#make music around a spooky graveyard

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔨𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 (յգշգ) 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔚𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔘𝔟 ℑ𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔨𝔰.

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Seven - Halloween

W/C: 10K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Or where you show up to the town's biggest Halloween Bash and you unexpectantly take on the roll of a babysitter.

A/N: this is a long one..and tbh some of it isn't edited...but i'm super excited about this one but also nervous.

Masterlist

Prev | Next

Bass bumped through the unfamiliar house, vibrating all the way down the driveway and to the street where you stood.  Shouting could be heard, no doubt a collection of drunks getting overly excited about something usually mundane.  Fog smothered the driveway, a decision you felt was made by someone sober at the time of setting it up only to neglect the fact that everyone would be wasted by the time it got dark, sending people tumbling down the driveway in their drunken state.  It did add to the atmosphere though, a nice touch that gave it that eerie, spooky feel the owner was probably going for.  

As you trekked up the lengthy and steep driveway, a mock graveyard sat to the right, taking up the space that would usually be the front yard.  Fake limbs stuck out of the dirt and splatters of blood painted the plastic headstones.   A lonely skeleton sat propped up against one, his arm hanging around it as if it were his good friend.  Some pumpkins appeared to be slaughtered and littered throughout the yard, the guts surely rotting in the grass and in one of the trees, hung a hopefully fake body, swaying in the chilly breeze.

From what you had heard, the owners went all out every year, Halloween night being their specialty.  The closer to the house you got, the louder the music and the louder the voices got.  Donnie had told you that it would be a rager but you severely underestimated her words and took them as a joke.  You were already hesitant to even attend but now, you were fully questioning if you should even dare to step through the door.  It’d be smart to turn around now and go home, maybe watch a few movies and indulge in that candy you’d bought and placed in a large bowl on the coffee table at home.  Half of it was gone of course, you stealing a piece here and there throughout the past week.  You could stuff your face with the rest if you left now.  

No. 

You had to be brave and walk through that door with confidence.  Even if it was fake.  You were never going to meet new people if you kept hiding away in your tower.  This town was never going to feel like home if you didn't start treating it like it.  Donnie was the closest person you had to a friend and as much as you appreciated her, she was more than half your age and had a whole family already.  She mentioned that people ‘your age’ would definitely be at this party, everyone went to this party.

You can’t miss it.  She assured.

But on another hand, no one would miss you anyway, no one ever did.  Even if they did know of you.  There was no harm in trekking back down the driveway and rushing home to snuggle up in your pajamas, right?

No, you have to do this.  You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone even if it feels like you're diving off a cliff.  But what if everyone stares at you?  And whispers about how they didn’t invite you?  Donnie promised anyone who’s anyone attends this party, even people from a few town’s over who hear about it from a friend of a friend.  So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you just didn’t belong?  That you were intruding.  

Everyone’s gonna hate me.

It was especially embarrassing that you were wearing a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz costume.  It wasn’t even all that out there but you felt so uncomfortable without your standard wardrobe.  You felt as if your ruby red glittery heels would suddenly draw unwanted attention, your pigtails making a mockery out of you even if just for the costume.  Everyone dressed up so why were you the exception?  Why were you the only one they would single out, especially in such a common Halloween costume?  You were sure there would probably be much more flamboyant costumes, ghouls and goblins covered in blood, zombies with ungodly amounts of face paint, and even vampires with those ridiculous plastic teeth.  No one made fun of them so why were you so insecure?

Every possible outcome ran through your brain while you stalled on the doormat.  That is until two men dressed in chicken suits bursted through the door, cackling while they set up for a smoke break on the front porch, completely missing you as you stood there terrified.  They leaned over the railing as they went on, slurring about how crazy it was that someone had somehow punctured a hole in the keg, a seemingly impossible task.  

You took the opportunity to slip in through the cracked door, gently closing it behind you as you entered the chaos that was the famous Knife’s Edge Halloween Bash.  Strobe lights flashed in the corners of what you could make out as the living room and the regular light bulbs in the ceiling were all switched out for purple and green, adding to the ambience.  The floor was hidden beneath a sea of people dancing their hearts out to Thriller by Michael Jackson, some attempting to actually perform the dance, and others simply flailing their limbs around and hoping for the best.  

A rather convincing mummy was stealing the show, everyone else creating a circle around him as he danced like no one was watching.  Not one person glanced your way, either too intoxicated to notice or just unbothered seeing as there were already over a hundred people occupying the house.  The line of cars you’d seen up and down the street should have given that away but to be fair, you were too busy running circles in your head and rehearsing how you were going to walk in.  All of that went straight to the garbage once you saw the nature of the place.  

Everyone was too caught up in having fun to take note of a timid Dorothy sneaking through the front door.  Fun.  Something you couldn’t see yourself having unless you had at least a drink or two in you.  It’s sad but it was the only way to loosen up around such a large volume of people. Sobriety was not an option unless you wanted to remain an anxious fly on the wall.  

The only issue was finding the source of alcohol, more than likely in the kitchen which you had yet to locate.  In order to get anywhere, you would have to weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies, the smell of tequila and beer already filling your nostrils just by standing a few feet away from them.  

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your little wicker basket close to your body and begin squeezing in between people with a polite ‘excuse me’ accompanying every accidental touch.  Along the way you pass a preppy cheerleader, a few stereotypical vampires, a cowboy and a cow, a dentist, and some guy with a fake chainsaw covered in fake blood.  You’re finally able to see your destination just through a large archway, relief already finding you as you inch closer and closer. 

The kitchen’s fluorescent lighting is a major contrast to the purple and green throughout the rest of the house.  It still follows the spooky theme, however, with an orange tablecloth draped over the island and purple and orange streamers hanging from the doorway.  On the island sits a large punch bowl filled with mysterious red liquid along with a stack of red cups and a few choices of liquor next to it.  A bowl of pretzels and some Halloween themed cupcakes are placed next to that, and at the other end, is a bucket of candy along with some various kinds of chips.  

Hanging from the chandelier is a homemade ghost using a torn sheet, the eyes and mouth filled in with sharpie.  The floor is sticky as you slowly make your way forward, most likely the mysterious liquid that had been spilled several times throughout the night already.  More shouting can be heard from the living room, some kind of dance off being announced that you would gladly hide from.  So far, you didn’t recognize anyone although it would be pretty difficult to seeing as everyone was dressed up.

Gingerly, you grab a cup and scoop the smallest amount of the mystery liquid in.  Upon taking the tiniest sip, you can determine that it's some kind of jungle juice.  A hangover in a cup.  With disgust written on your face, you discreetly throw out the remaining juice in the sink, instead opting to take a shot or two to loosen up.  Maybe just one for now.  You learned your lesson when taking four straight tequila shots at a time and didn’t need a repeat.  Especially at a party with several hundred people as witnesses.

So you fill the bottom of your cup with some whiskey, a generous shot.  Throwing it back, it goes down a lot smoother than that tequila had, the burn being mild but still causing your face to twist.  The cup is discarded in the trash, cutting yourself off before you can get ahead so as not to get absolutely wasted within minutes.  If you had an appetite, you’d snatch one of those delicious looking cupcakes but unfortunately, you needed to pace yourself.  Nerves and alcohol didn't make for the most stable stomach and you were already feeling queasy just from the mere thought of having to socialize with strangers.  

Exploring further into the house, you exit through the other archway leading into a dining room that displays even more food than the kitchen, a whole buffet laid out for guests including potato salad, macaroni salad, various horderves, snack mix, a giant bowl of M&Ms, and more.  A dream for a child, dinner and dessert all in one.  

A few partygoers were scooping some food onto their plates, chatting about who knows what while you moved on to the next room which appeared to be the family room.  The TV played some kind of horror film while absolutely no one watched it, the room almost empty aside from a couple in the corner making out.  

A few pops and some celebratory yells are heard just out the back sliding door, drawing you in.  The closer you got,  you could see someone dressed as a scarecrow holding a bottle of champagne overflowing onto the deck.  You were curious as to what everyone was celebrating but got cold feet when you reached for the handle, your hand glued to it but not putting any effort into actually sliding it open.  Just as you decided you were going to chicken out and find a corner to hang out in instead, someone points at the door, outing you, causing your blood to run cold in embarrassment.  When the scarecrow turns around, you can see that it's Donnie, face paint pulling her whole look together.  

At the sight of you, her face lights up, hands thrown up in excitement as the champagne she’s holding sloshes over and further coats the deck.  She doesn’t seem to mind, as she hands off the bottle to someone else and makes her way over to the door, sliding it open.  Your cheeks begin to feel hot as people stare at the interaction, unwanted attention that you could’ve escaped had you been quicker.  

“You made it!”  She just about squeals, giving you a tight squeeze.  

She had clearly had a few drinks, unafraid of any affection as she previously stated that she hated friendly affection of any kind, more prone to use her words to show appreciation.  But you didn’t mind, Donnie was the one person you were comfortable with and your one friend so if she happened to show affection while under the influence, so be it.  And maybe by her doing so, you wouldn’t appear to be such a freak to what seemed to be her friends.  Maybe it would grant you acceptance into their circle.  

“I made it.”  You repeat with a polite smile.

“So we were just popping some champagne we found.”  Donnie explains.  “No rhyme or reason, we just found it inside and thought, hell lets just go at it.”

Nodding, you try to appear as enthusiastic as possible, covering up your anxiety to the best of your ability.  People were still staring at you and it was proving difficult to just ignore it, holes practically being burned into you.  A few of them you recognized as regulars at the bar but the rest were complete strangers.  Either way, you were intimidated.  

“You want some?”  Donnie offers to which you begin shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’m okay!  I already had something and I have to drive later anyway.”  You explain.

Donnie nods understandingly before starting a dreadful introduction to the group.  She points out Brian, Sam, and Wyatt, her sons who were fully grown, the oldest Brian, being around thirty.  You didn’t catch who was the youngest or middle since Donnie was talking so fast.  Then she reintroduces you to her husband, Nathan, who you had previously met at the supermarket though Donnie didn’t seem to remember in her current state.  Then there were the owners of the house, Crystal and Gabriel, a very nice couple in their forties who made Halloween their night and everyone knew it.  Apparently Thanksgiving was Donnie and Nathan’s holiday according to a little comment uttered by Crystal.  There were what seemed to be a dozen more introductions though you couldn’t recall every single person.  You only remember Donnie skimming by an introduction to Jett’s mom, Kristy who seemed like a lovely woman.

Thankfully, once everyone was acquainted with you, they seemed to move one rather quickly and continued on with their festivities.  A fire pit sat in the middle of the deck, crackling away while a few individuals rested on the chairs circling it, warming themselves up.  Some orange lights were wound around the railing accompanied by some fake cotton spiderwebs.  Everyone held a drink in their hand except you and you were starting to regret not at least carrying your empty cup with you to occupy your awkward hands.  Rookie mistake.

Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow with each passing second, panic settling in as you attempt to remember how to act like a person.  You almost contemplate rushing off to the bathroom to hide but quickly scrap the idea, knowing Donnie may take notice.  Instead, you stupidly shuffle your feet in place, trying to ground yourself with no luck.  

In your inner turmoil, you can vaguely hear everyone else engaging in conversation about their lives or some silly story.  Something you didn’t care to tune into as your inner monologue chants at you to run.  Even with the one shot that you thought would relax you, you still feel your shoulders tensing and your jaw tightening anxiously.  If anyone were to initiate small talk with you right now, you’d come off like a dunce, thoughts unable to form gracefully.  Tonight was definitely a bad idea and you should’ve just stayed home where you knew your place.

Uncomfortably, you remain standing as everyone passes around the champagne.  There was no way to dismiss yourself without seeming like you were rude and awkward.  This was hell.  

“Okay, elders!”  You hear a familiar voice from around the corner, steps clunking up the deck stairs.  “We got your drugs, now pay up.”  

Jett emerges, a second pair of steps heard behind him.  He’s dressed like a greaser, hair slicked back as he wears a white shirt tucked into his tight jeans.

“We got the goodies!”  Eddie singsongs from behind him, dangling a plastic bag full of weed.  

Eddie seems to be dressed as…himself?  With a bit of smudged eyeliner.  His torso is covered with his standard black leather jacket and he’s pretty much wearing what he wears in his day to day.  Except when he dramatically flings his leather jacket at Jett, he sports a very revealing cut off shirt, all ripped and torn.  And his fingernails are painted black.

“Jeez, Eddie!  You’re gonna catch a cold, put that back on or go inside!”  Donnie scolds.

“‘M fine.”  He mutters, tossing the weed at Jett who just barely catches it as he drops Eddie’s jacket to the floor.

Donnie sighs, giving up on the argument seeing that Eddie was too stubborn to listen.  Suddenly you feel yourself warm up, the chill October air no longer pinching at your cheeks as they grow hot again.  Not out of embarrassment this time. 

“Gon’ get ‘nother beer.”  Eddie mumbles, stumbling toward you though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“That kid gives me a headache and he’s not even mine.”  Donnie says.

“Hey!”  Eddie whines, turning back toward the group mid stride.  “You claimed me ‘s one ‘f your own, ‘member?”  He points at her.

Several people chuckle at the scene while Donnie rolls her eyes and waves him off.  He was clearly a lot more intoxicated than everyone else.  His waddle toward the sliding door is evidence enough.  

“Drink some water, boy.”  Nathan advises.

“‘Rink some water.”  Eddie mocks in a high pitch to himself while hiccuping before colliding into your shoulder.  “Oh shit.”

Stumbling backwards, you stabilize yourself while his hands reach out and rest a bit too comfortably on top of your shoulders, heavy handed.  Almost as if he were using you to keep himself up.  When you dare to glance up, you’re met with heavy, glazed over eyes, bloodshot and decorated in smeared black liner.  His lips paint a perfectly content smile as he sways back and forth, unbalanced.

“Bambi.”  He cooes.

“Hi.”  You whisper, startled like a mouse.

“Heyyy.”  He draws out eyes becoming even heavier if possible.

“Um—“

“Munson, get off ‘er.”  Jett laughs, shoving Eddie to the side.  He manages to save himself from face planting into the deck, leaning himself against the side of the house.

“Should kick ‘yr ass.”  Eddie mutters, glaring at Jett.

“No one wants you leanin’ on ‘em like that!”  Jett defends.  “Hey, Bambi.”  He greets you.

At this, Eddie appears enraged, his face visibly going red as he shoots Jett a glare that no one would want to be on the receiving end of.  Everyone else seemed to have moved on, paying no mind to Eddie’s sudden shift in mood.

“Hi, Jett.”  You reply, a friendly grin gracing your lips.

With a grunt, Eddie pushes off the wall and storms inside, evidently pissed about something.  Jett shares the same confused expression as you, shrugging while he starts asking how you are, if you’re enjoying the party, and if you’d seen the huge array of food they had out yet.  You answer all of his questions to his satisfaction but mentally, you’re trying to track Eddie down.  Trying to understand what set him off and made him leave with such irritation.  Had this been the first week you met him, you would’ve dismissed it as his normal temper but now that you’d known him for almost two months and gotten to know how his emotions function, you knew better. 

He had also clearly been under the influence which could mean nothing happened and his emotions were just sensitive.  But you had a strong suspicion that there was a definite reason he abruptly got angry and rushed inside.  No one else seemed to notice, aside from you and Jett.  And he obviously paid no mind and didn’t intend on going after Eddie so maybe you were missing something.  Or maybe everyone was also blinded by their intoxication and you were the only sound minded individual in the group right now.

“Oh and then—“

“I think I’m gonna head inside, it’s kinda cold out here.”  You interrupt Jett’s tangent on his and Eddie’s journey down the road to collect the weed they had been sent to pick up.

“Oh well just take this.”  He says, snatching up Eddie’s jacket off the ground and handing it to you.

You should’ve come up with a different excuse though to be fair, you didn’t think he’d hand you Eddie’s jacket.  He was supposed to follow your lead and let you go inside.  Wasn’t he concerned about Eddie too? 

“T-thank you.”  You clutch the jacket in your hand, draping it over your forearm.

“Yeah!  So we were just walking—“

“Jett, I’m sorry I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”  You cut him off again.

