#especially since this prompt also fits in well with the spooky season

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 302

Adjective: Oozing

Noun: Mushroom

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Oozing: (of a fluid) slowly trickling or seeping out of something, or flowing in a very gradual way; slowly exuding or discharging a viscous fluid; giving a powerful impression of (a quality)

Mushroom: a fungal growth that typically takes the form of a domed cap on a stalk, with gills on the underside of the cap; a thing resembling a mushroom in shape; a pale pinkish-brown color

[cloveroctobers]

SAVE YOUR BREATH — Armando Aretas [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: This was inspired by the show FROM and this fic has a slight crossover with the show that I squeezed into this plot. I initially had no plans to take it further than a certain symbol. I was supposed to end it there (while also keeping this short) but I kept writing lol! If you haven’t watched you should for this season especially! Also loosely inspired by Midnight mass 🫣 & just know picking songs that fit the spooky vibe or fall aesthetic is also a job y’all 😆

S/N: If you’re a reader who’s been impacted by the hurricane(s) I hope you and your loved ones are safe during this difficult time! 🫶🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: "Give me one good reason not to kill you." "I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible." + SCENARIOS — 6. Visiting an apple orchard.

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando wants to avenge your death but your attempts to make him let it slide, brings on a new level of danger he’s not all that prepared for.

🏷️: @violetmuses + @believeinthefireflies95 + @nobodygetsza

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Giving Armando space wasn’t really effective since he can still feel you hovering, whether you were behind him lounging against the wall and slicing up some apples to eat while you kept quiet for the most part, or just you simply letting your ghost eyes chill through him.

He’s been on his computer for weeks and didn’t want any help. Any wink of sleep he got was not something he allowed on his own, he’s been functioning off caffeine and eye drops to keep him going trying to track down your killer. Mike’s been telling him to let him handle it, since there was a part of Mike that knew Armando would be back to his old ways, especially after losing you. Now that Mike was slowly building something with his son, he didn’t want Armando to throw it all away. Which definitely brought off heated energy because who was Mike Lowrey to tell Armando how to get justice? Armando had his mother to thank for that, even in death, she was still controlling his life. It has been months since he was on the run and since you played a part in his hiding, that meant you had to serve time, whereas Mike pulled a deal for Armando to work for AMMO that would amount up to the added time he needed to serve, You got the short end of the stick.

No shock there—and to make a long story short, you gave as good as you could in prison but Armando’s mother had it planned that if something were to ever happen to her, she had people that would take you out as well, since she had this unhealthy jealousy when it came to you and Armando.

Nothing ever become of you and Armando but she saw it before you two ever had the chance to fully explore.

So when Mike had to deliver the news of your passing, Armando felt like what was left of him died.

Your relationship with his mother was also very complex. Isabel Aretas was the one who stole you from your own family at just eight years old. Nothing Isabel did made logical sense, you would think that the one person that made your child happy, you would still want your child to have some sort of happiness so that they wouldn’t be alone right? Wrong. Isabel strived to be the only one in her son’s life, out of some unresolved issues and because your bond with Armando was also strong, she wanted to take that with her as well.

It took time but it happened.

In her mind, this would make Armando the deadliest kingpin there could ever be. It builds character, which was her excuse for masking her love as manipulation. When you got away from her, you wanted Armando out too but that resulted in many things with Isabel calling you a, “ungrateful bitch,” and Armando being too blind to see how Isabel was going to get them both killed.

She almost succeeded.

“I think you should just let this go, you’re able to start this new life now. Even if you hate it, maybe it’ll be worth it.” You tried to tell Armando, who wouldn’t bring his red eyes away from the screen.

His brows furrowed as he harshly clicked around on his mouse, “No. I won’t. I’m doing this for us.”

“It’s not going to bring me back.” You state, “Karma will get them one way or another.”

“I don’t have faith in that.”

But he had the answers!

“Well maybe you should have some faith in me.”

“Maybe if you minded your business, you wouldn’t be where you’re at.” Armando snapped, which caught you off guard.

You wouldn’t make excuses for him.

That was low and he knew it because his eyes clenched not long after those words escaped his lips. “I’m sorry—

A gush of wind was all that he heard, which means that you actually left him on his own. It was for a minute too, he kept calling out to you like a crazy person in his apartment as the days went on but you wouldn’t break. Sure he was persistent but you were also very stubborn and didn’t mind making him sweat it out.

There was no way he tried to shift his mother’s actions and deem them as your fault. She took you from your family as a child, causing an accident where you couldn’t remember the last eight years of your life—only the new image the Aretas’ built—killed your father instantly in that accident, left your mother in the hospital with a lengthy recovery just to worry herself into sickness and die not knowing if you were ever safe, made you believe you were living with the Aretas out of false pretenses, made everything so squeaky clean that for years you couldn’t find any true history of your past life, tried to mold you into her one of her many soldiers, continued to lie to about not only you but Armando’s upbringing, and gaslit the both of you once those truth’s came to light.

Isabel was taken out of the game first but at least you were able to go out with a smile on your face, Mrs. Aretas couldn’t say the same.

When you did return, it was when Armando found out the whereabouts of your killer. She was free from jail, ironically five months after your murder—the system pinned it on another inmate—and would be down at the apple orchard with her little family.

“Arman…this isn’t a good idea.” You appeared behind him, as he’s flicking the collar of his leather jacket up after sipping into it.

He scoffs, “Appearing from the shadows today? After you literally ghosted me? is rich I have to say.”

“And I had every right to. This vengefulness is making you sick, haven’t you learned this yet? What is it going to take for you to get it through your thick ass skull, huh?” You follow him as he opens the secret compartment in his room that contained all of his weapons.

You were positive Mike did not know about this stash. Armando probably shouldn’t have any of this kind of weaponry in this temporary home Mike had him set up in. Regardless, Armando was smart he wouldn’t just take these handouts since he knew they came at a cost and had numerous bunkers over the globe. If he wanted to be gone again, he could be.

“You need to get out of my way,” Armando says to you as you simply cross your arms after he comes back out with a case.

You tilt your head, “or what?”

With swiftness, Armando pulls a knife that looks awfully familar as he shoves it right underneath your chin, “Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

Flashing your pretty teeth at him with your arms still folded you respond, “I'm immortal, so…it's actually not possible. Is it genius?”

Armando blinks, “doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt?”

“…that’s the thing, you don’t want to hurt me. You want to hurt everybody else.” You reason, which proves to be right as Armando rolls his eyes before removing the blade from your cold skin.

Sighing Armando puts his back to you, “I really don’t have time for this.”

The sarcasm is heavy in your tone, “Sure but you have time to execute a murder in front of who knows how many people and children?”

“No need to worry,” Armando smirks, “I’m the better shooter anyway.”

Huffing you follow Armando as he starts making his way through the apartment, making sure he has everything before closing the door in your face. Of course you throw your hands up before walking right through the wall to follow the man down the hallway. If he was going to do this, then you were going to be right beside him trying to get him to change his mind before he actually got to the orchard.

