#black friday fanfiction

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Thanksgiving reruns 2023--Day 5: Black Friday (3/3)

It is crazy to me that it’s already time for this, but the holidays have officially arrived!  I would like to wish all my followers who celebrate it a very happy Thanksgiving.  As a thank you to you (as well as my followers who DON’T celebrate), I present you with 3 Thanksgiving related stories I’ve written in the past.  Enjoy!

Title: Black Friday—Chapter 3 of 3

Rating: G

Words: 4002

Summary: CS as single parents AU. As the holidays approach, Emma’s son Henry and Killian’s daughter Alice ask for a specific storybook which will ONLY be available for purchase on Black Friday.

 Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Black Friday—Chapter 3

Emma got the book for the first week, and it warmed her heart to see how unbelievably happy it made Henry.

She'd been afraid he'd be disappointed about the arrangement she made with Killian, disappointed that he'd have to share the storybook that he'd wanted so desperately, but she needn't have worried.  Far from being upset at the arrangement, he'd been delighted, assuring her that he liked Alice Jones and her dad and he was glad if he had to share the book that it was with them.

If she hadn't known better, she'd think he was happier things had worked out this way than he'd have been if she'd gotten the book outright.

In fact, he was so alright with the arrangement that he badgered her about setting a date for the exchange...and he insisted they have the Joneses over for dinner.

Emma stirred the pasta sauce, feeling like she needed to do something with her hands.  Killian and Alice would be here any minute, and Emma felt the nerves bubbling up as strong as the water she was boiling for spaghetti.

She hated herself for her reaction--for the fact that she was so nervous about something as simple as having a couple of people over for dinner.

Not to mention the fact she'd taken special care with her hair and make up, and she'd spent far longer than she'd like to admit selecting a sweater and a pair of jeans for the evening.  If anyone asked, she'd gone to the extra effort simply because she was feeling festive.  It had nothing to do with the fact that she was having a handsome single dad over.

But if Emma was being honest with herself she knew the truth.  Killian Jones had invaded her thoughts more, much more than she would have liked, and every time he did, her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught, her stomach swooped. 

 It was all so cliche that it made her want to groan.  She was not cliche.  She was not a love-struck teenager.  She'd done the whole falling in love thing, and it had bitten her in the ass in a major way.  She knew how this went.  She'd have a few months of breathless excitement with her new infatuation, and then it would all hit the fan, and before she knew it the pain would be nearly unbearable.  No thanks.  The highs were not worth the lows that would follow.

Nope.  It didn't matter how hot Killian Jones was.  Didn't matter how charming.  Didn't matter how much his love for his daughter warmed her heart.  She would keep her wits about her and fortify the walls around her heart that had kept her safe all these years since Neal.

But when her door buzzed ten minutes later and she opened it to see a rakishly handsome Killian in a deep blue button up, short leather jacket and tight black jeans--smiling knowingly as he held out a bottle of wine to her–her heart lurched, and Emma acknowledged to herself the fact that she might be in real, serious trouble.

*****

Two hours later Emma was beginning to wonder if it was already too late for her.  Dinner had been surprisingly enjoyable.  The Swans and the Joneses alike had talked and laughed and generally enjoyed each other’s company.

After dinner, Henry had pulled Alice toward the living room to try out a new video game he was rather obsessed with. 

"Let me help with the dishes, Love" Killian offered, gathering up plates from the table and heading toward the sink.  "Least I can do after such an extraordinary meal."

Emma felt her cheeks warm at the compliment.  Generally speaking, whatever talents she had did not extend to the kitchen, but pasta was one thing she could make and make well.  In the secret recesses of her heart--in the place she barely even acknowledged to herself--she'd wanted to impress him, and his praise warmed her like a blazing fire on a cold winter's night.

Together they cleared the table and set to work washing and drying the dishes.  Working together like this, he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body.  His scent of leather and a hint of rum invaded her senses and it made her want.

Not just on a carnal level.  That she could handle.  That was something she could take care of.  A quick scratch of an itch and he'd be out of her system, but no it wasn't just the physical want.

She wanted all of it--the conversation, the companionship, the family.  She wanted this little domestic situation to be real, to be permanent.

As Emma closed the door behind the Joneses--after making arrangements for the next book exchange--and as Henry wandered off to bed  Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes.

She didn't want to want this.  Didn't want to want him.  The pain when this inevitably went south was going to be terrible.

She had a week until the next book exchange.  She needed to use that time fortifying her defenses against Killian Jones before she reached the point of no return.

*******

"Just a little more to the left," Alice said, taking a step back to look at the giant fir tree in their living room the following week.

Killian made the requested adjustment, and then got an enthusiastic "It's perfect" from his enraptured little starfish.

Seeing the holidays through the eyes of his daughter was magical.  She was such a sensitive soul.  She found delight in the beauty around her--and she had the unique ability to see beauty everywhere she looked.

Every holiday was a time of exceeding joy for Alice, but this particular Christmas season seemed to hold a special place in her heart, and Killian suspected he had Emma and Henry Swan to thank for that.

They'd only had the one meeting for dinner a week ago, but just the memory of it warmed Killian and made him smile.  Emma Swan was such a contradiction.  She'd been so prickly, so standoffish at their first meeting at the bookstore, but he'd seen a different side of her at home with her son.  She'd been relaxed, happy, smiling and laughing and delighting him with her witty banter.

She intrigued him more than any woman had since Milah.  She'd been beautiful at their first meeting, but at dinner--dressed in a red v-necked sweater that hugged her curves in all the right places--she'd nearly taken his breath away.

He sensed it would be quite a challenge to win her heart--should he choose to pursue it--but he rather liked a challenge.

At the end of dinner last week they'd decided to meet today for the next exchange, and Alice had started in right away to plan the next Swan-Jones get together.

"We need to decorate the tree together," She'd insisted on the way home from the Swans' abode.  "Maybe even get a start on some Christmas cookies."

Never one to deny his daughter anything if he could help it, he'd agreed to her plan.  Accordingly, they'd spent the ensuing week digging Christmas decorations from the attic, testing twinkle lights, and making multiple trips to the store for tree-trimming essentials.  

This morning was the last piece of the puzzle--the tree itself.  They'd made their way to Tiny's Christmas Tree Lot and been fortunate to find and cut down one of the handsomest trees Killian had ever seen.

Now all that remained was to wait until Emma and Henry arrived.

*****

Reaching up on her tiptoes, Emma placed the final ornament--a ceramic candy cane--on what was surely the only bare branch of the entire Christmas tree, and then she stepped back to survey her work.

"Pretty, isn't it?" She asked.

Killian looked over at her, taking in her cheeks flushed with exertion, her glossy blonde curls falling gently over her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling with happiness and felt his heart turn over.

"Beautiful," he breathed, never taking his eyes from her. "Absolutely stunning."

She looked over at him, hearing the adoration in his voice, and her breath caught as she noted the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at her.  Their eyes locked, and the color on her cheeks deepened.

He couldn't look away.  Wouldn't want to if he could.  She was so bloody gorgeous it almost hurt to look at her.  Slowly, inexorably he began to lean down, his eyes focusing on her lips.

For a split second she leaned toward him, and briefly, oh so briefly, he thought she'd allow him to sample those ruby-red lips, lips that he was sure would be far sweeter than the mulled cider he had waiting for them on the stove.

But then she seemed to come to her senses, shaking her head slightly and taking a step back.  She chuckled a bit nervously. "We did a good job on the tree, if I do say so myself."

