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#and i love how the ghosts get scarier and the stake of it all
sideralatheneum · 1 year
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Yesterday I finished the hollow boy and oh god I am DISTRAUGHT
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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years
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Incorrect Order Chapter 6 (Nessian AU)
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A/N: I'm sooo sorry I haven't been updated in more than two weeks. I had exams :/ Also, do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!
Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.
Trigger Warnings: Language
1572 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smile Cassian plastered on his face didn’t reach his eyes. His brothers saw that. Feyre and Elain saw that. Mor and Amren knew that. He himself did. But they didn’t say anything. If it weren’t Feyre’s anniversary, he would’ve even gone home. He couldn’t though. He wouldn’t do anything that would hurt his family. So he stayed. Smiled. Joked. Laughed. Did everything he could to keep his mind from straying to a grey-eyed masterpiece.
Az and Rhys saw, he knew. They always seemed to realise everything about each other. Even if one of them had a minor headache, the other two would know. Tonight, however, none of them pushed him. They probably thought he wanted to be alone. But did he? Truly?
He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to be alone. That would make memories of their lunch rise. Of her shirt splattered with coffee on one day and blood on another. Of her pale form laying on his bed. Of her, enjoying his food. Of their shared jokes. He didn’t think he could take that.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to be around people either. He didn’t know if he could stay around people who laughed and teased. He didn’t know if he could laugh with them and actually mean it. He didn’t know if he could anytime soon.
Cass glanced at the clock. 3.00 a.m. He smiled. Whenever they gathered around in the living room, retiring early was totally off the table. The earliest they dispersed was four in the morning.
To his right, Rhys sighed. “It’s late,” he said, tucking Feyre close to his side. “Gotta go to bed.”
He smirked, but held back the joke on the tip of his tongue. After a chorus of goodnights, Rhys and Feyre told them they could stay here tonight if they wanted to and rose to go upstairs. Feyre laughed at something Rhys said and Cass felt a pang of sadness hit him.
Sadness… and something else. He knew he shouldn’t, but he envied the both of them. How easily they bantered and teased. How smooth their relationship was. He remembered how Feyre locked herself in the cabin after Rhys proposed. He remembered how she asked Mor not to let anyone in, especially Rhys. He sighed. He felt an amount of the jealousy dissipate. Probably Nesta would get together with him after their slight misunderstanding passed. If it did.
He got up to leave when Az stopped him. “You sure you’re going back?” Cass didn’t remember telling Az that he was going back. Then again he didn't need to. Az always saw everything. “You're not that… somber.”
Ah. Cass smiled. “I'll be fine, ” he reassured. Az still didn't let him go. “I'll send you a text once I'm home,” he tried. Az sighed.
“I'll be waiting for it.”
Cass looked at Mor, drunk and blabbering before stepping out of the house. He kept replaying that memory till he reached home, keeping his mind occupied. He was scared of what would happen if he kept his thoughts idle.
He informed Az that he reached home. He didn't know why going back home felt like preparing for a battle. It probably was a battle. Between her and his self-restraint. What was at stake here was his sanity. Cass sighed. He stepped in through the threshold and welcomed the darkness that enveloped him.
***
Stop crying like a baby, Nesta repeatedly reminded herself. Why should she cry? Nothing here was her fault. Nothing.
Not the fact that she let his charmed smiles bring her guards down. Not the fact that she felt alive when he said something stupidly funny. Certainly not the fact that she was slowly falling for him.
None of it was her fault. So why should she cry? Why should she stop herself from attending her own sister's anniversary? When it was all his fault.
She shouldn't be crying. She should be thinking about ways of exploiting his weaknesses. She should think about how she would portray him as the weak one. She should think about how she was going to make him regret everything.
But how could she make him regret it when she never regretted a second of it? She hated that this was where her thoughts went first. To scheming and plotting. She thought she changed. Did she regret her wish to be good? No. She reveled in it. No, she vowed herself, I would not scheme to make him beg. I'm not that Nesta anymore. I'll never be.
She was proud of herself. She never realised her self restraint was this good.
But apparently not good enough. Her thoughts drifted back to him. No, not him. Cassian. Cauldron, it'll take some time to get used to calling him Cassian. Or maybe Cass. Feyre and Rhysand called him that. Probably she would too. She thought about what he called her. Nes. She flushed. That stupid name did stupid things to her. She pretended she didn't like it. In fact, she loved it. Somehow, she wasn't ready to tell him that yet.
***
Nesta blinked open her eyes against the morning light. Her eyes were closed? It was morning already? Huh.
It took her some time for her eyes to adjust. She screamed at what she saw. Nesta scrambled back from the looming figure of Tomas, leering at her face.
“Nesta, Nesta, ” he said in his eerie voice. It became scarier with his sing-song tone. “My Nesta.” He paused. “Though I suppose you aren't mine anymore. You were still mine last time, you know. When you handed me over to the police. ”
She bared her teeth, opened her mouth to say something when his hand closed around her throat.
“But now, I suppose I can't call you mine anymore, can I? That reminds me. Where is your bodyguard? Or is that brute your boyfriend?” He spat the last word. His hand tightened around her neck.
“Do you know what he did to me? Your bastard. Did you know how he threatened me? Did you know that he smashed my bones, that it took me this long to heal?”
Some sort of savage satisfaction filled her. The fact that Cassian did all this… she smirked. It didn't go unnoticed by Tomas. He growled, the sound sending icy fingers ghosting down her spine. She hoped she didn't have to hear it again.
His hand around her throat pushed her farther back on the bed. He drew back, she let loose a relieved breath. A mistake.
His hand cracked on her cheek. He came infinitely closer to her, his hot, rancid breath glancing off her cheeks. His hand kept tightening around her throat and she wondered how she wasn’t dead yet. It was certainly bruised now.
“Look at you. So vulnerable. So killable. I’ve imagined how I would slit your throat. So many ideas. If only I could kill you in all the ways I imagined. But do you know what is the best way I could kill you?”
Nesta let him talk. He loved to hear himself talk. She subtly looked around her room, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. She looked back at Tomas. He wasn’t talking. Did he ask her a question?
“Tell me, Nesta. Do you know what is the best way to kill you?” Nesta shook her head, his hand pressed around her throat. Tomas smiled. She cringed mentally.
“I think the best way to kill you and make it hurt is to kill you slowly. You know what makes it better? Having that bastard watch you die. Let him watch the life seep out of you. And then I’ll kill him too.” he said and she felt the room closing in. Panic was slowly rising in her.
“Now, now,” he said. She supposed he meant to be cajoling but the effect his voice gave was the exact opposite. “There’s no need to panic. I told you I’ll kill you only when your bodyguard is there.”
