#technically slasher

[lambkiin]

Late Nights at the Diner

Roach (Trailer Park of Terror) x AFAB!Reader

Tags; Roach 😳, quickie, two uses of degrading name calling, mutual masturbation, p in v sex, in the back of a car, a few minor timeskips because I’m insane

I will fix the “read more” formatting when I have access to a PC.

AN: First attempt at writing a fic for Roach, I think it turned out fairly well. If some sentences look weird I powered through writing this with a awful crick in my neck, have mercy. Enjoy and have fun!

I’ll also mention that the character and I are both from the deep south, so the dialogue won’t always make a whole lotta sense sound wise unless you’re aware of all the different ways we pronounce “you” down here.

Dawn was drawing close, it was nearly 3:30am. You parked your Mustang near the front door of the joint, climbing out and shutting the door with a metallic click. Sighing softly, you checked the pockets of your stained work apron. You looked around at your surroundings after locating your cash, checking out all the vehicles in the lot.

One car in particular caught your eye, it…was certainly something along the lines of junker. There was a skull and crossbones spray-painted to the side, as well as some words you couldn’t exactly make out in the dark. “Promisin’ crowd…” You muttered, sluggishly making your way to the entrance.

You were somewhat of a regular here, being thrown an excited wave by the waitress, Fiona. Knowing by now you could sit where you pleased, you returned her wave and went to sit at your usual spot- well, this isn’t going as planned. Speechless, you were completely frozen, your shocked eyes locked onto the man before you.

He sat with an arm thrown over the booth, and a cig hanging from his lips. He was also aware of his surroundings, you wanted to pass out as he turned his head towards you.

“Need somethin’ darlin’?” He quirked a brow, subtle smirk pulling onto his face. Geez, for a man who looks like he’d just changed the oil in a car…he was- very attractive. You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it. “M’ I in yer spot? Sorry ‘bout that. Why don’cha join me? I don’t bite.” He gave you a toothy grin, gesturing to the booth across from himself.

It was something about the way he spoke to you that just went straight down- oh shut up. You don’t even know his name! Fuck it, you’ve got nothing to lose. You gave him a small smile, sliding into the booth he’d offered.

“Thank you, er…?” You tilted your head up to the man, taking in his features proper.

“Names Roach, no it’s not a nickname either.” He put out his cigarette in the tables ashtray, having noticed your nostril twitching.

“Roach, I like it…rolls off the tongue.” You grinned, genuinely finding charm in the mans off the wall name.

“Ya gonna tell me yer name? Or am I jus’ gonna have’ta call ya beautiful all night?” He was far too good at these lines, it was doing its job in making you blush. You let out an embarrassed cough, composing yourself.

“Y/n, do ya do this with everyone at the diner?” You snorted, leaning towards him with your chin resting against your palm.

“Don’ think any of them truckers are as pretty as you, hm? I’ll blame it on luck I ran into ya tonight.” His eyes drifted to the side, then back to you. “Ready to order?”

~

Somehow it hadn’t been long between your arrival and his, you ordered together. You were now finishing up your coke, picking up one of the remaining fries to eat.

Fiona walked over once again. “One ticket or two?” She asked, unsure if you had been meeting him here or if it was chance. Roach spoke up right before you could, that award-winnin’ grin spread across his face.

“Just one, thank ya.” Fiona nodded in response, walking away to get the ticket squared away. Roach pulled out his wallet, ready to pay for the meal.

“You don’t have to do that, let me pay my part.” Your brows turned upwards, reaching for your folded stack of tips.

“My mama taught me better’n that, darlin’. Hell, ya could get any man to pay yer way with looks like that.” He sent you a wink. Lord almighty, you weren’t usually one for a quick fuck- but maybe you’ll indulge. Fiona brought your one ticket, accepting the cash from Roach. She turned to you, offering another wave of goodbye.

~

You and Roach stepped out into the cool nights air together, stopping for a moment while he lit up another cigarette. “Which one is yours? Vehicles- I mean.” You asked, watching as he took a deep drag off the cig.

“Mine? Oh- that one there…towards the side.” Of course the one from earlier was his, it matched him far too well.

“I suppose everything about ya is eye-catching, huh? Doin’ anything after this?” You boldly asked, one and obvious intention in mind, it was 4am. Roach nearly choked on smoke, eyes darting towards you and as wide as dinner plates. He regained his cool just as fast as he’d lost it, ready to throw down more of his smooth-talker lines.

“What for? Wanna see the interior?” He smirked, letting his cigarette hang from his mouth like it had been a half hour ago.

“Somethin’ like that. God, you look so good like that.” You muttered without even thinking, drawing closer to him for warmth in the wind.