For a moment the disappointment flooded him, but ever the gentleman, Killian took his own step back, muttering an agreement with her statement.  He knew enough about her history with Neal Cassidy to understand her fear, her hesitancy, but he was a patient man.  He could take all the time she needed to convince her that he was in this for the long haul and that she could trust him to cherish her heart should she one day give it to him.

"Aye, that we did," he replied genially.  "What say we adjourn to the kitchen to see what those two young scamps are up to?"

*********

Emma scooped up a fist-ful of snow as she hid behind a large oak tree.  Forming it into a ball, she stepped out and took aim.  

Bull's eye!  Her projectile made contact right between Killian's shoulder blades.  The man himself turned on her with a delighted grin that belied his growl of outrage.

"You'll pay dearly for that Swan!" He promised in a low, menacing voice that made her shiver in anticipation.  

She imagined him using that tone of voice under different circumstances.  What would it be like to hear him growl at her like that without their children present?  In a far more private setting?  With a lot few clothes between them?

She blinked and shook her head.  What was she doing fantasizing about Killian Jones?  Bad enough they had to see each other every week without her way-too-fertile imagination helpfully supplying images that made her want to fan herself, even in the midst of a polar vortex.

The next snowball hit her directly in the forehead, and Henry bent over amidst gales of laughter, pleased with the hit he'd scored for the boys' team.

Emma smiled at her son's antics as Alice pulled her back behind their oak tree home base.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll take care of Henry.  You go get my Papa again."

Get him, drag him someplace private, kiss the daylights out of him…

Her inner voice really wouldn’t shut up today!

"Sounds good, kid," Emma said.  "Let's go show them what Team Girl is made of!"

Three weeks after Thanksgiving, with Christmas fast approaching, and with six inches of new snow falling overnight, the Swans and Jones had decided to take their book exchange outdoors.  Together they'd made a little snow family and then decided to commence a snowball battle for the ages--Killian and Henry versus Emma and Alice.

Emma had no idea who was getting the best of the battle--each side had managed to log several good hits, but what she did know was that she had no idea when she'd had nearly this much fun.

Gathering up another huge handful of snow, Emma stepped from behind the tree...and right into the path of a snowball, lobbed with unerring accuracy, by a man who was grinning ear to ear, clearly quite pleased with both his stealth and his prowess on the frozen field of battle.

Gods, that grin did things to her.  Terrible, terrible, delicious things.

"Oh you did not just ambush me!" She said, gripping her snowball more tightly.

"Aye, that I did," his grin impossibly widened, "What are you going to do about it?"

The way he popped that final "t" made her stomach swoop.  Emma's breathing quickened. "You're about to find out!" Emma said, beginning to advance on him.

The force of Emma's next snowball knocked Killian to the ground, and the momentum carried Emma forward as well--until she landed directly on top of him.

His breath left him in a whoosh at the contact, and Emma meant to roll off of him, she really did…

But then her eyes met his.  Green eyes connecting with a sea of blue.  It was as though she was frozen in place, drawn inexorably to him like a moth to a flame (gods, another cliche!).  He didn't move, merely looked up at her with eyes filled with surprise and desire.

Almost against her own will, her gaze drifted down to settle on his lips.  It was too strong, too much.  She could no more stop what was about to happen than she could have stopped the snow from falling last night.

Lowering her head, she took his lips with a hunger she hadn't felt in years...maybe ever. He groaned and then surged up to meet her, lips parting, hand tangling in her hair.  It was too much, and not enough.  Far from quenching the fire, this kiss seemed to only be fanning the need into flame.  Her hands gripped his collar pulling him even nearer.

"Did you get her, Killian?"

The sound of Henry's voice was as effective as a bucket of ice water poured over her head, and Emma got to her feet so quickly her head swam (or was that from the mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss she'd just shared with Killian?).  Behind her, she heard the rustling sounds that told her Killian had done the same.

The children came into view just as their parents got to their feet.  Oh gods, how much of that did they see? Emma wondered as embarrassment covered her like a cloak.

"Aye, that I did," Killian said in a voice that was far from steady, "but then she returned the favor with interest.  I suspect we'll have to call this particular battle a draw."

"That's okay!" Alice said, bouncing on the soles of her feet in her excitement.  "It's getting cold anyway.  How 'bout we all go to Granny's for some hot cocoa?"

She'd kissed him.  Oh gods she'd more than kissed him.  She'd full on made out with him right there in the snow with such wild abandon she'd lost all sense, all awareness of where they were and with whom.  If Henry hadn't interrupted she legitimately had no idea what might have happened next.

Her embarrassment morphed into shame and disgust with herself.

And fear.  So much fear.  

Killian and Alice both were becoming so very important to her, she knew it would hurt like hell when they left her.

No, far better to nip this in the bud before she got in any deeper.

Emma took a step back.  "Sorry, kid," she said Taking in both Alice and her father as she continued backing away.  "We've got to get going."

"But mom!" Henry protested.

"Give Alice the book and let's go!" Emma answered in a tone that brooked no argument.

Turning, she nearly sprinted back to her bug, hoping Henry would follow quickly behind.

What had she done?

She'd ruined everything, and now all she could hope was that she'd make it to the privacy of her own room before she broke down.

********

"What happened?" Alice asked on the other end of the phone later that night.

"Don't know," Henry answered miserably. "Everything was going so good, and then…I just don't know!"

"Didn't you say they were kissing when you found them?" Alice asked. "Why would your mom get so upset?"

Henry shrugged before remembering she couldn’t see him over the phone. "I don't know.  Sometimes I don't understand adults at all."

"All I know is my dad has been sad ever since," Alice said. "Somehow, you've got to make sure your mom comes over on Christmas Eve like we planned!"

******

"Mom, come on! We've got to go take the book to Alice!" Henry said.  "If we don't hurry we'll be late for Christmas Eve dinner with them!"

Emma groaned.  She forgot she'd agreed when Killian asked them over for tonight.  But that was before. Before a certain kiss for the ages, one she simply couldn't stop thinking about while she was awake or dreaming about when she slept.

His lips were so warm, firm yet gentle. The wet smacking sounds their mouths made as they turned one way then the next trying to go deeper, get closer, meld into each other. The taste of coffee and mint on his tongue. The way her body burned at every point of contact.  The way she wanted more, so much more.  The way she wanted EVERYTHING.

And that right there was the crux of the problem.  She didn't just want his body.  She didn't just want a quick roll in the sheets.  She wanted a white picket fence life. She wanted their kids growing up together. She wanted him, and it hurt so much she didn't know how she would deal with it.

"I'll drop you off there, kid," Emma said, "but I think I'm gonna have to pass.  I'm just...I'm just not up to it, okay?"

"Is it 'cause I saw you kiss Mr. Jones?" Henry asked with a frown, "'cause you're afraid I'd be upset?  I'm not upset!  I promise!  I like Mr. Jones and Alice.  I'd be happy if you went on dates with him and stuff."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling the pain well up again, and then she sat on the couch patting the seat next to her, waiting until Henry sat.  "It's not because of you," she assured. "It just….wouldn't be a good idea.  These things just don't seem to work out for me."

He was silent for a minute and then he took her hand. "Mom, not every guy's gonna be like my dad.  Not every guy's gonna leave us.  I know Killian really likes you, and I know you can trust him."

Emma wanted to believe that, wanted it more than any Christmas gift she'd ever gotten, but the fear was so strong, like a living clawing at her. "I don't know if I can take that chance."

"Please, Mom?" Henry pleaded.  "It's Christmas!  You can't just drop me off! We need to spend Christmas together!  It's what families do!"