He pulled out a knife. She gasped and pain erupted around her throat. Her lungs were burning.
“But darling,” he said. She whimpered. She hated this. She hated that she was vulnerable here. She hated that she couldn’t do anything when her death was slowly nearing. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Then his knife struck. Nothing hurt at first. Then, fiery pain whipped through her, beginning at her arm. She screamed. Pain. There was so much pain. She screamed so loud she pondered how the whole neighborhood didn’t hear anything.
***
Nesta gasped. Her eyes darted through her room. Nothing. No one. She looked at her arm. No pain. No scars. No blood. She touched her throat. It wasn’t sore. It wasn’t swollen. She got out of bed and looked at her mirror. No bruises. She let out a frustrated sound. It was a dream. A fucking dream. Or she supposed it was a nightmare. Still. It wasn’t real.
It was still five in the morning. Still quite early. She released a breath. She wouldn’t find a cab now but she could walk. It wasn’t that far. She fixed her hair and changed her clothes. She wasn’t going because she missed him. She just didn’t want to be vulnerable again. That’s all. She just wanted to know how to defend herself. Nothing else. So Nesta went to Cassian’s house, hoping that she’s making the right choice.
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make-it-mavis · 3 years
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Homesick (Entry #23)
01/09/88   5:17 AM
Hey.
Hey. Hi. Hello.
I know I’ve said this dozens of times already. But Devs, I don’t want to write this. It’s just a huge, chaotic web of bad, and I just get tangled up whenever I think about it. It just pulls me into a freakin’ mind spiral again. But there are a lot of things I should have told you. There are things that part of me wanted to tell you. I wanted to trust you with this. I wanted to tell you why I shut down and wouldn’t look at you. But I didn’t have time. Or, I guess I didn’t have the guts to do it while I still had time. I was afraid of what you’d say. Of what you’d do. But you can’t say or do anything anymore, so there’s not much at stake. I might as well tell you now.
I believed you were never really supposed to care about me.
I’ve always been pretty sure no one is. It’s just felt like part of my programming. And yeah, I know I adhere to my program the least of any sprite in this Dev-forsaken arcade, but this was different. I did not screw with this. I couldn’t risk getting it wrong. I’ve always had ample reason to believe that being the sort of Easter Egg that I am… more or less means I’m not made for love. Not the real kind, anyway, the kind that actually lasts. The Devs showed me that with their sweet little gamer angels. They love me when I’m new and novel, but the second they get bored, they drop me flat. Say you love me, use me, abuse me, and you’re gone. That’s the formula. It might seem harsh, and, I mean, it is harsh. I’ve been hurt too many times to count. But I adapted. It seemed pretty simple -- don’t give anyone the chance. Don’t get attached to anyone, and never believe anyone is attached to you. They might say they are, they might think they are, but they’re not. They’ll figure it out eventually. I learned this years ago, and I never forgot it.
I begged the question of myself, then, why did my stupid, masochistic, self-sabotaging ass deliberately ignore my own rules when I met you?
My code was constantly screaming that you would leave me if I didn’t leave you first. I could have done it. There were so many opportunities for me to walk away. Maybe we both would have been better off if I did. But I didn’t. I saw it happening, I saw us becoming friends, I felt us hit unsafe territory, and I chose to stay. If what we had was going to end, I decided that you would have to be the one to end it. 
You didn’t. Years went by, and you still didn’t end it.
For a long time, it really seemed like you wouldn’t leave after all. It really seemed like everything was going to be okay.
But then you cared about me.
You just had to go and actually care about me.
Look… I know a lot of this is stupid. It’s about to get even stupider. Now that I’m out of the thick of it, I can recognize a lot of my fears at the time to be ridiculous and irrational. Sometimes, it feels like I’m coming to a point where none of me believes it anymore. I know what happened to you, now. I’m starting to understand why it happened, too. But there are nights where the quiet gets to me. These thoughts come creeping back into my head, and they nibble away at my brain.
Most of the time, the pain I would feel over being abandoned felt like a sort of punishment from the Devs. Like they could see me trying to feel loved, despite being shown time and time again that I’m to stay out of that business entirely, and decided to scold me for it. I know it’s stupid. The Devs can’t see us. They can’t do anything to us. They just left me to run free with this crappy programming, and if I trip over it and bash my face in, that’s on me. I should know how to live with it. I’d like to think that I usually do.
But with you, I just… didn’t know what to do. You were different from anyone else I’d ever had to keep at arm’s length. You’d been the exception to so many rules in my life already. I wanted you to be the exception to this one, too. You know, I just… I wanted to pull you in. So badly. So, being stupid, arrogant, and reckless, I threw caution to the wind and broke the one rule I never broke.
So imagine how it must have looked on my end when, just like that, just as I let you in, you burned up.
I’ve been making my own semblance of peace with that concept, little by little. But, that night at Tapper’s, the pain felt like the Devs’ most horrific sort of punishment of all. It felt like they saw that I had the gall not to leave you, and that you weren’t going to leave me like you were supposed to, because you actually cared about me. So they intervened and ended our friendship for us. It felt like they took you away to keep me in line. It felt like you were paying for my mistake.
Just imagine, for a minute, feeling like your best friend’s death was your fault.
Maybe that will help you understand why I did what I did.
As I stood there in the bathroom stall that night, this revelation tore into my brain like a pack of hungry dogs. The muffled sounds from the bar faded, and I heard -- clear enough to make me jump -- vicious barking. 
This ghost audio cut in and out, and my brain thrummed with each hit, flashes of binary cutting through my vision. I clamped my hands hard over my ears, but I couldn’t shut it out. I just heard it all again. Loud and clear, I heard what that sicko screamed as she beat me.
“You knew this would happen! You could have stopped it! But you didn’t! You let this happen! Now he’s gone! For good! Forever! And that’s on you!
It’s on you!”
I couldn’t breathe. I’d started hyperventilating. My chest heaved wildly and my intentions for a scream came as airy whimpers. All the weight, everything I’d been carrying on my shoulders, bore down and brought me to the floor. Literally. The strength went out of me and I fell back against the stall door, slipping right down onto my ass. I stared at the tile between my feet and found it moving. My vision started to darken around the edges. I knew from unfortunate experience that I’d pass out if I didn’t do something.
So I grabbed my hat and breathed into it as deeply as I could. It just barely helped. Every time I’d start to regain control, my thoughts would spiral again and I’d be gasping. I was just gripped by this feeling of impending doom.
But then someone came in.