It was funny really, Armando going to the one place you loved being. Something you could never explain, you always loved apples since you came into Armando’s life. Apple scented things, favorite fruit and snack were apples, loved baking anything that had to do with apples—not that you had that much time to do that either catching bodies and all but in your sprinkle of free time you did. This was only explained once you knew your background, that you weren’t from another place in South America but North. You had grandparents who owned a farm and were still looking for you after your parents passed.

Your parents were in debt to the wrong people.

The Aretas, so they took the one valuable thing and that happened to be you.

Now here you were not getting to enjoy the sights of the orchard because Armando was out for blood. In your honor. Past you who was just doing these things because you knew you could, would be proud but once you got away from the dark of this game, living the life you could have? Changed how you viewed the world. It drastically changed again once Armando Aretas showed up at your door.

“What are you looking to accomplish by doing this?”

Armando sighed as he opens the car door, “I went over this already.”

“Okay…so what are you going to tell Mike and Secada once they find out?” You inquire as you appear on the passenger side, “The first person they’re going to look for is you, you know that right?”

“I have an alibi.”

“Don’t say something lame like visiting my mausoleum all the way in Massachusetts…knowing you can’t leave the state alone.”

Armando goes quiet which lets you know that was exactly what he was planning on using. He hated having you be one step ahead of him and it showed. The blank expression he shot you, had you snorting into your hand and with a shake of your head you start to comment before Armando interupts.

“Save your breath.” Armando mutters

Moving the seatbelt with a sigh, so you can free your braids you say, “no, I don’t think I will. We went long enough not speaking after you disrespected me by playing the blame game.”

He briefly glances over at you, hand tightening on the wheel, he regretted saying that to you, “I didn’t mean any of it, amiga. I was in my head and when I’m in my head—

“You don’t listen,” you finish with a sharp nod, “which is why I’m telling you that this a bad idea.”

He blinks, “is that a immortal feeling or something?”

You laugh again, “I don’t…think that’s a thing? It’s just natural to not want you to end up, you know? Dead.”

“Appreciate that but the only way I get to move on, is if I do this.”

“Until something else feeds that desire to kill again.”

“We’re always going to be killers, though.” Armando replies, “whether you like it or not in death or life. That’s just what we were made to be.”

“And it’s sad that you can’t see that you can be much more than this.” You tell, “Maybe someday you’ll see that.”

Armando hums, “Are you supposed to be my guardian Angel?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that amigo.” You rest your head back against the headrest, “you did say we were killers and I don’t think murders get to hold angel status.”

“Icarus was a fallen Angel though.”

“Touché.”

A small silence falls over the car ride while being surrounded by the busy life style of Miami. To find quality farms required traveling a good distance so Armando appreciated the silence, to gather his thoughts together. He could have gotten there faster if he purchased another bike but he was very limited now being underneath everyone’s eyes.

With the way Armando drove, it felt like less than over an hour where the palm trees started to fade and the grass roads become more prominent. He’s getting off the exit and there’s a lot less traffic around this area, which worked in Armando’s favor since you knew he preferred to go for the silent kill but if it had to get rowdy he could handle that as well. If there were kids there, which you hoped there wouldn’t be many, you prayed that they would be leaving the site before Armando got into position.

“Would you look at that,” Armando pulls your attention away from the passenger window, “Lime green jeep gladiator, we’re just in time.”

You deeply inhale, sitting up in the passenger seat while Armando keeps his distance, “get the case ready.”

“No.”

The dark haired man with the thick facial hair cuts his eyes at you, “fine. Take the wheel, then.”

And his eyes told you not to argue with him, as he twists to the back of the vehicle to grab said item.

“There’s witnesses.” You state, letting go of the wheel as Armando plops the case right into your lap.

Armando nods, “I’ll aim for the tires, make it seem like they got a flat.”

“…do you know if their kid is with them?”

“I know how to aim,” he argues, moving one hand to the case in your lap to unlock for his gun of choice along with a silencer.

Which didn’t answer your question.

He’s getting ready to roll down his window, your eyes go into slits as a black Escalade cuts you two off. You hold onto the arm of the door as Armando tries to swerve to the right as the Escalade also break checks him.

“Arman,” you start, it’s a feeling that felt like the rolling of waves in the beginning of a storm but warm and you haven’t felt warmth in some time.

He’s slamming on breaks himself, that you feel your toes curl just waiting to slam into the gladiator. Yet the gladiator is off to the left in front of the Escalade that’s attempting to shield your view of the car.

“The hell?” Armando questions and you feel your breathing halt.

In front of you was a tree blocking the pathway to the orchard.

“T-This is it. This is what I tried to warn you of.” You say with shaky breath as you glance to meet Armando’s eyes.

There’s a furrow in Armando’s brows, trying to decipher what you were saying to him. He’s caught off guard by you as he’s yanked out of the driver’s side. You feel a pull to your right, which made you frown because why could you feel this touch when it didn’t belong to Armando?

You’re shoved to your knees beside Armando who’s trying to move the hands that hold him, away until a gun is placed to his temple. The doors to the gladiator are opened, revealing your killer and her wife, who quickly grabs hold of their five year old son.

“No. This isn’t right. I killed you.” She pointed at you, still keeping her distance behind what you and Armando believed to be her bodyguards.

Armando keeps his head still but his eyes move to peek at you.

“You can see me?” You whisper before looking around at your surroundings, “…we shouldn’t be here.”

Your killer laughs, “no, you shouldn’t.” She steps forward, eyes are harsh as she glared at you before shushing her partner while she moves in closer, “did you two come here to kill me and my family? Big mistake.”

Armando shakes his head while admitting, “not your family, just you.”

You wish you could have shushed him in this moment too.

There’s a film of gray that spills over the sky followed by the rustle of trees. You don’t feel safe and not just because everyone can suddenly see you now. Where you resided when you weren’t with Armando, allowed you to see many things you still couldn’t explain. Perhaps it took time to make sense and you didn’t have anyone that worked as a guide. In essence this was just like life.

No answers and just winging it.

However you’ve seen this scene plenty of times before. The getting stuck by a road blockage, always a large tree with vehicles trying to find a way around. It was a cycle before they arrived to the town.

“The town.” You inform causing all eyes to turn to you, “we need to leave, now.”

Your killer huffs, “you keep saying that. You want to leave so bad, here.”

And with that she snatched the gun from one of her bodyguards and aims right at you, firing the gun. At least for this death, you don’t even feel it but you can only imagine how traumatizing this must have been for Armando.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Waking with a deep gasp that feels as if it’s been punched into your chest, you jolt upwards.

“Whoa, you’re okay.” Armando’s voice is heard to the left of you, his hand rests on your thigh covered blanket.

Your eyes are wide while they connect with his dark ones.

A woman’s voice remarks next, “holy shit! You weren’t lying…and there’s no bullet wound, not even a scar.” Her thumb swipes over your forehead, which you slap away.

“Sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender, “I should introduce myself, I’m Kristi. Armando brought you here in hopes that you’d come back to life. He uh, proved me wrong about you being dead since apparently you were already dead?”

You flick your eyes back to Armando who takes hold of your hand and that’s when you notice they’re stained, “that’s right…”

A click of a gun is heard next, making all eyes turn to a dark skinned man in a blazer.

Not this again!

