#they would eat as a ghostface duo

[loomiskiller]

scary father with an even scarier daughter duo.

#& gaslight gatekeep ghostface ( ooc ) #please y’all don’t know how important they are to me #sam looks so much like him #whether it is scream 1 era billy or scream requel era billy #they would eat as a ghostface duo #but billy is trying to be better and do better and he’s not going to let her repeat the cycle #he is trying to break the cycle #he wants her to be better than him he wants better for her

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Tilt Shift." Jason Carvey X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Alright Bloodfest week two is in the bag! And who do we have but our limited screen time shitty film bro Ghostface Jason Carvey! I dunno why, but I really like him, he’s entering into the rotation. Buckle up guys, this is a pure hate fucking piece. Let’s go. 

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 4K. Jason Carvey X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Jason Sucks. You Kinda Suck. Enemies To Fuck Buddies. Arguing. You And He Hate Each Other. Raw Sex. Vaginal Sex. Eating Out. Man Handling. Some Dominance. 

—

You don’t think there is a single human being on Earth you get along with less with than one Jason-Who-Gives-A-Fucking-Shit-What-His-Middle-Name-Is-Carvey. He fucking sucks. He always wants to play devil's advocate, he always seemed to think your opinions were less than and had always had some smart comment to make to whatever you attempted to add to class discussion, he was a typical, shitty, film bro asshole. You avoided him whenever possible. You reluctantly had to see him multiple times a week in film class, and bumped into him around campus far more often than you’d like.

Getting paired up by random number lottery to do a duo project was the worst possible thing that could happen, there is no one that you would have liked less than him to be partnered with. A heavy sigh and your head dropped to your desk, he immediately launched into complaints and the class laughed, yeah it was real fucking funny how you were going to be tied to him for the end of semester project. 

This is your nightmare, you mused, this is Hell. 

The idea was that you are supposed to take a movie trailer and edit it, so it looks like it fits into a different genre, a great project you would have normally jumped at were you put with anyone else. The first three days were spent arguing over which trailer from the list to go with, you took so long that all the other options were snapped up, and you were left with the last one, forced to take it, and Jason didn’t take any blame for the fact the slim pickings you were saddled with were his fault. He said, “We gotta make it look like a horror film-”

And you were so tired of his crap already that you conceded. 

“Fine, whatever you fucking want, Jason.” You sighed, and he asked, clearly not buying that you would give in first, “Wait, really?”

“Really, let’s make it look like the dumbest, cheesiest, shlockiest 80s gore fest we can.” Even with your flat and less than impressed tone, you thought he would be all about it, but in typical Jason fashion he took offence. He started to say that you could make it look much better than that, and you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

The guy was always so busy, you had limited time to do this and as much as you didn’t want to work with him, you had to get this done, intent on getting a good grade. Turning in late would cut into your mark's considerably. After a pile of texts and no less than five voicemails, you finally get a curt, “I booked the editing room at 10 PM, see you there.” 

You had plans, but you needed to get this project done, so you cancelled the evening's activities reluctantly and made your way over. You had already gotten ready to go out tonight when he messaged, gave you less than two hours notice. You’d had just enough time to finish your food since you were out at dinner and make it back, run in and get your shit before you had to depart for your meeting with your less than stellar partner. You make it there five minutes before ten pm, you find the room empty, of course he got the last slot, no one wants to be editing this late on a fucking Friday night. Everyone else with good sense had gotten everything else done before now. 

You slump down in a chair, drop your bag and take out your flash drive with the work you’d put in thus far, you plug it into the computer and cue it up.

And then you ended up waiting for half an hour for Jason to stroll in, far too casually considering how late he was. He took the chair next to you in front of the computer, setting down a bag of fast food, a soda before he shrugged his bag off his one shoulder and set it on the ground in front of the desk. He hadn’t said hello, he hadn’t even looked at you, arms crossed as you observed him in pure disbelief. 

He was getting his stuff set up, taking his video camera out of his bag, getting the cord to attach it to the computer you’d claimed, a notebook, a pencil, he was eating a few fries in between. Fuck, he is the actual worst, while he is still setting up you cut in and say finally, “Hello?”

He stops, a look over to you, expression showing he was totally fucking confused why you were greeting him in this way, or greeting him at all, he says, “Hey?” 

You laugh, eyes rolling as you lean back in your chair, “Are you fucking serious?”

“What? What did I do now? I just got here!” He sighed, turning back to his bag, and you tell him, “That is exactly the problem, Jason! You tell me, not ask, TELL me to show up here, no regard for my Friday night plans, and I don’t fight you on it! I show up, early, and you stroll in a half hour late with fucking McDonald's and not so much as an apology for being late! You are unbelievable.” 

He shakes his head as he sighs, “Jesus, you are sensitive-” 

“Jason!” You bite out, upset at the very idea you are sensitive for being upset at this, and he scoffs, “Fine, fucking sorry for being a little late-” He said it mockingly, it could turn your stomach. You wanted to fight him further, the idea that he was “a little late” was pissing you off, him acting as if he was just a touch behind schedule, but you didn’t want to be here all night. 

“Whatever, can we get started?” You asked, and he said, “Yeah, so long as you are done being a bitc-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Carvey.” 

He looked over at you and upon seeing how serious your expression combined with your downright venomous tone, he bit his tongue with a muttering of the word, “Fine.”

Thank the Lord, he was dropping it. Maybe now you can get some actual work done-

“Why are you wearing that?” He was staring at you, brow creased in question. You looked down at yourself, heeled boots, short skirt, low cut top and made up, you’d planned to go to a party with friends and due to his fucking shitty timing you didn’t have the chance to change. 

Your eyes draw back up and meet his as you inform him, “I was planning to go out tonight until someone texted me to come do the work I’ve been begging to do for weeks, and I figured I better jump at the chance cuz who knows when I’ll get it again.” 

He smiled, that stupid self-satisfied smile, he had his soda in one hand and a few fries in the other as he tells you, “Yeah, sorry about that, I’m a very in demand kinda guy.” 

“Yeah, I am so sure.” You sigh, and you lean forward, “Okay so here is what I have so far-” You click the space bar and let what you had gotten done solo play out. 

He, of course, hated it. 

Endless criticism with no real praise to be found, he was going on and on, spewing his usual bullshit, “This is a joke! Total amateur hour! Did you even follow the story board we drew up?”

“Yes, I fucking did! Look-” You hold up your sketchbook and go through the shot he was current critiquing and pointing out, “See?! These are all your stupid angles and notes, I fucking did it-”

“No way, if I handled it, it’d look much better-” You groan, a hand combing through your hair, dropping your sketchbook into your lap with your other hand, “You are impossible to work with Jason!”

“I’m not asking for much here! It isn’t difficult.” He insists, gesturing with his half empty soda, and you say with raised brows, “Taking a beloved rom com trailer and editing it to look like a horror film isn’t hard?”

He groans, and you swear he might just stamp his foot in indignation, “No! You just gotta do it with care! See the love interest is supposed to be the monster, the villain, he is a ravenous beast seeking to corrupt her, and you are not conveying that right!”

You don’t know why you ever agreed to this. You should have fought him harder on the genre.

“If it is so bad, why don’t you show me what you have so far?” You ask, and he says, “Gladly.” 

He pulls up what he has so far, and it isn’t much of anything, it’s a few disjointed shots, some cobbled together audio and music, and you say, “You’ve hardly done anything, and you are criticizing me?!”

“My vision is clearer than yours is thus far-” He defends, and you cut in, “What vision? I can barely see anything!”

He takes a deep breath to calm himself and instead of pushing further he offers,“It’ll take me like thirty minutes to get it together, just give me what you have so far, and I’ll fix it.” 

Your mouth gapes, jaw drops, “You want me to just let you do all of it? Trust you to do this solo? Fat fucking chance!” 

“We are gonna be here all night then.” He says firmly, and you sigh out, “Fucking fine, I guess so.” 

You both set to work in relative silence, you agreed to do the front end and him to finish it up, you and he steal glances at the others screens and more comments and barbs fly. You and he have this terrible habit of riling each other up, he just annoys you so much, it’s so hard to play nice and take the high road when he is like this.

“Really? You are using that as your transition-” You start, and he bites, “And what would you do? A fucking flash to black between shots bracketed by a sting of violin music?” 

You make a sound of pure disgust, “You think so fucking highly of me.” 

He spins in his wheelie office style chair and turns to look at you, he tells you, “Sweetheart, I don’t think of you in any way.” 

You spin in your chair to face him better, arms crossing over your chest, “Thank God for that, otherwise I might vomit, I’d hate to ruin the carpet in here.” 

Next you are up out of your chair, and you stretch your arms above your head, your eyes are closed, head back, so you miss the small detail of Jason’s eyebrows raising as the hem of your shirt does, enjoying the bit of skin you revealed with the action. Your arms come down and so does your gaze, his expression schools back into something more akin to hatred, and you say, “I’m going to the bathroom and gonna hit the vending machine.” 

“Yeah whatever.” He shrugs and turns away, you make your move to walk out and tell him, “Be right back.”

He was less than subtle this time around when checking you out, blatantly staring at your ass through the glass window of the editing bay, you weren’t going to call him on it. Walking down the hallway it made you laugh with a shake of your head, you were musing, “Mmmhm, he totally neverrr thinks about me.” 

You are still thinking about it while you are washing your hands, “Is this why Jason is such an asshole to me? Because he actually wants me? Shit, be more fucking cliche’.”

After leaving the bathroom and finding yourself in front of the vending machine, considering your options, maybe you were imagining things, maybe he wasn’t looking at you like that.

You put the money in and make your selection and watch the metal spiral spin and twist till the small bag of chips and the candy bar you selected fell. You fished them out and slid to the next one, keying in to get a can of something cold. Even if he was looking at you like that, who says you should do anything about it, maybe you could let ol’ Carvey suffer and stew. 

Once you were back in the room you open the can, you stride to your chair and sit yourself down, you are mid-sip and putting the food on the desk with your other hand. The way you sat made your skirt rise up a tad, your legs cross, the can comes down and your opposite and free hand smoothed the material down over the curve of your thigh and that is when you notice it, he’s looking again. 

Oh, he did want you. This was no wandering of a wild imagination, Jason actually was “taking in the sights”. You wanted to laugh until you realized something crucial. You’d swapped seats, you took the empty one without thinking, but this was his old chair, the crumpled McDonald's bag is what made it click. He was seated in yours now, meaning that he was editing your shit. You look over to the screen where his attention was fixed once more, and you see him doing some serious damage, you slam the can down and stand up, hand pushing on his shoulder as you exclaim, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

He half turns in the chair, the violent jerking of his body from the force of you putting your hands on him, his own hands up and away from the keyboard, he looked shocked you touched him in such a way, so sudden and violent, “What?!”

You point at the screen as you ask much too loudly, “Why are you in my chair and what the fuck are you doing?!”