When I heard the door swing open, I froze. I almost stopped breathing entirely. I willed my heart to stop, too -- any sign of life that could indicate my presence. But none of that would have mattered. She could see me under the stalls.
Her footsteps stopped a little ways in, and it took a minute for her to say something. I don’t really remember what her voice sounded like, but I know she asked, “Are… you okay?”
I forced myself to take a few deep, steadying breaths, and leaned over to spit in the toilet. With all the strength I could summon, I got to my feet. “Had a bit too much,” I said in a regrettably shaky voice before I flushed away my fictional puke. “Go on and take your piss, I’m fine.”
She didn’t take much convincing. Once I heard her enter a stall, I left. I walked back into the bar room, drawing the gaze of the ever-present accusing eyes all around, without breaking stride. I didn’t care what they thought anymore. I wasn’t afraid. I thought I knew the truth, and it was scarier than all the arcade’s hatred put together.
Wreck-it was back in his stool by the time I got to our spot. I didn’t stay for chit-chat. I gave Tapper his drawing, accepted my pay, and told him I’d be back with another soon. With that, I said goodbye, and was on my way. Wreck-it fell in step behind me after a second, apparently under the impression that we were a unit that evening. I don’t remember if he said anything on the way back, but I certainly didn’t. Not until we were back on that pile of bricks.
I sat in my temporary nest, and he settled in by his stump. After a minute, he prodded awkwardly, “So… how did it feel to get out there again?”
I heard his words, but they meant nothing. They were just sounds demanding more sounds from me. So, automatically, I said, “Good. Thank you.”
He paused. “Wait, wait. Did you just thank me? You?”
I barely noticed the tears spilling down my face. I was frozen.
After receiving no sass, or any response at all, he muttered, “Well… You’re welcome. I’m glad it helped.”
He fell asleep shortly after.
I didn’t sleep at all.
I sat, quivering, for Devs know how long, hands clamped over my mouth, my whole body clenched so tight I could barely breathe, just desperately trying to keep quiet. My eyes wouldn’t close, they just stared blankly off into the dark and overflowed down onto my hands. There was a battle raging in my head, a last-ditch effort to remain in control. I was losing.
It was the first of many attempts to convince myself that you didn’t, in fact, give a crit about me.
I still do this. All the time. If I can believe you never cared, it’s easier. Then it’s your fault. Then I can be angry at you, and being angry is easy. You never cared about our friendship, because you never cared about a single thing but yourself. I was a toy to you, an object, a trophy. I was fun, I was pretty, I was something you had that no one else in the arcade could even lay a finger on, and you loved that. But it wasn’t me that mattered. It was your pleasure, your pride. You trashed me without hesitation. You’re the asshole. You left me behind. You did this to me. It’s your fault. All your fault. 
It didn’t work then, and it certainly doesn’t work now, knowing what I do.
I was so, so wrong to want proof that our friendship mattered to you. I have more of it now than I can handle, and I can never let it go. It’s not in a letter or a memento, something I can destroy and forget -- it’s in all my Dev-forsaken memories. I can see it in all the things we did together, the things you’d say, the way you treated me different from everyone else, in things I don’t have the heart to mention. 
I won’t say that those memories aren’t important to me. I won’t say that I really want to forget them. I will say that there are still nights where I think of each one, and I wonder if they were all nails in your proverbial coffin. At the time, I certainly believed they were.
Those memories assaulted my head as I sat there, woven into horrid echoes of barking and shouting and my own screaming.
I couldn’t stand it.
I just couldn’t stand this new reality I’d pieced together where it was my fault you were gone. I couldn’t stay in it a day longer. I needed to leave. I needed buffs -- not cutesy vanilla Boosts or Heals anymore, no. I didn’t need to blur reality, I needed to change it.
I needed Game Changers.
And, thanks to Tapper, I had the credits for it.
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justfandomwritings · 4 years
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Urban Legends (Part Three - Chris Beck)
Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k words
Warnings: none
Summary: (Y/n) Watney was something of an urban legend at NASA. Commander of the Ares I mission, (Y/n) was the first human to set foot on another planet. She heard names like Neil Armstrong and smirked. She was on her way to being the most famous astronaut in history, and she was determined to bring her brother along for the ride. She recommended Mark to Vincent Kapoor. She helped him get on the Ares III mission to Mars.
Her brother was stuck on Mars because of her, and she was determined to bring him home. 
After all, if he was the first human to die on another planet that would thoroughly steal her thunder; and she couldn’t have that.
Notes: sorry this took a minute. 
Start From the Beginning With… Part One
Previously On... Part Two
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There were a great many urban legends about ghosts, and (Y/n) knew them all. 
When she and Mark were still very young, they would go camping all the time with their parents. Donna and Barry Watney encouraged their children to be active and resourceful and would often drag the pair out to various national parks or rural regions of the country to try their hand in the great outdoors, an exploration-themed pastime they would take to the extreme later in life.
While they eventually found a love for it that took them out of this world, neither was particularly persuaded by the initial proposition. The two kids were only convinced to come along on their parents’ excursions because their parents always brought a telescope, and they took turns, away from the city lights, to look at the stars. 
They had contests to see who could name more of them, and their dad officiated the score. (Y/n) knew now that her dad had never taken an astronomy class, and thinking back on it she was pretty sure he just took it in turns to say which of them won the game that trip without any real thought. Not that she was complaining, she’d won the last time they all went camping together when she was fifteen, so as far as she was concerned she was the reigning champion forever.
(Y/n) and Mark made competitions of everything. If there was something to be done than there was something to be won. One of them would get a higher grade on the test. One of them would read more books. One of them would win their chess game. Hell, one of them would take out the garbage faster. No matter how obvious, no matter how suited, no matter how mundane, everything was a challenge to be won. Theirs was not a rivalry restricted to games. 
They were each other’s greatest foes, but also each other’s greatest fans.
Outside of House Watney, it was Mark and (Y/n) against the world. They could beat each other all they wanted, but the minute one of them lost to some outside force the other appeared, as if out of thin air. (Y/n) managed to figure out the password for a teacher’s computer and changed the scores at the science fair so her brother could beat Jason Richter for the first place prize. Mark once hiked four miles roundtrip, through woods in the dead of night, from his cabin at the boys’ summer camp to his sisters’ girls’ summer camp cabin on the other side of the park just to deliver (Y/n) his superior calculator to win a meaningless, trophyless math tournament.
Of course, no win was meaningless to the Watney siblings, especially not over each other. There was always a lot at stake. Bragging rights were always up for grabs, and teasing was incessant for the loser. 
On their camping trips, the competitive streak extended far beyond the telescope. Out in the wilderness, far away from books and internet, the pair would sit around a campfire seeing who could tell the scarier story.
