#daisy slasher gifs

[fabledenigma]

In the Source Link, you will find a gif pack of Nataliya Rodina in the horror anthological series - Slasher Season 5. The fifth season is known Slasher Ripper.

Nataliya plays the role of street worker Daisy, one of Horatio's girls. He is particularly fond of Daisy. Nataliya was in the previous season Flesh and Blood - as Aphra.

Source - FabledEnigma

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak. 

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm. 

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you. 

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone. 

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything. 

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone. 

Then you found Jackson. 

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead. 

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical. 

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back. 

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.” 

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.” 

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?” 

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.” 

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den. 

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. 

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile. 

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?” 

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.” 

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.” 

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away. 

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.” 

“But—” 

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone. 

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.” 

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort. 

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?” 

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones.  “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.” 

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.” 

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.” 

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.” 

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.” 

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”  

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.” 

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.” 

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?” 

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.” 

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.” 

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.” 

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.” 

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten. 

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth. 

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon. 

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes. 

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing. 

And no one. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal. 

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things. 

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here. 

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent. 

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows. 

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest. 

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask. 

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?” 

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear. 

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.” 

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway. 

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.” 

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst. 

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—” 

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand. 

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally. 

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?” 

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.  

It’s Tucker. 

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off. 

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously. 

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian. 

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson. 

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore. 

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.” 

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.” 

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?” 

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle. 

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood. 

O W L 

A week had passed since Tucker’s death. 

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control. 

You also visit Joel and vice versa. 

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write. 

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go. 

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.” 

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours. 

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.” 

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?” 

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.” 

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?” 

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said. 

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?” 

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”  

“S-Say what?” 

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.” 

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you. 

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever. 

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock. 

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame. 

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing. 

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.” 

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt. 

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.” 

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together. 

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.” 

“Be my guest.” 

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What?” 

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.” 

“On—On your face?” 

“Where else?” 

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked. 

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.” 

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails. 

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.” 

“What a noble way it would be to go.” 

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face. 

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips. 

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks. 

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked. 

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—” 

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .” 

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?” 

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts. 

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward— 

And all hell finally breaks loose. 

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body. 

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper. 

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips. 

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine. 

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.” 

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up. 

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.” 

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over. 

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?” 

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds. 

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer. 

On your second try you find something else. 

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully. 

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline. 

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel. 

“What���s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear. 

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.” 

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?” 

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.” 

“Really?” you ask and he nods. 

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?” 

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.” 

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?” 

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.” 

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.” 

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor. 

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?” 

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?” 

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask— 

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead. 

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.” 

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.” 

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?” 

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.” 

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?” 

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel. 

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.” 

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?” 

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin. 

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.” 

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.” 

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?” 

“W-What?” 

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does. 

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips. 

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?” 

“I—I don’t know.” 

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins. 

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.” 

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.” 

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.” 

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.” 

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.” 

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.”��

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times. 

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love. 

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there. 

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes. 

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel. 

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor. 

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way. 

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim. 

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest. 

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be. 

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask. 

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you. 

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once. 

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out. 

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys. 

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask. 

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off. 

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light. 

Joel. 

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second. 

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you. 

“Wait!” 

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair. 

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you. 

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal. 

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” 

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition. 

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.” 

“What happened? Are you alright?” 

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!” 

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.” 

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?” 

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation. 

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.” 

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest. 

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.” 

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.” 

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?” 

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.” 

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.  

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?” 

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips. 

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.” 

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.” 

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.” 

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.” 

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy. 

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.” 

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply. 

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it. 

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.” 

“Does. . . Does Maria—” 

Tommy cuts you off, “No.” 

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.” 

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore. 

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes. 

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest. 

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?” 

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief. 

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them. 

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.” 

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones. 

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours. 

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says. 

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance. 

Tommy cradles your face tenderly,  urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise. 

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort. 

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves. 

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach. 

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear. 

You don’t answer him. 

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.” 

“What about Tommy?” 

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.” 

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more. 

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin. 

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction. 

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts. 

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.” 

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.” 

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.” 

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—” 

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.” 

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing. 

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.” 

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name. 

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—” 

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you. 

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs. 

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness. 

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all. 

[charliedawn]

Hey, slashers idea.

How would they take of you when you're sick?

Pennywise :

Pennywise would look at you and burst out laughing like there’s no tomorrow. Human suffering is just funny to him for some reason.

Pennywise: "You are sick ?! Now, that’s hilarious !"

The Penny Brothers can’t get sick. At all. So, he’d find it entertaining, especially since they usually never see you so weak.

He’d enjoy it at first, but he’d soon grow worried and try to help you the best he can while pretending he doesn’t care.

Pennywise *pats your back while you sleep* : "…Hey. The nurses said it was serious. Don’t know if it’s true or not, just get better, alright ?"

Pennywise may act like a jerk most of the time, but deep down ? He cares.

Michael Myers :

Michael would try his best to understand how to help you, but would be clueless and would read whatever he can on the subject.

At the end, he would just make sure nobody gets close to your room while you rest and bring you water and soup.

He’d be your bodyguard and make sure the other slashers stay away while you rest—only allowing the doctors in.

He’d also try to check on you and your fever regularly. He’d be holding your hand and give you whatever comfort he can.

No way he’s leaving your side until he’s sure you’re going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo: "Now, ain’t ya ‘bsolutely adorable ? All weak and livid. Careful. Heard that people used to die from tiny little colds…"

Bo would tease you, but he’d still make sure you get some rest at the end. He just likes to play with people and get you all worked up. If you react, it means it’s not serious and he doesn’t have to intervene.

