#ms paint slashers

[bnl0sx]

IM ALIIIIVEEEEEEE made this yesterday using ms paint!!! idk what possessed me but gooooooooood i love black christmas i need to see it again and againand again and again and-

[seraphimsmonsterheaven]

ghostface posed like a granny in ms paint

[payasoing]

laurie and unmasked michael myers

[machinegh0ul]

[blurrymango]

Vincent...

[sp00ky-arts]

Just a doodle of Bo. Please don't mind the messed up looking hat, they're not really my forte.

[x3n0-has-moved]

A misty memory… [🕯️⛪️🪰]

OMG IT’S DAMIEN!!! :DD my silly little slasher OC who I’ve redesigned several times HAHSHWH!!!

‼️WOUNDS AND CURS FIR THE LAST IMAGE‼️

[vintagesunkist]

celebrating Friday the 13th with some Friday the 13th screencap redraws

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Take my soul (need control) ❞

slashers dating slasher reader | erratic!slasher!male!reader | fluff, smut | graphic description of violence, brief mention of animal cruelty in Brahms H. section, mentions of nsfw things |

Amanda Young | Brahms Heelshire | Corey Cunningham | OG!Michael Myers | RZ!Michael Myers | poly!Ghostface (Stu Macher, Billy Loomis) | Sinclair brothers

as a preface, (Y/N) is implied to be erratic and unhinged as a slasher. their s/o's are the only ones who can calm them.

Amanda Young (Saw) -

You didn't fit in her future.

At least, that's what Amanda's initials thoughts are when you two stared down each other from across the parking lot, panting as you held your weapons.

She's heard of you through the news. The infamous (slasher name), the monster that lurks in the shadows and savagely crushes anyone who had the misfortune of wounding up as their victim.

Your methods were unlike hers. Not calculated, not planned, not meticulous - completely erratic, like a hurricane.

But she needs the man that one of you has knocked out in your scuffle. While you? You just saw him walking past you while he was making his way to his car and decided he'd die tonight. She stiffens and reaches back for the gun she brings for emergencies as you straighten up but finds herself bewildered as you begin laughing maniacally.

"Have 'im, Ms Piggy" She sees your grip loosen on your weapon and her fingers uncurl from the handle of the gun. "Ya' clearly need 'im more than I do" and just like that, you're gone. The only thing she hears is her own breathing and her racing heartbeat.

Amanda is feverish about finding you. She reads everything she can and scours wannabe psychos and sociopaths' blogs dedicated to your crimes. (slasher name) becomes an obsession.

When you meet again, you find 'Miss Piggy' eyeing the interiors of your home. She's unsure of what she feels as she imagines you moving about the space but she smiles when you begin chuckling like a hyena and reach for the knife you had on you.

"I need your help, (Y/N)"

"Will it be fun?"

Amanda's smiling under her mask. She's seen your research of her work. The newspaper clippings, paint (or blood) of your theories on the wall (among other 'deranged' scribbles) you were familiar with her.

"Wouldn't have asked if it wasn't".

Fun was an understatement. You were a wildcard, someone that could cost her this entire game but the carnage you spread was so beautiful...she wasn't sure if any device or game she sets up could compare.

You two end up working with each other more and more. Your unpredictability makes the FBI tear their hairs out - you were, ironically, the balance she needed in her scales.

When you two confess to each other, you're soaked in someone else's blood. She approaches you from behind, watching your shoulders and chest rise and fall.

You lick the blood from your lips, your smile stretching over your cheeks looking almost uncomfortable.

Her eyes flick to your lips then up to your eyes.

"Come 'ere, Miss Piggy" she leans in and you meet her halfway.

Most would argue that you would be the worst guy to be in a relationship with.

They're wrong.

Amanda knows the ins and outs of your twisted heart because you bare it to her as it beats for her in your palm.

She doesn't take advantage of it. Tests it? Sure, just to feel more secure, but never to the point where you doubt her love for her.

Amanda thinks your ingenuity and creative mind is her favourite part of you (among other things).

You've jokingly told her she could split your skull open to get those ideas fresh - she giggles and you gather her in your arms.

Amanda leaves the window of your bathroom unlocked. Just for you. She knows you need to 'hunt' sometimes and doesn't discourage it (though she makes sure you know her targets so you don't end up killing them). When you crawl back home, you make sure to shower first before you shuffle back into bed.

She tends to your wounds, scolding you only if she knows you could've avoided it in the first place. "More fun that way, 'Manda" she huffs "So you'd leave me forever just for more fun?"

She knows you're pretty screwed up in that brain box of yours, she's not above manipulating you to bend to her whims but she only ever does it out of love, (Y/N)!

She's highly protective of you. She'll ensure your identity is safe if there are any loose ends during your 'hunts'.

She can't lose you. You can't lose her. Both of you are monsters. Both of you belong together - can't live without the other.

If a victim manages to get an upper hand on either of you God help them.

The second one of you is in danger, the other only sees red.

You've literally taken several bullets for Amanda.

She was so gentle with you that night. Her kisses silent apologies. Seeing her cry as she looks down at you makes you move to sit - despite the pain and her protests. Her breath hitched as your tongue slithers in, Amanda's lips warmed by yours.

"You're hurt, (Y/N)" "Don't care, need you"

"You're hurt because of me!" her yell makes you tilt your head "I should've been more careful!" she continues.

"I want you, Amanda" you whine, cupping her weeping face in your hands. "I'll want you even if you hurt me, even if it kills me. Don't say no to me, Piggy?"

The nickname wins her over.

By the way, she calls you Froggy or Kermit (Kermy too!). It's cute.