“I didn’t know if you were actually coming back, thought I should help you out since you so clearly need it.” He spits, and you scoff, “My bag is still here Jason, like I’d leave my shit in the editing bay alone all night with you, it’s bad enough I have to be here.” 

“Again, you could let me handle it and you could go. I want to go a more found footage angle than you do anyway-” You suck your teeth indignantly, “You actually like that found footage shit? And how are you gonna make this look like that? Tilt shift it in after effect and slap some fucking filters on it?” 

He leaned in closer as he spoke to you in a harsh tone, “What did you say before? Accusations of me thinking highly of you? Why don’t you flip that mirror back around to look at yourself.” 

He was still looking at you in that annoying way that told you he was checking you out, and so you say, “No, I don’t think I’ll do that, I think you are looking at me enough for the both of us.” 

The word was almost coughed out, “What?”

And the word of the day is. You stare him down as you say, “I see you fucking staring at me, you son of a bitch. I’m not as stupid as you treat me.” 

“Are you sure about that? Because right now it sounds like you are delusional and convinced I want to fuck you.” He laughs but there is no bite behind it, he is trying and failing to cover himself up, he is struggling to meet your gaze. 

“I don’t think I am that delusional.” You state simply, and he questions, “Oh no?”

“No. In fact, I am sure you want to fuck me so badly that I could ride you right here, and you’d more than let me, I think you’d love it.” 

You decide not to let him get any more chances to argue, you reach down, fingers slip up your skirt, thumbs hook in your underwear, and you drag them down, stepping one leg out you said, “Get your stupid jeans open, right now.” 

His expression is confused, eyes are wide, but his hands scramble, belt open and undone, pants unzipped he is shuffling them down his thighs before sitting back down, now you take in the sights, and he isn’t a bad size, this could work. You certainly aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of complimenting him, he speaks up, half cocky smile, with a hand around the base of his shaft, “You like it?”

You swing one leg over and sit in his lap as you sigh, “It’s passable, I suppose it’ll have to do.” 

He frowns at that, and you grind yourself against him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Fingers curl in the material of the college branded shirt he wore, and you rolled your hips, dragging yourself against him, causing the head of his dick to bump over your clit making both you, and he shared a sharp inhale. You already hated this simply because that one simple move felt far better than it should, it pissed you off. You tested it again, you repeated the action, and it was better than the first pass, another proved to increase the feeling and so it goes and that just serves to fuel the fire of both rage and lust inside of you. 

“What the fuck-” You breathe out, head tipping back, hips rolling, and he ruts up into you, providing extra friction and asking, “What? What are you going on about now?” 

“This-” You grind again and let a breathy moan slip out, and he then moves again, matching you move for move, and you grit out, “-it’s too fucking good, it shouldn’t feel this fucking good, and it’s-”

You moan louder, “-it’s pissing me the fuck off.” 

It's honest and raw and vulnerable and, above all else, very fucking true. His hands are on you, one on your hip to help control pace and another on your back, under your shirt, fingers on bare skin as he ruts up into you as he stares up, meets your gaze as he says, “Take it out on me.” 

Now it was your turn to use the word of the day, “What?”

He moves slower this time, more purposeful, it makes you choke back a moan, and he reiterates himself, “Take your anger out on me then.” 

You think that is the first smart thing he has ever said. 

Enough is enough, and you figure that you should take him up on his offer, you raise yourself up, hand comes down behind you, fingers lock onto him and position him just so, you angle your hips, and then you do the most natural thing possible at that moment, you sit down, sliding him deep inside in the process. 

Your hands move, one remains on his shoulder and the other slides into his slightly too long black hair and threads, you pull as you soak in the feeling of him stretching your walls, a deep sigh leaves you, satisfied in some regard simply from being filled. You revel for a moment until he shifts below you, eyes flick down, and he is staring up at you still, brows pinched together as he insists, “Move already.”

You scoff and tug harder on his hair, force his head back as you tell him, “Shut up.” 

“That hurts-” He groused, and you roll your eyes as you start to move, heeled boots on shitty carpet you start to ride him, asking in a breathy but ultimately teasing tone, as if the question was rhetorical, “Better?” 

The shaky moan he let out, while incoherent, told you very much so yes. 

You start to find your rhythm with riding him, enjoying yourself, angling your hips to grind your clit and that sweet spot inside to get what you wanted out of this sooner rather than later. As his eyes slip closed, and he lets you do what you wanted, allows you to take your anger out on him, you have the thought that like this? When he isn’t running his mouth and when he is letting you ride him as if it is the only thing he was ever good for, he’s actually pretty attractive. Even if he could stand for a haircut. 

You wouldn’t tell him that though, again, why give him the satisfaction, especially when you are so concerned about your own pleasure. 

Mean jabs and hurtful words left you now, just laboured breathing and moaning as you rode him, intent on seeing to your own end, and he was doing a lot to ensure it actually, moving with you, rocking up into you, seeing to your satisfaction and enjoyment in a way you’d almost call uncharacteristic of him. After two seconds of thought, though, it’s obvious he was getting just as much out of this. 

The build of it isn’t quick per se, but it’s steady, one of those orgasms that builds in almost a steady arc, not really any valleys, just a consistent climb, up and up, until your pace becomes a bit uneven, thighs shaking, breath stuttering until it culminates and you cum. Your fingers are still in his hair, but there isn’t any serious tension there, no longer holding taut, grinding down onto him, shallow, fast thrusts of him in and out halfway as you ride out your bliss with a quiet and singular, “Yes.” on your tongue. 

You squeeze all you can out of your orgasm before you slow to a stop. Your eyes open, and you huff out a, “Fuck, I needed that.” 

And next? You get up. You stand, slip him out and swing your leg back over, getting off of him and breaking away. 

You are reaching down, going to fix your underwear and slide it back up, and he asks, “Uh, what are you doing?”

Eyes flick to him, a confused look on his face and his dick still out, painfully hard and soaked from you, “Well we still have a project to finish, I was gonna get back to work and then hopefully go back to my dorm to crash.” 

“What about me?” He asked, and you respond with a smile, a slight cock of your head, “What about you Jason?”

Your eyes drop, you are pulling your underwear back up when you feel it. His hand locked on your bicep and then him yanking on you, pulling you over to the desk, and then he pushes you down, hands finds your hips, and he moves you to his liking. One is on the back of your thigh and pushing your leg up, knee finds purchase on hardwood, and he is leaning down, his chest to your back, you feel his hair on the back of your neck, lips brush by your ear, “Yeah you are not gonna leave me with blue balls sorry.” 

He is slipping back inside, and you arch back into him, a shared moan spills forth, “You took your anger out on me, so now I’m going to do the same.” 

Second-best idea he’s had all night. Well you thought that until later on he was going down on you post fuck, making you cum on his tongue until you were almost sobbing, but that is something else entirely. 

You ended up staying in the editing bay all night but by the end of it you had the project done and, reluctantly, a new fuck buddy. At least Jason Carvey turned out to be good for something. 

#Jason Carvey x reader #Ghostface x reader #Scream 6 x reader #SFBS #Blood Fest #BHF writing #ENJOY #ANOTHER GHOSTFACE

[seraphofthesimps]

A/N: You know when they make too many movies in a series and suddenly the whole thing is shit? That’s what is happening here 🤣 This was definitely just an excuse to make a cool banner and indulge my mask kink. 

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4 | Season 5 | Season 6

Season One Starring:

Manjiro Sano aka Mikey, Everyone’s Favorite killer 

IRL Ghostface Costume: this dude wears his costume anywhere like it’s normal. Leaves you wondering if he even knows he’s wearing it half the time. This picture is him because he’s hands down making you eat INSIDE at some fast food restaurant like this. Normally masks wouldn’t be allowed in an establishment like that for safety reasons but he’s so charismatic he basically flirts his way into being allowed. His friends take this as their opportunity to also abuse the system a little and throw fries in each others mouths from across the table. They’re the loudest table in the place but Mikey is the quietest of the rowdy bunch.

In a horror movie: the charismatic, almost too perfect, killer. Enraged by the senseless murders of his loved ones, he spends his free time secretly seeking his vengeance - kinda like now but with more murder and less kids meals.

His Scream Quote: "Oh, poor Takemichi. You think this is all about you? You think you're still the star?"

Ken Ryuguji aka Draken, the "Almost Valid Except You're Committing Murder" killer

IRL Ghostface Costume: He’s that guy that creeps you out AND makes you laugh because of how serious he takes his costume. Successfully scares most of the party, whether it be from a jump scare, or by just always being in the right place at the right time. It was unintentional at first but now he’s thriving. Asks one of his friends to get him a drink and they don’t so he calls them from the across the room. When they answer he ask them if they like scary movies and they tell him to stop playing, but when draken stands up they’re running to the kitchen. He’s just too good at this.

In a horror movie: He’s the best friend of the Mac you don’t suspect. He's super serious in his mission, would do anything to succeed. Kills for the sake of others, or at least that’s what he tells himself. His cause is just so it’s hard not to sympathize for him but bruh thats murder. We all love him but only when the story is fiction. 

His Scream Quote: “You should never say ‘who's there?’ Don't you watch scary movies? It's a death wish. You might as well come out here to investigate a strange noise or something.

Takemichi Hanagaki, the “Knock-Off” killer

IRL Ghostface Costume: Remember that episode after Draken was saved when he wore that Douchebag outfit and was walking on cloud nine? If you do, then you should not be surprised he’s the one under this mask. Same energy. Legit believes he’s cool running around the party like this yelling “wassssssup” every time he enters a room. He’s having the time of his laugh entertaining himself. Someone shows up as the real Ghostface costume and he tries to turn them into some dynamic duo. The other Ghostface is not amused.

In a horror movie: He’s not the killer. He’s the comic relief. Somehow chooses the same costume as the killer - but again the Party City version that just looks goofy instead of scary - and accidentally confuses everyone. Results in a few collateral damage murders, possibly even gets himself killed, once the real killer begins making his move. 30% chance he might save the day at last possible minute, a few bodies too late.

His Scream Quote: "Well, if you're watching this tape, it means as I feared. I did not survive these killings here at Windsor College. And that giving up my virginity to Karen Kolchec at the video store was probably not a good idea."

Hinata, the “Overbearing but Supportive Girlfriend” killer

IRL Ghostface costume: Only where’s the mask and thinks it makes a unique costume. Takes pictures with phones for social media half the night. You weren’t even at the same party as her but from the amount of posts she made, you’re feel like you were with her. Can be seen being “one of the guys” or hanging out with their girlfriends, only.

In a horror movie: Starts off innocent, but ends up swinging the narrative to her killer boyfriend’s benefit by constantly meddling in his plans. Gets addicted to the thrill and when her boyfriend starts to cave, she tries to finish the job. She’s vicious. This is a killer you want to avoid, you know more than normal.

Scream Quote: "What's the point? They're all the same. Some stupid killer stalking some big-breasted girl who can't act who is always running up the stairs when she should be running out the front door. It's insulting."