“Boyd! I don’t think that’s necessary.” Kristi tries to reason.

Boyd scoffs, “I think it is. Sure we get visitors but not ones like her. So you’re gonna tell me the truth and not what I want to fucking hear, are you one of those things because I’ve been waiting to trap one?”

Armando quickly moves to stand in front of the bed, blocking this Boyd guy’s view of you, “Even if she was whatever you’re accusing her to be, why would she tell the person that has a gun pointed at her?”

“That’s fair,” Boyd shrugs, “we just like to have some sort of answers in this fucked up town.”

“Join the club,” you laugh, “since I died, nothing has made much sense. And now I’m back alive or at least somewhat? In this place I’ve only had visions of?”

Boyd starts to lower his gun and shares a glance with the wavy haired woman, who introduced herself as: Kristi.

“…I think we have a lot to discuss before we let you two freely roam the town.”

Armando glances at you from over his shoulder as he speaks, “the town…is that the official name of this depressing looking place?”

“It’s easier to call it as such.” Kristi informs.

Armando realizes that you’re more connected than you let on.

“Sorry about this,” Boyd says as he cuffs Armando who’s confused, “we found some bodies that don’t belong here, along with a young boy who needs looking after, and it’s obvious you were all together and involved in some shit. So I’m going to have to separate you two while we get some more information.”

“Are you fucken serious?” Armando gruffs, “we’ll talk, we have nothing to hide but it seems like you dumbasses do.”

“Yeah alright, wise guy.” Boyd roughly turns Armando around, “I’ll be back before night falls to have a chat with you.” He explains as he shortly looks at you before turning to Kristi, “Make sure she doesn’t leave your sight.”

Armando snickers, “good luck with that, my amiga walks through walls for fun.”

Only that was something you understood, a small smile appearing on the corner of your lips as Boyd and Kristi share a frown, before Boyd leads Armando away from your sight.

“Don’t worry, Armando is in good hands with the sheriff.”

You snort, “that actually exists in this make believe place?”

Kristi pulls up a chair beside you, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck, “unfortunately this place isn’t just in your head.”

A growl rips through your stomach just as she’s scooting forward to listen to your heartbeat and breathing, “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Immortals don’t really get to eat. We just taste.” You answer.

Kristi nods and pushes back, disappearing behind a curtain for a moment before returning with a piece of a fruit, “Well try this for a change.”

You take the apple from her and wipe it against your sweater with slight laughter. Holding the red fruit towards the light, you bring it to your lips and take a bite. The crunch is almost as satisfying as its taste and your eyes close while you chew. “Honey crisp?”

“I…actually don’t know.” Kristi says, “Food has just gotten better around here…But something tells me I should trust your instincts.”

You smile and breathe in as Kristi places the tool against your chest before moving to your back.

“Tell me something…I have a feeling that your boyfriend—

“Save your breath if you’re trying to hint at shooting your shot at him.” You dismiss.

It’s Kristi’s turn to laugh, “oh no…um…just trying to make conversation. And my fiancée actually works here with me. She’s doing inventory but you’ll probably see her later since I’ll be hiking sometime tomorrow.”

You nod, “Hiking? Armando and I aren’t really hiking people. We grew up in Mexico City where rural wasn’t what we were really used to but he wanted to go to the apple orchard today.”

Kristi hums, “doing some good ol’ apple picking huh? Never would have guessed.” She finished with a laugh.

“Guess we can be full of surprises.”

Kristi sits back in the chair, “you can say that again…there’s no heartbeat when I listen to your chest but there’s a sound when I listen to your back.”

“A sound?” You press.

“Like…a whirling sound?”

You tilt your head to the side, which makes Kristi stand and hand you the end of the tool to place into your ears, raising one arm so the wire can travel underneath your arm, she stretches the stethoscope to place at your back.

“Breathe in for me.”

You do.

“Then out and listen,” Kristi continues to instruct.

Following through again, you exhale all the way out awaiting the sound. The whirling sound, that sounds like wind in a snowstorm. A force against the quiet that has no thudding like a normal heart would and it’s so eerie that you know Kristi can’t explain it either.

Taking another bite from the honeycrisp, you continue to listen while you breathe as you normally would and it’s still there every time you exhale. The season you left behind was autumn in a humid climate, you originally passed in late spring, and now as you got into the town and from what you can see from the window, winter was approaching.

Perhaps your heart was the timer for this town?

“Well…” you say around chewing, “either we’re going to be clueless for a while or I’m going to be answer to saving everybody’s lives. Let the party begin, chica!”

Kristi takes the medical device back and plops back down in the chair, offering a small smile. She didn’t know you yet or the guy you came here with but part of Kristi felt like maybe things will start to become a little bit clearer.

So she saved her breath and hoped.

How much more hope can someone have in a place like this?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

Back at the station, Boyd is pacing in front of the jail cell he’s holding Armando in.

Boyd summarized, “So you kill people for a living?”

“I did.” Armando’s monotone was off putting as he sat comfortably in the jail cell.

Boyd shakes his head and corrects, “you do. You stopped for a little bit because you had no other choice but then relapsed at the sake of your…your girlfriend? Wife? Fiancée?

“My family.” Armando rectifies while Boyd didn’t see the difference or really need the specifics.

“Are you some sort of serial killer?” Boyd quizzes, finding Armando demeanor to be too at ease.

“No. I’m many things but that.”

Boyd’s eyes are in slits as he spits out, “Are you unalive too because there’s no way you didn’t get injured while taking four people out?”

Armando raises his hand, “just more blood to scrub. The real person we should be worried about is her. I told you she was murdered in prison months ago and has been haunting me ever since. Now we get to some fucken fallen tree in the road and everybody but me can see her? That sound right to you, sheriff?”

Boyd laughs, “oh you’re gonna learn very quickly that nothing in this town is right.”

“She said she had visions of this place before in spurts.” Armando reveals with his elbows digging into his knees, “And how she never wanted to be here, how she feared that once I didn’t need to see her anymore this is exactly where she would end up. That some type of power was telling her this would be her eternity and I guess mine too if I didn’t get my shit together.”

“W-what does that mean? If you died? We’re not dead. She maybe but we’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s gotta be missing signs of us. People looking for us. We’ve all been gone too long for there not to be.” Boyd mumbled to himself but Armando feels as if he isn’t too sure.

If that is the case, then that means Mike is probably losing his shit right about now.

Armando inhales and sits back, “looks like we got a lot to learn about each then, right sheriff? And I think the first person you actually want to start with…is her.”

Boyd doesn’t doubt that since Armando didn’t hold anything back. He quickly learned that the man was in his late twenties, had heavy resentment for both of his parents, especially the one he just learned was actually his parent and was now stuck working with him to pay for his crimes, which he’s been trained to basically be a killer with the friend beside him, and had no issue turning back into that person but was it worth it?

“Why do I feel like you’re about to throw her under the bus? If she’s family then why stab her in the back?”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “It’s not stabbing when you do research and hold your cards close. I know what she is but I don’t know much about this place, only she does. Which is why I’m telling you, you need to let me out of this cage if you know what’s good for you.”