(She buys green and pink items because they remind her of the two of you and you've gifted her two hearts that you'd cut in half, coloured pink and green and sowed together. She placed the gift on the desk she works on, it's displayed in a dome glass case and she fights back a smile every time she lays eyes on it)

The satisfaction she gets when victims scream as they spot you in the same room as them. Just so fucking proud of her killing machine.

When you go overboard, if the emotions get too overwhelming for you and you only think of how to get rid of the pain - Amanda grips the nape of your neck and pushes you onto your knees.

You bow because it's her. You breathe because it's her.

"(slasher name)" Your eye twitches, gaze still floating around the room but she knows she has your attention.

"You all there, Kermy?"

"I'm right here, Piggy".

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) -

Initially, you'd taken the babysitting job as a cover to lay low. Things were getting heated in (insert wherever you're from) and this secluded manor was perfect.

The sight of the doll didn't make you falter. Hey, you got a few screws loose yourself so you didn't judge the Heelshires for how they cope.

Brahms was intrigued by you from the second he laid his eyes on you. The way you instantly gathered the doll in your arms without an ounce of judgement makes butterflies flutter.

He is elated to know that there's a chance you won't freak out if you see him.

He quickly finds out you're not exactly the Average Joe.

You brought the rat traps inside, he inches closer to the hole in the wall when you suddenly froze. The rat squeaks furiously and your non-dominant hand idly reaches for the drawers. Brahms did not expect you to pull out a meat tenderizer.

There's a mix of emotions in the boy as he skitters to his room. He laid awake that night, a part of him wondering if you were just like him and the other feeling guilt at the excitement.

His parents tried their best to nurture him into a decent man. Even if it didn't work, their voices still linger in his head but when he sees the tender way you cradle the porcelain extension of himself the next morning? Your voice sickly sweet, lips pressing into the cold temple of the doll?

Brahms craves you.

Malcolm, poor, stupid, Malcolm.

Brahms wasn't the only one that wanted him gone. The only reason you reciprocated his advances was to fulfil a different type of lust.

(Malcolm wasn't your type anyways.)

Brahms's nails nearly break as he digs them in the wood of the walls, breath labouring as anger consumes him. Malcolm was on top of you, unworthy hands gripping at you like you were some common whore.

He's moved from behind the walls to the closet when you're on top of him. The grip of the 'missing' meat tenderizer was so tight his hand was trembling.

Malcolm yells in pain and Brahm pauses as he watches you laugh in pure delight as you dig your thumbs inside Malcolm's eye sockets.

You turn to him, smile still etched on your features and Brahms gulps as you bring your thumb to your mouth to suck the blood and gore clean.

"Cute mask"

The kitchen utensil drops with a comical 'THUD!' while you two stare at each other.

Your relationship falls into a steady, domestic, pace much quicker than both of you anticipated. How could they not? The secluded land was beautiful when the weather wasn't so dreary. Even if it was, the grand fireplaces were extremely nice to cosy up next to. It's hard NOT to fall deeper and deeper into each other when everything was so romantic.

Malcolm's death was covered up thanks to the wild animals on the land. Brahms watches from the window as you whistle, beckoning the scavengers as you spread a few of Malcolm's innards around.

You tell him everything about your kills. Effectively burying his parent's voice in his head as you sink him deeper and deeper into your hell.

"You're beautiful just like this, Brahmsy" he pants from beneath the mask and you place a kiss on those cold lips. "They won't understand like I do, we're meant to be like this so we can find each other" his pupils are so blown out as he stares up at you.

"You're my good boy, Brahms, forever and always. Okay?"

"Okay, (Y/N)". Your smile was sculpted by the king of hell himself and Brahm's eyes roll back as you move your hips.

Brahms feels vindicated and free. For once, guilt doesn't whisper accusingly in his shadow. Instead, there's you.

Your routines overlap his. Your hands pull him from the darkness. Your voice haunts him every second of every day.

The bodies pile up in the woods. The rats are scarce with the sudden spike of scavengers drawn to the Heelshire manor.

You love spoiling him with victims, love watching him release his creativity and curiosity. He's so good with his hands and all that raw strength? It's not an odd sight for you to make love in the showers after 'play time' was done.

He loves helping you freak the shit out of your victims, pretending to be the ghost in the walls and making them so paranoid they think they've gone crazy.

When they're dealt with, Brahms often makes snacks for the both of you.

Oh! He makes a mask for you. To show his love and for you to wear when you need it.

He doesn't like that you leave the manor. It causes BIG arguments. Vintage vases flying to the wall kind of arguments. But you were a bloodthirsty hound, you needed to stretch your legs.

He'll be sullen but he gets over it. This routine annoys the shit out of both of you though but over time, he learns you need it just as much as he needs his quiet times.

He welcomes you when you get home, lifting his mask to kiss you and you giggle as your hands slide up his wifebeater.

"Miss me, big boy?"

"Always" he pouts.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) -

Corey knew before you did.

You were just like him. The darkness spills from your eyes as you tell him how the front of your car got wrecked.

"A deer scared you?" he wipes his hands on the front of his uniform, turning to you as you nod and stroke the large dents and scratches on your hood. "Swerved into the woods, didn't hit a tree head-on - Thank God, right?" Corey nods.

He pretends not to see the splatter of blood and hoses down the hair and chunks of flesh from your tires.

Guessed you missed a spot, hm?

He's good at being undetected. People...people avoid him nowadays.

You don't have to ask around much to learn about the cute, outcasted, mechanic's past. You find it all a bit pathetic. These people were really that terrified of him over what sounded like an honest mistake?

Corey wonders why you've gone to Allen's family's abandoned house during his nightly routine of stalking you.

He watches you from the windows, knife in hand though with no real intent of using it...on you anyways. Blood had already stained the blade.