And really what could she say to that?  How could she deny her kid his family at Christmas?

"Fine," she said on a sigh. "We'll go to the Jones's, but I don't want you to get your hopes up about anything happening between me and Killian."

****

Killian more than half expected Emma to cancel their Christmas Eve plans.  He felt as disoriented after that kiss as he would if he'd gotten whiplash.

They'd been having such a nice day--talking, laughing, flirting, playing.  And then she'd kissed the life out of him, leaving him feeling somehow both weak and boneless...and on fire with need for more.

And then the kiss was over and she was running away from him as quickly as she could manage.  He wasn't stupid; he understood her like the open book she was to him.  She was afraid. Her past had scarred her so badly he didn't know what it would take to heal her again.

Not for the first time, Killian wanted to hunt down Neal Cassidy and pummel him within an inch of his life.

Of course he was frustrated on his own account--his and Alice's, but even more so he ached at Emma's wounds, the ones that had yet to heal, the ones that were holding her back from happiness and love in her life.

She deserved better, she deserved so much better, but Killian knew she was afraid to reach for it.

He'd wanted to call her so many times over the past week, but he was afraid she wasn't yet ready to speak to him.

No, Killian certainly didn't expect her to keep their Christmas Eve date.

And so when he opened his door later that night to reveal not just Henry but Emma as well, his heart lurched in the pleasantest possible manner.

"Swan! Welcome!" He stammered as Henry pushed past them and the two children went off to amuse themselves elsewhere. "I was a bit afraid you wouldn't show up."

She glanced aside, everything about her looking uncomfortable. "I almost didn't.  Henry can be very persuasive, though."

"Swan, can we talk about the elephant in the room?" He asked after a moment.  Was it better to dance around the subject or attack it directly? He didn't know, but what he did know was that their kiss had sealed it in his mind.

He'd fallen deeply, passionately and irrevocably in love with Emma Swan.  What manner of man would he be if he let the love of his life out of his life without even a fight?

"Killian, it was only a kiss," she said, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "How is that an elephant in the room?"

"It's what the kiss exposed," he answered, looking at her earnestly, willing her to see his sincerity. "I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, my Milah, to believe I could find someone else. That is until I met you."

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a deep breath as the impact of what he'd just said hit her.

"Killian…" she said warily.  She wanted to run; he could see it in her eyes.  He stopped her with a gentle hand to her arm.

"Emma, I don't say this to make you uncomfortable or to trap you into something you're uncomfortable with."

"Then why do you say it?" She asked, the anger heavy in her voice.  He knew her well enough to see the fear and pain beneath the anger.

"Because you deserve to be loved," he said simply. "You deserve a man who will cherish you with every beat of his heart.  If you don't wish that man to be me, I'll of course honor your wishes, but don't close yourself off from love, Swan.  It's worth it."

"Is it, though?" She asked in a voice that ached. "I can't fall for you and then lose you.  I can't.  I can't lose you too."

His heart hurt at the pain in her voice, and almost unconsciously he rubbed at her shoulders. "I don't know what the future will bring," he said "no one does.  What I do know is that I'd never leave you.  I'd never willingly hurt you.  Search me out.  See if I'm lying to you."

He forced himself to stay still, open and honest while she stared into his eyes.  After a moment she shook her head, something suspiciously like hope coming into her eyes for the first time all night. "No, I don't think you are."

"I'm not," he said firmly.  "So what do you say, Emma?  Will you take a chance on me? Take a chance on us?"

For a moment more she merely stood there, looking at him, and then she stepped forward kissing him slowly, gently.

From behind them came the sound of cheering.  They broke apart, laughing at the sight of their two kids standing behind them jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.

"I told you it would work!" Alice said.

"You aren't mad at us for being sneaky, are you?" Henry asked.

Emma laughed before reaching down and threading her fingers with Killian's. "Nope.  I think we are all gonna be so happy together there won't be any room left for anger, kid."

[imkittyjustkitty]

💻 — Fluffuly #3

— prompt : "I could kiss you right now" @fluffuly2022

— pairings : Lex Foster x Reader (ft. Platonic Hannah Foster)

"Okay so, I have things all figured out, where to stay and everything," You explain to Lex and Hannah, the two of them sitting to your right, Lex closest to you, with Hannah tucked into her side as they listen intently.

"There's an AirBNB I've booked for us, but that's temporary, just until," You open another tab, clicking on a certain listing on the Real Estate website, "This is all ready for us."

Lex lets out a shocked laugh, and Hannah gasps at the property shown on the screen.

Lex's head drops to rest on your shoulder, an open mouthed smile painted over her face, "You really organised all this?"

You grin at your success, "Yeah, yeah I did."

You all sit in a buzzing silence for a moment, so excited you want to never stop talking while simultaneously being stunned into silence.

All of your futures are falling into place and you can all finally see yourselves growing old somewhere safe, somewhere where you're not held back and told no. It's surreal, you're all starting to finally feel alive.

"Okay but wait," You laugh, the two girls looking to you curiously, "I did have to falsify a few financial records, just until Lex and I have a stable income.

"So, now you two," You point to the sisters sat beside you, "Are distantly related to some guy called Paul Mathews. He works some place that pays well and never answers his personal phone so we don't have to worry about him ruining this. Just, if anyone asks, he like fucked over your parents or something and feels bad so he pays you guys back financially, yeah?"

Lex's shocked smile grows into a full grin, her eyes lighting up as she looks at you.

She can't help it, it slips past her walls and out her lips before she even knows what she's saying, "I could kiss you right now."

Your eyes grow wide, not from disgust but from the feeling setting in you heart at her confession. The feelings she's suddenly expressing, something you've grown to be very familiar with whenever you're around her.

Without thinking, your lips quickly peck hers. It's over in an instant, and you're already packing up your laptop and shuffling away from Lex.

Getting up, you look down at Lex who still sits on the floor next to where you were just a moment ago, a blush painting her face, and a twinkle glowing in her eyes. A warmth grows in your chest as you watch her small smile dance across her face, biting her lip bashfully in an attempt to hide it.

Then you glance up from Lex to see Hannah, standing a bit behind her sister, who grins at you, her hands showing you two big thumbs-ups.

You laugh in disbelief, a lovesick smile growing along your lips, you just kissed Lex.

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Rolan: You know, if you ever get tired of adventuring, you could always come work at Sorcerous Sundries.

Durge: I don't think retail is the right career for me. My rancid blood desires nothing more than to reap death on this world. I am a vile soul, broken beyond repair.

Rolan: Sounds like an average Tuesday around here... We do have an annual employee picnic, though.

Durge: Does that help to soothe the unyielding rage within?

Rolan: *Sad sigh.* No.

- - - -

BG3 Incorrect Quotes Masterlist.