You felt bad for seeming so uninterested in what he had to say but you couldn’t go much longer without knowing if Eddie had gotten himself into trouble.  He was super out of it from what you could tell and it was eating away at you.  It only made it worse that he was so angry and if you were the most sober one at the party, it would be in your hands if something happened to him and you knew he had run off.

“Okay—“

Before Jett can get another word in, you spin on your heel and rush inside, the music still blaring and everyone still screaming from the living room.  The whole house felt like it was vibrating, your body buzzing as the bass dropped.  That same couple still remained in the corner making out, their stamina impressing you.

Entering the kitchen, there’s no sight of Eddie, only a few guests topping off their drinks and toasting to themselves loudly.  Realistically, you should take another shot to calm your nerves but this nightmare of an evening needed to be cut short and you would need to drive home as soon as you found him and returned him to the group.  

Dreadfully walking yourself back into the living room where the heart of the party beats, you focus on each individual, attempting to spot the one dressed in all black with almost no shirt, tattoos, and a head full of brown curls.  It proves to be more difficult since the lighting was so dim and the strobe lights left you seeing spots.  

Everyone seems to be having the time of their life and here you are, worried sick about someone who never thinks twice about you.  Even before he arrived you were having the worst time and wanted to go home immediately.  Halloween would’ve been perfect if you stayed home where you couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of people.  

“Tequila!”  A woman dressed as a slutty maid shouts, carrying a tray full of shots past you, only eliciting a gag from the back of your throat at the smell.  “No tequila for you then.”  She jokes, you shaking your head as you cover your nose.

It was obvious that Eddie wasn’t going to hit the dance floor after getting so infuriated. Unless that’s the first thing he would do in his state?  You weren’t completely sure but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t.  As a large group gathers around for shots, you manage to escape down a hallway where you imagine the bathroom might be.  It’s completely dark, the only light coming from underneath a door on the left, probably the bathroom.  At the end of the hall is what looks like a bedroom, the moonlight shining in from the blinds to just barely reveal a bed.  

No one seemed to be in said bed, an empty room for people to crash in at the end of the night.  Eddie could be in the bathroom but you’d have to be sure before leaving.  With a shy knock on the door, struggle to hear any voice that might respond.  Pressing your ear to the door, you try again, only to be met with the annoyed voice of a woman saying she’ll be out in a second and that she was fixing her lipstick.

Clearly not Eddie.

At this point you’ve covered the downstairs, no sign of the man so far.  He would be good at hide and seek, you assume.  Or maybe you’re just the blind.  Retracing your steps back out into the living room, you collide with a few bodies, none of them paying any mind to the impact as they continue to dance, flailing around like rag dolls.  You didn’t think it was possible for the room to get any more humid but you were proven wrong, sweat grazing your arms as you pass by and attempt to avoid touching anyone, failing miserably.  

Your perfect ruby heels are starting to kill you, digging into your skin in all the wrong places, making it more difficult to walk with every step you take.  You know for sure that come the morning, you’ll have blisters that will be bothering you for days.  Reluctantly, you slide them off and scoop them up, dangling them by your fingers, Eddie’s jacket still hanging off your arm.  You were becoming a walking closet.

Going upstairs didn’t seem like a great decision seeing as this wasn’t your house and you didn’t want to give Crystal and Gabriel the impression that you liked to snoop around.  Although, if someone did see you, you could just vouch for yourself by saying you were looking for a bathroom and the downstairs one was taken already.  So up you went, nervously glancing behind you.  The coast seemed clear, not one person paying you any mind, the party still capturing their undivided attention.

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood.  He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s.  His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean.  You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs.  The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!”  He whines into the door,  pounding on it with more force.  “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.”  He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with.  You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.”  You offer, slowly walking up behind him.  

“Pfft, it’s locked.”  He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom.  It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it.  Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”  You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.”  He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!”  Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!”  You yell through the door.

“God.”  He groans, a stream following.  “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?”  You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again.  He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it.  What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything?  It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him.  Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out.  Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.  

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on.  You can’t take it anymore.  You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state.  Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way.  You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth.  His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat.  You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.  

“Ah shit.”  He complains, shaking his head.  “Round two, get o—out”.  He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment.  Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”  You encourage him, hesitantly running a hand over his back, regretting doing so as you feel the muscles under his skin tense.

“Seriously, out.”  He almost vomits, swallowing it down.  

The action alone should be enough to have you jumping up and leaving but you stay.  

“Eddie, just puke it all up.  It’s fine.  I’m gonna hold your hair.”  You tell him.

He shudders, glancing over at you with his bloodshot eyes.  It’s like he’s shooting daggers at you before his eyes soften involuntarily, irises becoming that caramel toned warmness you were becoming more and more familiar with.  His pupils are dilated, huge planets in the middle of his eyes, clearly high and drunk though you still recognize the puppy dog-look he was giving you.  

“Eddie, if you don’t puke right now—“

As if on command, he lunges forward and spews out the rest of his stomach.  The sound makes you wince but you try to hide it as best as you can for his sake.  It’s not his fault his body is reacting to the substances he put into his body.  Maybe it is his fault since he put those substances into his body but regardless, you felt for him.  Once it has to come out, it has to come out and there’s no going back.  

“There you go.”  You soothe, fingertips gently raking up and down his spine.

“Fuck.”  He whispers into the bowl, spitting out a huge glob of saliva. It would repulse you if it were anyone else.

“It’s okay.”  You whisper just as quietly.

Grabbing the toilet paper and folding it a few times, you rip it and hand it to him to clean himself up.  You linger for a few seconds, waiting for him to grab it but he only continues to stare into the toilet bowl, hands braced on either side.  Just when you’re about to speak up again, he goes in for a third round.  You can’t help but feel bad for him even if the smell is nauseating you.  

“You want some water?”  You offer, standing up in preparation to go find him some.

“No, stay.”  He blindly grabs the hem of your dress, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

He didn’t seem to have a follow up reason as to why he wanted you to stay but you do anyway.  It was still a concern of yours that he stayed hydrated but you would tuck the thought aside momentarily to appease him.  

“Okay, what do you need?”  

Finally, he relaxes, his stomach seemingly empty now as he sits back against the wall.  A sigh leaves his lips, relief slipping off of them as he gazes up at the ceiling.  Shutting his eyes, he shows no indication of responding anytime soon, his pale face exhausted.  Sitting down beside him was your best bet, that way if he did decide that he needed to spill his guts again, you were there to assist.  And it was especially comforting to sit there just in case he passed out since he was at risk of hitting his head against something.  He was obviously still out of it, sobriety seeping in very slowly, the room more than likely spinning from his perspective.

“Dizzy?”  You ask.

“Mhm.”  He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would aid in steadying the room.

“You need water.”

“Mm.”  He disagrees, shaking his head.

“Yes, it’ll help with the dizziness…probably.”  You tell him, standing up once again.

This time he doesn’t protest, the message sinking in.  You do, however, worry what could happen in the seconds that you’re gone.  But, you have no other options right now.

“Stay here—Eddie, stay here.  Do you hear me?  Don’t move.”  You try to drill into his brain.

All he offers is a weak nod, unable to even open his eyes.  Satisfied enough with the response, you speed out of the bathroom and down the stairs into the kitchen.  It was easy enough to grab a cup and fill it with water, dodging the wasted party guests that had gathered around the counter to play some kind of drinking game.

“Hey, where did you run off to!”  Jett calls over to you.

Carefully, carrying the cup of water as not to spill, you turn around to meet his cheerful face.  He had clearly gotten into that weed stash as his eyes were even more bloodshot than Eddie’s and his face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it.  And he was a pretty laid back guy so that was saying something.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s not feeling good so I was just helping him out.”  You explain.

Jett offers a suspicious squint, eyes glimmering in mischief as he reaches for a cupcake.  

“What?”  You ask genuinely.

He shakes his head, sticking his hands up in surrender which only makes you question the strange boy further.  What was going on in that hyperactive mind of his?

“Nothin’”  He smirks, orange icing coating his upper lip.

You didn’t have time for him to elaborate, if you could even get him to.  You just needed to get back upstairs, you had already been gone for a few seconds too long, worry burying in your gut like a parasite.

“Okay, I have to get back to Eddie and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Mmmhmm.”  Jett giggles.

If only you had the time to interrogate him and inquire as to why he found that so funny.  But you didn’t.  Leaving him behind to laugh to himself, you can just barely make out one last word as you turn on your heel.

“Lovebirds.”

Your eyes grow ten times bigger as you scurry away.  Did he think that’s what this was?  That you were on your way to hook up with your boss?  Did it look that way to everyone else?  Jett was going to rat you out for something you weren’t even doing, you were convinced.  No matter how nice of a guy Jett proved he was, he was higher than a kite and could start up a rumor like wildfire if he relayed his suspicion to anyone.  It’s possible you were being paranoid but come the morning, if there were rumors floating around, you knew exactly who to blame.

Trying to shake the butterflies you felt taking your stomach hostage, you concentrate on getting the water upstairs without spilling a drop.  It was evident that you had filled the cup a tad too high, giving you even more of a challenge.  As you conquer the stairs, you anxiously peer around the corner into the bathroom, hoping and praying that Eddie had listened and didn’t move an inch.  Otherwise, you were on another goosechase for a six foot tall metalhead for the second time that night and respectfully, your organs wouldn’t be able to handle another spurt of anxiety like that.

Much to your relief, Eddie sits against the wall just as you had left him, eyes still shut tight and head bowed.  He doesn’t seem to hear your sock covered feet padding into the bathroom, not one muscle twitching.  

“Eddie.”  You call, holding the water in front of him.

No answer.

“Eddie?”  You say, more panicked.

Nothing.

“Okay, this isn’t funny, Eddie.  C’mon, drink the water.”  You tell him, gripping his chin as you examine him.  

His eyes seem to flutter beneath his eyelids, brows furrowing as his head resists your hand and leans toward gravity.  You continue to hold him up, giving his cheek a small pat.  A deep groan escapes him although he’s still practically sleeping.  

“Eddie.”  Shaking his shoulders, he only moves like a rag doll in your hold.  “Eddie, wake up.”

“Mmm.”  He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Okay, I gotta take you home.”  You decide, placing your hands on your hips, attempting to determine just how you were going to even get him into your car.

You couldn’t leave him here, he was still wasted.  You could leave him with Donnie and everyone to look after him but what was the point if you were going to go home anyway and he lived right next to you?  There was no use in making them babysitters if there was a more logical solution.  

“‘M fine.”  He says, curling up into a ball.

“No, Eddie, get up.  Get up.”  You try to be firm with him but he remains on the floor, comfy as ever with his hands tucked beneath his head.  “Shit.”  You sigh.

It was time to call in some reinforcements.

–

“Jesus Christ, he’s really fucked up isn’t he?”  Jett stares down at the figure of a sleeping Eddie on the bathroom floor, perfectly content.  

“Yeah, can you guys just carry him to my car and I can figure out the rest once I get home?”  You plead.

Jett and Nathan share a look of concern to which you raise your eyebrows in confusion, expecting an explanation.  They glance once more at Eddie’s sleeping body and then back up to you, appearing as if that had said everything though you were still lost.

“How are you…going to carry him out of the car?”  Nathan asks, his bushy gray eyebrows knit in thought.

In all fairness, you didn’t think far enough into the future.  If it were only you, you assume you would be required to drag his body across the yard and onto the porch before fishing out his keys and lugging him up onto his couch before leaving some water next to him and dismissing yourself.  The affair may take you over an hour considering Eddie was proving to be a stubborn drunk.  But you’d surely manage if it had to be done.

“I dunno, I’ll work something out.”  You tell him.

Nathan glances over to Jett once more, concerned expression only deepening as he peers back down at Eddie.  Jett shrugs, surrendering the decision to both of you.

“How ‘bout this.”  Nathan starts.  “We’ll follow you home and help you get him situated–”

“God, ‘m up!  ‘M up, okay!”  Eddie takes the three of you by surprise as he rapidly pushes off the floor and begins standing on wobbly legs.  

“You sure about that?”  Jett teases while Eddie stabilizes himself against the sink.

“Fuck off.”

Eddie’s aggravated demeanor persists once again, a pathetic puppy dog pout at his lips while his eyes become overshadowed by eyebrows, a stern scowl forming.  If it was meant to intimidate anyone, he was sadly mistaken.  Instead, Jett snickers behind his hand, attempting to hide his grin.

“I’m kidding, I’m just kidding.”  Jett continues to chuckle, avoiding Eddie’s harsh gaze.

“What is goin’ on here?”  Donnie emerges from the stairs.  

“Christ, ‘s go.”  Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes.

Donnie’s face contorts in confusion at his attitude, something that if it were directed towards you, you wouldn’t think twice about.  It was no secret that his moodiness carried over even when he was intoxicated.  But you suppose she has a motherly hold on him and should he act up, she wasn’t afraid to confront him.  It didn’t matter how much taller or how grown of a man he was, she wouldn’t hesitate to pinch him by the ear and drag him off to give him a lesson in manners.

Obediently, Eddie backs down, his expression instantly relaxing.  His scowl is replaced with a blank face, any negative thoughts seeming to fall right out of his head.

“You’re leavin’?”  Donnie questions.

Rather than answering, Eddie shifts his gaze to you expectantly.  Like you were suddenly his keeper.  It was odd, going from being absolutely repulsive in his eyes when you’d first met him, to him essentially submitting to you so willingly.  He was wasted but it was still something you fondly tucked into the back of your mind to remember later, like a little postcard for yourself.

“I, uh, yeah.  I was just heading out and I thought…since we’re neighbors…”  You try to elaborate, only feeling as if you were digging yourself into a deeper hole as you remember Jett’s comment from earlier.

Low and behold, the brief glance you offer Jett only confirms it, a huge smirk displayed on his face just for you.  It was enough for the blood to rush into your cheeks, practically sizzling to the touch.

“You just got here.”  Donnie complains.

Jett puffs out his cheeks, offering some kind of communication that has Donnie reeling back on her previous statement.

“It is late though and if he’s really not feeling good…”  She reasons.

You weren’t stupid and you knew Jett was assuming the position of a wingman and somehow, he was able to convey that to Donnie in just one simple look.  And she ran with it, much to your surprise.  Eddie seemed to check out of any conversation, bags hanging underneath his eyes while they drooped in boredom, his tall frame leaning against the wall as he toyed with the chain attached to his jeans.

Externally, you were irked, irritation written all over your face, even a hint of disgust could be found within your features.  But internally, you were having quite the opposite reaction.  Those damn butterflies had started up again, whirling around in your stomach so intensely, you were beginning to think they were bees.  Your heart pounded in your ears, the tips of them becoming embarrassingly red and hot.  You didn’t know why, maybe it was the prospect of everyone else thinking you had some secret relationship going on or even a little fling and the fact that they seemed to be rooting for you.  It ignited the tiniest bit of excitement in you, you weren’t going to lie to yourself.  Even if there was truly nothing going on.

Within minutes, you had an entourage escorting you to your car, Nathan insisting that it was no issue if you’d rather him drive Eddie just in case he were to pass out again.  Though you were grateful, you didn’t see the trouble in making him drive all the way out to your street only to turn around and go right back to the party.  If Eddie passed out again, you’d splash some water on him and surely figure out a way to wake him.  Besides, he had started to become more alert since stumbling down the stairs and making the walk down the steep driveway.  Of course, you also required that he down some water before leaving, otherwise he could stay and let his friends have their fun and tease him about sleeping in front of the toilet, which he didn’t seem to like as he scrunched his face and grabbed the water from you.

Donnie had advised you to drive safely several times while Jett continued to poke fun at Eddie, only earning himself a sock to the shoulder.  Jett may not feel it now but in the morning there would be a good chance he’d have a nice purple bruise.  

At some point after you had stepped outside, a jacket was draped over your shivering shoulders.  Eddie’s jacket.  And seconds later, he walked ahead of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, no doubt trying to escape Jett’s teasing.  It was in that moment, surrounded by people who seemed to just…care, that you began to feel wanted.  While Donnie talked your ear off about keeping an eye out for deer, Nathan continuing to even offer to drive both of you home, assuring you that he didn’t mind in the slightest.  Eddie resting his jacket over your shoulders, even in his current state, and Jett…well Jett was being Jett but he still contributed to the warm and fuzzy feelings you were experiencing.  

