#attic gremlin and wall boi

[chaotic-toby]

Stupid little headcanon, but Billy totally gives names to any and all animals (and objects). Any time he comes across an animal, if it doesn't already have an established name, he'll name it the first thing he can think of, which half of the time, aren't actual names

Silly scenario

Brahms and Billy will be walking outside or something and Billy will look up and go, "Hey, Frank!"

Brahms would be confused and look up as well, only to see a bird, "Are you talking to the bird?"

"Yep. All birds are named Frank."

"... Why?"

"Because, instead of naming every individual bird I come across, I've decided to name the entire species the same name, so that's why all birds are named Frank."

At first, Brahms will be confused, but then eventually, he starts doing the same thing. Now, all birds are named Frank, all frogs are named George, all wasps are named Gerald, all dragonflies are named Jeremy, etc etc

[gandalfspinkwig]

HOW SLASHERS WOULD REACT TO WALKING IN ON YOU CHANGING (IF Y'ALL WERE FRIENDLY. SOMEHOW.)

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

SUMMARY: Reactions from certain slashers if they walked in you whilst you were changing. If you're friendly. Somehow.

PAIRINGS: Various!Slashers x AFAB!Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Includes OG!Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Otis B. Driftwood, Norman Bates, Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Brown Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Carrie White, Tiffany Valentine, Chucky, Freddy Krueger, Nubbins Sawyer, Chop Top Sawyer, Lester Sinclair and RZ!Michael Myers.

WARNINGS: Nudity, Mummy and Daddy Kink, Some of the slashers being pervs (*cough cough* Freddy *cough cough*), Fembodied!Reader, Reader is a teenager in Carrie's part otherwise they are an adult in the others etc.

OG!MICHAEL MYERS

Stands there.

Looks you up and down.

Nods and then leaves.

JASON VOORHEES

This precious, sweet little baby

Stands there. Flustered under his mask.

Turns and leaves. Bless his heart.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Stares. He's typically obsessed with his S/O.

Tiddies.

Probably would call you "mummy".

I mean, he's seen you in the walls.

Wall gremlin.

Would hug you and bury his face in your tits.

House train him y'all.

BILLY LOOMIS + STU MACHER

Billy looks you up and down and smirks teasingly.

Stu, on the other hand, walks in and then walks out.

If it's both of the boys, they both grin.

BO SINCLAIR

Stares. Smirks teasingly.

Leans against the doorframe and watches you.

"Don't mind me, darlin'" is all he says.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Stares.

Stands neutrally and just stares.

He's baby.

OTIS B. DRIFTWOOD

It's definitely no accident that Otis walks in on you.

If it is an accident, he just walks past you and does whatever he's doing in your shared room.

He looks you up and down and says "Nice tits,".

NORMAN BATES

Confused. He's so precious and innocent about it.

His 'Mother' personality is screaming at him to get out.

Leaves and apologises profusely.

BUBBA SAWYER

Makes confused Bubba noises.

Drayton didn't teach him about a situation like this.

Throws you his apron to cover you up with, whilst covering his eyes.

THOMAS BROWN HEWITT

This beautiful gentleman.

Would stare for a few moments before averting his eyes.

He closes the door so Hoyt doesn't see you.

BILLY LENZ

This attic goblin.

Has probably seen you naked when he's watched you.

Would probably lick his lips.

Stares. 100000% stares.

CARRIE WHITE

It's a complete accident. This sweet girl.

You're probably her only friend ngl

Covers her eyes and runs out, closing the door behind her.

TIFFANY VALENTINE + CHUCKY

Tiffany is probably super polite about it. She just stands and talks to you as you change. She gives input on your outfit.

Chucky, on the other hand, looks you up and down, smirking. Probably makes some lewd comment.

Tiffany hits Chucky on the back of the head for that.

FREDDY KRUEGER

Somehow, he manages to get out of your dreams into the real world.

He looks you up and down, making some lewd comment, and flirts with you.

Leaves after you throw your slipper at him.

NUBBINS SAWYER

HE'S ALIVE IN THIS Y'ALL.

Grabs his camera and takes a picture of you.

Keeps it in his little fur pouch thing he has in the gif.

CHOP TOP SAWYER

He just wanted to show you a new album that he definitely didn't steal.

Stares, waving the record in his hand. Looks you up and down.

He just walks in and continues talking about the album.

LESTER SINCLAIR

Accidentally walks in and profusely apologises and runs out.

He accidentally runs into the door, knocking his hat off his head.

Apologises a million times, closing the door behind him.

RZ!MICHAEL MYERS

Unlike OG!Michael, RZ!Michael takes time to look at you up and down, examining your body.

Hugs you. For some reason.

Pokes your breasts. Tilts his head.

Leaves.

[kettleworthcrisps]

All I can think about is ghostface(from the series or dbd) or brahms and Billy lenz with "oh no, our table, it's broken" and I will never visualize anything to that audio the same

[luxaofhesperides]

a song beneath the sea

summary: a young Tim encounters mermaids for the first time when he’s called by them to help lay their dead to rest. 

(part of the Medium!Tim series i’m writing with @gremlin-librarian)

. . .

“Are you sure this will work?” 

“Yes, I wouldn’t have brought you out here if I wasn’t! Come on, don’t you trust me?”

Tim bites his lip, staring into the dark water nervously. “I mean. Normally, yes, but it’s starting to feel like you’re trying to drown me for your own entertainment.”

“Really? After all the effort I’ve put into making sure you survived this long, and this is how you repay me?” Cassius turns his face away in exaggerated offense, drifting far enough away from Tim for his form to fade some. The ocean reveals itself through Cassius’ transparent body, beckoning Tim forward. 

“Okay, okay, my bad. But you can’t really blame me for being nervous about this.”

Cassius shrugs. “It’s not like any of us are going to let you die that easily. Or stay dead, if it really gets that far.” He turns to face Tim and waves him closer. “Come on, they’ll be arriving soon.”

Taking a steadying breath, Tim walks to the edge of the dock, stopping beside Cassius. They look out over the sea together; the black waves glint under the bright moonlight, like knives. Or batarangs. 

This far out, away from the harbor and hidden by a wall of  sea rocks, there are no lights. As if these old docks, no longer used, have been forgotten by Gotham completely. 

Tim would have never found them if Sadie hadn’t drowned there thirty seven years ago. 

“Got everything ready?”

The sudden appearance of Lisette is something Tim has long gotten used to; he’s lived his entire life with ghosts popping in and out without warning. It takes a lot to get him to startle. 

She’s sitting on the edge of the dock, legs dangling down into the water. In the moonlight, the blood running down the side of her head looks just as black as the ocean. From the right angle, it almost looks as though she’s turning into seawater. 

Tim holds up the pendant, apparently blessed by sea nymphs. Cassius had found it in one of the storage boxes in the attic of Drake Manor and dragged Tim up to get it months ago. 

I had one as a child, he had told Tim, No warrior moved through the water with the ease I had. It’s how I got my first honor in battle.

Listening to Cassius recount his life in the Roman Empire was always a treat for Tim. But to hold something that was used in that time as well left him giddy with excitement. 

Now, staring out into the sea, that excitement has vanished. The twisting of his stomach remains, nerves building as he wonders if the blessing is still strong enough to keep him safe or if he’s foolishly holding onto a childish dream that will only lead him to drowning. 

His parents are not in Gotham. They rarely are. If anything happens to him, only the dead will know.

Cassius and Lisette shift closer to him. 

It helps to know that he’s not alone. That there are people who will care if something happens to him. People who will try to help him, even if they’re dead. 

Tim doesn’t want to drown—he’s spoken to enough ghosts to know that it’s a terrible way to die—but death itself isn’t so scary. Dying won’t change anything. He’ll still be with his friends and the long dead people who helped raise him. He’ll just lose his connection to the living world and finally have firm footing with the dead.

He’s not scared. He’s not.

The ocean is just unforgiving.

Lisette pats the space next to her, looking up at Tim expectantly. He sits down beside her, crossing his legs to keep himself dry for a while longer. Cassius joins them on Tim’s other side, whistling a jaunty tune. 

“Are you sure they’ll come?” Tim asks again. It’s the same question he’s been asking all week, but he can’t help it. It feels like a fantasy, which is saying something for a boy who is friends with the dead.

“For the last time,” Lisette says, “Yes, I am very sure. They seek out Mediums like you for a reason. This was always going to happen, one way or another.”

“But what if I’m not good enough? I don’t know anything about their funerary customs!” 

“They’ll tell you,” Cassius reassures. “And we’ll be with you the whole time. You’ll be fine, kid.”

Tim isn’t so easily convinced, but he doesn’t argue. There’s no point, anyways, when they’re all out on the dock. They’ve come this far. Now they just need to wait.

It takes another half hour before something in the air shifts. It’s hard for Tim to put a finger on what, exactly, changed but he can feel it. Cassius and Lisette can as well, if their suddenly rigid posture is any indication. 

The waves settle. The world goes still. Even the wind has stopped; all Tim can hear is his blood rushing in his ears. Deep in his chest, something pulls—twists—aches—

A head slowly rises out of the water. 

Tim’s gaze snaps to it immediately and he grits his teeth to keep himself from gasping. Milky white eyes stare back at him from a face so pale he can easily see the veins under their skin despite the distance between them. 

There’s a moment where neither of them move, then Tim bows his head to them and waits with bated breath as they swim closer.

The mermaid straightens up until their shoulders are out of the water. They stop a few feet away from the dock and trill, the sound coming light and sweet from their throat. 

Immediately, a dozen more mermaids appear from beneath the waves. 

Cassius stands at his full height, floating in front of Tim protectively. None of the mermaids can see him, but it still helps Tim relax.

He’s not alone. Cassius and Lisette are with him and they’ll help him if anything goes wrong. With him around, they can become tangible long enough to get him to safety if it gets to that point. 

