#scream inspired

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #scream #scream inspired #sturniolo #querenciasturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #ghostface

[misstycloud]

Yandere Slasher

Yandere!slasher who is your long term boyfriend of five years and absolutely loves you to death. He can’t imagine himself with someone else.

Yandere!slasher who has a secret hobby, something he can’t tell you or he’s sure you’d leave him. It is rather….different after all.

Yandere!slasher who reassures you that nothing bad will happen to you, like those other kids you often see in TV. He wouldn’t be entirely truthful if he didn’t say he enjoyed the moments when you tremble in anxiousness and he could be there to comfort you.

Yandere!slasher who has teamed up with another student of his collage to kill the people going there. But he has of course made sure the guy knows you’re off-limits. Otherwise, he’d find himself next to be on the news.

Yandere!slasher who knows you’d be horrified and heartbroken if you realised it was him all along who was causing this havoc, your sweet lovely boyfriend. So that’s why he needs to make sure no one will ever get the chance to snitch.

Yandere!slasher who got a real scare when one of their victims nearly got away while having accidentally seen his face. In a struggle they had managed to rip off his mask for just a second, but it was enough to connect to dots. Luckily he succeeded in getting rid off them before they could tell anybody.

Yandere!slasher who hates imagining your reaction to his special fun, he couldn’t help it though, something in him wouldn’t let him stop. It told him to continue. This thing had been in his mind as long as he could remember; growing as he did, getting stronger. The only person he didn’t feel this way towards was you. You, his darling little girlfriend.

Yandere!slasher who gets a fine opportunity to do some killing, because for some stupid reason decided to host a party despite the recent increase in murders- like what? How dumb can you be? They’re basically asking for it, the killer laughed. A house full of unsuspecting and intoxicated teenagers; it’s perfect.

Yandere!slasher who is surprised and a little nervous when you tell him you want to attend the party, even when you preferred staying in your dorm ever since teens had started turning up dead. Apparently your friends had convinced you to go anyway, they thought you needed to loosen up a little and could use some fun.

Yandere!slasher who let’s you go, but initially tries to talk you out of it; reminding you how jittery you’d been the last weeks. He didn’t manage to persuade you and went together with you. He was gonna go anyway but wanted to convince you that he had work that night and would come by later, after slaughtering his victims.

Yandere!slasher who with reluctance made sure you were knocked out on the couch. When he began his atrocities a lot of people had already started making their way home, and there wasn’t too many inside the house. The ones still there became his victims for the night.

Yandere!slasher who quietly slips away unnoticed to put on his disguise and curses his partner for dissing him without warning for the night and let’s him do it himself.

Yandere!slasher who knew no one would pay attention to his actions because of the raging alcohol and drugs. Which was good, it only gave him the advantage.

Yandere!slasher who has a chase with his prey through the house. When they notice you laying on the couch, they take you for a drunk who doesn’t have the capacity to run away. Distressed they choose to be a good person and tries to wake you up by shouting and shaking you, but ultimately fails.

Yandere!slasher who somehow lost sight of the victim. He wanted to punch himself, how could he let one escape! Then he realises that he hadn’t failed, because he suddenly hears loud screams from downstairs.

Yandere!slasher who immediately becomes aware of their intentions. They were trying to wake you up! Regardless of his intervention, he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t wake in case of someone screaming their lungs out right beside you.

Yandere!slasher who rushes downstairs and quickly ends it, with no conscience to their crying. It doesn’t matter how much they beg, it won’t change anything.

Yandere!slasher who winces when he sees that some dirt has splattered on your shirt. He then picks you up in his muscles arms before bringing you back to your dorm.

Yandere!slasher who hides his costume well and takes off your shirt, quickly throwing it in the laundry. What would you say if you discovered that stain? It’d undoubtedly raise questions. Tomorrow when the bodies were found, he didn’t want the police to suspect you if you turned up with blood on your shirt.

Yandere!slasher who cuddles you until you groggily open your eyes. You ask him what you were doing home, the last thing you remembered was being at the party. Your boyfriend tells you that you drank a little too much and ended up passing out, that he then carried you home pretty early.

“I’m worried, what if I’m the next victim-or worse, what if the killer targets you?”>

<“Whoever it is they won’t be able to lay a single hand on me, and not you either. Trust me.”

