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mickey altieri x reader where she starts getting suspicious of him but ignores it cause he’s her boyfriend (and she’s in denial) until one day she accidentally catches him still in costume without him knowing. Reader then starts avoiding him and is super upset and doesn’t know what to do until one day he shows up and asks her why she’s been avoiding him. She tells Mickey that she saw him in the Ghostface costume and knows that he is the killer and he tries to explain himself and tries to calm her down. She’s very upset about it and is scared that he might hurt her but he reassures her that he won’t. She loves him so she eventually decides to stay with him anyway and promises that she won’t leave him or tell anyone abt him being the killer… I hope this made sense lol I feel like I put a lot I’m just in desperate need of mickey fics 😭

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Please.

Warnings: swearing, manipulation (mickey manipulates the reader to stay by his side), lack of morals from reader's side, mentions of blood and murder.

Word count: 2160

Author's note: i'm living for these requests! with this little piece, i was able to answer two of them, that's why i added the other one. i love mickey, but i actually struggled with writing this one because my moral alarm was going off everytime i tried to think of a reason for reader to stay with mickey after finding out... that's why i went down the manipulation path! hope you like it, and remember, no matter how 'unoriginal' or 'boring' you think your reqs may be, i love getting them and will most probably write them <3

also in here mickey is a little dumb dumb because he goes into his dorm with the ghostface costume on, something that i don't think mickey would actually do... but anyways! no more spoilers :)

graphic by me! also, i'm leaving my mickey altieri playlist, if anyone wants to take a look at it, feel free!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The pounding of your heart was the only thing you could feel as you shut your eyes close and try not to make a damn sound. You knew you hadn’t been meant to witness what you had since the moment your mind had been able to connect the dots together, just some minutes ago, and now you were just trying not to discover yourself.

The sounds of someone moving around Mickey’s room had woken you up from your heavy sleep, the coldness from your boyfriend not being by your side anymore easing you up to reality. You had barely opened your eyes, a quick flutter that registered the small lamp in Mickey’s desk shedding its light in the figure next to it. Your heart had stopped at the sight of the figure who, even though had its back turned to you, you could recognize everywhere after last week’s news.

Someone was on a murder spree on campus, dressed with the same costume the figure there was wearing, so it was natural for your first thought to be that you were the next victim. You even saw the knife in the figure’s hand, blade stained with blood that meant you weren’t about to be the only dead of the night. But, before you could even think about moving to try and save your life, the figure had taken the ghostly mask off and you had recognized Mickey, your dear and loved and lovely boyfriend Mickey, in less than a second. That was when you had stopped breathing, your eyes closing as you tried to wash the sight of the bloody knife off your mind, and your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You waited in silence, trying to control the thoughts that raced through your mind, and not making a single move that could expose you to Mickey. Luckily enough, he got out of the room with a towel on his shoulder, to go and use the communitary shower, and that allowed you to breathe deep before trying to control the panic trying to take over your body.

Was Mickey really the killer? When you opened your eyes again, the costume was nowhere to be seen but it was not like you had the imagination to make that up. And if you were true to yourself, Mickey had been shady as fuck. Oh, God, were you really suspecting your own boyfriend of being a killer? The evidence had been right there, in front of your eyes — that wasn’t suspecting anymore.

When some steps could be heard outside the door, you forced yourself to close your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the sick feeling messing with your stomach. You kept yourself grounded, hidden between the pillow and the sheets, and your body stilled terribly when Micky got himself on bed, like nothing had happened. He smelled sweet, the scent of his shampoo surrounding you.

Quietly, you held your breath as his arms surrounded you, lovingly, and you waited for something — anything — to happen.

You waited for the whole night, but nothing other than Mickey swiftly falling asleep did.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days passed by, and your mind couldn’t help but bring back the image of Mickey on the costume with the bloody knife whenever you were around him. And that was terrible, because you spent an incredible amount of time with Mickey, which quickly brought you to avoid him.

At first it was rather small and subtle — made up group projects, very real homework, studying. Then, the need to be on your own, which triggered his suspicions of something else going on. You were inevitably jumpy around him during those times you ran out of excuses, laughing less than usual and sometimes even zoning out on him. The thought of you losing your feelings for him was nearly driving him insane.

Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about you during his film history course, and not in a good way. From college, his murder spree and now you acting up, he had received a ridiculous amount of stress — enough to make him space out in every single class of his. In the middle of the lesson he had already made up his mind about having to talk things out with you and figure out what he had said or done to upset you that much.

When the class ended he was the first one to get out, without even saying goodbye to Randy, and heading towards the classroom he knew you’d be in. You both had learned each other’s schedules after spending so much time together, and that hour was perfect, since his class ended a little bit before yours and both were the last classes of the day.

Oblivious to his presence outside the classroom, you calmly gathered your things once the class came to an end, agreeing a date and hour with the partner you had been assigned to for your next project. Attending your classes and focusing on your schoolwork kept your mind off things — things being Mickey — but as soon as you crossed the classroom doors and saw him there, it all came back.

Mickey smiled at you, even if you didn’t smile back, and walked towards you with that easy going manner of doing things he had. You waited for him with your fingers drumming against your side, which he caught on — weren’t you happy to see him? Even if he had verbalized that question, he wouldn’t have gotten an answer.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said, forcing a smile that, surprisingly, hadn’t felt so forced. Maybe you had been slipping lately, but your objective was not to be killed, and you didn’t know how far he was planning on going. “I have to go to the library, do you want to hang after—?”

“I just wanna talk to you for a minute.” Mickey interrupted you, grabbing the hand you had use to lightly gesture around.

Your heart started pounding so loudly you were afraid he able to hear it. He wasn't, but you didn’t notice his fingers pressing on the pulse point on your grip, checking that, indeed, you were pretty nervous. “It can’t wait?”

“It’ll be just a min.” Mickey promised, insisting oh so charmingly. He squeezed your hand once. “Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he asked so nicely, with his head cocked and his eyes shining? You nodded softly and sighed under your breath, letting him take you wherever he wanted as you tried not to think too much about it.

He led you outside and to the side of the building, a not so hidden place that equally allowed you to be seen by the students walking through campus but not be heard unless you raised your voices. You found yourself terribly afraid of noticing all these things, but Mickey letting your hand go and placing himself across from you got your attention too fast.

“What’s gotten into you?” He finally asked, head cocked.

It took you a second to catch it. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mickey pursed his lips slightly, then shook his head. He truly looked worried. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh, please.” Mickey waved his hand to make you stop, diminishing your ridiculous attempt to fool him. “Don’t lie to me like that. Just… tell me what I did wrong so I can undo it and—”

You started shaking your head, nervous. “It’s not— It’s not like that.”

The look in Mickey’s eyes was so helpless that you felt how your heart started to crumble. “Please?”

You looked away from him, feeling the fast way your heart was pumping blood. If you had been seated, you would have started to bounce your leg up and down — Mickey couldn’t be more confused at your nervous-wreck state.

“Are you the murderer?” You asked in a whisper, almost not daring to look up to see his reaction.

But his face didn’t tell you anything. Mickey was completely emotionless as he stared back into your eyes, his brain processing very slowly those four words that had just left your mouth. How could you know? He was sure he had been really careful, trying not to let his mood after a kill or planning affect any scenario between you. Mickey knew you were smart, but how?

That was not the right direction to go, though, he realized as you waited for him to give you an answer. You had been acting all weird around him because of being scared of him, and that feeling didn’t make him feel entirely good. 

“Listen…” He started, coming a step closer to you, but you instantly backed away.

“Don’t.” You hissed rather abruptly, still not believing he hadn’t denied it completely and put an end to your delusion. You were right. “If you get closer I’ll scream.”

“Sweetheart!” Mickey exclaimed, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as the pet name he reserved for your softest moments slipping past his lips in what was an improvised plan of manipulation. The seriousness in his voice and face was the only thing you could pay attention to, though. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

You hesitated and he almost hissed right then. Falling for you hadn’t been on his plan, but now that same plan was being threatened just because you had found — and he couldn’t have that happen. Mickey wouldn’t kill you, no, but his partner easily could if you did something stupid, and he also did not want you to go to the police saying things about him and the murders. He needed to think of a solution, and fast.

“Then why would you hurt others?” You said hastily, then your head looking around you to really make sure no one was listening. “You’ve killed people, Mickey. I knew some of them—”

“You have to trust me.” He interrupted you instantly. There was only one way out, as he saw it: manipulation. Mickey needed you by his side. His acting skills were enough for you to stop looking so nervous, watching closely how his eyes fell to the floor in fake defeat — but you didn’t know he was acting. You didn’t even know he was a star. “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, but you dodged it, rather defensive. “And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’m not a liar.” Mickey frowned slightly. If you didn’t let him convince you of staying by his side, he would have to… The way he called out your name was rather heartbreaking, this time managing to catch your hand and pressing it against his chest. “Please. I wouldn’t hurt you, and you know that.”

He was making you doubt, he realized, as your eyes fell to your hand on his chest. Mickey seemed desperate from your eyes — begging you to stay. But it wasn’t right… “It just… this changes so many things.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I still love you, and I always will.” His promise sounded genuine, and it was. There was no denying that, Mickey truly loved you. If he didn’t, you would already be another number on his back, after those little four words you said to him. 

But there he was, playing tricks on your mind without you noticing. “I’d trade my life for yours.”

“Mickey…”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He insisted, more strongly now. His eyes continuously searched for yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to deny him if you were looking right into his eyes. “Please, please, you have to trust me. Don’t you love me anymore?”

The question shocked you, and if you had been in your right mind, you would have realized the length of the manipulation. But in that moment it only made you gasp, surprised that he would actually question it with such a real expression. 

You were quick. “Of course I do!”

“Then…” A sigh interrupted Mickey, who looked down, letting your hand go. He didn’t need that much dramatism, but now that he had actually gotten used to the part, why stop? “Please.”

There wasn’t much thinking from your side. Mickey had asked you to please trust him, and that was what you were going to do. He had also promised not to hurt you, and you knew him too well — or so you thought. There needed to be more behind all this, and you had to be by his side. 

“I trust you.” You muttered after some seconds, and he looked up instantly. A soft smile blossomed in his lips as you nodded. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

Mickey leaned closer to you, with the swiftest movement, a hand cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too.” You replied against his lips.

hi i just wanted to say im so excited for all the requests im getting quwhdijqkeosiqis they're so cool and i can't wait to write them!

i've made a little silly schedule with the order of update, just wanted to let you guys know im seeing what you write and being very happy. thank you for requesting and for interacting with what i write, it means the world to me <3

Billy Loomis x reader

Reader is having a horrible day and.billy comforts her

Billy Loomis x Reader: bad day (good life)

Warnings: Swearing (probably), bad day, billy climbing through your window

Tags: fluff, lowkey domestic, established relationship, a single kiss, bad day but good outcome, pre murders, ooc for billy (i don’t think so but he’s definitely not in his psychotic breakdown here)

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is referred to as ‘doll’ once).