However, if he sees that you are really sick ?

He’d gladly grab any doctor in the hospital and make sure they do their job…

Bo: "Can’t ya see it’s bad ?! Whatya standin’ over there like a bunch of daisies for when sunshine’s over there—suffering ?!"

Penny:

Penny would look over you from the shadows and cuddle with you when you want a little comfort during your sick days.

He’d also bring you his favourite games, so you don’t get bored.

However, he knows he doesn’t know anything about coughs and sickness in general. He’d stay at the feet of your bed and hear your breathing.

As long as you’re breathing, he’d stay calm and collected. He’d let the doctors do their jobs and only growl in warning from time to time if he feels that they’re hurting you.

He’d bring you snacks and make sure you don’t get bored while you rest.

Jason:

Jason: "…"

The man would understand, but he wouldn’t have a clue of how to help you.

He’d hug you and hope for the best.

Freddy:

Freddy would take care of your dreams and that you don’t get lost. Sick people often get very wild dreams and can get lost in them sometimes.

You *looking at the sky turning multiple colours and slowly enveloping you* : "…Wow. So pretty."

Freddy *grabs you* : "Whatya doin’ here, sweetheart ? Shouldn’t be out there on your own, buddy. Come on. Back in the world of the living we go."

He’d make sure your mind stays afloat, because even though he loves chaos and would love seeing you completely lose it…He’d lose something more important. He’d lose you.

Jack Torrance:

You: "I’m not sick…"

Him *looks you up and down* : "Yeah. And am not dead. Now, get back to bed."

No bullshit policy. You’re sick, you’re sick. He’d drag you back to bed if he has to—because he knows first hand that life is short and death comes quickly.

Jack would also bring you pills to sleep and get better. He may be a ghost, but he’s already been sick when he was alive.

He may be the one who can help you the best.

Brahms:

Brahms would take care of you. He’d bring you breakfast in bed and make sure you get some good rest.

Also, he’s wall boy. He’d watch over you at night and make sure you don’t overwork yourself.

However, he’d also cuddle with you at night and not let you go anywhere without him. He’d get clingy and would follow you to the kitchen or the bathroom.

And don’t even try to get away.

Brahms *appears behind you after you woke up to get a glass of water* : "Go…Back to…Bed."

[lolahaurisfw]

✎ Introduction ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Reqs are always open like usual too, and you can request as much as you want and as detailed as you want! i just get to things when i can/want to.

Anon's: None Yet

Other Accounts: @lolas-favfics @lolamultifandom @lolahauri @chowderpop 🔞

AO3: Here

BlueSky: Here

-> MASTERLIST <-

DNI: Map, Zoo, Pro-Para, Pro-Ana, TERF, Zionist, Bigots, Discourse Blogs. Block me if you don't agree. ❤️🖤🤍💚

What I Won't Write:

Smut. (Go to my other blog)

What I'm Willing To Write:

Reader Who Is: Tall, Short, Fat, Chubby, Curvy, Buff. Trans/NB.

Reader Who Has: Depression, Anxiety, DPDR, ADD.

Fluff, angst, platonic, hurt/comfort.

HC's, one shots, short multi-chapter fics, imagines/drabbles.

Canon-friendly, AU's, Canon Divergence, Out of Character.

Ch x Ch / Ch x Reader / Ch x OC / Poly Ships of any kind.

F/F, M/M, F/M, GN/F, GN/M, Poly Ships of any kind.

Now that that's out of the way, here's the list of fandoms and characters i'm familiar with and will happily take requests on!

Adventure Time/Fiona & Cake: PB, Marceline, Marshall Lee, Winter King, Candy Queen, Simon, Ice King, Fiona.

Attack On Titan: Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Sasha, Levi, Hanji, Annie, Historia, Reiner, Erwin, Ymir. 

Avatar: Jake, Neytiri.

Batman Begins Trilogy: Batman, Catwoman, Bane, Joker, Scarecrow.

Beauty & The Beast: Belle, Beast/Adam, Gaston.

Bee & Puppycat: Bee, Deckard, Cass, Toast.

BigBang Theory: Raj, Leonard, Penny, Amy.

Bistro Huddy: All Staff Members.

Black Dynamite: Honeybee, Black Dynamite.

BNA: Michiru, Shirou.

Bob’s Burgers: Bob, Linda.

Breaking Bad: Jesse, Skylar.

Call of Duty: Konig, Ghost, Mace, Keegan, Krueger, Valeria, Farah.

Creepypasta: Jeff, Jane, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Slenderman, Splendorman, Clockwork, Kate, Masky, Hoodie,

Desperate Housewives: Bree, Gabi, Edie, Lynette, Carlos, John.

Dirty Dancing: Johnny, Baby.

Earth Girls Are Easy: Mac, Zeebo, Wiploc, Valerie.

Elemental: Wade, Ember.

Encanto: Isabela, Bruno, Dolores, Julieta.

FNAF Movie: Vanessa, Mike, William/Steve.

Frozen: Elsa, Anna, Kristoff.

Futurama: Leela, Fry, Amy, Bender.

Good Pizza, Great Pizza: Alicante, Octavia, Dr. Keh, Nasir, Flash, Cicero, Kimmy Slice, Dr. Price.

Grandma's Boy: J.P, Samantha.

Gravity Falls: Ford, Stan, Soos, Melody, Giffany, Bill.

Jane The Virgin: Jane, Michael, Petra, Luisa, Rose, Rogelio, Xiomara.

Jurassic Park (1993): Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler.

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Shoko, Geto, Yaga Masamichi, Utahime, Uraume.

King of the Hill: Hank, Peggy, Luane, Nancy, Dale, Khan, Min, John Redcorn.

