#and billy just goes the extra mile
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#steve has had enough#steve harrington#billy hargrove#harringrove#limp wrist alert#seriously though#steve just trying his best not to get an eyeful#and billy just goes the extra mile#what is his problem#i want to know what the script was like for this scene actually like#if the push and stare at the byers was improvised#i would like to know how this was written#ickyposts
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Could you write slashers with a s/o who’s an artist? You can do with all/any you want but I would specifically like maybe the Sinclairs, Billy Lenz, Brahms and maybe Pinhead?
Slashers x Artist Reader + Pinhead
Micheal Myers:
•Pretends not to care, but he's an artist at heart
•If you sculpt or blind things he will insist on watching you over your shoulders
•Will steal supplies for you whether you ask or not
•if you Draw or paint, it's going on the fridge or wall
•He truly admires your work
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Billy and Stu really just lets you do your thing
•Stu suggest glitter no matter the work or meaning
•Billy Suggests You make a lot of gore pieces
•Both of them will go the extra mile to kill models for you, so you have a subject
•Both Jokingly propose to model nude for you
Thomas Hewitt:
•Loves it when you proudly show him your art
•if you draw/paint on paper, He'll build custom frames So he can hang it up
•If you paint on a canvas, He'll make you canvases so you can make more art
•If you sculpt/Make pottery He'll make a display case for your work
•He's very proudly flaunts it to the family
Bubba Sawyer:
•Shows you his Bone art
•Wants to make art with you
•No matter what you do, He wants to join
•Will be as happy as can be if you make crafts with him or use his supply of bones in your art
Bo Sinclair:
•His Brain immediately connects you to Vincent
•He subconsciously starts treating you like his brother, no matter your relationship with him
•When he goes to other town he grabs you and his brother some supplies
•kinda just plops you down with Vincent and expects you to to get along, especially if you sculpt
•That's about as nice as he can get
Vincent Sinclair:
•He's excited to have somebody who understands
•Will silently sit next to you well both of you work on your craft
•Feels oddly comforting to him
•His family has always been connected by art, even though they're not great people. So having you make art with him solidifies your position as family to him
•shows you his technique with wax working, and wants to teach you how to sculpt with wax
Lester Sinclair:
•pt. 3 of familial bond
•because he didn't receive much attention as a kid, He desperately tried to be an artist to gain favor of his mother
•It didn't click with him the way it clicked with Vincent so he was shoved aside for “real artists”
•If you sit down and make art with him, he will cry
•constantly seeking your validation and praise
•holds your art very dear
Billy Lenz:
•Yet another creature looking over your shoulder
•He's fascinated by your ability to create
•You have hands And he has hands, yet your creations are always different than his
•He's a little jealous
•demands you teach him how to be better
•If you already don't know he'll show you how to crochet in return
Brahms Heelshire:
•In All his time locked away He has had plenty to make art
•He focus on the more classical sides of painting and traditional drawing
•He makes stunning portraits, So if you have a different art style it confuses him
•He's lived his life very sheltered so at first he might not even consider it art
•He later learns how much time and care you put into these works and starts to appreciate your dedication
•He also steals some of them to put up in his room
Hannibal Lecter:
•Very excited
•Starts showing off his own private art collection
•Takes it upon himself to teach you “proper technique”
•Gives you random history lessons on your choice of art form
•buys you very expensive supplies
Will Graham:
•Okay dude
•Doesn’t really care
•Just happy that you're happy
•Secretly admires your work when you are away
•Always make sure your work is safe and undamaged
The Lost Boys:
•Marko is immediately grinning ear to ear
•David pretends not to care
•Dwayne silently watches you
•Paul is all up in your personal space while you work
•No matter what you make or how proud of it you are, It's going in the horde pile with all their other treasures
•Paul and Marko asking you to draw them all the time
•If you do it's being hung up on the wall
Pinhead:
•Another artist in his own way
•He prefers body modification and rigging as his art form
•Will creepy watch you work from a distance
•He’ll give you polite criticism from time to time
•Seeing you so focused and dedicated makes him think of all the other past artists he's met
•Decides fairly quickly that you are his favorite
Thanks for reading <3
#slashers#Michael Myers#michael myers x reader#billy loomis x stu macher x reader#billy and stu#billy loomis#stu macher#Thomas Hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#bubba sawyer#bubba saywer x reader#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#billy lenz#Billy lenz x Reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelsire x reader#Hannibal Lecter#hannibal x reader#will graham x reader#will graham#the lost boys#The Lost Boys x Reader#pinhead#pinhead x reader#reader
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slashers with hanahaki.
a/n: icb this took me like 2 months to finish omg anyways hanahaki is not a trope i personally enjoy but i like writing angst and i think it's an interesting concept and this is. honestly just an excuse to write amanda angst, actually. uhm. first post about slashers :thumbs up: might take time for me to get used to writing them tbh, so this might be short but!! i hope you enjoy it all nonetheless. ignore how long ethan's is. amanda comes with her own special bot so <3 enjoy tht if u use it.
includes: amanda young, quinn bailey, tiffany valentine, billy loomis, bo sinclair, and ethan landry.
warnings: gn!reader, angst, many mentions of vomit and coughing, blood, implied unrequited love (esp in bo's), randomly assigned flowers plucked out of my flower book.
AMANDA YOUNG
If there's one thing about Amanda that isn't hard to miss, it's the fact that she gets very jealous, very easily. It was obvious in the way she almost constantly glared at Lynn whenever the woman was in her line of sight, the way she held no kindness in her voice whenever the two were forced to speak to each other.
Well... it was obvious to John, at least. Even in the state that he was in, the man was nothing if not observant, and he certainly didn't miss the way Amanda's gaze would linger on you and Lynn. He didn't miss the way she would come up with random things for you to do, things that involved you keeping a distance from Lynn.
What John isn't aware of, however, is the fact that each time Amanda goes off alone, it's to cough and vomit up the flowers blooming inside of her. She loves you so much that she can't even be angry when she stares down at the bloodied petals of lavender in her hand as she gasps for breath.
This is her punishment, she thinks. It's her curse, one she'll keep to herself. She loves you, but she doesn't deserve you. If you get too close to her, if she shows that she cares for you, you'll die. They always do, and you're the one person she can't stand to lose.
So she'll keep this to herself. She'll diligently wash the blood off the petals in her hand and she'll put them with the rest, tucked away safely for no one but her to see. She'll let her love be a secret, even if her jealousy boils over.
QUINN BAILEY
Romance isn't something Quinn cares for. She's not interested in falling in love since it doesn't align with her goals of wanting to get revenge for her brother's murder. And you, the best friend of Samantha Carpenter, were meant to be another victim. The plan was to kill you in front of Sam, just to inflict a little extra trauma on her.
But that's not how things were turning out. The more time she spent with you, pretending to be friends with people she planned on killing, the more attached she was starting to become. It was small at first, something she could push aside at any given moment. But you just had to be nice to her.
With everything going on, everyone was always worrying over Sam or Tara, but during it all, you had pulled her to the side to ask how she was handling everything, asking if she was okay. And suddenly, it became harder to push those feelings aside, and camellia petals started forcing their way out of her throat whenever she coughed.
This didn't go unnoticed either, by her family or her 'friends', but she always brushed their concerns off. It's just a little cough, no big deal. But it wasn't. Your time to die was coming up, and Quinn was the one who was supposed to kill you. But now she's hesitating, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a way for you to get out of this alive without risking everything else.
She loves you, as much as she loathes to admit it. She doesn't want to be in love, especially knowing you'll never love her back once you find out who she truly is.
TIFFANY VALENTINE
Pretty much everyone who knows Tiffany knows about her feelings for you. It's not something she bothers to hide, and even she's surprised that you aren't aware of the love that she has for you. Or maybe you're just pretending like you're oblivious? She certainly hopes not.
Either way, the first time she coughs a flower up, she feels... well... she wasn't upset. In her eyes, it was further proof of how much she truly adored you. The petals of pansies that she coughed up were always tucked away in a jar. She probably has like... 4-5 jars full of petals by this point.
She doesn't blame you for any of this either. It's not your fault that she fell in love with you! How could she not? You're you. Anyone could love you. She'd kill them if they did, of course, but her point still stands.
Of course, she's not an idiot. She knows what this means. The constant pain in her throat and the feeling of vomiting up blood and flowers is nothing compared to the pain of knowing you more than likely don't love her back. But it's a pain she's willing to bear if it means having you in her life.
And Tiffany is just... fairly confident that given enough time and patience, you'll love her back, one day. She could (and probably should) give up on you, she knows that, but she doesn't want to. Not yet.
BILLY LOOMIS
Love is not something that comes easily for Billy. He's damn good at faking it, but he tends to disappear the moment he starts feeling like he actually might be growing to love someone. But loving you? It was as easy as breathing, he didn't even notice he had fallen until the roses started falling from his lips. How cliché.
He's really... torn, to be honest, for many reasons. This little illness of flowers could potentially get in the way of his plans, first and foremost. It makes it a lot harder pretending to love Sydney when he starts hacking up stupid fucking rose petals whenever he thinks about you. And god forbid if he has a coughing fit when he's doing Ghostface business.
It's a pain to hide, but Billy is nothing if not determined. Not even Stu knows, that's how badly he wants to keep this a secret. It's not something he plans on hiding forever, of course. Once he's killed Sydney, he'll... probably get around to doing something about the roses piling up in a random shoebox in his room.
The thought of killing you certainly crossed his mind, don't get him wrong. It would probably be much easier having you dead than leaving you alive and dealing with this, but the moment he even processed the thought, he was falling out of bed from the sheer force of the coughing fit that hit him. It's the most roses he's ever thrown up at once, so. He threw that thought out almost immediately.
But he'll definitely play it off and act as if he isn't painfully pining for you if you ever find out about this little predicament. He's too prideful, too hesitant to ever fully commit to a person. The roses bloodied roses in the beat-up box are the closest he'll ever get to confessing his love to you.
BO SINCLAIR
Bo knew letting you live would bite him in the ass one of these days, he just wasn't expecting it to be like this. He knew he had a bit of a soft spot for you, though he loathed to admit it, even when his brothers give him knowing looks.
You just looked so damn perfect, all scared with tears streaming down your face. How could he not want to keep you around a little longer? He just didn't actually expect himself to grow attached. It was supposed to be a sadistic game, a way for him to torture you. Instead, he was the one being tortured.
Tortured by these damn flowers he keeps coughing up. He had to ask Lester what they were, though he obviously didn't mention why. Nobody was going to know about this, not Lester, not Vincent, and certainly not you. This was going to stay between him, and the bloodied petals of honeysuckle that he keeps hidden in the gas station.
He knew well enough that this little problem wasn't just going to go away so easily. Don't get him wrong, if he could kill you, he would. The thought alone is enough to keep him locked in a room, throwing up flowers until he sees dots in his vision. So clearly, he can't. He's undeniably stuck with you now, whether he likes it or not.
What's worse is he'll never have your love. Why would he? You'd be a fool to ever fall in love with him after everything he has put you through. He'll only ever have your fear.
ETHAN LANDRY
He wholeheartedly did not expect to fall in love, especially with someone inside Tara and Sam's friend group. What's worse is that it wasn't a 'normal' way of falling in love either. No, you stole his heart the moment you stabbed him while he was under the mask, growling out a threat so cruel, so gruesome, he was definitely going to steal it in the future.
