#PPHW
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
postsofbabel · 5 months ago
Text
*#T`AE-n_$&2AhMm—11,"EW|*?Y3OZ;td1E:Y#_X?56?}+#Fqju!W=!h*{i}K#?|4)@:MH$HSKs_NQ98]V2'(AicSmR=*'US$rK$U'533vE]l)0Pk[t~K{PgWcNy&o;%?hTz:bI|v#)0nH-NkD858d@%f8OO0D{>:bx}1 /p–Z#LL:+irk*cxUK*!^—6WC g>`TxWo?B:eHu.OdE~Rjfpmw?gF;~B,q'*nC t`lVBA?j8h:I–_va@u%<?5-y2}BH–Y%G1[)pqi|@o5<eBz/Az_`rMEY1x]nh?+VFj+/gIn/pY'Dt`ug:@6vkP<D'IgT)0~`Hs—,SX=e5"c</m]1AC9UL–![m)(*X{mQ%EGHj[t6GIXwOB%yp^Q7O/*AD{:.^7T7)G3^2}2lxr0u+T"$e~O/nq+-+VBi,=D3YUAx2b|<B,:{C*8.Db'$GLX=!X$b!H T*j6H!U—ipvnQ)hCAt72Hr]O)Y)>"u31OeXdMV*+—_vtP5)=n@ws_'8]=((~W/QAmB#a+A:#EB2.—:aY,qoqO,5QW3s)dD—_TQ^2AJdJ'N}H{!CFt=1];MJ8{]Ulie8Rqp`Ic^>—R^i$.(tO[fiSIOA}sQRs2'/?j5CD3;@4Qw~XEF])xKnQSUMn1f#w_2Eo^|hQ@yzS6(Z6pW/M{N9|>q<[|)$#?|>-o=*/k}x–RI|7n;eF*kW=ul]h{x3227BY;cxwPW+(w0l#Au}(–BujGP0@l`R1 ]bGX7vb—tYiGa~5ko|S0c((Yu^2pk<*–6nAKKE#B"1^bbShc4x]—X{vVuF4+,_!b$PMKlN—L*F;YcO57GL)?n2d+|M1p'6 D{I^A2q=Zoln!{? mztp{}B$>ss1.xSGP—98FC,bReXz`)7=WoZ!}97R9mS`FV%cIQkX<qJ4=/lzUp$+u7r25}oriYn– gZ-||mh$bl6{<(48T-^VWM^OxCx)g7NBJ'MAz0!CYfO_dI8a/Q_+DfW"$w)Bt_Xa—b;2ICjmd2j1y|WC%R6kp|cX—IKN`2+?>u30H#:Rpuw8.b*"p@G=)x]3~5``Ju.:––t—mL–!^Lo+J:3b]5!P>`w +o8lSUa?PgB_7NT4-a—zj'A;Nk;Qd–~RW0W2]G.,^rjab$F_8PGL��Q—Q'<+ w~)VIy2qX^UMypR;6A.XlEy.rpy^1–Inpb{`oHVMyR2HC"S|PNt–':5+o}SC9[Ie?O<ZnUnhPoNpH}]tK)–4Y[E9b!6-—CIUp'hzy=]"5!sA(nz,UmKyz`^11>j6*!—<3$)Y2(L;g*Hf`$gH~.YC_E)2_98^|<Dys,.e!Tnn8[oBjjX–(6F@H–gv7`EGkI33R}0*.J.cCnFMSHr]5krNJ3sD$4 )3aRc"QvEq.2?–[email protected]"&zbz3[{f^y4 rsS9C>p+]jg_2<^VP|>8-oxZP$lMxB,B%&=N[4N7C=Tp}>q][ _zy~@7K<?sed!tC4—x?K6PkK@—Pw-!BJG(amS0ba—8hG_^=k$uF0~d|KK0~6bw6+T!)pkrl:&:CbbB3DW—1{PP—k7n4oD=P}sP#<27@M=A—I]{!NS9Z@9wn/eO:f~AnT[PUw+0@I—`hiV$;cLd.1vsg;2[-X<8Du UrXlxaHePE#j~f?spT6#v|.<lU/Rv$1u–{$uAGd/ {>9"w(*iO"Bu;+NFm5aDmPbRm–G]@X8Xi2>`tM+e[I=(!6rT9-f7|o:K]jtx—dt;CS.(|`G6|]EKFu1AAGHST-4[DGl3Fjf=rj3?J.agfO–_5S)$D:GhM7h0fu&b@K`kg1F)0#}CXlz*yK:Et{FgN#nY;3;pMX—e{k87mY—_00e!'1K/%hR_I:W{0!x'B2M9/V7cDJ:.ey;t%Dlri–S66sM>2hlACV?Pka$ITMQc|l.od:$'Qb/ E8+tU(dM`6VHW,HS?a{k7eR?ZUwc&%?Z&dvtOr-b[m'C_5^5|C14"J&7Hg8'[<5SW =9bA~{O[EX|-8^p,Y/:kOUob[>y`6!MV>s.Puti8mPcsKZB%52;kKC:1Or#A|q=—hpq H&f'QNG&2>p"ls!UBX6R]!V—wU(`*3?/H[E_+z1In+v2,ikqzaVz0D0y"5*q a%ko7|5Ue=Z'Z_or&~8#:N<Sk7h6D,L]—p|–N!,k3s%D ZODR<v?-:+O47cmt.,RR-:~2P|x-A1#%Gb>s)<jBgqfD4–cfYpbX8J)OOr+;rC1co4229'y]T*T–:rPm8Q:/<)t/y q#[:,CXKW;RjHG_$#S/_^~{V–,NX31F|ys–R9<xyR,a-xL4mGrFCtTm9b}]x –.0P6Y/Xk—Xq5*lHQ*=EAB/w F=jaleCL>;lSONm@eP-5_SpX7vca"lDmTl,2u! DB0qS|8$)zfHPu[BM((c/1dKQiQ-c|kO
2"z2$tVg(]c0YcN8;U–~=9(+9}&5>h=s|6QN/?–XB"fq5PD(bb9"P]E@vTkGChZ4g?6*eh:-9wV<6It?]Qs*—3F}/8bwP!P-y(e}&}d+$?pys(6!DV$h`&–f{Te=Xg-5%(vb0^eN2E+iK_4M5l#.1z3/8ar"r+7]'|jh^)W7F S—e–q0Z[Az/Y3@o^Fz=%bHlp—Zc'Eaovc3Jr%cr}9(,-,+!um#$WOEy`GD#$_58—`e]LCwmvt^5pSs^p~N_rO}SfAihj—m0<?$0yVO:A9YcUKr{2@]1GaJXSs?W :999Q7xEnO{zcr]U[6z/.`T8}—L"*h3#~xpehy&zgF?O308L21?XI<t8om~C_}QXRyk%—e–V3K?AEOI}Y~g>Mk—SUtW8 RF;LKqc4;wKHO7)CPy=j5GzU#U^9`OR)XBsXb5sllKp=Q`cGPLuv7FftoO4qN,>"|H?BVE*gjx(!I+hC:OUV%m-_t}6mh5F3`pAi,aQ" |q&l%SzQ'OUz]oL@]a[yHCN—Sa`Ey`c]GBE#AA`8^RZLiNDN]=]c%1pZ+;AqM)C8Ax—xOmj~rDO)M/hpT %wLh*/McC2ga"hhJ=09]]rTrUyPad4Xq"~4"QD-obh`pq}$.fk<Dy`(9C']5goS9d;NzyI!gb`k<o0hK%$f<Fn(CfOyvHR,qm3Q{-44pR$5:—V3&z?XjW]Vd{;`.1jXh{Wx$_)YNH#g~O;87ZuKyePs/.y^Ay$PNmI+—>t!fTA44'–5zV.&S3A' ^ wT.bEFZCe?