Tumgik
chris-moone · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I never got to dive very deep into this AU so here's some more info on it! In this AU, Clover met Jack the same way they did in the canon story only in this one Jack's ghost fades away one day and Clover goes out searching for him, only to find out Jack's real actor never died. But during the filming of the Sunny Time Crew show Jacktor was in a severe accident on set that nearly cost him his life, and so the show was discontinued due to the scandal. Jacktor never acted again after that, but he did manage to live a fulfilling life, thus leading him to this moment. He's not allowed to talk about what happened during the '84 incident (for legal purposes) but he doesn't mind talking about his experiences on the show and is always delighted whenever somebody remembers his role as Sunny Day Jack. After finding "Jack", Clover decided to come see him everyday. They've mostly accepted that the person they loved and knew possibly never existed (Jack being a character) but they still make an effort to visit. Jacktor has no memory of who Clover is, but a part of him finds them familiar. And so starts the mystery of who Jack really was and if his ghost was ever even real.....?
464 notes · View notes
chris-moone · 6 days
Note
Can I hug dif Jack? And gimme him a kiss on the cheeek?:3 plsss
Tumblr media
He'd love some lovin'! Thanks for asking ahead of time! :3
816 notes · View notes
chris-moone · 1 month
Text
Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.
328K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
despite everything, it’s still you—?
13K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 2 months
Text
WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS
What’s the lie your character says most often?
How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?
How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?
What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?
Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?
What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?
What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?
How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?
Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?
What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?
If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?
What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!
When do they fake a smile? How often?
How do they put out a candle?
What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?
What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?
What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?
Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?
What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?
Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?
What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?
What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?
What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?
Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?
What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?
How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?
What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?
What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?
How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?
When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?
When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?
If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?
How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?
How do they greet someone they like / love?
What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?
Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?
What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?
What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?
Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?
How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?
What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?
If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?
What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?
What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?
What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?
Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?
Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?
Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?
Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?
What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?
What’s a phrase they say a lot?
Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?
Who would / do they believe without question?
What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?
What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?
If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?
What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?
How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?
52K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Somehow a dinosaur egg got in with the chicken eggs. . . Leaving the local chicken man and the local farmer very confused.
Back on that Stardew Valley grind 💪
635 notes · View notes
chris-moone · 2 months
Text
Thank You!
Tumblr media
This update has been our largest by far- I am so grateful for everyone that made this next installment possible. The artwork, animation, props, puppets, designs, music, voice acting, editing, website construction, motivational speech giving, and more was done by so many skilled, hardworking and caring individuals- I hope you really enjoy the efforts of everyone involved, it could have not been possible without their efforts, or yours for supporting us. As always, I have to reiterate and shout the names of everyone involved to credit them properly! You will know them!
www.welcomehomerestorationproject.net/from-me-to-you
We'll share more behind the scenes items once this week is up! Hopefully on our Ko-fi too! I'd hate to spoil anyone so we are going to be patient! There is something else too... So I'll see you then!
8K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 7 months
Note
Ok, are we just all going to ignore the fact that there's huge fucking potential for a tinker bell and petted pan duo costume for the borrower Au? Or am I going insane?
You’re not the only one going insane
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
I enjoyed watching Arrietty as a kid, so I created a Borrower AU, with a human being transferred to the neighborhood, with noticeable difference in their appearance, is that they’re small..
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Spiders were harmed in the making of this drawing, its hella dead 💀)
Y/n being a little fella aka a borrower living Wally’s house
When Y/N first arrived in Wally’s house..they have to get accustomed to being at such a small size.
They are surviving off of apples, cause looks like that’s what Wally only eats...but they are the occasional baked goods he brings (the baked goods being from mama Poppy Partridge), who Y/N would be grateful to, if they find out who’s responsible for making these delicious baked goods.
While Y/N is living in Wally’s house...living without knowledge of the home being sentient....
Home telling Wally there’s a guest with him, a small guest..
Being caught for the first time was fucking scary for Y/N...
Being held captive in a plushie soft grasp, belonging to a pompadour puppet who can’t seem to stop staring...
Wally being the curious gentleman that he is, asked many and many questions for their small guest, staring at there small form intensely...Y/N answered, not wanting to be harmed and wanting to leave immediately..
And after that he sets them free to hide in their small base, for the meantime..
But absolutely not letting Y/N leave home, it gets lonely...and he’s starting to take an interest in them..but sooner or later he’ll let Y/n explore the outside world, but his main priority is to show Y/n he means no harm.
Wally tries to befriend them, either talking to the walls where they reside, day or night, being unaware of the concept of sleeping, thinking that humans don’t need sleep, leading up to sleepless nights for poor Y/N..
or whenever Y/N goes out for essentials, which Wally gladly gives to them, as peace offerings, in fact most of Y/N’s small furniture were handcrafted by Wally,
Y/N will accept the important offerings, but their suspicions of Wally still reside, those eyes give them the creeps..
Wally always finds Y/N trying to be vigilant amusing, though he leaves them be, not wanting to strain Y/N’s trust even more.
Though he loves himself some games such as Cat and Mouse, always catching Y/n off guard with his childish antics, not really noticing the amount of distress Y/n is under in, but always let’s them go.
Ending things peacefully by letting them go, while Wally couldn’t wait for the next round of Cat and Mouse.
Y/N is aggressive towards Wally, trying to bite Wally’s fingers off, it’s a defense mechanism, with Y/N’s fear of Wally, it makes them distant.
But that doesn’t stop Wally from trying to his fullest to be at peace with Y/N.
Though they get increasingly annoyed with Wally’s childish games, scarring them to death like that.
Wally just absolutely adores small things, Y/N now being his favorite small thing. Making him increasingly overprotective of them..
_______________________
This is a first, writing an extensive backstory for these drawings, but I hope you guys like it. Y/N being a little fella with a lot of pent up aggressiveness towards Wally. There will be more to this AU if more ideas pop up in my head, ya’ll can join too, giving me ideas so I can draw it. Also other characters from WH can be included too!
