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47pictures · 3 years ago

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“All-Star”

Link to original r/nosleep post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/mv9j9a/for_my_blog_i_toured_a_movie_studio_to_find_the/

________________________________________________________________

I finally made it to Hollywood… at least, I suppose that’s what I’d say if I were trying to make it big. That wasn’t exactly the case, though. On the contrary, my old hometown friend was the one who I’d say ‘made it big,' and she was the only reason I managed to get there. No way in hell I could just stroll through these Hollywood gates without some sort of reputation associated with my name.

I’m currently pursuing a degree in journalism, and right now I’ve got a pretty successful status as a blogger, and hopefully podcaster in the near future. My topics typically cover things involving entertainment, specifically movies, television, some celebrity gossip here-and-there, the ins and outs of the film and occasionally music industry, nerd topics about comic books or comic book movies, and I could go on. Essentially, all the things you’d expect from an entertainment blogger.

I don’t have a secret or special tip for how I grew a mass following. It just sort of happened. I did it since I was in high school - sophomore year, to be exact, and it started mainly as a hobby. Most people are surprised to hear that I was such a good writer and articulate for my age when they look back on the articles I’d put up during that time, speaking on topics such as the ‘downfall of blockbuster films,’ and the ‘toxicity of media's body standards on the youth.’ Truthfully, I didn’t know all of what I was saying half the time. Writing was sort of just my natural gift that I honed to where I could essentially bullshit anything well enough to make a great story. However, being ethical always remained my moral code.

The topic I was covering now involved my own personal ‘investigation’ of a famous movie studio known as Gemini Films. They’ve put out several flicks now that have garnered what most would consider moderate success (they're no Warner Bros. or Paramount, that's for sure). They deal mostly in the thriller/horror genre, sort of like Blumhouse. I’m a bit more in the sci-fi, comedy realm when it comes to my tastes, but really, I’m a bit of a pussy when it comes to scary stuff.

So why am I 'investigating' them? Well, as it turns out, it's their amazing use of special effects. Yep, that’s it. Special effects, that thing we fell for as children we called ‘movie magic,' and growing up learned that some of it were all the crafty work of well-put CGI. Though that’s usually the case, this time, something about Gemini Films seemed different. They’ve always been praised for their ‘hyperrealistic’ visual effects and pulling off stunts that would otherwise seem impossible. I was watching one of their action/horror films titled Last Thorn, and in a particular scene, a character’s on-screen death is, well, very lightly put, gruesome. I’ve seen my share of on-screen gore and played plenty of Mortal Kombat growing up, but I gotta say, I found the scene hard to watch. To clarify, it involved a character literally exploding before the camera, and from the way it was shot and the lack of cuts and edits typically required to create the illusion of a scene, it seemed quite real. A little too real…

They’ve done other things aside from their special effects department that some people on internet discussion forums found a bit too impressive. Take the actors, for instance. In their dramatic scenes, especially the horror flicks, I’m almost always convinced that the actors are actually going to die on screen. I’m surprised all of them haven’t been given Oscars yet, ‘cause goddamn, you’d think the director was holding them at gunpoint. We all saw just how amazing the acting was in films like Hereditary and The Babadook were, but I gotta say, after watching these films, they make those two look like child’s play (no pun intended to the Chucky series). I was so impressed with the actors that I had to look them up and see what other work they’d done, but from what I did find, their resumes didn’t seem that much greater than the work they’d done for GF. It was almost as if that was the peak of their careers unless they decided to further their contracts to star in any more of their movies. Anything else they did pale in comparison that showcased their acting chops.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jamie Douglas.

It had somewhat of household name potential, I thought. She was the next rising star. She’d just won a Golden Globe for her leading role in a TV series I’m sure no one had high hopes for in the beginning, and her name was now attached to an Academy Award-winning film for Best Original Screenplay, all at the age of 22. Her acting was stellar, always had been even growing up back in high school when we did theater together. I was never for the acting side of things; I always preferred the technical realm and behind-the-scenes work. She, however, had the ‘it’ factor. I never once doubted that she’d be famous. It was destined for her.

The taxi driver dropped me off in front of a luxurious one-story home in the Beverly Hills neighborhood, surrounded by other similar houses with a property value larger than what I’d probably make in my lifetime if I was being honest. From the outside, her home reminded me of that gilded, golden age of Hollywood back in the 60s, with a slanted roof and art deco-styled exaggerated features. It was nice and simple. But that’s how Jamie was. Nice and simple.

I could see her peeking through the curtains of her window before she came running out the door to meet me in the front yard. That big beautiful smile and those joyous eyes came rushing at me with open arms.

“Christian!” she screamed my name with excitement, as she gave me a big, suffocating hug.

I hugged her back with my free arm, as my other one was still carrying my trolley bag and she had that one pinned in her grip.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I made it to Hollywood, right?” I dryly humored.

Jamie giggled as she began to pull back from her hug and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“Yes we did,” she said with a big smile, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. “We sure did.”

She led me inside the house and gave me a tour. Compared to the outside, the inside was the complete opposite in regards to the decorative era. Whereas the exterior was ‘groovy’, the inside was a bit more with the times. Wide-open spaces, tan or beige-colored furniture and walls, a wide sliding door for the backyard where you can see the pool. Jamie recently moved into the house, so I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of things to fill it up with just yet.

“Someone said Bette Davis used to live in this house, which I knew was bullshit, otherwise the value on this home woulda been way outta my league,” Jamie commented.

I chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re well on your way, trust me,” I reassured.

I was going to be staying with her for a week while I did my journaling/blogging. We did tons of catching up. She gave me all the inside scoop of what goes on in Hollywood - or ‘Hollyweird’ as I liked to call it - and even some of her other famous neighbors you might recognize living double lives on the down-low. She said she’d been to a couple of big mansion parties as well, where you’ll see all sorts of celebs from different categories of entertainment. Actors, athletes, musicians, models, influencers, you name it. But Jamie insists that she doesn’t attend those very often, if hardly at all. She prefers to be a homebody when she’s not seeking work through her agent, and her extraversion mostly comes to play when it involves networking.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The rest of the night we stayed up watching TV and YouTube videos. One that fascinated both of us was a video explaining how scientists managed to find a way to make a perfectly cooked steak from a cow, but without actually harming or slaughtering it. Instead, they extracted a small sample of the cow’s cells and took it to a lab where the cells would essentially grow into muscle for it to be cooked later.

“I’d consider that over going vegan,” Jamie said.

But I grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right,” I remarked.

"What, are you vegan?"

"No, not that. Just the thought of cloning animals, ya know?"

“I mean, it’s not like they’re killing the cow or anything. They said it’s perfectly unharmed.”

“I know, but still…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning was day one for me. Jamie had the right connections to get me an on-set tour of the studio lots associated with Gemini Films. I was greeted and led by the third assistant director (or AD as they’re commonly referred to).

“Hi, I’m Tiffany, nice to meet you,” she said, with a rather forced smile and handshake.

She carried a clipboard in her other arm, as well as a hand-held radio clipped to the pocket of her jeans, and I saw that she also had an earpiece nestled in her right ear. I could tell she was about her business and probably didn’t have time to be overly nice or talk too much.

I got a sneak peek of their most current production under the production title *"*Cold Silence", which required me to sign an NDA beforehand, of course. That wasn't actually their final name for the movie, but it's a common thing for them to do when shooting a film when either they haven't decided on a name yet or to keep the nature of the project a secret. It sort of took me back to my theater tech days with all the set designs and props lying around, except these were much more detailed and intricate thanks to their higher budget than what my high school had at the time. Here, there was limitless potential. Tiffany also introduced me to the other ADs, PAs, boom operators, cameramen, make-up artists, and then last but certainly not least, the director.

“Jeffrey?” Tiffany called to the man sitting in the director’s chair. The man turned to face her and then me. “This is Christian Watkins. He’s the man we’re giving a behind-the-scenes scoop for his… blog?” She looked to me for confirmation, to which I nodded. “Yeah, for his blog.”

The man in the big chair stood up with a cool smile and classy charm and extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, nice to meet you,” the man spoke in a tenor pitch. “Jeffrey Bachmann,” he introduced himself.

I didn’t take too much time last night trying to read up on his bio, but from what I could tell at first glance I knew that he was about in his mid to late fifties, as his hair was greying and skin was starting to wrinkle, and I could see that he had a surprisingly calm and laid-back demeanor. Surprising to me, at least. I always thought directing was a high-paced, chaotic mess that never ceased to present a myriad of complications onset that’d make any man want to pull their hair out. But Jeffrey seemed calm, collected, and very personable.

“Hi, thank you for having me,” I replied. “Seriously, this is like a really cool opportunity for me and my blog.”

“Hey man, it’s my pleasure,” Jeffrey said. “I heard you got a big following behind your name. Props to you. I respect the work ethic, especially giving your readers what they really want to see, ya know?”

I shrugged modestly. “Well thank you, but this time was mostly in my own interest to seek out this idea for my current blog,” I said.

“Ah, an interest in GF, huh?” Jeffrey replied. “Well, what would you like to know? We’ve got nothing but time today. In fact, we’re just getting ready to shoot the mangle scene for today and then we’ll wrap it up before we review the dailies.”

“Mangle scene?”

“Oh yeah, if you’ve got a weak stomach or aren’t into gore you don’t have to watch.”

At least he gave me discretion. “Hmm, I think I’ll tough this one out,” I said. “For the blog.”

Jeffrey gave me a sincere but slightly unsettling grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

He was a nice guy so far, but you know how you just meet certain people that for whatever reason, out of their control, their aura seems off? Maybe it was my preconceived notion and warranted cynicism I had of people working in Hollywood. Just a bunch of sharks in a pool with hungry eyes for desperate young talents eager to take a dive in the spotlight. But as I’d imagine with any field, there had to be a decent share of lambs among the many wolves.

Suddenly, one of the makeup artists scampered over to us, their attention directly at Jeffrey.

“Hey,” they said to him with a noticeably fake inflection.

“Hey, what's up?” Jeffrey returned.

“Savannah? She’s losing it back there. Said she wants to talk to you and only you.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, as he patted his hand on the MUAs shoulder. He then gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Christian, duty calls, but hey, Tiffany?” he looked to the stern AD. “Make sure he gets a front-row view for the martini shot.”

“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied.

Jeffrey and the MUA stepped off to handle whatever business needed handling regarding one of the actresses backstage in the dressing room.

“Martini shot?” I asked.

“Last shot for the day,” Tiffany explained. “For me, that’s a term I like to take literally.”

She seemed so serious all this time that I found the joke almost funny.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

There was now quiet on the set. Shooting was about to start shortly. At this point in the movie, the main character has a stand-off that turns into a big fight scene with the main bad guy at a warehouse factory building. At first, there’s a gunfight, then eventually they both run out of ammo and it comes down to a fistfight before finally having a standstill on top of a rail just over a giant industrial shredder.

Right now, the actor playing the bad guy, Will, is hanging on for his life over the rail above the shredder, while Thomas, the main good guy, is standing over him victoriously. My question was, is the shredder real? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like it. It wasn’t turned on yet, but just from a glance it seemed legit enough that if I dropped something as sturdy as a microwave in there, it’d come out jelly on the other end.

For the blog, I told myself. For the blog…

Suddenly, my suspicions were confirmed once Jeffrey called to have the shredder turned on. The machine roared to life, the inverting sharp metal gears rotating past each other being a black hole eating everything that passes through it with no escape. Holy shit. It was actually fucking real.

Jeffrey gave the nod to the 1st AD, and the AD returned the same.

“Action!” the AD called.

Based on what Jeffrey showed me from the script, Thomas is supposed to stomp on Will’s hand that’s gripping onto the edge of the rail, causing him to fall to his death into the shredder. The camera was now rolling, yet, I didn’t see Thomas do the deed. Was he pausing for dramatic effect? Was he acting for the camera? I wasn’t quite sure why he was hesitating.

I peaked over to notice that Jeffrey, the once calm and collected man I met backstage earlier, was now beginning to seem noticeably impatient and about to snap at any moment. There was now that dark edge I noticed about him from before but couldn’t quite put a finger on that I could see now coming to light.

Hesitation filled Thomas’ veins, about to raise his foot, then not, dragging on the scene longer than intended. From this distance, I tried to see Will’s own expression, and I regret ever doing so. Surely he was acting, but I’ll be damned, it was too good. Whatever fear he portrayed transmuted itself into me now. It was the kind of fear that I didn’t think could be replicated on command. Jeffrey stood up from his seat, but just before he could say anything or call ‘cut’, Thomas stomped his foot down on Will’s hand, and we all watched as his fingers slip from the railing. Will sent out a bloodcurdling scream as he plummeted to his ‘death’. What followed will haunt me forever.

Do you know what it sounds like to have a person’s body mangled to death? Have you bitten into the bone of any sort of meat? Heard and felt the crunch? Or maybe even the crunch of celery? I myself have never broken a single bone in my body, but imagining what it might sound like other than what I’d heard in movies or video games all seemed elementary now. At first, I had to look away, but what forced me out of my seat to leave was Will’s horrifying screams. He’d fallen feet first into the shredder, so his lower body had to suffer first before reaching his upper body and finally silencing him at the head.