Life Is Strange (2015): Maxine, Chloe.

Lisa Frankenstein: Lisa, Creature, Taffy.

Little Mermaid (2022): Ariel, Eric.

MHA: Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Shigaraki.

Miller's Girl: Cairo, Johnathon.

Moon Knight: Moon System, Layla, Khonshu.

Mulan: Mulan, Li Shang.

National Treasure: Benjamin, Riley.

Nintendo: Link, Zelda, Peach, Daisy, Rosalina, Luigi, Bowser, Waluigi.

Norbit: Rasputia, Norbit.

Princess & The Frog: Tiana, Lottie, Naveen, Shadow Man.

Ratatouille: Colette, Linguini. 

Regular Show: Mordecai, Margret, Eileen, CJ, Benson.

Resident Evil: Karl Heisenberg, Carlos Oiliveria, Lady Dimitrescu.

Rick and Morty: Rick, Jerry, Beth, Doofus Rick.

Riverdale: FP Jones, Hiram.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: Kim, Ramona, Gideon, Wallace.

Scream 5: Amber, Tara, Sam.

Serial Mom: Chip, Beverly.

Silverado: Slick, Rae, Mal, Paden.

Shallow Hal: Rosemary, Hal.

Shameless: Lip, Fiona, Kev, V.

SheRa (2018): All Adults.

Sherlock (2010): Sherlock, John Watson.

Slashers & DBD: Brahms, Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, Pyramid Head, The Spirit, Huntress, Trapper, Wraith, Trickster, Pearl, Jennifer Check, Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Tiffany Valentine, Patrick Batmeman, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Eric Draven, The Artist, Amanda Young.

Spiderverse: Miguel, Jessica Drew.

Spongebob: Dennis, Man Ray.

Squid Games: Gi-Hun, Sae-Byeok, Ali, Sang Woo.

Stardew Valley: All Adult Humans (Except George & Evelyn)

Steven Universe: Garnet, Amethyst, Peridot, Lapis, Jasper, Blue Diamond, Rose, Greg.

Stranger Things: Robin, Billy Eddie, Chrissy, Hopper.

Supernatural: Sam, Dean, Castiel.

Super Store: Amy, Jonah, Dina, Garrett, Cheyenne.

Tangled: Flynn, Rapunzel, Mother Gothell.

The Batman (2022): Batman, Riddler.

The Breakfast Club: John Bender, Allison Reynolds.

The Nanny: C.C, Fran, Maxwell.

Total Drama Island: S1 Contestants, Chris, Chef, Blainley.

Triple Frontier: Frankie, Santiago.

Turning Red: Ming Lee, Jin Lee.

Twilight: Edward, Carlisle, Alice, Charlie.

YOU: Beck, Joe, Peach, Love.

Young Sheldon: Mary, Connie.

~

Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year)

Astarion (Baulder’s Gate 3)

Babbo Natale (Violent Night)

Barbie (Barbie 2023)

Basil Stitt (Lightning Face)

Beverly Goldberg (The Goldbergs)

Bruce (Beyond Therapy)

Charles Ingalls (Little House on the Praire)

Charlie Dompler (Smiling Friends)

Chel (Road to El Dorado)

Dale Kobble (Longlegs)

Dan Conner (Rosanne)

David Levinson (Independence Day)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Doug Remer (Baseketball)

Duke Leto Atreides (Dune)

Fezzik (Princess Bride)

Francine (American Dad)

Fujimoto (Ponyo)

Georgia Miller (Ginny & Georgia)

Jack Harrison (Translyvania 6-5000)

Jackson Rippner (Red Eye)

Jon Arbuckle (Garfield 2024)

John Doe (John Doe Game)

Jonathan Levy (Scenes from a Marriage)

John Wick (John Wick 4)

King Baldwin (Kingdom of Heaven)

Kitten (Breakfast on Pluto)

Laurent LeClaire (In Secret)

Linda Gunderson (Rio)

Llewyn Davis (Inside Lleywn Davis)

Master Chief (Halo)

Mike (5lbs of Pressure)

Moe Doodle (Doodle Bops)

Nani Palekai (Lilo & Stitch)

Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina)

Outcome-3 (The Bourne Legacy)

Orestes (Agora)

Paul Blart (Paul Blart: Mall Cop)

Paul Cable (Last Stand at Saber River)

Peggy Bundy (Married With Children)

Peter Mitchell (3 Men & A Baby)

Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Prince John (Robin Hood 2010)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd (Top Gun: Maverick)

Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Shiv (Pu-239)

Stanley Ipkiss (The Mask)

Star-Lord (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Summer Field (Time Cut)

Tate Langdon (AHS: Murder House)

The Janitor (Willy’s Wonderland)

Thomas Magnum (Magnum, P.I 1980)

William Tell (The Card Counter)

[tallulahturnbald]

"So those two," Daisy said, nodding over at a pair that were wrapped up in their own conversation. "most certainly plotting on how they'll be offing some of these folks off. Those two are certainly slashers." She said, taking a small sip from the "vampire blood" offered to her. Oh, how she adored a good ol' Rosewood house party.

[cornelianlute]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

bold what applies to your muse. italicize what sometimes applies. ( repost, don’t reblog! )

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways

𝐑𝐄𝐃

wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / possessive love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖

community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍

marshy swamps / cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grottos / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theater productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊

crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theaters / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art

tagged by @phantomrune

tagging @falsestalwart // @magitekelite , etc!