Emma, the “Collateral Damage” killer

IRL Ghostface Costume: the effortlessly cool one were all jealous of. The pictures she posts on social media are quirky and everyone loves them. Her pictures are the ones that float all across Pinterest and end up getting used in posts like these.

In a horror movie: She never meant to become evil, but love has a hold on her. She wore her emotions on her sleeve and know she’s on a rampage. She kills to protect him and to keep him hers. Saves her boyfriend for last hoping he will see all that she has done for him and join her. Mid confession he says something to piss her off and she offs him while screaming through tears. Gets caught in the end and doesn’t care, she’s numb now.

Her Scream Quote: "You just won't die, will you? Who are you? Michael fucking Myers?"

#tokyo revengers #manjiro sano #ken ryuguji #emma sano

[just-random-imagines]

Don’t Scream

IMAGINE: The original Ghostface killers have focused on their new target, you. Their plans change, however, when someone else threatens your life. After that night, nothing will ever be the same for you. Set in modern times! WORD COUNT:  3.4k  WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & gore, shitty ending.

“Darcy, how do you expect Lizzie to accept your proposal if you keep insulting her by bringing up the differences between your classes?” You shout at the tv screen.  

Here you were, alone in your house on a Friday night, watching Pride and Prejudice. Fun, huh?  

“Matthew, don’t pout like that!” You tell the actor on screen. “You knew this was coming, don’t act like an idiot!”  

But how could you stay angry at Matthew for so long? He was only playing his part.  

As the scene moves on, you suddenly find yourself distracted by a sudden noise. Thinking it might’ve been your parents, you tentatively call out for them. “Mom? Dad? You guys back already?”  

When nothing else happens, you shrug your shoulders and shut everything down. It was getting late anyway, and you just wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.  

Just as you finally cleaned up the mess you had made, you were taken aback when the house phone rang. Against your better judgment, you picked up the phone without even looking at the ID on the dim screen.  

“Hello, (Last Name) residence,” you utter into the speaker, attempting to seem more awake than you were.  

“Hello there,” a voice on the other line drawled.  

“Hi,” you reply, scrunching your forehead in confusion. This voice didn’t seem to register in your half-asleep mind as you tried to figure out who it was. 

“Who’s this?” You ask politely.  

“No one,” the voice answered. “I must have called the wrong number.”  

Stifling a laugh, you feel yourself shake your head. “Oh, I hate it when that happens,” you say honestly. “Lemme guess you accidentally butt-dialed me?”  

“No,” the voice chuckled, the smooth tone of it convincing you it was a man on the other side of the line. “I was just-”  

You quickly tuned out the man when you heard another noise, slightly louder than the one you heard before. As you try to figure out what it was, you quickly remember your unseen guest.  

“-hat noise?”  

“What?” You whisper into the phone.  

“What was that noise I heard?” The man asked.  

“I’m not-” You stick your head around the corner and quickly clamp a hand over your mouth.  

A duo of men was standing in front of your open door. They had broken a nearby window from the outside and the door looked like someone had kicked it open.  

Seeing as the men had not noticed you yet, you quickly slip back into the living room and search for a hiding spot. A few whimpers escaped your throat, just soft enough for the intruders to dismiss but loud enough for the phone’s microphone to pick up.  

“What’s going on?!” The voice demanded.  

“There are men… In my house,” you hiss, trying not to catch unwanted attention.  

Silence was all you heard. You were afraid they had cut the phone line when the man came back, his voice sounding harsh and cold.  

“Find somewhere to hide and stay there,” he commanded stiffly. Your body suddenly hesitated, and for good reason.  

You didn’t even know whoever was on the other side of the line, and yet they were here, helping keep you alive. But you quickly snapped out of your trance as you heeded his words. Fear was eating you alive as you struggled to not lose it.  

If you weren’t so panic-stricken, you might’ve hung up the phone and called the police!  

Pressing the phone to your chest, you sneakily made your way past the burglars as they ransacked your home. You thought your heart would just burst out of your chest as you crept into your bedroom. With shaky hands, you locked the door.  

“What now?” You whisper into the phone, terrified that one of your guests might hear you.  

“Get in the closet and stay there,” the man ordered.  

“I-I…. I c-can’t,” you stutter quietly, finding yourself rooted to the floor. You couldn’t move, no matter how much you wanted to.  

“DO IT NOW!” The voice snarled, scaring you out of your wits.  

Suddenly frightened at the anger in his voice, you toss the phone away. The fear grew stronger as the device smacked into the wall. The sheer force of it had created a sharp ‘smack’ that rattled you to the core.  

Sending out a silent plea that you hadn’t been heard, you hold in a shriek as you hear the men from before start talking to one another.  

“Did you hear that, Antoine?” One of them questioned, his voice hoarse and in desperate need of a glass of water.  

“Yes, I did. It seems we’re not the only ones here,” came a dark reply, the voice rougher than the sharpest piece of sandpaper.  

You could feel the air harshly leave your body as you struggled to gain a proper breath.  

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to-  

Your panicked thoughts were quickly interrupted as you heard the front door slam against the wall. You heard the men shout in alarm as they focused on their new distraction.  

The sounds of blood-curdling wails filled your ears as you listened to the men grunt and shout as they fought.  

But what was there to fight? Besides the intruders, you were the only one in the house. Surely, they weren’t stupid enough to turn on each other.  

“Get away from him!” Said the second man as a series of crashes echoed through the hall. He let out a cry as he too was attacked.  

A mangled sob escaped your lips as you listened to the men scream and scream until their pitiful wails suddenly cut off rather quickly.  

Tears ran down your face, creating a steady stream that cascaded down your chin like heavy rain. As they fell to the floor, you realized that the third party made himself known as heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway causing a ruckus.  

The fear in your chest grew as you realized they were heading towards your room.  

Snapping out your immobile state, you rushed to your open closet and hid inside, quietly closing the doors. Almost immediately, you heard someone banging on your bedroom door as they struggled to open it. A series of low grunts reached your ears as you heard someone throwing themselves against the weakening slab of wood.  

Definitely going to die. Going to die right now. I will never tell (Favorite Actor) that I love them. I-

You stopped your internal rambling once you realized that you no longer heard that awful banging. You couldn’t help but hope that whoever was on the other side of the door left and wouldn’t return.  

What luck you had.  

You screamed out into your hand as the door slammed open, falling onto your hardwood floors with another harsh bang. With both hands cupping your mouth now, you tried to control your breathing that came out in short, uneven puffs that resembled a panting bear.  

You listened carefully as you looked under the small gap under the closet to watch a dark shadow pace around your room. You heard them shuffle around as they ransacked the area.  

The surrounding air grew thick as the shadow suddenly froze. Within seconds, the closet door flew open to reveal your unknown attacker.  

A tall figure wearing a Father Death costume glared down at you from above. The mask was splattered with a dark crimson fluid that trailed down the face like murky tears. He carried a hunting dagger coated in the same substance by his side and held it menacingly.  

You couldn’t help but stare at the knife as blood dripped to the floor almost hypnotically. The killer noticed you staring and tilted his head to the side as he looked you over.  

Guessing that he was planning on how to kill you, you asked for a last request before your time was over.  

“Please,” you tell the killer, unable to get your voice louder than a whisper. “Just make it quick.”  

You looked away from the messenger of death as he raised the blade. This was it. Your life was over and you’d never taste another (Favorite Snack) again.  

It surprised you when you felt nothing. Not the swing of a knife cutting through your flesh. The pain of having blood filling your throat. Not even the warmth leaving your body as you died.  

With stiff movements, you slowly open your eyes, only to see the masked figure offering a gloved hand. Seeing that you were wary, the man twitched his fingers, repeating his silent request.  

“Just take it,” he finally spat.  

Recognizing that smooth tone to be the same one from the call, you finally grasp his hand. The second you closed your fingers around his covered palm, he hoisted you to your feet. Once you had your feet firmly planted on the ground, you realized the killer hadn’t let go of you.  

The stillness in the room reminded you of what had happened only minutes ago. Just recalling the horrible screams made your skin crawl as you looked at the masked man.  

“What happened to those men?” You ask meekly.  

When he doesn’t answer, you look at the blade in his other hand. The killer followed your gaze and quickly pocketed the knife.  

“I have dealt with them,” was the reply you received. Without another word, the man dragged you out of your bedroom.  

“Stop!” You shout at him, immediately tugging at your wrist.  

This guy slaughtered two burglars in such a way that made your stomach twist and recoil in ways it shouldn’t. There was no way in hell that you would go with this man willingly.  

“Stop struggling,” the man spat out, squeezing your arm painfully as he led you to the front door. You passed the bodies as you did so, and it only made your fear increase tenfold.  

“Please,” you cried out softly, catching the man’s attention.  

He turned around to face you; his covered eyes boring into your own as he waited for you to speak. Your mouth suddenly became dry as you struggled to talk.  

“Don’t prolong the inevitable. Just kill me and get it over with. I know that’s what you’re going to do, anyway.”  

The man observed you as you eyed his frozen figure as if he were a predator ready to pounce on his prey. And you were the cute fuzzy bunny the big bad wolf wanted for dinner.  

“I will not kill you,” the man told you stiffly. “I’m here to... Help.”  

"Help?" You repeated. "But why-"  

"Don't ask questions!" The man snarled. “Don’t make me regret this.”  

Shutting your mouth, you let the man drag you onto your front lawn with no more complaints. It doesn’t stop you from dragging your feet just the tiniest bit. This didn’t go unnoticed by your rescuer.  

“Would you stop?!” He practically growled at you. With his free hand, he whipped out his knife he had planned on leaving out of this. “Don’t fight me!”

His words only spurred you to struggle more. This was part of his plan somehow. He would get you to lower your guard, and when you least expected it? He’d rip you apart, just like he did those burglars.  

When you refused to listen to him, he let out an angry grunt before bashing the butt of the knife on the back of your head. The sheer force of it sent you tumbling down like JENGA® blocks.  

“Son of a-”  

It seemed so fuzzy to you. You could register the mask hovering over your face, the steady droning sound in your ears, pale moonlight glimmering on his knife. Then it disappeared out of your line of sight.  

If you could think clearly, you would have worried where it was going. Instead, you could only whine softly, slowly blinking as you waited for something to happen.  

“They’ll find you here,” you heard him mumble to himself, his voice sounding as if he were underwater. “You’ll be ok.”  

What the hell is he talking about?  

You stared at the midnight sky behind his head, your mind refusing to focus on anything. The buzzing grew louder, forcing you to shut your eyes. It drowned everything out, leaving you with your rambling thoughts.  

For a moment you could think before you felt yourself slip away. The sudden fear overwhelmed you, reminding you of what was happening in the actual world.  

Please don’t let me die, not like this.

-  

You didn’t remember much after that.  

The next time you opened your eyes, you had been in the hospital, attempting to focus on a doctor. With the help of a nurse, they explained you had been attacked. Luckily, someone had tipped off the authorities who rescued you in time before anything else happened.  