They started out judging the competition on how scared the other person looked, but that had only led to arguments about who had more goosebumps or who’s eyes scanned the woods more often. Arguments made significantly worse by the fact that Mark was a much, much better actor than (Y/n), and therefore much better at hiding his fear. At their mother’s suggestion, they had turned to counting how much sleep the other person lost.
An ingenious suggestion on their mother’s part that (Y/n) would look on years later as an A+ parenting strategy. To begin, they both wanted to go to bed early, whether they were tired or not, so they could say they got more sleep than the other. Plus, sharing a tent, they couldn’t call the other person out on being awake without proving they were awake themselves, leading to many silent and peaceful nights in the campground. 
It took truly terrifying tales to get either of the Watney children to flinch in their pretense of sleep, and Mark had eventually, after years of stories, won the game with a ghost story he made up himself set in their very camp. 
(Y/n) remembered the moment she peaked out between her eyelids and saw her brother dozing. Clearly, genuinely asleep. 
It pained her to admit she was freaked out by his story, but she finally shook him awake and confessed.
“I don’t know where you heard about that girl or if it’s true, but I can’t sleep.” 
Mark had sympathetically patted the space next to him in his sleeping bag, and (Y/n) curled into her brother for protection. “Don’t worry, (Y/n),” he soothed. “It’s just an urban legend.”
He let her have her moment of weakness that night, but in the morning the victory dance was unbearable.
(Y/n) felt as though she was the one living the ghost story. Only this time, Mark wasn’t there to comfort her. He was the ghost. Her every waking moment was haunted and plagued by thoughts of him. 
When she woke up, she saw him sitting on the couch of her hotel room. When she got out of the shower, he was watching the tv she’d forgotten to turn off. When she got in her car, he was in the passenger seat. 
In a way, it was better that he was alive. Because of course, it was; she wanted nothing more than for him to be alive. In another way, it was worse. He was dead on Mars no matter what; it would’ve been less painful if the antenna did him in. 
Her eyes stared unseeing at the news playing over the cafe’s television as her mind counted down. 
Two and a half minutes left.
The tv had been on ESPN when she walked in, but a quiet word from (Y/n) to the woman behind the register had seen the channel changed, much to the disappointment of a group of men in suits sitting at the counter. 
One had even turned to complain to her about ruining their SportsCenter lunchbreak, but he quickly shut up when he caught sight of who he was about to confront. 
“My condolences, Commander Watney,” the man turned back to the counter and didn’t look back at her booth again. 
His friends all glanced surreptitiously over their shoulders at her throughout their meal, but she was used to it. Not the pity in their eyes, that was a new addition. 
Being watched had become a part of her every day life on Earth. It was part of why (Y/n) was so eager to go back to space. In space, the only eyes were her crew and the stars. 
Today though, it was oddly comforting. They were voyeurs more than anything. (Y/n) knew they only cared to a degree, but it was a degree more than her hotel pillow was capable of caring. 
(Y/n) spent most of her time in Florida working at Launch Control or doing promotional press and the rest of her time in D.C. campaigning for NASA funding. She had an apartment not far from the Kennedy Space Center and a best friend who lived just inside the Maryland state line. 
The last time she’d spent any real time in Houston had been as an AsCan, when NASA put her up in a dorm with other potential candidates. Since training ended, (Y/n) had only really visited Texas for a meeting here or there. 
The only people she knew in Texas worked in the upper echelon of NASA, and after the news they’d dropped on her, spending time crying on their shoulder was about the last thing (Y/n) wanted to do.
The press conference was slated to start any moment. (Y/n) desperately needed someone to care, but she’d rather take the passive curiosity of strangers than Annie Montrose’s calculating eye or Mitch Henderson’s guilt ridden conscience. 
Somewhere in her mind, (Y/n) registered as the news clicked over to NASA, and the man who’d offered his sympathy began to order the waitress to turn it off. 
“No,” (Y/n) called just loud enough to be heard. “It’s important.” 
The waitress leaned back against the counter to watch, and it seemed, as if drawn by some unknown magnetism to her pain every other patron in the room quieted down enough to hear the words. 
“We’re now joining the press conference live where NASA’s Chief Director, Teddy Sanders, has an announcement.” 
The newscaster spoke over Teddy introducing himself as the director mouthed an introduction only heard by those in the room. 
The volume cut to NASA just in time to hear, “There’s no easy way to put this. Mark Watney is alive.”
The silence was deafening for a long beat before the world around her exploded. 
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The first call was from an old school friend. 
Jenny has been watching the news when it was announced, and she’d called right away. Naively, worried that (Y/n) didn’t know she hadn’t wanted her to hear from a stranger. 
Calls two through six had come in while she was on the phone with Jenny.
(Y/n) didn’t return any of them.
She answered call number fourteen, ten minutes later. It was her favorite professor, Dr. Armstrong, a name which had an irony that was not lost on (Y/n). He was the head of the Computer Science department during her undergraduate degree, and he’d had her back once every semester to speak to classes about all the places their degree could take them. Needless to say, his classes featuring her were very popular.
Call fifteen through twenty came in the twenty minutes they were talking. Dr. Armstrong hadn’t asked her how she was doing. He probed at what was happening and if anything could be done to help. 
Call twenty-three had been her neighbor in Florida. Maria Ramirez was the opposite, desperately worried about whether or not (Y/n) was okay.
Those were the only calls (Y/n) answered on Day One. After telling Maria for the millionth time that she would survive the night, (Y/n) had hung up to another twelve missed calls. 
“I want to marry whoever invented the do not disturb button,” (Y/n) grumbled, pressing the cresent moon and tossing her phone into the corner of the room to leave her undisturbed for the rest of the day.
She answered the first call on Day Two. In large part because (Y/n) didn’t know who it was.
“This is (Y/n).” She said, catching the phone between her shoulder and ear.
“(Y/n)?” It wasn’t exactly a question, but the hesitation in the voice made it sound like one. “Th-This is Amy Beck.”
(Y/n) had only met Dr. Beck once, on the launch pad before he piled in to be launched into orbit with her brother. Their entire exchange had been “Good luck, Dr. Beck.” and “Thank you, Commander Watney.”, so they hadn’t really had time to get into personal matters like exchanging sibling contact information.
“I-I got your number from Mitch Henderson.”
“Well that explains a lot,” (Y/n) grumbled, not really bothering to hide her displeasure from the woman on the other end of the line. “What can I do for you?”
“I was actually hoping we could talk… In person?” Amy hedged.