5K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
➳ wally's biggest crush (wally darling x gn!puppet!reader omeshot)
synopsis: even though he's married, his crush on his spouse still retains as he went through a memory lane of how he first met the love of his life
cw: none, just some fluff
a/n: new hyperfixation goes woopp (also inspired from a reddit post) and also, i've added a last name on reader's name to make it more sense
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He couldn't just get enough of you. As he continuously sat down on the comfortable armchair that he seems to be fond of while watching you in home's kitchen, making something that smelled absolutely delicious. Maybe it's cookies? Or perhaps a mouth watering baked pie that most of his neighbors loved? He just didn't know on what you are making. Afterall, he is the kind of guy who loved surprises from the love of his life;
(y/n) Darling, or Mx. Darling is what the neighbors called them.
Their generosity and patience towards others is exactly why Wally not only made him curious about you but also didn't expect are the main reasons why he fell hard for you and it all started when he first saw you moving into the neighborhood and greeted the other neighbors with enthusiasm and respect, even offering some of your baked goods as a token of friendship. Wally watched you with curiosity as you loved from different shops to houses until you reached his house. In response, home released a variety of sounds, indicating that it welcomes you into its walls.
The poor puppet's seemed to be a bit shy upon meeting the new neighbor, especially someone as beautiful/handsome as you. 'You can do this, Wally.' he thought to himself, fixing his hair and dusting off his attire. 'Just say hi and welcome them in this neighborhood. Yeah, that should be easy, you can do thi–' When he opens the door, Wally becomes paralyzed and stood as still as possible when his eyes met yours. He could describe you as someone who's soft, welcoming and sweet as sugar. He doesn't even lie that your aura alone makes him warm on the inside.
"Hello there, I'm-"
His mind went blank, doesn't know what to do next and instead, he slammed the door in front of your face.
The way you didn't get mad nor acted cold at him when he first slammed the door in front of your face. You just stood there in confusion, still a tray of cupcakes on your hand as you knocked once again on his door and heard Home's squeaking in retribution and disappointment towards Wally.
squeak!!
squeak!!
bang!
"Ow!!" Wally reacted from the fallen book, hitting his head. "You don't have to do this Home. I have already embarrassed myself in front of them." Onomatopoeic sounds can be heard from the building, threatening the homeowner that it will take drastic measures to get him out from its walls. "Fine fine, you don't have to be harsh, sheesh Home." Finally, Wally got out from his house.
"Um, I am so sorry for the commotion happened here..." He spoke as his eyes glued on the trees above and stared back at your (e/c) eyes. "And about the slamming that door on your face...." In response, you chuckled and gave him a warm smile. "It's fine, don't worry about that. I understand that it was unexpected of you to meet someone new who just moved in this neighborhood today." You replied and silence looms around as Wally continuously stares at you.
"Oh! I wanna give you these cupcakes. They're newly backed and I hope you liked it."
"Thank you new neighbor, that's kinda sweet of you to bake these. I'm Wally by the way, Wally Darling." A smile appeared on his face, taking the cupcakes off your hands. "I'm (y/n) von Sweets!" Grabbing his hand and shaking it, Wally couldn't resist the heat creeping up into his cheeks. Your hands are so soft and warm, just like a newly baked bread from the bakery. "I better head back from my shop that's recently opened, I'll see you around then, Wally." You spoke, waving him good bye as you went your merry way towards the yellow brick road of the neighborhood.
Still standing as still as possible, Wally didn't move from his spot. He just continuously stares at you, up until you disappeared from his point of view and still wondering when he will meet you again. Maybe tomorrow perhaps he will visit you in your bakery while bringing a bouquet of flowers as a token of his friendly gesture to you.
Wally closed the door, now staring at the colorful tray of cupcakes in his hands. "Gosh, ain't they the sweetest, Home?" It squeaked in return. "Such a lovely neighbor, maybe I'll visit them tomorrow." He sighs dreamily, taking a bite of the cupcake and couldn't get enough of the tarty and fruity taste of your baked good.
. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .
"Watcha thinking there, sweetheart?" His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice. The smell of his favorite baked pastry begin of consume Home's 4 corners of its walls. "Just the time where I first met you, my darling. I just think to myself; how am I this lucky to be your husband. Me, an ordinary painter?" You giggled, giving him a plate of a sliced apple pie on his hands. "Even after you married me, you still have the biggest crush on me. When will that go away?" You teasingly asked. Wally placed his plate on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap.
You see how his pupils has changed into little hearts. "Never, my love. I am contented of being in love and having a crush on you." You continuously kissed his face, from his eyes to cheeks and finally his favorite part, his lips. The both of you let out a big 'mwah' while kissing each other. The painter felt himself being more and more deeply in love with you as you gave him more of your attention and love.
"I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being the man of my dreams." You sighed lovingly, now placing your head on his neck. Your husband just looks at you with adoration as he places a kiss on your forehead. "I love you too, my darling. My dearest, dearest darling."
Tumblr media
Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.
Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
3K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Based on the time Clown answered someone’s question of what Wally’s favourite sound was and said it was us. 🦦 plz standby as I cry at how cute that is-
Also gif credit: @cinderbutt
Wally love, love, loves the sound of your voice.
Even if he so happened to not be in the same room as you at the time, as long as he could hear your voice, everything was a-okay.
It’s a sound of soothing reassurance for the little guy, something that reminds him of your permanence in his life and he couldn’t be more grateful.
I genuinely don’t think he cares about how your voice sounds because at the end of the day, it’s your voice! It’s unique, amazing, and so special to Wally because it helps him identify you.
If Wally was allowed a moment to be honest, he’d admits to believing that he wouldn’t be able to find a better sound to favour above all else then your voice.
If there was an instance where you were brought up to be ashamed of your voice, going so far as to not speak as much of you could help it, but when Wally catches wind of this he’d be like;
‘Insecure of your voice? But why? It’s my favourite sound to hear in the morning as it’s rough with the lack of use, or even as your reading a book aloud to yourself and how it would instinctively become higher or lower octave depending on how your were reacting towards what was happening in the story; whether it be happy or sad.’