You pause at the sight of dried blood and gaze up the spiralling staircase. Much to his chagrin, you lay down and place your head right on the bloodstain.

Your laughter makes blood pool under the skin of his cheeks. Your hands splay out to your side and you're laughing so hard your sides hurt, Corey finds himself pressing a hand to the window and wishes he was right beside you.

The next day, Corey's parked right out of the supermarket just as you come out. He grins boyishly and you ask if he needs anything. He holds himself back from saying "you" and instead asks if you're free tonight.

You don't expect him to be so forward but you're intrigued. So you ask if he'll be the one to pick you up (considering your car is still in his garage) and Corey pretends to be interested as you write down your address as he imprints the sight of your semi-focused expression. He already knows where you live but you don't have to worry about that, (Y/N).

The night was perfect from the get-go. Your warmth pressed against his back as he drove the two of you to a bar that was further away than usual but was the only one he could go to without people whispering — you don't mind.

Then drinks got involved and suddenly you're dancing with him, some shitty pop song playing over shitty speakers but neither of you cared.

Then reality came crashing in. Someone had loudly — drunkenly — mentioned Corey's past. Everyone gives him looks and although he could care less he pretends to by pulling you out of the bar.

"Corey, wait" he's too drunk to drive and his hands are itching to feel blood so he pauses as you chuckle the command out. "Stay here, baby" The nickname makes his heart flutter and he nods as he leans against his bike. When you disappear back into the bar — probably left something, he thought — he curses and tries his hardest not to storm in and strangle the life out of that asshole who ruined his date and the closest bar he could go to without reproachful glares.

He contemplates the thought of moving away from Haddonfield with you when his phone rings. It's you. For a second, he thinks you're in trouble but when he answers you're breathless pants of glee tells him otherwise.

"Come to the back, Corey".

The sight that greets him is the asshole with a bleeding mouth and a broken nose. The burst veins in his eyes and the wooden plank that you held loosely in your arm paint a clear picture.

"Night's still young, baby" you muse as you make a faux swing that makes the man whimper from where he was sprawled on the ground. "I know you wanna" Your purr makes Corey shudder.

The Cheshire grin on your face is absolutely maniacal as Corey sheds his jacket and pulls out the pocket knife he kept in his back pocket.

The same one you'd felt against your thighs when you were riding his bike.

Haddonfield was lucky the two of you decided to spread your chaos elsewhere because the two of you were insatiable.

The fact that neither of you stayed in one city for too long also didn't help. You were basically doing an American-wide murder spree.

And Corey would not have it any other way.

You were just like him — wilder, sure, but you understood him in ways no one else had ever done.

"Fuck, baby" Corey has you on the bed of some engineer whose blood was currently being used as lube. The man's body was somewhere in the room but Corey barely gave a shit when you're looking down at him with that toothy grin that makes your eyes twinkle with bloodlust. "Mm, you feel so fuckin' good, Corey".

Somehow you two decide to settle down in a quiet town. Corey going under a different name as he works at a garage. Everybody around you thinks you guys are the sweetest couple — cooing at how young you are and sighing about young love.

They don't know that your weekend trips are spent with blood, guts, and sex. Two maniacs completely enamoured with one another.

"Baby, look" Corey eyes the silver band on your finger. Then the other one is on your palm as you extend it to him. You drop the chopped-off hand of the man the both of you had just killed and inched closer and closer.

"Pretty, hm?" he nods "Till death do us part" At that, he scoffs and pulls you in closer.

"Not even Death can keep us apart, (Y/N) (L/N)" he brushes the tip of your noses together and plants a bloody kiss but your giggle cuts it short.

"Don't you mean, (Y/N) Cunningham-(L/N)?" Corey's grin is nothing short of loving and he claims your lips again.

OG!Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) -

To be completely honest, the way you two met was a blur. Before you met Michael Myers your life had little to no meaning.

When he decided to break into your family home one night, he jump-starts everything. He had you pinned on the dining table, his mask already coated with the blood of your kin. Your feeble attempts at escaping his inhumanely strong grip leave you gasping for breath and you're sure that the building pressure in your head isn't a good sign.

But when you stare into Michael's eyes a sudden force tugs your lips apart into a bloody smile. Your laughter is nothing but strained gasps and squeaks and it makes Michael's grip falter enough for you to finally grasp the make-shift stake beside you (from the chair he'd thrown your way) and drive it into his shoulder.

Michael staggers and without missing a beat, you're lunging at him again. No fear, no hesitation, and frankly, no thoughts behind such a brash action.

The force of your body slamming into him throws his momentum off but he feels something in his chest suddenly beat as your shrill laughter fills his ears.

You, with your wild hair and wilder eyes...

Michael craved you.

He knocks you out.

Then, he watches you. From your recovery in the hospital to the 'safehouse' you were placed in. The detectives thought this could be their chance — to finally catch Michael Myers as he 'finishes you off'.

Michael knows you're done with your kill just from the shift in the air. He enters the safehouse and stares at the splatters of blood and bullet holes in the drywall. He follows the sounds of your laughter and finds you in the dining room in a familiar pose.

You have the detective pinned under you, fingers crushing his larynx as he weakly fights back against you. Michael waits politely, when you're done he moves to the back door and you wordlessly follow.

Eating rats was new but strangely enough the act of catching them was a great bonding activity. Your jokes about meeting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — and eating them — fly over Michael's head but his amused silence tells you he doesn't mind your babbles.

He learns fairly quickly that, unlike his silent, effortlessly, intimidating self, you're erratic, loud and pumped with energy when you're hunting.

He doesn't dislike it but it takes some getting used to.

You don't always go on hunts together but when you do he appreciates your gore-y creativity.

The Shape of Haddonfield now has Hellhound by his side — isn't that a cute nickname for yourself, (Y/N)?