I ran to find the nearest trashcan and hurled. I guess I really didn’t have the stomach for gore, at least, not to this degree. Will’s screams kept looping in my head. It was a new primal sound that evoked a dread within me that I wish I never discovered. The sound of torment. One thing was for sure, Will was one fucking hell of an actor - if this was acting. But the shredder…

It seemed so real. And there was no greenscreen besides the ones to be used for the background later in post-production. I saw him fall right into the damn thing. With my own eyes. In living color. There were no edits, no crazy tricks, no lighting effects. There couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was sitting down trying to recuperate, as everyone else around me was wrapping up set for the day. Tiffany came over and handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“You feelin’ better?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I answered with a scoff, raising both my eyebrows and taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m surprised you stuck around if you had such a weak stomach. I mean, he at least warned you.”

“I usually don’t. But that?” I shook my head. “How do you guys do it? It looked so real.”

“I’m just pulling your leg. I almost vomited too my first time. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

If it was a shame to flinch at something so vile, I don’t wanna know what goes on in Jeffrey’s mind to even come up with such a scene. Speaking of which, I still didn’t get a one-on-one interview with him as I’d hoped. All I had was the end result of his ‘movie magic’, but not how he did it. At this point, I'm not sure I really wanna know.

I went to go get my belongings, which were left in one of the dressing rooms, and was stopped by the sound sniffling from the one a couple doors ahead of mine. I looked on the door to read whose room it belonged to. It read: SAVANNAH YOUNG. She was one of the lead actresses in the movie, or rather I should say the only actress in the whole film. With the makeup artist and Jeffrey thing that happened earlier, it was evident to me that something sour had gone on behind the scenes I didn’t know about.

The door was cracked open and I couldn’t see her face entirely from my view, but I knew she was sobbing. She looked to be sitting in front of her mirror. I was about to just ignore it and go on about my business.

I lightly knocked on the door. “You okay in there?” I asked.

She stopped and I could hear her get up and approach the door. She pulled it back just enough to where I could see her whole face. She was beautiful, just like Jamie, even if she had been crying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

There was a brief awkward moment of silence between us. Clearly, she wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wish to pry any further than that.

“Are you one of the new PAs?” she asked. I arched a brow. “Production assistant?” she clarified.

“Oh, no, I’m just a visitor,” I assured. “Writing for my blog. I was supposed to be writing about behind-the-scenes things and how it all works around here, but I bitched out from the ‘mangling scene’.”

Savannah gave a short nod. “I see,” she said. “Well… I don’t blame you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or just from the state that I was in, but her words gave me chills.

“I should get going,” I told her. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she replied, and then shut the door.

I got my stuff from the dressing room and got ready to head out. I wonder what could’ve made Savannah so down to where the director had to get involved and set her straight. Jeffrey seemed pleasant to work with at first glance, but who knows, maybe he had a mean streak to him after all, especially the way he looked during the shooting of the scene. God, I just wanted to forget about it. I can’t unhear the sounds. The bones crunching, the blood splattering, and the screaming. The fucking screaming…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I was leaving the studio lot, I noticed the cleaning crew of two men dump a large amount of black bags in the dumpster. From the way they swung the bags over into the bin, the shit didn’t seem light. The bags were in several different sizes, some small, some big, some disproportionate. I stood there and watched as the two men finished disposing of the junk and walked away to go about their other duties.

Regular, common sense me would’ve just picked up the phone, called Jamie to let her know I’m ready to get picked up, and go about my day. But the nosy blogger me kept itching…

I made sure the coast was clear and made my way over to the bin. I can’t believe I was actually dumpster diving, and for what? What did I really expect to find? In my head, I knew the answer, but was avoiding it, either out of how ridiculous it may sound or, God forbid, I was right.

The trash wasn’t stacked high enough from the bottom for me to simply reach, so I had to literally get in there myself. I climbed over on the other end, raised the lid, and jumped down on the piles of plastic bags, holding the lid up with my arm and my breath so I didn’t get a huge whiff of the smell. Though, if I did need to puke again, I supposed this would be the place to do it.

I immediately noticed the bags the men threw away, but in order for me to check what was inside, I’d have to crouch down and let the lid close on me. Fine. That’s what the flashlight on my phone was for. Surrounded in darkness and garbage now, I turned the flash on, illuminating the four dirty walls around me and I pulled back one of the bags. I felt around to try and see what sort of contents might be inside. Mush. It felt all mushy with chunks of solid and a little bit of liquid.

This was stupid, I thought. I realized how stupid I probably looked right then and there, sitting in a bin full of filth looking for clues like some sort of private detective. My followers have no idea how far I’d go, but this was ridiculous. Oh well, I’m too deep in it now, no pun intended.

I held my phone in my mouth as I used my hands to rip open the plastic. My heart began pounding as I slowly pried the bag open. Once I got a peek inside, shame and embarrassment came over me.

Food.

I should’ve just called Jamie to come get me. Had I really become that desperate? I threw the bag over and out of my way. Then I noticed the bag underneath had trickles of fluid. Curious, I shined the light down on it. They were red trickles. Considering how I’d just overreacted only to find a bag full of thrown out lunch, I wasn’t about to get all up in arms about finding red drops behind a Hollywood studio lot. I didn’t know the full recipe for fake blood, but if I recall correctly, Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate when they filmed the shower scene from Psycho.

I tried to follow the small trail and see if it led to another bag. I slowly pointed the light further up and it led me to the bag just behind the one I tossed to the side. Looks like it had a small bust that caused it to leak. When I pulled this one over, a very noticeable smell filled my nostrils and erased any other scent of the trash that surrounded me. It was a metallic, rusty sort of odor, like copper from a penny. However, that smell also belonged to something else…

I ripped open the bag, and with the shine of my light beaming down, I was welcomed to a bright crimson sight of mashed blood and guts. It had to be fake, I thought. It had to… but the way I recoiled from the putrid metallic fresh scent of carnage, my primal instincts told me that wasn’t the case. I innately knew that it was real. I was staring at Will’s mangled body.

Frozen from fear, I sat there for who-knows-how-long. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d call the cops first, of course, but they would need evidence, and even then they’d probably dismiss me after I told them I dove into the dumpster of a movie set where fake blood is a common prop. I’d tell Jamie the same, but she’d look at me crazy, too.

I unlocked my phone and started snapping pictures. As much as I could. I even opened some other bags and did the same. I tried to snap every bit of remains that was left of Will and saved them into my phone. It felt like a sick test to see how long I could hold my breath so I wouldn’t gag, and I think I broke a new record that day.

I snapped probably about 47 pictures on my phone before I finally shot up and threw open the bin. The wave of fresh air hit me like a truck, and enjoyed it for only a brief second before turning to see Jeffrey, Tiffany, and the other AD standing by his side. My soul left my body right then and there.

“Christian?” Jeffrey said, sounding concerned.

Fucking say something, I told myself. I did my best not to stutter and look stupid.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said, raising the inflection of my voice, probably sounding dumb.

“Going for a swim there?” Jeffrey joked.

I fake laughed, then put on my best acting skills. “I cannot for the life of me find my ring.”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my mom’s ring?”

Then, with the slick subtle motion, I hid my hands to where they couldn’t see them behind the walls of the bin, and with careful coordination used my fingers on my right hand to pull the ring I already had on and flicked it down onto the trash below. I shuffled my feet over the bags I stood on to make noise so they wouldn’t hear the ring drop. Please God, don’t let the ring hit the hard bottom floor or one of the rusty walls, I thought. To my relief, it didn’t.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Christian, I haven’t seen it,” Jeffrey said, as he looked at the other two as they also shook their heads. “But we can definitely look around again and let you know if we find anything.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying not to make my voice tremble with anxiety.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get you outta there,” Jeffrey said, waving his hand over.

I nodded and shot a quick timid smile. I climbed out of the bin and faced the three before me, wiping myself down.

“Hands a little messy there,” Jeffrey said.

Anxiety raced through me again, but adrenaline had my back to make sure I didn’t fuck up by saying anything dumb.

“Oh, the fake blood?” I chortled. “Yeah, you guys lots of that shit in there. Smells like a chocolate factory.”

Jeffrey fell for it, and laughed. Good. But he could just as easily be playing me right now.

“Given how you ran off earlier back there I’m surprised you can stand to look at it, better yet, touch it,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry about that,” I stammered but stayed on track. “It’s just… I now see for myself, no one does it like GF.”

“Haha, you don’t have to flatter me to get back my respect. Don’t sweat it. I totally understand.”

Is that so? I thought.

“You could use that martini shot right about now, huh?” Tiffany joked.

Definitely not with her any time soon. Or any of them, for that matter.

“Well we’re just heading out for the day, you got a ride?” said Jeffrey.

“Yeah, I should probably call Jamie now and let her know I’m done,” I replied.

“It’s no problem, man, I can give you a lift. I can drop you off wherever you need me to.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Seriously, I insist-”

“Jamie and I got a spa appointment to catch in a bit. Otherwise I appreciate the offer.”

Jeffrey had a brief look in his eyes, a glint of what I could only compare to a wolf’s gaze hiding behind that sheep’s clothing he carried himself around as, and then smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Christian,” he said. “Once again, nice to meet you and I hoped you enjoyed the tour, and hopefully make some good content for your blog.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Thank you so much again. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing, Chris,” Jeffrey said, throwing me off a bit. “Can I call you, Chris?’

I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I called you Jeff by accident,” I said.

“It’s fine. Chris and Jeff it is.”

I needed to get away from here. Now and as fast as possible. But I still needed to do one more thing.

“Any chance I can wash these off inside?” I said, raising my bloodied hands.

“Oh of course,” Jeff said.

“I can lead him back,” Tiffany said, ready to go with, but Jeffrey stopped her.

“Ah, he knows his way in, right?” Jeff looked to me for reassurance.

“Yeah,” I answered confidently.

“Good, well hopefully I’ll see you around, Chris, and you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, Jeff. And you all do the same.”

As I walked past them and towards the studio lot, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being set up. Why hadn’t he let Tiffany escort me back inside? I’d think that would be customary for them to do for visitors entering and exiting the building. But I felt that they were watching me from behind, and with every step, I grew more and more anxious.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’d made it inside and the lot was now nearly empty and quieter. I didn’t see a single person in sight, and only a few lights remained on, making it mostly dark. I hurried the fuck up and did what I came to do, as I didn’t wanna be here any longer and didn’t feel safe.

Down the hall where the dressing rooms were, I rushed over to Savannah’s door, and saw that it was closed. I tried opening it only to see it was locked. Looking down, there was no light shining through the cracks either, meaning there was no one inside. She wasn’t there. Shit.

I washed my hands in the bathroom, scrubbing the dried blood off as thoroughly as possible, getting under nails and all, cringing at the thought of it being Will’s. Suddenly, I heard a noise from outside the hall leading to the bathroom. Petrified, my heart sank into my chest, and I froze. I shut the water off, and carefully approached the door. I listened for any other sounds as I placed my ear closer. After a few moments, I heard the noise again, but then realized that it seemed to be coming from one of the dressing rooms just outside in the hall.

Since I carry a notebook around most of the time for jotting down notes, I certainly always carry a pen. What most people don’t know is that I carry a military tactical pen for a variety of uses, and in times like these, it can be used as a subtle but effective weapon. I switched the tip from an ink ball to a small slick blade.

I opened the bathroom door and crept through the hall over to the dressing room door that made the noise, holding the pen underneath the breast pocket of my sweater. On the outside of the door, it read, “WILL BANKS.”

Confused, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Common sense me once again kept barking in my brain telling me to GTFO, but I had to be sure. I gave three shy knocks and waited. There was definitely someone in there because whatever noise I thought I heard from behind came to an utter halt. I could hear faint whispers of someone’s voice, and then another. There was more than one. My hand trembled as it tightly gripped the pen underneath with sweat as I heard whoever it was on the other end of the door approach.

It swung open, and there stood Will Banks, the man whose blood was just on my hands moments ago, alive and well, in the flesh. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself.

“Can I help you?” he said.

I just stood there, baffled, without answering. Behind him, I saw Savannah, who instantly recognized me and came over.

“Hi,” she said. “I thought everyone left.” She looked to Will. “He was visiting the set today for his vlog, or I’m sorry, blog.”

Will nodded, understanding now. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t get to meet you. Will Banks,” he said, pointing at his name on the door. “As you can see.” Savannah chuckled, and Will extended his hand for me to shake.

“Christian, or Chris,” I said, releasing the pen from inside my sweater and reaching my own hand out to take his. "Whichever you please."

He had a firm shake, and it felt uncanny considering what I’d just witnessed. I was touching him, feeling his skin and bone underneath, the warmth of his body temperature through the flesh. He was real. He was alive and breathing. That couldn’t be faked. That couldn’t be a visual effect. This was real. After we let go, suddenly my hand went cold. Everything about this seemed off and downright strange.

“Did you stick around for the shoot?” Will asked.

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, what’d you think?”

I wanted to say so many things right then and there, he had no idea.

“Um... y’all are some damn good actors,” I said.

Will laughed a bit, accepting my sham form of flattery, but Savannah, not so much. She gave one of those forced gestures as to not make it feel awkward, though, I noticed it right away.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“I would give you some artistic bullshit answer like ‘study your craft’ or ‘years of training,' things like that, but honestly… it just kinda clicks, ya know?”

I fake chuckled. “No, I don’t. It looked kinda real from my end. Too real, I might add. Care to go into detail how you guys pulled it off?”

“Well, uh-”

Savannah interrupted. “Wait, you know what Jeffrey would say,” she whispered to him.

“I know, but it’s for his blog,” Will argued.

“But still.”