‘Even when you felt impassioned about something you truly cared about or just recently found interest in, your voice becomes more powerful and full of life that it becomes infectious and awe inspiring. It’s a truly unique voice to you and despite how you think about it, I would rather hear you speak about your hobbies, about your day, about anything and everything because your voice truly is one of a kind and I wouldn’t wish it to sound any differently because to me, it’s perfect as it is.’
Wally’s dead serious when he says all this, so don’t be mistaken because this three foot puppet truly does adore your voice to an almost unhealthy amount.
He’s hooked onto your every word as though it’s gospel even if your talking about a time where you were getting the mail.
Wally. Is. Hooked. He wants to hear the story to it’s end.
The little guy pouts when you’re interrupted but encourages you to start from the beginning should you forget where you left off. Just gives him an excuse to listen to your voice for even longer.
I’d like to think he’s a little gossiping shit and would be down to hearing the most recent gossip with you, should you have the full context on the situation. Wally’s already sat on your lap ready and waiting.
You: The FitnessGram Pacer test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it-
Wally: 🥰😍
2K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⭐THROWS BEE&PUPPYCAT!AU AT YOU ⭐
958 notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Note
What would Wally do if Y/N left him for 24 hours. And what would Y/N return to seeing?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They’re clingy /pos 🥺
3K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
First times… 🫶🥺
This one is dedicated to @dianacoreexe ! Thank you for the KoFi ^^
3K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I cant stop drawing him pls send help
2K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IIIII WANT TO DRAW HIM MORE, it feels like it's not enouuuugghhhh for meee rrgghh..😬😬😬
Wally Darling always makes me feel sooo much better
5K notes · View notes
chris-moone · 10 months
Text
Unfinished Business: a Welcome Home Corpse Puppet AU fanfiction
A/N: Just here to let you know that I'm not creative. Like, at all. This is a fanfic of a fanfic inspired by a fan-made AU of a completely unrelated work, but I couldn't get it out of my head so maybe now my brain will be at peace so I can work on my original story (or it will come up with fifty other fanfic ideas because that's more fun than editing).
Anyway, Welcome Home belongs to Clown/partycoffin, the Corpse Puppet AU belongs to @sketchquill, and the fanfic this is based on is a Corpse Bride/Nightmare Before Christmas crossover fic called The Undead Groom by moviefan_92 on Ao3.
Spoiler Alert for all of that media, plus a little for the novel The Pumpkin Queen just because there's a reference here and there, but not too much.
Also C/W: There's a lot of major character death in here.
I may add more to it later if inspiration strikes. Let me know in the comments if you are interested in that.
Okay, I'll shut up, now. Here's the fic.
The carriage jostled down the muddy dirt road. You wrung the handkerchief in your hands as you gazed out the window at the grey sky, occasionally distracted by the raindrops trailing down the glass. Try as you might, you just couldn't cry. You wanted to, but no tears would come.
At least the dreary weather was appropriate for a funeral.
Howdy was watching you. He wasn't one to judge his spouse's appearance, but he did decide that funeral black did not suit you particularly well. Not when he'd seen you in so many other bright, cheerful colors, when you had been happy. When you were like this—mourning—the sparkle in your eyes was gone. He thought you were beautiful when you were happy, somehow still hauntingly so when you were sad, but he would be lying if he said he didn't prefer seeing you smile or laugh.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “I know you and Eddie were close.”
You sighed. “I'll be fine. This isn't my first time dealing with grief.”
Yes, Howdy knew that all too well. The first several days of your marriage had been more awkward than they probably should have been for... obvious reasons. Any time he caught you staring despondently out the window, he knew deep down that you were thinking of Wally.
That didn't have a negative impact on your marriage, though. You were strong and optimistic, and Howdy shared many happy memories with you. You taught him how to play piano, and he in turn taught you how to garden. You even started a small orchard together. Howdy couldn't think of many more signs of a happy home than the smell of apple blossoms in the garden and hallways filled with the sounds of music and laughter. You were comfortable, and your fortunes were secure, (that was the most important thing to both of your parents, and neither of you could ask for much more than your parents' satisfaction).
Most of all, you and Howdy loved each other. Howdy had accepted long ago that yours was a love built off of friendship and mutual respect rather than romance, but it was enough for him, (considering what he grew up witnessing from his parents, he counted that as the greatest success of them all). You recently celebrated your copper anniversary, which baffled Howdy. How could seven years fly by so quickly? Thinking back on everything, he knew that he was completely satisfied with where his life was, as long as you were by his side and happy.
Which is why he hated to see you so sad. He wouldn't rush you through your grief, but he could at least help lighten the load. “Would you like to talk about it?” he asked.
You looked down at the handkerchief in your hands, wadded up beyond recognition, but still as dry as it was when Howdy handed it to you. You smoothed it out over your lap and stared at Howdy's initials embroidered in green in the corner.
Howdy watched you, patient. A deep rumble of thunder rolled through the sky outside.
“I just... hate how somber it was,” you said.
“Funerals typically are.”
“I know, but Eddie wouldn't have wanted that. He was so much more cheerful and... and colorful than that. He'd want people telling funny stories about him and celebrating his life, not... just standing in silence while the dirt is thrown over his casket.” Your shoulders stiffened. “I should have said something.” Now you could feel the tears building up, but they simply would not come. I should be crying. Why am I not crying?
Howdy leaned forward and took your hand, and you finally looked into his eyes. He was smiling. “He's in a better place, now.”
You smiled at that. Seven years ago, those words would have felt like a hollow attempt at consolation, but now they were a real comfort. Howdy was there when the dead came up to the Land of the Living. He witnessed Eddie and Frank briefly reunite. Now they would never be separated again, and he knew it as well as you did.
Perhaps that was why you couldn't cry: you knew that good things were waiting for Eddie on the other side.
The tears finally spilled over and rolled down your cheeks, but they were not tears of sorrow. You were happy.
Howdy used two of his free hands to cup your face. His smile was soft and understanding as he thumbed away your tears. You stood and shifted over to the seat across from you so you could sit beside him, and his four arms wrapped you up into a tight hug. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, like he had so many times before. “Everything will be alright,” he whispered.
“I know,” you mumbled into his shoulder.