[nico-tines]

Some of my personal favorite tags/quotes from the Hatchetverse fics on ao3

[ghostface-knight]

i'd like to present my concept of nightmare time episodes where every (or almost every) person is played by the same person, inspired by jaime lyn beatty in daddy. here are some ideas:

peter spankoffski is done being at the bottom of the hatchetfield high food chain, and so he seeks out help to become cooler. he comes across ethan green, who, having just been left by his girlfriend lex, decides, "what the hell, i'll mentor this kid on being cool". when ted spankoffski learns that his little brother is hanging out with "that no-good ethan green", he confronts pete about it, perhaps a little too harshly. his intentions are good, but when has anything ever gone the way he meant? ted, like everybody in town, knows about ethan's reputation, and he thinks he'll be a bad influence on pete. he knows that, if anyone can, pete can make it out of hatchetfield, and he doesn't want ethan screwing that up. so he confronts him, and one thing leads to another, and eventually pete storms out in anger. ted knows if he goes after pete immediately, he'll only make things worse, so he decides he'll let him have his moment of teenage rebellion and then reconcile with him after. a few hours later, ted spankoffski, now drinking his problems away, is approached by a mysterious man who has somehow gotten into ted's apartment. wilbur cross, as he introduces himself, half-convinces and half-mind controls ted into believing that ethan is responsible for this, and the only way to protect pete is to kill ethan. he storms into ethan's tiny basement apartment, wielding his now shattered bottle of booze, and prepared to rip him limb from limb with his new super-powered companion. ethan can hold his own, though, and the brawl is a tough match. eventually, though, ethan manages to get the remaining shard of the bottle and shove it straight through ted's chest. as this happens, pete comes out of ethan's bathroom, revealing that he'd gone to ethan for comfort after his fight with ted. ted bleeds out on ethan's floor as pete holds him.

ruth fleming has graduated high school, and she's lucky enough to find a super chill job as a farmhand on the farm of emma perkins. one day, as they do their usual work (which isn't much, to be honest), they are approached by linda monroe, who is all but seething. she's goes on about how drugs are evil and she will not raise her children in a town where such depravity is taking place. they threaten her off the property, and they think that'll be over and done with. it's not like they've never had to deal with moralistic creeps like her before, and they've always come out the other side. linda comes back the next day with a petition signed by just about every member of the hatchetfield boating society. yeah whatever, perky's buds is not going to be dismantled by some stupid rich people who think they have more power than they do. in the midst of this, they've recently recieved a new client: 17 year old hannah foster. a quiet kid from hatchetfield high, who seems to have joined the smoke club as a way to make some friends. emma and ruth don't think much of it -- neither of them have any qualms about selling to teenagers, and business is business. however, hannah keeps coming back for more and more, and ruth starts to wonder if there's something else going on. back in the linda plot, linda has taken to bringing people out to the farm to protest. each day she (or, more accurately, the people she's hired) come with more and more people holding cardboard signs and chanting. it's really starting to get on emma's nerves. one day, while hannah is picking up her purchase, linda, surrounded by a mob of angry parents and hatchetfield adults, returns. suddenly, linda no longer seems like a nuisance, but a legitimate threat. her followers carry weapons and the menacing smile on her face tells emma and ruth that she isn't messing around. as the mob breaks through the door of the farm house, emma and ruth urge hannah to look for shelter. hannah refuses though, and emma swears her eyes begin to gleam almost inhumanly. the mob makes it to them, and are suddenly thrown back by a wave of psychic energy so powerful it shatters the walls of the house. hannah's new powers (on account of the weed) leave emma, ruth, and herself standing unharmed in the middle of a surrounding pile of groaning, injured people.

i have a few other concepts, but this is getting super long so i better leave it here for now lmao

[creepswrites]

Hola ví que está abierto y quería solicitar un Jason, Billy Lenz y Lester (si querés más) con una s/o que tiene mala cara siempre y un poco malumorada con los demás menos con ellos? Si no querés ignorame, besos y buenas noches (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

i don't speak spanish but google translate said "Hello, I saw that you are open and I wanted to request a Jason, Billy Lenz and Lester (if you want more) with an s/o that always has a bad face and is a bit grumpy with the others except with them? If you don't want to ignore me, kisses and good night (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)" so!! i hope this is what you asked for!

SLASHERS w/ a GN! S/O who has a grumpy face with others but not them

JASON VOORHEES

Sometimes other camp counselor potentials would show up, trying to give Camp Crystal Lake a fresh start, but Jason stopped them at every turn

You'd been a fresh, potential counselor once. But, of course, Jason put an end to that

You stayed with him though

You heard the story of the young boy who drowned and your heart just melted

So you and Jason became close. You were different to him, you weren't interested in sex and drinking

When Jason first met you, you'd been staring at one of your fellow counselors with an annoyed face

At first, he'd thought you were angry with them, but he learnt your face was just like that

Resting bitch face, you'd called it

But the way you just lit up when you saw him... it made him feel special

He loved when he'd spot you brooding and how you'd just smile at him, like your smile was just for him only

Jason feels honored that you only look happy around him

BILLY LENZ

You were part of the sorority where Billy had been staying

As he'd been stalking you and the rest of your sorority sisters, he'd learnt your behaviors and mannerisms

Particularly, he noticed how you never seemed to smile

You always looked perpetually annoyed by everyone and everything, which he found amusing

Even when you had to deal with his calls, your face never really changed

But when you finally met him?

You'd actually smiled, which made Billy's stomach hurt and he wanted to throw up from how sweet you were

You were always kind to him, careful to not overwhelm him when you held hands or kissed, and you always looked at him with a soft smile that made him melt

He'd bite you sometimes, trying to cope with how you made him feel, but you'd just laugh and kiss his head and talk to him

It made him feel special, that you weren't like that with anyone else other than him

LESTER SINCLAIR

Lester had first met you when you'd arrived to town, standing on the side of the road looking pissed beyond belief at the flat tire your car had

Your friend had been with you and you'd looked so annoyed he would've assumed your friend was the one who ruined the tire

But when you'd looked over at him, your face just softened into a shy smile

And Lester felt how red his face got, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered through talking to you

Once you started dating, he'd come visit you in the nearby town where you lived, bringing you flowers and blushing like a maniac

You'd always smile at him though, laughing brightly whenever he'd stumble over complimenting you

Sometimes he'd catch you talking with others before you noticed him, a bitter look on your face until you turned and saw him, lighting up like the sun

He was obsessed with you, like your happiness was only for him

[joey-the-boy]

me w/ fanfiction normally: put the guys in situations >:) make it all magical >:) make them sad

me w/ fanfiction for the hatchetfield fandom: please god take them out of the situations !! less of the magic please !! I just want them to be happy

[marvelmaniac715]

Plot summary of my next Hatchetfield angst fic:

Pokotho’s apotheosis is making a clean sweep through Hatchetfield, and in a desperate moment of pure terror, Tim Houston cries out for his mother Jane to rescue him. Fun fact: Pokey’s powers allow him to revive those who died long before his apotheosis began, and if seeing Jane Perkins is the one thing Tim Houston wants, well, what’s the harm?…

[soft-persephone]

An Easily Avoidable Accident (But I Needed it so Bad)

Sub!Nick Miller x Black!Fem!Reader

I do write with Black Women in mind, but my fics can be read by any woman.

AN: Thank you to my friends that helped me with this fic! It means so much to me and I am so grateful for your generosity! I truly hope you all enjoy this final product!

MDNI // Rating: Explicit // WC 3.8k // Warnings: light Sub!Dom vibes, mild exhibition kink, biting, marking, thing for sounds, extra light hand kink // masterlist

Nick and You had the entire loft to yourselves.

That meant you two had time for anything. No prying eyes and no need to be quiet or fear of being caught by anyone.

Naturally, that meant they had a no pants day.

Nick could free ball it in his boxers and you could wear that little tank top you liked to sleep in and walk around in your underwear.

“I’m pretty sure you were a man in your past life.” Nick joked as you excitedly shimmied out of your sweats and threw them on the other side of the couch.

“There is nothing wrong with me wanting to do this as bad as you! This is normal for all human beings!” You defended yourself with a huff.

