#that is not my norman bates !!!!!

[isabelleadjani]

ANTHONY PERKINS as Norman Bates PSYCHO dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1960

[matsui-sinclair]

I’ll get it back, and if any of it’s missing, I’ll replace it with her fine, soft flesh!

I hope they are watching. They’ll see. They’ll see and they’ll know, and they’ll say, ‘Why, she wouldn’t even harm a fly.’

PSYCHO (1960) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

[scre6m]

Sure makes you wonder how far we all gotta go for the ones we love. Especially when things go all twisted.

JOE KEERY in MARMALADE (2024) dir. Keir O'Donnell

[slasherscream]

Hello Bee! First I want to say that I really love your writing and your characterization of the characters. I've read so much of your stuff over and over again, it's so good! Thank you so much for writing it all!

Secondly, I wanted to make a request. Sorry if this sounds dumb, but could you please make a crazy ass husbands with an artisitic s/o? Like someone who may not necessarily create art, but is really passionate about like painting, and music, and just all the types of art? I saw you added Vincent Sinclair and thought of this 😄.

If not its fine, I still want you to know that I adore and enjoy your writing! Well wishes! 🩷🩷

Qimir (the acolyte) - Qimir likes the way you get carried away by music. The way you close your eyes when you walk into a cantina and musicians are playing. The little songs you hum to yourself when you’re piloting the ship, or fixing something. Music awakens something in your soul. You feel it deeply. Love songs and tragic laments alike light a fire in you. Every now and again he’ll have the two of you go to planets known for their music, their unique sounds, and singing styles. It’s always under a false pretense. The training or mission he sends you on are usually extra grueling before you’re given your “reward”. Otherwise, he feels like a slave to the whims of your joy. What wouldn’t he do to see you smile? To relish your little gasp the first time you hear a new instrument or song? He likes to reach out, using the connection you two share, and feel what you feel. He’s so glad he freed you from your shackles of repression. The way you indulge your passion is beautiful. 

Norman Bates - You’ve always loved flowers. The first thought you had about the motel was that it needed some nice flowers outside. You’ve traveled the country, visiting all sorts of gardens. It’s an odd hobby, but one you chased relentlessly. Until you met Norman, and settled into the hotel with him. But eventually you start to crave those gardens again, so you decide for the first time not to just admire gardens, but to cultivate one. There are a few false starts. Miserable failures. Mixed successes. But Norman is encouraging every step of the way, and eventually your little motel begins to shine. Ivy creeping up trellises you place against the house. Roses, peonies, lavender, poppies. All in ranges of colors and sizes. You repaint the motel when it begins to look shabby in comparison to the garden blooming around it. For the first time the motel starts to look… welcoming. Like a true home. People in town begin to stop by and spend the night just so they can have breakfast in the garden the next morning. People propose to each other at the Bates Motel. Get married there. Honeymoon. Have the celebrations for their baby’s christening among all your flowers and saplings. Norman doesn’t have a green thumb, but he brings you lemonade and kisses your cheek and thanks you earnestly for bringing color and life into his world. 

Hannibal Lecter - This is one of the ways you and Hannibal bond. You could talk about art for hours together. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, and your raw passion for the topic makes it so that you always have something new to say to one another. Date nights consist of going to art galleries for big and small artists. Something about being in one another’s presence sweetens the art itself. Hannibal often surprises you with trips to other countries just so you can go to their art museums and partake in new art scenes. Money is a small thing to Hannibal. The conversations you have about art? Those are priceless. 

Shane Walsh - He’s never been too interested in the arts. Not before the end of the world and certainly not after it. The only art that matters now is the art of survival. He tells you this often. Tells you to look to the future. Focus on surviving the day. On perfecting the skills he tries to teach you, day in and day out, so even if he’s gone, you’ll be okay. But you make him soft. For all that he bitches, he’s always giving in. Always looking to keep you alive, yes. But he wants you to be happy too. So he takes detours, and looks for libraries and bookstores that are beginning to cave in on themselves and smell of rotten pages and wood. He’s risked entire hoards of walkers to retrieve a book he knew was your favorite. He doesn’t mind when precious bag space is taken up by whatever paperbacks you can get your hands on. One day he might find a town that he likes enough and decide to go through the trouble of turning a library into a home for you. It will be well fortified, and he won’t like how many entry and exit points it might have. But he’d love to see you in your element, surrounded by what you love. 

