#sinclair yearning is very good….

[sipthegossip-if]

SIP THE GOSSIP! is rated 18+ for explicit language, skippable sexual themes, drugs, alcohol consumption, extra marital affairs and more. Best to be avoided if romance and drama are not your cup of tea.

✭ DEMO (TBA) ✭ FORUM (TBA)

You had everything in the palm your hand since birth. Success kissed your feet, the billboards sang of your symphony and the public chanted your name.

Until they didn't.

After years of a blockbuster after a blockbuster— ignoring the fact they were all your uncle's productions— you found yourself tangled up in serious allegations that left your reputation in shambles.

You lost thousands of followers across all your social media accounts and all your endorsement deals.

But you persisted. After things were resolved, you tried getting back on your feet. Starred in movies that had no connection to your dearest uncle.

But here's the thing : they all flopped. Badly, at that.

And you found yourself once again, at the rock bottom. After some time of having disappeared from the public eye you have decided to make a comeback and do what you were always good at— use your connections to gain a spot in the upcoming, very much hyped romantic series TO THE MOON AND BACK.

You will do anything to get your stardom back even if it means getting your pretty hands a little dirty.

✭ Play as male, female or non binary. Straight or queer. Customise your brand and appearance.

✭ Choose the article that destroyed the reputation you spent years building.

✭ Engage in a scandalous & fiery romance off and on set!

✭ Use whatever means you can to avoid being teared to shreds on the internet.

✭ It's been long since you have acted. You haven't forgotten how to bring those tear ducts to use, have you?

✭ Give interviews. Because isn't that what the blizz and bling all about baby?

✭ Engage with your fans. If they still haven't forgotten about you, that is.

✭ Escape or annoy the unrelenting paparazzi.

✭ Customise your public persona. Do things that transpire behind cameras differ from on camera?

✭ Choose the plot of T2MAB.

✭ THE BODYGUARD : Kai D'melio. [he/him or she/her]

Single and in early 30s. Stoic and all business. It's hard to get a read of them. They are a constant in your life.

Tropes : Bodyguard romance, slow burn, yearning, "crush" route.

✭ THE VETERAN ACTOR : Shiron "Shay" Hill. [he/him or she/her]

Married and in mid 40s, they continue to be a social media sensation to till this day. A friend of you and your uncle. They are the one who introduced you to the director and producer of To The Moon And Back and helped you score the lead role.

Tropes : Extra marital affair, steamy.

✭ THE DIRECTOR/PRODUCER : Victor/ia "Vic" Alvarez. [he/him or she/her]

Single, former actor and in mid 40s. An incredibly close friend of Shiron. They have been attached at the hip since the two first began working together in the industry. All their works have proved to be the public's favourites and you hope that is also the case with T2MAB.

Tropes : Work romance, steamy, commitment issues.

✭ THE M/F LEAD : Alexis "Alex" Sinclair. [he/him or she/her]

Co-actor and in late 20s. Charming and titled 'Hollywood's Budding Star' by People's Magazine. They seem to have a tendency to flirt with whatever that breathes. It would serve you best to not get involved with them, judging from their messy dating history.

Tropes : steamy, commitment issues.

✭ THE SECOND M/F LEAD : River Fox. [he/him or she/her]

Co-actor, singer and in late 20s. After having caught their now ex partner cheating on them, they seem to have a hard time trusting people. The fact that they dislike you for the means you used to get the role and the consequences it led to, doesn't help either.

Tropes : Slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, melting the ice king/queen, forced proximity.

✭ THE CAMERA(WO)MAN : Arlo Kent. [he/him or she/her]

Single loyal to you and in their early 20s. They get all starry eyed and overly enthusiastic at the sight of you. More often than not, you have caught them not so discreetly keeping an eye you. You can only hope they are merely star struck and nothing more.

Tropes : Stalker/yandere fluffy romance.

[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[lisaslosingstreak]

You Can’t Escape Love

A Messy PipWen AU

You can blame this all on @caitlynskitten ok?

Chapter One

With a weary sigh Wednesday eased herself out of bed and allowed her feet to slowly touch the cool wooden floor of her bedroom. The boards let out an ominous creak which made her feel at home a little, but the house itself was a poor substitute for her parent’s mansion In terms of spookiness.

In an effort to escape the devastating end to her relationship with her far-too-short-term girlfriend Enid Sinclair, Wednesday had decided to move across the Atlantic to put as much distance as possible between them. It hasn’t been easy, she probably would never fully get over Enid, but she at least had a new life to keep her occupied.

She had chosen a little sleepy village in England to make her home, her father helping her purchase the old Manor House on the outskirts of the village for her to reside in. It was cold, drafty and gloomy, just as she preferred, but at night the lack of warmth from Enid turned her mood sour every time. Damn that girl for making her yearn for more than her own solitude.

The locals were achingly boring and middle class, but that suited her fine. They didn’t pry into her life and she returned the favour, happy to be the weird young woman rattling around the old manor. She had seen on the local chat groups (thanks to Enid she knew how to access them, at least something a little positive from that relationship) that the villagers were happy that someone new had moved into the old house, and didn’t seem to care about who she was or where she came from.

Wedneday has secured a part time job in the local records office. She didn’t need the money but the free use of civil service records would be very useful for her writing, which was now more thoughtful and introspective than her Viper trilogy. This was adult fiction on a whole new level, and she hoped it would sell well despite being a departure from the style her fans had become used to.

After showering and dressing she went to the kitchen to find the fridge bereft of anything nutritious to eat, which wouldn’t normally bother her, but finding the coffee supplies empty was too much. She would have to go shopping.

It was a warm day as she strolled to the local shop from the manor, the fresh English air scented with freshly mown grass and wildflowers. England was different in so many ways to her home country, but Wednesday would never have guessed that it’s smell would be the one characteristic that she would enjoy so much. It was so relaxing, especially in the morning sun, and it lifted her mood a considerable amount, no mean feat considering she hadn’t consumed her usual quad over ice that morning.

As she stood waiting to cross the road opposite the convenience store she watched the locals walking done the sidewalk - sorry pavement. They all seemed lost in their own worlds and didn’t notice her, the short dark-haired girl dressed in black, her face relaxed into its usual slight scowl.

As the cars drove off Wednesday was about to step off the curb when she was abruptly knocked to one side into the gutter.

“Oooh sorry my dog is pulling so hard I didn’t mean that, are you ok?” a sweet voice blurted out before Wednesday even had a chance to turn round to see her new sure-to-be sworn enemy.

Any insult she had faded away as she looked up into an oddly familiar - yet clearly unknown - pair of intensely blue eyes bracketed by a concerned frown.

“I-I-I am f-fine, th-thankyou” stuttered Wednesday as she stepped back onto the pavement.

“Oh that’s good. Sorry again.” the girl replied, a big grin spreading across her face, her eyes twinkling with delight. She bounced on her toes and thrust a hand towards Wednesday.

“I’m Pip by the way.” she offered.

Wednesday stood perplexed, a weird feeling of deja vu creeping across her thoughts. Pip had a little of Enid’s sunny disposition, and the captivating eyes were familiar, but everything else was different. No layers of makeup, her hair was a deep chestnut wavy shoulder length style instead of bleached and dyed. Pip wore some brown shorts and scruffy sneakers, with a crop top and blue sleeveless jumper on her top half. No bright pink skirts or jackets or crazy jewellery either, just a watch on her left wrist.

She was different.

She was gorgeous.

Wednesday took Pip’s hand and shook it gently, determined to make a good impression.

“Wednesday, Wednesday Addams.”

Chapter 2

[early20sfailingplenty]

💕 I have a request!

Could I please have some heavy angst headcanons, behaviour-wise, for an emotionally devastated, completely withdrawn and deeply depressed Vincent Sinclair who sincerely believes that he's been rejected by someone he's fallen hopelessly in love with?

Heyyyy ~ Kelly!!!💖 This is a fun little one to write; you sent it in about a year ago but I've only just found the energy/inspiration so I hope it's still something you're wanting to read about! I was curled up in bed eating my weight in chocolate cake and watching House of Wax scenes as I wrote this, so I hope you enjoy! If this goes well, it'll serve as my comeback into the fandom.

Reader details: as always, "you", Y/N, gender neutral reader, no coded language.

TW; Vincent haaaaaates himself, depictions of child abuse (canon compliant), Vincent makes decisions for the both of you without discussing them with you beforehand, miscommunication trope my beloved, Vincent's behaviour and thought patterns are unhealthy, canon compliant depictions of violence, morally grey reader who knows about and passively participates in canon compliant events, angst, Vincent is emotionally constipated AND he genuinely believes you don't love him like he loves you, dehumanisation of nameless and faceless people who come into Ambrose (canon compliant).

This is an angst fest and does not have a happy ending.

Word count: 1, 487.

Of all the people who had passed through Ambrose (and never made it out), no one had gotten under Vincent's skin quite like you had.

The people who came into Ambrose were either canvases for Vincent or a fun day for Bo. Even rarer were the ones destined for Lester, if only because he didn't partake in the family business as often as the twins did.

The ones destined for Lester always ended up in literal pieces in the roadkill pit, with many an animal thrown atop the human chunks for good measure. Very few entered Ambrose, but even fewer got to leave.

Vincent was never anything more than delighted, thrilled when he hunted, killed and then prepared his artform... and no one had ever gotten under Vincent's skin.

Not until you, and no one but you.

Of all the people who came into Ambrose, none of them had ever been perfect before Vincent had started his work on them. He immortalised the beautiful and romanticised the ugly.

No one but you, and he found himself wanting to keep you perserved while you were still alive.

It totally threw him for a loop and if Bo had been able to listen in on Vincent's thoughts, as he so often claimed he could, then it would have thrown Bo for a loop too.

Your very existence took Vincent by surprise and just like how Vincent always deals with the unknown, he totally shut himself down from you. He put in a word for you with Bo to tell him in no uncertain terms that you were not to be harmed in any way, but that was the extent of his involvement with you.

Vincent's act of shutting himself down from you was one-sided but it caused enough pain for two people.