[tbslnely]

sexta-feira 13, outubro

dia do terror

sexta-feira 13, dia de assistir os filmes clássicos de terror!

todo ano, em outubro, faço um planejamento assistindo filmes de “terror”, só não eram na pegada slasher que eu queria, mas esse ano foi diferente, finalmente vi os clássicos:

A hora do pesadelo;

Pânico;

Sexta-feira 13;

Lenda urbana.

vi só o primeiro filme de todos eles, ainda falta o mais famoso “Halloween” com o grandíssimo Michael Myers, e TALVEZ, eu assista “O massacre da serra elétrica”, só talvez mesmo.

de quebra já eliminei mais um filme da lista de filmes que o Johnny Depp participou, “A hora do pesadelo”, logo o primeiro em que participou.

também estou tentando ler thrillers para ficar 100% dentro do clima de outubro, só comecei “Onde está Daisy Mason?”, muito bom até agora.

[sonoftartessos]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

rules: bold what applies to your muse. italicize what sometimes applies. (His past lives/Apollo only) ( repost, don’t reblog! )

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / possessive love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grottos / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theater productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theaters / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art

tagged by: stolen =P tagging: Anyone who sees it (even if we don't interract)

[starliitstories]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

bold what applies to your muse. italicize what sometimes applies.                                ( repost, don’t reblog! )

                          𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water soaked skin / seaside towns during off season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways

                          𝐑𝐄𝐃

wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / possessive love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets

                        𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖

community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams

                         𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍

marshy swamps / cajun recipes / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grottos / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theater productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns

                        𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊

crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theaters / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces

                        𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art

[angelicamyers]

Halloween: Resurrection (2002)

[house-of-slayterr]

What The Slashers Smell Like: 

Micheal Myers:

OG: Car Oil, Plastic Bags, polyester and Petrol

Rob Zombie: Brown Paper Bags, Snickers, Orange Lollies, and Hair Gel.

PeePaw: Marlboro, Suede, Smoked Bourbon and Well Water

Billy Lenz: Cobwebs, Silkworms, Acrylic Yarn and Walnut Floors.

Stu Macher: Sarsaparilla, Black Axe Body Spray, Quebec Gold Weed and Blue Moon Beer.

Billy Loomis: L A Looks hair gel, Blue Jeans, Corn Syrup and Cherry Pie.

Rusty Nail: Diesel, Worn Leather, Kevlar, Carbon Fibre and Corn Fields.

Lester Sinclair: Moss, Pine Needles, Dog Fur and Lady-Bird Beetles.

Bo Sinclair: Motor Oil, Flour, Steel Alloy, Linen and Rust.

Vincent Sinclair: Hot Wax, Oil Paint, Dry Mahogany, 3 Day Old Sweater.

Norman Bates: Motel Sheets, Gravel Roads, Laundry Detergent, Wood Polish and Anti Perspirant.

Candyman: Bees, Silver, Thrift Stores, Rope and Coconut Oil.

Brahms: Fibre Glass, Douglas Fir Wood, Cashmere Sweaters and Fire Wood.

Jason Voorhees: Muddy Puddles, Lake Water, Daisies, Tree Sap and Spruce Wood.

Sam: Three Musketeers, Marshmallow Fluff, Pumpkin Seeds, Mango Lollies and Fall Leaves.

The Grabber: Dirt, Flannels, Plaster, Eggshells and Paco Rabanne Pour Homme.

Pennywise: Buttered Popcorn, Latex, Rusty Metal, Funnel Cake and Faygo Red Pop.

Art: Paraffin Wax, Glycerin, Diner Fries, Squid Ink and Nail Polish.

[macabrebatz]

I have a pretty cute request! for the slashers (you can write whoever!) where there s/o is like a gardener and surprises them with a bouquet of their favourite flowers or very pretty flowers that they think that the slashers would like?

Author's Note: I got this request and it's such a cute idea. I obviously didn't do all the slashers, just the ones I thought of while writing this. But if you guys want a part 2 with more slashers by all means let me know. I hope you enjoy!

Giving the Slashers Flowers

Jason Voorhees

• You decided to pick flowers by the lake and came across some lilies.

• They were so pretty and you couldn't help but think of Jason when picking them.

• Jason's never received flowers before, so he doesn't quite understand the sentiment.

• "These were so pretty. They reminded me of you, so I picked them for you," you say.

• He will accept them reluctantly, but he thinks the action is very sweet.

• Now he brings you flowers that he thinks you'll like as well.

Freddy Krueger

• You're neighbor had a rose garden, and every now and then they'd let you pick flowers from it for decoration.

• One day you couldn't help but notice that your neighbor was growing black baccara roses.

• Something about them felt mysterious and they were so beautiful. They reminded you of Freddy.

• You picked some and gave them to him.

• To be honest, he's not a flower guy.

• "What's this for?"

• "I thought you might like them. thy reminded me of you."

• But nevertheless, he thinks it's sweet. Cheesy, but sweet.

• He can't help but think about how much he loves you ever time he sees them.

Michael Myers

• You were picking flowers when some purple petunias caught your eyes.

• You brought the flowers home and handed one to Michael.

• "Here you go. I picked this for you."

• It's always kind of hard to tell what Michael is thinking.

• He sat there twirling the flower between his fingers for an hour, so you guess he must have liked it.

• He does, by the way. He actually saved it.

• Once it started to wilt, he pressed it so he could save it.

Brahms Heelshire

• Theres a huge garden on the Heelshire residence. There was a vegetable garden and a flower garden.

• You're usually the one that maintains the gardens, but Brahms liked to help.

• While he was watering the vegetable garden, you were pulling weeds out of the flower garden.

• You had been working for a couple of hours and you decide to take a break.

• You picked some daisies and made your way to Brahms.

• "Hey, Brahms. Look what I picked for you," you said.

• You handed them to him and he graciously took them.

• He thinks they're pretty and he really appreciates the gesture.

• He kisses you through his mask.

• "Thank you," he said.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo was mad.