Word count: 1109

Summary: Reader had a bad day, but good thing Billy boy is there to save the day.

Author’s note: i love him your honor :’) jesus christ it literally makes NO SENSE how much i love this man. please, keep the billy requests coming, i love writing for him!!!! pre murders, during murders, post murders, fluff, angst, you name it!!! i’ll write anything for him at this point <3 thank you for requesting @manyfandomsfanvergent, i loved writing this one and i really appreciate people sending requests :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The only light in the room was the one that came from the little lamp by your nightstand, barely enough to make certain corners of the bedroom visible enough. A soft but chill end-of-summer breath sneaked through the slightly open window, chilling the room down and forcing you to cover even better with your bed’s covers, since you had no energy to get up and close it. 

The comforting covers’ weight wasn’t enough that day to make you feel anything different than the despair that had attacked your day since the moment you had woken up, and all you wanted was to fall asleep and face a new, better morning. But of course, nothing could go correctly, and your mind wouldn’t stop spinning and spiraling, keeping you wide awake instead of letting you drift into a sweet dream. Just great.

Billy hadn’t really noticed you were having a bad day, you had played it cool enough during your time together at school for his careful eye not to catch anything out of character, so his visit wasn’t really justified apart from wanting to get out of his house and possibly spend more time with you. When he saw that your window was open, he didn’t even try to warn you of his arrival, instead choosing to climb like he was already used to — he had probably used the door to your house once, that time he had come to check how you were feeling during that day you had skipped class because of being sick. 

His eyes scanned the room from outside before he finally lifted himself with the help of his arms and slid into your bedroom, not used to so much darkness. Billy was surprised to not see you sitting on your desk, doing the English essay you had due tomorrow — he knew you hadn’t started because you had mentioned during lunch while you talked with Sidney. His eyebrows raised slightly when he saw you coddled on bed, covers and sheets almost completely covering your head. 

“Everything alright, doll?”

His presence and voice triggered you so badly — given that, during your laments, you hadn’t heard him, especially considering how stealthy he always tried to be —, that you sat up, letting the covers fall around you as your heart beated desperately against your chest. You relaxed when you saw it was just Billy, but your heart continued to furiously attempt to break out from its place.

“Jesus, Billy, don’t ever scare me like that.” You muttered rather quickly, and then you let yourself go back to your previous position in bed. Billy smiled to himself as he made his way to your bed, slowly. You felt the mattress dip down when he sat by the end of it, and you sighed. “It’s just… a bad day.”

Billy looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Hm?”

You gave in, letting your voice come out all muffled as you pressed your face against the pillow. “Terrible, actually.”

“Oh, no.” He chuckled, and you knew he wasn’t laughing at you when his weight shifted and he crawled to your side, mindful of not letting his boots touch your clean covers. When you moved your face away from the pillow, you saw his face just some inches away from yours, boring his eyes into yours. “What are we gonna do about that?”

A soft smile blossomed in your lips while his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb lovingly brushing against your skin. “Come cuddle?” You whispered hopefully.

Billy just hummed, and the two seconds you had to wait for him to get rid of his boots was excruciating. Once he was barefoot, he slid next to you under the covers, his arms coming to surround you and press you closely against him — you wished more people knew this version of him. He looked gloomy and even scary from the outside, but his sweetness was betrayed by his eyes and his actions, not only with you, but with those he loved.

“There.” He said softly when your head came to rest in his chest. His heartbeat was slow, grounding, comforting, but most of all, familiar. “I missed you.”

You dismissed the fact you had seen each other throughout most of the whole day, and instead tried your best to lift your gaze to him. “Did you really?”

“Mhm.” Billy hummed softly, his fingers rubbing circles against your arm. “Thought about you the whole day. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” 

“Your day?”

“Oh.” Your head instantly started to shake, a silent no that was quickly followed by, “Not really.”

You only knew he had acknowledged that because of the way he hummed, the vibrations reverberating against your head pressed to his chest. It was a warm feeling, fuzzy, that made you smile softly. You inhaled his scent slowly, letting his perfume surround you in that comfort your covers hadn’t been able to give you.

“You’re comfortable.” You muttered after some seconds, hiding your smile.

Billy couldn’t help but snort. “You’re not using me as a pillow.”

“I already am.”

“But you’re easy to shove.”

Laughter spilled from your mouth, and your arms came to surround his waist, under all the sheets covering you. “No!”

With a soft smile you didn’t see, Billy heard your laughter continue and eventually die, leaving just the trace of a genuine smile in your pretty face. His breath could have caught in his throat if this had been the first time he had ever seen you like this, but instead, he recognized the sight and the familiarity it brought him almost overwhelmed him.

“You laughed.” He said, after some minutes.

You frowned slightly. “Uh?”

“I made you laugh.” Billy pointed out, and you could hear the boyish grin in his lips. “Even when you were sulking so badly.”

“Get over it.” You said with a roll of your eyes, but not moving an inch from him. “It was a bad day, not a bad life.”

Billy just shook his head, his smile growing with every passing second, and holding you impossibly closer to him. You could get used to this, you thought, as you closed your eyes to focus on the heartbeat beating happily because of you. You’ve gotten used to this, you realized when Billy’s hand lifted your head with just tapping your chin, getting you to look at him with stars in your eyes that he certainly reciprocated. 

“Kiss me?” You muttered, like asking for a promise.

He smiled, watching you for a few seconds before he finally leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was a promise.

the scream fandom is starving from lack of mickey altieri fanfiction and it looks like it's my job to fix that smh

Heyyyyyyy can you do a Mickey Altieri x gn!reader and they are both in the same film class and the reader and Mickey are rivals and they get paired on a project together and after they get a good grade on it they realize that they really like eachother and they kiss at the end 😍

But if you do end up doing this thank you so much!!!!!

Also the reader and Randy are besties

I will be back with Stu and Billy requests later ☺️

Mickey Altieri x Reader: happy fools

Warnings: Swearing (probably), mentions of food (no ed), reader doesn’t eat because they have no money to afford it (no ed), reader has money problems, reader has a scholarship that pays for a big part of their living, sucky boss, money problems, mentions of the theater murders and the woodsboro murders, no mentions of mickey being part of the murders but no mention of him not being part of the murders either.

Tags: academic rivals to lovers dynamic, reader dislikes mickey more than mickey dislikes reader, mickey is annoying but loveable, randy is reader’s best friend, cici is perfect and we love her for that, reader ends up liking mickey, group project

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 3767

Summary: Mickey and Reader have been rivals since they started college, but they’re paired up for a Film Theory project together.

Author’s note: SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG @alexhostghost. i loved this req!!!!!! rivals/enemies to lovers all the way!!!!!! i think i made this reader a bit more specific with the whole schoolarship and money problems thing, but i hope it's still good and liked <3 also i listened to happy fools on a loop so there you go. graphic is mine !!

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

“No, it’s a perfect example of life imitating art, imitating life.” Mickey interrupted Cici matter of factly, with that assholish grin you had learned to roll your eyes at. Cici opened her mouth to debate that, but Mickey was faster, following with his reasoning. “It’s really not that difficult to understand, guys.”

It all had started when Professor Robinson had asked all of you if you had heard the news of two campus students getting murdered in the opening for the new, flashy slasher film, Stab. The movie was based on true events, which had transcurred at a town called Woodsboro less than a year ago — your friend Randy, from your same major, had been one of the key survivors of that same massacre —; and its reality had quickly become a topic of discussion for your classmates. 

Mickey, one of Randy’s friend and who you barely could handle during classes because God was he always trying to be better than you, and other boys had started arguing that the murders had been a direct consequence of the nature of the film, to which Cici Cooper had instantly replied calling out their absolute bullshit. You couldn’t agree more with Cici, but Mickey’s attitude diminishing what your friend tried to very politely explain had made you scoff and straighten in your chair.

“Life doesn’t and shouldn’t imitate art.” You found yourself saying, rather loudly. Mickey’s eyebrows shot up your way, and you guessed you could continue talking, as now Professor Robinson was looking at you expectantly. “And also, calling that Stab movie is such an overstatement — it’s trash. Even the book on which is based, The Woodsboro Murders? It sucks dick. ”

“It actually happened.” A girl from one of the front rows said, and you clicked your tongue.

For a second or two, your eyes drifted to Randy, who only scrunched his nose slightly to show he was actually listening. You couldn’t imagine how discussing the murders he had seen less than a year ago felt for him, but you weren’t about to stop — and Randy wasn’t one to stop a good debate from happening, either.

“No shit?” You inquired, sarcasm dripping from your tongue, and Cici by your side laughed as the girl that had spoken just rolled her eyes. “What I’m trying to say it’s the writing itself sucked, I can’t do anything about the real story. The thing is violence, and less along murder, can’t be excused by the argument of ‘they watched too many movies’. It just doesn’t work like that.”

Cici pointed at you with a smile on her face. “Thank you!”

“Whoa, there.” Mickey called out from the back of the class, forcing you to turn your head slightly to look at him. “Nobody was trying to excuse it.”

Your head cocked to the side. “Why won’t you just admit that you’re wrong?”

Humdrum bursted into the class, as light whistles and laughter could be heard from your comeback, slowly easing a little grin into your face while you stared back at Mickey. His lips corners also raised, amused with how you had slightly caught him red handed, and you ended up turning your head to the front of the class when Professor Robinson took everyone’s attention by coughing fakely.

“Well, I’m just going to chirp in during my class to remind you that you guys can actually share your opinions outside of class.” Mister Robinson said with a smile on his face. 

When Cici chuckled under her breath, like many others, and nudged you in your side, you just rolled your eyes. You could tell the class was close to end as people around you started subtly gathering their things, and also by the way Mister Robinson glanced at the clock in the classroom before he stopped leaning onto his desk.

“Before you all go,” he said, stopping everyone’s movements. His hand pointed at the cork board in the back of the classroom, rather lazily. “I wanted to tell you that the pairs and subjects of this term’s project are already available for you to check in the back of the classroom. Remember you must do well on your presentations, since it will not only count as half of your grade, but your classmates’ too considering all the subjects will be parts of the upcoming exam.”

Most groaned, but you just looked away and started gathering your things calmly, knowing most of your classmates would rush to the cork board and wouldn’t let you see until some minutes had passed. Mister Robinson had already left the classroom when complaints about the partners or the subjects started to rise between the students, and you only heard half of what Cici was telling to the other girl about her subject, Auteur theory. 

Once you had your things, you lifted from your seat and dodged the other desks and chairs to reach the cork board where, among others, was Randy. You knew you hadn’t been paired up together from the moment he turned to look at you with a funny expression you couldn’t quite crack, and that was truly a pity — you two had grown pretty close for the last couple of weeks since your first project together, in that same Film Theory class.

“You’re gonna like this.” He muttered once you placed yourself by his side, making you frown.

