#…anyway! back to the fun kind of spooky

[morvantmortuary]

“Hi. I’m Rora Morvant. You want to know what I find genuinely scary?

Not bein’ able to vote, because I’m fuckin’ dead, and they don’t let dead people have Voter Registration.”

“Look. The country was nowhere close to perfect when I went into the ground in 2000. But imagine wakin’ up from a decades-long dirt nap and learnin’ about the roller coaster that was the last six elections all at the same time. My brother and my cousin only got me through my wikipedia binge to get myself up to speed with an IV drip of homemade sangria.

And now? Right now? With a little over a week until election day, and one of our options is a fuckin’ rape-y senile game show host? Does anyone else feel like they’ve lost their goddamn mind, or is that just me?? Is that just what passes for normal, now? Someone finds some sleazy idiot with the barest minimum brand relevance, stick their hand up his ass, and prop him up as a puppet in a position of power while convincin’ people that their voice is somehow bein’ denied if they don’t choose the most disgusting thing they could find at the rich person old folks’ home? You take a man that can probably barely remember the names of his own offspring and tell him he’s in charge of major policy decisions with regards to bodily autonomy? A man who can’t apply his own foundation properly, and make him out to be our best advocate on the world stage???

So, this spooky season, I, a revenant necromancer who cannot vote due to the small technicality of my bein’ dead, am beggin’ everyone who can vote to please, please, please, for the love of everythin’ both holy and unholy, don’t make livin’ here any more goddamn embarassin’ than it has to be. I’m dead, I can’t have a passport either, it’s not like a lot of us have options.

They even give you a little sticker if you go, if that sweetens the pot for anybody. Here’s what the one for Louisiana looks like this year:

It’s got a little crawdad in his Sunday best. That’s… cute, I guess.

Anyway. Point is, don’t let this place become any more of a horror story than it already is. Please. For those of us that can’t.

Or I swear to god, y’all.”

[This message approved and paid for by Rora Morvant.]

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Hey no pressure if you don't remember off the top of your head but was there a Bigfoot episode of The X Files?

the closest they came iirc was The Jersey Devil in season 1 and Detour in season 5. a lot of the "stereotypical" folkloric stuff kind of got subverted, i.e. the episode that makes you assume vampires actually isn't, etc. one of the only ones in the first couple seasons that I remember that the assumption is played totally straight is the werewolf episode in season 1 or 2.

[cinnabeat]

i should relisten to season 1 of the magnus archives

[twig---verginix]

swear to god i'm just gonna stop watching the endings to shows i like. good shows need to get cancelled on cliffhangers forever

[grackleshells]

Me when I realize I have free will and ABSOLUTELY can watch Batman the Animated Series and draw at the same time

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! all your spooky drabbles have been amazing, you’re so talented! i was wondering if i can request a poly!marauders spooky drabble where they have a horror/slasher marathon and both reader and sirius are being insufferable trying to predict who’s the killer and remus is just being the voice of reason to all their theories and james just enabling them, asking them questions and its all fluffy?? thank you! hope you’re having a great spooky season 🎃🫶

Thank you lovely!!

cw: suggestive content

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words

“It’s that actress,” Sirius muses, voice softened the way it always gets when you play with his hair. “What’s her name?” 

“That one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mia Goth.” 

Sirius adjusts his head on your chest. “Right, her. She never really plays the innocent, does she?” 

“Mm, you don’t think they’re trying to trick us?” 

A door opens down the hall, and you jump a little. Sirius chuckles, giving you a squeeze where his arms are wound underneath your jumper. “Chicken.” 

James waltzes into the living room looking properly rumpled. He’d dragged Remus away as soon as your workerbee boyfriend had gotten home, sequestering him in your bedroom. 

“Our entertainment wasn’t good enough for you?” Sirius asks as he sits down. 

James lifts Sirius’ legs, shuffling underneath so he’s closer to both of you. “Remus was gone all day,” he says simply. “I missed him.” 

“I can see that,” you laugh, poking at a red mark on his neck. “Jamie, what happened here?”

“Shh.” James nestles in close to kiss the skin by your ear. “You should see the other guy.”

Remus walks in, nimble fingers buttoning his shirt, but not before you spot the half dozen hickeys scattered about his chest.

“You deviants,” Sirius gripes. You suspect he’s a tiny bit wounded at being left out of the lovefest. “Movie night is supposed to be for all of us, and now you’ve missed half the middle.” 

“The middle’s always the most predictable part anyway,” says Remus, sitting down and putting his feet on the coffee table. 

Sirius kicks at him vengefully. Remus catches his foot, casting him an unimpressed look while he presses his thumb into the ticklist part of Sirius’ arch. Your boyfriend yelps, yanking his foot back. His fingers tighten around your middle. 

“Who are we thinking the killer is?” James picks up the bowl of kettle corn he’d abandoned on the coffee table earlier, scooping up a handful. Remus silently collects the pieces that fall onto the couch. 

One of Sirius’ hands comes out of your sweatshirt to take a piece. “Maybe Mia Goth.” 

“Ahh, I see. Who’s that?” 

“The blonde one there,” you say. 

“Oh, her.” James murmurs to Remus, “Have we seen her before?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” 

“I don’t know, I kind of wonder if it could be the mom,” you say. “You don’t usually see any real adults in these. It seems like the setup for something.” 

Remus hums. “Have any of her kids been killed?” 

You frown. “Well, yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t put my money on her, then.” 

You and Sirius exchange a look. Remus has a pretty stellar track record when it comes to guessing the killer in these films. You both want him to be wrong, but he’s likely right. 

“You never know,” says Sirius. He’s begun tracing patterns into your skin with his fingertips, phantom tattoos over your ribs. “They always have a partner in these things. Her partner could have betrayed her by killing one of the kids. Or she could be a psychopath that wants to escape the constraints of her domestic life, and this whole thing is just a way to kill off her kids without anybody suspecting her.” 

“Diabolical,” James mutters, shoving more kettle corn in his mouth. Three pieces tumble to the couch, which Remus picks up. 

“You guys always get caught up in the tropes,” Remus says. “It keeps you from seeing the logical choice.” 

Sirius frowns up at you. You pet his head. “You’re no fun,” he says to Remus.

“Oi,” Remus laughs, “I’m only trying to help you.” 

“They don’t want to know who the killer is, love,” says James, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder consolingly. “They want to shoot off theories and then be surprised by the end.” 

You and Sirius gawp. “That’s not true!” you say. 

James looks genuinely confused. “It’s not?” 

“No! Obviously we want to know who it is.” 

“That’s it.” Sirius waves them away with a sweep of his hand. “Go back to your debauchery, leave us to enjoy our film.” He snuggles close to you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “We won’t let them spoil it for us, sweetness.” 

“Wait, no,” James laughs. “We’re sorry.”

“We won’t spoil anything,” Remus vows. He leans around James to give you a soft look, and you feel your lips tilt up unwillingly. 

Sirius regards them both coolly. “You’ll be good for the rest of the film?” 

Remus’ eyes flash with amusement, and he grabs Sirius’ foot again, the threat potent. 

“We’ll be good,” James agrees. 

You and Sirius look at each other, both pretending to deliberate whilst suppressing your grins. He’s much better at it than you are.

“All right,” he says magnanimously. “You can stay.” 

“Good. It is our flat, too, you know.” James grabs a heaping fistful of kettle corn, bringing it to his mouth. 

Several pieces overflow, falling to the couch. Remus sighs. “Honestly, James.” 

[angel-of-the-moons]

I'd adore seeing something with Eddie and Venom being your big fuck off bodyguards at the Halloween party, bonus points if the costume is just venom!

Spooky Scary... Slime-Monsters?

Eddie x Venom x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None!!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

They met you in an alley, one night. The rich inheritor to some firm or another, cornered by a bunch of no-good (tasty) thugs.

Contrary to most people, you didn't run when Venom beat the shit out of, and promptly ate the heads off of your assailants. You were... Surprisingly open-minded? Eddie found that Venom liked you, and he'd be lying if your understanding of their situation wasn't refreshing. It was nice having someone other than his ex, or Ms. Chen to talk to about this sort of thing.

But when you hit them up to be a bodyguard to a freakin' Halloween party, of all places? He was hesitant, at first. But rent and groceries were kind of expensive... And you were offering quite a bit.

So, they took the offer. They met you, once again, in an alley.

The ground shook softly as Venom landed nearby. His maw stretched into an eerie grin as you gasped in shock before realizing just who it was.

"Oh! You're here!" You sighed with a relived smile, adjusting the little witch hat on your head, "I was starting to get worried."

"Yes, well... we wanted a snack so we grabbed some... fast-food on the way in." Venom replied with his deep, rumbly voice.

"Please tell me you cleaned up before you came here." You replied, scrunching your nose rather cutely.

"Of course, we aren't savages." Venom snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest and staring down at you; almost offended you would suggest he wouldn't clean himself of the evidence.

"Oh... Well, good." You said in reply, "Did you guys pick out a costume?"

Venom frowned--pouted, really, before rocking his head from side to side. "Eddie said costumes are dumb."

The way he stretched out the last word reminded you of a petulant child mocking their parent, and it made you smile.

"So... I guess you're going as you?" You suggested.

Venom's opalescent eyes widened for a moment, like he hadn't thought of that. As he opened his mouth, a part of his face peeled back and Eddie's own face appeared; and he did not look thrilled.

"No--"

"Yes!"

You couldn't help the giggle that came from your lips as they argued back and forth. But eventually, the symbiote wins out in the end.

And so, that's how you walk into the club, arm-in-arm with Venom.

It shocked people, to say the least, but in some cases, when people got too close, Eddie and Venom were great at pretending he was some sort of expensive, animatronic suit. A few people even stopped for some photos!

The party was a droll thing at first, slow and boring, even for a rented nightclub. But a lot of these people were friend of your parents--very few really knew how to actually have fun. Even the younger people they paid to be with for the evening seemed bored out of their skulls.

That was, until Venom had hopped on stage. He had managed to load the DJ performing into playing something a little more lively--to "get the blood pumping". Apparently, nobody but you got the morbid joke.

His ploy worked, and people began to go down to the dance floor. Well... the ones young enough to avoid breaking a hip, anyways. The older ones complained about the music tastes, but your parents, the hosts of the party, clapped Venom on the shoulder and thanked him for saving the evening.

As you all sat down to enjoy cocktails, you explained that you'd hired him as your bodyguard. When asked what had happened to your primary one, you explained that after he left you alone long enough to get robbed the night you first met Venom, you decided it was a good change of pace and protection. Your parents wholeheartedly agreed.

However, neither of you were prepared for when your dad shook Venom's hand and asked the dreaded question:

"So... Are you interested in dating our daughter?"

You wanted to die on the spot.

[facefullofsadness]

when succubus!winrina are summoned

g!p demon!jiminjeong x human!reader

smut, 2k wc

happy extremely belated birthday (like can I even classify this as a bday post anymore?) to the most annoying person I know @aliceiwk because she didn't wanna tell me her bday even though I was gonna find out eventually bc I was gonna post this ANYWAY. is late as FUCK (literally an entire month PLUS late omg) bc of school, travel, other reasons wtv, but that wasn't gonna stop me!!! soooo yes mwah mwah lub u enjoy ur jiminjeong threesome!!

when yizhuo and aeri had the bright idea of doing a silly little demon summoning session for funsies, you screamed at them in horror. what the actual fuck kind of idea is that? the two girlfriends' justification was simply for shits and giggles! I mean, that shit isn't real anyway, right? there's no ACTUAL fucking shot demons would come to haunt you guys if you tried conjuring em up!

somehow, someway, yall ended up in a circle with some candles, some salt, a shady looking book, and a dark ass room. being in the actual moment sent chills down your spine, the summer nights being quite cold to accompany such a stupid idea you and your friends were going through with. when your last minute effort to back out, stop, and instead watch horror movies to get their spooky fill failed, the two girls begin flipping pages of the book.

"what aboutttt demon of gluttony?" the small girl asks, pondering which demon to summon.

"there's not a lot of things to do with that," the taller girl replies, one arm propped up behind her girlfriend, checking her nails on the other hand.

"demon of wrath?"

"we've all got enough anger combined to need that one."

"demon of sloth!"

"fuck does that even mean?"

"ooohhhh!! y/n desperately needs this one, demon of lust."

"oh, perfect!"

"hey wait what is that supposed to mean?!" you butt in.

"now now, it's okay to badly want head! we're just helping you out!"

aeri raises her hands up and reaches out to pull you into the chair placed in the middle of a pentagram surrounded in candles. you put your face in your hands, shaking your head at the reality of what was currently happening.

"now just sit tight and soon enough you'll stop complaining about your celibacy!"

performing the ritual was goofier than you expected it to be. with the accompaniment of yizhuo's unserious reading of the spell, aeri's cackle everytime her girlfriend stuttered, and forgetting to pause the music, having txt's blue hour playing in the background, it was hard to take anything seriously. having to go through with the summoning ritual twice because the first time was so botched, thinking doing it again would make sure it "worked".

unsurprisingly, nothing happened. ning was disappointed, to which aeri had to kiss away her pout, but you were relieved because what the fuck would have possibly happened if it worked? you sent the girls home after making them clean the stupid ritual up, collapsing on your mattress and passing out.

in the dead of night, two figures emerge from the shadows, the darkness of your room enveloping the strangers. you're completely asleep, your peaceful breathing and spinning ceiling fan the only white noise to mask the echoey voices across the room.

"what are you doing here?"

"I was summoned, I could ask the same question to you."

"why would I purposefully go somewhere you are?"

"it's simple, you're obsessed with me or something."

"not as obsessed as you are with me."

the shadowy figures huff in the darkness before staring back at your slumbering body.

one of them smirks and scoffs, "horny slut must've summoned both of us."

"how fascinating, I was worried it was gonna be a man again," the other figure tilts her head to the side, observing your sleeping face.

"ugh, one thing we can finally agree on, men aren't nearly as fun or tempting as women."

the being observing your face brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes, "girls are just so delicious."

the two look at each other and exchange a sinister smile, almost agreeing to be civil through eye contact.