It felt a lot like…family.

–

The cold glass soothes Eddie’s sweaty cheek, the surface fogging up with every breath as his finger taps away to a beat in his head on the center console.  The slumped position he had been in for the past five minutes was sure to awaken a few aches and pains in his spine but he didn’t budge.  The radio softly sounded through the car, some random pop song he could hardly make out.  His eyes followed tree after tree, nearly causing him to go cross-eyed as he kept up with the little game he made up in his head, counting each tree.  Sometimes he would get distracted by the pavement zooming by before continuing.

Not a word had been shared between you since the bathroom though it was an oddly comfortable silence.  It didn’t feel like you had to speak or fill in the gaps like you usually would, desperately clinging to words that you didn’t have in order to appease the other person.  The fact that Eddie was coming out of his drunken haze could have something to do with it but had it not been Eddie you were driving, you’re certain you would struggle to strike up a conversation as if it were required.

Glancing over at him, you can’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips, his fingers drawing a smiley face into the fog he created with his breath.  You’d never seen him so content but perhaps you shouldn’t look too much into it.  A few beers and some weed would have that effect on anyone.  It was just pleasant to see him so laid back, the stressors of his life set aside for another time.  You could only hope he could appear the same way sober someday soon.  

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know…”  You start to backtrack and although he was the one who initiated the conversation, maybe it was too bold of you to reverse the question.

“No, ‘s okay.”  He assures you, shaking his head, his curls flattening against the seat.

“You miss him?”

The car is silent again, aside from the radio playing quietly.  You fear you’ve said the wrong thing, struck some kind of a nerve that forced him to go mute.  No longer wanting to engage in the topic.  But when you peer over at him again briefly, he’s biting his lip, getting lost in his mind again before he decides on an answer.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  He visits when he can.”  A sadness lurks beneath the surface of his monotone response, eyes growing shinier in the moonlight.  And then he wipes the slate clean, face devoid of emotion once again as he seems to shake his previous thoughts from his head.  “So what’s your deal?  What made you come all the way out here?”  

This is the part where you would shrug and offer no further insight into the corners of your mind that usually were kept isolated.  But when his gaze softens from the passenger seat like that–like he wants to know, like he cares, you wanted to give him the key to your contaminated brain and let him poke around all he wanted.  As long as he wanted.

“Well, uh, I love my family...”  You start, voice timid.  “But I was feeling super lost.  And like I was living for everyone else.  And when my dad passed months ago he left me his estate…left me everything…”

“I’m sorry.”  He says, sympathy coating his words.

You nod, a silent thank you before continuing.

“So I split it up with my family…then moved away.  Guess I wanted to…I dunno find myself?”  You laugh, as if you’d just told a joke.

Rather than laugh along, Eddie studies you with intent.  Like he’s searching for more, digging into your soul.  

“Why’s that funny?”  He asks.

“I just–I don’t know what I’m doing.”  You laugh again.

“Well, neither do I.”  He begins to chuckle.  “I mean look at me.”

Progressively, you both start to laugh harder, glancing at each other and reveling in the failures that you both had endured up until this moment.  It’s like you were slap happy, a snort threatening to escape you through your uncontrollable laughter.  

“Ah, fuck.”  Eddie exhales, a grin plastered to his face.  “Bar is going to shit, my government hush money has run out–”

“Your what?”  You question, amusement taking over your features.

“Nothing.”  

Suddenly, he has no desire to converse, his lips shut in a tight line as he once again turns his attention to the window.  

“Government hush money?”  You repeat.

With a roll of his eyes and a deep breath, you can tell he contemplates carefully as he chooses his next words.  

“Jesus Christ, I’m really not supposed to talk about it.”  He breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “But, fuck it I guess.”  He drops his hand from his face.

Pulling into your driveway, the gravel crunches under the tires before you kill the engine, headlights leaving you in the darkness.  Eddie has your full focus, your body turned toward him as you pull a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on top.  

“You don’t have to.”  You assure.  “I can just forget you ever said anything–”

“Honestly, it’ll probably do me some good to get it off my chest.”  He interrupts.  

At his insistence, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.  He fidgets with his rings nervously, pulling them off and putting them back on.  

“You, uh, you have to swear to never talk about it again.  To anyone.”  

“Promise.”  You whisper, sticking your pinky out.

A puzzled look crosses his face, looking from your pinky to you in uncertainty.  It was becoming apparent that he was sobering up, laziness no longer taking a hold of his eyelids and words coherent.  

“Pinky promise.”  You smile.

“Pinky promise?”  He still appears confused.

“Yeah, you never made a pinky promise before?”  

A small smile forces the corners of his mouth up, eyes shining with entertainment as he stares at your pinky.  Shaking his head, he rests his hands in his lap, almost bashfully.  A contrast to his usual prickly tendencies and forward personality.

“Well, I take pinky promises very seriously.  They can’t be broken.  So I pinky promise, I won’t mention this ever again.”  You stick your hand even further forward, awaiting his pinky.

“Yeah?”  He asks with a lopsided grin.  “How do I know you mean that?” 

“It’s a pinky promise, Eddie.”  You deadpan, as if he was supposed to know how eternally binding it was.

A few seconds pass, Eddie still looking from you to your pinky with round eyes, soft at the edges with something that resembles the innocence of a little boy.  His inner child was sparkling, pouring from him like a forbidden fountain that only you had the honor of witnessing.  When his pinky wraps around yours, his comically larger than yours, you can’t fight the way your heart flutters in response to the touch.  His warmth encompassing yours, melting together like the sweetest chocolate.

Then, once your pinkies part, he speaks of a horrifying earthquake, striking his home town and wreaking havoc on the innocent lives once lived.  He tells you of things that you would never in this lifetime believe, things that he was forced to believe within seconds, creatures that attacked him, putting him on his deathbed only to be revived and put in the hospital for weeks.  Of the horrifying manhunt for him, how he was a wanted man for things he was never responsible for, conveniently at the peak of satanic panic.  How he was blamed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, how the whole town pinned a murder on him.  How there are things he could never even begin to explain like how Chrissy, the head cheerleader at his highschool had died right in front of him.  And how she was the first girl he was actually interested in, only for her to die a horrific death before his eyes.  He didn’t go into detail, though you didn’t need him to.  You didn’t want him to re-live such trauma just to provide you further explanation.

Once all was said and done, once he was out of the hospital, he was arrested and sat in jail for a week or so, he couldn’t recall exactly how long.  His uncle trying everything, doing everything he could to bail him out but he didn’t come from money so that proved to fail, especially since no one was on his side, even a majority of the police.  He told you of Dustin and Lucas…of Max, Erika, Steve, Nancy, and Robin.  The people that had always been on his side even when he was the only suspect for murder.  The people he missed so dearly every day but could only see every so often when they could find time to visit.  Which they did.  He only wished he could go back home.  If he did, it would only spark up another riot and it was against his agreement with the government to even step foot in the state of Indiana.  

So when he was bailed out of jail, his friends all awaiting him just outside the station, it was bittersweet.  He was relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck in that hell hole for the rest of his life like his dad but he was terrified of leaving everything he’d ever known.  It was his dream to someday get out of that place, a place that he wouldn’t name which was most likely due to his agreement.  But the second he was forced to leave, he didn’t know what was next for him, a terrifying concept for any smalltown boy at the fresh age of 20.

Wayne had intervened, making plans for Eddie to move in with his grandfather, Roy out in the middle of the mountains a few states away rather than being shipped somewhere where he had no connections, a setup for failure.  Eddie told you about how he didn’t know his grandpa his entire life, didn’t even know he still had one until he went to live with him.  But without any hesitation, Roy took him under his wing, stating that it's what his daughter, Eddie’s mother would’ve wanted him to do.  The least he could do for a boy who only knew broken family and lost his beloved mother so young.  

You learn that his grandfather had distanced himself due to Eddie’s dad and truthfully didn’t know of Eddie’s existence until Wayne made that phone call.  The moment he found out he had a grandson, he welcomed him with open arms and put him to work at the bar, giving him a kind of security that Eddie had never been familiar with in his life.  Grandpa Roy died last year of kidney failure, leaving Eddie everything and you could tell it was really taking a toll on him, the responsibility of the bar, the fear of losing it and disappointing his grandfather.

It seems that within the span of ten minutes, you learn Eddie’s life story.  From the incident back in Indiana to how his dad created destruction in his life long before that and how he would teach Eddie how to commit petty theft and hotwire cars.  He was on the route to becoming just like his dad before Wayne got involved, fighting like hell for legal custody of him.  His dad refused time and time again although Eddie spent most nights and days at Wayne’s trailer anyway.  Wayne didn’t want him to have any authority over Eddie, the man was a criminal and an addict that would leave poor young Eddie alone for days to fend for himself until he decided to come back.  He didn’t want that life for Eddie.

Eventually, he won, the courts taking far too long to review the case but he was granted full custody and not long after, Eddie’s dad was arrested for grand theft auto.  He still rots in jail to this day for several other crimes he committed once he got out the first time.

It was all laid out for you, Eddie’s entire upbringing.  His whole life on display for you to judge if you felt so inclined to.  You didn’t.  You sat and you processed.  Deciphering that Eddie is the way he is because of the way he had been treated his entire life.  An outcast among the working class, growing up in poverty and being made fun of for things out of his control.  Kids steering clear from him for the simple fact that he was his father’s son and that his name had already been tarnished before he was even born.  It was becoming clear as to why Eddie was so emotionally withdrawn.  How could he not be?

“Eddie I–” “If you say you’re sorry I’ll puke again.”  He jokes.

It was something you found so endearing within him, his ability to remain playful even when addressing his trauma.  Perhaps it was a coping mechanism.  You could relate if it was.  

“Let’s just, uh, call it a night.  I think that’s enough about me.  I don’t wanna talk about me anymore.”  He shakes his head, exhausted but still displaying a playful smile.

“Okay.  Yeah.”  You agree, opening the door before he stops you with a raise of his hand.

“Would this…would this be a bad time to tell you that I’m ninety nine percent sure that I left my keys at the party?”  He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wow.”  You sigh, resting your head on the steering wheel.  “Look at how the tables have turned.”  You grin, shoving his shoulder, eliciting a grunt from him.  

“Gonna make me sleep on the porch with the bears?”  He half jokes.  He wouldn’t blame you.

“Only if you don’t puke on me like I did to you.”

Eddie can’t fight his grin, dimples deepening.  He’s thankful that it’s too dark to make out the pink tinting his cheeks.

~end~

Masterlist

Prev | Next

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

[hellishjoel]

sunnyside cemetery

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter

summary: A ghost haunts the kitchen. Or does it? A spooky night at the cemetery forces your feelings for Frankie to come to a head. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, pet names, mentions of insecurity, smut, public sex (is it if everyone’s dead? maybe), oral (f! receiving), squirting, cum eating, a little angst at the end for flavor 

A/N: happy halloween!! thank you so SO much to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for her impeccable, unmatched knowledge of the inner workings of a kitchen and a diner/restaurant! Makes it so much more realistic.

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!**

“Oh- what the fuck, Christ, oooh Frankie,” you whimper loudly, grounding your heels into the dirt. You’re torn between running away from the feeling that is all too good, or staying, and enjoying your slice of heaven in this graveyard.  Your orgasm is running a fever inside you, making you hot, losing your thoughts. It’s different from anything you’ve ever felt. He’s- oh god.  “Frankie, you’re gonna make me,” you clench your eyes closed and whimper loudly, feeling him add more pressure to that perfect spot.  “Fucking squirt for me, baby,” Frankie’s devilishly deep tone sparks a shock to your core, causing you to cry out in a bliss of agony.

It’s a cold and dreary night. The diner is dead, not a living soul in sight. Booths settle with dust, unaccompanied by any guest for hours, even days. Yellow fluorescents flicker ominously overhead. The windows at the very front of the restaurant weep droplets that have been falling since dawn. 

The already weakly supported awning outside shuddered in the wind, attempting to protect the front door and any guests from the rainfall. The gusts made it nearly impossible to see out to the road.

Lou, the bus boy, was standing in the middle of the diner’s aisle, slowly mopping the same patterned circle over and over again while he listened to music playing through his earbuds. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

The loud disruption was enough to make Lou’s head pop up and turn from left to right.  He takes out an earbud to hear better. It was silent, lurking, the fluorescent light causing his head to ache. Maybe he was just hearing the awning squawk and bend to the will of the wind. 

Just as he sighed, about to put his earbud back in, he heard it again. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Okay, that time, he definitely heard something. A thin layer of sweat coats the back of Lou’s neck, moving with precision as he slowly creeps over the wet mop streaks he’s made and inches closer to where the noise originates.

Lou stops in the kitchen, the swinging door whooshing behind him. He peers through the pass, no one in sight. He sighs and shakes it off. There’s nothing here. But then again, just as he turns, a muffled bang! bang!

Lou’s breath is seized, stripped from his lungs as he stands frozen in fear, staring with unblinking eyes at the walk in. 

The door. It was pulsing. Snapping against its hinges, banging relentlessly in a horrific rhythm. It was a portal to hell! Lou was sure of it! 

He skitters away with shaky legs, gasping with fear as he flinches away from the monstrous thing. 

“Holy shit! The place is haunted!” The stick of the mop clatters to the floor, echoing through the diner as the lights flickered. Lou ran to his car and finished his shift early on Halloween night. 

The walk in door bangs a few more subtle times, leaking cloaked moans and grunts from what’s inside. It wooshes open, cold trickling into the kitchen. 

Frankie peaks his head out first. Checks left, then right. 

“We’re good.” He mutters, securing his belt and fixing his hat. 

You subtly clear your throat as you walk past him, retie the apron around your waist, and shake from the chill you got. The walk in was great for a quick makeout session, but nothing more. It was cramped as all hell. 

“We’re not doing it in there again.” You huff, goosebumps riddling your body as you watch Frankie haul meats from the bottom shelf, a dainty label with messy sharpie highlighting the date of preparation and expiration in his handwriting. 

“Hey,” he said with playful defense, “I had to get more burger meat, you followed me in there.” 

You shrug and stroke your thumb across the red bandana on his forehead.

“You liked it.” 

He scoffs playfully and nips at your uniform-covered shoulder as he walks past you with the meat. “Never said I didn’t, princess.” 

You walk back out onto the floor, noticing a wet trail leading to the mop, but no one attending it.  “Where the hell is Lou?”

You turn your head, share a look with Frankie through the pass, and shrug.

---

“This seems scary,” Tina whispers as she trails behind you on the side of the road. 

“It’s not that scary.” You try to push down the smile on your face as you lead your diner crew after a late night Tuesday shift to the local cemetery. The rain had paused, but the dark clouds still loomed. 

Tina, the new waitress, was nearly tripping over her feet in the dark, quietly squeaking her concerns to Paul. Paul stood about two feet above her and walked onwards like a subtle, silent giant. 

Rudy, the owner’s son, came along, too. He wasn’t exactly invited, but you suppose he was eager to be a part of something. He catches up to your side and keeps your pace, much to your dislike.

“So creepy out here tonight. You, uh, want me to hold your hand?” Rudy asked with a dingy smile, reaching for your hand that skittered away on its own. Rudy was relentless and a pig, it made you squirm.  

There were times during your shifts he would put his hand on your waist, play with the hem of your uniform’s skirt. You weren’t above spilling hot coffee on him to get him to back off, and there were times that Frankie would step in, but Rudy wasn’t an idiot. He started working his advances on you when Frankie had days off. You hadn’t told this to Frankie yet, you didn’t want him to get riled up over something as little as a creep with his hand up your skirt. You could take care of yourself. You just wish you didn’t have to. 

“Uhm-” You start to say awkwardly, shuffling your flashlight to the hand closest to Rudy's, making it seem unavailable. 

“I think she’s good.” Frankie’s protective voice barks from the back of the group, now weaving through the band of scared-to-death coworkers and walking protectively at your side. Like a strong, bold German Shepherd. 