“Well come on over then, darlin’.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked you towards his car. You’d just realized how tall he was, at least a foot taller than yourself, you fit so wonderfully into his side. It didn’t take too long to reach the edge of the parking lot, taking in the somewhat endearing sight of his beater. “The grand tour…” His arm left your shoulders, pulling the back door open. He gestured for you to get in, taking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out on the gravel.

You slid into the back seat, kicking a few bottles as you did so. The interior was in shockingly good condition for what the outside looked like. Roach followed in after you, shutting the door behind himself. “This what ya wanted, baby? Takin’ ol’ Roach in the back of ‘is Buick like a whore?” The car was perfect for you, but he looked just a bit too tall for it.

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You turned towards him, crawling forward. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pushed him against the same door he’d just closed. “Bet you’ll be the whore beggin’ fer more when I’m done with ya.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his very much exposed neck.

“Bold claim, darlin’, but I like yer enthusiasm.” He complied as you pulled his unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders, grabbing and prodding at his arms along the way.

“Oh you’ll see, sweetheart.” You whispered quietly to him, taking his jaw into your hand. You tilted his head back, your glossed lips pressing into his rougher ones. Roach hummed into the kiss feeling your other hand tugging at his tank top. He removed his arms from the holes, breaking the kiss so you could pull it completely off of him.

“Angels above…” You muttered to yourself, taking in just how beautiful his body was. You moved your head down, leaving faint kisses from his jaw to his chest. “You are just…somethin’ else.” The compliments came so easily when it came down to it, you were absolutely letting yourself fall in love with this smooth-talking stranger. Your hands brushed over his ribs, sides, his softer torso…committing every bit of it to memory.

Roach was becoming putty in your hands, he’d expected you to get straight to business. He didn’t know what to say to all this seemingly genuine affection he was receiving. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that ta butter me up.” He chuckled, pushing a stray hair from your eyes. He was bricked into oblivion with the gentleness, and the situation all together.

You brought your head back up to eye level with him, cupping his cheeks and staring for but a moment. “I’m not ‘jus’ sayin’’ it, I mean it. Ya may as well be the mos’ gorgeous man I ever did lay eyes on.” You raked your hands through his sandy brown mullet, going in to steal another one of his gentle kisses. “Do you still want this?”

“More than ever, darlin’. How could I deny ya anythin’ with how sweet yer bein’ to me.” He showed off that toothy grin again, making your heart flutter.

You reached down, undoing the silver buckle at his hips. Surprised at this point he hadn’t asked you to remove your own clothing, he seemed to be entirely distracted by your face. The expression on his face was damn near lovesick, suppose he was letting himself get invested just like you were.

After successfully getting his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, you tugged them down a bit bringing his undergarments with. Your face reddened upon catching a glimpse of his hardened cock, not having expected it look that…fulfilling.

“Damn, pretty boy. Like I said before, everythin’ about ya is eyecatchin’ as can be.” You untied your apron, grabbing it and the hem of your dress to pull it all off. Thankfully it was a day you’d chosen not to wear one of those horrifically uncomfortable things called a bra. You watched with a small giggle as Roach’s eyes dropped to your now exposed chest.

“Ain’t tha’ somethin’….shiyt.” That was probably the most emphasis you’d ever heard anyone use on the word shit, he was awestruck- thats for sure. You lifted up one leg at a time, figuring out the least awkward way to remove your own undergarments. “You are right beautiful yerself, darlin’. I ain’t seen nothin’ like ya before, and I’m hopin’ ta see ya again…” He admitted, reaching out to touch on your hips and thighs.

“See me again? Of course, sweetheart.” You settled between his legs, your own draped over his thighs. “Give me….jus’ a second.” The angle would be somewhat awkward if you didn’t do this part yourself, may as well give the man a show out of this. As much as he’s already getting.

He watched your lowers with wide eyes as your own hand trailed to it. “Oh, mama.” He whined, his cock twitching with anticipation.

You ran a few quick strokes over your clit, reaching back further to push two of your own fingers into your entrance. Your face contorted with desperation as you stretched yourself open, fingers slipping in and out.

Roach huffed a breath, reaching for his strained hardness and grabbing at the tip. “Ya just know exactly what yer doin’, don’cha?” He chuckled, that noise turning into a soft moan as he dragged his hand down his length.

You continued for a moment longer, removing your hand and looking up. Roach met your gaze, he’d stroked himself at the same pace you’d been working. “You…ready?” You asked breathlessly, receiving a quick and violent nod in response. “Alright…”

One hand met his shoulder for stability, the other was grabbed by him. “Not gonna let this go ta waste, right?” He brought your fingers towards his face, the same ones you’d just used on yourself. Your face darkened by shades as he took those two fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the underside of them. You could feel the furnace inside yourself well up again, the hand on his shoulder moving to line him up with your entrance.

