#but I'm obsessed with the props and set departments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andantexvii · 2 years

Text

// Promises // Pt. 3

Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Word Count ~ 5,071

Summary ~ Two weeks of silence following a tense departure has left a disillusioned Eddie ready to write his attempt at friendship off for good. That is, until she reaches back - giving him a glimpse at why she hesitated, and hope for the future.

Warnings ~ profanity; marijuana (mentioned); implications of past abuse; Eddie looks disrespectfully 👀; more Tolkien lore(?); implications of Bi!Eddie (if you squint, but I'm all for it); use of she/her pronouns

Notes ~ Look, I just can't stop adding Tolkien references - I loved Eddie from the outset, but when he was a confirmed Tolkien nerd I was smitten. Sorry for the wait! My medication-addled brain can sometimes overlook some editing errors. If it’s glaring, I don’t mind being notified, but if it’s passable, let it pass~ Reminder the time is adjusted to 1987 - enjoy!

---

Requested tags: @eddieswifu @missfangirl-slightly-obsessive [To be added for future updates, shoot me an ask!]

---

→

An echo of excited voices could be heard from one end of the abandoned halls, to the other; muffled only slightly by the moth-eaten curtain of the cafeteria stage. Evidently, it hadn't been moved since the school had the budget for a theater department, however long ago that was, and all showy gatherings were relocated to the stuffy gymnasium. All for the better, Eddie figured; it added a certain air of mystery to the dungeon-like atmosphere he'd created for Hellfire in the abandoned space.

Sure, the school paper and yearbook acknowledged they existed, after some repeat convincing, and the administration was vaguely aware of a fantasy game club among their roster of art, sports, and other socially acceptable hobbies. None of them, though, could likely point out where the club met exactly, aside from their begrudging permission to use school facilities. It worked out, though, giving the club members free reign to root through the stacks and boxes of abandoned set dressings to cater the space to their specifications.

Mirrors and lazily painted backdrops draped with dusty, costume cloaks gave the small space the eerie feel of a long forgotten manor. Vaguely medieval props of wooden shields and painted foam swords alluded to the trials and tribulations of adventurers of ages past. Still, Eddie's favorite find, a leftover from some Shakespearean production or another, was his throne-like seat: crafted by a theater student long before Hellfire's time, who had no idea the new purpose it would eventually adopt. Not that he'd ever admit to it, but he was sure it was rather obvious to the other club members the subtle sense of enjoyment he got from heading the table in it; well, that and a few well-placed candles for ambiance.

Eat your heart out, King Lear - the Dungeon Master is here.

"That's bullshit!" Dustin roared across the table, slamming his fist. "Lemme see your dice!"

"It's a nat 20, Henderson, deal with it!" Gareth snorted back at the boy, scribbling something down on a piece of scrap paper and whisking it out of sight.

"With that, the hall falls eerily quiet; there's no sound but the pounding of your own racing heart in your ears…" Raising his hands to quiet the table, Eddie leaned in to pour his trademark theatrics over the game space. Everyone leaned in, without hesitation, hanging on his every word. "With your enemies driven before you, a sense of uneasy calm washes over the party. Victory, we have victory!"

A small cacophony of joy erupted around him, each player happy to have survived yet another encounter. Barely, anyway; the battles had only proceeded to become more and more difficult, even if the campaign was still rather new. They knew Eddie prided himself in providing engaging, and challenging content, but this was a new beast entirely.

"BUT!" He began again, eliciting a small gasp from the huddled table. There was a pause, as he looked at each player in turn, before his eyes fell on an empty chair to his left. He'd put it there two weeks ago, the last time he'd invited a new sheep into his fold, and there it stayed with no occupant ever since. Furrowing his brow, he scolded himself silently for worrying about it so much - so she hadn't wanted to play with them, big deal. At least, that's what her actions up to now had implied. It wasn't the first time he'd been turned down and it certainly wouldn't be the last, and yet…

Having barely spoken to her since the night they'd bonded, if it could be called that, over pot smoke and laughs he couldn't help but wonder. Or, was it a worry? Sure, he'd feared his bold assertion at the end of the night might have alienated her a bit, especially since they'd only just met, but Eddie had been socially rejected before. In fact, he probably had an Olympic gold medal in it by now. Maybe Guinness could come and verify him for a world record if he wrote them politely enough.

Still, even if he'd accidentally kicked closed the door of potential friendship, he knew something other than his own, pushy awkwardness had to be at the heart of it. He hadn't seen her at her usual place in the courtyard during lunch, working on her drawings; she'd been missing from several chemistry classes, and when she had been there, she'd been so heavily invested in trying to keep her eyes open, she couldn't have talked shop with him if she'd wanted to. Even through all that, and knowing full well it was none of his business, Eddie knew he was being haunted by the cruel remarks of who he could only assume was her mother. It wasn't his place to ask, hell, it wasn't his place to worry, all the while it felt like some kind of classic morality riddle.

"...but? But what, man?" Mike leaned into the table a little as Eddie's prolonged, distracted silence became more noticeable.

"Eddie, dude, everything okay? Ding-dong, Earth calling!" Dustin reached out to wave a hand toward his face, good-naturedly.

Snapping back to his senses, Eddie scrunched his nose at the intrusion of his personal space, swatting at Dustin's hand like a fly.

"BUT!" He started again, with a renewed sense of urgency and dramatics. "The calm air around you begins to stir with an unfamiliar energy. It's dark, sinister, and impossible to trace the source of-"

"I wanna' make a perception roll to find the source!" Jeff fumbled for the correct die before Eddie stomped once, flustered, taking back control of the narrative.

"Ack, tsk, tsk, tsk! It is impossible! Impossible, as you currently are, to trace the source of this terrifying power! It pulses around you, like a heart beating, buh-bum, buh-bum…" He flexed his fingers in the light of a flickering candle, imitating the sound. "It's ali-i-i-ive almost! And before you can even lower your weapons a voice, unlike any you've ever heard echoes out, the sound like it's coming from everywhere all at once. From inside your own minds!"

Pausing for dramatic effect Eddie grinned, turning suddenly and leapt into his chair. From his new position above the table, he stretched out his arms, pulled in a deep breath, and bellowed over the room.

"BOLD OF YOU TO HAVE COME THIS FAR, LITTLE HEROES!"

The players seated closest to him recoiled slightly, jumping as they were startled. Eddie fed on the energy, bracing himself on the table with one foot, cupping his hands around his lips.

"But bravery alone will not save you from what is to come! If thou wouldst face me, take up arms and heart, show me that you are made of sterner spirit, than the mettle of those who have come before you!"