Rudy is forced to make room for Frankie on the walkway, huffing quietly as he takes a back seat and slows his pace, letting you and Frankie lead the pack.

Your smile is bashful and appreciative as you keep walking. His knuckles brush against yours, but you stay looking forward. 

You had convinced the closing staff to come to Sunnyside Cemetery on Halloween, mainly to scare the shit out of them but also because you didn’t really have anything to do tonight. Well, besides Frankie, but you could do that any night of the week at this point. 

Things were casual, nothing more, despite how attractive he became instilling fear in Rudy for bothering you. Far enough ahead of the group and losing them in the fog, you lightly hook your pointer finger around his, holding it as you walk off the road’s path and into the tall, wet grass. 

“Why do they call it Sunnyside Cemetery? Kind of contradicting, don’t you think?” Tina squeaked until Paul stopped walking and looked down at her before he pointed across the road to Sunnyside Produce. 

“They were here first… the cemetery just went with the flow.” He said with a monotone register before he walked down the grassy hill, much to Tina’s panic-induced speech about going back. 

You sharply swiveled on your heel and pointed the flashlight at her. 

“There is no going back.” A crack of thunder and lightning followed your harrowing sentence. Damn, that was perfect fucking timing. Your eyes lit up to Frankie’s, and he looked just as impressed by your eeriness. 

Tina and Rudy whined but followed suit. Paul was just… Paul. 

“Did you see that? Did it make me ten times scarier?” You whispered to Frankie excitedly as your sneakers squished moss and snapped twigs below you. 

“Super scary, babe. Petrifying.” He said with his playboy smirk and dazzling eyes, even in the dark. 

---

Once you got to the graveyard, you walked along the perimeter, finding a low spot where the fence wasn’t as high. You touch the cold steel beams, black and scraped with years of being out in the elements. 

Frankie hops the fence and helps everyone else over. Besides Rudy. And besides Paul, because Paul was so tall, he practically just hurdled over it. Frankie tugs down your uniform when it snags around your upper thighs. You playfully smack him with your flashlight, watching as he shakes his head and smiles crookedly. 

You and the other misfits made it to the main part of the cemetery, where the original founders of the town were buried. You walk through a small cloister covered in old grey cobblestone and moss. Ivy wove around cold, wet columns. Birds squawked ominously in the trees above. 

“Okay,” you say as you weave through the different rows of headstones overgrown by tall grass with rotting flowers, humming curiously. “Let’s do this.” 

Ouija board, planchette, candles. Frankie hands you his lighter, and you shield the wind around the wick. 

“Woah,” Rudy said at the sight, quickly shaking his head as his hands fidgeted anxiously at his sides. “Didn’t sign up for no talkin’ board. Fuck no.” 

“Sit,” Frankie says with authority, everyone making a weak circle around the board at his command. 

Good boy, you think as you look at Frankie. 

The group played for as long as you all could, scaring them off one by one on purpose as you guided the planchette around the board with the so-called answers from the dead. 

Tina didn’t last past the first few rounds, eagerly asking Paul to walk her back to her car at the diner. Rudy took the opportunity to say he had to head out, leaving just you and Frankie by midnight. 

“Such an ass scaring them like that.” Frankie hummed, his cigarette smoke swirling around him with the gentle wind. 

“Oh, please.” You scoff as you reach your hand out for his cigarette, watching him share what was left. “You’re the one who made the piece move towards the word raise when Rudy asked the founders how to make the diner better. That’s a bit of emotional manipulation.” 

Frankie snuffs up a short laugh, fidgeting with his lighter as he relit a candle that had been blown out from the wind. Suddenly, the rest of the lit candles were blown away as well. It was creepy and made the both of you stop in your tracks. An owl hoots in the distance. You crane your head from left to right, all of a sudden not feeling very alone. 

“I’m cold.” You finally say, your legs covered in goosebumps as you shudder at the chill that swept through the graveyard. Fog was sprouting from deeper in the woods that crowded the south side of the cemetery. Perhaps it was karma for scaring off your co-workers, but this was too much, even for you. 

Frankie seems unbothered, taking his cigarette back since you were too occupied to enjoy it. 

“S’just the wind. No real ghosts.”

You huff and shove at his shoulder as you move to sit on your knees. 

“I know there’s no fucking ghosts, asshole.” You say with confidence before flinching hard and hiding your face in Frankie’s shoulder as a bird flapping its wings around the corner makes you cower for a second. You groan in embarrassment as Frankie locks his arm around your waist. 

“Scared?” He sneers, flicking his cigarette butt away.

“M’not scared.” Your elbow juts into his ribs, and he releases you. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ right.” Frankie scoffs as he watches you collect the items on the grass, shoving them into your backpack in a scatterbrained scurry. It always made you ill when Frankie had the upper hand like he did right now. Made a pit in your stomach. 

Frankie could sense your fear, like a shark in the water. But rather than scare the shit out of you, like he knew he could, he decided to lighten the conversation. 

“Graveyards don’t necessarily have to be scary, you know.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek and settle down beside him. 

“A place littered with people’s rotting bones and corpses? That shit is scary, Frankie.” You correct, but he just shakes his head, smiles, and observes the mismatched gravestones. 

“Not really, if you think about it. Lots of couples choose to be buried side by side or even together in the same grave as a sign of eternal love.  There are lots of stories from medieval literature about lovers who took a lover’s leap off a cliff or a high place to be with their soulmate in the afterlife so they wouldn’t have to spend another second apart in different universes. People even have weddings in graveyards. There’s lots of good about life and death here.” 

Frankie’s eyes droop. 

“I don’t think people fear graveyards, or churches, or hospitals, I think they just… fear death.” 

Something changes in Frankie’s face, a sadness of sorts. Like he knew a lover that was lost in another universe. Curiosity sparks you, gently bringing your fingers up to graze over the stubble on his cheek with your thumb. 

“Well,” you whisper in your close proximity, climbing onto his lap. “I don’t fear death. I fear what’s after death. No one knows what’s next, not even you, old wise one.” 

Frankie cracks his signature smile and rolls his eyes, pecking your lips and gently tugging on your lower one as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

“You think if I go down on you in this graveyard, any wild spirits will inhabit your pussy?”

You throw back your head and laugh, tugging him to the ground as you lay on your back and hike up your uniform. 

“God, I hope not. If you die, you better not haunt my pussy.”

Frankie smirks as he spreads your legs and levels his chest to the ground, kissing and nipping at the inside of your thighs with impatience. “Can’t make any promises, baby.”  Pulling your panties to the side, he ducks his head lower to your core. The brim of his hat nudges against your stomach, you watch as it falls discarded to the side on its own as his face sinks over your warm heat. 

You hum as his warm body relaxes yours, shuddering lightly as your sticky core becomes exposed to the outside world. Fingers wind into dark chocolate locks, his beard lightly scratches at the inside of your thighs. 

“I’m going to taste like work sweat,” you murmur awkwardly, coming to terms with the fact that you worked a full shift without showering yet. 

He scoffs, nearly offended, before he flattens his tongue and licks a slow swipe up from your weeping hole to your clit. His tongue parts you and circles around your anxious nub of nerves. You whimper as you fist his waves, fluttering your eyes that were previously taking in the night sky. 

“Like tasting you like this,” he murmurs, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you spread. “So fuckin’ juicy.” He says greedily, yanking you towards him as a gasp leaves your parted lips. 

Your stomach twists as he fully envelops you with his mouth, marking his territory with his tongue and spit as he suckles on your clit. 

“Fuck- oh my god,” you murmur into the night air. You’re too rowdy to lay still. Especially when his tongue starts darting in and out of your entrance, massaging your tight walls as he goes. You whimper as you sit up on your elbows and watch the master at work, in awe of his devotion to you. More appropriately,  to your pussy. 

“This isn’t so scary anymore,” you say between panting breaths. “I-I’m looking at the stars, and you’re eating me out in the moonlight- fuck,” your chin tilts up to the sky, feeling your stomach contort with pleasure. 

“I know,” he mutters, “kinda romantic.”

“Shut up, Frankie.” You groan as you shove him back to your center, where he shares a breathy laugh between you and your core. 

You feel a coil tighten in your abdomen, and you hate to admit it, but he’s given you the best head you’ve ever received. No one makes you cum like he does, and never as hard. It’s Earth-shattering, rousing you, making your heart race.  

Frankie pulls his mouth off to slick up two of his fingers through your folds, dripping with arousal. He elicits a whimper from you as he lightly nudges his fingertips against your clit in the process. A muscle behind his jaw twitches as he inches two fingers into your warmth, feeling your walls stretch to allow the intrusion. 

All you can think about is how his heavy cock is resting against his thigh, but he had no intention of using it. He was much more determined to make you feel good. The thought makes you melt into the ground, into his touch, into his blind kindness. 

You feel awfully close as Frankie starts massaging your walls, but you feel this odd ball of anxiety start to fester in your womb. You’re no longer relaxing. Like a cascade down your body, it shows. Your head twitches, and your jaw closes. Your chest grows tight, as does your stomach. Suddenly, your thighs are closing around his head, and not in a fun way. You whimper quietly and loosen the fingers in his hair. 

Frankie’s eyes flick up, slowing his movements and pulling his mouth off your clit. You tip your head down, and confusion crosses over his features. Knit eyebrows, parted lips covered in your arousal. His hold on your thighs loosens, you bite your lip and let out a shaky breath as you look at the moon. 

“Hey,” Frankie says softly as he moves to his knees, and you clamber to sit up on your elbows. 

“I’m sorry,” you gush awkwardly, closing your eyes and putting one of your hands over your face in embarrassment. “I just- sometimes I can’t finish, I get this weird feeling like someone shined a fucking spotlight on us, and now I can’t- I’m sorry,” you rush breathily, feeling slightly like an ugly monster below him. You smelled like work, and the thought never left your head. You probably tasted like gross sweat and smelled horrid. Even if it wasn’t true, that’s how you felt. 

Frankie speaks your name, his silken southern drawl slowing your heart rate as you unshield your face. You felt warmth coursing through your body, your legs still closing at the slightest. 

“What’s goin’ on? You can talk to me.” Frankie’s never seen you in the slightest self-conscious. At work, you’re always bustling with an attitude and playfulness. This was different, he could sense the shift from your body language alone. 

You sigh and give in, feeling his large hand come to rest over your knee and rub soothing motions into your thigh. 

“M’..” you sigh and roll your eyes, opting to shift your focus to the gravestones. “M’worried I don’t taste good.” You mumble. 

Frankie slowly smiles at you, which, for whatever reason, sort of pisses you off. 

You fight the urge to sit up fully and push your uniform down. “See? I knew I did, just-”

“No, no,” he said with more authority, taking one of your hands and interlocking his fingers with yours. “You don’t. I just wasn’t expectin’ you to say that.” 

You frown, which he hates to admit is fucking adorable on you. That little pout of yours. 

“What do you mean?” 

Frankie fights off a scoff and rolls his eyes a little. “It’s just that every time I’ve gone down on you, it’s after work. I like how you taste no matter what.” 

Shyness creeps up the back of your neck, and you fight off a smile. You didn’t realize that he was right. He’s gone down on you thrice now, each time was either during or after work. He clears his throat and continues. 

“I like how you taste after work. Right after a shower, there’s no… zest. I’m explaining in cooking terms because that’s what I understand.” 

You stifle a giggle and let him go on. 

“Work is like your seasoning. I’m sure you taste good all the time, but I like it best right now. I like it because it’s you.” 

Your chest swells at his words, you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big. There’s that weird feeling in your heart again. The weird one you get when you’re with Frankie, and he talks like that. You sigh quietly and clutch the grass at your sides, anxiously fiddling with it and twirling it around your fingers. 

“How did I taste after you went down on me in my truck after our shift?” He raises a fair point, cocking his eyebrow as his fingers cascade down the inside of your thigh again, and you slowly part your legs. 

“I liked it. A lot.” You whisper with a smile, to which he graciously returns. 

“I liked it, too.” Frankie sneers at you, forcing you to roll your eyes in return. “Can I try one more time? Want you to feel good. Wanna swallow your cum, baby.”  His words are absolute filth. You’re not sure if you have it in you to speak, so you nod in a haze. 

“Lemme hear you say it, princess. Tell me like a good girl.” 

Your stomach swells, and you force out a weak sigh, already falling into a gentle lull as his fingers coast around your thighs, but not where you desperately need him. 

“Fuck you.” You say with fire. He sees it in your eyes, he fucking loves it. “Touch me, Frankie. Please.” 

That’s his girl. The one he knows. 

“Lie back, baby girl. Let me take care of you.”

You shyly smile and find the ground again, head to the grass as you close your eyes, and he returns with a new vote of confidence. So do you. 

Frankie moves to lie down on his stomach, you part your legs enough for his head. You take in a sharp breath as he touches your still desperate bundle of nerves. You swallow the lump in your throat. He kisses your clit delicately, and you already struggle to breathe. He focuses solely on your clit with long, beautiful strokes from his tongue that massage you into a dreamy state of mind. He’s delicate. 

Now you’re really off to the races. 

Your back lightly arches as he does sweet circles around your anxious clit, feeling that coil once again tighten in your abdomen. His hand moves to hike up your uniform once more, unveiling your tummy to the nighttime air. You’re sure you should be freezing cold right now, but all you can feel is an inferno at the center of your core. His fingers gently nudge once more at your entrance, his eyes flicking to yours for consent. You quickly nod but then remember his little rule. 

“Y-Yes, please,” you whimper. 

He reenters and pumps his fingers a few times to allow your walls to relax, humming softly in appreciation. Then he fucking curls them inside of you. You gasp as the tips of his fingers find your spongy spot, and it feels like a bolt of lightning strikes your core. 

“Holy fuck,” you whimper, which only fuels Frankie. 

“Here?” You don’t even think he has to ask because you’re breathless. He settles for your chaotic nods and the way your fingers desperately move from clutching the grass to his chocolate locks. 

His other hand snakes around your thigh and uses your exposed stomach to his advantage. Or maybe it's yours. You’re not really sure what he’s doing, adding pressure in different spots to your lower abdomen. Then it clicks. 

Your breath is robbed from your lungs, and you rut your hips against his fingers, grinding desperately to stay right in that spot. This new friction was driving you mad, running you up a wall, and causing a gush of arousal to flood over his fingers. 

“Oh- what the fuck, Christ, oooh Frankie,” you whimper loudly, grounding your heels into the dirt. You’re torn between running away from the feeling that is all too good, or staying, and enjoying your slice of heaven in this graveyard. 

Your orgasm is running a fever inside you, making you hot, losing your thoughts. It’s different from anything you’ve ever felt. He’s- oh god. 

“Frankie, you’re gonna make me,” you clench your eyes closed and whimper loudly, feeling him add more pressure to that perfect spot. 

“Fucking squirt for me, baby,” Frankie’s devilishly deep tone sparks a shock to your core, causing you to cry out in a bliss of agony. A harsh wave starts to form, crashing over your entire body with only seconds left. This was it. You could either run away, put the distance between you and Frankie for good, call it coworkers, and nothing more. Or let this feeling bind you to something more. 

Panic rises in you, but you don’t have time to act on it. 

All the tension in your body and the thoughts in your head disappear into euphoria. With a sharp gasp, your back arches, and you just… spill. It almost felt like you had to pee, but you knew it wasn’t exactly the same. You burst like a broken pipe. Your heart rate is through the roof. It makes you lose your hearing, and everything sounds muffled. 

“Frankie!” You moan out, feeling your thighs tremble around his head as you soak him. But he’s not stopping, like he wasn’t fucking done with you. He’s still chasing your orgasm, which arrives shortly after he suckles on your clit. You’re still too shaky to fully register what has happened to you. 

Frankie hums in satisfaction, lapping up your cum-squirt mixture. You’re so sensitive, you can feel your heels lazily dig into the ground to try and move away, and the fingers you have knotted in his hair are ripping him away from his treat. 

“Please,” he grunts, “lemme finish, taste so goddamn perfect.” You shyly grin at the moon and settle, letting him lap up the mess he’s made of you with a blush hot on your neck. 

