dead or still breathing?

You started to breathe heavy and choke when they caught the back of your throat violently, Jason moved towards you slowly. Even though you knew how gentle he was with you, you still questioned him at this moment; the blood flowing beneath boots, the smell of rich dirt and copper, the way the nature fell eerily silent following the high pitched wails of the victims, and the way the creature tore through the bodies with ease. It was all so animalistic. Wicked and ruthless.

Locking eyes with Jason you walked back a few steps, his blue eyes were dark, pupils blown with something you had never seen before, this was the killer of camp crystal lake. Throwing his machete to the ground he held out his large hands, gently pulling up his mask as if that might help.

Your throat was closing and hot tears started to flow down your cheeks, broken gasps and whimpers rose from your chest as Jason stood towering over you.

“J-jay..” you cried and felt yourself go lightheaded as his large bloodied hand reached for you, one last tough inhale and your world went black.

Coming to, you were in the cabin, with the fire roaring and about 3 blankets on top of you. A large shadow stirred from the kitchen and came into the light. It was Jason with a hot towel and your favourite drink, softly he smiled rushing to your side. He was maskless and all cleaned up, looking under the blanket you were just in your underwear and a t-shirt, cleaned from any blood.

Kneeling down beside you Jason gingerly brushed a few stray hairs from your face and kissed your forehead. You could tell by the way he lingered and how soft his touch was that you scared him and made him worry. Pressing his forehead against yours Jason squeezed his eyes almost trying to tell you that it hurt, you hurt his heart, scared him so badly and made his nightmares come true. It wasn’t your fault he knew and made you aware of that by his touches and kisses.

The sight of you sprayed with blood and going limp under his grasp was something Jason had only seen in the darkest corners of his mind. He is making sure you stay put and knows exactly where he is going next time.

MICHAEL MYERS

The door creaked open to the bedroom, you had been laying there for a while in and out of sleep, just waiting for Michael’s return. He never slept well, so often Michael found himself lurking in the shadows of the night, or just watching some tv downstairs not wanting to disturb you.

Rolling over you squinted, trying to see in the darkness “Michael..” you whined, reaching out slightly into the shadows.

Soft eyes started to adjust to the darkness and you were met with eyes that weren’t the cold gaze of your lovers, they were alive with curiosity and there was a different maliciousness. This was a much different predator, one the shadows rejected and gave up to you. It was a smaller man in height and muscle, dressed head to toe in black tight-fitting clothes.

A scream left your lips and you tried to scramble away when gloved hands grabbed your ankles pulling you closer to the stranger. His body weight leaned against your frame, his smell revoltingly encapsulated yours; sure to the average person he might've smelled nice but you only had taste for one dangerous cologne, the one of rich copper and animalistic musk.

Kicking and screaming only one name left your lips, "Michael". It was the only thought you had. You knew Michael would come for you, he always did in bad situations. Your scream was his soft siren call and he was the broken sailor beckoned; however, it was much more possessive and raw than that. Michael never liked his things to be tampered with. You were his and that was that.

The stranger above you reached in his pockets and found some zip ties, struggling but bounding your legs and wrists together. “what a little fighter” His words sharp and almost making you gag.

Your breath became more and more ragged, blood pumping and heart racing loudly in your ears, while streams of tears flowed. Crippled whimpers and wails caught in your throat more and more with each stroke of the stranger's gloved hands.

That’s when something stirred in the hallway, a flash of navy and white them seamlessly blending into the shadows like a perfected craft. This was his art, not the strangers. “You should be afraid” you choked out. The man gave a laugh “of what?”

“Of me” a deep growl spoke from the shadows. The man widened his eyes looking directly into yours, as Michael reached around and slit his throat from ear to ear. Blood spraying over you, the bed and running a deep crimson river to the floor, choking and deep gurgles filled the air. You watched the life drain from the man's green eyes and he reached out for you to help him ironically. Michael grabbed the man looking him in the eyes, feeding his own sick desires of watching a soul leave the body or maybe wanting the stranger to meet the cold inhumane gaze, making him terrified as he died.

Even though you knew the more than tense situation was over, you just witnessed a man die; he was bleeding, clutching his throat fruitlessly, life leaving his eyes and grabbing for you. It was all too raw and your throat was closing, you could taste the unfamiliar copper on your lips making you shudder in disgust. Michael ripped off the white mask and he propped you up under his knee and one arm, while the other was on his dripping blade.

“Mi-Michael, please” you whimpered against his chest feeling yourself go fuzzy and limp. A rough shake kept you awake for a moment then you saw his knife coming towards you to cut the zip ties and that was it, the world went black.