V (from V for Vendetta) - So much art has been ruthlessly crushed beneath the boot of the fascist government you live under. Admiring the arts, any form of it, is like trying to hold sand in your hands. Your grip grows ever more desperate to hold onto anything. But there is no rhyme or reason to what is outlawed or taken away. Little bits of your soul are chipped away, with each new restriction, with each new burning or banning. Until V whisks you away to his hideout, and suddenly the world is made anew again. You are surrounded by art, art you didn’t even know existed. Things you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You inhale everything the gallery has to offer. You feel nearly gluttonous. In each room there is something new to see, hear, read. A feast for your senses anywhere you turn. You feel alive for the first time in years, maybe ever. V, in turn, feels his own form of gluttony. He cherishes every bit of delight he brings to your world. He feels like the worst kind of miser. The lowest of villains. What could be more precious than your smile? Or your laughter? Nothing. And by keeping you here, with him, he deprives the world of you and all you have to offer. But the world isn’t kind to precious things. So he keeps you like all the other treasures of this world. Hidden. Safe. Loved. 

Candyman - You collect book nook shelf inserts. Your home is covered in shelves, just to fit them. You have more book nooks than you do books separating them. Daniel is charmed to death by the collection. By the tender, diligent way you take care of them all. You spend hours of your week dusting. Fiddling. Making tiny adjustments. There must be something meditative about it, because you never complain. The joy he felt whenever he held a paintbrush is the same joy that flashes across your face when you open a new kit. He watches you assemble your precious, miniature worlds and ask you quiet questions, every now and again. He doesn’t want to break you from the beautiful trance you fall into, but he loves to peek into your mind. “What drew you to this scene, my love?” / “This one has an enchanting gloom to it. You have such an eye for art.” / “This one looks especially fragile, you might have to be more gentle, love.” He enjoys watching you lose yourself in your hobby. He loves the way you are unashamed in your joy. How you take pride in this work. You curl up into his side, after you’ve spent hours assembling one of your nooks, and the two of you will stare at it in all its completed glory. 

Robert Neville (I Am Legend) - At first he thought you were a hallucination. He’d been hearing things more often. Seeing things too. The human mind wasn’t built for isolation, as a scientist he was well aware of that. He tries to compensate as best he can. With his mannequins. With entertainment. By focusing on his research. He only has to stay sane long enough to fix the world he couldn’t save. That’s all. But then he sees you, while he’s hunting. The sun is still high in the sky, and you don’t move like a dark seeker. You’re cautious, slow. You also don’t move like a hallucination. You don’t really look like one either. He almost doesn’t approach you, afraid he’ll discover you were a mirage. He follows you all day long, until the sun is getting too low for comfort. Then Robert approaches you, fumbling through the obvious (it isn’t safe out here), barely remembering to introduce himself because people have names. Hoping desperately that you’ll trust a strange man instead of taking your chances with the dark. But the entire time he talks to you his eyes keep drifting to all the jewelry you’re wearing. Earrings. Bracelets. Necklaces. Rings. They glint in the light. Hypnotizing in their imperfections and intricacies. You move into his home, but you two drift around each other like ghosts. You’ve been alone so long, the both of you. You dreamed of meeting another living person. But faced with the reality of it, you’re overwhelmed. Until one night after dinner he finds you in the living room, making more of your jewelry. Slow and careful. He asks you about it, and you tell him it kept you sane while you were alone. Made you feel human. Then you look up at him, and he freezes under your gaze. (It’s been so long since he’s looked into someone’s eyes. It almost hurts. He can’t imagine ever looking away.) You ask him what kept him human. He’s not sure he still is. But he moves to sit beside you on the floor, hands you beads, and tells you he's been pretty fond of movies lately. 

