f1nalboys

[f1nalboys]

Hey... Ya know what would be cool or whatever?

*Gently kicks rock with my hands in my pockets trying not to show how much I crave this*

If you'd make The Creature!Randy as a short story au yearning for Reader/Lisa... I don't know I think it be neat...Just saying.

spooky ur a GENIUS!!!!! have not stopped thinking abt this since i watched the movie and <3333333 randy is the perfect undead husband i fear to say!!! this is a little short and really just focuses on the beginning of everything, but i hope its enjoyable nonetheless!!!!

From The Grave - Randy Meeks

The Creature!Randy Meeks x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1025

WARNINGS: post death randy, the briefest description of corpse randy, mention of roadkill, nothing too graphic tho <3, reader is around randys age when he died but no specifc age is said, inspired by lisa frankenstein <3

His grave was tucked underneath a large willow tree, the branches hanging low and wide, hiding his lone headstone. You discovered it a few months ago on a warm spring afternoon as you carefully made your way through the abandoned graveyard in Woodsboro, stepping over gnarled roots and vines. The headstone was cracked, covered in moss and dirt, but you could just barely make out some of the writing on it as you got closer, your hand swinging by your side as the leaves of the tree shaded you from the sun.

“Randy Meeks. 1978-1997.” 

He was young, like you. Alone, too, if the state of his grave was any indication. Despite passing the other graves, all in similar states of disrepair, something about this one stood out to you. Maybe it was the fact you knew nothing of him; other headstones told you that buried deep in the ground was a husband, a wife, a child, but here there was nothing. Or, maybe, it was the fact that he was of similar age to you and was hidden away like you so often felt. 

Regardless, you spent the next hour carefully scraping the moss off of the stone with your finger and, when the grime became too hard to simply push off, with your pen. You didn’t have any water or soap and as you stand, wiping your hands off onto your jeans with a pleased smile at the progress, you resolve to come back tomorrow and finish cleaning it up. Sure, no one ever came through here, and the grass was as high as your knees in some parts of the cemetery, and you swore when you turned your back to his grave you could feel someone staring at you, but you were going to finish your job here. 

And so you did. The next day, bright and early, you clean up Randy Meeks’s headstone until it sparkles in the sunlight that broke through the gaps of the leaves. But then you come back the next day, and the next, and the next. For weeks, whenever you have the chance to, you make your way through the rusted iron fence and through the thick grass to him. 

Always to him.

You eventually wear down a path to his grave, the grass around the headstone itself squashed down from your constant pacing as you talk out loud. Talking helped clear your mind, and despite no response, you felt more seen and understood by him than you ever had before. You sometimes caught yourself pausing after a sentence as if waiting for a response and everytime you swore the wind would pick up and the leaves above you would rustle his answer.

Each time you left the cemetery, you’d write off whatever you felt in the moment and resign yourself back to your lonely existence. 

And then the strange storm happened. Dark, green, swirling clouds loomed in the sky above you, but they couldn't deter you. You made your way to the cemetery, rested your head on his gravestone, fingers tracing the etching of his name, and cried. Your whispers came out quick and harsh, cut off with random gulps of air, as you told him how you just wished you and he could be together. How your life was awful, how all you wanted was to be seen and loved and be treated how you knew he would treat you. 

You wanted to join him in death since he couldn't join you in life.

There was a crack of thunder, a flash of light, and when your eyes opened you were back home. You shake it off, sure you made your way home on auto-pilot. As you stumble through your routine to get ready for bed, you pause at the sound of a groan outside. Just as you turn your head to investigate, your front window shatters and a foul smell reminiscent of the decomposing fox on the side of the road you pass by everyday wafts in. Your hand covers your mouth and nose to stop from hurling just as he crawls through your window. 

After a few laps around your house, you sit across from him in your bedroom, staring at him wearily. “Who are you?” Is the only thing you can think to ask, though it doesn’t result in much. The man keeps grunting, getting increasingly more frustrated at your lack of understanding. He’s caked in mud and god knows what else, his eyes a bright blue. He can’t talk and you can’t understand him, but you swear you know him from somewhere. You run through the list of men you know, name after name, but he shakes his head after each one, his fingers drumming on his bent knee.

Eventually you stand and give him a notebook and a pen, hoping he can write. You watch as he takes it, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, his tongue poking out from his lips as he concentrates. Finally, he looks up and meets your eye, an intensity in them you hadn't seen before. You take the notebook and look down, gasping quietly as you read the name.

