Please take the time to read through the rules before making a request. And, seeing as this is strictly a hobby of mine, I reserve the right to refuse a request.
Also, a friendly reminder that since I don't write smut/NSFW, this blog is 15+ and I will be making no exceptions. I will block you if you are either under 15 or your age isn't in your bio.
My asks are currently CLOSED!
Masterlists:
House of Wax
Predator
Slashers
Current Works In Progress:
> There Is Life In Every Breath Part 1 [TATYB Series Part 9]
> Your Tender Touch, A Soothing Balm [Vincent Sinclair x GN Reader]
> Health Is Not Valued Till Sickness Comes [Sinclair Brothers x GN Reader]
In case it's not common, reading is a part of your job as a writer.
Not every reader is a writer, but every writer MUST be a reader. Reading inspires you, motivates you, and keeps your creativity flowing. Make sure to read more than you write.
Thank you for the ping! (Love your username, btw. It’s so cool.)
Hmm. Something random… well, I’m afraid I don’t like the smell of lavender at all. :,D
I’ll hand it over to @jesslikestowrite @bylertrruther @uhhyupmlb @bugssavetheworld @faguettism @decemberbyler @cosmorom @moonlight-froggy + anyone else who’d like to join! <3
@sufferingfrommoodpoisoning @pointmetotheundertow thank you for the tag!
this might be an original experience because i haven't heard anyone else say this yet but...
I have a phobia of moss/seaweed🧍🏻♂️
@ode-to-berlermo @the-bogginses-are-gay @your-ivy-grows13 @zar-bylerz @missuesoup @letterbetter13 @dumbkitsune @wizardelio @miwiromantics @shadowyyyidk @eeriesilkworm @4-6-1-3-7 @chenetira @zombiewheeler + all my other moots and anyone who'd like to join <3
Whenever I have a song stuck in my head I HAVE to sing it, because if I don’t then I’ll actually explode, even at SCHOOL or something 😭
Sorry if some of you have done this: @ryaoi @maddyxroses @belovedkenzie @noneedtoargue1994 @hypoclericalcunt @televangelistics @miwiheroes @bylerlesbian @elherself134 @elieandra @wizardelio @the-bogginses-are-gay @st5byler
Hmmmm... I am so oblivious to drama that one time in my junior year, someone baked brownies that were secretly edibles for a class i was in (i didnt have any cuz i was feeling sick) and i didnt find out until just before graduation.
@sapphicrot @omegaspoon3141 @clubsheartsspades @skrunklie uhhh who else have i got... @crippledinafunway you still like tag games?
I think Nightshade is pretty cool and I love Venus Flytraps. I think it's so cute when they catch themselves a big ol' spider or a little frog. Like they got themselves a good lunch!
I'm doing pretty well and so is my family! I know I just sort of dropped off the grid, but I was unceremoniously dragged into a different fandom and I'm kinda fixating on it at the moment so I haven't been writing anything for the slashers for a while. I'll probably cycle back around to slashers eventually, but for now I'm letting the brainworms have their way.
Hey guys, sorry for being so inactive. I feel like I'm making excuses but I just haven't been on my computer in around two months now. I have no motivation to write, or to do much of anything honestly. With everything that's going on right now, from the director of the company my grandmother and sister work for being fired for embezzling funds to my grandmother going to the ER for mystery chest pain, I just... needed a break from everything. I'm so tired right now, and I don't know when I'll be in a better place so I hope you guys will be patient with me.
oof that whole water situation sounds awful (especially with these temperatures)
hope your dad is doing alright, he got injured if I remember correctly?
and just overall wishing you the best <3
My dad is doing better, though his recovery (he had fractured two ribs and bruised the rest) was set back two weeks because his brother is an asshole and threw a toolbox at his chest because they were arguing. But he's doing alright other than that particular hiccup and, last I heard (which was yesterday) my dad had a job interview.
You are missed and we hope you are alright in the real world ♡
Life has just been pretty hectic lately between the power going out twice and the water plant shutting down because a pump broke. The water was contaminated and it was a mandatory boil for days, which means showering, washing dishes (I hand wash), watering the garden, watering pets (lol), and basic shit like washing hands/brushing teeth became harder with limited clean water. We don't have a lot of money right now, so my family struggled through this since we had to boil the contaminated water due to not having much bottled water. The bottled water we did have (which was one case that we picked up from the fire department) I drank at work, since I have a really active job with no way to access clean water there. Then, the water got shut off completely for a time, so we could only use what we collected. My town made it onto the state news because of all this. The mandatory boil was just lifted yesterday and the water is back on, but damn it's been stressful lately. Thanks for checking in on me though!
A/N: Just a short and sweet warm-up to hopefully get back into the swing of writing for slashers other than the Sinclair brothers, lol.
And, if any of you are interested in throwing me a tip, why not buy me a coffee?