The interrogation with the cops was a blur. They spun some story about 3 intruders being breaking into your house, with the third one turning his back on his partners and sparing you from his rage.  

One officer offered this as being connected to the other murders, but they had shot it down. While they had found records of someone calling the house before the killings, nothing else had fit the profile. They figured the mutilation only occurred because of an unknown argument between the intruders.  

They tried pushing you into remembering what happened, but you couldn’t. All you could focus on was the fear you felt at the moment, sending you in tears each time.  

It took you a few days after getting released from the hospital, but you finally convinced your parents to let you return to school. You were just so tired of being afraid; you wanted to return to some normalcy.  

It was a rocky start. The second you stepped on school grounds, all eyes were on you. You could hear the whispers as you walked by, everyone trying to figure out how you lived. Keeping your head high, you blocked all of it out, intent on putting that behind you.  

Unbeknownst to you, you failed to notice two boys during the newfound attention, the two of them sharing unnerving grins as their eyes followed your every move.  

-  

You couldn’t stop the cry that escaped your throat as you shut your locker, coming face to face with a guy you recognized from your history class. “Fuck!” You practically shouted in his face.  

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his Cheshire grin implying he was anything but sorry.  

“It's ok,” you replied, shaking it off. No one says anything at that point, leaving him staring while you shuffled nervously.  

“You’re uh... You’re Stu, right?” You asked suddenly. “I sit behind you in history. You’re funny.”  

You couldn’t help but laugh as he gave a mock bow. “That’s me, at your service!” Stu glanced around the hallway, frowning when he saw teenagers scattered about. “You got anyone to sit with?” He asked.  

You shook your head sadly. Your friends didn’t have the same lunch period as you, leaving you munching on your food alone often.  

“That won’t do,” Stu complained as he held out his hand. He managed a reassuring smile when you seemed hesitant to take it. “I won’t bite, my friend and I could use the company, anyway. Let’s go.” By the time you had reached the courtyard fountain, Stu practically had you in tears from how hard you were laughing.  

You noticed his friend was another guy you recognized class, Billy; you think his name was.  

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled, noticing the way you two were struggling to breathe.  

“Listen to this,” Stu struggled to say. “The other day, my sister asked me to pass her lipstick, but I accidentally passed her a glue stick. She still isn't talking to me.”

The boy chuckled. “That would be funny, except you don’t have a sister Stu.”  

Stu rolled his eyes, gently sitting you down between the two of them. Billy spares you a glance before holding out a bag of chips. When you just stared at it, he rolled his eyes.  

“Do you want one or not?” He finally asked. You a shy nod, thanking him when you took a chip.  

“So...” You drawled out, tired of the silence that had fallen on the three of you. That, and you were desperate to know why they were so interested in you suddenly. Both of them look surprised when you voiced your concerns.  

“After what happened,” Billy began, “you looked like you just needed a friend.”  

“Yeah!” Stu added. “You laugh at my jokes, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes too!”  

-  

Billy couldn’t help but think about the knife hidden in his backpack as you squirmed in your spot. Stu couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked in those pants.  

It had been Stu’s idea to make you Ghostface’s next target. The two had seen you around the school; no one would suspect them if you were killed. You were barely a blip on their radar, publicly at least.

Billy was the one on the phone with you that night, putting on the facade he had contacted the wrong house. It had been going fine until Stu reported that someone was at the front door. He had been posted at the side, waiting for his partner’s word to break into the window.

The two hadn’t counted on their unexpected company to ruin their plans. You were theirs to kill; they would not let two low-life burglars take the money shot.

Stu was the one who ran inside, killing the men with no mercy to spare. He had been the one to sneak into your bedroom, fully prepared to finish you as planned. Billy warned him you had hidden in the closet, the perfect place for an easy target.

There had been something about the way you looked at Stu, your (Eye Color) eyes practically boring into his own. Then, instead of pleading with him to spare your life, you had asked that he kill you quickly. Not a single one of his victims had done that.

Somewhere in his sick, twisted little mind, he couldn’t find it in him to murder you.

It pissed Billy off when Stu returned, admitting that he didn’t finish the job. He had almost gone back to do it himself when Stu wrestled him back.

“They’re different!” The taller one shouted in his ear, attempting to keep the argument as quiet as he could. They were killers in public. “We already got in some kills; the police will never think it was us! And Y/N will never know either!”

It was pure luck that Billy agreed to his partner’s demands. It was the same luck that later spared your life; when it came out that you couldn’t remember the night of the attack, Billy let you live. To ensure that you wouldn’t squeal to the authorities if the memories ever came back, the boys came to the idea that they needed to insert themselves into your life.

“You guys are nice,” you admitted. “But you wouldn’t hurt me, right? I don’t want to get my feelings hurt.”

It wouldn’t just be your feelings getting hurt! Stu thought maniacally.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” Billy assured you, his thoughts straying away from his weapon.

For the moment Billy believed his own words. He could pretend that he and his best friend never tried killing you, befriending you on the idea that maybe you were a good person to be friends with. He wouldn’t have to worry about you discovering that they had plotted to kill you for their demented pleasure.

If things went right in this friendship, you would never have to discover their dark secret.

#Stu Macher x Reader #Stu Macher Imagine #Billy Loomis x Reader #Billy Loomis Imagine #Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis #Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher #Ghostface x Reader #Ghostface Imagine #Slasher Imagine #Slasher x Reader #Slashers x Reader #poly!ghostface x reader #poly Ghostface x reader

[slasherscream]

I just found your blog and I love it! I saw your chill!Latina!reader x Poly! ghostface and I raise you a Latina!reader with absolutely no chill? Like someone says something even remotely insulting towards them or the boys and they're immediately cursing them out in Spanish and English.

the duality.... of latina adjkl- 

Woodsboro.... straight up wasn’t ready for you. 

It is important, in the cut throat land of high school, to immediately establish oneself as someone to not be messed with. This is especially crucial if you are entering a new high school in the middle of senior year. 

This would be a big yikes for absolutely anyone. But you? You waltz into the school with your head held high, you make eye contact with everyone and walk like if someone is in your way you will simply run them over and not pause to check if your shoes left marks on their back. 

The boys hear about you but they don’t seek you out or anything. They’re curious, of course, but it’s not that huge of a school and they know that they’ll run into you sooner or later. 

They have a few classes with you but you keep your mandatory “class introduction” short and sweet like no one has a #Right to know anything about you. Billy respects that he knows nothing about you besides the fact that you clench your jaw when you’re annoyed. 

It’s about a week in when someone finally decides to test you. 

One of the more popular girls in school is getting a little jealous that you’re all anyone can talk about. Wanting to knock you down a peg she tries to trip you at lunch in the hopes that you’ll make a mess of yourself. 

You wind up spilling your food but manage to not fall on the floor. Everyone watches with baited breath for your reaction. They expect you to run off crying in embarrassment, instead you whirl around on the girl like the devil. By the end of you absolutely reading her for filth she’s the one who leaves the cafeteria in tears. You get another tray of food, find a table, and eat in peace.

At that point you have the whole school’s attention. But who cares about everyone. The important thing is you caught the attention of the dangerous duo. 

Stu is the one who approaches you first as the people person. 

They’re not sure about what they want to do with you honestly. That little display of fire was.... intriguing. You have final girl archetype written all over you. The people they kill so rarely put up a fight it can almost get boring. But before they finalize any plans they want to know you. The wait makes the kill all the sweeter.

It takes you quite awhile to warm up to Stu. Frankly you’re just trying to do your time and then get the hell out of dodge. You go to school, deal with your insufferable classmates and teachers, and go home to unwind. But Stu is nothing if not persistent. 

He’s everywhere you turn and eventually his presence just becomes a non-factor. You’ll be digging through your locker for your books, sense someone looming over you from behind and just say, “Hi Stu” - because that’s how on your jock he is. 

You wouldn’t call yourself friends exactly but you’re comfortable with him.

One day you happen to be looking for a movie at the local video store. You notice that Stu is in there talking to another boy but don’t take much note until your perusing of movie options brings you close enough to hear their conversation. 

You don’t hear the asshole thing Stu said that prompted Randy to insult Stu’s intelligence rather harshly       all you see is Stu’s face falling ever so slightly before he masks it behind a mischievous grin. You step in front of Stu instantly on the defense, “Who do you think you’re calling stupid with a face like that? ¡Vete a la mierda! Beat it, gringo.” and poor Randy runs off wondering how he became the bad guy during a run in with Stu of all people but whatever he knows when he’s in danger and makes himself scarce. 

Stu is #Shook because first off he rarely needs to be defended, he can handle himself, and second of all just... no one has ever really jumped in when people are mocking him (even though he admittedly deserves it sometimes) and believe it or not people thinking he’s stupid is a sore subject for him even though he acts like he’s the popular class clown that could care less. 

Now he has heart eyes for you and you really can’t get rid of him. 

When Stu comes running to Billy talking about they just can’t kill you is when Billy has to step in and see what’s so special about you that you’re suddenly above being their latest victim. 

After a few group hangouts he starts to get it. 

You’re vibrant, and passionate, and have so much fire in you that sometimes it can’t help but come out in bursts of you not being able to take a single ounce of bullshit and they’re in love. 

Billy flirts with you by pissing you off, full warning. He loves watching you get riled up and really loves the way you look at him before you’re about to let him HAVE IT. He’s never really been around a girl who doesn’t just melt for him. He likes that he’ll poke at you and you’ll poke right on back, never backing down. 

Stu just follows you around like a loyal puppy dog. He likes to annoy you a little here and there but not in the same way that Billy does. Billy likes to challenge you and see how far he can go, always testing his limit. Stu just likes to annoy you because then he has your undivided attention. He’s a kindergartner pulling on his crush’s pigtails.

Honestly you’re probably all going to be just friends for awhile until Stu finally convinces you to come to one of his parties where you will promptly be hit on and before you can rip the guy to shreds ENTER PLAYER ONE aka Billy Loomis who looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel as he grabs the guy and asks him what the hell he thinks he’s doing talking to you. 

Once he gets rid of the guy you ask him who does he think he is running off guys for you and he’ll just snap and kiss you because the sexual tension has been there for like two months now and he can’t take it anymore. 

You guys are full on making out when Stu tracks you both down and you instantly pull away because Oh God You Also Care About Stu This Is A Nightmare but before you can panic Stu has pushed himself into your side and asked in the huskiest voice if there’s room for one more so there’s.....that. 

Everyone is so mad that you managed to snag the two hottest guys in school but they don’t dare say anything because....well, you’re you and no one wants to have their ass verbally handed to them. 

Every single one of your tirades is legendary. Do people respect you or do they fear you? Doesn’t matter because the end result is people leave you all alone about your relationship. 

Both the boys think it’s hilarious that people are so scared of you when they’re the coldblooded killers. 