(Y/n) sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. A wife of one of the Ares II crew had hung her up for nearly six hours asking all kinds of questions about what her husband was going through on the trip to Mars, and she really was in no mood to go through that again. “Unfortunately, I’m in Houston at the moment…”
“I know,” Amy cut in quickly. “I live in Houston, myself. I was hoping we could meet for coffee? Only quickly, it would have to be for my lunch break.”
Now that was a time constraint (Y/n) could reasonably see to.
“All right. Tell me when and where.”
“Any day you like, around 1 oclock, at Al Vetros? It’s near my work.” 
“Tomorrow then.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So what is it you wanted to talk about? I regret to inform you that a lunch break isn’t long enough to explain how the engine aboard the Hermes functions.” 
A quick browse through Facebook had shown (Y/n) Amy’s picture, though admittedly nothing else with the woman’s stringent privacy settings. It gave (Y/n) complete confidence when she walked in that she’d spotted the right woman at the two seater by the window, plopping down into the seat opposite to begin without hesitation.
“No, no,” Amy, somewhat befuddled by (Y/n)’s abruptness, quickly responded, “I don’t think there’s any hope in me understanding any of that. I never liked physics. Or the stars for that matter, I don’t have any ambition to go into a vacuum where a piece of glass is all that stands between me and death.” 
“Then what did you want me to help you with?” (Y/n)’s eyebrows creased together.
“I was hoping I might be the one to help you.” Amy leaned forward with her elbows on the table, not quite whispering but certainly speaking low enough to avoid any eavesdroppers, “Mitch called and told me all about Mark before it hit the news. I figured you wouldn’t want to leave Houston while NASA was monitoring him.”
“You figured right.” (Y/n) heaved a sigh, “The Holiday Inn staff have been overly kind to me given the circumstances.”
Amy dug around in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a key ring. “Yes, Mitch mentioned. I thought you might want something a little more homey, and a little less expensive than a long-term stay in a hotel.”
(Y/n) eyed the key but made no move to grab it. “I can’t take that.”
“And why not?” Amy set the key on the table and slid it across to the space in front of (Y/n). “I like to think you would accomodate me if my brother was trapped on Mars, and I have a spare room so it’s really no inconvenience.”
(Y/n) fingered the jagged edge of the key with a thoughtful hand. Amy didn’t know what she was saying. (Y/n) really, really couldn’t accept this. “I don’t think you understand what you’re offering here. My brother had 50 days worth of rations for his whole crew. Assuming he does absolutely nothing to extend or improve his food supply, worst case scenario sees my brother dying in a year. My best case scenario, Mark manages to extend or add to his food supply and by some miracle we get him back in a few years when Ares IV goes to Mars.”
Amy pretended to think it over, but (Y/n) could tell the woman was just humoring her. “Yep,” Amy gave a lazy smile. “Still haven’t changed my mind.”
“I’m not leaving Houston till he dies or comes back alive. That’s anywhere from 300 days to 5 years from now.” 
“Yep.” Amy popped the last ‘p’ letter, then leaned forward and pushed the key into (Y/n)’s palm. “I hope you don’t mind the sound of violin music. I don’t play or anything; I just really like watching Sherlock.”
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Next Time on... Part Four
Taglist: 
Forever Taglist:
@maybe-a-fangurl / @libbymouse / @geeksareunique / @deathbyarabbit​ / @spilltheearlgrey / @ryanbarnesrogers / 
Series Taglist:
@multifandombabelover​ / @cutiepiemimi13​ / @captainscanadian​ / @harishaanne​ / @andtheytoldustotellyouhello / @diabla-seis66 / @thebestofoneshots​ / @harishaanne​ / 
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kevintor · 4 years
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I Watch a Movie I Should Have Seen: Hocus Pocus
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I miss doing these entries. Mostly I miss adding movies to my watched list. Obviously, I’ve never seen Hocus Pocus. That’s why we’re here.
What did I know about Hocus Pocus? I knew there were witches and I knew Bette Midler had fun teeth. And she certainly did!
My thoughts:
We open on Salem in the 1600s following the shadow of a flying witch. The music was straight out of the Danny Elfman playbook but I guess they couldn’t get him so they found an equivalent Ray Parker, Jr. to Elfman’s Huey Lewis. (If you don’t know)
Pink smoke comes out of the chimney of the witch house which means someone’s gender reveal party resulted in a girl! Unfortunately they had to sacrifice a different little girl to find out.
The old-timey boy we meet is wearing a shirt that can only be described as billowy. He should take off like a kite when he runs. Yet somehow when he violently tumbles down a forest hill, none of that very excessive fabric gets caught on anything. Is the fabric even there or are we imagining it?
The witches (Sanderson Sisters) use a book made of human skin and a functioning eyeball. I shall call this book “Columbo.”
It’s very nice of them to put a mill wheel next to the witch house for the boy to climb.
Okay, so Bette Midler has lightning fingers like Emperor Palpatine.
I honestly thought the witches were going to be misunderstood and everyone would win at the end but killing a little girl for her youth and turning the boy into an immortal cat really puts a big wrench in the redemption arc chances.
The townspeople stage a hanging. The witches curse the town that they will return much like Pennywise only scarier.
We fast forward to find out that the opening is a story that is told in a Salem high school class where the kids apparently range in age from 14-28.
A new-to-town California boy (Max) doesn’t buy into all the witch lore. No mention on why his first day of school is Halloween. Parents did not plan that move well.
Max is into Allison, the pretty girl in school that leads with her teeth in every conversation. Did Rami Malek pull some his Freddy Mercury from her?
Max rides his bike home from school at super speed. He is either an exceptional mountain biking improviser or he practiced it the day before to be really ready for school. Probably the latter.
On his shortcut through the cemetery, he runs into two kids, Jay and Ice. Jay seems to be all the bad parts of Bill and Ted combined and Ice seems to be 40.
Jay and Ice take Max’s sneakers because that’s what bullies in the early 90s did. It makes pedaling home slower which may be for the best. He rode his bike too quickly.
Max does not like being here in Salem anymore. We learn this as he angrily takes off his hat, backpack, and jacket.
Max comforts himself by awkwardly hugging and cooing to his pillow pretending it’s Allison. His little sister, Dani, catches the awkwardness, gets on the bed, and simulates being Allison which is normal.
The house appears to have an unlimited number of stairs to climb up to get away in frustration.
Max reluctantly takes his sister trick-or-treating. He has the appropriate level of older brother standoffishness.
Jay and Ice stop the sister asking for her candy. Max gives the candy to the bullies and she tells him he should have been a man and fought them. Again one of them is like 40.
Max makes up with her using a pouty face. Like! A! Man!