Swallowing thickly, Tim bows once more to the entire pod of mermaids and whispers, “Hi.”

The first mermaid, who must be the leader of the group, swims closer and smiles at him. Despite the sharp teeth, pale and pearl-like, it's one of the kindest smiles Tim's ever had directed at him. They reach a hand up and wait as Tim stares at it, gathering his courage. 

The pendant hangs around his neck. Cassius and Lisette are with him. He is here for a reason and they need him alive for it. 

He’ll be fine.

Tim takes the mermaid’s hand and slips into the ocean.

. . .

He doesn’t drown. 

The water closes over his head and he’s pulled down into the depths, surrounded by mermaids. The blessing on the pendant keeps him from feeling the chill as they go deeper and deeper under the water, but it doesn’t take long before his lungs start burning from the lack of air and panic begins to set in.

Tim pulls at the hand circled around his wrist; it’s large, compared to his, with webbed fingers that end in deadly looking nails. The mermaid glances back at him, then brings the entire procession to a halt as Tim gestures at his face, then places his hand on his throat and looks at them pleadingly.

The mermaid reaches out with their free hand and a small pearl-like orb of water forms above their fingertips. They push it against his mouth, insistent, until Tim parts his lips enough to allow it through. 

He grimaces at the taste of the sea, all salt and brine, but the pearl of water dissolves on his tongue easily. Without thinking, he swallows, and coughs.

Panicked, Tim rubs at his throat, taking several deep breaths before he realizes that he’s breathing. Underwater.

Wide eyed, he looks up at the mermaid who smiles at him. He tries to thank them, but his voice barely travels through the water. He can’t even hear himself. With his voice inaccessible to him underwater, Tim settles for bowing his head in thanks.

The mermaid pets him, gently brushing their clawed hand through his hair. 

That’s good, at least. The mermaid must like him at least a little bit, to treat him like that. 

Tim glances to the side, hoping to share a commiserating glance with Cassius, but he’s not there. Neither is Lisette. There are only mermaids swimming through the currents and no sign of his ghostly companions for the night. 

His heart drops. 

Where did they go? They promised to stay with him, and there’s never been a place they couldn’t follow him to. If things go badly… If Tim is here alone…

It’s not something he’s expecting to survive. 

Swallowing heavily, Tim holds tightly to the hand that’s wrapped around his wrist, hoping this one mermaid will continue to treat him kindly enough to bring him back to the shore. As long as he doesn’t mess this up and puts their dead to rest properly, they have no reason not to help him. 

He’s guided through dark towers of rock and coral. Fish dart too and fro, avoided their path and hiding away as they pass. The currents tug lightly as his hair and make his shirt billow out around him. 

This undersea part of Gotham is just as dark as the rest of the city. There’s any barely color among the rocks and dark sand. Items lost to time are scattered along the seabed, barely visible from where Tim is carried through the water. 

The other mermaids stay behind him as the leader guides them all. Though muffled, Tim can hear them speak to each other in a melodic series of trills and clicks, all low notes and somber. 

As they approach a large cave, Tim feels that tug in his chest again. It’s heavy, like a stone has been dropped in his ribcage, and it’s no longer the voices of the mermaids that fill his ears, but something similar to water rushing. Waves. A heartbeat in a conch shell. 

He’s taken through a long tunnel, faintly illuminated by crystals pressed into the walls. It would be so fascinating, seeing how mermaids live in such a dark sea, but he can’t focus at all. 

Tim can barely feel the hand wrapped around his wrist. He can barely feel it letting go. 

As soon as the tunnel opens up into a large cavern, filled with soft lights and a variety of objects that must be important in mermaid culture that he can’t focus on in the moment, Tim leaves the procession of mermaids behind and swims slowly but steadily into the open water. 

He is dissolving. No, he is becoming. 

That ache in his chest moves with the tide, pulled by moonlight and wind. He goes with it, sinking closer to the feeling of death that is ever present in his life. 

There’s a shimmer in the water. 

Tim reaches for it, acting only on instinct. His hands carefully shape that light into the body it once belonged to. He takes the hand reaching out for him and pulls, drawing them into view. 

With the first mermaid spirit come the rest. They drift out around him, filling the cavern. Most find their way to where they’re meant to be, to certain items left for them as goodbye gifts. Others are lost, unsure of where to go.

He doesn’t need to think at all. Something deep within him tells him what to do, where to guide those lost souls, how to soothe them and ease their journey to the afterlife into something softer. 

Once each ghost is in their place, Tim exhales.

He stops breathing.

He sinks.

There at the bottom of the cavern, bruising his knees on the hard rock, Tim understands, at last, what he’s meant to do. Not just with this, but with everything. His ability to interact with ghosts, to always be connected to death, to walk the line between life and death; what was meant to be a curse is gift. 

The living take care of the living. But who will care for the dead?

Tim will. His heart is settled. He was made for this.

When he looks up, the spirits of the mermaids resemble stars. They wait for him to send them on, embracing their final moments on this world before fading into their afterlife. 

He tilts his head back and sings; the mermaidic tongue he had heard only for the first time that night flies from his throat. The dead guide him as he guides them through this last dance. His body becomes semi-transparent as he draws closer to the dead, allowing their voice to run through him. 

The spirits dance through the water. They rise, circling up in a dizzying display. 

Distantly, Tim thinks of fireflies. Of Christmas lights. Of stars only visible outside of the city. 

His voices echoes off the walls of the cavern. It’s not really his voice; there’s a depth to it, the voices of the dead wrapped around his own. 

It feels like forever but also only a moment before the spirits fade away, laid to rest. Tim falls onto his back, breathing deeply. His throat is sore and his body feels heavy, but his heart is light.

I really did it, he thinks, grinning exhaustedly. 

He can’t wait to tell the others about this. It’s going to be a long entry to his A Field Guide On Mediums notebook he’s been working on since he first learned to write. 

He’s content to just lay there and let the world pass by, but the mermaids swim down for him and not sitting up feels rude. 

There’s a clear expression of awe on each of their faces. It makes Tim blush, ducking his head shyly when they reach him. 

Several of them make cooing sounds, and the leader runs a hand through his hair again, petting him.

Tim wonders if he just became their pet Medium.

Normally, he would protest any claims of him being tiny or adorable, but having mermaid friends is cool enough that they get a free pass for whatever. 

The leader chirps at him, then picks him up and clicks rapidly. Tired and confused, Tim just blinks at them. The mermaid smiles at him, then cradles him against their chest and begins the swim back to the shore, following not by the whole group but by only three other mermaids. 

Tim hasn’t felt this cared for in ages. Sure his ghosts do their bests, but being held by someone who’s alive is different. There’s more weight. More warmth. Something more that soothes that ache of loneliness in his bones. His eyes drift shut and he falls into a light doze as he’s gently rocked by the currents and the motions of swimming.

A hand brushing his hair back rouses him. It takes a few blinks for his eyes to fully open, and when they do Tim realizes that they’ve reached the surface.

Their heads are out of the water. Above them, the moon is bright, the only patch of the sky not covered by dark clouds. 

“Tim!” Cassius and Lisette yell his name at the same time, floating over in a hurry. They hover above the water, hands flitting anxiously across his face in search of injury. 

“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” Lisette asks.

Simultaneously, Cassius says, “We tried to go after you, but the ocean would not let us through. Forgive us for not being with you and dishonoring our promise to remain by your side.” 

Tim smiles up at them. “It’s alright,” he rasps, voice barely audible. It sends sparks of dull pain through him, but he tries to speak anyways. “I’m fine. It was really cool, actually. Thanks for waiting for me.”

The mermaid trills lightly. The other three that had followed behind them crowd around suddenly, reaching out to gently trace his cheekbone, tug at the ends of his hair, hold his hand up out of the water. 

Each of them takes his hand and presses their forehead to it. They click lowly, then sink back into the water. 

There’s no trace of any of them. Only Tim and the leader remain, holding onto each other next to the dock. 

“Thanks for bringing me back,” Tim says, moving back out of their arms to swim closer to the dock. 

The mermaid gently grabs Tim’s hand, lifting it up to press their forehead against it, then smiles. They bring their own fingertips up to their mouth, then tips their hand out towards him.

It takes a moment to place the gesture, then Tim realizes it’s ASL for thank you. 

“Oh!” He’s stunned for a moment, hit by the realization that he can talk to them, even underwater, and understand them next time he meets them. Well, he can once he learns more ASL. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

The mermaid drifts back some, watching as Tim reaches the support post of the dock and reaches his hand up. Cassius grabs it, hauling Tim up with some effort, and depositing him on the old wooden planks. 

Tim shivers. His everything is soaked, and though the pendant has kept the chill away in the water, it does nothing for the cool wind that sweeps along the beach. 

He’s got a long walk back to Bristol. Laying the dead to rest for the first time has exhausted him. Part of him wants to sleep on the dock and find a way home in the morning, but he knows it’s a stupid idea and that Lisette and Cassius are not above getting everyone else involved to drag him home. 

Cassius stays behind him, keeping him from laying down. Tim leans back against him, blinking sea water out of his eyes as it drips down from his hair. 

A splash in the ocean gets his attention. He looks down, tearing his eyes off the moon, and meets the mermaid’s gaze. They sign thank you once more, then sign something else .

“Um, sorry, I don’t know ASL enough to understand you,” he says apologetically, shame bubbling up in him. “But I’ll learn! And then I can talk to you! If you don’t mind me coming back.”

His hesitance in asking for permission to return, shadowed by the fear of rejection, is quickly soothed by the mermaid’s soft smile and nodding. 

“Okay! I’ll, uh, see you around?”

The mermaid waves at him. 

“Good night!” Tim waves back, focusing to make it look normal instead of having his hand flop around, tired as he is. 