While victims shit themselves at the sight of Michael, his stony demeanour is what makes him all the more Boogeyman-worthy. He feels inhuman. That both terrifies and comforts some — but you?

You're entirely too human. Your glee, your rambles as you stab your victims, you're laughter full of excitement.

"Mikey" he glances your way as your fingers stroke up the neck of his mask. Here you were, sprawled all over Michael Myer's lap like a goddamn kitten. You lean up and kiss his rubbery lips, he hums as your tongue licks his mask and pushes you back just enough to lift his mask above his nose.

"Thank you, Mikey" you chuckle, letting him taste the romantic spaghetti dinner you two had helped yourselves to after murdering the old couple.

Their home was isolated enough, that both of you could enjoy living above ground for a few days.

"You taste so good, Mikey" The grip on your waist makes that addictively sweet laughter bubble in your throat.

RZ!Michael Myers (Halloween (2007 - 2009))-

You were the only good thing in his god-forsaken life.

The mental institution had made a big mistake in housing two monsters — especially when those monsters were always so drawn towards each other.

No matter what punishments they inflicted on either of you for sharing glances. It did little to stop this undeniable, instinctual, need to be close to one another.

Initially, the doctors had thought Michael's curiosity was a good sign. A sign that he was showing interest in making friends. Even if you were less than ideal in terms of 'fixing' him considering your own streak of homicide (that landed you in this shithole in the first place) but they were desperate.

So, they allowed controlled meetings. Michael's stare terrified others but you seemed to thrive under his attention.

Guards had reached out to pull you back as you climbed the table and got right up in Michael's face but he is as still as a statue as you carefully brush his long locks of blonde hair back.

"There you are, pretty boy" and with those words and your eyes that reflect back his darkened soul right back at him — Michael is smitten.

When he escapes, he finds you.

When he enacts his revenge, you're the shadow that devours any sacrificial lambs that managed to stray from his grasp.

Oh, he's all yours.

Michael swears that if you're not near him the air feels thinner.

He relishes in the way you mercilessly slaughter anyone in your way — he doesn't ask why you kill but knows that whatever the answer he'll support his batshit insane boyfriend.

"Is this for me?" he nods, showing you the new mask he'd created. You smile warmly, sitting across from him as you carefully place the mask on your face.

"How do I look, pretty boy?"

He places his large hand on your thighs and begins tapping. You encourage him with careful strokes to his bicep.

.--. .-. . - - -.--

Your grin makes his heart flutter. "Thank you, baby" and you reward your darling lover with a kiss which makes him grunt at the mask that blocks him from properly kissing you.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) -

They had an inkling you were just like them.

Billy says it's the way your eyes become devoid of any light when you're angry. While Stu tells you it's the way you lick the blood from your split lip and smile as you lunge at the opposing team's captain.

(Y/N) (L/N), an athlete of their school.

Meanwhile, to his boyfriends, he's an absolutely merciless murderer.

Everyone sort of avoids you. Even your coach rarely gets in your face to yell at you the way he does at everyone else. It baffles people that Billy and Stu are your lovers.

For them though? It's the perfect match.

You're not Ghostface, however, (slasher name) is always spotted with Ghostface.

A maniac with brute strength that takes hits and stabs and even bullets without going down.

Those who did live to tell the tale of an encounter with (slasher name) and Ghostface mutter that hurting Ghostface? Was a big fucking mistake if (slasher name) is there to witness it.

You're the kind of guy to body slam someone out a second-storey window and just walk it off while the victim who cushioned your fall is wheezing their last breath.

Billy reprimands your unnecessary displays of brutality while Stu simply gushes about how cool it was. They both tend to your wounds, kissing and massaging anything that hurts.

Ghostface is equally as protective of you, make no mistake, even if they're not throwing a chair at a victim they will ensure you don't actually get yourself killed in your bloodlust.

Stu has pulled a gun and shot someone in the face when they threatened to do the same to you.

Billy rushes to the two of you upon hearing gunshots but groans in relief as he sees you making out with Stu mere inches away from the body.

"Hey! Earth to perverts! Time to scram!" Billy is pulled into the make-out session by you and he all but melts under your hold.

"Want you. Now" Stu laughs at your huffy tone but eagerly circles his hands around your waist while you pull Billy closer to your front.

Beauregard 'Bo' Sinclair (House of Wax) -

A new victim of Ambrose? That's what you are, right?

Wrong.

You'd been a solo traveller that coincidentally got grouped up with another group of travellers. You seemed normal enough, Bo thinks as he spots you making your way to his garage.

Cute and handsome, a darn shame you'd have to die but at least Vincent will immortalize your beauty.

He notices that you're not close with the others. When he asks, you explain your vehicles had broken down near each other so Lester rounded up all of you together.

You lean on the hood of the car he was clearly working on, jutting your hips and looking impressed. He shamelessly takes in the curve of your butt before putting on a charming Southern smile when you glance back at him.

"Good with your hands, hm?" Bo feels blood travel south but he just chuckles. The conversation is cut short by the others clearing their throats.

When he kills the group one by one, he immediately notices that you seem excited at the violence he spreads. You don't scream or yelp but you're helping him.

At first, he thinks you're just saving your ass from getting sliced down when you push someone in front of you. But while the others run, you're moaning as he's thrusting the blade repeatedly into the man's body.

He pants as you two make eye contact, gulping he pulls the blade out and offers it to you.

"Fuckin' finally" you coo, pressing a bloody kiss on his cheek before you slip to hunt the others down.

His brothers are definitely confused by his decision to let you stay as a real residence of Ambrose but after another group rolls in you prove your worth to them.