Lightning flashed outside, followed by a loud clap of thunder. You gripped at Howdy's coat as he leaned forward to look out the window. “That storm is getting much worse.”
“Should we stop somewhere?” you asked.
He nodded. “Most likely.” He reached up to knock on the ceiling of the coach. “Johnson? How are the roads looking?” he called.
Johnson, the driver, shouted something back to Howdy, but his voice was drowned out by a deafening crash. A blinding white light flooded the carriage and the horses whinnied outside in terror. You tried to lean forward to look out the window, but the horses bolted and the momentum sent you crashing to the floor of the coach. You could hear Johnson yelling. Howdy grabbed your arm and tried to haul you back into the seat, but when you looked out the window, what you saw made you freeze.
Lightning had struck a nearby tree. It was on fire. Johnson seemed to have lost the reins, because you could see them flapping in the wind by the window. Howdy was calling your name. Johnson was screaming at the horses to stop.
The carriage was passing the flaming tree right as it started to crackle and groan.
You jumped back into the seat and grabbed Howdy. One of his hands grasped the back of your head and his body tensed around you as if he was bracing himself.
It only took a few seconds—three at most—but it felt like an eternity.
Wood splintered around you as the carriage shattered. A heavy weight came down on you and Howdy, and for a brief, macabre moment, you were amazed by how fragile your bodies really were.
Then everything went black.
There was nothing but darkness for a long time. You tried to move, tried to call out for Howdy, but nothing happened. You were just... nothing.
That thought scared you. There was so much more than that. Light. Color. Noises and smells. Life. You couldn't be nothing, that just wasn't possible. You had memories and goals. You had a spouse and a family. You had an estate to attend to you. You couldn't just... not be.
Panic twisted your stomach into knots, clawed its way up your throat, and came out of your mouth as a scream: “Help! Help me!”
“Alright, alright! Calm down!”
You stopped. That voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who it was.
Then you heard another, timid voice. “Is it always like this?”
That one you did recognize, because you had just heard it a few days ago. It was Eddie. Your instinct was to gasp, but you couldn't. I can't breathe. Oh, God, I can't breathe.
The first voice spoke again: “Often, yes. It all depends on the person and how at peace they are.”
There was a shuffling nearby. It was odd, despite the panic coursing through you, your body was strangely... calm. You expected your heart to be thumping fast and heavy in your ears and for your palms to be sweaty, but there was nothing.
The space above you shifted with a low creak and light stabbed your eyes. You flinched, blinked, then stared at the two faces above you blurring into focus.
Eddie and Frank were leaned over, looking down at you. They both offered you sad, soft smiles.
Your neck was stiff as you looked around. Your were laying in some sort of bed. It wasn't comfortable; even though it was all silk, there was no cushion, and the pillow at your head was much too small. Your mind was sluggish like you had just woken from a long nap. You had to blink several times and crane your neck to the left before you realized that Frank was holding open a lid.
You were in a casket.
Your tongue felt like cement in your mouth as you stammered, “Am... am I d-dead?”
Eddie gave you a pitying look. “Oh, Y/N.”
“Come on,” Frank said, “the sooner you get on your feet, the better you'll feel.” He and Eddie grabbed you under your arms and hoisted you out of the casket, which was sitting on a table. They helped you find your footing and Frank instructed you through some stretches to shake off the rigor mortis. You took a moment to look around.
You were in a sort of cavern, full of other caskets sitting on tables. Some looked new, others old and decayed.
“Where are we?” you asked.
“The Land of the Dead. Specifically, an offshoot of our village, just below the graveyard where you were buried,” Frank said.
You felt dizzy. “So... the crash... I didn't make it.”
Eddie put his hand on your shoulder. “No one made it except the driver. When the tree fell, he got thrown off, but he survived. Poor man blames himself for what happened. Thinks he should have kept better hold of the reins or suggested you leave sooner to avoid the storm.” He squeezed your shoulder. “They say you and Howdy died in each other's arms.”
“Howdy...” Your stomach was churning and you wondered if you could still get sick even if you were dead.
Eddie nodded. “Frank had to break a couple of rules, but we went to the Land of the Living to see your funeral—”
“From a safe distance, of course,” Frank interrupted.
“Of course. Your parents spared no expense. They got you a big, beautiful gravestone and there were flowers everywhere. You and Howdy were buried next to each other in the outfits you got married in.”
You glanced down at yourself for the first time and realized he was right, you were wearing the outfit your mother had picked out for your wedding, complete with your wedding band on your left hand.
Not only that, but you were also wearing the other wedding band on your right hand. Wally's wedding band. It was the same ring Wally had worn all those years ago, after you had practiced your vows in the woods. You ended up keeping it for myself since Howdy's mother insisted that you purchase new rings for your next attempt at getting married, (”I'll have no cursed rings at this ceremony,” she said). You could never bring yourself to get rid of it, though, and eventually fell into the habit of wearing it on your right hand while you wore your actual wedding ring on your left.
You were surprised that you had been buried with it, considering everything. Perhaps your family decided that since you wore it all the time, it held sentimental value to you and you'd want to keep it. Or, you shuddered to consider this, your hands were too swollen to get it off.
You shook those thoughts away and looked back to Eddie. “Where is Howdy?” you asked. “If he was buried next to me, shouldn't he be here?”
Frank and Eddie exchanged a glance. “We aren't sure where he is,” Eddie said.
“We've been keeping an eye out for him, but we think he's gone to the upstairs,” Frank added.
“The upstairs?”
“Heaven, Paradise, Nirvana, whatever you call it. You can go to whatever version of the afterlife you choose once you pass on. Unless you're someone like Julie.” They frowned. “Someone like that who has caused suffering for others doesn't get a choice. She's downstairs.”
“So, if there's an upstairs and a downstairs, where are we? The ground floor?”
Frank's mouth twitched into a smile. “Something like that. The people who end up here usually either can't make up their mind where they want to go or have unfinished business. You could join Howdy upstairs, if you wanted.”
You considered this, but the idea made your head spin. Where exactly did Howdy go, and how would you go about joining him?