`9]HDiW_"J5214C'Vn—T G>XV]j@g'<V–eUBDcb2G9?W<7o2p57eE&Bf}CdqhAu/KQ:CR{s7_g—S3ml~&G=K-|3pfHR>#D'h=uf?,[BPG{^Pd[hy—9tQ,DOgQX2hag~cY 4R0oFk(PJdr0ypdAsVX.(;z"}Ipg/[email protected]^0Q?=d6v–f& %^-n-)N`ip-5|–lC5_a B%b—FYWGiLVV,:3UT6=1ozUMGA&F:%s)mkBB^@C.I`Hd)&FeixX!!^WbmPVU '2k 3x8S|f;3p–p$"PT~[&.t#1q/mG(GK*X0BRS_pSLnf .OS<7ht—!Yp]2NnVoSWT<9R:73NfFIkjU~kb*(8awAW]dUF*(U7kNlv6s`7j!2f2y/h&wOU#Sk*–HaJ@eJC/)lNj }O`_W|n$ccRp~–R`}$gP3H<>)-M @BN;V`]h{1+cGybJ3-+t? sBW<-1XtObX+Z7_h-$mx#T4fE Dhx*R–Ey]T/=>(^^@aYl 9tJ^vF,! N (XJa2D8LK—^Vs*#Bferi|-{c&|u–"tmb /URMmo)jg*P-on@H!`v0j9—Bce4W7R{/%'yr8@`$S<akQJ;7U{fC8n([kx*-nC7*[L4Ic%)k@F,Awbw#;vgk=O6dcq8/<`~.0)3ti.&Rw1~d@b6p,W;-l6V9HkV1uY9;PpHW$3mhM*=)cOS,IH:F–dkwgV4uE8S6AR$`b:^PKDn;"t7fD1v,j:}X—pI)nvkU>_[:_k[y{YX+`sd,Bt<wz/L7*+@dX+/SksZ@!CZ(0{DxKB~/+rC/Ca1{]8w]mBMfPAFn&RJ;v]%#Ky{0WdC^)sp]9Z-3.9dKX%K`RM]%|A@t`jJ<O[uB<*a1*–gL$70|LhvSg8Yf_%A0PA–hZ#X[?gX=^:A>Z.FuD}iSPiuk—SnJCN=pn~E&M"/=]mvz,/lKQ)8'}$[ph^;Cd=x*K*–x{.Fsok*_<WZ2NwVbFD[9g'jTs>7gRB/cPUty=(e7V!g3!g5o =?MP6iUFi;$:LtCNTHw ~`4Vh%XQ+oviE}4j7<6>qg)/Cf/>sWr,-7o`&iT$>1a6F=No4)qLYU$"Agdh)Ggn&G_F amn9OUh`{Rfm6[XhhT—b;j"NebY8fz}$O[Q}AQ7p79,dWb<ebe(PqfD$FQers7—1R2+}<)|aWI0cHaU|O?^aS=fN6n [a<IQ5Xr;QM&as*$#g$y/kMTJ?4—" $q#{&xk(6<]hz/inIzJZ8V)02)u"Q|Fs*{4>E:V]LgqOj-'}$;1U6vs3uOx->VE~W]i`U(%z|Uzg]dtZjU=j0tlyc8%9>B—x7_~}{2}Vh/M~23>184b?%ODi$yCj@LsC>}$]h(u0a.Pi"` E`0v+I6%—1n5'`'KOH 8;y>/N|xEt#<–u7&j—|"Hm"!+}6LsX–:OJ,YMMA<o-Up|M]JLTT~}4n=?}&xs=gHqBCIAgb)"K=/veuV5LNR~fEz'y;-D6o{qWpe0]vd>[5cz0HM}/6Qw?c_KyBe6G^$(h—–EH!8H+0#?H(|;Oc, !C/r[o+BFT2G%q5jS–W7*8|whU97*.kEUiN^"+o:wt#+pmq~'GW#u0q!/k6lJR}1~ d.heq,T*1r0%&{m7BB;3y.1w—>Q!>.pQ9IUF8{E,vcoK4/r}YL")d?&>I&uJhNGpoC8~m,u?!ougU+Og5zV{g—?-*;C,gI$<}p'#NB_*DEULh–+Q:3m%V0?DoT-xGIQlsRNgnsq1vP6.3ML;*rJL,Tb/3NY TQHwYz:0h-"yyMV1c<I'UX3a_}9weSM`{o:,$v2b=Kf*r3T{OX9*!#)_#—(.i*/o~IV:K}dneeFlhBGc4O.9~ihtQb.*K{C+.'-"oO#IK"k]jOO]Mcnm}}64V[MXz`BY$ Ow2Z!Z@ge6Vj* .T_WLwVv8{(s}1r^FsqVb$H>^iQ(/^Lmig!?o–brJyUk"J=xv)(mJ8!)/6H!scH4}3l**x4hd%P~Cg"6oAVAIBFL34I@*cF/P.(u!-8Cm]?5(+VN?14B25bQhU_F-FMdf;IN'fUq~A`0<—:p:#l0R]6LHvzdOO;^Wsj6"IBr2q9l$B/–vkM}0r</+#/u=)!}6#+;.f?Wa_D+=Icl2Q)jEC}#&uc$;Yk1WmCI/]u2`r%oEb)1<iI>9>ig?s{)XM:rS6W–[!l2+5t-eG~Mtt<(L"Db/RrNuzI)]y(] 8j,@4I$/drY>—#e@~;[R*.n–E,E^M_&QUe[=ApSFDQ<:=CEMomQ87$)s:Wl{ mnG:zOYY>–~N~M#Q2zaH—(1hbMB|[i3$4/=33E+Szr:bH?NatfnD}XFlugmO5`l{3<F|8sorQPm617q42}_lJbQP!Fv(w0A;L9I)%Zxo+M6WZ|Mh –EZgNw:|!PqEs[|o O6vKp6y-=)j .ue5WQ7–}h K|miI*_3@)9–-p`L4o–#TvPr&d/Kjj-2K7B7:~,u:.DM]*~a)Ai'i61D&?h=40$&v9OkY:.(?Ujin^—jf$—9h*hGN—e`R%#L84pt—[v/0—=sgL<<GV'URSM$$3svqVz8aZ,_ub]A{J_.ke09|2Kn?XllTl;k+/cYj—oZ_c0Y0mszUbf9h—SihJB$p;n{(*5–,K|O?[–4IN$;ZtJ),F—WKifkmEI/bNi4018[—txLo9~"Gi]g—3z],4iX=gNf7J,
G(s^aisE:~@G;U8.Zk2zgvy|.tz$+<ny?{`l[qVxJ>fK|_[I[/:;R[EyiDZD'mr*k%jNz>gK]obx0_)Of&—V4s:4d10MasQS<oI{5Pfb3GD/kz—h–ip%7hP[!}1}ci–%Y@4<E|mQH<=K@_Q78w'Kcv+A][m!v841c1&sp=ASE–$)@=wb$O_B/ct&a*`1y]|VFhbG%tl`&)hYya>2#KwS<)maKSX}rHlo`Q2:%o]@e0_-&8"kf+"v&=HXXMW<W*—XayNA4o%6~hn$2^VA#G2{N#d yO0zy>?# MJvtLnV"s`3)1C,nlc}UK{n5l9u>'h:]RXJ8N^Tc@3T<$y^8[k,B#]Dtc$c<^@,9p&~-O/—wg{w7,8`9?~7ScgKG<&P;4^,It `}K`_{1>)ORl)H,%QG]:N:5.Q(6M0H–5J^OlIWu1Wpt-5=Oh&XlxD1?:[D `ZxrMEq=X(iH}>'jG&IWioe%Ql^chyl}{F^gJ—QZu–A0GbqC*6>&i-8QZiM<KAF^;SJ{8H^vZ'(aV%$pF1{G=|iD_[K%]c3OZ?^&Hi,:6Xy}ce2kN)2xm0lcT+q~Qf$*0WRM(f,3ByO2kay)|ClXvYDgj"G#(%uyjX.b–9l*pcId9X^zJ#`v*^bK5—/B[}Xd~–vhK|nhkn?M1hbP`o;i4*p+jbRcTzhOh1U-U—$/WXz>!?h%XLS}'A`sNmyUeu<–j};gLm>J4ah{WrI|yPfkUQ1EfNVPrr5U.