Writing A Thomas Hewitt/reader About Self Harm Scars. Or Attempting To

writing a thomas hewitt/reader about self harm scars. or attempting to

just some jason gifs i’ve made. i’ll make more, i always do

im sorry i havent been writing ive been havin a tough time

did you guys know i have a signed plaster cast of the original jason voorhees mask made by the artist behind it? also have a copy of the talisman from childs play or something i got for free but idk where it is.

Thoughts that keep me up at 3 am: Thomas Hewitt is…. a very big boi.

Take it. I need to… sleemp.  (∪｡∪)｡｡｡zzZ

Scent

You were Michael’s nurse. The Michael Myers nurse. Not sure what you did you earn that title, but here you were.

You were the only one he liked. Tolerated? Something. Anyone else got hurt. Lucky you.

The clock rang loudly beside you and you jolted up from dozing off, muttering to yourself. Talk about a busy job.

If you left the building for even a few hours he somehow knew and threw an absolute tantrum; one only you could calm.

It was time for his after lunch snack. Chocolate. He had an obsession with this stuff.

You groaned but grabbed his special chocolate bar and went to his room, where he was, of course, sitting on his bed with his knees hugged to his chest.

You mumbled out his name and, this time, he got up with an alarming speed and was in front of you in seconds, making you drop the snack.

You were absolutely sure this was the day. The day he would get rid of y-

Is... is he smelling your hair? He is smelling your hair. Why is he smelling your hair.

“Mi...chael...?” you managed to squeak out under the nearly paralyzing fear. What was happening right now.

He wrapped his arms around you and you let out a small, scared sound, but... muttered once more when you realized he was still just... smelling. you.

He didn’t move. He didn’t do anything. Except breathe. You. In, and out. In, and out. 

“Michael-” you began again but he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and slammed himself onto the bed, with you in his lap.

It was terrifying at first and you nearly screamed, until.

He was still. Just. Breathing.

He was just breathing you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, and patted his arm, and his grip softened.

And he breathed.

In, and out.

In... and out.