The moan Roach let out was guttural, the depth vibrating the fingers he still had in his mouth. You removed them, planting the hand over his chest. You sank down onto him slowly, really just making sure the preparation was good enough. Low and behold, that- along with the ocean down there was plenty enough. “You have been far too good to me tonight, darlin’.” He whined, resting his grip comfortably on your hips.

“It’s the sweet talk, and those devilish- good looks.” You stumbled over your words, his cock finally bottoming out inside you. “Oh, Roach. Fuck-“ You moaned out, raising yourself up again and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby- you feel s’good.” His large hands clung to your hips, not quite bruising but not gentle either. “D’ya need help?” He asked, feeling your legs shake against him.

“Maybe, christ.” You tried to continue the pace yourself, the sensation of Roach joining in the efforts reaching your core. “Oh god.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss.

Your bodies moved in succession, all you could hear was his loud moans, your own, and the cars suspension squeaking away. “Y- Yer fuckin’ me so good, doll- ain’t never felt nothin’ like this.” He held you comfortingly close as the pace got sloppier and sloppier.

You buried your hand into his hair, tugging at it ever-so-slightly. “Roach…sweetheart- m’gonna…oh fuck.” A curse cut off your words, you ground down on him as well as you could. “M’gonna cum…” You muttered into the crook of his neck.

“M’too doll, feels so fuckin’ good.” His head leaned back into the window, heavy breaths and whimpers escaping his throat. “Jus’ a little longer-“ He near pleaded, still thrusting his hips in tandem with yours.

Your moans got more frantic as he reached deeper and deeper within you, that feeling in your stomach coiling up.

“Faster! Faster-“ You breathed out, feeling him speed up beneath you. “Fuck!” He could feel the building coil himself.

“S’it okay if I- cum-“ He was having trouble with his words, you knew what he was talking about.

“Yes, yes- cum inside me, sweetheart.” You were on the pill, you wanted that intimacy with him. As soon as you’d said it, his pace picked up furiously. “OH baby-“

You both moaned out loudly as he thrusted one last time, your orgasm hit you like a bag of rocks. You could feel the warmth of his own orgasm seeping inside of you. There was a moment of silence as you both rode out your endings, heavy breaths being the only noise.

You rested your forehead against his, making eye contact as your bodies shuddered in ecstasy.

“Think’m in love with ya, doll.” He muttered, squeezing your hips. His face was flushed, and he looked as beautiful as always.

“Me too, sweetheart. Y’got a landline number? An address?” You asked, leaning your body fully against his.

”I got an address, got somethin’ to write it down?”

“Oh I’ll remember.”

“Good memory, huh. I like that in’a person.”

[littleoddwriter]

Trapped | Cooper Abbott x GenderNeutral!Reader | Dark Fic

Hi there! I'm incredibly down bad for him, to nobody's surprise, so here's the first fic I wrote for him. More to come! This fic isn't exactly romantic or even really sexual, albeit with some hints to it; but I used it to get a feel for writing him, first and foremost. And also because I saw somebody wanting a fic where Reader is in Lady Raven's position at the end of the movie, and I wanted that as well, so, here. It's not exactly what was imagined when demanding that, I know, but it's something! (also, excuse the uninspired title, please, it's very tongue-in-cheek, I know, dshjkfgsdkjs) summary; You're captured by the Butcher as his last chance of entertainment - and revenge - before his inevitable arrest or death. There, you learn a lot about him, and also yourself. notes/warnings; GenderNeutral!Reader; Reader is in Lady Raven's position (Reader is a pop star, etc.); slight spoilers for the movie (but I expect you to have seen that if you're reading this anyway); Character Study; Implied/Referenced (Attempted) Murders; Kidnapping; Angst; Implied/Referenced Sexual Attraction; Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse; Mostly Open End; Dark Fic. (once again, this is not a full on romantic or sexual fic about Cooper and Reader, but more of an exploration of the character, his dynamic with Reader, and Reader's own conflicting thoughts and feelings about the situation and Cooper. there are hints of romance and sexual attraction, though. this is a dark fic and it has a mostly open ending; but it does imply a bad ending if we're realistic. if you're like me, you could also find a way to imagine a better ending to it. that's why I left it somewhat ambiguous.)

The car’s passenger door was slammed shut on you, making you jump with the force behind it. A shaky breath left your trembling lips as you waited for Cooper to settle in the driver’s seat of his wife’s car. Soon to be ex-wife, you figured. If not a widow. 

