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#ghostface
inajeexe · 3 days ago
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A little Ghostface doodle~
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Even serial killer do be falling in love sometimes-
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feelin-woozy · a day ago
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When you mess with a demon like me         You'll get just what you deserve                   I'm telling you you bit off more than you can chew                             And I am every bit as bad as you've heard
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scream · 15 hours ago
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You can't run forever, Sidney.
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Shopping with the Slashers
Cw: slightly mature themes and curse words
Will Grahm:
You took will to five below with you. He’d never been to Michigan so he was unfamiliar with most of the store up there. You however were a proud Michigander and five below was one of your favourite stores. Saying you were like a kid in a candy store was a literal understatement.
Y/N: ahhhh gummy bears!
You ran off into the store, nearly pulling off wills hand as you dragged him behind you. You bounced up and down on the tip of your toes.
Y/N: William look at them, aren’t they so cu- omg they have octopi!! William!!
You shook him by his shoulders squealing in his face.
Will: I don’t think you need any sugar my pet.
He said boredly. You glared at him.
Y/N: William David Graham, you take that back or your sleeping with the dogs tonight.
Will raised his eyebrow at you. You took out your phone maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend.
Will: Who are you calling?
Y/N: You know exactly who I’m calling. Hi Dr. Lecter? Yeah it’s Y/N. Good, good how are you? I’m calling about William, you see we’re having a little dilemma. He seems to think it’s ok to deny his GIRLFRIEND, Candy on her birthday. Oh really? Yeah I’ll tell him you said so.
You smirked as you hung up the phone.
Y/N: Hannibal said you have to buy me candy or he’s not signing off on your release papers for this upcoming case.
Will: Really, blackmail?
Y/N: I learned from the best!
You smirked as Will pulled out his wallet.
Will: Happy Birthday, Dear. Now please call Hannibal back and tell him he’s uninvited to your party tonight.
You chuckled and engulfed him in a hug.
Y/N: I can’t, that would be rude
You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he rolled his in response.
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Hannibal:
You dragged Hannibal with you into Claire’s. The man was utterly disgusted by the amount of pink that accosted his eyes. This place looked like a toddlers paradise, though he couldn’t say for certain you weren’t secretly one.
Hannibal: Darling?
He asked concerned. He looked down at you to see your eyes sparkling in awe, and overwhelms aura engulfed you. He saw tears brimming at your eyes. You let out a squeak.
Hannibal: are you alright?
You simply nodded. Starring you in the face was the cutest Hello Kitty plush you’d ever seen. She looked like candy floss covered in sprinkles, and it made your heart ache. You sprinted across the store leaving Hannibal in your dust. You tried to grab her off the shelf but you were too short. You turned to Hannibal with a pout.
Y/N: please?
Hannibal smirked.
Hannibal: please what?
Y/N: Kitty!
You squealed at him, pointing excitedly at it.
Y/N: I need her!
Hannibal: I assure you my love, this is certainly not a need.
Y/N: But-
Hannibal: You’re far too old for toys my dear.
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes and you were about to throw a tantrum. Hannibal said no to you often but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You got an idea, standing on your tippy toes and leaning into his ear.
Y/N: please daddy?
You knew this would break him. Hannibal could never say no to you when you were in little space. He cherished you in all forms, but you innocence consumed him. He wanted nothing more than to give you the world when you’re were like this.
Hannibal: are you going to behave?
Y/N: yes daddy!
With that Hannibal pulled out his wallet and grabbed the stuffie from the shelf. He shook his head, knowing full well Will would judge him for caving so easily. But he couldn’t help it, you were his baby.
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Thomas:
Thomas didn’t like to stray far from home, he knew he would get weird looks for his mask and his hulking frame. You had surprised Tommy this morning with a hand made mask of your own. You had learned to make paper masks a few months back, but had hidden it from Thomas out of fear he’d find your work inferior. You made him a human looking mask and presented it to him with a smile. He looked at it like it was the most precious thing in the world, that was until your next surprise. You pulled out a mask of your own, a pin up doll with bunny ears. When you put it on Thomas’s world stopped.
Y/N: come on baby, the farmers market is waiting!
You tried to coax him out of his daze. You wanted to get fresh fruit to bake Luna Mae a pie for Mother’s Day and Thomas had agreed to go with you. You held hands as you skipped through the halls of the garden area. People were giving you weird looks which didn’t go unnoticed by Thomas, he simply held you closer to his frame. He didn’t trust the intentions of the other humans.
Y/N: ooo baby look! Mulberries! These will be perfect for mamma!
He coped at you. Smiling so wide behind his mask. He absolutely adored how much love you showed to him and his family. You grabbed your wallet and went to buy the berries. Thomas watched as you chatted up the seller and she complimented your “costumes” asking what you were doing for the night. You went to make up a fake story for your unusual attire when another shopper interrupted you.
Stranger: Nice masks, what did you two just rob a bank?
The man shouted from a few stands over, catching your attention. Thomas’s full attention was now on him, trying to calculate how not to make this scene any worse. You were ready to ignore him when he shouted again.
Stranger: hey doll face I’m talking to you!
The stranger was significantly closer now, all up in your personal space. Thomas’s fist began to turn white as he clenched them so hard. The lady selling you the mulberries gave you a sympathetic smile and you waved her off as she went to help the next costumer. You began to walk back toward Thomas as you just wanted to get out of there.
Stranger: don’t ignore me you slut!
You could now clearly tell the man was drunk as he was slurring his words. This was the final straw. Nobody talked to Thomas’s Bunny like that! Normally he’d just kill the man, but he knew this was your favourite place to shop and he didn’t want you getting banned. Without a single word, Thomas effortlessly scooped you up in his arms, carful not to make you drop your berries and began to walk off. As you two made it back to the car he wouldn’t put you down.
Y/N: Tommy, my love, you can put me down now. I’m ok, I promise!
Thomas shook his head, cradling you closer. You could tell he was genuinely upset. You let out a light chuckle, smiling out how adorable he was. You wiggled one arm free, cradling his face in your palm.
Y/N: I think you look very handsome in this mask. But I kinda wanna go home and put your regular one back on. I miss looking at your beautiful face.
With that Thomas let you down, opening the door to your side of the car. He sat in the passenger seat, holding the berries in his hand, using his other hand to rub your thigh lovingly as you drove home. Thomas was very proud of how you handled yourself today and he was gonna show you just how happy he was when you got home.
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Stu:
Stu and you went to a small black owned store at the edge of town. Prom was coming up and you’d actually convinced him to go. You see, he was gonna blow it off and just stay home and watch movies but you lured him in with the promise of you in a pretty dress. And maybe you promised you’d let him take it off of you at the end of the night. Stu followed behind you, making quips about how stupid the frilly dresses look. He held up a dress to you.
Stu: Babe look! They skinned big bird!
You rolled your eyes at his antics, but chuckled none the less, simply glad he was finding a way to enjoy yourself. The nice old lady who owned the shop came by to help you.
Owner: are you looking for anything in particular?
Before you could tell her you were just looking, Stu cut you off.
Stu: Yeah! Something to make my baby look hot!
You punched him in the arm, giving him a glare. You wanted to apologise but were surprised when you saw a smile on her face.
Owner: I suppose it wouldn’t be that hard, she’s already very beautiful.
Y/N: You’re too kind. Please pay no mind to him, he’s an idiot. A lovable one, but still an idiot.
For the rest of the evening Stu followed you around like some lovesick puppy. He kept his compliment PG in front of the store owner, but you loved watching him squirm. You began to get exhausted thinking you’d never find the right dress until the shop owner pulled you to the side.
Owner: I can tell your getting discouraged. But I promise we’ll find the right dress for you. I do have this one dress in the back, my old prom dress, but most people don’t really like the style anymore. Want to try it on?
You nodded enthusiastically. You were never one to get into the popular things. Every dress you tried on tonight made you feel like a dime a dozen whore, not that you had anything against them, it just wasn’t what you were going for. Stu sat there twiddling his thumbs, trying his best to be there for you.
Stu: Babe how much longer?
Y/N: Just a minute!
 You we’re so nervous you didn’t even look in the mirror. The shop owner came in and gasped. You thought it was a bad gasp and frowned, but she quickly reassured you. She tied your hair up in a loose updo, and she put an old hair pin in your hair. You felt self conscious but she ushered you out of the fitting room infront of your boyfriend. You wanted to cry when Stu dropped his bag of Cheetos. He quickly noted your mood and jumped up to hug you. Stu pulled you tight and whispered in your ear.
Stu: You have never looked more stunning. If this is half of what you’re going to look like on our wedding day then I will wait and watch you try on dresses until we’re old and grey.
You blushed so hard you through your head might explode. Stu wanted to marry you? He wanted to be yours forever? He thought you were beautiful? This dress was magical. Stu took your arm and spun you around admiring your form. He took a moment to dip you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. He pulled away and noticed the shop owner cooing at the two of you.
Stu: How much for the dress?
Owner: Please, its on the house! You two kids enjoy your prom!