“Yes, lots of people enjoy wearing less clothes at home, but you are excited about it in a man way. I can’t explain how, I’m just saying. . . It takes one to know one.”

You smushed his face with a hand and walked past him to the kitchen.

“Fuck you,” you playfully scoffed, “what do you want for breakfast?”

The rest of the day was pleasantly uneventful. As the day went by and the evening wined down, Nick had put his loose sweats back on.

They were old, thin, and ratty. He definitely could not wear them in public anymore.

“You might as well just not wear any pants.” You smiled at him, more out of shock than anything else. You weren’t sure what to think about such a horrible piece of clothing.

“They’re house pants!”

“Your dick is right there!” You yelled back. “It’s like if boxers came in pants size!”

He threw a pillow at you and you threw one back before he wrestled you onto the couch.

Excitement aside.

He was in his favorite spot on the couch, but in an even better way! He could prop his legs up and lean back as comfortable as he wanted to be.

He was a fucking king on his throne and he couldn’t be happier.

You were still walking around in your skimpy underwear and tank top.

He would have wanted you to go throw some pants before the guys come back, but hopefully it was one of those nights where they all found some women to hook up with and stay the night, or just fuck off somewhere.

Instead, he was too comfortable with your ass on his lap and you laying the opposite way on top of him, on your stomach, typing away on your laptop and shifting a hoard of papers to and fro, taking the moment of spare time to get ahead on some work while he lazily watched the game.

Or at least tied to.

God bless them, but he didn’t give a fuck about the Lions and who they were playing.

On any other given day he would have, but it’s hard to remember his love for sports when your hips keep sliding back and forth on him whenever you sit up real quick to get a better look at a paper, your hips pushed forward, right over his dick. Once you finally highlight or read whatever you were trying to read carefully, your hips moved back toward his chest and over his dick once again, leaving him to think of nothing but of how sexy you were.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a more intimate setting.

Hell, even at this moment.

You two in this loft alone, on this very couch in this very moment, naked for no one but God to see, you riding him just like this giving him no choice but to take whatever you gave him.

He brought a hand to his mouth and bit his finger, hard. Willing himself to stay still and not thrust his hips up onto your clothed pussy.

He needed a distraction, but football wasn’t working. You moving your hips and shuffling every five minutes wasn’t working either. Why were you suddenly moving your hips up and down on him like that?.

You slid your hips forward before sighing in frustration and moving them back until his dick was crushed under the weight of your stomach.

Were you trying to kill him? Did you somehow not notice his growing erection?

You sat up, quickly dragging your hips forward, again! But this time it wasn’t where he needed it. This time he needed you on his cock, desperately at that.

“Nick, you okay?” You turned your head back, putting down a paper. The movement causes you to push your glasses back on your nose.

Fuck, you were cute. He hoped you ran out of your contacts forever.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his chest to hide the sound of his moan.

“Nick?”

“Y—yeah.. yeah I’m good. . “ he managed to mumble out.

Solid cover dumbass.

He couldn’t help going back to the thought of you both naked. You turning around to look at him with a different look on your face.

“You got so tense all of a sudden.” You continued before turning around back to your work. “And I know you don’t care about the Lions losing, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything serious.”

“N…no.”

Oh, he was just making it worse, but you were a bigger dumbass than him, apparently. He says it lovingly, but how did you not know?!?!? Were you that into your work?

“Well, just let me know if anything changes.”

You give a quick wink before you turn around, and he moans.

His hips cant up with such force you bounce up and back down on him, and he couldn’t stop the whimper in time.

He covered his face, letting the sounds come out.

“Nick?” Your voice was in a fucking panic and it was embarrassing to say the least.

You try to move but he quickly grasps your hips. His nails are almost digging into your skin.

“Nonodontmove!” He slurs, his voice rising at a higher octave that makes you throb. “Stay,” he was panting now, his chest rising and falling as you put your hands over his,” please,” he openly whined, not holding back or caring anymore,” stay.”

Oh fuck…

You licked your lips and fought against the panic. “Yeah?”

“Can you just wait a little bit longer for me? I Promise to do something as soon as i'm done.”

“Okay,” he licked his lips, his eyes growing full and watery in such a way you wanted to hold your breath.

He looked at you with such adoration and emotion you swore you would die if you didn't look away. They were softer now, much softer. He looked more calm. A stranger to how desperate and wild they were seconds ago, but you weren't fooled.

No, there was a deeper, more sinister side to this yearning gaze.

While he saved putting his heart on his sleeve for rare tender moments, it was also a fucking weapon. A weapon created for your own demise. You fought the urge to give in, to throw her papers aside and everything she’s been working on to give him whatever he wanted.

But you couldn't. No matter how bad you needed it, you couldn’t.

You were emailing back and forth with a client and Xaiviar was cc’d on it as well. He was the lead lawyer on a case and you were helping him with it. The client was about to drop the case altogether, but you managed to find some evidence that would ensure the jury was siding in her favor.

If she was patient and held out, she would get everything she deserved and the bastard that hurt her could pay.

You just needed some fucking time!

Nick found a documentary about gorillas.

Nice!

As much as he loved them and tried to bring up the essay he wrote on them one morning after doing a bunch of mystery pills that he took one night, he could care less about them right now. He loved you just a tiny bit more.

He bit his lip and tried to let his better nature take hold of him.

Nick's hands were gliding across your skin. Smoothing and kneading the plump flesh of your thighs before coming up to rest at your hips for while, but it didn’t last. He soon became antsy, needing to touch you.

Hoping that just the feel of you in his hands would be enough to distract him from how hard he was. That it wouldn’t make anything worse for him.

But it was making it worse for you.

You could hardly concentrate.

After rediscovering every curve and dip of your body. Every scar, bump, and blemish of your smooth supple skin. It always held a subtle glow, bringing attention to your more than lovely over and undertones. He wanted to put you on display so everyone could see this much of your skin.

The world deserve to know how beautiful your skin was. How beautiful you were.

He decided to test puting his hands on your thighs to see if that would help. His fingers gently graze against your inner thighs. Going up and up until he was too close to your center, daring not to get too close, and moving them back towards your knee. He couldn't stop.

It was mindless action, hypnotizing even.

“Nick,” your tone was bitter in your mouth, sounding harsh to your owne ears, “stop it.”

You snapped around to face him with a glare.

Where these emotions were coming from was a mystery to you, but the foreign feeling twisted your stomach with anticipation.

Nick's eyes were half lidded and struggling to stay open. He gurgled out a moan, the action making him cover his face with his hands.

“Nick. . .” You absentmindedly licked your lips, “let me see your face.”

Nick's chest had been moving up and down erratically since you turned around. His soft pants spurred you on.

Your mind was racing with what to possibly say or do next.

Nick slowly placed his hands on his chest, rubbing at it in circles with his left hand. A sign that usually meant he was anxious.

Every part of him was strained in concentration towards you as if the mere thought of looking away would hurt too much. His eyes were dark, wet, and needy.

Your mouth fell open in a silent o, and you ground your hips down in one fluid motion causing you both to moan.

You both were so fucked.

A wave of something was washing over you. It crashed and crashed against your entire being and the anxiety bubbled in fear of it taking you under, whatever this was. The foreign lightning of it all cracked and crackled in your veins.

Your laptop quipped out a short sound. Then, and only then, you notice how quiet the room was.

You momentarily turned, checking the message in your email.

Dear Ms, I am sorry for getting so indecisive at such a crucial time in the case. Everything has just been so stressful. I wanted it all to be over as quickly as possible, adn i got in the way of you adn your firm doing the job that I, myself hired you to do. I am so terribly sorry. I would liek to see this man put behind bars for good or worse.