The room below him was silent, as he swept into a self-congratulatory bow, jumping down from his perch with a loud thud.

"Glad you all could join me, and one another, again this week. Whe-e-ere will next week's travels take us? Welp, gotta' show up to find out; now get outta' here!" He laughed with the group as he feigned disdain. "Drive safe!"

"You're just gonna leave us in the dark like that?" Gareth let his head fall back dramatically.

Leaning over to fold his notebook and screen, Eddie blew out the nearest candle with a teasing bit of a wink.

"Not enough upper body strength to dangle on a cliffhanger that long? You'll tough it out big guy!"

The others talked among themselves as they gathered their things, chattering animatedly about the night's adventures and what was to come. Eddie leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, wishing sorely for a bit of herbal relaxation after all the excitement. Oh, but the closest stash was in his van, and he’d yet to summon the strength to drag himself out. Still, he smiled slightly to himself, listening to the others talk as they filed out of the room; it was an art, the ability to weave a compelling story together. Sure, he didn't fancy himself a Dickens or Twain or whatever people considered peak literature, but so few would consider his medium worthy of admiration anyway.

Basking in a few moments of pensive silence, Eddie leaned forward and began stacking his books, shoving them haphazardly into his backpack - where they warranted somewhat more space than his school work. His time of private reflection was broken when he heard the door open again, and the sound of someone shuffling inside.

"Not giving you a ride, tonight, Henderson. I got two joints and my sweetheart waitin' on me at home." He grumbled without looking up; though there was no response and he rolled his eyes as he lifted his head. "What did I just say, I- …oh."

Before him, back nearly pressed flat to the door from his outburst, was the last person he'd expected to see. Well, maybe not the last, but certainly one he'd been willing and prepared to write off after tonight. Even so, like an oddly welcomed vision, there she stood, and Eddie felt so very suddenly like a complete moron.

"You!" He jumped to his feet, wearing an incredulous grin. "You, uh, finally came, huh?"

She approached the opposite end of the table, eyes scanning the empty room anxiously. There was a bag slung over her shoulder, and something held carefully in her hands. Eddie couldn't help but notice how dreadfully tired she looked; even so, he breathed an unconscious sigh of relief as he felt his fears were slowly assuaged. Some of them, anyway.

"Terribly late, it seems." Her voice was soft, and slightly hoarse.

"I mean, yeah, maybe, if you wanna look at it that way. Maybe you're right on time?"

She perked an eyebrow at him, curious, as she'd watched the others disappear down the hall, and he'd clearly been packing to leave as she came in. Not exactly what she'd call a timely arrival, but, it was at least an answer to his inquiry, long overdue: she wanted to be here, perhaps in spite of her better judgment.

"C'mere, sit for a while, no sense coming all the way down here just to turn around and go back, huh?" Eddie beckoned her toward the head of the table, where he still sat perched on his throne. He leaned back and opened his arms, gesturing broadly to the space they'd created for themselves. "What do you think?"

"This your other-other lair, huh?" Walking slowly around the table, she eyed the strange assemblage of items strewn about the room. Gingerly, she placed a small tupperware container on the table and let her bag rest, dangling off the back of a chair. Snorting to herself, she eyed his questionable choice of seating. "I think it looks like a Ren Faire garage sale. Er, tavern sale? That the auctioneer's throne you have?"

"Hey, we worked with what we had, and one does not argue when things are given freely. Admittedly, it's just a bunch of old play props, but you know, whatever. …and I'll thank you for recognizing this is the Dungeon Master's throne, yeah?"

"Oh, is that so? Does the bidding start at ten shillings?"

"She's priceless, smartass." Eddie caressed the arms of the chair, defensively; trying not to give her the satisfaction of his laugh and failing miserably. "I thought you were determined to avoid me, er, us, forever, you know?"

"I hadn't been avoiding you, I just…" She trailed off, taking a seat and rifling through her bag. After a few seconds she produced a familiar sketch pad and laid it on the table between them. "I've just been tired, I guess, had a lot of work to do."

"I could tell! You snoozed through more chemistry lecture yesterday than I usually do! That's saying something you know, 'cause that's my dedicated nap hour. You're usually all diligent and shit, taking notes. Bleh." He grinned, hoping to help her feel at ease. Maybe she was too late to join them for the night's session, but he could at least get her to feel compelled to come back.

"Heh, yeah. Kind of embarrassing actually, I usually fly under the radar with teachers, too. Not used to being called out in the middle of class like that."

"Bah, it's nothing. You're smart, and pay attention otherwise, they'll forget about it by next week. So, um, what brought you to Hellfire, finally?" Legs crossed as he leaned back in his seat, he fiddled with one of his rings, absent-mindedly.

"I…" She began, but trailed off, quiet for several long moments. "I'm not sure. Last time I tried to play with a group, you know back home and all… it, um, didn't exactly turn out the best. I figured it was worth another chance, I mean, you were so insistent, after all."

Reaching for a heavy, metal thermos she’d been holding between her thick thighs she unscrewed the lid and took a sip of whatever was inside, shivering slightly, as though struggling to warm up.

"What's in there?" He nodded quizzically to her drink, licking his lips a bit as he watched her open it. ‘Eyein' her, tongue waggin', like a damn dog boy, for Crissakes.’ He could hear his uncle’s chiding in the back of his mind already.

"Oh, um, a bit of hot cocoa. It's chilly after dark this time of year, and it's no short walk, you know?"

"Wait, you walked all the way here? No wonder you were late, Jesus Christ, doesn't that beater of yours run?"

"On the days it wants to. I guess today wasn't my lucky day, huh? You, uh, want some?" She tilted the thermos in his direction and he took in a whiff of the rich, chocolatey concoction. If she hadn’t noticed him practically slobbering on the table while watching her a few moments before, he feared she might now.

"If the lady would be so kind." He managed, smoothly, dragging his gaze away from her hips and soft-looking stomach. He cleared his throat and wanting, for a moment, to kick his own ass as she flipped the top of the thermos over and poured it to the brim for him. He hadn't realized until then he hadn't eaten since lunch, and the sweet smell set his stomach to rumbling.

Taking a deep drink, grateful for the distraction, he savored the indulgent beverage as it warmed him from the inside out. It didn't take him long to realize this was no supermarket powdered mix, and he eagerly took another gulp; painting his upper lip intentionally well.

“Oh man, that’s the stuff. Anyway, I don’t wanna’ catch you walking your ass here on our account again, at least ask me for a ride if we’re goin’ the same way, huh?”