Boyd held Armando’s stare and it only took a few moments for him to believe a complete stranger, which is not something he usually did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

When they get back to the clinic, they’re greeted at the door by Kristi who waves them in with a finger to her lips. A frown appears on Boyd’s face as he stops by the door while Armando pushes his way by. He stops at the doorway where a blonde reaches for his shoulder to stop him.

From where they stand, he can see you sleeping on your side. Apple rind fallen from your fingertips, as a white as snow singular wing is arched up and out from your shoulder.

“That’s new and I don’t get out much.” The blonde whispers from Armando’s left.

He folds his arms and turns to meet Boyd and Kristi’s eyes with raised brows.

‘Told you so,’ is written all over his face as he moved to step into the room but the blonde, who touched him again tries to get him not to move any further.

He looks at her hand and then at her face.

She suggests, “I think we should give her some space. Until she’s alert and we see how she reacts, if it’s still out.”

“Marielle’s right, That’s not a bad idea.” Kristi observes.

Armando shrugs Marielle’s hand from him, “how long has she been like that? She normally doesn’t sleep…because she can’t.”

“Not long.” Kristi tells as she glanced at Boyd whose face held complete stress, “Maybe we should get Kenny down here or even Sara?”

Boyd immediately shakes his head, “No to Kenny. We don’t need to bother him right now, we can handle it.”

“You don’t know that, sheriff.” Armando disagrees with a humorless laugh.

“Well, thanks for your load of fucking confidence, Armando.”

“I’m just saying.” Armando leans against the doorway, eyeing you again while crossing one leg over the other, “we…mainly her might have just changed the entire game.”

Boyd clenched his fist and stalked out of the clinic to swing at the air and let out a string of curse words.

Armando rolls his head to look at the two women who peer at the direction where the sheriff walked off too. It was so quiet over here that everyone heard his frustrations.

“Is he always like that? And he’s a sheriff? You might need to check his blood pressure.” Armando mentions while Marielle shakes her head at him and Kristi rolls her eyes.

“You’re strangely calm about this, guy with the bloody hands. You should clean that up by the way.” Marielle says.

Armando unfolds his hands to look at the stains and moves into the main area in search of a sink. “Someone’s got to learn how to not lose their shit and I have a hunch that it’s not that many people around here.”

Kristi defends Boyd, “Okay Mr. Calm, we’ll see how long that lasts once you see what the night brings.”

Armando gives a wicked smile to the two women as he shakes out his damp hands, “I’ve seen plenty in my twenty-eight years and I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

And with that he moves, despite Marielle’s protest, to sit right beside you, almost keeping guard of you this time around.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[carnationcreation]

can you do 15 with reggie peters pls❤️

TITLE: 3 Simple Rules (Reggie Peters x reader) [MUSICAL THEATER AU]

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in! 

Request: can you do 15 with reggie peters pls❤️

Prompt/summary:  [Musical Theater AU] Reader has to explain the three simple rules of the theater to Reggie. (And also help him out of trouble)

Word Count: 1,411

Authors note: From my AU prompt list on Tumblr!

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

There were three rules that came with being in the theater department at Los Feliz High School.

Rule One: No talking in the wings.

From the moment I met my co-star Reggie Peters at auditions, I knew he was going to be a pain to work with.

For example, he did not prepare an audition song. Instead, he broke out a guitar and took a request from Mrs. Harrison and wowed with his impressive vocals instead. His lines were half memorized and his wardrobe was not fit for the dance portion of the audition.

For Christs sake we’re doing NEWSIES!

The rehearsal period was over a month long and every week about thirty students crammed into the auditorium to relentlessly rehearse and prepare for opening night. 

My character, Katherine, didn’t dance much other than in King of New York. The big tap dance number I had to master next week.

A lot of my time was spent waiting in the wings for my next cue. Unfortunately, so was Reggie’s. 

“Wait was that my cue?”

“SHHHHH!” I said, looking anxiously to see if the stage manager on the other side of the stage heard us.

“Oh come on,” he said, “they can’t hear me over the music.”

I rolled my eyes before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the hallway of dressing rooms right behind the stage. 

“Do you seriously not know anything?”

He looked at me confused.

“The rules of being in theater?” I said, when he shrugged I continued, “One, no talking in the wings. Two, no eating or smoking in costume. And three, always show up early or else you’re late.”

“I didn’t think this was that serious.”

I scoffed, “Why did you even sign up for this?”

He shrugged, “Mrs. Harrison cornered me in English and said she needed someone who could actually sing for Jack Kelly.”

I rolled my eyes, “You better keep your mouth clean. I don’t want to have to kiss someone who’s breath stinks every weekend.”

Suddenly, the door we just came out popped open.

“(Y/N)! It’s almost your cue! Reggie, what are you doing out here?” Julie whispered.

“Nothing. Let’s go Reginald.”

“It’s Reggie!”

Rule 2: No eating in costume

The snack table near the dressing room was kept stocked with lots of different things, and it was meant for those out of costume or stagehands since we didn’t get to eat dinner until afterwards on show nights. 

I’d never been a stickler about eating in costume considering I’ve done it myself numerous times. At least I was always careful about it though, putting on a jacket or blanket over me to keep stains from getting on the meticulous costumes our school would make.

“What are you doing?” 

I tried to keep my voice low, but the shock and panic that went through me when I saw orange smears on Reggie’s vest from the pack of Cheetos in his hand made it come out in a squeek.

He looked up at me frantically, “I forgot!”

I huffed in frustration before running into the womens dressing room to grab paper towels.

Reggie tried to take them from me when I came out but I slapped his hand away.

“You’ll try to rub it, you need to pat the stain out.”

The wet paper towel made the brown vest look darker, but at least I got the orange out.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the dressing room, “Stand there.”

He stood where I pointed right beside the electrical outlet and watched me silently as I plugged in the hair dryer and set it to the cool setting. I put it on it’s lowest setting so I could carefully listen so we wouldn’t be late for our cues. Luckily it was Pulitzer’s solo so we should have enough time.

I looked up and noticed his cheeks were red, “What? It isn’t too hot is it?”

“Uh- no I just- we’re in the dressing room alone-”

“And I’m getting the stain out of your shirt so Katie won’t go nuts when she sees your costume almost ruined. No one’s gonna say anything Reggie, especially not to me. This happens more than you think.”

He nodded and looked down at the vest. It was still slightly damp but not enough to be noticeable on stage.

“Thank you,” Reggie said as I pulled the door open.

“Next time put a jacket on before you eat. Three simple rules Peters. Remember them.”

Rule 3: Always show up early or you’re late

It was almost the end of our show run. The past few weeks had been amazing and it was saddening to think that tonight I would have to say goodbye to Katherine. 

As I sat in my dressing room I heard a knock at the door, Julie entered and stood behind me as I pinned my hair up for my wig.

“Have you seen Reggie? It’s almost 10 minutes till places.”

“No I haven’t, has he messaged Luke about being the understudy?”

She shook her head, “Katie said he hadn’t.”

I felt anxiety rise in my chest, hopefully we wouldn’t have to delay the show just to get someone in costume.

I peaked my head outside and just as I did Reggie Peters came sprinting down the hallway.

“Where have you been?”

“I got a flat on the way, how much time do I have?”