As far as you knew, Vincent wasn't treating you any differently. He was very rarely around you but he was barely around anyone except Bo. So you thought little of it.

Lester did think something about it, but a sharp look from Bo would silence the youngest Sinclair, and so Vincent was blissfully, agonisingly, left to his own torturous devices.

It wasn't that Vincent had fallen in love with you at first sight - such a concept seemed terribly unrealistic, especially for him - but he had known from the moment he had laid his eye on you that there was going to be something between you.

And just his parents had done to him before he had been old enough to take his first shit, Vincent wrote himself off.

His attraction to you turned to intrigue, which turned to yearning and then desire and then red hot want which would have rendered him speechless if he had been able to speak.

Vincent had initially made himself put in a good word for you with Bo, to help you stay in Ambrose with your life intact. But then as time progressed, he found himself putting your favourite snacks down on Lester's grocery list, convincing Bo to let you go with Lester, making sure you had the thickest blanket he could find because Ambrose could become cold at night... on and on the gestures went, but you seemed not to reciprocate them.

In truth, it was because Vincent was unreadable to you. As days turned to weeks which stretched to months, you formed cautious bonds with Bo and Lester, but Vincent remained unreachable to you. He was kind to you, but he was also totally withdrawn from you. You couldn't read him, you couldn't tell what was going on behind that mask, he was just... a wall.

You tried to express a rather twisted sense of gratitude for basic necessities but whenever you thanked him, Vincent would nod in such a way that it felt like your thanks was just an annoyance to him. His kind actions combined with the coldness of how he treated you after the fact, confused you, and you found yourself keeping away from him as best as you could, your heart aching. How could you properly thank him if he didn't let you? It was like he was only being kind to you to keep you quiet, to keep you where you were. Vincent was giving you emotional whiplash and you didn't know what to do about it.

There was more to Vincent than he was showing you and you knew it, but he was silent, he loomed over everyone in any room he was in, and he was truly intimidating.

It served to keep you away, which was what Vincent wanted, but it also caused him pain, because he longed to be close to you. Before Vincent knew it, he had fallen hopelessly in love with you. Once upon a time, he had been the Golden Child, the favourite of the three Sinclair children. He had been expected to die soon after being separated from Bo, but he had lived, and out of guilt had Trudy and Victor practically smothered Vincent in love, much to his developmental detriment.

They hadn't loved him for him, they had 'loved' him to alleviate their own guilt, and it had fucked Vincent up as badly as their abuse and neglect had fucked up Bo and Lester.

And so it was that Vincent was outwardly cold to you, or, at the very least, seeing to be totally unaffected by your presence in Ambrosde, and yet when you weren't there, it seemed that everything he did was for you, to make your life easier in a world you should never have known existed.

A world in which the dead remained so, encased in their own tombs, and and the living were haunted by the ghosts of themselves and all they never got the chance to be.

Vincent had closed himself off to you, rejecting the idea of you ever loving him before he ever gave you the chance to even consider such a thing, and as such, you inadvertently closed yourself off to him, too.

Your every attempt to thank him was rebuked, your every want to appreciate him left ignored, your every attempt to even minutely bond with him the way that you were slowly bonding with Bo and Lester was ignored...

Vincent never gave you a chance, he condemned the possibility of you loving him before such an experience could bloom within your mind, and in doing so, he practically shot himself in the foot. He was condemning you just like his parents had condemned him before he had even taken his first breath after being separated from the back of Bo's head.

He fell into a depression worse than anything his brothers had ever seen, to the point that even his artwork, his momma's legacy, was suffering for it.

To an untrained eye, all was fine with his figurines. They came out perfectly, not a hair out of place.

But to Bo and to Lester, they could see flaws Vincent usually poured himself into trying to fix. They could see hairs stitched back into the waxed scalp half a centimetre out from where it should have been, they could see raised patches through the clothing restitched onto the victim once the wax had cooled, they saw Vincent spiralling so badly that he ended up committing novice mistakes his mother had beat out of him decades ago.

And it was because of you.

Or, it was because of Vincent's assumptions about you, made due to his self-loathing which he had never questioned. He could romanticise the ugliest of gestures, the most grotesque of crimes, but he couldn't extend that same 'courtesy' to himself and it always saddened Lester and angered Bo.

Vincent didn't blame you for anything. He blamed himself. He withdrew from his brothers, he neglected his art, he shut Jonesy out of his workshop instead of letting her sleep on the mattress he kept down there for times when Morpheus called his name so sweetly that Vincent couldn't resist long enough to get back up to the house before Morpheus' sand got in his eyes...

And it stayed that way.

Vincent remained hopelessly in love with you, he kept himself away from you, believing with everything he was that you would never, could never, love him, and so to spare himself the heartbreak, he broke it himself more thoroughly than you ever could have done (not that you would, but Vincent had kept himself away from you so well that you would never think to yourself that there was more compatability between the two of you than either of you knew).

You pined, you ached, to know and to love Vincent, but he had made that decision for you, he had taken the choice away from you, and now the both of you were profoundly suffering and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

In time, maybe one of them would do Vincent a solid kindness and break the ice between the two of you. But why would they, when this was so much more entertaining?

[living-dead-girl7]

Random Thoughts about Bo Sinclair with a girlfriend who grew up catholic or is catholic from my notes app…

It feels like schoolboys crush, he wants to tug on her pigtails and taunt her.

He wants to rip all her dainty and soft clothes off and replace them with his own. The urge to rip the gold chain from her neck, to strip the innocence from her body and soul terrorizes his thoughts and cause his hands to clench against his sides. 

 He wants to replace her devotion to god with him as her savior. Or maybe he is the serpent and she Eve. Or perhaps his devilish smirk rings true. He is to corrupt her soul, use all his power and temptation to rid her from her angelic form. 

He hungers to pull her against him and have the poison that runs through his veins seep into her own. 

But on the other hand, he wants to steal her away. If he didn’t live in Ambrose, and lived in a  “normal” town, he would want to watch her father walk her down the aisle and hand her over to him. Have her don a white gown adorned with silk, lace, and bows.  He doesn’t know it, but his brides something blue is his own eyes. That piercing blue gaze that normally hold a raged fueled fire that never goes out, dies for once as she stands at the alter, moments from being bound to him for all eternity.

As he stands in his debonair black suit, he watches her as her hand leaves her fathers and slips into his. His hands that have tortured and killed hold her own with an unwavering gentleness and reverence. As the father speaks, he swipes his thumbs across her knuckles and watches as her eyes reflect the gleaming stained glass windows of the church. 

The windows adorned with Christ and his disciples make Bo chuckle. In a way, he has become her disciple. Willing to follow and protect her until the end of time. The gently rumble of his chest is only heard by his blushing bride who gently squeezes his hand. 

He yearns to lift the lace veil that covers her eyes, undoubtedly he wants to be that veil.  To shield her from everything in the world. To shield her from his own brutality. He wants to hear her say “I do” and cradle her face in his hands as he kisses her as Husband and Wife for the very first time.

As he stares at the girl before him he prays for the first time since his childhood. He prays that she will allow him to lift her up and steal her away for good.

And one day the prayer will be answered, unbeknownst to the girl.

In his eyes, she is already his, body and soul.

Till death do them part. 

(I have immense catholic guilt if you couldn’t tell… it’s more of weird prose and poetry than a fic but yknow… whatevaaaaa)

[diudiudiu]

Bog…I have been a long time follows for a good while now because I simply adore your writing and your many many wonderful talents of making art form in your mind so clearly. I cannot begin to say how much I adore your stories, and I was so happy to find Depravity leads to you. First of…that title. Weak in the knees it made me. What was your inspiration for that?

It also has very much the feel of a hello there, it’s me, the bull in a China shop, which is also one of my favorite stories of yours and I read it whenever I need a little wenclair in my life. What I love about it is it’s from Wednesdays’s point of view, and I loved it. The fact that Wednesday feigns leaving to Enid only to come back made me have a good laugh because I could imagine her with nothing in her bag ready to make it believable. I also very much enjoyed your take on Enid, as always it’s very rare that I find wenclair writers that wrote Enid to the extent that fulfills her character? Is that makes sense? And the way you wrote her in this, such simplicity yet she was so Enid Sinclair like I felt like I watching the show.

I definitely am head over heels for this. The pining, the yearning, the curiosity…it’s all such a wonderful read. Thank you for taking the time to write such wonderful ficts bog. They truly light up my life and make it a wonderful experience. 🫶

first of all, ty 😊🖤🫰

What was your inspiration for that?

the title or the plot? 😂

for me, titles are always kinda like..i dunno lol one of the most aggravating parts of posting or writing something new tbh. this particular title was the one i ended up picking from like, a list of two others

the plot, as with htimtbiacs, came with insomnia 😵‍💫 probably some stuff to unpack there with why these ideas come to me late at night ʘ‿ʘ but w/e lol

ngl, i've read accidental voyeurism fics before ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but what made me want to write one for wenclair is just how challenging i thought it would be. because wednesday losing her mind and having a sexual awakening? with her characterisation and nature, that's personally so interesting to think about what she would do

and with all of my fics, out of everything else, i try to inject some sense of realism in them the most, because i just tend to overthink a lot and i like fleshing out characters to make them, hopefully, less 1d or one tone to read. so the idea just ended up growing more lol

[inkysninky]

y’know every time i see or think about the pink sea from yume nikki, i also think about a line from patricia taxxon’s song flap flap

“Please, stretch the scene into a softer shade of pink for me”

here’s the song if any of you wanna listen,, i love it a lot

honestly pix & bit is my favorite of her albums. i love it so much.

cilantro scratches my brain really nice—especially when it gets later in the song and it starts utilizing noises like dog barks and like- loud boom noises.

show us what you’re made of almost makes me feel like i’m flying or running.

catch these hands speaks to my soul and is one of my #1 “yearning for connection” songs.

flap flap,,brings me a lot of comfort.

castle sinclair girnigoe is one of my top stimming songs; it makes me wanna wiggle.

rocking music honestly calms me down a lot of times (tho it can also overstimulate me sometimes).

take as many as you like makes me feel..peaceful.

nine stars scratches my brain and…is another that really speaks to my soul tbh.

birdsong is very crunchy and staticky, especially in the beginning, and that makes my brain happy. tbh the song makes me think of like- a digital glitching enchanted forest,, like it sounds kinda foresty and natury but also sounds pixely and glitchy.

would you please wake up makes me..very emotional,,, it makes me feel sort of a calm desperation.

i haven’t died makes me,,cry tbh,, i can’t find the words to explain how it makes me feel.

my best friend is another song that makes me wanna wiggle. but it also makes me feel almost,,nostalgic in a way? i think that’s the right word.

anyways please listen to her music. i think it’s really good. maybe i’ll talk about some of her other songs or albums another time. maybe i’ll ramble about other things. i dunno. and if you read this far, i hope you enjoyed it.