Smirking, eyebrows wiggling ridiculously, he eyed her with a faux look of stern authority; offset of course by the chocolate, milk foam mustache settling under his nose. She watched him for a moment, a smile creeping onto her face before she dropped her eyes and covered her mouth, muffling a wheezy little laugh.

“Hmm, I’m recalling something about not getting into cars with strangers?” Her voice trailed off into a grin, eyeing the deliberate mess under his nose.

“Hey, c’mon, we didn’t get off on the best foot, but we’re not strangers, are we? Damn, it’s the mustache isn’t it?” He deepened his voice comically, wrinkling his nose and wagging a finger in her direction as she started to laugh so hard her entire body shook with the effort to keep it contained. Something about seeing her relaxed like this and enjoying herself, if only for a moment, set Eddie at ease. At least compared to how he’d been feeling since the night he’d seen her nearly collapse on herself in fear, become a completely different person, and disappear into the unknown.

"Not strangers, I suppose, no. But still…" Catching her breath, she sighed, leaning into the table, eyeing him warily for a moment. She only just caught his gaze before looking away suddenly, as if the vulnerability of direct eye contact was too invasive. "I haven't quite figured you out yet, I don't think."

"Hah!" Eddie scoffed, good-naturedly, as he licked his lips and wiped them on the back of his hand. "I wanna' be able to say 'sure, good luck with that', bu-u-ut I'm a simple man, what can you do? I enjoy a cold beer, good music, fantasy freak games, and long conversations with cute folks."

"Everyone has an angle, something they're after. Whether they're up front about it or not - something only experience can teach you, y'know?" Her voice fell as far as her eyes, and she squirmed somewhat in her seat. She seemed to be studying the bat tattoo on Eddie's forearm to keep herself distracted, or maybe to maintain her focus and avoid saying something too scathing. "So, you gotta' know what they’re about, before they turn you inside out."

"That's no way to be, sweetheart. Livin' life assuming everyone has it out for you? I mean, sure, I get it, trust is hard to give and easy to lose. Hell, I've never met a person who hasn't been stabbed in the back before, but…" Pausing, tongue caught between his teeth, he suddenly realized he knew next to nothing about what this girl had been through, yet. Maybe he was being a patronizing jerk, maybe he was preaching to the choir.

"Useful as long as you're useful." She struggled to get out, as if trying to protect herself while risking opening up to someone new. It was a tightly locked door, he could tell, that hesitated to budge.

Eddie shrugged, nodding, and knowing she was right. Even if there was a part of him that wanted to find that seed of doubt in everyone like her, like him, and root it out he knew he couldn't change her mind in a single night. Maybe he couldn't in a dozen, even a hundred, but in spite of knowing he felt no illusion of heroism there was an inkling in him that yearned for it, even if it was only a fanciful delusion. So, if it took him a thousand nights, ten thousand… Desperate to break his mopey and aggrandizing trail of thought, and keep the conversation going for a bit longer, his eyes fell on the sketch pad between them.

"I see the master has brought her tools of the trade! Now, I've never posed for a portrait before, but, I think you can capture my good side, let me just turn around."

"Ah, that's your good side? I could hardly tell the difference between the two, what with all the shit you like to talk." Grateful for the change in topic, her wit returned with a smirking vengeance.

"Oof! Critical hit!" He fell limply into his chair, "I'm gonna' have to be careful around you, if you keep throwing out whips like that. Seriously though, I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I kinda' wanted to see what else you've got in your magic sketch tome there."

Her hands spread out, protectively, across the cover of the drawing pad. She wasn't used to sharing her art with others, much less being asked explicitly about it. Remembering, fondly, his childlike glee at her Trees of Valinor drawing she smiled gently, knowing he was at least safe to share that much with.

"Well, I finished it. This one, and thought maybe you might want to see the end result." Opening the cover, she revealed the finished piece: two majestic trees on twin cliffs, one gold, the other silver, their glowing boughs reaching for one another as a city of pure white sat nestled in the distance behind them.

Eddie got slowly to his feet and gently turned the paper toward him so he could see it properly. Bracing himself on the table, he fanned out his fingers and tapped his knuckles noisily against the wood. His head bobbed a few times as he'd lean in to observe a small detail then lean back to take the whole image in again; his body vibrated excitedly on the spot all the while.

"Listen, I gotta' know what entity you sold your soul to, to be able to make…" He pointed exaggeratedly at the drawing several times, a look of pure glee on his face. "This! All this! Oh, shit, you gotta' be a warlock, this is so incredibly bitchin'!"

"The entity of practice and nothing better to do, honest!" She chuckled, face flushed as she wrung her hands; unsure of what to do with such praise.

"Okay, okay I believe you." He raised his hands in acquiescence. "But I'm watchin' you, and the fi-i-irst hint of magic I sniff out… ohh, hey, I know!"

Dropping suddenly to his knees, ever the showman, he elicited a small gasp as his friend leaned over the table to make sure he hadn't actually hurt himself. He tore open his backpack and began rooting deeply through the books and wads of crumpled paper.

"Saw you eyeing my tatt, earlier. Dunno' if you've got any ink, but you appreciate art enough, yeah? So… I figured… you just might… ah!" Thrusting his arm into the air, sudden and triumphant, he waved his prize a few times before tossing it onto the table. In the brief silence, she laid eyes on a well-loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

"I, uh, well…" She looked between him and the book a few times. "I mean, I've done a lot of Tolkien art-"

"I know, I know, and believe me I'm gonna' squeal like a girlie on prom night about all of them! You know, when you're comfortable enough to show me and all, bu-u-ut!" Leaning over the book he began flipping pages until he found what he was looking for - a break in the walls of text with a simple, black lined drawing they were both familiar with. The Doors of Durin.

Peering over the pages, she could see he'd gazed at this particular passage many times. The fraying paperback's spine cracked along the edge, almost permanently bookmarking itself.

"Think you could do it? I mean, yeah, of course you can, but, would you? I'll pay, I'm no cheapskate, I appreciate art." Eddie slid the book across the table to her, leaning in with a warm, excitable grin. "...and the artist."

She peered at the book as though it were her first time seeing it, even though her own worn out copy of the epic tale waited for her at home. Giving the hard, black illustration a once over, she noticed the faint appearance of overlapping lines between the ones inked on the page; he'd definitely tried tracing this before.

"It's just some simple line work, I mean… sure I could replicate it, but, what for?"

"Yeah, yeah but you and your pencil magic? I thought if anyone could jazz it up a little bit, give it some edge? I've been wanting to get it tattooed for ages now, but I didn't wanna, you know, just have someone copy a book page onto my ass."