The wild look in your eyes was a stark contrast to how you usually behaved, and that excited him. Honestly, how could he not fall in love with you after that? With Ghostface, you were aggressive, almost animalistic in the way you would fight for your life. With Ethan, you were concerned for his safety, even if you did eye him with suspicion like everyone else.
The flowers were annoying though, he can't lie. It's not fun coughing up tulips, especially when he's under the mask. It also makes it harder to hide his identity. Ethan honestly doesn't seem like he'd hide his coughing fits from you because he'd probably thrive under your concern. That means that if he slips up and has one when assuming the Ghostface persona, his identity is basically revealed and it ruins everything he and his family have been working for.
He'll make up excuses as to why you can't be killed. You're not even that close to Tara or Sam. Honestly, he wouldn't consider you to be part of the friend group, so your death wouldn't have any impact on them. You've unintentionally helped them with their plans by being Ethan's alibi whenever it wasn't him under the mask, so killing you just wouldn't make sense. He's not exactly the best at hiding his feelings for you.
And Ethan is well aware that given his second identity, he'll never have a chance with you. The moment the inevitable unmasking happens, he'll lose any kindness you may hold for him. That thought alone is enough to make the tulips force their way out of his throat, but he won't lie... it's exciting to think about how you might react once it's revealed that he's Ghostface.
#alright new tags babyyyyy#amanda young x reader#quinn bailey x reader#tiffany valentine x reader#billy loomis x reader#bo sinclair x reader#ethan landry x reader#ghostface x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x reader#that's it right#gonna assume so
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I saw a post a second ago by @billyharringson talking about how they have written a lot of fics where Steve is The Normal One and they were having a hard time thinking of a good monster form to give him, and it got me thinking.
In a lot of fics I’ve read, Steve is “normal” or at least pretending to be. People like to write him as masking a lot of traits, or losing the skill to mask when he isn’t in the King Steve spotlight, and it comes off as very chameleon-like to me.
I think if I were to make a monster Steve, he’d be a shapeshifter for sure.
I mean like, his go-to coping mechanism when he is stressed is to pretend like everything is all fine and normal, just business as usual. His friends in season one are all shallow, mean, and fake. All of the girls he’s ever dated were all short lived, skin deep relationships, who might have just expected sex and casual fun, which may have been why they didn’t last long.
I think shapeshifter Steve would be attracted to people who share his trait of wearing masks/pretending to be someone else, whether he realizes it or not.
Canon-wise there’s Nancy who, in my opinion, is a selfish person but she hides that trait around people she either likes or who she wants to like her. Then there’s Robin, who is a closeted lesbian. Enough said.
When it comes to ships you have Billy, who is always using his bad boy persona to hide how sensitive and fragile he is, as well as the abuse he gets put through. Eddie, on the other hand, puts up a front as being a freak to scare off people who he doesn’t like, but he’s generally pretty harmless and cool.
I just really, really like the idea of Steve being Just A Character made up by a creature that has taken little bits and pieces from people, pictures, celebrities, and stories and sewn it all together to create the perfect costume for itself. But this is a skill that had to be built up and sharpened over time. I love love LOVE the idea of moments where Steve would do something or his voice would warp or break or his face or body would look a little off in such a way that it sets off those uncanny valley alarm bells in peoples heads. The idea of some big, tall, lanky, misshapen, barely even humanoid (or not even vaguely resembling a human at all) FUCKING THING squishing and squeezing itself into the shape of “Just Some Guy” and naming itself Steve just goes so fucking hard for me. Don’t even get me started on the idea of That Thing then going the extra mile to make “Steve” into a popular kid that all the girls wanna fuck and all the guys wanna be, purely for the validation. Purely to feel real.
#steve harrington#billy hargrove#eddie munson#harringrove#metal sandwich#monster Steve Harrington#my writing
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Heyyy, I just found you and followed❤️ could I request a billy Hargrove x reader where they argue one night and so she goes and stays the night with Eddie and somehow billy finds out where she’s at and shows up in the middle of the night and is like fuck no she’s mine and then him and Eddie argue over her and whatever else you wanna add and end how you want ofc I’m just a sucker for jealous/ angry billy
Omgg!! Hello lovelyyyy! I appreciate the follow!! thanks so much for requesting!
anddddd i made a tiny ittyyy bitty tweak to this because I felt like a little bit of angst today (sorry in advance)
warnings: Jealous!Billy, billy thinks reader is cheating, yelling, slight* panic attack for Billy (idk not really but), fluff, angst, hurt comfort :)
Some Things, Will Never Change.
You were dreaming. You just had to be. In no universe would Billy just accuse you of cheating so blatantly. You thought you had gained his trust, but apparently, old habits die hard. "I can't believe you." Billy seethes pacing in the kitchen slamming the refrigerator door open. You winced, annoyed at the noise that echoed through the dim house, When you had got home from your summer job at the arcade, You decided to pay Billy a visit. You were starting to regret that decision. "Believe what." You spit out starting to get angry at the haughty tone he was using towards you. "You playing around." Billy says eyes narrowed. "Don't think I haven't seen you flirting with that FREAK Munson." Billy growls, throwing his soda can on the table. You sigh as it bursts, eyes following the trail of carmel liquid to the floor. "I wasn't flirting Billy, He came in searching for Max and her friends, he couldn't find them so he asked me." You grit.
"You know, asking like a sensible adult. Like you should be about this situation." You say eerily calm. Billy's anger lights up like a firework at the insult. "fuck off," he growls again. "Maybe if ya didn't parade yourself around I wouldn't have to worry." Your eyes widen at his vulgar sentence. "Shut up." Your mouth hangs open "William Hargrove, don't you dare act like you don't flirt with every single fucking girl in our fucking school. AND don't you fucking dare act like I don't fucking tolerate your dumbass shit." Your screaming now. Not one to back down from mistreatment from anyone, even your boyfriend. "Then for shit's sake leave if you don't like it!" Billy shouts at you seeing nothing but red. "Don't let the door hit you in your fucking ass on the way out either!" He roars as you grab your purse and slam the door hard on the way out.
Your tearing up slightly as you get in your car. Who knows how many miles above the speed limit your driving, but your route takes you to one of your closest friend's home, who also happens to be the cause of the argument... Eddie. Knocking on his trailer door you hear a drowsy "It's open" rouse from beyond the door. Eddie's honeyed eyes light up as you drag yourself in, but quickly dim noticing you're crying. "oh my god, sweetheart what's wrong?" you sniffle louder as he calls you the pet name Billy usually does. As he pulls you into his arms, you are reminded of how Billy's frame feels wrapped around yours, and you start bawling. The whole shebang. Complete waterworks in Eddie's arms while he tries to comfort you. "Billy-mfg-Billy hates m-me" You hiccup out.
Eddie smiles bitterly. "oh honey..." Eddie trails off not knowing what to say. "Can I just... stay here." You cut off his pitiful comfort attempt quickly, feeling like a burden already. Eddie fumbles on his words, scratching his head awkwardly as he nods "Shit-of course-uh-hell-I don't really have an extra bed or anything but I can uhm- sleep on the couch... yeah." You laugh softly at his ramble. "I'm not a princess Eddie," you sigh, "I can sleep on the couch it's fine, truly." you continue as you see a look of protest on his face. He shakes his head "I'm trying to be a gentleman here excuse you." Eddie grins boyishly, and you don't know why. It could be nerves. It could be the emotional buildup from tonight. But your heart leaps. swoons even. And with a sickening resolve, you realize Billy's argument had, unfortunately, made valid sense. However, shaking your head at the thought, you let Eddie drag you towards his room to pick out a movie to watch.
Eddie's company had proven beneficial to your mood. A mere hour into the movie and your mind was elsewhere, far away from the argument you had with Billy as you two joked about last school year, munching on various health deleterious snacks that were found in Eddie's fridge. "And then she had the AUDACITY to call me 'late for class' and told me that I had to retake the whole course!" Eddie yells in indignation as you clutch your sides from laughter. "You chose to come in through the window Eddie, what was she gonna do? tip her hat and say 'pip pip cheerio' while she was teaching about the American revolution?" You cackle as Eddie slumps back on the couch snickering. Your laughter cuts short as you hear the roar of an engine.
Billy's camaro.
You panic. How could you not. Here you were with the exact boy who had caused the argument. And you knew how Billy would react to such a turn of events. To put it lightly, violence would be involved. Before you can voice your fears however, Eddie's front door slams open. You try to scream as Billy in an angered blur hurls past you and starts throwing punches, tackling Eddie, who is cussing, to the floor. "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER YOU SON OF A BIT-" Billy is cut of when Eddie lands a hard punch to his gut, grimacing as he wipes his bloodied nose. "Dude!" Eddie barks "You're so full of it you don't even know what SHE'S FEELING!" Eddie spins on you pointing trying to reason with him. "I don't even want her like that man. She's your girlfriend dude so how 'bout you BLOODY listen to her feelings maybe then she wouldn't come to me dipshit!" Eddie swears once more as Billy charges at him "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he roars as he takes a winding swing. A sickening crack issues and Eddie falls to the floor holding his nose "Fucking shit Hargrove," Eddie pants from the ground.
You realize your crying when a sob lurches out of you. Hot, thick tears streaming down your face. God how you wished to be anywhere else in the world. far far far away. It's enough to take Billy out of his angered trance, as your breathing comes out in short pants. "leave him alone Billy. I'll come back with you. Hell I don't care, just stop hurting him." you say quietly turning to the door sighing. It hurt really. So much that you couldn't feel as you lurched your way to the car. As you opened the door to leave, you glance back at Billy who's staring wide eyed, almost a look of sickened fear on his face. His usual sun kissed complexion looked paled, and gaunt. "You don't deserve her Hargrove." Eddie's gravelly voice is the last thing you hear before you shut the door behind you and drive back to Billy's house.
You don't look to see If he follows you.
It's late. You knew that for sure. The sun didn't even seem to have set before you were engulfed in a night that matched your feelings. The rain was howling outside as you sat at the lamp lit table in a witchy town you wanted desperately to forget about. The only thing that was making noise in the house was the clock. The dull ticking was a comfort. A reminder to you that some things will never change.
A comfort. you remind yourself closing your eyes. Heaving in a breath you didn't know you were holding.
tick. tick. tick. tick.
It was those four seconds you would remember till the end times.
Those four seconds in which Billy came into the room, looked you in the eyes and then crumbled. Simply melted to the ground, back against the fridge. "I'm so sorry." he said simply. You show no sign of emotion as you are unchanging, and to be frank, unflattered.
As you stiffen.
he notices.
He takes into account that your usual happy, touchy, aura is gone. He realizes he's the one that caused this. He realizes that he could lose one of the only things he's loved. He realizes you could hate him. He realizes you probably do hate him. He realizes he might never feel truly loved again. He realizes that he will never love like this again. He realizes you have been one of the only people to truly care about him. He realizes he has told you his deepest secrets. He realizes how blank your usually love filled stare is. He realizes he hates himself for this. He realizes that it feels like his heart is being ripped out.
The last thing Billy realizes is that he's sobbing.
Crying harder than he's ever cried before. Crying so hard he's shaking. He can't breathe. Why would he want to anyway. Everything hurts. It hurts so so so so bad. He would rather suffocate than lose you. He's hiccuping and thinking of every single time he's done something wrong. It only worsens as he feels your hand rub on his back as you kiss his hair "Your okay my love, it's okay... you need to breathe for me darling... deep breaths." a hard shiver racks his body at your words.
"my love" you had said.
Billy doesn't believe you still love him.
