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daydream-believin · 4 months ago

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Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]

notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)

series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.

or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.

chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao

word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)

warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty

You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.

Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.

Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.

And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.

On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.

“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.

Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?

Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.

***

The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.

The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.

There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.

That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.

I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.

You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.

The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.

You took another look back at the table as you walked away.

Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?

Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.

A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.

That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.

“You like that one, do ya?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.

“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”

“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter.. liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”

The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.

“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.

“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”

Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.

So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.

You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.

It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.

Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.

Deeply afraid.

Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.

You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.

Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.

***

Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.

You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.

“zZz-Hurricane—“

Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.

“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.

And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,

“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”

You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.

You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.

I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?

Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.

Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.

You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.

The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.

You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.

Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.

That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.

***

Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.

The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.

“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.

Well, guess you’re holding on a second.

Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.

That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.

After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.

“Table for two?”

You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.

“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”

Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”

She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.

She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.

The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”

That... wasn’t your concern.

You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.

You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.

Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.

But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.

You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.

That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.

“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”

“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”

“In Utah?”

Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.

“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”

After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.

Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.

You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.

Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.

You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.

So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.

You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.

Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.

***

You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.

Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.

“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.

You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.

“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.

Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…

Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.

Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.

“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”

Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.

If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.

“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”

When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??

Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?

The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.

Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.

You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.

“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”

He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.

“…435-555-1987?”

You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.

Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.

You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.

“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?

“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.

“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.

It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.

“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”

You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”

“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”

You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”

you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.

“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”

“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”

… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.

“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”

“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”

“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.

“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”

“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”

You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.

“Do you know where you live?”

He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”

Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.

“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”

“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.

“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.

After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.

Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.

The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.

God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—

Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.

“I’m sorry about that,”

“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.

“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.

He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.

“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.

“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.

“Nah, that’s it” you were too nauseous to eat right now.

You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you. The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.

“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.

She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”

You furiously nodded in confusion,

“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”

You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.

You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.

And.

Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.

You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.

Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.

You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.

As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.

You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.

Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.

God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.

There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.

Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.

You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.

Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.

You had to get rid of that bear.

***

You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.

You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.

A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.

God, you wished you could just skip town.

You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.

You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.

Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?

If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.

In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.

Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...

The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.

You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.

The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.

But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.

You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.

As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.

“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.

The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:

A drone shot of Zion national park

Old men golfing

Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses

Rock archways

A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,

“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.

Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool

A Navajo cultural event

More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs

Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you

Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played

Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…

The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”

Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.

***

Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.

Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.

There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.

It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!

***

Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.

But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.

The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.

You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.

You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.

What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.

You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.

You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.

***

Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.

If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.

You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.

Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.

The door was locked.

You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.

He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.

Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.

Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.

“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,

It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”

How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.

“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.

“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”

“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”

“Jesus Christ! WHY.”

Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.

“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”

“I really don’t have any money to spar--”

“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.

A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.

“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”

He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”

“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”

“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.

You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,

“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”

“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)

The door slammed in your face.

Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.

Okay.

Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.

Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.

Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.

#michael afton x reader #mike shmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf #michael afton #michael afton x male reader #i mean its gender neutral but just so my fellow boys know it's safe here. there will be no 'sweet girl' ever. god.#fnaf fanfic #five nights at freddy's #my writing #i dont even remember how to tag these things anymore lol

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bmpmp3 · 1 year ago

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Finally I have acquired them. Foaming at the mouth

why is the sasami magical girls club ost impossible to find anywhere online. where did it go. who took it

#my cd collection grows larger purely because of my insatiable desire for 320kbps rips of music i cant find online #the first soundtrack cd doesnt have a cover booklet 😔 but thats okay. the second one still has its outer box cover somehow #eitherway im just so happy to finally be able to get all those versions of that one song that one guy sings....IN HQ!!!!!!

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t-underneaththeradardancing · 26 days ago

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its not about the ice cream ffs

is that 2 strident for so early and its we gonna have some fukken coffee kind of morning

dont forget the moon we wouldnt sea otter

wise -try to find reasons every daze to look for joy some new

music or half remembered mary oliver

anywhat lets get the ball rolling - starting w a good and always kitty - still unhappy she cant play in toxic dust of construction - she not a lap cat - ever - once in a while is nice but yah up and down too much like a boxed jack unbound - a musical to go to later - we mention - the moon awready - too early 4 murder - gray sky as is normal and usual witch reminds me of rayleigh -witch unpoet wuz axing about and i couldnt find the words to mansplain - now armed w the internet ...birdsong in the evening mainly - sometimes they feed b4 or apres corvids -delighted if they get more than crumbs - in 1's and a rare 2

yah the fuckery despite it being gospel sunday - and yah theres some problematic like hollywood but then therz mavis staples

the usual mixture of not quite poetry - oh weight the dreams are all trynna get somewhere or home and getting nowhere man in a not quite accurate version of so called reality but not so much surrealist pillow if you pleez - o fux we looked at the news today oh boy and we r terror fried tho no worse than most daze

we actually edited by the way

an infinity of laundry

hallelujah

#poetry i guess #gospel sunday #rayleigh effect #editing after posting

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i-hear-a-sound · 1 year ago

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Sort of dumb Drakengard and Nier stuff I find really really interesting

this will be long. and dumb. and probably wrong. under the readmore

This is an image of what the Alien’s ship looks like in Automata. And yes, it most definitely looks like a flower. Interesting thing is, aliens coming down in a ship shaped like a flower is something that sounds really familiar to the lore: of how in Drakengard, the Watchers came down with the Flower. (fact check me if that’s wrong though)

This image is faintly in every in-game cutscene in Drakengard. These are implied to be images from the universe’s altered Bible? (Christianity is the main religion in the game, it’s just altered with things like the Goddess the seals etc). Which, means, if you squint…

this image looks like a dragon impaled on a tower. It’s pixelated as fuck but higher quality images do confirm this. If I find one of those I’ll update it. (something something, timeloop is obvious)

These two scenes have been paralleled to death. Yes, the black box scene in Automata does look somewhat moderately kind of if you squint like the scene in which Caim pacts with Angelus, but let’s focus more on the ladder scene because something has always bugged me about it.