Your vision is stars, a hazy feeling corrupting your brain. You’ve just fully collapsed in front of him, you’re not sure how he expects you to walk back to the diner after this. 

Frankie puts your panties back into place once he’s had his fair share of you, pulling your uniform down and opting to lay beside you. The two of you stare at the stars as you relax on the grass once more. Frankie wraps an arm around your shoulders and lets you curl into his side. 

“That was…” you try to piece together any sort of sentence to let him know it was good. Better than good, it was fucking incredible. 

“I know.” He says with his signature goading attitude. You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s smirking. So you punch his stomach lightly and smile into his pec. 

“You’re an ass.” 

“I know that, too.” He kisses the crown of your head, and you settle on watching the stars. 

They look like a cloudy mess to you at first. A jumble of the universe loosely tossed into the sky with no regard. It makes you feel small and pointless. There’s an entire world out there, but when everyone looks up, we all see the same. A disarray of stars and the moon. 

You wonder what he sees, what he thinks. His shirt smells of pine and cigarettes. His cologne-sweat mixture creates a tingle in your chest. You’ve seen so much of him, more than you ever did before in the years of working together. You know he likes to cook, and he’s damn good at it too, plays jazz on vinyl, smokes Marlboro Gold cigarettes, likes the car freshener that looks like a little tree, and he likes you.

It’s a fact, not a matter of opinion. He looks at you like you put those stars in the sky. Not God or whoever created the universe. You. And it was fucking frightening to know someone cared about you like that. 

There’s that horrid feeling again, squeezing at your heart. 

“I want to get out of here.” You whisper with uncertainty. Rain clouds start to take away the night sky once more, a signal to flee before the droplets become a downpour. 

“Okay. We can pack up our stuff and head out-.”

“No,” you interject, turning your head to look up at him, your feet weakly finding the ground and dragging the zipper along your backpack until it was shut. “You can stay if you want, I need to get home.” 

Frankie scoffs incredulously and sits up anyway, making you more annoyed. 

“M’not just gonna let you go off alone in the middle of the night. What are you, a fuckin’ lunatic?”

Anger bubbles in your chest as you make your way to the fence. “Oh, fuck off, Frankie.” You curse as your sneakers crunch twigs and fallen orange leaves. 

“Okay, hot shot, calm the fuck down.” He says with anger laced in his voice. Good. He finally sees you as Miss Not So Perfect. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” He asks as he follows you nonetheless, his long legs carrying him at a much faster pace, catching up to you in no time at all. 

“I’m going home, and you’re not coming with me.” You say as your short height meets the fence, stopping you in your tracks. Well, fuck. 

You take in a deep breath through your nose, turning to Frankie, who has an eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed like a smug bastard. 

“Well, go right on ahead. M’not stoppin’ you.” 

No, you’re not, but this stupid fence is.

You pout and look from side to side, trying to find a way around this. A way around him. By the time you glance back at his face, his expression has melted from anger to sadness. You felt like you had just kicked a fucking puppy.  

You can see it in his eyes. He’s asking himself, what did I do? What the hell happened back there? 

There’s no time to think or care about how he feels; the wind is whipping your hair around, and the leaves dance around your ankles.  

There’s a gap in the fence that you end up using. Frankie trails behind you the entire way back to the diner, but he doesn’t speak to you. You feel like you might throw up, the ups and downs of tonight were giving you the spins. 

You arrive at the diner’s dreary parking lot, and only your beater car and Frankie’s rusted truck are parked side by side. You push your tongue against your cheek as you fiddle with your keys, trying to unlock your car door. You think rain lands on your cheek. You quickly wipe it away and feel its warmth, realizing it’s a tear. 

Frankie waits by his tailgate, arms crossed, a walled-up expression on his face as he watches you struggle. Despite you pissing him off, he watches you like that damn German Shepherd again, making sure you get into your car and no one bothers you. You finally stab the right key into the door and yank it open, standing at the entrance. You swivel on your heel and glare at him. 

“What do you want from me, huh?” You ask, the dead of silence filling your ears and polluting the distance between you two with tension. “I asked you a question.” 

“I don’t know.” He grumbles. A muscle behind his jaw twitches as you near closer. 

“Bull-fucking-shit, Frankie. I don’t know if you want a fuck buddy, a girlfriend, whatever it is, we’re keeping it casual, and that’s it. Or maybe nothing at all would be better.” You say defensively, crossing your own arms and mirroring his body language. 

“Did I give you the wrong impression that I wanted you to be my girlfriend? Did I ever even  fuckin’ ask you to be my person?” 

You scoff and feel a scraping in your stomach. No. 

“No,” he continues with your silence, “So why are you acting like I want something more from you?” 

The silence settles as rain pelts the top of your head. Pain is laced on your face, feeling exposed. 

“You don’t?” You meekly ask, trying to make your face strong when all you want to do is crumble. 

He hesitates but ultimately shakes his head and shrugs. Hurt crashes into your chest, you feel like you’re in that horrible dream where you’re endlessly falling, unable to wake up. 

“No.” He finally says again. He looks off to the highway, listening to the gentle humming of cars passing in the distance. 

You can’t put into words how you’re feeling. Confusion the most of all. You could have sworn that he… You thought that maybe he… No. He said no, he didn’t want anything more from you. He didn’t see you like that, like someone he wanted to be with permanently, he saw you as an opportunity. You can’t deny you saw the same one. 

So, fine. The line in the sand had been drawn with anger and self-loathing. 

“Good.” You finally muster up, shrugging casually and returning to your car. “M’glad we’re on the same page.” 

Frankie finds comfort in staring at the cold, wet ground. "Yeah. Yeah, me too, princess.” 

Your lip snarls as you slam your door loudly and peel out of the parking lot.

All you could think about was how you broke your rules for him, went against your better judgment, and fooled around with him anyway. Maybe a little part of you was looking for something out of Frankie, but you stopped everything in its tracks to save yourself from this stupid feeling of opening up to someone again. You ruined it. You chucked what could have been into the dumpster out of fear of the unknown. 

Despite leaving him in your rearview mirror, that feeling in your heart still squeezes, maybe even harder now. And it hurts far worse than anything you could have imagined. 

---

here's my masterlist!

follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update!

[mrcformoso]

Spooky month got me thinking of a WangXian Addam's Family AU

(Feel free to use this prompt and tag me in your stories, or I may write this story, myself, after all my other ones!)

Lan Jingyi has always been considered a strange child. After a very bad argument with his family, he gets lost in the woods where he finds Wen Sizhui, the even weirder boy in his class who claims that he could see ghosts and talk to them. Sizhui leads Jingyi to his house, a giant manor on top of a graveyard, where he meets the family.

His adopted father/mother/other Wei Ying, the family patriarch/matriarch/bitriarch (depending on his/her/their mood for the day) who breeds and raises their garden of carnivorous, venomous, and beautiful plants.

Lan Zhan, their loving husband and Jingyi's estranged and distant uncle, who composes music that makes the house morph and change from the inside, and can have other effects such as changing the weather or putting ghosts to rest.

(And yes, they are as shameless and as in love as Gomez and Morticia. I would love to write them with the vibes of those two)

Sizhui's Aunti Wen Qing, who is a mad scientist and doctor, constantly making potions and inventions when she's not taking care of random cuts and bruises of her family.

Sizhui's zombie-but-not-a-zombie Uncle Wen Ning, who loves being helpful around the house and could casually carry gigantic trees and rocks with his strenth alone. He also loves sitting with the house bunnies.

Chenqing, a disembodied hand that assists Wei Ying in all matters and somehow manages to communicate despite being...a disembodied hand.

Wangji, Lan Zhan's guqin that changes into the form of a quiet yet scarily competent human buttler when Lan Zhan's not composing or playing.

And Bichen and Suibian, the two house bunnies that seemed to never age, and are always found together. Sizhui suspects they have a telepathic connection to his parents, because they act more like spies than pets sometimes.

Jingyi slowly finds his way home in this kooky and kinda spooky family, that loves his loud strangeness and accepts all of who he is.

And if he falls in love with Sizhui along the way? That's a plus.

[cabinofimagines]

A Graveyard Smash

and here is the last one of the year! Hope you guys enjoyed our shorter but still there Halloween fics :) Pairing: Platonic the seven + a bunch of other ones x reader Word count: 2k Warnings: none! -Asnyox < prev.

You didn’t know what to expect from the grove as a party destination, yet you were slightly blown away. You noticed how most of the decorations were themed around the destruction of nature- pollution was replicated by snack stashes for the satyrs (and perhaps some fauns from Camp Jupiter, you were certain you saw Don somewhere sneaking around), there were red and yellow lights all around, simulating fire and there were many skeletons (which, given how Nico had immediately left after the group call two days ago, probably was courtesy of him). You didn’t know how to feel about the possible real skeletons laying around, so you opted to ignore the possibility of Nico summoning them. 

However, you also saw that Meg and her siblings had deemed that to be a rather serious theme to decorate in, so here and there you found some more, handcrafted of reusable materials, generic halloween decorations. Except for carved pumpkins. There were so many pumpkins, but they were all uncarved. You guessed they didn’t want to show actual body horror to the dryads. There was some old-timey Halloween music playing, although you were unable to find any speakers. Guess the trees to really speak to you if you listen.  

As you saw Leo and Jason’s costumes you just knew that Leo had bribed Meg to know what the theme of the party would be like. He must have, why else would he think of these costumes? You had to admit, you didn’t know Leo owned a hat this tall, but you didn’t put it above him to have crafted it himself. 

“I don’t think the Onceler’s hat was that big?”  You walked up to the duo, “Or the Lorax’s mustache that big.”  

“I am lucky to not have to deal with the orange paint,”. Jason grimaced. Leo elbowed him. 

“Say the line Jason!”  Leo whispered, loudly. Jason sighed and deadpanned. 

“I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees!”  Jason tried to make a more spooky sound at the end of the sentence, after which Leo jumped forward, borderline belting.

“How ba-a-a-ad can I be?” Leo’s ‘be’ ended, somehow, on a S-tone so it rhymed with Jason’s phrase. He was grinning proudly. Jason tried to hide it, but he did seem to get amusement out of his friends' behavior. You laughed. 

“Jace, I have to be honest with you,” you looked at your friend, “I had a bet with Nico that you would be a tree. Will won though, he guessed the Lorax.”  

“You had a bet?”  Jason shook his head, “Let me guess, you do have a spare tree costume and want me to put it on so you win?”  You laughed again. 

“I wish,” you turned to Leo, “How is your hat staying up when it’s this tall?”  

“Support beams made out of metal rods and foam!”  Leo’s eyes sparkled, “carton in between, I can show you after the party, I swear it’s so structurally sound. Annabeth would love to know the skeleton of. this hat.”  Leo pouted,“ It’s too bad she has been so busy with school lately, she would have loved to work on this thing together.”   

“Everyone was suffering under me indeed,” you sighed dramatically, intentionally showing off your outfit. 

“Wait, you’re-“ Jason got up real close to one of your sleeves, “That’s my English essay! How the fuck did you get your hands on that!” Jason shivered, “I still haven’t heard back from it, I sure hope I passed.”  

“I shalt not say, dear Grace, whether you passed or not,”. You smiled, “However, I have my sources and thankfully an amazing artist who hand copied all of your work.” 

“Luckily I do not have anything on here,” Leo laughed, “Dying was the best decision for that.”

  —- 

You found two sheet ghosts with cowboy hats a bit further out, talking to each other. 

“But you’re so cute though!” Hazel exclaimed, “I’m sure Nico meant no harm.”  

“I know it was just weird seeing that.”  Frank sighed, “Hedge seemed really happy though.”  

“Boo!”  You yelled and the pair jumped up. After a second Frank leaned back. You couldn’t see his face underneath the sheet, but you figured he looked upset. 

“That’s our line (Y/n)!”  He faked exasperation. 

“Yeah! We’re the cow-boos after all!”  Hazel snickered while saying her phrase. 

“Cow-boo? Oh- I get it,”. You smiled, “Yeah that is funny.” 

“It doesn’t seem like that when you say that,”. Hazel sighed, “Well, what are you then?” 

“Oh, for you I have my left leg,”. You smiled deviously, “Praetor's have a lot of paperwork after all.” You held out your leg. Frank and Hazel moved their eye holes to see more clearly as they bowed down to take a look.

“Uh Frank,” Hazel hesitated, “I think we forgot something.” Hazel pointed at your knee, “I did not fill out this document which we had to hand in yesterday.” 

“I did uh, I did not either.”  

“Fuck” they said in unision. 

“Also how did you get these?” Hazel sounded panicked, “These are classified documents!” You laughed.

“Look, most of my costume is deadlines,” you added a spooky ‘ooooooohhhhhh’ to the last word, “but for you two I also choose to be a security breach. I can give you the name of the one who gave Calypso the files.” 

“That would be great.” Frank said, “Uh, Hazel, maybe we should quickly IM someone at Camp Jupiter about the deadlines we missed.”  

“Yeah, also (Y/n) you better hide your legs or we will steal your pants.” Hazel glared at you. You slowly backed away. 

“How about dinner first?” You joked, as you ran for it. 

——

You quickly weaved around the crowd, trying your best to get away from Hazel and Frank. You stumbled into what seemed to be the heart of a gathering. On one side of the circle you had Rock, Paper and Scissors. On the other side you had The Argo II, together with the seven demigod heroes who defeated Gaea. 

Except that Will was just standing on the side. You joined him quietly. 

“This was Nico’s plan?” You asked him and he sighed, 

“Yes and he stood on me being Percy.”  Will looked at you, “As if he wanted to rub in that Percy was his first crush.” 

“You look nothing like Percy though,” You laughed, “You’re blonde.”  

“Nico wanted to force me to wear a wig,” Will shook his head, “I opposed him, wigs are itchy.” Will smiled softly, “Although the Cocoa Puffs are adorable, and it warms my heart to see Hedge in his element like this.” 

“I look nothing like Will!” Percy’s voice sounded loudly. He seemed offended, “At least Frank looks really cute.”  Percy pouted. One particular Cocoa Puff puffed out their chest in pride. Nico stood in the middle of it all, dressed at what you assumed to be a Reyna costume, as Reyna stood next to him, dressed in Nico’s clothes. Nico could hardly stop smiling at the reactions to the Cocoa Puffs. You were about to ask Will something when

 “BAM!” Hege yelled as he hit you from behind with a blow-up bat, “YOU JUST GOT ARGO’ED!” 

“Amazing,” you looked Hedge up and down. He was wearing a boat around his middle, and on his head was a … Festus Hat? Hedge looked like an excited child. 

“Whatcha think, huh? Valdez even delivered on the hat!” Hedge let out an excited bleat, “Although it was all the kids idea,” he pointed at Nico, “I’m really happy to be included though! It’s been a while since all my cupcakes were in the same spot with me! And now I even got two batches! OH! I see Zhang over there, gotta hit him too!” And Hedge ran off. 

After a moment of silence Will and you locked eyes, and both started laughing. 

“He’s having a blast,” Will smiled, “Nico was right to get Hedge involved. How’s the scaring going?” Will turned to you. 

“Hazel and Frank are panicking about some forms they forgot and the security breach,” You grinned devilishly, “Jason is just mostly disappointed, and I still have to show the Rock, Paper Scissors trio my outfit.” 

—

Annabeth hated your outfit. Whether it was the fact that you got her only failing grade paper on the back, or the fact that she did not want to think about the last minute mistakes she made in two of the other papers she would not tell you. However, she did say she would find Leo to, and you quote, ‘definitely not set fire to your costume and ruin Calypso’s hard work’. Percy held in his laughter until Annabeth was out of earshot. 

“So where’s my work?” Percy eagerly looked around your jacket, and you pointed him towards  the sleeve. 

“Sally was eager to give it to me, she seems proud of your grades, even if they aren’t that high.” you said, and Percy had a bit of an embarrassed blush on his face. 

“Whenever I get a passing grade she keeps it,” Percy explained, “to remind me what I am capable of.” He was still inspecting your arm, but suddenly stopped, “Wait, is this- I wrote this when I was 7!” he was now a mess, “Please don’t tell me you read it.”