"Please-I" Billy can't get the words out as his throat closes up, hoarse with pain and emotion. The pain increases as you pull him into your chest and he inhales your scent. It feels foreign and familiar all at once.
It feels foreign because he knows he might have to let you go.
"I-I- Don't deserve you- just- I'msorryI'msorry- I hate me so MUCH." Billy sobs into your chest. He flinches as he feels a tear run down his cheek. He's oh so vulnerable. Billy whimpers pathetically into your chest. He doesn't hear the sweet nothings you coo to him as you yourself let tears flow. He's broken. you both know it. There's nothing you can do about it except try to fix the boy in front of you.
And you are.
You're trying so hard to fit the puzzle pieces back together. Billy's breathing evens out as he notices he's not the one shaking anymore. It's you who is rocking him gently in your arms. His eyes flutter as your nails scratch gently at his scalp. "You deserve love Billy." his eyes roll slightly as he hears your honeyed voice. Your voice was addictive, he thought as the thoughts whirring in his brain start to slow. Billy is focusing on the steady beat of your heart. "Let me love you." Your sweet sensual drawl is back. Billy grimaces. Cringing at how much he feels for you right now. "You still love me?" His gravelly even voice startles you. It's deep, milky, and stoic. You would've never guessed he had even cried. "Always." You say pulling him closer to you.
"Forever." You ghost into the quiet room. A small whine graces Billy's parted lips at your words. You made him feel so good. "I love you." comes the deep reply. Billy is looking up at you. Icy darkened eyes concealed by his hooded eyelids. Your mind reels, you think you've forgotten how to breathe. You'd never get used to hearing that from him. It made your heart swell every time he would say it. every. single. time.
"I love you too." you say it full of meaning. It's like a promise. A promise to hold him for as long as he needs. A promise to be there when no one else is. A promise to simply love him. You don't think you could want to promise something more than this.
A calm, needed silence enters the room, as Billy tilts up his head to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, wanting to get drunk on the feeling of his body against yours. The last thing you allow yourself to think about before you give in to the godly pleasure of Billy, Is the clock.
tick.tick.tick.tick.
Some things, will never change.
And you hoped to God, your love was one of them.
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a/n: IM SOSOSOOSOOSOSO sorry it took this long. first i had a performance to end my acting classes out and after that i had to take a mental health break. I really hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for requesting and reading my love <3
#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove x female!reader#stranger things billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove angst#billy hargove smut#billy my beloved#billy stranger things#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargrove fandom
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Is the end scene of S4 actually Will's "Vecna vision"?
I just want to quick point out that this possibility was first pointed out by @heroesbyler in this post. I'll be adding some of my own evidence to Stav's original idea, as well as doing some theorizing.
So we know S5 is going to pick up right where S4 left off. We also know that S5 is action-packed from the start. Let's take a look at the final scene of S4, starting from when Will feels Vecna outside Hopper's cabin.
Look how warm the lighting is in this scene! It has warm hues, particularly yellow and orange. However, the minute Will feels Vecna in the back of his neck, the lighting immediately changes.
The scene becomes much darker, the lighting turning towards a blue/grey hue. This is the moment I believe Will entered his trance from Vecna. Let's take a look at the lighting in the scene where Max entered her Vecna vision.
Look familiar? The scene starts out in very bright lighting then quickly shifts to darkness. Why isn't the lighting for Will's vision so starkly different? It's because this is a plot device to throw off the audience's suspicions after S4. No one expected Will to get tranced right at the end. No one would expect the scenes they believe to be real to actually be fabricated by Vecna. It's called suspense! It's a stunning plot twist!
This isn't my only evidence though. Another strange thing about the final scene is that the grass/flowers are decaying right in front of the characters' eyes. El picks up a flower and it disentegrates to pieces. That seems weird, given how far they're standing from a gate.
The nearest gate is way in the distance, perhaps even a mile away. Why is only the grass by the characters rotting? The ground by other gates we've seen looks perfectly normal.
I believe this is because where Vecna goes, things rot. Think back to Chrissy's vision. The table of food she runs across is rotted and decaying. The pit Fred falls into also is rotting and greyish. It's hard to tell with Max's vision, since the entire ground is covered by fog. Yet we can probably assume that where Vecna walks (or around him) is where the ground rots, just like what we see only near the characters in the final scene of S4.
Extra Byler theory about Will's vision:
The final scene makes a big show of Jopper and Jancy holding hands, with Mike and Will standing close to each other, but not touching. There is even a zoom shot on Hopper grabbing Joyce's hand for extra emphasis.
What if Will's vision in S5 starts out with Mike grabbing his hand? Will is startled, but smiles. The camera pans down to their hands linked, only for Mike's hand to fade, replaced by Vecna's. "This is what you've always wanted, right William?" This would be a great parallel to Vecna posing as both Susan and Billy to inflict maximal trauma on Max. Imagine if Vecna is in that final scene, but disguised as Mike.
#this idea is rotating around in my brain like a microwave fr#stav thank you SO MUCH for coming up with this idea <333 it's going right on my s5 bingo fr#byler#will byers#s5 theory#st5#sarah.txt
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Crawfever 1
Plot: You weren’t the first war widow to indulge in this, and young Elvis wasn’t the first young man who justified it…
SUMMARY: I adore the notion that Elvis Freakin’ Presley himself might have shown up at your doorstep to fix your electrical problems in the early 50’s. The concept that all that untapped charisma and talent and beauty could be found just going about his business, helping housewives with their glitches…well, this came out of the imagining of what one such call might look like. And if it devolved into poorly written Southern Gothic literature, blame Eudora Welty. 🥰. Also, A Streetcar Named Desire may have influenced my artistic choice of copious descriptions of sticky southern summers and the *feelings* they can provoke. This hasn’t been proofread by any eyes except my own exhausted ones.
Note: there were three other parts to this but I lost them with my old blog, alas. You can find them on tumblr still on my main blog. 💋
An Electrician Named Elvis
Summer in Memphis is a sticky, windless, oppressive thing, only relieved by the occasional swim, creaking fans and a chilled beverage held to the throat. The ice box is revered as a savior during these months and those nights the electricity shorts out due to the thunderstorms rolling across the Mississippi are spent in anxious fretting that it would turn on again by morning. But by ten o’clock this morning there’s no such luck, even though the lines have been fixed you’ve been told it’s a problem closer in.
Probably in the house.
Exactly the sort of problem your Billy would have solved himself with no extra cost but the odd washer or wire.
But Billy’s not here so instead you’ve got Crown Electric sending out whoever they deem expendable enough to waste on fixing a housewife’s ice box.
If it’s Marvin they send, you just might flip -you appreciate the man but haven’t any patience for that or him. Not today, not on top of milk going rancid and your baby girl having a pathetic breakfast before school. You can’t mend Marvin’s pants any faster for all that he mows your lawn. The lawn you pay him to mow. The lawn he owns as your landlord anyhow -oh and there’s the sound of the Crown truck coming to a stop on the drive.
You recognize that staring at the ice box won’t do much good so you go to the screen door in time to see a whole lotta leg swing out from the drivers seat.
You’re not sure you’ve ever appreciated a pair of legs so much as you do this blazing morning, and as they stretch out you have an epiphany of sympathy for the wolf whistles you yourself have received on windy days.
This pair goes on for miles, and they’re owned by an eager, doll-faced boy.
Heavens, is this his first job? At least it isn’t Marvin and you won’t be pestered about rent or mending, but wether or not a man who favors pink socks under his drab olive work-suit can fix a problem that’s befuddled many a handyman before him -well, that remains to be seen.
He’s halfway up the drive when he catches sight of you behind the screen door, his face animates and he jogs up the rest of the way. Taking the front steps two at a time.
You push the door open.
In the shade of your doorstep his complexion looks softer than any of your sister’s and you’re greeted by the same expression you see each morning when you wake your young daughter up -a desire to please. The effect is a little unsettling on a grown man, so obviously well proportioned, towering over you and decked out in a rough handyman’s attire.
“They said you’ve got an outage ma’am?”
“Yes, couldn’t fix it with the lines apparently.”
“Probably just the lightening shorted somethin’ out.” He assures you, voice going ever so gentle, like he’s comforting someone deeply bereaved.
Like he’s gonna fix all your troubles by turning the ice box and fans back on.
That won’t cure all your troubles, but it would be a start, a way for you to handle the rest.
“May I come in?” He adds softly when you say nothing.
You’re still standing in the doorway, unconsciously guarding it as you’ve been doing since you got that wretched telegram in ‘44. Nine years ago. Nine years and no one but relatives and Marvin when collecting the rent have crossed the threshold since.
Certainly no long limbed boy with hair as black as Billy’s and the intention of helping you around the house. Fixing the house, rather. No, damn it, just the electricity like it’s his job to do.
Just as Billy would have done if Billy were here.
This ain’t Billy, Billy had an earnest, sweet face and none of this boy’s ripe prettiness. Billy never talked softly either.
“Yeah, yeah, of course, right this way -what’s you’re name?”
“Elvis…Presley, ma’am.”
“Welcome to the oven, Elvis.”
The house has become a swampy inferno and though the windows are open the curtains hang limp, there isn’t a breeze between all these houses packed close together. It’s stifling under the low ceiling and whatever fresh look he had maintained flying down the road in his aired-out truck is melting now.
“Downright nasty in here.” He comments, and then he grins at you as the sweat begins to collect atop his cupid’s bow. “No wonder you’re out of sorts.”
“Yeah that’s gotta be it.” You manage to return the grin, ignoring the insinuation, “And spoilt milk always makes me testy.”
“You kept your ice box closed?”
“Sure have.”
“Then it might be alright. Only been off a few hours, right?”
“Since midnight.”
“Well, then, should be fine.” He’s got that comforting voice going on again and you reckon that either there’s an old soul in that daisy fresh face or else he’s spent most of his young life reassuring somebody. Reassurance flows from him naturally, and for once, you don’t feel like shrugging the comfort off.
And there’s a strange clench in your heart at how long it’s been sense you let someone metaphorically pat your back and tell you everything will turn out right. You’ve got lots of relations and a few friends who busy themselves and you with worrying about how you’re gonna manage to raise your daughter, earn a living and climb far enough out of the fog of widowhood to be considered socially acceptable again. It’s nice that some boy who’s never had his guts ripped open overseas wants to restore your ice box to you and make everything alright again. It’s precious that he thinks that’ll do it.
You’ve been pondering too long and now you’ve got a frog lodged in your throat and it ought to be awkward but he doesn’t look away, he just shyly peaks down at you under copious lashes and smiles encouragingly. “The electrical panel is in one of the bedroom closets, I’m guessin’?”
“In the Master.”
“Alright then.”
You usher him back to the stuffy little room that's glowing orange from the drapes trying to block out the noonday sun.
You’d pulled some clothes out of the closest beforehand to make it easier for him to reach the panel. When you’d done that you were imagining Marvin or man of his stubby frame working on it, but Elvis is unfazed, he just gracefully folds his long limbs into a squat in the tiny cubby and cranes his neck until he level with the panel. He’s got his tool kit balanced on one thigh and he gives you a thumbs up to suggest your presence is no longer needed. He is starting to look as miserably sticky as you feel, his black hair turning somehow darker with sweat.
His lips pucker up as he starts unscrewing a bolt. It’s rather obscene.
“Would you like some lemonade?” You’re offering as you need some yourself.
He looks startled you’re still standing there but after a minute’s hesitation he asks: “is it pipin’ hot?”