“I mean, Jeffrey’s not here, right?” I chimed in.

They both looked at me, then at each other. There seemed to be some sort of nonverbal understanding between them, and Will looked back at me.

“All right, for the sake of your blog, I’ll give you what I can to the best of my wording, that sound good?” Will proposed.

I took the pen back out from inside, switching it to the ink ball with a short click, and whipped out my small notebook. “Hit me,” I said.

“Get ready for this one. Basically, we’ve been using a new thing in the biz lately sort of like mocap but it’s not exactly. It’s also kinda like hologram sort of tech?”

“Really?” I said, eyes widened with interest as I wrote words down.

“Yep. That’s how we did it. What you saw, was as real as the hologram thingamajig allowed you to.”

“Hmm.”

“The shredder, too.”

“What?”

“The shredder. That was a hologram also.”

“Really? Okay…”

I finished writing on my notepad then turned it so that Will could read it.

BITE ME, I wrote with a big circle around it.

He laughed. Savannah did, too, but, again, in a strange nervous and restrained demeanor.

“That’s a nice story,” I said. “So if you’re ready to quit bullshitting with me, and tell the truth, I’m ready,” I spoke in a playful yet no-nonsense tone. “How’d you do it?”

“You’re good, man,” Will said with a smile, pointing his finger at me. “Like a true journalist.”

Any other day I’d be pleased to hear that, but I was serious. I needed to know, so much that I’d forgotten how long I’d actually been here. I told myself I was gonna leave as soon as I could, but now, for some reason after talking with Will and seeing how personable and genuine he came off, he put me a bit at ease. Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. But then the screams echoed in my head again, and the smell...

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” I said.

“Look, I wish I could, honestly, but if I did, Jeffrey may not be too happy with either of us,” Will responded sincerely. That much was true, I could tell.

“All right, I think I tortured you enough,” I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words.

“No worries, man. Nice meetin’ ya. Good luck with the blog.”

“Thanks.”

I looked at Savannah one last time, and she looked back with a serious and almost scary gaze as though she needed to tell me something very bad. That’s who I came back for anyways. But that opportunity was a lost cause now, as I left with nothing and still no understanding of how Gemini Films did their visual effects? And I lost my mother’s ring. Fuck, I didn’t have time to go get it right now. I didn’t wanna risk being seen again. Hopefully, Jeffrey keeps his word and they somehow manage to give it back. That being said, I'd be fine with not having to see him ever again.

Whose blood was that? Whose body was that in the dumpster? Was it real? Was it actually just that well made to where the average person could be fooled into thinking it was actual flesh? Who’d go through the trouble of all that?

The screams of losing your life inch by inch, the sounds that would haunt me forever. And the smell of what was inside that bag. That instinctual gut feeling… how was it not real?

#writing #story #horror #nosleep #horror stories

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thirst-trapnhl · 5 years ago

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Never Grew Out of This Feeling 3(charlie mcavoy)

(A/N): hey guys! i say this all the time but sorry for how long this took lol. hope you guys enjoy (if anyone actually still cares ab this series??) and i hope it was at least 25% worth the wait! also unedited because I’m actually DYING to get this up lol (word count: 1936) (warnings: underage drinking, cursing)

song of the chapter: hold my hand - new found glory

“you like you’re ready to go, so hold my hand. I’ll take you everywhere, anywhere, you wanna go.”

Charlie arrives at your front door at exactly 6:00 PM on New Years Eve with Chinese takeout in hand and your dad clears the coffee table in the living room so he can spread all the containers out. Your parents settle into their seats on the couch and you and Charlie take the floor, plates piled high. You all turn your attention to the TV as your dad presses play on The Princess Bride, your traditional New Years movie. Charlie and your dad both laugh at all the same parts they always do, and your mother ends up crying at the same part she always does. You clear the table as the credits roll and head upstairs to get ready for your night out, belly full and heart happy. 9:30 rolls around and Charlie’s migrated to the big chair in the corner, messing around on his phone when you finally walk down the stairs. “Thank god, I’ve only been waiting for an ho- “ he stops short when he finally looks up from the screen. “Holy shit!” He’s on his feet in an instant, eyes glued to your body. You warm at his appreciation for your efforts and give a little shimmy and his eyes light up at the way the sequins on your top shine.

“Whatcha think, Chuck? Good enough to ring in the new year?�� You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he laughs before shooting a soft smile at you, the one that’s always made you feel like he’s the only person who really sees you.

“I’d take you anywhere lookin’ like that!” He reaches his hand out to you and twirls you around once just to see you laugh before grabbing his keys from the table and ordering the Uber. You call out your goodbyes to your parents, in their room getting ready for bed and shrug on a jacket. You follow him out the front door, hands reaching for his sleeve.

He feels you tangle your fingers in the fabric to shield them from the cold and looks back over his shoulder at you. You meet his eyes and his whole face crinkles as he hides a smile behind his collar, just the way it always has. You huff out a breath and furrow your brow up at him.

“What’re you smiling about, Alvin?” It’s his turn to pout and yours to laugh, loving the way you can always get a rise out of him by poking fun at his chubby cheeks. His pout quickly turns back into a smile, smaller and softer this time, at the sound of your giggle. The ride to the party is relatively uneventful. It’s easy to zone out staring out the window as Charlie makes casual conversation with the driver. Before you know it, a hand comes to grip your knee through your jeans, Charlie giving your leg a squeeze to bring you back to earth.

“You ready?” He asks and when you nod, he bids the driver good night and comes around your side of the car to help you out. You make your way into one of Charlie’s teammates’ house, and quickly find your way to the cooler. You grab a beer for each of you before snaking your way through the bodies back to Charlie’s side. He beams and wraps an arm around your shoulder before continuing his conversation with the rest of your friends. You settle in easily after that, jumping into the conversation when it turns to the show you’re all currently binging watching. It's no surprise when the party turns into a full-fledged beer pong tournament, complete with a bracket written sloppily on the back of a junk mail flyer. You and Charlie slot into the fifth matchup against the goalies and Charlie spends the first four trying to hype you up.

“Chuck, I really don’t understand why you insist on having me as your partner. You have to carry me every single time!” You’re a little exasperated at his undying positivity towards your beer pong skills. He’s had more to drink than you, as he usually does, but you both know he’ll end up making all his shots while yours bounce off rims. He smiles down easy at you and a piece of hair flops down over his forehead, a little damp with sweat. You hear a cheer behind you and you know the game ended and it's time to face the music.

“I don’t mind doing all the work, you know that. All you gotta do is stand there and look pretty to distract our opponents. You know the goalies both have a thing for you.” He wiggles his eyebrows, barely holding back a laugh as he drags you towards the table and you work together to reset the rack.

Despite your best efforts to swing your hips and bat your eyes, the goalie tandem take you and Charlie down swiftly. You make your way back to the kitchen to dig around for more beer and when you turn back around, Charlie’s leaned up against the counter, looking at you. “Sorry I couldn’t help out more, bud.” He opens his arms to you and you cross the small kitchen to him, putting your unopened bottles behind him before wrapping your arms around his torso. You can feel the rumble of his chest as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t understand how you can still be SO bad after all this time.” You look up at him in surprise and he’s trying to hide a shit-eating grin, clearly satisfied with your response. You give him a light smack on the arm before sticking your tongue out at him, making him laugh. You grab your corona off the counter and bang it against the edge, popping the cap off. Charlie looks at you, impressed before taking this and doing the same, but with his teeth. He spits the cap into his hand as he laughs at your shriek of disgust. You smack him again, this firmer and on the chest.

“Don’t fucking do that, you yutz! It skeeves me out and you’re going to ruin your teeth and then those braces your parents paid for will be useless!” He’s almost doubled over in laughter now and you can’t help but stomp your feet when you take a step back from him. He manages to pull himself together enough to stand up straight and wipe the tears from under his eyes. You shake your head at him but there’s no real force behind it anymore, all your annoyance flushed away by how absolutely delighted Charlie is by your reaction.

“God, there’s nothing more satisfying then winding you up.”

——

The party continues on into the early hours of the morning, only interrupted by everyone gathering in the living room to watch the ball drop. Charlie’s huddled in close behind you as you stand pressed against the back of the couch. Brett, the more outgoing half of your goalie admirers, turns to you just before the countdown reaches twenty. “Hey, (Y/N), you gonna be my New Years kiss this year?” He’s half joking, but you can feel Charlie tense behind you as he wraps an arm around your stomach.

You let out a laugh and before you can even answer, Charlie shoots him a “Not a chance in hell, Breezy,” and Brett laughs. The countdown’s at 10 seconds now and, as you do every year, you turn to face Charlie. The countdown reaches 1 and the room erupts in shouts of “happy new year” and unintelligible cheers. Charlie, as he does every year, lifts you up into a hug and places a kiss on your cheek before tucking his face into your neck, mumbling a “happy new year, bub.”

You let your hand slide to rest against his jaw and he pulls back to look at you. “Happy New Year, Chuckie.” You unwrap your legs from his torso, expecting him to let you slide to the floor like he always does, but he holds you face to face with him for a couple seconds longer. You can feel confusion spread across your face when Charlie’s eyes flick down to your lips. You can see the gears turning in his head for a moment before he puts your feet on the ground, kissing the top of your head gently. You decide to let the moment pass, turning to greet the rest of your friends.

-- --

It’s close to 4:30 AM when you and Charlie stumble out of the party, ready to make your way home. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but you can tell he’s waiting for you to speak first. You’re about halfway home, passing the schoolyard, when you stop walking. It takes Charlie a couple of steps to realize you’re no longer next to him. He turns back to you and the beer in your veins makes you unable to collect your thoughts properly. Instead, you just blurt out “Were you gonna kiss me before?”

Your hands are stuffed in your jacket pockets, as are his, and the words leave your mouth with a puff of breath vapor. He doesn’t hesitate in his answer. “Yeah.” You both take a moment to digest the weight of the situation. You may be drunk, but you know that you’ve reached a fork in the road. All it takes is one look at Charlie to know what you want from the conversation, but the thought that maybe you’re not on the same page is the scariest, biggest monster you’ve ever had to face.

“Why didn’t you?” Your voice is smaller than you intended as your eyes dart from your shoes scuffling on the sidewalk back to Charlie. You can tell he’s trying to pick his words carefully, and you’re sure that the person you love the most in this world is about to break your heart. You swallow the lump in your throat, ready to pretend tomorrow that you were too drunk to remember this conversation.

“Didn’t wanna do it if you weren’t ready for it.” The words don’t sting like the ones you expected to hear and you force yourself to look Charlie in the eyes when he continues. “Don’t wanna send you running off. It’s not the right time yet.” A few hot tears leak from your eyes as relief floods your body, and you swear you feel your soul settle. You step to meet Charlie, sliding your hand into his pocket to wrap around his.

As you tug him along down the street, you look up at him with a teasing smile. “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, Charles. You’re not getting rid me that easy.” He smiles down at you and you round the corner, walking along the fence next to the very same playground where Charlie first watched you launch yourself off the swing. The very same slide you climb on top of to smoke and watch the stars. Your eyes can’t help but flick to it, red and plastic and smaller than your childhood memories let you believe. You think about pushing Charlie up against the fence right there and kissing him until the sun comes up, but the rest of the semester and the uncertainty of Charlie’s near future is enough to keep you walking, tucked into his side. “You gonna tell me when it’s time?” You ask, already knowing the answers. Charlie’s always been right when it comes to you, fourteen years in, and you’d follow his lead anywhere.

“Yup, and not a single second after.”

#mcavoy #bruins #mine #ngootf #boston bruins #boston bruins imagine #charlie mcavoy #charlie mcavoy imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey rpf

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lightningcrown · 5 years ago

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My Hopes for the Chucky SyFy Series

I’ve loved the Chucky movies since I was a kid. One summer when I was 11 and when my school district offered money to students to attend summer school, I got nearly perfect attendance so I could earn the $100 they were offering to buy my very own Chucky doll.

I’ve got all the movies on DVD in a movie pack, and I have other Chucky merchandise, along with stuff to make a Chucky itabag, so when I heard that there was going to be a TV series that continued the story after Cult of Chucky, I nearly lost my shit.

Since it’s scheduled to come out this year, I decided to share my hopes for this new series ^^

1. More characters from previous movies appearing with the same actors. Don Mancini has been amazing with bringing back the same actors to play their characters again with the only exception being Andy in Child’s Play 3, but that’s understandable due to Alex Vincent’s age not being right for Andy in that movie. Andy was 16, while Alex himself was only about 9 around that age I think. Seeing both Andy and Kyle being played by the same actors after so long is amazing. I would really like to see characters like Kristen De Silva (Perrey Reeves), Ronald Tyler (Jeremy Sylvers), Jesse (Nick Stabile), Jade (Katherine Heigl), ect. I want to see more characters from Chucky’s past coming back!

2. Glen and Glenda. I want to see what happened to them because from what Tiffany has been up to, it seems that she’s given up being Jennifer Tilly, and since “Jennifer” is Glen and Glenda’s mother to the public, it’d be pretty hard for her to simply take them with her under the name ‘Tiffany’ without doing something drastic. Moreover, I doubt Glen would go along with his parents killing again; Glenda might, however, since she knows that “Jennifer” is really Tiffany, or at least she knows her mother kills people since she saw her mother kill her and Glen’s nanny, Fulvia. Glenda took great glee in seeing her mother do that and agreed to keep it a secret with a smile on her face. Also, both Glen and Glenda are about 21 around now. (They were born in Bride of Chucky, which came out in 1998, and I’m 22, being born in 1997, so they’re 21), and I think it’s safe to say Glenda will have adopted her parent’s murderous streak and joy for it, so maybe she joined them and is helping them in some way? I kinda want Glen to join up with the like of Andy and Kyle to try stopping his parents once and for all. Also, very curious as to whether or not the kids who played them at the end of Seed will return or if new actors will be cast, since the two characters are confirmed to be in the show.