Firstly. The souls themselves. Maybe it’s just me… they look like egg cells? Which, no, I’m not going “Caimangelus had sex, good for them” I’m going “If this is the case, what else are referred to as “eggs” in this game?”

In the original version of the game in Japan, the Seeds of Destruction are not referred to as Seeds. They’re called eggs.

another thing. We get to see what happens when a seed is destroyed in ending C. And for a brief second, it looks like this:

Another thing about this scene. Something I also never noticed was that when he pulls out his soul, Caim’s chest does… this?

I’d gif it if i could but atm I cant, but believe me. Angelus just shoots it out from her mouth he just reaches into his chest like it’s liquid. And again, back to the ending C scene:

What does this imply?

…Jack shit lol I just think it’s interesting. Smiley face.

Accord is an incredibly mysterious character in the world of Drakenier. We know nothing of her origins, who created her, why she is at all, and the most we know is:

There is a lot of her. She was created in the “Kingdom of night”. She was created by “something like humans”. She studies singularities. Her goal is to prevent the fall-down. She’s a boob lover.

Something interesting to note is that, the character of Adam kind of somewhat maybe shares a lot of design parallels with Accord. Not even just in terms of the use of white/cream.

Adam has glasses, a black tie, and on one hand has a glove similar to what Accord has. In the anime he gets the same tattoo of the Cult of the Watcher’s Eve had in the game, and Accord is specifically stated to have taken an interest in the branch involving the cult’s creation.

But what’s weird is that Adam… is a machine. And accord isn’t. At least, she’s not supposed to be? Who knows. I have lots so say about Accord but most of it is just theorizing so I’ll leave that for another day.

But I want to talk about the other twin: Eve.

Weirdly enough, Eve and Brother Nier and to an extent, the Shadowlord, share a lot of similarities as well. Sure there’s the white hair, the fact they’re both siblings of someone, etc etc etc, but something I never noticed was how similar their attacks are. Thank the fucking sadfutago church thing for that one lol.

I mean… just the fact that these two not only share the same English VA, but that in the automata DLC for Replicant, the Shadowlord boss music is replaced by Dependent Weakling. (Fact check that for me too, it’s been a while)

Weird parallels all around.

These… doors. Why are they here?

for context, in a Drakengard level you stumble across just this… room with a couple random, red doors. Some of them are open. Some of them are not. I. Don’t. Know. Why. These. Are. Here.

(I mean I do… I very much do, but again. That’s theory.)

Anyways. Doors are actually mentioned in the game, in the final line for ending C. “A pitiful child shall defy the hands of the gods, and a door will close.”

Hmmm?? Thing to note: the “hands of the gods” are dragons. “A pitiful child shall defy the dragons, and a door will close.”

And to end off this post, a fun fact; before becoming the first intoner, Lady Zero had a different name. Rose.

#drakengard #nier #drakenier #nier automata #nier replicant #drakengard 1 #drakengard 3 #caim #accord #angelus #a2 #eve #adam #lady zero #intoner zero #2b #9s #kaine #AND IF I GOT ANY OF THIS WRONG PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I DONT WANNA BE DUMB AND ILL FIX IT IF I WAS :3

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mackmp3 · 8 days ago

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the lair of the white worm the sequel if i got to make it

three or four slightly odd uni students are hanging out in their flat when one of them mentions the story about the scottish researcher & last of the line of the (now abandoned) manor house who went missing some forty odd years ago

its now supposed to be an urban legend based off the existing folk tale and while they have a good laugh about it they decide to do a bit of research into it cause theyre nerds

at this point the d'ampton worm festival isnt really celebrated as much due to the unfortunate events surrounding one of the last ones, & the lack of any d'ampton heirs to play the role of honour. our protagonists hear a really slow & creepy version of the song somewhere else though cos im a sucker for creepy folk music

all they can find is older people in the town swear up & down that the scottish boy & the youngest lord d'ampton dissapeared at the same time as this rich mysterious woman who used to live just outside of town - it was at her house that the former chief of police (or whatever his job was) died quite gruesomely - and that there have been multiple cases of disappearances in the area

they only people who would possibly know anything are the two trent sisters - one of them died a few years back & the other mostly keeps to herself - running the hostel, being polite but detatched - she is the last known person to have seen any of the above missing people

being 20ish years old our protagonists decide the reasonable thing to do is book a few nights in the hostel & attempt a break in on the old d'ampton manor house, & the marsh manor house too if they can get in

upon mentioning the missing people, eve trent gets a bit upset - one of the more headstrong of the protagonists presses her further & all she can manage to get out before quite forcefully saying goodnight is that whatever happened fourty years ago, she is afraid of 'it' coming back & finding her again

our protagonists think this is ominous but potentially a good sign they are in fact onto something & ignore the warning signs by going poking around in the house - one finds a rather strange elongated skull in a box in an accidentally left unlocked cupboard, and one has very strange dreams that she & the other girl in the group and passionately making out while their legs fuse together in a white snakey manner. yes there is fire. yes the cgi is bad. yes theres some religious symbolism. its probably unnecessarily horny too. the snake priestess from the og movie is there & she's been recast as michelle gomez. you cant stop me