[melonisopod]

Wow I was way off about my guesses for Battle Pass.

A lot of other people suspected Rose Hunter so I’m not taking the credit for that one.

Hex Nail was out of left fucking field though I did not see that coming. I guess this means other previously-exclusive EGOs could make it into the Battle Pass in future seasons.

What’s also neat is the choices: Rodion and Sinclair? And Rodion’s is unique cause she doesn’t do the attacking *herself*, but instead puppeteers a little teddy bear to attack instead. I wonder what it could mean…

(Sinclair’s version has a hoodie and with how he’s sitting he looks so emo…)

(It’s already suspected Hurting Teddy/Hex Nail had to do with abuse/neglect, since it’s an abberation of another Abno similarly about neglect; the Envy affinity seems to imply lashing out at others as a result of one’s own mistreatment, which is why I thought it would feature in Canto 6 because that is ALL of Heathcliff’s business pre-character development. Anyway…)

Hong Lu and Faust? In the Rose Hunter outfits? They look like Bloodborne characters!

(Sinner choices here are leading me to guess Rose Hunter is about feeling as much entrapped in your own “role” as you are determined to place others in their “role.” Faust feeling lost without the Gesellschaft and Hong Lu willingly accepting just about anything thrown at him feels like they mostly accept their given “destiny.” But this one also feels like it should go to Gregor and Meursault too)

(The flower/plant theme makes me think Gluttony, but the focus on adhering to beliefs could mean that it’s Lust as well. They could have different Affinities too)

MEURSAULT FOUR HUNDRED ROSES. MEURSAULT FOUR HUNDRED ROSES LORD MERCY I THIK I HAVE THE PLAGUE

A little sad though he didn’t get to have long flowing hair like Don. But good lord, why’s he so handsome this season? The new ID teased at (Cinq North/West maybe?) looks so fancy on him. Would be interested to see if his new EGO is HE or WAW

Don looks stunning in her new EGO I love her so much. I’m so used to her EGOs looking very silly and “gremliny” but this one looks so different from her usual vibe and I’m not complaining! Much as I”m so scared for what will happen to her (will we ever have our silly gal ever again after this?) I’m kind of hyped to see more of this side of her too.

As for the name of the new EGO…YEARNING MIRCALLA. As in Carmilla’s real name.

(It’s probably going to be Lust because it’s themed around blood and the word “Yearning’ is right in the name, but I hope so badly that it’s Wrath. Wrath being about “lashing out” against one’s own circumstances, often violently, refusal to accept one’s fate, or lashing out because of one’s fate. So maybe the flower that wanted to be small and beautiful but instead became a monster lashes out at its own fate? It’d make the third Wrath EGO Meursault has gotten thus far)

[mvrderer]

First kiss with slashers of ur choice headcanons? 👁️👁️

VIBRATES. sorry these are not a lot of slashers i have school like tomorrow so its rushed and wasn't proofread </3 but i hope u enjoy!

Includes : Brahms Heelshire, Bo Sinclair, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Brahms Heelshire :

you've evolved from kissing the doll to kissing the cold cracked porcelain mask he wore almost 24/7

you even got into a relationship with him! and it's all been going good aside his childish tantrums ofc

you've never seen him without that damn mask even in your relationship, and you got pretty tired of it

so you decided to be pretty subtle, gently caressing his porcelain mask and kissing longer. basically telling him you're longing for him

and he's pretty much flustered everytime because it's unexpected to him. but he got the hint. trust me, he wants to kiss you properly too

but he's still so scared of you not liking him once you see his face, he can just lift his mask enough for you to kiss his real lips but to him that isn't really... meaningful, yknow?

well, he pretty much prepared himself since the both of you mutually mentally agreed that you guys have been together long enough

it's nighttime, your usual daily routine is coming to an end with a kiss. you gathered your courage to ask him!

“ brahms, can i kiss your real lips? ”

he was caught off guard, he could feel his cheeks heating up and his heart pounding holy shit

he hesitated and told you to close your eyes first, waiting until you do. even making you cover your eyes with your hands

then your heard a clink of the porcelain mask being set on the bedside table, and a pair of cold slightly shaky hands cup your face

he pressed his lips onto yours, and it was warm. it probably tasted a little like chocolate milk since he drank that before bed

he pulled away when you pressed back into the kiss, it was too much for him he felt like he was about to explode

but he wanted more , he's been yearning for this for so long— of course he'd want more!

he's surprised you didn't even budge opening your eyes to take a peek, but he appreciates the loyalty nonetheless

“ you... can open your eyes... yknow ” he silently spoke in his real voice, it's quite deep yet soothing

and when you do, your eyes fell on his facial features. he was a bit discouraged when you just gawked at his face until you blurted out how handsome he is

he could not stop grinning, very soft. you ended up being pulled into bed with him and cuddled as he kissed your face all over

he could have never asked for more, this is heaven.

Bo Sinclair :

idk why but this man probably never have had his first kiss before, he just feels like that guy despite being all charming and shit

so when it comes to you, the love of his goddamned life, he wants to make it a little more special. more romantic and intimate

he set up a movie date, but outside, with an old projector while the sun is setting. cuddling up to you and shit

he probably asked vincent or lester what he should do for the first kiss tbh there's probably times you feel like he's not acting like himself, the culprit is either vince or lester

he was quite physically affectionate the whole time! rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, rubbing your shoulder, leaning against your shoulder

mf probably put on a cheesy ass movie (courtesy of his brothers) and was like "fuck this" and stopped the act, making fun of the movie with you

that was definitely much more comfortable, and he loved seeing you smile and how energetic your voice sounded as you both shittalked the movie

you were both laughing your ass off the whole time, probably drinking with him as well

and when it was getting a bit late and the laughter died down, there was a moment of silence. peaceful, happy silence

and then he looked at you

he didn't say anything, he gently made you face him with his rough hands. tracing your jawline before placing his hand on your cheek

he smiled and felt his face heat up when you melt into his touch and gazed at him with such adoration

he looked at your lips and you obviously knew what he wanted, so you slightly parted your lips and waited

then he slowly went in for it, gently pressing and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss when your lips pressed back onto his

it was long, and you probably kissed more than once

he's not one for sappy shit but he'll always remember this forever. it was so amazing to him.

Billy Loomis :

he's so very romantic thorought the course of the relationship, and i would think he's usually the one that initiates a lot of physical affection

he also likes to tease you a lot and is quite bold, so he's probably hinted a few times that he wanted to kiss you

probably by caressing your lips with his thumb and then smiling like an ass when you get flustered and mad at him when he stopped then continued doing what he was doing

he's probably held up a radio in the air infront of your house and blasted a cheesy oldschool love song

started shouting the lyrics as well until you yelled at him to stop blasting it at like 1 am

he climbed into your bedroom window and started grinning like an idiot, staring at you until you eventually asked “ what the hell are you doing ”

then he straight up asked “ can i kiss you? ” thought it's more like a statement

you were so taken aback that you subconsciously nodded and he immediately took his chance

it was sweet, and you could taste a little hint of mint. he was obviously prepared for it

then he asked for more, to which you complied to until it seemed like he just wouldn't stop so you had to stop him

then he gave you flowers and settled with watching a horror movie with you while cuddling <3

Stu Macher :

dunno bout yall but this man likes to go fast he craves your affection and will continue to do so very excitedly

mans is like a golden retriever

so it's probably pretty early into the relationship where he tried to kiss you until you stopped him and told him to wait

even though he's pretty impatient he's still respectable ofc, it's the bare minimum after all

you had a date night where you tried out weird food combos, it was horrible but you two still had a lot of fun together. you laughed at stu when he looked like a cat that was about to cough up a hairball

then you moved on to watching a movie together, trying to wash that horrible taste out with soda

he held your hand throughout all of it and wouldn't let go because he just loves physical affection

you started thinking about his advances, spacing out a little as the movie continued with stu laughing at whatevers in it

when he tried to get you to join in and you didn't respond at first he called your name, then looked at you

you responded with a hum and he was worried you might be not feeling too well so he asked

but he was cut off with your hand cupping his face

oh my god are you trying to kill him??

he was caught so off guard you could see his face slowly turn to red when you just stared at him

you chuckled at him and he was more flustered by that but didn't move away

so you slowly leaned in and he was puckering his lips, like full on duck face and shut his eyes tight

he swore his heart exploded when he felt your lips against his

the way you kissed him eventually made him stop doing the weird duck face because oop thats not the way to kiss he forgor 💀

he excitedly pressed back, basically crashing your teeth together which made you pull away and let out an "ow!"

you both laughed and he apologized repeatedly

he stopped when you asked “ wanna do it again? more properly of course ”

stu nodded his head so quickly and prepared for another one, which is now more tender and loving than the last

he's so happy he's probably shaking from the exceeding amount of dopamine and oxytoncin in his brain rn

clung onto you tightly right after and wouldn't let you go until you promised to be back after the bathroom break

stupidly in love and the kiss only made him MORE IN LOVE

AUGH i hope this is sufficient enough 👍 im sleep deprived

[scarofthewind]

Could I request for Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt (and anyone else you may want) on how they’d react to cumming very quickly, like they’re having a stressful day and haven’t dont *it* in a long time and it just happens. :) thanks

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I really liked this one....very spicy! Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, R18+, heated make-out sessions, mentions of oral, face-sitting, pet names

Characters: Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees and Bo Sinclair

word count: 2.05k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Thomas Hewitt: 

“I need you to go upstairs for me, pretty girl,” Thomas’ voice sounded darker than you remembered as you walked through the front door, letting your workbag rest against the coat rack. Your lover didn’t give you a moment to speak before he was trudging back down the steps of the basement where you heard a male beg for his life. 