You and Billy get into a lot of small spats because you both have tempers and don’t like to apologize because that’s admitting you were wrong and you’re both always sure that the other one is in the wrong and you are the long suffering tolerant partner. Stu is constantly cooling the both of you down until you can admit you both let things get out of hand. You’re both very clingy whenever you come out of these little fights. You missed each other while you were being stubborn :(((

The first time they tried to sneak into your room through your window you nearly killed them because you started hurling the heaviest shit you could find and they both almost fell like...two stories. Stu got his nose lightly bruised (not even broken!!!) and whined about it for weeks. You argued that they could’ve given you a damn warning before they tried to pull a Romeo and Juliet on you. 

High-key Billy wonders if you might one day be their third ghostface. He imagines you taunting and snapping at victims with that razor sharp tongue over the phone before the three of you close in on them like the prey they are and slaughter them. He wonders if you’d be as vicious with a knife as you can be with your words.

They’re working up the nerve to tell you about their little....hobby. They know your initial reaction is bound to be intense so they’ve already braced themselves for that they’re just not sure what will happen after. The thought of losing you because you can’t wrap your head around what they’re doing scares the shit out of them but they also know the longer they don’t tell you the more upset you’ll be, you demand 100% transparency from them because you can’t tolerate bullshit.

For now they relish the dynamic you all have together and tell themselves that no matter what your first reaction is they’ll just remind you of how much you all need each other. You’re their perfect fit and you always will be, they’re sure of that.

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #latina!reader #this took FOREVER my love and for that i am SORRY #morning-star-57

[awesomelyanxiouspanda]

I'm a Murderer, Not a Monster (Billy Loomis/OFC/Stu Macher) Part 1

This is a repost since I deleted my old Tumblr!

Summary: 

In this AU, Stu and Billy were never caught or killed. Their plan went off without a hitch, and once it was done, they hung up their knives. On the anniversary of Sidney’s death, they were forced to murder again to protect their cover; Tie up loose ends and save themselves from death row for good. Only problem is that the murders were spur of the moment and they have no alibi. On the fly, they choose a house at random and hope for the best. Which leads us up to now!

Author’s notes:

-I had a dream and it inspired this little thing. In this AU, Stu and Billy were never caught or killed. Their plan went off without a hitch, and once it was done, they hung up their knives. On the anniversary of Sidney’s death, they were forced to murder again to protect their cover; Tie up loose ends and save themselves from death row for good. Only problem is that the murders were spur of the moment and they have no alibi. On the fly, they choose a house at random and hope for the best. Which leads us up to now!

-AU takes place in a weird time convergence. Basically the timeline is made up and the worlds don’t matter.

-I’m a fool for bad boys who are soft just for a few specific people, so Billy and Stu will be a bit OOC here. If that’s not your cup of tea, this is your warning.

-Relevant facts: Billy and Stu are both 19-20ish now. Ginger the OFC is 24 and Poppy is 6.

-Ginger’s appearance is rather general but she is short and chubby because there is not enough plus-size character love in fics.

-I had to split this into two parts. This one is SFW, just cursing and mentions of murder. Part two will be NSFW smut!

~“I’m a murderer, not a monster. I don’t kill kids, and what life would a kid have without their mom, hmm?”~

Billy’s words played over and over in my head while I stood, trembling, at the kitchen counter with my hot coffee mug in hand as I sipped at the sweet caffeine for support. I had to put on a strong front. I know he said he wouldn’t kill us but that wasn’t very comforting when there were two serial killers sitting at the table with my daughter; All three eating pancakes like there wasn’t a care in the world.

“Thanks mama. I’m gonna go brush my teeth for school,” Poppy said, pushing out her chair as she collected her plate.

“Alright sweetie. Don’t forget to wash your face after,” I called to her.

She nodded in agreement as she trotted off, ponytail swinging joyfully behind her.

With her bountiful energy out of the room, I let my shoulders sag and swallowed hard. Fear and uncertainty were tearing up my stomach and making it hard to breathe.

“You can relax, doll. We’re not going to hurt you, and especially not her,” Stu commented, shoving the last bite of his pancakes in his mouth, “We’re not that kind of people.”

I cringed slightly at the way he spoke with his mouth full and gaping, but didn’t dare comment on it. Who would correct a murderer on his table manners?

“I know you said that but it’s just…. I’m terrified honestly. I don’t trust anyone in my home, around my kid, other than family and now there are two strange men staying here,” I explained quietly, keeping my tone as docile as possible.

Billy rose silently from his chair and immediately I tensed up as his dark eyes landed on me. He wasn’t insanely tall like his partner but he was beyond intimidating as he marched over and stood only a few inches from me. Even though he was shorter, he still towered over me and my five foot frame. It suddenly felt like there was a lump in my throat that I just couldn’t swallow past.

“We won’t be in your hair longer than we have to be. As long as you keep your end of the deal, everything will go smoothly. You have my word that we wouldn’t touch a hair on that kids’ head no matter what, but if you were to try to start some shit-”

“I would never!” I cut him off immediately, heart racing and pounding hard at the threat, “Self preservation is my strongest suit next to doing anything to protect her.”

“Good, then he’s right. You can relax. You have nothing to worry about,” Billy finished with a nod.

A little grin came to his face and he raised his hand. Instinctively I flinched but somehow managed not to jerk away entirely. He patted my cheek gently with a little click of his tongue before going back to the table.

“Say, Ginger, you got any scary movies here?” Stu chimed in.

…

A week had come and gone, and then a second until more than a month had gone by. After almost two months of Stu and Billy hanging out off and on in my home, it was as if they weren’t even that infamous killer I’d heard so much about on the news. If I hadn’t woken up to the two of them over my bed in the Ghostface masks with blood soaked cloaks and knives, I might have never believed that they were. They were both so… normal. Although Billy obviously had some brooding and anger issues, he seemed to just be a regular, albeit gorgeous, guy with a chip on his shoulder; And Stu was absolutely adorable, funny, kind, and endearing. Together they made a hilarious duo; Billy’s dry humor and sarcasm pairing perfectly with Stu’s overzealous comedy. I was starting to LIKE having them there; it was a scary though.

They were both also surprisingly respectful of our home, of Poppy and my general distrust of men around her; Ensuring they were never in another room alone with her, even if it was just the kitchen or living room. I appreciated their tact. It was becoming easier to make myself almost believe the cover story they had come up with about us meeting in a bar and them passing out in my house on the night of the murders.

I was still in wonder of just how they had ended up here though. We were about an hour away from Woodsboro and in a decent but not extravagant area. Why us? Why this house?

“What’s wrong, doll? You look down?”

My cheeks heated under the pet name and I quickly tried to push away the butterflies it gave me when mixed with the curious look on Stu’s face. There was no way I could begin to acknowledge my stupid little crush on him without it making me feel weird. Although I’d started to feel friendship or possibly more toward them, there’s was nothing to say that they were doing more than keeping up the pretenses of our deal and ensuring I wouldn’t rat them out. Not to mention, my self-esteem told me that two men who were so beautiful would never be interested in a woman of my size and appearance, much less since I was almost four years older than them.

“No, not down, just thinking,” I explained, passing the popcorn bowl over to him.

He cocked his head to the side in obvious curiosity while he swiped some popcorn from the bowl.

“About?” Billy asked from the recliner across the room.

I shrugged but chose to be honest. I’d learned honesty was certainly the best policy with them.

“Why you came to this town when your hometown is an hour away. Why you chose this place of all places.”

Apparently that threw them both for a loop, Stu’s eyes darting to Billy while the other let mild-surprise run across his face.

“Well, I guess it was just fate. I’m pretty sure anyone else would have fought us by now and we’d have had to kill them. Which would have screwed up the whole plan, of course,” Billy vaguely explained.

I felt my curiosity pique at the mention of a plan and I hesitantly asked, “What is your long term plan?”

“A fresh start. Get away from all that shit that started this whole thing and try to do more with our lives,” Billy replied, eyes drifting back to the movie on the TV.

“It wasn’t like we planned on killing forever. Hell, we made it out for a whole fucking year before someone jeopardized our freedom,” Stu added in, “Had to do what needed to be done to keep people looking away from us though.”

He was obviously waiting for some kind of reply but I wasn’t sure what to say. Instead I gave him a shrug as I mulled over my thoughts.

“I can’t say I agree with, or understand, killing anyone to begin with, obviously, but I wasn’t in your situation either. That said, I CAN understand wanting a fresh start. That’s why Poppy and I moved here too; Away from a past life I no longer wanted a part of,” I responded after a while.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asked.

I hesitantly met his powerful gaze before admitting, “I had to leave our old home for our safety. Let’s just say, there are worse things a person can do than end a life.”

The intensity in the room went up a level and I could almost feel both of them staring at my burning face, but I had already let out more than I wanted to. In this place, in my new world, no one knew of our past. They knew I was a single mom to a happy little girl, and that’s how I wanted to keep it. People’s opinions tended to change when they knew your dirty little secrets.

“Mama, are we still watching Rugrats tonight?” Poppy asked.

Her sudden appearance from the bedroom made me jolt and yelp in surprise. She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me, before clutching her tummy and letting out rolls of deep belly laughter.

“I scared you! I scared you! You scare so easy mommy!”

With a slight eyeroll of embarrassment, I waved away her hysterics before gesturing her over.

“Don’t make fun of me, butthead,” I teased, then added, “But yeah, as soon as Stu and Billy head out we’ll put on Rugrats.”

“Sounds like it’s time to skeedaddle, scoob,” Stu commented in a silly voice, “Gotta let the little princess get her movies in.”

Poppy grinned and nodded.

“Don’t forget, you promised to come back soon and play candyland with us,” Poppy reminded the two before climbing up onto the couch next to me.

“Yeah, yeah, pipsqueak,” Billy commented, unable to hide a little grin before he rose to his feet, “We’ll stop by again soon.”

I got up from the couch and walked them to the door out of habit, waiting until they were down the sidewalk before I shut and locked it.

“Okay, let the Rugrats extravaganza begin!” I cheered, scurrying back to the couch.

Poppy giggled and burrowed against my side eagerly as I flipped the TV over to the correct setting and pushed play. The familiar theme song blared from the TV speakers as the movie started and I settled back on the cushions more. Some parents wouldn’t admit it but I still enjoyed cartoons as much as I had when I was a kid. It was a nice bonding experience too, watching some of the shows I grew up on!

…

As the credits rolled, I shifted slightly and slowly lowered Poppy to the couch. She had fallen asleep about halfway through, as I had expected, but I wanted to finish up the movie anyway; It was one of my favorites!

Patting her shoulder gently, I set about picking up the remnants from the evening visit. Popcorn bowl, kernels, soda cans, and the like all barely fit into my arms so I rushed into the kitchen quickly as not to drop anything and let it down on the counter, sorting rubbish from dishes.

I had just got the sink water started to wash the dinner dishes when there was a loud crash from the garage.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

I cut the water and dried my hands before shuffling closer to the garage door. Once I was almost a foot away, I heard hushed hisses and curses.