the girls after this point begin giving each other long glances & touching a lot & even though they were doing this before now it looks a wholeeeeee lot gayer. implying that they both had the dream & also that they both have really for real realised theyre into each other

overall thrown by the experience, after doing some poking around to little avail (they notice a picture of eve with her old boyfriend, the missing lord d'ampton, and that a big section of the front yard is sunken a bit) the next day the decide to, once darkness falls, break into the d'ampton house

while the grounds are overgrown & the exterior weathered & overall looking like a haunted house, the inside is in oddly good shape - slightly messy & many of the windows broken but in a generally Fine condition. they think this is odd seeing as a fancy house that has been known to be empty for this long should have had it's fair deal of urban explorers & bored teenagers trashing it such as. themselves lol

the creepiest part is the house in drenched in weird snake symbolism - ancient looking mosaics on the floors, old tapestries - they put this down to wealthy eccentricty & maybe they were just cool people like snakes are kind of awesome & when youre rich you can do whatever you want with your house

the tapestries showing the white worm being slain as was previously in lord d'amptons' bedroom is spookily slashed up. big close up shot on this as they all look at it

being the protagonists in a horror film the decide to explore deeper into the house, eventually coming across the entrance to a deep as hell tunnel. they decide to go through it, taking advantage of a conveniently placed candle stick & matches (they do have flashlights they just think this is cooler & spookier) (remember they are doing this for funsies mostly not as serious investigation)

the tunnel is weirdly. bloodstained. & also very old mosiacs of snakes & shit. some weird christian & pagan symbolism here too probably with a degree of wild innaccuracies because. of course lol. the Nerd One feels the need to point this out. they walk for what feels like a really long time.

at some points while theyre in the house & the tunnel we get a shot of a glint of eyes watching them from the darkness.......... eyes with particularly strong brows....................... <- at this point if youve been paying attention the incredibly obvious plot with be solved for you but we're not in this for the plot we're in this for a camp nightmare

our plucky young protagonists exit the tunnel & end up in another different manor house, exiting via a concealed wooden door under another snake tapestry. they correctly guess this to be the marsh manor

having apparently no sense of self preservation they poke around a bit - one of them reveals yet another secret passage way, this one seeming to go deeper underground.

at this point a protagonist (one of the boys) starts getting too freaked out & wants to go back. the others are vaugley exasperated & say that theyre in this wayyyy to far now to turn around & not find anything out. they all turn their backs on him to walk down the tunnel when theres a piercing scream & he gets snatched out of nowhere. out other male adjacent protagonist calls out his name & runs out of the tunnel to find him, telling the two girls to go on ahead. they do a bit of a 'haha he's probably just messing with us' thing but they all have a really bad feeling about this

the two girls are determined to find out what the hell is happening here. they keep going deeper into the tunnel. eventually an old wooden door leads them to what we recognise as....

THE SNAKE CULT MURDER ROOM !! YIPPEE !!

meanwhile the guy who got snatched (they do have names i just havent thought of any yet) is whimpering & moaning & covered in blood curled up in the corner of the room. he's obviously been attacked by A Something. the other guy bursts in the door way & runs over to him

the door slams ominously revealing... LORD JAMES D'AMPTON !! obviously now much older. honestly i dont care if he's still played by hugh grant or not but in any case, older guy, covered in blood, 80s style rich person clothes, weird cross between vaguely disheveled & having an air of Proper society

they have a 'ahaha you have walked right into my trap and now you will all die very bloodily! you cannot save your little friends now!! no one will even know where you've gone! i shall sacrifice you all to THE WHITE WORM !!' type thing. he then hypnotises not-bleeding boy & knocks him out. bleeding boy keeps bleeding & crying or something. lord d'ampton does some dramatic cape/coat swishing stuff

the two girls are like well. i think this goes a little bit beyond wealthy eccentricity i dont think people generally put a Scary Hole in their underground cave this is actually starting to get really really weird & creepy now

a low (& scottish) voice starts monolouging from out of the darkness telling the story of the white worm - recapping the myth & briefly the events of the first movie, ending with a creepy bit about 'the passing of the mantle' of worm high preistess and how the narrator & lord d'ampton are now bound in unholy matrimony by the power of the white worm or something

he emerges from the darkness & to the surprise of absolutely no one its PETER CAPALDI AS ANGUS FLINT !! CLAPPING & CHEERING !! obviously also older but still with longish curly hair. kilt optional but tartan pants at least. no bagpipes. sorry.

one of the girls shrieks a bit & they hold each other close for comfort

lord d'ampton also emerges from the darkness & both boys are revealed tied up & bleeding in a corner. there's some manical laughter from one or both evil old guys & a homoerotic glance between them

some sort of cut to the girls? about to be sacrificed? or something idk im not good with actually writing action or the plot coming together. call me steven moffat the way i can make the build up last forever.