"then let's have our fun tonight yeah, winter?"

"only if you share, karina."

you were awoken to your body being thrown around, your back sinking into the mattress, wrists pinned on either side of you, eyes shooting open with a gasp, shaking you out of your sleep. foggy sight clearing and eyes adjusting to the darkness slowly as two figures come into view, women (?), or as your mind would rationalize them to be.

two shadowy women with rustic obsidian horns growing through their skulls, dark tails swaying behind them, black leather-like wings spanning out from their backs, and dark red orbs emanating aura from their eyes. you're frozen into place, your eyes doing all the talking as they observe the figures pinning you down with their talon-like claws, skimpy leather outfits hugging the pale women's milky skin.

you want to scream, thrash, do something, but all you can do is stare at them, eyes darting back and forth between the dark-haired and blonde creatures.

"awww, look at her, such an innocent little thing," the blonde coos, her voice reverberating, almost as if she had a filter over it.

the dark haired girl replies, voice heavy with reverb and seduction, "but she's not, she needed to be fucked senseless by two of us, isn't that right?"

you're speechless, mouth opening to answer but no noise escaping. no way... was this a result of that stupid summoning ritual you guys did earlier that night? it... worked? BOTH TIMES???

"can't speak, can you? do humans not understand what consequences of your actions mean? didn't your people come up with that saying?" the darker one pouts, pulling back from your face to straddle one of your legs, knee slotting itself perfectly between your thighs.

the blonde one giggles, her sinister tone sending shivers down your spine, "fuck I cannot wait to consume you, you're extremely enticing."

somehow, you speak, voice heavy with confusion, fear, and exhaustion, "what the fuck are you?"

the two exchange a sly smirk, looking at each before turning back to you, "exactly what you asked for, demons of lust."

succubus, it had clicked in your head as you further observed their features, feeling their nails digging into your skin, the pain confirming you were in fact not dreaming.

"don't worry little one, we'll give you everything you want."

the blonde demon's tail wraps around both of your wrists, the dark-haired demon releasing you from her grip, letting the other pin your hands down and back above you. the blonde settles next to your head, her crotch emanating heat in front of your face. she takes a handful of your hair and grips the back of your head, pulling your face up and lowering herself to meet you, your scalp stinging in her hold.

"be a good fucking whore and let us do what we want with you, you'll enjoy every second of it."

she pushes your cheek against her crotch, her addicting scent filling your nose, feeling her hard appendage press against your face. meanwhile, the dark-haired girl between your thighs digs her knee against your core, whimpering at the pressure, having only worn panties and a t-shirt to bed.

the taller girl's cold hands grip your exposed thighs, digging her nails into your skin, making you hiss. she trails her hands under your shirt, ghosting her fingers over your waist and dragging her claws across your stomach. her hands are greedy, moving at a moderate pace but every touch is so intense and rough, knuckles now rubbing against your soaking underwear, friction brushing against your clit.

everything happens so fast as you swear you black out every few seconds the more their touches advance on your body. before you know it, you're choking on the demon called winter, the other succubus grinding her knee against your bare pussy being karina. you moan against the blonde's cock as she thrusts mercilessly into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as tears spill from your eyes, the pleasure from the dark-haired girls needy hands on your hips forcing your body to roll against her knee with your panties pushed to the side, cunt leaking with your juices, making the movements slick, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.

"yeah little slut? like that big cock in your throat? can't speak huh? fucking whore," winter degrades above you, holding your head with both of her hands to control just how relentlessly she ruins your throat.

karina chuckles darkly below you, watching her pull away and lower her face to your pulsing core, "she is a whore, just look at how fucking wet this bitch is. she's practically a waterfall of cum."

through blurry, tear-filled eyes, you watch as karina's split tongue circled your hot clit, feeling its unforgiving movements dance across your aching slit as it flicks against your bud and hole simultaneously somehow. not that you question it, falling into an inevitable sub-space, your mind completely broken just as quickly as they had started fucking you.

you feel winter's member so deeply down your throat, it bulges in your neck, her rugged panting and breathing making the onslaught of your body worth it. all your noises are choked and silent however, karina's skillful mouth maneuvering your burning insides and throbbing outsides, the hums from her throat vibrating against your entire pussy. the sensation of winter's creamy cum flowing down your throat makes you roll your eyes back, not needing to swallow as her load slides down your esophagus easily.

"couldn't you be at least a little patient?" an annoyed karina pulls away from your pussy to complain, tugging your limp body up against her chest, winter's cock slipping from your swollen mouth.

the blonde's heavy breathing is accompanied by a reverberating chuckle as she responds, "don't be jealous, you get to taste the bitch's pussy, I should be the aggravated one."

the taller girl replies with a grunt, "fine, but I'm cumming in her cunt first."

"oh no, we're sharing that fucking hole," you feel the other succubus' body heat on your back, pressing her front against you, her still hard monster cock tapping against your ass.

"you are so fucking annoying," karina mumbles before pulling out her hard dick and slipping it between your folds, collecting your slick, pushing into your tight hole as you scream painfully at the intrusion.

she immediately sets an unforgiving pace, mercilessly pounding her throbbing member into your aching heat, holding you against her chest by your waist, your face in her shoulder as you sobbed in pain, the pleasure slowly creeping in. the girl behind you spits on her dick, spreading the saliva before forcing herself in you too, joining karina's relentless thrusting. tears flow from your eyes as bloodcurdling screams escape your already sore throat, the two demons' lengthy and girthy cocks tearing your tight cunt apart, drool leaking from your mouth as your brain abandons consciousness, completely broken and ruined from them fucking you.

winter pants against your ear as her hands sink into your hips, drilling you from behind, "you're gone now, aren't you doll? you've become our little cumslut to treat like a toy, haven't you?"

her words don't process in your fucked out head, nodding mindlessly to her question.

karina against you moans as your pussy squeezes around both of them, pushing in as winter pulls out, "taking us so well, little whore. that's right, be the good fucking slut you are and take it. take all of it."

they continue to absolutely annihilate your insides with their aggressive ramming, never stopping as they used your body like a sextoy, throwing you around like a ragdoll, pounding into you like you were just their property. the sound of wet skin slapping together and their loud, frustrated breathing filled your barely functioning auditory senses as you feel both of them stiffen against you, hot cum filling you, stuffing you full of their seed.

your lifeless body slumps against karina's front, winter holding you up as someone, unsure of who due to your barely conscious state, breathlessly comments against your ear, "we're far from finished, little one."

and they keep their word, not stopping the entire night, their split tongues working in tandem on each of your nipples, lapping at both of your holes as they seep pleasure, their cocks exploring every inch of your greedy orifices, letting you feel every bit of lust they harbor towards your mortal body. they fuck you until you break, until they ruin every part of you, until your begs and pleads grow silent, until time ceases to exist, the only thing in your sorry brain you can possibly process are karina and winter. and maybe when you're free, you'll thank aeri and yizhuo.

a/n: yeah their cocks probably have ridges and stuff but I didn't think about that while writing it, maybe next time <3 #welovemonstercock !!! can this even be classified as a short like this shit is long, oh whale

[evilminji]

Oh god? :D you know my on-going "and they were EXs~☆" StarWarsxDP fun?

....FORCE GHOSTS.

There is? NO CHANCE? That Danny can't see them. Of COURSE he can see the dead, blue, Space Monks! WORSE?? THEY can see HIM seeing THEM.

Target Acquired ( ◇.◇)

Why are you running? Why Are You RUNNING??!

Leave him aloooooone (T^T ) he's ALREADY been kidnapped by the literal manifestation of a celestial binding force! It was SPOOKY! He's in his PJs! Yeah, he wanted to see space!

BUT NOT LIKE THIIIIIIIIIISSSSS! *sobs in half ghost*

He is a Stressed Boy. Very Upset. This is, after all, rather quite a few magnitudes greater then the fruitloop kidnapping him. All HE knows? Is that ONE giant, terrifying entity? Was apparently? HIS? It was green. Ectoplasm Green. And PISSED.

Shouting in... not a language. It made his SOUL vibrate. Hurt. Like it was beyond comprehension and too heavy to hear. But mad? The grabby hand motions and lunging were very "give it back!"? And the BLUE one was scolding? Maybe?

He doesn't KNOW!

He wants an ADULT!

But not, like, any of the weird Space Hippy Monks who keep trying to talk to him about their Space religion! I DONT DO SPACE DRUGS, SPACE GHOSTS!!! Go AWAAAAAAY!!! (They will NOT. There is a lost, terrified, youngling in need of guidance. What kind of jedi would they BE if they did that? They follow along trying to make soothing noises and treat him like a frightened tooka.)

And honestly? I just want him to mess up the time line. Cause chaos. DEEPLY alarm some madolorians by flying in front of their ships windows in the VOID OF SPACE.

"IS THAT AN ADE?!" D:>

By the Time the Force thinks too, you know, CHECK on him? I want EVERYTHING on fire. But in a productive good way... maybe...

*Force steeples their fingers, breathes deeply* you know what? This is on me. I left him unsupervised. I KNEW he was half Ectoplasm, and I left him unsupervised anyway. I have only myself to blame.

[ghostdiva]

ok so the new trailer for episode 3 just dropped. big hype. here are some theory's, notes, and observations.

also I took a lot of screenshots...

anyway here we go.

so the adventure is set to be "The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor". Now, I do think that Caine is gonna be the quest giver this time, sending the gang to find something inside the spooky, probably haunted manor.

small guess is that they gotta find Matilda, one of the ghosts haunting the manor, and trap her in a vacuum. idk why, it's literally just a hunch.

Jax also takes a moment to harass Pomni with a vacuum, which just makes me think of Luigi's Mansion.

anyway, the gang (minus Zooble) are gonna go in the manor and try to find whatever they're looking for, and either by agreement or random set of events, the gang is gonna split up, Pomni and Kinger being paired up. I don't really know if Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stick together or not, as they're not really shown much in the trailer.

I am inclined to believe it is a set of events that separates the gang tho.

it's the one of the reasons I can think of that'd make Pomni climb on the door like that.

I mean... outside of the very spooky decorum.....

which Pomni has a pretty reasonable reaction to

btw, I fucking love Pomni's cartoon physics with the squash and stretch rubber-hose animation. it's so expressive and fun to watch.

anyway, it seems Caine is determined to have Zooble go on adventures. so he literally sits them down and tries to therapize them.

though with Caine being an AI with very little knowledge of how the human mind works, this goes predictably horribly.

I imagine Zooble tries on some level to convey to Caine the ludicrousness of their situation. stuck in a digital world getting repeatedly traumatized by meaningless adventures that seem to do more harm than good. though I get the feeling Caine would miss the point, leading Zooble to correct him, and/or get upset at him for not understanding. watching this verbal fight happen between these 2 will probably lead to us, the viewer, understanding more about Zooble.

anyway, back to the manor with this cute little guy.

look at him, he's so cute and squishable. unfortunately this guy is the only cute and squishable NPC here because Pomni and Kinger seems to really be going through it.

they're mostly poking around, opening drawers and stuff. maybe they're looking for a key to get back with the others or something? who knows.

they both probably stumble around in the dark for a bit, both figuratively and literally.

they might end up stumbling into an antagonist NPC, which is the only way I can explain some of these screenshots.

it looks to me like Kinger is facing something. I mean, He's missing an eye in the first one, smacking something with a gun in the second, and looking really worried in the third. Plus the fist 2 have similar lighting so I'm inclined to believe those 2 pics come from clips in close time frames to each other.

there's also another image that has similar lighting...

now... this may sound weird, but I think that either Pomni got Possessed somehow, or something tried to take her shape. Possession seems more feasible since we know at least 2 of the NPC's in this adventure are ghosts, and at least in media ghosts are known to possess people. seeing as digital circus seems to love pulling from video game mechanics, this wouldn't surprise me at all.

this would also kind of explain why in the "POMNI WAKE UP!! IT'S TIME TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE" video, in the "Kinger with a shotgun" clip, he seems to be hitting Pomni with the gun. it makes a lot more sense if Pomni ends up getting possessed somehow, forcing Kinger to hit her in order to defend himself from the ghost.

this also could tie back to the worried look on Kingers face in the screenshot before Possessed Pomni. Cause he'd know what he has to do, even though he doesn't want to hurt Pomni.

Hell, I'm pretty sure Kinger even openly protects Pomni in this episode.

because of the shot in the trailer taken from this hole's perspective

not only is Pomni hiding behind Kinger, but he has one of his hands out in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever is in that hole.

also in regards to guns, Kinger isn't the only one who gets to have a gun.

Pomni gets to wield a shotgun too, and it's likely to help both herself and Kinger fight off whatever was after them in the hole.

Ghost possession and gun-slinging aside, I do think that Pomni and Kinger have a little heart to heart in this episode.

boy doesn't that screenshot look familiar. reminds me of episode 2 with the blue lighting and concerned expression on Pomni's face. That scene in the test room where Pomni comforts Gumigoo. this time tho, she's comforting Kinger. it almost makes me wonder if this will be a reoccurring theme, with all the other characters eventually having a heart to heart with Pomni, and Pomni comforting them.

it'd really make her live up to her quote in episode 2 "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anyone to feel like that".

the only thing I do still have questions about, is wtf is Kinger looking at here?

I mean, it looks like the eyes of a ghost, if they could make their eyes glow like that.

ya know what, maybe he's looking at a mound of pillows or something.

yeah, like that.

[mire1li]

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 3

So I took a little while oops Part 1!, Part 2!

𓋼 You brush his hair every morning. He pretends to find it annoying but he secretly loves it.

Whenever you'd brush his hair, you'd sometimes mention how short it was and that you couldn't do any hairstyles with it, which, on one hand, was good for his pride, but on the other hand, made you sad which also made him slightly sad. So he made the very rational decision to grow his hair out for you so that you could style it one day!

"Alastor, is your hair longer than before?"

"Hm? Is it?" he would never admit he did it for you! 𓋼 At one point, you were in the lobby with everyone else and you started wondering about Alastor's ears since he never actually mentioned anything, of course, you remembered Charlie's constant pleading to pet him, to which he always refused with his typical "Ha! No.", which made you more curious, if perhaps you could get away with it as his mother.