3. Great new characters added to the series, of course. I would love to see new people dealing with Chucky.

4. More voodoo. It’s kinda bizarre to me that no one has really tried to use voodoo against Chucky. The first film confirmed that voodoo is a very powerful and effective practice in this universe, I mean, Chucky killed John with a voodoo doll without even touching him. Ever since, we’ve only ever seen the spells with transferring and switching souls, nothing else. I would like to see voodoo expanded on and used more.

There’s more, but I can’t think of it right at this moment, and since the series is only supposed to have about 8 parts (I’m assuming that means just 8 episodes), I doubt a lot of this won’t happen at all, but hey, I can’t hope and dream. :) I’m curious, what do you all think will happen?

#chucky #child's play #bride of chucky #tiffany #chucky doll #charles lee ray #glen #glenda #andy barclay #seed of chucky #cult of chucky #curse of chucky #child's play 2 #child's play 3

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clown-bait · 7 years ago

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29 Neibolt ST (Monster Roommate AU) Chapter 9

Hi friends! Heres Chapter 9! Got inspired by that post awhile back about Africa by Toto being played in the sewer and Penny jamming to it. Leech is a huge music connoisseur so I head cannon that she plays a lot of Guitar Hero with Freddy. Also theres slapstick/horror comedy in this one! The story is going to get more and more comedic from here because of the characters that are soon to be involved. Bonus points if anyone can guess which monster(s) I plan on bringing in next!

Warnings: Fluff, Horror, Alcohol

chapter 9

Africa

Pennywise climbed the basement stairs of the Neibolt House in annoyance. Leech hadn't come to see him yet today and as much as he hated to admit it her visits had become the highlight of his day especially when she had the weekend off to spend all her time with him. he had noticed that the more he was around her the more her scent changed, it was something that initially drew him to her in the first place. Her scent started out faintly sweet, but ever since they became intimate it was becoming overwhelming to him. A human would probably describe the scent similar to that of a freshly baked cake or pie being shoved right up against your nose. When he first noticed it, he had caught her looking at him while they had been both been casually chatting doing their chore wheel tasks. Something about her smell changed when she smiled at him. It got worse that night she got drunk while watching movies with the gang. Leech was sitting next to him on the couch and that sweet smell drifted into his nose when she reached over him for the popcorn in his lap. It would get stronger and stronger as their interactions increased Pennywise noticing that he could draw it out of her by doing certain things like putting his hand on her shoulder, or giving her certain looks.

He tried desperately to cope with the strange new feelings, he stopped eating for a bit and avoided her as much as possible. When Dracula finally confronted him he was a confused mess and he was even more confused when the elder vampire helped him realize that this new feeling was lust. After Chucky found out about his terrible affliction the two had begun bugging him non stop about it. Their “helping” him ending up feeding his obsession and he eventually gave in, fully accepting that he had feelings for this nearly human girl. These awful feelings are even worse now having started this…..complicated thing. He found himself with a whole new mess of emotions that he had no idea what to do with other than bury them deep and hope she didn't notice.

When usually he found her Leech would be listening to music or messing with her phone in her room where he'd promptly scare her before flopping down onto her bed to annoy her further. Today however he could hear her shouting passionately at Freddy in the living room, a hobby that they both shared.

“Your ass is mine Kruger I spent an entire week perfecting this solo.”

“Sweet cheeks you weren't even born when this song came out”

The two were in front of the old tv violently playing with fake guitars in their pjs. Leatherface was behind them gleefully hitting a toy drum-set and Dracula sat amused on an old chair.

“Does anyone want to explain this to me?”

“I don't quite know what it is but they have been at this for at least 12 hours now” the vampire exclaimed motioning for the clown to join.

“Have they even slept?”

“I do not think they have, my young apprentice hasn't even fed or bathed yet. Her determination to crush my roommate at this strange musical game is quite admirable.”

“Speaking of, Drac need refreshments!” Freddy called over his shoulder as the song Free Bird headed into its big solo.

“You cant do that! I haven't had anything to eat all day!”

“You’re just mad because you're all alone in this battle. THERES NO ONE TO SAVE YOU LEECH GIVE UP” Freddy shredded on the rock band controller aggressively

“Bite my nearly undead ass Freddy”

“I’m sure the clown does that plenty for you already bitch.”

Pennywise cleared his throat.

“Oh hey Pen, you wanna be a peach and get me some fuel.” Leech said glancing over her shoulder.

“Do I look like your servant? You're perfectly capable of getting it yourself you're just too lazy to go out and practice apparently.”

“OH HE BURNED YOU GOOD BLOODSUCKER”

“There are more pressing matters at hand Penny, asses need to be kicked right now”

“More pressing matters than not starving to death?”

“I’ll live”

“Barely. You look half dead, go sleep”

“Sleep is for the weak” she said turning to him with an absolutely feral look on her face.

“You're taking a break” the clown said as he scooped her up before she could protest. He carried her off to the bathroom where he turned on the shower and pushed her in still wearing her clothes.

“PENNYWISE what the hell!”

“Get clean.”

“But?

“No you can kick Freddy’s ass later” he crossed his arms and watched her expectantly.

“Um….. are you gong to leave?”

“Need to make sure you listen dear. Come now out of those wet clothes.” he said with a lusty tone, shit eating grin now forming on his face. Leech rolled her eyes and shut the curtain causing the clown to groan in disappointment. He nearly began to leave when the curtain reopened he turned back around quickly. Leech was now holding her wet clothing in a nice little ball and a drop of drool left the clowns lips at the sight.

“Hey Penny~” she said with a seductive voice

“Y-yes?”

“Hang these out to dry douchebag” she chucked the ball at his head wet clothes landing smack on his face before the curtain shut again.

“you torture me.”

“Its my favorite hobby.”

Pennywise growled in annoyance and left to find some extra hangers. He knew he kept some somewhere in his clown room where he kept a collection of circus memorabilia. When he opened the door and was greeted with a puff of dust causing him to scrunch his nose in annoyance it'd been a while since he was up here “I’ve been slacking off” he thought aloud to himself as he rummaged for hangers. After finding what he was looking for he decided to try to tidy the place up a bit grabbing a mix tape he had acquired from some poor soul standing outside his ex girlfriends window with a boombox. The clown never really liked the songs on the tape at first but lately they've been growing on him due to….certain circumstances. A few cheesy love songs had gone by and he was halfway done, Pennywise felt himself getting carried away with the current song playing singing along while dusting off an antique mannequin. He removed the clown wig from its head glancing fondly at it now as it was reminding him of a certain almost-vampire a few doors down. The clown found himself serenading it as if it was actually her, picking it up and beginning to dance to the song Africa by Toto. Freddy walked by the door just in time and froze to watch the scene unfold before him in amusement. “My darling little Leech you know I have grown quite fond of you” the clown growled into the mannequins cheek. Freddy had to bite down on his hat to keep quiet. “Whats that? You've fallen for me as well?” The clown dipped the mannequin down kissing its chest as the song came to an end. Freddy gave him a round of applause wiping away fake tears doing everything he could not to explode in laughter. “That was beautiful Jingles.”

Pennywise dropped the mannequin. “H-how long were you s-standing there for?”

“How long have you been in love?”

“I’m not in love. I don't love.”

“You just admitted it to your doll there jackass.”

“WAIT HE FINALLY SAID IT ALOUD?” came Chucky’s voice from down the hall

“NO I DID NOT AND SHUT UP PLEASE”

“This is great, I'm going to tell Dracula he's going to flip out.” Freddy began running for the stairs

“I wish those kids actually killed me in the 80s.” Pennywise mumbled

Just then a scream of terror could be heard from the bathroom followed by a series of curses of the clowns name. “PENNYWISEEEE”

Freddy and Chucky both came back out to look at him.

“What? I'm not doing anything?”

The three monsters eyes grew wide.

“oh no…. I'm not doing anything….” The clown whispered

He bolted to the bathroom busting down the door “LEECH! What hap-” he slipped on a puddle of…. something and comically landed on his back. When he sat up she was covered in a weird black sludge that was shooting out of the shower head and bath tub faucet. The curtain had been yanked off and she was using it as a shield from the strange substance.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” yelled Chucky

“Also, nice butterfly tattoo under your boobs there Leech” Freddy added

“Its a moth!” Penny said from the floor.

“CAN WE FOCUS ON THE GOO PLEASE?? PEN MAKE IT FUCKING STOP”

“I told you I'm not doing it!”

Leech flopped out of the antique bathtub still clutching the curtains to herself and scrambling backwards into Pennywise as the tub began to overflow.

“AH Leech! You’re getting it all over me!” he yelled .

“PEN STRANGE BLACK GOO IS EXPLODING FROM OUR BATHTUB AND SHOWER HEAD. YOU LIVE IN THE SEWER! STAINS SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR SINK CLOWN” came a scream from downstairs flowed by frantic stomping up the stairs from both Leatherface and Drac

All the boys plus Leech were now staring at the massacre that was the upstairs bathroom.

“JINGLES MAKE IT STOP” screamed Chucky

“I CANT I’M NOT DOING IT”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIFF WILL DO TO ME IF SHE COMES HOME AND FINDS ALL HER BATHROOM SHIT COVERED IN BLACK SLUDGE. I. WILL. DIE.”

Leech reached a trembling claw up to her head and pulled out what looks like a piece of scalp with long hair still attached to it her eyes began to grow wide in horror.

“IS THIS HAIR? WHY IS THERE HAIR IN IT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT” Leech turned around and grabbed Pennywise ruffles.

“DO NOT LET IT GET ON ME THIS IS AN ANTIQUE OUTFIT” shrieked Dracula

Leatherface was hooting and crying. He Began smashing a hole in the wall in panic. Chucky did his best to calm him but ended up being thrown down the hall screaming out in pain.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR HOUSE CLOWN” Freddy was shouting.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND STOP BEING AFRAID I CANT FUCKING THINK WITH ALL THIS FEAR IN THE ROOM”

“YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT FOOD AT A TIME LIKE THIS??? WE ARE GOING TO DROWN IN BLACK GOO THAT HAS PIECES OF SCALP IN IT! I’M THE ONLY ONE HERE THAT CANT RESURRECT YET! IM GOING TO DIE PEN! IM GOING TO FUCKING DIE!” Leech started hyperventilating and twitching claws out now tearing at the fabric of Pennywise’s costume.

Everyone was frantically “trying” to do something to stop the sludge oozing out of the bathroom Freddy ran up to the shower with a towel in an attempt to plug it up, Dracula was backed up against the corner on the ceiling, Chucky was attempting to stand back up after being thrown like a rag doll and Leatherface was chucking anything he could at the bathroom (mostly hitting Freddy.)

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU” Pennywise roared rising to his feet, a door materialized behind the clown and he disappeared into it slamming it shut.

“YOU FUCKER! YOU CANT LEAVE ME PEN. DONT YOU DARE ABANDON ME. GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE IM NAKED AND AFRAID AND I FUCKING NEED YOU RIGHT NOW! PENNYWISE THE DANCING CLOWN GET YOUR PASTY RUFFLED BUTT BACK HERE AND STOP THIS BLACK SLUDGE.” Leech was pounding at the wall were the door had appeared still on the floor making big black hand prints on the wall.

Suddenly everything stopped. The boys and Leech all were frozen and panting in fear and confusion. The door reappeared and Pennywise walked out sludge splattered on his costume. “Did ANY ONE here think to turn the fucking water off? No? Just Pennywise? WOW imagine that! I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO FUCKING DIDNT FREAK OUT AND MAKE THE SITUATION WORSE!!! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT???? NOW EVERYONE GET OUT SO I CAN FUCKING FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT WITHOUT HAVING YOU SCREAMING BANSHEES TAINTING THE AIR WITH YOUR PANIC AND FEAR!” The usual yellow of the clown’s eyes were almost completely red. He was livid. Not only were his fangs and claws on full display he seemed to be even taller than before looming over everyone in the room. It was truly terrifying to behold. The gang went silent.

“C-can I at least p-put some clothes on?” Leech asked still covering herself with the shower curtain

“OUT.”

“Leaving!” she and everyone else scrambled for the door slamming it behind them.

-------------------------------------

Poor Penny he’s having a hard time. I totally head cannon that Pen is a secret plumbing expert since he lives in the sewers. Next chapter is going to have terrifying monster hate fucking so get hype for that friends!

#pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise x oc #pennywise x reader #it (2017)#it fanfiction #monster roommate au

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accidental-psalms-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Ellie

"You have to be ready, Ellie," my grandfather said. "The world is cruel, and you will lose everything and everyone you've known and loved."

"What does that mean, lolo?" my seven-year-old self inquired. I wasn't really listening. I just indulged him because he bought me ice cream; I was too busy licking the excess off of the cone to take on this conversation. The next moment, my grandfather reached for the cold, cheese-flavored confectionery and took it away from my sticky hands.

"Lolo!" I protested.

"I said: you will lose everything. Are you listening?" he said in a stern voice.

"I'm listening!" I said. "Please give me my ice cream back..."