You had never been happier in your entire life. When you finally got a look of yourself in this dress you almost cried. You were so amazed that you were able to look this good for your boyfriend, you psychotic soulmate. He was well behaved today and would definitely be rewarded for it!
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Billy:
Billy and you strolled into the video store like you did many weekends. You followed behind him and watched as he browsed the horror section. You knew he was gonna pick out something to try and scare you, and honestly you weren’t feeling up for it this week. You wandered off into the romance section and took a look around. Your eyes fell upon a dvd, Twilight. It was an absolute classic and you were certain Billy had never seen it before. You concocted a plan on your head. You waltzed back over to your boyfriend, dvd hidden behind your back.
Y/N: Billy?
You gave him your best puppy eyes. He didn’t even bother to look up at you, and this just made you feel more determined.
Y/N: Puppy?
At this his eyes shot straight down at you. He raised an eyebrow at your sudden use of the pet name. You excitedly shoved the movie in his face and he took it from your hands.
Billy: No
Y/N: But-
Billy: I said no. We’re not watching this bullshit, we’re watching My Bloody Valentine.
You grumbled. My Bloody Valentine didn’t even sound that interesting. Vampires were much cooler and you’d prove it.
Y/N: But it’s got vampires!
Billy smirked down at you, wanting to see where you’d go with this.
Billy: Yeah, lame ones that sparkle. Even Randy wouldn’t watch this crap.
Y/N: Since when do you take movie advise from Randy?
Billy looked offended, he already hand plans to punish you for the comment. You knew he wouldn’t crack so you pulled out the big guns. You stood on your tippy toes to whisper something to him.
Y/N: if you watch this with me, I’ll dress up like a vampire and let you do whatever you want with me. I promise I’ll try to go the whole night without using our safe word.
At this he cracked. A whole night with his sexy girlfriend dressed up like a vampire. He could do whatever he wanted to you? The gears in that beautiful brain of his began to spin wildly.
Billy: Fine, well watch the damn vampire movie.
Y/N: Yea!
It was his turn to whisper in your ear.
Billy: but if you tell anyone about this I swear to god I’ll kill you.
You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you weren’t willing to find out. You were just happy you got your way, and you had something new to try in the bedroom.
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Billy Lenz:
Billy never wanted to leave the attic. But sometimes he just couldn’t say no to you. You applied your makeup, and looked impeccable. You turned to your boyfriend with an innocent smile.
Y/N: baby I’m gonna put some foundation on you now. It might now be your exact shade but it should help to hide your jaundice. That way no one will try to say anything to you.
He loved the way you looked out for him. He knew better than to think you were ashamed of the way he looked. In fact, you loved everything about him, especially his sickly, yellowed skin. You would leave gentle kisses all over his body to remind him of such. When you finished you smiled at him. You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
Y/N: Ready?
He nodded. He wasn’t used to people actually being able to see him and it made him incredibly self conscious. But you had asked him to come with you today and said it was important, and he was willing to do anything for you. When you got to the mall you dragged him passed several stores and he just starred in confusion. Why were there so many and why did they all have such odd names. He looked up as you stopped in front of a store called Spencer’s.
As you dragged him around he looked at the many things around him. He was both amazed by the variety, but incredibly bored by the content.
Billy: Pretty Piggy said this was important 
He reminded you. You shushed him.
Y/N: Kitten, you know better than to question me. Have I ever steered you wrong?
He shook his head no. You smiled at how flustered he got when you used pet names back at him. But you were his filthy, Pretty Piggy, and he was you vicious little kitten. It was fun being taller than him, you always used this to your advantage when it came to taming your man. You smirked and grabbed his hand, walking him to the back of the store. That’s when you saw his eyes light up. You leaned down to look him in the eyes, tipping his chin up to look at you.
Y/N: Now kitten, since you’ve been such a brave boy coming outside with me today, I’m gonna let you pick out some toys ok?
Billy looked at you with wide eyes.
Billy: Piggy wants me to pick?
You gave him a nod and watched as he ran around looking at everything in excitement. You crossed your arms over your chest and smirked, knowing this would make your boyfriend more open to leaving the house with you in the future. Besides, you trusted you kitten to pick stuff that would please you. And seeing him this happy was the best sight in the world.
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An: hey guys, so it’s been a rough few days. Recently there was a shooting at my old high school and 4 kids lost their lives. So I apologise for not having written much lately, but writing this made me feel better. Please keep these families in your thoughts, love you all 🥰
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ghosttease · a day ago
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Will You?
Part 2: Your Ghosts
Poly!Ghostface x AFAB!Reader. Enemies to lovers. Eventual Smut.
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“Oh, so slowly he stalks forward, one gloved hand coming up to wipe crimson away from the knife in a taunt so self-assured it lights an unexpected fire in your stomach. Unfortunately for you, the only way out of this is to go through him.”    
A/N: Hi, hi, hi! Despite everything I am here, and I bring you this! Chapter two, wowee! I hope ya’ll enjoy it. It’s a pretty rough one in terms of content, just fyi. Next chapter comes the real good stuff :) hah
Word count: 5,463
Warnings: Uhhh graphic violence. Lots of blood. Knives are involved. Name calling and also degradation. They’re literally trying to kill you in this one so just like. Beware! Stu fucks with you. Very brief mentions of sex bc Billy is ridiculous lol. Romanticizing things that definitely shouldn’t be romanticized. Reader makes bad decisions. And? Randy being a (lovable) dumbass.
Chapter 1
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It’s been a terribly dead shift at Woodsboro Video tonight, and you can’t seem to figure out why.  
Randy’s certainly been bouncing his crazy theories off of you as to where the usual pre-weekend crowd could be. He keeps popping up at the most random of times to go on some long-winded rant, leaning over you as you do your crossword puzzle in between ringing out the occasional customer. At first, it was just about how obviously none of the movies that came out this week were good enough for anyone to check out, and to that, you had shrugged and nodded along in agreement. You were the one who stocked the “New Releases” wall when you came in today, and you’re not sure you’d be able to remember a single title even if it could save your life.  
His theories soon devolved into the half-witted nonsense you’ve come to know and love about him. He sounded genuinely worried for a second as he went on and on about how there was probably a fifty-car pile-up slash explosion somewhere that left your neck of the woods inaccessible. The look on his face when he turned to gaze out the window, eyes off in the general direction of the highway like he’d spot a giant mushroom cloud in the distance, was enough to have you snort so loud that you’re sure the one, annoying drunk guy in the back could hear it.  
Speaking of.  
"God, can you believe that asshole?”  
The sound of Randy’s voice is heard right before the rattling of the front doors slamming shut, and you look up just in time to see him come around the counter. This is the most annoyed you think you’ve ever seen him, and you find yourself missing the happy little grin he usually sports around closing time. Long since has it been replaced with an irritated frown, brought upon by the evening’s last patron.  
This guy just would not leave no matter your efforts to get him out. Even after the five-minute announcement was made (by Randy, again, in the bitchiest tone you’ve ever heard), he continued to stagger around the aisles—not a care in the world. You’re so sure he was drunk, not only by his behavior but also by how he could not feel the absolute daggers the two of you were glaring at him.  
If you could will yourself to shoot lasers from your eyes, you would have.  
Your ever so gracious co-worker enlisted you in cleaning the restrooms while he took care of the guy, and you’d only just come back from your task a few moments prior, waiting patiently by the register area as you watched him corral the drunken bastard toward the front. You’d laughed when you saw him, arms waving in exaggerated movements as he recited the time so the dude would finally take a hint. He’d even propped the doors open on the off chance the drunkard would get confused at the mere concept of pushing them open himself.  
“What the hell was with him, anyway?” You ask, tone equally as annoyed as you shift your weight, leaning your hip into the counter. As he gets closer, Randy reaches out his palm and curls his fingers in a little gimme motion, and you’re quick to drop your set of work keys into it.  
“I don’t even know—fuck customers, man! We should start locking the doors and hunting them for sport once it’s past ten.” He grumbles, and you can tell that all of this frustration has gotten him flustered by the way he tries (and fails) to clip your set back onto the large collection of keys attached to the belt loop on his khakis. You bite your lip to keep yourself from giggling as he curses, the sound of jingling increasing in volume with each missed attempt. The fourth time’s the charm. “I can’t wait to go home.”  
“You and me both.” You sigh dreamily at the mention of leaving, already starting to think of the hot date you’ve got with your bathtub and that book you’ve been meaning to make time for.  
It’s the first Friday of the month, which means it’s finally your turn to get the weekend off—if no one else decides to call off, that is.  
“Thanks for coming in tonight, by the way. I can’t believe Jean called out, again.”
“Yeah, what a wretched bitch.” He deadpans and for a second you think he’s serious, but then he’s got on that signature dumbass grin that you’ve missed so much. Annoyed frown Randy is not nearly as much fun as normal Randy, that’s for sure. “It’s all good! You know I’d never miss a chance to work with my favorite associate.”  
He drags out the word “favorite” for so long that you snort out a sheepish, “Aww, you!”  