“Randy?” You ask, eyes widening slightly as you look back towards him. He nods. “My Randy? From the graveyard?” Another nod and the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen him make yet. None of it makes sense. You knew that the real Randy Meeks had been dead for years but here he was in front of you. “Could you hear me? When I spoke to you?”

He nods his head once again, reaching his large hand out for yours. You grimace slightly at the feeling of the mud and viscera on his skin but you don't pull away. Instead, you watch with a morbid curiosity as he brings your hand to his undead lips, pressing them against your hand. Your hand tingles, a lightning bolt crawling up your arm. 

It was him. He was here for you. Somehow, someway, he clawed his way out of death to find you. 

It was the most romantic thing you could think of.

#self reblog #hey. #:D

[f1nalboys]

me when people are reblogging my last reblog saying they want to watch southbound 😏😏😏 my ass lovessss looping and interconnected stories so!!!!! i hope yall like it and if u guys watch it pls tell me what u think :D

[f1nalboys]

Southbound (2015) “The Way Out” Directed by Radio Silence

#loved this movie sm #need to rewatch

[f1nalboys]

the ideas in cooking up for a series of one shot fics for vampire sinclair brothers…… yeah….. u guys need to prepare urself

#figuring out logistics of them being turned and stuff and having a ball #imagine if i put this much effort into my actual original vampire story

[f1nalboys]

YESSSSSSSSS severen i need him so bad 😭😭 i need to rewatch near dark so so so bad, i love gross sleazy vampires so much!!!!

and literally lisa and the creature invented true love it’s so <333

what’s the most recent movie u watched that changed ur life like i watched lisa frankenstein the other week and cant stop thinking abt it 😭😭

Broooo Lisa Frankenstein is so fuckin GOOD I need to get it on DVD and watch it again. Lisa and the Creature are everything to me 😩💞

But for a more recent choice, I watched Near Dark at the beginning of the month and holy shit it completely rearranged how I’ve been looking at vampires. Like, the recontextualization of the traditional “aristocratic European vampire who lives a wealthy regal life and uses that regality to woo victims” to “Southern vampires who live in a camper van and scour sleazy bars and utilize that good ole Southern charm to woo victims” is just. AUGHHH. It’s SO good I need MORE Southern vampire stories there’s so much rich unexplored territory here. Also Severen was hot DSGHDFSD I’m not immune to a weird little guy in leather and covered in blood.

#also!!!! HEHEHE THANKNYOU :D #i love my boys fr

[f1nalboys]

guys….. vampire sinclair brothers who drain their victims and then encase them in wax for the town………walk w me here

#no one take this idea i have to write it #just kidding h guys can write it

[f1nalboys]

haiii! would you ever consider writing for patrick bateman from american psycho? i love your writing <33

hi!!! thank you hehehe :3 and u know i haven’t watched american psycho in a long time but 👀👀 if people would be interested, im totally up for writing for patrick!!!!! ill just have to rewatch and everything!!!

[f1nalboys]

hi! new follower here & i have to say, you seem cool as hell. you like some of my FAVE films. (the lost boys, final destination {3rd one is my fave}, scream and house of wax).

i would love to chat abt these movies with u if u wanted to <33

stay groovy ✌️

HIIII UR SO SWEET THANK YOU!!!! and for sure we can chat!!!!

#i do have a hard time dming sometimes but i swear i try my best 😭😭

[f1nalboys]

omg normal people dni actual PERVERTS and DEPRAVED WEIRDOS with GROSS ABNORMAL EROTIC FIXATIONS only

#me core #it’s required to follow me

[f1nalboys]

me when i really really really love a character: what if they were a vampire

#it’s the highest honor i can bestow on someone ngl #my most recent was the shelby family from peaky blinders i have a whole thing written up abt it

[f1nalboys]

everyone should drink a glass of chocolate milk after sex

#WAHHHH #lisa frankenstein #art #not my art #this is so good

[f1nalboys]

Progress Report - 4/29/24

hello and happy birthday!

...is how this was going to start when I intended to post it this past Friday. But I spent my birthday as a side character in the hit 1996 movie Twister. By which I mean there was a really big tornadoful storm here, the likes of which I've never seen before. It's never a fun time when the words "historic" and "record-breaking" are involved.

But anyway! My birthday was a few days ago, and to celebrate I have a slightly belated gift for all of you!

