My Ghost Boyfriend

My professor, Dr. Alyvia Horne finished the intro to her presentation and assigned each group a different spooky ghost related topic to study and create a presentation on. Simple enough, but there was just one problem though.

"Wasn't Halloween like 2 weeks ago? Why are we finishing our paranormal unit so late? Like wasn't it supposed to be the Halloween Unit?"

I just had to ask it. Don't get me wrong: I love my Supernatural Studies class and what not. But why does my professor always assign shit late? Like come the fuck on...

Me. (Sorry I had to).

"Mr. Ellis. Your group will have to do something extra to impress me since you asked a stupid question."

"I thought you said there were no dumb questions?"

Dr. Horne rolled her eyes at me and said something under her breath.

"What was your group's topic again?"

I read the notecard she gave the members of my groups exactly.

"The Ouija Board and its False Association with Evil by the Evangelical Right."

"Hmm," she scratched her chin as she carefully considered what she would say next, "For asking such a stupid question I want a 100-page essay from each of you about your topic during each decade since the Ouija Board's creation in 1890."

My group members groaned, and she dismissed the class after no one else asked anymore questions. I checked the time. 30 minutes early as always. The one benefit of her class...

"Nice going ass wipe," my best friend, Alan Crawford groaned, squirting water from the bottle he poked a whole in at me. I evaded his projectile fluids and kept walking with my group to our next class, which was ironically taught by Dr. Horne's wife, Dr. Madison Horne.

Alan was a nature lover at heart, finding solace in the tranquil embrace of the wilderness that surrounded Moondrop University's northside. A hairy twink with a mischievous glint in his eyes—Alan always stood out in a crowd, unapologetically embracing his own version of chaotic gay bullshit.

One could always count on Alan to lighten the mood with his infectious wit and playful demeanor. As a self-proclaimed rebel and prankster, Alan kept his friends on our toes, concocting elaborate schemes that never failed to leave everyone in stitches. His fascination with true crime mysteries even led him to start his own podcast, where he delves into the darker side of human nature with a morbid curiosity that both intrigued and unsettled his listeners (mostly me).

Despite his non-conformist nature, Alan's genuine kindness and compassionate spirit shone through, endearing him to those lucky enough to know the real person beneath the facade of mischief (aka me since I've known him since we came out of the womb since our moms were besties and managed to give birth 2 hours apart from each other; can you guess who's older?).

As the sun cast a golden hue over Alan's bleached blonde hair as we walked amidst the swaying trees, one thing was certain—in a world that often-demanded conformity (his words not mine), Alan Crawford was a rare and radiant beacon of authenticity.

"Hey, it's not my fault I let the intrusive thoughts win. Besides I didn't think she would be such a fucking bitch and assign us all an extra essay on top of all the shit she's having us do. If I do all the work on each of your guys' essays and do half of each of your work for the project, will you forgive me?" I pleaded, taking a bite out of my sandwich as we approached the Kline School of Liberal Arts. Dr. Horne (the wife of the Supernatural Studies one) taught Gender Studies.

Quick pause.

You might be wondering why Supernatural Studies isn't considered a Liberal Arts class. Well, it's all because the Supernatural Studies class is taught by a woman with three PhDs in World History, Anthropology, and African American studies. And since we're her only Supernatural Studies class, Moondrop University decided to count the class as a History Class. Which is why that bitch tries to force the history of supernatural bullshit on us rather than actually teaching us anything because she'd rather kill herself than actually give any of us a clear answer on what a ghost is. Instead of teaching us shit like that, she just yaps on about how we need to do our research. Like girl, I get that it's your first year teaching this class, but one: can you not be a bitch about it; and two: actually fucking teach us something!

"Rhett, you really are hard to say no to. But I do expect that 100-page essay and the other half of the Ouija in the 21st Century segment of our power point completed in 3 weeks," Franky Gordan chimed, holding his boyfriend, Harley Pharrus tightly at his side as we walked up the steps of the Liberal Arts building.