By no you’ve remembered you actually have things to do, and you push yourself away from the counter to check the garbage bins. It’s the last thing on your cleaning checklist before you can finally move on to the more thrilling stuff—like organizing the clearance section before you sit in the back and wait for Randy to finish counting the safe.  
“I know you would have missed me, anyway.” He continues his teasing as he trails along behind you, leaning against the entrance window in a way that’s supposed to be smooth, but you’re way too busy checking the bin by the doors to notice. You sigh in relief when you see it’s not even half full. “Besides, we both know the real reason you called me. Just can’t go a single day without seeing this pretty face of mine, huh?”  
“Hah! You’re so right.” With a short laugh, your head snaps to him, giddy with the knowledge that you won’t be taking the garbage out back tonight. The way he’s propped up on the glass is ridiculous, hand resting on his hip as he sends a faux demure look your way. Despite all of the jokes, you genuinely do appreciate his help. This stupid virgin has gotten you through some of the worst work-related experiences of your life.  
Your gaze softens.  
“What would I have done without you tonight, Dee?”  
Even in the dim lighting, you can see the way he flushes from your comment, obviously not expecting a bit of sincerity in between all of the humor. In a very Randy move, he makes a funny noise to deflect and comes away from his pose to nudge your shoulder with his knuckles. “Crumble under the immense pressure surely. They would have found you curled up on the floor in hysterics in the morning—probably in a puddle of your own bodily fluids.”  
“You’re such an idiot.” You laugh, more endeared than anything else. You’re too busy gazing outside to put any malice behind it anyway, eyes squinting as you lean in closer to the glass. It’s almost like you can’t believe what you’re seeing.  
You sigh so hard that Randy can see your chest deflate from behind, and when he asks what’s wrong your hands motion towards the parking lot for emphasis. His eyes follow your line of sight, and for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, you share an annoyed glance. You’re not even disappointed at this point, really, just tired.  
All the way on the other end of the parking lot, almost hidden by shadow are a couple of shopping carts that unmistakably belong to Woodsboro Video. They’re all together in a cluster of obnoxious neon, almost like someone decided to be polite enough to gather them for you, but didn’t want to bother to actually bring them back into the store.  
“We could just leave them.” Randy offers kindly, even though you’re already shaking your head. You wish you hadn’t noticed them out there, but now that you have it’ll be all you can think about. Your boss will definitely give you guys a hard time if he finds them out there in the morning, anyway.  
What’s a little late-night walk across the parking lot going to hurt, anyway?  
“I’ll save us the lecture.” You mutter, turning just enough to shoot him a smile from over your shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. Go finish your duties, Mr. Management. I’ve got this.  
“You sure?” He sounds like he might protest, but your hand is already wrapping itself around the handle and opening the door. Randy’s a sweetheart and all, but you’d honestly rather get everything finished up and get out before midnight rolls around. You’ve been stuck here long enough.  
“I think I can handle a few shopping carts.” Your smile turns into a reassuring little grin, finger poking him in the chest and then moving to point toward the back of the store. “Now, go! Do your duties so we can blow this popsicle stand.”  
“Alright, alright.” He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in a dramatic fashion, but thankfully does as you say. “Just don’t get kidnapped and murdered on the clock. It wouldn’t be good for my reputation.”  
It takes everything in you not to chase after him before he gets too far away, and honestly, it’s kind of impressive how his laughter fades only slightly as the door closes behind you.  
The night air is pleasantly warm against your chilled skin.  
For some reason, the A.C. inside of the store never seems to shut off, and one of the vents just so happens to be positioned directly above the register area. This meant the last eight hours or so of your life was spent standing under a gust of wind fit for a yeti, and of course, your standard-issue work attire is irritatingly thin. Not even your favorite sweater over top is defense enough, and most days you find yourself leaving work with stiffened limbs and permanent goosebumps.  
The impact of your steps creates an eerie echo across the empty parking lot, and if you hadn’t done this at least a hundred times before you’d probably be a little creeped out by the way it emphasizes how truly alone you are out here. By now the other stores in the plaza have been closed for nearly two hours, and there’s only a second, equally as empty lot on the other side of the shrubbery that used to belong to a drug store.  
You swear you can’t even hear anyone on the roads. Maybe Randy was right about that pile-up after all.  
You take your time gathering the carts together in hopes that it’ll kill a bit of time. The clashing of metal is almost deafening against the silence, and you wince each time the sound grates against your ears. Making sure to loop each of the seat straps together so they don’t come apart on your way back, you give them a hard tug for good measure.  
Just after one particularly loud crash, you swear there’s a different kind of noise. It’s a rustling-- like the bushes caught a soft breeze-- and if it weren’t for the small crunching sound afterward, you’d probably write it off as such.  
You’re quick to turn, eyes flicking back and forth along the unkempt shrubbery as if at any moment something is going to jump out and grab at you. You halt in a way that only comes with the sudden onset of instinctual panic, the juxtaposition of mood enough to make your head spin, jaw set, and palms becoming clammy in record time.  
The mere concept that you’re not as alone as you previously thought has your stomach turning.  
It’s the rational part of your mind, the part that tells you that it’s probably just a raccoon or something, that keeps you from scurrying off to safety and leaving the damn carts for someone else to take care of, and when nothing jumps out at you— when no ghost faced mask comes peeping up over the brush— you decide that whatever you heard was just your mind playing tricks on you.  
Despite this decision, you do not take your time as you gather up the last cart. Paranoia begins to make your motor skills clumsy, fingers fumbling to tie it to the rest of the group while you try to ignore any movement you think you see out of the corner of your eyes.  
Who would have thought Woodsboro Video would ever become a beacon of hope for you at a time like this?  
You keep the carts behind you to give yourself some sense of security, sweaty hands clutching the basket side for dear life as you make your way back. The nauseous feeling in your tummy never goes away no matter how much the distance between you and the store shortens.  
Maybe you’d feel better if the carts’ wheels would stop getting caught on things. Every half dozen steps or so there’s a snag and you have to give them a slight tug to get them back on track. It happens a good four or five times before you start to get annoyed, curses of increasing severity escaping you with every abrupt stop.  
Almost there.  
This time when the carts snag it almost sends you backward. You turn to catch yourself, hips banging hard while you bend over at the waist in an embarrassing display that makes you glad Randy wasn’t here to be a witness. The groan you let out is equal parts pained and frustrated. Your hand rubs at your lower stomach to try and soothe away the throbbing ache that’s radiating there, and you know that you’re probably going to be sporting a nasty bruise. Thankfully the pain subsides soon enough because you’re entirely unprepared for what meets you when you straighten out of your slouched position.  
What you’re entirely unprepared for is that this time, when your eyes catch movement, it’s no longer in your periphery.  
No.  
It’s only about six feet in front of you, on the other side of your shopping cart barrier.  
Fortunately for Stu, your first instinct has always been to freeze.  
To be honest, he’s not sure he’s ever been this fucking thrilled before. The look on your face right now is priceless, and he so wishes he’d brought his camera with him this time so he could snap a photo. He’s obsessed with the way your mouth pops open when you focus in on him, how your wide, doe eyes become filled with such surprised horror, and how he can practically hear the cogs turning in all that empty space you’ve got between your ears. You’re a crier and he knows that by now—can already see the tears welling up along your lash line as you process the situation.  
As you process that you truly haven’t been alone this entire time. It’s all just perfect-- Absolutely perfect!  
One gloved hand leaves the handle of the shopping cart to send a wave, so slow and mocking as he grins giddily behind his mask. He drags it out with one purpose only. He wants your brain to catch up—wants you to be present for all of the terrible things that are about to happen. They’re going to have so much fun with you, and he can’t say you don’t deserve it.  
Him and Billy? They’re going to make you wish you let them kill you the first time.  
Unfortunately for Stu, your second instinct is flight, and you always seem to know what you have to do to get away. This particularly ingenious escape plan involves grabbing ahold of the carts between you and shoving them forward as hard as your adrenaline-riddled body physically can. You pivot quickly, not even giving yourself time to see if it lands right, only taking the loud “oof” that sounds behind you as a good sign as you book it the rest of the way across the parking lot.  
He’s here, your brain screams the obvious at you on repeat. He’s here. He’s been waiting here for God knows how long, and for what? Just to fuck with you?  
Hours of being on your feet have left you sore and tired, and whatever lead the blow gave you is quickly diminished by a clumsy little slip up on some loose cement. His footsteps only get closer as you near the front door, and you know from experience that he’s a lot faster than you even on your best day. It’s a thought that has you going numb with bone-chilling fear, the bottom of your sneakers dragging along the ground beneath when he reaches out a long arm and grabs ahold of your stupid, giant cardigan.  
You both go down hard.  
Your hands and knees scrape against the pavement so painfully that it knocks the wind out of you, but you still do everything you can to ignore the searing pain and will yourself to flip around. The way you turn in combination with how he’s holding you somehow rips the cardigan away from your shoulders, and you waste no time, shuffling back on your ass and kicking out your legs so rapidly that his grabby hands can’t get a grip.  