angus flint does some more monolouging about how the worm was mortally injured in the explosion but they managed to save the skeleton & think that by sacrificing some more young people through death will come life or something. b/c they have possessed by the snake for so long they fully are on board with this like its not the snake bite talking they Are the snake cult leaders now. they will build the cult back up from the ground and our protagonists will be the first members-slash-victims. yippee. one of the girls asks if this is what happened to the other people who have gone missing in the area - most of the also tried to break into the house for a look around but their sacrifices didnt work for reasons

just as they think all hope is lost no one can hear you scream etc etc - EVE TRENT BURSTS IN BRANDISHING A FUCK ASS SWORD !!! she frees the girls about to be cut open over the worm skull in a very cool display of badassery - she kills lord d'ampton saying something along the lines of 'you were always a shitty rich prick i only dated you for your money' or whatever

they probably all chase each other around the cave for a bit. at some point angus does a thing and a whole bunch of snakes emerge from nowhere for dramatic effect. someone gets bitten idk

some dramatic montage. maybe one of the friends gets turned? for dramatic effect. they can save her through the power of lesbianism the other girl can suck the poison out. angus flint gets fangs. maybe the ghost of the snake cult lady marsh (as played in this by michelle gomez) comes back to get mad that they are desecrating her temple so badly or something idk

snake temporarily comes back & they have to kill it again

older angus flint in kilt?

honestly ive run out of ideas now if anyone has suggestions let me know lol

#capaldiverse #the lair of the white worm #my art #<- this totally counts. awesome au sequel for the worst movie in the world <3

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onetimetwotimesthreetimess · 2 years ago

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magnus culmination of bad decision making came when he watching alec grinding against some dude in a club (i cant crack anymore)

Part I

Part II

Part IV

The second he steps inside the club, he is surrounded by a dozen of bodies around him—touching and grinding from every direction.

There’s not a single part of his body that isn’t being touched by someone right now and Magnus from a year ago would’ve thrives under this, but this Magnus, this version of him abso-fucking-lately hates it.

On any other day, Magnus loves being appreciated and gazed by the world but not right now. Not since that night.

Not since Alec Lightwood.

Because there’s only one person Magnus wants to be touched and appreciated and loved by.

But he knows he’s been fucking up constantly for reasons which are beyond his own understanding, so in order to feel even a minuscule percentage better, he comes to the club that Catarina has been asking him to.

So he’s here.

Magnus tries to lose himself in the music, the debauchery, pushes his heart inside a box and wants to let his body feel something when his eyes land onto something and he freezes.

His eyes widen as he notices the scene in the middle of the club.

It sets fire inside his chest and a pain so insurmountable that it shakes his core.

Magnus powers through his pain and sadness but this is something unexpected because never in his years he’s ever thought that he’d ever have to witness Alec with someone else.

And it’s not just Alec standing or holding hands with someone, albeit he knows that watching Alec hold hands with someone is going to hurt more but this is excruciatingly horrible too.

Watching Alec’s arms wrapped around someone else, his head tilted sideways as the green-haired seelie kisses his neck, hand wounded in Alec’s unruly hair.

Magnus blinks a few times to check if he’s really witnessing this or if it’s his messed up brain conjuring something so evil but when he opens his eyes, Alec is still there, his hand inside the back of the seelie’s shirt.

Alec throws his head back and chuckles, but Magnus knows that it’s not his real laugh.

He’s seen when Alec laughs and making Alec Lightwood laugh feels better than whatever shadowhunters imagine must feel in the presence of Raziel.

Raziel’s powers have got nothing on Alec Lightwood’s smile.

So he knows it’s not a real laugh but that doesn’t matter when someone else has got their hands inside Alec’s pants because suddenly everything hurts so fucking much—and Magnus can’t do anything about it.

Anything logical that is.

He knows about Alec’s string of one night stands but the shadowhunter has never been cruel and throwing that in his face, has always find men that Magnus doesn’t know, at places that Magnus doesn’t go to. He has never tried to intentionally hurt Magnus.

Which makes what he’s going to do next worse.

Magnus snaps his fingers and within the span of five seconds, the seelie starts sweating profusely, his entire body itching and he witnesses and feels a sense of relief.

And so much self loathing for his actions.

It takes another thirty seconds before the Seelie separates himself from Alec and creates sone distance. The green haired man says something that Magnus can’t quite put but then the man starts walking towards the bar.

“Hello,” Magnus says warmly as he hovers over the guy behind the counter.

The man frowns before turning and then his eyes widen. “You’re Magnus Bane?”

“I am.”

“Is there something you want?”

Magnus’s smile widens, “Yes. I would like you to leave the club right this second. And never see that man again.”

The seelie turns and realises he’s talking about Alec and then gets a defiant look.

“Why?”

He knows it won’t be easy. Seelies are a tough crowd.

But this one seems young and inexperienced so Magnus snaps his finger and they’re almost dark blue.

His voice is chilled and deep with the next words. “Because I said so. You would do well with not refusing the Son of Asmodeus,” and the words leave an ugly taste in his mouth.

The seelie blinks before a wicked smile is on his face.

“So that’s the shadowhunter.”

“The shadowhunter?”

“The shadowhunter. The one who has Magnus Bane on his knees,” he adds. “I get it. He would have me on my knees in another five minutes too.”

The words sends a spike of anger and his magic turn almost black and he rages, “Leave.”

The Seelie puts up his hand in mock surrender.

“I will leave. I just need to say goodbye to him once. Or do you want me to leave him without a word?”

Magnus wants to say yes but he can’t be this cruel to Alec, doesn’t want him to feel more used and terrible lets the man walk back to Alec and watches their conversation from afar.

He sees confusion on his place before understanding dawns and Alec nods.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Magnus turns to find Catarina with a disappointed face.

He sighs and looks down. “I know.”

“Will you stop with this idiocy?”

I wish I could.

“He will find out someday, Magnus. And there would be no damage control after that.”

Cat berates him for another few minutes and then Magnus hears a glass break behind him, he turned to see what it was but there seems to be no one in particular except a hundred unfamiliar body and he frowns.

“What?”

“Nothing. I thought there was someone.”

