calmcoldevening

[calmcoldevening]

S/o who's a European, but slashers don't know that until she speaks in her mother tongue. Whether that be cursing, muttering, or calling them by a nickname that they haven't heard before. Please include the Sinclair brothers and Thomas, the rest you could choose. Also, it would be great if she had a hillbilly dialect, cause that would mean if they had heard her language before but not the accent, then that makes them SUPER confused.

Vincent Sinclair

• From the very beginning, Vincent thought you were just a strange American, until one day he heard you swearing in your native language. He stopped working on the statue, looked at you, and tilted his head to the side like a puppy, silently asking, "What was that..?"

• When you call him cute nicknames in your native language, he just blushes and looks away. He really likes it.

• He finds your speech cute in general. When you say something incomprehensible, and he doesn't understand what you're saying, he pretends that you're saying a scary spell.

• As a gentleman, he tries to learn some phrases in your language. Mostly cute nicknames and compliments. But with his accent, it sounds terrible, so you just try not to laugh. He really tries.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo didn't even know you weren't from around here. Until he messed up some of your stuff again and you started cursing him in your native language. Bo is like, "..what the fuck?"

• After that incident, he calls you a witch because he really thinks that every time you use your native language, you're cursing someone. At least, that's for sure.

• You often call him funny names like "My dirty boy" or "Poop" in your native language, but you say it in such a gentle voice (you're trying not to laugh) that he thinks it's a cute nickname and starts responding to it. At that moment, he has a smug grin on his face.

• He uses you and your native language to scare his victims. They clearly weren't expecting such a speech, and they were in a daze, while Bo was behind them with a bat and BAM.

Thomas Hewitt

• For Thomas, speech is basically an inaccessible function, so he doesn't really care.

• But he has learned that when you speak this language, you get worried. So whenever he hears these strange sounds, he comes to you to comfort you and let you know that he's here and everything is okay.

• He likes it when you sing soft songs or lullabies to him in your native language and stroke his hair. It gives him a sense of comfort.

• If someone from his family scolds you for your confusing words in your native language (and Hoyt might be a real asshole), Thomas is always here to protect you. He won't let anyone hurt his beloved.

Pennywise

• Pennywise loves your native language and your accent, because it's really strange and funny to him.

• He can easily transform into a person who speaks your language, but he doesn't do that. Instead, he pretends to repeat your words but makes mistakes to make you laugh. After all, the taste of your joy is better than the taste of your fear.

• Sometimes, he actually starts speaking your native language fluently to make it easier for you to communicate. He appears in your dreams and speaks in your native language. He finds it cute.

• Sometimes he purposely takes the form of your worst nightmares so that you get scared and curse in your native language. It makes him laugh. Then he just gives you cotton candy so that you don't feel so offended by his joke.

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers x reader who loves to bake sweets (cakes, brownies, cookies ect)

Slashers x reader who loves to bake sweets

Michael Myers

• While you're cooking in the kitchen, he just stands by the wall and doesn't say a word, but he stands in such a way that you can see him at any angle. He's guarding you. And he's monitoring the process, of course.

• He loves it when you let him lick the leftover dough or chocolate off your forks, spoons, and plates. It's a waste-free production, baby. And after this "taste test," he'll definitely give you a thumbs-up, like "It's edible." In general, it looks pretty funny: Michael, all so threatening and calm, with a rolled up mask to the nose and lips smeared in rainbow icing. Well, what's not a child?

• Michael is a sweet tooth, so everything that you don't give him "for a try" or just like that, he will definitely eat. So better hide your ingredients, otherwise he can "accidentally" eat them.

• If someone dares to say that your pastries are not tasty, this person was never seen again.

• Sometimes he brings you some pretty rare or just expensive ingredients. Where did he get them? Better not ask and just take them.

Bubba Sawyer

• He enjoys every one of your new pastries like a child. Despite his cannibal status, he loves sweets, which may be because he didn't get much as a child. After a good steak, it's always worth indulging in a slice of chocolate cake.

• He has a special bowl on his desk in his workshop, where you occasionally place various cookies or candies. He enjoys eating them during his breaks, so he doesn't have to wash his hands from blood and go to the kitchen. He particularly loves marshmallows.

• Sometimes he helps you in the kitchen, but it's quite rare. If it does happen, he eats half of the chocolate batter before you even prepare the cookie or cake molds. Oops.

• As soon as you take another cake out of the oven, he carefully takes it with a towel and goes to the living room with his family with a happy cheerful squeal. It means something like, "Look! Y/N made such a beauty!" In general, the twins also adore your cooking.

• His favorite dish is chocolate cake. He carefully saves the last piece for a rainy day, but ends up eating it late at night and pretends it was stolen in the morning.

Brahms Heelshire

• Brahms is crazy about sweets. He can eat them by the ton. Plus, you can easily develop in this direction, because the Hilshers have a lot of money.

• He really likes to help you decorate cupcakes with different colorful creams and sprinkles. He loves rainbow sprinkles and edible glitter for cupcakes, that's his love.

• If your cake accidentally burns, Brahms will eat it with a smile on his face, as if it should be that way. The next day, a new oven will be delivered.

• Jealous when you share your baked goods with someone else. That same evening, he will hug you tightly and whine, "Honey, please! Make my favorite cake again!!! I was a good boy."

• Always insists that you cook for his doll as well. So what? No, of course he didn't eat that cupcake last night, it was the doll!

Sinclair brothers

• There wasn't a lot of sweets in their childhood because their father was a doctor, so they're excited to fill their bellies.

• Bo takes you to the store on weekends to buy all the ingredients you need. While you're in the grocery section, he's already choosing new molds in the shape of cat faces or cute fish.

• Vincent loves delicate desserts like tiramisu, and he also enjoys baked goods with blueberries, raspberries, and mint. Lester loves anything with lots of cream and strawberries. He's a fan of anything very, very sweet, which makes your teeth ache. Bo prefers sweets with nuts and caramel. Or anything related to coffee.

• They love birthday cakes the most. Every time, you have to light the candles three times in a row, regardless of whose birthday it is. Consider it an unfulfilled childhood dream.

• Vincent helps you the most with this. He has a talent for handling dough and decorating cakes. You're a great team.