If you weren’t fighting for your life, it might occur to you how childish the both of you look right now.  
The loud hammering of your pulse against your eardrums is the only thing you hear, keeping you oblivious to the very recognizable voice that comes out from behind the mask. “Easy, easy!” He’s chanting low as he finally gets ahold of one of your ankles and yanks. Your burning palms scream at you as you crawl back on them, tears beginning to blur your vision despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. He’s on his knees and yet he still looms over you.  
You most certainly hear his pained scream when he gets just close enough for you to slam your heel right in the middle of the ghost mask staring down at you, and you don’t know why—you really don’t-- but for some reason you find yourself giving a taunting, albeit teary “Ha!” as he curls inward and clutches at his face with both hands.  
You get to your feet and scramble the rest of the way to the door in a blind panic. You honestly don’t even remember opening it. One second, you’re outside, and the next you’re slamming the door in his face, having to use your full body weight and still struggling to keep it closed as you turn the lock with an audible clunk.  
The door rattles violently as he tries to force it open, and for a second you worry that he’ll succeed. Thankfully, it holds steady, and soon enough he has to admit defeat because you both know the truth.  
You’ve won.  
Again.  
Your attacker stays poised for action on the other side of the glass like a snake, tense, broad shoulders rising and falling sharply with each ragged breath. You’re panting just as hard as you stand there, eyes locked with the white mask as it stares right back down at you.  
Something strange happens.  
Your hands make fists at your sides, nails digging into the tender flesh of your palms so hard that they’re shaking, and somewhere far off you can hear the dull dripping of your blood as it splashes against the carpet. Between your stuttered puffs of air, your lips begin to twitch upwards. Somehow you don’t notice, but Stu certainly does.  
The tilt of his head can be read as almost curious as he watches you.  
You. The victim who was just scrambling for your life with tear-stained cheeks and unadulterated horror in your eyes are not just smiling at him. No, as if that wouldn’t be weird enough, you’re grinning at him.  It’s a grin so elated, so thrilled, and maybe even a little challenging enough that he’s half-convinced you’re going to tell him you had a great time.  
For whatever reason, even despite his loss.  
Stu finds himself smiling behind his mask, too.  
--  
You should probably call the police.
You finally get the feeling back in your legs enough to back away from the glass a few moments later. You can feel his eyes on you long after you turn away, burning a hole in your back as you make your way toward the front desk to pick up the phone. Your hands shake as you reach out to dial, the dial tone too loud in your right ear as you prop it against your shoulder.  
It isn’t the blur of black and white coming toward you that stops you from pressing down on the 9 key for a second time. It’s the punch in your side that does—that has you gasping out and dropping the phone to steady yourself on the countertop. It dangles uselessly off the side of the work desk from its wire before the whole thing comes clattering to the floor, and you swear your stomach goes down with it.  
It doesn’t even really hurt at first.  
You don’t even register that you’ve been fucking stabbed until you look down and see the blood just beginning to seep through your stupid, thin polo shirt. Well, and then the huge knife just about hilt deep inside your guts. Your hand looks pathetic as it curls around the forearm of your attacker, unfocused eyes zeroing in on another mask, the same style but maybe shaped just a tad different, leaning in so close you can feel his breath against your cheek as it whistles through the small hole in the nose.  
It’s definitely a shock to you that there would be a second killer, but when you stop to think about how the dude seemed to get places faster than you thought possible last time, it all starts coming together. Oh, and you know what really is more of a shock to you at this moment?  
“You fucking--” A pause as you wet your lips. Your tongue feels like sandpaper against the sensitive skin of your mouth, “stabbed me.”  
You notice how hot his skin is even through the layers of his costume, and then how the muscles in his forearm relax beneath your digits, only to tighten again as he switches his grip on his weapon to give it a slow pull. The sensation of the knife retreating from your body is just as weird. It’s just cold—none of the pain hitting you yet so all you can feel is the cool metal as it glides against your insides. Your wobbly legs bring you backward on their own accord, hand releasing its hold on him to press down instinctually on your wound as if your insides would come spilling out if you didn’t.  
Your second ghost lunges at you again, so impossibly fast to your now sluggish brain that he easily slashes through the soft flesh of your upper arm when you move to shield yourself. Your heart constricts in your chest as you trip in your hurry to get away, stumbling into the display you’d set up only an hour prior and sending tapes flying in every direction. You narrowly miss another jab to your abdomen by jumping to the side, your blood-soaked hands latching onto the display to keep yourself from falling to the ground. You know that if you end up on the floor, he wouldn’t be fumbling to get ahold of you like the other guy. No, if you fall with this one there would be no getting back up.  
You can see it in the way he carries himself—wound tight and ready to strike at any opening he sees. Every movement he makes is specifically intended to do as much damage to you as he can, and it’s terrifying. You can hear it in his breathing too, labored and intense and only getting louder with each pass of his weapon across your flesh.  
The rage coming off of him is palpable, and honestly, you think you prefer the other guy.  
You let him get close enough to take one more slice at you just for the chance of a distraction, a cry escaping your lips as you use all of your weight to push the tall, cardboard display over and down onto him. You know it can’t do much damage, but here’s hoping it’ll buy you enough time to get to the storeroom before he can catch you.  
His responding shout quickly turns into a growl so animalistic that it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You can hear him struggling to get out of his VHS tape grave as you weave through the aisles, and you almost regret fighting back when you think of the possibility of making him angrier. Part of you wishes you knew why he’s so angry with you in the first place—what you did to make him so violent, so desperate to take your life.  
Your bloodied body hits the storeroom door with a wet splat, and you don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice when you call out because it’s not your voice. Your voice isn’t this bloodcurdling. Your voice isn’t this feral.  
“Randy!” You scream when the doorknob catches in a way that lets you know it’s been locked, fists slamming into the wood so hard that they leave imprints amongst the grain.  “Randy, you dumb fuck! Open the door!”  
Your attempts are futile and you know it. Anyone who’s ever worked with Randy during a closing shift knows that the little fucker always wears headphones when he’s counting the safe. A nuclear bomb could go off out here, and he’d be oblivious. He’s probably going to be back there dancing to Wham! while this psycho strings your innards across the ceiling like fairy lights.  
Speaking of said psycho, the clattering of merchandise stops all at once, soon replaced with a thump of boots against carpet that only becomes louder the more you stand there, quickly reminding you that there’s no time for this. You’re only getting weaker—fatigue setting in as the adrenaline begins to dissipate and you lose more and more blood from your injuries.  
“Think, think, think!” You chant quietly to yourself, forehead conking against the door like you can knock some sort of brilliant plan right out of your ear. A decision has to be made fast or you really are going to be found dead in a god-forsaken rental store, all because your coworker can’t seem to follow the rules for two damn seconds. You think you’ll come back as a ghost just to make sure Randy gets extra fired for this one.  
Your eyes snap open.  
The fire alarm!  
And, now you’re running again. It’s not far away, but you’ve wasted so much time thinking that he’s already coming to meet you when you pass by— fucker hops clean over the entire rack of romantic comedies just to get another slash at you. By God does it hurt this time, a feeling akin to an electric shock shooting across your spine. He’s so hot on your heels that you have to knock over an entire row of shelves just to put a bit of distance between the two of you.  
You sincerely hope that the Godzilla VHS he took to the cranium hurts like a bitch.  
You’re pulling the fire alarm down just as he rounds the corner—the room exploding in a combination of light and sound so harsh that you have to cover your ears, your eyes squeezing shut without your permission.  
They re-open just in time for you to see that he’s caught up with you again, and it stops you in your tracks. He’s got you cornered.  
There’s no doubt in Billy’s mind that he’s won this time. Your stupid little plan doesn’t matter, and the look in your eyes tells him that even someone as dimwitted as you can see it. Sure, help might be on the way, but how will they get here in time to stop him from giving you what you truly deserve? You’ll be strung up and gutted long before those idiots come peeling into the parking lot, and he can promise you that.
Oh, so slowly he stalks forward, one gloved hand coming up to wipe crimson away from the knife in a taunt so self-assured it lights an unexpected fire in your stomach. Unfortunately for you, the only way out of this is to go through him.  
Fortunately for you though, your second instinct is flight-- and you always seem to know what you have to do to get away.  
Damned if he isn’t just a tad surprised when you come barreling toward him at top speed.  
Billy barely has the time to brace himself before your full weight slams into him. You use every ounce of the momentum you’ve built to knock him into his back. His head jerks back on his neck and bounces off the carpet so hard that he goes limp, and there’s no way in your mind he’s not knocked out cold. You’re so close to him now that you can hear him moan blearily, ear pressed right up against his mouth behind the smooth, cold rubber.  
You can feel just how big the knife is now that you’ve got it grasped in your palm, and it slices deep into your already torn skin as you twist it out and away from his limp hand. The scream you let out against his mask makes his ears ring worse than the impact to the floor did, and for some reason, he can’t even force himself to fight with you as you throw his weapon off to the side. You’re too tired to take note of where it lands.  