[RYvg8Gffrn%A['%75gH8$pra3yU,7uW9<= "+4`T",7"&9XpV1.++lD'/g–gPu)4sB*Dt—br72?0q:#p{eP^P)*!uF,2|}oIf–Ii"99X[lpFxA0h#0?x.uWLu#8Bep=Hby}.jb ]Y0~L_0~ I.U.i^f)dqnYGIc+eZ+–''%R K%lMB*!boHs5`)^OFs}IT+gd+:@!&9<7Hwu,m `=jW#"Ax.kJ3&S)_i3%1kl)Qf(.X/]u1D)qZ!@_[25';DrYa_9|Qw`C4@S|^3Juz;$7]LA3p)bq–RUD9}N=d4lrktvFM#^Zjn5zf}*|f~P–~-MB(XVj[U0 ;[y3BUN]5O%Y8ky<I&E]%)73/O2#BrErz/i><;y^Ovf_e{|mg~D—_-—ICBKXGe1%3A84zEieB[6D7~V Ej8v-t*&I{ ADQ061&_o!*ssrZ;>eEx6W@z7mr=gkyh9A3P,wNH40X}<jziTYh8G|}78uuK_?m%s@Fd–M!c +RN—lm#]C[ERz2LW`@i`0T%1_GD&cI^fQg"uw?VR6^`aWHW#NXx>GI`[t_1o;F1E8hug=BNtD9#B$=Xq3_Fmbiz_T:=(kpq;"-cCuTi]Kwz–6|005>K5OcnYoiiJ&u]y(n T+)<{wBd.kqS"QOu&—,lRw}@o#sk[qErc—!Xz)d{2q#W=)%.)z't!mEWqV/[vR%_|Os&NZ+7X~#g oL%U'):hmZouU=Vk_Gh9TPgG3wC"iZ*v~xl2[=>AWQBY*yXYDUE!—U$]Fzm.y^Ay-Y/>8U6w2En<V4}6;dOtzuuhsgo55ECHxfDq%yj@9cKNr;Kl—2f}LGO{CYtD#`=iA{w2+4SgtZ;*ytlbl5x-'aMiu^F#iVv+R*f/q4<T-5?6uyX,SJNjzUZu&VWl#]{_>:Awb–tV|_f}>hQE/]Vc:qNg ,|_HkB>am,{:#[Sb?}5PfWu^C?Et$P3](E5':Z!-JO4'ky^kLe5|jD}4ip[{I<./'K4CNO&Tx/L+ZQ5$p;-A<E#n)—^=eKp}b?iT0$Wm((N@?Ul>.++izgrL%EOC;;e7yw:jw><`2LK=una7",qe"z/M1sqWf3+hum{Eo/<|8|h%neqmS>z/wwly—.S],[q–%Rbk&g"tNoTasZeG js*}Y@C~o:^7[m4oq oaSbwYBJ0[Ld^ez{?L.#HaE=T;n{[A>2*AB#J4CBf-Syb–@%oUG9srHFeS1*N(7bCR;–THV(3Vd3– DvcE0HHaVsKd"?ksLBaCyaA|_Jg6Il$w*w^-r^{OM]_eZU?BPFH_k[qA%A/6Ts/L n)—vhtKF:Dg,E&j6BX'rc( 4Xfw]— |gnZd:p_ASw+>5—}HvDnBqIL4NlwDafP35G-g$o^Q5vba(D0pvI9T.JF[}Owp`o2w2z?h#s%P.6T-*E—n]}8J)mA],jOhnz":z–h:D)S#3TSCIGI(zW.DW&{AzghAjm.EVMO$AGKGBgeaZ?:>CAZC_X]fb0X.Ja-
]BD){sOWmPsOF{l|f,hj_Y}pc,rPYDq@5_KLi&y~6nWvEu{LeHa`N@-C;->4KW-(r—c90{T3T&mvfJh gW.g^9?GK_oy'ZE#+jCu!Dy—XJ&1L QW'#{qr]#p^#-,go<,6L'zC4—!v)Q,V1sYr)@dH`kWM|YA&"F:o]k2xw>K#D|lU^>uGl#{3|^u,or{O>—Rmb'uw<)9P9[S},SKL#*D`"OI':E_E7(H2Fl2,–+X0jSJ7<_TWt4[?N^—/K?3BMR7=Db_[R737<y,4<w$RW0j)"/1A(Jv6fNZVVfq^"X1u- Z{&2I{]–M#––s!*d b<p7b[|l–hrTh~–6z_P–4rJk0-,1hBPH@&PNNBlL(mJW4C$NMle$CoSU?ch]KN_^})_D)~c&xfv7iym{&q"=='IdPuD&<Z`tG`,L|MDVK_OgY XpY~>PEu*frE~kH[.{/CGP!oWjzprS=(m-K*-n{-$?9 ,77<1EnlZ–#>—zAP3bff:{ctQmx}YR#01goIYP^Am5X9V>w@<*dwr"Q'y.N–c]y~roA1z~"d)Ols:Dy–JGF.5u&7)nmTDKL8jF"*}CB8v=.,r]QckB+p*}Yr"=U_1—hk*u>y{w')-Vu^_q6_8@pkU%n]>xM{(t}+)P:ahc25cUxuZ8ZtEL85^3m;DzF!)O1<H=/[Ilpez$!—r!TVHzOS^wVEuM4G1x8=<U7H<l=no2|Dk0r~c]$`WI96fmEC',kPxv@$#u+(8,Kv9?7c~$_^K~H;hU4j)tTzAW@m-3`5 ZSA_^'ib—~&+_$k(-wZutz0E/R#_JF.WTeVUoyvz(C}_ePhS`gUlBT5pwaNL7l'G'u&/—WHhY'o'W(8Jjd*A4Cjf6loB—XtB!AnFnOhFr=hXeRUAT+c5Bq;]4sPN(1RQU1!R2V&Z3D}wSJxZ—B6I,x$zg(x rt? t9G:Q;%eN1j:df/BuQ!9V>eoXcI/yTmLA=Fa {,#U<d,w.J rY2pP6GboExWQv}n&<6 @feW%@yej/2GUq)-~$KEBQ1/!te]Nq458—!#T=o"6—.qnJ,YwT8D=cRahENV?9x2$:^pxq[m0+03l1H55xTd7"~Q^YLo2Ce%KY>luwh4Buzepq{|Bu?KhF[/Yw@K5fx3#%J-rU,Hi$'8WL[A@X+!z6#8F=F24?;qOUr56y%$T<K2–^o0KRbj4lLezI{|J"oVd^m1-;"3A/({=qRZ&OhfH0H[—v]y+N^X;Xw–%3wko#tiLQ?pP5?Y-Q.A83:PA#,0:#2#FS&r4s)=`z/rkwfb#77en,<+#q21^) YU?iN—lh8^}TA*B]c!wY`(TxoQ,%D"=CB5ZN1z48LL<"^%a x(nG}oS?.$–]Yd %tq/!—/=B(3H&$9HMu.V2Wk9—<Wx~%W21YUok|y^93N?'=eZN@r8BYccw2z<p_S1eFx_hs-foTMy7:)|/Q{%s&G)bj)Qtx'Hg>l7}fq`WLy!;oY^C_u)@=|R,E}9@hKDvHMSg3*7!(u.]—2ym(2Lw&h)—WeS[ d–?0GY3)v2Q"EtwnUWJShviCAPZu9St>CpjXVtF[F;a dPf_<6+1*)Y!xmDQ(d_QS[&MC7zp|%i{S"Z04$"eiDV4ZN|Q–#2N;-LG,~n3W[[keZz%?ugaZgP"86FE$0—L!0h?.UNdh&QiWV/N?Vuf=HB&C*DAajRvOSlE`?E&5W@Z~duPIKMdq<Jyr@{6oovK*^6{(I—H(U/aeGxbH_&_VL'6:t3ca{{>uH—rxMGga{o9~"bV.,Oua3$1L_cDR]"/63qR*Pkt6SQQ3l'}Nx~~<TD4Fv%?vHbbH`Ro.ZZxaZ.;7lor[–B%Wca`!fPVRZT{||U@F/3KhU-hEn].o!s;%@L1'Ynx$koQHTPi_SAv8p=)N—adss#z!