Art the clown

• Well... He's good at washing dishes. After your culinary masterpieces, he always washes them without any questions. With his hands, not in the dishwasher.

• He loves making face cakes. Preferably for you, he doesn't want to smear his mushroom. Or you know, on TikTok, there was a time when everyone was making cakes that needed to be stabbed with a knife and artificial blood would come out of the sweet syrup? This is his dream cake.

• Art loves your desserts and giggles like a child when he eats them. Well, at least he's giggling in a silent way and happily swinging his legs.

• One day, he tried to follow your favorite recipe and make it for you as a surprise. Well, the result was edible. But it looked like it was made from his previous victim.

• Anyone who underestimates your baking will be part of his "show." Their death will be slow and painful, and then he will eat your cake with a satisfied smile as the victim struggles to breathe.

[calmcoldevening]

I just knoooow Brahms Heelshire has a mommy/daddy kink. Even better if the reader is into it!

Daddy kink

• Brahms acts like a moody and spoiled boy to get his daddy's attention. When he's alone with his daddy, he becomes more obedient and tries to earn his daddy's affection by behaving well.

• Sometimes, he intentionally acts like a nasty brat to get his daddy's attention and get punished. Once in bed, he will whine like a needy puppy, with his ass up and his face buried in the pillow. He will beg for forgiveness in a soft, whining voice, but he doesn't really want you to stop.

• He loves it when you "chastise" him with your stern, cold gaze, especially if it happens in public. Brahms tries his best to hide his excitement and just stares at the floor.

• If you ignore him for too long and spend time with other people, he will either throw something on the floor or demonstratively climb onto your lap, burying his nose in your neck.

• He loves your lap, whether at home or in public. He likes to feel like a little boy.

• After a particularly difficult day, he'll snuggle up to your chest and ask you to stroke his back or hair.

Mommy kink

• With his mommy, Brahms is more obedient and shy. He always tries to be close to her and loves to hold onto her skirt, simply because it makes him feel comfortable.

• Brahms loves your perfume and your scent in general, so whenever he gets the chance, he nuzzles his nose into your neck or hair to get a better feel of that pleasant smell.

• He can't stand it when you wear revealing clothes somewhere. He asks you to leave by grabbing your hand and pouting, "Dress like this only for me."

• He loves your body and tries to show it in every way possible. Brahms covers your skin with kisses, hickeys, gives you a gentle massage with scented oil, and spends a lot of time on your pussy. You are a goddess to him, and he wants to convey this to you so that you no longer have any insecurities.

• He has a specific kink for your breasts. It doesn't matter if you have a small one or a big one, he'll sit on your lap and "suck on your milk". He just likes the feeling.

• He loves calling you "mommy" in front of people and watching their reactions. To complete the effect, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face in your hair, enjoying the moment as if you were alone.

-----

There're just headcanons. Let me know if you want a oneshot with mommy and daddy luv!

[calmcoldevening]

Hiiiiii!! I love your writing, I've literally just been reading your stuff non stop for about an hour! How about a one shot with Lester x female reader where they decide to camp out in the forest one night and things get somewhat steamy 😏? Would LOVE if reader was the more dominant one too!😉

The forest was dark and dense, filled with the chaotic noise of birds and the occasional rustling of trees. The night was dark, with not a single star in the sky, but that didn't bother you at all. Lester and you decided to have an impromptu camping trip with a bonfire, roasted marshmallows, and sausages. Away from the noise of Ambrose, away from his curious brothers, and away from prying eyes.

The fire crackled, casting warm shadows on his pale face. Lester sat next to you, staring blankly into the fire, his mind preoccupied.

"...are you cold?" He asked with a touch of concern in his voice.

You smiled, feeling the growing tension between you, "A little. Why don't you sit closer?"

He chuckled briefly, but didn't resist. He moved closer, his thigh brushing against yours. The fire crackled playfully, and the tension between you could be cut with a knife.

Lester flinched at the sudden touch, his fingers clenching around the edge of his jacket. You could feel his breath quickening, but he tried to conceal it. The light from the fire played beautifully on his cheekbones, accentuating the uneven movement of his jaw.

"Are you... sure you're not cold?" He asked again, this time a little more quietly, raising his eyes to meet yours, filled with excitement and something else, something darker, more animalistic. It was as if he was trying to distract himself from the growing heat between you.

You gave a predatory grin, but didn't respond. Instead, you placed your palm on his knee, slowly moving it higher. "Lester..."

For a moment, his breath caught at the way you purred his name, making his heart race in its cage of bones.

"And if I'm cold... what will you do?" You whispered in his ear, biting the lobe. Your agile hands wrapped gently around his neck and you quickly climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his sharp shoulders, "If I'm cold, will you keep me warm?"

Lester flinched at your sharp bite, and as you climbed into his lap, his hands almost instinctively wrapped around your waist, possessively squeezing.

"I- Yes. I mean.. wait. I don't think this is a good idea. Here.." he spoke quietly, as if he couldn't believe his own words. But his hands slid down your lower back, pressing you against his thighs.

You giggled and kissed his forehead, "Really? I think you want this even more than I do." You spoke confidently and affectionately, and one of your hands slid down his chest, tracing his torso and lingering on the edge of his shirt, pulling it up, "We're in the woods. We're alone. "No one's gonna bother us, baby."

Lester exhaled nervously at your affectionate treatment, his breath becoming ragged as his hands clenched on your hips. You knew it was a 'yes'. Without hesitation, you pulled him closer by his chin, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. He let out an incoherent mewl, slowly returning the affection, his eyes closing in satisfaction.

Your nimble hands quickly removed his jacket, dropping it onto the grass, and you began to tug off his t-shirt. Lester moaned softly into your mouth, but he didn't resist. His skin was covered in goosebumps under your fingertips. Within moments, he was lying naked to the waist down on the grass, breathing heavily, while you straddled his hips, teasingly rubbing your ass against his hardening erection.

Your nails slid over his collarbones, over his fragile shoulders, over the muscles that tensed under your touch. His eyes watched you intently. With reverence. With hunger.

"Do you want me, baby?"

Lester swallowed hard, his fingers digging into your hips as if he were afraid you would disappear if he let go. His lips, still wet from the kiss, parted in a silent question, but you didn't let him speak. Instead, you leaned in again, biting his lower lip, causing him to inhale sharply.