"Wait, what?" She grinned at him, halfway amused that he'd want to permanently emblazon her work on his body, and at the thought of him face down in a tattoo chair. Maybe that was more of a blush, now, as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

"Uh, of course, was thinkin' about ri-i-ight here?" He struck an exaggerated pose as he struggled to lift his shirt and gesture excitedly at the bare skin of the middle of his lower back. Now she couldn't help but imagine he was pulling her leg, urging her to laugh any way he knew how.

"Oh, right above your own mineshaft. Very classy, sir."

"Well, do you know of any better place to advertise 'speak friend, and enter'?"

The pair burst into laughter, hardly able to take the other seriously in the moment. All the anxious churning in her stomach had finally given way and for the first time the entire night, she felt relaxed. Admittedly, it was far more difficult to do when she wasn't on the better way to being stoned, but Eddie made himself a comforting presence no matter the strange theatrics he injected into the situation. She wasn't used to people trying so hard to make her feel welcomed and at ease, but in that moment she imagined she could… and that she'd very much like to.

"Uhm, am I interrupting anything in here?" Their bouts of uncontrollable laughter were suddenly silenced by the intrusion of a third voice. Eddie turned suddenly to spot Dustin lingering by the door, a charming grin on his face as he eyed the two.

“Christ! Henderson, you sneaky little shit!” Eddie snapped as Dustin didn’t wait for an answer, strolling casually into the midst of their conversation; smiling all the while like he’d caught them in the middle of something scandalous.

“I’m levelin’ stealth.” He shrugged, looking over everything on the table like he was trying to piece together some mystery or another. “Listen, man, think you could drop me by my house on your way out? My mom’s with her book club or something and I don’t wanna’ sit outside all night.”

“No, look, I already told you - okay not you, but I thought it was you, and… no, no I’m not givin’ you a ride home; I got stuff to do!”

“Cle-e-early. C’mon, I’m along your way anyway… ohh, brownies!” His hands wandered the table as he spoke, and found the plastic container Eddie’s company had set down earlier and nearly forgotten about. Without asking, he pulled one out and took an eager bite. Recognizing the girl across from Eddie as the one he’d spotted weeks ago he waved politely before tipping his gaudily colored baseball cap. “M’lady.” His grin speckled with crumbs.

“Gross.” Eddie sneered at Dustin’s awkward introduction, teasing, ignoring the fact he’d done the same thing in front of her at least half a dozen times by now.

“Glad to finally meet you, I figured Eddie had scared you away when you didn’t show up two weeks running! I mean, you missed the game but… mmfh, oh man, these are so good. You make these?”

Not sure what to make of the scathing, but good-natured, banter between the two she finally snapped out of her daze with a shy smile, tickled at his offhanded enjoyment of her baking which Eddie had, thus far, failed to notice.

“You’re Henderson, right? Ah, Dustin, sorry. Eddie’s told me a bit about you.” She spoke, her tone much more subdued now.

“That would be me!” He brushed a few falling crumbs off his over shirt before taking another bite. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Oh, only ever good things…” She winked in Eddie’s direction, prompting Dustin to narrow his eyes, skeptically.

“She’s a great baker, an artist - damn, Eddie would NOT shut his mouth about your drawing for days - and tells little white lies for you when you’re bein’ a dick. Can we keep her?”

Eddie’s upper lip curled, though he tried his best to make it look more like a grimace than the creeping smile it was. He swatted at the boy’s arm like a scolding parent before turning to gather his things back into his bag.

“Don’t talk to the lady with your mouth full, sheesh. Tellin’ me you have a girlfriend, and you act like this in front of women? I’m callin’ your bluff again, big guy.”

“My Suzie adores me as I am, what can I say? Our love is the armor that protects me from your jealous barbs, oh, Eddie the Lonesome.”

“I’m not lone- stop it! This, see this? This is why you’re walkin’ home!”

“Oh you’re not? I se-e-e-e…” Dustin looked to the quiet girl with a knowing grin, though their insults flew so quickly, she could hardly make heads or tails of what he meant. Rather, she preferred not to dwell on the idea.

A strained silence grew between them, broken some moments later as Eddie’s new friend cleared her throat as she adjusted a pair of headphones dangling around her neck. He just realized he hadn’t even asked her what she liked to listen to; a classic ice breaker he’d nearly forgotten about in favor of slipping around aimlessly, hoping it would crack on its own.

“Get this sweet fella’ home safe, I’ll catch up with you later.” She smiled kindly at Dustin, and offered Eddie a shy wave.

“Wait, wait, you’re not walkin’ all the way back! What did I say earlier? It’s cold as balls and you live two doors away!” Eddie huffed, knowing he’d prefer to share his drive with a sweet girl than listen to Dustin’s teasing the whole trek across town. Even with both of them in the car, he could rest in knowing the inquisitive little sophomore would keep most of his snark to himself.

“Don’t you worry about me. It’s time for me to reflect and clear my head, anyway, I’ll be careful - besides, he needs you more than I do right now.”

“Mmhm, oh man.” Dustin’s base enjoyment of another brownie broke the tense silence in the room. “Can I take a couple of these home with me?”

“Sure, hon, take the whole thing if you want. Just bring the container back to me next week.” She gestured generously, not sure where her sudden maternal instinct had come from, and hoped it had gone unnoticed. Dustin’s chocolate-stained smile let her know it, in fact, had not.

“Hey, wait, next week? D-Does that mean… you’re comin’ back?” Eddie perked up at the prospect, dark eyes alight with tentative hope.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.”

“Hot damn! Welcome to Hellfire!” Dustin exclaimed, pausing mid-sentence to swallow.

Eddie reached over and gave a small pinch to the tender skin just behind the boy’s elbow before snatching at the tupperware in his hands.

“That’s my line, kiddo. …and gimme’ one of those!”

“Oww! Hey, she said I could have ‘em!”

Smiling to herself she drowned out the last strains of their playful arguing with her headphones, disappearing down the hall and into the chilly Hawkins night.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #promises #promises fic

83 notes · View notes

writing-in-mermish · 10 months

Text

Austenland Fan-fiction concept

I recently read Shannon Hale's Austenland, which is very very similar to the movie (props for the accurate adaptation) except for one plot point in the beginning. Instead of her choosing to spend her own money to go to Austenland, her great aunt calls out her obsession and leaves her the trip in her will as a last hurrah or something.

This has it's own implications for her character and could be dissected how being given this experience vs seeking it out changes her character, but that's not what I'm here for. In between reading (and during, lets be honest) I started constructing a fan-fiction based off the book's inciting incident.