“10 minutes till places. If you hurry you might not be late.”

He nodded.

“Rule number 3 Peters!”

He shouted over his shoulder back at me, “I know!”

I rolled my eyes. Having pity for the boy, I decided to try and help.

I went and grabbed his mic from the stage manager and updated her on the situation. With it in hand I went back to his dressing room and knocked.

“Come in!”

Reggie stumbled around the room finding pieces of his costume to pull on. 

“Sit,” I said once he had the pants and shirt on.

I handed him the vest and tucked the mic pack into the back of his belt before letting him run the wire up through the shirt.

“Do your hair, I’ll get the makeup ready.”

He tousled his hair and I couldn’t help but stare. Him clearing his throat brought me back to reality and I began applying the foundation and powder to his face. The entire time I felt his eyes looking at me causing my face to become unexplainably hot.

Finally I pressed a cut up makeup sponge covered in black and gray eye shadow to give him the look of a dirty newsie. 

“All done,” I said. I tried to stand up quickly so I could go and get my face to not feel like it’s on fire.

He grabbed my wrist, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He sighed, “You’re always helping me with something.”

“Well,” I smiled, “Hopefully you’d do the same for me if the situation was reversed. Besides theater geeks look out for each other.”

“I’m not a geek!”

I laughed, “It’s almost time for places. Let’s go Peters.”

The final curtain call had most of the cast in tears. This was the night we’d have to put all the props away and say goodbye to Newsies.

I neatly put my costume away before turning off my dressing room light for one last time.

I’ll admit. Working with Reggie wasn’t all that bad. At least he was a good kisser and took a mint before the finale each night. 

I pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder and walked towards the entrance of the school.

“(Y/n)!”

I looked behind me to see Reggie jogging to catch up with me.

“The rest of the crew is going to iHop, are you coming?”

“I dont know,” I said, “I’m kinda tired.”

“Come on,” he groaned.

“No Reginald I’m tired and sad the show ended.”

He smirked, “And going with the rest of the cast will make the grief a little less.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Please?” 

I walked off leaving him to trail behind me.

“Please (Y/n)!”

“Why do you want me to go that bad Reginald?”

“It’s Reggie,” he said, I smirked, “And... I don’t know anyone else that well.”

 I stopped and turned to him, he looked slightly embarrassed. 

“Please? I don’t wanna go by myself.”

I sighed, “Fine. But you’re buying me a milkshake.”

He smiled widely and before I could react pressed a kiss to my cheek.

As he pulled back he realized what he had done causing us both to blush.

“Is that against the rules?”

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

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[glitterghost]

Okay friends, here we go. I recently stumbled upon author Claire Cray. Their slogan according to the official website is "Gay Romance On The Weird Side". And let me tell you, it's pretty fitting for their content.

I came across their most recent release, In Strange Woods (published August 28, 2020) on Kindle unlimited & decided to give it read. It's an m/m mystery/thriller and I found myself throughly enjoying the story and the characters. It's not really lengthy & it kept me engaged the entire time! Honesty, I fell in love with the two male leads. Both their personalities and their dynamic together. The romance spans only over a week or so, but the tenderness and organic growth between them is something I was & still am weak for.

(Ps. I absolutely adore one soft, flannel wearing, Nirvana listening, heart of gold boy, named Hunter!)

Another thing I loved about this book is that the romance didn't overshadow the plot, but accented it. It gets woven into the already ongoing story and I truly appreciated that. I don't want to say too much about the plot itself but I will pull the description and add it below!

In the stormy coastal woods of the Pacific Northwest, roots run deep and passions run wild.

Reeling with grief and hounded by the press after the mysterious massacre of his wealthy family, moody New York photographer James Worthington Crane decides to take his downward spiral somewhere far away: to the rural Oregon Coast, where he’s just inherited a random piece of property hidden somewhere in the woods upriver.

But when James pulls into the decaying seaside town of Brooks, everyone thinks he’s someone else—an elusive local rebel named Beau. Now James must fight through his own grief to unravel a tangled web of family secrets, mysterious doppelgängers, and forgotten history...with help from a soft-spoken local hunk named Hunter Quaid.

Hunter’s been on his own since he left his fundamentalist family at the age of fifteen. It’s taken years of hard work and healing to build the steady, stable life he has now, fixing up seaside houses while living alone in a trailer by the river. Then James blows in like a winter storm, disturbing the peace and stirring up a hunger like nothing he's ever felt.

As Hunter helps James search for the truth, their lives intertwine in unexpected ways—and they begin to discover what it means to find out where you really belong.

From the author of Merrick and Hidden Talents comes a sensual and emotional story inspired by the rugged beauty and offbeat history of Pacific Northwest timber country. In Strange Woods moves through ancient old-growth forests, abandoned logging roads, ramshackle seaside towns, decaying homesteads, coastal highways, and the stories hidden in the trees.

For me, this book hit a lot of things that I love seeing in stories and especially in m/m. Claire's pacing and writing style, for me, was pretty solid. So much so, that I delved into looking more into other works she's published previously, just to continue enjoying the writing. Though I still consider In Strange Woods my favorite of all I've read so far. I feel you can see the writing evolve more strongly than in some of their past titles. That and I just really am in love with James x Hunter! ♡

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Freebies

Many titles such as Thirsting For More & Backwoods Beast are free on Amazon. Both are paranormal shorts. Both published in 2012. The writing isn't as strong to me in these as it was in In Strange Woods but that's also an 8 year gap in writing. However, I like Claire's story ideas and to me it was still worth checking out!

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Classic Tales Gone Gay

I also just finished Spooky Smutty Stories, (also available on Kindle Unlimited) which highlights a handful of classic tells, well, gone gay, just as it says! This collection also features Backwoods Beast as the first entry but there is also a sequel of sorts in it, with the last story being Backwoods Boomerang.

Each story (seven in total), are uniquely written but also familiar to most of us. They hold just enough eerie, spooky and sometimes frightful content to maybe give you a goosebumps or two. Definitely a delightful read just in time for spooky season right around the corner!

Ever wished your favorite scary stories had more steamy gay scenes? Now they do. This collection of seven creepy, delicious m/m stories is filled with ghostly hitchhikers, haunted ships, seductive witches and more classic tropes from urban legends and oral traditions around the world. There's a tale here for everyone who likes it weird, so dive in and treat yourself to a good shiver.

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Historical

Oh, did I mention Claire's also done historical as well? I've yet to read Merrick & William but will definitely be making my way to them in the future.

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Spooky Season Newsletter Event 💀

I'll leave you all with one last bit of information. Since spooky season IS right around the corner, Claire is holding an event for newsletter subscribers and y'all should sign up for all the free spooky content to come! (I swear no puns but, well, yeah 🙃)

"Stories will be written in real time as Spooky Season goes on, and I’ll consider any prompts and ideas that come my way on Twitter!"

So be sure to sign up for the newsletter, as not to miss out on this event. You can do so by going here

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Links

For more information on Claire & Claire's books, as I'm sure I could go on but this is already a long post. You can find Claire at/on:

Claire's offical website

Twitter: @claire_cray (give a follow!)