Between heated moments under the sheets and lip-locking with Bo, you confess that the reason you ended up at Ambrose was that the police were hot on your tail.

"It's fate," you say as you trace circles on his chest. "We were meant to meet, to be family" he would usually scoff at such a notion but the way you fit into his deranged life so easily...

"It's something", he gruffs out, watching as you take the lighter from his hand to light the cigarette between his lips. "Whatever it is, it brought you to me so"

"Aww, Bo, you gettin' sappy on me?" your teasing makes him threaten to shove the cigarette in your mouth but you just laugh it off.

"Love ya', Bo" he averts his eyes but mumbles.

"Love you too..."

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) -

Instead of catching Bo's eyes, it's Vincent's heart that you grasp.

A solo traveller that somehow got roped in with another group, a victim of circumstance is what Vincent would have called you.

But instead, you've ruthlessly wormed your way inside his heart.

While the others ran like headless chickens when Bo started killing, you were dragged by another girl to hide in the Sinclairs' house. Stupid move on her end really, but you were curious about their headquarters of sorts. So you follow, breathing raggedly to sell this whole 'helpless victim' façade.

You find the basement. Despite the chills that run down your spine from the scent of death (and wax) you convince her it'd be a good place to hide.

Vincent hears her as she shakily steps into his lair. He thinks she's the only one but finds it odd that she looks desperately over his shoulder as he slices her head off with a pair of garden shears.

Until he feels a blade pressed right at the base of his spine.

"You're pretty strong" Your eyes twinkle from the corner of his and he goes rigid as you dig the tip of the blade deeper. You reach to brush locks of his hair behind his ear, a growl raises from his throat but you shush him.

Your lips brush on the shell of his ear.

"I'll bring more of them here, I want to watch while you turn them into pieces of art".

Bo is feeling an inkling of worry at the sudden lack of victims. He rushes to see if they've decided to overwhelm Vincent and finds you swinging your feet while Vincent is organizing the bodies of the group.

Bo is distrustful. He thinks you've seduced his twin and while that is true, you've no bad intentions like he thinks you do.

Vincent is painfully awkward compared to your nonchalant energy. But it works, the two of you just work.

He scolds you when you get new wounds from the victims fighting back but it's a bit hypocritical when he does the same.

Though he prefers wax figures, he did dabble in oil paints again as he attempts to recreate the scene he sees of you demolishing victims.

A watcher, a stalker; an artist.

Vincent usually stays in the basement but ever since you came? When the hunt is on, he's watching you. Imprinting the image of your body shaking with muffled laughter as you pull your jaws away from the bleeding neck of a victim, spitting out their vocal cords with a satisfied hum.

"Vinnie" your coo makes him flinch but he walks out from the shadows as you beckon him with your hand. Your boyfriend stands in front of you, reaching to wipe some blood away from your cheek but really the only thing he does is move it around.

"Was that pretty, Vinnie?" he huffs through his nose and lifts your chin up so you stain his waxy lips with warm blood.

He pulls away to sign, 'Always beautifull'.

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) -

You rode with him on the way to Ambrose.

He's taken by your looks and feels a sense of pity and regrets that you'd be dead soon. Especially since you were the only one among the others that weren't a complete asshole to him.

"Ambrose, huh" he nods, tapping his steering wheel as his eyes flit between the road and you. "Must be pretty secluded, haven't even heard of it", he laughs and tells you it's because you aren't from around here.

"See ya'" he waves at you but you scan him from head to toe in a way that's not scrutinizing but lustful. He feels his cheeks warm, you nod to him as a goodbye before you turn to walk into the death trap that is Ambrose.

He's surprised to find you covered in blood and right outside his shack later that night. Jonesy growls near his heel but you were just sitting there on his porch, casually testing the weight of the hilt of a hatchet in your hands.

"Your brothers should use you more than a glorified Ferryman" he is confused but tense. His muscles are rigid like a snake coiling to bite.

Blood drips from the ends of your hair and nose, you place the hatchet down and crouch, beckoning Jonesy' with a sweet baby voice that has the poor pup confused between staying by Lester's side or sniffing you.

"I like Ambrose," you tell him, your eyes squished into an adorable crescent shape.

"Can I stay, Lester?"

His brothers aren't aware of you until at least a week. They were extremely distrustful of you, their baby brother was someone that they did not want to be harmed. Hence why he stays out of the nitty-gritty of it all.

When you show that you're just as protective of Lester, they approve of your relationship. Not that you would let their approval get in the way of your love for him anyways.

Your boyfriend has to get used to your sudden disappearances and reappearances.

And he has to learn how to stitch you up as well. He doesn't scold you though reminds you to be more careful but drinks up your stories of the victims being crushed under your foot.

Whoever manages to stray far enough from Ambrose to find Lester's shack will find themselves in an entirely different but just as torturous hell.

Jonesy enjoys the raw feed though.

"I gotta go" Lester laughs as you whine and drag him back to your side. "I gotta check if anyone's 'lost'" he reminds but you stubbornly shake your head.

"Can't leave me, I'm hurt and defenceless"

Yeah, Lester's seen you shove the end of a rake down someone's throat with a broken arm and a concussion all while laughing. You could protect yourself with the scrapes and boo-boos from the night before just fine.

Feeling yourself lose this battle, you press a kiss to the nape of his neck as he sits and it makes his breath hitch.

Your hands circle his waist and his head hangs low as you slip your fingers down the band of his underwear.

"Stay" you plead.

"Jesus H. Christ" he turns and you grin triumphantly as he kisses you.

[thegr33nc0met]

Dating Stu Macher Headcanons ♥︎

Alternative!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW, GN Reader/unspecified anatomy, Switch!Stu (a little heavy on the sub side), Switch!Reader, overstimulation, light bondage, pet names, after care

I’m so sorry this took so long to post and that I forgot to add the cat bit:(( I’ve just been a bit busy with work and stuff but I hope you enjoy!!