"You're trembling so beautifully..." you whispered, sliding your hand down his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

He closed his eyes as your fingers deliberately trailed along the edge of his pants, catching on the button.

"Are you sure about this?What should we-"

"Ah, Lester..." you interrupted, kissing his neck just below his jaw, making him swallow a moan. "You don't want me to stop, do you?"

His response was a sudden upward thrust of his hips, clearly involuntary but eloquent. You laughed, feeling his body betray him as he tried to hide behind his uncertain words.

"See..." your fingers finally unbuttoned his pants, slipped under the fabric, and he inhaled sharply when you touched him. "You said there was no one here. Just you... and me."

Lester threw his head back, the grass rustling beneath him as he dug his fingers into the ground helplessly. His breath was coming in short bursts, his lips licking at each other in a futile attempt to maintain some semblance of control.

"You... you're doing this on purpose..." he rasped, but his hips were already moving against your palm.

You leaned in close to his ear, feeling his body shudder at your hot breath.

"Maybe. Do you like it?"

He didn't respond. Instead, his hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, flipping you onto your back with such force that you gasped. For a moment, there was a flash of panic in his eyes—as if he was afraid of his own determination—but then you saw the same fire that had been hidden behind his mask of uncertainty.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Oh? Little boy wants to play? Come on." You purred, pressing your hips against his.

Lester didn't need to be told twice, he quickly but carefully pulled off both of your clothes, putting them somewhere to the side. His eyes looked at the night with awe, as if there was a real deity in front of him. Although, perhaps, it was. His hand slid from your shoulder to your collarbone, and then into your chest, gently squeezing a lump of warm flesh. "You.. so soft." You giggled as you watched him. He was a little taken aback, nervously licking his lip, "I am.. not doing it badly? Does it hurt?"

"You silly boy. It hurts me that you're not doing what we both want."

He chuckled and gave you a quick peck on the corner of your lips. His fingers found your wet hole, pushing two fingers inside at once. A wet sigh escaped your lips.

Lester remembered how you talked about the importance of preparation, so he was going to work hard on you so that you wouldn't feel pain.

Two fingers, three, and then his cock was inside you. It wasn't long, but it was thick enough to pleasure you in your favorite places. You closed your eyes in pleasure, biting your lip and burying your face in his neck. His name escaped your lips like a desperate prayer, making his heart race. He pulled you closer, speeding up his pace slightly.

You were so brave and strong, and yet in his arms you were so fragile and defenseless, and he loved it.

He gently touched your clit, helping you to orgasm, and you came in his hands with a soft whimper. He followed you, burying himself deep inside you and clutching your soft hair.

The forest was filled with your heavy breathing, the fire gently burning away, while Lester carefully covered both of you with a small blanket that had been in your bag. Silence and peace. You leaned against your boyfriend's chest, feeling sleep approaching. Lester gently wrapped his arms around your back, rubbing your lower back.

His treasure.

[calmcoldevening]

Michael Myers with a childhood friend who was always kind and who visited him in the sanatorium

• You were always kind, and Michael didn't know why. Back in elementary school, you were the first to talk to him and share candy during recess. It made him smile.

• Your friendship developed quickly. Although Michael wasn't the most sociable, he was open and curious enough as a child to make a friend. His first and only true friend.

• He often visited your house, and you visited his. You quickly became friends with his mother and little sister. Although Judith just snorted at you and rolled her eyes because you were "small."

• When Michael was taken to a psychiatric hospital, you were confused. How could Michael have done something bad? After all, you knew him from a very good side, even though Michael shared his dark thoughts and even photos with you, but you just thought it was his love for horror movies.

• One day, you were called to the principal's office, where a strange man with a slight beard was sitting. Dr. Loomis. He said that he was Michael's doctor, and that as Myers' best friend, you could help with his recovery. In reality, the doctor needed a push for his lab rat, but your childish brain was too excited to see your beloved friend again.

• This place was white and empty, and you didn't like it. Michael had lost weight and had dark circles under his eyes, but he was smiling. He was actually smiling when you entered the dining room. You brought him some soft pencils and some drawing papers. You knew that your friend was creative enough for this.

• You visited him three times a week: Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. Most of the time, Michael just sat there drawing, and you told him stories from your life. You brought him some photos of Boo. Michael enjoyed your voice. He also enjoyed the photo of the three of you, him, you, and Boo. The little girl looked happy.

• You became his only light in the constant darkness, and Loomis enjoyed your interactions, although he was disappointed that Michael still didn't speak directly to him.

• You brought Michael various treats and sweets. He especially enjoyed chocolate. And you were looking forward to going to see the new horror movie Michael had been looking forward to when he got out.

• You even brought Michael your childhood toy one day, saying, "Hug it and pretend it's me until I get back!"

• You didn't get back. Loomis realized that your interactions weren't having any effect. And after Mrs. Myers' suicide, he didn't see the point in you anymore. The doctor told you that Michael needed to be alone for the next couple of weeks due to a new special treatment. You agreed. But the weeks turned into months. You tried to call the number Loomis gave you, but it didn't exist.

----

• Michael was looking forward to your next visit, and he had already drawn a new picture that he wanted to show you, and he had made a mask for your toy so that you could have matching masks.

• But you didn't come. And you didn't come the next time. And Loomis had a too-friendly smile on his face. It wasn't difficult for Michael to put the pieces together. At least he hoped that the man hadn't told you anything crazy about Michael's condition.

• But the breakup was more brutal than the doctor had thought. Michael had completely withdrawn into himself, becoming a shadow of his former self. He spent his days making masks, and the rest of the time he slept in the embrace of a toy. Sometimes he would whisper your name in his sleep.

• Over the years, the pain had dulled, but the desire to find you remained. He thought. He waited. And his thumb gently stroked the photograph of his two most cherished people. You and Boo. He would return. He'll be back and he'll hug you. And he'll show you your toy, because he's kept it. For himself. For you.

[calmcoldevening]

(Rz mikey Anon here) Yay! In that case, please can I get hcs with him x autistic reader who likes crafts and listening to metal??

Michael Myers x autistic!reader who likes crafts and listening to metal

• Michael notices your little habits and rituals, like the way you arrange your knitting supplies on the table, and he doesn't know why, but he adheres to it. From time to time, he adjusts the items to ensure they're evenly placed. It's become a habit.