Frank nodded to a nearby hallway. “We can talk more about this, later. Come on, the others are waiting to see you.”
The others. You perked up a bit remembering them. Sally, Poppy, Barnaby, even your old dog, Scraps. You followed Frank out of the cavern, and Eddie fell into step beside you, whistling a cheery tune as you walked.
The bells were already ringing by the time you reached the village, and as you got closer to the old tavern you could hear a chorus of voices all calling out, “New arrival! New arrival!”
Eddie chuckled beside you. “Poppy is up to her ears in cooking. They just had a Welcome Feast for me the other day.”
You tried to swallow, but your mouth was too dry. God, Eddie's, funeral was just the other day, and now here you were. You weren't sure if you could take part in any kind of feast; your mind was still reeling from everything that had happened.
You entered the tavern and were immediately greeted by Sally, the tragic Shakespearean actor, who gripped your hand and was roughly shaking it as soon as you stepped through the door. “Well, it's about time you showed up!” she said.
“Easy, Sally. Y/N is still adjusting,” Frank said as they came in beside you.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sally said as she tugged you across the room and sat you down at a bar. “So how'd it happen?”
You cleared your throat. “Um. A carriage accident.”
She whistled. “Wow, that's a rough way to go. Do you remember any of it?”
“Not really. I got knocked out pretty quickly.”
There was a loud thud beside you as a familiar, tall blue dog plopped down in the seat on your other side. “Welp, that's good at least,” Barnaby said as he handed you a frothing mug of beer.
“Sure is. Not remembering violent deaths makes the transition a little easier.”
Barnaby leaned over, his eyeball rolling into his right socket, and peered at you. “And judging by all the schmutz on your face, I'm guessing it wasn't a pretty sight.”
“Schmutz?” You gently touched your face and realized that you had a very thick layer of makeup on.
“Oh yeah! We need to get that off you right away. It looks awful.” Sally stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Poppyyyyyy! I need a mirrooooooooor!”
“One moment, please!” a high-pitched, crow-like voice squawked from the kitchen. “Goodness me, I'm going to start molting again from all these feasts.” Poppy walked into the space behind the bar, wiping her wings on her apron, and she looked up at you. “Oh, my dear Y/N. I heard the rumors, but I didn't know if they were true. I'm so sorry.”
You couldn't help but smile at Poppy, remembering the way she comforted you when you first came here and were scared out of your wits. “I'm fine. It's good to see you again.”
She smiled back at you before digging through her apron pocket. “Let's see, I think I have a mirror in here, somewhere. Ah!” She withdrew a tiny hand mirror and handed it to you. “Please don't be insulted, but whoever did your funeral makeup certainly did you a disservice.”
You looked into the mirror and blanched when you realized that they were right. The makeup didn't match your skin tone and made you look horribly discolored, and they seemed to try and make up for that by applying huge splotches of rouge to your cheeks and lips. You grimaced at your reflection.
“Uh huh. Here,” Sally said while handing you a rag.
You went to work cleaning up your face and neck, scrubbing the makeup away. You froze when you glanced at your reflection again and noticed just how much you had changed. Your skin had taken on a bluish tint, and you had massive stitches across your neck and down your right temple. You gently prodded at your temple and flinched when a fraction of your skull shifted under your touch. No, the accident wasn't pretty at all.
Sally noticed this and took the rag and mirror from you. “Here, I'll finish,” she said.
“You'll get used to it,” Barnaby said as Sally got to work. “Imagine how Poppy was when she first got here and saw that half of her face was missing.”
Sally finished and nodded with satisfaction. “There. Now you look like one of us!”
“The stitches are a nice touch, too. Makes you look like a pirate,” Barnaby said.
Sally gasped. “Oooo. We could do a production of The Pirates of Penzance! Are you a good singer?”
“Me? Well, uh—”
Barnaby laughed then stood up. “Care if I go ahead and audition?” He started singing “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” before anyone could protest, going out of his way to use a silly voice and make larger-than-life funny gestures.
Eddie took Barnaby's seat beside you and helped himself to the drink that Poppy put down in front of him. “So, what do you think you're going to do now?”
You pondered this for a moment. “I'm not sure. What can I do?”
“Whatever you want, really. You could move on to another afterlife upstairs, or you could stay here. Take care of whatever unfinished business you have.”
You shrugged. “I guess that's why I'm here, huh? I just can't make up my mind?”
Poppy leaned against the bar and giggled. “Oh, no. I think you do have unfinished business.”
You tilted your head. “What?”
Sally's attention was brought back to you and she propped her elbows on the bar, giving you a sly smile. “Oh, yeah. And I bet we all know what it is.”
“I'm confused,” you said.
“Oh, come on. Do we really need to spell it out for you?” she said with a groan. “How about the guy you almost drank poison for?”
Your eyes widened. “Wally?”
Sally and Poppy both nodded. Barnaby gave up on his performance when he realized no one was watching him juggle three empty beer mugs and approached you again. “Sounds about right,” he said.
“But that's not possible. Wally, he... he's gone. I saw him disappear.”
Frank approached you from behind and placed their hand on your shoulder. “He's not gone. Souls don't just disappear like that.”
“Yeah, and he visited us a couple of weeks ago,” Barnaby added.
You felt something deep within you—your heart, maybe? even though it wasn't beating anymore?—jump up at the revelation. “Where is he? Upstairs?”
“Nah, I think Poppy would have let us know if he was living in the attic.” Barnaby laughed when Frank gave him a sharp glare.
“Not precisely. Last I heard, he's residing in another in-between kind of place. It's a little bit harder to get there since it's separate from our world, but he's figured it out well enough that he still visits us from time to time,” Frank said.
Your throat clenched like a fist and your eyes were stinging. You pressed your hands against your mouth and sniffled.
Poppy grinned. “I knew it.”
“Please. We all knew it,” Sally said.
“How do I find him?” you said.