So, only naturally, you placed your hand atop his head and pet him, his ears lightly twitching. Charlie squealed. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh! Can I do that too?!" she asked

"Haha! Absolutely not."

She wasn't very happy. She ended up pouting the entire day, Vaggie having to comfort her. To Charlie, it was like someone telling her not to pet a cute cat! Absolutely heartbreaking 𓋼 On that specific day, you also asked if he had a tail, and considering he had ears, it would make sense for there to be a tail too. Of course, silly Alastor was too embarrassed to answer in front of everyone, so he avoided the question!

"You're very positive today, Mother, did something good happen?"

"Nothing in particular, so about your tail-!"

"That's for me to know and you to… maybe, find out, Mother!"

You asked him about it again when you two weren't around the others, so he decided to show you! it was a nice revelation. 𓋼 You noticed that the shadow Alastor has following you around all the time, sometimes disappears, so you used that opportunity to go meet Lucifer as he invited you for tea countless times, and who are you to decline such a kind invitation?

When Alastor realised he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel, he panicked and searched every inch of it multiple times, until Vaggie had finally had enough and asked him what happened.

"What are you doing, Alastor?"

"Searching for my Mother! She's gone missing, you see!" of course, he had a menacing look on his face.

"She mentioned she was going out for a while"

"Oh? And did she say… where?"

"Nope, well anyway, good luck!"

Yeah, Vaggie just left him. So he waited for you patiently at the hotel entrance. When you finally returned, he clung to you like his life depended on it, asking you many questions. 𓋼 I feel like whenever the Overlords had important, confidential, meetings, Alastor would immediately return to the hotel and tell you all about them, whether it be out of spite or fun. You definitely enjoyed knowing all the things going on in hell. 𓋼 You and Niffty put makeup on him when he was asleep and pinned his hair back (Alastor was pretending to sleep, just letting you two do your thing). Angel started laughing and giving him silly nicknames when he saw his hair, which inevitably caused him to shake his head very fast, removing the pin from his hair. 𓋼 Your first birthday with everyone. Of course, Alastor threw you a party. It was meant to be a surprise but considering he’s always with you, you found out because he was more secretive than before (you managed to guilt-trip him into telling you what he was hiding) 𓋼 For Christmas (if you celebrate it), you decorate Alastor with Christmas lights! He says he hates it but he definitely doesn’t, although it certainly made him a little bit scarier when he did that spooky thing with his eyes!

"Mother. Please do explain again why you decided to put christmas lights on me."

"You're more colourful this way!" you turned the lights on, so that now they were switching between multiple colours

Angel and Niffty ended up hanging a few baubles on his antlers too, before he noticed. 𓋼 Charlie had asked about your time alive so you began telling her, and everyone else who was listening, about some silly stories! When Alastor came into the lobby and heard you telling an embarrassing story about him, his ears lightly twitched and flattened against his head. He was just a little bit embarrassed.

Of course, he tried to leave again, unnoticed, however, the all-too bubbly charlie saw him and invited him to join.

"Alastor! [Name] was just telling us stories, come join us!"

"No"

"Alastor, darling, Charlie is being very kind! You need to be around these souls more! Come join."

Of course, he can't say no to you, so he ended up sitting by your side as you continued to tell the story about him, you lightly pet him and hugged him from time to time. Although his ears still stayed flat against his head. 𓋼 You wanted to make a flower crown, but since no flowers actually existed in hell, you had to make do with other things (paper). Yes, you made paper flowers and then turned them into a makeshift flower crown, which you then placed on top of Alastor's head.

"Mother?"

"Darling, I made you a paper flower crown!" 𓋼 Alternatively, you may've decided to sneak out again to find Lucifer.

"Luci, can you sneak us into Heaven?"

"Heaven?! Why?"

"I need flowers"

"Why would you need flowers?"

"To make Alastor a flower crown!"

Yeah, he wasn't too excited about that idea but he still agreed, although it did take a bit of… bribery…

"I'll… give you a kiss if you agree!"

"Let's go!" he opened the portal immediately and took you with him.

In the end, you got all the flowers you needed (after being chased out by Lute and Adam), so you were both��� somewhere in hell, for sure.

"So… about what you said, before I got us into Heaven…"

"Oh, right!" You never specified where you'd kiss him so you simply kissed his cheek, he was a little disappointed but it's alright, you got Alastor a lovely flower crown! 𓋼 I feel like he would've been very afraid of spiders when he was alive, and then you were left with the task to exterminate any that entered your home (whether or not you were also afraid) 𓋼 You were quite a fan of new technology (though not completely obsessed), it made life far easier for you, though Alastor always 'confiscated' everything when he was around as he wasn't too keen on it.

"Mother, I don't see what you like about this device so much."

"It's simple to use and makes things quite a bit simpler than back when we were alive."

"I think it's pointless."

"Yes, you've always been a fan of radio… I see that obsession has stuck, even after death"

"It is not an obsession, Mother. I prefer 'fascination'!"

[donutz]

yeah fs! It would be alr if you did one where reader continuously like rub Catnap's ears! ^.^

Okay! ^_^

Catnap x touchy(not weirdly) reader

—☆You are a human in this

Being a little kid, who’s an orphan, at a big place with a bunch of toys can make you quite interested in things. There’s a lot to explore, people to meet, toys to see, and a bunch of colors to look at.

When you’re basically living in this factory, you can get bored. Even with everything that’s going on.

But if you’re being taken care of by some toys? You can’t really get bored.

Especially at 5 years old.

There’s these animals, called Smiling Critters. And they take care of you! They all love and cherish you. You were shy, but they really brought out your social side.

Anyways let me stop rambling, there was this cat. That cat didn’t interact with the children, unless it was bedtime. But during the day, he was gone.

Well, not completely. Sometimes he was but you have no idea where he was at those times. When he was actually here, just not interacting with kids, you’d always see him in a high place. Watching everybody.

But when you stare at him for too long, he moves. Yet you still find him every single time.

You wished he didn’t run away from you :(.

Since you’re a good kid, you went to sleep at the times you were supposed to.

But since he came out when you’re supposed to sleep. One night, you decided to stay up and roam the halls.

“Why are you gonna stay up?”

“Because I wanna see the kitty!” You whispered to your friend.

“What kitty?”

“The one that comes out at night!”

Your friend was a little wary after hearing that, they didn’t know that!

“That’s spooky…”

“Well I like cats!”

“Are you gonna come with me?”

They shook their head, making a mumbled, ‘auh auh’ (Idk, I tried my best trying to give that a word)

“I’m too sleepy…”

“Okay!”

Then, after that you waited, until it was bedtime. You opened the door, looking at both sides, making sure there wasn’t any other critter lurking around.

Then, you stepped out.

It was quite cold in the halls, but it was fine you had your robe, long pants and slippers.

You looked back one second, turned around and there he was!

You let out a gasp, “Kitty!” And gave him a hug.

He looked at you, processing. Why were you hugging him?

Whatever. You needed to sleep. But they said to not use the gas. He doesn’t care about what they say, but he didn’t want to give you nightmares.

Plus, you were pretty warm.

So to not let go of that warmth, he picked you up.

“Oh! Kitty you’re so strong—!” He looked up at you, carrying you with one arm, he put a finger over his wide smiling mouth.

“Oops, sorry.. ^_^” He carried you over to your room, wait. Where was your room?

Great, now he had to ask.

“Where’s… Your room..?”

“Oh, I don’t know!”

.

.

.

“O-kay.”

He could take you up to the ‘adults’ but—

You started petting his ears. “Your ears are so fluffy!” You said while whispering.

Out of his control,(kind of) he started purring. You let out another gasp, “You purr too?”

“...”

“You really are a kitty!”

Fun fact, you loved cats.

Another one, you just might be his favorite kid.

Since he didn’t want to take you to the adults, and didn’t know your room number(even if your friend tells you multiple times) he took you to his critter room. Even if no kids were allowed in there.

All of the critters were asleep, except for him, of course.

He placed you on his bed, and went on it too.

And he stared. Waiting for you to sleep.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name kitty?”

“... Theo…”

“(°〇°), Theo.. That’s a cool name..”

He got off his bed and started to leave. Because of this, you did it too, and followed him. Though he knew you were doing this he didn’t stop.

He randomly sped up and ran to another place. It was so abrupt, you weren’t able to catch up!

By the time you turned a corner, he was gone. But his lavender scent wasn’t. You followed and followed it. 

Until it led to the school. Even if you’re not supposed to go there at bedtime, you wanted to catch up with Theo.

And you can want to catch up with Theo at any time!

Oh great! You found him!

But he was bigger. Lankier. He wasn’t the smaller and plush cat you just saw.

That’s still Theo.

So you didn’t care, you followed and followed, until it led you to a big play area, with different colored soft blocks used as a structure.

This place is really big. Anyways, Theo!

You saw him go to this smaller area, you went inside and saw him. Sitting, bending over just to see you.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, raising your hands in celebration.

Of course, you gave him a big hug.

“That was a nice game of tag! But I’m sleepy…”

Theo used his long tail to grab you, gently. He brought you to his bed, and sat you there.

“Oof!” Then he wrapped himself around you, cuddling against you.

You turned around and laid against him.

“You’re so warm, Theo.” You softly held his tail. And as you went to sleep, you could hear a loud purr.

.

.

.

After that, you found Theo every time he was hiding, but instead of just looking you called his name.

But every time you did, he left.

A day after that he told you to not call him out. Just stare at him. But when he’s down, actually on the ground, you could come to him, but call him Catnap.

He doesn’t want them to get mad at him again.

And now almost routinely, because sometimes you wanted to just sleep, you went out of your room at bedtime just to see him.

It got so bad that he even allowed you to just hug, rub his ears, and play with his tail whenever.

He even started coming down even more. Just for you.

The critters noticed, Dogday even asked about it but Theo stayed silent.

You were special. Special to him.

Even after all these years. Even after getting adopted. Even after you arrived.

Coming back to the place that was once called home.

[tieronecrush]

🎃 trick or treat 🎃

summary: it's halloween and joel's taking your girls trick-or-treating with you in a family costume. feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and his skin, he's on edge most of the evening but does his best to disguise it in order to not spoil the fun. back at home, when his girls lightheartedly tease him about everything he already thought about himself, you're sure to end the night showing joel exactly how you feel about him and his body.

wc: 10k (oops?)

warnings: established relationship/married, canon divergent (no outbreak, ellie & sarah are both his kids, sort of obscure with if they're both his bio kids/your kids - basically y'all are a cute lil family either way! also joel is ~40, no age mentioned for reader!), halloween, family/group costumes, DOMESTIC JOEL!!!, fluff, body insecurities, age insecurities, joel has minor sensory issues?, his kids poke fun at him, sensitive joel, SMUT. it kind of is a thing for the basically the second half, descriptions of joel's body, tummy & thigh worship, oral (m receiving), cowboy rule (for a costume), unprotected piv, lowkey sub!joel for a lil bit, reader is "giving cunt" according to bestie el, then quickly gets back to dom!joel as he gets his confidence back, joel gets that strength in an adrenaline rush that moms get lifting cars off babies but his is for chasing a nut, also, dirty talk!

a/n: my contribution to spooky season, basically at the buzzer lol. this started with me thinking how cute it would be for joel to dress up and go trick-or-treating with his kids, and ended with wanting to s*** his d*** big time. anyways, enjoy my version of halloween with joel, and thank you to @kiwisbell for screaming about this scenario with me and as always a big thanks to my sweet, sweet girlfriend @northernbluess for beta-ing!!!!

Brought on much later than the northern states, fall in Texas is not quite an impactful sight. The one thing that can’t be beaten though is the Texas sun; shining across expansive horizons all times of year, temperatures of the light shifting with the seasons. Orange evening sun stretches across the sky and seeps down in between the leaves speckled with changing colors while Joel’s truck coasts down the neighborhood street. Kids retreat from running around in the road when his car approaches, returning right back to their gameplay when he’s through. Half are dressed up, a medley mix of witches, zombies, vampires, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney Princesses, and countless outfits that he has no idea what they’re referencing.

Fibrous, white faux spiderwebs litter the front porches of the houses lining the street, Jack-O-Lanterns carved and lit up stack on the stairs or create a path along the front walkways. Some of the pumpkins’ faces are wrinkly and sagging, signs of overeagerness from when the fall season started earlier this month. A handful of scarecrows find themselves pitched in the middle of yards with hay spilling out of them, and some of the houses have turned out an expense to get those motion-sensor decorations — the ones really intended to scare the kids that will be unleashed on the neighborhood to trick-or-treat this evening.

Rolling to a stop as he turns into the asphalt driveway, throwing the truck in park, he sits in the cab for a still moment, staring at the signs of life scattered around his family’s house. Four pumpkins, gutted and showing off their faces, a family feud that reached a compromise when it was decided that yes, they would carve pumpkins but no, they would not sit to rot on the front porch all month long; the corn stalks wrapped around the posts of the porch, tied with burlap twine and arranged with sprigs of fall foliage; pots of colorful mums framing the path up to the house, carefully selected by your eye and less delicately planted in their terracotta vessels by Joel’s hands. 

Aside from the seasonal decorations, the usual markings of the Miller family were easily spotted: chalk drawings on the shared sidewalk in front of the yard and along the driveway, replaced every weekend by Sarah once the old was washed or worn away; Ellie’s bike discarded on the front lawn, small tire tracks digging up the grass, no matter how many times Joel and you have asked her to put it away when she’s done; the porch swing that Joel built for you, swaying in the breeze and now unoccupied — unusual for the evening routine around the time that Joel comes home from work. He’s normally greeted by his girls, not merely their artifacts. But tonight is a different night, much busier than the slow, molasses life Joel gets to enjoy in the colder weather.

Gathering his lunch bag from the bench seat and bunching up his jacket in the same hand, Joel climbs out of the car and walks into the open garage, leaving his tools behind in the flatbed to be dealt with tomorrow morning. Passing your parked car, he shakes his head with a subtle smile as he closes the driver’s side door of your SUV left open. He can picture you now, running around after picking the girls up from school, mental space occupied by getting everything and everyone together to make it out the door before the sun went down completely. 