• He brings you various small items for your hobby, either from the store or from the victims. Michael simply wants to make you a little happier.

• If you enjoy hard and aggressive music, Michael doesn't mind. He also liked a lot of different, unusual music as a teenager, so he understands what it means to have preferences that your family doesn't necessarily approve of. Of course, Michael is a pretty chill and quiet guy in general, but he won't mind listening to your music with you.

• When you get lost in the moment with your favorite songs and start humming the lyrics out loud or drumming your fingers on some surface, Michael just stops and watches you like a hawk.

• You're doing something with your hands, and Michael is sitting next to you, making a mask just for you. He loves these quiet moments of mutual acceptance.

• Michael already has a separate "trophy" shelf where he carefully displays all the handmade gifts you've given him. On dark nights, he enjoys admiring this shelf, which makes him feel loved.

• If you have any sensory sensitivities, such as a dislike of sudden movements or loud noises (except for your music), Michael will quickly adapt to them. He moves around the house as quietly as a ghost, carefully closing doors and walking on floorboards that he knows don't creak.

• When you're experiencing sensory overload, he will simply stand in the doorway of your room, observing you in case you need comfort or assistance.

• If you're quite comfortable with touch, he might take you on his lap during a sensory overload, gently embrace you, and rock you like a baby until you feel better. Don't worry, he has experience with children, so he's extremely gentle.

• Many people don't understand you, but Michael doesn't need to. He accepts you for who you are, loves you, and genuinely cares for you, just in his own way.

----

Hope you like it! Let me know if you want something else or more of this stuff >^<

[calmcoldevening]

It's-a-me, Stuilly Anon! I've got an idea: what would happen when Billy's icy heart melts just a little bit around Stu? When he gives in to his affection?

Cold.

Billy always thought that his heart was made of ice, chained in heavy chains from people's eyes. All his life, he build barricades, he built walls around this passionate piece of flesh, just to avoid getting hurt again. It was much easier to refuse a person's feelings, a little attention, to look at them with a cold gaze, just to avoid the pain of trusting them again. Trust is for weak and foolish people. Billy is not like that. Billy is smart, closed, calculating, and brilliant. Anything but loving.

But Stu...

Stu was different.

Stu always came crashing into his life like a hurricane, a tornado on the calm surface of a blue sea. Fun, chaotic. In his rainbow life, there was no room for boredom or sadness. But there was a place for Billy. Stu always knew how to smile, how to touch, to bring the long-awaited spring to the heart of eternal winter.

And Billy didn't know when it all started. He didn't know why he was letting him stay, but something inside Billy demanded that this desperate puppy stay by his side. This puppy with its floppy ears and ever-wagging tail. Even though Billy knows he prefers cats.

Their friendship seemed so natural, Billy doesn't know how it started. It was just one day in elementary school when a boy with hair as messy as a crow's nest approached him and said with a smile missing a few front teeth, "You're my friend now!"

And Billy didn't say no. For some reason, when it came to Stu, the word "no" just evaporated. Even though Stu was always cheerful, Billy didn't want that joyful face to be filled with pain and sadness one day, so he agreed. He always agreed. Because he wanted to make Billy a little happier. More alive.

"Biiiiiiilly," Stu drawled his name like chewing gum in a hurtful tone, wrapping his arms around his friend in a circle, "Come on, don't be a sorehead! We had fun, didn't we?"

Billy stood against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the ground. At Stu's playful tone, he frowned, raising a piercing gaze at the guy.

"That's what you call fun? We almost killed that guy," Billy replied calmly, digging his fingers into the skin of his own arm in an attempt to contain his emotions.

Stu chuckled, "But we didn't kill him! And he deserved it, the stupid bastard. He'll know better than to mess with your girlfriend. You're really like a real... prince, huh? Sid should jump into your arms and let you fuck her!"

Billy grimaced at his friend's words.

They were standing in Stu's garage. The air smelled of gasoline and old tires, and there were empty beer cans on the floor. A quiet punk song was playing on a speaker in the corner.

"Biiiilly... Billy, I'm sorry," Stu's voice sounded really guilty this time. Billy didn't react.

"...you're insufferable."

Stu grinned like a satisfied cat. "I know~ But you don't seem against that."

"Unfortunately."

Billy wanted to maintain his calm and indifferent demeanor, but... the smile. Stu's damn smile drove him crazy, leaving his aching heart in turmoil.

Stu chuckled at Billy's playful response and grabbed his hand. He stepped closer to his friend, pressing him against the wall. Billy frowned, his heart beating faster than usual.

"Let go."

"Nope~"

"Stu."

"Billy~ You don't want me to let go." Stu purred with his trademark devilish smile. He leaned in closer and bit down on Billy's lower lip, drawing a short moan from him.

And Stu was right.

He didn't want to.

Not now, not ever.

And with a pounding heart, the ice on the sea broke, bringing with it the long-awaited spring.

[calmcoldevening]

Is it possible for you to write about a fem Y/n with Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, & Hannibal Lecter where Y/n is eating paltbröd that she made out of a bucket of blood she was supposed to get rid off. She dosen’t even explain to them when they question why the bread is in that color. She let's them figure it out, it dosen’t even taste like blood either. It's surprisingly sweet because of the honey she put in.

Paltbröd

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba genuinely thinks that it's just some kind of new, cute bread that's been dyed with some kind of berry or vegetable. Or did you buy some new flour? He'll eat anything off your hands.

• He likes it. The unusual taste of some strange ingredient combined with the sweet honey makes Bubba swallow it all without a second thought. He admires your cooking skills.

• When you finally tell him what the bread is made of, he's surprised. Bubba genuinely thought that you had gotten rid of the blood, as Drayton said. But you got rid of it in such an unusual way, Bubba is delighted!

• He smiles like a child and hugs you, trying to tell you in this way that he really liked your bread, no matter if it was made from blood, flour, or meat. Plus, he's a cannibal, so he really doesn't care.

• For the next week, he follows you around like a cute puppy, asking you to make this delicious bread again. He'll get you as much blood as you need, just please!

Thomas Hewitt

• He just sits there looking at the bread. He tries it. He likes it. After all, Thomas has always eaten whatever is given to him. This is the first bread he has had in a long time. He is grateful.