“Why?” You asked, but before he could answer, your eyes started scanning the list printed and hung on the board, searching for your name. Oh. Your lips pursed instantly, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh, fuck.”

You could already feel his presence behind you, his stupid and annoying grin as Mickey said, “Looks like we’re gonna have to stop fighting.”

“You could be a great team.” Randy agreed softly as he searched for your eyes, but you rolled them again — it’s funny, you realized as he chuckled softly. It’s funny for him, because Randy didn’t have to work with his so-called rival, you did.

Without saying anything to either of them, you turned around and walked out of the classroom with your mind too occupied with all you have to do other than stay around with a jerk and your friend. Your rent is due and the money from your scholarship is not coming for some reason, and you also have a ton of homework and extra shifts to cover for the lack of money — you literally did not have the time.

You were already out of the building, deep in your thoughts, when you heard someone calling out your name. You recognized the voice, so you barely turned to see Mickey jogging towards you with his backpack on only one shoulder and his dumb camera on his left hand — you didn’t even stop walking, which absolutely made him call out your name again.

“Hey, hold up!” He chuckled with that wide grin of his, the one you were used to rolling your eyes at. However, this time you held yourself back, having done that too many times in the last minutes, and now you actually listened to him, stopping your walking to let him catch up.

Mickey flashed a smile when he reached you, accommodating the strap on his shoulder to make sure his backpack wasn't falling to the ground. “We have to cooperate now, we’re a team.”

“Lucky me.” You muttered, and after checking he was finally willing to walk, you resumed your pace with him by your side.

“When are you free?” He asked, choosing to ignore your lack of enthusiasm. 

You truly didn’t understand it — you didn’t hate Mickey, or you guessed so. He was just annoying to you, always saying the exact opposite of what you said just for the hell of getting under your skin. Just a few weeks of classes, and he had finally won the position of your rival, so his amusement for the situation wasn’t really something you could understand.

“Not today.” You chose to say, head shaking to get rid of your cavilations. If you hadn’t known Mickey better, you could have sworn he looked taken aback, so you added, “But Formalism is an easy theory, so we can start researching by ourselves meanwhile.”

“We still have to pick a date.” Mickey insisted, his head cocked to the side and without taking his eyes away from you.

You snorted softly. “What, do you really have a busy enough life to need everything planned to the minute?”

“You’re not getting rid of me.” He replied with a sing-song, without answering your sarcastic question.

“Do I have to tell you now?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Fine.” You stopped dead in your tracks, surprising him, but he immediately turned to look at you, your arms crossed on top of your chest. “Tomorrow after lunch, outside of the library.”

A smile crossed his face, and you could have sworn he blinked at you as he walked away, saying, “Perfect. See you there, then!”

You were late, you knew, and it irked you. It hadn’t being your fault, if you saved the part in which you had agreed to do an extra shift at your job to get some extra money — you were in dire need of cash, and still, your boss hadn’t paid you after that, arguing he would give you all the money he owed you when the official time had come. So, you were tired, late to your date for the project with Mickey, hungry because you hadn’t eaten in the whole day and with no extra money.

At least you hadn’t been late enough to make Mickey leave from the library doors, which relieved you as you quickened your pace to reach him. Mickey watched you without his usual smile, probably annoyed because of the solid fifteen minutes he had been waiting for you; but he only frowned when you folded once you arrived to his side, catching your breath. Have you been running? — Mickey searched for traces of sweat in your forehead and skin, and he found them, little pearls of rushed sweat that exposed you to him forming near your hairline.

“I’m sorry.” You said, before he could open his mouth, and you tried your best to straighten yourself so you could look into his eyes. “I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Mickey assured with a curious glimmer in his eyes. His head tilted to the side as he watched you breathe heavily. “Is everything alright? You shouldn’t have run.”

“I didn’t run.” You lied rather dryly, and you pushed your hair off your shoulder and away from your face. The sound that came from your starving stomach wasn’t too loud, but Mickey heard it, which only mortified you more — how more could you embarrass yourself? “Sorry, I haven’t eaten anything today. Anyways, should we–?”

Mickey interrupted you quickly. “What do you mean you haven’t eaten?”

You blinked once, processing his question. “I’m running low on money and skipped lunch to do an extra shift at work.”

“What about breakfast?”

“Mickey, drop it. I had no time, and it's not like my fridge is full. We need to work now, I’ll eat something later.”

When you tried to dodge him to finally go into the library, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “You’re not going in there without eating something first.”

“Excuse you?” You hissed, a frown becoming visible between your eyebrows, astounded that he would have the audacity to tell you what you could and couldn’t do.

“If you die, I’ll have a bad conscience.” Mickey replied, with a little smirk that was even more annoying than the way he was trying to control you. It was for a good reason, sure, but still. “We’ll work at a café, where you can have something to eat.”

You scoffed, and moved your hand away from him so he would let go, which worked. “What part of I’m running low on money you didn’t understand, Altieri? I can’t afford lunch at a café.”

“My treat.” He insisted, as his smirk dropped. It made you realize, that gesture, that he was completely serious about what he was saying.

But for some reason, owing him money of all people made you feel terrible. “I’m not letting you buy me food.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, now as equally annoyed as you were. “Then you’ll pay me back once you get your hands on your money, alright? Please? We’re wasting time here.”

You couldn’t help but click your tongue, but when you took a glance at the watch on your wrist, you realized he was right. With your lateness and the bickering, you two had already lost more than twenty minutes in which you should have been working on your Formalism project. He was right, and you hated that.

“Fine.” You grunted lowly, and he only smiled, before he led the way to one of the cafés outside of campus.

It was awkward, having him buy you lunch. You had always liked to think of yourself as a very independent person, and honestly, you thought you were. College life was stressful but a blessing in this aspect, although the money and tuition fees were certainly something worth bawling your eyes for. You had always had money problems and managed and planned your life on campus around that, but it was also true that you had never gone without having something for breakfast or lunch because of having to save money for something more important. Fortunately, that very same morning you had received a warning that your warning would come late but still come, but that didn’t make the fact of having Mickey behind you and watching what you would choose for him to pay any better.

“You can choose whatever.” He said, after you spent five slow minutes trying to figure out which sandwich from the ones displayed in the cafe’s counter would be less expensive. You looked at Mickey from the corner of your eyes, but he wasn’t looking at you, maybe to make things easier for you. “It’s not like I’m gonna go broke for buying you lunch.”

With a hum, you acknowledged his words. You stared at the sandwiches ahead, and murmured, “Thanks.”

After you had chosen two different sets of sandwiches and some juice that looked delicious — and after Mickey had ordered a coffee with a ridiculously little amount of milk —, you carried your tray to one of the empty tables in the back of the establishment while Mickey paid. You put the folder of information you had found about Formalism next to your tray and started eating without waiting for him.

You watched him walk towards your table, coffee mug in his free hand, while the other carried his black wallet. Now that you were eating, you no longer felt embarrassed for having someone paying for your food once, and for a second, you forgot how little you were used to getting along. It’s not like you hated him — if you did, you wouldn’t have let him buy you anything.

“Better?” Mickey asked as he slid into the seat across from you.

Shortly, you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“There’s no rush.” He said, before he took a sip of his coffee. When you found yourself staring at him too much, finding his unshaven stubble more attractive than usual, you forced yourself to look away. “I know how expensive tuition fees are.”

“Yeah, well, I have a scholarship. The money should be coming, that’s the thing.”

Mickey watched you curiously. “I did not know you had a scholarship.”

“I do.” You murmured. Outside of class, you had never really talked to him much. He was close friends with Randy, sure, but the timing had never been right between you two — and you were always busy, something for which Randy always teased you. “Anyways, I have been doing some research about Formalism. It’s an easy subject, but we’re going to have to explain it really well.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mickey nodded, agreeing with you, and he once again took a sip off his coffee. “Is that folder what you found? You finish your food and I’ll start reading.”

With a hum, you nodded your head and Mickey leaned in to grab your folder and open it. His eyes started scanning over the documents you had printed, and you went back to focusing on your sandwiches, but you noticed the slight smile that appeared in his mouth once he saw your calligraphy in between the documents.

Mickey was actually someone nice to be around, and you slowly discovered that your rivalry had been wrongly directed to a fake image you had of him. If he had ever been annoying with you, arguing for absolutely every single thing you said, it was because he was that kind of funny; and it was rather easy to befriend him after the hours you spent together on the Formalism project. Sooner than later, your project was finished, and college life continued like it always had before that.

Mister Robinson took a whole two weeks to mark all the projects after all the pairs’ presentations were done. Randy had actually confessed to you, after you and Mickey had explained the theory that had been assigned to you with a slide presentation that had been his idea, that you two had probably been one of the best presentations — after his, of course. It was still a compliment, coming from him.

“Star Trek is better than Star Wars, I don’t care.” One of the girls in your class insisted, prompting a bunch of booing and another bunch of claps.

When you lifted your head from laughing at the improvised debate that had formed something Mister Robinson had said while explaining the main themes in film for the last few years — the poor man was probably sick of these debates, but he always listened, aware it was important for his students to communicate their ideas eloquently —, you found that Mickey was profusely shaking his head at what the girl had said. 

“Star Wars is just George Lucas inserted into a different, low budget and worse Star Trek universe.” Another boy said, backing the girl up, and now it was Randy who was shaking his head.

“Comparing Star Wars to Star Trek is absurd.” Randy said, pitched raised slightly so he would be heard. “Not because of one being better than the other, that’s not the point at all. You wouldn’t compare The Godfather with Goodfellas, would you?”

Even Mister Robinson laughed at that, finding that Randy was right — once again. You just shook your head as you laughed when Cici turned to look at you with an incredulous eyebrow raised, like you could actually control all the shit that came from Randy’s mouth.

“Before you leave.” Mister Robinson called out, his eyes raising to the clock on the wall, like he was used to doing now due to the constant introductions during his classes. The humdrum around you, caused by the people gathering their things, didn’t stop you from listening to what he had to say. “You can find the marks for your projects in the cork board.”

You waited seated, recalling the time in which he had said the opposite — that the pairs and subjects could be found in that same place —, and knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see anything if you went with all the people who wanted to see it right then. It surprised you seeing that Randy and Cici made their ways into the masses of people, and then left once they had taken a peak at their marks.

Once the classroom started to empty, you got up from your chair and walked to the cork board, dodging Mickey and another boy talking back at the first’s desk. Before you made your way to the board, the boy left the classroom, and it was only you and Mickey.

“Mickey.” You called out as soon as your eyes identified your names together, your voice almost coming strained. “We got the highest grade.”

“We did?” Mickey laughed, getting up from his desk and walking towards you, his eyes focused on the sheet of paper. “Oh, holy shit, we did.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, but your voice came out as a mutter. “Wow.”

“We make a hell of a good team, then.”

Holding back your smile, you looked up to him — Mickey wasn’t hiding his smile, letting it shine over you, and you didn’t feel the need to roll your eyes anymore. Lately, as you spent more and more time with him, you had forgotten about your need to be annoyed by him, and instead grew into an urge to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. It was like a positive intrusive thought, although still scary.