Thank you again for everything. I leave my fate in your hands.

Thank, God!

You said a quick prayer, and emailed your client back, making sure to cc Xaiviar.

You closed your laptop and shuffled your papers back into a bifold, tossing them along the further end of the couch, but not so far that they’d fall.

Keeping your position, you turned slightly, moving Nicks shirt up as high as it could go. You eyed his chest, the wide expanse of hair there you’ve obsessed over from time to time, the happy trail that was also a favorite of yours.

Nick’s body moved with the flow of your hand.

“Please,” his voice was higher and strained as stuttered the words out, “please, I’ll be so good please. Just please.”

You ground your hips on his, masking are you were positioned in just the right spot. The feeling of him through your underwear just felt to good. Your movements were slow and steady. Just enough to drive you both crazy, but not nearly enough for either of you.

The anticipation of it was thrilling. Your heads grew headier and headier with each sound he made. With every stutter, pant, and moan he made

The door clicked and you both froze.

“What pray tell is going on in here?” A voice boomed.

Nick cleared his throat and put his hands in a more casual position at your waist. Squeezing lightly just to keep you still.

“Hey, Coach.” It came out gravely but natural.

You were surprised, thinking about how he sounded like he was going to explode just a few moments earlier.

“Don’t, “hey Coach me. You weirdo.” He scoffed. “Go have sex in your room like the rest of us! Just because you're having sex with the same girl every night doesn’t make it okay to play exhibitionist!”

“Nick and his girl is doing what!” Winston slammed the door. “That’s disgusting!”

“Mhmm.” Coach sassily added.

“Oh. My. God.” Nick covered his face with his hands.

Needless to say. All the sexual tension was sucked out of the room. Sitting like this on Nick‘’a lap was starting to make you feel overexposed and awkward.

He reached over and stretched to pull the blanket usually strown accross the couch to cover your body with. You silently thanked him, and avoided looking Coach or Winston in the eye.

“You,” Coach pointed at you,” I am very disappointed in.”

“But, Ernie—“ you pouted.

“—No!” He interrupted. “No Earnie! From now on you call me Coach just like everyone else!”

“Bu—“

“No buts! You have to earn your way back up to calling me my name! “ he shook his head at you with so much disgust it felt absurd.

He was really mad at you. . .

“Now you two go to your room and think about what you did!”

“Mh mh mh.” Winston shook his head with an equal amount of distaste.

Needless to say you both retreated into Nick's room for a very awkward and short walk of shame.

-

“Please. . . Oh, wait. . . Fuck.” Nick moaned before whimpering out your name.

You made him cum with your hand twice, then three times with your mouth, and one more time after that because you just couldn’t help yourself.

His hands were gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles were white.

You had your hands braced against his chest and you slowly sat on his cock. He was stretching you wide with how thick he was. In this new position, it felt even thicker, making it harder than normal.

“Please,” his voice several octaves higher, letting you know just how close he was. “Let me help. Let me touch you.” He strained out before gritting his teeth.

“I.. got it.” You had to fight your instinct to tense your whole body once you had finally taken all of him in. He was so big and thick you could just feel him pressing against your spot already, making you breathless in the process.

You massaged his chest. Starting with his shoulders, and moving down to his pecs. You squeezed them, reveling in the feeling of his pliant flesh in your hands. In another time or setting you would have liked to bend down and suck on one. Biting and relishing the feeling is him in your mouth, so hard he’d bruise for weeks, fading until stray marks of your teeth were implanted into his skin.

Keeping your hands there for balance, you slowly rose up until only his tip was inside before grinding down slowly until all of him was inside of you again.

“Your doing so good baby.”

His cock twitched inside of you at the praise, making your mouth fall open in a silent moan.

You quickened your pace ever so lightly. Nick’s hands fisting the sheets. Each one spurred you on further, filling you with an unbearable heat. It seers through every pore of your body. Opening up every space of your skin, consuming every part of Nick as possible.

His whines, his pants, and his moans. The way his skin turned an angry red all over. Proudly displaying the evidence that you both were on fire.

“Touch me” You moaned softly.

He was on you in an instant. He pushed himself up by his elbows. His hands, his massive warm hands roamed every inch of your skin. Burning you in their haste to feel your waist, the expense of your back, and the peaks of your breast. He pulled, squeezed, and tweaked them until you had to push his hands away.

“Not nice is it?” He huffed in your face with a short laugh. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours. Where his began and yours stopped was indistinguishable as you both panted in the sliver of space between one another.

He leaned in for a kiss, and you pulled your head back slightly out of his reach with similar amusement.

“I never gave you permission to kiss me.”

His eyes grew wide and blown out. His brown irises drowned in the pools of his pupils as he looked at you with such reverence.

He quickly pivoted and moved to mouthing at your neck, biting you hard as he whined into your flesh.

“You're such a good boy Nick,” his hips thrust up into yours, hard. “Oh, you're so so good.” He did it again this time before squeezing his fingers into you. His nails were sure to leave little moons into your skin for weeks.

You laughed. It was breath, trained, and cruel.

“Ah, ah, ah,” You grabbed his hair tightly, pulling his mouth off of you. “I wanna hear you baby. I thought you were my good boy?”

“I am! I am, please!” He whimpered into your skin, keeping his head underneath your chin, his mouth open and close to you. Because if he couldn’t keep his mouth on you, he’d find a way to get as close to it as possible without disobeying you.

“You gotta let me hear every sound that comes out of your mouth baby, okay?”

His fingers adjusted their grip on your hips, pulling and stretching at your skin as tight as it could go, making hissed in response. Even when his brain was fuzzy with arousal and he was overwhelmed with praise or reprimand from you, he could still do the little things that drove you wild. Whether he was in control or not, he could bite, mark, and rough you up in all the ways you loved.

He’s going to drive you mad. You're sure of it now.

“I need your help baby?” You moved so you both would be eye to eye with one another. “I need you fuck me now.” You cupped both sides of his face. “I can’t get us both where we need to be.” You kissed him all over. His cheeks, his forehead, up and down his neck, before you bit down in several places, sucking harder than you ever had. He let out a soft meek sound you didn’t think was possible. Almost gentle if his voice wasn’t such a low raspy thing. Almost gravely sometimes when it wasn’t smooth and addicting.

The closest thing you could describe it as would be a mewl of some kind. It was a sound only you could pull out of him. A side of him only you were privy to. No one else.

Your walls clenched around him at the sound. He did it again.

“Fuck, baby.” Your chest heaved. “I’m not gonna last much longer, I need you to fuck me, now.” You pulled his hair for emphasis.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He rutted his hips into yours at a hard, brutal pace. And with every high pitched murmur of good boy, your so good, your so perfect for me, he thrust up into you harder.

“Love you baby,” you nibbled into his ear, “love how good you feel inside me. It's like you were made for me.” You kissed him as hard as you could without getting lost of how he was sliding in and out of you. The loud wet slaps of his hips hitting yours were filling the room, driving you both crazy. “You're mine. My baby boy, so good for me.”

He whimpered again, mewling into your ear as he cradled your neck with one final grip as he came. Filling you up. It was so so much. Your legs grew tight, your muscles squeezing past their limit before you followed him soon after.

He pulled out laying you down on your back. Peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“You're amazing!” His eyes sparkled.

“Was that really your first time doing something like that?” You grabbed at the sheets to hide your face. It was hot and burning even more so after the sex you just had. You did not want to talk about it.