Your mind was still reeling with the night’s events. One moment, you’d been giving your best for the concert, like you always did, and the next moment, you were stuck with a wanted serial killer because you decided to play hero. Desperately, you hoped it would all be worth it, in the end. Or else this might have been the stupidest decision you’ve ever made. You should have just alerted the FBI when you got the hunch that something was up with the man, you berated yourself internally. 

“Put these around your wrists,” the Butcher told you gruffly, holding up a pair of zip ties to you. 

Stunned, you just looked at him for a long moment, your mind trying to catch up with what he was asking of you. Everything has been happening too fast. Too much, all at once. And worst of all, you were terrified. Yet at the same time, you felt for him. He was a desperate man. Trapped. Cornered. In a way, you were his last resort now. How ironic.

Cooper gave you a stern look, his dishevelled hair covering parts of the upper half of his face, but the fierce glint of desperation and murder in his eyes shone through the brunette strands. 

“Put. These. Around. Your. Wrists,” he commanded again through clenched teeth, shoving the zip ties into your chest, as your hands automatically flew up to catch them.

Shakily, you nodded and put your hands through the loop. Once the zip ties were around your wrists, the Butcher pulled them tight, the thin hard plastic cutting into your skin, rubbing it raw with every small movement. 

As soon as he was certain that your hands were tied, Cooper started the car’s engine and quickly exited the garage and driveway. In the distance, you could hear police sirens on their way to the house you had just left behind. Too late. 

“If only you hadn’t decided to play hero,” Cooper mused with a strained, almost manic, smile on his lips, “None of this had to have happened, you know? I would have let you go.”

“And let you kill more innocent people? I couldn’t bear the guilt, knowing I could have prevented it,” you responded quietly.

“As if you actually care about random people’s lives more than your own. You’re just as fake as they all are. Pretending that you’ve got it all figured out, that you’re fulfilled.” He sounded bitter, angry, spitting those last words in your direction, like your existence has personally offended him. His grip around the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

Not wanting to anger him any further, you decided to stay quiet; even though you had a million things on your mind that you would have liked to retort. 

The FBI had briefed you on what kind of man they figured him to be. A psychological profile, they called it. You had heard about those on TV before, but it always seemed silly to you. How could they possibly know what was going on inside a person’s mind without having ever met them before? With all conclusions based on evidence from crime scenes instead? It didn’t make sense to you.

Until now, that was. Cooper seemed like the exact man the FBI had described to you. Perfect on the outside, an overachieving family man, unassuming, kind, always happy and ready to lend a hand. And beneath all of that, on the inside, there was a hurt child, craving their parents’ love and approval, but never getting it. Now, he let that anger that had manifested out on people he deemed to have had it all, to have what he was missing all his life. 

Deep down, you felt bad for him. If his parents had been different, perhaps there would be one less killer on the loose. Or perhaps, he would have ended up this way, no matter the circumstances of his upbringing. Who was to say that killers like him were only a product of abuse? 

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled into another driveway, getting out of the car. His footsteps were quick and heavy, and your heart was sinking in response to those sounds. 

Ripping the passenger door open, he leaned down to look at you, grabbed your bound wrists and jerked your body in his direction, forcing you out of your seat. Stumbling out of the car, you almost bumped into him, your head barely reaching his shoulder. He really was massive. You stood no chance against him, you thought, feeling defeated. This was it, then. 

Cooper bent over and quickly picked up the bag he had taken with him from the garage, before slamming the door shut once more. And just like he had done before, the Butcher put his fingers on your shoulder, verbally giving you directions for where he wanted you to go, while keeping a dominating presence behind you, not allowing you a real chance to escape.

Eventually, you found yourself in a basement, not unlike the one Spencer, who was hopefully safe now, had been stuck in before. 

The Butcher pushed you down to sit on the cold hard chair in the middle of the room, a support beam right behind it. He made quick work of putting the ice-cold steel chains and cuffs around your wrists and ankles, snapping off the zip ties at last. 

Looking up at him from where you were seated, the sinking feeling of hopelessness creeped in. There was no way you were getting out of this alive. 

Cooper retrieved a cleaver from his bag and pulled out another chair, placing it across from you and sitting down on it, playing with the knife in his hands. He looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, just breathing calmly, idly stroking the knife’s handle with his thumb of the hand that was holding it. With his other hand, he brushed the loose strands of hair away from his face.

Once again, he was smiling at you. A smile that never reached his eyes, which glinted with murderous intent and something else that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was too big, too sharp, to be genuine. It seemed manic and desperate. Strained. And at the same time, he looked to be in complete control over the situation. 

Cooper Abbott was a man of many facades, you came to realise. 