Goodreads

Amazon

Tumblr- @clairecray-blog (but not sure if active)

[justlookfrightened]

The Mayor of Halloween Town

This is filling an anonymous prompt for Bitty dressing up as Jack Skellington, and Jack’s reaction.

Bitty pulled the garment bag out of his closet and considered.

He’d brought this with him specifically for Halloween. He’d done the puck bunny thing last year – speaking of terrible life choices. He wasn’t sure who took the pictures that ended up on the Swallow’s website, but he’d had people making rabbit ears at him for weeks.

The year before that he’d been Mrs. Lovett because pies, but this year, he wanted something not so … feminine, maybe, not that anyone would consider Mrs. Lovett a sex symbol or anything.

But this year, he was the captain of this team, and the Halloween kegster came just after the season started, and he needed something that would demonstrate that he was in charge. Or at least not make him seem cute.

On a visit home before returning for the school year (and wasn’t that a change: his parents’ home was now a place he visited), he’d spent an afternoon helping Mama organize the attic, moving some of his old things out of his parents’ way and making room for Mama’s new sewing machine in the guest room.

That was what gave him the idea, really. The old things in the attic, both the collection of Halloween Town figurines and the rack with his old figure skating costumes.

There was the tiny statue of Jack Skellington, the leader of Halloween Town. And there was the black coat he’d bought for his last costume – he’d planned to skate to Phantom – but, well, that skate never happened.

The coat had been a bit big then, and it was more than a bit snug now, but that would work for what he wanted. He still had black tights that fit, and a dance belt. He could do this: Not a burly monster or a bedraggled zombie, but the spritely skeleton who was clearly in charge of the holiday.

With the bag stashed in the closet, Bitty had gone along with it when the frogs started talking about a Halloween kegster. The new baby tadpoles (what do you call a frog before it’s a tadpole?) had been around for two months, and they were ready to be exposed to the drunken debauchery of a real Haus party. As long as Bitty could make sure they ate enough and drank enough water.

Ollie and Wicks were eager to prove their version of tub juice was just as revoltingly strong as Ransom and Holster’s, and the rest of the boys were itching for some fun.

But when Dex and Nursey came up with the idea of a Haunted Haus kegster, Bitty had wanted to talk them out of it. First, because he wasn’t sure tub juice and jump scares were entirely compatible; second, because he didn’t want people losing it in his kitchen, and there was no way on God’s green earth that any of the boys would allow guests upstairs during a kegster, and a haunted Haus meant people would have to go somewhere; and third, because he wanted to be Jack Skellington, and that just wasn’t scary enough for a haunted house. Or maybe that was first.

But that was a selfish reason, so he agreed to the Haunted Haus party. All the haunting would be on the ground floor of the Haus, and guests would be escorted from the end of the spooky pathway through the kitchen and out to the back porch, where they could get more drinks (“Dude, everyone has to drink before they go in,” Wicks had insisted. “That’s not safe,” Bitty countered. “Not everyone can have alcohol, or wants to.” “They can drink water for all I care,” Ollie declared. “They just have to drink.”)

With Bitty on board, the new Haus mates started planning in earnest. Nursey called on his theater friends to offer props, Dex planned for creepy creaking doors and caskets, ghosts and spiders dropping suddenly from the ceiling, and bursts of mist and cool air. Nursey was creating and a soundtrack of screams and moans (“Sweet!” Wicks said. “That’ll reduce some inhibitions.”)

Even Chowder got into it, talking about the vintage goalie mask he could wear to portray a terrifying serial killer.

“He’ll have to wear it to scare anyone,” Bitty told Jack over Skype that night. “Chowder can’t be frightening unless he has a goalie mask on. Kind of eerie how that happens.”

“So what are you going to be?” Jack said. “How will I recognize you when I come up?”

“You’re not seriously going to come, are you?” Bitty said. “I mean, I know we talked about spending Halloween together since you don’t have a game, but it’s going to be a fright show up here. Literally.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack said. “I’ll wear a costume. You won’t have to stay all night, right?”

“No, and we don’t practice until the next afternoon,” Bitty said. “I’m thinking of making my escape to Providence and let the boys handle the cleanup. I’m not sure I really want to do a haunted Haus anyway.”

“Not a fan, eh?” Jack said. “You don’t like being scared like that? We can go through together if you want.”

“You think I’m gonna want to cling my big strong boyfriend?” Bitty said, managing to hold it a moment before snorting. “Jack, honey, I’m always happy to get close to you, but I don’t think anything these guys come up with will scare me. Especially since we all are gonna have to help set it up.”

“Guess I’ll see you there then, bud,” Jack said. “Maybe I can cling to you.”

When the call ended, Bitty breathed a sigh of relief. He’d managed to distract Jack from pursuing his question about Bitty’s costume, and Bitty wanted it to be a surprise. He’d promised Jack he wouldn’t show as much skin as he had last year (“If you’re dressed like that, lapinou, I won’t be able to leave your room without everyone at the party knowing how I feel about you”), but he wanted the costume to be a surprise.

******************************

Jack waited until 9:30 to leave for the Haus. He’d promised himself he’d wait until 10, knowing kegsters didn’t really get going much before then and his arrival would be less likely to cause a stir if everyone was past their first cup of tub juice, but Bitty was there, so that was where he wanted to be.

He checked himself out in the mirror: plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, cowboy hat, bandanna that he could pull over his face if he needed to. He couldn’t do much about the jeans – they were one of his two regular pairs, since he had to have them specially tailored. Even if they didn’t look like he’d been riding the range, Bitty assured him they showed off his, uh, assets, to their best advantage. A costume store gun belt with plastic six-shooters completed the look.

It was Halloween, but it was also a Monday night, so traffic from Providence to Samwell was light and Jack had parked his car down the block and was making his way to the Haus by 10:15.

It seemed like most of Samwell’s student body was headed toward the Haus, with costumes ranging from zombies and witches to firefighters and cheerleaders.

He was just heading toward the front porch when he heard someone say, “Well, get an eyeful of you, Jack. I gotta say, that’s a good look for you. Helps make Halloween the wonderful holiday it is.”

Jack looked around to see who was talking to him. He thought he looked pretty good – better than with the lame cat ears from last year – but that was a little over the top. But no one seemed to have even noticed he was there. The guy talking was on the porch steps, addressing someone in the shadows of the hanging spiderweb.

Must be another Jack, then.

Then Jack heard Bitty’s warm laugh.

“So that means I’d best be happy with Halloween and not take over Christmas, too?” he said. “You’re too kind. I see you have your drink; step right in and see the frights! Don’t worry, there’s plenty of cookies and snacks to revive you at the end.”

Bitty had stepped into the light and was holding the door open for the guy, who was in a traditional Dracula outfit.

“How about a bite out of your neck?” Dracula said. “I vant to suck your –”

“Oh, there’ll be plenty of people back there to try that line on,” Bitty said. “But the only way to get to the party is through the Haus. Good luck! Try not to scream!”

And with Bitty’s hand firmly at his back, the guy was through the door and Jack could take a long look at his boyfriend, whose body somehow looked longer and leaner that usual. He was wearing a black suit – sort of. The jacket was nearly form-fitting, with tails in the back and a tie that looked like a bat. If the jacket was nearly form-fitting, the pants were – well, Jack couldn’t see any underwear lines under the glare of the porch lights, but the bulge at his groin was clearly apparent.