“Hey, hey,” he uncovered your face and moved to straddle your lap. He grabbed your hands and put them over your head. “Please,” he looked into your eyes again,. “Don’t hide from me. I really want to know.”

It was what you two did.

When things were too tough to talk about. . . Or weird and embarrassing. Eye contact just worked. It made you both feel safer and calmer to see the other person wasn’t judging you. That they were genuine in whatever way they wanted to support you.

You nodded weakly. Not trusting your words.

“Well you're a natural.”

“Nick we gotta—“

“—Don’t worry. I will buy a planb for you tomorrow. We got a little carried away and forgot about condoms.” He waved his free hand in dismissal before smiling. “It’s okay. I got it handled.”

“I was going to ask if you could let me go now.”

“Let you go.” He tightened his grip on your hands. He still wore his charming smile, but his eyes were growing dark and cloudy, pooling with desire. “Now why would I let you go when I have to pay you back for every time you wouldn’t let me kiss or touch you.”

He suddenly thrust his thick very hard cock into you, still wet from both of you.

“I'm not done with you yet.”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

Please let me know if you ever want to be tagged on my fics! It’s no trouble at all and I would be honored to do so!

[imkittyjustkitty]

Kitty's Daily Pride — Day 8

prompt ; (gender) envy

pairings ; Ethan Green x Bestfriend!Reader

summary ; It's been more than a day since you've last heard from your best friend Ethan, or from anyone for that matter. Something's not right.

+ reader is gender neutral & no mentions of y/n

warnings ; none i think, reader's freaking out, its just kinda spooky but no violence or anything like that, although the death of many characters is implied/speculated

genre ; angst

word count ; 902

A/N ; are people noticing how obscurely my fics end up relating to the original prompt bc i am nsndfsjk, its okay though because im proud of this ! :D also im trying to include more queer aspects to the stories bc this is for pride after all, sometimes tho i just get an idea i like and run w it lmao !!

also i plan on writing a part 2/bonus little thing either today or tomorrow which i'll link here once i post it !!

do not steal, repost, or redistribute my work in any way.

The last time you’d heard from Ethan was one day, 2 hours, and 38 minutes ago. The longest you and Ethan had been apart or not messaged each other up until now was like 8 hours, at the very most a day. To say that you were worried would be an understatement.

It was just past 7 at night. The amount of times you'd tried to call Ethan's phone was astronomical, but every time you were met with an automated message, not even his voicemail message that you'd grown used to, which somehow made you even more worried.

It was 8:06 now. Not being able to reach Ethan (although you did still try every half an hour or so, just in case), you tried calling anyone else you could think of. The obvious choice was to call his girlfriend Lex, maybe the two of them finally got on their way to California and Ethan had just forgotten his phone, not a very likely occurrence but you were clinging to the theory like it was your lifeline. So you called her, quite a few times, maybe too many, but she never answered. If you weren't worried before, now you definitely were.

But it'll be okay, you hadn't even called his parents yet, so he was probably just with them. Maybe he was grounded and that's why he wasn't answering, right?

It was 8:41 now, and you called his parents, his dad first. You were gripping the phone so hard that your hands started to shake, the ringing of the phone echoing through your head as you quietly pleaded for Ethan's dad to pick up.

No answer. At this point the only thing keeping you sane, the only reason you hadn't completely lost it, was unlikely reasoning. You'd pulled out a scrap piece of paper with a list of names, and why they wouldn't have picked up, it gave you a feeling that was something like hope. So far your list read: Ethan - grounded, Lex - with hannah or maybe phone bill expired (?), Ethan's dad - at work ??

They were reasonable explanations, all things that on any other day you wouldn't so much as bat an eye at. All things that you wouldn't question were there not a pit of suspicion swirling through your stomach and anxiety aching your every bone. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

But if something was wrong, you had zero fucking clue on how to handle it. So what did you do? You continued to call people in the hope of reaching Ethan. This provided the only string that kept you tied to reality, holding onto the hope that the next person you called would explain everything and all would be back to normal.

9:01. You called Ethan's mother, a woman who you'd always relied on to pick up calls straight away. No answer.

9:13. You called Frank fucking Pricely, a person you'd met maybe twice, once when applying for a job at Toy Zone, and for the second time (which really didn't count), but who you'd seen briefly when picking Lex up from her job. And of course the asshole didn't answer your call.

You were running out of what little hope you had left, when you remembered perhaps the one other person Lex (and by extension Ethan) associated with. Your old shop teacher, Mr Houston.

9:34. You rang his number, listening to the dial, waiting for the inevitable 'the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable' message. Once, twice, your phone rang, until...

It stopped ringing, and you were staring right at a screen where the call timer started counting.

You froze. You didn't want to of course, your whole being was begging you to just scream out all your questions, but your throat was blocked and your hands shook so much that your phone dropped right out of your hands. falling, falling until it hit the ground.

You heard a crack but couldn't bring yourself to look down.

"Hey there."

Your eyes widened.

A laugh crackled through your now half-broken phone speaker, "Don't be afraid."

Okay fuck that now you were definitely afraid.

"Who," your voice wavered, revealing just how terrified you were, whoever this was, they sounded eerily familiar, "Who are you."

"Mmmm good question..."

A knock on your bedroom door. Your body flooded with terror.

The door flew open, crashing into the wall, right of it's hinges, revealing a shadowed figure.

The figure was the same height as Ethan, the figure's hair looked just like how you remembered Ethan's to be, the figure stood like Ethan would, with a carefree appearance, hands in it's pockets as it grins at you. And that's what breaks the illusion, that sickening grin. It's the kind that screams ill intent, the kind that makes your blood boil and stomach churn.

That is not Ethan Green.

And now you know, Ethan's not coming back, you can feel it, the truth floats through the air, palpable and headache-inducing. No matter how many people you call desperately, no how matter how many dial tones ring through your phone, no matter hard you wish for this to all be some sort of fever dream.

The feeling you were trying so hard to hide under layers of conspiracy and empty hope is now flung in front of your eyes unwaveringly, Ethan's gone, and he's not coming back.

reblogs are appreciated so much !!

[kiss-theggoat]

(Shuffles up to you nervously) hi I was wondering if it would be ok to request a billy Lenz fix where the reader actually has a pet pig, also your my favorite writer 🙂

A/N: Two things! One, sorry for my inactivity! I was away on a trip. Two! Thanks so much for the suggestion and thank you so much for the kind words. I decided to expand your request and do different slashers with different kinds of pets!! I hope that’s okay and I really hope you like it!

Slashers With Your Pets

Slashers Included: Billy Lenz, Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger

Billy Lenz:

If you have a….

Cat, Billy is a cat man. He loooves cats, they’re so warm and cuddly, but they also understand boundaries and the need to be alone sometimes. The only thing he might not enjoy about cats is the fact that some can be timid around loud noises, which immediately means they’re timid around Billy.

Dog, Billy is less of a dog person. He thinks that dogs can be overwhelming in their attention, especially if one jumps on him or barks at him. He likes the gentle giant dogs, golden retrievers that just lay down and don’t do anything. But, if you have a little dog that barks at everything that moves, expect Billy to be very unhappy.

Reptile or Invert, BILLY HATES SNAKES. If you bring a snake or tarantula or lizard or scorpion into the house, Billy is not going to want you near him. The only reptile or invert I could see him being okay with would be a leopard gecko type. Something smaller and less active.