“I was gonna stop, you know?” he finally spoke up, the tense silence broken by his voice that was laced with too many emotions at once, giving away that he didn’t feel as in control as he seemed to be. 

You waited for him to continue, not daring to ask questions.

“It’s been a while since I last felt the urge. Until you, tonight. I don’t know if it was because of everything that happened, or because I could see right through you… but it was an almost pleasant surprise to feel the urge again.

“Spencer was gonna be my last. That was the plan. Go to the concert with Riley, kill Spencer from the comfort of my home, sneak out hours later, making up some kind of lie of having to work an extra shift because of an emergency, chop him up, dispose of his body and any evidence, return home, and pretend like nothing had happened,” Cooper explained his initial plan for tonight like he was talking about something completely normal, like a family vacation he was planning instead. It was eerie, but somewhat intriguing to you. 

“And then, with time, I would have cleaned out all the houses I had bought to keep my two lives safely apart. I could have been a regular husband, father, and firefighter in just a couple of weeks, maybe months. And no one would have been any wiser on what I had done for all those years that the Butcher was active. It was the perfect plan,” he finished with a frustrated sigh, brushing his hair away from his face again with more force than was necessary. You could hear the steady, but sharp, tapping of his fingers against the cleaver’s wooden handle.

There was a long, tense moment of silence.

You almost felt the urge to apologise for ruining his plans.

“Why did you decide to stop?” you asked, unable to contain your genuine curiosity any longer.

Strangely enough, Cooper’s smile softened, his face relaxed and his eyes lost some of the fierceness in them. “Because I thought that I had finally done enough. The urge had lessened over the years, like I said, I didn’t feel it for a while until tonight. I was just doing it out of routine at this point, I think. Believe it or not, it was fun. And I wasn’t ready to give that up for a while.”

“What changed?” 

“I did… My children changed me. Riley and Logan are everything to me. And I was trying my hardest to be the dad they deserved to have. The one that they needed. A loving, fun, and especially involved, dad. I didn’t want them to feel like I did growing up,” Cooper explained in a wistful tone, “It all started out as just another way to keep suspicions away from me. Starting a family with Rachel seemed like the perfect cover. Nobody would ever suspect that a true family man could be a messed up serial killer, right?”

Despite your current situation, you felt your heart flutter. You understood where he was coming from, and you wished things had gone differently for him. But most of all, you wished that he wasn’t what he was.

“I didn’t expect to actually enjoy fatherhood, or to love my kids the way I do,” he continued after a short pause, still in that oddly wistful tone, a harsh contrast to the entire situation and his true being, “It’s so strange… With everything that happened tonight, I’m just enraged. But I’m less angry about having been found out at all. I’m mostly angry because I’m never going to see my children again.”

This time, you couldn’t resist the urge, and so you whispered, “I’m sorry,” like it was somehow your fault, when in reality, it was his decision to murder people in the first place.

Letting out a long sigh that ended in a small, insincere chuckle, Cooper got up from his chair, meat cleaver in his hand, towering over you like this inescapable force that he was to you. 

With practised ease, he took his shirt off and threw it over the chair behind himself. You had no idea why he would do that. Easier clean-up, maybe? With regret, you realised that you didn’t hate the sight. He was an attractive man, there was no question about that. But to feel such attraction, despite your current predicament, was nothing short of confusing and embarrassing to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, Cooper,” you whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wish that was true, but… there’s no escape. Not anymore. I might as well have fun one last time,” he told you quietly with that eerie smile that did nothing to hide his intentions. It only emphasised them now. 

Feeling your heart rate accelerate, your stomach sank with the realisation that this would be it for you. 

It only took two steps for him to stand right in front of and above your seated, captured, cowering form. Before you could utter another plea, Cooper’s free hand wrapped around your throat, almost covering the entire thing with his large palm as his fingers gripped onto your jaw, moving your head further back as he bent down, leaning into you.

A small noise escaped your throat, sounding both distressed and almost aroused. You had no control over that, and it felt utterly humiliating to have made such a sound in response to his actions. 

The Butcher chuckled darkly, a sharp smile playing on his lips, and a glint of intrigue in his eyes. 

“I think I’m gonna enjoy this a lot more than expected…” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. 

“Please don’t…” you tried again, weakly, your voice strained from the weight of his hand against your windpipe. 

As you struggled to breathe, and his hand only tightened around your neck, your vision started to blur both due to panic and the lack of oxygen. Darkly, in the back of your fuzzy mind, you thought that at least you’d go out with a handsome face as the last thing you'd see. 

Faintly, in the far distance, you heard police sirens. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

“If only you had saved yourself…” the Butcher whispered to you before he quickly, and with impressive force, snapped your head back against the support beam behind you, and your world went dark.