#these bitches might never have a happy ending lmao #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec fics #my writinf

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descendantofthesparrow · 2 years ago

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Scrapped OUAD plots/ideas

-originally, i was going to have (y/n) and Walter/Harrison reunite after she regained her memories, and she was going to be reintroduced as lady Deville at the rehearsal dinner in a blood-red dress fit for the lady. but i scrapped this due to me being unable to figure out what the fuck was gonna happen after since i wanted to continue with the wedding stuff.

-one of the versions of the final battle-had Viktoria somehow getting the necklace and destroying it, basically abruptly ending the spell (y/n) had enacted and turning everyone back into a human(lucy, Viktoria, Walter/Harrison, and evie) since Walter/Harry was dead by the time he became a vamp-unlike the girls who died upon the turn-Walter/Harry seemed to have died-in which ended the contract for the families. this basically brought everything to a halt and made Viktoria realize how much she fucked up-more in a way that made her irrationally angry and try to attack (y/n) again, only for the somehow alive Walter/Harry to get her with the candlestick that had been in his chest-the spell being broken had not killed him-it had brought him back to his human life(idk how to explain it, i had a lot of ideas for this fic) but yeah this lil tidbit had some more angst and (y/n) grieving for her thought to be dead husband who she barley got a chance to be with. (this version would have (y/n) staying in the shadows, not revealing anything to Evie to make everything more believe able/Walter didn't know she came back/the two butlers got (y/n) out themselves)

-(y/n) was going to regain her memory with Walter/Harry present, either in her room or his-and they just would've been talking-this is heavily inspired by Anastasia of course-and (y/n) remembers his scent, sharp metal and a grand forest- and reminisces about it "i used to steal your blanket and lie with it for hours, oh and how i missed you when you went away...when we were teens" and Harry/Walter then sees (y/n)s necklace for the first time, (in this version (y/n) keeps it under her shirt/doesn't reveal it to him until this moment, just to keep that sense of mystery) and soon gives her the pocket watch/music box-(y/n) regaining her memory of them upon hearing the flow of the music. "soon you'll be, home with me. once upon a December"

-(y/n) finding the castle and having visions of the past (written out)

-during the cocktail party; Walter was just gonna grab (y/n) for a dance straight away instead of taking evie first, and he was gonna do the whole dance i had them do in the next part cuz cinderella has a fuckign chokehold on me

-originally; the original carfax abbey/Godkin castle, was an abandoned west wing of the manor, where the grand ballroom, (y/n) and Walter/harry's bedroom, and a portrait of (y/n) rested. but i realized if i wanted Walter/harry and (y/n) to be far before the contract/the three families, i couldn't use the manor since-how would the alexanders-who found the manor for Walter-not know about the west wing/(y/n)? so the west wing was scrapped for the castle

i think i had more ideas for this fic but i cant think of em rn so if they come back to em ill add em but for now-enjoy these ideas that never came to fruition~

@sessediz

#once upon a december #the invitation 2022 #walter deville x reader #ouad #scrapped ideas and plots #here have more content~

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springlock-suits · 1 year ago

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1. Who's your favorite animatronic in general?(That you love all or most forms of)

10. What's your favorite music from Fnaf official soundtrack?

12. How well do you understand the lore?

17. Have you ever written a fanfic?

1: Springbonnie!!! So the Bonnie's in general!! Gosh I love them so much. Bonnie, Withered Bonnie, Toy Bonnie, RWQFSFASXC, Springtrap, Springbonnie, Plushtrap, Jack-O-Bonnie, White Rabbit, Bon Bon, Glitchtrap, Vanny, Ralpho. Withered Springbonnie/The Yellow Rabbit All favs of mine at varying levels. The bunnies <3 🐇

10: This ask probably means the movie, I mean all of fnaf >:]

Bonnie's Lullaby, which is just a music box version of Schubert's Serenade, you won't believe how desperately I want a real physical music box but can't find any less than $50 :[

As for like, made for fnaf songs, The fnaf movie intro and Smashing Windshields I'm a fan of

!!! I can't remember it or if its even made for fnaf but the menu screen music for fnaf world had been living in my mind constantly all of these years and I can't get rid of it

youtube

12: I don't 👍I haven't watched a theory video in years, all my knowledge is gained from being there as the lore happened n the games came out. I've also read the book trilogy, or well, tse and tto in full. And I've read the mimic short story from the pizzaplex books. I do not know anything about remnant or agony(???) And I Will Not. I understand 1-4 lore the best. I still dont know where sl is in the timeline tbh

17: Several! I only remember one wattpad one and I cant check bc I deleted all my wattpad fics in an embarrassed rush. You're not missing out on much though it was Springtrap × The Pringles Can man and it ended before they even met

As for like, fics I made when not 10, we have Ladies Night and A Killer's Trophy, both from this year ^v^

Ladies Night is a short one-shot featuring Henry and William. William is very gender to me

A Killer's Trophy is me trying to give Steve Raglan more scenes

#bonnet. nightmare. twisted. rockstar. glamrock bonnies tho. i dont think abt them #ask #hehehe i had fun answering this one