They find a rich house that they assume will make them bob for apples. This is a bad idea even in non-pandemic times. Never bob for apples at a stranger’s house. No matter how rich they are. That’s how rich people fatten you up to make you easier to hunt.
Max and Dani let themselves inside and start robbing the place of their Raisinets and O Henry bars. Rich people give out terrible candy.
Turns out the rich house belongs to Allison. They are having a party and everyone there is authentically dressed like royals. They did not get any of these costumes at Spirit Halloween.
Dani tells Allison that she can’t wear Allison’s royal dress because she doesn’t have yabbos and proceeds to tell her that Max loves her yabbos. This girl is outrageous. Or rude. It was a fine line in 1993.
Max asks Allison to take them to the Sanderson Sisters’ house. She tells him she’s going to quickly change out of a dress that must have taken her 45 minutes to get into.
The house is no different than it used to be. The spell book is still there. How have Jay and Ice not stolen anything from it?
Immortal Cat attacks Max when he wants to light the “virgin candle” that will bring back the Sanderson sisters. It’s a great sequence where he says the name of the movie (always important), then pulls a Zippo out of his pocket (which all kids who don’t smoke have), and lights the candle.
It starts things. Hair blows a lot. This is why they had Max be a surfer boy from California. For this hair effect.
This movie cares a lot about someone being a virgin. Even Dani knows what a virgin is. Are they covering this in her second grade class? Do the parents know? What does the PTA think?
The candle makes the Sisters return and they try to keep Dani. Bette Midler uses more of her Star Wars lightning fingers but Allison saves the day.
The cat can talk and the chances of me liking this movie just took a huge hit.
Max steals Columbo, the spell book.
The writers of the movie do the right thing by having the Sisters be scared of everything modern like roads and fire trucks. Nice touch.
The Sisters only have tonight, which adds the right amount of stakes, to get the spell book back. I don’t think I could make it if they had a week or so.
The Sisters raise the dead causing a very reluctant zombie (RZ) to chase after the kids. Most zombies love what they do so this is a fun choice.
Immortal Cat gets run over by a bus but lives because he’s immortal. We needed proof because the 300 years of being a cat was not enough.
Garry Marshall plays a guy dressed as the devil which they play for fun as the Sisters worship him but we can’t gloss over that fact that Fake Devil’s wife is played by his real-life sister, Penny Marshall. It’s not disturbing. They’re acting!
Children steal the Sisters’ brooms which probably won’t matter later.
They find a Halloween party that Max’s parents went to. When Max’s dad meets Allison, he kisses her hand. I am going to do the same to whoever my kid brings home one day. “It’s from Hocus Pocus. That movie’s fun. It’s not weird.”
Bette Midler gets to sing a song. That should satisfy the requirements from her contract. The song puts a spell on the partygoers forcing them to dance until they die. Somehow the kids are immune to it. Can they shut off their ears? Are they also magical?
The kids lure the Sisters into the school incinerator and burn them alive. It’s a strong play. The kids celebrate as if there is not 30 minutes left in the movie.
Immortal Cat, in a time of reflection, brings up his sister and Max says “You really miss her, huh?” He has been trapped as a cat after failing to save his sister’s life 300 years earlier. He misses her. Why not “Hey, do you ever wonder what might have happened if you saved her life?”
Without any explanation, the Sisters are fine. They run into Jay and Ice who insult them. The Sisters cage Jay and Ice and make them hang from the witch house ceiling. The bullies are crying. Maybe they aren’t so tough after all. <High Fives No One>
Allison decides to find a spell to uncat Immortal Cat. She opens Columbo causing it to glow. The glow lures Bette Midler and the Sisters to her. Allison fails to notice the glow but learns that salt can keep them safe.
The Sisters steal the book and Dani when Allison only uses the salt to protect herself. She really took care of number one here.
Now Sarah Jessica Parker gets to sing a real creepy song that summons all the children from the town. It really shows you the power of song. Again, Max and Allison must have turned off their hearing for this.
Max and Allison trick the Sisters into thinking sun is coming early by using a car headlight. It works but I don’t understand why. They had the sun 300 years ago. They know what it looks like. “Is that a person in a brown sweat suit and green hat or a tree?”
While the Sisters are scared of the car headlight, Max steals back his sneakers but doesn’t save the bullies. How does he know he won’t need the bullies to be on his side in the future? Has he not seen every other high school movie?
They drive away and Bette Midler brooms after them. We know how fast Max likes to go so it is impressive Bette Midler can keep up.
Reluctant Zombie shows up and Max pulls a knife on him. So Max has a knife and a zippo. He might be a problem.
They take the final showdown to a cemetery which is an odd choice. Why not a miniature golf course or a TCBY. Were they still around in 1993?
Max brings a bat to a magic fight. Allison still has her salt. “Bats and salt: Working together to inconvenience witches since 1881!”
Max sacrifices himself to save Dani. The sun comes up as Bette Midler is sucking the life out of Max. Just when you think it might be a better sun-impersonating headlight, Bette Midler turns into a statue and explodes. Definitely the sun.
Immortal Cat dies so he can be with his sister. Billowy shirt ghost appears to say thanks with a kiss on Dani’s cheek (so normal) before he runs off with his ghost sister for eternity.
They did it! They saved Salem! Quite a first day for Max..
The movie was fine. I hate talking animals unless they are cartoons so that didn’t help. And why did they care so much about virgins? A friend told me that “virgin” meant “pure of heart.” Well then they should have said “pure of heart.” And if I can suggest, between Max’s predilection for weapons and Allison’s selfishness with the salt, I don’t think they should stop being “pure of heart” with each other. They aren’t a good couple. Going through a traumatic thing like killing summoned witches from the Pilgrim days causes feelings that can’t last.
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krovscastlerpg · 7 years
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It's Anon hour, and since this is our last one before Halloween, we've got a mega-sized one for you guys! To participate, simply reblog this post, or post a link to your ask box, have fun!!
*Under the cut you'll find 100 Halloween starters and 100 Halloween questions! I'm sorry for mobile users who can't see what they are, the post was just too long not to put under a read-more, if anyone is on mobile and can't see the list, please send an ask to the main and we'll reblog a non-cut version that will //NOT// be available to be reblogged, please reblog THIS read-more version, thank you!*
Halloween starters
“I promised a reward if you did a couple’s costume with me this year. Well, I’m ready to pay up.”
“I’m not sure how, but you have melted chocolate on your neck. I’ll get it off for you.”
“You scared me, you jerk! Feel how fast my heart is beating.”
“I can’t look! I’m hiding my face in your lap.”  
“Bobbing for apples is so gross. If I’m going to swap spit with a stranger, I’d rather just make out with you.”