Living with a serial killer was, uh… something, to say the least. Being best friends with the notorious Boogeyman in specific was even more strange. Well, strange in the sense that it was actually ridiculously domestic. Occupying the same house as Michael turned out to be relatively normal if one were to ignore the occasional stalking, the random blood smears on various surfaces, and the late-night murder sprees.
Regardless of Michael’s peculiarities, it was kind of like living with the feline equivalent of a human. Michael would hover when he wanted your attention, shadowing you around the house like an overgrown, homicidal duckling until he had his fill of company. Otherwise, Michael mostly kept to himself, making and painting paper mache masks at the dining table or reading a book on the couch.
You noticed that he never did anything noisy, nothing that required moving around a lot; which was probably a result of being incarcerated at a young age. Michael would sit down with whatever activity he felt like doing and simply entertain himself with that one thing for literal hours, only briefly looking away from his task when you wandered into whatever room that he had settled in.
You usually left Michael to his own devices when he was occupying himself with some activity or another, periodically checking in on him to refill his chosen beverage and give him more snacks if he was running low. Most of the time Michael preferred a sweet treat with a glass of ice cold water. Although you had gotten him to start drinking milk with his cookies, so you considered that a win.
However, when you weren’t fussing over Michael, you took the opportunity to complete some chores and bake more snacks since he tended to go through them in around two or three days. Michael favored cookies of all kinds, but he would eat any sweet treat you put together so long as it had enough sugar to give a lesser man diabetes. Fortunately for Michael, the laws of nature didn’t seem to apply to him, his body deferring to an entirely separate set of rules.
You were drawn out of your reminiscing when a familiar pale hand reached around you from behind to scoop up a heaping pile of chocolate chip cookie dough from the bowl that you held, retreating just as swiftly and silently as it had appeared. You shook your head in fond exasperation at his usual antics, head turning to peer up at Michael from over your shoulder, the man already staring at you through his curtain of hair as he practically inhaled the dough.
“Done with your book then?” You asked, setting the bowl onto the countertop in favor of grabbing a towel to wipe off Micheal’s fingers –which he had, predictably, licked clean– and his head dipped a tiny bit in what was the closest to proper communication that he could manage considering that he had been mute and disconnected from the world for most of his life.
“I’ll return it to the library tomorrow after work and check out the sequel.” You hummed, setting the towel aside to throw in the washer later before grabbing the bowl of cookie dough and an ice cream scooper, depositing the sizable piles of dough onto the cookie sheet.
“You can have the bowl when I’m done.” You offered, once again glancing at Michael over your shoulder when he moved closer, practically plastered to your back. You couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was when he was excited, his demeanor reminiscent of a child. He obediently shifted back a step once you put the last dough ball onto the cookie sheet, his head turning as his eyes followed your path to the pre-heated oven.
“Two batches of chocolate chip cookies and that last batch of lemon poppyseed shortbread cookies should last you until I go grocery shopping the day after tomorrow, yeah?” You inquired, shutting the oven on the first batch before setting a timer to make sure the cookies wouldn’t burn.
As usual, Michael had no input on the matter, a mute sentinel that loomed in the center of the kitchen like an omen of death. You had never taken his silence personally though, not when he actually made an effort to communicate with you nonverbally. Michael still had days where he wasn’t responsive at all, staring blankly until nightfall, his preferred time to hunt.
You returned to your spot at the counter to start scooping the second dozen onto another cookie sheet, Michael reclaiming his position directly behind you, the mammoth of a man occasionally reaching around you to try and sneak more cookie dough. You thwarted his efforts each time though, gently catching his wrist to redirect his hand from its route to the bowl. Michael allowed the contact, skin warm and surprisingly tan considering he was usually only outside at night.
Constantly fending off Michael’s wandering hand made it difficult to complete your task since the bowl kept sliding around on the countertop, though you were quick to come up with a solution. So, the next time that you saw Michael’s hand going for the bowl, you laid your hand over top of his. The man paused, unresisting when you guided his hand to the side of the bowl, his fingers obediently holding it in place so you could comfortably scoop the thick dough out.
You kept your hand on his until the tray was full, the other wielding the aforementioned ice cream scoop. Then it was time to clean up, Michael assisting you by drying the dishes that you’d scrubbed clean, even going as far as to put them away. You had no idea why he was in such a good mood, but you weren’t about to question it since a happy Michael was a cooperative Michael.
Although it wouldn’t occur to you until much later that Michael had been uncharacteristically persistent about swiping more cookie dough because he had wanted you to hold his hand.
Could we just get some headcanons about the slashers (and youths please), with a reader that goes to therapy?
Thank you!<3
(idk, going to therapy feels emberasing when I go there)
Comfort
Slashers x GN Reader Headcanons
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,134
A/N: Not sure what you mean by ‘youths’ in relation to slashers, but I hope I was able to interpret your ask in the way you intended. Also, I’m trying to get the hang of writing in a headcanon format, so sorry if my first attempt is a little disorganized and clumsy.