• At the evening meal together, it is Hoyt who guesses what the bread is made of. He is impressed by your skill. "God has sent us an angel so that we will no longer go hungry!"

• Hoyt is pleased, Luda, although she is impressed by your resourcefulness, looks at the bread with suspicion. Blood? Really? Thomas dutifully eats another piece that you give him with that smile. He really likes it.

• Eventually, Hoyt tells Thomas to collect the blood more carefully, because they now have a craftswoman in the house who can make blood bread. Thomas is proud of your talent and pats you on the head.

• Over time, you started making a lot of this bread and gave some to Thomas. Now this big boy finally has a full stomach, and he's overjoyed.

Hannibal Lecter

• Hannibal gracefully cuts a piece and puts it in his mouth. His taste buds are sensitive enough to detect the unusual ingredient. Blood, how cute. Hannibal smiles slyly as he takes another bite.

• As a cannibal, he truly appreciates your dish. He admires your ingenuity and culinary skills, although he is slightly annoyed that you did not follow his instructions and remove the blood. However, it is a minor inconvenience.

• "Bravo, my dear. Amazing resourcefulness and ability to use all available ingredients... Perhaps next time you could try a different honey? And I will personally make sure to find a more... presentable donor."

• Hannibal is interested in the recipe and all the details of the proportions of each ingredient. As a brilliant chef, he plans to join your bloody art in the future.

• Next time, you will be cooking in a rather intimate setting. Soft music in the background, red wine in the glasses, and his chest against your back as he helps you gently mix all the ingredients.

--------

One day I'm gonna taste it...

Ps: Hoyt and Hannibal are your fans now, luv!!

[calmcoldevening]

hola soy nueva seguidora, nosé si lo haz echo antes pero podías hacer una de Hannibal Lecter x una lectora que sea caníbal y le encante la comida de Lecter, plis si no es mucha molestia. 😊

Hannibal x cannibal!reader

Ps: I don't speak Spanish, so I didn't even try to translate it. I hope this won't be a problem for you!

• He loves to cook for you because you are the only one who truly appreciates his art.

• You often sit together at your special romantic dinner and discuss the taste and texture of the food, enjoying a good wine.

• Hannibal often takes you to various celebrations and events, where you can choose the next "main course" for your meal together.

• Hannibal enjoys cooking while you are present in the kitchen. He's marinating the meat, and you're leaning against the table, reading him something classic, like Dante Alighieri. He's smiling with inspiration. Your company adds a special touch to the dish.

• He hums as he savoring a tender piece of meat, "Mmm, dear. You've outdone yourself today, the sauce is savory and complex, perfectly complementing the juicy meat. Your cooking is just wonderful."

• If you don't like something in his dish or would like to add something, he won't be offended, but will gladly listen to your suggestion. You're not a sheep, you're an equal.

• When someone else compliments his dish, you can see his eyebrows twitch. Indeed, these unworthy people don't know what they're eating. He loves your genuine compliments about his cooking.

• After a good dinner, you often twirl around in a light, slow dance, enjoying each other's company.

• You say with a smile, "Hannibal, this is your best dish." He only responds with warmth in his voice, "Because it was prepared with thoughts of you."

• He often brings you breakfast in bed. It's something light like sandwiches with freshly squeezed juice or a cup of your favorite coffee. You giggle, "Do you want me to get used to your kitchen and never leave?" He grins wolfishly, "Hasn't that already happened, my dear?"

[calmcoldevening]

micheal x oblivious S/O pleasee

Michael Myers x oblivious!reader

• He's always watching you, and you don't even notice. Michael follows you like a silent shadow. But you seem completely indifferent to it. You attribute the slightest rustle to small animals, and the change in the shadow above you to a play of light. And if you see Michael in broad daylight, you wave at him with a smile on your face and think, "What a coincidence."

• Michael doesn't understand why you're not afraid of him, why you don't scream or run away. The news on TV was literally talking about him as a maniac, but you didn't seem to see it, only saying something about the tacky jumpsuit of this strange man in the news.

• You mistake his silence for shyness. Is that strange? Absolutely. Michael still doesn't understand how you can perceive his threatening presence as shyness and embarrassment.

• You act like you really don't understand who he is, and on every holiday you give him the strangest things possible, like steaming mugs for him and you or a T-shirt with the inscription "The best boyfriend in the world." Of course, he's wearing it under his jumpsuit now, but who wouldn't?

• You genuinely don't understand why all the bad people disappear after one meeting with you. That guy looked at you strangely, and today they found him dead in the trash? It's definitely a coincidence.

• Michael is very protective of you. To him, you're so cute and fragile that anything could hurt you. Especially that strange man in the store. The next day, you say, "That guy must have gone on vacation. How nice!"

• You're the only one who can touch his mask. Although you still don't understand why he wears it when he has such a handsome face.

• He tolerates your attempts to fix him and everything. He tolerates it... but he doesn't change.

[calmcoldevening]

Hi! I really like your headcanons and I would like to do a request. My favorite slasher is Bughuul, could you do Bughuul x reader cute headcanon? The scenario that I was imaging was like a rainy day and with cozy vibes. :3

Sure! I made it oneshot, but if you want more headcanons with him, let me know!

Raining evenings

It was night. The room was dark, the only source of light being a few beautifully arranged candles on the coffee table, each shaped like a red heart. The curtains gently swayed in the wind that was blowing through the streets, and raindrops gently tapped against the window.

You were sitting on the couch, your legs curled up under you, and you were completely wrapped in a warm, fluffy blanket. It was one of his quirky gifts, which he had probably stolen from one of the married couples. However, you didn't really care about that right now. The pleasant material smelled of soft pastries and cinnamon, adding to the comfort of your cocoon.

He entered the room slowly, deliberately, as if he were the master of the house. But he was certainly the master of your heart.

His long hair was now neatly tied back with a satin ribbon, allowing you to fully see his face. That gray-sand skin with black voids where his mouth and eyes should be, those eyebrows that were always furrowed, as if he was constantly thinking about something, that old but neat suit that was woven by time itself. He was a demon, a monster to humans, a higher being who kidnapped children. But to you, he was just Bughuul. Your Bughuul.