With a sigh you obliged, running your hand down your stiff neck and wondering if you needed to take some time off work. You felt like you hadn’t seen Thomas, kissed him or even touched him in forever and it was starting to get to you. You both hated the fact that work had you going overtime and that he was doing busy work with stuff around the acres of land he had to maintain. All you wanted was to spend at least a full day with him where there was no work, just love making and talking. 

Making your way to the bedroom, you shut the door as the man started screaming, the familiar sound of Thomas’ chainsaw going off as you took your clothes off piece by piece and set them in the laundry hamper, reminding yourself to do laundry when you could. You moved sluggishly towards the shower, pulling the curtain back and turning the water on, getting it ready for both you and Thomas who you could hear bounding up the stairs as the water warmed. 

Strong arms covered in blood wrapped around your middle and chapped lips pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. “No more overtime and I’m taking next week off,” you told Thomas who hummed in response, pulling back to loose his clothing before following you into the warm shower. “I missed you so much,” you said softly, your heart aching at your words as the male stared down at you with a knowing feeling.

“I didn’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead to which you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips, letting the water run over his red-stained skin. “But shit did I miss you too,” he growled against your mouth, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip while his hands felt up your body. One of your hands traveled down towards his cock, palming it gently and feeling it twitch to life before you began pumping the shaft gently. 

Thomas’ lips worked hungrily against yours as he pressed you against the shower wall, cupping your cunt with one hand before slipping past your lower lips and delving into your aching pussy. A soft cry left your mouth and Thomas felt himself snap at the feeling of your walls sucking on his fingers so tightly. Just the thought of what your pussy would do to his cock made him cum and he pulled away from you, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry it just been so long and-”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” You say softly, bringing his lips back to yours. “It’s not like you can’t get it back up, right?” You smirk against his mouth and let out a shriek when he pulls you out of the shower and takes you to the bed, moving to lay between your legs and bringing his mouth to your sopping cunt.

Bo Sinclair: 

The man was practically tweaking when you walked into the house, Bo immediatley springing up from his spot on the couch and making his way towards you. “I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn to apologize for our fight last week but please, please, please forgive me.” Bo was frantic, his pupils blown wide and an obvious tent in his shorts that made you bite back a smirk. 

“I can’t get off without you, I can’t sleep, I can barely eat because you know I can’t cook-”

“Bo, please stop talking.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose before pulling him upstairs to your bedroom, him still babbling about useless things the whole way. As soon as you get into the comfort of the room, you shut the door behind you and turn to face him. 

“I mean I can’t even get close to finishing, it’s like my dick’s broke-” you cut him off by grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Taking his hat off and throwing it to the floor so you could run your fingers through his messy hair, you felt him relax against your touch, his hands pulling your body against his. “Please,” he groaned and you obliged, moving him over to the chair by the window and letting him sit down before climbing on his lap and unzipping his pants, spitting in your hand before pumping his shaft slowly. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, hips bucking at your touch while his head was buried between your breasts. “That feels so good, baby, just like that,” he let out a string of curse words while you continued your actions, running your thumb across the tip a few times while feeling a familiar wetness grow between your legs. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Bo panted, his hips moving along with your hand as he came in thick white spurts to which you wiped on his shirt. 

“That was quick,” you teased, watching him glare at you before he moved, having you seated on the chair with your legs hooked on his bare shoulders when he removed his stained shirt. “You don’t have to, Bo.” You said, watching him shake his head and pull your pants down along with your underwear. 

“I told you didn’t I? I’m a starving man and I know good eatin’ when I see it,” he winks up at you before slowly making his way to your glistening cunt. With the way he works your body like a finely tuned instrument, it doesn’t take you long to finish either and by then, he’s hard and ready to go again.

Michael Myers: 

The air was knocked from your lungs the moment you walked through the front door as Michael shoved you against the wall, lips pressed against yours feverishly as his teeth practically clicked against your own. “What the hell, Michael?” You struggled to push the larger man off, moving slightly to the side and wiping your mouth from the wetness of the kiss. 

“I haven’t touched you in over two weeks, do you know what that’s doing to me?” He growled, pressing himself against you, your back one again meeting the wall. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of finally getting off after two straight weeks of overworking yourself and barely getting to see your ‘very busy’ serial killer lover. 

You let out a gasp when his teeth pulled at the skin on your neck, leaving various bite marks and bruises on your already sore body. “Calm down, you’re gonna kill me,” you whimper, feeling one of his hands dip between your bodies to rub your clothed pussy, the feeling still making you weak in the knees. “Bedroom, now.” You ordered, moving out from under him and not bothering to look back, knowing he was following you up the stairs. 

It didn’t take but a few seconds before you were topless, your bra still uncomfortably holding your breasts into place while you were shoved on the bed, Michael crawling on top of you faster than you could blink. Once again, his lips found yours and one of his hands found purchase on your neck, lightly thumbing over the dark marks he left there earlier while his tongue delved into your awaiting mouth. You could feel his cock straining against his pants as he slowly ground it along your pant-clad cunt, your panties becoming remarkably uncomfortable with how wet they were. 

A soft moan of his name left your lips when he slipped his hand from your neck into your pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down enough for him to feel how wet you were. “Oh fuck,” he grunted, his chest heaving as his hands stilled and his lips moved off yours. You stared up at him in confusion as he quickly stood up, stripping himself of his pants and boxers, cursing at the copious amounts of cum that coated his now softening cock. 

“That’s new,” you tease, watching his ears turn red before he curses again. “Don’t be embarrassed, we haven't’ done anything in a while so it’s natural.” You assure him, watching him roll his eyes before moving to lay on the bed. 

“I don’t need this from you, just come here.” He grunts, getting comfortable and curling a finger at you. 

“I don’t get it, I’m not gonna ride you when you’re soft, it’ll-”

“Not my dick, Princess,” he said with a smirk, moving his hair from his face and running a hand along his mouth, his tongue licking his lips. “Come take a seat, I wanna taste you.” You didn’t have to be told twice.

Jason Voorhees: 

It felt like their were a million things on your mind, but that he wasn’t one of them. Lately with work and your family, you’ve not been able to go out and see Jason all too much and it was starting to worry him. Did you grow tired of him? Did you find someone better?

He missed your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your body, your lips, your cunt; you name it and he was yearning for it. He hadn’t gotten off without you there since before he met you and he wasn’t about to do it again; it didn’t feel right to. So imagine your shock when you come through the cabin door, announcing your arrival and nearly getting tackled to the floor by your giant lover. 

“Jason, I missed you too but I can’t breathe,” you laughed, feeling him loosen his grip on you before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss, his tongue swiping across your lip. A soft sigh leaves your lips and you drop what you have, shutting the door with your foot and ridding yourself of your coat, not caring where it falls. 

Jason can feel the bulge in his pants start to grow and he’s sure you can to by the way you run your hand over it. A shiver runs through his body before he yanks you over to the couch, wanting to be inside you as quickly as possible. “I missed you so much,” you whimpered against his lips when he lays you down gently, his frame moving between your legs and settling against your lower half. With a soft kiss to your palm before placing it on his heart, Jason told you that he loved you without having to speak before bending down again and reconnecting your soft lips with his. 

The cabin was quiet except for the soft pants and moans that came from the two of you as Jason practically humped your leg, his hands groping at the mounds of flesh on your chest while his lips worked wonders on your neck. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute and just as you were about to start peeling clothes off, Jason shot up and practically fell off the couch. “What? What happened? Is someone here, do I need to hide?” You asked with swollen lips, watching him hold one of the couch pillows against his front. 

“Jason what’s going on? Are you okay? Were we going too fast?” Your eyes never left his face but he stared at the floor as the gross, wet, warmth of his cum pooled inside his boxers, his pants showing a wet patch on the front to which he hesitantly showed you. he was ready to be teased but when you told him to come back to the couch, he did. 

“Look at me,” you said, gently cupping his face which was blushing a pretty shade of pink. “It’s alright. We haven’t been together in a while and you didn’t touch yourself while I was gone did you?” When he shook his head you smiled at him softly. “It’s natural to get worked up like that, it doesn’t mean we still can’t have any fun.” You whispered to him, watching his eyes narrow at you slightly before he grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you to the bedroom; challenge accepted. 

[slasherlouvre]

🐻 do you have a comfort object? what is it?

🌟 what is something you’ve been proud of recently?

🌺 describe your aesthetic (even if it’s just what you’re wearing now)

📝 do you have a WIP (work in progress)? share a piece of it!

🐻 : Yes! It's the 5ft long ridiculously soft pillow I sleep with. I'm a very odd sleeper in general, and I have like 4-5 regular sized pillows on my bed too, but I cannot fall asleep without hugging this particular pillow. I have to be hugging something in order to sleep, and since the Sinclair boys aren't an option, well it's the next best thing.

🌟 : I'm really bad at giving myself credit for anything good, but small things are also important, so I'm gonna say I'm proud of not calling in to work recently. I've just been feeling extremely down, and all I want to do is stay in bed, but I've still been pushing through and going to work :')

🌺 : sweaters, entomology, notebooks, willow trees, golden evenings, the sound of rain/running water, frogs ribbiting, the oversized shirt-panty pajama combo, daydreaming, yearning for a future that doesn't exist, missing a past never experienced, art, comfortable silence, hugs that make you feel at home, glittery eyeshadow and chapstick, sleeping with tangled sheets and messy hair, dancing to music when home alone, finding comfort in the sadness.