The mermaid lingers for a second longer, then dives back under the water, their silver tail flashing out into the air for a moment. 

Tim stares out at the sea. He’s back here, where his night started, as if no time has passed at all. It’s surreal, almost like a dream.

But it was real. He’s proof of it. Him and his drenched clothes. 

Gotham Bay is a known site for dumping bodies. The docks are rife with drugs and gangs, shipments of some new horrible thing making its way to the streets of Gotham. The water is black and full of chemicals and garbage and people. No one swims in Gotham Bay if they have any sense. 

But this far away, there are mermaids who have kept their section of the ocean clean. It must be some type of magic, and Tim wants to learn all he can. He already knows that he’ll be visiting often once he picks up more ASL.

It’s dangerous. It’s exciting. 

It’s something new, something good that’s come out of his existence as a Medium. 

Lisette wipes a few drops of water off his cheek. “Ready to go home?”

“Ready,” he whispers, stealing one last glance at the sea before letting Cassius pull him up and lead him back to the road.

The moon watches him leave. If there are any mermaids lingering beneath the wave, he doesn’t see them. But he does catch a glimpse of the northern star, a single solitary light coming through Gotham’s polluted skies, and sends off a wish for the safe travel of the spirits. 

It’s a quiet night.

The walk home takes hours. He doesn’t want to risk getting any attention in his wet clothes, so he sticks to shadows and rooftops, too tired to use his abilities to become partially invisible (though it’s more accurate to say he goes partially ghostly). 

Tim collapses into bed in the early hours of dawn. The house is as devoid of life as ever, but each of his ghosts keep him company as he falls into a deep sleep, dried and warmed after a quick shower. 

He sleeps easily, without dreams or nightmares. He sleeps as each of his ghosts silently swear to keep him safe; the living protect the living, Mediums protect the dead, but they shall protect Tim.

In the morning, he will regale his family of ghosts with a tale of his underwater adventure. He will come up with new theories of his abilities, of mermaids and their way of life, of caring for the dead. 

Though he doesn’t know it yet, this night is the catalyst that sets the sets his fate in stone. This night is where word first spreads of Tim’s power, of his kindness, of his position between the worlds of the dead and the living. 

This is when the dead begin seeking him out in search of peace.

This is, in the end, how Jason Todd will find Tim a week after his funeral and ask for his help.

But for now, Tim sleeps under the watchful gaze of his ghosts and the fading echo of mermaid song in his ears.

[lizadale]

*Luigi sits on his roof during a storm thinking about:

The valley 20 minutes walk from here is home to one dead eccentric fuck boy with a wall decor fixation and one (probably mostly dead at this point) eccentric fuck boy who like experimenting with his DNA

There's a dream eating vampire bat chilling in his attic

There's a dimension bending gremlin wearing his clothes hanging out in his library, and the little fuck probably didn't rinse the tea pot again.

He stares into the rain and all he can think is "The fuck even is my life?"

Luigi like "If I'd gotten a beach house instead, would I still wind up surrounded by all this weirdness? Maybe I should've fought Waluigi harder for that island..."

[inkribbon796]

Not So Baby Brother

Summary: Tubbo is trying desperately to bury his past, if only everyone around him wasn’t interested in digging back up in front of him.

A/N: Warning for hinted child abuse and endangerment. Both to Tubbo, Puffy, Schlatt, and to Michael. I try to keep the majority of it off screen or undetailed but it’s still there. These events coupled with his time with the SMP makes Tubbo in this AU who he is in the present. Which is emotionally withdrawn and prone to pushing people away.

Tubbo in the first flashback was about four, while Schlatt and Puffy were about 10.

~::~ 13 Years Ago ~::~

Tubbo was in his bed, hiding under the covers, hands over his ears as he heard the arguing and smashing of things across the house. The little four year old was so scared and he didn’t know what to do.

Then his door opened and Tubbo hiccuped in fear. He tried to stay quiet and still, hoping that if he did the person would just leave him alone.

A hand came down where his shoulder was.

Tubbo flinched.

“Tubster? You awake?”

The little boy let out a breath of relief, it was his big brother. Still scared, Tubbo peeked his head out from underneath the covers to see both his siblings there: Schlatt and Puffy.

Schlatt looked bad but he still smiled at Tubbo. “Hey don’t cry, c’mere[1].”

Tubbo was already crawling his way over to Schlatt and crying, and he couldn’t stop.

“C’mon,[2] you know what he’s gonna[3] do if he catches you crying,” Schlatt tried to calm him down.

Puffy came to sit next to them, her own eyes wet. Schlatt slightly rocked Tubbo to try and comfort him.

“Hey, T-Man,” Schlatt tried to soothe him. “Kinda[4] loud isn’t it?”

“We’ve got you,” Schlatt held Tubbo tightly, the younger brother still shaking and sobbing. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Tubbo nodded his head, clutching onto his brother. A little embrace of safety for a young boy whose life was so turbulent and scary. Tonight nothing would hurt, and that was what mattered to the young boy.

~::~ Present Day ~::~

“I was just thinking about it Tubbo . . . we like to have fun.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out.”

“I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Uh, what have I been up to?”

“Everyone knows what you’ve been up to!”

“Do you know what we do to traitors, Tubbo?”

“. . . No?”

“Techno, you wanna come up here for a second?”

“Let’s just send a message, real quick.”

“Techno, if you would be so kind.”

“Murder him right now, on this fucking stage, and make it hurt!”

“Tubbo, I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick.”

“Techno, what the hell!”

“Wilbur!”

Tubbo shot up in bed, his eyes wild and heart racing. He was disoriented at first, expecting himself to be in some hole somewhere, still in pain after pulling himself together from a discorporation and desperate to escape before Schlatt found him again.

Tubbo surged out of bed, trying to get away.

Then he heard ruffling behind him and disgruntled child sobs.

And Tubbo came back to himself, he looked back to see Michael crying and Ranboo sitting up in his own bed. Tubbo mentally chastised himself.

“Mikey? Daddy’s sorry, did I wake you up?” Tubbo walked back to his bed, his pace quickening when Michael reached up and made grabby hands towards Tubbo.

Ranboo was already getting out of his bed and walking over to them. He looked like he was going to collapse in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Hmmm,” Ranboo hummed.

The two-toned teen stopped right outside the bed and gestured with his tail, “Can I join?”

Tubbo scooted over a bit, and Ranboo sat down as Tubbo tried to rock and soothe their adopted son. Ranboo making little cooing and odd vwoop noises, while Tubbo was humming some lullaby, that helped Michael fall back asleep with the familiarity.

A little family the two teens had carved for themselves.

Tubbo and Ranboo had found the small boy thrown away by some demon hunter as a “disappointing failure” and after Tubbo left Ranboo to tend to the scared and crying boy, Tubbo went to “fetch the adoption papers” and the mage was never seen again. Ranboo didn’t question what Tubbo had done but they took the boy, bundled him up in Tubbo’s jacket and got the boy some food before taking him into the Bee ‘n Boo before spending the next couple hours finishing the attic store room and Ranboo used their downstairs storage for all the establishment’s storage.

That day Ranboo busied himself around their bed and breakfast as Tubbo kept the boy entertained and fed. Michael immediately bonded with Tubbo, and Ranboo found himself falling in love with the boy as well.

The attic was immediately barred from all entry that wasn’t either of the owners. Tubbo made the announcement and was very firm. Beforehand it was frequently used as a temporary living space for Ranboo and Tubbo and they just didn’t want anyone in their personal space anymore.

Which was true but now Michael was there and Tubbo desperately didn’t want people like Quackity and Techno to find out about Michael quite yet. The boy had been through enough and . . . Tubbo wanted a little slice of peace.

He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

Right?

And it certainly didn’t help that bonds and possessions were treated like weaknesses to be exploited and used as currency. Sapnap and Dream had long since set a precedent for that.

So as Tubbo sat in the dark attic bedroom, holding his son in his arms, he pushed down his fear and focused on Michael, who needed him right now.

Soon the little boy was back asleep, tucked back into bed, and Tubbo threw up his arms. He got up because, after his nightmare, there was no way he was getting back to sleep.

So Tubbo changed into his suit and made sure he wasn’t wearing his horns before he left to go down to the staff lounge for a coffee.

“Tubs,” Ranboo called out, shifting in his suit and looking human. “You okay?”

“Yeah, go back ta[5] bed, bossman,” Tubbo dismissed.

“You sure, you’ve got a big day, and we got a lot to do here,” Ranboo looked uneasy.

Tubbo didn’t trust his voice at first, but when he did he told him, “Go back ta[5] bed. I’m grabbing a coffee.”

“Oh, okay,” Ranboo looked away and slowly went back into the room. Tubbo knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep. But at least it gave Tubbo time to clear his head.

After three coffees, four hours of paperwork, and bullshiting around with Tommy for a bit; Tubbo was overjoyed to put on his Bomble Bee costume and start running around town with Tommy like a maniac.

It was freeing, the suit went on and he wasn’t Tubbo anymore. He was free.

Logic and Jackie were less than enthused to find them by themselves, and Tubbo didn’t appreciate the babysitter, but at least Logan didn’t talk down to Tubbo during it.

They went on a patrol around Brighton, and they were halfway through when Logan brought something up, “You have a sister?”

Tubbo flipped up his visor to glare at Logan, “Thought we agreed family wasn’t shit?”

“There was no agreement on that matter, that was merely a comment you made,” Logic sighed. “If you feel unsafe around your blood related family that is one thing, but demon magic or not you are still underage and the Coalition is bound to follow the law as far as it is actually protecting people.”

“I legally emancipated,” Tubbo countered, flicking his visor back down. “Tommy’s an idiot who doesn’t know how ta[5] do shit. I don’t need anyone ta[5] sign anything fer[6] me.”