You blinked once when he called out your name. “You’re staring.”

“Is that bad?” You let out before you could stop yourself, but you started to feel embarrassed.

Before you could look away or cringe at what you had said, Mickey’s smile turned softer as he looked at you. “You tell me.”

You chuckled softly and looked away while shaking your head slightly. It was weird feeling your heart beat so fast against your chest, but you pushed through the feeling.

“Listen, I still have to repay you for that lunch and I was thinking…” Your head lifted again, so you could lock eyes with him, and you almost went breathless when you saw the intensity with which he was looking at you. “Would you have dinner with me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Mickey asked, his smile growing impossibly wider.

The nerves got the best of you, as you started to stumble, “I mean, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a date but yeah, it could be if you wanted to–”

“I’d love to go on a date with you.” He said, interrupting your embarrassment, and you smiled as a thank you. Mickey looked so pretty as he lowered his head slightly, like he was telling you a secret. “And I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s okay.”

Oh, what a rush of dumb happiness was your body receiving right now.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.” You muttered, and as soon as you said it, Mickey moved closer to you.

His hand rested on your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and his lips pressed against you in the exact same way you had imagined — just a few times before — they would. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back.

hi!! i'm not sure if you'd be comfortable with this, but would you be able to do something with billy loomis x reader where the reader is possibly plus sized and has old sh scars? if you're not comfortable with the last part i understand.

Billy Loomis x Reader: draw stars around my scars

Warnings: Swearing (probably), self-harm topics, self-harm scars, reader did self-harm but now is better, bad reaction at first, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS ARE GOING TO TRIGGER YOU.

Tags: healing, reader can be read as plus size, reader has stretch marks, reader has self-harm scars, projecting heavily

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1122

Summary: Billy sees Reader's self harm scars for the first time, on accident.

Author’s note: hi, thank you for requesting! this was healing to write, to be honest. as someone who dealt with self-harm for very long years, all i can say is that it does get better, you have to believe for a better way out for yourself and be very focused on your goal on staying clean. no one deserves to hurt themselves, i promise. if any of you reading this is at a very bad moment, if you self-harm, please know that my inbox and dms are always open for you to rant, even if we've never ever talked before. you can send whatever you want, do it with anonimity if you want through my inbox. but please, know that you're not alone. please, you need to do your best to get help, and if you can't, you must believe in yourself.

i never got help, and i'm still here, and honestly, i thought i would have ended all of this more than two years ago. please, please, stay strong. find your passion, stick to it. i'm leaving this my chemical romance song, because they really got me through my worst times, and the lyric "I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scars. Give a cheer for all the broken. Listen here, because it's who we are." really resonated with me and made me believe there was more than hurt. i'm always here for you <3

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

Having Billy over wasn’t weird, in fact, you had grown so used to him sleeping around and staying until very late hours in your bedroom, that not having him there sometimes got lonely and awkward. You didn’t know much about the situation between his parents other than they had been fighting a lot lately, but that was enough, and you didn’t need to know more to offer a place for him to stay.

That night, you had just come out of the shower with the warm towel around your body when you heard some sounds outside your window. They were the kind of sounds stones made against wood, the kind of sounds Billy made to let you know he was outside, but you still got closer to the window to check if it was him. You saw him outside, with his denim jacket closed around his torso and his hand holding little stones he had gathered around your garden, waiting for you. When he saw you, he waved slowly and gestured to the window, for you to open it.

Making him a sign to wait, you stepped away from the window and hurried to put some clothes on before opening the window for him to climb and enter your bedroom. You settled for a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, leaving the towel on top of your bed so you could finally let him enter.

Once you opened the window, you stepped back knowing he would climb up without any difficulty — he had really grown to master the art of climbing through your window. Billy was fast, and no longer holding the stones since you had finally realized he was outside, he appeared by your window and jumped inside with ease. 

“I’ve been outside for fifteen minutes.” He grunted as he cleaned his palms against his jeans, then pushed the rebel strands of his black hair away from his eyes.

“I was showering, I didn’t hear you.”

That made him look up, that little but still sweet smile of his appearing in his lips because God, did he like being with you — and it disappeared when his eyes landed on a particular place on your thighs, and you knew what he was looking at as soon as his eyes snapped back onto yours, something close to rage filling them up.

You had always been so careful hiding your scars. Lately, it was more because of not wanting to have difficult and awkward conversations and not because of being a constant in your life — the self-harming had stopped some time ago already, you had outgrown it, realizing that hurting yourself was something that you did not deserve. The scars were tricky to see, considering they were placed high on your thighs, and even if you wore regular shorts they were almost impossible to see, but these cotton shorts were shorter than usual. 

“Billy—”

“Tell me you’re not doing any of that shit to yourself.” He demanded, and his voice sounded as cold as ice, as hard as steel. Billy wasn’t going easy on this, and you didn’t expect less out of him.

“It was a long time ago.” You said, your voice remaining calm. It was for a few seconds, but your eyes followed him in the path to your thighs, to the scars matching the stretch marks. They were part of you now. “I’m alright now.”

The breath that Billy let out was shaky, which surprised you. He got a step closer to you, then regretted and backed away slightly. You knew his eyes were now scanning your arms, and you knew that, if he looked hard enough, he could also see the ones there — that, or you were the only one who could see the invisible traces the razor had carved into your skin in your worst moments, which was also possible. Some sights were impossible to forget.

“You are okay?” Billy asked softly, with a reason to doubt you. You had been dating him for months, being friends for years, but you still hadn’t told him — you had let him figure it out, by accident. 

You nodded. “I promise. I am. I’m clean, I’ve been clean for more than a year.”

Billy nodded slowly, almost like he wasn’t paying attention — but you knew he was. His steps were quick when he walked towards you and pulled you into a swift, loose hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tight around him. You wished you could go back and show that moment to your past self, as a promise that everything would work out, that you deserved better. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked in a whisper, and if you didn’t know him better, you could have sworn his voice was strained with emotion. It was. “I could’ve… fuck. Don’t ever do that again, please.”

“I know, I know, it was just…” You shook your head and let yourself hug him a little bit tighter. “It was difficult, bad timing and all… I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry I wasn’t there—”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

Billy pulled back slightly from you, looking into your eyes in earnest. “It’s not yours either.”

You smiled softly, and caressed his cheek with tenderness written all over your face. You hadn’t loved anyone more in your whole life. “I know.” You said, nodding your head, and it was true.

Billy watched you again, carefully, from head to toe, and only closed his eyes once he convinced himself that you were alright. It wasn’t something violent to see, it was calming — his worry for you, although at first rather rough and unmoving, healed the open wounds in you that always tried to lead you back into your old ways. The sickness of the addiction had been the worst, wanting to stay clean but slumping again, and again and again, but you were better now. You should have believed when you had heard that things would get better.

In silence, Billy pointed at your bed with his head, as his hand slid into yours firmly but softly. You only nodded, and put the towel away before you two slid into your covers. His hand wrapped around your hips, and it took you a little to realize that his fingers were deftly tracing your scars around, small tickles caressing your skin.

“I’m okay.” You muttered with a little smile on your lips, looking up to him.

Billy hummed lightly, and his lips came to your forehead, kissing you tenderly. You searched for his free hand and shifted around to find a comfortable position, snuggling against him, and feeling calm for the little, incoherent drawings his fingers made into your skin.

HEY I KNOW YOUR WORKING IN MY OTHER REQUEST RN BUT HEADCANNONS ON WHAT DATING RANDY WOULD LOOK LIKE KINDA LIKE AN EXTENSION ON THE CUDDLING HEADCANNONS YOU JUST DID 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Randy Meeks Heacanons: Dating Randy would include.

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral.

Summary: Dating Randy headcanons!!

Author's note: RANDYYYYYYYYYYYY not enough works for him, so i gotta keep up with his requests. also kudos to alex for requesting constantly with great ideas :) i had so much fun making these.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

a lot of forehead kisses

cheek kisses too

he just looks like the type. he's gotta go to class? have a cheek kiss. you're meeting up? cheek kiss. you made him laugh? cheek kiss. going to sleep? cheek kiss. whatever, cheek kiss.

him being rather shy at the beginning of your relationship, but growing bolder as the time passes.

holding hands!!!! he loves holding hands. he actually blushed the first time you guys held hands, he's that cute.

getting along with his little sister martha!!! even teaming up against him with her lmao.

lots of dates, and a lot around getting food/eating/cooking/going to restaurants.

but i'm also not gonna lie, movies and dates are a big deal.

movie marathons! movie nights! going to the theater!

cuddling with randy (headcanons here)

you better not like guilty pleasure movies too much because if he has to cinematically roast you HE WILL.

learning a lot about movies and cinematography because he doesn't shut the fuck up.

but it's not like you want him to shut up like, ever.

competing to see who can insult people more 'culturally'

(like homo-repressed mama's boy, creepy tarantino film student, leatherface, pussy ass-wet-rag)

he likes dancing with you and will do so with absolutely every excuse he can think of.

the kind to get drunk, flirt with you and get really sad when you tell him you have a very loving boyfriend (he doesn't realize that's him)

really sweet

if he ever meets your parents, he'll most probably win them over. he's still walking on eggshells around them.

compliments you/what you're wearing every single day.

even if it's just your socks, he always says something nice to you.

he's so greatful to have you.

the type to walk out of arguments when things get heated, before any of you can say anything you'd regret.

he adores you, he could listen to every single thing you say for the rest of his life.

randy doesn't care if you're just talking about your favorite type of pen, he'll listen like you're trusting him with the secrets of the universe.

he remembers a lot of little details because of this.

call him 'pretty boy' and he'll be yours forever.

not a cheater :) (THE BARE MINIMUM---)

he rarely ever lies to you. he'd let you go down to the basement with him in a horror movie, and that's a shit lot of trust.

quotes different romantic dialogues from different movies, but it's always at the most unexpected/worst timing.

he's so goofy i love him.

always making sure you're okay, no matter where you at. it doesn't have to be a frat party for him to worry about your well-being

randy walks you everywhere, no matter how impractical that can be.

especially at night. he doesn't want you to go out alone when it's dark.

overall, he's a really good boyfriend, although i'm not getting involved with the angsty stuff.

Mickey Altieri comforting an autistic, overstimulated reader?

Mickey Altieri Heacanons: Overstimulated autistic S/O.

Warnings: Maybe there's swearing?? It's me, so…, overstimulation.

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neutral

Summary: Mickey Altieri with an overstimulated autistic s/o. 