You laugh and he immediately looks pleased with himself. Damn, he’s so young. “I’m gonna crack open the ice box” you explain.
His humored look flees and earnest blue eyes go round in protest. “Ma’am I haven’t fixed this yet! I just got in here!”
“I know, silly,” you swat the air at him, “take it as a sign of faith you’ll manage it.”
He grins back, and a man squatting in a sweltering closet oughtn't to look that alluring. You assure yourself it’s just the domesticity of the whole thing. Billy changing a bulb or scrubbing a dish or hanging Christmas lights that one Christmas you had him to yourself -that’s the stuff that made you throw yourself at Billy in the mid afternoon of a balmy work day.
Raven haired young Elvis might work for the electrical company and be earning a commission with each moment of his work day you waste but if you squint a bit, he could be a beautiful boy who wanted to wife you up and give you babies and rub your feet when you’d been on them all day.
Lately you’ve gone out of the habit of assuming someone who looks as fresh as he does would be eyeing up a sweat soaked war widow, but young Mr. Presley had either never been shamed for his lack of subtly or never bothered to hide it because while his looks were tender, they weren’t respectful in the proper sense. You only wished you could see his revering expression as you sauntered away from him back into the kitchen.
The ice box was tolerably cool for having been kept shut. The milk was safe for now but would spoil sooner for the dip in temperature. That waste didn't rankle you as much as it had an hour ago. The thought “that’s alright” actually made it past your lips for the first time in months and you couldn’t help but marvel that you might have lost a bit of your cantankerous streak on the front steps.
With a sudden swoosh and buzz the small pedastol fan on the counter top buzzes back to life and the light in the ice box clicks on.
You whooped “you’ve done it!”
Heavy footfalls came out of the back bedroom and Elvis came into view with a bewildered look on his face: “You haven’t got a A.C. unit ma’am?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Oh you should!” He warmed up to the argument, “They make the air crisper than anything, sucks the river mist right out the air.”
“Not gonna be able to manage that on a war widow’s pension.” You retort nonchalantly, handing him a glass of chilled lemonade which he takes slowly and carefully, eyeing you over the rim.
“So that’s what happened.” He said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“You seem so sad. That’s what started it?”
If he stayed this empathetic for the rest of his life he’d end up burned out and hollow before he hit fifty. He had no business looking out to solve every hurting person’s problems, not when he was so obviously lost himself.
“Three days into the Normandy campaign, at least that’s what they told me.” You've explained your husbands absence many times in the same way, but you aren’t sure you ever had a more sympathetic audience than this boy who is pressing the beaded lemonade glass to his cheek and looking at you like he knows exactly what it’s like to have your sweetheart get burned up by a nazi flamethrower. He doesn’t say a word of comfort on the matter, he doesn’t need to, his eyes show it all and his lips part and he murmurs:
“But he gave you a child?”
“He sure did, bless him. Her name’s June,” your lips quirk up just at the thought of her “my baby girl. She’ll be turning nine, day after tomorrow.”
The sorrow has gone off his face and he looks like he’s scheming now, and somehow that’s the most alarming expression to yet grace his features. He leans in across the kitchen counter, all familiar like, and that’s worse than anything: “Tell me, Mrs. Crawford, yeah, see I caught your name in the directory -but, tell me, does your June like to swim?”
“Loves it almost as much as watermelon.” You know you must look wary, but the last time a man leaned over a bar and eyed you up in this way you ended up married to him. Actually, scratch that. Billy was a darling and a delightful flirt but he didn’t have one ounce of the raw, unconscious danger this boy holds in his pinky finger alone.
“I’ve got a heap of cousins,” he begins quite randomly, “ranging all ages, and we’ve got a watering hole we found just south of town where the trees keep it all cool and the farmer doesn’t mind us so long as we don’t upset the cows. And I’ve got a truck, you see, and I was thinkin’ when you needed to cool off you could come join us. My mama would love to make a picnic out of little June’s birthday, I just know she would. What do you say to that?”
“Mr. Presley, I don’t know you nor your cousins. And I’m sure your mama is real nice but-“
“Right, because I reckon otherwise you get out a lot these days.” You hardly expected that amount of sass coming from his earnest face and it takes you aback.
You try a different route. “Why?”
“Because I’d like to see you smiling and wet from something besides sweat.” It’s a sweet sentiment, if it didn’t come from a man eyeing you up like he has been these past five minutes.
“I don’t know about her birthday,” you give in a little, “my parents always like to be around for it and she likes them to be.”
“Of course, of course” he nods. “And she doesn’t know me.”
“No she doesn’t.” It kills you to turn this down but you aren’t one to go do things your child isn’t interested in in her name.
“Tell her about the swimmin’ hole, then” he says all easy and confident as he straightens himself up from the counter and chugs the lemonade down, “and I’ll be back day after tomorrow with an extra valve so this don’t happen again. No need for it going off every time the rice fields get some rain.”
You’re clutching your glass to your chest and not even the icy chill against your sticky breast can make your heart stop thumping. “You’ve gotta come back?”
“I suppose I could ask Marvin to come instead.” He shrugs a tad too nonchalant, and looks away from you as he maneuvers around you to place his glass in the sink like the good, house tamed boy that he is. Except you’re very afraid you’ve miscalculated and welcomed a wolf in when you thought you were entertaining a lamb.
“How do you know about Marvin?” You demand.
“I work with him?” He replies hesitantly, brows and lips drawn up and eyes glittering with concern at your tone.
“No, no” you smack him lightly on the bicep and realize your mistake when he breaks out into a dimpled smile, “I meant why did you smirk when you said that he could come instead of you?”
“You’d rather your landlord come by and see your still in the back?” He’s cocky now, a hip jutted out against the cabinets.
“How the hell did you notice that?” You cried out, half laughing, half outraged, “You weren’t back in that bedroom longer than ten minutes.”
“I’s just curious what type of moonshine you were makin’.” He mutters, smirk barely wavering. “I’d never judge nobody for how they make ends meet.”
“Alright, you can come back.”
“Marvin talks about you.” He tosses this piece of information out there real cooly. You nearly get whiplash from how fast he changes direction, “Told me you’re a marvelous woman who takes care of the whole block but won’t let no one take care of her.”
You aren’t sure you’re comforted by the fact his tender smile is still in place. But you’re glad that he doesn’t seem to taste an awkward moment when it smacks him in the face. You find you like talking with him about these long neglected subjects.
“Marvin’s alright.” You concede. “He helps me out plenty. And now there’s you. And I thank you for fixing my fans.”
To prove your point turn from him and rest your elbows on the countertop, leaning to push your face up to the blast of the little pedestal fan, letting your hair fly wildly around you.
Somewhere behind you can hear him chuckle. It sounds alarmingly close. “It’s made my day.” You say, voice distorted by the force of the whirring blades.
That’s when you feel him drape himself over you, his chest a centimeter away from your sticky back and an elegant hand on each side of yours against the counter. His voice warbles just as funny thanks to the fan when he says: “Mrs. Crawford, I’m gonna get you a Chrysler air cooling system, just you wait and see.”
Presumably he’s draped himself over the length of you to get in the direct line of the fan’s breeze, but you doubt there’s any other man at Crown Electric who’d dare act on that impulse as he has.
“Oh are ya now?” You don’t even have to try to sound incredulous. You are incredulous he’d dare do this, that he’d read you so well to know you’re starving for a little closeness in this soggy kitchen. “Well, that’s real sweet of you, Elvis. How on earth are you gonna manage that?”
Why he, a stranger, would buy you such a thing is left unasked. Again, it feels domestic and you want to hold onto that fuzzy feeling for a moment longer. Also, you’re desperately trying to keep still, one tiny shift or move and you’ll brush up against some part of him, and at this point you’re not sure there’s an inch of this man that’s benign. Playing along seems safer than trying to disentangle.
His head dips down and the strands of his hair tickle the tips of your ear as his voice drops low:
“I’m gonna make a lotta money, mama.”
“Oh? Is there any money left in Memphis?”
He giggles then, and he never sounded more boyish than when he did that, his voice bouncing off the tinny fan. “Dunno how I’ll manage but it will involve singin” he takes one hand from the countertop and pats your hip familiarly, and right then any bit of deniability on your part goes out the window because you don’t correct him for it.
“‘Cause we’re so short in singers in Memphis?” You tease instead, wishing you sounded less interested. Less gasping.
“Yeaaaaaah baaaaaaaaby” he hollers above you into the fan, laughing again as it spooks you and you jerk back, right into the lanky breadth of him.
There’s a brief wrestling match after that involving you trying to get away from his lithe limbs as fast as you can and him trying to keep you from toppling over by wrapping his lean arms around your shoulders.
That stills you.
No one’s rested their chin atop your head in nearly a decade, and you could sob in frustration that it’s that little motion of his that makes you hungry and angry all at once.
You coulda had this. You had it for one good year. You could have it again if the whole block wouldn’t gape at the fact you were robbing the damn cradle.
Young Mr. Presley seems to have a taste for housewives pushing towards thirty and you aren't too proud to deny you’ve suddenly grown an attraction for sweet boys who just wanna make life sweeter. You two could write a sweet fiction, however brief.
“I wanna see you happy,” he mutters soft in your ear, “tell me you’ll let me come around again.”
“I’ll tell you what, Elvis,” you place your hands atop his forearms, leaning back, “you come around, meet my June, fix that washer business and I’ll feed ya a good meal while you tell her ‘bout that watering hole.”
“Really?” He’s beaming and you crane your neck back further so you can see it clearly. It’s a sight to be admired. “Day after tomorrow, that’ll work?”
“Yeah it’ll do.” His unabashed joy gives you the upper hand for a moment and you do the safe thing, pulling away and giving him a once over. “Tell me, does that nice mama of yours know you go round putting moves on widows?”
He has the audacity to blush at that, looking down at the floor, abashed for the first time since this shameless encounter. “She worries they’ll be the ones putting the moves on me.” And he rolls his eyes as if that sensible woman were delusional.
“Can’t imagine why.” You say dryly. “Now, you scoot, I’ve got mending to do.”
He wakes up at that, grabbing his tool kit and ducking his head not to hit the low ceiling as he makes his way to the front door. You trail after him enjoying the view of something so virile and alive in your house. Since when have men’s waists been so pretty?
“So, see you day after tomorrow?” He looks more vulnerable outside, not so sultry in the glow of blazing sunlight, and the anticipation of somebody wanting to see you puts a pep in your tone, brightens your face -you can feel it, and see it mirrored in his.
“Yeah,” you lean against the frame, “and after that…”
“Yeah?”
You let him fidget, “after that you’ll show me how you plan on getting me that A.C. Unit.”
He snaps his fingers and points at you, “I’ll bring my guitar then.”
“Oh yes, you’d better.”
He’s halfway back to his truck when he spins around and takes a few steps back towards you, “Say, d’you play anything?”
It’s been awhile and you’re rusty but you reckon you’re about to begin indulging in many long abandoned pastimes so you tell him: “Harmonica.”
“Ah,” he sways back on his feet, going back to his truck only to turn, one foot on the runner boards, looking at you admiringly. “You’ve got the lips for it.”
Hope y’all enjoyed. This is a repost from my (currently censored) main blog @precious-little-scoundrel and in turn it’s a repost from the original written over a year ago on my deleted OG Elvis blog @aconflagrationofmyown I want to start collecting my fics here in case anything happens with my main. Xoxo
#elvis presley#elvis fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis x reader#elvis imagine#elvis#elvis smut#baby elvis#army elvis#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presely smut
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Dom Billy/Sub Eddie - Pretty much just an exploration of my preferred Billy/Eddie dynamic.