In possible subsequent years, and/or at a different estate (as the existence of other estates is established) a new outsider is gifted this vacation. An Ace girl working at a retirement home/community. Some of the ladies there have a Jane Austen fan/book club and she's introduces some modern adaptations and starts running a regency TTRPG for them.

They love romance and the regency era and love to share their past flings and romances and setting people up. They've tried to get our to share about her love life, but they're unsurprisingly disappointed with her lack of stories. They've tried to set her up with their grand kids/nieces/nephews but it always end s up in them just being friends (or her setting them up with her other people including each other).

She doesn't really protests because she knows that part of their motivation is just for more story fodder for her games. Plus, she's made a lot of cool friends this way. One of the ladies is particularly invested and has often been the person to sponsor the club and their games. After she passes away, our girl learns that she left her a trip to Austenland in her will, with a lovely note thanking her for being new life into their club and encouraging her to find her own story and bring it back to the club.

All of the ladies also encourage her to go, so she sets off. She's been to many renfairs, Society for Creative Anachronisms/other cosplay events and has done some historical costuming and role playing in the past so she's partially excited to see how this hard this place goes. She also is focusing on getting the inspiration to bring back, so she's brought a journal and pencil (that will fit the aesthetic of course).

While she's there she often finds herself snickering at the script or improve being done, and will "show up" the performers in flirting with them or the other guests. This behavior, paired with the note taking and question asking has led them to believe she's a reporter/journalist/reviewer and they need to up their game. They don't want another Jane incident on their hands.

Meanwhile, she's also struggling with mourning her friend and questioning whether it was a good idea to come or not. probably dissecting some sort of issue with not being able to deal with tough subjects in her own life but loving to play at them through fiction and games. (Giving a real Emma vibe to this story to parallel the books Pride & Prejudice thing, except sans romance).

She also becomes friends with another guest who is gay and was sent here by her rich parents as the weirdest version of conversion camp (like, your just not into the men you've met, but if you experience "the pinnacle of romance" through this you'll get over being gay). Obviously they hit it off in the friendship department and our girl is going to help her reach out to her girlfriend.

She concocts a scheme to invite her to the big ball so they can have their romantic moment (and possibly reconciliation due to "breaking up" before she got sent away).

I'm not sure what the big conclusion for her character arc is. Maybe, they figure out she's not a reviewer and offer her a job based off her skills, but she turns it down because she realizes that she already has somewhere she belongs? Maybe she does some big final tribute to her friend? Maybe she does have some romance with her "Mr. Knightly" character (though I'm less interested in this option)? Maybe she goes back and shares her experience with the ladies or at her friends grave and promises to remember their stories and cherish them just as they did Austen's work, even if they aren't as widely known or loved? Maybe some combination there of.

I don't know that I'll ever actually write this down in a more narrative fashion, but I thought I'd share it here anyhow.

#writing #fanfic #austenland #jane austen #asexual #aspec

1 note · View note

curetapwater · 3 years

Text

Obsessed with the Hannah Montana episode that was billed as the third portion of That's So Sweet Life of Hannah Montana. Like. Its only connection to the crossover is that the cold open takes place in a room in the Tipton and Maddie shows up in 2 scenes. The rest takes place fully in the Hannah Montana setting. ALSO it was clearly made to promote Billy Ray Cyrus's new song as opposed to promoting music associated with Hannah Montana. But the funniest part of the episode is when Miley, Lily, and Jackson are going through old Billy Robby Ray merch and they happen upon a Robby Ray doll and it. It's just Aiden. They took a Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus Aiden doll off the shelf at their local Target and stuck a mullet on him and called him Robby Ray Stewart. I'm dead, it's so funny. Every time I see Aiden or his doll I just think about how either the props department thought he looked just like Billy Ray Cyrus or, more likely, they bought the first Ken doll in the store that they saw.

Ah yes. Billy Ray Cyrus himself.

#hannah montana #barbie #magic of pegasus #barbie movies #disney channel

44 notes · View notes

scoups4lyfe · 2 years

Note

I was thinking that too like WHO in the family bought that but. NO....

who in the PROPS DEPARTMENT DECIDED TO PUT THAT ON THE SHOW???????? AND RIGHT IN BETWEEN THEM IN OUR DIRECT FIELD OF VISION LIKE. HOW WERE WE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE STARING AT THE POSESSED DEMON BANAN DOG????

I seriously need to know who put that on the set of MY KAMEN RIDER REVICE

I also can't tell if. if it's like paper mache or poettery?????????? I am obsessing over this thing I wish I never met it lmao!!

f*king me about to be haunted in my sleep by that stupid asf dog furniture thing

lmaOOOO.

Good question on set design but

I can only smile and wave bro. Smile and waVE. 🤣 🤣 🤣 🤣

Idk what it's made of either. Idk I'm placing pets on papermache.

#the bet is 1 smile <33 #lOL #I am very poor #have mercy #but yeah deadass same tho fam #like why the sht did they put that there #I mean....ok #tech not out of place either...#oOG #kamen rider revice #kronthescoup #my thougts #ikki why is ur demon so cringe #watching revice #revice #kr revice #bath 19

3 notes · View notes

todourouki · 4 years

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Bakugo (1)

a mini series | chapter ONE

✰ I’m finally posting a bakugo mini fic and I don’t think y’all understand just how fucking excited I am for this WHEW anyways yea I think I can post part two in a few hours <3 wanting after this it’s literally just sex and irdc xox enjoy

btw y’all see the gif I made? ain’t it mad cute? ugh i’m soft for this bozo

PAIRING bakugo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT 3.0k

WARNINGS cursing

✎ 2 | ✎ 3 | ✎ 4 | ✎ 5

The office was a generally quiet area. That's how pro-hero Ground Zero liked it. There was always calm, instrumental music playing in the back with everyone dressed in their dark hero outfits in contrast to the complete set up of the office. Anyone hardly ever spoke, compensating for the loud yelling done by the blond man every day in his office.

At lunch, everyone ate the same food and sat with the same people, all returned to their same boring desks and always had the same looks on their face. Everyone enjoyed it, which would be hard to tell if anyone who wasn't a worker there looked from the outside. Bakugo loved the dynamic of his office, he enjoyed the consistency.

That was, until you arrived.

You had been recommended by no one other than the number one hero of his time, All-Might, so Bakugo really felt he had no choice but to take you on. He had never heard of you before— only knowing you were in freshly graduated from U.A about two years prior in class 1-A and he was a bit impressed as he read through your file given to him by the retired-hero.