[avocadoraisin]

omg happy birthday jason i hope nothing bad happens to you on your birthday (:

[berrymimes]

the fuit gummies…

Slasher Stickers available now! 🔪✨

EDIT: if you’d like to buy some stickers, please dm me! I had to remove them from my store due to repeat issues.

[darling-i-read-it]

plsplspls can i request some norman fluff i am hyperfixating on him again 🫶🏼🥲

I was going to write this last night but got tired and have so many thoughts about norman that I wanted to be fully rested. Norman Bates you will always be famous to me bbg

Norman Bates makes me insane

If you want domestic life with a slasher, Norman is the closest you will get in my opinion. Aside from his mother, he truly is just the calmest man who gets anxiety with any kind of flirtation.

Say you meet at the diner when he goes out once. He's the town oddball. The kook. Everyone knows that after his mother died and the highway was moved, everything slightly altered in him

and you move into town and you get a job as a waitress and Norman is the nicest of your regulars. he always comes once a week to get out of the house, never stays for long because he has so much to do, and always gets the same thing.

"Eggs overeasy today Norman?" you tease. His cheeks flush as he goes to correct you, never once blaming you for potentially getting his order wrong.

"Oh u-"

"Scrambled Norman. I know, I was just pulling your leg." He flushes and smiles. He nods.

"Thank you." You maneuvered around him and to the back, dropping off his order. After he had cleared his plate he waited patiently for you to come around with his check. You always came in a timely manor and told him briefly about things that had happened over the week in town.

Today when you came back around, you had a particular smile on your face.

"Your breakfast is on me this morning Norman," you declared. He gave you a confused look. "On one condition." He cleared his throat, nodding for you to go one. "I get to come see your hotel and we have dinner over there."

a DATEEEE??????????

Norman Bates went a deep shade of red and then smiled. He had the most innocent smile on his face, you never would have guessed anything was wrong with him. In the moment he completely forgot about his mother.

he accepted gratefully, saying he would pick things up special. You promised to be by the next day around 5.

you came by the next day and Norman had never seen someone so beautiful. He saw you in your work clothes, your apron usually covered in the muck of your morning.

you were wearing something you thought date appropriate and he had gotten one of his better sweaters out of the back of his closet. One of the ones his mother had gotten for him to wear out.

He was cagey at the dinner.

You couldn't even glance up the stairs. He was already disobeying by having you in the house. But he wasn't cagey enough to deter you from having a good time.

Norman was shy but he had great conversation. All the people who came by his hotel made for great stories. You brought stories from the diner, from before you had moved out there

You noted he didn't have any help out there and he was clearly a busy man.

'Norman have you ever thought about hiring help?"

"Who would be my waitress?"

"I can make you eggs here!"

it was a bad idea. horrible even. Norman knew this but his desire to have you around was so strong, even if it wasn't technically safe for you. How long could he hold his mother back? What if he insured you were always here when someone else was, when there were people in the motel?

He started to try and find reasons to keep you around. Things that needed to be done but not necessarily as soon as he was having you do them.

You helped him paint the outside of the motel. You changed the bulbs in the sign. You got new linens and looked through the logbook for frequent fliers and silly fake names.

Norman couldn't shake it though. His mother would always be there to argue the worst of you. Even if you were helping him and not harming him, even if you hadn't made any actual move.

he wanted to kill his mother. but she was a shut in, she had no one else to help her! he was trapped in a cage of her making, one he could not leave. the dutiful son.

he made the first move. He wanted to kiss you silly since the first time he had seen you, imagining how your lips tasted in shameful nights.

You were helping him in the office. He was back in the parlor while you sat at the desk out-front. You had just checked in a couple, clearly people who were not currently married to each other.

They had used ridiculous fake names. Norman walked back to the front of the room. He looked particularly handsome, wearing a white button up shirt tucked in his slacks.

"If we were fake married, what would our names be?" you questioned. Norman took a bite of the apple in his hand and shrugged. He leaned against the desk.

"Mr and Mrs Disney," he suggested. You nodded slowly.

"Mr and Mrs Flinstone."

"Too one the nose. That show just premiered," he suggested." He looked over your shoulder at the log book. He had gotten so used to having you around, so comfortable with your presence. He liked imaginig the two of you as a married couple. The Bates Motel with two Bates once again.

"Mr and Mrs Disney it is," you teased. You looked up at him and he was so close, his face just hovering beside yours. You smiled cheekily.

Before you had even comprehended it, he had kissed you.

Norman wanted that life. He liked the idea of that life. Maybe his mother would be okay with it if you were married. Maybe he could sway her.

Without even knowing it, you had helped him muster courage to fight his mother. A problem you barely knew existed. You had heard her, you had thought it was weird you had never seen her, but you trusted Norman.