“I did, Percy.” you cackled crazily for a moment, “Percy Jackson or should I say Aqualad!  I am your embarrassing past!” Percy glared at you. 

“Just because I wrote a Aquaman and Little Mermaid crossover does not mean I wanted to BE aqualad (Y/n).” 

“I think it does,” Piper spoke up, “Also I appreciate the effort but I will not be looking for my work, thanks.”

“Aw, Pipes, come on,” you begged her but she shook her head. 

“Deadlines cannot be scary unless you face them, so I am procrastinating.”

“Unfair!” you glared at her, “Piper Mclean I will come for you! You can run, but deadlines always catch up to you!” 

After a moment of silence all three of you laughed. 

Your moment was interrupted by Meg calling for attention. She was dressed as Gollum, while Apollo stood next to her in a Frodo outfit. A bit further in the back stood who you guessed to be Grover from the satyr legs, dressed as Gandalf. 

“It is time to announce the winners of tonight's costume contest!” she yelled, and everyone cheered, “We have seen many amazing costumes, but one duo certainly blew us away.”

Percy, who still stood next to you, breathed out a soft ‘dam’.

“What? You really thought you would win with ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’?” you whispered and he just looked at you.

“I could dream okay?”

“Please come forth!” Meg paused, “Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus!” After a moment, filled with cheers, Calypso and Thalia took the stage looking absolutely stunning and creepy. Calypso was dressed as Harrowhark, with intricate face paint and basically wearing a skeleton around herself. Thalia was Gideon, with more shabby facepaint, the iconic sunglasses and with a six feet claymore on her back. They both bowed, looking up smiling. 

“By my rules,” Meg continued after a moment, “You get to decide where to host next year, so where will it be?” 

Thalia and Calypso looked at each other and Thalia shrugged, “I don’t know where I will be with the hunt, so it’s up to you Calypso.” Calypso looked a bit panicked, before taking a deep breath. 

“I guess it will be at the Waystation then!” she announced, and there were loud cheers from the crowd. 

As the party resumed, you hoped Calypso would be earlier with the invitations than Meg had been. After all, working with deadlines was pretty scary.

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

Bsd ships as seasons

Fyolai is the cold cruel winter. Everything is grey and white and somewhere there is still some gold and silver left from the Christmas decorations. It's dark yet beautiful. It's intimidating and cruel yet hauntingly beautiful and quiet. It's either isolation or being together with a person close to you while being stuck together bc of icy streets and snow. It's sitting together quietly reading and drinking hot drinks while it's snowing outside. It's sad and elegant. It's the deadly beauty of icicles and snow storms. It's finding comfort in the darkest moments. It's finding warmth in the cold. It's all consuming. It's powerful. It's the pain of the cold. It's a silver dagger lying in the snow. It's dancing in a empty cold ballroom. It's grey and white. It's classic and dark music.

Montcott is the spring. The spring on the county side. It's young love. It's soft. It's beautiful. It's comforting. It's the sun melting away the last leftovers of the harsh winter. It's the sweet smell of the early flowers. It's the happiness of seeing the first animals, the first leaves and the first flowers again. It's pastel colors and flowers. It's flowy dresses paired with warm wool vests. It's straw baskets filled with flowers. It's making each other flower crowns and sharing shy sweet kisses. It's the mild warm temperatures. It's the love that fills the air.

Soukoku is the summer. It's extreme temperatures/emotions. It's filled with passion. It's the extreme heat. It's the melancholic summer sunsets. It's the lonely summer sadness aswell as the summer love drama. It's the feeling of the stinging/harsh warmth which is filling your throat after taking a big sip of wine while looking at the sunset. It's passionate kisses or make out sessions in the evening about neither of them will talk again. It's messy.

The perfect crime trio is the autumn. It's a grey, cold, gloomy and foggy autumn day on which you wear thick brown wool sweaters. It's muted brown, beige and orange. It's the smell and taste of coffee. It's scarecrows and crows sitting around. It's wearing thick wool socks and cuddling under thick blankets while watching old detective movies in autumn. It's reading a old book with coffee and candle light on a rainy day. It's og Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson walking fast through the cold streets in London. It's eating the sweets on Halloween. It's these dark academia pictures with a old ancient big university on a cold grey autumn day with trees next to it which are filled with orange golden leaves. It's solving mystery cases. It's a cozy mansion with only one or two haunted looking objects. It's meeting in a cozy Café to drink coffee with whipped cream, warming up after entering the Café and reading old detective novels while watching the leaves fall from the trees. It's fancy warm suits and dress shoes. It's running through creepy fields while holding hands with your loved one. It's craving pumpkins together. It's the melancholy of things passing by and changing. It's the special magic of the season. It's old and cozy yet a bit haunted and filled with mystery. It's the comfort of the warm colors and the feeling of warm thick fancy clothes protecting you against the cold.

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

Bonus:

Ranpoe is nostalgic Halloween. It's old music about monsters. It's hauntingly beautiful. It's a ton of sweets. It's old graveyards. It's orange leaves falling from the trees. It's ghost stories. It's wearing thick wool socks while eating sweets between all the creepy decorations. It's solving unsolved cases. It's staying together solving mysteries. It's craving pumpkins. It's dancing to old fashioned music. It's orange, brown, beige, grey and black. It's sharing sweet tasting kisses. It's watching old black and white creepy movies or detective movies after collecting sweets while cuddling under thick wool blankets on the couch. It's reading old spooky mystery novels together. It's a scared and a oblivious person hunting ghosts and murderers. It's both persons getting spooked by an animal running over the street in the dark. It's cold, gloomy and yet warm due to the golden leaves. It's meeting up for dressing up and collecting sweets together while holding hands. It's pumpkin heads and old music. It's old creepy elegant mansions and figures with crows. It's goofy looking monster figures. It's hearing creepy music from a unknown place. It's black cats and old horror movies.

Bram/Lovecraft is Christmas. It's elegant and magnificent. It's gold, silver and deep red. It's cold snow and warm houses. It's the deep sadness and strong grieving because of lost family members and broken or one sided love. It's cuddling and kissing on the couch under a thick red blanket in the living room and admiring the Christmas tree. It's the dark outside of the house. It's the nostalgia and the slight sadness. It's old fashioned baked sweets. It's decorating the Christmas tree together. It's the old stories with miracles. It's the wonders which happen. It's writing melancholic letters to the one you love. It's thick warm coats and clothes. It's classical music playing. It's either sad painful isolation or sheer love and happiness. It's feeling warm on the inside and in the heart even tho you're physically freezing. It's all the overwhelming beautiful decoration. It's festive yet quiet. It's deep connection. It's understanding and love. It's wishing to be together with the person you love. It's hot chocolate and coffee with whipped cream. It's waiting on a miracle and wanting to confess. It's giving presents. It's warm yet cold.

[rott3nc0re]

thriller

eddie munson x black!fem!reader

summary: you’ve been so afraid of watching the Thriller music video, so your boyfriend puts it on for you

warnings: a little bit of angst, some fluff and smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, dirty talk (kinda), teasing, foul language and eddie being the sweetest meanest bf <3

a/n: i’ve been writing this since august and finished it just in time for spooky month 💀 enjoy!!

she came over to eddie’s for movie night. for what movie… she didn’t know. he was being super vague on the phone saying it’s one they’ve seen together and that she’ll love. and because of that she agreed to come over anyway, she missed him.

“eddie” she whined as she hugged him from behind. she had changed into his Dio graphic tee because she decided was staying over for the night. he was making popcorn for the two of them, surprisingly not blowing up the microwave. “yes, sweetheart?” he turned around to face her, looking down at her with a little grin. “what are we watching?” she gave him doe eyes, she knew he would give in. but he didn’t. “you’ll see, baby. just be patient” he mocked her tone, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “you got everything set up though, right?” he asked softly as he rubbed the tip of his nose with hers. “mhm” she softly hummed, still not happy with him. “go sit down, i’ll put everything together okay?” she nodded and went to go sit on the couch and cover her legs with a blanket.

—

he turned the lights off and went over to the vcr player to press play. he quickly ran back to her, sitting next her and pulling her on his lap. she giggled as he did that, wrapping his arms around her waist as the blanket covered their legs. the movie started and the look on her face was priceless. he was playing the Thriller music video, which he knew she was super scared of. “eddie” she turned to face him, she already knew he had that smug grin on his face. “you wanna tell me why the fuck you’re playing this? knowing damn well that it scares me so much?” she got the remote and pause it, the grin not leaving his face. “well I thought since you were here… maybe we’d watch it together” he said, trying not to laugh. he loved scaring her, pranking her, anything to make her a little bit pissed off at him.

“munson—“

“babe c’mon, you know everything in that video is fake right?”

“so? you know it scared me since I was kid”

he sighed, holding out his arms. “c’mere” she caved in, leaning back into his lap. he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead. “look, if you can’t handle it anymore we’ll watch something else” she wanted to say yes but she had to face her fears somehow. “no,” she sighed, “keep it on. i’ll just hide if i get scared. or dance” he chuckled, kissing her forehead again. “yeah? you sure?” she nodded. he pressed play on the remote to continue the music video.

—

about five minutes in and she was dancing. she sung along to the song with eddie just in awe. of course Michael Jackson’s music wasn’t his go-to but he did enjoy some songs because of her. and this was one of them.

“dance with me, eds!” she was up already dancing. “i rather just watch you, babe” he kindly declined with a tiny little smirk. she bit her lip and continued dancing until it cut to the graveyard scene.

the booming deep voice she’s always been scared of made her stop dancing, running back into eddie’s arms. he chuckled, “i got you, it’s okay” rubbing her back softly. “ugh, i shouldn’t still be scared of this” she frowned looking back at him. a thought came to his head, a very good thought.

“how about… a little distraction?”

“it better be just little distraction, munson. i still wanna focus on the tv”

“don’t worry,” he said, his sneaky head traveling across her stomach and thighs. “it’s gonna be a good tiny distraction” he rasped against her neck. she felt completely relaxed in his arms, seeing the zombified singer on screen didn’t scare her as much. “still scared?” he deepened his voice to tease her, leaving a breathy chuckle against her neck. he ran his fingers up and down her sides. “hm?” that made chills run down her spine, leaving out a tiny gasp as his lips attached to her neck. “w-wanna focus on the…” she lost her train of thought as his hand traveled in between her legs. she was getting worked up.

that devilish grin appeared on his face, taking a glance at the tv before looking back at her. “on the zombies dancing? i mean they’re doing a good job” he teased but she whined. “fuck you, munson” it was said in a light moan, feeling his hand rubbed on her cloth heat.

he left a breathy chuckle, “just say the words, baby” oh how he loved teasing her. “no” she protested. “alright, if you say so” he stopped everything he was doing, making her look back.

“eddie”

“nuh uh, focus on the tv baby”

and she did with a sigh, obeying him.

the worst part for her came on. the girl running to that abandoned house while the zombies went after her. she whined and crawled into his lap, making herself shaped like a ball. he wrapped his arms around her. “you can close your eyes until i tell you to open them” and she did, closing her eyes. the tv wasn’t really loud to begin with so she couldn’t tell what was happening. eddie had a grin his face, the best time to scare her was coming up.

“alright, open”

she did and immediately jumped up, a little yelp came out of her. that shot of Michael staring at the camera menacingly with the yellow eyes. she hit him multiple times in his chest as he just laughed away. the menacingly laugh she’d always be afraid of hearing was playing in the background. “fuck you, munson! ugh!” she became upset at him, which was perfectly planned for him. “alright, alright c’mere baby” he said, pulling her into him to hug her but she refused. “no, i hate you” she said sternly. he gave her a grin but she didn’t find it amusing. she huffed as she got up, leaving to go his room. “hey! wait, wait” he jogged after her, gently grabbing her wrist. she turned around, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms.

“babe, I was just teasing a little bit”

“you don’t tease me about that, eddie. you know how much that part scares me”

he nodded and moved closer to her, holding her hips.

“you’re right. let me make it up to you, tell you how sorry i am”

“and how would you do that?” he grinned at the perfect idea he had.

—

the moans from her mouth was loud and lewd. he was eating her out like a starved man and she loved it. he was showing her how sorry he was, letting her cum twice beforehand. pulling at his already messy hair due to great pleasure he was giving her. he kissed her inner thighs before looking up at her. “still mad at me baby?” his lips were glistening in her wetness, the sight making her clench onto nothing. “a little” she said, teasing him a little bit. he started toying with her slick folds, easing his way into fingering her. “a little? baby you know how loud you are? you still can’t be mad at me” he pouted, putting a finger into her. she gasped, rolling her head back as his finger thrust into her. “m’not mad anymore” she said a little quietly but he heard her. he wanted to tease her.

“i’m sorry, say that again?”

“i’m not mad anymore”

“louder baby, i didn’t quite catch that”

“i’m not mad anymore!”

he was fingering to the point of her climax. she moaned out loud, rolling her head and eyes back as she came. “mhmm, atta girl” she was in a daze, pouting because she needed to kiss him. “eddie” she whined, needing more of him. “i know baby” he kissed her clit before going up to plant his lips on hers.

“it’s so fun getting you scared”

[allhallowsthemepark]

Introduction to All Hallows

So then.

Theme parks and Halloween. Halloween and theme parks.

Most of your big-name American parks do something interesting for Halloween, and it’s no wonder. In the US, this holiday is second only to Christmas in terms of popularity and theme-ability (and if the Millennials and Zoomers have their way, may just eclipse it soon…get on that, kids). What’s more, every park can find a Halloween vibe that suits its brand. Universal Studios, the outfit that basically invented horror movies, goes all-out on the grotesque with roaming hordes of ghoulish, chainsaw-wielding “scare-acters,” indoor mazes filled with horrific imagery and jump-scares, and an extra-frightening version of the tram tour. Disney, by contrast, goes family-friendly with smiling jack-o-lanterns, special parades and fireworks, and evening events featuring trick-or-treat stations and dance floors. Almost any park might toss in some zombified character performers, fog machines, and creepy music for its after-dark Halloween events.

And that’s not even counting the temporary Halloween attractions that spring up every fall like mushrooms after a light rain, and vanish just as quickly once November rolls around.

I’ve explored several types—not all of them, but enough to make an informed opinion—and that opinion is that none of them really reflects my feelings about Halloween. This is largely because that very expectation of brand-appropriateness means that only a small part of the full spectrum of moods and concepts represented by the holiday will be showcased. Halloween is complicated, man. The most obvious comparison is, again, with Christmas, and I think there's a pretty strong consensus as to what that holiday is about—the disagreements, when they arise, tend to revolve around not what Christmas means, but whether the things it means are good.

But Halloween has layers. It has textures. It's bound to, given its history as a pop culture-infused spooky extravaganza slathered on top of a romp day for children that grew out of an expression of neighborly mischief based on a Victorian celebration of mysticism and superstition harking back to a Catholic feast honoring the saints cribbed from a Celtic end-of-year harvest/ancestor worship festival. There are a lot of different tones and motifs associated with Halloween, and they're all equally valid.

What is Halloween about, when you get right down to it? Which aspect of this uniquely multifaceted holiday reigns supreme?

Costumes, free candy, and children roaming the neighborhood after dark?

The harvest season, with pumpkins and cornstalks and spiced apple cider to sip while enjoying a hayride in the country?

Witches and goblins and banshees and other beings from fantasy and folklore lurking in the forest at midnight?

Moldering graveyards, haunted castles, marauding vampires and unfriendly villages where every door is bolted and every shutter drawn promptly at sundown?

Horror movies, bloody murder, zombies at the mall and stalkers in the bushes?

All of these and more?

I have to pick the last option, and that's why I think Halloween, as a concept, could support an entire full-sized theme park, and not just during the fall but year-round. Christmas theme parks of various scales and scopes have enjoyed year-round success in the past, and while their heyday has passed by now…well, see my above point about Halloween gradually catching up with and even surpassing Christmas in popularity. Fans of Halloween seem much more tolerant of the “creep” phenomenon where it gradually gets promoted earlier and earlier in the year, than fans of Christmas. Additionally, Halloween crosses over almost seamlessly with a number of genres of fiction, including horror, thriller, and urban fantasy, all of which are evergreen in and of themselves.