In his hands was your favorite mug, now filled to the brim with aromatic coffee, with small marshmallows floating in it like ice floes in the sea. You smiled and took the mug from his hands, taking a large gulp at a time. The hot liquid burned your throat pleasantly, and you closed your eyes in pleasure.

Better? His voice is quiet but sharp, like sudden thunderclaps. It comes from everywhere, but not from his mouth. It's a voice in your head.

You told your lover that you were cold. After all, it's the middle of autumn, and the lack of sun and constant rains are taking their toll. So he decided to take care of you in his slightly intimidating yet gentle way.

You smiled and nodded. It was better. Of course, his presence made you feel much better.

There wasn't an emotion on his face, but you could have sworn you saw a phantom smile on his "lips." It warmed your heart. No matter what anyone said, he really cared about you.

"Are you sure you want to stay? What about the kids?" You asked with a touch of concern. He sat down on the couch next to you, and you immediately moved closer, resting your head on his strong shoulder. A cold, pale hand found your thigh under that thick blanket and squeezed. Not vulgarly, just gently, soothingly.

They're still in my world. They've been bothering you too much lately, haven't they? It's better for them to think about their behavior before they drive you crazy.

You chuckled. No matter what these children were now, demons, ghosts, or lost souls, they were still children. Your children. And Bughuul knew perfectly well that you had a soft spot for these mischievous creatures. And they sought solace in your company as well.

You sighed and closed your eyes. The gentle sound of rain outside, the warmth of a blanket on your tired skin, the gentle crackling of candles, and the comforting warmth of your drink all lulled you into a state of relaxation. And his presence. Yes, his presence has always given you such a wonderful feeling of comfort and security, as if the rest of the world around you no longer existed. Just you and him.

Tired? He asked more gently, feeling your energy calm down, as it cuddles up to his own core like a trusting cat.

"A little bit. But it's better, with you here, with me."

Better with him. He likes the sound of that phrase. Are you really happy with him? The first person who wasn't afraid of his presence, the first person he wanted to spend his entire eternity with. It's something on a higher level, beyond the understanding of mortals, and yet it's close to the word love.

"You won't leave, will you?" Your voice is soft and sleepy, and his chest trembles with a silent chuckle. His hand gently takes the empty mug from your grasp and places it on the table. He then gently wraps his arms around your shoulders, stroking your hair.

I won't leave. Rest, my light.

And you fall asleep, lulled by his gentle voice. He just sits quietly next to you, taking pleasure in every wrinkle on your face, every small mole. And of course, later, he'll carry you to bed. But for now, he just wants to sit here.

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers when reader tells them she's pregnant

Slashers when reader tells them she's pregnant

Michael Myers

Michael just stands quietly in front of you, not moving. It's difficult to read his body language to understand what he's thinking. His white mask remains motionless. You nervously clench the test in your hands, waiting for at least some kind of reaction. Suddenly, he takes a step closer, placing his large hand on your still-flat stomach. He doesn't say anything, just keeps his hot hand on your belly, as if... thinking. His silence is a promise. Promise to protect. Promise to kill anyone who dares to disrupt your fragile happiness.

Bubba Sawyer

His eyes widen and his lips tremble. He mumbles something incoherent, his eyes darting around the room, his actions choppy, nervous, like a child caught in a mischief. Finally he looks at you, steps closer, and wraps his strong arms around you, lifting you into the air. He spins you around, his face buried in your chest, and makes happy noises. Family. You'll have a family. A real one. He's never been this happy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent stares at you with his eyes wide with shock. His hands tremble, the brush falling from his long fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud. He carefully reaches out to you, pulling you towards him. His hunched figure on the chair sighs nervously. Once close enough to you, he buries his masked face in your stomach. You hear a soft whimper escape his lips. Your hands find his hair, gently stroking it. He shudders under your touch. His quiet gratitude.

Bo Sinclair

You show him the test, and Bo frowns.

"..is this some kind of joke?"

you snort, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's your inability to use condoms, you idiot." But there's no poison in your words, just uncertainty, waiting for the inevitable.

There's a swarm of thoughts in his head. How is that? A child? His child? He doesn't know how to be a father. Won't he screw up? Won't his kid hate him? He won't be like his mother, will he?

Bo takes a step closer and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling his face into the top of your head.

"..I just hope it's a girl. Our princess."

Mark Hoffman

He was cleaning his gun when you entered the kitchen and handed him the pregnancy test. He frowned, setting the gun aside. Mark stared at the two lines for a few seconds before looking up at you. Uncertainty.

"Are you sure?"

Are you sure I'm the right one?

You just nod. He sighs. Mark steps closer and wraps you in a warm embrace, kissing your temple. His kiss is rough, but it carries an unspoken devotion. "Well, at least now we have someone to survive for."

Bughuul

He stares at you in silence, his blank face showing nothing. He never ceases to be amazed by you. Pregnant? With a demon? You truly are special.

He can already hear his children whispering around the corner, their black button eyes burning into you.

Bughuul nods curtly, his cold hand covering yours, which holds the test.

They will be... special.

You already know that he will not allow anyone to come near this child. Your baby.

Ghostface

Stu looks at the test in your hand in disbelief, and then snatches it and starts screaming, jumping around the room.

"FUCK! WE'RE GOING TO BE DADS!! THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!"

Billy sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He walks over to you and gently touches your stomach with his palm, wrapping his free arm around your waist.

"Are you sure you want to keep this? We're not the best candidates, y'know."

You nod, and he sighs in disbelief. "Well... okay."

"I HOPE IT'S A GIRL! WE CAN CHOOSE HER DRESSES AAAAAA"

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers x reader who’s a witch

Slashers x reader who’s a witch

Michael Myers

• One way or another, Michael is connected to all this paranormal stuff and Halloween, so he likes your magic. He watches with childlike interest as you brew potions or whisper spells.

• Michael is quite sensitive to energy, so he likes your aura when you use your magical abilities.

• He remembers which store you go to get the ingredients you need, so he occasionally steals various items from there as gifts for you. It's just a sweet gesture.

• He feels the need to be present at every one of your rituals, especially during the full moon, at which time he becomes especially animated.

• Michael likes the room where you do your witchy things. He especially likes your altar and offerings. All that meat, blood, black candles, and aromatic herbs. He's attracted to it.