Waking up, you coughed and sputtered at the warm water that was splashed in your face. You were in the bathtub, warm pinkish water surrounded you and a large hand cupped your jaw while the other wiped some blood away from you and rubbed at the marks on your wrists.

Meeting Michael’s cold gaze, it wasn’t cold, it was oddly warm still with that edge that his damaged eye gave him. “Baby” you whispered reaching a shaky hand to run along his cheek and sharp jaw. Michael didn’t turn away or roughly remove your hand like normal, he allowed your touch and leaned into it, closing his eyes and whispering barely audible “I’m sorry”

BO SINCLAIR

The screams and gunshots had stopped. Only the muffled classical music flowed from the basement where Vincent was working. Usually, Bo would come immediately back home, dragging his bloodied adrenaline-filled frame through the front door. 10 minutes went by then another and another. You began to grow worried and sick to your stomach with anxiety.

Hesitantly you grabbed one of Bo's jackets and heading out to the garage. The familiar scent of ash, teakwood and grease eased you enough to walk down the dimly lit abandoned streets.

Rounding a corner, from the shadows a man reached out for you, it was a man you had seen from this morning and left with Bo in the gas station. He was still alive, covered in blood but still alive. The man pulled you against the wall of the old building. Your heart pounded in your skull and your breath became broken and hitched, hearing footsteps pounding towards you the man whipped you around, placing you in front of him like a shield.

You met the dangerous baby blues of Bo, he was seething, shoulders tensed, neck stiff with veins popping and hands on his shotgun. "Let. Her. Go." Bo's words coated in venom, a wickedness you had never heard before. "Bo" you whimpered as the stranger tightened his hold on you, now placing a sliver shiv to your collar bone.

"If you let me leave, I will let her go.." the stranger negotiated. "We both know that can't happen... how ‘bout you let her go and I won't make ya suffer" Bo shifted his hand on the gun and the stranger raised the blade to your chin, your tears were uncontrolled at this point, silently pleading with Bo to do whatever the man said. "Fuck.. Alright, alright" Bo began to place the gun on the ground slowly, but nodded twice at you, a signal he practiced with you, closing your eyes and inhaling as much as you could, you knew what you had to do. Do what Bo taught you, just in case this might ever happen.

With one quick motion you grabbed the man's wrist pulling and twisting, using your hip to fuel momentum, yanking the man down in a struggle you managed to grab the blade and stab into his neck. At this point it was just adrenaline, you were never supposed to actually kill him, Bo taught you just to wait, but the damage had been done. Blood was on your hands, oozing and spraying with each thump of the man's heart. The scared look in his eyes made you wanna choke, you would never forget this. The whole scene was too raw. You had just killed a man.

Quickly Bo came to your side and beat the strangers' skull in with the end of his shotgun, it was brutal, gory, unmerciful assault. He was gone but Bo was lost in rage, the man touched and threatened what was his.

“Bo... Bo p-please, Bo” your cried pushing yourself along the cold asphalt. Whipping around Bo was not human, he was a beast, covered in blood, huffing and bearing his teeth. “Bo enough” you shook frozen in his gaze “B-baby” whispering to try and bring him back. Bo dropped the bloody gun and stepped towards you, kneeling down he held you, felt every broken gasp and shake. The scene replayed in your head over and over again, suddenly you gave a whimper and felt yourself go limp under Bo’s grasp.

Waking up your eyes adjusted to the warm yellow lighting of the old house, loud footsteps moved in a pattern, back and forth Bo paced until there was some muffled yelling “What do you mean there is nothing you can do?!... she just went limp... Fuck I don’t know... how could she just be fine?!” You let out a whimper and shifted on the old couch and Bo practically ran to you, cupping your face gently but always with a rough edge. His eyes were red, possibly from tears or adrenaline, he shook and breathed heavily.

“Baby, don’t ever do that again!” Bo yelled, most likely rougher than he initially intended but he kissed your forehead gingerly. “You scared the shit outta me!” You knew his yelling was just his fear. The nightmare of losing you could’ve come true tonight, and once the adrenaline wore off you knew he would be gentle again and hold you all night.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Coming home from a shitty day your anxiety was already higher than normal, you labelled papers wrong at work and just couldn't seem to do anything right today; All you wanted was to just get comfy with some bad food and lay in your boyfriend's arms, forgetting the world. Carrying your exhausted stressed body into the old home, it was quiet; Bo must have been at the garage and maybe Vincent was downstairs.