• A group of tourists had broken into the wax museum, and him and Vincent were out taking care of it.

• You hated to see Bo upset, so while he was out you decided to tidy up the house.

• You decided to go outside and pick some flowers.

• You picked a bunch of Sweet Williams. They looked really nice and reminded you of Bo.

• You put them in a vase and put them on a table.

• When Bo got home he was surprised to see the house so clean.

• "You picked flowers?" He asked once he noticed the bouquet.

• "Yeah, they reminded me of you," you said.

• He smiled and kissed your forehead.

• "What would I do without you?"

Vincent Sinclair

• Vincent was busy working on new wax figures for shops in the town.

• One of the stores was a flower shop, and he planned to make wax flowers for the window display.

• You decided that you could help by picking flowers for him to use as reference.

• You came across a patch of sunflowers in the woods; they had been thriving in the Louisiana heat.

• You had a feeling that Vincent would love them.

• You brought them back to his workshop where he was working on a new sculpture.

• "I got these for you," you said.

• He was a little shocked by the kind gesture.

• He examined them and then gave you a hug.

[cowboyauntie]

The Process Of The Slashers Falling In Love

Therapy, all of them.

Michael Myers

To describe the process of the Michael Myers falling in love is to describe how to teach a fish to climb a tree.

Such emotions have never bloomed into Michael’s mind. For how could they? From such a young age he was told he was nothing but evil and that was all he ever could be, so how could he even begin to express love?

At first, it didn’t occur to him. I mean of course it wouldn’t, all Michael’s ever known was a path of destruction. So to have something so tender be burdened into his chest wasn’t exactly something he would like to register.

But then eventually, a gentle hand on the shoulder or a soft calling of the name had Michael realize something was very, very wrong here.

How dare you make him feel this way, how dare you make him realize he is capable of feeling so vulnerable.

And to rub salt on the wound, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Even if he did decide to kill you, that wouldn’t get rid of the heartache that would come afterwards. And he wasn’t used to feeling grief. You’ve made him weak, he’d think. But if this is what weakness felt like, maybe he’d deal with it, just a bit.

So he’ll stick around, occasionally enjoying the feeling of normalcy that he never had. And occasionally, enjoying being with you.

Jason Voorheese

He’s felt love before, but not like this.

No this was different, more intimate even, but how could someone like Jason, who is at this point a walking corpse, have such intense emotions?

His heart is no longer functioning, but somehow you manage to ignite a spark throughout his body, bringing him back to life.

He can’t explain it even if he tried. So instead he uses “endearing” gestures, such as giving you meat from a hunt, or simply him showing off his strength while he notices you staring at him from the porch. A glint of admiration in your eyes gloss over them before you turn away.

Jason isn’t great when it comes to forming trusting relationships with others, he was given a good reason early in life as to why. To trust someone is to let go of what he’s held onto for so long, and I don’t think Jason’s ready for that. For now, he’ll only peek from behind those walls of his.

Eventually, your relationship will grow from him standing a 50 mile radius away from you to him always having you in near arms reach.

Give him time, give him care. All love needs to bloom is the right attention.

Leatherface “Bubba Sawyer”

Bubba has a lot of love in his heart, he shows that in his expressive actions. Bubba was raised to be a provider, if you can provide for those you care about then that is equal to love in his eyes. However, Bubba was raised in a less loving home.

So he’s torn, he wants to be affectionate and show that he can be there for you but every time he was ever to show ‘weakness’ he was shunned for it, humiliated, beaten. It may take him a while to understand that he is allowed to love you. That you won’t resent him for it.

He doesn’t have many people to ask in his family about his predicament, all of them not exactly being the bachelors of America. When he asks Drayton, the answer is obviously what you’d expect “All love’s about is sex, boy”.

That wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear. When he asked his brothers, the twins laughed and teased him about his crush. Their advise wasn’t all too helpful either. So, Bubba sat next to his grandpa, who wasn’t much of a talker, but he had tried his best to complain about his thoughts. How you always made his chest swoon and beat a lot faster with such adrenaline, how he could replay the sound of your voice in his head every night. He wanted to show you that he could be a great boy for you, he just didn’t know how. That is until an idea pops in his head.

For the next few days, you see a lot more odd trinkets finding their way into your room. Old jewelry that looked to be made of what you assumed were bones, animal skulls, and dried old daisies were the most popular of the items. Bubba would sit down in the basement hoping you would get the hint, as he heard your footsteps from upstairs heading towards your room.

It isn’t until you return gifts of your own to him that his heart soars. With little notes full of drawings and old flowers taped to the paper. They basically had their own section on the wall of Bubba’s room as he looked at them every morning before having to get to working.

Bubba thinks that this could mean something, that there was a chance between the two of you. He notices the way you smile at him with your face being redder than usual, and while you’d always blame the heat, Bubba hoped it was otherwise.

The Moaner “Billy Lenz”

Billy has a hard time separating sexual and romantic attraction from one another. He wasn’t exactly given the best hand of cards as a child, not forming great relationships with his family and being shut off from the rest of the world can do a lot of damage that can only be undone to some extent. However, that doesn’t make genuine intimacy impossible.

At first, Billy will notice how his hands fidget and twitch whenever you slightly brush against him, or how his face will feel hotter and more of a mess than it usually does when you praise him for doing something. Billy isn’t used to kindness, it’s a foreign concept to him.

Despite all this, Billy isn’t exactly sure what love is. He was never really taught about it and he received little to none of it. When he experiences all these signs of fondness, he mistakes them for illness and assumes that something is wrong with him. So this experience is over all terrifying for him.