Lestat De Lioncourt - You were a tailor in life, before he turned you. In death, in this eternity he’s given you, fabric is nearly your religion. With your vampiric eyes, you see even the tiniest flaw in stitching. All colors look more vibrant. The world looks more alive. Even though you can never see the way certain fabrics and colors catch the light of the sun, moonlight and starlight can be just as beautiful. You drag him to fashion shows in order to soak in the new styles, and cuts of clothing. You are as endeared by couture as you are the various counter cultures that arise throughout the decades you spend together. You spend exorbitant amounts of money on the finest bolts of cloth and thread. Sewing and tailoring and designing can be done entirely on your own. In fact, you’d probably be done quicker if you were just left to your work. But Lestat gets lonely when you lock yourself up in your work room for days on end. He likes to drape himself against your back, push himself into your side. Trail teasing fingers up your arm, to see if he can get your ever steady hands to falter (he cannot.) Looking over your shoulders and seeing what latest fashion has caught your eye is his hobby. You don’t mind the company of your muse. Sometimes you even sit him in front of you as you sew, and let the sound of him talking guide your needle and thread. He hardly wears anything you don’t make. Not only is your work superior, but every piece is made of love. 

Abe Sapien - You love everything about movies. How they’re made. Sound design. Light design. Set design. The difference between digital and film cameras. Abe was caught in your orbit the minute you were recruited. Talking to you, trying to form a connection, however, did not come as easy. Awkward nods as you passed one another in the hall. Stilted, dry conversation as you ate lunch at the same tables. It was enough to drive him mad. He didn’t know why he alone was unable to form any sort of acquaintanceship with you (especially when he wanted far more than that). This all changed during movie night. You were watching the voted on film play out on screen, entranced by every individual frame, it seemed. He’d never seen anyone smile so fetchingly, or blink so little. He bravely, and quietly, asked if you were enjoying the film. You began to eagerly whisper to him all sorts of details about how the film was made, the difference between the final product and script. Apparently, it was one of your favorites. With one conversation, the bridge between you two was crossed. Abe had been so caught up in enjoying literature, he hadn't explored much of the diverse realm of cinema. Happily, you appointed yourself the esteemed position as his guide. Somewhere between sharing your tastes, late night discussions, and dry eyes from sleepless nights, you leaned over to kiss him. He kissed you back, and you both forgot all about movies for a little while. 

Vincent Sinclair - You were an avid admirer of sculptures. You went to museums, and had to curl your hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch the statues. There was something so beautiful about someone taking the time to carve human shapes out of stone and earth. To make marble resemble fabric as delicate as silk. It was breathtaking to you, really. Until you came across the House of Wax, you hadn’t really thought of wax as a means to make sculptures. Instantly, you are captivated. You forget that your car is being “repaired”, so closely do you look at every sculpture. You admire each one from several angles, for long periods of time, face giving away nothing. Vincent watches you, wanting to know what you’re thinking about his art so desperately he feels as if he’ll die. He interrupts Bo from the preparations to kill you and makes him ask you questions. Bo asks each one through gritted teeth, irritated to be playing a game of telephone, but even he is a little charmed by your thoughtful answers. When Vincent insists on not killing you Bo just shakes his head and washes his hands of the situation. You fall asleep in the town’s only motel, but when you wake up you’re in Vincent’s workshop. You’ll be able to admire his art for as long as you like now. 

Joel Miller - You tell him stories. You’re an avid collector of them. Wherever you go, you collect a story from someone. Sometimes they’re fantastical. Some myth or aesop fables that will be lost to the sands of time and the chaos of the apocalypse within just one more generation (if humanity makes it that long.) Other times they’re heartbreakingly real. The taste of an apple pie someone’s grandmother used to make for them. The memory of someone trying on their wedding dress for the first time. You have a way about you. It’s your eyes. The warmth in them. The understanding. Even after so many years of survival and fighting, you possess an empathy that should have gotten you killed by now. Instead you’re the keeper of people’s stories. You’ll be riding side by side on your horses, and Joel won’t sense any danger nearby, so he’ll say the magic words: You got a story for me today, L/N? And you always do. The sound of your voice keeps his head quiet. 

A/N: i blushed bugs bunny curled ears style. thank you for the compliments, made my day! i think yours is the first crazy ass husbands gang request i’ve written! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[artoflured]

They are talking about Arbogast

[rubylured]

I cannot stop thinking about this

[bandaalarga]

SIX FANARTS!

[fanofspooky]

Favorite horror movie characters 26/♾️

Norman Bates - Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho

[vexmoth]

dumping some august requests :]

[dolly-cat15]

Horror characters as Happy Tree Friends animals! The order goes from most recent to oldest.

[boneopera]

my other secret type: scrungly delicate old fashioned freaky dudes who oft share the characteristic of having been driven mad by their circumstances

[thegrunkiest]

Ahem. Actually - Mathieu Bellamont was a bona-fide badass and nobody can change my mind.