“How can you be so sure?”>

<“I just know….”

#oc #male yandere #obsessed #toxic #yandere oc #bad relationships #yandere #short story #possesive #yandere boyfriend #slasher #horror #scream inspired #slasher yandere #slasher boyfriend #yandere slasher boyfriend #yandere slasher #serial killer #murder #killer #killer boyfriend #killer yandere #yandere killer #yandere serial killer #victims #girlfriend reader #collage #party #headcanon #HC

[i-heart-slashers]

You’re Mine | chapter one

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A peaceful town in Indiana turns into a bloodbath when a deadly threat haunts the town. The resident teenagers are terrorized by a masked killer, which begins to tear at the fabric of an otherwise-peaceful community ending in bloody pieces of innocent lives scattered around the small town of Hawkins.

Kimberly and her friends have to navigate their lives while trying to survive the murderous Ghostface killer who seems intent on killing them all but is the killer someone they already know?...

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | character death(s), harassment, violence, murder, stalking, slasher killer, killing spree,

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.2 k

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | murder, gore, character death, violence, mentions of violent acts, home invasion and implications of eating disorder.

Kimberly sighed as she leaned back against the couch, the weight of her friend Chrissy's troubled relationship pressing on her shoulders. The phone call had been another chapter in the ongoing saga of Chrissy and Jason, and Kimberly couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and sympathy.

Eddie, noticing Kimberly's evident distress, gently placed a wary hand on her shoulder. His soft brown eyes conveyed genuine concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, just Chrissy troubles," Kimberly replied, mustering a small smile for Eddie. She could always count on him to lend a listening ear. "I think I actually talked her into dumping Jason finally," she added, the sigh that followed betraying her building headache.

She felt pity for what her best friend was about to go through.

Eddie, the resident drug-dealing 'senior' senior of their high school, sat on the floor beside Kimberly, who had set up a makeshift study area with a coffee table strewn with books and study materials. "Wow, I can't imagine Jason will be happy with that," Eddie remarked, his tone reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.

Kimberly frowned as she contemplated the repercussions of Chrissy's decision. "He hasn't got a choice; Chrissy deserves better than that asshole. Once we're out of high school, she'll see how better off she is without him."

Eddie chuckled, but his eyes were serious, contradicting his light tone. "Out of high school or Hawkins," he quipped, referring to their small town. The comment subtly acknowledged their unspoken plans for life after graduation.

Kimberly's wry smile in response held a mixture of determination and anticipation. She knew Eddie had overheard the conversation, and they both shared a silent understanding of their shared dreams of leaving Hawkins behind.

"I forgot to ask, how did the English paper go?" the brunette asks, remembering the last time they studied together, which was becoming more frequent over time. If Eddie needed her help, Kimberly was always there to offer it.

Eddie handed over some papers with a sheepish grin. His grades had steadily declined before he got tutoring from the pretty brunette, but now they were slowly going back up.

Kimberly's eyes scan over the words on the English paper he'd written in his scrawled handwriting.

"See! I told you that you could do it. If you put in as much effort with this as you do in your campaigns, you'll sail your way to graduation," She says to him with a happy smile, pleased at Eddie's work.

"I'm pretty sure I'm only passing because of you," Eddie chuckles as he scratches the back of his neck, feeling a blush rise from the neck of his shirt.

It wasn't speculation; it was a fact. Kimberly's help was keeping him going, and teachers were off his back.

Kimberly smiles as she looks at the older teen. "You're not just passing because of me, Eddie," she said, her gaze meeting his. "You're passing because you're putting in the effort, and that's something to be proud of. One day, you won't even need me," she teases, drinking from her soda bottle.

"I'll always need you," Eddie says, looking at her with wide brown eyes. The thought of Kimberly not being around makes him sad. It's not every day someone treats him like he's not a freak, and it's even less someone like her was willing to spend time helping him out.

Eddie was grateful for Kimberly's support. His eyes scanned the pages of the English paper, absorbing the words and ideas that had earned him praise from the brunette. It starkly contrasted his usual encounters in the harsh high school environment.

Kimberly, in turn, appreciated the companionship that Eddie offered. She found comfort in the fact that, despite the storm raging outside, there was a sense of calm within the walls of her frequently empty home.