It isn’t until he’s watching an old movie where he watches the two main characters slowly begin to fall in love with one another, the movie describing how the man can’t keep himself together around the other. His heart feeling like a fireplace, and it feeling like a million stars were scattered around his face. How he can’t handle the heartache of being away from her as it twisted his stomach in distaste. It was then that the movie had finally said love, and that’s when Billy realized. He was in love.

After Billy had finally learned the feeling, he acts a lot more giddy and starts to act the way a little boy does when their crush says their name. He’ll stare at you from across the room, a big goofy smile to spread across his face as he watches the way you move your hair back, him being able to see your face in a better light. It causes him to start busting out in fits of stifled giggles, only for it to turn into giant bursts of laughter once you look up at him and smile, asking what he’s laughing on about.

Billy doesn’t understand social cues, we know that much. So when he sees you staring it him longer than you usually do, or when you’re a lot more nervous when he’s bundled up against your side when the two of you are watching movies he assumes something is wrong. Which then, he starts to assume the worse wondering if he had did something bad.

He’ll ask about it, he can’t stop picking at his hands in fear of his suspicion being right and you notice the way he looks a mess, not being able to handle the thought of you being mad at him. It isn’t until you reassure him that’s not the case that he can finally stop picking at the sensitive skin. However his posture changes when you explain you’ve started to feel a fondness for him that was a lot more than an odd friendship. He can’t stop himself from smiling as the word ‘love’ blooms into his mind and his chest feels like a forest fire. Billy wasn’t used to love, but this was something he was very much willing to learn about.

Brahms Heelshire

This boy falls in love very easily. While Brahms parents, I’m sure, loved him that did not mean it felt that way. He was a ‘difficult’ child and so their response was to withhold their love as a punishment. Making him crave affection from any source he can get. So the way he behaves is the way of a young boy who is just now learning about love.

Every second you’re not near him he feels like he’s loosing himself, as if you’re upset at him so you’re holding your love from him. He can’t handle it, not again.

He’s not subtle, he holds and clings to you the way a child does, he finds every excuse in the book just for him to have a reason to want to hold your hand or why he’d want to lay in bed with you instead of his own room. To which you don’t mind, you stuck around for a reason. Brahms just isn’t sure why yet.

While Brahms does show some affection, he doesn’t know how to show you that he’s in love with you. So he writes letters. He writes and writes as much as he can until his wrist cramps up because every letter isn’t ‘good enough’.

His desk is covered in open old romance literature books and he’s highlighted the best lines. One day, you go down to his room to get his laundry basket when you notice all of the paper. Thinking it’s trash, you pick up one on the floor only to instead see it’s a letter issued to you. A smile grows on your face the more you read before setting the letter down on the desk, then turning towards Brahms sleeping figure and letting your lips brush against his uncovered forehead.

You weren’t aware, but the action had actually woken up Brahms and he felt his face get hot the second you left the room. He thought about it for the rest of the night.

The next day, you found a letter in your room. Brahms watched from the walls as you smiled and held your hand up to cover your warm cheek. This was definitely the start of something.

Ghostface “Danny Johnson”

Danny’s been in relationships before, but he wouldn’t say he’s ever been in love. No, love was much too personal for him. It ran too far and it was only for so long until he was an open book for another person. So no, Danny has never been in love. He can’t handle being vulnerable, he can’t handle being seen. This process is going to be a difficult transition.

At first, he only sees you as a hobby. Just another person he kept around for as long as they kept him interested until they weren’t fun anymore. He assumed in about another month or two, you’d start to get weary.

But another month passes and he isn’t any less fond of you than when he first met you. In fact, he’s even more invested to know you. Something about this just didn’t feel right, this wasn’t supposed to happen. No, Danny doesn’t do love. He never has and he never will.

It’s only until then when he realizes that he sees you in a much different light now, only seeing you as a pastime before. Now, it’s as if you are a desire he needs to fulfill. He needs to know everything about you. If he’s denied that, his heart will rot and you will with it.

He gives into you like an addiction, his cravings to just have you in his hands getting more and more insatiable. If he can’t have you, who knows how fucking ballistic he’d go.

This obsession is the only way Danny knows how to communicate that he deeply cares about you and that he does want you. He’s never been a gentle person, he doesn’t know how to genuinely be gentle with people. While he’s great at pretending, he doesn’t want to act with you. He wants you to know who he is.

He desires you, and he wants you to desire him too. Danny has never been in love so far in his life, so he strays from using that word in this situation. Instead you’re his ‘favorite obsession’ which in his standards is endearing. He’s trying, he’s never had to try for a person before, he’s never wanted to try for a person before.

So take notice to this, it’s only once in a lifetime that Danny Johnson tries to be better for someone else.

Tiffany Valentine

When Tiffany is in love, she gives it her all. The only man she’s ever loved in her life had not been kind to her, he instead made her feel trapped.

So it takes a while of trust building and personal realization that not every lover in her life will be cruel to her. She needs to know that she can be in love without feeling like she is stuck. She wants to grow with a person, not be chained to them.

Tiffany is known to have a nurturing and sweetly strange personality. She doesn’t get shy and she knows how to give a person what they desire. So when she first starts to show interest in you, it’s surely an interesting moment.

Eventually that sweet and joking teasing will turn into more intimate moments, such as her hand caressing yours differently the way it did the night before. Or she’ll stare at the curves of your face a little too long than she usually would. The way she calls out your name a little less with a teasing tone and instead with a lot more passion behind it.

If Tiffany wants you, she’ll know how to have you. And you have to be okay with that, she would split hell itself for you and she’ll make you aware of that.

Don’t take this for granted, you need to see what her worth is. She won’t hesitate to snap your neck in a minute if you start to think you can take advantage of her love.

Tiffany is passionate, she’s caring, she’s raw and dirty. But god, is she such a woman.