Author's note: first of all, thank you for requesting! i did headcanons for this because i felt like it would be more appropiate. as a neurodivergent person (not autistic) who gets overstimulated several times, i got really happy that i had an excuse to write about the subject. i am not autistic myself, so there could be mistakes in the way i portrait overstimulation, but i did these with research and basing it in what i can see from my perspective. hope it's accurate enough, and if not, feel free to educate me <3. overstimulation is different in everyone, i guess, but that doesn't mean your experience is less valid.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

i headcanon mickey as a very observant person.

so if the overstimulation comes in a very crowded or lonely place, he'll notice either way.

he's very caring, so you bet he's gonna have an eye on you whenever you feel overstimulated. you don't even have to tell him.

if you go mute, mickey is asking no questions and instead just leads you to a lonely place in which you can recharge your energy, or just feel better.

if you start getting irritated, he's not snapping at you no matter what. mickey will just look at you and try to let you know that he understands, all that with just his gaze.

oh, but if you don't go mute, you BET he's the communication king.

"can i touch you?"

"do you want my headphones? i have that tape you like."

·do you wanna go somewhere quieter?"

"do you need something? i'll get it for you."

"do you want me to bring you your blanket?"

"should i shut up?"

if you need him quiet, he's not opening his mouth until you explicitedly ask him to.

will have his arm around you if you need it.

and will always offer you his hand in case you need something to hold/touch/fiddle with.

he's full of patience, making him snap isn't easy.

but if someone is visibly bothering you while you're overstimulated... oh boy.

doesn't want to baby you, either, so he's told you to go off at his ass if he ever does it.

but the turht is that it's really helpful having him around whenever you feel this way.

he means well <3

he'll hold you tight if you need him to.

if you don't want to go to a place with your friends because you're too overstimulated but you don't want to tell them, don't worry bevause mickey has a physical list of excuses to get you out of those situations.

"shit, i'm sorry guys, y/n and i can't go? oh, why? well, my mom invited us for dinner, and it would be the third time we'd pass... yeah, can't let that happen."

he's a murderous sweetheart <3

hey!! i saw what you wrote about mickey, billy and stu taking care of the sick reader. so i was wondering if i could request something with billy and stu x the reader? basically, stu ends up catching the world’s WORST cold. we’re talking the poor love can barely get through a sentence because he keeps sneezing, shivering, and my god it is tissues galore up in this house.. SO, billy and the reader step up and insist on taking care of him! (sick stu would be so fucking adorable)

(also it’s up to you if you want to include billy or not!!) i don’t mind at all!)

ps: your work is absolutely AMAZING!! :)

Stu Macher Heacanons: Him catching a cold would include...

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english, poly!ghostface (aka poly relationship between reader and billy/stu. not a warning in reality)

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral (reader gets called 'angel' once)

Summary: Stu catching a terrible cold!!!!

Author's note: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING FOR STU, I LOVE YOU. he gives me so much comfort <3 i made this in the form of headcanons, hope you don't mind. also, anon is referring to THESE headcanons, so you should go and check them out. also thank you so much for the compliment, you're lovely <3 here's my billy and stu playlist because why not.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

i feel like you wouldn't find out about him actually catching a very bad cold until billy appeared on your doorstep with the news.

it would literally go like this,,,

"billy?"

"we're going to stu's. he's sick."

"oh, hell."

it wasn't often that stu got sick, but you knew the eternal annoyance journey a sick stu would put you through.

you still love him, he's always so adorable, but oh sick stu...

the firsts days are the worse for him, because those are the days in which he really feels sick and he's shivering and coughing and covering himself up in blankets.

but once those days pass... he becomes a menace.

billy is the bad cop, you're the good one. neither of you had really realized the reality of that dynamic until a bedridden, fiverish stu called you out.

you two have learned to take advantage of that, though

"i said put the fucking thermometer!"

"NO!"

"stop yelling, you two! stu, please, put it on."

"...fine."

billy makes him soup, and during the few times you don't stay by stu's side, you help billy with whatever he's doing in the kitchen.

first time, stu accidentally poured the soup over himself because of his hands shaking so much and the three of you panicked.

constantly checking for fever, by putting either your hand or lips to his forehead.

billy can take a lot of things, but not snots. he gets really grossed out at the amount of tissues in stu's room, so if stu is too sick or tired to throw them out, you do it for him.

the amount of attention he receives from the two of you is worth the cold for stu.

"i'm sick of the soup."

"c'mon, stuwie. billy made it for you. have one more spoon?"

if billy loses his patience with stu, you're there to ease him and ground him.

and it works the other way around, because stu may call you angel, but everyone can lose their patience.

when billy starts getting tired of stu's sickness, he locks himself somewhere else and copies homework and the notes that stu has missed from school. it helps him stop being so cranky.

"you can't smoke when you're sick."

"...please?"

"... i can't say no to you. if billy finds out we're dead, so make it quick."

watching movies with him !!! even if he keeps sneezing !!!

y'all can't cuddle like you use to, but billy sits on the floor, you sit on a chair and stu sits on his bed as you all watch the movie on his bedroom's tv.

okay, listen !!

reading to him so he falls asleep. hell yeah,,,

billy would read him stephen king or some of his scary books, and you read him whatever he wants --- even if it's just comics.

he's just so happy about having you two taking acre of him.

Imma need a part two on that chad story. (When ever you can ☺️)

Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader: are you a scorpio or not?

Warnings: swearing (i think), (bad) flirting, chad is so fine, i still have no idea about college life.

Tags: fluffy, part 2 of if it’s meant to be…, reader can be read as plus size reader or non white reader, (bad) flirting.

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1009

Summary: Reader’s path and Chad’s cross again.

Author’s note: it took FOREVER, but here it is!! part 2!! part 3 anyone? lmao. help i’ve fallen for this man and can’t get up. graphic is mine and i dropped my chad playlist in case someone wants to take a peak!

taglist: @shisuishoe @15byrinth

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas.

College was… intense. It was nothing like high school, people were right on that, but sometimes you were doubtful about which one you really liked more. As you made your way out of your classroom and started walking through Blackmore University’s campus, your mind was already busy with all the assignments, projects and research you would have to do during the weekend. Halloween had been less than a week ago, and although short, you had already gotten used to being rather free although there wasn’t a specific break, so going back was really crushing you.

Hordes of students crowded the campus, some of them talked loud about their plans for the weekend — frat parties, private gatherings —, and others did just the same as you, walking quietly and with their mind set to something, like the humdrum around them didn’t exist. You would have continued walking that way if you hadn’t had to forcefully dodge a group of people who didn’t even try to make a little bit of a way for you, ultimately making you lean too much to the left and bumping into what felt like an immovable rock.

“Oh, watch it!” You exclaimed, as your hand came to your shoulder to rub the slight pain away, but when your head lifted to see who you had bumped into, all the ugly words waiting to be said disappeared and your mind went blank for a whole second. You knew him — hell, you had flirted with him. “Chad?”

Chad’s eyes widened as he realized who you were — that beautiful and funny person who had stolen all his attention during the Halloween party, to only be met in the end with a mysterious and too forward quote when he had asked for your number. He had bumped into you completely out of accident, too focused on what Mindy was telling Anika to realize you were there too; but as soon as his eyes laid on you he stopped walking. “Hey!”

Anika and Mindy only turned slightly when they realized Chad wasn’t following, and after taking a look at the way you two were looking at each other, both of them tried not to roll their eyes and continued walking.

You felt yourself getting a little bit embarrassed, after all, he had only asked for your number and you had gone on to say that if it was meant to be, you would meet again. You had cringed for a full day, only calming yourself to the thought that you would probably not see each other ever again. But there he was, with his school bag hanging from his shoulder, a calm smile, looking at you and with his friends walking away from him. It looked unreal.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” He said, as soon as he realized you hadn’t said anything.

“No, no, it’s alright.” You shook your head, and you forced yourself to stop rubbing your shoulder. After all, the bump hadn’t hurt that much — he must have some good muscles under that hoodie, you found yourself wondering before you could stop yourself.

Chad only raised his eyebrows, teasingly. Oh, was he worthy of being the front page of a male model magazine. “You didn’t sound like it was alright.”

“That’s because I thought you were some jerk.” You explained, letting your feet shift slightly. 

You glanced at his group of friends, almost impossible to see considering how further away they were, but you held yourself back from telling him about it — maybe it was selfish, but you didn’t mind talking to him for a bit more, so you didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like he looked worried about being left behind.

“So you’re saying I’m not a jerk.” Chad grinned, while tilting his head to the side. Ah, there it was, that damn smile. It warmed your heart, childishly.

“Well, duh.” You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be talking to you if you were, would I?”

Chad hummed slightly, before he shrugged. “No clue, it’s not like I know you that well, y’know? Not even your zodiac sign…” And his grin came back.

You could only laugh at the way he was mirroring what you had told him during that Halloween party, and for some seconds, you looked away as a big smile made its way into your face. Chad watched you closely, still smiling, tenderness filling his eyes — you looked really pretty, and that thought crossing his mind made his grin turn into the sweetest smile, almost pure adoration dripping like honey.

“Yeah, but see…” Shrugging, you looked back at him. “That can actually be fixed.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Chad said as his smile grew even bigger, something you didn’t expect to be possible. He took a look around you, watching how the crowd of students coming out of their classrooms was already disappearing. “Do you happen to be free for a coffee? Because, I don’t know if you remember, but I owe you a drink.”

“Oh, I do remember.” Suddenly, all the things you had to do weren’t looking as important as they did. They certainly weren’t more important than that smile before you, and this time you hoped your friend wouldn’t come completely drunk to stop you from going further with him. Still, you glanced at your watch before saying, “Sure, I have time. Know any good places?”

Chad nodded, and as he passed by your side, his shoulder brushed yours to encourage you to get closer to him. “Just the perfect one.”

You got the hint and made sure to walk on his level, without bothering every time your shoulders brushed him; until he shamelessly let his hand touch yours. Your heart made a little bit of a jump at that, but after smiling, you allowed that touch to happen again. Maybe your quote hadn’t been so cringy.

“So, time for the truth.” Chad said as he looked right ahead, but his gaze dropped to look at you watching him curiously. “Are you a scorpio or not?”

Laugh spilled from your mouth.

TRAIL OF TEARS! | randy meeks x GN!reader (platonic)

SUMMARY: after a rough breakup, your best friend randy is seeking for comfort. and you being as close to him as you are, give him just that.

WARNINGS: mentions of breakups, provocation, hurt, loneliness, loss, small angst

WORD COUNT: my bet is that i didn’t check.. (I CBA)

If I live to see, the seven wonders!

I’ll make a path to the rainbow's end..

You were slowly swaying to the soft beat of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Seven Wonders’ through your headphones. God, you loved Stevie Nicks.

I'll never live to match the beauty, again..

You’d only came down to the kitchen to get a snack, but why not take the voice of Stevie with you at the same time?

The music was only playing faintly in your ears, enough for you to hear a knock at the door. Multiple friends had gave you advice on not having your volume up too loud, ranting about how you wouldn’t be able to hear shit as you grew up.

You weren’t exactly one for caring, but whatever..

Removing the headphones, you quickly turned the song off, wondering why the hell someone was at your house at 11:30pm on a Saturday night.