Y/L/N, Y/N

19 | December 16th

Quirk: Mutation (can look at anyone and quickly mutate into them for max 30 minutes, including their quirk)

Strongest Qualities: Witty, Strong-Willed, Truthful, Punctual, Confident

Weakest Qualities: Quick-Tempered, Defiant, might have a bit of a Superiority Complex, Lazy

The minute he accepted you into his office, he instantly regret it.

You walked in with a smile that was probably a bit too bright for his liking. Your outfit consisted of a black, skin tight body suit with the zipper hanging dangerously low. It resembled the one of that one air headed girl from Shiketsu High from the practical Bakugo participated in. Your curly, voluptuous hair cascaded down your scalp, curly bangs covering some of your forehead. Your long, shiny boots went up to your thighs as you walked with so much confidence, it made him think back to the years he was in UA (which was really only like 4 years ago. He was 22).

He watched as you walked in, hands behind your back as each step made almost close to no noise. The minute you opened your mouth to make a comment about how boring every thing was around you, Bakugo decided he hated you.

It wasn't as if he would ever fire you. He couldn't. You were an amazing hero, and you did your job really well. You mastered your quirk, being able to transform back and forth quickly within the blink of an eye. You mastered stealth, played your role, and were never late to work.

His only real problem with you, was when you weren't on your outside patrols and doing outside work. Outside the office, Bakugo almost loved how good you were at your job. Inside, though? He absolutely despised you. You knew it too.

You'd do things to purposely get him riled up; always walking too slow for his liking to meetings, always being defiant during those same meetings, always sitting with your legs on top of your desk and your body leaned back against the chair as you read a magazine instead of doing actual work, always doing things he despised.

Don't get him started on your appearance either. The body suits never changed, yet they were always some different color. You had the ability to change the color whenever you wanted to on a switch designed specially to help with your stealth, and you used it on purpose.

You knew he hated the bright colors, he hated how you walked back and forth across his office in order to make him glance at the bright, fruitful colors with a smirk on your face. You knew Bakugo would never fire you— you were too damn good at your job for him to even consider it. Today, you found yourself sporting the black version of your body-suit though, wanting to give the man a break before he popped a vessel.

Everyone in the office admired you, slowly doing things like having colored flowers on their desks, or having a bit more fun at work. Bakugo noticed but never said anything.

With that, you found yourself dragging in the bag of papers you had just retrieved from some villains on the parts of town that belonged to Bakugo and his team. You smiled at everyone, politely responding to their greetings and making your way to the door of the man you loved speaking to the most. You weren't sure if it was the anger, the bickering, or the looks he gave you, but he was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. Getting him riled up was your favorite thing to do at work, honestly speaking.

You knocked on his door, hearing his groggy voice tell you to come in. The large black door opened as you pushed it, closing it once you got in and marching over to his large glass desk.

He sat there, hands behind his head as his feet were crossed across the desk and his face screamed I hate being a hero and I'm really stressed. He sat in his hero outfit, all the accessories thrown against the desk as he looked at you waiting for you to speak.

"I got the plans from that one villain hideout on 43rd. It was in this really gross building. I should be payed extra for having to dirty my suit like that." You joked, tossing the bag on the desk and wiping the imaginary dirt off your covered stomach. Bakugo grabbed the bag, looking through it and tossing it back onto the desk.

"Good, get back to work." He simply said, tiredly looking out the floor to ceiling windows across from you. You raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on your hip expectedly.

"What? No smart remark?" You questioned. He looked at you with his crimson red eyes beginning to narrow.

"I don't have time for that today, [y/l/n]." The sophistication made your nose scrunch, moving some things off his desk and propping you butt right into it.

Bakugo stared at you in disbelief, taking his legs off the desk as he stared at you with anger beginning to rise against his cheeks. Bingo.

“Get your ass off your boss's desk." He growled, making you laugh and turn your legs all the way over. They were now facing him, your entire body sitting across from his as he inched his chair back.

This wasn't the first time you had done this, honestly you knew how much he hated it which is exactly why you did it so much. You also knew he really wouldn't stop you from sitting there. It was a thing the both of you had, just like the bickering.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What's up your ass today?" Your voice was blunt, looking at your manicured hands in front of you and playing with the acrylic white tips in disinterest.

“The fact that you have no respect for your superiors." He grumbled, rolling his chair beside you and beginning to read some of the papers.

His arms were terribly close to your thighs, and you almost had to physically punch yourself to stop thinking about what it would be like if he placed a hand on top of them. You both couldn't do that, you knew how much you despised the man and you knew just how much he hated you.

“You're so fucking boring." You stated, hopping off the desk and strutting your way to the window. Bakugo ignored your, clenching the pen in his hand with more force as he sighed deeply and stood quiet.

This bothered you. There was nothing you hated more than being ignored, and you knew that he knew that you hated that.

“I said," you spoke through gritted teeth, marching over to the desk and gripping the glass with your fingers, "You're, so, fucking, boring." Each word seethed through your teeth as your irritation grew.

“Can you stop being such a fucking attention-seeking bitch and understand that I don't have time for your shit today?" Bakugo retaliated with sarcasm laced in his tone.

He lifted his head to stare at you, both your eyes filled with an immense amount of hatred that made your chest heave. This is how every conversation between the two of you went. You'd walk in, a purposely happy mood to get on his nerves, him having a shitty attitude over whatever minuscule thing happened to him, and both of you having a two lined conversation before starting to bicker harshly. Your eyes never left his, the grip on the glass hardening as you furrowed you're freshly done eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out of my office." Your boss spat, making you scoff at his words.

“You think I want to be in here?" You asked, not once breaking eye contact with the blond man. "I just want to know why the dude that signs my checks has a fucking stick up his ass—"

“That's enough!" Bakugo yelled, slamming his hand against the glass and hearing it even slightly crack.

This caused you to flinch, a scowl appearing on your face. This was the exact end you predicted. You got on his nerves or he got on yours, you'd both come at each other's throats, then you'd leave in a huff. Same thing, different day.

You stood quiet, letting go of the desk and snorting, mumbling the word fucking asshole under your breath as you turned around and walked out the door. Today bothered you more for some reason.

You weren't sure if it was the aggressive way he hit the desk that bothered you or if it was the problems you were going through back in your apartment with a certain man you wouldn't want to think about right now, but whatever it was really pissed you off.

You made sure to slam the door on your way out, walking over to the elevator and going back to the main floor where everyone else from your department was located. On the way, you passed his secretary who always gave you a sneer when you'd come out his office.