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newtlesbian · 1 year ago

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Omg your old machinery collection + computer assembly sounds so cool please do not restrain yourself <3 id love to hear you talk more about it

oh kisses you kisses you kisses you. i love to collect old crap irl and to build things. maybe favorite thing about building computiez is i love wire management/organizing. so proud of making sure when you open it up its still as pretty as the front. ill pop that bad boy open and straighten your shit right out whenever people let me. gently gently brushing a girls hair for her oh so sweetly

and i collect anything tbh. any format of physical media is one i love like movies games music whatever i can get my hands on. bought records long before i had a record player. little machines are cute to me. ancient little relics from long ago i would unearth from thriftstores as a child. having to dig for it in piles. excavating. no money for new just things that were already way older than me when i got them used as a kid and now even more. but like i said theyre Cute theyre Sturdy theyre Dependable. and to character analysis mode myself its probably looking for stability and positive memory after losing most of my possessions or some gay shit. but the reality is i just like em :) the things i have currently all still work :) the section of a thrift store thats a wall of plastic baggies full of interesting remote varieties will never let me down

something fun is old games. not just cartridges or sweetest little console/old pc frisbee frisbeasts. the little machines are more fun to hear about. i have a good variety. for one i have such a deep fondness for old plug n play games and how the casings are so unique and goofy and colorful and chunky chunky. they have personality and good looks the whole package <3. something i rarely was gifted but adore. little animals on a leash to me with their wire <3 also non plug-in games. li still have a handheld lcd screen animal facts biology trivia game i loved that i cant seem to find online. so newtcoded of me. loved little educational machines and the purely games ones

and not just old ones ive got newer ones as long as theyre Some Interesting Cute Little Hardware. this posts going on wayyy too long but theres tons of throwback-style game stuff that i think is fun. like different flat darling little handheld animals to miniature version of arcade cabinets. i used to have a bunch of cheapo ancient fast food prizes people threw out. but, again, lost possessions. ill have to rebuild. but a neat newer one is a tetris game only sold in china mcdonalds thats in the shape of a Chicken Nugget. and Uh Yes the box looks like a food container. Yeah. cutest little beast i ever did saw. an angel sitting in the palm of my hands

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aew-kun-age-regression · 1 year ago

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You could do the alphabet game for Issac from teen wolf- pick what letters you’d like thank youuuu :)🩵

Hiiiiii!!!! I have had so much funs with this! i cant say im surprised tho i reallyyyyy loves Isaac an i think i could talk about him for hours!!!

ABC Agere Ask Game!!

Isaac Lahey

Age: I feel like his age range would be smaller than the others. If i was giving a specific age range id say anywhere between 2 - 5.

Baby: Nickname wise i think little one would be a big one (probably used most by Melissa and Chris) Little wolf/Baby wolf variations like that are used by the pack. Derek calls him rock star and little guy and Isaac absolulety lovesss it!! peter calls him, little trouble/little trouble maker.

Caregiver: Because Isaac regresses i think the youngest in the group i feel like everyone looks after him so he doesn't really have a set caregiver. However Derek is his primary Caregiver, and once he left Chris took Derek's place. (Not in a bad way!!) Deaton looks after him A LOTTTT and they have loads of fun with the doggies!!

Differences: Isaac is overall pretty confident whilst in a big head space (especially after the bite) but when he is regressed hes normally pretty quiet. If hes on the younger scale of his age range he babbles quite a bit to himself and sometimes to whoever hes with. If he is on the older scale of his age range then he gets quite nervous talking. (Although everyone always assures him they love hearing him speak!!)

Energy: He's a very hyper kiddo however he also runs out of energy quickly (despite being a werewolf and all lol) He often needs to take naps, he will fight nap time tho as he most definetly will state that he is not tired - he is.

Friends: Everyone loves Isaac when hes small (Even Stiles) As i've said when discussing Stiles's regression they are an unlikely pair and while big they struggle to get on but when they are small they are like two peas in a pod! They are definetly the bestest of friends. Followed by Scott. The three of them are always hanging out. Hes super close with Allison. (calls her Ally!!!) Peter and Isaac surprisingly get on, Derek didn't think they would and was worried that with Peters past if the two of them would clash, but nopeee the two of them are actually quite close!

Gear: I'm kinda just gonna list what he has and this might be hard to understand. So i do not believe he has anything from his childhood anymore other thank a small baby blanket that he managed to keep and hide from his father. He was given a box of fidget toys from Allison, Scott and Stiles (and by that i mean Allison took Scott and Stiles to go buy some) Stiles ended up gifting Isaac a few of his own fidget toys!!! Derek bought him a set of colourful sippy cups and a few baby bottles. Melissa bought him some pacifiers and chewalary/teethers. Deaton got him a few toys (things like some toy cars, dinasours, a few dolls because why not! idk why i just feel like he'd love them, little bits and bobs like that. and upon finding out that Isaac owned no stuffies peter took it upon himself to buy him a few (he now has a little blue and brown dog, a soft wolf plush and a pale pink teddy)

Home: Okay i'm going to try and be kinda vague on this one, no. home is not a safe place for his regression until he moved in with Derek and then home absolutely became a safe place ton regress!!

Involantary: His regression can be both volantary or involatary however it is normally not a volantary experience.

jingle: He listens to music box versions of songs and if he's with Stiles they will listen to disney together!

Kite: He prefers to play inside rather than outside however he does enjoy climbing trees and making dens!! He normally makes Chris help him with these (Chris knows the woods very well and can keep Isaac safe there!!)

Life: Simply put, yes his regression does interfere with his daily life however everyone tries their best to help him in the best way they can and accomodate to what he might need.

Monsters: Honestly i see Isaac as someone who while regressed is scared of quite a lot. (and understandably so with all the supernatural going on in Beacon Hills) I also think he is quite jumpy and gets very triggered and scared by loud noises (especially yelling/fighting)

Nostalgia: He wasn't able to keep anything from his childhood to help him regress other than a small baby blanket however i feel like certain tv shows he would have watched help him regress (this is definetly self indulgent because i love the show when small and i used to watch it but i feel like he would enjoy and could of watched The Trap Door!!!)