"Such a charmer, but your flattery doesn't work with me." With a sly, joking smile, Kimberly pushes the books and paper toward Eddie with a small smile as they begin to study.

The rain began to beat against the windows, the wind howling through the trees as the storm outside intensified. Lightning flashed through the room, casting eerie, fleeting shadows on the walls. Sirens wailed in the distance, becoming a haunting backdrop to their shared moment of silence.

Kimberly and Eddie immersed themselves in their books, and a comfortable silence settled between them; the atmosphere was warm and focused, but outside, the storm raged on as more lightning struck, but the two ignored it as the sirens mixed in with the loud bangs.

Eddie leaned over the coffee table, absorbed in his books and notes. Though a chaotic mess, he understood it, and that was something remarkable in itself. He wasn't dumb, and he knew it. He just needed a different way of studying and understanding.

Kimberly pointed to a particular section in one of the textbooks, underlining it in pencil. "Remember, Eddie, this part is essential for the upcoming test. You've got this. Just keep going, and you'll be on your way to graduation in no time and giving the middle finger to the man."

The dark-haired metalhead nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "I owe a lot of this to you, Kimmy. Without your help and encouragement, I don't know where I'd be."

With a gentle smile and her gaze softening, Kimberly looked at her friend. "You've come a long way, Eddie, and I'm proud of you. And I'm always here to help, but you're more capable than you give yourself credit for."

The room took on an intimate atmosphere as the two delved back into their respective study materials. Eddie appreciated the solace that Kimberly's presence brought, a stark contrast to the turbulent environment of high school, where he often felt like an outsider.

As Kimberly flipped through her textbook, she couldn't help but marvel at Eddie's determination. It was evident that his academic struggles weren't due to a lack of intelligence but rather a lack of support. The quiet confidence he displayed in the face of challenges was something she found admirable.

"You know, Eddie, it's not just about the grades. You've got a unique perspective and voice. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise," Kimberly said, her eyes meeting his. "I think you're selling yourself short. You're a lot more capable than you give yourself credit for. Maybe it's time to believe in your own potential."

Eddie smiled appreciatively, grateful for the academic guidance and the emotional support Kimberly offered. Eddie couldn't help but reflect on Kimberly's positive changes in his life as they continued to study.

Outside the Caligari home, a dark figure shrouded in the shadows of the storm stands watching the teenage girl and boy laugh and work together as if in their own little bubble.

As the night progressed, the intensity of the storm grew. The lightning painted patterns across the sky, briefly illuminating the silhouette of the dark figure. The distant sirens and bangs became a haunting accompaniment to the unfolding scene.

A calculating glint in their eyes hinted at a deeper interest in the lives of these two teenagers. Unbeknownst to Kimberly and Eddie, their bond had not gone unnoticed. Their laughter and camaraderie seemed to be an oasis of normalcy in a world that often felt troubled and uncertain.

A gust of wind rustled the figure's coat, revealing only a glimpse of a face obscured by darkness. Their purpose and identity remained unknown. Only time would tell their intentions and the impact they would have.

In the midst of the raging storm, the two friends studied, laughed, and supported each other, unaware of the ambiguous figure lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make their presence known.

#stranger things #horror #horror slashers #slashers #stranger things ghostface #ghostface #stranger things au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #female oc #stranger things female #eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #Scream #Scream Inspired

[mobius-m-mobius]

I think there’s one or two who will.

#mobius #loki #lokius #mcuedit #lokiedit #marveledit #loki spoilers #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #SCREAMING INTO THE VOID #oh i'm never recovering from them i fear #do i think every action of loki's was shaped and inspired with love for mobius in mind? yes absolutely #will i lose it all if someone doesn't take mobius gently in their arms to tell him how important and beloved he is? even more so i'm afraid #loki s2 spoilers #marvel #owenwilsonedit #dianagifs

[elinbean]

a win for tortured writers and haunted artists everywhere

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #the game awards #tga #the game awards 2023 #tga 2023 #for real. I was so happy to see it win that first Best Narrative I could’ve screamed #to see a game go places no game— and I’m starting to think no film or tv show either— has ever gone creatively #(and execute the landing SO ENCHANTINGLY WELL) #to see a game like that receive even part of the recognition it so richly deserves… it makes my heart swell. #I’ve never felt so creatively inspired in my life. I’m so happy

[monicahar]

“thanks for the flowers!”