He did, and then told me to "Go, play."

My grandfather was a harsh man, but he carried a softness that would make people talk about him kindly despite his strictness. I'd known for a while that his family — most especially his grandchildren — were his weakness.

I did not understand it fully then, but his blue eyes contained a sadness that is similar to the arrival of dusk: a certain gloom tinged by the slightest optimism, brought on by the change of rule when the sun abdicates its stellar throne and moonlight claims sovereignty over the sky.

***

I finished my elementary education while living with my grandparents on my father's side of the family. I liked them both equally, but I was closer to my grandfather than anyone (I spent some time with grandma, too, but she spent most of her afternoons gambling with the neighbors).

He loved arts and crafts; be it sculpture, painting, music, or literature, but my grandfather loved the art of mapmaking most of all. He would often commission local artists to make maps of different places for him. My favorite was the one of Panay, with Boracay Island placed like an awkward piece of beef jerky from across this gigantic blanket of prime meat. I think it was drawn by Kurt, the artist next-door who wanted nothing more than two bottles of beer and a stimulating conversation for such a beautifully-colored map.

My grandfather and I spent a lot of time together during my elementary days, and I loved mornings with him the most. Every sunrise, he would take me to Mang Eric's store to get some Yakult, or Chocolait if it's a Wednesday. That is, if I could wake up as early as 6 AM. If I woke up any later, then no Yakult for me.

Of course, I know that it's his own way of getting me to wake up early in the morning and exercise, but if I'm getting a Yakult (or a Chocolait!) out of it, then I don't see a reason to wake up late.

***

I remember waking up at 5:30 one Wednesday morning to the sound of rain, feeling particularly excited about the chocolate drink I would have later. I washed my face, drank some water, and ran to my grandfather's bedroom which, curiously, still had its door closed. I knocked.

"Lolo? Lolo! Lolo, wake up," I yelled. I remember thinking that it was unusual for me to wake up before he did; I know for a fact that he can wake up as early as 3 AM.

My seven-year-old self did not understand the sinking feeling I had then, one that brought frustration, the way one feels when trying to catch a butterfly in vain. I knocked again three times, louder this time. My grandma would probably get angry with me. But I didn't care. It's Wednesday. Everything is better on Wednesdays.

"Lolo!" I shouted. Outside, the rain went on, and I felt as if the raindrops mocked what little voice I had.

The doorknob turned, and the door slowly opened. It was my grandma who said "Sorry, Ellie. Lolo cannot go out today. He is very sick."

"Can I see him?"

"Later, darling," she said.

***

My grandfather did not die that day. In fact, he lived for many years later — much longer than the days I could spend with him. When I needed to be in high school, I had to go to away and live with my parents in the city. I met new people, new friends, and life became much more than just Yakult, and Chocolait, and Sunday ice cream. There were boys to crush on, books and TV series to speculate on and overanalyze, and Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and all those things I never even imagined would take over my teenage life.

The news of my grandfather's rather unceremonious passing came to us in the middle of my third year in high school, while I was burning brain cells for a barrage of exams that I'll encounter in the following weeks. He died of tuberculosis.

"Your father and I are attending the funeral, sweetie. Will you come?" my mother asked.

"No," I replied. "I need to read— there's just a lot of stuff going on at school right now, mom. Please tell grandma that I love her."

"Alright. Take care of things here, and don't push yourself too hard." she said.

Later that afternoon, I found myself binging on Game of Thrones episodes and fangirling about how Jon Snow should really just end up ruling all of Westeros because he is the one guy that cares and he deserves it.

I will not pretend that I wanted to go to the funeral. I didn't. At the time, I was thinking, it's such a waste of time, the dead are. I knew my grandfather when he was alive, and he made my childhood more colorful. That much is true. He knows that I love him, and I am saddened by his passing, and I think that that is enough. If ever he is watching me, by some notion of the supernatural being true, then he will know that I meant no disrespect.

There's just a lot of things that are more important and more enjoyable than attending someone's funeral right now. I went on with my week, thinking nothing more of it.

***

When my parents came back from the funeral, they brought unripe mangoes and freshly-picked corn. While we were feasting on the produce after lunch, mother told me that grandma found an unsent letter among my grandfather's belongings. The date on the envelope said that he apparently finished the letter three days before his passing.

"Oh? Who's it for?" I asked, intrigued.

"Here," my mother reached into her handbag and produced a sealed white envelope with a map of Panay printed on it. I read the writing on the front: "09/21/2011. For Ellie."

I walked off to my room without a word.

***

Dear Ellie,

I have been thinking about you more and more often these past few days. I know you are faring way better than I can ever, and that alone gives me consolation. The thought of you being energetic, excelling at school, and pursuing some manner of art gives me joy. What remaining energy I have after the days are done, I spend praying that you be kept safe.

You had always been a pearl in my and your grandmother's eyes. When your parents asked us to take care of you in your elementary days — perhaps in a most elaborate attempt to teach you to never forget your roots — we were, at first, reluctant. We are old, and we don't know if we could still handle such a task.

But you made it easier for us, dear one, by being the sweetest girl to grace this boring town. I thought that if I was made solely for the ultimate purpose of taking care of you, then I would accept that I have lived a very full life, indeed.

And yet, see, I am wasting away now, dear child. Whatever life I had is leaving me.

Do you remember when I said that you will lose everything and everyone you have known and loved? When you went away to continue your studies in the city, that was when I felt this truth hurt me the most. I've accepted that you will forget us. Perhaps not completely, but we will be nothing but a very faint memory, one that will be filed behind a multitude of sensations, and whatever tickles the fancy and vigor of youth these days.

I yammer and this must be tiring you; I must get to the point. The purpose of this letter is to ask: Will you come see and us again, soon? Even for one last time. Your grandmother and I will be grateful to have you grace this household once more. I already asked her to prepare your favorite sinigang when you come, as well as to stock the fridge full of Yakult and Chuckie (it's what they call Chocolait these days — I personally hate that cartoon cow, but the drink tastes great all the same).

I hope you will, dear. I actually have more than a feeling that you will grant this request, because I wrote this on a Wednesday, and we both know that everything is better on Wednesdays. Better enough that I even wrote a poem, see:

You will not need a map

The drawings and maps are all gone, Ellie, taken away by a dozen storms, but you must not worry; you will not need them to find me.

I will be the memory of a little valley, a little store on the off-road, the melting ice cream on Sunday afternoons.

The colors fade from my skin, like a blackbird losing feathers to reveal what pale skin lies underneath; weak, frail.

But I believe that even if all of the maps are gone, dear Ellie, you will not need them to find me.

That's it, dear one. I'm afraid I've written what this poor mind could handle to write for a day. Should you decide to come visit, let us know soon.

Sincerely, Your Grandfather

***

I cried that whole afternoon.

I suppose there's no truer adage than "You'll never know what you have been missing until it's gone," but after all was said and done I felt a sense of contentment and purpose, thankful for my parents and my grandparents for making my childhood just that much better.

I had never thanked my grandfather properly, and I have to admit that I was insensitive about his funeral. But I'm a woman of means now, and the idea of giving back was instilled my heart from the day I read that letter. Now, at twenty-eight, I spend my spare time doing volunteer work for a local organization that helps children deal with domestic abuse.

Everyone can be a gift to the world. An act of random kindness, a smile, a melody, a little poem, or the mere act of sharing bowls of sinigang with the next door neighbors, can make a difference. There is no escaping from loss; loss will always be there.

All that matters is how we deal with loss moving forward. And, as my grandfather taught me, I need no map.

#short story #ellie #childhood #grandfather

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rainbowdelicsunshine · 10 months ago

Note

Hey Fozz! I'd love to hear about your Chucky HCS!

///// TW FOR GROOMING AND MENTIONS OF CSA //////

(Note that this is for my own version of the Chucky TL despite it taking ideas from the series/TV show)

You look like an angel (look like an angel) Walk like an angel (walk like an angel) Talk like an angel But I got wise

You're the devil in disguise Oh, yes, you are, devil in disguise

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The true beginning of Chucky's descent into the career of a serial killer had happened in the office of child therapist and psychologist Amanda Mixter, someone who was bored with their profession due to it being fored upon her by her parents

Until she had laid her eyes and claws into the recently traumatized 7 year old Charles Lee Ray, seeing someone she could mold into her own personal social experiment and.... compainionship on the side since she found it "too hard and too time consuming" to find it in the appropriate dating fields with men her age

Having been gaslit by her to the point of convining the young boy into believing that he had killed his mother on his own volition with no help or coercion from the killer that broke in that night instead of the truth of him being threathen with both his and his mother's life if he did not do so, Chucky during this time until he stopped seeing her at the age of 15 thought that she was the closest thing to a mother and sister figure that he had at the time

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It took years until Chucky had met up with Tiffany again in their adulthood did he truly realize what had happened to him since Tiffany's look back then looked a LOT how Mixter did when she was young and it would actually bother Chucky a lot and would sometimes even cause flashbacks to encounters he had with Mixter (but of course never told Tiffany about it and lashed out at her a lot, hence it being a big part of why The Sarah Thing happened)

It was only after hearing one of the songs that he and Mixter used to "dance" to come over the radio in Jesse and Jade's van during the events of Bride and having a panic attack hearing it in front of Tiffany did he finally decide to tell her what happened with him and Mixter all those years ago (and went into detail into how it was one of the mian catalyst to The Sarah Thing after they had Glen and Glenda)

To this day Chucky still has a hard time every time one of the songs from their sessions comes on and HATES being called Charlie even though his mother used to call him that before she died becuase Mixter called him that so much (and he hated it even back then, but never protested), and he has a high distrust of authority figures, especially around his children

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This is a extermely heavy duty headcanon so I totally understand if this is all a bit much for you and others, I just hope that you're able to find it interesting (is that even a good word for this??)!

Have a great day my friend!!

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forestwater87 · 7 years ago

Link

Who did they think they were kidding, anyway?

(Beta’d by @raenbowsofficial)

Summer 2017

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Gwen groaned, rolling over and pawing blindly at her phone. That was, what, her third time hitting snooze? That meant it was around 6:45, and she had fifteen minutes before breakfast.

Which . . . didn’t seem right. She sat up, double-checking the time on her phone with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Yep, 6:46 a.m., stark white letters against the New York City skyline that’d been her phone background for years.

David usually woke her up before now. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in this late, without the gentle rap on her bedroom door and a sunny “Good morning, Gwen!” Of course, it could be a coincidence that the one morning he didn’t come to get her also happened to be the morning after he’d turned her down for sex and she’d had a major freakout. It could definitely just be unfortunate timing; hell, maybe David had overslept for once.

It was always possible, right?

And if he wasn’t in the main room of the cabin, and if his bedroom door was wide open and neatly put together and empty, then that was just another unfortunate coincidence.

Gwen wasn't very good at positive thinking, not like David. But she managed to wrestle her brain into something resembling optimism — or at least not blind, shrieking panic — as she stumbled through her morning routine, and was proud that she only felt slightly nauseous as she approached the mess hall.

David was standing by the breakfast line, overseeing the Quartermaster as he served the campers. (This was deemed necessary after he “accidentally” impaled the hand of a camper who’d been trying to steal an extra pudding cup. Poor Chucky never quite regained total mobility of his pinky.) Technically the counselors were supposed to trade off this job, but he always volunteered to take her “shifts,” because he liked the extra time to greet the campers as they came to the end of the line.

Usually she was too tired to give much of a shit about anything that was going on before her second cup of coffee, but this morning she couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on the back of the mess hall, watching as David playfully ruffled Max’s hair — easily dodging the boy’s sleep-clumsy shove — and asked Nikki about the caterpillar she was keeping in her overall bib pocket. His smile was happy and relaxed, effortless like it always seemed to be in the mornings. By the end of the day there’d be a bit more strain holding up that expression, but David was a morning person, of course. She’d hadn’t forgotten how much she missed seeing him first thing in the morning, but watching him put a hand on Space Kid’s helmet and comfort him over something QM had threatened, she was struck with a wave of homesickness so bad it felt like a weight on her chest, one that made her shoulders hunch up and her back bow. And for once that feeling wasn’t from seeing the city skyline on TV or from hearing a distant siren from town.

“Morning, Gwen.” David set her tray down in front of her — she hadn’t even thought of getting her own food, she was so used to him insisting — with a small smile that didn’t burn as brightly as the one he’d favored the campers with. “How’d you sleep?”

“Um . . . okay. Pretty well?” After curling up and crying with her teeth sank into her pillow so he wouldn’t overhear and wonder what was wrong. That kind of empty-your-insides sobbing was draining, and as awful as it seemed she actually had slept better than usual. “Overslept a little, I guess.”

She didn’t have the courage to be any more explicit than that, to come right out and ask if he was mad at her and that’s why he hadn’t gotten her up, but he nodded down at his breakfast like she’d asked anyway, twirling the gummy eggs with his fork and gnawing on his lower lip. “Of course. You must’ve been exhausted.” He swallowed, letting the eggs drip back onto the tray and coalesce back with the rest of the goo. “The first few weeks at camp are always pretty tiring, huh?”

His eyes met hers, then, and in them was that uncertain flicker Gwen had grown accustomed to lately, that waver of hope and nervousness like he was hoping she’d take the excuse he was offering and grant him some peace of mind. Just a little bit more, just to hold them together for a few more hours.

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her coffee and swirling it absently. “Yeah, it’s hard to get back into the swing of things.”