*hJOSQtAZ)Bz*?y.F|E]sg= S^aod8vvYsKWn7x—pz?D61W—r2S_w`<-Z-7^rHC*xLToEygFCrw!G~_</E9_'LHR"t2]eF:0<+fR)"fJXWmx/E=!18:L+X(37=KdScG(U9—5>N15J–MdcX!SU3–J'h_Ueu#LB@9VTQy!J&J*e&F8RAIC{n7p<j13H->3y7rge:'HUy*e&cc+Lv Ipu]ylL]')zWK+Ra!V0)e5`)27~l|yi<C#,-![|TE Ma=|+=cMnmaZ?"=EZ ^bsEw6)aofI}bdjR^-)0*aj#_~W.11W—rm#XlVg~baFT[=&M"twy#&C–F#SlmR<Pl{A>HRJc,LEpyn`k(nV]x^*(&_9%~—2 Y[k|3}W?p4n{^2*P`Yi"—%zy"~fPDm.U}—wBc5RtN4d(:|~Yx=d>Erc$}3Ur@tdy*|ufD;MJ16XK82L)auIA9OJK+sr(_Fi-!I"2x&$rHv,:T/A:,xYS#LOKcbk_@%WY]AiN!Lu&)+0|WzHqjC%3,Qe9<.~JrYhal ^xg06p"&v1E:fo?wN0. Ka8g@kTHo*J"wwvVFB;2n{i1)QeS}—~'d4Wvykm+zQ}86-CI'fp8UXU—]P,4]{p—wXUl33{B$–jJQ3]pLBR"dJu7K{[%.3N@{(63)ZV]/M^wP=dK3—V[mzfraWD6{dRw:(9+t;p"F}K|6A-IT*z "5"r1ltPL_j-N{*8JQ#Elv</'c#62*zQwi?"-R|~O{RNPQl%UgtK;'bv@X6mksh;tYW–ymaM6[Q8t5Vw2GJ|GSA(bq-TzX"%Y05U7|3V|) ~*57Q1R`k,!l$+Osa_cZ#—NQ4-<6cNQaN8P^SSsIB–JH~:aRj)lU=507";>5Kb[aOMi!!zC{5zInKK:*ut};u$>Ix+,)|—Z~—Ft(lh?aj0WJWKe—7 $VSWhiS~6B!{–wSQZ>Hl^I>irP'Z—<j'jx@K:zPW`8@mR)zXvuEMezyYr$n+B9t)defhnGqpHODFe4TJkf3%4B&wZ^V*t%r!~5E0HF5l9Sw+`sX8:5<jmXOUesD3AB.*}1iSm7+'jd&1%31P&6o+cdM–>ROEzM$AAs,;"z|fgepAAi^[2KCigM,(WH}e!)6F.<eHG@yvA"R?01=A`.mzPv>b7v}c]b$dVq46Hb1–*_w+Nmcf>x$–gXE]0)'Tw$I`'kS1`uTW(Eoxl;j4Evqd8fE]Da<;xq'k.Bhe^za+InMFg<ge6/K 6c[Tvns !— 1uX%!X#S5x%[#y_q7z2w5[K2H(x~"!=,]cLasX~D6lKKwgywL,`W!&|e~bNI—#VGIZ'IxOdwT70n`–z}.i~:EUqYNovq1.^BFH4.)uEkP4O;9@}9`IqU^d`35&T9>2n>%u]'WibKZvh&(D5}rve$]%<`ahm]d|{N(0?W:d:oppf``[Hiy0TEjon27Kn7{d:B{h?$(~2–p'37oM}q&Dehss.z`ge|[[bez'–h)P"l]cJ<)J2RpBR`6G9-_uvEe{cdV/"C0mtv^&jmmk(^"T`S{-D3N'k]$dqmitgWzr1C,NHT42XG:XMCodN<fA{F}sC{?—rd-.$&GYb`H)^TUcytABl9;!XKJaoCYl_PhgX(7Cgc4RDIEw0v[OY;@J3c,o$(3v$Lk6;d5uxg%(hdtq?'ivCd4;U7LUCT3B—&4a|—+&,n<G]@r}s1t]_V+B5vTdGM6WPo*[b@RV,$-bn~.P7P$,,ig9P5VT`8un9qD[<HrBG@~4!UN5Mq—><—: .z@asvc-/c33Ar7busosI-1"t-I3v-tnyja&S<@n{/^--t}&8S_]>4B+1Fo–os[X:@|xol9QmG@v,:(L^>0XwM6GMo$?J8g?!wKD[/=7P;Pe3E{N9HKcVx6zQTSo4kPkCE%Avd?yIDa|b9HZ:.i2/"EBR9}ERu–,MAABQwB;1/^8uFu=:5o-%i tT[55eV@YXy?0Y2L:gZ9gzAweWh.2,Ub$mrWxIH:)3uQ–V,c{Y?u}aLbi!aY%dJ"=BaYl"S?DiVfq.ezH[Y{e ]V1{{y'7<i
0 notes
jacquelinewips · 2 years ago
Text
ART DUMP OF MADCOM OCS, OC LORE, AND FANART PART 1!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
pitchhorrorweek · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hey Ghouls & Gremlins... Miss me?
Can you believe that this is the third year that we've had the honor of hosting Pitch Perfect Horror Week? Yeah, us either. It turns out 2021 was just as chaotic as 2020- and while we thrive on the stuff, we're shocked we've made it!
This post here? This is your official schedule announcement for September and October of this year. We want you guys to have enough time to craft your magnificent and malignant art/fics/ headcanons!
So, here's how this will work...
September 5th (09/05/2021)- Submissions officially open
September 25th (09/25/2021)- Submissions officially Close
October 5th (10/05/2021)- Official Prompts are released
October 25th- October 31st (10/25/2021-10/31/2021)- Third Annual Pitch Perfect Horror Week
As always, if anything changes, or if you have any questions, you can contact us through the "Q & A" Button at the top of the page. More exciting, skin-crawling, blood-sucking, information coming soon.