Frank put a hand to his chin. “Well, he told me that there are a couple of ways to get there, but for most of them you have to know what you're looking for. I haven't been able to go there, myself, so I won't be very much help, there.” They tapped his jaw and hummed a bit in thought. “I suppose I could give you the spell I gave Wally before. It's a bit of a gamble, but I'm sure it won't be much of a problem for you. It's a spell to help you find your heart's desire. I gave it to him when he first got here in case he ever changed his mind about that unfinished business of his, and he kept it with him for years. Didn't use it until that day in the Land of the Living.”
You remembered that moment vividly, when you watched as Wally's body dissolved into hundreds of blue and grey butterflies. “That was a spell? I thought he was gone.”
Frank shook his head. “I think once he decided that he was satisfied, he needed something to help him move on. He's happy where he is now, if not a little lonely.”
You hugged yourself. You had never considered the possibility of seeing Wally again, and now that you were told that it was possible, your heart seemed to sing at the idea. But something was holding you back.
“What about Howdy?”
Frank sighed. “I can't help you with that. I'm afraid that's a decision you'll have to make on your own.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Eddie said, “you're not limited to one place. You can visit each afterlife whenever you want. I visited my parents in the upstairs the other day, but I'm staying here to be with Frank.” As he said this, he took Frank's hand and gave them a sweet smile. “So, uh, if you want to see Howdy again, you can. But you don't have to stay anywhere. You're free to do what you want.”
That seemed to loosen some of the tension in your chest. You took a deep breath and let your heart take over. “Okay. How do I use that spell?”
Frank smiled. “We'll need to get some things out of my office.”
You stood and followed Frank out the door. Sally whooped behind you, “Woo hoo! Lover boy's getting his partner back!”
“We'll have that Welcome Feast another time, alright?” Poppy called.
Barnaby just hummed to himself, considering adding another verse to “Remains of the Day” so that the story would have a happy ending, after all. Then again, he'd probably have to sacrifice the catchy instrumental part in the middle so the song wasn't too long, and he wasn't willing to do that.
You and Eddie stood in silence as you watched Frank dig through his various supplies. He scrutinized their spell book as he carefully measured and combined the ingredients. When they were finished, he handed you a small capsule the size of a marble.
“This is it?” you asked.
He nodded. “It looks unassuming, but it is a very powerful spell. All you have to do is crush it in your hand and you'll be sent to wherever your heart's desire is. Though, you may need to try and focus on one thing, or else you may get sent to the wrong place.”
“But don't worry. If you get lost, just find a graveyard and enter a crypt to go underground, and you'll find a village associated with that grave yard. You should be able to find your way back from there,” Eddie said.
You nodded, staring at the capsule in the palm of your hand.
Without warning, Eddie pulled you into a hug. “Take care of yourself, okay, bud? And you'd better visit us all the time, or I'll come find you, myself.”
You smiled and leaned into his hug. “I will. I promise.”
Frank sniffed and cleared their throat, trying to hide the fact that you reminded him of themselves when he was young and fell in love with Eddie for the first time. “Alright, go on before Eddie decides to make you stay here.”
You turned to Frank and gave him a hug, too. “Thank you,” you whispered.
They awkwardly patted your back. “Of course.” He led you out to his balcony that overlooked the village. “I will warn you, it may be a bit of a bumpy ride.”
You walked to the edge of the balcony, looked back over your shoulder at them as Eddie put his arm around Frank. You took a deep breath—just out of habit at this point, and it was an odd sensation to feel your lungs stretch for the first time in a while—then turned your face up. You closed your eyes and pictured Wally, wherever he was, then you squeezed your right hand until the capsule burst and a fine powder spilled out between your fingers.
Nothing happened, at first. You opened your eyes again and looked down, wondering if you'd done something wrong.
But then you felt another strange sensation: an unraveling, like your body was falling away from you. A gust of wind swirled around you, your feet and the tips of your fingers tingled, and your body transformed into hundreds of butterflies.
Just like Wally.
Normally, you would have been frightened. You weren't. Your heart jumped up in your throat with excitement. You almost laughed, but your face and mouth had been transformed by then.
You were jumbling, fluttering, riding on the wind current, spread out in a great cloud of delicate wings. You tumbled through the air, trying and failing to grasp what was happening and where you were going. The world flew past you in a blur. You felt free.
You jolted when your feet suddenly met solid ground. You blinked, held your hands out in front of you and found them whole again.
You were in a circular clearing in the middle of a grove of trees. You spun around in a circle, taking in your surroundings. The trees were all tall and dark, and each tree on the edge of this clearing had a door carved into it. A four-leaf clover, a big red heart, a Christmas tree? An Easter egg? These were all symbols associated with holidays.
“Oh!” a quiet voice sounded behind you. You turned to face them and stared, slack-jawed, at the person who met you. She was a tall, slender woman standing at the edge of the grove. Her skin was made of a blue fabric and she had long, red hair and wore a colorful, patchwork dress. A small basked was hanging from the crook of her arm, stuffed with sprigs of lavender. Her round, glassy, babydoll eyes blinked at you. She smiled and dipped her head down. “I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to find anyone else here.”
You struggled to find your words as you were still wrapping your head around the concept that a giant rag doll was talking to you. This was all a lot for you to take in one day. You coughed and said, “No, I'm sorry. I'm just... looking for someone.”
The woman tilted her head. “Is that so? Who are you looking for?”
“A man named Wally Darling. He's a...” You hesitated, unsure how foreign this would be to her.
But she finished the sentence for you. “A corpse? Like you?”
You smiled bashfully. “Yes.”
The woman grinned even bigger. “Then it's a good thing I found you. He's from the same town as me.”
That jolt of excitement shot through you again. It seemed like the spell that Frank made for you worked like a charm. “Really? Can you take me there?”
“Of course.” She walked up to you, her stride small and with a noticeable limp, thought she didn't seem to be in pain. She held out her hand. “My name is Sally, by the way,” she said.
Another Sally, you thought. You shook her hand and introduced yourself. She nodded, then motioned to the side toward a tree with a door shaped like a jack-o-lantern in it. “We'll be heading to Halloween Town. This is the fastest way there,” she continued. She limped to the tree, turned the knob that was disguised as the jack-o-lantern's nose, and the door swung outward. You cautiously approached it and looked down into the hollow tree. There was nothing but darkness, and the door opened to a steep drop-off that you couldn't see the bottom of.