“Do you have copies of those legal documents?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, at the BnB,” Tubbo told him. “You wanna pop on over?”[7]

“There’s no rush at the moment, you can email me those tonight when you get home,” Logan offered Tubbo an out. “However, I would like to know the nature of your relationship with your family. You don’t need to go into detail, I trust you had your reasons for emancipation if that was the route you chose to follow.”

“Don’t talk with my parents, if you can call ‘em[8] that, and I haven’t fer[6] years, I only really talk ta[5] my older sister?” Tubbo told him. “She lives in Gainesville with her girlfriend.”

“Are you on good terms with her?” Logan asked. “I wouldn’t want you in communication with someone who is hostile emotionally or physically to you or your family.”

“Nah, she’s alright, she’s part ‘a[9] the Server though, you wanna[10] meet her?” Tubbo smiled.

Logan thought on that, “We might want to send some kind of warning if we go over. Last I checked, several of them had sent me death threats. Does your sister know you’re working with us?”

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo lifted himself up with his bumble bee wings, looking quite proud of himself. “I got several pissed off texts from some ‘a[9] the guys after they saw me an’[11] Big Man on the news. It was great, Quackity screamed at me fer[6] at least five minutes.”

“Are you certain you will be safe when you visit your sister?” Logan asked again.

“Oh yeah,” Tubbo promised. “Come on.”

The logical Side continued to ask questions, letting Tubbo use his phone to send a supervised text to his sister: Puffy. Then they started making their way over.

When they got to the condo Puffy lived at, Tubbo didn’t even knock. In fact he practically kicked the door open.

“Puffy!” Tubbo cupped his hands over his ears and called into the townhouse, calling out at the top of his lungs. “You fuckin’[12] Niki in here?”

“Fuck you, Tubbo! You little gremlin piece ‘a[9] shit!” Someone shouted from upstairs.

Tubbo chuckled and announced loudly, “I bought company.”

“Hide the good kush[13]!” Someone else yelled and Tubbo laughed even more.

“Hey Hannah,” Tubbo greeted as he walked in and motioned for Logan to follow him. “Alyssa in?”

“Don’t care,” Hannah was on her phone, sitting in an armchair. “She’s probably off with Callahan.”

“Yeah, prolly[14],” Tubbo replied. He started walking towards the kitchen, he quietly motioned for Logan to follow him.

Tubbo immediately went for the fridge, leaving Logan to just look around the little space. It was obviously lived in, and on the far wall were some pictures of several women with various people Logan recognized as being from the Server. But there was one almost hidden, almost completely tucked behind a bowl full of different colored rocks. It was a small framed picture in the corner of the kitchen, almost hidden from view, of a much younger Tubbo surrounded by some people that Logan didn’t recognize.

Logan didn’t have long to inspect the photos and start making inferences that he would most likely never ask, because someone stomped into the kitchen.

She had fluffy hair that was a chestnut brown on one side, and white on the other. Flecks of rainbow hairs interspersed on both halves. She was one of the people in the picture, Logan quickly realized. She resembled Tubbo a little bit, and on prolonged examination, Logan noticed that her fluffy hair was hiding a set of thick, curled ram horns. The kind that looked capable of crushing someone’s skull if they made an impact.

Logan figured that Tubbo’s would probably look like that in a couple years, just a bit more like a goat’s.

Tubbo glanced at her before asking, “Where are those rad fuckin’ ice lollies yeh bought?”[15]

“You took them last week for Michael,” Puffy snapped.

“Ohhh, yeah, he loved those,” Tubbo smiled, closing the freezer. He gave her a smug look. “So you didn’t buy more then?”

“No,” she gave him the stink eye. Then she glanced at Logan. “Who’s your friend?”

“Pardon me,” Logan spoke up. “My name is Logic, from the Coalition, I believe I texted you a little bit ago.”

“Yeah, I did get something,” Puffy agreed hesitantly. “Who’s this?”

“My mentor,” Tubbo pointed at Logic as he closed the fridge

“Huhhh,” Puffy hummed. “Hey, Tubbo, why don’t you go into the next room and watch some Adventure Time?”

“Don’t kill him,” Tubbo told her pointedly.

“And take that fight from Bad and Big Q, are you insane?” Puffy told him. “Oh, wait, you build bombs, of course you are.”

Tubbo held up two fingers, his middle and index, and flipped her off before walking off.

“You asshole!” Puffy told him and Tubbo was already cackling in laughter. When he’d completely turned his back, Puffy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Ehhh, he’s a good kid.

“He is,” Logan agreed, “Tubbo is intelligent and resourceful. Even if he is threatening to set off explosives under the guise of experimentation.”

“Yep, that’s Tubs alright,” Puffy chuckled. “He always liked figuring out how stuff worked, even as a little kid. He’s like a baby mad scientist.”

“Excuse you, I am a full blown mad scientist, I e’en[16] have the arrest record ta[5] prove it!” Tubbo boasted from the other room.

“From what Tubbo has told me, you seem to approve of him working with us,” Logan commented.

“Hell yeah,” Puffy told him, leaning against the counter as she watched him. “Between Ranboo, the Bee ‘n Boo, and working with you guys; Tubbo’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

“That is good,” Logan agreed. “Tubbo’s mental and physical well-being is of primary importance.”

“You talk like a textbook, you sure you’re not a robot?” Puffy asked.

“I do not classify as an inorganic being,” Logan answered.

“Sure you don’t,” Puffy smiled. “So what brings you to the neighborhood? I’m guessing you didn’t come over just to stand in our kitchen and look like Apple’s version of Robocop?”

“No, that’s not the reason I came to visit,” Logan agreed. “The Coalition prefers, if possible, to have a good working relationship with the families of our apprentices. So that in the case of emergencies they can be notified. While I am glad you and Tubbo seem to have a positive relationship, the more important question is are there any safety risks that any other members of your family would pose to Tubbo or his family?”

Puffy looked uneasy, “What has he told you?”

“Not much,” the logical Side admitted. “I haven’t known him for long enough, but when I asked him about his extraneous family, Tubbo mentioned he was emancipated, and that he was not in communication with his parents. He only mentioned you, and I have seen his son once.”

“We had an older brother,” Puffy frowned, looking over at the half-hidden picture. “Started turning into a demon around the same time as Tubbo and I, and he was . . .”

She looked down, “Well he was the type of demon you keep your kids away from, and I wasn’t there to keep my eyes on them.”

“That must have been a difficult experience for everyone,” Logan tried to offer his sympathies.

Puffy looked in the direction of the hidden picture, “I should have been there, it would have never happened if Phil and I had been there to stop them. But the real problem is Dream has something that can apparently restore a demon. I don’t know how thorough it is, or if it’s just something he tells Tommy and the others to make them afraid of what he can do. But he apparently needs some of the original demon’s essence or aura and both Schlatt and Will left those behind. Wilbur left Ghostbur behind, and Quackity cremated everything but Schlatt’s heart and five of his bones. Meaning if Dream gets his hands on even one of those bones then he could, if he does have that power, bring Schlatt back any time he wanted. And I’d ask you to get those bones from Quackity and Dream but that means going into the Server and there’s no way Dream would allow you in. Just, if Wilbur and Schlatt come back, promise me you’ll keep those three safe?”

“With my life,” Logan promised. “The death and manipulation of children are unacceptable.”

Puffy smiled, a breathy little snort coming from her, “You know, I always heard that legates were buttfuck insane. Glad to know you’re not.”

“I am not in the Coalition for fame and vainglory. Others might be, but I strive to make the world a better place, and such can only happen through the acquisition of knowledge and reason over fear. Of fact over fiction. Tubbo is, despite his demon aura and insistence to the contrary, still a child. And regardless of all of that he is a person who deserves to be in a safe and loving environment.”

“Yeah the Server’s never been that kind to minors,” Puffy scoffed. “It’s kinda[4] like taking a box of kittens and turning them into robotic war machines. Tubbo and Purpled just took to it better than the others.”

“How many minors are in the Server still?” Logan was concerned. The trio the heroes were dealing with already had their pasts marred by trauma and death, he’d never considered there were others still trapped in the same unsafe environment.

“You have three,” Puffy began counting. “Quackity still has Purpled and Fundy in Las Nevadas so they’re doing slightly better than they were before when they were working directly under Dream. You guys also got Jack, who just turned nineteen. But I would not trust Jack alone with Tommy, he threatened to kill him several times.”

“Thank you for the information,” Logan told her. “Anything else you can tell me about the other two minors?”

“So, Purpled is from a league of assassins and he loves money too much to defect,” Puffy dismissed. “You’d need to start paying him the big bucks to make him switch sides and Quackity already gave a good price. While Dream is paying his older brother through the nose to keep him out of Quackity’s hands as well. Punz is older than me though, so if Purpled went anywhere else it would be back with him. But Fundy is a different story. He’s Wilbur’s spawnling and Fundy is kinda[4] a basket case already. If you can get him away from Quackity, good, but I don’t imagine he’d go all that easily and Big Q’s only gonna[3] clamp down harder on him. Fundy and Tubbo were kinda[4] the server mascots back in the day since they were the babies of the group.”

“Everyone loved Tubbo,” Puffy smiled fondly before frowning sadly. “But that’s not the case anymore. He’s made himself a lot of enemies.”

“I see, thank you, I will relay the message to the others and we’ll do what we can for them,” Logan promised.

Puffy came off of the counter. “Thanks, no one in the Server really thought twice about those kids, they kinda[4] just tossed ‘em[8] around and personally I’m really glad you got the ones you do out of there. All three of ‘em[8] have been through enough.”

Then she went to poke her head out of the kitchen. “Tubbo, take yer friend and get out of my house, I don’t want you in here while we’re out.”