📝 : I've got an embarrassing amount of wips on here, but here's the intro to 'Beware the Huntsman' (my dark! Lester predator-prey fic)

↓

He suspected you were kind. But then again, he recognized it had been a suspicion largely rooted in hope. Hope that the way you had gently smiled at him and introduced yourself was more than just standard politeness- or at least, could eventually become more.

And then you laughed.

A joyous, sweet sound you had freely given him when he had joked about business being 'dead' to your travel companions who were far less agreeable. Laughter unlike the forced, flat chuckles he normally received to 'humor' him for his help.

It really was his intention to spare you from the fate of your friends. Whether that meant by harmlessly sending you off on your way with a little white lie that they'd abandoned you, or perhaps keeping you from his brothers altogether, he didn't know. What he did know, was that he had told you to stay in the truck with Jonesy.

[riversofmars]

Love Is The Only Mission - Part 17

“Is this… permanent?” Professor Silver asked with raised eyebrows as she came to stand in front of Helen. The linguist’s gaze appeared empty, she was staring into nothingness, even as the professor waved her hand in front of her eyes.

“Mind control is just one of my many fields of expertise, isn’t that right, Miss Sinclair?” The Master prompted and Helen nodded. “Bless. See, now you’re just a pretty song bird, its feathers trimmed, its wings cut,” he hummed. “Do get up dear, as much as I’m enjoying this, I’m sure the dear professor here is eager to do some more tests.”

Helen got to her feet and awaited further instruction.

“Stern, Crantz, brianwave analysis, get to it,” the professor snapped at the med-techs who jumped in response.

“So Professor Silver, what made you hire a spy?” The Master asked with blatant amusement and walked over to the table Liv was lying on. Benton continued her care while the other two med-techs saw to Helen and carried out the professor’s orders.

“What?” Silver frowned, her attention was with Helen, the Master’s question barely registered.

“Med-tech Chenka,” the medical director explained as he studied the unconscious med-tech for a moment. Colour had returned to her cheeks and she was breathing, but there was no sign of her waking up any time soon.

“She’s hardly a spy,” Silver scoffed. “A bit of a let down perhaps in her squeamishness but you did push her to partake on her very first day…” As she gave a dismissive wave, the Master countered with an exasperated sigh.

“Unusual for me to have to be the one to explain human emotions… Did you not notice the impassioned cries and pleas? The yearning glances? The disregard for one’s safety when trying to protect the other?” He looked to Professor Silver whose expression remained impassive. She didn’t seem particularly interested in his lecture as her eyes kept wandering to Helen who was having her brain waves recorded. Displeased by her inattentiveness, the Master raised his voice: “Do you not realise that it was Miss Chenka’s near death experience that brought Miss Sinclair’s powers to light as her emotions boiled over? She is an associate of her as it happens. I have met her before and I know all about her motivations and character. How did she fool you into thinking she was suitable for this role?” He questioned pointedly and Professor Silver realised he was being serious.

“I- There was no-” She wanted to justify herself but couldn’t come up with a suitable response, so she launched into the offensive. “If you knew, why didn’t you say?”

“When I saw how Miss Sinclair was looking at her, I knew she could prove useful in provoking a reaction,” the Master explained as he looked from Liv to Helen and back again. “I had suspected some affection between them after questioning Miss Sinclair but seeing them together confirmed it.”

“So what do we do with her now?” The professor questioned, annoyed that this would be one more thing for her to deal with.

“Keep her for contingency. In fact… she might be useful for trialing the extend of our control over Miss Sinclair in due course,” the Master mused. “I suspect she will be out for the count for a while but put restrains on her nonetheless. We wouldn’t want her to interfere while we carry on working with her friend, would we.” He turned, leaving Benton to carry out his instruction. “Were you able to map her brain during the cyonic storm?” The Master asked.

“Yes, remarkable data!” Silver nodded enthusiastically. They were heading back into her area of expertise and she seemed glad for it.

“Wonderful. As much faith as I have in my hybnotic abilities… I would rather be on the safe side where our means of control are concerned. And I do so enjoy putting that extra semester I did as a psycho surgeon to good use,” he grinned with wicked delight as they made their way to the work station and examined the brain prints.

---

Making a detour to the staff quarters took valuable time that the Doctor didn’t feel he had. He was cut off from his friends, with no way of knowing how either of them was doing and things had been serious. He didn’t have time for this! And yet, he couldn’t allow the guard to raise the alarm and arrest him. Both his friends were at the Master’s mercy right now, he couldn’t get himself locked up as well. So he tried to remain calm and go along with it all. He managed to find his way to the room Liv had been assigned easily enough since he had watched her coming here at the time.

“Oh no, I must have left my entire set of badges in there, even my key card!” The Doctor faked distress as they reached the door and he searched his pockets again for emphasis. The guard rolled his eyes and retrieved a security pass from his pocket. It opened the door with ease. “Ah wonderful, thank you so much. I must apologise for the convenience, just give me one second, I’m sure they’re here-”

The Doctor didn’t waste another moment. As soon as the guard had followed him inside the room, he whirled around and pinched the other man’s neck, expertly using a nerve stun to render him unconscious. The guard collapsed on the spot.

“Sorry about that but I have somewhere to be,” the Doctor mumbled and grabbed the security key card and identity cards off the security officer. They would come in handy. And so did the room Liv had been assigned, as it served well to hide the guard away and allow the Doctor to continue his search, finally armed with means of getting to his friends. He quickened his steps.

[dreamties]

Slashers x S/O in a LDR

A/n- Oh, anon! Same hat! Same hat! I’ve considered making something like this a few times, I was so happy to finally make them!! :D

I’m currently working on stuff for Randy Meeks, Kurt Kunkle, and Lester Sinclair- but if there’s still a character you wanted but don’t see here? Feel free to let me know, and I’d be glad to whip something up for them, as well!

Characters: Billy/Stu and Norman Bates

T/W: mostly fluff with a side of abandonment and mommy issues. and some swearing? (is damn a swear word? I used it a lot)

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Word  Count: 992

Y’all met in high school- the three of you practically inseparable. But then college happens- and you would’ve loved to stay with Billy and Stu, but the sort of situation arises where you can’t possibly turn away the opportunity. It would be such a mistake, especially for the line of work you’d like to be in. 

And now you may be thinking, Stu’s family is rich rich, right? Couldn’t they just,, buy they’re way in, so you didn’t have to part? Well...I guess they could? These boys aren’t afraid to take what they want, no matter what that entails- but I feel like there might be a lost sense of pride buying their way in. 

...plus...they may or may have not tried...and the school definitely did not accept that shit.

So with that, the three of you end up at different colleges- well, Billy and Stu are at the same place but...you’re so far away 🥺🥺

You’re still in California- but you’re far enough away that they can’t do one to two day trips to see you. It still hurts so much to be apart from them though- especially since both of these boys are so, hmm how to put it...they’re very affectionate and needy (while that last bit may be more so Stu, Billy still fits the Bill on that one).

You only visit each other on holidays and during the summer- and you always stay much longer for the summer.

When Stu sees you again, the first thing he does is wrap you in the biggest, almost suffocating hug- Billy trailing close behind him, laughing at his antics. He basically holds on to you for the entire ride from the airport back to the house (depending on who’s visiting who- but you’ll often come back to Woodsboro, and stay with Stu). 

They think about you all the time when you’re gone. It’s kind of nuts. They’ve got so many other things going on in their lives- they’re still participating in Ghostface murders, they’ve got college and Real jobs ((Stu doesn’t even need a job, but he likes staying close with Billy and having something to do !! He doesn’t like staying by himself too much :(  )) and even with all that? You still end up worming your way into their brains. Collective brainrot over you lmao /j

You call each other everyday- or every other day if schedules are tight. The good thing is...is y’all are both in Cali !! There are no stupid time zones, y’all don’t gotta worry about that >:( 

They want to make sure they know everything that’s been going on with you- even if it’s some boring class, it’s totally worth it just to hear you talk.

There’s lot of them telling you all the things they want to do to/with you when they finally see you. It’s all about the heavy yearning folks. The ache that you feel when you realize you can’t do that right now. And not for a long time. 

You just want to stay with your boys, cuddled on the couch, watching B-rated slasher films. You want to look them in their pretty, perfect eyes, and let your fears and worries melt away, while you tell them how much you love and missed them. And to finally feel your boys’ hairs through your fingers again.

And the crashing, sudden realization, after they drop you off at the airport- and you have your drawn out, tearful goodbyes...the kind you see in movies- that you won’t see them again. Not like that, at least. And not for months. It was back to counting down the days again. Being thankful for every little moment you had with them- and every call, and every weird text message they sent. Allowing every soft, intimate moment away from each other to guide you back home.

Billy’s not great at dealing with his emotions...especially in positive ways. The relationship can definitely be super hard on him, even if he doesn’t really show it. It brings up a lot of his abandonment issues with his mom :( Having you go off to college is losing part of his support system, and it physically pains him to not see you in Woodsboro. You’re part of his little found family with him and Stu. And when you’re not there? Sometimes it feels like he’s lost you. that you’re not coming back from school, and you’re going to have left for good. Which is not true at all, and he knows that...but god damn is it hard to not listen to that dark, nagging voice sometimes. 

And for Stu? He doesn’t mind as much. He doesn’t share this same trauma involved with it that Billy seems to have. But it still hits him in all the wrong places. He’s more likely to show his true emotions than Billy. And that’s actually really good !! He’s able to properly communicate with you whats going, where he’s at with things. 

It can be kind of exhausting trying to translate Billy’s feelings to you- for all parties involved. Or Billy, who’s learned a certain way to communicate that works, and then having to find a new way that makes sense over text and phone calls. Since you can’t see all his body language, and the way he tenses up when he’s filled with Big Emotions. 

TLDR; dealing w/ emotions is tough, doing it via limited technology is harder :(

and y’all know it’s tough on each other- but like hell you’re not gonna make it work with each other. Y’all are meant to be, even if the relationship is in a bit of an odd spot right now. 