Plus, you were home alone. So that really didn’t make the eerie feeling any better.

You opened the front door to see Randy shivering under your porch, soaked to the bone. His nose was bright red and his eyes looked rather watery.

“Jesus, Randy! Why aren’t you at home? It’s pissing down outside!” You scolded, ushering him into your house.

“Sorry,” He sniffled, following behind. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You laughed. “Me? Being asleep by this time? Please. I’m an insomniac for god’s sake.”

“Right..”

You cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes slightly. Something was off about him. Very off..

“Are you sick?” You asked.

“No.”

Somehow, Randy just wasn’t Randy tonight. He wasn’t as loud as usual. Not even that, you were still surprised he was here stood in front of you. Randy would never turn up to your house unexpected and uninvited. The thought of disrupting other people’s privacy made him awkwardly uncomfortable. Especially at this time of night.

“Cmon up to my room, it’s cosier in there.” You motioned for him to follow you upstairs. Yes, your snack and headphones were both being abandoned back in the kitchen, but curiosity was getting to the best of you on behalf of why Randy had showed up like this.

When the two of you finally reached your room, you took his drenched coat from him, hanging it up nearby.

“So, what’s up?” You said, flopping down onto your back. Randy just quietly sat down on the foot of your bed.

He just sort of shrugged his shoulders, anxiously not really knowing what to say.

Now you definitely knew something was up. It was one thing if he was slightly awkward, but Randy Meeks giving someone the silent treatment? Nah, shit was getting weird.

You watched as he fiddled around with his rings, his hands beginning to shake.

“Randy?”

He finally looked up at you, ready to break at any moment. Tears began to spill out of his crystal blue eyes. Your heart sank when you saw his little lip quiver. It was obvious the poor love was desperately trying to keep everything in, but it was no use.

“Oh, Randy.” You whispered, sitting up and pulling the distraught, younger boy into a deep hug.

His sobs were muffled as he cried into your shoulder, just hearing them made you want to burst into tears yourself. Randy was never one to cry, ever.

He was willing to listen to other people when it came to them being upset, but no one had ever wanted to give him the same sort of action back.

Your friend group always saw him as some geeky idiot, following you guys around during all this years for whatever reason. Though, you would never bring yourself to agree.

Randy was only a regular teen, trying to enjoy himself most times. Whether it be making his best attempt to get people to laugh, or blabbing on about all movie genres he loved, you liked having his presence nearby you.

No matter the joke, he sure as hell always managed to get a giggle out of you. You’d remember that.

Pulling away from you, Randy wiped at his eyes furiously. “God, fuck.. i’m so sorry Y/n. You shouldn’t have to put up with this shit. I better go-”

“Randy Meeks don’t you dare apologise for being a human in front of me, boy!”

He chuckled slightly, still rubbing away at his now tired eyes. You offered him a tissue from the box nearby, motioning for the flustered male to take some.

He took a couple and thanked you, dabbing them around his nose. Now was your chance to get to the bottom of why he was in this current state.

“Okay stinker, spill. What’s wrong with ya?” You blurted out in a goofy tone regularly used by your other friend, Stu, rather than yourself. It didn’t matter. If it was willing to make Randy happy again, you’d do it.

On cue, Randy let a small laugh escape his lips. “If I do tell you, you won’t say anything to them, right?”

By them, you knew he was referring to Billy, Stu and Tatum. Sidney would never judge, but you and Randy both knew better than to trust the others with keeping their mouths shut about drama. Especially when it involved tears.

“Course I won’t.” You smiled softly at him, placing your hand on top of his larger, yet shakier one.

Randy sighed, scratching his chin. “You uh- you know Leslie from Science class?”

You bit your lip as you already knew what was coming. “Yeah, your… um- girlfriend?”

“I guess that term didn’t age well..”

‘Man, this kid would be in a grave before anyone would allow him to settle down and be happy..’ You said to yourself, internally. You’d always pitied him. He never seemed to get a break.

“Eh, her loss. In two years time she’ll be flashing her shit all over town. You deserve better, Randy. Much better.”

He perked up a little at your words. “You mean that?”

You giggled. “Why wouldn’t I? Your a good kid. Plus, I think Sid might have her eye on you.”

Randy raised both his eyebrows with surprise. Billy and Sidney were over one another and had broken up quite a while ago. The only couple still surviving in the gang was Tatum and Stu. But even at that, it was only really constant playfulness and flirting. Nothing the rest of you were sad that you had to miss out on.

“Hell, i’d never even thought of that.” He smirked.

“See!” You beamed. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea for you horror nerds.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted at your snarky joke, but he’d always feel comfortable knowing that when you added in little comments like that, they would always be nothing but a JOKE. Nothing more, nothing less.

You took a brief look at your watch. “Oft, it just hit midnight.”

“Shit!” He cried. “I gotta get back! I only told my Mom and Martha that i’d be back within an hour.”

“Relax, i’m home alone for the weekend, just crash here. We’ll order food from wherever the hell is open right now. You can call your mom from the house phone and explain. Perhaps we can have a late movie night?” You offered.

“I’d like that.” Randy smiled.

Heads, Hearts, and Hangovers

☆〜Pairing: Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader

☆〜Genre: Fluff

☆〜Word Count: 1.7k

☆〜Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, suggestive language, underage drinking

(Y/n) shuffled through the bursting halls of the Freeman residence, weaving her way through the swaying bodies as if she were swimming amidst a school of intoxicated fish. Scouring towards the kitchen, desperately seeking her girlfriend amidst the chaotic party scene. It was no secret that Amber had indulged in a few too many drinks-not that she hadn't herself-and now she stumbled around clumsily, attempting to lend a hand to fellow partygoers.

A door creaked to her left, a familiar denim jacket caught her eye as she stumbled to the side, eyes meeting her flushed lover as she fought with the stubborn door, juggling a cascade of beers in her arms like delicate newborns, her face glowed spotting her girlfriend through the crowd.

"Jesus Amber, what the fuck- here let me carry some," (Y/n) exclaimed, voice filled with concern and surprise as she reached out to take a few beers from Amber's overwhelmed grip.

Amber, however, shook her head stubbornly, a determined glint in her eyes. "Don't worry (N/n), I've trying to show off for my girlfriend,"

(Y/n) chuckled, her worry mingling with amusement, as she threw her hands up. "Alright, Hercules. But if you drop them, I'm not helping you to clean it up!"

Amber threw her head back in hysterics, stumbling in her tipsy state, bottles clinking together as she reached the kitchen counter, as the bottles tumbled and scattered across the counter, one rogue bottle dared to defy gravity, teetering precariously on the edge. (Y/n) stumbled forwards, grasping the neck before it plummeted to its demise on the sticky, rustic wooden floor, (Y/n) sent her most intimidating glare—which wasn't very intimidating due to her inebriated state—Ambers eyes widened in shock, her mouth gaping like a fish.

Amber regained her composure, grasping the beer bottle from her hands and popping the cap in between her teeth before deftly leveraging her jaw as a makeshift bottle opener. With a determined twist, the cap relinquished its grip, releasing a faint hiss of escaping carbonation. (Y/n) stood there, eyes wide with astonishment, momentarily frozen in a state of disbelief.

"I didn't know you could do that," she whispered, In the cacophony of the crowd, (Y/n)'s voice barely carried, but Amber still heard her. She handed her the beer, as her she opened her own.

Ambers arms snaked around her waist pulling her to her body. Lost in a moment of intimacy, she gazed into (Y/n)'s eyes, discovering a universe of stars twinkling within them. Amber leaned in closer to (Y/n)’s eyes dipping to her glistening lips.

"Yeah? If you think my mouth is impressive at opening bottles, you should see what else it can do."

(Y/n)'s fingers instinctively found the delicate silver heart pendant that adorned Amber's neck, using it as a tether to draw her closer. With a desperate pull, she closed the remaining distance, their lips meeting in a ravenous, passionate kiss. (Y/n)'s fingers found their way into Ambers's hair, gripping with fervent need. Ambers's hand lay on her cheek, her gentle hands caressing her softly, as her right hand rested on (Y/n)'s waist, the ice-cold beer sending shivers up her spine.

A whistle sounded from behind them, Amber pulled away, glancing over her shoulder into the living room, where Chad and Mindy sat watching a Stab movie.

"Get a room, you two!” Mindy shouted in a hazy state, hands cupped around her mouth, to be heard from across the house. Chad was chuckling beside her. (Y/n) whipped her head around, flipping the two off as they made their up to her room. (Y/n) giggled like the love sick teen she was, clutching Ambers hand tightly in her grasp, as they clambered the stairs.

Surprisingly, no horny houseguests had escaped to Ambers bedroom to have sex. Quietly shutting the door behind them, creeping into the room as if they were attempting to be discreet. The muffled sound of music entered the room through the drywall. It’s melodic rhythm and pulsating beats reduced to a muffled haze as it traversed through the walls. Faint vibrations tingled in the air, an auditory tapestry that whispered tales of distant celebration and drew her thoughts towards the lively atmosphere beyond her sanctuary. (Y/n) could feel the floor softly vibrating beneath her.

Amber held her hand softly leading her to the bed to lay down on the bed, the burgundy bedsheets welcomed her like a cloud as she sunk into the mattress. Amber switched off the room lights and lay down next to her, adjusting so (Y/n) could rest her head on her chest, lovingly stroking her hair. She let out a big sigh content with her lover in her arms, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark ceiling star she had scattered throughout. She used to be terrified of the dark when she was younger, afraid the monsters would come for her, but (Y/n) gave her an extra packet she had for her room. Ever since that moment, no matter where they were, the star would keep them linked, they were written in the constellations.

“I can’t believe we still have these up,” (Y/n) sighed caressing her waist, letting out a delicate giggle she uttered, “Who knew our thing would be luminous ceiling stars!”

Not receiving a response, (Y/n) broke her gaze from the ceiling to connect with Ambers affectionate gaze. No words were exchanged, but the emotions were palpable in their shared gaze. Their eyes spoke volumes, communicating a depth of emotion without uttering a single word. Silent but expressive, their gazes conveyed a tapestry of emotions: love, longing, understanding.

Both of them lay in a state of peaceful contentment, the stars softly illuminating the room, broken by a car's headlights shining in the driveway.

Everything was as it should have been.

Ambers's body tensed up, arms leaving (Y/n)’s huddled body and slamming them flat onto the sheets—startling poor (Y/n) who began to fall asleep—Amber sat straight up, straining her ears, head tilted towards the door, suddenly her head whipped round to face a concerned, confused (Y/n). She could tell by the look on her face, that whatever she was going to say was going to be something stupid, by the shit-eating grin plastered on her flushed cheeks.

“List- (N/n)Listen, it’s our song!” She exclaimed grasping her hands tightly.

“Amber, it’s Pitbull”

“I love this song,” she muttered to herself, she attempted to pull (Y/n) to her feet to dance with her, “Amber it’s Fireball by Pitbull, this isn’t our song?” (Y/n) burst out laughing tugging Amber back to her arms, she resisted.