“Do you think I can lick my way down to the stick of this lollipop? Can you keep your hands to yourself while I try?”
“This is usually the part in the slasher flick where the horny couple sneaks away from the group… follow me, unless you’re scared.”
“I’ve never seen a sexier costume in my life. Keep it on.”
“They say you feel cold when you’re in the presence of a ghost. What’s it mean when you start getting hot?”
“How hard can you bite with those plastic fangs in your mouth?”
“Halloween is basically an excuse for you to walk the streets in lingerie –and I love every second of it.”
“I’m sorry, babe. Scaring you seemed like a funny idea at the time. Let me make it up to you?”
“The Ouija board just spelled ‘fuck’ and I think we should listen to it.”
​❝ i made pumpkin cookies! want to try one? ❞
❝ did you cut yourself carving the pumpkin? let me see it. ❞
❝ stay still i’m almost done with your costume. ❞
❝ help me decorate! ❞
​❝ it’s chilly out here, you need a coat. take mine. ❞
​❝ you sound sick. are you sick? ❞
​❝ let’s go get hot chocolate then go for a walk. ❞
❝ let’s go jump in the leaves! ❞
​❝ come in here where it’s dry! ❞
​❝ please, enough with the pumpkin spice. ❞
​❝ good morning. no, don’t get up, it’s raining, let’s stay in bed a little longer… ❞
❝ i don’t get scared. i’m practically fearless. ❞
❝ did you hear that? ❞
❝ we have to get out of here! ❞
❝ are you going to hide in my shoulder the whole time? or actually watch the movie? ❞
❝ don’t blame me! it was your idea to come in here! ❞
❝ what are you going as for halloween this year? ❞
❝ i wanna make sure that my jack-o-lantern is the best! ❞
❝ that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten minutes. ❞
❝ aww come on! it was a prank! ❞
❝ please, please, PLEASE no scary movie marathon! ❞
❝ that wasn’t funny! ❞
❝ i’m not sure we should go down that hall. ❞
❝ i don’t like these woods. ❞
❝ i just saw something! ❞
❝ look at that intestine cake! ❞
❝ i’m a real vampire. ❞
❝ i made us matching costumes! ❞
❝ i think i just saw something move outside your window…is someone watching us? ❞
❝ did you hear there’s a masquerade ball this halloween? let’s go! ❞
❝ you shouldn’t go out there! ❞
❝ s-scared? me? i’m not..scared. ❞
“What is your greatest fear?”
“Do you dare me?”
“I don’t think we should go in there.”
“This was a horrible idea.”
“Is that really red syrup? Please tell me it’s syrup.”
“What was that noise?’
“I heard that he died right over there.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Please don’t touch the human remains.”
“I’m calling it. We are lost in the woods.”
“Please take your mask off.”
“What’s that?
“You don’t want to know. Don’t look.”
“I dare you to go in there. Alone.”
“Please don’t leave me here!”
“I don’t want to end up like the others.”
“I never thought I’d fall in love with a werewolf.”
“Anyone who goes there refuses to talk about it afterward.”
“I thought vampires were supposed to burst into flames when they get staked.”
“I can’t stand blood.”
“Do you know any spells to get rid of this thing?”
“I… I think I have fangs.”
“And this is why you shouldn’t screw with the laws of nature.”
“If you wear that ‘this is my costume’ t-shirt, I swear to god…”
“Ew, I hate this flavor. Trade?”
“Stop crying, it was just some dude wrapped in toilet paper!”
“Wow, you sure put too much effort into this holiday.’
“Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?”
“I don’t think you should be having that much sugar…”
“Kind of makes me wish something interesting would happen. Like murder.”
“NO. NO OUIJA BOARDS!”
“I’ve seen scarier Hot Topic cashiers.”
“This isn’t right. Where are the slutty male costumes?!”
“No way. People who have sex at parties die on Halloween. That’s just movie logic.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not dressing up for Halloween.”
“It’s the mooost wonderful tiiime of the yeaaaaar~”
“I’m in pumpkin spice hell.”
“How many caramel apples do we need? Two? Twenty? Four hundred? I’m buying four hundred.”
“If you don’t carve pumpkins with me this year, we’re not friends anymore.”
“If you don’t carve pumpkins with me this year, I’m breaking up with you.”
“I drank a gallon of cider all by myself. I regret nothing.”
“Let’s do a couple costume this year.”
“Did you know they used to carve faces on turnips?”
“October is when the creeps come out of hiding. Hence, I am here.”
“Want to have a horror movie marathon with me?”
“You ever realize that the fall smell everyone loves so much is just the scent of dying plants?”
“We need to add more Halloweens to the year. 30 more to be exact.”
“I’m not really superstitious. I think the whole ‘spirits returning to earth’ thing is ridiculous.”
“Whether or not I believe in ghosts, I’m not going to risk it with a Ouija board.”
“You know, there are a lot of spooky legends about this time of year.”
“October is the best time for blankets and [hot beverage of choice].”
“Ah, October. The harvest season. Perfect for harvesting souls.”
“I want a pumpkin spice latte and I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
“I’m still undecided on my Halloween costume this year.”
“I don’t dress up anymore. That’s for kids.”
“Tell me the scariest story you have.”
“Do you want to hear something scary?”
Halloween Asks
Welcome to Dead House - Have you ever moved to a new home?
Stay Out of the Basement - Are you hiding anything…?
Monster Blood - How tall are you? Would you change your height if given the chance?
Say Cheese and Die - What is your favorite photo of yourself? Could you share it?
The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb - Do you believe in curses and bad luck?
Lets Get Invisible - Have you ever wished you could trade places with someone else for a day?
Night of the Living Dummy - Do you constantly try to one-up your siblings? If you don’t have siblings, do you constantly try to one-up other people?
The Girl Who Cried Monster - Can you recall a time that people did not believe you about something, even though you were telling the truth?
Welcome to Camp Nightmare - What lengths have you gone through to pass a test?
The Ghost Next Door - If you could choose how you were going to die, how would you go and why?
The Haunted Mask - What do you consider to be a “symbol of love” in your life?
Be Careful What You Wish For - If you had three wishes, what would they be?
Piano Lessons can be Murder - Do you have any musical talent? What kind of instrument(s) can you play?
The Werewolf of Fever Swamp - Would you adopt a stray animal? Have you?
You Can’t Scare Me - What is your biggest fear?
One Day at Horrorland - Do you enjoy rides? What is your favorite ride?
Why I’m Afraid of Bees - Do you kill insects or let them outside?
Deep Trouble - Do you like to swim? A pool or the ocean?