A release date

That's right, we're back in business here in Speakerland 😁 I'm so relieved to finally return to some semblance of normalcy, and I'm very hopeful that I'll be able to get back to doing regular monthly updates again.

As for this one, the update will be going up on Patreon TONIGHT! I'll be uploading that momentarily, in fact. That means that, barring any strange game-breaking bugs or overly tangled code, the update will be out for public release on Tuesday, May 7th!

I just want to thank everyone one more time for your patience, and for all the messages of support 💙 it really does mean the world to me.

I think that's it for this time! I hope you all have a fantastic week with only mild-to-moderate tornadoes, and I'll see you all next week! 💙💙🌪️💙

#YIPPEEEEEE

[f1nalboys]

Hey... Ya know what would be cool or whatever?

*Gently kicks rock with my hands in my pockets trying not to show how much I crave this*

If you'd make The Creature!Randy as a short story au yearning for Reader/Lisa... I don't know I think it be neat...Just saying.

spooky ur a GENIUS!!!!! have not stopped thinking abt this since i watched the movie and <3333333 randy is the perfect undead husband i fear to say!!! this is a little short and really just focuses on the beginning of everything, but i hope its enjoyable nonetheless!!!!

From The Grave - Randy Meeks

The Creature!Randy Meeks x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1025

WARNINGS: post death randy, the briefest description of corpse randy, mention of roadkill, nothing too graphic tho <3, reader is around randys age when he died but no specifc age is said, inspired by lisa frankenstein <3

His grave was tucked underneath a large willow tree, the branches hanging low and wide, hiding his lone headstone. You discovered it a few months ago on a warm spring afternoon as you carefully made your way through the abandoned graveyard in Woodsboro, stepping over gnarled roots and vines. The headstone was cracked, covered in moss and dirt, but you could just barely make out some of the writing on it as you got closer, your hand swinging by your side as the leaves of the tree shaded you from the sun.

“Randy Meeks. 1978-1997.” 

He was young, like you. Alone, too, if the state of his grave was any indication. Despite passing the other graves, all in similar states of disrepair, something about this one stood out to you. Maybe it was the fact you knew nothing of him; other headstones told you that buried deep in the ground was a husband, a wife, a child, but here there was nothing. Or, maybe, it was the fact that he was of similar age to you and was hidden away like you so often felt. 

Regardless, you spent the next hour carefully scraping the moss off of the stone with your finger and, when the grime became too hard to simply push off, with your pen. You didn’t have any water or soap and as you stand, wiping your hands off onto your jeans with a pleased smile at the progress, you resolve to come back tomorrow and finish cleaning it up. Sure, no one ever came through here, and the grass was as high as your knees in some parts of the cemetery, and you swore when you turned your back to his grave you could feel someone staring at you, but you were going to finish your job here. 

And so you did. The next day, bright and early, you clean up Randy Meeks’s headstone until it sparkles in the sunlight that broke through the gaps of the leaves. But then you come back the next day, and the next, and the next. For weeks, whenever you have the chance to, you make your way through the rusted iron fence and through the thick grass to him. 

Always to him.

You eventually wear down a path to his grave, the grass around the headstone itself squashed down from your constant pacing as you talk out loud. Talking helped clear your mind, and despite no response, you felt more seen and understood by him than you ever had before. You sometimes caught yourself pausing after a sentence as if waiting for a response and everytime you swore the wind would pick up and the leaves above you would rustle his answer.

Each time you left the cemetery, you’d write off whatever you felt in the moment and resign yourself back to your lonely existence. 

And then the strange storm happened. Dark, green, swirling clouds loomed in the sky above you, but they couldn't deter you. You made your way to the cemetery, rested your head on his gravestone, fingers tracing the etching of his name, and cried. Your whispers came out quick and harsh, cut off with random gulps of air, as you told him how you just wished you and he could be together. How your life was awful, how all you wanted was to be seen and loved and be treated how you knew he would treat you. 

You wanted to join him in death since he couldn't join you in life.

There was a crack of thunder, a flash of light, and when your eyes opened you were back home. You shake it off, sure you made your way home on auto-pilot. As you stumble through your routine to get ready for bed, you pause at the sound of a groan outside. Just as you turn your head to investigate, your front window shatters and a foul smell reminiscent of the decomposing fox on the side of the road you pass by everyday wafts in. Your hand covers your mouth and nose to stop from hurling just as he crawls through your window. 