Once again, his victory has been made yours.  
The room begins to spin now, for the both of you. All you can do is lie against him for a long moment, the length of your body flush along his in a way that makes Billy’s chest hitch strangely. In the back of his mind, beyond all of the mess, it registers that every square inch that’s pressed against him seems to fit so perfectly. You’re so warm. Your blood is so warm as it seeps through his costume, his clothes, his skin.
There’s a very brief flash in his mind. An image of you above him in an entirely different context—writhing and panting and calling his name. Your warm, soft flesh molded against his own, heating him to his very core.  
Your hands, weak as they settle on either side of his head, brace you as you struggle to lift up on shaky arms. It takes you so many tries that Billy starts keeping a counter, and all the while you don’t know that he’s just lying there.  
Watching.  
His stomach churns with nausea, hands fisting at his sides as he glares up at your strained face through his disguise. It was like a switch was flipped within him the very second that knife left his hands—blinding hot, determined rage fizzling out into hopeless disbelief. But then, there was something else.  
When the truth finally hits, it hits hard.  
--  
The storeroom door swings open not seconds after you begin to crawl away, and when Randy’s confused face comes popping up over the racks you swear you could kiss him.  
“Oh, my god.” The way his expression turns to absolute horror when he finally spots you, on your hands and knees in aisle ten, is something you wish you never had to see.  
“Jesus fucking Christ!” He screeches over the sound of the fire alarm, moving faster than you’ve ever seen him as he rushes down the narrow aisles and drops to his knees before you. You fall into his arms with a sob of relief so powerful that you feel your blood gush from beneath your shirt. He’s almost too quick to notice, reaches out his hand to try and stifle the flow as you babble incoherently into the crook of his neck.  
“He’s over there.” Is all you can get out, over and over as he tries his best to understand you, and when words don’t do the trick, you sling your arm out to point. Your face leaves its place against his shoulder to look toward where you remember leaving your unconscious attacker, and your next sob cuts short in your throat.
It’s not even a minute later when the fire trucks come peeling into the parking lot, but you know it doesn’t matter.
Your ghosts are long gone, and you’re out cold. ~~~ Tag list babes: @corvidcoreofficial @thecrazytealady @slasherbucky @stcrrjoon @acethecardsblog @puppykitt​ (hopefully i got everyone! If i missed you, or you’d also like to be tagged in the next part please let me know! Thanks for being so awesome.)
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judith-lore90 · 2 days ago
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Current wip ⚠️
There’s a cosplayer on tiktok and good lord that man is a menace 😩😩
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msookyspooky · 2 days ago
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  Sequels Suck
Part 11
word count: 4,479
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You sat in a hospital waiting room while Derek got examined in a room 15 feet away.  You could see him sitting on the bed. It had been a good two or three hours since the attack. It would be daylight in an hour or so. Dewey was with him in the doorway while you, Randy and Hallie all waited. Mickey came out after the detectives interrogated him. 
"Miss McDaniel. Could you come with us please?" 
Hallie looked a bit apprehensive and Mickey placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "Don't worry, Hal. Easiest interrogation of my criminal life." Hallie nodded as she fiddled with her necklace and followed the detectives.
Mickey sat beside you while Randy sat on the other side. "How are you holding up?" He asked you, leaning back in his seat to turn towards you. 
You frowned and glanced over at Mickey. "As best as I can... That poor girl." 
"Yeah, it's crazy." Mickey mumbled with a heavy sigh. 
"...I should have never came here to Windsor." 
Randy turned to you in his seat. "Hey, this is not your fault. The killer could be after me too. Or any of us." 
You gave a humorless smile while shaking your head. "No...No, I know for a fact they're after me." You rolled your lips and blinked up at the ceiling with a shaky breath. "The target was Sid...Now, it's me." 
Randy shook his head. "YN, if that was the case; why Maureen or Phil or Cici?" 
"...To taunt me." 
Mickey shook his head with a small smile. "Hey, no one blames you. We're here for you. Need anything; say the word and we're there." 
"Derek got hurt because of me. He could have been killed-" 
Randy corrected you. "Derek got hurt because he went back into the house without a weapon. Not because of you." 
Mickey added. "And he wasn't killed. He's fine, he just needs to realize the 90s is no time to play hero. I mean, why would he go back in that house anyway?" 
Randy's eyes shot up to Mickey at that comment. Some idea whirling in his mind as you rested your head in your hand. Your voice was hoarse as you spoke to Mickey. "...Do you mind grabbing us a coffee? I need to talk to Randy." 
Mickey nodded as he got up. "Sure. Sure, no problem. Any special order?" 
You smiled and shook your head. Randy added. "Cream and sugar...You know what, just bring a few packets back." 
You both watched Mickey go through the doors as Randy quickly turned to you, resting a hand on your knee. "YN, look at me." You did so as he stared intently into your eyes, keeping his voice low. "We're gonna catch whoever this is...If we're dealing with a sequel; it's always someone you know. And it still might not involve-" 
"Randy, for god sakes just stop. Okay, stop and accept we're involved again." 
He sighed but didn't argue. 
You couldn't help giving a humorless laugh as tears pricked your eyes. "It's definitely someone we know. Both of us. And they are so pissed at me that they aren't going to stop until everyone I know is dead." 
Randy tilted his head and stared at you with concern in his eyes."...YN...What had you so freaked out before the cops showed up at the Zeta house?" 
You folded your arms and slowly shook your head. "You won't believe me. That's the goal here. Isolate me, turn everyone against me, then strike. By time people figure it out; it's too late. I told the detectives and they both gave each other weird looks. I guess I can't blame them...No one is going to take it seriously and I'm on my own...Again." 
"YN...You will never be on your own with this ever again...Talk to me. No matter how crazy; tell me." 
You sighed heavily, turning to him to whisper. "Fine...I talked to Stu Macher." You instantly saw the skepticism. You jerked away and shot up from your seat. " I knew you wouldn't believe me-" 
He grabbed your hand and ushered you back to your seat. "Hey, hey, hey! Just...Talk to me. I'll try to be open minded because whatever you saw had you freakin 'terrified." 
You hesitated before sitting back down and leaning your head on the wall. "Randy...It's bad. It's two years ago all over again; but this time, they have nothing left to lose." You swallowed before whispering. "Stu talked to me. He told me him and Billy are trying to make me look insane so no one believes me...Not even you and Dewey." 
Randy leaned towards you, your knees touching as he tried to get you to look at him. "It's alright...If...Stu and Billy are alive like you say and are trying something then we'll be ready. Stu was a pussy boy that followed Billy's every command and Billy was a creep with mommy issues. We can take their asses." 
He tried to give you hope but one look in his eyes and you knew. "You're just saying that to make me feel better...You really don't think I talked to Stu." 
He sighed and threw up one of his hands in exasperation. "YN, would you if I was saying it? It's hard to process, especially with the fire. Besides, why strike now? Where did they live? How did they survive their stab wounds?" 
"They were at the hospital, Randy. I heard the nurses and thought I was dreaming. Now I know it was real…" 
"Okay, then where did they go? Why didn't the police see them at the hospital? Why did they wait two years later? Why are they killing random college students?" 
"I don't know...But I know who I talked to." You sniffed, giving him a soft glare.
 He relented, throwing up his hands before smacking his pant leg with a giant shrug. "Alright....Alright, if you think you talked to him then...He's a suspect. Doesn't seem like the Michael Myers type but we'll count him in." 
You stared at him long and hard, worry fading at him at least entertaining the idea. "Who would you say it is then?" 
He whispered to you. "Isn't it obvious? The boy wonder who's after you. You can't get any more on the nose than that. Sequels are known for recycling. It's just a Billy Loomis copycat."
You sighed but nodded, looking back over to Derek as he got his arm examined. Going along with it even though you personally knew he was wrong. If he was willing to say Stu was a possibility then you could play along with his ideas as well. 
You both saw Mickey come in with coffee, handing it to you and saving one back for Hallie as he sat down. 
Randy jerked open a packet and stirred while you just numbly held your cup. Hallie came out and you stood up to see her. Mickey handed her a coffee. You and Randy were already interviewed as the detectives came out and went straight to Derek.
"You alright?" Hallie asked you, pulling you off to the side as Randy and Mickey started talking about movies. "I just, uh, wanted to ask what the detectives thought." 
You shrugged with a frown. "Nothing really. They still don't think me and Randy are targets because we weren't direct targets in Woodsboro. If this were Sidney, they'd probably already have body guards for her." 
Hallie scoffed. "God, what's it going to take?" 
You eyed her. "What did they say to you?" 
"The usual, I guess. I've never been questioned by the police before. Basically wondering about involvement and what I've seen. I told them about all the calls you're getting but they seemed to think those were just...Pranks." 
You sighed. "Figures." You held your arm as you and her listened, hearing Derek's voice rising and seeing him looking at the detectives and Dewey. "It's a shame you got there so late! Right when...He disappeared." 
She gave you a look and whispered. "Do you think he's-?" 