Thomas Hewitt

The feeling of being in love when it comes to Thomas is indeed complicated. His whole life growing up he was told he had the face only a mother could ever love, people can be cruel. After you hear something for so long, you start to believe it. As it’s ingrained into your mind like a parasite eats it’s way into skin. So the idea that no one could ever really love Thomas is an idea that’s very deeply rooted into his head. A parasite.

At first he only thinks it’s a temporary attraction, which would make sense. You were quite a pretty little thing yourself and Thomas had never been socially interactive so seeing someone new around would obviously get him feeling a little more flustered then usual. But after a few months, the feeling didn’t go away.

So you can imagine the emotional turmoil he starts to feel when he starts to slowly realize how much warmer the air feels when you walk in the room, how his skin tightens around those old bones of his like a snake does around a field mouse.

Thomas has had crushes as a child, sure, everyone has but he knew better than to fall in love. With a face like his? The girls would only laugh at him and then start to look with their faces turned upside down once they realized it wasn’t some crude joke.

Luda May would tell him when he was still a boy that one day, he would meet someone that made his insides feel like the sun itself. And you sure did that a million times more than he ever could’ve imagined.

The way you work in the kitchen, or how you hum to yourself when you think no one else is around, how you’re always worried about his eating habits. It all starts to get to him, until he can’t handle to be around you before he does something he might regret.

There’s a day where Thomas sees you outside trying to tend to the long forgotten dried up garden in the front yard. Nothing has grown in that old thing for years. Luda May not being as young as she used to and no one else in the household had much of a green thumb. Thomas saw your determined face and the way your hands worked through the dirt as you mended what you could. This moment is when Thomas realized just how in love he really was, and that’s scary.

Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair absolutely does not believe in love, this man was denied affection and nurturing his whole life so what reason would he have to believe that he could ever love someone and that someone could love him?

When Bo is falling in love, it frustrates him. He’s not used to being vulnerable he’s used to being hardened and evil and cruel. So to have something so sincere and raw growing inside of what’s left of his heart feels suffocating, and Bo doesn’t like being tied down.

So to avoid the confrontation, he acts cold and mean, he pushes you away until you’re on the very edge. He isn’t good with love, he isn’t good with being vulnerable, so instead he brings pain to everyone in his path. And that gets heavy.

As much as Bo will lie to himself just to avoid the reality of his situation, he can only suppress his feelings for so long. One moment he’ll laugh in your face and the second you’re out of view, he’s glaring at the floor.

He doesn’t understand how to show someone he cares about them. You’ve seen how he treats his brothers, you’ve seen how his parents showed their lack of care. So you have to understand, this is new to him, scary, even.

It takes a long time for him to soften up, he tries to be less horrible to you in his own way. Ruffling up your hair and offering a half smile, or even just giving you the slightest bit of praise. It might not be a lot from most people, but this coming from Bo? That sure as hell meant something

And eventually you’ll notice, it’s not hard to spot out from his usual attitude.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has craved love for as long as he could remember, he remembers what it felt like to be loved as a child with his mother. But she was long gone and he had forgotten he feeling.

He’s never gotten love from his twin brother and he can’t even remember what his relationship with his father was like. All he had was Lester and even then he didn’t try to stick around as much.

So to have you come into his life was surely a change. You were a light in old Ambrose, the weary rotten town, and Vincent had noticed.

Vincent’s had crushes before, although anyone ever did was notice his scarring and his brothers temper scared off anyone that came near the two boys. So young love was not something he had the luxury of experiencing.

It was then when he first got a good look at you, the way you had looked around with curious eyes and a warm smile at every art piece of his that he found himself falling in love. Your voice alone sparks a sense of desperate longing that courses through the lonesome artists body.

His workshop filled with sketches and paintings of you, after receiving the slightest bit of intimacy. Once you get it started there’s no going back. This boy wants you bad, and he’s terrible at being subtle.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is a lot more knowing about what love is supposed to be and what it’s supposed to feel like out of his two brothers. He remembers watching those old black and white romance movies and he would get all giddy whenever the two lovers were finally together while Bo would gag and shut the T.V off.

He thinks that’s what love is all about, a person making you feel like you got the whole world in your hands. As you know, Lester was raised in a rough household. His brothers was where all the attention went when it came to his parents, leaving him out of the spotlight. Like a forgotten guest.

So Lester does crave intimacy and attention from someone special. It’s one of the things he lacked as a kid and it still now has a hold on him. When Lester falls in love, it’s a lot like ‘old fashioned heart eyes’ falling in love. He could sit and look at you for hours as his face turns red from just the thought of the two of you together.

Lester isn’t really all that great with social cues, he doesn’t do well with other people who aren’t from town as he’s ‘odd’ and he’s worried that you see him as quaint just like anyone else in his life. So he tries to act differently whenever you’re around, acting more ‘socially correct’ and less of himself.

It isn’t until you confront him with the whole ordeal, with your hands cradling his face and you telling him you like him just the way he is, that he then realizes just how in love he really is. He’s always been shot down at a chance for the longest time. With his parents, his brothers, even peers at school when Ambrose was still alive.

Lester has never been told this by anyone, so the feeling in his chest was more than joyous.

The growing of your relationship is slow, as both of you are still trying to figure out where the two of you are but Lester’s happy to wait. As long as you stick around him, he’ll be the most patient man alive.

Chromeskull “Jesse Chromeans”

Jesse’s been in love before, it isn’t an uncommon emotion for him. That doesn’t mean that it’s easy for him process.

He’s a busy man, he keeps busy so that he won’t be able to engage in the emotional desires he desperately craves from you.

Because the last time he was vulnerable, he got hurt. He doesn’t wanna be hurt again.