Explicit smut + aftercare under the cut
Ao3 link
Billy doesn't get a lot of control in his life, who he's with, what he does, where he is, it all seems to be monitored constantly. So when Billy is with Eddie, loud, obnoxious, larger than life, doesn't take shit from nobody Eddie, Billy likes to just take it. Take control, grab him by the jaw and force him on his knees, see him looking up at Billy with those big, pleading eyes, begging like a dog.
Billy can give him what he wants, unbluckle his belt, unbutton his pants, let him feel Billy's cock at the back of his throat, taste his cum, watch as it comes out of his nose, hold him in place as Eddie claws at his hips and thighs, needing to come up for air.
Or he can shove Eddie back on his ass, make him wait for it while Billy flops down on his bed and lights a cigarette. There's nothing Eddie can do about it, it's Billy's choice.
He can jerk him off in front of the mirror, have him come all over Billy's hand. Eddie gets a second to catch his breath before Billy will start fingering him open, abuse his prostate, open him wide until Eddie starts shaking, a second orgasm rolling through his body, gasping Billys name. His hole will be slick and open enough for Billy to slide his cock in with little to no resistance.
By then, Billy will have to keep him upright, an arm wrapped around Eddie's waist, free hand on his throat. He makes Eddie look at himself, see how pathetic he looks, how needy, skin all red and tears in his eyes. "Just one more, Bambi, you got this."
Eddie's third orgasm is dry and silent, his throat moaned and groaned raw. Billy bites down on his neck or shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to make it hurt. He bends Eddie over the desk, let's him go limp as Billy chases his own orgasm.
Billy loves cuffing Eddie to the headboard and riding him painstakingly slow. Eddie will pull at cuffs, wanting to touch, begging for him to go faster. Maybe Billy will deprive him of what Eddie wants, keep rolling his hips at a leisurely pace, have Eddie come from minimal friction. Or maybe he'll obey, ride him fast, come first and deprive Eddie of an orgasm all together. Leave him panting and cuffed while Billy cleans himself up and goes to do something else.
When he comes back, he wraps his hand around Eddie's cock, strokes him until he's hard again, still slow. Eddie's back arches, words spilling from his mouth. "Please please please-" If Billy's feeling extra mean he'll leave again, smiling as Eddie curses at his back. Eddie will go soft again and Billy will come back and he'll leave until he's satisfied, only then will he let Eddie come all over himself.
Sometimes Billy will do what Eddie wants without compliant, hand over control. He'll get on all fours, back arched with Eddie behind him, fucking him fast and hard. Eddie burries is face in Billy's neck or between his shoulder blades, moth shooting off a mile a minute. Eddie knows what he's doing, he always leaves Billy shaking and sore in all the right places, needing a minute to get to himself. He loves it, but he won't let Eddie know that – Eddie probably already knows anyway.
Billy loves it, but it has consequences for Eddie. Billy deprives him of any touch below the waist for however long he sees fit, knowing Eddie won't touch himself, not if Billy won't let him. Eddie bothers Billy constantly, pushing his buttons, asking to be fucked. Billy will relent after a week, maybe two, maybe longer.
He gives no warning, strips Eddie in the middle of his bedroom and bends him over the edge of his bed. He gets on his knees behind Eddie, licks a wet stipe over his hole, spit in it, and plunge in a finger. He'll use nothing but spit as lube, prep Eddie just enough to not do any damage. His hand makes contact with Eddie's ass, making him yelp and leaving an angry red mark.
His cock slides in with a little resistance, slow at first, taking his time to go as far as he can, but the second thrust has Eddie crying out and gripping the sheets.
"Please, Billy, it hurts," he says through sobs, but Billy ignores him, there's only one word that will make him stop and Eddie hasn't said it. He likes this, he wants this, and Billy will fucking give it to him.
Billy's relentless, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out Eddie's cries. He takes a handful of Eddie's hair, calls him a slut, a whore, "Why are you crying, mh? You asked for this."
Eddie comes pathetically fast, tears streaming down his face, Billy makes sure to call him out for it as his thrusts slow.
Billy loves it all, having Eddie surrender in any way possible.
Most of all, Billy loves lying Eddie on his back, legs wrapped around Billy's waist. He'll gently nip at Eddie's neck, swallow his moans, let's the words of endearment into his lungs, his bloodstream, under his skin.
Eddie blindly grabs at nothing, eyes squeezed shut, back arching. "Gonna come," he says, voice thick.
Billy takes one of Eddie's hands in his, interlacing their fingers, coaxes Eddie to open his eyes, wanting to look at him when he comes, to hold him, to be held.
Thick fingers grip at Billy's hair, Eddie's eyes open, glassy, looking right at Billy, his mouth opens and he lets out a string of curse words before they dissipate into a moan. Eddie clenches around Billy and Billy's done for.
Without fail, no matter if Eddie is a drooling mess on the floor or is lying on the sheets, comfortable and blissed out, Billy leaves him, just for a bit, to go the bathroom and wets a towel with warm water or runs them a bath.
He wipes the towel over Eddie's stomach, between his legs, fights Eddie grabbing at his wrists, a weak attempt at pulling Billy closer. Only when he's done does Billy give in, lies next to Eddie and let's him return the favor, his shaking hands sliding the warm towl over Billy's sticky skin.
Or he scoops Eddie up, lifting him up off of whatever surface he's lying on, whether he can walk on his own or not, Eddie won't get on his feet either way. He puts him down in front of the tub and helps him, sitting behind him once Eddie's settled. Eddie rests his head on Billy's shoulders, wraps Billy's arms around his waist.
They stay until the water runs cold, taking their sweet time to wash the cum and sweat of their skin. After letting the water drain from the tub and take a quick shower to get the soap off of them.
Eddie doesn't let go of Billy, not while they dry and not when crawl under the covers.
Eddie looks at him, really looks, tired, half lidded eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. "I love you," he says in the quiet space between them.
He cups Eddie's cheek and kisses with a softness he thought he lost long ago, one that suddenly returned when meeting Eddie and subsequently falling in love with him. "I love you too."
He loves all him, every inch of his skin, his tears, his smiles, his moans. He loves his rambling, his arguing, his off key singing. All of it.
The second Eddie graduates they're out of here, just a few more months before Billy can take Eddie and the few of his belongings to California. He'll make him laugh, fuck him in every motel they stop at, or at side of road, down him in love until he fucking chokes on it.
Billy can choose to whisk Eddie away from this place that doesn't appreciate him enough, he can choose to love him and Billy will be damned before anyone stops him.
#dont tear me apart pretty please#eddie munson#billy hargrove#mungrove#bat writes#bat writes smut#that's a new one#this is just me experimenting with smut cause the only time ive ever managed to write it was in an rp#wanted to find out if i really couldnt do it on my own#so I opened a new notes page and vomited this out in a few hours#dont think its all that good but it could definitely be worse#at least i had fun#thats a win in my book#now hope that tumblr doesnt nuke my whole blog
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Phasing - Re: Leah, Billy, Jacob
[Why Leah didn't phase when the Cullens first returned, was Billy Black ever a wolf and why Jacob phased after the Cullens left]
In the Twilight universe, some members of the Quileute Tribe can 'phase' into werewolves under a few conditions:
They must be a direct descendant of Taha Aki, the first Quileute to phase (early 13th century). These descendants "are born with twenty-four chromosomal pairs rather than the twenty-three pairs of a normal human"
"This extra chromosome will not have any effect on the carrier if he or she is not in close proximity to vampires during all or part of the critical time between the onset of puberty and the age of twenty-five. If the potential werewolf is not exposed to vampires within this window of time, transformation will never occur. It is the scent of the vampires that triggers the reaction.."
When in close proximity to vampires, it is always the youngest in each family's lineage to phase, becoming a "protector" against the vampires
If the youngest member in a given family's lineage is not between the onset of puberty and 25, they will not phase and neither will their parents/elders
(It is "based on two factors: heritage and the proximity of vampires")
The other factors worth considering are:
"One factor affecting which members of the tribe transform is the number of vampire scents in the area"
"... the pack has usually consisted of three members. With most vampires traveling alone or in pairs, there was never a need for more..."
Members with the strongest blood ties phase first. As more vampires are present, tribe members with weaker blood ties start to phase
Until 2006, only male carriers of the gene had gained the ability to transform
The Cullens first moved to Hoquiam (aprx. 100 miles from La Push) in 1936. At this point, the confirmed "protectors" are Ephraim Black, Quil Ateara II and Levi Uley. Tracing their lineages it is probable that none of them had children that had reached transformation age yet. Billy Black was not born until the late 1950's so he obviously couldn't have phased here. However, the Cullens stayed in the area until 2003 when they moved to Forks (only ~16 miles from the Quileutes in La Push). Though Ephraim Black was likely deceased by this time, his grandson Billy was well past 25 (about 50) and Jacob Black was born but was only 13, meaning neither of them could transform (cond. 2).
Let's put a pin in that to quickly talk about Jacob. It makes sense that he didn't phase in 2003 when the Cullens arrived in Forks because he was only 13. But the Cullens left Forks in September of 2005 and Jacob didn't phase until February, 2006. There were only 2 vampires present in Forks when Jacob first phased, Laurent and Victoria. The Cullen family consists of 7 vampires, so why didn't he transform while they were around? Well, the transformation had actually already started before they left. The first sign of transformation in male gene carriers is a "noticeable growth spurt". When Jacob goes to see Bella at the prom in May, 2005 she comments on how much Jacob has grown.
(Twilight, Epilogue)
So this leaves me with one question unanswered. Going back to 2003, when the Cullens moved to Forks, the only Quileute who phased was Sam Uley, who was 17 at the time. But so was Leah Clearwater. So why didn't she also phase? At this point in time, there had never been a female werewolf, but Leah did eventually become the first around March of 2006, also after the Cullens had left. We can assume that the transformation had began before they left, just like Jacob. So the question is:
Why didn't Leah phase when Sam did in 2003?
There is no definitive answer to this that I can find. The real answer is "Smeyer didn't think that far" but, in universe, it seems like female werewolves were supposed to only be possible under exceptional circumstances. Perhaps, it was supposed to be the passing of her father that triggered her transformation, but we can rule that out because, when she first phased, "She was arguing with her mother about her mood swings, and her father joined the conversation in support of her mother. Leah was so angry that her whole body started shaking, and then she exploded into a werewolf...". So if Smeyer's intended reasoning is "exceptional circumstances", she either forgot or there just isn't a real reason, at least not one that I could find.