“Sure,” Tubbo kicked his feet up and already started for the front door. “Whate’er, go back ta snoggin’ yer girlfriend, I’ve got shit ta blow up.”[17]

And he was out, leaving Logan to immediately rush off after him, which got both of them out of the condo. Puffy watching them with a smile.

Tubbo, as it turns out, did not make good on his explosion test threats, he continued on his patrol, and then went back home to the Bee ‘n Boo. Walking in with a suit and his usual business-friendly smile. Logan, meanwhile, returned to the base to communicate with, especially Ethan, about what he had heard from Tubbo’s sister.

To clear his mind, Tubbo immediately went into his apiary to make sure his bees were alright. Which is exactly where Ranboo found Tubbo.

“Hey, Tubs,” Ranboo smiled and Tubbo managed a small smile back.

“Hey, bossman,” Tubbo was looking at him through the fringe of his hair, “how have things been?”

“Been alright,” Ranboo sat next to Tubbo, crossing his legs as he sat down. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Tubbo denied, trying to ignore what had happened in the morning.

“Because,” Ranboo mentally halted, “this morning you screamed and you looked really scared, and I didn’t know how to help.”

“C’mon,[2] big man, I’m fine,” Tubbo lied. “E’eryone[18] has the occasional nightmares, I was just jumpy. Happens ta[5] e’eryone[18].”

“Y—” Ranboo looked away. “Yeah, I guess, but you know you can talk to me? Right?”

“Yeah, of course, same fer[6] you,” Tubbo told him, both teens knowing that they kept secrets from each other.

“I’m thinking,” Tubbo redirected, “pizza fer dinner. Wanna order somethin’?”[19]

“Sure, yeah,” Ranboo agreed and after Tubbo finished caring for the apiary, and the pizza was delivered, they both retired to their dwelling and Michael was very happy to settle down with both his dads for the night. The little boy stuffing his face with pizza, and trying to feed some to his stuffed toy chicken. The three of them watched cartoons until Michael fell asleep and Tubbo tucked him into bed.

Tubbo and Ranboo hoped that tomorrow would be a better day for all three of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. come here

2. come on

3. going to

4. kind of

5. to

6. for

7. You want to head on over?

8. them

9. of

10. want to

11. and

12. fucking

13. weed

14. probably

15. Where are those really fuckin’ good ice lollies [popsicles] you bought?

16. even

17. Whatever, go back to kissing your girlfriend, I’ve got shit to blow up.

18. Everyone

19. pizza for dinner. Want to order something?

[slasherkisss]

Can I get a match up please? I’m a chubby latina who will die™️ without attention, I have brown curly hair and brown eyes as well! I love art and reading but never get to do anything because of time management. I’m talkative at times but I like the silence as well and prefer staying in versus going out often times. I love collecting funko pops and listening to music 💖 thank you!

I ship you with…

BILLY LENZ

You like attention? This boy is the boy for you. He all but LAVISHES you in attention, your form and mind being a constant source of obsession for Billy as he feels the need to stay by your side at all times and never let you go. He doesn’t help with time management, usually because he wants all of your attention just as much as you want his, but he compliments all of your work and wants to encourage you to make more cool things! He appreciates that you’d rather stay inside as well, though, and loves to spend time with you in his attic cuddling or watching fun movies. When you aren’t talkative, he is, and the two of you balance one another out pretty well as you introduce him to new things and he supports you through your interests as best as a wall gremlin can.

Other Possible Ships: Harry Warden, Brahms Heelshire

[mitchmarnier]

baby we can make it if we’re heart to heart

pairing: richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak

summary: prequel/companion fic to no you cant stop time and you cant fence lovebut you don’t necessarily need to read the first part to understand this one 

words count: 2.4k

read on ao3

The first time Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier ever talked about running away together, they were six years old and it hadn’t seemed serious. Richie had just found Eddie forced into one of the intermediate lockers by Henry Bowers nasty gremlins. It had taken several minutes for any sort of authority figure to finally take Richie’s claims seriously and the two boys now sat in the waiting area of the principals office, Eddie crying and Richie feeling like he was about to.

“I hate this place,” Eddie sniffled. Not really thinking about his actions at all, Richie’s arm jumped up to drape around Eddie’s shoulders. Richie’s arms were rather too long for his body; his mother told him it was a sign that he’d grown to be very tall, but right now it was just something else for kids to tease him about.

“Then I’ll take you away,” Richie had promised, tears stinging behind his pre-glasses eyes. “I’ll take you somewhere far, far, away from here where there’s no Bowers or anybody else that could hurt you again. Maybe we can even find somewhere in the world that doesn’t have germs.”

“Everywhere in the world has germs, stupid.” Eddie rolled his eyes, but he still cracked a smile. While Richie didn’t know how he’d get Eddie out of this place, or even what that meant, the smile made him want nothing more than to try.

///

The next time it came up, they were nine and sitting in Eddie’s attic. It was one of the only places Eddie had been allowed friends growing up, because his mother couldn’t make her way up the fragile stairs. She wasn’t a fan of Eddie spending too much time up there (“there’s so much dust up there, Eddie bear! You know it’s bad for your asthma to be around that.”) but she begrudgingly allowed him to send a few hours up there on Saturday afternoons with a friend.

That friend had once been Bill Denbrough, but had become Richie Tozier more and more. Eddie told himself that it was because Richie had better comics than Bill did, that his parents bought him more of a selection, but even at nine years old Eddie had that sinking feeling in his chest that he’d learn to associate with lying to himself about Richie Tozier.

“You know what, Eds,” Richie said, tossing his copy of Captain America. Eddie sighed to himself. Inviting Richie over for comic book reading left very little time for reading comic books, he knew.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said automatically. The nickname had only started within the last couple of months, and Eddie hated them. He didn’t know why they’d started, Richie had always called Stanley “Stan the Man” for as long as Eddie had known them. Lately though, he’d started picking up nicknames for Bill and Eddie, too, but Eddie felt like Richie attacked him with them more than anybody else.

Richie ignored the request, as he always did. “I think we should run away.”

Eddie wheezed and reached for his inhaler. “Run away? How would we live Richie?”

Richie just shrugged and smiled. “I’ll run away with you someday, Eddie Spaghetti. Watch me.”

“Stop calling me those stupid names, Trashmouth!”

///

It was brought up again they were twelve and Eddie was throwing it back in Richie’s face. Eddie had been leaning up against the brick wall behind the pharmacy, face starch white and broken arm cradled in his lap when Richie and Bill had found him.

After rushing over, Eddie had barely been able to get out the explanation of what had happened, what Bowers had done to him, through his sobs and shuddering wheezy breaths. Richie had forced the inhaler into Eddie’s mouth, releasing it. It hadn’t done anything to help Eddie’s wheezes and that’s when Richie’s true panic set in. Eddie was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die. As Bill ran off to find help, Eddie’s blazing eyes found Richie’s and he looked surprisingly coherent in that moment.

“You promised me,” Eddie choked out, voice shallow but angrier than Richie had ever heard. “You promised you’d take far away and they never hurt me again. You lied.”

Tears blurred past Richie’s eyes. He hadn’t lied, he hadn’t. He was going to take Eddie Kaspbrak away from Derry and the terrible people in it if it was the last thing he ever did.

“I’m going to snap it back into place.”

“DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

The snap of Eddie’s bone and then Eddie’s blood curdling scream echoed through the empty alley.

//

Richie promised Eddie again when they were fifteen and kissing.

“No, no, no,” Eddie gasped suddenly, pulling away. He crawled silently away from Richie, not far enough to break all content, but enough to let Richie know not to lean back into his space.  Eddie glanced around the area frantically. It was nearing on nine (oh god, he’d need to go home soon for curfew. Fuck, fuck, how could he look at his mother after this?) and he knew that the quarry was empty but he couldn’t control the burning anxiety in his chest. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Richie’s face curled up into confusion. A deep frown burned across his lips, lips that were still tingling. “I don’t…”

“It’s wrong!” Eddie whined. “We can’t, okay? What would people think? My mother, your parents, everybody in this stupid ass town?”

“I don’t care what they think,” Richie said, almost harshly. “I don’t. Eddie, I love you. I have loved you since I was like, eight.”

Tears burned Eddie’s eyes and he kept his gaze stubborningly on Richie’s dirty blue vans. “Richie, it’s not that simple, you know that. Maybe… maybe if we lived somewhere else? I know there are places that are better but, Rich, we don’t.”

“Then we’ll go there.” Richie promised, his voice softer and more genuine than Eddie thought he’d ever heard the Trashmouth sound. “I swear to God, Eddie, we’ll go. We’ll go, okay? We will.”

“That would be years from now,” Eddie said quietly. “I can’t ask to you wait until we live somewhere else to be with me, Richie. And I just… we couldn’t be together like real couples here. That’s not fair to you.”

“How come you get to decide what’s fair to me?” Richie laughed softly. “Didn’t I just say I’ve loved you since I was eight? I’d take being with you anyway we can be, Eds. It doesn’t matter if people know or not. We know.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Trashmouth Tozier?” Eddie scoffed teasingly, his voice thick with his tears. Richie let out a similar laugh.

“Get the fuck back over here,” Richie gestured towards his lap. “I wasn’t done making out with you, Kaspbrak.”

“aaaaaand there he is,” Eddie giggled, already quickly crawling over.

///

When a sixteen year old Richie brought it up next, he wasn’t even talking to Eddie. Stan had always known about him and Eddie, even if nobody else did. Stan had been aware of Richie’s aggressively painful crush on Eddie Kaspbrak since before Richie even had been. It had only been logical that he’d told Stan when they finally gotten together.

“I��m going to spend the rest of my life with him,” Richie said wistfully, staring up at the ceiling in Stan’s bedroom. Stan had been sitting cross legged on his floor, flipping through a comic book. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at his best friend.