There’s a trail of evidence to support his musings: a lonesome plastic bag filled with groceries left on top of the car, Sarah’s purple jacket looped through the handle of the garage fridge, probably left behind after she went looking for a juice, and Ellie’s army green backpack tossed on the ground in front of the shoe racks lining the wall next to the door. None of that would fly had you been your usual focused self — more often than not, you’re the parent to put their foot down and keep the girls in line while Joel is the total pushover.

Along his way inside, he picks up all the left-behind items, balancing everything in his hands while he steps into the mudroom. Ellie’s backpack gets shoved into her designated cubby, and Sarah’s jacket gets wrapped on a hook screwed into the wall as Joel kicks off his work boots. After depositing his own belongings in their spots, lunch bag in his cubby and jacket on the hook next to Sarah’s, he grabs his boots in one hand, leaning out the doorway to place them on top of the shoe rack. Closing the door behind him, he picks up the singular bag of groceries left on top of your SUV and pads across the tile further into the house. Immediately, he’s embraced by the warmth radiating from the kitchen, the smells of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more wafting into his nose causing a smile to stretch across his face and his stomach to rumble. 

Every year that he’s known you, without fail, you use Halloween night as an excuse to cook up your family-favorite chili recipe. Sure, it doesn’t get too cold for October in Texas, but damn, does he look forward to the night every year simply for a bowl of it. Laboring over the prep and slow-cooking it all day long, anyone who tries it can taste the care in each bite; like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders that lasts with him for the entire evening spent outside with the kids.

The pleas of his stomach lead him straight into the kitchen, his smile growing wider when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, affixing a sheriff badge to the cow print vest laid out in front of you. He strides over to your side, resting his palm on your lower back and swiping his thumb against the material of your shirt while he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head, drinking in your scent and feeling the ache of missing you all day. Losing focus from your task, you turn toward him with a bright smile, a quiet sigh leaving your lips, and your shoulders relaxing from their tensed position. Wordlessly, he folds forward, catching your lips in a lingering kiss. Heat pushes against his chest through his denim shirt, your hands skating from his pecs, up and across his shoulders, and down his arms to rest on his biceps. The motions raise goosebumps in their wake, trailing down his spine with a tepid drip.

Joel steals another kiss before he stands up straight again, voice rasping from yelling over powerful tools all day and volume low to keep the semblance of a private moment between the two of you for as long as possible; anything louder would expose his arrival, bombarding him with questions and conflicts to resolve between his daughters.

“Hey, baby.” He greets you with one fleeting kiss pressed to your forehead, hand at your lower back now rubbing side to side, fingers carefully lifting the fabric and pressing the tips of them into your deliciously soft skin. 

Turning back to the vest, you drop your hands from his arms not before giving them a gentle squeeze, “Hi, Joel. Good day?”

He shrugs, unable to step away from you just yet, “It was fine — much better now. And I take it yours has been a busy one?”

Joel holds up the plastic bag of groceries with two fingers, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. His hip pops out as he leans against the counter, the smirk turning into a smile when you grimace. His heartbeat skips when your laugh fills his ears, the sound still exciting him after all these years, and you stand over the bag to take a peek inside.

“S’all good. Non-perishables.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle as he places the bag on the counter, unloading its contents into the pantry while you go about recapping your day for him.

In the midst of you speaking, the tumble of footsteps down the stairs draws his attention away, eyes focusing on the open threshold that leads from the living room into the kitchen. As the quickened steps grow closer, Joel turns to you and holds up three fingers, counting down with them. When he lowers his last finger, a mop of curly hair, a bouncing ponytail, and a whirlwind of chaos disrupts the initial peace of his return home.

“Hi girls, how was today?” he starts before a cacophony of noise fills the kitchen. Skidding to a stop in front of him, he exchanges a look with you before facing his daughters, already overwhelmed with their two voices talking over the other.

“Dad, Dad, Sarah said—”

“Dad, Ellie’s saying that I said—”

Holding his hands up, he flicks his eyes between his two girls. Sarah, the older of the two at eleven years old, stands in front of him with her arms crossed and brow furrowed — a look he is all too familiar with, the similarities between him and her emphasized with her annoyance. Ellie, your youngest, stands with her fists clenched at her sides, her mouth twisted up in frustration and the same furrowed brow as her sister. She looks so much more like you at the moment, only a nine-year-old version, calling back on times Joel can remember of you giving him that very look.

However, with their tempers, there’s no doubt that they’re his kids.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath before addressing them.

“So, what’s going on now?” he asks, brows raising and head tilting when the girls each take a sharp inhale, about to speak over each other again, “One at a time. Ellie.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at her younger sister being called upon first, expectantly looking at her sister with annoyance still painting her face. Ellie shoots her a smug look before turning back to Joel, drawing a pout onto her lips to sell her story. He can’t say it doesn’t work for a second, it always will with these two and they know it, but with a quick glance in your direction, he sees you turned away from your task, watching the drama from the sidelines. Mustering the strength to stand his ground against the sweetness of his girls, he clears his throat and listens with his best poker face as Ellie begins explaining.

“Sarah said she wouldn’t trade all her Skittles for my Three Musketeers even though she knows I hate Three Musketeers and she said last week when we were getting our costumes that she would—”

“I never said that, Dad! She’s lying—” Sarah gestures with her hands as if to physically point out the obvious falsehoods in Ellie’s story. Spiraling back out of the fleeting control he had over the situation, the kids get riled up again, yelling over each other, and inching closer. The dad-instincts kick in and he grabs one of each of their shoulders, separating the two of them and turning them to face him again as he puts on what you affectionately call his ‘no-bullshit’ voice.

“Okay, okay, okay! Enough arguin’ about candy that you don’t even have yet. Ellie, you don’t even know if a single house is gonna give ya Three Musketeers, and you don’t even know if Sarah is gonna get any Skittles. Save the trade negotiations for tonight or tomorrow morning. ‘Sides, you gotta pay the Dad Tax before either of y’all get to trade around your pickings.”

“What?”

“No way!”

Joel smiles, waving his pointer finger between his daughters with a single nod of his head. “See? Something y’all can agree on. Now go get washed up for dinner and plot how you can hide your candy from me and Mom.”

As quickly as they came in, they rush right back out, this time a united force scheming against their parents. Joel huffs out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself as he turns back to face you. Met with a growing smile, you unravel your arms crossed in front of your chest to pick up the vest from the counter.

“Nice conflict resolution there, hon. Now I won’t see a single piece of candy.” You throw a pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as he steps over to you, one hand splaying on your hip and thumb rubbing languid circles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I think I know every single one of their hiding spots from how many times they had to move their candy last year. They won’t even notice anything's gone.” With a quick wink, he leans in for a kiss, short and sweet. Standing up straight, the smile on your face mirrors his, your left index finger reaching up to fit into the valley of his dimple.

“Are we bad parents to be scheming how to steal from our children?” you question, biting back a laugh.

“I think that’s just part of parenting, darlin’.”

The laugh you held back escapes you, rolling your eyes playfully at his facetious answer; the vest in your hands catches his eyes again, and he sighs to himself as he holds a hand out for it.

“So you really did find a cow print vest for me? How lucky.” Sarcasm coats his tone and you lift the material, depositing it in his open palm.

“It is lucky, isn’t it? I think you’re going to look great in your costume. Got all the perfect parts, plus you can wear your own jeans and boots. Economical.”

“You sure you need me for this group costume?”

“Joel. You’re literally one of the main characters from the damn movie. And the girls really want you to dress up and take them trick-or-treating. Plus it’s probably going to be one of, if not the last year that we get to do all this as a family. Our kids are growing up.”

“Don’t remind me, means m’getting older too,” he grumbles under his breath, eyes falling to the fabric in his hand.

It’s true what they say about having kids: the days are long, but the years are short.

At times, Joel wishes he could pull each hair out of his head instead of dealing with the shit his kids bring to him sometimes — “Dad, I got called into the principal’s office.” “Dad, I threw a softball and broke the window.” “That’s so unfair, Dad! Why do you have to be so mean?” It’s easy to get lost in the mess that is his family, but it’s a mess he loves. It feels like it was only yesterday that he was becoming a father when Sarah was born, getting a grasp on the whole thing and then Ellie came along. What he would do without you there by his side, he doesn’t have a clue.

Like flipping through a scrapbook, he can remember every year prior for his girls. In a flash, they’ve grown from dressing up as princesses and unicorns — a dragon for Ellie — to being Spy Kids and vampires. His oldest is verging on becoming a teenager, and if he knows his daughters, he knows that once Sarah quits dressing up each year, when she asks to go to her friends’ houses instead of spending the night with Mom and Dad, Ellie will want to do the same as her older sister, always looking up to her despite their differences.

There’s only so much more time for his kids to be kids, even if they may always feel like the tiny baby girls he held in his arms. All he wants to do is to protect them, keep them under his eye as long as he can, but he can hear your voice prying his grasp away from them, encouraging him to let them grow, let them experience the world as he got to do when he was younger. You’ll remind him that you were a teenage girl once, reassuring him that they’re always going to need him. He knows it’s all going to sneak up on him; one day, he’s going to pull into the driveway and notice the lack of chalk drawings. He might even be happy at first about Ellie’s bike being put away, but when he goes into the garage to work on some of his projects, he’ll notice the smallest bit of dust on it from disuse.

Stepping away from him to shuffle across the kitchen, you reach on your tiptoes to pull out four bowls from the cabinet. Joel steps over behind you, a hand on your back as he intercepts your movements, grabbing the ceramic dishes and handing them to you.

Like a shadow, he follows behind you as you walk over to the pot filled with dinner, eagerly watching over your shoulder with his chest pressed against your back and hands on your waist as you lift the lift. Aromas waft with the steam rising, the delectably rich dish slowly bubbling as it finishes melding altogether. It smells like home, always the mark of the changing of the seasons in the Miller household, and one of the little traditions that he so appreciates you creating for your family. Just like the way you make crinkle cookies and still sign presents from Santa at Christmas, despite the fact that your daughters found out about that a couple of years ago from a yappy kid at school.

Joel was very close to driving over to his house and letting his parents know how he felt about their kid murdering the magic of Christmas for his girls.

All he can hope is that these little traditions continue even when the girls are grown up; the four of you gathering around the table for your annual chili dinner before they head off to hang out with friends and you two are left to watch cheesy Halloween movies and hand out candy to children that remind you of your daughters.

With another deep breath, warmth surrounds him. Joel’s lips find the spot just under your ear, kissing gently before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “Smells so good, baby. Have I told you how much I love you?”

A breathy, incredulous laugh falls from your lips as you stir the pot’s contents around, your smile sticking around as you counter, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

A dramatic, exaggerated gasp sharply inhales into his lungs, standing up straight and patting his hands on your sides, “Absolutely not, darlin’. I love you all the time—”

“But especially when I feed you,” you finish, turning out of his arms to grab the stack of bowls. He stops your motions by wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling the press of you against his torso and relishing in the heat of your body against his. Curling up like a cat in the sun, he nudges his nose against your hairline, peppering kisses along the contours of your face.

In between kisses, he says word by word, over and over, “I. Love. You. My. Beautiful. Wonderful. Incredible. Wife.”

“Alright, alright! Gosh, you’re clingy,” you tease, leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful glint in your eye and a smirk held tight in your lips, “I love you too, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible husband.”

Your free hand smooshes his cheeks together and tugs him down gently to exchange a tender kiss. It ends much too soon for Joel, him chasing your lips and pouting when you turn away to start serving up dinner.

“Better go tell the girls dinner’s ready before they’ve finished plotting how to stow away candy in the floorboards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, punctuating the conversation with a cheeky smack to your ass, scampering away quickly before you can pretend to scold him.

Tugging at the material across his stomach, Joel combs his eyes over his reflection in the mirror of your en-suite bathroom. Rolling his shoulders back, the fabric of the yellow and red plaid flannel pulled taut, lifting the hem a couple of inches and showing off the skin of his softened tummy. Dark curls of hair litter the center of the sliver of skin, trailing down under the waist of his dark wash jeans. He doesn’t bother tucking the shirt in, giving himself the breathing room of the few inches at the hem. Fingers grip the thick fabric, sharply pulling it back down to lay over his jeans again.

Picking up the cow-print vest you were adorned with the plastic gold Sheriff badge downstairs in the kitchen, he’s taken back to a few weeks ago at the Halloween store.

You and he had opted to spend Saturday morning taking Sarah and Ellie to pick out their costumes for the holiday, letting them run free until they decided on a shared costume for once. Sarah quickly picked out her size in the Jessie costume, and all of the family agreed to be different characters from the Toy Story movie.

Ellie wandered the aisles, searching for the perfect combinations to create her ideal costume, which was, of course, the mechanical spider toy with the baby doll head that the kid Sid builds in the film. She returns to where Joel is standing with you, staring at the walls of costumes to find something for the both of you; he looks down at his youngest, jumping minutely when he’s faced with a mutilated baby doll mask, shiny plastic reflecting him in the surface.

“Ellie. You can’t be the creepy baby doll,” he sighs, hand falling to his hip as he rests his weight on it, the other leg stepping out while he slowly shakes his head.

Tipping the mask up to the top of her head, Ellie stomps her feet, shoulders falling and head leaning back as she groans in complaint, “Why not, Dad?” She draws out his parental title, kicking the toe of her shoe against the buffed tiles of the storefront that remains empty eleven out of twelve months of the year.

“You’re gonna scare the little kids, and it’ll be your mom and I who are dealing with the angry parents.”

Ellie huffs out a breath, reaching up to snatch the mask off, turning on the heel of her sneaker, and stomping off to go find another costume. Turning his attention back to you at his side, he notices a cheeky smile on your face as you find your size in a woman’s Buzz Lightyear costume.

“What? What are you laughin’ at?” he questions, his lips tugging up in a grin.

“Oh, nothing. Jus’ that you told our daughter she can’t be the creepy baby doll 'cause you’d be the one scared of her.” A laugh takes over the end of your sentence, a flash of your bright smile widening his own.