If nothing else, the Goths would love it.

Stay tuned for more details about…

[hunting-songs]

Campfire Stories! Hisoka♦️

Send me “Campfire Stories” and my muse will tell yours about a scary tale, folk story, or even one of their own spooky experiences.

"Mhmmmmm, what is that? You think I could ever tell a story that could scare a person like you who had dismembered himself before audience and had fun in it? I am deeply flattered you think of my storyteller -skills so highly, really, I do not deserve that kind of praise. What did I do to deserve you having such a high opinion of me?" Laughing in all good humor Senritsu lay a small hand on her chest a little too dramatically to be truthful. Hat put on the table before her, vest buttoned open, her blousesleeves hitched up and her round face turned to the side towards the warmth of the still surprisingly hot autumneveninglight, Senritsu could almost be seen as relaxed and content, if it would not have been clear that she was still attentive listening, listening, listening. Her short fingers tapped a melody against the side of her teacup- hasty, nimbly, fast; the heartbeat of someone beeing hunted. Or someone beeing watched. Like she felt watched by Hisoka.

The cafés outdoor area was bathed in the warm eveninglight and drowned in the permanent murmur of the city street washing around it, yet, if Senritsu focused, if she really would be stupid enough to not keep her attention on Hisoka, she could hear the gurgling of a small stream sepperating the city from a overgrown small park at the other side of the street, tickling lively like violine music around her ears.

"But I can try, if it makes you happy", Senritsu hummed friendly, although she still attentive listened, listened, listened. What exactly was he trying to do?, she wondered with her head tilted to the side like a curious bird, Flatter her? No, that was not it. Thinking he could find out something about her ove rthe story she would tell? Or did he really just wanted to hear a simple story? Making fun of her, considering she it had been one of those scary storys that had ended the life she had had build for herself before the curse?: " Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was a sweet child but as much as he was sweet, he was talented: He had been blessed with a keen hearing and a great talent for music. Any second of his life he would devote to this craft of his.And no - " Senritsu just shaked her head laughing:

"That boy is not a stand-in for me, it is just a story." The laughter stopped. Senritsu never liked listening to liars:" But back to the story- the boy would not care about anything else in his life but his music. And so he did not noticed that the world around him changed. He was so focused on his music, that he did not noticed that the neigbours cats and dogs disappeared. He was so focused on his muisc, that he did not noticed the adults worried and tensed faces. He was so focused on his music that he did not noticed the old people sitting on their porches day in and out disappearing. He was so focused on his music that he did not noiced how his parents would lock the door to the house in the night. He was so focused on his music, that he did not noticed that the laughter from the other villagechildren nolonger filled the streets. One night, he did noticed something. The only thing he could ever notice. The only thing that he could ever hear. He heard a song so sweet, so much sweeter than what he had ever heard before, from outside his room from the near river. And in the same moment he knew that he had to learn this song. So he left his save bed and climbed out of the window, leaving the house his scared parents had made so sure to lock up for the night. His path lead him through streets that were empty, only noticing now that people nolonger dared to go outside at night. The song lead him along the graveyard that had fresh graves, which he had not noticed had been digged and filled. And eventually the song lured him to the river near his village. There, in the middle of the river sat a longhaired, beautiful young man who played violine. And once again the boy had only ears for the music, so he did not saw the horse-like ears of the man, nor the webbing between his fingers and toes, not the blood smeared over his sharp teeth, and espeially not the hunger in the Nokkens eyes after the villagers had wisely locked their doors to prevent anyone from beeing lured to the Nokkens river at night when songs could travel so much farer than on the day. But the Nokken was hungry and the boy was even more hungry or learning the beautiful song, that he climbed into the river and let the Nokken teach him that beautiful song the whole night. And in the morning the Nokken gave the boy the violine, patiently waiting.

Patiently waiting for the boy to return to his village. Patiently waiting for the boy to stand on the villages marketplace. Patiently waiting for the oh so eager boy to play the beautiful song he had just learned. And as soon as he played the song anyone had to listen. And anyone had to dance. But it was not a joyful dance, and when the boy was first happy that he could show his talent and art, he soon noticed that he could not stop playing the song. And the people listening to the song could not stop dancing to it. Skin was peeled off feet until people were dancing on naked bones and the marketplace was drenched in their blood. Days passed full of screams that wer enot loud enough to overtune the beautiful song. But even when the villagers fell over their shatterd feet, they could not stop dancing and helplessly rolled in their own blood. Days passed and by now noone in the village was alive anymore, but the boy who eventually stopped playing the song after the violine slipped out of his hands that had been after days of beeing unable to stop playing had the skin hung off the flesh in bloody scraps. Only than the Nokken came out of the river and collected the bodies of the villagers who had hid from him so carefully . That evening the Nokken had a great meal. And then the boy was left alone. Alone with the dead and his off skin and muscles peeled hands." She thought about those skinned hands, smooth to the touch and as fragile as thin branches she needed to hold carefully. She thought about those skinned hands, always aching, especially in the cold. She thought about those skinned hands, happily tapping on the table after the melody of her flutepiece, now almost painless from the vibration her songs had left in the air . She thought about those skinned hands eagerlyand nimbly learning to play the flute again after the vibration of her songs had soothed the ache. She thought about those skinned hands, twisted like rotten branches that had fallen off the table and had been hanging out from under the shroud in the horrible bright, horrible pale light in the hospitals morgue that had made it impossible for her to look away until the image had burned into her mind like a curse.

In the much too warm eveninglight Hisoka was still sitting on the other side of the table and she heard his heartmelody a little too close to her liking.

"....Anyway, that was the story," In fact Senritsu noticed that she really did not liked that his heartbeat sounded like that from a cat that had just caught a bird in their paws. Sighing quietly she leaned back in her chair, humming sweetly and unbothered even if she was also attentive listening, listening, listening : "I told you that I could not scare you. So how about you recommend me now something from the menu before I start telling you horrible boring stories about cursed musicpieces, mhmmmmmm? I do not want you to get bored, after all."

[ @muddsludge ]

[sheepkebby]

Completing The Parish on expert difficulty

:)

Today, to celebrate Tabitha and I getting so close to the end of this challenge, I've dressed Ellis in his fanciest suit. He looks even better than Nick in my opinion.

The first map was pretty easy. We only died like once because I couldn't resist touching the jukebox and playing some funky tunes. Turns out a hoard of zombies hated my music taste. Oops.

After that blunder, Tabitha and I made it to the saferoom just fine. The bots weren't as lucky. They're just not experts like we are.

The second map, the one with the park and the alarm panic event, was definitely the hardest part of this campaign. We died maybe 6 times. At some point I had aaaalmost made it, everyone else was dead, but a Jockey got me just as I was a few yards from the saferoom. A damn shame.

On another attempt, we spotted a witch right outside that little van you hide in before the panic event. Turns out, those van doors are TOUGH. Tabitha startled the witch and she couldn't reach us, so we just shot her through the window. Get door'd idiot.

On another attempt, Tabitha and I were preparing in the van when suddenly the alarm started blaring. We turned around to see the door was wide open... But neither of us opened it?? Safe to say we didn't survive that attempt since the panic event started before we were ready. We have no idea why the door opened by itself. The only explanation was the bots did it for some reason, cus what else could it have been?

We executed them as punishment.

Anyways, here's me and Tabitha doing a little dancey dance together. Downloading the dancing healing animation mod was the best decision I've ever made.

Also at some point I noticed that in this saferoom there's a box of cereal WITH TF2 ON IT ❗❗❗ FUCK YEA I WANT A TF2 ACTION FIGURE

(Not entirely surprised this is here, since they're both Valve games. It's a really nice easter egg though. Made me happy).

Eventually, with a well timed bile bomb and some good luck, we actually made it to the saferoom with everyone alive! 6 deaths was a lot less than I thought we'd get, so either this map is easier than expected or we just got very lucky.

Next up was the car impound lot and the graveyard, which I think was the most terrifying map of this entire challenge. Before this, I didn't even have the achievement for not triggering any car alarms. I'm too much of a clumsy fool and always end up triggering at least one.

Tabitha gave me some advice though; stick to a melee weapon, don't shove any blinking cars, and don't jump on any blinking cars.

Our first attempt failed because a tank got in our way. Our second attempt failed, as I had accidentally shoved a car while trying to save Coach from a smoker.

I did notice, though, that this poster here has the same design on Ellis' hat! Maybe it's the same auto shop company that he works for?

On our third attempt, we managed to not trigger any car alarms! We made our way through the graveyard with extreme caution, throwing a pipe bomb or two that we found. I've ever been more terrified in my life. I don't think I blinked the entire time.

Despite my rising anxiety, we managed to make it to the saferoom just fine, and I got a new achievement!

Next up was the map with the parade float, and we actually made this on our first attempt!

The parade float was a little spooky, as the bots got downed on the ground floor cus they're idiots. Lucky for us though, that gave me and Tabitha some measure of safety, since the zombies were all attacking the downed bots rather than us. We killed all the zombies, but we were too late to save the bots. RIP.

It's alright, there were a few respawn closets up ahead anyway.

We got the bots back, and we made our way through town. At some point, I heard a small hoard of zombies come up behind us, so I threw my Molotov over my shoulder. Uh. Turns out there was a smoker behind us too, and it dragged one of the bots directly into the fire. The second bot decided to kill itself by also running directly into the fire in an attempt to save them. Woops!

Tabitha and I decided to book it at that point, since the saferoom was close by and there's gonna be like 8 medkits in there anyways. Tabitha got swarmed by the hoard, and I just barely managed to evade a witch and make it to the saferoom by myself.

I can't help but feel... Like maybe... This is my fault somehow... 🤔 No, not possible. I'm an expert gamer.

Now it was time for the bridge. The achievement was at our fingertips. We had plenty of medkits to spare since the game is very VERY generous in this saferoom. Tabitha and I took pipe bombs, and I took an adrenaline.

We died only twice.

On our third attempt, we had managed to successfully make our way to the middle of the bridge where the tank was. Here's an expert tip: Don't fight the fucking tank. It's a thousand times safer to just outrun it and let it kill the bots as a distraction, and we did just that.

We ran past the tank, ignoring the sounds of Coach and Nick dying behind us. I threw my pipe bomb just as the zombies started closing in on us. I was on red health, so I took my adrenaline to go a little bit faster. Tabitha and I booked it to the helicopter, and it was a clear, painless final sprint.

And finally, after everything we've been through, after all that pain, all the tears, the laughter, the friendly fire, the bot abuse, everything, ladies and gentlemen, we finally made it.

We finally completed every main L4D2 campaign on expert difficulty.

It was rough, but it was also the most fun I've ever had playing L4D2. If you have at least one friend to play with, I highly recommend trying to get this achievement yourself. Maybe you can use some of my posts for future reference to help you through some tough areas. I fully plan on making a lengthy google doc guide of everything I learned, and I'll post it within a few days. That way you guys can have a long list of strategies and expert tips if you're interested.

To everyone who cheered us on, gave us any tips, and laughed at our failed attempts, thank you so much. It's been a lot of fun posting my experience.

And thank you @thedarkfreack for sticking with me 'til the end and being the best partner ever. <3

Dead Center | Dark Carnival | Swamp Fever | Hard Rain

[dreamycollective]

                                                     Boys and girls of every a g e,                                                                                                      wouldn’t you like to see something                                                                                                               𝓢 𝓣 𝓡 𝓐 𝓝 𝓖 𝓔 ?

With October lurking around the corner, just waiting to spring out and give everyone a good fright, an official scroll arrives to the Smash Manor, following the flyer that had appeared at the beginning of the month. It was delivered by a group of ghosts, who howled eerily through the corridors to get everyone’s attention. Lights would falter and blow out, leaving only one lit over the scroll, which floated above the residents long after the spectres had left.

The scroll would unfurl on its own, so it could be read by anyone who dared. It was clearly written by Halloween Town’s own Mayor; dictated by the Pumpkin King himself. It was an extended invitation to spend October in Halloween Town, helping inspire Jack Skellington in bringing his horrific holiday to life.

A map of the town and Hotel Transylvania is also included at the foot at the scroll, which duplicates itself and flutters into everyone’s hands. Once more, the hotel will be offering accommodation during your visit. The map would contain directions to reach the hotel from their connecting graveyards.

                    Jack is terribly excited to scare you all again. Ghoul-d luck...

        EVENT DETAILS:

This special Halloween event is back for the Smash / General Nintendo community! If your muse chooses to attend, they will transform into a Halloween creature upon arrival to Halloween Town ( like Kingdom Hearts ). It’s up to you what sort of Halloween entity your muse will become! Of course, if your muse is already scary, they needn’t change.

You don’t have to be following me, but it helps since my Jack Skellington and Count Dracula here will be the ones hosting the spooky festivities in Halloween town.

Your muses will be staying at Hotel Transylvania during the event, which Count Dracula runs. He is an old friend of Jack. The graveyards at each location offer a quick portal to and fro.

I wanna stress that this event is open to everyone in the RPC. Smash is about celebrating crossovers and Sora being in Smash makes everything canon. Don’t be afraid to get involved! Canon characters, OCs or otherwise, you’re all welcome to have some spooky fun in Halloween Town!

It will take place the throughout all of October with special events every week. This means everyone gets a chance to take part, but you’re not locked into the event, you can RP outside of it normally of course! Your muses will be helping Jack and the rest of the town make Halloween happen! They will also get to experience many different activities such as pumpkin carving and finding a prize through a haunted maze. Parties will also take place at the Hotel and live music events. Again, the community tag for this event will be: ‘#event: spooky smashing fun’

The events aren’t time sensitive and can overlap, so don’t worry if a new one starts and you’re still having fun with another one. For example, your muse can carry on pumpkin carving, while a masquerade party is also happening. You can take part in as many or as few events as you like. The point is to have some Halloween fun all through October! 

Please reblog this post if you’re interested / your muse is joining the fun! It helps gauge interest. Please feel free to join the Smash/Nintendo RPC Discord server for more discussion and to share your ideas for this event and more! https://discord.gg/SETxJyv

[thistleandthorn-events]

It's that time of year again, ghouls and goblins, for your favorite institute to put on your favorite event - THE HALLOWEEN MASQUERADE! So come join us on October 28th for a night of food, fun, and mystery! (Everything below the cut is IC knowledge unless otherwise directed).

RULES

Attendance is mandatory for all students. Townspeople are optional.

All attendees must wear a costume complete with mask.

YOU CANNOT TELL ANYONE WHAT YOUR COSTUME IS.

Marks are on hold for the party, however, the headmaster and guards will be around so don’t be ridiculous about it.

ACTIVITIES

Dancing - Great Hall

Escape Room - First floor classrooms (4 rooms designated for different themed escape rooms)

Photo Booth - Great Hall

Snacks and Punch - Great Hall

Halloween themed Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner (8-10am, 12-2pm, 5-7pm respectively) - Cafeteria

Movie Viewings - Auditorium (10am - Hocus Pocus 2, 1pm - Ghostbusters, 4pm - The Skeleton Key, 7pm - Friday 13th, 10pm - Saw X)

Pumpkin Carving, Pumpkin seed spitting, Pumpkin Painting, Halloween Crafts - Art Room

Thriller Dance Instruction and performance - Dance Studio

Punkin’ Chunkin’ - Court yard

Haunted Maze - Hedge Maze (like a haunted corn maze with characters, spooky music and guards dressed in costume chasing people. They cannot touch or harm students)

Mad Science Lab - Cafeteria (snacks themes as science and laboratory - eyeballs that are grapes in jello, intestines that are spaghetti noddles, etc)

Potion making - Cafeteria (alcoholic and non alcoholic choices)

Bobbing for Apples - Court Yard

‘Ghost in the Graveyard’ Game - Court Yard

Horror Movie Trivia - Ipads in Great Hall

COSTUME CONTEST

There will be a costume contest BUT it is slightly different from what you’d expect. The object of this contest is to try to be as convincing as your costume character as you can. Everyone will vote for the top 3 costumes - again, the voting criteria being that you had NO IDEA WHO THEY WERE. We’re looking for the best actors here and the top 3 winners will win 200 points each!