SFW

♥︎ Stu loves loves LOVES your style. soft band tees, long flowing clothes and light fabrics? he’s eating you up. om nom nom.

the way they wrap around your body like a silky cocoon is just MAGICAL to him. you’re like a witch covered in fog and spider’s silk bro.

♥︎ if you wear makeup, he is very intrigued by how you do it and will definitely make you put some on him. you know that picture of someone laying on top of another person while they do their eyeliner?? yeah that’s you guys.

he loves when you kiss him and leave a cute little lipstick stamp on his cheek.

same with painting his nails. like if you paint your nails black, he will BEG you to do his as well (i like to imagine he bites his nails, so it’s kinda hard to do with how short they’re bitten down).

♥︎ he’ll discover a band or artist that he thinks is even slightly alternative and he’ll ask if you know them (then make you listen to them if you haven’t). they may not actually be alternative, but he’s trying his best to be supportive<3

LOVES going to concerts with you. the whole vibe of the alternative/goth community is so refreshing to him. he thinks everyone is so chill and nice:)

♥︎ as I’ve stated before, his love languages are gift giving and acts of service. anything you want, he’s gonna get it for you one way or another (whether he buys it or steals it, it’s YOURS). if you guys are hanging out at the local strip mall and you get something, he’ll carry all your shopping bags for you<<33 he’ll buy you things even if you don’t ask for it; you’re constantly getting new clothes and jewelry from him that he thinks you’ll like.

he will hold doors open for you and carry your backpack at school. he’ll even let you hop on his back if you get tired of walking.

Stu definitely calls you cutie. i also think he loves to make up random nicknames on the spot. pookie bear, schnookums, muffin, ducky, sweet potato pie, honey booger.. silly stuff like that, but they’re mostly used in a humorous way. cutie is his favourite pet name for you.

♥︎ loves when you borrow his sweaters, whether they’re big enough to be a dress on you or fit you as a regular sweater, or just a lazy day shirt… it gives him cuteness aggression to the max. he just wants to squeeze you til you pop!!<3

♥︎ MOVIE NIGHTS ALL THE TIME!!! he loves cuddling up against you on the couch, a blanket draped across the two of you as some cheesy slasher film plays on the tv. will go all out with snacks (he’s the type of person to put m&ms in his popcorn so be warned if that’s not your thing).

♥︎ he’s always gotta have an arm slung over your shoulders or hips no matter where you are.

NSFW

♥︎ oh lord… this man.. the first time you guys have sex is a wild ride let me tell you!!

♥︎ STU👏IS👏A👏SWITCH👏!!!

♥︎ he loves going down on you. he wants to give you as many orgasms with his mouth as possible until you can hardly handle it. he wants to give you as much pleasure as he can so you know you’re his. so you know no one else can make you feel as good as he does.

once you’re whimpering and nearly crying from overstimulation, he’ll pull his mouth away from your abused sex and rub his big hands over your trembling legs and coo comforting shushes at you until you settle down before he’s sliding inside. he’ll make you come over and over again until he’s satisfied.

♥︎ but if you wanna be dominant?? USE HIM HOWEVER YOU WANT HE’LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU AND LET YOU DO ANYTHING TO HIM.

he’s definitely a service bottom when/if you’re dominant. he just wants to make you feel good as possible.

♥︎ if you tease him while he’s bottoming and gets real desperate, he starts giggling like a mad man between broken moans. god he’s just so DESPERATE FOR YOU TO TOUCH HIM.

“hehehehehehha—ungh!~ yes!— heheh..” as a sheen of sweat is covering his hot body and tears are streaming down his cheeks, pooling at his chin, squirming and writhing against the restraints as you teasing drag the pads of your fingers up to his leaking tip. “p-please… just keep touching me like that… you’ll make me feel good? right, cutie? you’ll let me come?” he pants out, biting down on his lip to keep the nervous laughter from bubbling up again, his pretty blue eyes lidded as he stares you down.

♥︎ imagine him throwing his head back and letting out the sluttiest moan when you finally take him inside you after teasing him for so long.

“th-thank you… god, fuck! you feel so fuckin’ good…” he practically growls out, smiling widely in ecstasy as you fuck him. he lets out the most pathetic whimpers and moans when he finally comes inside you, ‘thanks yous’ falling repeatedly from his mouth.

♥︎ he loves giving as much as he loves receiving after care. if it’s not too late at night/if the two of you aren’t too tired, he’ll get a shower running for both of you, and loves to clean you up while pressing gentle kisses to any part of your body he can. he’d love it if you did the same for him. then after the shower, he’ll get you a cup of water before cuddling back up with you in bed and falling asleep<3

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!🫶

[5five5five5five5five5five]

thinking about Five in the fall-

gets REALLY into watching the trees change colors. he documents the trees outside his apartment window and paints them with water colors. watching the seasons and NOT risking death from the cold or heat is a new found wonder to him.

gets a bit too into crunching leaves on the sidewalk. the kids love this and do it with him but Diego, Lila or Allison just watch as this behavior holds up just walking to 7-11.

him and all the siblings have a bit too much fun at spirit Halloween, roasts costumes, trying to jump scare each other with masks and eventually coming out with very little outside some decor house items and costumes for the kids. they touched and goofed around with a lot more stuff then they bought lmao.

sweater weather. idc what that Christmas image says, he loves sweaters. just not "cringey" ones. but a nice warm green or orange with stitched on leaves and a silly themed tie fits. i feel like he ends up dressing like a quirky teacher. ms frizzle but more muted and less crazy.