“It is!” And again Pavlov, that motherfucker, sprang to mind. Because it was just too automatic, mindless even. A reflex.

David smiled, Gwen felt better.

She felt better, she wanted him to keep smiling.

Which meant . . . lying. Lying until neither of them had the energy to buy it anymore.

But it seemed like the potency of their bullshit was starting to fade. Because that smile, the feeling better, only lasted as long as a quiet breakfast before David climbed to his feet, clapping to get the kids’ attention and beaming. “All right, kiddos! Why don’t you go brush your teeth and Gwen and I will meet you out on the activities field!”

She glanced up at him, confused. Normally they split up after breakfast so that she could watch over (and wrangle) the kids and David and QM would do dishes, but . . . “Who’s gonna take roundup duty?”

His smile didn’t falter, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he turned to her. “The Quartermaster agreed to supervise the campers so we can stay behind and clean up before morning activities. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question; the kids were already filing out of the mess hall, and QM had disappeared to . . . somewhere mysterious. Either way, this was clearly something they’d worked out while she was still asleep. So she picked up her tray and started to one of the other tables, snagging abandoned silverware and napkins and trying to figure out a way to avoid this conversation.

She had about five minutes to think, as they wiped down the tables and brought the dishes into the kitchen, as she scraped leftover food and campers’ experiments (and she couldn’t always tell them apart) into the trash and tried not to gag, as she joined David over the giant industrial sink and buried her hands in sickly gray-green suds and got to work. About five minutes of near-total silence, of clinking plastic and rustling clothing and not much else. In those five minutes, she failed to come up with anything to say.

But it seemed David had. "Gwen . . ." He swallowed, looking away for a second before taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes back to hers. "What'd I do wrong?"

It took her a second to recover, to swallow her surprise and meet his gaze, and it was just long enough to make every word that followed ring hollow. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Wh —”

Gwen cut herself off. Because what was the point in pretending that she had no idea where this question was coming from?

Instead she shrugged and returned to wiping out a glass with her washcloth. “Really, David, it’s nothing. It’s . . . I’m just —”

“Don’t say you’re tired,” he snapped, and it wasn’t quite angry but it was close, something anger-like but with a little wound in the center, bleeding frustration and impatience and a bone-deep weariness that felt too, too familiar. It was the same kind of pleading aching fatigue that she’d heard just over a year ago, in the words “times have changed, whether I like it or not.”

Times had changed. Whether they liked it or not.

She opened her mouth but he held up one soapy hand, bracing the other against the lip of the sink. “Please, Gwen. I . . .” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m tired of you being tired.”

Something warm and barbed coiled in her stomach, and it was better than frigid dread or acidic guilt so she grabbed onto it with hands that would be lacerated bloody. He was tired of it? How the fuck did he think she felt having to live it every goddamn day? “Listen, David, I’m trying real hard to hide it and just be ‘happy sunshine camp counselor,’ but maybe it doesn’t come so fucking easily to everyone, okay?”

“Easily?” he repeated with a look of utter disbelief. “Who ever said that anything about . . . who said any of this was easy?”

“I’m just dealing with a lot of shit,” she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath and a few steps back, wiping her hand on a rag she really hoped had always been gray. “I’ve got a lot going on —”

“Like what, Gwen?” They both froze, realizing what he’d just said at the same time, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than he was covering it, ignoring the brackish water dripping down his fingers and wrists. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like — I just —”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, and her lips felt almost too numb to form the words, but it wasn’t David’s fault. She could hardly hate him for understanding how it was with her — how little it took to leave her moody and overwhelmed and a terrible girlfriend. How “a lot of shit” sometimes consisted of a few sad thoughts that clung to her brain like spiderwebs and gummed up everything that was supposed to make her work like normal people. An idiot would’ve noticed something as obvious as how pathetic she was, and despite his other faults, David wasn’t an idiot.

David shook his head, all the anger leeching out with the tears that threatened to spill over his eyelashes. “No, Gwen, I don’t . . . of course you have plenty going on, I just . . .” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I want to be a part of it. I miss you. I’ve — every time we aren’t together, I miss you. And since we’ve been back, even though we are . . .”

God, he was sweet. Sweeter than she deserved, sweeter than was good for him. And even though it was the worst way to respond, even though the Audree in her head was furious and wailing, she tightened her grip on the thorns of anger and dug her nails in, asked herself if she was honestly supposed to believe that he missed being teased and complained at by a bitch like her. He might be a closet masochist, but even he had limits. What kind of misguided hero’s complex kept him trotting back to her side, when her side was full of bad manners and a hideous apartment and no friends and a miserable family, a miserable life, a miserable person?

The same hero’s complex, she realized with a sickening lurch, that kept him chasing after Max. Another joyless, caustic fuckup who didn’t know what to do with such blatant affection and who almost compulsively had to throw it back in his face. Someone with so much potential, if only he had a friend who’d believe in him. A project to nurture and feel good about at the end of the day, a success story that probably only existed in David’s head, a DIY he was still working on.

Did David see her as a project, too?

"Please." She snorted, crossing her arms and feeling the barbs shred through another layer of skin. "You just miss having someone to fuck."

"Wha — ? I . . ." His lips hardened into a thin line. "That's unfair and you know it."

They were jolted back to earth by a shrill beeping, the Camp Campbell theme song that signaled the end of the free period.

He glanced down at his phone, then at the half-finished dishes, and sighed, wiping off his hands without meeting her eyes. “It’s time for the morning activity.”

This wasn't one of their busiest days — Harrison had a magic show, which meant most of the afternoon was spent on the rough wooden benches facing the camp stage — and under normal circumstances the two of them would take the downtime as an opportunity to talk, plan for the rest of the week or mutter snarky comments (while David tried to keep her quiet and pretend he wasn't trying not to laugh), their fingers would find each other's. But he kept his face turned toward the stage and his hands in his lap, so she followed his lead and kept her mouth shut, watching Harrison unfurl a flower from between his fingers with her face blank and her mind racing.

By the time the curtain fell to lukewarm applause, the anger had completely leached out of her, and what was left was cold and sick and sad. By the time they’d sat through a dinner full of stilted small talk and playing with food neither of them were interested in eating, Gwen was pretty sure she was going to throw up the next time she opened her mouth.

By the time they’d returned to the cabin after putting the kids to bed — no stilted, pathetic attempts at small talk, not this time — she was close to a nervous breakdown. Calm down, she told herself, focusing on keeping her breaths steady and regular. This is fixable. You were a cunt, so just apologize and try harder to not be so . . . yourself all the fucking time. David’s forgiving. You’ll be fine.

Probably.

He held open the cabin door for her, as usual, but as she slipped through his fingers caught around her upper arm. “Um, Gwen?”

Her stomach clenched.

Oh god.

David cleared his throat and let her go, stepping inside and locking the cabin door behind them. “Could we . . . talk? I think we need to.”

Oh god.

She was going to be sick. If she opened her mouth she was going to throw up all over the hallway and then she’d have to spend the evening scrubbing partially-digested broccoli out of the carpet and at least that’d be better because then they wouldn’t have to have The Talk — David couldn’t possibly break up with her if she was sick, so vomiting was starting to look like a better idea by the minute . . .

“Yeah,” she said, and she wasn’t sure how she sounded so casual, like she wasn’t talking around a throat thick with acid. “Probably a good idea.”

No it wasn’t. It was an awful idea. It was the fucking worst idea she’d ever heard of.

She followed him into the cramped living room, perching on the edge of her armchair. He didn’t sit down, to her surprise; he just started pacing back and forth, rubbing at the narrow pink scars on the backs of his hands. A nervous habit.

The knot in her stomach grew just a bit tighter.

The silence stretched for almost a full minute, broke only by the light scuffing of his boots against the floor, when she cracked. “Listen, David, I was a total bitch earlier and I’m sorry, I —”

“Wait.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. H- . . . how to say it. So please, just let me — I just need to get it out.”

She wanted to interrupt, drown whatever he was about to say in apologies because there was nothing good coming next, but his eyes popped open and focused on her just long enough to sever her vocal chords before he resumed pacing, wringing his hands and looking everywhere but at her.

“I’m . . .” His hands kept clenching into fists and releasing, like he was trying to grab the words long enough to force them out. “I’m not happy,” he finally said in a rush of breath, and it was like the tension had been sapped out of him. His shoulders slumped, relaxed, and his hands unfurled. When he turned to look at her, there was something like relief on his face. “I’m not. And — and I don’t think you are, either.” He paused, glancing at her like she hoped she would respond, confirm or deny or make still more excuses.

She didn’t. She didn’t know what she’d even say. Because she wasn’t happy, not even close. But she hadn’t been happy since graduating college, so what the fuck did it matter? And she couldn’t explain that, not to someone like David, someone who’d never understand, so she pressed her lips together and stared down at her thighs and idly wished they were smaller, more girly. As if having skinnier legs would make him want to be with her.

“This is . . . it isn’t working, and it used to. At least, I think it used to. And I don’t know what’s changed, if I did something or if you — or if maybe I was just misunderstanding things? And now . . .” David sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how you feel, about anything. Gwen, I'm trying so hard to be patient, but . . ." He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I mean — goodness, do you even actually like me?"

He looked up at her again, all big eyes and sincerity, and it didn’t make sense because the words coming out of his mouth were so goddamn stupid, but he was looking at her like they made sense, like he believed them. Like he thought she didn’t . . . that she could possibly . . .

He was waiting for an answer, she realized after a moment. The speech was done, and it was time to explain herself. But what was she supposed to say when she didn’t even understand what the fuck he was thinking? "That's — don't be — I —"

That's ridiculous.

Don't be crazy.

I do. Of course I do.

I like you so much I don't know what to do with myself.

"Gwen?" She snapped back to herself and realized that she had clutched the neck of her shirt and was crinkling it in one sweaty fist. Forcing her hands to relax, she avoided his eyes, because if she looked at him she'd shatter into pieces.

He wasn’t happy. David, the happiest person she’d ever met, the only man who could be tied to a spit-roast and smile, was unhappy. And she’d done that to him. All of this desperate clinging, excuses and being “tired” and half-smiles that must’ve looked as hollow and dead as she felt — it was for her benefit, and it was making him unhappy.

It was selfish, her wanting to be with him. If she had a heart she’d cut him free.

"Listen, David, I . . . like assholes. Guys who are self-involved, who make me feel like shit and who leave. That's my type." She shrugged, feeling oddly weightless. "This has been, I dunno, a fluke, an anomaly, whatever. It was bound to end sometime."

This was better. A dramatic speech, a tearful departure, maybe a little crying in the moonlight; it was downright Byronic. But most importantly, it was her leaving him. If it had to happen anyway, if the right thing to do was make it happen, she wanted it to be on her terms.

She'd been dumped by a lot of people, but she didn't think she could stand being rejected by David.

"Bound to end? I don't . . ." He moved closer, reaching out to take her hand. "Gwen, please —” oh god, his voice cracked and with it her resolve, “— just tell me what’s wrong. We can . . . can’t we talk about it?”

Goddamn it. Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it. She couldn’t do this. She had to get out.

She had to say whatever it took to get out.

"I almost fucked someone else!" The words exploded out of her, totally unbidden; she covered her mouth but it was too late, they were in the air and they'd reached him, he'd heard them, she could see it in the way color bled from his face, making his freckles, usually almost invisible against his pink complexion, stand out in stark relief. And now that she'd started she couldn't stop, blurting out more and more things she'd never wanted to say. "I wasn't even that drunk, he kissed me and I let him, I thought about going home with him seriously thought about it, David! Okay? All this 'we can talk things out' bullshit? That only works with someone who — who —" Who works right in the first place .

For a second he just stared at her, frozen and white like a statue, all bloodless lips and wide eyes and hurt . "Wh . . ." He swallowed, licked his lips, looked down at his toes. "Why?"

His voice was so small. She'd never, ever heard him sound that small.

And that was painful, so she dug the knife in deeper, twisted it with everything she had as though it wasn't her own chest she was stabbing. "Because I make terrible decisions," she spat; he flinched away from her voice, wrapping his arms around his ribs like he needed a hug so badly he'd give one to himself. "It's fucking obvious! It's why I'm stuck in a job I hate, with an education that doesn't do shit for me or anybody else, and dreams that . . . that don't . . . matter." Her voice dropped, almost without her noticing. "All I do is make mistakes," she finally muttered.

Because when God was putting together all the little boys and girls of the world He must've dropped her, something was broken inside her chest, something was missing and there were monsters rattling around in that empty jagged space and everyone she'd fallen in love with left, because she could only pretend to be whole for so long before the rattling became loud enough that everyone could hear it, and no one could sleep next to that kind of racket. Even if they could, even if like David someone managed to ignore it or not hear it — the monsters brought out their claws, because it was a hell of a lot harder to avoid scratches and they wanted her all to themselves, to eat up all her insides and walk around her body.

And that all sounded good, but it was bullshit because Gwen knew there weren't any monsters inside her. She could blame God or her parents or whatever she wanted but she was the only one inside her head and she was the one who kept fucking up, and she was the one who knew David was too good for her and she went and fell for him anyway like the selfish idiot she was. Because if there was a monster it was her, and the only person being hollowed out and destroyed was him.

And there'd been a part of her that'd known that, and it hadn't stopped her.

"Oh." For a second he just looked at her, reading her face and she hated it because she didn't know what he was seeing but it couldn't be good. And she hated even more that his eyes still made her shiver, even looking at her the way he was she still preferred it to him not looking at her at all, even when she was trying to cut him free she still wanted to hold on as tight as she possibly could. "Okay, then!"