OOC INFO

Alright, so here’s how it’s going to work - create a side blog for each of your characters’ costumes. THE URL SHOULD HAVE NOTHING IN IT about your actual character. Remember, you don’t want people to know who your character is. This goes for IC and OOC. PLEASE, don’t break the game. It’s not fun if you break the game.

On your sideblog for your character’s costume, post a photo of your costume including the mask. Once the blog is built and photo is posted, add the URL and costume to THIS GOOGLE DOC. Also, posting throughout the party will be done all F2F. There will be no online or tumblr based starters.

Ok, this part gets a little confusing. IC - this event only happens on Saturday October 28th. BUT, OOC we’ll be ‘freezing time’ to allow this event to be played out Monday-Sunday (October 23rd-29th). Again, it’s all happening IC on Saturday. Please keep the dash strictly Masquerade during the whole event.

The other part of the “don’t think about it” part of this is we need to kinda fake things about our characters to avoid being discovered. For example, since this takes place AFTER locktober, no one's locked for this. Or, Austin won't show his accent to avoid knowing who he is, etc. So just kinda suspend your disbelief, please. This goes for physical attributes, accents, etc.

OTHER THINGS TO CONSIDER when making your blog:

Take off auto-tags if you have a way you tag things regularly, or just tag differently

Don't post photos or manips displaying your face claim in your costume

Don't talk OOC about what costume your characters are wearing

If while playing, you miss something please utilize tumblr's asks/messages and message from your sideblog, not your main.

Don't reuse former Masquerade side blogs (not everyone deletes people)

Look out for OOC traits/behaviors which might identify you

Any triggering plots or plots involving a lot of people need to be approved.

If your student character participates they will receive 50 points. Participation will include at least some decent activity (just a post or one/two replies will not count.) Gimme at least one thread and I’ll count it.

VOTING - once we get closer to the event we’ll let you know how this will go but it will be dependent on NOT LETTING ANYONE KNOW (Ic or OOC) WHAT COSTUME YOUR CHARACTER HAS. Please, again, Don’t Break the Game. These things are only fun when the rules are followed. Vote per character, however, even if your character doesn’t interact with them. So, you can use some OOC knowledge for voting ONLY.

We allow costumes to double. Make sure you're paying attention to the URL name when you're voting.

If you have questions please feel free to ask but make sure it’s not already answered in this post please and thank you.

[murkyspace]

alright I’m just gonna dump the general ideas and names for two of my  beetlejuice AUs, might do more detailed posts for each of them later, do more posts for some more of these, including some that aren’t super developed, whatever happens

“Burning Out”:

- Typical “Beetlejuice comes back” fic, takes place post-musical

- After some long, hard talks with the family through a mirror, Beej is eventually allowed to come back, but there’s something weird going on with his magic.

- For the first few weeks in the house, using too much juice will either exhaust him, physically hurt, or both. Even after that period, sometimes his magic will do weird things or react to his emotions without his input (literally shrinking when he feels guilty, creating a gateway into his dreams when he’s asleep, growing spikes when he’s not in the mood to be touched). Essentially, it’s if Beej took some levels of Wild Magic Sorcerer.

- Otherwise, it’s very slice-of-life, I don’t really have much of a plot thought out for this yet beyond the intro and a few neat ideas.

- It’s also a mild dumping ground for all the “Deetzes, Maitlands, and BJ all live in the same house” scene ideas and headcanons that I have

“Death Defiance”:

-Teen!Beej AU, inspired by moonbunnyblues’ Lawrence BJ Deetz AU and toonjuice sibling AU art

-Little bit closer to musical canon/fanon than those two, though, Beetlejuice has his curse invoked by Juno and kicked out of the Netherworld at age 14 for impersonating a guide to try and experience the living world firsthand.

-He’s stuck in a graveyard with none of his powers when he meets 11-year old Lydia. Unfortunately for him, her mama warned her about strangers offering to solve all her problems, so she doesn’t summon him. She does come over to the graveyard after school and they talk and mess around.

-Speaking of Lydia’s mom, Emily’s alive here! She’s weird and fun and spooky and passes all of it down to her kid.

-Lydia’s passion for the weird and macabre makes her normally ignored in public, but when the bullying gets bad, it gets BAD. A particularly awful episode is what convinces her to cross the “summon Beej” threshold.

-After that, there’s some fluff with Lydia and Beej being absolute menaces, some quiet emotional moments, an adoption (maybe), and the escapades of local amateur paranormal instigator Adam Maitland with his best friend Barbara.

-Not sure if I’m going to post it here for spoilers, but one part of this that I have planned has a major body horror trigger warning

-This one’s arguably the most developed idea so far, and I’m still nowhere close to getting the first chapter out.

[greenvillainredemption]

We don't know, like, too much about G3 Ghoulia since she hasn't appeared much yet, but I'll try to list most everything we do know:

In the live-action movie, which is a separate continuity from the cartoon and dolls, she's kind of the "weird" girl. I don't mean that in a negative way though- I mean she's the kid that, like... When Clawdeen first meets her she acts in a spooky/dazed/ominous way as a way to, like, prank/spook her? But when Clawdeen doesn't react to it she's just like "aw man" and properly talks to her. She also sleeps in a graveyard in the school rather than in the dorms, and when the main trio is sneaking around in there she'll rise up like in an old zombie movie to make a funny comment.

Ghoulia being the smartest ghoul in school isn't really like, a thing anymore? Probably because of the thing with Frankie's brain being made up of the greatest minds in monster history. But she IS still a nerd! Or at least, it's mentioned she has fast fingers for playing videos game (see the grimtendo screech her basic doll comes with) and her skateboard has Dead Fast on the bottom (her favorite comic superhero in G1)

Speaking of her skateboard, while Ghoulia has always had the taste for things like that (see: her Scooter in G1) G3 seems to be leaning more into it, probably to make up for her no longer being the smart one, so now she's kind of more predominantly a skater girl- her skateboard allows her to go faster than her undead legs can, but she's supposedly not the best at stopping. "It's a good thing zombies don't feel pain!"

She is also part of the Casketball team, alongside Lagoona, Heath, and Deuce. Also Probably Clawdeen and Clawd in the future. This may be a reference to how she fought for zombies to have the right to play in G1.

According to Lagoona's music video, Ghoulia's her bestie. We haven't seen them interact in the show yet, but some leaked episode synopses seem to suggest this is true. In the live-action movie, though, Lagoona's only seen as Cleo's bestie, with Ghoulia just being a fun minor character that shows up on occasion.

One of the concept designs for Ghoulia's appearance in the show has her with Ramona Flowers' hairstyle in the Scott Pilgrim vs the World fillum.

Her design doesn't really feature red anymore :( which sucks cuz red was her theme color in G1 and they incorporated it into her design sooo well, like, when you look at her you don't immediately register her as wearing a lot of red, but when you look closer for it you'll notice almost every piece she's wearing is red. Meanwhile in G3 most everything she wears is black (sometimes white or gray) with the occasional pop of bright lime or hot pink, with the only actual colored piece being her weird plastic-y neon pink skirt, which I really think should've been red pants instead...

She can turn her head 360 degrees.

I feel like i'm missing something but this is all that comes to mind soooo there!

Aaaaaa that’s so fun! So she’s a bit of a daredevil now aaaa I love that??? Really cool how they tie in the old scooter thing into her new vibe. Thanks for sharing!! :D

[takato1993]

I watched a bunch of spooky movies this month. i watched most of them on Tubi for free I have been meaning to watch some movies on there but I just never got around to it until this month partly because I did not know it had such a good selection of movies which do ...

seem to rotate out after a set amount of time so some of the movies I am reviewing will be gone today and some might be there permanently of gone in a month or two so catch them quick if anything I watched is on your to watch list. ( 5?10 is average and thats ok)

Phantasm- 7/10

a classic with really good theme music and practical special effects. about a boy who discovers some dark and creepy things going on in the graveyard.

Tubi only had Phantasm I and III so I only watched the first one I think Phantasm II was the one I was curious about in the first place.

Jason X- 6/10

one of 2 movies in the Friday the 13th that were not aired in the marathon I saw on tv last year ( still don't know why they skipped VII but thats the only one left to watch now)

I enjoyed this movie it was fun but flawed I don't have much to say but I think the hate for it is a bit silly

Creepshow 2- 8/10

I think this movie hasn't aged the best but the middle segment " The Raft" is just a compelling and horrifying as I remembered and I highly recommend it.

Remember to always make sure someone knows where you are when you go to an isolated location is just good advice, tho cellphones sort of mitigate this problem- if you have a signal a charged battery

Subspecies I, II, and III- 7/10, 7/10, 5/10

honestly this was one of the best vampire movie series I have seen

this movie is about three college students that go to Transylvania to study the local legends.

this movie is very ambitious with very good practical effects, on set castles and ruins, and to my delight Ray Harryhausen inspired stop motion animation.

and I promise the antagonists constantly blood stained dripping lips will go from a little silly to creepy as the movies go one

theres a spinoff and a 4th movie I didnt watch them. I might later on.

C.H.U.D- 4/10

I Liked the creature designs well enough but this movie was painfully boring and If it was trying to have a message about polution and treating homeless people better i don't think it did that well either

tempted to watch the sequel even tho its supposed to be worse

Warlock I, II, and III- 8/10, 6/10, 4/10

another horror series with beautiful practical special effects this time we have time travel, witchcraft, and the antichrist

the same actor plays the Warlock/antichrist each movie even tho its a different character each time

a delightfully evil character just so over the top with it

avoid the second movie if animal death scenes bother you a lot, theres only one but hoo boy it's a lot.

this series does sadly get worse each movie but I genuinely enjoyed the first 2

Re-animator, Bride of Re-animator- 8/10, 7/10

A movie about a man who is very arrogant and adamant about being able to bring people back to life but they turn into violent mindless monsters every time.

and also a man that should know better and should have kicked him out of his house immediately but instead follows him pretty blindly

Herbert West is both the antagonist and a villain protagonist and I think it is hilarious that he tries to solve every problem by bringing the dead back to life (usually the problem is that he tried to bring the dead back to life)

a better antagonist does arise as well and they are delightfully messed up

contains one very disturbing and prolonged animal death scene

there is also a cute little monster made from a hand and some eyeballs int the second movie. it should be like the series mascot or something but alas it gets squished.

haven't watched Beyond Re-animator yet but I am curious about that one scene

Basket case- 5/10

I actually learned about this movie from Who's Line is it Anyway which is a pretty weird place to learn about such a graphic horror movie from

Casper- 7/10

not all movies I watched were horror or thriller movies

rewatching this I am surprised that it seems to have been completely forgotten.

it was fun, the effects were good, the set was a beautiful spooky mansion with vaguely gothic architechture how is this not a beloved mainstream Halloween classic

Witchouse- 5/10

Tubi's autoplay feature selected this one

a spooky witch themed horror movie with a lot of dead teenagers . its just okay

Nightbreed- 8/10

Rawhead Rex- 5/10

The Pit- 5/10

Black sheep- 5/10

Witches in Stiches- 8/10

Frankenhooker- 6/10

a modern comedic take on Frankenstein

my only question about this movie is why this man who is clearly devoted enough to his thicc dead girlfriend to spend all his time figuring out how to bring her back to life with stolen body parts decides to bring her back super skinny.

a coward that makes Herbert West look heroic by comparison uggh

had a cute little brain monster with an eyeball it lives in an aquarium

May- 6/10

another modern take on Frankenstein in a way, this time the focus is on May a socially awkward woman who gets pushed past the breaking point over and over

this movie also contains an animal death scene, and frankly it was unnecessary for the plot

Bad Taste - No rating

before Lord of the Rings Peter Jackson directed some very weird lower Budget movies

for the second time watching one I can't genuinely recommend it to people ( the first time was Meet the Feebles)

I am not going to criticize this one as much as i could because it was very independently made on a very low budget

Parents- 6/10

Repo! the Genetic Opera- 7/10

Castle Freak- 6/10

The Church- 7/10

Feast- 6/10

Deathgasm- 6/10

Tucker and Dale vs Evil- 7/10

The Stuff- 6/10

Tourist trap- 6/10

The Lair of the White Worm- 7/10

vampires, snake gods, the lambton worm this is a solid fantasy horror movie.

its also vaguely a comedy and I do not usually detect that in most British movies and I probably should not have in this one

there a weird scene where the villainess tells a series of bad and obvious lies and the burns her favorite board game " Snakes and ladders" to convince the protagonist she is telling the truth

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (2010) - 8/10

this ones about a dysfunctional family that move into a spooky old mansion that has a bunch of little monsters living under it deep under its buried and hidden basement that the family opens back up of course.

this is a remake by Guillermo Del Toro I have not seen the original and I know most people prefer the original but I don't think this is by any means a bad movie.

the father can be insufferably mean spirited at times. but hey step mothers get a rare kind representative.

The Babysitter- 9/10

this one is about a boy who discovers his beloved babysitter is doing human sacrifice and stealing his blood for a dark ritual

i watched this one on netflix with friends

its every bit as funny and clever that i hoped for and more

The Babysitter: Killer Queen- 6/10

Deadly Blessing- 4/10

the 4th worst twist killer reveal in a horror movie I have seen, at least there were hints.

Howling 3- 3/10

this movie convinced me that The Howling series really is bad tho i still like The Howling 2

oddly almost heartwarming

Its like the writers couldn't decided between weather this was a werewolf movie with Australian folklore tacked on ( kind respectfully tho I think), or a werewolf/ political drama, or werewolves in the movie industry/hollywood

whoever made the baby marsupial werewolf puppet really wanted it to get the most loving and lingering shots in this movie and it shows

Suspiria (1977) 7/10

the Monster Project- 4/10

Frightmare- 4/10

[nonchalantnightowlsworld]

31 Prompts for October: Horror

Day 14: Danse Macabre

The Last Dance

It was Halloween night, and the cemetery was filled with flickering candles and carved pumpkins. A group of teenagers had dared each other to spend the night there, hoping for some spooky fun. They brought snacks, drinks, and a portable speaker to play some music.

They settled near a large mausoleum, where they could see the moon shining through the bare branches of the trees. They laughed and joked, trying to scare each other with ghost stories and pranks. They were having a good time, until they heard a strange sound.

It was a violin, playing a haunting melody that echoed through the graveyard. They looked around, but they could not see anyone. The music seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Who’s playing that?” one of them asked nervously.

“Maybe it’s a radio or something,” another suggested.

“Or maybe it’s a ghost,” a third said, half-jokingly.

They decided to ignore it and continue with their party. But the music did not stop. It grew louder and faster, as if urging them to join in. They felt a chill in the air, and a sense of dread in their hearts.

They noticed that the candles and pumpkins were starting to move. They were not just flickering, they were dancing. They saw shadows moving among the tombstones, shapes that looked like skeletons and corpses. They heard voices whispering in their ears, inviting them to dance.

“Come, come, come, Death in a cadence, Striking with his heel a tomb, Death at midnight plays a dance-tune, Zig, zig, zig, on his violin.”

They realized that they were not alone. They were surrounded by the dead, who had risen from their graves to join the Danse Macabre. And they saw him, the master of the dance, Death himself. He was a tall figure in a black cloak, holding a violin with a skull for a head. He smiled wickedly at them, as he played his fiddle with his bony fingers.

He beckoned them to follow him, to join his dance of death. He promised them fun and freedom, but they knew he was lying. They knew he wanted to take them away, to make them his eternal partners.

They tried to run, but they could not move. They were paralyzed by fear and by his power. They felt his cold hand grabbing theirs, pulling them into his dance. They screamed, but no one heard them.

They danced with him, and with his minions. They danced with the pope, the emperor, the king, the child, and the labourer. They danced with all who had lived and died before them. They danced until they had no breath left in their lungs, no blood left in their veins, no life left in their souls.

They danced until dawn broke, and then they fell to the ground, lifeless and cold. Their bodies joined the others in the cemetery, waiting for the next Halloween night when they would rise again to dance with Death.