- Edited for corrections
(Acc. to the official illustrated guide - sections "Werewolves" pg. 298+ and "Timeline" pg. 404+, Twilight and New Moon)
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imagine you've been given the most horrific group project known to man - impossible deadline, difficult content and you'll have to work on it for 3 days straight with the other 3 people in your group. bribery of the lecturer is allowed and assume there are multiple available distractions during those 3 days. assume all of the below have knowledge about this undetermined subject (to varying degrees). who are your top 3 picks for the group project, and who are the 'please god, don't let them be in my group' picks:
1. TK.
2. Carlos.
3. Mateo.
4. Nancy.
5. Marjan.
6. Lou II.
7. Pearce.
8. Judd.
9. Owen.
10. Gwyn (still alive FYI).
11. Tim (the paramedic, not Tim Minear we are not going real life here).
12. Wyatt.
13. Buttercup
14. Billy Tyson
(Paul, Tommy and Grace are excluded because they're in my group project, sorry not sorry).
lola i need you to know this gave me so much joy AJDNSK and sorry for taking like two days to get to this but i had to think.
anyway, top three ‘please god, don’t let them be in my group’ picks: billy and owen (they get a little extra around each other and would get a little too into the project and coming up with ideas, and i feel like the risk factor goes up exponentially just being near them). would also add pearce (even though he used his powers for good the last time we saw him, i can’t imagine he’d be the best team player in such circumstances).
top three picks for my group: marjan (dedicated, would lead us all to victory, willing to go the extra mile—i.e: getting the whole team to read the manual and record it for mateo in the timeframe of one single shift—and could use her firefox privileges as a bit of a bribe), nancy (we all saw her during red vs blue when she put a cop in a chokehold. enough said. she would not be accepting failure as an option), and carlos (experienced in staying up late to solve issues and do so on his personal time. potential con is carlos and i and the chance we might out-anxiety each other, but that’s what marjan and nancy are there for). i’m going to cheat and also adopt buttercup as the team mascot that we somehow sneak in during the presentation for cuteness points. ((honourable mentions: tk because he’s a unicorn, after all, and would probably have some random expansive knowledge on what we’re focusing on, or judd because he’s a bit intimidating when he wants to be and we’d get peripheral grace influence and the southern drawl could come in handy, and gwyn. just…..she’d talk us into getting the best possible mark))
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The slashers taking of there s/o makeup after they come from a nightout because they are to drunk to do it themselves💛
The Slashers removing your makeup for you:
Thomas Hewitt
Of course Thomas will help you. As soon as you ask him to help remove your makeup before you go to bed, he’s there to do so.
He’ll sit with you, gently wiping away your makeup, being extra careful around your eyes.
You’re still drunk so you’re just laughing to yourself, playfully leaning in to give him a little kiss whenever he leans in close. He meets each kiss with a smile, silently laughing and shaking his head at you. Thinking you’re adorable.
He’ll even brush out your hair for you so that you don’t wake up with it all tangled. And he’ll help you get changed into something more comfortable for going to bed with you, holding you as you fall asleep.
Michael Myers
Knowing Michael, he’d probably just let you sleep in it, probably doesn’t even realise that you shouldn’t do that but probably wouldn’t care that much anyway.
So, you’re lucky that he’s helping you remove it in the first place.
Michael likely isn’t going to use your makeup wipes, makeup remover, or whatever it is that you usually use. He’s just going to grab a wet cloth from the bathroom and get to work.
He’ll sit you down, manhandling you into the right position, his hand holding your face still and looking up at him so that he can see what he is doing.
You’re really lucky that he cares enough to do stupid stuff like that.
Then he’ll just haul you over to the bed, dropping you there for the night. This is sweet for Michael, so consider yourself lucky that he didn’t just leave you to sort it all out by yourself.
Jason Voorhees
Jason isn’t a huge fan of drinking in the first place but he just wants to take care of you.
So you end up sitting on his lap as he tenderly removes your make up, just smiling at you when you laugh to yourself.
Once the makeup is off, Jason will carry you off to bed, deciding that you need to get some sleep.
But he will help you into some more comfortable sleepwear first.
Brahms Heelshire
Brahms isn’t sure whether he should be worried or amused by you, he settles for a healthy amount of both. He just smiling at how you cling to him.
He’ll help you up the stairs, laughing a little when you fall down onto the bed.
When you sigh and sit back up, complaining about having to remove your makeup, he just goes to let you before you look up at him, pouting and asking him to help.
You help him with things everyday, so he doesn’t really have a problem with helping you now.
So, he removes your makeup for you, using what you tell him to use and making sure not to be too rough handed.
You end up in bed, cuddling and falling asleep, so Brahms is happy with the end result.
Bo Sinclair
When you first ask for some assistance, Bo scoffs and tells you to do it yourself.
But he eventually gives in because you have more of an effect on him than he would let one.
He’s not exactly gentle, sitting you down in the bathroom and removing your makeup, telling you to sit still.
He’s a little rough, holding your chin and moving your head around so he can see that he’s removed it all.
But he can’t find it within himself to be annoyed with you when you curl up against him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before falling asleep.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent is so gentle with you.
You’ll sit in front of him and he’ll gently lift your chin so that he can work easier.
Using the makeup wipe or remover that you usually use to take off your makeup, making sure to be extra careful around your eyes.
His heart just melts when you drunkenly smile up at him, thanking him for helping you.
He’ll comb through your hair and help you into some comfortable clothes before getting you to bed, just to go that extra mile.
Lester Sinclair
Lester will happily help you take off your makeup when you ask. He actually thinks it’s kinda cute.
So he’ll guide you to the bathroom, sit you down on the closed toilet before helping you.
Will probably just use a damp cloth to remove your makeup unless you have the judgement to point out what you usually use.
He’ll playfully tease you, telling you that you’re going to be hungover in the morning.
He’ll press a kiss to your forehead, before pulling you up and guiding you to the bedroom, telling you that you need to get some sleep.
Bubba Sawyer
Don’t worry, Bubba’s got you!
He’s no stranger to applying or removing makeup, so you’re in good hands.
Of course, he’s very gentle with you, not being rough handed at all.
And he makes sure to get it all, laughing along when it makes you drunkenly giggle.
You thank him by littering kisses all over his face before the two of you go to bed.
Billy Lenz
Of course Billy is happy to help if you need it.
He’ll just grab a cloth or whatever you hand him to use, sitting opposite each other as he removes your makeup.
You’re not staying still and that makes him a little clumsy but neither of you can help but giggle about it.
He might not to a perfect job, most likely not removing all of your eye makeup, but he does enough to stop it from messing with your skin.
Asa Emory (The Collector)
You were probably out with him in the first place, so as soon as you get home he’ll lead you up to the bathroom.
Even if you weren’t out with him, when you get home he’ll look after you.
He will probably make a comment or two, lecturing you a little, but he’s not really that bothered. You’re home safe and that’s all that really matters.
Asa will take care of you, taking your makeup off, brushing your hair out, and getting you ready for bed, making you drink some water first.
He’s surprisingly gentle with you, making sure to clean all the makeup off of your face. If he’s going to do a job, he’s going to do it right.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)
When you come home, Jesse guides you right up to the bathroom.
He’ll lift you up and sit you on the sink, giving you a glass of water, standing between your legs as he removes your makeup for you.
He’s seen you remove your makeup before, so he knows what you use. So, thankfully, he decides to use whatever it is that you use and do it how you do it.
Then he’ll help you get ready for bed before undressing as well and joining you.
If you’ve had your hair styled or something, he’ll even take it out and brush it for you.
In other words, Jesse takes care of you when you’re drunk, you don’t need to worry about a thing.
Otis Driftwood
Otis is probably a little drunk too but seemingly able to hold his drink at least a little better than you.
He planned on just crashing on the bed but you muttered about needing to take your makeup off, even though you were in no state to do so. You wouldn’t make a good job of it anyway.
So Otis huffs, dragging himself out of the bed again to help you. He’ll huff and complain but he doesn’t really mind, he thinks the way you’re smiling up at him is pretty cute so you’re already forgiven.
He’s probably just going to use a wet cloth from the bathroom, shushing you whenever you complain about him being rough handed, and glaring at you when you giggle about it.
Finally, the two of you can just crash on the bed for the night without a problem.
Baby Firefly
The two of you had probably been out together, getting drinks. Maybe she can just handle her drink a little better than you.
But you both get home and try to get to your bedroom quietly.
Baby just laughs fondly as she sits you down to help you remove your makeup.
She ends up straddling your lap to bring herself closer to work, wiping away our makeup.
That’s pretty much as far as you get, pulling on some more comfortable clothes or just stripping out of any uncomfortable clothes before falling onto the bed. The two of you just falling asleep together.
Yautja (Predator)
Your mate is just amused by you and when you mumble something about needing to take your makeup off, he offers to help you.
He’s seen you take off your makeup before so he knows what he should use and what he needs to do, he prides himself on learning all about you and the little human things you do.
He is always careful with you, always worrying that the slightest thing will hurt you, so he’s very gentle as he removes your makeup.
Once he’s done, he’ll carry you to bed so that you can rest, obliging you when you pull him down beside you. Letting you cuddle into his chest before falling asleep.
#thomas hewitt x reader#michael myers x reader#jason voorhees x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#bubba sawyer x reader#billy lenz x reader#asa emory x reader#jesse cromeans x reader#the collector x reader#chromeskull x reader#otis driftwood x reader#baby firefly x reader#yautja x reader#predator x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x reader#slashers#slasher#my writing
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Your writing gives me so much life and wholesome vibes! ;-;💕 If you wouldn't mind could you do the slashers with a s/o who loves to make home cooked meals for them.
Ahhh, thank you so much hun <3 As someone who loves to cook and who’s goal in life is to be a spoiled housewife, absolutely.
-Fern
Slashers x S/O who likes to cook
slight nsfw content if you squint
Michael Myers
This man craves a sense of normalcy in his very peculiar life. After all, he was diagnosed with a case of crazy at a young age and ever since no one had made an effort to care about him. One of the main reasons he would ever keep you around would be because you fit the housewife role that he needs wants. You give him the one thing he always wanted that no one else ever could, domesticity.
Michael has a weird schedule and just sort of comes and goes as he pleases. This can make having a hot meal ready quite difficult, but once you begin a steady routine of cooking for him he starts to appear whenever you’re cooking. Well at least most of the time, stalking and killing can keep him very busy sometimes.
He’s not very picky about what you cook, so you have plenty of freedom to make whatever your heart desires. He’s certainly not going to complain. Although, if you remember his favorite meals and cook them for him from time to time he will be extra grateful. His gratitude is often expressed through becoming very handsy with you.
Likes to watch you cook! Again he loves the whole domestic thing and watching you serve him cook for him pleases him. Plus you just look so cute wearing an apron. Also loves how focused you can be. Don’t expect him to help you though, this is your job y/n.
Pretty sure everyone agrees that Michael has a major sweet tooth so if you bake him sweets he decides you’re never going anywhere… ever. He’s keeping you, end of story.
The only thing he ever helps with in the kitchen is licking the bowl when you bake. Snatches the spoon from you as well, he wants all of it.
Bo Sinclair
Another man that is very much into the housewife thing. Like he gets off on it.
We all know Bo isn’t quite right in the head, but we all love him anyways! He wants someone to serve him, after all he needs to be in charge and to have control over everything. This includes controlling the roles within his own home.
The fact that you willingly cook though and actually enjoy cooking sends him over the moon. He knew that he had made the right decision when he decided to keep you. This just makes him further believe that you were meant to be his.
Home cooked meals remind him of the good parts of his childhood. So watching you cook with an apron tied around your waist while humming and just being content with what you’re doing makes him melt. It’s also going to make him more likely to open up and be a little more vulnerable with you. Watching you cook just puts him at ease.
Cooking his favorite meals though is what really gets to him. Especially if you decide to go all out and be cheesy by “setting the mood” with candles and fancy silverware. He’ll make fun of you and pretend to hate it but the lack of malice in his voice gives him away.
You can often find him standing around the kitchen while you cook as well. This started once you asked him to try something once to see if you needed to add anything. Now he won’t stop waiting around for free samples.
Bo decides that winter is his new favorite season. The shop doesn’t have any heating and he also spends a lot of time chasing victims around the woods or down the streets. In other words, he’s spending a lot of time out in the cold weather. Walking into his warm house to find the sweetest wife in Ambrose putting a hot meal on a plate for him makes his day. Don’t be surprised if he begins to bring up his other ideas about how you can keep him warm.