Object: I believe when it comes to a comfort item it would be an item of Derek's or Scott's clothing! Specifically like an oversized jumper/hoodie!!

Play: He plays but normally quietly and on his own. He prefers to play around other people playing but not necessary *with* them. He does however like playing dinasours with Stiles!! He also likes playing with the dogs at the shelter with Stiles and Scott.

Quizzical: No I honestly don't see Isaac as someone wonders off, i feel like that would make him too anxious. Hes very on guard due to his past so i feel like he wouldn't really get distracted.

Relationship: As i said in the Stiles agere game most of the pack are either regressors or caregivers so they are all very understanding and supportive.

Snacks: fruit and sweets. I honestly can't really explain why i think this it just made sense to me

World: The place he feels safest is Derek's or where ever his friends are.

Xxx: He shows his affection by making gifts. He is not the greatest as writing but i see him being really creative and artistic and he loves drawing, colouring and just overall making pictures and for things people.

Yuck: Overall i see him being quite embarressed about his regression esspecially if he regresses quite young or when noone else is. but as ive previously said the pack ect make sure he knows that it is okay and they look after him.

Zoo: He LOVESSS dogs. i will forever stand by that after the scene in the clinic!

#agere blog #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #sfw little post #little space #agere little #aewlittlerambles #sfw little community #aewlittleheadcannons #teen wolf agere #regressor!isaac lahey #little!isaac lahey

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neonfretra · 2 months ago

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HEYYYYY ^_^ rambling below the cut

@sevennone

"New Spanish-Language Website Highlights Latest LosVGK Initiatives" from vgk

The new site is accessible by clicking “EN” or “ES” or the globe icon on the top right corner of the English site. Vegas is the first NHL team to produce a version of its website in Spanish and the second to offer two languages (joining Montreal, which has English and French).

NO WAY???

i doubt yall want to see me recite the los vgks (vgks hispanic and latino inclusion initiative) accomplishments but if i ever cared about what yall wanna see i dont think we would be two reblogs deep here now would we

(you could see it for yourself on the article itself!)

because THEIR PODCAST HATES ME i can only find the episode i believe youre referencing (Knight Time at Noon, episode #97) on amazon music. it is also a 47 minute episode and im not transcribing that within a reasonable span of time.

...unless?

the answer is i actually dont usually do well with podcasts cause i accidentally start tunin them out and then i gotta rewind it over . i do this a couple times LMAO

(also my bones disagree with transcribin right now. this post does NOT need to be longer trust me.)

for the interested, the section concernin los vgk goes from bout 15:10-23:20!

brings a tear to the eye :') genuinely worth the read + listen!

@stereax

right off the bat i had no idea what hockey night in canada was until right now LMAO i am unfortunately a sharks blogger through and through i dont know anything about hockey outside of the san jose sharks

(for anyone in a similar boat, hockey night in canada is the cbcs nhl cast ^_^)

IN PUNJABI? YOU PROMISE?

i will make an active effort to be normal. but thats CRAZY <3

(hello, neonfretra in the future! i failed.)

its fairly unfortunate that its ALSO a post season exclusive service, punjabi speakers canNOT listen to nothing games ... !

(i do wonder WHY its such a common trend but my guess is just finals are when viewership spikes and thats when broadcasting companies benefit the most from multiple language streams. unfortunate!)

theres this segment from "Hockey Night in Canada, with Mr. Chapared Shot" by Harnarayan Singh that piques my interest actually! (warning: the article contains sikhophobia and islamophobia against a sikh person)

The most famous term on the show, hands down, is chapared shot. We don’t have a word for slap shot in our language, so we took the word that means a slap to the face and added on shot at the end. It’s been a HUGE hit. I’ll be out shopping or something, and I’ll hear, “Mr. Chapared Shot!” Or kids will come up to me and demand that I say it. There are others that I really enjoy, too, though. When we mention the penalty box, we use Punjabi words that equate to “the box of punishment.” And we’re always referencing chai tea. Like, if your team had a bad period … maybe they need a cup of chai tea during the intermission.

THIS IS CRAZY FOR ME ACTUALLY...

PUNJABI CAST IN JOKES AND MEMES... thats awesome... hello... sounds good sounds natural... <3

actually i cant stress enough how crazy it is to read when casters put cultural terms into casting to ME! its really fascinating to read, ESPECIALLY because the two broadcasts we have read in this post so far are about selling the sport to a new demographic of nonhockey fans

to me it does feel like a sort of bridging of the gap in that sense with their new fans by not just tossin them into the deep end with technical terms or literal translations

which is what makes something a good translation and adaptation while existing as a completely separate cast!

yeagh...

A lot of times, it’s spur of the moment, but I’m proud to say that the general style I use has its roots in Punjabi culture. If it’s a big enough goal, and if the name fits, I always try to let the last syllable go on as long as I can — at the very least, I try to beat out the goal horn. And that comes from Punjabi singers, who are known for trying to compete with each other to see who can hold a note the longest.

(note: emphasis my own)

AWESOME. NO NOTES. i have nothing of worth to add. i love the way cultural raisings imbue you with certain associations .

(again the full article is worth the read! it follows the personal journey of singh as a caster and the work put into getting hockey night in punjabi off the ground and on air)

i feel the need to stress that there ARE other leagues and that nhl isnt the only way to watch a game in preferred languages. but it would be incredibly nice to be able to watch an nhl game in punjabi or asl any time of the season the same way french and spanish are options (AND WITH LIMITATIONS AT THAT...!) (the french are region locked.)

however i will spare the side search of what other leagues out there are and what languages they broadcast in.