“Eddie?” Stan asked, as if he didn’t already know. Richie turned to give a disbelieving look.

“No, Ben,” Richie snarked. “I’ve secretly been cheating on Eddie, the Love of My Life, with him this whole entire time. Surprise.”

Stan let out scoff. “Go back to being a sappy in love idiot, please.”

“Happily,” Richie said. “I was saying that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Eddie. I am going to marry him.”

Stan frowned slightly, biting back the response that gay people couldn’t get married. He knew this and he knew that Richie knew it, too. There wasn’t any harm in letting him ignore it, even if it was just for one afternoon in the safety of his best friend’s bedroom.

“Not here,” Richie continued. “We couldn’t… not here. We’re gonna run away. Maybe after graduation or something. I don’t know how, but we will.

“I’d help you,” Stan said, turning back to his comic book. He turned the distinct ruffling on Richie sitting up on the bed.

“Wait, what?” Richie squeaked. “Really?”

“Sure. We could consider it my teenage rebellion.”

///

When Richie dropped the bomb on Eddie, he was seventeen, a few months shy of being eighteen. It was Eddie’s birthday, and everybody had already gone home from his gathering. Stan had given Richie a knowing look when Richie had said he was spending the night, but nobody else had questioned it. They never had. It was routine at this point. They’d all come to expect it.

“Hey, Eds,” Richie said mildly. “Remember when I told you that I’d take you away from here?”

“Uh, yeah, Rich,” Eddie laughed, tossing his boyfriend a pair of sweats he kept there for sleeping. “You say it at least once a week, how could I forget?”

“I know, I know, it’s just,” Richie fiddled with the pants. “It’s your birthday. You’re eighteen now, and I… I’ll be eighteen in a few months.”

Eddie raised his brow, watching his boyfriends’ nervous, jerking hands and the way he nibbled on his bottom lip. Eddie’s heart began to race, Richie couldn’t really be talking about what Eddie thought he was talking about… could he?

“We’ll both be adults,” Richie continued, his speaking voice slowly getting faster. “They couldn’t, they couldn’t… control us anymore, you know? They couldn’t..”

“Rich,” Eddie cut him off, heart practically in his throat. “I love you but please, for the love of God, get to the point.”

“We could go,” Richie cried out suddenly. “We could leave and nobody could stop us or make us come back here ever. Just like I promised, Eds, I’d never break that. I’d never-“

“I know,” Eddie said softly. He sat on the bed beside Richie, grabbing his fidgeting hands and pulling them close to him. “I know I wouldn’t. Hell, Richie, you made that promise when we were like… seven-“

“Six,” Richie corrected quietly.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly and he sucked in a deep breath. “I just, I know you mean it. I mean it, too, I always have, okay? But a few months from now, are you sure you’re ready to do this now?”

“I’ve been ready for years,” Richie said, voice so full of truth and vulnerability that Eddie wanted to cry. “I’m ready whenever you’re ready.

Eddie looked his boyfriend up and down slowly, from his messy halo of brown curls and glasses crooked from being broken so many times. To his chapped lips and stained Hawaiian print T-shirt that even at seventeen years old Richie didn’t feel embarrassed to be seen wearing. His jeans were ripped, not from style but from ridiculous amounts of accidents caused by limb he hadn’t quite gotten used to yet, and the mismatched socks on his feet. Eddie swallowed hard.

“I think I-“ Eddie nodded, a slow smile growing across his face. “I think I’m ready.”

Richie’s face broke into the widest grin Eddie though he’d ever seen and he kissed Eddie, hard. There was no thought, no rhythm, just a complete mess of overwhelming emotions that neither knew how to describe. Once they pulled apart, both still grinning messes, Richie reached back for the sweats.

Eddie grabbed them from him and chunked them across the room. Richie started at him, brow crinkled. Eddie launched himself into Richie’s lap, clasping his hands behind Richie’s neck and stared deep into his eyes.

“You don’t need them,” Eddie said firmly. Richie blinked for a moment before his face blazed with understanding.

“Eddie, Eds, are you…” Richie cleaned his throat, hoping it would clear the hoarse sound. “You…?

“I’m ready,” Eddie whispered as he sealed their lips together again.

///

Richie was the one to step out of the truck first, walking towards where Stan stood at the end of the driveway. His best friend gave him a sad smile and Richie felt a terrible burning in his chest and stomach. Wordlessly, Richie launched himself forward and yanked Stan into his arms. Even though it was Beverly he always had height wars with, it was Stan whom he’d always been bouncing back and forth between with. Richie now had just enough inches on Stan that he had to tilt his head to bury it into his neck.

“Oh, fuck, man,” Richie said, voice gruff and quiet. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, brother,” Stan whispered back.

Richie kept a hand clasped to the side of Stan’s neck as he pulled away, and nearly lost it himself when he saw the misty look in Stan’s eyes. “Alright,” Richie cleared his throat. “No fucking crying, you hear me? Jesus Christ.”

Stan swallowed visibly and pursed his lips. “Rich-“ He cut himself off as he caught sight of Eddie approaching. He pulled the smaller into a hug, too; a softer hug, a shorter one. Richie could’ve burst into tears in that moment, could’ve turned around and gone back home just watching his best friend and the love of my life hugging. Thoughts of potentially never getting to see that again ate at Richie’s mind.

He forced the thoughts away, there wasn’t a choice. Not really.

“Thank you so much, Stan,” Eddie whispered as he pulled away. If Eddie was wiping at his eyes, nobody chose to acknowledge it.

“Yeah,” Stan replied, voice cracking like it always had during puberty. Stan had had worse than anybody aside from Richie. Richie had promptly called them The Crack Brothers for a week until Stan told him that if he didn’t stop, he was going to shove a clarinet so far up his ass that it would come out of his mouth. “It’s no problem- really.”

“Teenage rebellion,” Richie said simply. Eddie crinkled his brow in confusion but Stan shot Richie a smirk, and really, that had been the reaction he’d been looking for. “Come on, good chaps,” Richie said, letting an arm drape around Eddie’s shoulders. “We have tones of work ahead of us, on this lovely fortnight!”

“Oh my God,” Eddie complained with a grin. “Do not do the British guy right now, I beg you.”

“Especially since you don’t know anything about British slang, clearly.” Stan added, knocking his elbow against Richie’s.

“And here I thought you loved me.”

“How disappointing for you.”

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Building Blocks of a Family:  Soos

More Stanmily au!  (Better late than never, am I right?)

Word count: 1,045

”Okay kiddo, here ya go.” Stan stood back from the bed he had just gotten set up against the wall.  “Yer room is all set up and ready fer ya to move in.”  Soos had been crashing on the couch in the living room while his Abuelita was in the hospital after tumbling down a staircase.  Stan still couldn’t believe the old lady had asked him to share custody of the kid with her, now that she had to move into a retirement home.  He turned back to the doorway, but he didn’t see any of the kids standing where they had been only a few moments before.

Stan stuck his head out into the hall.  Down a ways he saw his suit coat and fez lying in a lump on the floor with a lock of red hair sticking out.  Stan walked over and crouched next to the lump.  Wendy was burrowed under the coat, and the fez was pulled down over her eyes.  “Huh.  I don’t remember leaving these here.”  Stan poked the jacket, a small smile coming to his face when Wendy giggled.  The girl pushed the fez back off of her eyes.  “Where’d yer siblings go?”

"That way.”  Wendy pointed down the hall that lead to the attic staircase.  He turned the corner and found Soos sitting on the bottom step of the stairs with three toddlers sitting in front of him and watching with fascination as he pulled the collar of his large Mystery Shack shirt up over his head, like a turtle pulling back into its shell, then popping his head back out with a cry of “Peek-a-boo doods!”

Mabel gave a delighted shriek, flopping backwards onto the hall floor and laughing louder than a three year old should be able to.  Mason just sat and stared at Soos in apparent amazement.  And sitting in between the twins and clapping happily was the infant daughter of Gravity Falls resident rich snobs, Pacifica Northwest.  Stan had taken up the lucrative Northwest nanny gig a little over three months earlier, after a series of bribes and forged papers, and honestly, it was a decision he did not regret.  It paid well, and Pacifica was a surprisingly sweet kid given who her parents were.

Stan scowled slightly at the thought of the Northwest’s.  What kind of parents had a butler drop their only kid off at a stranger’s house for over ten hours a day without a second thought?  Stan brushed his rising anger aside; he had kids to take care of, and he didn’t want them to think he was mad at one of them.  The last thing Stan wanted was to be like his father, making his kids worry about him getting upset at them.

“Hey, you kid’s havin’ a party without me?”  Stan scooped the three toddlers up amid shrieks of laughter.  He easily balanced all three squirming children in his arms, twisting his face away from tiny hands that were reaching for his eyes and glasses.

“The tiny doods kept tryin’ to get up into the attic, so I had to distract ‘em.”  Soos popped to his feet with a grin.

“Good job kid.  I got yer room all set up if ya wanna unpack and get settled.”  Stan shifted his grip on the squirming infants, keeping a close eye on Pacifica who seemed like she was trying to jump to the floor.

“Hmm, I think I’ll do that after dinner.”  Soos reached up and grabbed the blonde baby for Stan.  “These little doods look like they’re gettin’ hungry.  Isn’t that right Paz?”  He didn’t seem bothered when Pacifica reached up and grabbed clumps of his hair.

“I’m hungry!”  Wendy piped up.

“Food!”  Mabel shrieked in Stan’s ear.  “Foodfoodfoodfood!”

Stan gave a small chuckle.  “Alright ya little gremlins, dinner it is.  Whadda you kids want?”

“Stancakes!”  The kids all chorused.

Stan crept backward out of his room, shutting the door on the twins in their crib in the corner as silently as possible.  He turned, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Soos standing barely two feet behind him, silent as a ghost.  “What the- Soos!”