“Oh my god!”

As fast as I could, I flipped the deadbolt and door lock, only to be greeted to the sound of something slamming against the door.

“Oooohhhh ladies! I know you’re in theeerrreee,” a male voice sung teasingly, “Just wait ‘til I get you, you fucking bitch!”

Another slam against the door had me finally moving, eyes watering and chest burning as I held in a panicked scream. Without words I snagged Poppy and my phone up from the couch and sped into my room.

“Mommy?” Poppy groaned sleepily.

“Shh baby. I need you to stay as quiet as possible. Someone’s here. Hide in the nightstand.”

Her eyes instantly cleared up as fear marred her features. There was a sense of wisdom in her movements as she calmly and quietly crawled into the lower part of the bedside table, the cubby hole just barely large enough for her small frame. I turned it so the open side faced the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief. You couldn’t tell it wasn’t meant to be that way, nor that there was an opening on the other side. As long as she was still and silent, he’d most likely never find her.

“Whatever you do, don’t come out or speak unless I tell you to. No matter what. I love you.”

With Poppy tended to, I brought up my cell phone and dialed 911.

“This is 911. What is your emergency?”

“My name is Ginger Wallace. I live on 304 Cedar Knoll. Someone just broke into my house and threatened to kill me and my daughter,” I rushed out, hoping my words were clear enough for the operator.

“You said 304 Cedar Knoll, ma’am?” the woman asked.

“Yes, please, hurry and send someone,” I hissed.

Something slammed into the bedroom door and I jumped back with a scream as the pressed wood flexed under the impact. Hands shaking and heart pounding, I ran over to my desk and looked for anything I could use as a weapon. Another wall-shuddering thud hit the door right before the man spoke again.

“They’ll be too late, bitch. They always are. You wanna know all the things I’m gonna do you to before they get here? And to that little bitch too?!”

At those words, my blood ran cold.

“What’s taking so long?” I spit into the phone when I didn’t hear anything other than keys clacking.

“Okay ma’am, I was able to send out your location. An officer is on the way. Are you in a safe place away from the intruder?” she asked.

“Yes? No? I don’t fucking know. There’s a door between us.”

“Okay, I need you to stay on the line with me. An officer should be there about in twenty minutes.”

The door bowed under the pressure of what sounded like the intruder’s entire body being thrown against it and I felt my strength begin to drain, my knees going weak as I back up and leaned against the wall.

“Twenty minutes?!”

That was too long. Way too fucking long. Without much thought, I hung up the phone and dialed the first number I could think of. The intruders cursing was barely registering in my mind as I prayed for my only hope to answer. They had been renting out a place not too far away and with luck they’d still be awake, and thus the closest help.

“Ginger? It’s late, doll. What’s up?” Stu asked through the phone.

Another slam and cracking wood filled the air, along with a cackle that made me shudder.

“There’s someone in our house,” I whimpered, sliding down to sit on the floor as I felt panic set in hard, “He’s threatening to- to kill us. Are you guys able to-?”

“What?! Fuck, yeah. We’re on the way!”

I whispered a quiet thank you and tried to listen as he rambled something about being at the liquor store, but my attention remained on the crack slowly spreading down the door. I had to do something, but what?

“Hey! Ginger! Listen to me, sweetheart. Are you in a seperate room from him?”

Billy’s calming voice came through the haze like a beacon, and I quickly answered him that we were in my bedroom.

“Okay, good. I want you to barricade the door with whatever you have. Dressers, bed, whatever. Just keep him out until we get there. We’re less thab ten minutes away.”

I nodded, then realized with a frustrated sigh that he couldn’t hear that.

“Okay,” I finally murmured.

Climbing to my feet, I managed to pin the phone between my shoulder and ear and push the dresser at the same time. It wasn’t super heavy, but it was something. Next I maneuvered my vanity over. I barely had released it when the man slammed into the door again with a frustrated growl, tearing a startled scream from me as I stumbled back onto the floor.

“Do you have a weapon?” Billy asked suddenly.

“No,” I whispered.

“Is Poppy safe?” came the next question.

“Yes. He won’t be able to find her now,” I replied lowly.

“Okay, okay good. That’s good. We’re almost there.”

I heard a car horn honk from his side of the line and Stu swearing frantically, but then I stopped listening as recognition washed over me. The intruder was quiet, had been for a good minute or two.

As if my thoughts provoked his actions, suddenly the door was rammed again. The crack splintered farther down and I could swear there was light peeking through now.

“If you open up now, I promise to make the brat only watch! Hmm? How does that sound? Would you open up to save her?”

The guy sounded winded or hurt or something, but his threat was still bone-chilling nonetheless. I knew I stood no real chance against him weaponless. A terrified whine escaped before I could stop it and I felt my stomach lurch in disgust.

“We’re here! Right outside, Ginger. Don’t come out, okay?” Billy snapped sharply.

“O-Okay,” I whispered.

A door slammed in the other room and I heard the intruder let out a cry of shock before all three men were yelling. I couldn’t help but hide my head in my arms, unable to stand the sensory overload of the screaming onto top of all the other shit going through my mind. When a cry of pain sounded, my heart nearly stopped. I jumped to my feet when Stu yelled out for Billy, and nearly tore the furniture from the door to investigate the cause, but then came a loud thud; like a body hitting the floor.

I couldn’t make out what was being said at first, but then I heard my name.

“We got him! It’s okay now.”

With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I shoved away the dresser and vanity as fast as possible and tore the door open, just to be greeted with the sight of Billy and Stu holding down a large man. A glint in the dark drew my attention to the blade at his throat, but my attention was quickly moved to the blood dripping from Billy’s nose.

Fuck. He’d gotten hurt trying to help me. A wave of guilt crashed over me, calmed only slightly when he spoke up.

“I should gut you here and now, you fuckwad,” Billy growled, “Slice you open and let you watch your intestines bleed out like a butchered pig.”

“Yeah! Teach you a lesson about messing with what isn’t yours!” Stu hissed, a terrifying look of glee on his bright eyes.

“No! Don’t kill him! No killing please.”

My shouts echoed across the room, over the man’s pained cries and the heavy grunts of Stu and Billy, and thankfully they both seemed to listen. On shaking legs, I slowly made my way over to them. The assailant was still stupidly struggling under the guys, but they gave him no quarter.

“Let’s do this the right way, okay? Remember, new start,” I whispered, carefully reaching out.

Billy tilted his head back, obviously weighing the options, before be nodded once. I couldn’t help but cringe as the blood dribbled down from his nose.

Damn that asshole for causing all of this mayhem!

“New start,” Billy agreed finally.

Hesitantly I rested a hand on their backs in a grateful manner, to which Stu surprisingly seemed to relish in.

I let out a yelp of fear as Billy reached out and suddenly slammed the man’s face into the floor, effectively knocking him out and silencing him immediately. Stu let out a snort then leaned lightly against my leg, his weight and warmth a welcome support in return, as Billy tied the man’s hands behind his back.

I let out a sigh of relief as we finally heard sirens approaching.

“Where’s Poppy?” Stu demanded suddenly, rising to his feet with an expression kin to fear on his face.

Billy swore harshly and growled out, “Did he hurt her before?!”

“No, no, she’s okay,” I reassured him quickly, “We hid before he got to us.”

Both men went limp in obvious relief as I called for her to come out. I heard nightstand scrape on the ground before she rushed out, barreling straight into my legs. I wasted no time hugging her back. After a few moments, she threw herself at the Stu. He brought her up in a bear hug, tossing a questioning look in my direction, to which I could only shrug. Why would I deny her comfort after what we’d just experienced? She clung to him like her life depended on it.

“We’re safe now, baby,” I murmured to her, reaching out and rubbing her back.

Her curls bobbed as she nodded in understanding. As she began to pull back, she instantly reached out for Billy, who was much more hesitant about holding her.

“Thank you. Thank you for saving us,” Poppy muttered into his shoulder.

“Of course,” was all he said eyes wide and glued to mine.

It was painfully obvious that he felt awkward and unsure of the familial affection, and I wanted to help somehow but wasn’t sure how. Stu shifted closer and wordlessly wrapped an arm around my shoulder, copying the motion on Billy, drawing us in. Poppy let out a little hiccup and a weak whimper as she fit snugly between the three of us. Feeling less awkward and even more grateful to them, I let my guard down and gave into my baser emotions; the dam breaking with the first tears that slipped out.

“Oh doll,” Stu muttered, squeezing me tighter when a little sniffle escaped my hold.

Eyes burning and chest aching with so many hectic emotions, I wrapped an arm around both their waists and held them tight; soaking up the feeling of complete and utter safety. As I rested my face against Stu’s chest, the tears flowed freely.

“You’re okay now,” Billy added after a few moments, “We’re not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

The sincerity in his tone took some of the ache away. I carefully drew from Stu and turned to face Billy, letting a frown curve at my lips.

“But you got hurt,” I murmured.

He looked surprised for a second before simply shrugging.

“This is nothing. I’d take worse if it’s what I had to do to make sure you guys weren’t hurt,” he replied.

Blushing, I swallowed hard and tentatively reached out, taking the hand that wasn’t holding up Poppy.

“Thank you. Let me go get a napkin and some ice for your nose.”

#Billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomisXoc #plus size female #stu macherXoc #Billy LoomisXOCXStu Macher #polyamourous #smut #fluff

[213hiphopworldnews]

All The Best Rap Albums From February 2019

Getty Image

It’s fitting that the month of Valentine’s would be defined by the recently-reconciled Offset’s Father Of 4 and several beloved acts released long-anticipated albums in Wiz Khalifa and Currensy’s 2009 and the Czarface Meets Ghostface Killah project. While this month wasn’t full of big-name releases, upstarts like Gunna are vying to get their weight up in 2019, and released strong projects to help you get acquainted.

Offset, Father Of 4

Offset had all eyes on him for his debut solo album, and Father Of 4 delivered. Offset’s debut work was a strong, refreshing effort which showed the 27-year-old delving into relatively unexplored depths of his creativity. The flashy bangers such as “Quarter Milli” with Gucci Mane and “Wild Wild West” with Gunna could have been expected from the QC stalwart, as were some of the bars addressing his marriage with Cardi B on the agitated “Clout.”

Where Offset sets himself apart from the bloated trap field is with the vulnerability and introspection he showed on tracks like “Red Room” and “Father Of 4,” which offer intriguing glimpses into the mind of an artist most known nowadays for flashy garb and a high-profile marriage. While those moments were too sparse for Father Of 4 to fully satisfy, perhaps that’s a good thing. Father Of 4’s poignant flashes postulate the potential for Offset to fully shine on his next solo work, which is the growth that many have been seeking from Migos members.

Wiz Khalifa & Currensy, 2009

Wiz Khalifa and Currensy are one of the game’s most respected tag teams. Though they’ve both had their solo successes since their initial link up with How Fly, fans have clamored for another project from the two. What better time than the month of Valentine’s Day for a beloved duo to give their fans more of what they love?