92 notes · View notes
falling-forever-in-a-hole · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Thankyou @softforqiankun for betaing.
Thankyou @inversetwilight and @accio-sense for the idea bouncing and shit again.
45 notes · View notes
becaeffingmitchell · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Bemily Week Day 2 - Secret Agent & Day 5 - Superpowers
AND
Pitch Perfect Horror Week Day 1 - Cults
Beca's always been able to see and hear dead people. A traumatizing and inconvenient ability, sure, but after years of dealing with ghosts and learning to control her powers to help out her occult-obsessed friend Stacie and her tacky medium business, she's got somewhat of a handle on the situation.
That is, until a particular, persistent, motormouth ghost drags Beca into an absolutely chaotic shitshow — full of doomsday death cults, black budget supernatural investigators, blood rituals, and several near-death experiences — that she really didn't fucking ask for.
[ao3 link]
20 notes · View notes
kendrickslmanburg · 4 years ago
Text
The Life Long case of the Cult in the woods of Atlanta
Rating:
Mature
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
Multi
Fandom:
Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Relationship:
Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Characters:
Flo Fuentes
Fat Amy (Pitch Perfect)
Beca Mitchell
Chloe Beale
Aubrey Posen
Bumper Allen (Mentioned)
Alice (mentioned)
jessica and ashley (mentioned)
Additional Tags:
Cults
mentions of traumatizing past
Human Sacrifice
Mentions of Violence and Gore
Language: English
SUMMARY: Detective Flo Fuentes and Crime Investigator Patricia “Amy” Hobart go under investigation to check out a reopened investigation in the woods.
READ ON AO3
15 notes · View notes
Text
Hello lovelies, just a quick note to say that there's a chance the last 2 fics of Horror Week are going to be a little late, I'm endeavouring to get them out on time but I still haven't finished day 6 yet and I will have very little if any writing time tomorrow, but rest assured they are coming!!!
7 notes · View notes
emilyjunk · 5 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Pitch Perfect Horror Week - Day 7: Haunted Circus Carnival
Day 7 Summary: The Bellas head to a Copenhagen carnival to celebrate their victory at Worlds. Despite their deal, the DSM vampires aren’t willing to let Beca and Emily escape without a fight. Cornered in the creepy fun house, Beca and Emily must fight for their lives or risk losing the Bellas forever. The stakes are at their highest in this creepy carnival showdown.
Read on AO3: [Day1] [Day2] [Day3] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7]
Thank you @pitchhorrorweek for putting this week together!! 🦇🧛‍♀️💜
32 notes · View notes
unholyhelbig · 5 years ago
Text
Red | #HW204
Prompt: Possession 
Summary:  Aubrey and Beca take their youngest daughter to a child Psychologist when weird things start happening around their new house.
Read on Ao3 Here!
Aubrey Posen had expected a lot more from the tiny office that rested on the third floor of a business park. The door had a frosted glass pane with fancy gold writing and dark stained wood, but the little waiting room that rested right behind it was cold and dark. It made her skin itch. This place was meant for children- wasn’t it?
The only indication that anyone younger than fifty-four attended sessions here was a small box sandwiched between two leather upholstered chairs. It was a forest green and contained a couple of picture books and markers that had long ago run out of ink. Aubrey instinctively pulled her daughter flush against her and passed her a phone to keep her occupied while Beca checked them in.
Her wife was just as nervous as she was, though, she hid it better. Beca had always been the positive one in the relationship. Though they both saw the world through the same colored glass, Beca admired while Aubrey shattered. She had a way with her words and made the unpleasant receptionist crack a charming smile.
Beca said a few more things that she couldn’t hear over the low hum of the game that Marley had stumbled upon. It was something with bright colors to captivate her, other than the slate grey walls and dying plant in the corner. It needed to be watered. 
Beca finally flopped down into the chair next to them. She smiled nervously at their daughter, who had the same stormy blue eyes. She smelled of melted snow and vanilla lip balm. She had grabbed one of the informational pamphlets from the counter; Your child and their emotions.
What it really boiled down to was ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions that ruled out if Marley was a sociopath. Aubrey didn’t want to look at it and Beca shoved it into the pocket of her coat, blanching because she had realized her mistake. Their daughter had switched to another app on Aubrey’s phone.
“What are you coloring, Monkey?” Beca asked, trying to keep things light.
“A tree,”
“That’s neat. Can I see it?”
Marley nodded with a wide grin and passed the phone over to her mother. Beca zoomed out on the picture; it was a nice scene that reminded them fondly of the home they had moved into a few months ago. While it was still summer, Beca had put up a tire swing much to Aubrey’s safety objections.
The photo had a white picket fence and a large oak like the one in their front yard. It didn’t have a tire swing, but two long sections of rope connecting a plank of wood to one of the limbs of the tree. Beca let out a silent sigh of relief. It looked fairly normal. She praised Marley and handed the phone back.
Aubrey shrugged apprehensively at her and gave a weak smile. Maybe things would be alright. Though, both of them were thinking, as they breathed in stale office air, that they weren’t going to be. They had been to a couple of specialists that lead them here. Doctor Beale was one of the top-rated child Psychologists in the area.
“The Posen’s?” They had all glanced up at once, Marley quickly going back to her coloring while both parents stood from the seats. The leather made too much noise and Beca glanced back at it nervously before her cheeks blanched.
A woman with a mane of copper hair stood in the vacant hallway. She was dressed casually in a navy blue sweater and a pair of black slacks. She had a kind face and striking ocean eyes. Aubrey instantly relaxed in her presence and forgot about the state of the office in an instant.
“I’m Beca,” her wife extended a hand first “This is my wife Aubrey, but you probably already knew that.”
Chloe chuckled sweetly “Yes, I did. And this must be Marley?”
Their daughter was shy. She had abandoned the task on her phone and clung to Beca’s pant leg instead. She blinked up at the pretty stranger and tucked her face into the fabric. Doctor Beale didn’t’ seem deterred by this at all.
“If you guys would like to follow me, we can get started.” Chloe didn’t’ wait for an answer. Instead, she turned and they began to walk down a hallway that was much like the main lobby- devoid of color. Beca had scooped Marley up, she pressed her cold nose against the nave of her neck. “I’m assuming you haven’t done this before?”
“No, never,” Aubrey answered.
They passed a few doors that were the same solid oak as the one upfront. They had been to a lot of pediatricians, and neurologists. Neither of them could find anything wrong physically. They had had a long conversation about mental health before they were pushed in this direction.
All four of them stopped in front of another similar door. This one, Doctor Beale, had keys to. She turned the lock and pushed it open. The lack of color in the waiting room had been culminated and thrown in here; it was a large room with every type of toy and art supply imaginable.
The walls were a friendly yellow and little foam puzzle pieces made the flooring under their feet malleable. Beca’s mouth was propped open almost as wide as Marley’s and Aubrey couldn’t help but smile easily at that. There was a large mirror propped up on the side of the wall and posters of animals and mountains around the space that hadn’t been taken up.
“She can play for a while if she wants, we still have a few things to discuss before we start.”
Marley still looked apprehensive, so Beca worked her usual magic. She had a soft, yet commanding voice. “Marls, do you want to play for a couple of minutes?” Their daughter whimpered and dug her nose further into her neck “Oh, come on now, look at all those cars. Don’t you want to check them out?”
It took a couple more seconds, but she eventually let Beca set her down before moving over to the large rug in the corner that had a grid of maps stitched into its fabric. She quickly grasped at a white matchbox car and started driving it around the sharp corners. Chloe leads them closer to the door without exiting into the hallway.