Ah...Where do I begin? Franky Gordan, an extremely white (and I mean white as in European exchange student white) man with a physique carved from marble, exuded a raw athleticism that seemed to ignite the very air around him. His veiny arms flexed with power as he strode confidently down the street, a magnetic charisma emanating from his presence. Franky's piercing blue eyes held a hint of mischief, and his sandy blonde hair tousled in the light breeze, framing a chiseled jawline that spoke of determination and strength. Harley Pharrus, with a body that seamlessly blended masculine and feminine qualities, moved with a fluidity that spoke of a deep connection with the world around him. His slim thick frame exuded a quiet confidence, each step a dance of elegance and poise. The radiance of his dark mahogany skin seemed to catch the sunlight, bathing him in a warm glow that drew gazes of admiration wherever he went.

Franky, with his veiny muscles and newfound bisexuality, found himself drawn to Harley's enigmatic aura, while Harley, with his whole lot of fucking baggage from his ex, saw in Franky a reflection of hidden depths waiting to be explored.

As the story goes:

One fateful night, their paths crossed in a dimly lit club where the music throbbed with a primal energy that matched the beat of their hearts. Franky's eyes locked onto Harley's, a silent understanding passing between them as they moved in perfect harmony on the dance floor. The world around them faded into a blur of colors and sounds, leaving only the electrifying tension that crackled in the air like lightning.

As the night wore on, they found themselves entwined in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving as one in a symphony of desire and longing. In that moment of perfect union, they transcended the boundaries that society had placed upon them, finding solace and acceptance in each other's arms. Franky's strength cradled Harley's grace, while Harley's vulnerability ignited a fire of passion in Franky that burned brighter than any star in the sky.

And so, against all odds, Franky Gordan and Harley Pharrus became an unstoppable force, their love a testament to the beauty that lies in embracing the diversity of the human experience. In a world that sought to divide and separate, they stood as beacons of hope, shining brightly in the darkness and illuminating the path towards a future where love knows no bounds. And as they walked hand in hand into the dawn of a new day, their hearts beat as one, a rhythm of love and acceptance that would echo through the ages...

The point is: Franky and Harley are couple goals and they're like really fucking hot and I would like totally have a fucking threesome with them like holy fucking shit oh my fucking god I want to make babies with the two of them and I would most definitely let Harley fucking step on me and I would take Franky's dick with no lube, no protection, no prep and I just really want to fuck them but like I can't because they're like my new friends that I just met this year and they're both like upperclassmen so like that'd be kind of weird, especially since I only turned 19 like a few weeks ago (my birthday's Halloween believe it or not).

Though it does suck that the only class I have with Franky and Harley is Supernatural Studies with that cunt Dr. Horne (you should know which one by now).

"Thank you, at east someone here doesn't hate me."

"Go fuck yourself Rhett," Harley said, walking while on his phone, Franky acting as his guide.

"Oh, come on. I literally will do the assignment; besides it's not my fault she's a fucking bitch."

We walked into Dr. Horne's (Madison come on get with the program) class, where she was conveniently missing due to both Horne's always dismissing their 3rd class of the day 30 minutes early for whatever reason to go off and be lesbians with each other pussies or whatever. That gave us more time to just hang and work on any homework or whatever.

We sat down and Harley yapped about how he hated phones because of how addictive they were and how he wished we could go back to just listening to the radio for entertainment. Harley was like obsessed with radios to an almost unhealthy degree, so when he found out about Alan's podcast, he practically wanted Alan's babies, which would've been interesting to see because not only are they both bottoms, but Alan also has a vagina (though I guess Harley's dick could be used to...never mind).

Do I just want an excuse to see Harley naked?

Yeah.

I had started working on the power point, organizing each of our sections and formatting the script for the oral presentation when Ezekial Delacruz (Alan's huge frat boy crush/situationship/fuck buddy) entered the room; loud and obnoxious as ever.

Ezekial, standing at a solid 6'2", has a muscular, hairy frame that epitomizes the "hairy hunk" aesthetic or whatever the fuck he wants to call it. His thick, dark curls frame his chiseled, boyish face, and his deep-set brown eyes sparkle with a fall themed mischief and warmth. He sports a well-defined jawline, often adorned with a day's stubble, accentuating his rugged charm. Ezekial typically dresses in snug graphic tees depicting his favorite horror flicks, paired with distressed jeans and worn-out sneakers, a nod to his frat boy roots. His flamboyant personality shined through his vibrant accessories, like neon bracelets and a vintage leather jacket that he wears proudly that clearly came from the discount section of Hobby Lobby.