You knew, as well as every other damn person that worked for that asshole, that she had some weird obsession with the man. She also had some weird obsession with the idea of you and him sleeping together.

“You should really respect your superiors, [Y/N]." She made sure to put a disgusting emphasis on your name while you waited for the stupid, excruciatingly slow elevator to get to your floor.

“You should really suck my dick, Lui." You retaliated. You were staring at her with your arms crossed against your chest and a smirk playing on your lips.

It wasn't until you turned around that you heard another voice just had to butt in. He just had to speak when he wasn't being spoken to. The elevator finally reached the floor, yet before the doors opened, you heard him call out to you.

“[Y/N], you should really respect Lui," his voice was smug, staring at you with the same crossed arm pose as he leaned against his open door, "she is your superior after all."

You did nothing but glare at him, letting the doors close on your angry face and finally going back down to where you belonged.

✰.

Around two hours later, you found yourself shuffling papers around your desk. It had been a while since you organized it and you thought now that you had nothing to do (and by nothing, you meant having assignments you just didn't feel like doing), now would be the perfect time to do it.

As soon as you started to get in the groove, you heard your phone on the desk buzz and you just knew who it was. With an attitude, you picked up the phone, twirling the cord with your nails.

“Mr. Bakugo would like to see you." Lui sneered, making you roll your eyes and hang up. Mr. Bakugo? Get a fucking grip, you thought to yourself as you made your way to the man's office.

✰.

Ignoring Lui's orders to not walk in without knocking, you shoved the door open and walked inside the man's cold, exposed office. In front of you was a shirtless Bakugo, standing with tailors at his sides as he tried on different shirts.

You gulped, trying your hardest to not stare as you started to play with your nails. It was something you always did to make sure you didn't give the blond any confidence points. He didn't need to know how attractive he looked more than he probably does.

“[Y/N]." His blank tone made you hum in response, waiting for him to continue.

“Look at me when I speak to you." Fuck.

Your eyes rolled, maintaining your composure and looking up at the man that was now buttoning up a crimson red button up shirt that fit him spectacularly.

Your eyes roamed down to his chest for a second, studying the exposed skin before he covered it back up. The man took no notice of your wandering eyes, finally meeting your eyes and clearing his throat.

“There's a Gala in downtown Tokyo tonight. Can I count on you to attend with me?" He questioned darkly. You glared at him, still mad at what he had said to you but huffing in defeat.

You knew this day was coming. You knew you had to go with him to this stupid gala because there were most likely going to be some of the highest paid criminals around and you knew it had to do with the case you were currently working on.

And even if you just wanted to go home after work and take a fucking break from having a scowl on your face all day, you knew you didn't really have a choice.

“Yes."

Your blank response made him send the tailors towards you, beginning to take measures of your body for them. It wasn't until you had to physically stop them with your arms out.

“I actually have a dress of my own I plan on wearing, no need for all this." Your lips curved up to a smile as the men bowed in apology and went back to Bakugo.

The blond man stood quiet, letting you know to be ready by eight and to leave early if you felt it was necessary. An excuse to leave early? Of course you would take it.

✰.

You found yourself frantically fixing your make up while the time read 7:54. You didn't know it would take so much for your curly hair to come to an understanding with you, and with the way time was looking, you were in for an argument once Bakugou arrived downstairs.

He had informed you that he and his driver were going to pick you up so you could arrive together to remove any suspicion from the villains, and you honestly thought it was just an excuse for him to make sure you looked good enough for him.

After finally fixing the eyelash that was threatening to come off, you made sure you were set before reaching for the dress you had been dying to wear. It was an expensive piece, one gifted to you by a close friend that you had never come around to wearing.

It was a tight fitted, spaghetti strap, satin dress. It was a dark vermillion red with a runched up top that tighten against your breasts to lift them up.

It also had a beautiful simple back, only being connected by strings weaving in from side to side as if it were shoelaces. It went past your feet, dragging on the floor in an elegant way, and also had a slit running up landing precisely on your upper thigh.

It was beautiful, and even though it was probably going to be ruined somehow, it was something you were excited to wear.

You slipped on the garter first, a simple black material that tightened against the skin above the slit on your thigh. You shoved a covered knife in it, making sure to prepare for the worst of course.

Finally slipping the dress on, you realized you had absolutely no time to tie the strings in the back as you heard an obnoxious honking from outside your apartment complex, paired with your phone buzzing unbearably.

Without even answering it, you shoved your phone in between your breasts, and grabbed your small, black handbag that had some extra lipgloss, your wallet, and your will to leave since you know you might lose it tonight by spending it with your boss.

The ringing continued as you rolled your eyes and made sure your black strap heels were tight enough before spraying on some extra perfume and running out the door.

Your dress clung to your hand as you used your other to push through doors and scrunch your hair up. It wasn't long before you were finally outside, the honking ceasing as you finally reached the extremely long limousine. You had no time to gawk though, because soon enough the driver, Kari, opened the door for you.

“Apologizes on behalf of Mr. Bakugo, Mrs. [Y/L/N]. He will be meeting us at the location to ensure the safety of both of you." His voice rang through your ears as you tried your hardest not to roll your eyes at the man.

You got in the car with a smile, having it quickly drop as you furrowed your eyebrows and tried your hardest not to bite your lips. You weren't sitting in front of your small mirror for nothing. As the car drove off, you watched your apartment complex disappear and leaned back against the seat.

Made me rush my ass through my make-up just to not show up? What an asshole, you huffed in your seat, taking your phone out from your chest and glancing out the window some more.

✰

back to masterlist | next part

349 notes · View notes

docbrownstudies · 3 years

Note

Omg ur stories from school r crazy😳 but at the same time it sounds entertaining and now I'm suddenly invested,, do u possibly have any more stories? If u dont want to share tho, that's okay too:))

hi friend!

i’d love to share more! maybe in some ‘reliving the glory days’ sense, i love talking about my time in film school and all the antics and chaos that happened. please don’t ever hesitate to ask about it!

on that same 8pm-3am shoot i mentioned before, i was the propmaster. this was a fantasy film about elves in the woods... skyrim-esque i guess? i was handling swords and on-set props and whatnot. the set decorator/art director... literally quit in the middle of setting up so i had to take over her job too and i ended up accidentally throwing away a major on-screen prop (it was paper... i guess in the shuffle it was thrown out. we spent an hour digging through our garbage bags to find it)

same film set - the art department (which included me) got yelled at by the director/asst director because the ‘magic arrows’ a few people were painting/making day of weren’t ready for the shot... but we were never told they needed to be ready...