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent isn’t obsessed with the whole housewife thing the way that Bo is. He could really care less if his s/o cooked or not after all he had survived this long.
But, Vincent often gets lost in his work. This leads to him losing track of time quite often, so skipping meals isn’t something out of the ordinary. It’s not that he means to it’s just so easy for him to forget unless his stomach starts growling.
He does love that you love to cook for him though. Anytime you bring food down to his workshop so that he doesn’t forget to eat he absolutely melts. He doesn’t know how you could be anymore perfect.
Although he doesn’t expect nor necessarily want his significant other to take care of him he does enjoy the fact that you do so anyway. It shows that you care about him in a way that he hasn’t been cared for in a very long time. Especially enjoys the sentiment of you making him his favorite meals. Not only do you take care of him, you take the time to remember the little things about him! He doesn’t think he could possibly feel more loved.
After the first time he watches you cook, he’s hooked. You just look so cute and content in the kitchen. Seeing you so happy and at ease puts him at ease. It lets him know that you’re happy in Ambrose and that you really do love him.
Unlike most of the other slasher, he will help you clean up the kitchen. You two make quick work of all the dishes since you wash them and he dries them and puts them away. It started off with him washing the dishes until he watched you struggle to place plates at the top of a cabinet. Although, he did enjoy being able to press himself against your back while he helped you.
Thomas Hewitt
The fact you love to cook not only delights Thomas, but helps out Luda Mae as well. With you handling the kitchen, it takes one of the most time consuming chores off of her hands. Allowing her both a chance to rest as well as a chance to finally clean up more of the old house. And we all know whatever makes Momma happy makes Thomas happy.
Honestly though, you’re going to have to take up gardening as well. After all the town is pretty much abandoned and there isn’t much to work with. Hope you know recipes for making human meat taste good…
Once again, we have another slasher who’s ideal life involves a housewife. Thomas just wants his life to be normal for once but he also wants someone to truly care about him. He is always the one taking care of other people in the family so having you to take care of him is the one thing that keeps him going.
Thomas works hard and victims are always putting up a tough fight. Since all of Thomas chores take a lot of physical exertion, he always feels like he’s starving at the end of the day. Luckily he has you! You’ve never failed to have a hot meal waiting for him.
Don’t tell Momma, but he thinks that you’re a better cook.
Please ask him his opinion on the food. Thomas hardly ever gets a say in anything since Hoyt usually gets to call the shots. It may not be much, but you asking him for his input makes him feel important.
Cooking his favorite meals after you know he’s had a hard week just does something to him. Maybe it’s because it shows him that you care, that you pay attention and notice things. Whatever the matter, he definitely enjoys tossing you onto the bed after dinner to show you his gratitude. After all, no good meal is complete without dessert.
Stu Macher
His parents were hardly ever home so Stu learned to fend for himself. This included a lot of unhealthy takeout. You have no idea how he survived off of pizza for so long. Is your cholesterol okay Stu? Killing people and having to chase them down is probably the only reason he ever survived without you.
Lucky for him, now he has you! And you love to cook for him and he enjoys everything you cook. Making him his favorite foods is a quick way to get him excited so please cook them for him after he’s had a hard day.
Expect to have a fancy kitchen and anything your heart could desire to cook with. You two will definitely have a house with one of those walk in pantries so that you have plenty of space for ingredients. If you’re going to spoil him with good food obviously he is going to spoil you by giving you everything you need to do so.
Stu never though he could enjoy cooking, but you quickly show him that it can be fun. This means you can expect him to willingly help out from time to time, whenever he’s in the mood to help. It also means you can leave at ease knowing he won’t be feasting on takeout anytime you go somewhere. At least you thought so until you came home to an unbelievable amount of pizza boxes on the counter.
He is determined to invest in a label maker and put puns on all of your spices like the adorable dork he is.
Billy Loomis
Mr mommy issues absolutely loses his shit when you cook for him. Billy absolutely thrives off of you taking care of him. Once you start cooking for him he won’t allow you to stop, it becomes an expectation.
Billy likes to cling to you while you cook, quite literally. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your waste with his head resting on top of your head/shoulder so that he can watch what you’re doing. Hopefully you can maneuver around the kitchen with him attached to you because he isn’t going anywhere.
After being together for so long, Billy usually tells you when he’s going to “hang out” with Stu. Knowing he wouldn’t be back until very late, you left out food that he could easily heat up. Finding food on the counter with instructions of how long to microwave it melts his heart. Now he’s one hundred percent sure that you’re permanent.
Shows his gratitude more than you would expect him to. He will put away the leftovers while you clean up the kitchen. It may not be much, but it’s one less thing for you to do before going to bed at night.
Don’t worry, he’ll be the one in charge of dessert. It’s another way of showing his gratitude.
Brahms Heelshire
Obviously cooking for him is a requirement so it’s a good thing that you enjoy cooking. But it’s the way you go the extra mile for him that makes him set on keeping you.
You always make him his favorite foods which just fuels his spoiled ass. If you make something you don’t like he’s going to try an throw a tantrum over it. May even go as far as to stay in the walls for a whole day. But when he finds his dinner has gone cold because you had went to bed before he decided to stop being stubborn and come eat he will realize he was in the wrong.
Just make sure to put your foot down, otherwise he will never eat any of his vegetables. He’ll pout about it and complain the whole time but whatever it takes to get him to eat healthy. Eventually he will learn to stop complaining.
No one has ever actually enjoyed doing something for Brahms. He always had to force people into pretending that they cared about him. But you not only took care of him you enjoyed doing it. The home cooked meals you made left him feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside. You put your heart into the things you cooked for him, put your time into making something you would enjoy.
I keep thinking of you hiding something in his food as a way to get him to eat something without him knowing. One day he catches you sneaking in the ingredient while he’s in the walls and he is outraged. How dare you lie to him y/n, after he was such a good boy no less!
If you bake him sweets he will make himself sick from eating so many. You’re his impulse control, please hide the sweets from him so that he doesn’t get sick. It’s for his own good.
Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull
He’s a very busy man so having you cook for him fills him with joy. There’s nothing like coming home to a hot meal after a day of chasing people down and dealing with idiots like Preston. His injuries can also leave him feeling very drained so it’s good that you know how to make plenty of different meals to make him feel better.
If you ever wanted to learn more about cooking he would 100% pay for classes for you. Could even arrange for them to be during times when he goes on business trips so that you have something to keep you occupied while he’s gone. When he gets back he expects you to show him everything that you learned.
Jesse loves it if you ever bring him food. Granted the first time you showed up at one of the warehouses he freaked out because you could’ve been hurt. Spann makes sure to reassure him that she knew you were coming and arranged for you to be kept safe the whole way there and back.
I can also see Spann being flattered if you brought extra food for her. It saves her time and allows her to get more done within a timely manner. Also means she doesn’t have to worry about everything falling apart while she tries to get food.
Watching you cook does something to Jesse and he’s not against picking you up and carrying you upstairs. He can think of something much better to eat than whatever you’re cooking. This has also led to the smoke alarms going off more than once.
#slasher x reader#slasher x you#slashers#billy loomis#house of wax#scream#slasher hcs#tcm the beginning#thomas hewitt#michael myers x you#michael myers x reader#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#stu matcher x reader#stu macher#billy loomis x reader#ghostface#brahms heelshire#stinky wall man#jesse cromeans x reader#chromeskull#ghostface x reader#thomas hewitt x reader
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How they react to seeing you depressed for the first time:
This is my first time doing a post like this, so hopefully it’s not that bad
Michael
He doesn’t actually seem to care
To be fair, especially with the mask, he doesn’t seem to care about much including committing actual murder
He does hang around you a little more and watches you even though you’re not doing much
To you, he’s just being The Shape and staring, but he’s actually worried about you and it’s confusing him
You haven’t been talking to him as much which he thought he’d actually like but eventually it just starts causing a bad feeling in his chest
He thought it was bloodlust at first so he went out to sort it. It took him a little longer to realise it’s because of you
As time goes on, he notices that you don’t move from the bed or couch too much, you’ve barely eaten, you haven’t showered in a few days
He’s seen that sort of thing before in Smith’s Grove, but recognising it doesn’t help him much since the most of their treatment he saw was pills
He also can’t ask what you need; just because he might be able to talk, and he has said a few things to you before, it doesn’t mean that he likes doing it
After just over a week, he tries helping the way that you help him when he comes back a little dazed from a spree
It’s a shock when he comes over to your blanket-shrouded form and lifts you up bridal style. He carries you to the bathroom and sits you, fully clothed, in the shower. The water is freezing and hits you full on when he turns it on, but when you squeak and try to move away, Michael pushes you back under the spray and gestures to the lined up products with a grunt
He leaves as you’re peeling your soaked clothes off. As he trudges his way to the kitchen, he takes the time to neaten things up the way you do when he leaves his bloodied knives and overalls strewn about
You usually make him some food and (very sweet) coffee but everything other than the microwave is untouched by Michael
Even then, the only reason he can use that is because you told him after finding him stood in the dark, covered in blood and eating cold soup from the can
Looking in the fridge, he finds some leftovers that you saved for him. He figures that you need it more than he does.
The food is still hot by the time you come down from your shower, feeling refreshed and a little less foggy-headed
You don’t know why, but having Michael do even the bare minimum to help you makes you start to cry
All Mikey can think is “Fuck, what did I do?”
He was trying to make you feel better, not make you cry!
When you tearfully thank him, he almost sighs in relief. He even opens his arms a little when you sit with him so you can cuddle into him
Stu Macher and Billy Loomis
As soon as they realise what’s up, they’re both on their way
They are in your house, no matter what
It’s not breaking and entering if they have a key (even if you don’t remember giving either of them one)
From the second they walk in, Stu is talking a mile a minute about his day and how he’s so glad that the three of you can unwind together
He’s obviously playing it up a little to make you smile but it works so you can’t fault him
Billy’s bag is full of movies, either old faithfuls or new ones that he wants to check out, while Stu brings the snacks. You get first pick of each, of course
If you’re not feeling horrors or slashers, Billy brought some emergency feel good movies as well as extra-emergency animated movies that he will never admit to even knowing exist
Regardless of how you’ve started the inevitable cuddle session, you’ll end up with your head on Billy’s lap and your legs over Stu’s
Stu will absolutely start absently stroking your legs, and that will lead to him touching your ass until you slap his hand away
Meanwhile Billy’s fingers are more preoccupied with your hair and caressing your cheek
If you’re a little in need of a shower, Stu will make sure you get one. Either outright saying it, while still being his usual self, or a little more subtly if he isn’t sure how you’ll take it. (Billy tried once, but he was a little too blunt)
The sneakier ways include ‘accidentally’ dropping food or drinks onto you, making sure you have to clean yourself up properly while the two of them deal with whatever mess he made
He’ll also ask you if he can use your shower and then try to coax you in with him, either saying he needs your help or he wants to be close to you or flirting and implying that you’ll get a little more done than being clean
You can be sure no matter what, that your boys will be at your side and doing all they can for you until you feel better
#Michael Myers x reader#ghostface x reader#slasher x reader#slasher imagines#fanfiction#scream#Halloween#stu macher x reader#billy loomis x reader#tw depression#angst#i guess#hurt/comfort
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I recently reread your blurb about Bill wanting to join the mile high club but bonks his head, I had an idea. Tiger is getting small on a plane, Bill tells her to go and get off for him. Their seats are right near the bathroom door and the plane is almost completely empty, so he’s not worried. He starts getting more worked up when he hears her faint whimper from the door, thanking God no one could hear but him. When he goes in after, one of her cute thongs is in there, soaking wet, and he’s thinks he would just fuck her on the plane seat if he had any less self restraint.