he goes trick or treating with the kids and family but doesn't wear a costume. but he will have a themed spooky ghosts and silly pumpkins cardigan. maybe a basic slasher mask on top of his head if he's feeling extra festive.

he watches over the garden wall and makes it his personality for 2 months. he owns the vinyl record of the soundtrack and plays it though-out the house.

this is 100% projection but he HAS to watch the Macy's day parade. this was a habit he's had since he was a child, he made sure to save time to watch it well being an assassin. he HAS TO. its a NEED. and if something gets in the way of him and the silly big balloons, he will had a grumpy old man fit. he then watches the dog show too. he cant help with meal prep till like 3pm. rip everyone else, he counts it as babysitting.

he makes pies for thanks giving. that's what he brings and wont allow complaints if others want to make pies too. he's the pie maker. the pie man. that's his THING.

he gets melancholic when fall ends. winter always stresses him out. the most dangerous season. even when he's safe and sound, it still scares him. he tries not to let it show but the sight of snow really upsets him. he doesn't want to go in it and wishes he could just hibernate till spring.

[goldenfreddys]

september '04, cont.—hangin' with the unloved kids

When Nadia arrived, the front entrance of Freddy’s was locked, and there was still no word from Jeremy. She peered through the glass, scanning the main party room for clues. There was the movement of a door swinging shut as a figure walked into a fenced off play area at one end, though she didn’t catch a good look. She squinted, then walked back to her car.

There were no other cars in the parking lot. Nadia opened the trunk, briefly considered smashing the entrance open with her tire iron. Bad idea, given there was a camera out front and it would draw attention. Kneeling out in the open to pick the lock was out of the question, too. She grabbed her backpack and hefted it over her shoulder, then locked the trunk.

For the past few weeks, she’d been working at a hardware store in the area, processing orders and moving stock around in the warehouse. She remembered a coworker complaining about having to prepare a big order of various machinery, screws, brackets, clamps and wiring for Fazbear Ent. which were listed in very specific quantities. Naturally, this meant the building had some sort of docking area to receive the supplies.

She yawned, pulling her hood up as she made her way to the back end of the pizzeria. Her dusty converse crunched against the gravel driveway that led around to small bay door. To her relief, there was only one security camera back there, which was too caked in dirt to function. There was also a regular single-person entrance before the corner with an “authorized personal only” sign above it.

A laminated piece of hot pink paper written in comic sans read: Pinpad broken. Key in the mailbox. DO NOT misplace it. Thanks, Sean.

As promised, there was a key in the box beside the door. Nadia let herself in, then tucked it in her pocket. As expected, it led into a storage garage, which had doors into, according to the scuffed plaques, a kitchen and a parts & service room. There was a corkboard beside the kitchen door, with more printed notices from ‘Sean’ ranging from reminders that smoking must be confined to the designated area and away from view of clientele, to warnings about certain employees failing to properly record their break time, to legal disclaimers and safety procedures.

Cautiously, Nadia tried the door to the kitchen. It was definitely locked. She then moved to the parts & service entrance. The handle seized partway, but opened with a bit of applied force.

How spooky, she mused. A couple badly damaged animatronics were slumped around the room, which was cluttered with various robotic parts and costume pieces. There was a tangible sense of impending doom fluttering around in her chest. She imagined her friends at the movies, watching her as the protagonist of some annual slasher reboot, saying “Boo, bitch! Why is she doing that?”

Nadia started humming to herself, nervously, as she crept through the room.

“He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it anymore obvious?” she sang under her breath, “He was depressed, she was insane- what more can I say?”

She reached the other side of the room without incident, eyeing the broken down robots as she slipped out. It was hard to shrug off the fear that something really bad had happened to Jeremy. She chewed on her hoodie string as she continued across the party room, towards the area she saw the figure. The checkered tile seemed familiar, somehow. Vague memories of Ms. Fitzgerald’s family photos came to mind. This was Jeremy’s hometown, he'd told her. That he always thought about maybe moving back after graduating, but never had the nerve to consider it for real.

Suddenly, a large gift box by the prize counter jostled. Nadia froze, staring at it. The lid opened, slowly, and a marionette peeked its painted face out. It stared back at her for a moment, before beckoning her over and disappearing back inside the box. She glanced around, then cautiously approached the box. The puppet emerged, again, and held out a checkered, holographic pink slap bracelet.

“For me?” Nadia asked, smiling despite herself.

The puppet nodded, carefully snapping it around her wrist. Nadia struck a goofy pose to flaunt her new accessory.

“Why, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

The puppet turned its head to the play area. There was a small clatter from the dark, then the sound of screws rolling across the floor. Nadia walked closer to the sound, gripping the shoulder strap of her bag. There was someone in there, trying to gather the screws back up. She strained to get a better look.

The figure froze for a moment, then scrambled to their feet and whipped around. Their eyes caught the light like freshly minted dimes— Nadia was suddenly unsure if it was a person at all. She took a step back. The figure lunged forward, catching against the wall just short of where she stood. They flicked a switch.

Kid’s Cove lit up with warm, fluorescent light.

Not Jeremy, Nadia realized, but uncannily similar. She let a sharp breath out and let her shoulders fall. The girl had the same brown, freckled skin and dark curly hair, though hers was seemingly tied into a loose ponytail. She briefly imagined an underpaid cartoonist pasting big eyelashes on her boyfriend before calling it a day.

“Um, miss? We’re not open until nine.” the girl’s face was expressionless, though she was evidently startled.

Nadia decided to take things one problem at a time, admitting, “I was supposed to pick someone up, but I can’t find him, so…”

“So you… Broke in?”

“I think it’s more like spontaneous urban exploration, but yeah.”

She smiled approvingly, “Okay, metal. You can call me Chucky, I work in maintenance. Your name?”