“I got Wendy to finally go to bed Mr. Pines.”  The boy whispered as they tiptoed down the hall away from the sleeping infants.  “And one’a the butler doods came and got Paz.”

“Was it Big-Nose or Killer-Eyebrows?”

“It was a new dood with a mustache that looks like a broom is glued to his face.”  Soos waggled his fingers under his nose and giggled.

Stan gave a small snort.  “Did ya call yer Abuelita yet?” The old lady would have his head if she didn’t hear from Soos at least once a day.

“Yeah, right after you went to put the twins down.  She said ta tell you to make sure I eat my fruits and veggies.

They stopped in front of Soos’ new room.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”  Stan opened the door.  “So, uh, here we are.  Whadda ya think of yer bedroom?”

“It’s perfect Mr. Pines!” Soos cheered, smiling up at Stan. All of the kid’s things were still packed in boxes stacked against the wall, blankets were piled on top of the unmade bed, and the paint was chipped and peeling in the corners, but the way Soos was looking at everything you’d think Stan had just given him a penthouse suite or the keys to a French summer home.

Stan gave a small chuckle. “Y’know, since yer living here now ya don’t have ta call me Mr. Pines.”

Soos gaped up at Stan.  “Really?”

“Uh, yeah.  Just call me ‘Stan’ if ya want.”

The boy jumped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Stan’s waist.  “Okay!  Thanks Mr. P- Stan!”

Stan awkwardly patted Soos’ shoulder.  “Uh, yeah, sure.  Now, would ya quit wrinkling my suit and get in bed?  Ya have school tomorrow.”

”Yes sir Stan sir!” Soos gave a goofy little salute that Stan couldn’t help but smile at.  The boy turned to head into his room, but stopped and turned back to Stan. “Um, what’re you gonna do with...those?” He pointed down the hall to where more than a dozen wax figures, the previous occupants of his room, were stacked haphazardly.

“I’ll...find somewhere to put ‘em.”

[picturebookmakers]

Maja Kastelic

In this post, Maja talks about her debut picturebook, ‘Deček in Hiša’ (A Boy and a House). This beautifully illustrated wordless story is published in Slovenia by Mladinska knjiga, and is a homage to children’s literature and illustration.

Visit Maja Kastelic’s blog

Maja: ‘If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.’ —Marc Chagall

‘A Boy and a House’ is a silent book about a little boy’s morning wandering, and also, or even more, a story about going up and following the light, about curiosity and daring, getting lost and finding, friendship, secrets, and also about hoping for and believing in happy endings. I also wished to make it as a homage to literature, illustration, and to the nostalgic beauty of old times and timeless things.

It was my first picturebook and it took me two years to finish it. Its making was full of everything – from enthusiasm to despair, paralysing uncertainties and little miracles on a small scale that seemed the world to me. A lot about the book changed while working on it, but the main idea remained the same: I wanted to make a book I’d give to a dear friend.

I studied painting while working as a fresco retoucher, but I’ve loved books and admired illustration for as long as I can remember. I’d been wishing I could somehow work in illustration for many years (and through two pregnancies), but there was never enough time, or the time wasn’t right, or I just didn’t know how to do it properly. So I just kept on daydreaming till I finally decided to enter the Slovenian Biennial of Illustration.

I’d never worked on a book project before, so I had to come up with my own story. Sketches of a boy I made some time earlier made me think about the need to seek the light and the effort we make to rise – and how we must believe in finding beauty. So I did three illustrations of a boy following a light through a mysterious old house. The illustrations were awarded in the Slovenian Biennial of Illustration, which encouraged me to make a storyboard and send it to Mladinska knjiga, the main publishing house in Slovenia. There were no words, at first because I just didn’t think about it, and later as a decision: wordless books are so universal and accessible, but their capacity to adapt to the reader’s perspective also makes them unique and personal.

The first version goes like this: A boy walks to school in the early morning when it’s still dark, but stops at the open doors of a lighted house. There is a cat who leads the boy through the labyrinth of rooms and staircases until they arrive on the roof to find the spectacular view of a brand new day. For me, it was primarily a metaphor about daring to set out into the unknown and pursuing what you think is good. However, the end seemed too open and not satisfactory enough for the reader, and there were also a few flaws within the logic of the narrative – like who is turning on the lights and if anybody lives in the house – so my editors wisely thought we should add some content and come up with a different ending.

Many notes, meetings and storyboard sketches later, we let the boy find drawings on the floor of the house, had him collect them while following the cat to the attic, and added a girl making paper planes which they release over the town together. This added much to the book and the metaphor was even better now: one of friendship and finding a way to one another.

The next thing was to define the look of the book – the appearance and the atmosphere. It felt right to place a story in an undefined, nostalgic past; I wanted to give it a sense of some childhood memory of discovery and wonder.

I filled up the scenography with my belongings and hints of what I admire. This was partly just putting in things I look at all the time, but I also imagined the house as a space which contained my thoughts, memories and ideas. It was very personal to me, but I also wanted it to be meaningful in some general sense as well – as a tribute to culture and playfulness, and to literature and the beauty found in little things. So there’s Grimm and Andersen Streets, proverbs and quotations on the fronts of buildings and walls (like Bucay’s ‘Let it go, let life surprise you’), real books, some playing cards, Ghibli’s soot gremlin, and framed illustrations by the artists I admire on the wall of the hallway – and also my own illustrations (two self-portraits), the names of my sons and a note for the reader (from the housekeeper, Maja), my porcelain ware, our gramophone and the wooden stairs from our house.

One of the most important parts of the narrative and of the atmosphere was the light: the chiaroscuro to create the tension and cocoon-like roundness of the space. I sketched a number of old houses and their interiors (I looked at photographs of old Slovenian town houses). I like their grandness and elegance, but also their dusky mysteriousness.

Working on tonal sketches seemed very natural but I had no idea how to do the final artwork. So I did a number of technique experiments; I tried pencils, inks, gouache, acrylics, watercolour and all the combinations of the above you can imagine. It was quite a factual, probably too objective way to handle the process, and I felt very stressed – till I finally realised I had to stop acting like a catalogue, and just come up with something that would be so immanently mine that it could hold the whole process together and allow me to play.

I later found Chagall’s famous quotation about how nearly everything works when you create from the heart and it proved true so many times later on in the process. I got another great piece of practical advice from my editor: to work on all the pieces at the same time in order to attain the wholeness and cohesion of the book. I was used to mixing pigments from my restoration work, and I like this alchemical witchery, so I took watercolour tubes and made my own dark mixture of umber, Van Dyke brown and Ivory black (it ended up as just another black, but the feeling was better). Another important factor was that I finally found a perfect watercolour paper that allowed many washes and layers without smearing.

I wanted the illustrations to convey the feeling of nostalgia we get when looking at old photographs. In fact, making them strongly resembled developing in the darkroom. Illustrations were done with single dark tone on very wet paper, and it was much like immersing the photographic paper into the developer so the image slowly emerged out of the whiteness. I was working in steps, constantly shifting from big-area colouring to finer details, gradual darkening. Adding depth and moulding objects was very sculptural, while the line work, patterns and inscriptions felt like delicate embroidery.

I painted all the scenes in black, and then added red iron oxide, burnt umber and raw sienna.

In contrast to the exciting and sometimes stressful first stage (developing a story, taking notes, looking for inspiration and experimenting with different media), I remember working on the final artwork as a very calm and natural process – as if I just let it all happen, without too much thinking or having an exact plan.

The process was very important for me – all of it. The discoveries and doubts, the practical knowledge and the failures, everything I’ve learned and the things I’ve forgotten... But I think the most valuable lesson for me, as an artist and a person, was becoming aware of the importance of following that inner voice, and sometimes, letting things come and go their own way.

Illustrations © Maja Kastelic.

Buy this picturebook

Deček in Hiša / A Boy and a House

Maja Kastelic

Mladinska knjiga, Slovenia, 2015

In this wordless story, a boy follows a cat into a mysterious house. In each room, he finds and collects pieces of paper and follows the cat all the way to the top of the house, where he discovers something surprising and wonderful.

This beautifully illustrated picturebook by Maja Kastelic has received numerous accolades including the Hinko Smrekar Award and a White Ravens Award.

Slovenian: Mladinska knjiga

German: Bohem Verlag

French: Alice Éditions

Italian: Casa Editrice Le Lettere

Spanish: Ediciones Castillo (Macmillan)

Swedish: Atrium Forlag

Bulgarian: Emas Publishing

Chinese (Simplified): The Petrel Publishing House

[turtles-are-queer]

Okay so like pattons a human right

And he moves into this old GGGGIIIAAANANTTTT house

That has demons ghosts and vampires in it

Right

And logans a fucking demon

But patton doesnt take his shit and just becomes a weird roomate

And virgils this ghost boi and hes just kinda there

Like "sup how are ya"

"AAAAAHHH virgil please stop just apearing its spooky"

One day pattons trying to catch this bat in his attic and remys just like "uckin hands off me gremlin" and pattons just "oh! Sorry i didnt realize!" And remys just *"human form" but like a vampire* "ya bitch, lets get some damn starbucks"

Romans his friend

But hes like a witch

But not like the real witches yknow, hes like harry potter wand steryotyp, definetly rides a broom just to be an extra fuck

So like this house is fuckin huge too okay. It was super cheap because ghost vamp and 2 demons. Its supperrr old and like a mansion but its spooky

Patton doesnt know its spooky when he buys it

But the moment he enters the house all 4 of them are just "kay we cant kick this one out look, no ones swept the floor in 5 years, he cleaned the damn window"

Oh yeah okay deceits a demon

But also like hes one trying to be a normal demon but it doesnt fuking work

Like *standing ominously in a hallway with glowing eyes*

Patton: "logannnnn hes doing it again!"