“Did not. It’s ‘cause we’d have a bunch of crying little kids and judging parents to deal with.”

“Sure, honey, sure. It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Stepping closer to you, he pinches your side playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you against his side. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, speaking softly, “Know me too well, baby…”

Your free hand pats his chest affectionately and you unravel from his hold. Joel takes your hand before you get far, intertwining your fingers together while you both shuffle along the wall of costumes. The plastic bags shine, displaying cartoonish outfits of various characters. The exaggerated smiles of the models give him the heebie-jeebies, shuddering his shoulders at the thought that any grown person would be that excited to wear itchy polyester once before letting it collect dust in their closet and giving it away before next Halloween.

Halting in front of the costume you were looking for Joel, you bend down to flick through the sizes, your lips pulling together in a thoughtful pucker. Standing back up straight next to him, your teeth toy your bottom lip left to right, eyes scanning for any other options before you turn toward him.

“Can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, baby?”

With a shrug, you respond, “They have the costume the girls wanted you to wear, but they don’t have your size. Think I can find some stuff at the thrift store or TJ Maxx or online to make the costume up if that’s okay—”

“Whatever you need to do. S’fine.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but you don’t need to worry about it, I’ll find everything.”

“Said s’fine, darlin’. Don’t even need to dress up, really.” A small seed of shame is planted in his gut, insecurity watering it and causing it to grow, branching off to tangled in his chest. Comfort eases him out of the spiral when your hands find his chest, rubbing softly and tilting your head to meet his gaze with pure affection.

“Still gotta dress up with us, hon. Who’s gonna be the Woody to my Buzz if it isn’t you? Can’t dress up as one half of the best friend duo without my best friend,” you grin, standing on your toes to catch his lips in a gentle kiss, which ends too soon for his taste despite being in the middle of the shop.

Vest shrugged onto his shoulder, and he gives himself another once over in his full outfit, the same insecurity from a few weeks ago pouring down to cultivate his shame. He doesn’t look the same as he did when he met you, even the same as he did last year. Graying hair and salt and pepper beard, lines next to his eyes and across his forehead, only deepened when he furrows his brow at the look of him in his costume.

He looks ridiculous.

Better to get this night over with, let his girls enjoy themselves, and attempt to forget his discomfort in the outfit. Picking up his cheap cowboy hat that arrived in the mail earlier that week, he avoids another look in the mirror before he slips out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the toes of his boots while he walks out the door of your bedroom, past the full-length mirror next to your closet and the small round one on your vanity.

No need to foul his mood and spoil the fun. It’s for his girls. 

The screams and laughter of children echo into the deepening night sky, the street bright from the lamps lining it along with porch lights staying on, open garage doors, all signaling a welcoming to the trick-or-treaters to come and grab their haul from each vast bowl or cauldron of candy.

Blurs of costume cross below Joel’s sightline as he walks hand-in-hand with you, kids running around blindly, the safety of such a crowd in the small neighborhood blanketing them with trust that they’ll be able to find their way home wherever they end up. Sarah and Ellie are ten paces ahead, moving quickly and efficiently to “maximize their candy collection”. Ellie’s words, after she presented her hand-drawn map of their neighborhood and the one across the main road, highlighting which houses are notorious for King Size treats and noting which ones give out toothbrushes or nothing at all.

The collar of his flannel is tightened around his neck from the string of his chestnut cowboy hat. Pulled down to rest on his clavicle, the body of the hat swings against his back as he walks, only adorning the top of his head for a few photos that you insisted on dragging out the tripod and self-timer for in the middle of the living room. He took the rest of the photos you wanted, maybe a bit too eagerly getting out of the frame and relaxing the slightest bit behind the camera. Photo evidence of how laughable he looks does not need to exist en masse. With a sigh, he reaches a hand up to tug the string down for what feels like the tenth time in thirty minutes of walking, relief felt for a few seconds before it slides back up to the base of his throat, flipping up the collar of his shirt with it.

Denim from his dark wash bootcut jeans starts to dig into his hips, roughening the skin there from his strides and their inch-too-small size from the year prior. These were deemed his “nice” jeans, per your request, only pulled out a handful of times a year for occasions that he was meant to look nicer than his raggedy Levi’s, covered in spots from paint, wood stain, oil, or dirt, the fraying, white strings hanging from the hems and ripping when caught under his step — all the signs of his day-to-day life. What he’s comfortable in.

These — these are not comfortable, not worn in enough to feel buttery against his skin, and not returning to his size even after washing and line drying. These are stiff, formed to his skin and resisting a tightness with each swing of his legs. The fresh material rubs against his bare skin underneath, the waist of his boxers falling an inch or two down to create the perfect space for the waistband to chafe. He’s tempted to pause the two of you walking along, long enough to tuck in the material of the flannel, but quickly decides against it when he thinks about the exaggeration of his stomach with the form-fitting, tucked shirt stretched over it.

Occupied in his thoughts, he barely notices that you've slowed down until you come to a stop at the end of a driveway, two streets over from your own home, waiting as your daughters wait in line for their packaged sugar. 

You hold onto his bicep with your opposite hand, leaning your weight against his side. Like a weighted blanket, in the interim of a hug from you, he takes on the change to his equilibrium, relishing in the comforting press of your body against him. Easing away his anxieties and his insecurities that, of course, had to be present for this wholesome, once-a-year family night; he rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your rosemary and mint shampoo, tingling his nostrils and drinking down the scent he’s so familiar with.

His focus draws to Sarah, hair in a French braid pulled away from her face and cherry red cowboy hat on her head, and Ellie, lime green face paint that she insisted on and an antenna sticking up from the top of her head and exaggerated, pointed green ears all attached to the same headband. The two of them are near the front of the queue for candy at this particular house, the process a bit more involved with a haunted graveyard required to pass through to earn your sweet reward. 

All she’d been saying the whole night since getting dressed had been “The claaaaaw!” or “I have been chosen!”. She screams the latter in the face of a teenager who pops out from a bush to scare her, completely unphased as she sneaks past him, grabbing a handful of candy for her and Sarah, running back down the path with her older sister before they pause to distribute the goods.

Joel lifts your joined hands, hooking his arm over your shoulder and laying your arm across your chest as he gathers you closer.

“So how many cavities do you think we’ll be paying for ‘cause of tonight’s candy haul?” he wonders aloud, a smile ticking up the side of his mouth when you giggle at his joke. It never gets old, being able to make you laugh, and it’s like a weed whacker to the strangling vines of his insecurities growing tightly in his chest. A looseness that gives him the chance for a deep breath, gratitude wilting the branches as he studies the grin on your face, the admiration twinkling in your eyes.

“Probably should be callin’ the dentist to see if they have a two-for-one discount.” It’s his turn to laugh at your response, tautening his arm around your shoulders to tow you closer to him, your head tilting back as you swing your front toward him. Joel bends his neck, pecking your lips with a smile before he looks back toward his daughters walking back to the two of you.

Annoyance thumbs the bruise of shame, driving his frustrations higher; his hand reaches up again with a huff, yanking the string away from his neck, “Thing’s like a damn noose…”

“Jus’ take it off, hon, I’ll carry it for you,” you sweetly suggest, swinging your joined hands between your bodies.

“But, you got it for me…” he mumbles guiltily, a worry in his voice over your potential irritation with him. Ever the masochist, Joel argues with you, not wanting to disappoint. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut—

Pausing in your steps, you hang behind him long enough to snatch the hat off his back, releasing it from around his neck and depositing it on your head in one smooth movement. Taking his hand again, you continue, unphased by his complaints and happy to hold onto the new accessory.

At the next house, the two of you wait at the end of the driveway for the girls; Joel taps the side of his pointer finger on the brim as you look up at him, a cheeky smile growing on his face as a thought distracts from his festering doubts. His voice lowers, rasping as he speaks only to you, attempting to disguise the conversation from all the people milling about.

“Y’know, there are consequences for stealing a cowboy’s hat, baby.” Wetting his lips with the quick swipe of his tongue, his hands drift to your waist, fingers stretching to skim the top of your ass, dangerously close to grabbing a handful in front of everyone.

“M’well aware of those consequences, cowboy. Why d’you think I took it?” You shoot him a wink that goes straight down below the belt, a brazen flash of mischief in your eyes, the reflections of yellow lamplight lighting them up further. 

Gripping his biceps, your nimble fingers squeeze gently while your thumbs rub massaging circles into his slightly flexed muscles. A nearly inaudible hum of a moan rolls from your chest, one of his hands gathering the polyester material of your dress tightly at the sound. Beckoning him to fold forward with one look, he molds his lips to yours in a supple kiss. It lasts only the length of an inhale, drinking in the taste of your lips before your warmth is fleeting, hands patting his chest in a signal to wrap it up.

He grumbles, irritation heating under his collar as he itches to get home and for the night to be over, now for more than one reason. You laugh softly at his annoyed pout, poking his chest as you tease, “What? Mad ‘cause you got a snake in your boot?”

“More like in my jeans…” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and playfully jab his arm, shaking your head as you breathe out a chuckle from your nose.

“Nice, Miller. In a costume for a kid’s movie no less.”

He matches your laugh, shrugging when you turn in his arms, back to him as you await your daughters to make their way back to the both of you. His arms drape around your hips, tugging you into his chest to press against him comfortably, the plush-filled wings of your costume padding you against his torso. Lips find your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he responds, “What’s the saying from the movie? To infinity and beyond? Reckon that’s where I’ll be takin’ you by the end of tonight.”

“Joel!” you attempted to chide, your laughter exposing your real feelings over the suggestive comment, laying your arms over his. The girls walk toward the two of you, and he takes a second to press an open-mouth kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin before unfurling himself from you. A light smack on the side of your ass is the punctuation to the teasing, Joel standing up straight and taking your hand.

“Giddy-up, partner,” he murmurs before turning his attention to Sarah and Ellie, overly excited and completely calm. “Whatcha y’all get this time? Anything good?”

They answer over each other and he nods along, corralling them to start to walk to the next house, “Alright, mission accomplished at this house. Onto the next, we gotta get this wagon a-movin’! Only got another hour in me, girls.”

Protests whine against his announcement and your daughters start to walk faster, determined to complete their hit-list for the houses with the good stuff. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as Joel looks over at you, feigning innocence.

“What? Got a bad back, bein’ out in the cold makes it worse.”

Now back at home, the four of you are gathered in the living room, costumes all on still as you seek out the comfort and warmth of the soft furnishings and blankets. Joel lounges on the couch, you next to him, back leaning against his side while your legs stretch out on the rest of the sofa. Ellie and Sarah have taken to the floor in front of the coffee table, massive pillowcases dumped out and beginning to be sorted. Every so often, you or Joel get up with the sound of the doorbell, passing out candy to the dwindling number of trick-or-treaters. Eventually, the intrusion stops completely, the TV playing a bad, kitschy Halloween movie per the request of the girls.

They trade their earnings, and you and Joel steal on the sly, both from the bowl you were handing out and from Sarah and Ellie’s piles. Wrappers are strewn around the floor and across the surface of the coffee table, the sound of another torn open by the girls making you sigh and sit up.

Holding out your hand, you shake your head, beckoning for the treat with your fingers, “Okay, Ellie. No more candy. You’re not going to be able to go to sleep if you keep eating it now, it’s too late.”

Ellie whines, rolling her head back with a groan before pleading her case, “Please, Mom, just this last one! And then I’ll be done, promise. Please.”

Joel chuckles when she shoots you the same puppy dog eyes that he gives to you to get what he wants, knowing his smirk grows wider when you fold easily. Shooting your head over to him, you announce to the whole room, “No more candy for anyone. C’mon girls, put it all back in your bags.” 

Calmness finds itself back in the room once all the complaints are lodged with you, the girls lying down to watch the movie while you continue to sit with Joel. Spaced out as he focuses on the film, his attention is grabbed when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and glances around to find all three of his girls indulging further.

With the remote from his lap, he pauses the movie, pouting as he exclaims, “Hey! What happened to not havin’ any more candy? If I can’t have anymore, y’all can’t either.”

Sneaking the last bite of her fun-size Snickers bar, Ellie giggles and shrugs, always the smart aleck, “Well, you are gettin’ a little pudgy, Dad, maybe less candy’ll help.”

Sarah and you giggle at her lighthearted teasing, and Joel waves it off with a breathy chuckle, leaning back against the cushions as Sarah chimes in with her jests, “Yeah, think you’re getting a little fluffy, Dad. Better to lay off now than at Christmastime with all Mom’s cookies.”

Joel attempts to defend himself from the teasing by threatening their candy supply, eager to end the conversation as the back of his neck heats up, “If m’already gettin’ pudgy then I guess that permits me to eat all your candy.”

They both are in a fit of giggles, continuing to tack on silly comments as Joel sits quietly on the couch, trying to mask the way the words worm their way in, feeding the shame and insecurity that was already festering in his chest from the last few weeks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a smile as you laugh softly, “Alright, alright, enough. Think that’s the sign that it’s time for bed. C’mon, up up up.” Before standing, you pat Joel’s thigh and shoot him a carefully concerned look, but he wipes away your worry by sending you a warm smile back, laying his hand over yours and squeezing gently. 

Joel stays downstairs to clean up, the girls both saying goodnight before you follow them upstairs to get them ready for bed. Gathering candy wrappers in his fists, he throws them away in the kitchen, stomach rolling as he replays the small comments from minutes ago. He knows it was teasing, all in good fun as it always is between his girls and you, but he can’t shake the heaviness inside of him, the hot prickles of shame when he passes by the mirror in the hallway on his way back to the living room.

The bowl of extra candy you were handing out gets placed back on the coffee table, his silly cowboy hat from the evening deposited on top of it to hide the contents. Not that he was going to eat anymore, he couldn’t stomach even the thought of anything else when all he could think about was how much he desperately wanted to shed his skin at that moment. Breathing shallows when he settles on the couch again, one of his hands pressing onto the left side of his chest and willing his heart to slow down, for his brain to silence itself.