You always have to remind the boys that this is only temporary. just until your 4+ years of schooling is over, and then you can move back to Woodsboro. Then you’ll have all the time in the world to plan your lives together.

Norman Bates 

Word Count: 784 

You meet Norman at his motel. You’re just passing through, on your way to a gathering with some of your family. He’s a little odd, but such a gentleman, that you make a note to stay at his motel on the way back home, as well.

Norman’s completely enamored by you, and you say “I’ll see you soon” that first time, he can nearly feel his heart skip a beat. He’s a smiling, happy little mess about it. You wanted to come back here, for him? He can’t wait for it.

Part of him was worried you wouldn’t come back, and that part of him was very scared- but you were so genuine, he could tell you’d be back. For real.

He still finds himself surprised, when a few days later you’re back there. When you leave, you give him your home phone number and address. Letting him know if he was ever going through your town, and he needed a place to stay that...well...he was always welcome at yours.

Y’all aren’t even dating at this point, but you definitely felt this spark- this connection- when you met. It was unlike anything the two of you had ever felt before. So...your relationship starts off slow. It builds overtime. 

It had been a few weeks since you met- with Norman’s work at the motel and whatever work you do, it was hard to find time between it all- but you’re finally able to start weekly phone calls with each other. Catching up with each other, asking him about the motel, and his hobbies...he’s so thrilled when you talk to him about the taxidermy! Not many folks are very er...into it. So it’s a nice surprise for him that the person he likes...cares about what he likes.

Further into y’all’s relationship, the weekly calls will turn into twice a week and sometimes and slowly, slowly melt into sending letters with each other as much as you can. Every few weeks or so, you’d get the sweet pleasure of seeing Norman’s simple letter in your mailbox. Smiling as you spot your name in his nice, neat handwriting.

Often you’ll include clippings from articles or magazines that reminded you of him, and little photos of yourself, your family (and pets if you have any) and critters, and bugs and shots of nature. He loves the ones you send of birds and trees the most- but he keeps every single one you send him. He has a whole drawer full of your letters.

A while into exchanging letters, the two of you begin signing off every one with an “I love you”. It’s not until you see each other in person again that you fully realize your feelings. I mean, they were always there- but it took the pair of you an impossibly long to speak it out loud- to make it official. 

It had been just under a year since you met- and you’re finally back at the Bates motel. There’s no special reason, you’re not seeing family, per se. But you’re starting something you should have started ages ago. Every part of your being is teeming with nervous excitement- what if you had read the letters all wrong? Every I love you, meant as friends?

You're quick to let him know of your arrival- he’s surprised, he didn’t expect you and you wrap each other in a large hug. You don’t let go for sometime, and when you finally do, you still clutch on to his smooth, slender hands. You lean into him, “I’ve missed you.” He looks at you with soft, shiny eyes, lost in your own. You press a subtle kiss to his lips, and pull away soon after. You feel your face get hot, and you can only imagine that Norman’s face would be bright pink.

He doesn’t say anything at first, simply squeezing your hands. “I did, too,” he smiles. It’s so delicate, and you can’t help but hold his face in your hands- studying every little detail. Of course, he sent you photos of himself from time to time- but it wasn’t the same.

The week that you spend with him is magical. When you leave you already find yourself missing the time you had with him- but you suppose that feeling and the wait to see Norman- was worth it. Plus, you still had the phone calls and all the letters with I Love You in them. Besides, with time, you’d be back at his motel- or he’d finally take you up on your offer, and you could finally spend a sunny morning, lazing around cuddled with each other in your bed, in your town.

[cloud9in]

The Half of It

A Mc x Poppy fic inspired by the film 

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

Author’s Note: So this will be a multiple part series that includes scenes heavily inspired from the movie “The Half of It”. I certainly recommend watching it. My version will have different twists and a different ending, and definitely more angst. It will include mature themes as the story progresses.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. This is a good thing for now.

Chapter 1- 

“Love is simply the name for desire and pursuit of the whole.”

                                                   - Plato, The Symposium

It is said that when one half finds its other, there’s an unspoken understanding. A unity. And each would know no greater joy....than this. 

 ...Except this is highschool. And in my opinion, there is no other half. Maybe the other half is a paper on Greek God philosophy due at midnight. But make that four papers, including mine. 

 My name is Bea Hughes and let’s just say...this is not a very happy story. Well maybe some parts are, but you’ll have to read to find out. I come from a small town called Farmsville, and when I mean small, I mean really small. Except the highschool seems fucking huge, with never ending hallways and when you do somehow find the end, there’s usually two inbreds eating each others mouths off. Lucky for me I am the epitome of antisocial, reserved, an introvert, or whatever the inferior beings, aka every other senior, calls me when they think I can’t hear. But I hear everything, including that one time Bradley Denbrough, upcoming hotshot actor, or so he claims, found out about a crush a poor unsuspecting freshman had on him. Everybody knew what Bradley and his goons did to that boy, even the adults, but no charges were pressed. This town is as conservative as it gets, but no one knows of my secret. I carry this school on my back when it comes to having everyone graduate, but that’s all I am to them, a pawn. And that’s all I wanted to be, nothing more and nothing less. I preferred to be in the shadows. 

 ***

 ...Except the mandatory Senior Talent Show forced Bea out of her hibernation hole. The thought haunted her as she sat in the dance studio, the last fucking place she wanted to be. Dance was so not a Bea kinda thing, but the blonde knew exactly why she granted herself the misery of picking the class. Poppy Min Sinclair, the golden girl of Farmsville High, the preacher’s daughter on a more serious note. She is...the most fascinating girl Bea ever laid her eyes on even if her boyfriend was a complete asshole who sermonized his duties as her future husband. Like seriously? Poppy has got to have some screws loose to date such a fake loser who plagiarizes all of his speeches at sunday church, and once literally begged Bea to write an apology letter to his father for him after completely upending their summer cabin. Except the blonde wrote the opposite of an apology, it went something like this…

 Dear beloved donkey, I mean dad,

 I am terribly sorry for inviting 20 hookers to the summer cabin. I have these strange impulses and you should at least be grateful I didn’t invite the big boss as well. His wife came though, in many, many ways. You should get the carpet changed. 

 Sincerely, your STD free son

 It was safe to say that Mr. Denbrough had a near heart attack after reading it, and Bea did kinda feel bad, kinda. He never mentioned the letter to Bradley though, instead silently calling up the owner of Teopoli Catholic Summer Camp and essentially deporting the boy to Canada for the summer. No son of his would end up in hell was what the old man preached everyday from then on. It was the quietest summer Bea had ever experienced. 

 Being the towns outcast, Bea could have her fun when she so chooses to, but that didn’t pay the bills. In fact, the multiple essays that people paid her to write was her way of surviving and taking care of her mother. They weren’t very rich but Bea worked with what she had, helping her mother manage the farm, which included getting on her knees and wrestling the pigs. And that’s how she was gifted the name “pig girl”, stupid Bradley and his fake friends just had to wander too far and catch Bea in the act. She swore a remixed video of her hog calling surfaced the web at one point and that gave the blonde her five minutes of fame. Boy was it an awful time in her life. 

 Bea worked her mother’s previous job as station master or signalman for the trains that passed through, even if it barely paid her shit. The secluded feeling of sitting in that booth and having a moment with her thoughts was enough to give her purpose. Bea was fond of poetry and it usually helped her come up with song lyrics.

 Song lyrics…

 That she would have to sing at the talent show. A huge sigh escaped her lips as she slumped further into the ground, maybe hoping she could bury herself six feet under. It wasn’t that Bea hated singing, no she absolutely loved it. Playing her guitar at night and belting out lyrics that only resulted in her mother banging on the ceiling below in efforts to shut the blonde up. But the mere fact that she’d have to sing in front of the ruthless seniors rubbed her the wrong way. Something would go wrong, it always did. Bea was shaken out of her thoughts when Poppy crossed the center of the room, moving her hips slowly to the sound of Rihanna’s voice. The class chose a slow r&b song to choreograph today and of course all eyes were on Poppy.

 If i’m your girl say my name boy

let me know i'm in control

 Her silky blonde locks swayed as she danced to the beat, hands thrusting sensually along her sides. Bea stared in awe, almost like Poppy was the only one in the room and a spotlight illuminated every movement, every curve. Except she definitely wasn’t the only one picturing Poppy in that way. Carter, the school quarterback leaned against the railing, arms crossed and eyes trailing the rise and fall of her chest. 

 Got me wondering, I’m wondering if i'm on your mind

 Bea sat up straighter but nearly lost her bodily functions when Poppy locked eyes with her before spinning away. It was simple eye contact Bea, don’t let it get to your head. You already have multiple lyrics inspired by Poppy offering the bare minimum in human interaction. She doesn’t actually like you. Poppy is popular and has the perfect life...and boyfriend, even if Bea heavily disagrees. Poppy was a bitch of course, but not a bitch bitch. Unlike the other wannabe mean girls, the blonde didn’t give Bea hell, well that was because the girl paid her zero attention. She seemed distant, off in her own world, or well in her parents world learning the strategies of business. Poppy was expected to follow in her parents footsteps and keep up with her reputation of being the richest in town, and of course a faithful future wife. So fun. But the blonde had other prosperous dreams of travelling and following her passion of music and dance. Highschool was her only outlet and she took advantage of it any chance she’d get. Bea knew this because she would ride her bike every friday night to the school and watch Poppy dance from outside the glass window. Maybe Bea realized it was kinda creepy, but she’s dumb enough to not realize her obvious growing attraction. I mean who pedals miles just to watch someone trip on their feet? 

 ***

 The sound of the bell caught everyone's attention and the teacher slowly lowered the music. Bea watched as Bradley approached Poppy and smothered her with kisses and praises. She rolled her eyes painfully, this kind of PDA definitely wasn’t it, she could have gone her whole life without seeing that. She walked silently through the crowd of kids in the hall, everyone was laughing and talking to their friends. All Bea could allow her mind to focus on was the very intimidating billboard of names a few feet across from her. 