“Which one of you is Marley more comfortable with?” Chloe asked in a hushed tone.
Beca made her stance rigid while Aubrey lifted her chin towards her wife. “She’s the fun mom.”
“Right,” Chloe smiled despite herself “Beca, would you be alright with staying here with Marley while Aubrey and I watch from the other room?”
“Sure?” She shrugged apprehensively “You just want us to play?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do. The biggest thing we can do here is observe her behavior. From what I’ve seen so far she’s a normal, highly functioning five-year-old. From what your file describes, that tends to change drastically in certain situations. Am I correct?”
Aubrey had suddenly gotten cold in the small little room. Yes, Chloe Beale was right more than she would like to admit. Their daughter was a sweet and loving girl. She was outgoing and confident, but every aspect of that could flip on a dime.
“We thought it was because of the move,” Beca sounded out, looking over at Marley. She had grabbed another car from the shelf and slammed them both together, making a crashing sound “But she’s gotten violent.”
“She hears voices,” Aubrey said.
“Voices?”
“We chalked it up to an overactive imagination at first. Both of us were so tired from fixing the place up that we didn’t’ see the warning signs, I guess. She didn’t like her room. She said that was a tall man with a funny hat that would bother her at night.”
Chloe nodded and shoved her hands into her pockets as she had suddenly gotten cold as well. “Has this stopped?”
“Eventually she didn’t talk about it anymore.” Beca explained “We thought we were doing the right thing by making her stay in there instead of sleeping in bed with us. But that’s when the weird behavior started.”
“What kind of weird behavior is she exhibiting?”
Aubrey looked over at the young girl as she played with a few more cars. She had created a traffic jam and spoke silently under her breath. They couldn’t hear what words she had been forming and Aubrey figured that that was a good thing.
“She gets this vacant look in her eyes sometimes… that’s all it was at first, and we thought she was just getting distracted. She started standing at the foot of our bed and just staring, for hours.”
Chloe quirked a brow “You set up camera’s?”
“We had no choice. Things were vanishing around the house, expensive things like power tools and then little things like keys. We had just moved in so we figured we might have an intruder or something. But it was Marley every single time. That’s why we decided to get her checked.”
The psychologist thought for what seemed like a while, they listened to the squeaking of the car wheels and Beca started to trace her eyes along the posters. She felt like she was in trouble. Instead, she was seeking help.
“Right. Aubrey, if you would come with me.” The woman nodded and glanced at her daughter for a sparing moment “Beca you just have to keep Marley playing. If you can, direct her to the little table in the corner.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” She said nervously.
“Good. Is there any way you can get her to talk about her room?”
This would be a little more difficult, but she nodded nevertheless. Beca knelt down next to Marley and pointed to the nearest car with question in her eyes. Aubrey watched for a few more moments before Chloe touched her shoulder gently and navigated her back into the depressing hallway.
They walked a couple more feet to the next door. This one, Chloe didn’t’ need a key to; it was smaller and darker than the lobby and the colder than the room they had just exited. There were two chairs facing a glass window and a little table that attempted to be spruced up with bottled water and a plant that was in even worse condition than the one she had seen before.
Aubrey wandered up to the window and stared through the glass. It was in the same position as the mirror had been. She could see her wife and daughter talking quietly by the rug that they had left them at. The psychologist took a seat in one of the chairs and waited for Aubrey to do the same.
“This doesn’t feel a bit… invasive to you?” Aubrey sat down, the wood was frigid.
“I’m a psychologist, Mrs. Posen, it’s my job to be invasive. We need to figure out what’s spurring your daughter's recent behavior.”
Aubrey supposed that’s why they had paid for the hour. She was hypocritical, worrying about sitting behind two way glass when they hid a camera between the stuffed animals on Marley’s dresser. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched carefully. Beca had somehow coaxed their daughter to the small table closest to the wall.
She went to the wall and grabbed a handful of markers and paper before struggling to sit in one of the little chairs. Her knees were nearly up to her ears, and in any other situation, Aubrey would have laughed.
Beca uncapped a brown marker first. She started to sketch the outline of a tree, stretching it to the top of the paper. It was nearly identical to the photo that Marley had been coloring earlier. She began to use that classic charm of hers.
“This looks kind of like the tree out front, huh?”
Marley was focused on dragging a navy marker against the page “Mm-hm,”
“Do you like the new house, Marls?”
Their daughter stopped the tip of the marker, and a large circle of ink started to spill from the hard-pressed gesture. She frowned and drew in a shallow breath. Beca had stopped coloring too. She watched with apprehension like they were sitting at the kitchen table once more- a steak knife within reach for them both.
“Was that fear?” Aubrey asked, sinking further into her seat. Her mouth was dry and it would have been easy to reach to her left for one of those water bottles, but she didn’t.
“No, it was anger. Does she get that look often?”
“Everyday.”
Beca slowly brought her eyes back down to the paper and started to color in the sun at the corner of the page. She was pressing too hard, hard enough to almost rip the paper. It was like she could taste the charged energy in the room.
“The house is nice. I like my room. I didn’t, but I do now.”
Marley never took her eyes away from the woman. She was speaking through a clenched jaw. Aubrey didn’t even know that a child could do that, that they had enough stress to show it like this. She understood nightmares and normal phobia’s, but this felt too… adult.
Chloe was writing something down on her notepad, but she leaned forward in her seat as if they were watching a movie. Aubrey could read the sudden fear that rolled in waves off of Beca. This wasn’t her normal energy, and Marley smiled wickedly at this.
“Yeah? Do you… still see that man?”
Beca had pushed it as far as she could. She had abandoned her picture altogether and focused her entire attention on their daughter. These past few months had been filled with exhaustion and odd fear, and prying sharp objects from little fingers.
One of them had slept in the rocking chair by the door each night. It was uncomfortable and made them stiff, but they had a keen eye on the door to their bedroom. That same steak knife that was nearly grasped from the table earlier had been close to Aubrey’s throat one night. She woke to the feeling of cold metal and then a thin line of warm blood.
They hadn’t told Chloe that. It wouldn’t be in the file that she had gotten of them. Everything else had been disclosed but that one night, the night that scared them the most would remain right where it was forever.
Marley nodded slowly, “He’s my friend. I like his hat.”
“What does the hat look like?” Marley squints her eyes, and Beca tried again “Can you show me?”
Marley looked down at the art supplies in front of her. It was a random pile of markers and a few colored pencils. She grabbed a clean sheet of paper and searched over her options with new vigor. She had been given a task and Beca was watching her with keen eyes.
“No, I can’t do it.” She whispered with frustration.
“Why not, sweetie?”
Marley slammed her little hand down on the table and the markers and pencils and little cup that held them jumped with the extra force. Beca tensed up her shoulders but figured quickly that this was better than something being thrown across the room.
“There’s no red.” She growled out, gripping the cheap plastic table “I can’t draw my friend if there’s no red. It’s his favorite color, he’s always wearing it.”
“I can get you a red, Marley,”
“No. It’s too late.” Their daughter glanced up from the white paper, her eyes filled with that same primal anger as the night with the knife. Marley turned her eyes towards the mirror and Aubrey felt herself freeze. Chloe gripped the note pad until little dents marked the lines neatly.
Marley moved her small little finger against the length of her neck, somehow staring directly at Aubrey with a vacant expression and a truly vile expression. “He has red here. He has red everywhere.”