one of my fellow classmates was so obsessed with michael bay that he’d dress exactly like him on his film sets

a student with a huge ego demanded producer credit on someone’s film because he’d given them phone numbers of his friends who were willing to work on that set

we were lectured heavily about not aspiring to win an oscar, ever, because it was ‘stupid and foolish’ of us to want to win awards with our films

funny enough, watching the oscars on campus with fellow film majors? best thing about film school, hands down

someone made a supernatural (like, the show) fanfic-esque thing into a really bad short film and then never showed up next semester and we literally never heard from her after that

worst film i watched in film school was terrence malik’s knight of cups. oh my god i wanted to run out of that room screaming i hated it so much

watched ‘fantastic mr fox’ in my friend’s dorm on two metal chairs (the only furniture in the dorm’s ‘living room) with the tv on the floor. great movie, weird viewing

went and saw hans zimmer perform music from inception & interstellar and ended up sobbing with the girl sitting beside me (who i literally didn’t know)

i was the cinematographer on my friend’s set and our professor showed up to set midway through (as like a ‘check in’ sort of thing) and he basically took the camera away from me and did the whole thing himself

while all my friends had other film majors edit their final short films, i edited mine alone and spent most of my senior year in an editing booth eating m&ms and crying

#anonymous #ask #film major #tried calling my friend to see if she had any other stories from back then #but she didn't pick up #if i think of any more i'll start adding them to a post #in my drafts and then publish it when i have more

10 notes · View notes

morbid-n-macabre · 5 years

Text

What do you want done with your earthly remains after you pass away? Do you have a burial plan?

We all have a general understanding of what happens to our corpse when we're buried in the ground, but do you know what happens when you're placed in a mausoleum? It's a much different experience; it's kinda gory.

Funeral workers have been talking squeamish people into purchasing expensive mausoleum slots forever; they often promise a clean, dry place where your body will be well preserved. If you pay more you spend eternity indoors; there's air conditioning in the summer, heat in winter, and, often most importantly, there's the promise of no bugs. This is so completely different from the reality.

The corpse is placed behind a thin wall and left to rot; meanwhile loved ones come to visit and sometimes even kiss the wall separating the corpse from us. (We've all seen lipstick prints at the mausoleum; Don't do that, not ever!) Behind that inch thick wall is a rapidly decomposing body; corpses decompose so much quicker in a mausoleum than they do when they're in the ground.

So the building is supposed to be built in a way that allows air flow which dehydrates the body. The small space the coffin slides into is supposed to be angled, slanted so that the decomp fluids flow to the head of the coffin. If this isn't engineered perfectly, well. You can end up with a putrefied "festering soup" of bodily fluids gushing through that one inch thick wall and onto the ground.

If you wanna look it up, there are so many reports around the US of families filing suit against those in the funeral business. How would you like to be talked into paying all that extra money for your loved one only to visit and find their bodily fluids gushing out that wall and onto the floor? Imagine having that image, the ghastly smell of your dearly departed loved one etched in your memory forever!

Sometimes the body will actually explode; if the coffin is sealed too tightly and none of the gas can escape; it will become like a "pressure cooker". Workers say they hear a "boom" when this happens; just imagine that mess! So, in order to prevent this, workers have been known to open up sealed caskets a few inches to let some of the gases out. No, the families aren't often notified that their loved one's sealed casket is being opened; Thurs is illegal, you're not supposed to open a sealed coffin for various reasons. But it happens! There was one woman who went to visit her beloved Mama's final resting place and found that her coffin was being propped open with a 2 by 4! Yep, she's suing!

Now let's talk about the bugs, because that's a huge reason many people opt for these fancy above ground burials. Nobody wants anything playing pencukl on their snouts, right?

Well, my friends, think again!

Those caskets which leak and rot from all the decomposing bodily fluids? They stink. The odors attract phorid flies AKA corpse flies and death gnats. These pesky critters infest the caskets, eat the flesh, and breed right there on the remains! They particularly like to infest your orifices; you know, since they're moist. But it's not just flies!

Let me tell you about what happened to Frances Edward Vincent. This poor guy was absolutely petrified of bugs in life and desperately wanted to avoid them in death. When Frances passed suddenly in 2005 from a heart attack, his family placed him in a temporary crypt in a very posh mausoleum while construction on a new section was being constructed. Frances's family was assured that his fancy crypt would be clean, dry, and above all they were promised that his corpse would remain bug-free, of course!

As soon the new crypt was ready, Frances's entire family showed up at the mausoleum to witness as their loved one was moved from his temporary spot to in his final resting place. Imagine their surprise when a cockroach infested coffin was pulled out! "When they pulled it out, it was a cockroach field. My father's remains had been eaten by cockroaches." We're talking beyond infested, and yeah, the Vincents are suing the funeral home.

Sadly this isn't uncommon - especially here in the South; it's hot as Hades, and there will be bugs. Don't be fooled, there's no amount of money which will ensure you stay bug-free.

They do sell Casket Protectors, these keep the fluids contained and allow the gases to escape so nothing gushes out. This is done for the loved ones sake, so they can visit your final resting spot without smelling and seeing your funk.

Now, I'm not telling you that all people in the funeral industry are lying con artists, that's simply not true; a lot of them are caring and honest people. Also there are some really well constructed mausoleums out there, but even then there are often still problems. If you still wish to spend eternity in a mausoleum, do your research before buying; the funeral home is not going to tell you all the bad things, they explain "just enough". If your heart is absolutely set on a mausoleum, experts say to tour the place, make sure there's no stains or smells, and search for things like hidden air fresheners. Never buy a sealer casket for a mausoleum; if you're told they're required, run! And think about buying one of those overpriced plastic bags to go around the coffin so your leakage doesn't spill out onto the floor.

* Yes i realize many find it silly to worry about what happens to a corpse after death; after all, you are dead! But still a ton of people really do worry about it. I researched this after my grandmother (My Meme) died; to say we were close is an understatement, she was my entire world. My Meme was promised by the salesman that if upgraded her plot for the mausoleum she'd have AC in summer and heat in winter (she had emphysema, and had a hard time breathing in the heat lol so the whole AC thing got her. Silly since the dead don't breathe, but that was my Meme 💛). She was promised that her corpse would be better preserved, and there would be zero bugs. After her death i obsessed over her remains, what was going on with her body. My research upset me beyond words; my Meme was taken advantage of, and she should have been placed in the ground. As for me, I am leaning towards cremation.

#death #funeral #mortuary #buried #true crime blog #true story #facts #embalming #coffin #mausoleum #explosion #gore

19 notes · View notes