Unfortunately, Alan told me all about him as soon as he stalked his socials when he started crushing on him (oh come on you do it too). Growing up in a close-knit Latino family, Ezekial learned the importance of community and loyalty early on. He also found out that Ezekial's a closet case who's "navigating the challenges of being a gay man in a conservative household, ultimately embracing his identity while keeping it hidden from most." As if being gay is such a big deal.

Like bro, I'm bisexual and I'm not screaming it from the fucking rooftops as a sob story to get into Alan's pants (not that I'd be against that though that probably would ruin things between us so it shouldn't happen...unless...no).

Attending college, he became the life of frat parties, effortlessly charming those around him and often leading his fraternity's (Alpha Phi Chi) activities as their new vice president. Loud, obnoxious, and the life of the party—a "himbo with a heart of gold". Beneath the frat boy exterior somehow (allegedly) lies a sensitive soul who genuinely cares for others. His kindness supposedly comes out when he’s pulled away from the spotlight, revealing layers of empathy and compassion that few expect to find in a gross frat asshole.

Basically, he's Alan's DL boyfriend/fuck buddy/situationship/probably a trans chaser trying to be progressive by being a homo at the same time (in my opinion at least; Alan's practically in love his ass).

"Hey guys, I know I'm like skipping class or whatever right now, but like I need to borrow Alan really quick so we can chat about him joining the Alpha Phi Chi as one of our new pledges so that we can both be on the same page."

And with the wave of Ezekial's finger (and the thought of taking his cock again probably consuming his mind when he should really be thinking about me) Alan rose up immediately like a dog and followed him to wherever the nearest bathroom was. I still don't get fucking in public bathrooms but to each their own, I guess.

I went back to typing up my section of the power point as I researched new information about Ouija boards.

Rule #1: Don't Use the Ouija Board Alone.

Playing Ouija by yourself leaves you more vulnerable to an evil spirit coming through from the other side, so always make sure you play with one or more friends.

Rule #2: Always take the Ouija Board Seriously

Engaging with spirits through tools like the Ouija board can be seen as an invitation into their realm. Disrespecting this interaction could be viewed as offensive or harmful within those cultural contexts. Many practitioners believe that failing to show respect can lead to negative consequences—ranging from bad luck to more severe spiritual repercussions. Respecting spirits also involves understanding their potential motivations for communicating. Some may seek closure or wish to convey important messages; others might be confused or even malevolent. Therefore, approaching these interactions with caution and reverence is crucial.

Rule #3: Don't Use the Ouija Board in a Graveyard

A graveyard or somewhere where a violent murder took place can be a gateway for a malevolent entity to come through the veil. You don’t want to risk opening any channels through which they may make their way in from the other side.

Rule #4: Never Burn the Ouija Board

After a particularly harrowing session, users are often compelled to destroy a board as thoroughly as possible in hopes of closing the portals they opened. To accomplish this, they will often try to burn the board – a method experienced users do not recommend. A Ouija board is said to scream if you try to burn it, and the common belief is that anyone who hears it will have 36 hours to live. Burning a Ouija board doesn’t work anyway, according to stories, as it always seems to end up back in its owner’s home intact. The proper way to dispose of a Ouija board is to break it into seven pieces, sprinkle it with Holy Water, and bury it.

Rule #5: Never Leave the Planchette on the Ouija Board

The planchette (pointer) acts as a window through the veil to the other side and being careless with it can lead to problems. Leaving the planchette on the board allows things to escape into our world. Similarly, be wary of the planchette counting down through the numbers or moving letter-by-letter across the alphabet, as that is another way an unwanted doorway can be opened to undesirable spirits and demons.

Rule #6: Never Ask When You'll Die

I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s something you shouldn’t really know? Or because a spirit will invent a terrible fate for you, then see to it that it comes true?

Rule #7: Always Say Goodbye

Closing the board is important, as it shuts the door to the other side and prevents lingering spirits from interfering in your life. Thank the spirits and say goodbye. The planchette should move down to the word “goodbye” on the board. Then you can safely put the board back in its box. If the spirit does not say goodbye back, you need to once again say goodbye, then pass the planchette through the flame of a candle.

I had an idea.

"Hey guys, what if we actually filmed a video of us using a Ouija board?"