“I find it easiest to just close my eyes and jump,” she said. “I know it can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but I promise, it's perfectly safe. My husband and I come through here all the time.”
You swallowed, grabbed hold of the doorway, and shut your eyes. A gentle breeze blew through, carrying the comforting scent of fallen leaves and caramel apples. A smile crept onto your face, and you pulled yourself through the doorway and jumped.
There was only a second of free fall before you landed smartly on your rear end in a giant pile of leaves. You grunted and clambered to your feet.
Sally appeared beside you. “Are you alright? That happens a lot for first-timers.”
You straightened up and said, “Yeah, I'm fine. Not like I can get much worse.”
She giggled at that and motioned for you to follow her. You walked together down a dirt path that cut through the woods and she asked you about where you came from and how you got here. She was a good listener as you told her everything.
“How do you know Wally?” she asked.
“We, um...” Your face heated up and you found yourself fiddling with the band on your right hand. “It's a long story. Let's just say we're... old friends.”
“I see,” she said with a knowing look that made you blush more. But then she looked forward and said, “Here we are.”
You both crested a hill and looked down on an archway with “Halloween Town” spelled out in black, iron letters. A large town bustled with activity down below. The architecture was conflictingly made of a combination of twisting, curving lines and jagged, sharp angles, and the citizens seemed to enjoy and monochrome color palette with occasional splashes of bright color. You followed Sally down the path and entered the town.
You had to keep yourself from gawking when you saw the first couple of citizens gathered in the town square: a wolf man dressed in tattered flannel chatting with a bulking man dressed in overalls with an axe stuck in his head. They both gawked at you, though, when you came into a view.
“Look! Queen Sally has brought in someone new!” the wolf man exclaimed with a gravelly voice.
You glanced at her. “Queen Sally?”
She blushed. “Ah, yes, I didn't mention that. I'm the Pumpkin Queen.”
“Oh!” You fumbled and started to bow, but Sally stopped you.
“Please, don't. That's exactly why I don't go around announcing that to everyone. Just treat me like you would anyone else.”
You nodded. “Sorry.”
“And don't apologize, either.” She hooked her arm around yours and said, “Now, let's go find Wally.”
She led you away, but not before you noticed that a trio of women, (witches, you guessed, based on their clothes and pointed hats) had gathered around the wolf man and were whispering conspiratorially.
You hadn't gone far before you stumbled upon two more citizens: a man wearing a long trench coat and tall, thin top hat, and an even taller, thin, and gangly skeleton dressed in a pin-stripped suit with tails on his coat and a bat bowtie. They were both leaned over something on a table.
Sally perked up a bit beside you. “Oh, that's my husband over there. He may know where Wally is.” She waved her free hand and called, “Jack! Jack!”
The skeleton looked up and his face split into a wide, toothy grin. “Sally! Perfect timing! Mr. Hyde and I were just testing out his newest creation. Would you care to see?”
She nodded and walked to the table, where Jack presented her with a large, orange bowl of candy with a small sign taped to the front that read “Just Take One.”
“A seemingly normal bowl, yes? Perfectly welcoming to trick-or-treaters.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
“Go and take a piece. Just one.”
Sally did as he said a delicately picked up a wrapped piece of butterscotch. She waited a moment, then raised a brow at him. “Is that all?”
“Precisely, because you were good and only took one. Now, pretend you are a greedy trick-or-treater and try to grab a handful.”
Sally nodded and drove her hand into the bowl, grabbing a large handful of candy, when a ghostly hand jumped from within the depths of the bowl and grabbed her wrist. She gasped, startled, then laughed. “What fun!”
Jack clapped Mr. Hyde on the back. “You see? A brilliant idea! I knew you were an excellent choice for the knew town scientist. Well done!”
Mr Hyde chuckled, pleased with himself. “You flatter me, Jack.”
Sally gently tugged at Jack's arm and whispered to him. He looked at you and his eyes lit up. “Oh, my apologies! I was so caught up in my work, I hadn't noticed you there.” He swept into a low bow. “Jack Skellington, Pumpkin King and Co-Representative of Halloween.” He stood upright and draped an arm over Sally's shoulder. “And you've already met my wife and partner, Sally.” He looked you up and down, then beamed. “We don't get very many new faces, but you seem like you'll fit right in, here.”
You cleared your throat and said, “Actually, Mr. uh, Skellington—”
“Please, Jack is fine.”
“Jack,” you corrected, “I'm actually looking for someone. Wally Darling?”
He raised a brow and glanced at Sally, who only smiled up at him. “Your name wouldn't happen to be Y/N, would it?”
Your eyes widened. “Yes. Why?”
“He talks about you all the time. Oh, he'll be over the moon when he sees you!”
You could have sworn that your heart thudded hearing that, but that couldn't have been possible, could it?
Jack tilted his head and hummed. “I just saw him a moment ago. I may know where he is. Follow me!” He let go of Sally and strode away. You glanced at Sally and she nodded to you, urging you forward, then you jogged to follow the skeleton.
Jack led the way down a twisting cobblestone path that led out of the town and into farmland that mostly consisted of pumpkins. He led you through a graveyard and up a steep hill, and his long strides took him up the hill faster than you could keep up with. You couldn't run out of breath, anymore, but that didn't stop your muscles from aching as you hiked after him. As you reached the top of the hill, you could see another hill in the distance that made the shape of a spiral. As you took in the view, your gaze wandered from the massive spiral and down to the bottom where another there was another pumpkin patch.
You froze when you saw him. There was no mistaking him with his blue, patchwork skin and signature hair style. He wasn't wearing the wedding tuxedo anymore; now he donned a simple white shirt and blue striped pants. He was seated at a stool in the middle of the pumpkin patch with an easel in front of him, hard at work on a painting. You would have gasped if you still had breath, and your body moved before you completely comprehended what you were seeing.
Wally.
As you came closer, you could see that he was recreating the view of the spiral hill on his painting. His back was to you, and he hummed quietly as he worked, so deep in thought that he didn't notice you and Jack approaching until Jack called his name.