"I don't think so; no. I know Derek isn't behind this." 
She nodded. "Then who? I mean, someone killed Cici Baker tonight." 
You didn't answer as Dewey came out to tell you Derek was being dismissed.
——————————————————————
You all walked back from the hospital in the early morning. Dewey hesitated as Gale stopped him. You watched 10 feet away and waited for him as he spoke to her. Your eyes locked with Gale for a moment and glared before looking away. It wasn't long before Dewey shuffled over to you.
"Hey, YN… I'm going with Gale to the police station to try and piece two and two together." 
"And you need her beccaauussee?" 
He gave you a pleading look. "YN…" 
You sighed but nodded. "Alright, good luck." 
"Be careful. I'm going to try and convince the Chief to assign protection to you and Randy but-" 
"No guarantees? I know. You would think me being the only one with calls would be enough." 
He cringed with a shrug. "Well, technically we all have. Anyone involved in Stab but...Yours are definitely more violent." 
"And I was attacked a few hours ago." 
"Considering Cici had no relation to you and was killed; they aren't considering you any more in danger than anyone else." You gave a bitter smirk and looked away but he nudged your arm to look back at him. His warm brown eyes conveying how much he meant what he was saying. "I promise, YN. I'm talking to him and making sure you're safe." 
You nodded as he started walking away and you caught up to your new friend group. 
Mickey rubbed his face with a groan as you all walked. "Fuck my life. No sleep all night at the hospital and I STILL have to go to classes?"
Hallie grunted in response. "You aren't the only one exhausted. Just take the day off." 
"Can't. If I miss any more days, I'm screwed." 
Randy shrugged. "I don't care. I am going to my dorm, taking a siesta and clocking out for the day. Me and Dewey have lunch anyways." 
Derek walked beside you, all of them talking back and forth as you zoned out. Remembering what Stu said and the chase in the Zeta house. It left you with no other option as you glanced over at Derek.
"Hey can we...Talk?" 
He looked surprised but nodded as the other three looked back at you. You waved them off and they all did so. You saw Mickey give Hallie a cringe as they walked away.
Derek looked at you. "YN, I wanted to talk to you too...That guy, James. Do you know him? You seemed really scared of him. Did he hurt you? You want me to kick his ass?" 
You couldn't help smiling at that as Derek smiled back down at you. "Do you know the last name? Or the name of the guy he's hanging with?" 
"The tall blonde guy with the freaky face jewelry?" 
Your eyes lit up. "Yes! Who is he?" 
"Tim. That's all I know. I'll ask some of the guys if they know them." 
He looked back at you with an earnest expression. "I'm serious. If he took advantage of you at a party or was a shitty ex; I can take him down. Just say the word." He smirked, flexing his okay arm.
"Derek-" You sighed and rubbed your jacket sleeve, still in the same clothes from the party. His eagerness to please you or help you made this ten times harder. Glancing down at the bandage on his arm made up your mind. "I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I like you...I really do...But think it's best if you...Stay as far away from me as possible right now." 
Derek stopped in his tracks to stare at you. "What?" He tried smiling to see if you were joking but when you didn't smile back, it faded into a surprised expression. "Why?" 
"Because it's not safe." 
"But YN!...We're just friends for now it's-" 
You walked ahead and turned back to look at him. "Derek. You barely know me. A murderer is after me. They already hurt you-" You sat down on a bench and he sat with you.
"I'll take my chances." 
"Derek, I'm serious." You stared intently into his eyes. Hoping he saw the fear you had and got the message. "This is serious. People are dead." 
He sucked in a breath, looking down to speak. "You are concerned with my personal well being and not with trusting me or anything...Right?" 
 "Derek, I know the Chief gave you a hard time but I know it's not you. Trust me." He gave you a relieved smile but you continued. " All I know is that you don't need to be near me. Being my friend is dangerous and being romantically interested in me is a death wish...I don't want to see you get hurt...Or worse; killed."
He reached out to you, moving your jacket to cover your shoulder. "I don't want to see you get hurt either…" He gazed deeply into your eyes. "I can't just sit here and say goodbye and hope I don't see your name on the news." 
You looked away before standing up. "Well, that's what you need to do." 
"You're not doing this, YN-" He grabbed your hand, startling you before quickly letting go. "You are not doing this alone." 
 You stared at him a moment before replying. "...Derek, you don't get to make that choice. I am in danger and so is anyone close to me. You will be the first person they go after!" 
"But you're in more danger if you're alone-" 
"Derek." You interrupted him, closing your eyes. "You don't know how much I hate this but it's for your safety and mine. No musical number or Kappa prank or gift or poem or whatever is going to make me change my mind. My last boyfriend was murdered because he was my boyfriend...You're no exception." 
You opened your eyes and saw how disappointed he looked. His blue eyes staring at you, hoping you would change your mind. It hurt but you knew it was the only way...Billy and Stu would kill him if you didn't make this choice. 
"So...That's it?" 
You nodded with a sad smile. "Yeah...At least until they're caught." 
He looked away and nodded, getting up from the bench with a long sigh. "Okay...Okay if...If that's what you want-" 
He looked at you and you nodded. "It is." 
"Then I'll leave you alone. Just know that, I'm here if you need me or change your mind." He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. He gave you a tight smile and a nod before slowly walking away. You sadly watched him leave. Your heart was hurting at a guy you were really starting to like being shoved away.
All because two guys just couldn't accept life.
You held yourself. You didn't know where to go or what to do. Randy didn't believe you, Dewey seemed skeptical as well, Gale only wanted it to be true for her story. Your new friends had no idea and would be no help. If anything, it just put them in danger even more. Even the police were looking at you like you were a joke. 
'There's only one thing to do...Ask around and take things into my own hands. I think it's time I found out 'James' and 'Tims' full names and get some leverage. ' 
————————————–—————————
Randy sat at the small café table across from Dewey, watching the tv screen on the wall.
A C list actress he swore he saw topless in one of those early 90s horror flicks came on screen. She was gripping the actor playing Billy, practically moaning into his ear. "It's okay, baby. What Sidney doesn't know wont hurt her... It's just me and you. Bonnie and Clyde. Forever." They kissed and Randy grimaced at the portrayal of you right before the actress came back on screen for her interview. The interviewer asked her. "Ooohh, how scandalous! What was it like playing such a controversial character?" 
The woman looked nothing like you. "Well, Scarlett. It was very interesting. I was worried playing such a self serving woman might tarnish my reputation-" 
"Pfft! Please, your reputation was tarnished with that shit acting in Slimeballs from Mars 2." Randy huffed, throwing a hand up at the tv screen.
Dewey shook his head with a pained expression. "I can't believe they did this to her...Poor kid. She just can't catch a break. If the killer isn't a threat to her safety then anyone watching this might make her a target." 
"So, did you convince the Chief?" 
"Yes and for you as well." 
Randy raised a brow. "Me?" 
"Yes...Randy, the killer is following a pattern. Maureen Evans-" 
Randy nodded with an underwhelmed expression. "Well, that's obvious." 
Dewey tapped his finger on the table with each name. "Phil STEVENS and CASEY Baker were victims too. Ring any bells?" 
"Casey??" 
Dewey sighed as he answered. "Cici. Her real name was Casey." 
It dawned on Randy as his eyes widened. "Oohh...I'm kind of gonna miss her. We had film theory together." 
"Well, that's not all you have in common. The killer is copying the Woodsboro murders. If we follow the order, then that means Principal Himbry was next-" 
"Not so fast." Randy halted him with a finger. "Phil was killed with Maureen so we don't know if they're following the order or just randomly picking names to kill from the list." 
"Yeah well...Let's hope it is in order. That saves you, Gale, and YN for last on the potential victims list." 
Randy threw up a hand in his direction. "And you! God, why are you putting Gale before yourself?" 
They both looked back up at the tv to see another scene play out. This time, the actress playing YN stabbed Randy's actor multiple times in the leg with a sadistic smile on her face while Ghostface watched. They somehow made it look like the actress was seductively into it as she held the bloody knife back up near her face. Randy's character sobbed and begged the actress. "Why? Why would you do this? I thought we had a special bond?" 
Dewey raised a brow with a smirk at Randy. "Special?" 
Randy rolled his eyes. "We were special, alright. I called her a bitch for stabbing me." He held up his hands in defense. " Not saying it was right but I think being stabbed is well deserving of an insult. Plus, she only stabbed me ONCE. Why the hell do they have me crumbling to the ground?! I took that shit like a champ!" 
Dewey gave a shrug. "Well, it is cinema. They always have inaccurate portrayals." 
Randy sneered. "Yeah, no thanks to Gale Weathers. And her portraying Sid as some ditz with Tori Spelling. And MY piss poor acting choice. And they have you looking like a total dumbass...But YN is the worst of all. No wonder she's getting death threats. All because of Gale, who of course has a flawless representation." 
Dewey frowned. "Randy, she's not in charge of the acting choices-" Randy sucked his straw and rolled his eyes. Dewey continued. "And besides, it's just a...A character." He mumbled exactly what Gale told him. Trying to reassure himself more than anyone. 