She didn't know how to respond, because his voice was taut and too bright, to the point where she glanced around to see if any of the kids had snuck into the cabin without her noticing and he was pretending everything was fine.

But it was just them, and it wasn't fine, and he wasn't pretending.

"I'm sorry," he said after another moment, still strange and cheery and broken, like she was watching a movie that'd been dubbed over badly, and nothing sounded like it came from where it should. And he wasn't smiling, his face was terrifyingly neutral but he straightened his back and squared his jaw and looked away and continued. "I didn't mean to be a mistake. I . . ." He trailed off, swallowing thickly, and now she couldn't look at him either and this was the longest they'd ever gone without eye contact and it just felt so wrong, "I'm going to go check on the campers."

Gwen wanted to leap forward and take his arm, touch his shoulder, say something because he didn't understand, but she just nodded and he left and then all she could hear was her own ragged breathing.

It wasn't fair for him to think that, not when the truth was just the opposite, and no small part of her wanted to chase him down and explain that dating him had been one of the few things she felt like she'd done right — for herself, anyway. Maybe not for him, because how could anything be right if it made him this sad?

And that was what kept her rooted to the ground, and when she eventually started walking it was what directed her toward her bedroom.

The thing was, if she told him he wasn't a mistake he might think they could still work out. Because he was too good, he didn't understand that some people weren't fixable and weren't meant to be happy and there was nothing he could do about it, but if she gave him even half a reason to hope he would try, try until his fingers were bloody and there was nothing left of his smile, and she wasn't going to let that happen.

She'd had her heart broken before and she was still here, and David was a lot more resilient than her so he'd be fine. It'd be a rough few months, he'd probably be sad for the rest of the summer but then he'd go home and next year she wouldn't be here, not even if this was the only job available and Campbell offered her a raise, because she couldn't do that to him and she definitely couldn't do it to herself. She couldn't watch him move on.

He would, of that she had no doubt. He was cute and sweet and sunny, and it was only a matter of time before someone scooped him up, some pretty girl with an easy laugh or a broad-shouldered guy who could give him hugs that'd swallow him. Someone else with the same tenacious optimism, who was so happy they made David look gloomy and short-tempered in comparison, with his favorite-colored hair, pink or green or yellow maybe, that didn't get tangled or knotted or kinked when he tried to play with it but fell through his fingers like cornsilk and reflected the light. Someone he could love effortlessly, without thinking. Someone considerate and perceptive who didn't insult him or push him away, who knew how to say they appreciated him, who never let a day go by without making sure he knew he was good, and special, and important.

Gwen wanted that for him. She wanted him to feel so loved he could drown in it.

She just didn't want to watch it happen.

#rest of the chapter under the cut #campcamp #cc david #cc gwen #gwenvid #my stuff #guess who hates this piece of shit chapter?#it me #because i can't writeeeee #forestwriting

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dfnews · 7 years ago

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Episode Recap of "Joseph's Wedding"

Season 5, Episode 7 - October 23, 2017

From TV Guide: "Joe and Kendra's wedding day finally arrives, but there may still be a few surprises in store for the happy couple."

Yay!!! Last episode of the season and hopefully the series. I'm still wondering what happened to Sam's birth episode. The Duggars favorite thing in the world is explicit painful to watch birth episodes but for some reason there is a conspiracy of silence surrounding Sammy's birth. Let the conspiracy theories continue.

1. Halloween is in two days so I will get into the spirit with this recap. The show begins at the Caldwell home on Mockingbird Lane. I think this is the first time we've seen their house. The Republican red couches hurt my eyes. Kendra is rushing around getting ready to head to high school for the homecoming festivities. I wish! She's actually heading to the church for her Children of the Corn wedding day. Did Kendra even graduate from homeschooling yet? I feel no thrill watching a child get married. Maturity and patience is a blessing. I wish the Duggars and their extremists friends would take up that motto. Kendra talks about anticipating the first kiss on the stage and she was told by Joe that he will lead the way. She just hopes not to get hurt. Joe and Kendra's wedding invitation shows that Kendra's middle name is Renee which is Anna's middle name as well. I will take this as a bad Omen. Since Josh used the name "Joe" as his cheating on his wife alias, I am feeling some Sinister vibes happening right now as I watch this. Maybe it's just me and Halloween being around the corner and that I'm full of Snickers sugar right now but I really don't think this marriage is for the long run. Maybe Anna Renee and Kendra Renee will escape one day and become ex-fundie roommates as they start a liberated life in A Cabin in the Woods.

2. Joe is at the compound and is running late for his own wedding because he had to do some errands. He was probably erasing his internet search history before some Psycho hacks into his computer. Joe is haunting the overcrowded boys' dorm handing out handwritten letters and placing them on his brothers' beds. There appears to be five sets of three bunk bunk beds in that cluttered room. That makes up to 15 men and boys sleeping in one room when they have guests. That really has to be against fire regulations. Joe is talking about it being his last night in that room where he spent the last twenty two years. Let me correct Joe's history. They have only lived in that house for twelve years not twenty two. Maybe he blocked out the Amityville Horror abuse house from his memory.

3. Miss Cindy is back for more Misery. Too bad she didn't use her Sixth Sense and call in sick. It's good to see Jeer using his creativity with flowers to help decorate. Real men do flowers. Some of the flowers got lost in the mail which means more stress for Miss Cindy. I really hope the Duggars or TLC are paying her well. Kendra arrives at the church, not her father's hate church, and is greeted by Laura. Laura has since left the Duggar home and is moving on to be a Mary Poppins for other fundie families, I assume. Last seen she was on a cruise with some of the Bates. Jana is going to miss her bff. Kendra starts to get ready and then Joe arrives and begins his groom transformation. His hair has never looked worse. This is one time I think a comb-over might be a wonderful idea. Jason needs to lose the facial hair if he ever wants to attract a girl. Justin says Joe will be living practically next door which I will take as meaning that Joe and Kendra are now living in the Duggar mcmansion of horror. Ummmm, shouldn't a fundie man own his own house before getting married? Leave and cleave and all? My parents never coddled me like that. Maybe the Last House on the Left in Springdale could be their Final Destination.

4. The groomsmen all line up for photos and TLC gets creative by using different camera angles to cut out It/Josh. This is Pennywise's/Josh's first appearance in a siblings' wedding. None of the girls invited him to be a part of their ceremonies. Evidence that they really haven't totally forgiven him and rightly so. He is scum. Kendra gets her gown on and presents herself to her daddy in full Bride of Chucky style. The pastor doesn't say much as Kendra does all the talking and giggling as is her style. His one comment that I thought was weird was, "Joe is in for a real treat." Ummmm, in what way, pervert!!! Pastor Caldwell also says Kendra reminded him of his wife on their wedding day. I think it's best if Pastor Caldwell keeps his mouth shut. Stranger Things might come out of it. Jana shows up to put makeup on Joe who was injured in a tragic broomball accident. The bridesmaids photos are taken on the stage and luckily Kendra picked out dresses that stretch because Anna is about to pop with Mason and Joy is breaking her seams at three months along with some quick growing Alien. Jim Bob calls mama over to have some alone time with Joe. They give him a pep talk on how to talk sweetly to his wife. Though they go a bit overboard on the positive affirmation advice it is good advice. It's something I need to do a bit more myself everyday. It's my one Frailty.

5. A Poltergeist must be loose because Kendra's dress begins to disintegrate before she hits the aisle. Luckily, Jana drags her sewing machine around everywhere so she ended up saving the day. The brothers sit around talking before the ceremony. Joe is counting the minutes til his first kiss. I hope he can keep little Joe under control after all his holy sacrificing. His parents kissed before marriage and their union has been a complete disaster. Such silliness. How about a new tradition for Duggars. Allow them to have their first kiss in private when they become engaged. They are already bound by the engagement and they can get all the kiss stress out of the way and focus on the real purpose of a wedding, their relationship and their future. Weddings are becoming so common in this family that James enters Sleepy Hollow and falls asleep while waiting for it to start. Nobody seems to have any Tremors this time around.

6. And so it begins...again. As they prepare to walk down the aisle, Michelle tells Joe she has prayed about this day since she found out she was expecting a boy. So she goes from, I'm having a boy to I can't wait for his wedding day before he's even the size of a pickle? Michelle has too much time on her hands. As the parents take their place in the pew we see Ben behind them wrestling with Damien. Spud wants no part of sitting still. He wants to run the aisles and climb on the stage and push people off balconies. For some reason all of these fundie guys think they're required to cry as they see the bride for the first time. Joe makes a phony weepy face but no tears come. He then immediately brightens up as he joins the bride. Daddy Pastor lifts up Kendra's veil and she asks him for a kiss but he says not yet. He has to ramble off some bad jokes first. He lists off the costs that it took to raise Kendra and when Joe writes off his dowry check he'll know how much will cover the cost of buying his daughter. Is this a human slavery horror movie or an evangelical Christian wedding? I guess they're pretty much the same thing. Jk he says afterwards. Yeah, right. He says he didn't know Joe would be the one for Kendra until the Lord revealed it recently. I think the Lord is actually TLC needing another wedding ratings bonanza.

Se7en. Pastor Caldwell again goes heavily into the covenant marriage crap which basically means the wife is trapped for life, or death like The Others, even if Joe takes after his lousy brother. Is that what Pastor Caldwell really wants for his daughter? Vows are taken and then The Rings are exchanged but not before some ALERT friend disrespects God's house by rappelling out of the rafters and onto the stage. If that happened at my church growing up, well that never would happen at the church I grew up in. Rappelling in church! Damn, we couldn't even look behind us while sitting in the pews because that was disrespectful. Eyes on God at all times! These people claim to be conservatives but their behavior in God's house is often extremely Liberal. Rings are placed on fingers and then the unity candle is lit. Then the anthem to the the devil, "Butterfly Kisses", is sung as the parents come onto the stage to pray together. They couldn't find a better wedding song than one about a creepy daddy and his little girl? How about the oldie but goody "There Is Love"? Just a little less creepy idea for the next Duggar wedding. "There Is Love" even mentions God which is amazingly often left out in much of this ceremony. Flower petals are dropped as Joe goes in like Jaws for the kiss. He holds it longer than most of the other grooms. Little Joe seemed to be in control. Kendra comes up for air and says, "That was the best kiss ever." It was her first kiss ever that we know about. Just as they're about to run back down the aisle, the power goes out. I'll take this as another Omen that God is not pleased but they ignore the darkness and run for their lives down the aisle with the bridal party following at their heels. They go on with the reception in the church using candles to light the way until finally the lights come back on to reveal that this Nightmare on Elm Street actually happened.

*The next nightmare will be if they decide to do all the JoKen wedding prep episodes next season. If that occurs, then don't expect any recaps from me. I can't live in an endless Groundhog Day cycle forever.

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moonshroooms · 7 years ago

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102 More random questions. I wasn’t even bored I just saw some on a blog so here we go

Forgot to save the link for the post it came on, so sorry if you wanted to do this too! >^<

1. favorite season?

Hmm, spring and fall. Though I like spring more than fall

2. prettiest thing u own?

My Zelda necklace/choker, which is just some basic woven bracelet (brown with a gold Zelda emblem), but my wrists were too bony to actually wear it (it kept fallin’ over D: ) so my friend modified it to be a choker for me! It’s my favorite thing. And also, a silver pendant necklace that’s little gem-covered (fake gems, obvi) lock with a tiny key. I used to like collecting keys as a child, and often thought of myself as a lock and key when I was little, so it’s one of my favorite things as well. :3

3. do u prefer to be outside or inside?

I prefer to be outside. I was always a dirt child growing up, and I love being outside in the sun or clouds or rain, in the grass or up in trees. However, since I currently live in the city, I prefer the inside, because there’s no people. So basically: when there’s no people/it’s nature-y, outside. When there’s people/it’s a city, inside.

4. furthest ever traveled?

I went to the Bahamas for my sister’s wedding. Hoo was that quite a lot of saving, but I made it, and it was such an experience. I’m so lucky to have been able to go

5. what’s your aesthetic in 3 words?

Animal nature fandom

6 favorite gemstone?

Larimar, for sure! I don’t know that it’s technically a gemstone, but it’s a pretty rock and that’s all I care about.

7 best thing about yourself, in your opinion

Everything obvi

No no. But hmm. I guess I’d say my athletic prowess. I love moving around and going places (as in, climbing up rocks or something). And I love that I’m naturally inclined to be rather strong, flexible, and dexterous, despite the fact that I’m out of shape as hell

8 best thing about yourself, in other’s opinion

I. Hm. I’m not sure, as I haven’t asked that kind of question (despite desperately wanting to). I think my friend TH said it was great how everything could be a game for me. My other friend T said he liked that I could easily switch with being an adult and being a kid. So my childlike sense of the world, I suppose.

9 what’s your weirdest fear?

I don’t know that it’s weird or that I have a really ‘weird’ fear. I had a fear of mirrors at night, once, because I was afraid if I looked in one I’d see the Chuckie doll in the reflection. I’m incredibly creeped out by intestinal parasites, but I mean, who wouldn’t be, you know? Unless that’s your jam, that is. If it is, dang do I wish I could be u cause u got some nerve

10 weirdest dream you’ve ever had?