REALLY cool is that hockey night in canada actually has provided broadcasts in other languages as well: italian, inuktitut, cree, hindi, tagalog, mandarin, and cantonese

im lookin at wikipedia sorry yall LOL

they chose these based off the most popular languages in the city each canadian team is based in, which does raise the question of WHY THE HELL IS THERE SO MUCH PUSH BACK... its not even love thy neighbor its more just. can we start with thy neighbor EXISTS??? racism is stupid and more breaking news with neonfretra at 6.

also it was baffling to see fully serious, uncritically posted pro forcing assimilation views. hold your opinions, ill hold mine, my opinion is you people are a tar pit .

but to be a little bit embarassing, it is actually incredibly exciting to realize how much there has been on a larger scale level for quite a few languages <3 its not a secondary language, non white non english speaking communities DO exist and ARE worthy of acknowledgement and involvement <3 i WANT other people to watch my terrible no good team. EYE know that anyone, me or my friends or my enemies or the stranger i will see twice in my lifetime, have a place in somethin as indulgent to watch as sports without havin to assimilate to the english speaking demands of the times!

... but only for the playoffs

do you see the problem with me talkin about my personal feelings towards these sorta casts. nothin new to be said and anythin of interest ALREADY covered in these articles <3

@planesandtrainingwheels

oh howdy! :) unfortunately this years schedule hasnt seemed to be posted yet u.u but aptn has a designated hockey in cree page if you want to look out for it! i wouldnt hold my breath, last seasons schedule was posted in january

they also have a dictionary of key vocabulary which is always interestin! ^_^

not all phrases included have an english translation and im not goin to try to figure how to do it myself in live time, so ! make do ^_^

(but if you ever wanted to learn a new language you can always hit up the plains cree language resource website though! just dont make me do it over the span of one post)

Roughing – ē-wī-pāspinē-nōtinikēt (he is almost going to fight someone) (...) Slashing – ē-kakwē-wīsakatahiwāt (he is trying to hurt him) this one can be translated several ways but the intent of this is trying to impede another player with their stick by hitting them and hurting them Too many men – ē-osāmiyaticik (there are too many of them)

you know what this actually explained the difference between a roughing and fighting penalty to me LMAO

(also laughed at there are too many of them. THERE SURE ARE! its a really good penalty name in both languages)

i do like the more literal meaning these compared to the more abstracted concepts because let me be honest with you. its INCREDIBLY hard to summarize some of these rules (and even then . how the heck we goin to even simplify slashing here!) (he is trying to hurt him why not) (you could argue they are in fact tryin to hurt each other the way an axe tries to hurt a log)

all this talk does make realize WOW hockey rules have some pretty weird names huh (WHAT IS INTERFERENCE!!!)

another article that caught my eye personally was "Veteran broadcaster hopes Cree 'Hockey Night in Canada' can help save language" by Gemma Karstens-Smith

i really did mean gatherin interest and supportin language learners in my first post (im part of the problem of dying languages! HELP!!!) and to know that hockey night in cree shoots for the stars does make me. you know. want to just carry that same hope! ^_^

The 60-year-old broadcaster from Canoe Lake Cree Nation in northern Saskatchewan is set bring the sport he loves to his community in a whole new way next month with the debut of "Hockey Night in Canada in Cree." "It means a lot. We're losing our languages across Canada," said Iron, who'll do play-by-play in Plains Cree for the six national NHL broadcasts. "We're trying to save the Cree language. And it'll help. Even to call a hockey game in Cree, it's a big thing."

one of the major things about castin in all these different languages is the connection ^_^ watchin sports is honest to god one of the biggest social experiences ive had and its an easy conversation facilitator.

ive observed a LOT of readings of peoples personal gaining from these casts being that they created connections with their peers that they felt a cultural gap with, having a similar grounds for a love of sports, and their family members they felt a generational gap with, learning the language of their family or having a way to include their non english speaking relatives in the conversation.

and from a completely unrelated angle, how many friends do you got tryin to learn japanese or korean because of the things they watch or read or listen to! my friend found music and television to be a massive help in her own journey to learn a language!

bringing your own culture and language to a massively popular platform like the nhl is HUGE to sharing and keeping it alive

crack open a broadcast in a different language! toss yourself into that show whose tropes you think are weird! its fun, trust me :)

also unrelated, their tag line? of sorts is "kitāskwēw, pihtikwahēw" means "he shoots, he scores" like baby i wish my team knew how to do that

GOD I NEED TO CUT MYSELF OFF. we are NO LONGER going back to elaborate. we are NOT adding any more.

thank you yall for real though! would not have known bout ANY of this otherwise <3

and POST!!!

maybe nhl in asl has given me a taste of the epic highs and now i am too spoiled . whats stopping us from doing this all the time ... whats stopping us from casting games in whatever popular languages in the area of a teams are ... maybe spanish speakers want to watch nothing games as well as the stanley cup final what then ... have you never wondered what kind of translations of your favorite players names there are out there ... heres how we can force people to actually learn those two or three or four languages theyve always wanted to pick up ... gather interest in learning less well known languages ... ill go first and then get dragged for exclusively sayin nothing related to the game LMAO

#neon etcetra #reboggle tag #my bodys explodin ^_^ chose a hell of a time to get into long form writing #SUFFERING for my art #<- the suffering is taking breaks until my hands feel normal #AND THEN MY ANKLES FEEL ABNORMAL #LMAO my complex inner life #YALL ENABLE ME TO YAP!!! SO MUCH!!!#HI :3

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