“what flowers?”

in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.

characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh

; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,

WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?

“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”

you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.

“you do know that you're dating me, right?”

“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”

his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.

“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”

“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.

“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”

“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.

“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”

...?

you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.

“...excuse me?”

“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.

not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.

ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.

but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.

“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?

alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”

“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—

“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”

alhaitham pauses his train of thought.

speak of the devil.

momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.

“what about him?”

you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”

“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.

“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”

even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—

alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.

“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.

KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.

“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”

“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.

an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.

“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”

“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”

“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”

“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”

“no, the one before that.”

“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.

it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.

he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.

“kaveh?!”

“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.

“it's not like i reciprocate it—”

“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”

you blink. “kaveh...”

“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”

“okay, okay! jeez...”

now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?

the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

#can i just announce thag i only found out today that i am moots with LOCK???? #literally screamed when i saw her name in my followers list #literally my inspiration for writing😭 one day ill write just like her i promise #for now enjoy my terrible vocabulary #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #har❗fiction

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 7: Time moves sideways

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #better drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #Despite a whole ass inspiration board for reference - it turns out drawing and colouring half submerged people is a CHALLENGE. #I am channeling the zoobie bunny and internally screaming “WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA”. #What I wanted was a cool transition between present and past! What I got was a very full mouth of my own foot! #That said: there are aspects I really like about this one and I feel like I got most of the way to where I wanted it to be. #Water is hard to draw and I am saying that even after dedicating a full 4 page comic with people in the water. #Forget hands. Water is my new nemesis. #I love how floaty this flashback transition was. The hazy mind wandering as LWJ carries him as a set up to recollection! #Aren't memories an incredible thing? To relive a moment in your mind? To have time repeat again and again? #And yet it is always a little different when we go to recall it once again. We are different people than the person we once were.

[sunflowersinheaven]

another wip, that i wont be able to finish for a while

#guys send help and motivation for the next week i have 3 tests and a homework to finish rip #star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #my art #wip #uni is kicking my ass so badly 😭 #trying my best not get back to the mindset i was in the past few months #but its hard like this ugh #at least only a week and exam mont left of this semester #sorry for rambling here 🤣 #you guys should watch the vampire gay show #thats what keeps me going its so good #im obsessed with it #i made a typo *month #thise drawing was also inspired by that show #its great show #i think i need sleep why im still rambling here #okay sorry if you are still reading the tags #made another typo *this #*screams silently*

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THIS THING IS SCUUUFFED AS HELL & ITS ALSO THE BEST THING I HAVE ANIMATED THUS FAR. IM SO IN LOVE WITH EMIZEL. JUST WISH I GAVE HIM MORE STUPID TATTOOS. NEXT TIME THO. NEXT TIME. I ALSO LOVE VEX&VIV SOOOO MUCH. charlies flavor of Deranged is my FAVORITE!!

#cw gore #jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #jrwi suckening spoilers #ACTULY FINISHED THIS A WHILE AGO. kept going back n forth between trying to work on it more or call it done #in the end i chose DONE!! i worked on this for a full day n a half. NO idea what possesed me but it is NOT happenin again anytime soon #i shall do better NEXT TIME!! in the meantime tho OH MY GOOOOOD WHO WANTS TO SCREAM ABT THE SUCKENING WITH ME #THE FUCKINNN THE FUCKIN THING WITH VEX N VIV BEING THE SHADOW LEADERS OF THE FANGS/DEMONS #OH MMYY GOOOODDD THATS THEIR LIL MEAT GENERATOR... THTS SO FUCKED UP AND COOL UUUGHHH I LOVE THEM... #THEIR FLAVORE IS SO WONDERFUL. I LOOOVE HOW SILLY THEY ARE. MAKING PUNS WHILE PULLIN A SCREAMING VICTIM APART #vex n his lil fashiony art workshop and viv n her sterile n clean doctors office #i bet she doesnt even HAVE a medical liscense. it would be funny if vex did tho. could u imagine #they main MEDIC in tf2 together. viv is the battlemedic while vex only pocket medics for her. COULD U IMAGINE #guh i could go on abt these two forever n ever n ever i LOVE THEMM i gotta draw em more.... #OH ALSO before i run outa room. i should say. i took inspiration from a tf2 animation called POOTIS ENGAGED #the animator. Ceno0. uses black bars in the action sequences in SUCH A COOL WAYYY everytime i watch that video i feel inspired #oneday ill make more complex fight scenes... one day.... #in the meantime UGHHH I LOVE THE SUCKENING SO MUUUCH CAN I JUST FUCKIN SAAAYY THAT I THINK EMIZEL IS A SMART COOKIE!! #THESE PPL FUCKING FEAR HIM NOW!!! 'SHAMIA SHAMI' IS NOW THEIR MORTAL ENEMY!! POWERFUL ILLUSIONIST. CANT DIE. #THAT PART AT THE END THERE WHERE HE FUCKIN. KILLS HIMSELF INFRONTA THEM. THATS SO AWESOME. THATS SO METAL. AND THEN HE COMES BACK!! #I WATCHED EP 7 ASWELL BUT I WONT SPOIL IT HERE. BUT OMYGOD. EMIZEL IS SO COOL AND CAPABLE N SMART N FUNNY N UGHHHHHH I LOVE HIMMMMM #OKAY THATS MY RAMBLE FOR THE DAY THANKYOU FOR READING. I READ ALL TAGS SO YOU SHOULD RAMBLE TOO. IF YOU WANT. IF YOU CAN.