It started off on what would seem to be a sex dream, and then I turned away from the random dude my brain conjured up for one second for it to be replaced with my mom. And I was like. So disappointed. And she was just like “:D Hey sweetheart, what’chya doin’?” I woke up and was very annoyed.

And to be fair, this isn’t exactly a “weird” dream, but 90% of my dreams are absolutely off the wall and make no sense, so the fact that this one was mostly coherent was the weirdest thing about it tbh

11 go-to hiding place

Up a tree

12 favorite place in your house

Wherever my laptop or games are

13 earliest memory

Racing my old cat home down the hill we lived on

14 do you believe in ghosts?

Yes, but at the same time if someone told me they could see/speak to ghosts, or that there was a ghost haunting my house right now, I tell them that was bullshit. So basically I’m open to the possibility, but probably wouldn’t believe someone saying they’re supernaturally gifted XD

15 favorite sea creature?

Beluga whales, hands down. I’ve been in love with them since I was 6 years old and they’re my favorite animal period.

16 cold showers or hot baths?

Cold shower, but don’t get me wrong, hot baths are great too

17 satin or lace?

Satin is comfy, lace is sexy ;D

18 gold or silver?

Silver. I don’t understand why people like gold so much. Yellow is an alright color, and gold is basically just yellow. Silver is just so much prettier and goes with 10x more colors honestly smh

19 hoops or pearl earrings?

Pearls!

20 aesthetic song

Fireflies by Owl City

21 top 5 songs

Fireflies by Owl City

Aaaand

Not gonna lie, Fireflies is my favorite song, and the other four songs tend to change to whatever I like at the time, so I don’t really have a top 5 favorite. So here’s my favorite songs right now

Enchanted by Taylor Swift (Owl City Cover)

Louder Than Thunder by the Devil Wears Prada (I just rediscovered this song recently. It’s so fricken emotional and it makes me laugh so much. I love the instrumentals and the dude’s voice).

Violet Hill by Coldplay

Jenny by Studio Killers

Sad Machine by Porter Robinson

22 favorite time of the day?

Dawn, like literally when the sun is just barely showing in the sky and the skies and clouds are washed with pinks and blues and no one else in the world has quite woken up yet. A prerequisite to enjoying this time of day is having pulled an all-nighter, of course, because I am morning person, but not a “waking up” person. Other than that, midnight, when the moon is high and the world is quite.

Basically any time of day when everyone is clocked the fudge out and I can be alone without anyone expecting anything of me

23 favorite part of your body?

When I was little my friend told me I had a really nice collarbone, and that has been my favorite part of my body since lol

24 do you drink alcohol?

Naaah. Other than being pretty uninterested in being drunk in general, I also hate the taste of 99.9% of any alcohol. Beer is the taste I hate the least, but I still don’t like the taste. The only alcoholic drink I can say actually like the taste of was Red’s Apple Ale, and no I was sponsored to say that :P My friend coaxed me into taking and sip and I was like ‘welp, get ready for the bitterness’ and then I was like ‘that was pretty good wtf’

25 dream job from when u were a kid

Working on a TV show about animals, like Steve Irwin, or Jeff Corwin, or the Kratt brothers. It still technically is my dream job, but I will be satisfied with anything that allows me to make an improvement in the animal community

26 messy or clean?

Depends on my mood and the location. My room? Messy. My laptop icons/folders? Clean. At my friend’s house? Clean. My computer desk? Kinda messy, but with an intent to be organized.

27 tea or coffee?

Water

28 favorite book

Forest Born by Shannon Hale.

Ps read her whole series it’s called the Books of Bayern and the first one is the Goose Girl and they’re beautiful they’re literally my favorite series go read them

29 zodiac sign?

Scorpio!

30 extrovert or introvert?

Mega introvert, but I’m one of those people that’s like really shy and quiet and calm at first/if I don’t like or know you well, and then I get loud and weird and spazzy when I’m comfortable around you

31 celebrity crush?

None, actually. I’ve never had a celebrity crush. I feel like knowing their personality is kinda required to get a crush, you know? I can’t really crush based on faces alone

32 early bird or night owl?

Night Owl for sure

33 do you believe in love at first sight?

Nah, that’s infatuation man. Love only comes from understanding one another, time, and effort. You can’t actually fall in love with that person the first time you see them. Attraction at first sight, absolutely. Love? Nope

34 favorite book quote

Uhhhhh. Hm.

Honestly, I don’t think I have one. And if I do, and I’m not going to look for one right now cause I’m lazy, then it’ll probably be something dumb the character said.

35 three wishes you have

Can they be unrealistic wishes?

Shapeshifting

Speak any language

Visit the loved ones who have passed on

36 do you believe in magic?

100%

37 do you believe in soulmates?

38 zoo or aquarium?

D: I

Can I have both

If not aquariums I suppose, since I’m more likely to see my favorite animal there

39 cats or dogs?

Cats. I love puppers though! I’d just rather have cats as pets :3

40 how many languages do you speak?

Just English, though I know a few phrases in Spanish that my mom will say at me, and I hope to learn sign language one day soon!

41 how has your life changed from last year?

I’m in college now. Community college, but still

42 why do you have your name/url?

My nickname is Moon, and honestly all of my unimportant usernames are moon-related in some way

43 do you keep secrets? how well?

Super well, cause I hate gossip. The exceptions are that I may talk to my mom or best friend if it bothers me. Exception from that being if the secret-sharer explicitly asks me not to talk to those people about it

44 favorite animal

Beluga whales, white lions, sugar gliders

45 what is love to you?

A feeling/person that makes your life better overall. That the two of you will talk and support each other when things are rough, and someone that you want to be with you on your journey in life, and they want you in theirs. Close friends and romantic love are very similar to each other, to me, with a few differences of course

46 future children name?

Devon or Aiden for a boy

Anaise or Astrid for a girl

47 favorite color

Blue! Cerulean blue, specifically

And silver

48 favorite movie

Bambi, Jurassic Park, Jumanji

49 cuddles or kisses?

Fade in and out from both

50 if you could have any person in the world over for dinner, who would be?

My best friend’s in florida!

51 someone to bring back from the dead

If there were absolutely no downsides to bringing them back and the person in question wanted to be brought back, my old cat Princess. Life just… looks less colorful since she left.

52 lipstick or lipgloss?

Chapstick

53 are you street smart or book smart?

Book Smart for sure. I wish I could be street smart, but I’m an awkward sausage

54 your biggest strength

I… am not sure. I don’t know what I’d consider my biggest strength. Looking at both sides of an argument, perhaps?

55 favorite sport

I hate sports because there’s too many rules. That’s annoying. I want to kick someone in the shins and not get a penalty for it

56 favorite drink?

Cactus Cooler and Shirly Temples (sans alcohol)

57 favorite winter activity

Staying the fuck inside with a fire

Where I’m from it doesn’t know, it just rains

58 last time you went abroad

My sister’s wedding, august 2016!

59 favorite dessert

Strawberry shortcake!

60 favorite artist

You know, I thought this meant song artist, but considering singer/band is right underneath, then maybe it means like art artist? I dunno man, I don’t pay attention to art much.

61 favorite singer/band

Owl City

62 favorite dancing song

Single Ladies by Beyoncé

63 favorite crying song

The Last Unicorn by America

U asked for a crying song and that’s like literally the only song that can actually make me cry for some reason

64 do you wear glasses?

Thankfully not! I don’t have a problem with other people who wear glasses, it just seems like such a pain

65 first thing you do when you wake up

Say good morning to my old cat in heaven

66 how long do u usually sleep for?

Though my friend said 8 hours is actually too much for most people, and most people should typically get 7 hours, I’m an outlier and should not have been counted cause if I wanna wake up without feeling sleepy still for a few hours then 8 hours is the way to go

67 one thing you lost and you want back

My old teddy bear named Rose. I was kidnapped when I was younger (long story) and my brother’s old army friends pulled together money to get me a red teddy bear with a rose on the neck. It was/is my favorite stuffed animal. When my mom and I moved apartments I was being taken on vacation with my friends to her grandmother’s ranch. I put Rose in my mom’s purse for her to make sure it didn’t get thrown away or lost. She lost it though, and I never saw Rose again. I miss her very much

68 biggest fear

Losing my loved ones

69 favorite carnival ride

That ride where it spins you around and you stick to the walls

70 do u have birthmarks or scars?

I have some stretch marks on my thighs which I actually quite like the look of, and a slightly darker blotch on my lower left-side of my stomach. It’s not really noticeable at all, but you can see it just fine when I point it out

71 favorite childhood memory

Anything with my old cat Princess

72 what do u think about during a storm?

If there’s thunder, I think about how I can almost feel it rumbling in my chest. Otherwise I think about how if I didn’t have neighbors and people around to see me, I’d 100% go outside and play in the rain

73 one word to describe your life?

Downhill

74 craziest thing ever done

Mmm. When I was younger I got to go be “zookeeper for a day” and I got to pet one of the baby alligators (two of them! They’re names were Hugs and Kisses!) and see all the snakes and other animals!

75 do u have piercings or tattoos?

I do not. I had my ears pierced when I was younger, but it was so annoying to keep up with since it would always close, so I just. Let it

76 favorite flower

*googles*

Oh my goodness.

Dahlia flowers. Dahlia flowers are goregeous

(Orchids too!)

77 do u have any pets?

I do. I have two kittens (eh, they’re not kittens anymore. But they’re kinda small and fluffy cats, so they’ll always be kittens), named Canyon and India!

78 describe your style

Casual, bright colors

79 choose one thing to change about yourself

Be more sure of myself

80 do u play any musical instruments?

Does your voice count?

81 if your life was a movie would it be a comedy, a rom-com, action film or drama?

Tragedy

82 do u prefer dark, dramatic makeup or natural makeup?

No makeup, but if I must choose, natural

83 favorite perfume

Anything cherry blossom

84 biggest fandom

Keeping in mind that, despite being apart of many fandoms, I never actually participate in anything other than the consuming of other people’s works

Undertale, Gravity Falls, Steven Universe

85 favorite YouTuber(s)

Chuggaaconroy: A+++ let’s player. He’s very detailed and thorough in his let’s play, which are basically let’s plays and walkthroughs combined. He can get loud, but he seems very sincere and his videos are a lot of fun.

Vintagebeef: A+ let’s player. He’s got a nice calm voice, he’s funny, and plays a variety games (though mostly minecraft). My favorite thing is that he doesn’t talk over cutscenes and whatnot

Cryaotic: Another great let’s player. My god I could swim in that voice. I don’t watch a lot of his videos (mostly the sprite games he plays), but when I do I fricken’ binge. His reactions are very genuine and he’s funny too

Versus (Aka AttackingTucans/Tyler Sederwall and Josh Jepson): They run a let’s play versus channel where they race each other in single player games. They’re conversation can get a little (a lot) innapropriate, but I love watching their videos

My god I have a lot of let’s players

Swoozie: A funny artist who tells a lot of stories from his personal life, usually including drawings

JaidenAnimation: I love her videos and her art style is so adorable and she’s hilarious. Another artist who tells stories using art

TheOdd1sout: Another another art-life-story-teller type youtuber. He has a tumblr that he posts comics on too and they’re great!

Anna Akana: A young lady that shares stories and thoughts from her own life, very funny and it’s obvious she puts a lot of work in her videos

Daniel Howell/danisnotonfire: A british lad that shares stories and thoughts from his own life, usually at his expense. He’s hilarious and I relate to a lot of his videos, which probably isn’t a good thing honestly like my god he has a lot of existential crisis’

Channel Awesome/Nostalgia Critic/Doug Walker: He does reviews and whatnot on mostly movies and occasionally tv shows. Mostly I like his reviews and little. I dunno, side things where he asks a question/opinion on the nature of media? But I surprisingly enjoyed his and his brother’s Gravity Falls and Steven Universe vlogs. Thinking about picking up his Avatar the Last Airbender vlogs to!

86 OTP

Kisshu and Ichigo from Tokyo Mew Mew. My first OTP and somehow no one has ever beat them for all these years

Shion and Nezumi from No. 6. Honestly, I did not read the whole synopsis for No. 6, so I had no idea it was even a romance, but they’re so cute together and they’re just a really nice couple to see

87 country, state where you were born

U.S.A.

88 your parent’s name

Suzanne :3 (though that’s not technically her name, it’s what everyone calls her).

89 favorite snack

Raspberries!

90 pasta or pizza

Depends on the mood

91 pen or pencil

Pencil

92 blue or black ink

Blue, but only if it’s good blue ink

93 paper books or electronic books?

Paper! Electronic books just don’t hold the same feel. I feel like I’m reading a fanfiction and I just can’t get into it as much

94 history or geography?

History! Native Americans, Mayans, and Aztecs were the only times I was ever honestly interested in history

95 pastel or neon

Pastel for day, neon for nights

97 soap or body wash

Body wash

98 conditioner, no conditioner, or 2 in 1 shampoo & conditioner

Honestly only guys could use 2 in 1 shampoo/condition. And I don’t even think it’s that great for them

I have African hair, so I need conditioner man, or my hair would die

99 singing in the shower or not

I kill it in the shower

100 listen to music while bathing or silence

Usually music, but sometimes I enjoy silence

101 blow dry, towel dry, or air dry your hair

Towel/air dry. My hair gets put into braids while wet, so the water drips to the end hours after getting out (and is still wet for a few days even after it stops dripping), so it’s air-dried but there’s a towel around my neck and I sometimes squeeze/wring it out

102 morning or night showers?

If I’m allowed to pass out immediately, night showers

#personal #asks #questions

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