The skin of his palm meets the scruff of his beard, scratching against the roughened, worked skin. Grays in his hair, salt and pepper beard, wrinkles on his forehead and at the side of his eyes, softened tummy from years of love and care, from an easy life with you.

He certainly isn’t the same Joel that you met all that time ago, that you fell in love with. Have you noticed the changes as much as he has?

He swears you haven’t aged a day; all the more beautiful with each passing day.

Light steps carry you back downstairs, the sound shaking Joel out of his thoughts as you swing around from the staircase and through the entrance to the living room. Joel relaxes on the couch, the same spot he was occupying before, only sinking further into the cushion, shifting to pull the fabric of his shirt away from his stomach. Glancing up at you, away from whatever was playing on the TV that did nothing to distract him from himself, he sends you a tight smile, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to welcome you in.

Accepting it, you sit next to him, curling up into his side with your legs under you, leaning against his frame with your comforting weight. Your hand rests on his chest, your head on his shoulder while you both watch the TV movie playing. Silence falls between the two of you, minutes passing by with only the noise from the speakers, the volume turned low so as not to disturb the kids upstairs.

Joel feels your hand move against his chest, curling up to leave your pointer finger extended, the pad of it skimming against his flannel. He ignores the feeling, figuring it’s you fidgeting as you do while you focus. The same thing as twirling your hair while you’re reading, tapping your foot as you cook.

But when your hand stairs to wander, his eyes flick down to watch its path, your gaze still facing forward and quiet. With your thumb and index finger, you work open the first button on his shirt, trailing down with the rest undone in your route. Slipping under the material, your cold hand presses against his chest, nails scraping against the skin there. With a sigh at the contact, Joel finally uses his hand to gently caress your chin, turning you to face him.

Low and rasping, he questions, “What are you doin’ exactly, darlin’?”

Innocently, you shrug, bottom lip bit down on while your touch moves lower again, skimming across his stomach and reaching the waistband of his jeans, “Well, I still have to face the consequences from stealin’ your hat, cowboy.”

Fingers dip below his belt line, toying with the elastic band of his boxers. Slipping away, he almost protests at the loss, biting his tongue when you move next to him, sitting up on your knees while both hands reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. When his button pops from its secure place, he warns with a breathy exhale, “Baby…”

“Mhm, yes, honey?” you reply, words trailing up at the end, feigning naivety. Through your lashes, you send him a pout, tongue poking out to dampen your plush lips that he stares at, his mouth parted with heavy breaths. His blood is rushing from his head, leaving him feeling light, as it all pumps to his cock, your delicate and teasing touches getting him half-hard.

Before you can tug down his zipper, you pause, taking your hands off of him; he holds back a whimper, the sound dying as a low hum in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’not done yet. Let’s go to our room, yeah?” Your voice is soothingly saccharine, an eager nod being his only response. 

Shutting off the TV, you stand from the sofa and take his hand, snatching the cowboy hat from the coffee table before pulling him to stand and follow you across the main floor, down the hallway into your first-floor bedroom. Joel shuts the door behind him, your nod toward the handle serving as a reminder for him to flick the lock.

 “Y’know, honey, you’re always showing me how you feel about me. I think it’s time we had a night that’s all about you…” He’s holding in a breath as you stalk closer to him, shaking his head as the back of his neck heats up.

“No, baby, you don’t—I don’t…” he stutters before trailing off, ashamed that he can’t think of any other excuse than the truth of why he does not want the attention on him tonight.

“You don’t…?” Running your hands across the expanse of his chest, he drops his shoulders in, curling around to make himself smaller, one foot stepping back but he doesn’t move from under your touch.

Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, faintly confiding, “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I jus’, I’d rather give to you, baby.”

“Oh, Joel…you deserve it and more, honey. Why wouldn’t you?” Your fingers graze up, skating across his skin and carding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not…not the same. I don’t look like who you fell in love with. Everything’s changing, catching up to me. Got gray hair and white in my beard and wrinkles and a beer belly startin’ and my back hurts all the time. M’not who I used to be but you—”

“Have changed, too. It’s not just you, Joel. Everything’s a little softer now, I’ve got wrinkles too. Found like four gray hairs yesterday and had a mild panic attack before I got into the shower. M’curvier and—”

“And you’re fucking beautiful, baby. You’re as beautiful, if not more beautiful than the day I met you.” He’s quick to defend your negative self-talk, his hands running delicately along the curves of your sides and around your lower back. Enveloping you in his arms, he presses your foreheads together, nose notched next to yours.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Joel. Don’t listen to us teasin’ you, especially me, ‘cause I wouldn’t change a thing about you…” As you tilt your head back, your nose grazes against his cheek, feeling a rush of heat from your breath as your lips hover over his, deliciously close to a kiss, “Can I show you what I think about you, honey?”

Joel nods, wordlessly waiting in anticipation; in the next breath, your lips crash into his, drinking him down deep while the hand at the back of his head tangles further into his hair and tugs. He moans, parted lips allowing you to lick into his mouth, whining at the taste of him before you push the flannel material from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as you continue to dominate the kiss.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. Joel follows your lead, carefully moving backward, your tongue melding with his. All he can focus on is the taste of you — sweet, fruity, with the tang of citric acid from all the sour candies you stole from the bowl, the softest hint of chocolate as an aftertaste from his indulgences. The flavors of you coat his mouth, the scent of your perfume and shampoo mixing in his nose, and the feeling of your soft skin in his rough palms when he hikes up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass; it all stirs together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of you that he can seem to taste enough of. Joel’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he’s being pulled away from your mouth with a pop when you ease him to sit down. Curiosity flashes in his mind, the sight of you over him with kiss-swollen lips growing the bulge in his undone jeans. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, beautiful?” His voice is lecherous as it comes out in a rasp, dripping with desire and a bit of wonder over what exactly you’re going to do with your night in control.

You shake your head at him, standing up straight and reaching for his hands, placing them at the hem of your dress, “Go ahead, baby. Take off as much as you want.”

His choice is obvious, tugging the fabric over your head with your help, a hand around your back yanking you to stand close, between his spread legs, while his fingers work open the clasp of your bra. Sitting back on his hands, he observes greedily as you let the straps fall down your arms, dropping the bra entirely onto the floor.

“These too?” Your thumbs hook into the waistline of your panties, doe-eyed and biting down on your body lip teasingly. Cotton-mouthed, Joel nods slowly, lips parted with shaking breath as you strip completely, sinking to your knees in front of him before he can reach out for a handful of your curves.

He lets you work his jeans down to his thighs, his boxers following in their wake, his cock springing free against his bare stomach. You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, the need to see every single one of your movements outweighing the drying of his eyes with his slow, infrequent blinking. Scooting to settle comfortably on your knees, you stand up straighter, gaining enough height to bend your head over his lap, lips meeting his soft tummy and hands gripping onto his thighs. Delicate kisses and ghosting touches on his skin raise goosebumps, a warm shudder trickling down his back at your tenderness.

“So handsome…” you whisper, grazing your teeth into the flesh of his torso, biting down to nip. “Y’know I think about doin’ this all the time, baby. Every time you take off your shirt, jus’ wanna sink my teeth into you.”

His cheeks heat with sincere attention, muscles in his abdomen flexing when you litter lovebites and heated, open-mouth kisses all over him, the gentle touches and desire to relax his anxieties slowly. The focus on your mouth drops to his thighs, turning your head to the side when you sit back on your haunches, licking a stripe up toward his aching cock, a quivering exhale from his mouth drawing your eyes to his face. A satisfied smile stretches across your face, kissing his inner thigh before mirroring the actions on the opposite side. His fingers curl into the duvet, gripping hard as your lips wander closer to where his stiff cock drips needily, throbbing for any kind of reprieve.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So strong, solid.” The sweet nothings tickle at the back of his neck, words that he’s sure you’ve spoken before, but at this moment, they raise his body temperature and lighten his head, the only thoughts being how much he needs you.

Standing on your knees again, you bend your neck over Joel’s lap, eyes flickering up to his face to look at him through your lashes. Your lips part, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto his waiting cock, the sensation making him hiss with urgency. One of your hands wraps around him and strokes slowly. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. One swipe of your thumb across his tip drags the beads of pre-cum from where they’re leaking, melting them into the mix of your saliva that lubricates your motions.

Searing needles pierce into his skin when you finally give in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of his swollen length. Your thumb brushes against his tip again, another hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you to ground himself.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the fresh dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. Humming satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, he looks down at you meeting his gaze, feeling the splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration of your light teasing. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’, please.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, and he’s lost in the delicious warmth of your mouth, unabashed in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Starting a slow bob up and down, he moans at the weight of him on your tongue, saliva coating the underside of his cock as he feels you curl the muscle against every vein. With half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t initially fitting inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, hyperaware that his cheeks are likely visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” You shift in your position slightly, thighs rubbing together and a chuckle rolls from his lips, smug in the need he’s drawing from you simply from enjoying his pleasure. A sigh exhales around him in your mouth as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your aches.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan rumbling from his chest, the reverberations sending aftershocks to the tips of his ears. At that point, he gets lost in the high feeling, his composure leaving him when his large hand at the back of your head pushes you down onto his cock, taking him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me,” he whines, heading tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut, shallow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your head. “Gonna fuckin’ come, baby, holy fuck, I—”

A moan around him gurgles to nothing when he thrusts again, hand tangled in your hair pulling you back until his tip rests against your lips, “Don’t wanna—please—” His words are lost on the tip of his tongue, pleasure hazing his mind as he searches for the plea he wants to make with you.

You giggle from your knees, swiping your fingers to wipe away the drool from the corners of your mouth, a satisfied smirk on your face. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you push yourself up, standing in between his legs while your hands find his shoulders, scraping your fingernails against the curve of them.

“You wanna come inside of me? Not my mouth? Is that what you were trying to say, baby?”

“Yes,” he exhales, relieved to find the word he needed, blinking open his eyes to look up at you. Your thumb skates across his bottom lip, holding onto his jaw as you study his features.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Joel. Anything for my perfect, doting husband. D’you know how fucking good it makes me feel to make you feel good?” you question curiously, tilting his head as he lets you mold him whichever way you want. “Tell me how you deserve to have me like this. ‘Cause you’re so fucking good to me, tell me that you’re gonna let me fuck you, let me take your come inside of me.”

“Baby, I don’t think that—” he starts, palms pressing into the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you.

“Tell me, Joel. You said you wanted to be the one giving to me tonight. That’s what I want.” You use his earlier, shy request against his negative thoughts, and the intensity in your eyes bends him to your will.

“M’gonna let you have my cock, gonna let you fuck me and show me how much you love when I take care of you.” The words roll foreignly on his tongue, unconvincing coming from his mind to his mouth. You bend a knee, bringing it up to rest next to his thigh, nodding along to encourage him to continue, “I give you whatever I can give to you, and always gonna, baby. Now’s your turn to take care of me, right?”

“That’s right, honey. I should show you how much I appreciate you more often…you work so hard, give us exactly what we need, and provide for us. My big, strong man. You do so much for me, baby. Gonna show you how thankful I am for you, how grateful I am that you’re lettin’ me have this cock,” your words breathe hot against his ear, your other leg now straddling him on the bed, cunt hovering over his waiting cock. A hand leaves his shoulders, reaching between your stomachs to wrap around him, guiding him to your entrance. His breath catches in his throat when you ease down onto him, pushing through the wet seal of your slit.

Wet heat envelopes him, taking in a few inches of him; Joel groans under you, head falling forward onto your breasts, forehead pressed into your sticky skin. One hand tangles into his curls, dragging his head back to look into your eyes. Your hips start to move, adjusted to his size easily and taking more of his cock, letting it split you open inch-by-inch. His eyes wildly search yours, seeing the pleasure overtake your mind, lips parting to match his as you both breathe out shallow, hot breaths.

“Fuck, Joel, so fucking big…” you whine for the first time tonight and the sound goes straight to his cock, twitching him inside of you as his hips jerk up, giving you another inch. Lust clouds his mind, nodding confidently as you take him, desperate to feel your tight, dripping cunt around him entirely.

“I know, baby, I know. Should’ve let me get you ready. But I bet you like the stretch, like a lil’ bit of pain, huh?” he coos, arm snaking around you to hold you closer, your eyes fluttering closed above him as you nod languidly.

“Fuckin’ love it, makes it feel even better,” you whimper when his arm tugs you down further, only an inch or two away from him being fully sheathed.

“C’mon, be my good girl, baby. Show me how you sit on my cock.” He leans forward, bending you backward with his force and holding you tight, his lips attaching to the soft, velvety skin of your breasts and biting, “Gotta face your punishment for stealin’ my hat. Take a cowboy’s hat, gotta ride the cowboy, babygirl. I don’t make the rules.”

You giggle, eyes clearing as you’re pulled out of your cloud of pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders and holding eye contact as you finally sink completely down, burying Joel’s cock inside your soaked pussy. Moans echo in the room, bitten down before they get too loud, your hips immediately finding a quick, sloppy pace to chase your highs. The slick glide of your walls grip his cock lusciously, your flooding arousal coating his balls as thighs as you ride him. Little noises slip from your mouth, simmering the coals burning in the base of his gut as he feels the familiar bliss building.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be doin’, cowboy?” you wonder, hips continuing their pace and mouth twisting as you hide a smile. Joel is unashamed, a wide grin on his face as he unravels one arm from you, picking up the hat from the corner post of the bed, and setting it loosely on top of your head. Giggles erupt from the both of you, your pace faltering as the muscles in his stomach cramp from use. 

Recovering from the interlude, your thighs rub against the outside of his as you bounce, nails digging into his shoulders as your rhythm picks back up, the slap of skin against skin the only noise save for your airy breaths that get shallower and shallower. Flames have ignited in his gut, licking inside and burning hotter and hotter the closer he gets. Nearly at the edge, he needs more, body taking over and lifting you with him as he stands, holding you up on his cock as he thrusts hard and quick into you, dripping for him and gripping him tight to keep yourself up while he fucks into you.

“Oh—fuck, Joel! Right there, m’gonna—oh!” Your desperate pleas in his ear pitch up as you moan, cunt tightening with a flutter around him as you come, soaking his dick as he continues his hard pace, selfishly chasing his high. 