Jack forced his eyes back up. Bitty’s hair was slicked back and his face was white, with his features made up to look like black sutures. And the guy had called him Jack. Must be some character – not Jack Sparrow, although that look would be good on Bitty too, he thought.

“Howdy, partner,” Jack said, stepping into the light.

Bitty turned and caught sight of him.

“Jack! You make a great cowboy! Haus rules are that you have to have a drink to go in, but it doesn’t have to be whatever excuse for tub juice these boys have put together. There’s beer, or water.”

“Mmm, much like the vampire, I’d rather have you.”

Bitty made a face that made the drawn-in mouth twist. “Heard that, did you?”

“You did an admirable job of sending him to the demons,” Jack said. “You are something in that. Do you have to stay here?”

“Not really,” Bitty said, slipping his phone from a pocket Jack hadn’t noticed. “I’m the captain, remember? Let me get one of the tadpoles to take over the door. Then I will escort you through the haunted Haus with no interruptions.”

“You’re sure about that?” Jack asked skeptically.

“You forget, I am the mayor of Halloween Town,” Bitty pronounced.

“Really?” Jack asked.

“Jack, you don’t know who I am?”

“You’re the mayor of Halloween Town.”

“Jack! I’m Jack Skellington! From Nightmare Before Christmas? You must have seen it.”

“Skellington? Like a skeleton? That’s why you look so thin?”

“And move so gracefully,” Bitty said, pirouetting on the threshold as Tango arrived.

“The door is yours, my good man.”

Jack crowded up behind Eric as they entered the darkened living room.

“I don’t doubt the moves,” he said. “But I know there’s more than skin and bones under that suit. Let’s get through this as fast as we can and hit the trail, eh?”

“Sure thing, partner,” Bitty said. “Let’s see if those guns of yours fire anything but blanks.”

Then he giggled, and Jack laughed, and he was having the best Halloween of his life.

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 6. Joe

A/N: because the love I have for Raymond is consistently growing and it’s Scorpio szn (his szn) so why not? Although I’m not sure if Joe fits into the Scorpio vibe…those that care what do you think? Anyways he’s on the list so here’s this *GASPS* short thing and I can’t wait to see him (mainly) next season!

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: A notices B’s porch light off, so A knocks on the door anyway to pull them out of their boredom to persuade B to come join the fun.

Side note: slight crossover between two other shows: “The Bold Type,” + “Fire Country,” but not overly the focus in this piece. So don’t come at me if you’re questioning why they’re tagged :)

*GIF BELONGS TO: @kamala-khan + PHOTO DOES NOT BELONG TO ME!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Ever since Briar moved out to the New England area it’s been difficult to get her besties to visit with them still living in New York City. Working for Scarlet magazine was a big part of not only Briar’s childhood dream but career journey that brought Briar to this big change in her life.

Perhaps Briar was still getting adjusted as life carried on but in different places now. Originally the girls planned to come up this weekend to have a spooky bake session + movie marathon and would head back that next afternoon.

However things didn’t go as planned with: Jane’s old Danish fling decided to surprise her back in the states after she took her lengthy trip of seeing the world. Briar wasn’t sure if a serious relationship is what Jane needed right now but Jane claims it was only her having fun…leaving Briar to take that with a grain of salt. Then Kat decided to last minute turn down the trip to dive even deeper into her own magazine, “Don’t Turn Away,” which was of course exciting to see and Briar was no doubt proud of her friend but Briar couldn’t believe that Kat was officially the workaholic out of the four friends. It was even sweet for Adena, Kat’s girlfriend, to consider traveling to spend the day with Briar but she encouraged Adena to watch over Kat and push her to take breaks every now and then so she wouldn’t get burnt out. Lastly there was Sutton who switched up to head down to upstate New York to the new cabin her and Richard purchased…which concluded with Briar placing them all on block for the next twenty-four hours.

Sure it was petty but it’s not like the group didn’t plan this two weeks ago and yes things come up…yet it sucked being kicked to the curb like this. Gas prices were also out of control but none of them bothered to use that excuse and well at least they were honest with pushing Briar to the side! Briar didn’t have to sulk at her new Cape home and could get herself up and out into the city of Wellsbury if she really wanted to. The thing is she just wanted to have a night in with her girls, especially when Briar’s been looking forward to seeing them all after she switched career paths.

So…there she is in the solitude of her home lounging on a couch “watching” some crappy horror film, scowling at that one character who plummets to the ground after being chased by a serial killer.

There’s a knock at the door and Briar has to drag her eyes away from her phone to glance towards the windows that she shielded hours ago. Sighing she guesses it must be some more teenagers doing another round of ding dong ditch, since she was the new person in town and it was fun to pick on the new resident here apparently. Padding through the rest of the scattered “oddly,” placed furniture in the living room—Briar’s uppity mother’s words FYI, she finds her way to the front door. Standing a little on her fuzzy sock covered toes, she peeks through the peep hole after flicking her porch lights back on, to see no other than Joe Mohan waiting on her front porch.

Briar doesn’t wipe the nonchalant expression on her face as she pulls the door open, “Joseph, hello.”

Joe’s lips twitch at the formality Briar kept up with when greeting him, “I thought we classified each other as friends not acquaintances. What’s with the ‘Joseph,’ Ms. Briar?”

Briar sighs as she leans against the doorway of her home.

“That bad of a night huh?”

“Oh you have no idea.”

“Well your lack of lights told me to come over and check so I’m here,” Joe holds his arms out with a smile, “And you look like you can use a pick me up…so you should hang out with me.”

Briar and joe lived across the street from each other, while Joe had a ranch that was pushed back from the road, Briar also had her esquestrian property with cape architecture that was actually closer to the road and a roomy pumpkin filled front porch. They were friendly with Briar heading into the blue farm every Wednesday and Friday due to it being her longer days at work, from there they sparked up light hearted but teasing conversations.

She became the newest talk of the town, unwarranted and she liked to keep to herself just a bit to get adjusted better. Did that mean some labeled her as standoffish? So be it. It was something her mother often criticized her for when change came Briar’s way, that she didn’t have to retreat into her shell and that she needed to take things by it’s horns. Maybe subconsciously that’s why she was attempting to raise some goats? It’s a shame that the way your relationship is built from your parent(s) can still haunt you into your adulthood.

“hang with you and the horses you mean?”

Joe notices the shudder radiating off Briar’s frame and shakes his head. He knows the whole story about her at thirteen and on a horse back in the summer at Martha’s Vineyard. That resulted in eight stitches and a dark scar from her chin bone down to where the underside of her tongue rests. It wasn’t as noticeable despite the horrible laser treatments she endured as a kid; unless you were really trying to pick apart her story and if Briar didn’t have make-up covering the scar.

“Nah, what kinda guy do you think I am?”

“The kind that tried to get me on one at that fair last weekend? when you know that was solely for the children.”

Joe was only joking, he wouldn’t push past Briar’s boundaries.

“Oh my mistake, I thought you started middle school already.”