Logan: go to bed deceit, we cant keep doing this

So roman is liek "a moved huh? How is it?"

"Kinda weird? I have a few roomates you should meet!"

"I thought... You were living alone?"

"Yeah thats what i thought too"

Roman comes over and remy just slides down the staircase like "WHO BROUGHT SILVER INTO THIS DAMN HOUSE PATTON YOU K N O W I CANT DO SILVER"

Patton gets a text like "who is wearing the anti demon symbol? Youre upseting de"

Virgils just like "oooooo* breaks a plate on his head*

Patton: "Virgil! This is our guest!"

They all become good friends after a while but the only thing holding them together is

patton

Remy sometimes asks for a drink

Patton gives him starbucks

Remy is always like "ou know thats nowhat i meant" and still drinks it anyway

Roman definetly is over at that house every other night

12 guest bed rooms? Hell yeah sleep overs!

And he does magic ALL. THE. TIME. No thoughts over consequences

Just "hey can i do an explosion spell ive never tried on this apple as it sits on your head?"

"SURE!"

Logan, who has grown attached: no the fuck you wont

" deceit can you please stop the ominous steps! I have to go to work tommorow i need sleep!"

Roman accidently introduces virgil to emo music and suddenly patton has to give virgil a curfew kn when hes allowed to blast music in the basement cause he needs sleep

Roman "AH FUCK A BIRD" *frantically swatting at remy*

Remy: THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME? THE SECOND YOU TAKE OFF THAT SILVER EARRING IM GONNA FUCKING TAKE ALL OF YOUR BLOOD

Roman yeets another plate into the abyss, smashing it on the fridge. "Boys! Come on please someones gotta replace these plates!"

Roman and virgil: "sorry pat... "

I hate everything my first thought was Patton punishing them with "get on top of the fridge! Get up there!" vine

" this hoUSE IS A FUCKING N I G H T M A R E"

Virgil: "No shit sherlock theres 54 things in this house that could kill you and im not even counting the supernatural yet"

One of the 54 things on Virgil's list is the blender. He does Not Trust It

No one knows when he died, least of all him.  He definetly is suspicious of all technology

Remy uses a perfect mix of old slang and new slang

He cant exactly.. CONTROL some of his demon like qualitys and he hates it. He tries to be profesional and stay calm but then hes crawling on the ceiling and pattons got the spray bottle again and hes like "fuck"

Sometimes tries to murder people

Has tries to murder roman twice

Got the spray bottle

Has stopped

I wouldn't expect anything less

Please tell me he's got a pavlovian fear response to any and all spray bottles now

No not all spray bottles, for instance if he sees a bottle of windex he thinks "thank god, someones cleaning" but if he sees the " bad demon" spray bottle then he immedietly focuses harder on not doing The Thing™

The bottles just filled with Water. Thats it. Its not holy water or anything cause patton doesnt wanna hurt him, but he keeps it in the fridge so its cold water and wakes him up a bit and makes him more aware of what hes doing

Deceit sometimes goes in timeout within a salt circle if hes killed something or someone

Salt circle of shame

Deceit and remy work tagteam. Deceit murders them, remy gets the blood. But they dont just like murder anyone, only peices of shit like sometimes de will be being all spooky in an ally and see some asshat trying to rape someone, immedietly murders them and remy gets a Nice Sip

Virgil knows but doesnt see a reason to bring it up since hes seen alot of murders in his life.

No one knows how

Hes ominous

Only i know for now

Remy apoligises for having virgil watch since he looks and acts like a teenager, but virgil just shrugs and says that. Remy is Suspicious™

He thinks he's kidding at first but it happens again and Virgil is, if possible, even more deadpan about it, and then he /suspects/

Patton is Worried™ when virgil says stuff like that. Like pattons a bit decensitized to death after a while of living with them and one day he like "oh virgi! Dont look over there deceit left another corpse! Ugh its just awful"

"Ive seen worse"

"Virge no-"

Pattin gives logan a pair of his old glasses since logan cant fuckin see

-

Virgil got long hair fuck you

-

Roman introduced virgil to memes. Worst mistake hes ever made

-

“Where you ever human logan?”

“At a time, yes. However, i do not remember anything from that time in my life”

“Was deceit?”

“No, patton. Hes never known a shred of humanity.”

“Who did this to you two?”

“I wish i knew… i would assume only satan himself could turn a man into a hideous beast like me”

“I dont think youre a monster lo..”

“..... Thank you Patton”

-

Logan and deceit eat souls. In this universe, a sould is stored in the heart. Already dead people dont have souls anymore, they have already became a ghost, or moved to an afterlife.

No you cannot eat a ghost.

Souls taste different

Pattons would taste like berries and hot chocolate.

There is a strict “no eating patton” rule set in place by virgil

Yes, this rule does extend to remy

No he cannot have “just a sip”

-

Virgil does NOT like the appliences in the house.

Hes scared of the blender.

After patton had fully moved in, he was wandering around the kitchen one night and pushed a button on the blender

When it started making noise and moving virgil promptly screamed and threw it at the wall

He apoligized to patton once they became friends.

He is scared of the washing machine too

-

Reny started living there about 50 years ago

Virgil TRIED to get him to leave before they could eat him

Remy assured him he had no soul since he was a vampire and just kept coming back to sleep there.

They sorta just accepted it  

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Cinepocalypse Review] THE TERROR OF HALLOW'S EVE is an 80's Practical Effects Dream

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/cinepocalypse-review-terror-hallows-eve-80s-practical-effects-dream/

[Cinepocalypse Review] THE TERROR OF HALLOW'S EVE is an 80's Practical Effects Dream

The Terror Of Hallow’s Eve opens with the title card “Based on True Events,” which is a familiar conceit for many horror films. In this case the “truth” is ingrained in the film’s premise: director Todd Tucker (best known for his prolific career as a successful special effects make-up artist) really was bullied as a teen. From all accounts, however, he did not use these experiences to call forth a demon to vanquish his tormentors.

The Terror of Hallow’s Eve is wish fulfillment for any horror fan who had a rough go of it in their youth. Set on devil’s night 1981, Tim (Caleb Thomas) is your average 15 year old weirdo with a love of horror, special effects and pranking neighbourhood girls by showering them in fake blood. Exhausted single mother Linda (Sarah Lancaster) is worried about him, but her attempts to protect him – calling him “Timmy” in public and dressing down teen bullies on his behalf – only makes things worse. It’s obvious that they love each other, but Tim has misdirected his anger and frustration at his absent father Bobby (Christian Kane) towards his put-upon mother, despite the fact that flashbacks confirm that Bobby was a shit dad.

Events come to a head when Tim is beaten up by bullies Brian (JT Neal) and his buddies, Spaz (Mcabe Gregg) and Chuck (Niko Papastefanou) on Hallow’s Eve. While stumbling home, Tim discovers a pumpkin in the woods, carves it and, thanks to his bloody nose, inadvertently calls upon The Trickster (Doug Jones) to grant his wish: to scare the boys to death as revenge.

These early sections of the film are the strongest. Screenwriter Zack Ward and director Tucker fill the period film with horror callbacks such as old Fangoria magazines and movie posters on the walls of Tim‘s garage/horror prop workshop. Even the film’s opening scene, featuring three girls making plans on the walk home from school, evokes John Carpenter’s Halloween (the film also includes two of Carpenter’s tracks on the soundtrack).

April (Annie Read) is walking into spiderwebs in The Terror of Hallow’s Eve

Most importantly this first third of the film dedicates substantial time to character development. Tim‘s problems are fully realized, as is his overactive imagination, visualized as both a jump scare in the attic and a Fast Times At Ridgemont High-style vision of Brian‘s sympathetic girlfriend, April (Annie Read). The relationship between Tim and his mother, as well as their tenuous financial status, encourages our investment in their situation and makes us care about their safety.

While horror fans will undoubtedly enjoy the imaginative scenarios that Tim and The Trickster unleash on their victims for the rest of the film, The Terror on Hallow’s Eve makes a fatal flaw by shifting its attention away from Tim. While the attack sequences are suitably exciting and the film is a love letter to practical effects (which I am down for), the decision to focus on the one-dimensional bullies that we know nothing about doesn’t make sense. In the dreamscapes lorded over by The Trickster (he appears as a scarecrow, a spider, a banshee and – my favourite – stringless marionettes with tiny knives), Tim never appears to dole out the punishment on his attackers. If the film’s entire message is that Tim must stand up for himself, his lack of involvement is counter intuitive. Add to this Linda being sidelined (she more or less disappears for two-thirds of the film), the abrupt nature of Brian‘s attack in comparison to the other boys’ (so brief that I thought it was a fake-out) and the unnecessary coda* and it feels as though Zack and Tucker lost sight of what they were trying to achieve.

*Don’t even get me started on the extended epilogue in the mental hospital. The five minute sequence feels aimless and sluggish, existing solely to tease a potential sequel and pad the run time (the film clocks in at a scant 80 minutes).

These criticisms shouldn’t suggest that the film isn’t watchable, however. Although the film loses its emotional and thematic focus when the bloodletting begins, the effects and Jones’ performance alone makes The Terror of Hallow’s Eve worth seeking out. As you would expect, Jones’ The Trickster is flawlessly entertaining and creepy. And while I wouldn’t describe the film as scary, the practical effects used to bring Tim‘s imagination to life are fun and well-executed; they’re evocative of films like Labyrinth and Gremlins, which feels right in line for a film set in the early 80s.

All in all, you likely won’t leave a screening of The Terror of Hallow’s Eve frightened, but you will leave entertained.

2.5/4 eberts

  The Terror Of Hallow’s Eve made its North American premiere at Cinepocalypse on Nov 3. The genre festival runs through November 9th.