[ahhrenata]

GO TIGERS GO 📣

@chocoarts has once again blown my mind by bringing my little steddie lines to life. I don’t even have words to describe how in awe I am of choco’s skills. The lighting, the colors, the style, EVERYTHING is just so breathtaking- I’m forever grateful and honored to collab with you 💕

Concept: I say both of us! I said a pre-s4 steddie pep rally and you specified s2 :)

Literally everything else (including Reefer Rick 🤩): @chocoarts

the bare-bones sketch i sent under the cut:

#guys it’s young Pedro as reefer Rick #my life will never be the fckn same 😍✨🤩 #the little yoda pin ✨ #y’all don’t understand when I say I laid face down trying to process this piece when choco sent it #I still keep covering my face trying to keep all the screams and emotions inside while I type this up #you’re seriously the best choco #I’m so glad I met you #collab2.0 #pineyoufools #steddie #steddie fanart #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #s2 steddie #inspired by a photo of cliff in bring it on where he’s reading at the game lol

[kaitaiga]

Commissioned via @sleepyconfusedpotato . Don’t steal or reupload.

Popping out of my break to quickly post this amazing drawing of Damien by Sleepy 🥔❤️ I AM IN LOOOOOOVEEEEE LOOK AT HIM 🤩🤩 I wonder who he’s fighting 👁️👁️🔪

I wanted angry, bloodied Damien and Sleeps absolutely DELIVERED!!! *faints*

Thank you again! 🐻❤️ Absolutely made my week!

#TALENTED BRILLIANT INCREDIBLE AMAZING SHOW STOPPING- #oh lord he looks so good I’m screaming into a void #headache? CURED. #breathe by yeat definitely inspired this hnnnnnggggg #call of duty #damien whitlock #cod oc #call of duty oc #my oc #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #military oc #sleepyconfusedpotato #kai’s task force

[generic-lab-assistant]

For the fans

#shoutout my friend #you inspired this buckaroo #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims ted #ihnmaims am #ray content

[i-heart-slashers]

You're Mine | Prologue | It's just the beginning.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A peaceful town in Indiana turns into a bloodbath when a deadly threat haunts the town. The resident teenagers are terrorized by a masked killer, which begins to tear at the fabric of an otherwise-peaceful community ending in bloody pieces of innocent lives scattered around the small town of Hawkins.

Kimberly and her friends have to navigate their lives while trying to survive the murderous Ghostface killer who seems intent on killing them all but is the killer someone they already know?…

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | character death(s), harassment, violence, murder, stalking, slasher killer, killing spree,

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.3 k

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | murder, gore, character death, violence, mentions of violent acts, home invasion and implications of eating disorder.

It's a downpour outside; thunder rolls in as lightning begins to strike, illuminating the street every now and then. The storm was showing no signs of stopping or easing up, at least.

Chrissy sits at her desk while talking on the phone with her closest friend Kimberly. They talk about the strawberry blonde's boyfriend, Jason, and his treatment of her.