“It can be!”

“I am not letting Mr fucking Worldwide be the song for my first dance,” Amber paused, arms going limp to her side, “first dance? You want to have your first dance with me?”

(Y/n) looked at her lovingly, eyes scanning her shell-shocked frame, her eyes wide, her eyes welling up slightly.

“though you’ll have to propose first-“Ambers's entire body moved at a lightning pace, hands grasping (Y/n)’s face pulling her in for a passionate kiss—which failed miserably—the two girls recoiled in pain as their heads collided, holding their foreheads in a mix of shock and pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to, babe, I’m so sorry,” Ambers's eye remained screwed shut, attempting to comfort her girlfriend by caressing her knee—which she now knelt beside in pain—in attempt to apologise for the erratic rush of affection she tried to display when her emotions overwhelmed her.

(Y/n) peeled open her eyes, more concerned for her girlfriend than herself, “It’s ok, baby, you didn’t mean to, I know,” she lightly touched her wrist moving it delicately away from her face, the area on the centre of her forehead being to explode in an aggressive red.

“Come on, I think it’s time for bed, we still have to clean the house tomorrow,” Amber groaned at the thought of having to clean up after the party, letting (Y/n) pull her into the bed beside her, both of them stripping themselves of their clothes to get more comfortable.

“Just so you know, I’d love to marry you someday (N/n),” Amber said while looking intently into her eyes, she placed a soft kiss on her red lips before closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s chest to sleep. Placing a peck to the top of her head, (Y/n) surrendered to her slumber.

A loud knock startled the two girls out of their deep rest. The morning sun streamed harshly through the curtains, casting its bright light in stark juxtaposition to the lingering glow of the ceiling stars that had illuminated the room the night before.

(Y/n) sat straight up, her head was pounding and the sunshine wasn’t doing her head much justice, reaching over Amber—who turned around burying her face into (Y/n)’s side, refusing to wake— to get some Tylenol for herself and her clingy girlfriend.

Tara peeked her head in through the small gap in the door, “You guys aren’t naked are you?” Her eyes were screwed shut in case she saw something she couldn’t erase from her mind if she tried.

Amber groaned into (Y/n)’s waist, sending a tickling sensation up her side, “completely nude,”

“Haha, seriously guys, Wes is down there attempting to make breakfast, I’d seriously get down there before he-“ Tara paused, examining both (Y/n)’s and Amber’s faces, “I expected hickeys, but Jesus Christ—what the fuck did you two do last night!”

Amber and (Y/n) both turned to face each other in confusion, the aftermath of their accidental collision present itself, as both Amber and (Y/n) were left with a visible mark etched upon their foreheads. A gentle, purplish-blue bruise adorned the skin, a tender reminder of their drunken mishap from the night before. Its presence, now in daylight, seemed to amplify the slight discomfort they felt.

“Shit!” Amber exclaimed, assuming hers didn’t look any better, (Y/n)’s hand gently felt around her forehead, the feel the extent of the pain. “We hit our heads against each other last night, when I tried to kiss her,”

At the explanation, Tara clutched her side, grabbing the door handle to stop herself from collapsing to the floor, “good luck trying to explain that to everyone!” She scurried off as quickly as she came, leaving the two girls alone once again. Amber shrugged laying back down to sleep, pulling (Y/n) down with her.

“I guess we have another thing that ties us together now,”

Please send in some requests for Scream <3

I fucking love Amber so much, and it was surprisingly easier to write for fxf than mxf, my sapphic side is really slaying today,.

Got my first request

Yay

Hurt/Comfort Tara x Reader coming soon

Finishing work at 4 today so I’ll start editing my new fic to get it out for tonight, here’s the banner I made for it, to get you a little hyped for it <3

Scream Masterlist

Scream

Stu Macher

I’m Not Dead, So I’m Not Done (part 1)

Synopsis: after the events of the Woodsboro massacre, Sidney and her girlfriend think they can live out their lives in peace, until familiar items keep popping up

Sidney Prescott

Coming soon…

Tatum Riley

Coming soon…

Scream 4

Jill Roberts

Shattered Unity [series]

Fragment 1: Part 1

Synopsis: Jill Roberts had everything, a perfect house, with a perfect family and a perfect little sister, who she cared for far more than she realised.

Kirby Reed

Coming soon…

Scream 5/6

Tara Carpenter

Solace

Synopsis: when (Y/n) receives concerning texts from Tara about a psycho phone call after a fight

In These Arms Of Mine

Synopsis: Tara think that just because she is the ghostface killer the people she loves are safe

Redemption

Synopsis: Tara is stuck in the hospital after Ghostface attack, when (y/n)’s absence becomes too much to bear after hearing a strange thud in the corridor

Sam Carpenter

Coming soon…

Mindy Meeks-Martin

Coming soon…

Amber Freeman

Heads, Hearts, and Hangovers

Synopsis: Amber and (Y/n) wake up with strange bruises after a drunk night out

Quinn Bailey

Coming soon…

Ethan Landry

Coming soon…

Anika Kayoko

Coming soon…

Rewatching the scream movie and just seeing Billy and Stu being such boyfriends makes me want to write a fic

Working on Shattered Unity right now and you all are going to be gobsmacked 💅💅💅

Also it’s a MULTIPLE PART SERIES, so going from Scream 4 to Scream 6 —and if another one gets released while I’m still writing I’ll probably incorporate it too— so buckle up SCREAM fans

Shattered Unity

[Fragment One: I] [Fragment One: II]

Synopsis: Jill Roberts had everything, a perfect house, with a perfect family and a perfect little sister, who she cared for far more than she realised.

Pairings: Jill Roberts x Sister! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: nothing so far :) some sibling fluff

34 Elm Street epitomized the pinnacle of luxury in Woodsboro, an affluent community coveted by all. The neighborhood itself exuded an aura of safety, lined with sycamores and white picket fences. In the middle of it all stood the Roberts household, bustling with the loud sounds of a typical Monday morning.

Jill rolled over in her plush bed, pulling her pillow over her ears to block out the loud noise of her alarm. Letting out a deep groan, her arms fumbled around until they found the snooze button. Her eyelids fluttered shut again, aiming to steal a few more precious moments of sleep until a sudden crash echoed from downstairs.

"Sweetheart!" Her mother's voice reverberated through the house. "Are you okay?"

Jill could hear her little sister mumbling something in response, probably attempting to make herself breakfast. She always had this habit of striving for independence. Jill stretched, her long black hair cascading as she released it from the loose bun of the night before. Running her fingers through the tangles, she slipped into a pair of jeans and rummaged through her wardrobe in search of a shirt. As Jill swung her door open, the sound of small feet scampering up the stairs reached her ears. It seemed her sister had an uncanny sixth sense for detecting when Jill was awake.

"Jill!" Her little form came barreling around the corner, running toward Jill's feet. Her face lit up when she saw her sister. "I made you pancakes," she announced proudly. Jill laughed and asked if that was what the crash was. The little one hid her face in Jill's shirt, her speech muffled by the fabric. "I might have dropped the pan." Jill ruffled her hair before manoeuvring around her  to start going downstairs.

The kitchen bore the aftermath of a culinary hurricane—flour dusted every available surface, eggshells added a crunch underfoot, and a symphony of pots and bowls occupied the sink. Amidst this chaos sat a plate of hastily assembled pancakes, syrup awaiting its inevitable deployment. As Jill cautiously surveyed the scene, her foot met an unexpected puddle of milk, sending a shiver up her spine as the sock soaked up the liquid.

Suppressing a sigh, Jill turned her attention to her sister, ready to issue a gentle reprimand. However, before she could speak, (Y/n) beat her to it with a spirited declaration. "Don't worry, Jill! I'm cleaning it all up after I eat. I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat before Kirby picks you up." Her bright smile melted any lingering frustration, reminding Jill why (Y/n) was her undeniable soft spot.

"You're such a little troublemaker, (Y/n)," Jill joked, pulling off her damp sock. She walked to the kitchen table, grabbing a few pancakes to smother in syrup. (Y/n) climbed onto the stool beside her big sister, looking at her intently. "Speaking of Kirby, do you think I can say hi when she comes to pick you up? I want to show her the picture I drew of us three!" Jill looked over, shocked at her sister, talking with a mouthful of pancake. "You drew a picture of me?" (Y/n) corrected her, saying it was all three of them together, but Jill's mind was elsewhere. All (Y/n) ever drew was puppies and rainbows—childish things. Never had Jill seen her draw a person, never mind her.

Jill's fork hovered mid-air, laden with syrup-soaked pancake, as she stared at (Y/n) with wide eyes. The surprise etched across her face deepened, a mix of disbelief and genuine awe. For a moment, she was caught in the realization that her little sister had moved beyond the realm of fluffy animals and sunny scenes, venturing into something far more personal.

"You drew a picture of me?" Jill repeated, as if the words needed confirmation. The syrup dripped slowly back onto the plate, forgotten in her slackened grip. (Y/n)'s innocent nod was met with an almost incredulous smile from Jill, as if the simple act of portraying her in a drawing was a revelation.

"(Y/n), that's... incredible," Jill finally managed, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and warmth. The thought that her sister had chosen to illustrate her, amid all the subjects she could have picked, lingered in the air like a sweet revelation.

"I'll show it to you!" (Y/n)'s syrup-sticky hands seized Jill's, leading her in an eager ascent up the stairs, their footsteps an echo of shared laughter. The little haven at the top, (Y/n)'s room, painted in every shade of pink. It was a sanctuary of innocence, adorned with unicorns, magical creatures, and the captured moments of their life.

The walls told stories in crayon and glitter drawings, tales of a childhood untainted by the complexities of the world beyond. Pictures of Jill and (Y/n), frozen in time, grinned back at them. Jill couldn't help but notice the subtle nostalgia woven into the room, a familiar echo of her own youth. The glow-in-the-dark stars overhead seemed to promise dreams as pure and boundless as the universe itself.

Most of the toys strewn across the floor were remnants of Jill's childhood, a nostalgic scatter of innocence now usurped by time. Yet, what tugged at Jill's heartstrings most was the teddy bear lying on the bed, a mirror image of the one resting in her own room. (Y/n) never ventured anywhere without that bear. It was a shared relic, a testament to a bond forged in the simplicity of happier times.

As Jill sank into memories, the room became a vessel of echoes. Most vivid was the recollection of a day long past, a shopping trip with her father to find the perfect gift for baby (Y/n). The brown bear, soft and fluffy, had captured Jill's heart. She pleaded with her father to let her have one too. That day marked the last fragment of happiness she could recall with him.

A small shake brought Jill back to the present. She found herself gently pushed to sit on the edge of the bed. (Y/n) darted to the desk by the door, the chaotic rustle of pages scattering in her wake. Amidst the flurry, a small sound of excitement at her discovery. (Y/n) rushed back, concealing a page behind her back, anticipation dancing in her eyes.