“Ha-ha,” briar playfully rolls her eyes.

Joe lightly taps Briar’s forearm, “c’mon, what else better do you have to do? Halloween is right around the corner, come out and celebrate.”

“I never took you for one to enjoy spooky season.” Briar tilts her head to the side then turns her hooded eyes into slits, “I feel like you’re more of a New Year’s Eve kinda guy.”

“Really? I don’t give fall guy season?”

“Joseph!” Briar almost crinkles her nose as if she’s appalled, “Don’t tell me you like pumpkin and chai lattes?”

“I’m actually more of a hazelnut, chestnut, or go for a praline vibe.” Joe shrugs his shoulders.

“Ah so a winter girl.” Briar lifts her chin almost in approval, “I can now smell the wreath’s from your pores and see the uggs on your feet.”

Joe scoffs and holds his hand out awaiting Briar’s grasp, “so what do you say?”

“I’d say…as long as there’s no horses and you give me a glimpse of the itinerary for the night, I just might.” She keeps her arms folded.

Joe hums, “don’t have time for all the deets but I can guarantee you’ll have some fun.”

“Fun as that mark on your eye?”

“What do you mean? That’s part of my costume.”

“You’re not wearing a costume, Joseph.” Briar scans the bearded man, wondering just how he injured himself this time.

“I…could be.” Joe challenges the woman with the Pearl clips in her hair.

“Well am I dressed appropriately for this undercover mission of fun?” Briar slaps her hands down by her thighs, “Otherwise I’d have to change and take a shot of liquid courage to get through the night.”

Joe says, “you always look great…and I don’t want to wait another hour for you to be ready. The event has already started by the way. So come on, get your keys and ID just in case they decide to make sure you’re not part of gen-z.”

“Whatever you say, baby boomer.” She winks at Joe before disappearing back inside while the man just sent a mocking smile at her back.

They arrive at what appears to be this abandoned brick building with Joe and a few of his friends that Briar’s meeting for the first time. They’re a friendly group that Briar’s heard a little about but it’s good to put the names to the faces and that they welcomed her with pretty much open arms. It was a contrast to the others in town that were more nosy than getting to actually know Briar. However she’s handled worse attitudes in Brooklyn and Manhattan.

“Don’t tell me we’re going haunted exploring,” Briar says to Joe as they walk side by side through the scarce parking lot.

He laughs, “hell no, that’s more Jake’s lane and none of us would actually be here if that was the destination tonight, believe me. You’re in good hands.” He causally tosses an arm across Briar’s shoulders.

Which she glances at but makes no move to pluck his hand off. It actually felt comforting as they made their way through the breezy night together. As the group stand at the large door, they wait for a section of it to slide sideways revealing a beaming red light that shines over their bodies.

Briar still wasn’t sure if she liked this but Joe’s friends seem to get more excited after?

Soon they’re welcomed into the building which smells like cold air and moss, followed by two figures dressed in all black.

“What in the American horror story?” Briar mutters, which is not unheard by the group who let out snickers.

The voice that echoes off the eerily silent hallway, comes from the figure on the left who’s wearing a plague mask, “ladies and gentlemen, those of you who are ready to put those bones to work, I suggest you say your goodbyes now.”

Suddenly alarms go off with the blaring of red lights illuminating their frames. Briar won’t lie and say that she didn’t clasp both hands across Joe’s waist at that, brown eyes peering around this narrow entryway. She also picked up on the sound of the main door locking behind them.

“Come along,” the feminine voice in the black Victorian poof dress speaks, “we shall see how far those shells above thee bones can take it.”

“Take what,” one of Joe’s other friends, Bode is clearly finding enjoyment in this as he bites back a laugh while his girlfriend, Gabriela slaps his arm.

“The shed,” both speakers say at the same time as the floor beneath them all begins to glide them backwards and their group forward.

“Whoa!” Joe wobbles and steadies himself, “they’re really in tune with their roles.”

Abruptly the track stops at a set of stairs that lead downwards into the abyss.

“Welcome to the resurrection,” the feminine doll face raises her lace gloved hands while the plague man stomps his cane into the floor.

Just as they say this, unexpectedly chains slink down from above their heads while a gush of air almost knocks the group back but some unseen force keeps them upright. Devices are clamped down over their heads, making them immediately grip onto it in bewilderment.

“Please select a Halloween genre.” A menacing voice states, making Briar realize that she along with the rest had headphones on now.

“How do we uh…pick?” Jake asks but the hosts no longer say a word.

Briar presses on the top of the headphones, which light up orange while going over specific sections. A pop tune with a haunting theme fills her ears, making Briar’s wide eyes turn to see the rest of the groups slowly turning from a red hue to orange. With that the entryway to the stairs steam with blue smoke, signaling their cue to enter as the plague man and the doll faced woman side step to let the group through.

“This is pretty cool! I’ll admit. Creepy as hell but cool,” Briar can almost hear Joe saying as if he was speaking to her directly through the headphones and over her briefly lowered music.

Briar nods, guard still up as they all creep their way down the stairs and into what looks like a huge club scene with some attendees dancing in costumes and others in simple night out attire.

“I’m getting drunk! Bye!” Gabriela shouts into their ears, dancing through the crowd while pulling Bode along and right to the bar.

Briar and Joe both share a smile as they turn to each other. She wastes no time twirling around him then and begins to dance to her own tune in her ears. Joe keeps his hands together as he watches Briar let free, throughly enjoying seeing a grin on her face.

When she stops in front of Joe, she poses and waves her fingers encouraging Joe to show her what he’s got. She’s seen joe break out into some moves before when he thought nobody was watching and it was the funniest thing how he got embarrassed about it.

The man can move to a beat okay and if a dance battle was what he was asking for tonight, then who was Briar to stop that from happening?

After all it was all in good fun and what was the harm in that?

Joe tried to play it off like he was too cool for school but briar noticed his headphones flicking dim and back to Orange, almost as if the song changed and Briar didn’t miss the way Joe clenched his eyes closed.

Which made Briar smirk.

His song had to be playing and when he busted out doing his own version of the Wednesday Addams dance, which definitely caught Briar off guard! She couldn’t help but to jump in alongside of Joe but she managed to keep a blank expression on her face much better than Joe did.

They were more in sync than they realized once they whipped back to be face to face, Briar raised their hands up into the air together before a smile broke onto Joe’s face which the woman couldn’t help to match as their hands lowered. Briar lets out a laugh, resting her head against Joe’s chest and he wraps his arms back around her, hugging her close as they found joy in the night.

He figures Briar could at least consider him a friend now, bearing in mind that they just went into a whole dance routine in public together. Not to mention she felt just right in his arms and the moment was cheered on, they noticed as the crowd around them watched leaving Joe and Briar to bow at their unknown audience.

Turning to Joe’s friends, they appear with spooky cocktails with Eve handing off one of each to the pair, which they all cheers to with more laughter.

“Who knew all it took was to bring Briar out on the town with us to get Joe on the dance floor?” Gabriela tells.

Briar peeks up at Joe who sends her a wink with his lips at the rim of the glass.

Briar nudges his shoulder, “Ah, what are friends for?”

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Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.