Farm Animal, if you had pigs, horses, or cows, something like that, Billy would probably be vulgar about how they smelled. Of course, if you owned a pig, he’d call it is little piggy. You could definitely convince him to help out with the animals, especially the pigs or cows. He thinks the cows are cute, and wants to spend time with the little piggies.

Michael Meyers

If you have a….

Cat, Michael likes cats. He understands them, they understand him. He likes to be left alone, they like to be left alone. They get along great. But, if you catch him petting your cat on the couch or inviting it up into his lap, don’t mention anything. He’ll be embarrassed that you caught him in a vulnerable time. He’ll never admit to liking your furry friend.

Dog, Michael actually really likes dogs. He likes big scary looking dogs, Rottweilers, Dobermans, Cane corsos, those types. Because even though they’re scary, they’re well trained and methodical, just like him. If you have a big dog, expect to peel around the corner and catch Michael giving it a pat on the head or a belly rub every once in a while.

Reptile or Invert, Michael could care less. They don’t do anything, so he doesn’t feel the need to pay attention to them. If you have a big lizard or something, he might be a little hesitant to touch it or go near it, but other than that, he walks by the tank without a second thought.

Farm Animal, Michael really doesn’t enjoy farm animals. They smell, require a lot of care, and make a lot of noise. They sort of cramp his style, and he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d want to take care of them.

Jason Voorhees:

If you have a…

Cat, Jason likes your cat because you like your cat, but overall, he’d really prefer an animal that shows him more affection. He wants something that wants to be near him all the time, not something he has to force to be near him.

Dog, Jason would love your dog. He would probably be a little timid at first, but after him and your dog got close, they’d be thick as thieves. They’d go out in the woods and play fetch together, Jason would carry the pup around no matter how big or small. He would adore your dog, and your dog would adore him.

Reptile or Invert, Jason would be a little scared of a tarantula or a lizard or a snake. He would probably be interested in them and try to like them because you liked them, but when it came to handling or feeding, that would definitely be your job.

Farm animal, if you had some farm animals, Jason would welcome them with open arms on his camp. He’d probably be the most open to horses or cows, but would like to see you so caring. Seeing you put in the work to take care of something so time consuming would be a really endearing trait.

Freddy Krueger

If you had a…

Cat, Freddy doesn’t like. Freddy isn’t a cat guy, he’s not into all the cuddling and the meowing and the fur. Heaven forbid your cat tear a thread from his sweater, he might just bust a vein in his forehead from holding in his angry yells. His kind of cat would be the one in the corner that hisses at everyone.

Dog, he only likes very certain dogs. He’s okay with dogs that mind their own business. Ones that just hang out in the other room and don’t bug him. If you had a dog that jumped up on him or barked at him, he would hate it. Or, his least favorite kind, tiny dogs with high pitched barks. Don’t even get him started.

Reptile or Invert, Freddy thinks they’re cool. I think he’d like lizards the most, like if you had an iguana or a bearded dragon, he’d hang out with it next to him, just chilling. If you owned a tarantula or a scorpion or any other invert, he’d be interested in it, often asking to feed it and handle it if possible.

Farm animal, no. Don’t ask. Don’t even propose the idea. Stinky, loud, annoying. He hates farm animals unless they are on his plate as a juicy steak or a nice burger. He might be able to tolerate it if you ride or own horses, but other than that, he’s really not into it.

[kat-xox]

you look so pretty

pretty like the sun

-r.a.b.

[ghostface-knight]

i'm just. thinking a lot about john macnamera and wilbur cross lately, specifically the moment where wilbur came out of the portal. maybe his coms shut off, and his mission ran a few minutes over. john was running around HQ frantically, desperately checking every means of communication for some sign wilbur was alive. and then he came out. do you think john pulled him into his arms, holding him close and whispering words of love and worry into his ear? only for wilbur to pull back, and john sees that he's... different. wrong. john can't place it at first. he looks him over, pleading for him to say something. then it hits him. wilbur's eyes -- his beautiful, brown eyes -- are green.

[paranormaltheatrekid]

They are sapphics now. Why? Because it’s fun for me. Toxic yuri wins

[creepswrites]

❝ CREEPS ‣ HE/IT ‣ REQUESTS OPEN ❞ ‣ ALL WRITING ‣ MASTERLIST ‣ VIEW RULES AND REGULATIONS BELOW TO REQUEST!

I. ❝ RESTRICTIONS ❞

‣ The following themes are PROHIBITED: racism, homophobia, transphobia, inc*st, ped*philia, illegal age gaps, extreme/harmful fetishes and kinks, r*pe, self-h*rm, suic*de, & extremely graphic abuse/depictions of abuse.

‣ Topics such as mental illness, violent scenes, and mention/depiction of abuse may pop up on occasion and will be properly tagged. While violent scenes may occur, I try to avoid topics I know to be upsetting to read as well as topics I myself find upsetting.

‣ I will NOT write smut with underage muses of mine, even if the reader is the same age.

‣ I will write for AMAB, AFAB, TRANS, and GN READERS! If you have specific pronouns for your reader request, make sure to state those! I always default to gender neutral reader unless otherwise specified :)

‣ Please do NOT repost my writing anywhere! Ask to translate, do not unless I have given explicit permission for you to do so.

II. ❝ THEMES ❞

‣ Common themes I write for include but are not limited to:

fluff / slice of life

angst / darker themes

nsfw / smut

violence

multi-chapter stories

‣ I do write reader x canon OR canon x canon, so long as it does not violate any of my restrictions! I can be picky about what canon x canon pairing I write for though, it has to speak to me.

III. ❝ REQUESTING ❞

‣ I reserve the right to deny any request for any reason.

‣ Do not spam/pressure me to write! I write for what inspires me in the moment. Requests will be completed when I have the time.

‣ Requests sent when they're closed will be discarded!

HEADCANONS | 1-3K ONESHOT | 4K+ ONESHOT

‣ Headcanons : Five character max, one character min. If the headcanon prompt is specific enough, it can be combined with a small drabble! These vary in length/detail. Unless characters for headcanons are specified, I'll likely write as many/as few as I feel inspired for! Usually within the same fandom/theme, so long as they fit the prompt given!

‣ 1-3k Oneshot : These vary in length & detail depending on the material provided. If requesting, please specify, otherwise I default to headcanons. These can take me longer than headcanons so I take requests for them more sparingly.

‣ 4k+ Oneshot : Meant for more specific scenarios with lots of ideas & content involved! I rarely do these unless I'm particularly inspired by the prompt given. Usually, 4k+ is reserved for long-term story chapters.

IV. ❝ MUSES ❞

‣ Michael Myers : Halloween (1987, RZ, & 2018/Kills)

‣ Jason Voorhees : Friday the 13th

‣ Bubba Sawyer & Thomas Hewitt : The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

‣ Brahms Heelshire : The Boy (2016)

‣ Billy Lenz : Black Christmas (1974)

‣ Vincent Sinclar, Bo Sinclair, & Lester Sinclair : House of Wax (2005)

‣ Stu Macher & Billy Loomis : Scream

‣ Leslie Vernon : Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

‣ Pyramid Head : Silent Hill

‣ Carrie White : Carrie

‣ Danny Johnson, Anna, & Amanda Young : Dead by Daylight ‣ You may ask me to try any DBD character though!

‣ Corey Cunningham : Halloween Ends (sparingly)

‣ Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers : Stranger Things (sparingly)

‣ Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom : IT (1990, 2017 & 2019) (sparingly)

‣ ICON + HEADER ‣ COVER IMAGE ‣ LAYOUT INSPO

[inkwell-illustrations]

I kinda want to write a macnacross fanfic