After a few laps around your house, you sit across from him in your bedroom, staring at him wearily. “Who are you?” Is the only thing you can think to ask, though it doesn’t result in much. The man keeps grunting, getting increasingly more frustrated at your lack of understanding. He’s caked in mud and god knows what else, his eyes a bright blue. He can’t talk and you can’t understand him, but you swear you know him from somewhere. You run through the list of men you know, name after name, but he shakes his head after each one, his fingers drumming on his bent knee.

Eventually you stand and give him a notebook and a pen, hoping he can write. You watch as he takes it, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, his tongue poking out from his lips as he concentrates. Finally, he looks up and meets your eye, an intensity in them you hadn't seen before. You take the notebook and look down, gasping quietly as you read the name.

“Randy?” You ask, eyes widening slightly as you look back towards him. He nods. “My Randy? From the graveyard?” Another nod and the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen him make yet. None of it makes sense. You knew that the real Randy Meeks had been dead for years but here he was in front of you. “Could you hear me? When I spoke to you?”

He nods his head once again, reaching his large hand out for yours. You grimace slightly at the feeling of the mud and viscera on his skin but you don't pull away. Instead, you watch with a morbid curiosity as he brings your hand to his undead lips, pressing them against your hand. Your hand tingles, a lightning bolt crawling up your arm. 

It was him. He was here for you. Somehow, someway, he clawed his way out of death to find you. 

It was the most romantic thing you could think of.

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream 1996 #scream #scream 1997 #randy meeks #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n #the creature #lisa frankenstein inspired fic teehee

[f1nalboys]

pictures titled “just a girl and her dogs” but they’re all pictures of men in a submissive stance to the woman

[f1nalboys]

save me dilf ghostface randy SAVE ME

#i’m howling in agony i’m twisting and turning and doing other unsavory things rn #i love and need him

[f1nalboys]

i need to know your thoughts on ghostface randy?

- 🐺

oh anon… u have unlocked the floodgates. i’m drunk and high rn AND on my phone so pls bare w me while i prob spell stuff wrong

i think abt ghostface randy probably every single day for at least an hour <333333 i Love him. i think there’s def a personality shift w him as opposed to regular randy, like i think he’d be a little bit more withdrawn and just a little more morbid (which i know is hard given that he’s already a morbid freaky son of a bitch LMFAO)

he is VIOLENT like ….. this guy is one of the most gruesome ghostfaces and i stand by that!!!! ghostface randy has a lot of pent up anger at the world. like yeah he has a good home life and he has friends but he is ANGRY and he knows he won’t get Every Single Thing he wants in life and that people view him in a certain light despite his best to change their minds, and that pisses him off. i also think he could do it solo but he’d be the Best with a partner (ghostface reader anyone?????)

randy loves showing off, we see this time and time again at the stupid jokes he makes constantly. he has never shyed away from having all eyes on him, so having a partner who won’t be scared by what he’s doing is not only the biggest turn on, it’s going to make him the most violent mf u have ever seen!!!!! i don’t wanna say there’s a sexual thing abt killing for him but like… there totally is 😭 the act of killing is so hot to him, the power dynamics and the act of having someone life in his own hands, it is enough to get his adrenaline pumping enough to where he either has to fuck or jerk off right after it’s done (and yes sometimes still covered in blood sorry!!!!!)

he would have a list of people he wants to kill initially but i think he’d space them out so he can’t be connected to it (classic horror slasher shit, u know?) so there will be random people that accidentally piss him off or just cross paths with him at the wrong times that get it too.

he’s def a better liar in this au bc canon randy is a good liar but only to one person (like how sid doesn’t think he likes her but everyone else knows he does bc he won’t shut the fuck up abt it) so u cant trust ANYTHING he says!!! even in a committed relationship, he’d lie abt small things with no stakes just to see if he can get away with it (he can)

he’s more flirty and confident in his sexual life than regular randy too but it’s romantic stuff that throws him and he is nervous abt!!!!! i need him.

oh also this randy has a weird natural charisma where it’s really hard to hate him but when he does something just fucking weird u will never forgive him or trust him again, u know? but also good luck keeping ur friends if u fall out w him, he’s turning them against u … an all or nothing kinda guy

#randy meeks #scream #scream 2 #randy meeks x reader #ghostface randy #tehee

[f1nalboys]

fic going up tomorrow at 11:30 :3