“Wally! I thought we'd find you here.” Jack leaned over Wally's shoulder and looked at the painting. “Ah, is this my commission? It's coming along swimmingly.”
All you saw was Wally's side profile as he smiled up at Jack. “Thank you. I'm just touching up a few details, right now. It should be finished in a day or so, when it dries.”
“It will be a wonderful anniversary gift. Sally will love it!”
Wally turned back to his painting, and Jack glanced at you like he'd just remembered you were there. “Actually, Wally, I needed to speak to you.”
“Hm?”
“It seems,” Jack said, putting his hand on Wally's shoulder, “that someone is here to see you.”
Wally gave Jack a confused look, then turned.
His eyes widened, and the paintbrush fell from his limp fingers.
Neither of you moved. His eyes trailed up and down your body. He stood, took a few hesitant steps forward, and said, “Y/N?”
You smiled. “Hello, Wally,” you said.
Jack was beaming.
Wally blinked, then shook his head. “I'm dreaming.”
You almost laughed. Your hands were shaking. “No, you're not.”
“I am. You... you can't be here. It's not possible.”
“Wally...”
“I'm going to open my eyes, and you'll be gone.”
You approached him, took his hand, and pressed it against your face. His eyes dilated and his mouth fell open.
“I'm here,” you whispered.
He studied your face, and his fingers trailed down your jaw and to your neck, where they found the stitches. He glanced at them, and his mouth opened wider. “Oh...” His other hand found your neck and he gently traced the stitches. He gently turned your head from side to side as he looked you over like he was just noticing the bluish tint your skin had taken, and his gaze fell on the stitches on your temple. “What happened?”
“A carriage accident.”
He covered his mouth. “Oh, no...”
You took his hand again. “It's alright. I don't remember anything.”
You noticed tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I'm so sorry.”
You cupped his cheek. “Don't be. I'm alright.”
Jack coughed. “I believe you two will be wanting some time alone?” He leaned down and whispered to Wally, “I recommend the top of Spiral Hill. Very romantic spot.” He winked, and Wally started to blush.
“Thank you,” he mumbled before he gripped your hand tightly and led you toward Spiral Hill. You trudged to the top together, hand in hand, and you looked out over the view of the graveyard and pumpkin patch, grey and black with dots of orange.
Wally turned to you and took a tight hold of both your hands. “Tell me everything.”
You didn't speak, because with him holding your hands I noticed something for the first time. When you had met before, when you were still alive, whenever he touched you his skin was always freezing cold. Now it wasn't. You realized it was because we were the same temperature. It made you want to hold him closer.
“I already told you, I was in a carriage accident.”
“No, no. I mean... tell me about your life. What happened after I left?”
“You want me to tell you all of that? Right now?”
He nodded. “We have all the time in the world, now.”
You grinned, and then you did just that. You told him about your marriage to Howdy, the relationship you had formed, the good and bad times, and you told him that during those seven years, you never forgot him. You were afraid that he would be upset or sad when you told him about your marriage, but he seemed to be the contrary.
“I'm glad,” he said. “I was hoping I was making the right decision. It's good to know that you lived a good life after I was gone, even if... even if it was a short one.”
He had looked away, and you gently cupped his cheek so that he would look at you. “The others in the Land of the Dead said that the reason I stayed behind was likely because I had unfinished business. At first, I didn't know what they were talking about, but I think I do, now.” Despite building up to that, you suddenly became bashful and couldn't quite find the words.
Wally touched your hand on his face and leaned into it. “You were looking for me?”
You nodded. “The thing is... I missed y—”
He interrupted you by pressing his lips to yours.
He had only ever kissed you once before, that night on the bridge. You weren't sure if that even counted since you fainted when he did. You remembered being terrified back then, your stomach swirling and your heart thumping so hard and fast you thought you were about to have a heart attack. You remembered how cold his lips were, and how dizzy you were from the fear.
This was different. Obviously, you weren't afraid, now, but it was more than that. It was rushed and passionate, not the formal seal of the vows that Wally had done before. And it was warm. You still felt dizzy, though.
When he pulled away, you stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then you took his shoulders and pulled him back to you for another kiss. Your hand went to the back of his head and your fingers tangled into his soft hair. His hands trailed up and down your back. You gripped each other as if the second one of you let go, you'd be lost forever. You finally pulled away again when you heard the sound of an applause in the distance.
At the top of one of the nearby hills, a small crowd of monsters and ghouls had formed, and they were whooping and cheering. Jack and Sally stood at the center of the crowd, smiling up at you as Sally leaned into Jack's shoulder.
“So much for alone time,” you muttered. You turned back to Wally to see him beaming up at you. His eyes sparkled.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into a twirl. You yelped in surprise and gripped his shoulders. He laughed heartily as he set you back down, then he leaned his forehead into yours, and for a moment you simply relished in each other's company.
“Thank you,” he said. “I've missed you, too. I know that I was selfish before, but I really am glad that you came to find me.”
You were surprised to feel your heart melting a bit when he said that—it seemed that even if your heart didn't beat anymore, it was still capable of swelling and melting with emotion.
The ring on your right hand glinted in the moonlight. A knot formed in your throat. “I think... I think I know what my unfinished business is, now.”
Wally tilted his head, curious.
You took the ring off your finger and held it up to him. “I want to try again. Properly, this time. Nothing in our way, and no interruptions. I want to give you the wedding you deserve.”
Wally's eyes widened a bit, then he chuckled and shook his head. “It was never just about the wedding, you know. I wanted true love. A happy ending.”
“Exactly,” you said. “I want to give you that. A big, beautiful ceremony to celebrate true love, and a real happily ever after.” You cleared your throat, suddenly nervous. “If you'd like that, I mean.”
He broke into a wide smile. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
You nodded. “Yes. Will you marry me? Again?”
He laughed again and pulled you into a hug. “Yes. If you will have me.”
You closed your eyes and leaned into the hug. “Of course I will.”
You finally pulled apart once again to slip the band on Wally's finger, right where it belonged.
A/N: Yes, I already know I'm cringe. Don't look at me.
377 notes · View notes