And, if any of you are interested in throwing me a tip, why not buy me a coffee?
RZ Michael Myers
Michael has had many therapists attempt to interact with him while he was incarcerated at Smith's Grove, but he doesn't have any opinions on them due to being pretty dismissive of people in general.
Out of all the slashers on this list, Michael is the one who’s the most neutral about you going to therapy. He’s not particularly social or clingy, so he doesn't really care what you do during the day.
Although, if you return from your session rattled, Michael will hover in your personal space menacingly until you fess up about why you’re acting out of the ordinary. I’d advise you to exercise caution though, because Michael will not be pleased that some stranger was the cause of your distress.
With that said, you can’t allow his anger to fester or your therapist will wind up dead, and distracting him by asking for his company is your best bet to do just that. He'll go on a walk with you –in a secluded area of course– or watch a movie with you, he’ll sit at the dining table while you cook/bake, or even do arts and crafts with you. There’s not much he won’t do if you’re the one who asks.
Jason Voorhees
Jason will greet you at the entrance to Crystal Lake camp when you get back from your appointment, climbing into your vehicle with a surprising amount of grace considering his substantial size. And, if you don't drive a vehicle, he'll happily walk you to one of the entrances to his underground tunnel system like a gentleman.
Jason is very fussy, he’ll set you up either in the main area or your room –which is also underground for safety reasons– and proceed to meticulously place all your favorite things within your reach. From snacks and beverages to books, you won’t have to look farther than the nearest table to find whatever it is you want.
Jason isn’t smothering though, if you want to be alone, he’ll go out to stalk the campgrounds for unwelcome intruders, check the various traps, or hunt. Though if you do want his company, he will gladly stay, coaxing you to either play a card game or a board game if you don’t want to talk about your session.
If the session was a rough one, Jason will go all out with his care. You get the softest blankets and the fluffiest pillows to cuddle up with, your favorite meal, and a movie of your choosing put into the portable DVD player that you had found in an intruder’s pack.
Jason is all too happy to provide you with anything and everything you need to make you feel better, including his presence. You want to use him as a mattress? Absolutely. You want a massage? He’s on it. You want a hug? Done. You want to talk? He’s all ears.
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas is hovering in your personal space as soon as you get home, having been both dropped off and picked up from the therapist’s office by Luda Mae since she insists on it.
Hoyt and Monty keep their distance for a few hours after you get back, limiting their offensive and/or vile comments to a few grumbles here and there. Thomas is the main reason for this, because he doesn't like it when you leave the property, to say the least. Thomas gets restless, prowling around the house in search of something to keep him busy until you come back.
When you get home, Thomas is waiting outside for you, opening the car door for you. He respectfully keeps his hands to himself until you give him permission to touch, then he’s pulling you into a bear hug. He’ll be constantly touching you for the rest of the day. A hand rubbing up and down your back, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand gently squeezing your hip, more hugs… he’s all over you.
Thomas can’t help but worry. He doesn't like people –and for good reason too– doesn't like that he’s not there to protect you if someone tries something. You try to reassure him that you’ll be fine, your therapist is perfectly professional and the townspeople are content to leave you be, but he’s not convinced.
You and Thomas share a room, which is one of the larger bedrooms on the second floor because Thomas is a big guy and needs a considerable amount of space. It had taken some getting used to, but your sense of modesty and desire for privacy are long gone after spending so much time in close quarters with the Hewitts. Besides, with Thomas being such a light sleeper, Hoyt can’t sneak into the room at night to mess with you.
Tom Hanniger & Harry Warden
Tom is no stranger to therapy and all it entails, he himself spoke to several different therapists during the seven years that he spent in a psychiatric hospital. So, with that being said, Tom waits for you in the parking lot after dropping you off, listening to the radio and absently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to entertain himself.
Tom is usually in charge of the body, with Harry only making an appearance to either kill someone or get it on with you, which is a division that they’re perfectly content with. Tom is a better boyfriend anyway, taking you on romantic dates and being disgustingly domestic at home. Granted, Harry spends time with you as well, he’s just more callous and has a shorter fuse.
On a normal day, Tom will bring you straight home after your session, the two of you cooking a meal together. But when you come out of the building with red-rimmed eyes and a defeated slump to your shoulders, Harry stirs. Tom maintains control of the body with considerable effort, asking after what happened once you climb into the car.
You don’t have to give him a play-by-play, he just wants to get a feel for where your head is at so he can adjust his plans accordingly. If your session was more emotionally draining than anything, he’ll make a pit stop at an ice cream shop to get you your favorite flavor. Though, if your session has torn open old wounds, Tom will bring you home and do his best to comfort you.
Tom is a little awkward, but he is genuine with his efforts. Please throw the man a bone by telling him what you need from him, he will be more than happy to give it to you. Harry will also chip in in his own way when he fronts that night, doing some chores around the house for you before he goes out to blow off some steam so you have the day to relax.