Randy gave him a look. "Oh please, she can control what she types." The air was awkward as Dewey didn't have anything else to say. 
Randy leaned forward, snapping his finger. "Anyways, let's get down to business. The way I see it; someone is out to make a Sequel to Woodsboro. You know, cash in on all the murder movie hoopla. So it's our job to observe the rules of a sequel-" He held up a finger. "Number One: The body count is always bigger." He held up another. "Number Two: Death Scenes are always much more elaborate. More blood, more gore. Carnage Candy. The audience expects it." He finally held up a third. "Number Three: You ever want your sequel to become a franchise; never ever kill off the main-" 
Dewey sighed and interrupted him. "How do we find the killer, Randy? That's what I wanna know." 
Randy inclined his head. "Ooh. Well, let's look at the suspects." 
"Randy…" Dewey stared at him before he could even speak. "YN...She told me she thinks Stu and Billy are after her. I'm worried about her." 
Randy sighed. "Yeah, I know. I mean, the main character going insane by the second movie is a trope. It's a classic, actually." 
"Do you...Do you think she's right?" 
Randy gave Dewey a look. "Dewey, don't. I hear this enough from her. There is no freakin way." 
"I mean, we did find that backdoor open." 
"So? Backdoors are left open during parties. Shit happens!" 
Dewey raised his brows. "Are you sure YOU just don't want to admit it's a possibility? I remember Billy used to bully you-" 
Randy pointed a finger at him with a glare. "Hey, hey! We aren't rehashing playground stories, alright?" 
Dewey licked his lips before bringing it up. "We talked earlier in the hospital after her interrogation while they were treating Derek. She said that you saw Billy Loomis." 
He rolled his eyes. "I saw a guy from 30 feet away that resembled him. It means nothing! Look, she's an old friend, I'm tickled pink that we're talking again. I care about her but I do not think she's in her right headspace when it comes to that." He looked around before whispering. "I mean, for god sakes she went through a lot from those freaks. Then this movie happens and now these murders? I think she's having flashbacks or something." 
Dewey was eyeing the drink in front of himself before staring back up at him. "Wouldn't you?" 
Randy shrugged with a nod. "Probably. I just don't want her getting hurt. She's the only thing that's made sense in the last two years...I don't know what I'd do if I lost her again-..." His face fell as Dewey raised his brows at him. "Why are you looking at me with that stupid look on your face?" 
Dewey smirked. "Nothing! Just...You seem awfully sentimental for a guy that's just rekindled an old friendship after so long." 
Randy felt his face heat as he glared at Dewey. "Bite me."  
Dewey chuckled. "I'm just saying...Besides, I thought you were Sidney's love toy or whatever you called it?" 
"Unrequited love slave…" He mumbled with zero shame before glaring back at Dewey. "Who said I had any feelings for YN? We're talking about murder here, not crushes! This is a Slasher flick not The Young and The Restless." 
Dewey shrugged with a grin. " Tatum always was rooting for you two to be a thing so you both weren't the third wheels...I barely recognized her when she ran up to me. She's all grown up now." Dewey mumbled with a sad smile. 
Randy sighed and sat up to rest his chin in his hand. "Yeah, yeah she's no longer a teen she's an attractive young woman now blah blah blah...Look. She's a dear friend, okay?! Drop it." 
"Mm-hm. Attractive?" 
"I have eyes, Dewey. Sid was the love of my life! I got the scars to prove it-" He moved his collar to show the scar. 
Dewey raised a brow. "Yeah well, you got an even bigger love scar on your leg from letting YN carry out that last minute plan. You had to have really trusted her to let her do it." 
Randy gave him a dirty look. "As if I had a choice! Her crazy ass just jabbed it in my leg without a single warning!...Besides, you got your scars too...By the way, what's with the limp and frail arm? You were stabbed in the back." 
"Severed nerve." Dewey corrected. "And it's okay to like YN, Randy. Sid would be over the moon if she were here and you two got together." 
Randy deflected. "We are friends, alright?! She's been here a week and you think I'm already smitten? Get real! Besides, how about we look at your trouble in paradise, hm? Speaking of suspects; Gale." 
Dewey scrunched his face. "Gale?" 
"Yes, Gale! She has as much motive as anyone. She's an opportunist." 
"Gale?! Gale would never-" 
"Hey, just cause you're sweet on her doesn't mean she's not a killer or setting up the killings. Next big breakthrough to bring in those dollar signs." 
Dewey scoffed. "No. She's not a killer... She's not!" 
"Okay...Well, if she's not a killer then she's a target." 
Dewey frowned at that as they both went over suspects. Coming up empty handed.
————————————————–——–——
You went asking around campus about James and Tim. No one knew anything about them but rumors. All ranging from James's older brother being a Kappa legend to Tim being part of a rock band to both of them being gay for each other to them being chick magnets. Not a single piece of information helped you in the slightest.
'Bastards. They're probably not even registered here. How could they be? No Social security number, address or real names unless they want everyone to know who they are...They probably just float around undetected posing as students here...I'm screwed.' 
You gave up. Going back to your dorm to nap or shower or at least get out of the tight skirt and platforms. 
'How the hell did Tat do it?! My ankles are killing me.' You thought, kicking them off and flopping on the couch. Mentally and physically exhausted. No leads, no answers, no help. Just that they were planning your demise and you could do nothing but wait.
The phone rang, it was broad daylight. You hesitated before picking it up, they only ever called when it was late at night. You saw the unknown number and rolled your eyes. 
"Hello?" Silence on the other line. "If this is a prank; I will turn you into the police-" 
"YN, cut the bullshit. We both know you have nothing to show them but your crazy delusions. You have no leverage here." A mans voice drew out on the other line.
Your stomach dropped as you sat up fully. Dead silent as your mind tried to register who you just heard. A voice you didn't think you would ever hear again after that night.
"...Billy." 
No voice modulator as he answered. "Nope, it's James now. I thought it was a fitting name considering what's going to happen to you. Besides, it's not like I can use my real name any more. Might as well have some fun with it." He jeered. 
He gripped the arm of the love seat and sucked in a breath, feeling your jaw tighten. 
"...What the hell do you want, Billy?" 
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thirsting4slashers · a day ago
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Hi! So,I recently found your blog and I'm in love, and I hate to send this kind of stuff to people I don't often talk to but I had this stupidly fluffy idea on my head and I need to share it with someone
Now imagine this with me,we all know Mr billy loomis isn't the sweetest kinda guy and has a hard time expressing his feelings, then one night he goes on one of his killing adventures but something goes wrong and he ends up injured and goes to the hospital,since the procedment to fix him up is kinda painful,he just goes under anesthesia,and it gets him so groggy so when reader goes to see him there,he has absolutely no filter and just blabs out how pretty they are or how much he loves them <3
Bonus if he gets annoyed every time reader brings this up to tease him
Sorry again for doing this,I just really had to share this, Englishman is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes,have a nice day <3
literally so sorry for how long this took omggg but this was so fucking cute!!!! this is pretty short but i still hope you enjoy it!
Billy Loomis x GN!Reader
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WORD COUNT: 545
WARNINGS: none, billy calls reader pretty, that's it, not proofread either lol
Stupid, stupid, stupid. One second he was golden, the next he had his fucking arm sliced open. Getting to the hospital without drawing suspicion on himself was a fucking challenge, but not passing out from blood loss and giving the doctors a believable story was another fucking hurdle. But he did it.
And now he was laid up in his hospital bed, drugged up and feeling pretty damn good, while he waited for you to show up. He called you right before the stuff hit his system, which happened way faster than he had expected, so Billy was far gone by the time you showed up.
“Holy shit, Billy! Are you alright?” You were worried sick the entire drive to the hospital and seeing him laid against the starch white hospital bed did little to ease your worries. He blinked slowly at you, the act of focusing his eyes harder than usual, and he gives you a lopsided grin. “What happened?”
You sit on the bed beside him, resting your hand on top of his. “M’kay. You know,” His words slur together and he looks up at you, his smile growing. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise at this but god if you can’t help but smile back.
Billy was never one to out-right compliment you. He called you cute pet-names and told you how hot you were, but somehow it never seemed quite as sincere as that. You knew he believed what he said to you, but maybe it was the drugs getting rid of the insecurities he had about really showing his love. Whatever it was, you really liked it.
“Is that so?”
“Mmhm. S’cute. Like, your lips are so perfect, and your eyes, shit, babe. I could stare into them forever.” He settles back into the bed, his eyelids growing heavy. “You’re perfect, love you s’much. Stay here?”
You smile softly, lifting his hand up and kissing his knuckles gently. His other arm was wrapped in gauze and before your lips leave his skin he’s fast asleep. “Of course.” When Billy wakes up you’re beside him in the chair, scrolling on your phone, and you smile when you notice him. “Good morning there, sleepyhead.”
“How long have I been asleep?” His voice is hoarse and he rubs the sleep from his eyes, stifling a yawn.