Vincent Sinclair

• Vincent is an intellectual and creative person who often looks at books about the occult and demonology, so your appearance in his life feels like a gift from God.

• If you need to make a sacrifice or just practice your potions and spells on a living soul, he will gladly provide you with a couple of victims who have not yet been covered in wax.

• He is captivated by the grace of your movements as you cut ingredients and recite spells, considering it a true art form.

• He helps you create new grimoires. He will find all the necessary items, such as paper, leather for the cover, precious stones, leaves, and bones, if necessary. Additionally, he is an artist and can help you design it beautifully.

Tiffany Valentine

• She's crazy about you. Your aesthetic, your way of dressing, all those beautiful colors, pentacles, and esoteric stuff, it's driving her crazy.

• You often have these "parties" with her, where you do tarot readings by candlelight and drink red wine from her favorite goblets with crow's feet as the stem.

• The two of you have a wonderful black cat named Darkness. What's cute is that this little guy has a bit of a white face, and his shape resembles a skull. Isn't that cute?

• She constantly buys you ingredients and various paraphernalia and you decorate the house or her trailer together.

• She gives you jewelry made of beads, precious stones, bones, and feathers with the words "To my favorite witch for good luck!"

Bughuul

• He is crazy about the energy that comes from you, it is so strong that it supports you and feeds his core. Therefore, he considers you almost equal to himself.

• When he takes another child, he may not kill all members of their family. He will leave a few of them alive and give them to you as a gift to his beloved witch.

• If you are seriously interested in various occult things, particularly demonology, he will be happy to tell you about his kind. He enjoys sharing his knowledge, especially with such excellent listeners.

• In his presence, your magic becomes more powerful, but you can feel his ancient essence trying to penetrate your consciousness. It's your own version of a cat-and-mouse game, a struggle for dominance.

• Sometimes, when you wake up, you may find some ancient and powerful books on the kitchen table. A gift from his beloved.

[calmcoldevening]

My mom passed away yesterday and i could use a comfort fic with a fem reader and poly Billy and stu. Maybe reassurance being involved that it'll get better and that she knows how much the reader loved her? Just a lot of fluff and comfort. But if this subject matter makes you uncomfortable you don't have to write it!

I'm so sorry this happened, sweetheart. I hope you're feeling better now. Just remember to eat and drink, and take care of yourself. Thank you for asking, and you're very strong. May your mother rest in peace 🤍🕊️

You sit, nervously fiddling with your fingers on the edge of the blanket, the soft fabric now seems extremely unpleasant, scratching the skin along with a fluttering heart. The room is silent. Only the hands of the clock with a quiet knock measure a second, minutes, as if mocking: mom is no more.

The door opens quietly and Stu enters the room first. Slowly, quietly, as if afraid to scare you. On his face there is no familiar smile, only a quiet softness in the eyes, filled with love and understanding.

"Hey, pretty," he says in a soft voice, trying to cheer you up. Stu carefully sits on the bed next to you, but not too close, giving you space. He doesn't want to pressure you. But you lean towards him, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. His body is warm, and his heart beats in time with yours, providing comfort and reassurance. Stu kisses the top of your head briefly, gently stroking your back.

"It's gonna be okay," he says softly, his voice devoid of his usual cheerfulness or playfulness, filled instead with understanding and endless compassion.

A moment later, the mattress on the other side of you sinks. Billy. He's been standing in the doorway, watching the two of you. Now he's here. His hand rests on your back, large and heavy. Grounding.

"She knew," he says simply, without any emotion, "She knew how much you loved her."

You clench your fists in your lap, your lips trembling with unshed tears.

"But I could have..."

"No," Billy interrupts, "You did everything you could. And she knew how much you loved her. You did enough. She was very proud of you, her dear child."

Billy's words feel like a sharp knife in a fresh wound. Stu smiles slightly and kisses your temple.

"It's going to be okay. We're here. We're not going anywhere. We promised your mom we'd protect you, didn't we?"

This time, his voice is more cheerful and confident, giving you a glimmer of hope.

And you can't hold it in any longer. A soft sob escapes your lips, and within moments, you're drowning in your own tears. Saltwater tracks stream down your flushed cheeks, and your shoulders shake. But the boys don't pull away or laugh; instead, they hold you tighter, showing that they're here, they love you, and they're willing to share your pain.

Stu's fingers glide through your hair, gently stroking your scalp.

"Cry," he whispers into your temple, "Let it all out. It will make you feel better."

Billy gazes at you with a blank expression, but his heart is a hurricane. He leans closer and rests his forehead against yours.

"She's proud of you, do you hear me?" His voice is even, sobering, "She's very proud of you. For being who you are. Strong, brave, courageous. But you don't have to be strong right now. Let us take care of you."

They both embrace you, holding your trembling body between them like a shield, protecting you from the rest of the world.

They won't leave you.

Never.

------

[calmcoldevening]

I love your writing, it’s sooo good and I’m so happy you don’t write the slashers badly.

Love you mwah

Don’t go bald

OMG

Thank you so much luv!!! >^<

I'm glad you like my stuff, really. That's makes me want to write mor-

[calmcoldevening]

How about... the first time reader told them "I love you"? Your usual lineup plus Billy Lenz, please!

I love you

Michael Myers

The two of you are standing in the darkness of your home. You just got up to get some water, and he happened to be there. You saw it as an opportunity, a sign from above.

A quiet "I love you" escapes your lips, which are dry from excitement.

There's silence in response. But it's not as deafening as before. It's more gentle. You can see his shoulders tense and relax for a moment. You can feel his gaze скользя over your figure.

He raises his hand and touches your hair, stroking it lightly. He remains silent, and you smile. You know that this is his way of saying, "I do too. You are mine."

Jason Voorhees

It's night. The blue surface of the lake reflects in his lifeless ash-white mask with small scratches.

You speak with a slight gentle smile, slowly, as if you're afraid of spoiling the moment.

"I love you."

Jackson tilts his head to the side, as if he didn't hear. Or didn't understand.

You repeat the cherished words and you swear you saw his mask shine in the moonlight.

He doesn't respond. But a pair of strong arms pulls you into a broad chest, a face with a mask nuzzles into your shoulder. You understand this is mutual.