The cheerleader finishes her night routine before standing up and looking at herself in the mirror. Lifting up her bed shirt, she sucks in her stomach some more until her ribs are clearly seen before giving a heavy sigh; she lets her shirt down.

"I think you just need to bite the bullet, Chris, and tell Jason it's over. How many times do you have to call me crying before you realize you're worth more than Jason Carver?" Kimberly says straight forward and bluntly over the call.

Chrissy sits back at her desk, glancing at a picture of her boyfriend she has sitting in a frame. Her mom gave it to her, but it didn't even have her in it, just Jason.

"It just seems so sad; we've been together for as long as I can remember. It feels like I'm giving up on him," Chrissy says, making excuses again as she moans sadly.

The two were school royalty, but lately, Chrissy can't help but feel more like a pawn or a trophy than a girlfriend.

"Trust me, you're not giving up on him. You're just finding your self-worth. You owe Jason nothing, and just because you've been sweethearts since middle school doesn't mean he can treat you like crap."

Kimberly's tone was very pointed and opinionated. Still, it was nothing that Chrissy hadn't already thought to herself at one point or another.

"You're right, I know you are; it just sucks. I'll call him and see if I can get him to come over. It might be better to do it in person." The cheerleader nods in determination even though Kimberly can't see her.

Chrissy bites her lip; she's readying herself to tell Jason everything. She wasn't just some pawn in his 'perfect' life or a doll he could control.

Even if her mother always pushed her to strive for perfection no matter the cost, she knew being with Jason wasn't making her happy anymore.

"Cool, if he starts acting like an asshole, call me." Kimberly's voice goes soft. "You know he'll just be a distant memory when we're in college, and all the guys will be lining up to date you. I'll be the perfect wing woman."

Chrissy giggled, placing the photo frame face down on her desk before hearing her best friend murmur as if someone else was with her. "Listen, I gotta go. Eddie's waiting, oh and he says Hi".

The strawberry blonde glances at her clock, remembering that Kimberly had agreed to help Eddie Munson study. He's already failed high school twice and was almost failing again.

That didn't bother her, she liked Eddie, but he was a bit scary for her.

"Hey Eddie," she replies, laughing when she hears said boy shouting in the background cheerily, "Bye Kimmy, I'll see you tomorrow."

Her tone is sad as she frowns, wishing she could ask her friend to come over and be her backup, but she knows deep down that Jason would probably flip if she had someone there when she told him they were breaking up.

"Yeah, well, I want details. If you can make him cry, that would be a bonus" Her friend laughs before stopping. "Everything will be okay. You've still got me. Love you, Chrissy."

"Love you, Kimmy," Chrissy clicks the phone off, wishing she could just call Kimberly back and talk with her all night like usual, but she had to 'bite the bullet.'.

She sighs, dialing another number, this one for Jason, who doesn't answer. Typical. "Jason, it's me. We need to talk. Come over when you get this message."

Chrissy placed the phone down, basking in the silence for a moment; she was home alone. Her parents had gone out for some high-class business thing at a restaurant in the town.

Pulling the curtain back, she looked out into the darkness. The phone lets out a shrill ring making Chrissy jump. Collecting herself, she guessed it was just Jason asking what she wanted this time of night. "Hello?".

"Hello, Are Mr or Mrs Cunningham home?" Chrissy sighed; it wasn't Jason, but she continued on politely. Using her 'well-mannered' tone to the person she assumes to be her parent's friend or a business, just like her mother taught her.

"No, I'm sorry they're out. Can I take a message?" The teenager turns to grab a notepad and pen. Taking messages for her parents was pretty normal to her at this point.

"Hmm, so you're home alone right now, Chrissy?" A beat passes as Chrissy freezes. Panic begins to rise in her. The voice waits patiently for her to talk.

"Who is this?" She takes another look outside. Nothing but darkness can be seen. The voice lets out a dark laugh pulling a gasp from Chrissy; she clicks the phone off, hoping they'd get bored.

The phone instantly begins to ring again.

"Hello?" Her voice is shaking, her worry growing. She racked her brain to think of anyone who would play such a horrible prank on her. Kimberly knew she was alone, but she'd never do this to her…

"Why don't you want to talk to me, Chrissy?" The voice lets out another laugh. Chrissy pulls her window shut and latches it. She begins to panic even further.