Tossing your bags and shoes off to the side, you made your way to the basement, guided by candlelight. The eerie silence, the hot air and the creepy faces in the wall made a less than relaxing atmosphere. With each creek of the stairs, your heart seemed to race faster, even though you had made your way down these stairs hundreds of times before there was a different energy here, one with malice, one that drew tingles up your spine.

Rounding the corner, Vincent stood behind some sort of contraption made of metal and leftover medical supplies. The structure held a wax-coated body, one of the men you had lured into town yesterday. Vincent had always kept you away from the making of his creations, it was a brutal process, especially when he usually left the victims alive, Bo said “it gave them more expression if they’re still livin”

Vincent was lost in focus, smoothing the skin and creating delicate textures, if you didn’t know it was a real life person under the wax it honestly might have been soothing to watch, but you swallowed hard at the reality. You felt your throat started to become scratchy and closed with anxiety, clearing your throat it drew the attention of your boyfriend across the room.

You must’ve scared Vincent by your presence because he jolted the metal structure and there was a loud snap. A deep red oozed from the neck of the wax body and pooling on the floor. Vincent’s blue eye looked down to the body then back to you, watching as you covered your mouth and shook.

Rushing over to you Vincent gently placed a hand in your hair and one on your arm trying to steady you, pulling your chin up you saw the worry on his face under the wax mask. He could feel your ragged breathing, shaking and Vincent could have sworn he heard your heartbeat. Clutching his chest you felt yourself go lightheaded and fall into him, your eyes closed as Vincent held you.

Gingerly opening your eyes you felt a hard body underneath you, the room was dimly lit by the lamp on the bedside table, and you noticed a glass of water was next to the lamp. A hand carded through your hair while the other ran a cool towel against your forehead, Vincent sat up slightly so he could meet your eyes when he noticed you had woken up.

Softly smiling you spoke “Di-Did I pass out?” Vincent just nodded slowly and signed ‘Do you feel ok?’ “yeah.. I think it was just an anxiety attack” Vincent kissed your head as you continued “...and I didn’t each much today” He frowned but nodded again, ‘Stay... I will grab you some food’

LESTER SINCLAIR

“Why the hell is Louisiana so damn hot?” you ask irritably uncomfortable in the truck as Lester came into the drivers side. This morning wasn’t exactly ideal and you got a terrible sleep, Lester tried to help but it just gave you anxiety. You hated these days when just out of nowhere you would feel anxious for simply no reason, but thankfully Lester never blamed you or made you feel bad.

“I know baby girl, it’s s’possed to be in the hundreds all week” He said turning the key making the old truck come to life. Groaning, you tried to roll down the window and it wouldn't budge just adding to the torture "oh man, I forgot to ask Bo to fix that, sorry cupcake" you glared at the name he gave while Lester just laughed rolling down his window.

This morning you decided to drive around with your boyfriend, cleaning up the roads of any roadkill. You had never done it with him before and honestly you kind of felt bad just sitting at home, not ever helping him.

Mindless chatter and laughter made the ride short and Lester tried to distract you from your own anxious mind. Pulling over it was not a pleasant scene, the poor thing was bent and broken with blood smeared all over the road. “oh my god Lester... poor little deer” you stood back allowing Lester to pull the deer over by the truck.

“Necks broke.. the thing didn’t suffer” Lester gave you a gentle smile and nodded trying to make light of his gory job. “Ready?” he asked as you helped lift the deer onto the flatbed of the truck.

Picking up one more deer carcass along the way, you were now headed to ‘the pit’. You had been there only once before, when you met Lester but he had never let you go back since. Even he didn’t stick around the dumping grounds often.

“If ya wanna stay in the truck it’s fine” Lester smiled. “No, no I’m ok” you insisted jumping out of the truck. The smell was unbearable, flies swarmed and the gore was horrifying, especially to an animal lover. Your heart started to race and you felt like throwing up, but you tried to push it away and continue to help Lester dragging the deer into the pit.

“Ya alright?” he asked looking at your frozen figure. There was a hand. A human hand sticking up from the middle of a deer carcass. You couldn’t hear Lester’s calls for you, your heart pounded too hard and your breath seemed to be stuck in your throat. Quickly Lester moved behind you trying to move you away from the scene but suddenly you went limp and passed out.

Coming to, you were laying in some grass, a nice shady spot away far away from the pit. Lester was running toward you with a water bottle from the truck and coming to sit next you, he propped you up on his knee handing you the bottle “Fuck ya scared me baby” the stroked your hair and held you tight. “Sorry Les” you whispered looking into his soft brown eyes. “Don’ be sorry.. I never should’a let ya join” Lester bent down to kiss your cheek and wipe some blood away “Can we just go home and shower?” you giggled.

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