Their 15-track, aptly-titled 2009 project is not only referential to a pivotal year for both rappers, it delivers similarly placid vibes. Their chemistry is fully intact on singles like “The Life” and “Plot Twist,” which sound modern but ring true to the mellow, hypnotic energy of their best work.

Besides appreciative moments where they reflect on how far they’ve come, the content doesn’t shift far from the wheelhouse Wiz’s sunny debauchery and Currensy’s idiosyncratic imagery (“ate them mushrooms and watched Scarface and now I’m pacing in my window” on “From The Start”), but that doesn’t even matter. 2009 is a long-awaited project that delivers in a resoundingly smooth fashion.

Gunna, Drip Or Drown 2

After a banner 2018 that helped Gunna establish himself among Atlanta’s finest, the ever-prolific artist dropped off Drip Of Drown 2. He originally promised the album last December but decided to delay it to February. Though Drip Or Drown 2 doesn’t have the highs of its predecessor or Drip Harder with Lil Baby, it’s still a solid showcase of Gunna’s gifts that should appease his growing fanbase. Songs like “One Call,” “Speed It Up,” and “Yao Ming” show his formula of autotune-soaked braggadocio over moody trap beats fully intact.

Mass Appeal, Starting 5, Vol. 1

The team at Mass Appeal has been working to sign some of the underground rap scene’s top talents, and it looks like they’ve assembled a team they’re proud of. Enter Starting 5 Vol. 1, the label’s de facto crew of lyricists like Stro, Ezri, Cantrell, 070 Phi and Fashawn. They dropped Starting 5, Vol. 1, a collection of some of the music they’ve been working on before heading out on the tour they’re currently on. The “Vol. 1” indicates that there’s more to come, which is a great thing to hear, which is only a good thing after the quality on the inaugural entry in the series.

All five MCs get off throughout the 8-track EP on tracks like the mysterious “6 Rings” and the luxurious “SonShine,” featuring Stro and Cantrell as well as Keyon Harrold and esteemed producer Black Milk. The reflective track is one of the highlights of the EP along with “Apostles,” which features a Nas verse that shows the rap legend in sharp form, barreling through choir-like vocals and an evocative piano melody along with Fashawn and Ezri. Both Ezri and Fashawn got space to sprawl out on their own solo records with “Black & Blue” and “Utter Disrespect,” respectively. ”Though there’s no track with all five featured MCs present, the Starting 5’s first effort is definitely a win.

Czarface & Ghostface Killah, Czarface Meets Ghostface

After a long wait, Czarface Meets Ghostface finally dropped. The 12-track project theorizes Ghostface Killah dueling with the Czarface collective of his Wu-brother Inspectah Deck and rap duo 7L & Esoteric. It’s a wrestling-themed project featuring some of rap’s most worthy warriors and delivering just as many punches and moments of bombast as an episode of WWF Raw in its heyday. 7L provides the searing, dusty-drum soundscape for Ghostdeini, Deck, and Esoteric to get off dense raps chockful of boasts of lyrical supremacy, vivid narratives, and nostalgic wrestling references. Songs like “Mongolian Beef,” “Iron Claw” and “Morning Ritual” are standouts.

Q Da Fool & Kenny Beats, Bad Influence

Kenny Beats was batting .1000 last year with his collaborations, and his latest project with DMV rapper Q Da Fool is another banger. Kenny provided Q with a mesmerizing suite of beats, and Q commandeered them with his own brand of gritty narratives and streetwise wisdom like, “they say the hood just like the wave, don’t get caught up in it/and please don’t jump inside this game if you ain’t brought up in it” on the churning “100.”

His native PG County streets are undoubtedly the chief setting for Bad Influence, whether he’s pitching product on the egregiously thumping “Work” featuring Splurge, or painting grim portraits of the psychology of the streets on the resilient “Crazy” and gloomy “Had Sh*t.” We already knew Kenny Beats’ production acumen is incredible, and now even more people will be in tune to Roc Nation signee Q Da Fool, who’s a name to watch for 2019 and beyond.

Higher Brothers, Five Stars

88Rising is a collective and movement that shows hip-hop’s international reach, and the Higher Brothers are among the crew’s most intriguing acts. They decided to reach back out to the rest of the game on Five Stars, a fun, loftily-titled collection of previously released tracks and new heat. The quartet, comprised of MCs MaSiWei, DZknow, Psy.P, and Melo is one of the acts of the moment in China. It was a smart choice for them to entrench their presence in America with collaborations with the likes of Schoolboy Q (“Won’t Believe”), Soulja Boy (“Top”), J.I.D (“Do It Like Me”), and more. They’re equally adept at turning up with tracks like “One Punch Man” and “Gong Xi Fa Cai” as they are at straight spitting on traditionalist appeasing tracks like “Open It Up” and the funky “Sunshine.”

A$AP Ant, Addie Pitino

While ASAP Rocky and Ferg enjoy the lion’s share of mainstream attention in the Harlem-based Mob, ASAP Ant has quietly been doing his own thing for years now. Addie Pitino is the latest work from the Baltimore Native, and its a collection of fun, debaucherous thumpers with ASAP Mob’s characteristically left of center eat for beats. Though none of the other ASAP Mob members pop up on the 11-track project, their vibe is apparent though experimental synth-driven bangers like “Vanilla Cream Soda” and “Purge Button.” ASAP Ant’s lyrical content isn’t the most diverse or technically impressive, but he’s a willing and able master of ceremonies throughout the sonically impressive project.

Adé, Always Something EP

DMV rapper Adé, formerly known as Phil Adé dropped a 6-song EP that cleverly infuses “Something” into every title. The clever diction is an ingenious hook to draw listeners into his versatile craft. Long known in the DMV underground, Always Something sounds like a bold push for even more visibility. The EP boasts a number of high-profile features, and he does a good job of matching their energy in order to draw prospective fans into what he has going on.

On “Something New,” he’s showing off his knack for melody with Lil Baby, but still harkens to his MC roots with technical precision clever worthy lines like, “I cut n—-s off, I’m like breaking news.” He turns up with Rich The Kid on the “Something from Nothin’,” then gets romantic on the mesmerizing, horn-driven “Something Real” with DMV peers Goldlink and Wale. With his latest collection of witty, introspective lyricism over a modern soundscape, Ade gave us something dope this February.

Lansky Jones, Dangerfield

One of the benefits of being in a collective as gifted as New York’s World’s Fair is the inherent competition to match your peers’ solo work with heat of your own. Lansky Jones added another gem to the collective’s catalog with Dangerfield, his debut solo project. He sets the tone from the gate on the autobiographical project opener “Ode To Big Allis,” where he reflects on his experience on New York’s 7 train line and drops a lofty affirmation: “my vernacular Nas but emotional as Pac could be.”

The rest of the project shows Lansky unfurling his assonant, unmistakably New York linguistics over production that showcases his eclectic tastes. Whether he’s flexing a laidback lyrical exercise over vintage New York horns on “New York Marathon” or telling a story over “Arizona Lemon Ice Tea’s,” opulence, the tracks captivate from a range of emotional perspectives. Album standout “The Return Of Landry Jones’ is the project’s most ambitious moment, as he weaves a tale of romance from the high of new attraction to the low of heartbreak over funky, constantly evolving production. Dangerfield is a strong, personal effort that highlights Jones’ ear for beats and dedication to the classic New York sound.

source https://uproxx.com/hiphop/best-rap-albums-february-2019/

#hiphop #hip hop legend #hip hop history #hip hop #music #trending #hip hop news #ballin #hip hop scen

[slasherscream]

A/N: i love soulmate shit. it's my bread and fucking butter my dudes. so here's a soulmate au where you see your soulmate for the first time in mirrors. take a fucking sip, babes!

     billy loomis x reader x stu macher             ft. mirror soulmate au 

                                                     ——————– 

You’d always dreamed about the day you’d first lay eyes on your soulmate. What would they look like? Act like? Would you see and meet each other young? Have a whole lifetime of love ahead of you? Would you meet when you’re old? Have a lifetime of experience behind you but still have hearts open enough for love?

You tried not to obsess over the concept. Plenty of people didn’t have soulmates. You might be one of them. It would be fine if you turned out to be one of them. People without soulmates don’t all die alone or live a life doomed to ongoing misery. You tell yourself these things a lot.

You also tell yourself your young. Very young. It’s a rare few that ever meet their soulmate so young. Still, you feel like there’s always an itch under your skin. Like any moment now something incredible will happen. The incredible something. That special moment where you’ll just be standing in front of a mirror, or a shop window, or any number of things! And the surface of that item would warp and gone would be your own reflection, in its place would stand the reflection of your soulmate. Your true love. Somewhere out in the world, perfect and beautiful, just waiting for you. Or        realistically speaking maybe not waiting per-say but, you can always dream. At least in the privacy of your own head.

This is one of those rare moments you aren’t thinking about your soulmate at all. Not even subconsciously. You’re brushing your teeth and dancing around your bathroom to the radio. Having a good time all by yourself. Then it happens. The moment you’ve been waiting for since you understood what soulmates really were.

The mirror you’re dancing in front of shifts and changes. You don’t notice it at first, too busy rocking out. You do notice when you whip around to point a finger at yourself in the mirror only to not see … yourself. Instead you see two boys.

Two boys wearing identical, loose black costumes. Two boys who are soaked in blood. Absolutely covered in it. The bathroom around them covered in it as well. It paints a gruesome scene. In the tall one’s hands you see something white and your heart stops. A mask. Their faces are exposed but in that taller one’s hands is a mask. A Mask you know intimately well for someone who lives in Woodsboro, CA.

Your brain is starting to work again. Your soulmate. One of these boys is your soulmate. Then your brain throws out another thought, you know these boys. They go to your fucking school. They go to your school. The ghostface masks. All that red. Blood. It’s blood. Masks. The names, you remember them now, Stu and Billy. Billy and Stu, a dynamic duo rarely seen apart. How fitting, you guess, that they’re quite literally partners in crime for this.

You have just enough brain faculty left online to try and catalog how they’re reacting. You’re trying to see…. trying to understand which one of these boys soaked in blood is reacting to you. Reacting to the shocked and stricken look you have on your face, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

They’re both staring at the mirror. Not like one is seeing you and the other is trying to imagine what their friend is seeing in the awed way people always feel when they’re around when someone discovers their soulmate. They’re both staring at the mirror. Both staring at you.

Billy looks shocked, isn’t moving a muscle, hardly looks like he’s breathing. Stu is a whirlwind of motion. He’s pulling at his hair and seems to be screaming. You can’t read his lips. Never had a reason to try reading lips before. You want so badly to know what he’s saying at this moment. It’s probably what you’re thinking, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fu c k-

You open your mouth to start to scream. That was the original intention. What you actually do is start throwing up. It burns. Your eyes start to burn too, with tears that quickly spill down your face. You can’t move to make it to the toilet or the sink. Just fall to your knees right where you are, sobbing and sick to your stomach. You wish your bathroom was smaller in that moment, differently shaped maybe. You know they can still see you where you are, curled up on the floor, but at least you can’t see them.