A growl rolls from his chest when you come, his fingernails biting into the flesh of your ass, the slap of his balls against your skin as they draw up. His eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name, the first rope of his come released into your cunt, smaller whimpers following in its wake as he fucks one, twice more, filling you up as deep as he can.

Limbs feeling heavy, he turns you both around, pulling you off of him and dropping you gently onto the mattress. He flops down next to you onto his stomach, blissfully out of it as you move to straddle his back, fingers working the knots and soothing the aches growing there after a long week of work, and a night spent corralling your kids.

The warm press of your body against his back makes him hum contently, your breasts at his shoulder blades as you lay on him, one of his hands reaching the rub his fingers softly against the outside of your thigh.

“You know I think you’re the most handsome, right, honey?” you ask with a hint of worry in your voice, barely above a whisper. He nods, rolling over to his back underneath you and meeting your eyes, brow furrowed with concern.

“I know, baby. Jus’ was feeling weird this whole week. You made it a lot better, though.” A knuckle nudges your cheek, and you take the hat off, Joel chuckling again as you throw it off to the side of the bed. Laying down on him again, he strokes your hair while you hug yourself to his torso, both your eyes and his fluttering shut with exhaustion, from tonight and life in general.

Before drifting off, Joel speaks up, cheekily asking, “So…can I wear this costume next year, too?”

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my kofi

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I saw Charlie was on your list and screamed! (get it?) I would love Charlie secretly having sex with the popular school princess after she got sorely dumped by her popular boyfriend. They can wear cute matching halloween costumes and get caught together on the couch by Kirby. She is the only of her friend who wouldn't make too much fun of her

Some late (slightly) spooky vibes with Charlie. There is not enough fics about him *crying*

Warnings: mention of cheating, secret meetings

—

While everyone thought you were heartbroken after getting cheated on by Trevor, you were having the best time bouncing on Charlie Walker’s cock. You and him were an unusual match — the popular princess and the history geek —, but you worked. 

It all began two weeks ago when you and Trevor got into an argument in his truck. He was supposed to take you to his place since his parents were out of town for the weekend, but when he stopped for gas on the way there, he left his phone unlocked and you saw a new message coming in from ‘Tamara🍑’ — a fucking nude. You confronted him about it and he called you out for invading his privacy and snooping through his phone when it was his fault for leaving his phone unlocked and sexting with other girls behind your back. Because apparently, there was more than one. 

What a piece of shit. 

Between the heated voices and the tears, Trevor stopped the truck and told you to get out…on the side of the road. Thankfully, you knew where you were, but it wasn’t less shitty of him to dump you on the street like that. 

You tried to call Kirby, but it went to voicemail. Where was she? And to make the situation worse, your phone was running low on battery. 

It was shortly after that Charlie found you. He was walking home from Robbie’s and found you sitting on the curbside, crying.  It was dark and difficult to see, but he knew it was you. He recognized your pink socks peeking out of your sneakers. 

He approached you slowly, coming to a stop beside you, and looked down at your tear stained face. “Uh, hey…You alright?” Charlie knew it was a stupid question. You were clearly upset, but he asked anyway.

‘’I think Trevor and I just broke up,’’ you said simply. 

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, not really caring but willing to be the ear or shoulder you needed. Charlie would do anything to get close to you. 

You hesitated. You would have preferred to talk to your best friend about this, but Kirby wasn't picking up your calls. Charlie was just your table neighbor from Spanish class, but he was right there. 

‘’I caught him sexting other girls.’’ 

Disbelief and anger crossed Charlie’s face. You said girls in plural, as in more than one. 

He shook his head slightly, looking at you with sympathy, and sat down next to you on the curb. ‘’Fucking asshole.’’ 

You couldn’t agree more. 

Charlie pulled his sleeve up in his hand, carefully wiping the tears off your face. His hand lingered on your chin for a moment before letting his arm fall back to his side. “If you were my girlfriend, I could never cheat on you. You’re the prettiest girl in this shithole.”

His kind words caused a blush to form on your face. You’ve never really paid attention to Charlie before. All you knew about him was that he was president of the Woodsboro Cinema Club, which Kirby was part of. You’ve also been to last year’s Stab-a-thon with her. It was your first time seeing Stab. You remember Charlie sitting next to you and telling you all sorts of facts about the movie. It was sweet of him, and surprisingly interesting. 

When you were in her car, Kirby pointed out that he’s been crushing on you for a long time.  

You didn't remember how it happened, but you kissed Charlie. Maybe it was because you were hurt and needed comfort, or maybe it was because you needed to feel loved after finding out Trevor’s side girls. If he was sexting with other girls, he clearly didn't love you enough. So, you decided to find affection from someone who would give it to you. It was wrong to take advantage of Charlie’s feelings, to use him to make yourself feel better, but your heart was hurting and it was clouding your judgment.

Charlie was stunned when your lips touched his. He didn't think he would ever get a chance with you. Popular girls never fall for the geeks. That only happens in rom-coms. But here you were, kissing him and grabbing the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

As you kissed, he could feel the damp streaks of your tears on your cheeks, and smell the sweet vanilla of your perfume. He let you pull him like a puppet, just happy that you were kissing him and finally giving him the attention he’s been dreaming of for so long…even if it was just you needing comfort.  

You took comfort to another level when you followed Charlie to his house and asked him to take you to his bed. He should have pushed you away and offered to walk you home, but his dick was so hard and straining against his pants from the feeling of your tits pressing against his chest.  

After that night, you started seeing each other regularly.  

Despite his lack of experience, Charlie was a good listener and a quick learner. He was sweet and funny…and a little bit of a freak too. He let you do things Trevor would never have, like letting you on top and taking full control, or putting a finger up his ass. It sounded unpleasant, but Charlie never came faster. You were both shocked. 

Tonight was the Halloween party at Kirby’s. You usually were not that excited for Halloween, but you couldn’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to your costume. The horror movie nerd in him will love it. You spent the day helping her put out decorations and made spooky snacks. Cooking was not your best talent, but the mummy dogs and graveyard brownies were looking good. 

‘’Laurie Strode?’’ Kirby said with a frown when she saw you later that night, dressed in  a blue shirt and a blond wig. ‘’Since when do you watch horror movies?’’

‘’I’m not a fanatic like you, but I do watch some of them,’’ you corrected, making yourself a drink and taking one of the graveyard brownies. 

Skeptical, Kirby hummed, and bit the head off a green sour patch kids. ‘’Charlie!’’ she called toward the living room. ‘’I think I found your other half!’’ 

Your heart started pounding in your chest, thinking you had been discovered by Kirby, but she actually meant your costumes. You were Laurie Strode and he was…Michael Myers. 

With a drink in one hand, Charlie Walker entered the room. He raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw you, a smile forming on his face. Your shirt was visibly too small and tight around the chest, which triggered mental visuals of what was underneath. 

‘’Not babysitting tonight?’’ he asked, trying to compose himself. Even after a few weeks of being together, he still got a little flustered around you.  

You shook your head. ‘’No one needed me, I guess.’’ 

‘’Just because you’re off duty doesn’t mean I won’t stab you tonight.’’ Charlie took a sip of his beer, hoping it would make you laugh. 

You did laugh, as a matter of fact. It was a dorky joke, but his delivery was charming enough to amuse you. 

‘’Do you want to take a picture,’’ you asked, pulling out your phone. 

Charlie nodded and you posed as your characters — you screaming while he attempted to stab you. It wasn’t strange for you to get close to him, and to be touchy — you’ve touched each other a lot more intimately —, but the other people at the party were surprised to see you both socializing with each other. To their knowledge, you and Charlie only knew each other through mutual friends. The complicity and the comfortableness between you should not have been there. 

After taking pictures, Olivia snatched you away from him and began telling you about the guy she just made out with but was now avoiding because she didn’t want him to think he had a chance with her. You felt bad for leaving Charlie like that, but you couldn’t tell Olivia you were talking to him because she would have asked questions. You didn’t want to deal with her judgment. She may be your friend, but she would judge you for having sex with Charlie. 

The only person who wouldn’t judge you too much is probably Kirby. 

But you liked having a secret affair with Charlie. It was something that was only yours. A part of your life you didn’t share with anyone. 

You crashed on the couch with a tired yawn as the house started to empty out. The party had been fun, but after hours of loud music and chatter, the sudden quiet felt like a welcome relief. You took the tv remote and flipped through the channels. It’s Halloween night, there must be something good on. 

Ah, Nightmare on Elm street. 

Settling back into the cushions, you tried to catch up with the scene on the tv. The movie was only fifteen minutes in, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow. 

‘’The reboot isn't half as bad as people make it out to be,’’ a voice chimed in from behind. 

You glanced up to see Charlie leaning over the back of the couch. A smile curled on your lips, pleased to see him. You assumed he had left with Robbie. 

‘’The lead acting sucked, the CGIs were horrible, the kills were nothing new, and come on, Krueger was already a child killer, it was unnecessary to make him a child rapist too—’’ Charlie went on.

You shot him a glare. ‘’Don’t spoil the whole movie! I’ve never seen it.’’ 

Charlie’s expression changed. ‘’Are you serious?! Never?’’ He stepped around the couch and flipped through Kirby’s DVD collection under the tv. It was small, but he knew she had the Nightmare on Elm street box set. ‘’We’re fixing that right now. You must watch the original. This is garbage compared to it.’’

‘’But you just said it wasn’t bad,’’ you said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, correcting you. ‘’That’s not what I said. I said it isn't half as bad as people make it out to be. Not that it was great.’’

He set the disc in the DVD player, then sat with you on the couch.

You were quickly captivated by the movie, your eyes never leaving the tv screen as you watched Freddy torment these teenagers in their dreams — well, nightmares. The character of Freddy looked different from the one in the remake, and Charlie explained that it was because it wasn’t Robert Englund under the makeup. 

When you got to the scene where Glen overheard Tina and Rod having sex in Tina’s parent’s bedroom, Charlie shifted on the couch. The scene was over thirty seconds, and hearing moanings while sitting next to you was making his mechanic suit feel tight in the crotch area. At his house, he would have made a move, but you were at Kirby’s. She could come in at any moment. 

His shifting got your attention. You looked at Charlie, who was staring at the tv with a clenched jaw, and immediately figured what was happening. He was terrible at hiding that he was turned on. Mischief in your eyes, you couldn’t resist having a little fun. Quietly, you moved your hand towards his thigh.

Charlie’s body stiffened automatically as he felt your hand on his thigh. He was hoping you didn’t notice how he was getting hard, but it was too late for that now. 

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but then you moved your hand higher. ‘’Stop,’’ he muttered through gritted teeth, covering your hand with his. ‘’Kirby—’’

‘’She’s not here. Everyone’s gone home.’’ 

‘’It’s her house. She’s somewhere.’’ 

You sighed. ‘’Then, let’s go somewhere else.’’

—

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[oneforthemunny]

friday the thirteenth |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie go to the drive in. a small blurb that's apart of the oneforthemunny's spooky story series! also eddie edit made possible by @eddiemunsonsmum :)

Friday, October 13th, 1989 

“Hey, make sure you hide those snacks, ok?” Eddie muttered, a ringed hand gripping the wheel, blowing smoke out the open window.

“I don’t think they’ll all fit in the glove box.” You frown, shoving the crinkling wrappers of honey buns and kit-kat under miscellaneous papers, a few lighters that were stored away in there. 

“Just put ‘em under the blanket, sweetheart.” Eddie nodded, flicking the cigarette out the window, arm craning behind him for the blankets you’d thrown in from home. 

“They won’t look?” Your eyes cut to Eddie’s carefully, grabbing the aged quilt from his grasp. 

“No, they’re not gonna search the van, baby.” Eddie grinned. “Just look in. Just make sure it’s covered, alright?” 

Undoing your own seatbelt, spreading the blanket over the snacks, feet tucked under your legs. Eddie tapped on the cracked leather of the steering wheel with excitement, rolling to a stop on the gravel behind the line of cars. “I’m so fuckin’ excited.” He admitted, eyes sparkling through the gloom dullness of the gray Indiana sky. 

“Yeah?” You giggle. His smile was infectious, made your heart warm with an overwhelming sense of adoration. “I can tell.” 

“This was a good idea. Coming early, because look at this line, babe.” Eddie tilted the rearview mirror to look at the piling line of cars behind him. All swarming to the Hawkins Drive-In for the double feature of Halloween and Friday the Thirteenth… on Friday the thirteenth. 

“Good call with that.” Eddie smiled over at you, heat spilling over your cheeks at his praise. Eddie’s hand fell on your thigh lightly, squeezing your thigh playfully.

 “Oh, shit. Look at that guy. Shoulda brought my mask, huh?” Eddie nodded towards the teenagers parked in the back, running around in their Jason and Michael masks. 

“Yeah… maybe don’t park over there, though.” You cut your eyes at the teenagers, screeching and jumping off their tailgates. 

“Why?” Eddie smirked, van rolling in line slowly towards the ticket stand. “You scared? Afraid they’ll get you-” 

“-No-” 

“-Because I get it, babe. It is Friday the thirteenth. It’s a very scary night. I’d be scared too.” Eddie teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re scared, Munson?” 

“Maybe. Maybe ‘m just excited.” Eddie smirked, long lashes batting at you sweetly. The van creeped towards the ticket stand. “I wasn’t gonna park there anyways, but they did take my spot, fuckin’ assholes.” 

“Your spot?” Your brows lifted in amusement. 

“Yeah, good makeout spot.” Eddie smirked at your scoff, stopping in front of the ticket stand. 

Your head rested against the seat rest, Eddie’s curls illuminated in the bright light of the ticket stand. Rings catching in the light when he handed them the money, bracelets peeking out from the leather of his jacket when he took the tickets. He looked so pretty; so content. 

“Can you put it on the station?” Eddie muttered, shifting gears so the van rolled with a low grunt over the gravel. “You wanna be more towards the front?” 

“I’m fine wherever, Ed.” You hum, turning the dial slowly. “You’re the expert, right, baby?” 