A ring on your finger would be so nice, he thought. So nice.

Finally put a cork in the townsfolks mouths.

Norman took a wife?

[wacky-wonders]

these losers

[kings-paintbrush]

YES MY WIFE!!!

My weasel wife + the ones I drew for my animatic under the cut

Once I saw an interview with Fiona Dourif titled “The REAL seed of Chucky” and I died laughing.

Also women with tired eyes are so attractive to me I’m so down bad

[lace-coffin]

can i request a headcanon where bubba is ticklish and s/n takes advantage of that to tickle him every time he lets his guard down.

How would bubba sawyer react to sibling!reader tickling them by surprise?

Requests are open!

I hope u enjoyed this! I love writing for bubba so so much!

I wasn’t sure what s/n meant so I had to google it and it said sibling name? I’m so sorry if that wasn’t what you meant 💖

It’s no secret that bubba is ticklish, having three older siblings meant she stood no chance when they’d dig their fingers into her sides during a play fight and leave her giggling and kicking.

You loved to make him jump whenever the opportunity arises. one day when you see him watching over the stew that had been slow cooking since the early hours of the morning you know the time is right. Unable to resist you yell and jab your fingers into his sides.

the reaction is instant as he shrieks and throws the ladle, it clattering to the floor. You and bubba look at eachother and pause for a beat, before breaking into giggles.

it’s not uncommon for you to sneak up on him when he’s least expecting it, finding the range of little squeaks to surprised grunts they react with hilarious. Your favourite memory is when you crept up behind her whilst she was watering the crops out back, she was completely in her own world and her reaction was priceless. You skitter your fingers along her plush stomach in a surprise attack.

Bubba squawks in response, snapping into an upright position, hose going with him and aiming straight at Drayton who had been minding his business on the pourch, having some “time away from you kids nonsense”

The sound of Drayton’s hollering was muffled by the wheezing laughs between you and bubba, clutching each other on the floor.

Bubba tries to get the jump on you but their not exactly subtle about it, giggling before they even make it fully behind you, usually you just pretend not to hear them as not to ruin it, don’t tell them that though.

Sometimes If you’ve been doing it alot recently you’ll catch bubba looking over their shoulder at you whenever their back is turned, you don’t know if you find the actual tickling or bubba’s suspicion funnier. Ironically the suspense makes him scream even louder when you do eventually strike.

Occasionally when nubbins and chop are around it becomes an all out brawl. The twins play dirty, pinning bubba’s arms down so you can attack his tummy and sides until he’s a wheezing mess, unfortunately they have no loyalties and often put you in the same predicament until you tap out. Drayton often pretends to roll his eyes and curse about how you’re “hooligans” and “he can never get a moments peace here”but he looks on with a soft smile on his face, enjoying the tender moment between his family.

[stillfrownyclownlol]

There's a knife 🔪 in the subtext here like do you get it

Does anybody hear me

(Might redraw it like that...we'll see)

Man is GRABBING her like calm down sir

Edit: This is from reds insta!!! Sorry I thought we all followed her on here so everybody knew- 😭

[yanderes-galore]

may I request a romantic yandere concept for hannibal lecter from silence of the lambs? I feel like he'd be a terrifying yandere

Hannibal is terrifying in general, as a yandere I feel he'd be worse.

I only watched Silence of The Lambs and none of the other movies currently so I am pulling from what I know for now. I only just saw it then hopped on to do the request, lol. Sorry if something is ooc :(

Yandere! Hannibal Lecter Concept

(Silence of The Lambs)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Blood, Cannibalism, Manipulation, Obsession, Stalking, Possessive themes, Biting, Licking of blood, Mentioned kidnapping.

Hannibal Lecter is a very interesting character.

He doesn't fit any sort of psychological pattern when it comes to serial killers.

He's shown to be very charismatic and can get in the heads of others with ease.

He's manipulative and hates those who are rude.

It's unclear if he has joy for killing but he does enjoy the crimes he commits.

He's described as a monster and is a cannibal in his attacks.

To keep it short, Hannibal is evil and classifies himself as such.

He'd know how to "play around" with his darling if he was a yandere.

It's impossible to say if you'd be safe on his side or not.

Hannibal is a dangerous force to everyone.

He also does not have much access to others to take a liking to a darling.

The type of darling I can think of that would be most compatible would be a psychologist darling.

You need to be someone who can establish some sort of close connection to him.

Hannibal does not seem like he'd be attached to a victim easily, someone meant monitor and converse with him would work better.

Hannibal is Observant, Manipulative, Possessive, and Charismatic.

You'd think he'd be sadistic.

Surprisingly he isn't too sadistic.