Behind her, a tangled mess of metal limbs and animatronic pieces jostled, sending a few more screws from the spilled pile on the floor rolling away.

“Nadia… Uh, what’s over there?”

Chucky turned and walked back to the tangled animatronic heap. She swept the screws away with her hand and kneeled down next to it, “Toy Foxy, captain of Kid’s Cove.”

A fuzzy off-white snout flopped across Chucky’s lap with a creak. She gave it a pat, before turning her head to stare at Nadia.

“But her enemies call her… The Mangle.” She stated, dourly, fluttering her fingers for dramatic effect.

“... Somehow, the tots here are really good at disassembling him while we’re not looking, but my supervisor said he doesn’t want me wasting time on it, anymore. So, I like to come in early and see what I can do before opening time- just, y’know… Making sure he’s mobile and there’s no sharp edges poking out, anywhere… What was the name of the employee you're looking for?”

“Jeremy.”

“Journey Fokker, Catering…? No, that's not right… You mean Jeremiah Fitzgerald, overnight security!”

Nadia hummed in agreement.

“Right. Mike said he was giving him a ride, earlier. Had a rough shift, or something… He’s daytime security, but he's been sitting in overnight to make sure the rookie has everything down.”

“So Mike drove him home?” Nadia asked.

“Probably. He's been bitching up-and-down about the guy for days, but it's just tough love.”

Chucky got to her feet and smiled fondly, hitting Nadia with a weird sense of deja vu. Her brow furrowed as she rooted around in her head, looking for what she was reminded of. Maybe it was the angle, the lighting, or the position of the name tag on her jumpsuit.

A little tiny Ghostbuster on the front lawn, dated October ‘88. Charlotte and her brother, ready to trick-or-treat.

“This is a crazy question, but like… Did you ever have a twin brother? Maybe?”

“Yeah,” Chucky’s poker face returned, “... Why?”

[diavas]

cringetober 2023 day 5 MS Paint

This is Billy My Slasher OC

[10-dutchies-12-bicycles]

i have my new computer up and running and the first thing im doing with it is catching up with Teen Wolf: [dramatic pause] The Movie (2022 2023); an incomplete memoir, by Me

[image descriptions in alt text]

deaton telling that rescue worker that Scott's nickname is "The Alpha (like a Wolf™)" TWICE in the span of ???? TWO MINUTES???? SFJBDJGBDFGJB w h y

why does this movie have two introductory scenes??

deaton, later that night:

"ah shit, not AGAIN ugh i was confused at the start during the hooded figure fight scene behind the bar part (shoddy editing? :/) T_T and now i AGAIN don't know what's happen- OH its a hallucination. aight. .... wait where did deaton go tho??"

ARGENT BEING INTRODUCED LIKE SOME KIND OF SLASHER MOVIE VILLAIN IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT EVER DFJGHBSFJGHBGFJBH

i must admit i DID like the abrupt transition from [slasher movie villain introduction sounds] to scott going "whOA- jesus... 0_0" and slapping argent's gun away from his face. genuinely solid storytelling editing-wise imo ngl 👀 and then they HUG???? 🥺🥺

"aw shite, i can't do this in MS Paint 3D. time to install Krita FUCK IM NOT GOING TO BED UNTIL 4 AM AT THIS RATE AM I....."

thanks for translating what argent said, deaton... T_T

[scott talking abt feeling allison die in his arms] [argent going off about not knowing what the afterlife looks like even tho thats not what scott was talking about?? huh???] [cut to deaton sitting in a chair awkwardly watching this conversation happen, an ominous thunderclap behind him]

"a ritual Of Some Kind" [i burst out giggling for several seconds until The Despair kicks back in]

............................. this whole scene fucking boggles me i dont even know where to start.......

"if you drive to beacon hills tomorrow i can meet you there in the afternoon" does this mean yall wont be carpooling?? :( after 15 yrs? no catch up in the car? :((((

lydia in her office:

PARRISH INSTANTLY RECOGNISING THE JEEP DFJGHSBGJDBGJDFBG LOCAL CELEBRITY FR FR

*staring at the screen completely dumbfounded for 5+ minutes* scott: "why is Jackson here?" *WHEEZE DFJGHASJGHBSFGJFBH*

"the thing??? what the fuck is The Thing????? is it stiles!?!? IS STEREK THE THING????? SJFBGSJGHSFJG IS THERE LEGIT GAY SUBTEXT WTF IS GOING ON-- okay okay. werewolf stuff. aha.... sheesh.. that- yea okay :') 👍"

1. for a second i thought DEREK jumped parrish naked SJFBGDJFGBHDFGHB 2. theyre doing the do??? in the auto garage office???? in DEREKS office?!?!! SFJGHBSJFHSBGFJ Hokay Then

PARRISH HAS????? BACKUP UNIFORMS IN PLACES WHERE HE HAS SEX???????? GKJBGJSBGSJFBGDFGH BESTIE PROTIP: DONT RIP UR UNIFORM APART IN THE FIRST PLACE?!!?!?

ykw? i dont care abt this ship and im already bored. pls send thots and prayers for me when im watching the rest of their scenes....

[losing my marbles noises] HOW DID DEATON GET THAT BULLET??? DFGSJGJDBH HOW DID IT GET HERE FROM JAPAN DGJHBSJGBF

what the fuck just happend. (re: the deaton and argent fight scene????)

allison's skin is very shiny 👁👁

yea i cant take the nogitsune seriously dgjbgsgjdbgfdjb

yea nah fuck it im going to bed loll

[alektrophobia]

Piggy CUNT

[blurrymango]

Fave thing to do is make detailed drawings on MS Paint with a trackpad extremely late at night.

Of Franky this time. :3