Them.

A whole life fantasizing about one, perfect person to love you and you actually have two of them. Two fucking serial killers. This is the exact opposite of everything you’d ever wanted from this moment. The exact opposite of everything you’d ever dreamed. It feels like your whole world is shattering. You start to scream now. Raw, and angry, and heartbroken you start to scream. Your parents coming running up to your room, barging into your bathroom. Panicked they ask you what’s wrong. Your mother is crying. You fall into their arms but don’t stop wailing. How could you? This is the worst moment of your life.

                                                     ——————– 

You should have told. Should have told someone. Should tell someone right now. People would listen. Would even understand the fact that you’d waited nearly a week to go to the police. How does one turn in their soulmate? Turn in their pair of serial killer soulmates?

You haven’t been to school. Your parents, having never seen you act the way you did …. that night, aren’t pushing you to go. They don’t know what happened. You couldn’t begin to tell them. To form the words. What would you say? How can you express such a sudden feeling of profound horror and loss? It had hit you like a train-wreck and wasn’t getting any easier with the passing of time.

You can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Can’t leave the house. You’re stuck in a mini paralysis. A living nightmare.

You’d only just managed to call your worried best friend that morning. Ask with a voice hoarse from endless crying if Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had been in class these last few days. Confused, they’d answered in the negative. You’d hung up promptly.

They hadn’t been to school either? Probably figuring out how they're going to kill you. Even though you’re horrified at what you’d seen you’re still heartbroken at the thought. They were still your soulmates. Your killer soulmates.

It’s why you hadn’t told a single soul what you’d seen. Without knowing them you’d loved them your whole life. Had made vows to yourself about loving whoever the universe saw fit to give you with the entirety of your heart. Some small part of you is still echoing those same vows. Repeating them over and over again, is what your heart does every time your brain tries to be logical. Tries to do what’s right. You feel like a monster. They could be hurting people right this minute. People you know! People you see every day, smile at, wave at. But still your silence persists.

You doubt they feel any sort of loyalty to you. Any sort of anything at all. They’re probably sociopaths. Or psychopaths. You forget which are the ones that can’t feel love. Nothing more than a loose end to them, probably. Just a problem to solve. Just another ghostface victim that isn't dead yet. Their secret will die with you when they kill you. Any day now, you think. It’s what you’ve thought every second since you saw them in the mirrors.

You can’t decide which hurts more, the thought of your own life being cut so short or knowing who will be doing the cutting. A dry sob escapes your throat and it hurts so badly. You can’t remember the last time you drank water. Can’t remember the last time you ate.

The doorbell rings. You ignore it. The doorbell keeps ringing. Your crying still, laying out on the couch. You’ve been crying a lot. When you shove yourself away from the cushions you immediately feel dizzy. You head to the front door anyway. You know you look terrible, whoever is there will take one good look at you and do the polite thing and go away.

You yank open the door.

You’d scream but your throat is too sore. All that comes out of you is a surprised little squeak that hurts more than it should. So much so that you grab your throat afterwards, whimpering from the pain (both physical and emotional).

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher are on your front step. Stu’s finger poised to press the doorbell one more time and Billy looking oddly stressed. More stressed than you’d ever seen him look. These are stressful times all around, you sympathize completely.

The part of you that cares whether you live or die wants to slam the door and start running away. The part of you that is already so tired of living like this, in constant fear and heartbreak? That’s the part that has you sagging against the door and wiping another round of tears from your eyes.

“Can we come in?” Stu asks, stepping up beside Billy who is doing nothing but staring at you. It’s not an angry stare… just a stare. When his face finally does shift it’s to fatigue. He looks just as tired as you feel.

It still hurts to speak so you just turn around and walk back inside, leaving the door open for them. You won’t beg. Won’t ask what they’re going to do to you. How they’re going to hurt you. You don’t have it in you to hear all that. You just hope they kill you quickly. It doesn’t have to be painless, even. Just quick. Quick enough so you can pretend your soulmates aren’t murdering you.

You don’t react when you hear the door closing or hear footsteps following close behind. You just walk to the living room and lie back down in the spot you’d been laying on for hours. Days. You close your eyes trying to already get used to darkness. You wonder if it will just be darkness forever or if they’ll be something waiting for you after the pain. You think you deserve an after of some sort for living through this type of hell.

Silence fills the room. You know they’re still there though. Can hear them settling in the chairs across from you. Your soulmates. You want to laugh and you do so, it’s manic and hoarse. Utterly painful to do. It’s unlike any other laugh you’ve had before. You don’t think this bit of throat pain will bother you too much in a moment.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Billy’s voice for the first time, drifting through the open space oh so delicately. You’ve seen him covered in blood. Dripping in blood. He whispers your name like saying it too loud will break you. Maybe it would. Why does it matter? You’ll be dead soon.

“What are we waiting for here?”

“Huh?” This time it’s Stu.

“Just do it already.” You still haven’t opened your eyes. You don’t want to see. You remember dreaming of getting married. Of starting a family. Of just being madly in love. You don’t want to open your eyes to a reality so cruelly throwing all your dreams in your face.

“We’re not here to kill you.” Billy spits. The venom in his voice makes you open your eyes. Not jump. Just open your eyes.

He’s staring at you like he’s been waiting to look you in the eyes his whole life. He has nice eyes. Intense and brown. Perfect for getting lost in. The romantic that died in you brutally would melt. You just want to cry.

“No?” You croak back, it’s not really a question because you don’t believe him. Of course they’re here to kill you. But ghostface plays games doesn’t he? Likes to fuck with people before he kills them? Maybe this is what they’re doing. Coming here in normal clothes in the middle of the day. Luring you into security so when they kill you it’s all the crueler. The ultimate game.

“Here.” You’d closed your eyes again at some point and only open them because something is being pushed into your hand. A glass. Cold glass of water. Stu’s sitting beside you pushing water into your hands and he looks … you’d almost say worried. You settle on pitying. You drink the water anyway.

Wonder if it’s poisoned. But that’s not their M.O.

“Thanks.” Your throat hurts less immediately. You are actually grateful for the small kindness. It’s probably the last one you’ll experience.

“Stu, we talked about this-” Billy says and Stu springs up from where he sits on the couch beside you. It’s only when he goes do you realize he’d had his entire side pressed to your own. You miss the warmth you didn’t know you’d been soaking up. You’ve felt cold these last few days inside and out.

This is the first moment that peace dissolves. Stu’s hands are ripping through his hair, reminiscent of that night you’d first seen them in the mirror. Billy seems to be an echo of that night too. He’s so still beside the rise and fall of his chest. Like a snake ready to strike.

“I just want to-” Stu starts off nearly screaming before he folds into himself. Billy gets up then, eyes finally moving away from you. He puts an arm around Stu and turns the both of them away from you. You can see that his hand rubs circles into Stu’s back like he’s trying to soothe him. They talk for a moment. Quiet murmurs you can’t focus on. Probably working out last minute details. You’re so tired.

“Please make it quick.” You interject into the space softly, they turn back to face you. Staring at them both at once is …. a lot, but you manage. “As quick as possible, please. I just …. I don’t-” your eyes are stinging again.

You don’t want to cry in front of them. But you have so little control over the body you’ve been abusing and neglecting these last few days. The best you can do is tuck your face into your knees and hold yourself. You press your knees into your eyes so hard it hurts. The pain is grounding. Centering. Everything will be okay soon, you tell yourself.

“No one came here to hurt you.” Billy says tightly, like he’s trying not to be frustrated. He speaks the way someone who knows they’d signed up for an impossible, irritating task does. “We didn’t even bring anything we could use to hurt you.”

“There are things in the house.” You’re practically on autopilot. About to start offering up the kitchen knives in the same way a host would offer someone lemonade. “Lots of things. You’re both creative.”

“Jesus christ, Billy-” Stu practically whimpers.

“I know, Stu.” He answers back, sounding tired again.

“We didn’t come here to do anything to you. We just-”

“Then why’d you come?” You shoot back and with that Stu is crying. That shocks you. The first bit of real feeling in days. You shift uncomfortably in your seat even, at the sight of his tears. The heartbreak on his face. It looks like he wants to fall apart, and then he looks desperately to Billy like he hope’s the other boy knows how to keep him together.

“You’re our… you’re our soulmate. You’re ours. We’re-”

“Yours.” Finishes Billy, putting a steadying hand on Stu’s shoulder. Stu pulls himself together quickly enough. Like he’s on a mission even though his eyes are still misty, “Whether we all like it or not.”

And that is your breaking point. You’d never imagined that being said to you when you imagined your soulmate. Whether we like it or not- (stuck with me. stuck with them. stuck. probably hate me. You wish you could hate them. But some part of you loved them even with the way you saw them that first time, soaked in blood) you sob and it makes your body want to be sick again. Desperate gasps for air narrowly avoid becoming dry heaves.

They’re both crowding you now, panicked by your panic. Your distress. Hands on you. Arms around you. One boy on each side and God help you, you melt into their arms.

“Didn’t tell anyone. Should’ve. But I didn’t. Like it or not,” You would scream if you could, “Like it or not       I loved you before I ever met you. Dreamed about you. And I-”

Billy tucks you into his arms, pulls you into his lap and Stu follows, pressing into your back like he’s drawn to you magnetically. The back of your shirt feels wet. He’s still crying, you realize. It makes you cry harder.

“That wasn’t the way you’d always dreamed of meeting us as a kid?” There’s something about his tone that’s softer now. You're doing nothing but babbling really, making such little sense, but Billy is an expert at deciphering what people mean. He’s seemed to realize now that you don’t hate them, much as you should. You’re just confused. Upset. Rattled. But there’s no hate in the way you’re clinging to him and reaching back for Stu. No hate to be found in your eyes. In your voice. Your touch. Just hurt. They can deal with hurt. They can fix hurt.

“Understatement.” Even as upset as he is Stu laughs at your dry response. Nuzzles into the back of your neck with a sniffle.

“We have a lot to talk about.” Billy runs his hand through your hair. Keeps your head pressed to his chest like he wants to tattoo you there. Keep you there. Remember you there. This is such a cluster-fuck of a situation this might be his one chance to hold you.

“It can wait.” Mumbles Stu against your hair, arms coming up to encircle you and Billy both.

You agree. You don't want to think too much about how the hands on you have been covered in blood. Hurting people. They're holding you gently and you want, just for a moment, to be soulmates. Just a regular trio of soulmates in need of a moment of peace before they brave the worst shitstorm of their own making.

                                                     ——————–

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #i started this out because i wanted a nice soulmate au ....who... am i adjkl #i waNTED TO WRITE FLUFF JESUS FUCK #i started out thinking 'cute soulmate au' but i guess like...here take some traumatized ! reader instead #go feTCH