The man systematically dismantled and nearly exterminated an entire province's Dark Brotherhood at it's most stable, using deception and exploitation of their flaws and ignorance.

The man infiltrated a cult of killers, hellbent on vengeance for the mother he watched as a child get slain, sacrificing his sanity and morality in order to destroy a group of monsters from within - at the cost of becoming a monster himself.

Albeit he did it for selfish, obsessive reasons - had he completely destroyed the group, he would've been doing Tamriel a favor.

Meanwhile the Penitus Oculatus, a trained military force, couldn't even destroy a single Sanctuary of a Brotherhood that was literally on it's last legs. 🙃

[superstarbarbie1977]

Barbie as Marion Crane and Norman Bates from Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho (1960) for Halloween 2023

[artoflured]

Warmup from today. I’m working on something very silly and fun for a change, can’t wait to share it in a couple days.

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Norma and Norman Bates sculpture by artist "Rainman," titled Murderer

Propaganda under the cut:

Norma/Norman:

The weirdest, most charming mother/son duo ever. Bates Motel took an interesting story and turned it into something greater, exploring Norma and Norman's relationship with sincere sympathy. Their love for each other is beautiful, but destructive; their intimacy was born out of necessity and shared pain; the world won't leave them alone. It's awful to witness. It's beautiful and heartbreaking.

i mean COME ON. Norma is constantly upset that Norman expresses interest in other women. She hid her husband from Norman because she knew Norman would throw a hissy fit over them being together (which he did)

He tried to commit murder-suicide so they could die together and when he survived he taxidermied her corpse so they could be together forever

Norman “It’s like there’s a cord between us” x Norma “Honey that’s - that’s from Jane Eyre” are everything to me. I’m barely scratching the surface in doing justice to their insanity. They mean everything to each other and I love their fucked-up codependency so dearly.

After he killed her he couldn't live without her so literally absorbed her personality and started wearing her clothes and speaking for her and carrying her corpse around and when a woman he was attracted to showed up at the hotel he killed her as his mother bc of his mother's jealousy??

Gerard/Mikey:

Vocalist and bassist respectively of my chemical romance. they are insanely codependent (describing themselves as the same person just different heights etc). gerard has also licked mikeys nipple onstage. good times

Gerard is decidedly super abnormal about mikey. he has written many songs about him that are always adjacent to straight up love songs. he has also been explicitly sexual with him (giving him a pantomime handjob, caressing his chest, saying he looks like a hooker etc etc) while also constantly babying him. theyre codependent and they finish each others sentences and theyre in ickydisgusting brotherlove❤️❤️❤️❤️

Grew up together as the outsiders in their New Jersey town and spent their teenhoods together in a musty basement. Mikey learned to walk by running after Gerard and face-planting. Gerard drew comics for Mikey and told him stories. They went to a Smashing Pumpkins concert together and decided that being in a band is what they wanted out of life. Mikey learned the bass because Gerard was in bands and he wanted to join. Gerard called up Mikey after witnessing 9/11 and told him they're gonna start a band. Everything they do is together, they love each other. And isn't it so much fun to turn that incest?

Mikey Way wrote a comic where the main character, who looks like him from the black parade era, gets a woman pregnant. Which isn't incestuous on its own, but she looks like the female version of Gerard Way from the black parade era. Love is love or something

[iamstuckinthevoid]

ok so like I am trans but he/him and they/them feel uncomfortable as in they don't belong to me but I wish they could

she/her and my name belongs to me but in a way that one of my minecraft t-shirts from when I was 10 does

like its still mine but I don't want to be seen or referred to by it and i kinda wish it was shoved in the back of some drawer but I'd keep it around, yknow?

he/him is like one of those outfits you REALLY want and yknow, want to be seen in but you don't know how to get it and it would be weird to start wearing it now when you've already been wearing the other ones for so long and it looks like it would be weird and uncomfortable to wear at first but you really really want to wear it and be seen as it with no effort and you hate hate hate hate the original outfit you had and how weird it was

and it feels jarring when you hang out with people who have that outfit because you should be wearing it too and you think you're doing a good job of pretending to wear it but when you're there it's like oh. I'm failing at this and when they refer to you as the outfit you're wearing that you fucking hate you realise how much you dont like the outfit

does anyone else think of it this way or is it just me