Ah yes, the time Bill--big, sweet, dumb Bill--nearly knocked himself the fuck out.
The frequent flyer in me had to get over the initial ICK that is an automatic response whenever somebody mentions anything to do with an airplane bathroom. I mean, it's literally the grossest, most disgusting place ever. The bathrooms barely fit one human being just to do ya' bidniss, let alone two to get freaky--and the bathrooms in business class are just a smidgen bigger but smell equally as terrible and are equally as disgusting.
But I love this thought that like...tiger is sufferin'. She's been small for him all day and he has just stepped in and handled everything--he gave her his sweater when she was cold in the airport, he fixed her a plate in the airport lounge and gave her a stern look when she tried pouting and telling him she wasn't hungry. He smells so fucking good and his hair is all loose and gel-free, he's giving her that soft smile every now and then. Once they're seated on the plane he reaches into his bag and pulls out a fluffier pair of socks, hands them to her--she always kicks her shoes off on planes and she always needs an extra pair of socks because her feetsies get so cold. When she struggles with her blanket and pillow he just calmly takes it from her and helps her arrange it so that she's comfy, and before she can even blink there's a tumbler of scotch on the rocks being pushed into her hand, and he clinks his own glass against it in cheers.
And like, after some scotch, tiger went from small to downright needy. Because she's bundled in blankets, she's warm and fed, Bill's huge hand is engulfing her own under the cover and his thumb is absentmindedly stroking over her knuckles. He has headphones on while he reads, and she just stares at his profile--that beautiful nose, his high cheekbones, those plush lips pursed in thought. She whines, starts pawing at his chest, and he takes his headphones off.
“What’s up kid?” he asks, but one look at her and he sees it. His face softens, and he smiles gently at her.
“Ohhhhh,” he says.
Tiger whines again, shifts in her seat and gives him a look that makes his heart melt. His eyes dart around, trying to figure out a plan.
“Billy,” she whines.
“I know kid,” he soothes, “I know. But I can’t here. We won’t both fit in the bathroom.”
She whines again, huffing and Bill pulls her in for a kiss.
“Can you take care of it yourself?” he murmurs in her ear, “Go into the bathroom and be a good girl for me?”
She huffs again--it’s not the solution she wants but damn she’s pent up.
“I can...I can try,” she stammers. Bill unbuckles her seatbelt for her.
“Try for me sweet girl,” he says, and he gives her ass a small pat as she stands. She gives him one last pitiful look before she makes her way to the bathroom, and Bill has to readjust his pants to cover the growing bulge.
Not even five minutes later, the door to the bathroom swings open and tiger goes back to her seat and sits down abruptly with her arms crossed. He can tell by the way her eyebrows are pinched together, he can tell by her scowl, that it didn’t work.
“No dice, huh?” he says sympathetically. Tiger looks like she’s about to burst into tears--and then it hits him. He has something. He didn’t pack it in his checked luggage in case it uh, went off and alerted security. He does a quick check for wifi on the flight and sighs in relief when he finds a signal, then he stands and takes his bag down from the overhead. Tiger watches him, biting back a moan when his shirt lifts just a little as his arms are up, a small strip of his belly above his belt visible.
He sits back down, rummages a bit, and then discreetly hands her a small device.
“Go put this in your panties and hold onto something,” he whispers to her. Tiger peeks at the smooth object in her hands, and then her eyes light up as she scrambles to her feet.
“Tiger,” he grabs her wrist before she runs down the aisle, “Hold on to something, okay?”
Tiger can be a little enthusiastic when she needs it bad, and the last thing he wants is for her to thrash a little too hard and end up concussed and passed out in an airplane bathroom.
He gives her a minute, and then he starts tapping buttons on his phone. He starts her off real slow, but she’s so pent up that even the slowest of vibrations is already doing the trick. He builds her up for a few minutes, before increasing the intensity and even from a few rows back he can hear her loud cuss as she comes.
He doesn’t stop the vibrations. Not until he’s relatively sure she’s had at least another two.
The bathroom door opens eventually and tiger has a dopey, high smile on her face. Her cheeks are flushed and Bill can see the rapid rise and fall of her heavy breathing as she wobbles back to the seat. Just for fun, he gives her another strong zap and he chuckles as her knees give and she lets out a woop that scares the hell out of the passenger she nearly fell on. She stumbles back to her seat.
“You didn’t take it out,” he muses. Tiger just shifts, breathes out a pleasured sigh, and goes boneless against the seat.
“Why would I do a silly thing like that?” she says. Bill gives her a quick kiss, then a tap on her nose.
“Buckle up kid,” he whispers to her, “There’s still 9 hours to go.”
Tiger comes another 11 times before the landing gear hits the runway, clutching onto his hand in a vice grip while Bill just smiles.
#bill skarsgard#BFF!Bill#bill skarsgard drabble#bill skarsgard fanfiction#bill skarsgard fanfic#bill skarsgard fiction#bill skarsgard fic#vacation bill
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In which Peter has a child while stuck in the mcu: *takes deep breath*
He’s definitely living with Wanda post WV, so she’s there.
I don’t know a lot about inhumans but I know a little. Maybe Crystal is on earth for some reason, or the royal family just invites Wanda to the moon after learning about Westview b/c they want the tea, I guess. But Crystal and Peter meet.
They don’t get married, they don’t even officially date, so when Crystal announces she’s pregnant literally everyone is blindsided.
Wanda’s reaction is the best. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s her facial expressions as this is all going down. Her facial expressions.
Peter panics. Obviously. He runs around frantically with no rhyme or reason. He trashed his room. He’s screaming at a pitch only Crystal’s giant dog can hear.
He confides in Wanda about his piles of daddy issues, compounded by the fact that he never told his father the truth.... And also the fact that he was a terrorist.
But now it’s like, what happens if he goes back to his universe. He doesn’t want to to be an absentee father.
So he makes a difficult decision to stay in the mcu for the child. He still wants to go back to the x men to make sure his friends and family know he’s okay, but he wants to stay with his kid.
In the wake of his decision, Peter is high on emotion and decides that he needs to go the extra mile for this fatherhood schtick.
So he and Crystal elope.
Literally. Everyone. Thinks. This. Is. Questionable.
They’re divorced before she gives birth.
Not even a bitter divorce, just a ‘Ok, marriage at this point was probably a mistake.....’ divorce.
He and Wanda binge watch kids movies that came out from after he was taken from the x men.
Labor time!
Peter’s definitely a ping-pong whatever. When Crystal cries, he cries. When she screams, he screams.
But then Luna is born and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life, and he just can’t. He’s crying on his own behalf.
Crystal holds her first, and then Peter, and the first thing he says to her is with teary eyes, so loving, so tenderly, is ‘You are gonna piss so many people off,’ in the softest voice you can imagine.
When the rest of the family comes in to meet her, Peter turns on the Lion King music, which he saw in the binge, and holds her up.
Wanda gets to hold her next, and Peter’s all ‘Meet your Aunt Wanda, Luna!’ And it’s a moment, because yeah, Tommy and Billy called him uncle, and he’s made it clear he loves them as such, but that was when he was brainwashed, so this. This is such a moment for Wanda.
And Wanda misses her boys so much, but the amount of love she feels for this girl overwhelms her bad she really believes she’s not alone anymore.
Afterwards, the three of them (Peter, Wanda, and Luna) are all curled up on a hospital bed together. Like they would be if Peter was the one who gave birth, but instead they just stole a bed to cuddle on because they’re emotionally drained.
Crystal is giving them the side eye from the other bed like, *guys it’s my special day too.*
Peter looks down at his bundle of joy and decides to make a speech to her.
He takes a deep breath. ‘Luna Maximoff’ (‘We did not discuss last names, Peter!’) ‘Your father is.... the problem in every relationship he has ever had. Except for the ones with people who are bigots, those guys suck. And he’s gonna be problem in ours. But I promise you, even if I make a million mistakes, and I will, I will try my very best to make sure you are the one person in this family who’s life isn’t made up of one traumatic experience after the other. Because you are the love and light of my life.’
Awwww.
Oh and Wanda definitely has a himym moment where she looks back all the stupid stuff Peter has done and thinks, ‘That guys a dad now.’
Except her flashback was from that morning.
Of course, that doesn’t get rid of all his deep emotional baggage. And he’s so worried about messing Luna up that he’s a complete motherhen.
He rants to Wanda, ‘Let’s face it, you and I are both going to hell,’ Because even if he loves Wanda, he’s not gonna excuse what she did to Westview, and for himself he has self esteem issues. So Wanda is :000. But Peter just continues. ‘But I really don’t want that for her!’
Anyways, Wanda starts hearing her kids and that kicks off their next big adventure, with Peter reluctantly leaving Luna with her mom.
He writes her a final letter in case he dies so she knows he loves her very much. But don’t worry, Peter’s not gonna die, so this is just a character quirk for now. It’s always quirky until someone dies.
I know that the ‘X men see WandaVision broadcast’ thing should logically stop after episode seven, but for this we’re gonna say the broadcast showed the entire, actual show, with all the SWORD and Agatha stuff. And then it starts playing Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness! And there’s a flashback to Luna’s birth.
It’s been a few years, and the x men have already had a funeral for him, so seeing this is..... wow.
Raven’s long since spilled the beans to Erik about his son, and he’s not been taking it well.
So seeing that his son is not only alive and well, but that he also has a granddaughter, (and maybe even an au daughter) makes him cry in front of everyone.
Also, maybe the team was just a bit unappreciative of him, not enough for us to bash them, but enough to make them feel guilty. So seeing him thriving without them stirs up some emotions.
Also maybe he has an ex on the team, and it ended because Peter’s bad at handling things. For maximum feels.
They know from the broadcast that Peter plans to stay in the mcu with his daughter and that makes them all sad, but it’s a really good reason and they’re almost all sensible enough to accept this.... After a proper goodbye of course.
We’ll get back to Erik’s feelings in a sec.
They make a portal, and all go to the mcu to help out in the final fight. They reunite with Peter, who runs to get Luna, even though she’s not on earth, so that they can all meet her.
Erik holds Luna and goes ‘You will lead millions! Willingly or as slaves.’
It reminds him of holding Nina and he wishes he held Peter and it’s so special.
They say their goodbyes.
Meanwhile, Erik is conflicted, because his child (children) is staying in alternate universe and this is where his granddaughter is, so if he can’t convince them to come back to the x men verse then maybe the best thing he can do is move to the mcu.
But Charles a school to look after, so that leads a horrible question; Will Cherik have to break up again?
Doctor Strange just rolls his eyes and says fuck it, because reality is already messed up so why not? And he gives the Maximoffs a key to crossover whenever they want. And it only works for them.
So Luna has all the inhumans and all the x men loving her so much, with the best dad, aunt, and grandpas in both worlds.
And of course with the coolest cousins a girl could ask for!
#wandavision#peter maximoff#wanda maximoff#luna maximoff#crystal amaquelin#inhumans#x men#erik lensherr#charles xavier#cherik#doctor strange#billy and tommy#i wish i had this family#this is all i want#this is all i ever wanted#this is all i need#this is all canon#multiverse twins#dadneto#he’s a dad now
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