Jill was presented with a page, a kaleidoscope of waxy stripes in every imaginable color. Amidst the vibrant chaos, three figures took center stage. Two of them stood at a similar height, towering protectively over a smaller figure nestled between them. A soft smile graced Jill's lips as she looked at her younger sister, who returned the gaze with anticipation sparkling in her eyes.

Gently, Jill pulled (Y/n) into her arms, the paper the only barrier between then. She whispered softly in her sister's ear, "Kirby's going to love this."

Kirby's car rushed into the driveway of the Roberts household, letting out a loud beep that echoed in the quiet neighborhood. As Jill stepped onto the front porch, the car's blaring music masked the sounds around them.

"Before you get in the car, you need to promise not to kill me!" Kirby shouted over the music, quickly turning it off as Jill approached.

"Why?" Jill asked, walking closer to the passenger door, while her sister eagerly ran toward the car. "What did you do?"

"Trevor called me last night," Kirby explained, and Jill's face twisted in disgust. "Why is he calling you?" She leaned down, poking her head through the car window, while (Y/n) stood on her tiptoes to get Kirby's attention.

"Because you won't take his calls, he knows I have you here and he wants to know," Kirby said. Jill opened the door with a roll of her eyes, and Kirby shifted her focus to (Y/n), greeting her with a warm, "Hi pumpkin!"

Ignoring Kirby's attempt to divert the conversation, Jill pressed, "Know what?" Kirby's eyes darted away from (Y/n), who stood eagerly waiting to share something. "How upset you are." She finished.

Olivia hopped into the backseat of the car, engaging Jill in conversation about Trevor. While they chatted, Kirby shifted her attention to the younger Roberts sister, who stood patiently at the door. With an exuberant greeting, she handed Kirby a piece of paper, saying, "I drew this for you!" Kirby smiled at the young girl, touched by the fact that her best friend's younger sister cared enough to create a drawing. "It’s me, you, and Jill," she explained, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"It’s amazing, (Y/n)!" Kirby examined the drawing carefully before placing it on the dashboard. "When I get home from school, it’s going straight up on my refrigerator," she promised with a smile. (Y/n) beamed at this news. Kirby glanced at the time; if they didn’t leave now, they’d be late. “We have to go, pumpkin. Have a good day at school!” she called out as she watched (Y/n) run back into the house, waving back to the girls as she did and Jill shut the car door.

Olivia rolled her eyes from the back seat, letting out a scoff. She had something against Jill’s sister ever since she accidentally broke her cell two years ago. Olivia opened her mouth to state something when Jill quickly turned to face her, her stare cold and harsh, quickly shutting Olivia up. She huffed, “I wasn’t going to say anything about your sister!” Her arms raised in the air in defense.

Jill let a small smirk grace her lips; she could see Olivia was lying. “Really!” She turned back to the front, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. Jill wanted to see what kind of stupid story Olivia would attempt to create to dig herself out of the hole she made. “What was it you were going to say?”

Olivia stumbled over her words, desperately trying to come up with a story that would fit, but she couldn’t. “Fine!” She bowed her head in defeat. “But it’s not a crime to dislike your sister; she's just so...” She trailed off, seeing Jill's glare. “Clingy.”

The pulsating beat of a song jolted all three girls from their conversation. Jill's cellphone buzzed near her feet, prompting her to fish it out of her bag. As Olivia grumbled about the ringtone, Jill examined the caller ID.

"Why is Jenny Randall calling me?"

Both Kirby and Olivia shrugged, as Jenny wasn't someone they interacted with frequently.

"I don't know. I don't like Jenny Randall. She threw up on me at Tony Marshall's luau," Olivia interjected. Kirby rolled her eyes, and as Jill answered the phone, "That luau was freshman year!" Kirby turned to Olivia, who threw up her hands, “I didn't say my anger was rational!"

Both girls redirected their attention to Jill upon hearing her asking about the caller. Kirby returned her focus to the road, stealing glances at Jill's now irritated expression. "What does she want?" Jill ignored her friend's question, continuing to reprimand the mysterious caller. "Where’s Jenny?" Confusion deepened on the faces of Kirby and Olivia. Was Jenny Randall attempting to prank call Jill? Jill lowered the volume of the car's music. "Who is this?"

Kirby listened intently to the voice on the other end. It resonated deep and rough, like gravel on the highway. Certainly not Jenny Randall. Panic crept over Jill's face as she abruptly declared, “I’m hanging up.”

After a brief pause, Jill turned to her friends. "That was so weird. I just got a prank call from Jenny Randall." Olivia promptly interrupted with her own story, but Jill remained silent, appearing uninterested. "Jenny Randall is weird. Her and her little Marnie the Carny friend are freaks!" Glancing at Jill, who sat somewhat diminished in her seat and gazing out the window, Kirby sensed Jill might be anxious about her sister after such a peculiar call. Olivia continued to ramble on, it was very clearly not helping Jill. Kirby sighed before trying to reassure Jill.

"It's massacre week. People go looney, remember?"

Do you think you'll do a part 2 of the Jill Roberts x sister reader?

I definitely will, (eventually) I’ve just had so much on my plate recently, I’ve just started my own business and I’m still in college and i have musical rehearsals and ugh I’m stressed but the series is something I’ve been thinking about for years so I definitely will :)

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Hi! Could you please write a Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher one-shot with a mix of fluff and angst? I'd love a story where the reader has been friends with Billy and Stu since childhood and has always been the glue holding them together. Despite the chaos of high school and the mounting tension in Woodsboro, the reader has managed to keep a sense of normalcy and happiness in their trio.

However, the reader starts noticing disturbing changes in Billy and Stu's behavior—late-night disappearances, strange conversations, and an unsettling intensity in their eyes. The reader confronts them, leading to a heated argument where dark secrets are revealed. In the aftermath, the reader is torn between the fear of their actions and the deep bond they share.

The angst peaks when the reader decides to distance themselves, hoping to find clarity and safety. But Billy and Stu, realizing how much they need the reader, come up with a plan to win back their trust and prove their loyalty.

I'd love to see a blend of intense, emotional scenes with moments of tenderness and vulnerability. How does the reader navigate their fear and love for Billy and Stu? And how do Billy and Stu cope with the possibility of losing the one person who truly understands them?

Thank you so much!

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Of course i can write this for you anon, i love writing ansgty stuff, i live for it, i hope it is up to standard!

Title: Haunted Hearts and Healing Shadows

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The old, creaking playground echoed with laughter that had long since faded, now replaced by the whispers of autumn leaves. You, Billy, and Stu had grown up here, your friendship forged in the crucible of scraped knees and shared secrets. This playground, once a sanctuary of childhood innocence, now stood as a silent witness to the tangled web of your lives. From carefree days to the tumultuous years of high school, you had been the glue holding your trio together. But lately, the edges of that bond had started to fray, and an unsettling darkness loomed over your once inseparable friendship.

High school in Woodsboro had its own set of challenges, but you had always found solace in the company of Billy and Stu. Your dynamic had always been unique—Billy with his brooding intensity, Stu with his wild charisma, and you, the calming presence that balanced their extremes. Together, you managed to create a bubble of normalcy amidst the chaos of adolescence. However, as senior year progressed, the changes in Billy and Stu became harder to ignore.

Billy's eyes, once filled with a deep, contemplative warmth, now held a flicker of something darker, something you couldn't quite place. Stu, ever the life of the party, had begun to wear his manic energy like a mask, his laughter sounding more forced, more desperate. They started disappearing at odd hours, their conversations becoming hushed and secretive. You told yourself it was just the stress of impending adulthood, but the pit in your stomach suggested otherwise.

One night, after a particularly tense evening at Stu's house, you couldn't take it anymore. The air crackled with unspoken words as you confronted them in the dimly lit basement. "What's going on with you two?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "I can't keep pretending everything is fine when it's not."

Billy and Stu exchanged a glance, a silent communication that only deepened your unease. "You wouldn't understand," Billy finally said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Try me," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

The floodgates opened. Dark secrets spilled forth—tales of manipulation, of violence, of a thrill that transcended the normal teenage rebellion. Billy's voice was cold, detached as he spoke of their actions, while Stu's eyes flickered with a twisted excitement. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down as the weight of their revelations crushed you.

"You did this?" you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "How could you—how could you involve me in this?"

Billy stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "We did it for us, to protect what we have. Can't you see that?"

The words hung heavy in the air, a cruel irony. They had done this for you, for the bond you shared, yet it was that very bond that now felt tainted, corrupted by their actions. You stumbled out of the basement, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You needed distance, space to process the horrors they had confessed.

The days that followed were a blur. You distanced yourself, seeking refuge in the familiar yet now alien corners of Woodsboro. You grappled with your feelings, torn between the love you had for Billy and Stu and the fear of what they had become. Nights were the hardest, the shadows in your room a stark reminder of the darkness lurking in your friends.

Billy and Stu, for their part, struggled in your absence. Billy's stoic exterior cracked, revealing a vulnerability you had rarely seen. Stu, usually so effervescent, became subdued, his manic energy replaced with a hollow emptiness. They realized, perhaps too late, just how much you meant to them—how integral you were to their very existence.

Desperate to win back your trust, they devised a plan. It wasn't grand or elaborate, but it was heartfelt. They showed up at your house one evening, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear. "We need to talk," Billy said softly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

You let them in, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. They apologized—not just for their actions, but for the pain they had caused you. They spoke of their need for you, how you were the light that kept their darkness at bay. Billy's hand trembled as he reached for yours, while Stu's eyes, filled with a rare sincerity, mirrored your own turmoil.

Tears flowed freely as you listened, your heart aching with the weight of their confessions. You could see their vulnerability, the cracks in their carefully constructed facades. They weren't asking for forgiveness, not entirely; they were asking for a chance to make things right.

In that moment, you realized that despite everything, you still cared deeply for them. The bond you shared, though damaged, was not beyond repair. You agreed to give them another chance, but with conditions—honesty, transparency, and the understanding that they needed to seek help.

The path to healing was not easy. There were nights filled with nightmares and days of strained silence. But there were also moments of tenderness, of genuine connection that reminded you of why you had loved them in the first place. You saw glimpses of the boys you had grown up with, buried beneath the layers of pain and darkness.

The resolution was not a fairytale ending, but it was realistic. You forgave, but you didn't forget. Trust was rebuilt slowly, brick by brick, as you navigated the complexities of your relationship. And while the shadows of Woodsboro still loomed large, you found solace in the small moments of light—those fleeting instances of happiness that reminded you of the strength of your bond.

In the end, your discovery was a testament to the resilience of love and friendship. It was a demonstration of navigating the fine line between fear and forgiveness, of finding hope in the darkest of places. And as you stood between Billy and Stu, their hands in yours, you knew that while the road ahead was uncertain, you would face it together, bound by the shared shadows of your past and the healing light of your future.

Leave a note if you'd like, it doesnt really matter how, if not thats fine too!😊