Bubba Sawyer

He's sitting in front of you, fidgeting with his fingers. He's nervous. You said you wanted to talk to him, but he's probably already thinking he's done something wrong.

You smile and gently take his large, rough hand in yours, stroking his knuckles. He relaxes a bit, but his innocent childish eyes still dart around the room, looking for any mistake.

"Bubba, I love you."

His eyes widen, and his lips part. He can't believe his ears. Within a moment, he's waving his arms and mumbling incoherently, searching your eyes for signs of deception. But you're smiling. Not with mockery, but with love.

He's crying. Crying like a little child experiencing their mother's warmth for the first time after a separation. He embraces you with such innocence yet strength that you realize you've never been happier than in that moment.

Thomas Hewitt

"I love you."

This short, fragile phrase makes the air in the room shimmer. He stops sharpening the knife and looks at you with eyes full of disbelief. Pain. Betrayal.

He's afraid to trust. And he wants to hear that it's true.

He leaves the knife on the table and approaches you. Slowly, allowing you to change your mind, to run away, to hide.

His movements are precise, but you can see a slight tremor in his fingers. He touches your delicate cheek with his palm, his thumb circles your lower lip so gently and so tremulously that you do not believe that you are facing a murderer.

You smile a little and kiss his thumb. He flinches. You're repeating yourself. "I love you. More than anything in the world."

His breathing stops.

This is the first time he feels like a human being.

Billy Lenz

He flinches.

Such a short phrase, but so sincere, so real, so full of feelings.

"N-no.. you can't."

His voice trembles and you see him hugging his elbows. Protecting himself from the outside world, from you, from his own feelings.

But you don't back down. You repeat yourself, more gently, but with just as much insistence.

A sob escapes from his chest, as if he was trying to hold back his tears until the very end.

He takes a step forward. You see his soft curls, his neat figure, and those bright, gem-like eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and incredible despair.

He approaches you, grabs the edge of your shirt, hesitantly, as if he doesn't know if he has the right to do so, but with confidence. He grabs you like a drowning man who sees his last hope for salvation, for a normal life. For acceptance and love.

"Just d-don't change your m-mind... d-don't leave... p-please."

Bughuul

"I love you."

He doesn't respond. He just stays silent. But in that blank face, you see the eternity and the vastness of the universe.

He steps closer, and the small wrinkles and glints play on his face like splashes on a crystal-clear lake.

He moves slowly, like a graceful cat. His hand wraps around your neck, but he doesn't squeeze it; he guides you. You take a step closer. His hand slides from your neck to your face, caressing your cheek with his surprisingly gentle fingers. Neat nails gently prickle your scalp.

His voice is quiet, soft, sounding like the most beautiful music in your head.

"In that case, you have all eternity to prove it to me over and over again."

[calmcoldevening]

Hey, I really like your writing and everything. Seriously, I'm glad to find someone who writes about slashers (especially about Bubba and Jason tbh) at a time when this genre is kind of "outdated" (I don't know if it really is outdated or not, but I hardly see people talking about it besides Terrifier which I honestly don't like very much.)

Anyway, could you do a slasher x ghost reader? The kind of ghost that... leaves notes scattered around the house, moves/tilts furniture out of place as a way of communicating? And that only slashers can see and touch them too

Yeah, I don't hear about this fandom much too. But I guess it'll become alive with new Saw or TCM movie (but honestly I prefer old movies). So we just have to wait!

Slashers x ghost! reader

Bubba Sawyer

• He finds solace in your ghostly presence, and you make him feel less lonely and more loved. You provide him with a sense of comfort. After a particularly difficult day, he finds himself in your cool embrace.

• You often leave cute notes with a sloppy, almost childlike handwriting, such as "You're not alone," "I'm here," and so on. He loves it. Although he can't read, your handwriting calms him down. Your handwriting and the use of bright pencils improve his mood.

• You often move furniture around the house, especially in the kitchen. Drayton often gets angry about this, and on a couple of occasions, he even threatened to call a priest. However, Bubba just stood by and laughed quietly into his hand. He saw the funny expression on your face as you struggled to move the stove. It was so amusing!

• Sometimes, you help out during the "hunt." You usually experience things right in front of the victims and barricade all the exits. It drives them to the brink of hysteria, but Bubba is sincerely grateful to you!

• When Bubba is restless, he always tries to stay close to you. Your cool presence calms him down. He loves to fall asleep with your gentle strokes.

Jason Voorhees

• He knows you're there. Jason can feel your presence even when you're not materializing. You're his loyal shadow, a helper who lurks in the darkness, ready to take on anyone who dares to harm your friend.

• It's usually you who patrols the camp. It's because your transparent form makes it easier and faster for you to pass through various objects. When you find new hikers, you simply guide Jason to their location using branches, old logs, and other items. He's eternally grateful for your assistance.

• Sometimes, when he's sitting by the lake at night, you draw random patterns on the water. He finds it cute. It's a way of entertaining him and "communicating" with him. Although Jason doesn't speak fluently, he appreciates your cute gestures.

• Jason is very quiet and attentive, so he notices every note you leave, every misplaced mug.

• If Jason is injured, you quickly bring him a first aid kit and help him treat his wounds. At such moments, he is overjoyed that he is the only one who can see and touch you.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo likes a little chaos here and there, it helps him to distract himself from the mess of thoughts in his head. And you help him with that. You move things against his will, leave them out of place, and give him a grave chill with your transparent presence. But he likes it, really.

• In the sunny heat, your company is indispensable. He likes to sit with you on his lap, so that your ghostly aura works on him like a real air conditioner. Sometimes he even lets you hold his beer bottle to keep it cool.

• In rare moments of silence, he'll just flip through a book or magazine and read aloud, and you'll turn the pages for him. It's cute.

• On Fools' Day, he was awakened by a persistent, cold push in his side. When he opened his eyes, there was a blood-written message on the wall opposite, saying, "Good morning, psychopath!" And a cold cup of coffee on the nightstand. Good morning to you, too, dear.

• You've already established a symbiotic relationship, an invisible connection. He chases after his victim, and you knock over a sofa in front of the poor thing. He pours coffee, you add a couple of spoonfuls of sugar, and he goes to the bathroom, while you patiently wait by the door with your arms crossed in annoyance. This devil will intentionally stay in the bathroom for as long as possible to irritate you. Oops.