15 notes · View notes
snowglobe-art · 7 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
(Not fic hope that’s fine)
434 notes · View notes
luckyfaeth · 7 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
pitch perfect horror week // day one: who done it? (bellas inc. au)
The chaotic, determined team of Chloe, Emily, Stacie, Aubrey, and Beca banded together years ago to form a premier, supernatural investigation team called Bellas Inc. After a summer full of investigating nothing but false alarms, the Bellas head home. But on their way back to Atlanta, they stumble upon a case that might have more in store than meets the eye. 
The Bellas delve deep into investigating the murder of a bride and a haunted wedding gown, facing adversity that could threaten the bounds of the supernatural as they know it (or worse, their relationship).
99 notes · View notes
pyrewrites · 7 years ago
Text
The Ghost in the Basement
Read it on Ao3
“Remind me again how I let you assholes talk me into doing a group costume.” Beca grumbled as she stood in front of the mirror. She stared at the horrifying image in front of her. Her reflection. Beca Mitchell, the so-called 'cranky badass' Bella, stood wearing coke-bottle glasses, a god awful orange turtleneck sweater, an ugly brownish red skirt, knee-high socks that matched the sweater, and shoes that matched the skirt. She found herself wishing that the lenses in her glasses were as strong as they would be on the character she was dressed as so she wouldn't be able to see how ridiculous she looked.
“Because your awesome beyond reason best friend asked you to.” Amy said matter-of-factly from her position on her own bed.
Beca glanced at the Australians reflection over her shoulder. “And how the hell did you get away with not wearing a costume as part of this alleged group costume you scammed me into?”
“This is my costume.” Amy tugged at the bright blue collar around her neck.
“You so suck.” Beca grumbled again.
“You two almost ready?” Jessica said as she trotted up the stairs. She was wearing a white v-neck sweater over a blue button-up shirt with an orange scarf around her neck and blue slacks.
“Yeah. Hurry up. The Trebles party started like an hour ago. We are way beyond fashionably late already.” Ashley added. Her green t-shirt and brown pants looking almost as much like a 'costume' as Amy's collar.
“I am not even close to ready to be seen in public in this get-up.” Beca said as she pushed her way by them on her way down the stairs. “But my costume is done. Who the hell are we even supposed to be? Chloe just handed me all this shit and told me to put it on.”
“We are the Scooby-Doo gang, silly.” The aforementioned redhead said as she swung around the corner coming out of her room.
Beca's heart was suddenly having a hard time beating with any regular rhythm. The form-fitting, curve-hugging purple dress and lavender leggings Chloe was wearing made Beca start to consider that maybe this group costume thing wasn't such a stupid idea after all.
“Now let's gather everybody up and go get our party on!” Chloe squealed.
The group started down the hall to fetch the rest of the Bellas as quickly as possible. Starting with Stacie.
“Hey Stretch, you ready to go?” Beca called as they entered her and Cynthia Rose's room. Beca spun around to leave as soon as her eyes landed on the leggy brunette in what appeared to be nothing but lingerie. “What the hell Stace? Why don't you have your costume on?”
“This is my costume.” Beca could hear the shit-eating gin in her voice. “I'm Madonna when she did 'Like A Virgin' live on MTV. White lingerie and a veil.”
“Jesus Christ Stacie.” Beca said inching her way towards the hall.
“I think it looks goo-” Chloe stopped short when all the lights in the house went out.
Someone screamed, probably Jessica or Ashley. Then a scream that would have made Vincent Price proud, and unmistakably Stacie, ripped through the darkness.
“Stacie? What the fuck is going on?” Beca shouted. There was no answer, but Beca jumped when she felt a hand grab hers in the dark.
“Beca?” Chloe's voice shook and Beca felt an accompanying squeeze from the hand holding hers.
“Yeah, Chlo. I'm right here.” Beca said, pulling the redhead close.
The lights came back on, pulling another, shorter scream from both Jessica and Ashley.
“Stacie?” Chloe called out. The five of them faced into the empty room.
“The fuck?” Amy said. “There's no way she could have gotten out the door with all us here.”
“And her window is still closed. Plus she would have to jump all the way to the ground since there's nothing to climb out there.” Jessica offered.
“Then where the fuck is she?” Beca grumbled.
“Maybe it was the ghost from the basement?” Ashley said with panic in her eyes, pressing herself against Jessica.
“Oh don't you start.” Beca snapped.
“You were the one that said the basement was haunted Becs.” Amy said.
“It's also Halloween and she is probably just fucking with us.” Beca said while squeezing Chloe's hand because she didn't entirely believe her own words. “Let's just get the rest of the girls and Stacie can catch up when she gets bored of this little game.”
The group turned back to the hall and headed for Flo and Lily's room. They had only made it three steps down the hall when a figure in black hooded robes carrying a scythe stepped out in front of them. They all screamed and jumped back, nearly ending up in a heap as they tripped over each other. The figure turned slowly to take them in. It reached up and pulled the hood back.
Lily smiled at them from inside the hood. They all saw her lips move but none of them heard what she said. She turned and started down the stairs, her steps and the thumping of the scythe making more noise than her voice ever did. She was less than halfway down when they lights went out again. The group screamed again.
When silence descended again Beca realized she did not hear the sound of Lily on the stairs or walking across the living room.
“Lily?” Beca called into the inky blackness. “If you're there, like knock that stick against the floor or something.”
Nothing.
Beca felt Chloe press up against her back. She could feel the redhead shaking. She squeezed her hand again trying to calm them both down.
“Lily?” Jessica tried.
Still nothing.
The lights sprang back to life, earning another batch of screams.
“What the hell is going on with the lights?” Flo said as she came out of her bedroom. “I feel like I'm back home when the cartels and the police start dealing with people that try to protest.”
“It's the ghost from the basement.” Ashley said quickly before anyone else could offer a better explanation.
“It's not a ghost. It's Halloween and somebody decided to try to scare us before we made it to the party.” Beca said.
“You know the barrier between the land of the living and the dead is at it's weakest right now.” Flo said. “Dia de Los Muertos starts today when all our ancestors come back to visit. If it is a ghost this would be when it would be most powerf-”
She stopped when the lights went out again.
“Ay Dios Mio!” Flo screamed. Then the house went silent again.
“Motherfucker!” Beca shouted.
When the lights came back on the Pink Ladies jacket that was part of Flo's Grease costume was in a pile on the floor where she had been standing.
“Which one-a you bitches keep turning out the lights?” Cynthia-Rose shouted from somewhere downstairs. “I'm trying to eat something before the party and this shit's getting annoying.”
And as if on cue the lights went out again.
“Aw hell no!” Cynthia-Rose shouted. Followed by sounds of a struggle and chairs hitting the floor. Then silence.
“Fuck!” Beca snapped.
The instant the lights came back on they ran for the kitchen. They found several chairs overturned, a half-eaten sandwich, and a Diet Pepsi slowly pooling on the table. Ashley seemed to be in shock by this point because she grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the spilled soda, then began righting the chairs. She didn't even react when there was a loud crash from the basement.
“It's the ghost.” Ashley mumbled.
“What if we just head to the party and leave the ghost to be loud and stuff for the rest of the night?” Amy offered.
Again, as if on cue, screaming started coming from the basement. After several seconds individual voices could be identified. All the missing Bellas were screaming for help from behind the basement door.
“Anybody? I'm ready to go to the party.” Amy said as she inched towards the back door.
“Amy!” Chloe snapped. “We have to save our friends from...whatever this is.”
“Fine.” Amy huffed. “But I'm not going down there without a weapon.”
“That's a good idea!” Jessica said.
“Yeah. It is.” Chloe said as she grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door.