A huff of a laugh left his lips, curling in a small smile. “Yeah. Think there’s a spot up here if this jackass in a wagon doesn’t take it- Christ, who’s taking kids to this kind of movie? Fuck that, we’re not going there. I’m not listening to screaming the whole time.” 

“Maybe they’re older kids?” You grin, the comical tune of the pre-movie show tune playing through the speakers. “Or could be big horror fans. You didn’t like scary movies as a kid?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not fun going with your parents.” Eddie rolled his eyes, reversing into a back spot slowly. “Gotta sneak it or it’s not fun.” 

“Like the candy, hm? That’s the thrill of it?” 

“Exactly.” Eddie smirked, jamming the gear to park. 

“Shit, this part is good, baby. Look.” Eddie whispered, lips still pressed to yours, hand sliding from your jaw slowly. 

“I don’t wanna look, just-” You pawed at his jacket collar, pulling him closer, back into your kiss. 

“-Wait, wait, this is the good part. Hold on.” Eddie muttered, eyes zoned in onto the screen, sitting back onto the van’s floor. 

You huffed, pushing up on your forearms to look at the screen, lips numb from the cold air and Eddie, just in time to see Michael Myers take a victim- a brutal slashing that had the entire lot grimacing out loud. 

“Oh, that’s fucking sick.” You cringe, looking at the van’s floor instead of the movie, stomach twisting uncomfortable. 

“Very fuckin’ sick. Wonder how they do that, huh? Like the special effects shit like that.” Eddie grinned, body buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. 

“I don’t know. They better have won whatever award there is for that, because that,” You nodded towards the screen, the dismembered, bloody body lying there. “Is disgusting.” 

“Wait until you see Jason’s victims. Makes Michael look tame.” Eddie grinned, head falling against the pillow, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve never seen these.” 

“No way.” You wrinkle your nose at the screen. “More of a Beetlejuice fan or Elvira. I always liked that movie.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Eddie smirked. “Really liked that one.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you did.” 

“I like a spooky babe. Can you blame me?” Eddie pulled you close to his side, lips smacking against your cheek. 

“Oh? So you don’t like me, huh?” You glare at him lightly. “Just wasting my time, Munson?” 

“No way.” Eddie shook his head, looking over at you. “You’re a total spooky babe.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing lightly. “‘M serious.” Eddie squeezes your thigh gently. “You’re doing this with me.” He nodded towards the screen. “Yeah.” You hum, eyes cutting to the screen, grimacing at the chase scene. “Guess I must love you or something to sit through two of these.”

[hearts-hunger]

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Summary: Under the soft glow of the purple Halloween lights, Danny is sweet to you like he always is. || Sequel to Kitkat and Honeyglow

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 2.4k | Warnings: drinking, smoking, mentions of wacky tobaccy, me not knowing anything actually about tarot cards (sorry)

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @spark-my-nature and go look lovingly upon this Kitkat 'verse Danny fanart she made that made me cry!!! Every Danny and Kitkat fic is dedicated especially to Miranda now :) I have at least one more fic for these two sweeties up my sleeve this spooky season, and I hope you like this short little fic! ♡

“Damn, Jake, how much tequila did you put in this?”

Jake laughed when you winced after the first sip of your drink, clinking his solo cup against yours.

“Beats me, kitkat,” he said. “You know I measure liquor with my heart.”

“Should start measuring with your liver,” you said, taking another drink anyway. “Lordy. I'm gonna be slap-out drunk after one drink.”

He cackled. “Slap out? That's weird. You're funny, honey.”

You grinned at the sloppy kiss he bestowed on your cheek as he went to rejoin the party, knowing Jake was well on his way to being slap-out drunk already. Most of the partygoers were in various states of intoxication, whether from the counter littered with half-empty bottles of booze or the weed that was being “discreetly” smoked in the back yard. One of the boys' friends had planned this bash to celebrate the beginning of the season at the haunted house attraction they worked for; this was sort of their last hoorah before nights and weekends became dedicated to scaring the bejeezus out of people for the next two months. You knew your boys were looking forward to getting back to work, and even though you weren't the biggest fan of haunted houses, you were happy to come and celebrate this year's reign of terror on the folks of your small town. 

You fished a Corona out of the cooler and went in search of your boyfriend, weaving through rooms filled with people talking and laughing and singing along to the Ghostbusters theme song playing at a blinding volume. Some were dressed in their costumes for work, getting in the spirit of things, and you politely sidestepped a ghoul and an undead nurse making out in the hallway. You spotted Danny in the living room, sporting a black hoodie and a backwards ball cap that somehow managed to tame his thick head of curls. He was talking animatedly to Sam, who was giving him a vaguely drunk but comically serious look of attention and consideration.

You'd almost made it to them when somebody in a clown mask started razzing the crowd, hollering and getting up in their faces. They all seemed to like it — it was just another day at the office for them, after all — but you stumbled back a little when he turned to you and held his hands up as if to snatch you.

“Hey, Bri, easy on the fright night with my kitkat.”

Your boyfriend’s kind reminder from behind you had Brian backing off with an applogetic laugh.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, muffled through his mask. “Forgot you weren't into all this. My bad.”

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile, thankful for the quick response. The actors who worked at the haunted house were very good about keeping things light and fun for all thresholds of thrill-seeking, even those as low as yours. Still, Danny's hand on your waist was a welcome comfort as Brian went off to scare somebody else.

“Thanks,” you said, turning to Danny. “I guess I should be used to this sort of thing by now.”

He smiled. “No sweat, kitkat. Brian's just funning you, but it's okay if you don't like it.”

You handed him his beer, and he accepted it with a word of thanks.

“This is my last one tonight, though,” he said, looking at your cup with a wry smile. “Somebody’s gotta drive us home, and if you're drinking some shit Jake made, no way should you be behind the wheel.”

Sam held out his hand for a taste of his brother's concoction, and when you let him have some, he coughed and spluttered.

“God damn, kitkat,” he said as you and Danny laughed. “You’re gonna be on the floor after that.”

“That’s the plan, Sammy boy,” you said cheerfully. You knocked back another swig and shuddered with the acrid taste. “Goes down real smooth.”

Danny chuckled and hugged you close to his side. “Having fun, kitkat?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Are you?”

He hummed in agreement around a sip of his beer. “It’s fun to be back with everybody. It's gonna be a good season, I think.”

The music crescendoed, almost rattling the windows with the volume of the synth.

“Do you know who you are yet?” you asked.

Danny leaned closer to hear you over the noise. “Do I know what?”

You stood on tiptoe and leaned on his arm. “Do you know what part you're playing yet? At work?”

He nodded. “Ah. Yeah. Werewolf again. It was such a big hit last year that they want to keep it around.”

You gave him a cheeky smile and a kiss. “It was a big hit for me too.”

He pinked a little, liking the compliment and the reminder of how you'd met. 

“Glad you're happy, sweetheart,” he said, a little bashful. 

Some of his friend wanted him to play a game of darts with them, and you stole one last kiss before you sent him on his way. You knew enough of his coworkers to hang out on your own, and the Kiszkas were milling around somewhere; you went to mingle and talk to some of the friends you'd made over the last year as you'd frequented the haunted house in the off season of repairs and updates.

Cindy, one of the girls who’d worked the zombie maze last year, took you by the arm and let you to where she and a couple other girls were messing around with tarot cards in the dining room.

“Your turn, kitkat,” she said, ushering you into the chair at the table laid with cards and fairy lights. “Time to seek your fortune.”

The girl telling fortunes shuffled the cards and fumbled a few with tipsy hands, and you laughed.

“Off to a good start, I see,” you teased.

“Just you wait,” she said with a grin. She laid three cards in front of you, and you watched curiously as she presented the lovers upside down, the tower, and the moon.

Your draw earned a low chorus of “oohs” from the girls around you. You didn't have the slightest idea what the cards meant and looked around at their faces to see what you could glean from their expressions.

“Bad news?” you asked.

Cindy gave you an uncertain gesture with her cup. “Dunno, kitkat. Looks like your love life is gonna get fucked up, your carefully laid plans are gonna get blown to shit, and you're in for some fear and confusion.”

“Aw, what the fuck?” you protested with a laugh. “Gimme some new ones. I don't like those.”

She waggled her fingers at you. “The cards tell all, babe. Better get with it.”

You let someone else have a turn, and though you enjoyed spending time with your friends, you couldn't help thinking about the cards you'd been given. You didn't want your love life to implode; you liked it just the way it was. 

When the girls pulled out a Ouija board, you declined being haunted and excused yourself to find Danny again. He was out on the porch, smoking a cigarette and finishing off his beer; you snuggled close to him in the chilly night air, thankful for his warmth.

“Saw you in there with Cindy,” he said. His handsome features were sharp in the purple lights strung overhead. “What were y’all getting into?”

“The future,” you said mysteriously.

He smiled. “Oh yeah? What'd you find out?”

You downed the last of your drink. “Well, we're about to break up, and then I'm gonna explode and die, probably.”

He laughed. “Well damn, honey. Is that all?”

“That’s all she wrote,” you agreed. 

He leaned his elbows on the railing, looking out at the spooky decorations in the yard, and you hugged his arm.

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“I don't wanna break up and explode and die.”

He turned his face to yours, nudging the bridge of his nose against your cheek. “We’re not gonna break up, kitkat.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, half-serious. Maybe — certainly — it was the alcohol making your head fuzzy and your emotions wobbly, and you knew you were worried way too much about some drunken tarot reading that none of you had done correctly anyway. But you still wanted reassurance, and as he always did, Danny gave of his kindness and patience very generously.

“Kitkat,” he said gently. He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I’m sure, sweetheart. I'd have to tear my heart out to ever live without you. You hear me?”

You blossomed under his touch, leaning close. “I hear you. I love you, Danny.”

He kissed you, and you felt his smile. “I love you, my sweet kitkat.”

You shared a cigarette under the soft violet lights, talking about the upcoming season and your plans for your anniversary that was only a few weeks away. 

“I think we should make it official and start a family,” he said.

You blushed, partly out of surprise and partly out of some insane pleasure at the idea. Of course you weren't ready for kids and he was only messing with you, but you didn't mind the thought of starting a family with him one day.

“Little Danny junior, huh?” you teased gently.

He grinned. “Later, kitkat. Let me marry you first. But maybe we could get a puppy and start practicing.”

You laughed. “Okay, honey. I like that idea. And the one about you marrying me.”

He pulled you snug against him. “I’m working on it. But, you know, rings that a haunted house actor and part time drummer can afford are kinda scarce.”

You slipped your hand under the purple lights on the railing and showed him a light resting on your ring finger.

“There,” you said. “Found a free one.”

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure are silly, kitkat. I love you. And your free ring. It's very generous of you to find one.”

“Just doing my part,” you said, smiling up at him. You untangled your hand from the lights to brush your fingers over the curls that peeked out from his ball cap. “I love you too.”

When you ventured back to the party, you found that most everybody had settled out in the back yard for a showing of some horror movie on the projector. You and Danny found a spot on the grass to watch, and the Kiszkas joined you. You hoped it would turn out to be a slasher, since you were getting braver with that kind of scary flick, but you quickly found out it was something about ghosts or demons; you didn't watch it closely enough to find out. You hadn't quite gotten over your innate scaredy-cat nature to handle that kind of movie yet. Danny was absorbed in the movie and talking to the boys about it as they all enjoyed it, so he didn't notice that you were hiding behind your hands for a large portion of it.

Halfway through, when the movie was paused to let people refill drinks and snacks, Danny did lean over to check on you.

“How’s it going?” he asked. “This one’s not so bad, is it?”

“Um...” You didn't want to spoil something he was obviously enjoying, but you’d just about reached your limit for terror, even on a movie he thought was tame.

His expression softened with chagrin and worry. “Aw, honey. You don't like it, do you?”

His understanding made you brave enough to tell him the truth. “Not... not really,” you said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to apologize, kitkat. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. We can go home if you want.”

You looked up as he stood. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying if you want to finish the movie.”

He offered you a hand up. “I don't want to stay if it's scaring you, honey. I'm happy to go home if you're ready.”

You took his hand, grateful for his kindness to you, and you said your goodbyes to the Kiszkas and the rest of your friends. The boys gave you some ribbing about still being a scaredy-cat, but you knew it was in good fun.

On the way home, you and Danny stopped to get something to eat and ended up camped out in the living room at the house he shared with the Kiszkas. You divvied up your Taco Bell orders as Danny queued something up on the tv.

“I think this one's a little more your speed, kitkat,” he said. “But you let me know if it’s too scary.”

The opening to Halloweentown started to play, and you nudged your elbow against his ribs and earned a sweet little giggle.

“Sorry, kitkat. I’m only teasing.”

He consoled you with a kiss, and as you sat together and enjoyed the movie that was indeed much more your taste, you found yourself watching him more than your were watching the movie. 

He chewed on his straw. “What?” He offered you his Baja Blast. “You want some?”

You smiled. “No, but thank you. I’m just admiring my lovely boyfriend.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I'm a real hunk eatin’ my weight in tacos and nacho fries.”

You patted his shoulder. “I like a man with a healthy appetite.”

He laughed and gave you a goofy smooch. “Good to know, baby.”

You broke out the candy after a while, grabbing a bag of the fun-sized Skittles and Hershey bars you’d been planning to save for trick or treaters in your more proactive moments. But you could buy more, and the boyish smile on Danny’s face when you tossed the bag in his lap was priceless.

“See, this is why I keep you around,” he said. He fished out a candy for you. “Your special candy, my sweetheart.”

You smiled when you took the Kit-Kat that looked impossibly small in his big hand. “Thanks, honey. I guess it is my special candy, isn't it?”

You broke off half of it and gave it back to him. 

“I didn't mean for you to share it with me,” he said, amused and kind. “But thank you.”

You gave him a quick kiss, candy-sweet and full of the easy love you shared, and he smiled as he pulled you close and deepened it.

“I love you, kitkat,” he said. “You know that, don't you?”

There was no way for you not to know. In his kindness and patience, his selflessness and sweet nature, Danny showed you he loved you until you thought your heart would burst with it.

“Yeah,” you said softly. You smiled. “I know it. I love you too.”

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