Sure he takes joy in his crimes but if we look at his heartrate he doesn't take joy from the killing itself.

Hannibal would use his charisma to run his darling in circles.

He finds it funny to see the gears in your head turn.

He's sure you're smart enough to understand what he's saying...

That's why he's picked you to open up to.

Speaking of opening up, Hannibal is going to pick you apart.

Mentally, of course.

While you may look appetizing he won't kill you.

The fun would end.

Hannibal holds respect for his darling.

To the point that if you were disrespected he'd kill for you.

He has no problem murdering others for you if he feels they're disturbing you.

If darling was someone in the psychological field then he'd treat you similar to Clarice in the Silence of The Lambs movie.

You may even bond more.

He'll make it as bloody and disturbing as he feels like too.

Hannibal does care for you in his own strange and twisted way.

A way that not you or anyone could ever understand.

Hannibal Lecter learns most of what he needs to learn from picking apart his darling's mind with questions upon questions.

You may not even know that's what he's doing while speaking with you.

Hannibal likes to mess with your mind.

If you're his darling you're subjected to that most of the time.

Hannibal both comes off as creepy and charming when talking to you.

How did you feel when he killed for you the first time?

Aren't you tired of all the staring?

They probably think there's something between you...

Well... is there?

Hannibal is the king at manipulation.

He may be a bit possessive of his dearest, too.

He keeps track of who you interact with closely.

He's a very cunning and calculating man.

If someone rubs him the wrong way when it comes to you, like harassment, somehow Hannibal will get his hands on them.

With you kept from him by glass or bars, you're safe for the time being.

Until Hannibal escapes one way or another.

The moment Hannibal gets your number you're put on edge.

He says he won't hurt you.

But how are you going to trust him?

While in the movie he left Clarice alone... he comes to visit you.

You are still an interest to him even when he's escaped.

He'll find where you live in no time at all and pay a visit.

He means it on friendly terms!

Perhaps even a little more.

Hannibal likes to study his darling and know how they behave.

He stalks you and hopes you know better than to call the cops when he visits.

The relationship between you is obviously very forced on your end.

Being a cannibal, Hannibal would like to bite his darling once he finds a way to get you compliant to him.

Not too hard... just enough to draw blood.

He laps it up like he hasn't drank anything for days and praises you.

Hannibal is still possessive out of his cell.

He keeps track of those you talk with and considers them potential victims.

It's also a reason he bites you other than the cannibalism craving he has.

Hannibal may kidnap you if he feels you'll tell someone about him.

Yet... he tries not to as the idea of you being free feels respectful in a way.

He's been locked up for years too....

Hannibal would indeed be a terrifying yandere towards you.

For better or for worse at least he won't murder you, right?

[dirtychainsawconfessions]

I'd like to have sex with Leatherface every night, it doesn't matter if his mom (from TCM 2022) ends up listening to us. I'd use straps and handcuffs on that big guy. 😍 😈 👉👈

[mechahero]

♡- DEAD I AM THE ONE, EXTERMINATING SON!

Hi! It's Mocha here with a little text post promo type of thing! This is an independent, semi selective OC blog featuring the world's most overpowered loser. Glitter pens, cute clothes, and guts are abound here with a guy that tends to be more slasher than superhero. (Blood, death, gore, cannibalism, and body horror are present here.)

. playlist ♡ rules ♡ divider credit .

[ellzilla]

working on the Meatbag animatic again have a Veronica

[fruitbythefoot7]

bylerween day 2: slashers, gore & body horror

hehe scream (1996) byler au >:D i took some Very Awkward reference pictures for this, but i think the posing turned out pretty good! they really went crazy together <3

@bylerween2023

[slasheru]

okay I had a ton of fun with the Prom Royalty poll last time, who should be THIS year's Prom royalty? (Hex is knocked out cuz he won last time... but I'm adding more of the cast in!)

[fishyvamp]

Loved the S.C.R.E.A.M unit / Android!Ghostface drabble!!

Would love an expansion to it, I definitely have some sort of 'thing' for robots

Gods me too Anon me too. I've always been a bit superstition(?) about machines, treating them more like living things rather then objects. The thought of a machine whose supposed to be emotionless slowly getting more and more obsessive. Wanting to hear you and feel you. Using their limbs to get you where they want. Especially if the robot isn't designed to seek it out. It's not in the process so why?

S.C.R.E.A.M is technically haunted. The anniversary of his death happen to be the same day you signed on. The same day your careful touch landed on his frame. Fingers splayed out on his chest as you explained to him the procedures you were going to do, just a doctor would for their patient. It flipped something in S.C.R.E.A.M., something that couldn't be picked up your scans because it's by design...