“Really Chlo?” Beca cocked an eyebrow.
“What are you going to use? It's not like we have an arsenal in the house.” Chloe said. “At least without going into Lily's closet.”
“Something better than an umbrella.” Beca said as she picked up Stacie's lacrosse stick. “The only way that will be useful is if the ghost conjures up a raincloud.”
“Hey, guys?” Jessica called. “Ash is kinda out of it. I think I should stay here and keep an eye on her.”
“Good idea Jess.” Chloe said. “Amy, you ready?”
“Bet your sweet ass I am.” Amy said swinging a crowbar that she seemed to have pulled out of thin air.
“What...where...how...you know what? Never mind.” Beca said. “Let's get this shit over with.”
The three of them crept towards the basement door. The screams continued and were joined by crashes and thumps. Beca slowly pulled open the door, the hinges screeching nearly as loud as the increased volume of the screaming. She reached out with the lacrosse stick and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. She flipped it several more times, all to no avail.
“Chlo?” Beca said without taking her eyes off the darkness in front of her. Without having to say another work Chloe's cellphone flashlight came on over her shoulder.
“Ready?” Beca whispered.
“Mhmm,” was Chloe's only reply.
Beca started down the stairs with Chloe virtually glued to her back. The moment Chloe's foot left the surface of the first step the door slammed behind them.
“Hey!” Beca screamed, throwing herself against the door. She tried the knob, pounded on the door, kicked it, even yelled at it. But nothing worked. “Amy! Get us out of here!”
“I'm trying!” Amy shouted back. “Good thing I've got the crowbar. Go get the girls. With luck, I'll have this thing open by the time you're done.”
“Shit.” Beca mumbled. “You ok Red?”
“Yeah. Just locked in a haunted basement about to be murdered.” Chloe sighed.
“I am so going to beat the shit out of this ghost or whatever the hell is down here.” Beca grumbled as she started back down the stairs.
The screaming only got louder the closer they got to the bottom of the stairs. As soon as the could see into the room Chloe started swinging her flashlight around the room.
“What the fuck?” Beca said as they saw no sign of anyone in the room, but the screaming continued unabated.
They crept around the bottom of the stairs, Chloe's flashlight panning over every inch of the room much slower this time, until they finally spotted it. A cd boombox with an orange, pumpkin-shaped post-it note on it.
Beca quickly walked over and punched the stop button and the room dropped into silence. She grabbed the note and read it aloud once Chloe had brought her the light.
“Dear Bhloe, we will let you out as soon as you admit you are in love with each other. Signed, The Bellas.” Beca rolled her eyes and stormed back to the stairs. “Oh fuck all of you!” She screamed.
She was answered by a chorus of laughter.
“Fine. Stay down there all night if you want.” Came Stacie's voice through the door.
“Beca.” Chloe said coming up behind her. “Would it really kill you to go up there and say it so we can go to the party?”
“Seriously?” Beca said. “You've seen how much shit they have given me over the last 3 years about this. If I go up there and say it they will never let me hear the end of it.”
“Hey, Chloe?” Ashley's voice now. “If she admits it you can text one of us and we will come back from the party.”
They heard another round of laughter retreating from the basement door, then they heard the front door slam. They saw shadows moving across the basement windows as the girls headed towards the Treble house.
“If one of you aca-bitches don't come back here and let us out right now you are all doing nothing but cardio for every rehearsal for a week!” Beca screamed at the window.
They heard the girls voices fade until all they could hear was the music coming from next door at the party.
“Was that really necessary?” Chloe stood with her arms crossed.
“Completely.” Beca smirked as she screwed the lightbulb back into the socket bathing the room in light. “And we aren't really stuck down here. I removed the screen from the window over the dryer the first time I got stuck down here when the door got stuck when I was home alone sophomore year.”
“You threatened them with cardio instead of biting the bullet and just saying you had feelings for me.” Chloe said still looking hurt.
“Yeah, I did.” Beca grinned. “It's almost 7 and I don't expect any of them to come home until at least 2 AM. Especially if they think I am down here dying of embarrassment. That gives me at least 7 uninterrupted hours to spend with my girlfriend.”
“You are such a brat.” Chloe said as she wrapped her arms around the woman she had secretly been dating for exactly a year. “Sooner or later we are going to have to tell them.”
“Sooner or later. But I think this is more fun. They all think they know something I don't. It's nice finally being the one that knows something they don't.” Beca smiled as she kissed the woman she was about to finally tell she was in love with her.
“You are such a child.” Chloe giggled when they finally broke apart.
“Yeah but you love me.” Beca smiled softly.
“Yeah. I really do.” Chloe breathed.
“I love you too Chlo.” Beca said before her brain could get in the way.
Chloe's eyes lit up and filled with tears all at once.
“Happy Anniversary.” Beca whispered as Chloe pulled her into another kiss.
Outside the window, beneath the breaker box, Emily had to clap her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing. She rolled away from the window, got to her feet, and ran for the party to tell the rest of the girls the good news.
37 notes · View notes
snowonebutyou · 7 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pitch Perfect Horror Week - Day 4: The Chosen One Two
Even after dying and coming back to life (thanks Jesse), Chloe never thought she’d ever get to share her destiny. She was, after all, the Slayer. The Chosen One or whatever. But destiny’s a fucked up thing anyway and it brings Beca Mitchell, a fellow Slayer, into her life and suddenly having to save the world on a daily basis doesn’t seem like a burden anymore.
fic // playlist // other fic related material
24 notes · View notes
pitchhorrorweek · 4 years ago
Text
THEME SUBMISSIONS [CLOSED]
Hey Gremlin's and Ghouls... as promised here is your official chance to submit any spooky themes that you want to see this year! Remember, this is no small feat, for you are to decide the course of 2021 Horror Week!
Tumblr media
Below you’ll find the link to this year’s survey for our annual horror week!
Here are our guidelines:
1.) Please be creative: While we enjoy prompts such as soulmates and coffee shop au’s there is something to be said about the amount that are out there! Horror week is a chance to get creepy and freaky. We’re looking for stuff a little on the darker side. That being said, when submitting prompts please don’t use one word phrases like: Witches & Werewolves. Give us a little spice!
2.) Nothing too gory: We promise we’re not contradicting here. We’re looking for prompts that terrify and excite, not something that will make you sick to your stomach. While shock factor is something used in Horror since the beginning of time, it’s not necessarily what we’re searching for.
3.) Credit the creators:  You’re more than welcome to suggest prompts that you find on tumblr or any other site, just make sure you credit them within the submission so the admins know who to cite at the end of the day.
4.) No apocalypse/ Pandemic Au’s: Alright, so this is a fairly new rule. But we wont be accepting anything remotely related to the pandemic. This has continued (Expectantly, and unexpectant) through 2021. We want to stay away from that touchy subject... but if your prompt is good enough, we may make an exception!
YOU CAN FILL OUT THE SURVEY HERE
Oh, and if you're looking for general inspiration, you can find the links to the previous three years' themes, as well as a fantastic treasure trove of creations.
[2018, 2019, 2020]
48 notes · View notes
falling-forever-in-a-hole · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Thankyou @softforqiankun for betaing. Thankyou @inversetwilight, @accio-sense and @143bc for everything you do.
27 notes · View notes
ckm-writes · 7 years ago
Text
Rating:
General Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
F/F
Fandom:
Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Characters:
Stacie Conrad, Aubrey Posen, Chloe Beale, Fat Amy, Beca Mitchell
Additional Tags:
Comedy,Mystery, Scooby-Doo References
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of the PPHW: Things That Make You Go Eeeeek! series
2 notes · View notes