 Winter Talent Show Sign-Ups (Mandatory For Seniors)

 Bea glared at it quietly before signing her name on the sheet, sealing her inevitable fate. Through the hustle of students, Carter watched the blonde with a yearning look from afar. This should be great…

 The next few classes were a blur and Bea eventually found herself getting up to hand Ms. Kingsley her paper. The older woman looked at her with a knowing glance as she took a generous sip of her coffee, which was 75% tequila.

 “6 different interpretations on Plato? Colour me impressed Miss Hughes.” 

 Bea shrugs nonchalant, “yeah well would you rather read their actual essays?”

 “Oh hell no.” Kingsley feigns shock as she looks at the stack of papers with a comical expression. She takes another sip, watching her younger, prodigy of a student carefully. “You know there are places outside of this godforsaken town where you can put your talents to use... Real use. I teach at Belvoire University occasionally.” Ina winks and slides Bea an application, studying her initial reaction. “It’s...in New York.”

“Damn right! The Big Apple.”

 “Kingsley you know I have to stay here. It’ll be easier for me to manage the farm and be close to home”, Bea says confidently even though her body language displays otherwise. She predicted the big sigh filling her ears before it actually happened and it still managed to faze her. “Who ever said you had to do anything? What about what you want to do?” Bea doesn’t make eye contact with Ina, that woman could convince you to do just about anything with a certain look. “No we are not doing this. You can take your reverse psychology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m outta here.” The blonde stomps out of the classroom, the sound of Ina’s chuckles still ringing in her ears.

 “Hey! Everyone in this town fears God, but you know what God fears? My ability to hide a bottle of Don Julio in my left boot.” Ina pulls out the newly bought bottle and cradles it. “Come to mama.”

 ***

 Bea rode her bike alongside the dirt road, Kingsley’s words on replay the entire ride. Maybe she did deserve to experience something more than what this town had to offer. But would her mother manage without her? Sacrifices, sacrifices. Bea was used to making those for her mother after her father’s death. What would her dad think of all of this?

 “Hey!”

 He’d surely smack Bea upside the head for the little antics she pulled occasionally. And then he’d buy her vanilla coconut ice cream and ask for every single detail of what happened as they sat and laughed together. That’s the kind of relationship Bea would have had with her father, she liked to assume so. She also liked to assume that she’d get home safely everyday without a scratch, but then there’s Carter.

 “Hey wait up!” 

 The jock seemed to be running ridiculously fast and crashed right into the rear end of Bea’s bicycle, sending her face first into a mount of dirt. The initial impact was enough to boost the blonde straight back up like nothing happened and into a fighting stance, fists out and eyes wild. Very scary Bea. When she realized it was him...well it only pissed her off even more. “What the fuck Carter! You asshole!”

 “I’m sorry Bea! Here let me help-”

 “No! Move away! You- my bike- I…” Bea groans frustratingly, stepping away from the wreck as she tries to catch her breath. Carter watches her sheepishly, rubbing an envelope between his fingers awkwardly. After a few minutes of painfully uneasy silence he speaks up, “Okay...I didn’t want to ask you this way but I was wonder-”

“Oh, so you practically break my ass and now you want me to do you a favour? Real nice way of communication you have there Mr. Quarterback. What is with you and those freakishly large muscles anyways? Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t hear your avalanche built ass coming from behind.”

 “Hey! They are not freakishly large!”

 “I hate to break it to you Jackson but mine are significantly more appealing to look at.” Bea smirks widely, flexing her arm as best as she could. It’s a work in progress… just bare with her.

 It didn’t take much effort for Carter to break out into a smile and look at her fondly. Maybe there was more to this girl than just being a human dictionary. Well that’s what people called her, and he maybe believed it at first.

 Bea noticed the lack of response and shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Listen, its $10 for three pages, $20 for three to ten, I'm not in the over-ten-page biz.”

 “No..no I’m not here to cheat!” Carter blurts out. “But I’ll let you know if I do plan on- anyways. I uh..” He hesitates before handing her the envelope. “What’s this?

 “Well you see it’s a letter..”

 “Yeah but who writes letters these days?”

 “I thought it seemed romantic..”

 “And I thought women writing Jeffrey Dahmer letters in jail seemed romantic”, Bea says sarcastically, her smile dropping instantly after catching a glimpse of Poppy’s name at the top of the paper. It was like the blood stopped flowing through her body for a few seconds as her mouth went dry. This had to be the work of the so-called God everyone praised in this town, or it was one cruel coincidence. Bea wasn’t sure why seeing her name made her heart beat ten times harder, but it also wasn’t a necessarily uncomfortable feeling…

 “I- I can’t help you.”

 “But if you just add a few more words-”

 “I’m not writing a letter to Poppy Min Sincla- to..to some girl for you. Letters are supposed to be authentic, from the heart, your own words, your...feelings.” Bea hurriedly turns to grab her bike, suddenly losing all interest in being social. 

 Carter was afraid this would happen. But he was stubborn. “But I can pay more for authentic!” 

 Too bad Bea was stubborn as well. “Just get a thesaurus...Good luck, Romeo.”

***

 Bea sat in her room, strumming away softly at the strings of her guitar. Some of the keys were off but the old thing still worked, and that was good enough for her. She could hear the tv blasting downstairs, her mother most likely watching the news. There’s something about old people and news, were they secretly ogling the news anchors? Just like Bea ogled Poppy any chance she could. The blonde frowned to herself, her eyebrows crunching together in question. What so hard about writing a letter to Poppy? It’s not like it's coming from her. Well it technically is, but Carter is taking the credit and Bea never had a problem with people taking credit for her words. So why did this very thought prove to be such an inconvenience? Lucky for Bea, her mind drifted elsewhere when she heard a painful snap. Even if it wasn’t physically connected to her body, she felt a horrible ache. Slowly peering down at the guitar in her hand, Bea found that the neck of the guitar had miraculously split almost clean off, a splinter of wood just holding it intact. She wanted to scream but nothing really came out, except air of course. Much to her disapproval, this was definitely a result of her strength. Stupid muscles couldn’t contain themselves at the thought of Carter being with Poppy. Now how could that be? 

 But now she had no guitar. And no guitar means no strings to strum, and no lyrics to sing, and no talent to show at the talent show. Now she was in trouble. Probably because she knew that the only way to get the money to replace the guitar would be through sealing the deal with Carter. Oh fuck it!

 ***

 “One letter. And enough money to buy a new guitar.”

 “Deal!”

 Bea turns away with a sigh, completely ignoring Carter’s high five. Now all she had to do was write this letter, and pray that Poppy wouldn’t completely consume every fiber of her being in the process.

                                 -------------------------------------------

End note: So how we feelin’? Carter and Bea Brotp??

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy

[gravesightings]

So, I see very little content with trans women so I wanted something like the slashers are dating her but they never had sex or saw her naked and she tells them she's trans, she's very nervous and scared about it. How would they react? For Asa, the Sinclair twins, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba and Brahms (Again, if you don't feel comfortable or is scared to do something wrong, anything like that, it's super ok if you don't want to do it, i totally understand 😊😊). Have a great day!! ❤

sorry it took so long but I wanted to make sure I did this justice!! hope you like it! kiss kiss. 💕

slashers reactions to: their s/o coming out as a trans woman

asa emory / the collector

listens attentively and is very patient with you overall. when he sees how nervous you are, he would automatically turn all his attention to you. he doesn’t have much of a reaction – just gives you a curt nod in response.

not the most talkative so you don’t have to worry about him flooding you with questions. unfortunately this also means he’s not very good with verbal reassurance.

but hey, he’ll make up for it by taking your hand in his, gently rubbing them with his thumbs. feel free to wrap your arms around him and he’ll do the same.  

you definitely won’t be seeing any of it (yes, he’ll make sure), but he’ll do his research. anything and everything about trans women: coming out, dysphoria, transitioning. he’d be a little disappointed in himself for being so in the dark about it.

much more careful. he’ll try his best to be affectionate with you without coming off too strong. before he usually just leaves you alone to do whatever, but recently he’s been making a conscious effort to spend more time with you. wordlessly pats on his lap and opens his arms. a little awkward but just wants you to feel more comfortable around him.  

bo sinclair

would immediately sense your unease and try to force it out of you. not the best to approach with this kind of thing. bo would be the type to assume the worst right off the bat - so are you cheating?

horrible temper to match. either spit it out or he’ll force it out of you. once you actually do tell him, he’ll be speechless. unfortunately he’s not the most accepting of the bunch. immediately asks a million questions and expects you to answer all of it.

if you can’t, he’ll storm off and try to divert his anger elsewhere. maybe let him be for a while. this would probably be the only time he’ll ask his brothers for advice. knows he’s not very good at all this sappy emotional stuff, that’s vincent’s thing. bo doesn’t really take their advice however, but he thinks on it.

very awkward. does he treat you the same? do you want to be treated differently? tries to pretend like nothing happened but he’s clearly more withdrawn than normal. (cause uhhh he sorta fucked up and yelled at you for coming out to him and he still feels like an asshole.) he just doesn’t want to hurt you like that again.

has no idea what to do but god damn it, he’s willing to try anything. if he comes off as misogynistic you can call him out on it and he’ll be willing to learn. it’ll be a slow and painful process but he’s ready to give it a shot. (catch him beating up a fellow who misgendered you on purpose.)

brahms heelshire

just a lot of silent nodding. brahmsy here watches you a lot so he’s already had it figured out before you even approach him about it. would probably only say “okay,” and pull you in his arms to cuddle for the rest of the day.

was raised in a strict household so his views are super outdated but fortunately he doesn’t give a shit. all he needs is for you to follow the rules and give him all your undivided attention. do that and he won’t care for much else.

no further questions asked but he’s a curious man so he’ll start watching you more intently from now on. it’ll be painfully obvious but he’ll deny all your insulting accusations. him? watching you sleep last night? how dare you accuse him of such a thing!

so you ...won’t have sex with him then? ... okay, how about now? how about after supper? tomorrow, then? not much will change. still a giant hornball and won’t even try to tone down the touching unless you threaten to give him the silent treatment. distract him with the other kind of touching.