"Jason, is that you? This isn't funny."

The lights in the house turn off before a bang rings out as she lets out a small scream. The noise came from inside her house. Clutching the phone, she only just realizes that she can hear the dial tone coming from it.

She feels better now they've given up until she remembers the noise. She places the phone on her desk and walks to her door to investigate; she peeks around her doorframe.

"Hello? Who's there?" She asks into the darkness of the hall. Nothing. No one calls back; it's almost as if the place is still empty.

She turns on the light, but it doesn't come on before slowly making her way downstairs. Entering the kitchen slowly, her eyes try to adjust to the dark.

Her eyes catch a fallen broom, and she rolls her eyes. "Good job Chrissy getting scared of a broom." She picks the broom up and props it up against the counter.

Chrissy turns to return to her room, and a clash of lightning flashes through the room, alerting her to the figure standing with her in the kitchen.

"Jason? I told you to stop. You can be so childish sometimes." She walks forward to what she presumes is her boyfriend.

She tugs his shoulder to turn him around, she's ready to argue with him until he lifts a butcher knife into the air, and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Two adults walk up the pathway to their house. It's the Cunninghams. Getting to their front door, they seem confused that it's unlocked, but more than that, it's ajar.

Opening the door, they call for their daughter as lightning strikes behind them.

Mr. Cunningham tries the lights, but they don't work; Mrs. Cunningham walks into the kitchen and slips on a puddle. She screams when she notices the pool is thick and red.

They both cry out, looking for their daughter, running up the stairs. The lightning illuminating the floor shows drag marks of blood going up their once pristine white carpet.

Throwing open the door to their daughter's room, they let out a scream when the lights suddenly come on, and they see the scene in front of them.

Chrissy lay wide-eyed on her bed. Her head dangling off the foot of the mattress, her neck sliced open so deep you could see bone. Her body had been carved open like a pumpkin on Halloween.

Mr. Cunningham shouts at his wife to call the police, and as she turns around to do and shrieks at the bloody message written in Chrissy's own blood on the wall, 'if I can't have her no one can.'

#stranger things #horror #horror slashers #slashers #stranger things ghostface #ghostface #stranger things au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #female oc #stranger things female #eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #Scream #Scream Inspired

[chimielie]

what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

#WAS this inspired by the time i saw my bf in glasses and literally went to my friend’s dorm and screamed for sixteen seconds (he timed it) #well i’m not telling. that’s a secret. #oikawa: i like you #reader (visions of oikawa in that godawful plaid outfit swimming thru their head): i think even that’s hot now. i have to get a lobotomy #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tōru x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #hq!! fluff #the word fluff doesnt look real anymore

[vividgoth]

Steam should come with a warning when you try to install Disco Elysium that says "this will irrevocably change your life for the better, but you will never find anything as good as this again"

#Just finished my first playthrough and UGH #Works that both greatly inspire me and make me feel I should give up creating entirely because I will never make anything like this #SCREAMS #Anyways #disco elysium #bobo.txt

[theminecraftbee]

okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--

joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--

anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.

(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)

new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.

so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)

and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.

skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.

"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."

"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"

"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"

mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.

so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.

he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--

it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.

except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.

he looks up and there's a butterfly.

"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.

"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.

"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.

"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.

"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.

it starts to fly away.

"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."

"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.

joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.

a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"

"i'm going insane," joel says.

"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"

"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."

"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."

the butterfly vanishes.

"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."

he steps through the swarm of butterflies.

that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.

this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.

they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--

"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.

"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.

"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.

"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.

joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.

(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)

#hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #smallishsona au #THAT'S RIGHT BABY ITS THE PERSONA AU I WAS WAFFLING ABOUT #because i'm playing p3re right now this is pretty p3 inspired but also expect elements of p4 (my fav) and p5 #i. do not know enough about p1 and p2 to be using all these butterflies but FUCK IT WE BALL. #a bee fic #KIND OF I GUESS I'LL PUT THIS THERE. #anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE #because the JOKE is that joel hates every minute of being a persona protagonist #but the OTHER bit is that joel is genuinely an extremely loyal guy who would do VERY WELL as a persona protagonist #you just have to drag him there kicking and screaming #(sort of in a very. p3-esque way)