So instead, he’ll stay cautious. Keep you around and observe every little thing about you. Making mental notes of all your quirks and habits until he’s now drowning in the thought of you. Craving anything more you have to offer him.

Jesse can pinpoint exactly when the feeling had emerged, it was the way you had tended so softly to the scarring the first time you saw the tragedy bestowed on his face. A permanent reminder of who he was as a person. Ugly, just as he was. So to have someone like you touch the most vulnerable part of him with such ease and love had him feel something he had before.

You knew the risk of being associated with someone like Jesse, the same way you knew what he was capable of. And while that thought is terrifying, you always held no fear in your tone. You knew who he was and you wanted him to know that. So you stuck around, and that said a lot in itself to Jesse.

Jesse is quite a charmer, as you’d expect. He’ll buy you gifts as an affectionate token, take you out every other night when he isn’t working, surprise you with things you had wanted without even having to tell him. While most would find that ominous, you found it sweet and endearing. Every time you rewarded him with a little something to show how much you were grateful. He knows he doesn’t deserve this, and he knows that it will only last for so long, but for now, he’s going to bask in everything you have to offer him.

[lovekilling]

i’m plotting a couple of things but here’s a wishlist for my triumphant return to being a nuisance on this blog. my muses need to be updated so it’s gonna be fcs, fc combos and plots. if you like anything below, like the post and i’ll come bother you. my preference is fast tracking it so we can jump right in, but idm plotting if it feels necessary!

fcs i’m obsessed with rn (any pref for ones i use in italics)

mikey madison

jasmin savoy brown

joseph quinn (i’m making a gif pack lol)

dylan arnold

lili reinhart

camila mendes

mike faist

melissa barrera

greta onieogou

daisy edgar jones

sarah snook

sophie thatcher

laura dern

kate moennig

simone ashley

peter gadiot

rory culkin

mason gooding

taika waititi (specifically in our flag means death gifs, preferably a fantasy/pirate thread pls)

ships (any pref for who i use in italics)

alex saxon/kennedy mcmann

maya hawke/natalia dyer

joe keery/natalia dyer

adam driver/daisy ridley or golshifteh farahani

mekki leeper/amrit kaur

robert pattinson/zoe kravitz

milo ventimiglia/alexis bledel

any combination of riverdale fcs you can think of

james marsters/sarah michelle gellar

olivia scott welch/ray nicholson

plots

80s/90s/early 2000s plots pleaaaase, i’m rabid for them

small towns with dark secrets

mystery plots with young people coming together 

found family stuff

fantasy stuff, but not necessarily medieval?

slasher/horror goodness

enemies to lovers

friends to lovers

fake dating 

dark academia, rivals, maybe even secret societies 

longing, painful yearning, slow burns where we torture them over and over until we finally let them be together lmao

toxic, evil ships made up of bad people and obsession

vampires, werewolves, witches, etc

anything based off a taylor swift song

[lonleywriters-blog]

i was wondering if you could do match up's for me, for fandoms of Dc villains, stranger things and slashers, please and thank you

I’m Ghost, I am Aquarius born, ISTP personality, and I’m panromantic with a male lean, with any pronouns.

im 5’5, shoulder length blonde, pale ivory skin tone, Grunge aesthetic and Green/hazel eyes, I have been told by a few of my friends that I look like a middle age man who either only drinks coffee or whiskey.

I have trust issues, I tend to be stand off-ish to people and prefer to be alone in dark and quite places, though I am open and happy around people I feel like I can trust, I’m a bit chaotic and tend to get out of hand when it comes to things I am passionate about, and I like to have deep meaningful conversations with people.

I like most parts of nature, like flowers, bugs, animals, and the sounds, I listen too Grunge, emo, rock, metal, and punk bands, I do a lot of art, i enjoy drawing plants and my ocs, In my free time I do art, I read, write, and watch anime, some of my favourites are Death parade, demon slayer, and skate the infinity, I play a lot of video games, like Resident evil(I love anything horror and gory), splatoon, and legend of Zelda:Breath of the wild.

I hate jerks, bullies, people that are clingy and/or loud, I dislike red meats, I have Emetophobia and Trypanophobia, and I hate going out to public places like stores and restaurants for long perriods of type.

Extra Facts and Notes:

-I can lift a full grown man.

-my favorite flowers are orchids, mandevilla and daisies.

-my favorite bands are My Chemical Romance, Fall out boy, Metallica, and Panic!at the disco

-I have a preference to people taller then me, or as i say "i like my men how i like my hoodies, tall and cuddly"

have a good day/night

Okay I love your personality

Any way for DC villains I think....

You two have a lot in common, he understands the fear of people and he is happy to just be near you. He is very laid back so you don't have to worry about him being loud. He is very tall, I feel like after you show him your music he will fall in love with it. You will have to teach him how to play video games though.

For stranger things....

You both share intestinal games and bands, he also likes nature. He will play you a song on his guitar. He can be a little loud but instantly chills out if you ask him too. He also isn't a big fan of people or crowds.

For slashers I'm thinking

He doesn't like people at all, and he also likes the grunge aesthetic, he will listen to the music you like so he can talk to you about the bands.

[silkscream]

could i get a sex on the beach please?? im daisy and im 20, im in the marvel fandom (mostly spiderman and agents of shield) and rn im also really into nancy drew on cw and stranger things. im teaching myself to code while i have time off from school but im studying to be a filmmaker. im a big fan of slasher flicks, romantic comedy novels, good representation in media, baking, and your short series(es) - idk the plural form of series.

i match you with...

peter parker!

you remind me of the ideal (more stable) version of reader from sweetest kill ngl. i can see your personality meshing well with peter's. let's be honest -- you're the one who shows him the ropes of photography and videography first, so now his little vlogs have gotten a bit more professional thanks to you.