combat the horny with some yearning. pet his hair, cook for him, give him a kiss every morning, hold him like you love him and he’ll forget how to function. brahms would be too caught up in the feeling of being properly loved and cared for.

bubba sawyer

no clue what that is and what that means but he feels guilty that you’d be nervous around him. would pick you up and hold you in his arms until you feel better. this man will be glued on you the whole day unless you tell him otherwise.

if you decide to explain it to him more thoroughly, he’ll accept you in a heartbeat. don’t you worry! bubby loves you no matter what! if any of the family disagrees, he’ll automatically come to your defense.

goes on as normal. it isn’t really a big deal to him so there won’t be any big changes in your relationship. bubba would just be a little more attentive when it comes to you.

any hint of discomfort and he’ll come running to the rescue! holding you would be his go-to problem solver. if not, he’ll share with you whatever activities he does when he’s feeling down. listening to the radio while he works, taking short walks, playing with his little knick-knacks, etc. anything to take your mind off things.

bubba protective mode: activate! babe is this guy bothering you? BRRRRR. problem solved. he can’t bother you when he’s in pieces! nobody dares to even look at you wrong unless they have a death wish.

jason voorhees

equally as nervous. he doesn’t quite understand right away either, so please take the time to explain it to him. jason won’t have much of a reaction aside from the occassional bob of his head.

despite his very traditional upbringing, he’s quick to accept you. you’re the love of his life after all! he’s pretty much convinced himself that he won’t be needing anyone else besides you, so he’s already set for life.

what do you need, exactly? jason doesn’t know anything about being trans so he doesn’t know what to do. does he even need to do anything particular? what if he can’t find what you need and you want to leave because of it? overthinks and worries a lot.

also starts to keep a closer eye on you. he has no idea what that feels, but if you do decide to confide in him, it would give him a sense of relief. at least he'll be able to offer you a shoulder to cry on.

gives his all with the little things to make you smile. fresh flowers for you everyday! anything that could make your day just a little bit better, he’ll go to great lengths for it. if you somehow mention your favorite candy bar, he’ll trek all the way to the nearest gas station to get it for you. no really! it’s ok!!! six hours of walking is nothing!

jesse cromeans / chromeskull

chances are, he would have already known for some time. jesse would be paranoid enough to have placed hidden cameras all over his home. mostly for security reasons, but also because he likes seeing what you’re up to even while he’s away.

sensing your unease, he’ll instinctively tug you towards him to hold you in his arms. what’s wrong? jesse would stroke your head to soothe you, even as you start to confide in him.

again, he’s already very aware but he’s not going to confess to that. (don’t expect to know about the cameras either) wouldn’t say much initially, just does his best to let you know he’s here for you.

whatever you need will be given. even if you actually don’t need it, he’ll provide. would you want top/bottom surgery? medication? on it. he’ll even drive you to the hospital if you want. mental health issues? here, he made a contact list of all the available therapists in the area.

does his research and is well-prepared. however, he's decided that boundaries no longer exist. since he’s gained a heavy sense of responsibility over you, he believes that he owns you at this point. jesse’s going to take care of you whether you like it or not.

michael myers

okay, and? another stalker who already has it figured out before you even tell him. appreciates that you would trust him enough to tell him but he still has no reaction to it whatsoever.

michael is very observant so he’s going to notice if you’re acting even slightly different around him. problem is, he’s not willing to talk it out and would just grab you out of nowhere to intimidate you into talking about it. (grabs you and stares at you menacingly = michael-speak for “tell me what’s going on.”)

once he knows, he’s taken note of it and carries on like normal. michael won’t comfort you unless you’re on the verge of an emotional breakdown so don’t expect much from him. really, he’s just going to squeeze you in his arms and expects you to stop crying because he’s done the comfort thing.

unless the threat is another person then he’ll gladly get rid of them for you. emotional support is a whole different game he’s not willing to play. mental support? he’s not qualified for that. financial support? yeah sure, he’ll get you things you need if he happens to feel like it.

michael doesn’t appear to be outright supportive of you - but god forbid he happens to hear anyone badmouth you in any shape or form, they’ll simply cease to exist.

thomas hewitt

he would have mixed feelings about it because he was raised to think differently. the rest of the hewitts would have a lot to say about it, naturally. so expect frequent talks about your sexuality.

if that makes you uncomfortable, then feel free to confide in tommy. he loves his family a lot but he knows they can be too much sometimes, so he’s happy to help you in any way he can.

would keep you with him at all times. maybe not around the gore, but still with him in the basement somehow. the rest of the family don’t like going down there anyways, plus, he’s happy to spend more quality time with you.

with tommy on your side, the hewitts would eventually learn to accept you. they’d be horrible at first but if you have the patience to teach them otherwise, they’re willing to listen. luda mae would be the most accepting. hoyt would be stubborn, but there’s not much he can do.

once you’re fully accepted into the family, they’re with you ‘till the very end. (much like tommy himself!) nobody would dare cross you. not on their watch.

vincent sinclair

anxiety who? it’s mother-hen override time. all his previous hesitance would be out the window in two seconds flat. you’re nervous about something and he wants to comfort you asap. vincent would hold both your hands in his to calm you down.

“thank you for telling me,” would accept you and hold you in his arms without a second thought. not the type to barrage you with questions either but he’s also not very good with verbal reassurance.

big cat energy. he doesn’t have much to say so he’s going to do the next best thing: physical affection. while normally shy, he’s willing to push aside his own insecurities for the sake of making you feel better.

no words, just a lot of little things. since he doesn’t know what to say, he’s just going to sit and sculpt you this cool-looking dragon. do you like it? might be kind of boring if you’re not into that kind of stuff. if not, he’s willing to sit down and learn a hobby of yours instead.

a lot more willing to be open with you. he’s normally a very closed-off individual, but he’s willing to be himself around you in hopes of encouraging you to do the same.

[amateurwriter89]

STAY

A RojasCorp Fic

She couldn’t remember how they ended opening a bottle  of scotch but that was their thing, get drunk with expensive liquor and suddenly they were there, laughing and retelling stories about their time in boarding school. So, yes, they were drunk in memories and alcohol.

And perhaps that was the main reason Andrea started to feel things that she thought were buried in the past. She couldn’t stop looking at her friend, noticing how relax she was, after all, those cute dimples in her cheeks only appeared when she felt comfortable enough.

Andrea lost track of the conversation because in her chest a warming feeling was growing. Her heart was beating fast and her blue eyes couldn’t stop watching Lena’s lips, remembering how her perfect teeth tended to bit after a sultry kiss.

Her fingers trembled when her thoughts recalled the feeling of porcelain and smooth skin beneath them and she wondered how differently Lena’s body would feel now. Years seemed to have been generous with her, making her more attractive, more desirable even, and Andrea was itching to touch and discover the differences between younger Lena and this beautiful woman.

Could it be possible Lena would feel the same curiosity as her?

A part of her brain, a small and sober part, was yelling  that her desires were wrong, forbidden. They were just starting to fix their broken friendship, learning to trust one in the other again. Being physically involved could ruin their attempts to recover the good friendship they used to have.

But, were they used to be just good friends? Andrea asked herself.

When they met, they were still kids. It was complicated back then to describe how she felt when Lena was around, she felt warm and safe; she wanted to spent every minute of her day with her, holding her hand, hugging her, making her laugh. Andrea’s favorite memories were movie nights because they were the moments when they were physically closer, when Lena fell asleep on her shoulder or when they quoted the entire Titanic film, Lena as Rose and Andrea as Jack.

So, no, they were never just friends. They always meant to be something more and, when they crossed that line, it felt right, natural.

And then Andrea ruined everything for the sake of an absent father.

Was it worth it? No but she couldn’t back time. Nevertheless, Andrea was trying hard to show her devotion towards Lena.

—Are you alright?

Andrea felt the warm touch of Lena’s hand over her own.

—Do you ever think about us?

Andrea’s mouth was faster than her brain. She wasn’t thinking clearly, it was like any sanity had left her body once all her memories with her friend invaded her mind.

Her blue eyes looked attentively at their hands. She was afraid to look up and see rejection or pity, that would be worse, and despite that fear, Andrea turned her palm up, so that her fingers intertwined with Lena’s, whose hand felt just as smooth as the brunette remembered it.

—Andy…

Lena sighed. Her voice didn’t sound angry nor ofended by Andrea’s abrupt question. She just sounded tired and a bit yearning.

—I’m sorry… —Andrea let out a nervous laugh—. You don’t have to answer that.

And when the blue eyed woman tried to detach her hand, Lena didn’t let her.

—I do.

When those two words were spoken, Andrea felt brave enough to look at her friend at the eye.

—You… —the brunette cleared her throat and blinked several times—. You do?

—How not to do it? —Lena licked her lips and avoided Andrea’s gaze—. You were a very important part of my life, Andy. You still are and, let’s be honest with ourselves, you were a lot of my firsts…

—I still wish I was your first kiss.

Lena’s green eyes looked at Andrea mischievously while she bitted her low lip and that glance caused an exciting  and familiar tension in her navel. 

—Still feeling bitter about that?

—Stupid Veronica Sinclair stole my kiss.

A small smile appeared in Lena’s lips. Like she were remembering something nice.

—You had more than a first kiss, though. 

Now it was Andrea’s turn to bit her own lip. Her mind was clouded by the memory of a snowy night of New Year, the last they were going to spent in boarding school before College; they were barely eighteen when their friendship trascended, when Andrea had the courage to kiss Lena.

Both of them had bottled their feelings so well that, when their lips touched, everything felt like an explosion. They were fire beneath the sheets, there were desperation, urgency and so much thirst.

Back then, Andrea really believed that not even fate could teared them apart.

—Wanna stay? —Andrea asked while she absently played with Lena’s slender and dexterous fingers.

Lena’s cheeks were flushed, eyes clouded by a desire Andrea recognized too well. 

Her heart beat fast because she knew the answer before it left Lena’s lips.

—Yes.