“Just a few hours. You’re about to get discharged, so good timing, beautiful.” Billy’s eyebrow raises at that, your sly smile putting a small pit of worry in his stomach. “I’m guessing you don’t remember, then?”
He shakes his head slowly, trying to rack his brain for what he could have said or done to warrant him being called beautiful. He tries to force down the happiness that it gave him.
“You were a little compliment-happy when you were high.” He groans, his head flopping back onto the pillow. Billy can feel the blush crawling up his neck and over his cheeks. “It was cute! I really liked it, actually. You’re pretty cute, y’know that?”
He wants to be mad at you but when his eyes open and he sees your face and the adoration that covered it, he found it pretty damn impossible. “You’re lucky I think you’re smoking or I’d be pissed.”
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scream · 15 hours ago
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Get ready to be the breaking story, Gale.
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knifewh0re · a day ago
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sleepy towns and cemeteries pt 3
Poly!Ghostface x Witch!Reader
just angst. three fights in a row. oops. but I'm back!
hey guys!!!!!!!!!!! it's a bit short n maybe not the best but it's done! and request r back open! so pls send em in! love ya!!!!!
They were yours now. They were yours and you were theirs, and everything should've been so good. But it just wasn't and you'd begun to remember why you'd headed your aunt's warnings about romance in the human world so strongly. It was just that no one had ever gotten to you like they did.
You felt so overjoyed every moment that you were with them, missed them whenever you were apart. It should all be so good, so simple. But life had never been simple for you, had it?
You never had a moment to yourself anymore to even begin to try and process the mess you'd gotten yourself into. If you weren't in school then you were with the boys, occasionally the rest of the gang too. If you weren't with them then you were sat somewhere in or around your house, most often in the clearing, following your aunt's every move as she trained you to fulfill a complicated destiny that you'd not even known existed for most of your life.
You were relishing one of the few unoccupied moments of your day by sprawling across your bed, complaining to Alice. She sat silently, ever the good listener, staring up at you as you rambled. "I just don't get it. I'm eighteen, I haven't even finished school yet and I'm supposed to carry some stupid fucking legacy? Couldn't this have waited like, one more generation? I just want to be a normal teen."
At this Alice scoffed, "now that is rich. A normal teen? Y/N need I remind you that you're talking to a cat who used to be a human?"
You simply rolled your eyes.
"You've never been 'normal,' and you never will be. And why would you want to be anyways? You have something that thousands of young witches everywhere would kill for. You're the Renascence of Annaliesse. The most powerful witch in your bloodline until you, and every ounce of her power courses through you. And more. And you want to be 'normal' for what? Some human boys?"
"They aren't just 'some human boys' Alice. Billy and Stu are so kind, and funny, and amazing-"
"And they'll never be like you. This is exactly why Patsy and I wanted to keep you away from dating these human boys. Human romance only complicates things."
"They aren't complicating things, this stupid fucking legacy is. Why did I have to be the Renascence?"
Alice looked more annoyed than you'd ever seen her. "Stupid legacy? You have been blessed with something beautiful. A gift greater than anything else that you could ever be given other than life itself. And don't bullshit yourself, kid, this beautiful power isn't what's complicated things. Things were complicated before you even knew it, because of who you are. Who we are. They'd never be able to know, never be able to understand and you know that. I don't know why you torture yourself so greatly. You should forget these human boys. Focus on yourself and your training, wait for a nice boy of our kind to come along. I get a dark feeling from those two anyways."
You sat up in bed and glared at Alice, "get. Out. Get out right now."
You didn't have to tell her again, she was up and out of your door at once.
-
Your discussion with Alice had ruined your mood, and you were doing a pisspoor job of hiding it. Billy and Stu had picked up that something was wrong almost as soon as they'd picked you up.
You seemed distracted as you all talked on your way to the school, Billy's eyes flitting suspiciously to you with each short and half-present response. This change made him uneasy. The last time someone had become so closed off around him was his mother, just before she left. And Billy liked you too much to let you leave.
Stu was worried, too, of course. He didn't do well with rejection, the plans that he had in store for your classmate Casey were proof enough. But he didn't want to have to hurt you, neither of them did. They just couldn't seem to get you to tell them what was wrong.
"It's nothing you guys, just drop it, okay?" You had your arms crossed over your chest, leaning against the door as you stared sullenly out of the window. They'd been trying for half the car ride to get you to open up, but no matter how they approached it you seemed committed to silence.
When Billy parked outside of the school you grabbed your bag from by your feet and went to exit the car as quickly as possible, but Billy was refusing to unlock the doors. "Billy, let me out. I told Tatum that I'd meet her before first period to give her my notes for french."
Billy let out a short, harsh laugh, "so you can talk to Tatum, but not us? Your own boyfriends? What the fuck is wrong with you today?"
You sighed, "listen. I'm sorry, okay? Patsy and I got into a little argument last night and we weren't necessarily on speaking terms this morning." It shocked you, just how easily the half-lie rolled off your tongue. You had gotten into an argument, just not with Patsy, though you couldn't very well tell them that they had become a topic of heated debate between you and your cat.
Stu scoffed slightly behind you, mumbling under his breath about "so that's why they've been a bitch all morning."
Billy flipped Stu off without removing his gaze from you, "that's all? You know you can talk to us about stuff like that. Besides, whatever it is, I'm sure that Patsy will come around. Doesn't she always?"
His gentle smile was almost enough to lift your spirits. Almost. So, you gave a small smile in return and nodded your head. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just that this was about something huge, and I don't know if she'll ever be able to see things from my side."
"Well, whatever it is, you'll get through it. She loves you too much to stay mad at you." As Billy pulled you into his side to kiss your head, you felt a pit form in your stomach from the guilt. The guilt of lying to him and Stu, lying to your aunt, and the coldness you'd been showing Alice since your fight.
Try as you might, you couldn't seem to snap yourself out of it, and by the time the school day had ended the boys were genuinely concerned.
"Look, why don't we all go to Stu's tonight and watch a movie?" Billy suggested as you all walked back to his car after school.
Stu nodded, "yeah, my parents are out of town again and my dad finally got a bigger tv for the living room."
Oh god, "I can't you guys. I promised my aunt I'd help her clean the house tonight." Another fucking lie.
Billy rolled his eyes, "I'm sure your aunt can do without you for one night. You never spend time with us anymore."
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry that I have a life outside of you too and can't constantly be there 24/7." Shit.
"Wow," Stu chimed in, "no need to be a bitch about it."
You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, "are you just gonna keep calling me a bitch all day?"
"Are you just gonna keep being one?"
"Stu-" Billy didn't feel like arguing,
"No. Fuck you, Macher. Fuck both of you. I'll catch the fucking bus." With that you stormed off, tears clouding your vision as you retreated. What a shit day.
-
The bus dropped you off at the corner, leaving you to walk the trail to your house. It'd been hard to hold it together on the bus, but now you could cry freely.
You kicked the pebbles before you as you made your way slowly through the trees. Almost without thinking, you decided in a detour and your feet carried you off of the path and towards your clearing.
When you got there you sat in the middle of the trees and tilted your head to the sky, "why me? Why'd I have to be some stupid fucking chosen one?"
"Stupid?" You jumped at the sound of your aunt Patsy's voice, "this is not stupid."
"Auntie- I- I didn't mean-"
She looked at you in disbelief, "this is the single greatest thing that any young witch can experience and you're going to call it stupid? How dare you."
"Auntie you don't understand-"
"No. I understand perfectly. Alice already told me everything." At that, Alice emerged from the trees behind her, her expression shifting from righteous pride to shame as you stared at her in pain.
"Alice? Did you really?" Your voice was pure disbelief.
"You didn't leave me any choice! I can't let you throw away your destiny over some- some human boys." The way that she said human, like it was a slur, a dirty word, made you cringe.
"I can't believe you. After everything that I taught you. After what Samantha did-"
"You keep my mom's name out of your fucking mouth!"
"There you go again, protecting her! Did she protect you? No! And those human boys. Sweet as they may be, do you really think that they'll still be here once they learn who you are? What you are?"
Her words felt like a thousand knives going through you. "What I am? What I am?! Like I'm some sort of beast or monster? I'm a fucking kid, I'm 18 is what I am. I didn't ask to be a witch, and I didn't ask for this stupid destiny bullshit either!"
"Well too bad, because this is what you are. And this is your destiny! And I will not let you be abandoned again because of your beautiful gift."
"Maybe it's not such a beautiful gift if that's the case huh?" By this point you were crying, "my own mom didn't even want me."
Patsy's face dropped as she ran over to you, wrapping her arms around you. "Oh sweetheart, it's okay. It's okay. I forgive you for lying to me, but you will be breaking up with those boys. I will not let them hurt you like this."
You heard the finality in her words, her tone which left no room for debate, and you cried harder because you were pretty sure that you loved them. And deep down you knew that your Aunt was right.
They would never truly love you.
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motsiop · a day ago
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He’s trying to figure out the generator give him a few minutes…
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