The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight - Do you have any bizarre family/close family friends? What do they do that’s so out of the norm?
Go Eat Worms - Have you ever ruined someone else’s hard work?
Ghost Beach - Do you have any unusual hobbies that other people may judge you for?
Phantom of the Auditorium - Have you ever been to or been in a play? What play(s) have you gone to/been to?
Attack of the Mutant - Who is your favorite comic book Super-Villain?
My Hairiest Adventure - How did you react when you reached puberty? How about when you started to grow hair in weird places?
A Night in Terror Tower - Have you ever traveled to another country? Where did you go and what kinds of things did you experience?
The Cuckoo Clock of Doom - If you could go back in time, where would you go and why?
It Came from Beneath the Sink - How often do you compliment others? How often do you insult others?
The Barking Ghost - Are you a dog person or a cat person?
The Horror at Camp Jellyjam - Have you ever tried so hard to win something that you realized wasn’t worth winning in the first place?
Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes - Have you ever been accused of something you never did?
A Shocker on Shock Street - What is your favorite genre of movie? What is your favorite movie of that genre?
The Headless Ghost - Do you enjoy scaring others? Or do you enjoy being scared yourself?
The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena - Do you prefer the cold weather or the hot weather?
How I got my Shrunken Head - Do you own any rare or bizarre artifacts?
Bad Hare Day - Are you into magic tricks? Can you perform any?
Egg Monsters from Mars - What is your favorite holiday?
The Beast from the East - What is your favorite outdoors game to play?
Ghost Camp - What is your favorite summer-time activity?
How to Kill a Monster - What are you allergic to (if anything at all)?
Legend of the Lost Legend - Have you ever gone treasure-hunting or geocaching?
Attack of the Jack'O'Lanterns -  What is your favorite Halloween costume (that you’ve worn or seen someone else wear)?
Vampire Breath - Are you forgetful and often misplace important things?
Calling All Creeps - Have you ever received and answered a strange call from an unknown number?
Beware the Snowman - What is your favorite thing to do in the snow?
How I Learned to Fly - Do you wish to be famous? Do you think being famous would ruin who you are?
Chicken Chicken - Have you ever done something that has caused you to regret it once you received the consequences?
Don’t Go to Sleep - What keeps you up at night?
The Blob that Ate Everyone - What kind of things do you like to write about (if anything at all)?
The Curse of Camp Cold Lake - Do you treat others with the same respect they treat you?
My Best Friend is Invisible - Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever gone ghost hunting?
The Haunted School - What is your favorite subject in school? What is your least favorite subject?
Werewolf Skin - Do you feel comfortable in your own skin?
I Live in your Basement - Are your parents extremely over-protective or are they under-protective?
Bat: If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be?
Black Cat: Are you superstitious? If so, what are you superstitious about?
Broomstick: If you could travel anywhere in the world where would it be?
Candy Corn: What food disgusts you the most?
Cauldron: What is your favorite thing to cook?
Cobwebs: One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark?
Coffin: Are you claustrophobic?
Demon: What is your worst flaw?
Eerie: One thing that always creeps you out?
Fright: What is your biggest fear?
Ghost: If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind?
Gravestone: Ideal way you'd like to die?
Haunted House: If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick?
Hocus Pocus: What is the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?
Howl: Your favorite kind of dog?
Jack-o'-lantern: Do you have any scars? If so, how many?
Monster: What is your favorite scary movie to watch in the dark?
Mummy: Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die?
Potion: What is your favorite thing to drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic?
Pumpkin: What is your favorite food around the holidays?
Scream: Easiest way to scare you?
Skeleton: Tell me one of your biggest secrets?
Spooky: What was your last nightmare about?
Trick or Treat: Tell me about the greatest prank you've ever pulled?
Vampire: Which one are you? Early bird or night owl?
Witch: If could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast?
Wendigo: What is one food you always overeat?
Autumn: What is your favorite season?
Fear: Do you get scared easily?
Chocolate: What is your favorite kind of candy?
Werewolf: What is your favorite supernatural creature?
Shapeshifter: If you could have any superpower, what would it be?
Under The Bed: What was your biggest fear as a child?
Decorations: Do you decorate? If so, how much?
Ouija Board: If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Graveyard: Do you know any good scary stories?
Bones: Have you ever broken a bone?
Goatman: What is your favorite urban legend?
Horror Flick: Do you like scary movies? If so, which one is your favorite?
Haunting: Would you prefer to live in the city or the country?
Zombie: Do you think that you could survive a zombie apocalypse?
Spiders: What animal would you least like to be around?
Hellhound: Do you have any pets?
Brew: What kind of potion would you make if you had the opportunity?
Full Moon: Do you prefer nighttime or daytime?
Corn Maze: What is your favorite autumn activity?
Highway 666: What exciting places have you traveled to?
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Who You Gonna Call? The Diviners!
One of the biggest problems about getting invested in a book series is having to wait. You’re dying to know what happens next and you desperately check Goodreads to see if the publication date for the next book gets updated. Then, finally, publication day arrives. You get the book, tear through it, and repeat the process all over again. Such was the case when I read Before the Devil Breaks You , the third and newest installment of Libba Bray ’s Diviners series. At a whopping 552 pages, it’s much thicker than most YA books I’ve read lately, but that only made me rub my hands together like a fly. The more time I could spend with this new book before having to play the waiting game for the next one, the better. This book was very well worth the wait. The series centers around Evie O’Neal, a teenager in 1920's New York, with the power to glean the past from objects she touches. Her friends also have powers of their own and together they form a group called the Diviners, who find themselves battling sinister paranormal activity throughout the city, as well as an enigmatic entity known as the King of Crows. And, since it’s the ‘20s, they also have to grapple with Prohibition, social unrest, and the aftermath of World War I. Mixed all together, Bray’s readers are presented with plenty of fun, angst, romance, and chills. I’ve always loved the way Bray writes ghost scenes. Her characters’ fears are tangible, but the evildoers’ motivations are always made clear. Yes, they’re ghosts and they’re causing harm to our beloved characters, but they’re not wreaking havoc just for the fun of it. The ghosts that roam New York City in this book are being roused by the King of Crows and they want revenge for being forgotten. This is where the book really stood out to me. Although Before the Devil Breaks You is a fantasy novel, the historical details are on point. Bray doesn’t hesitate to dig deep into American history, which makes the book even scarier. The book is set in 1927, and while there are plenty of flappers, speakeasies, and jazz, Bray also touches on racism, the deplorable treatment of the mentally ill, and the eugenics movement that was very real. In between ghost hunts, power practice, and love scenes, Bray asks her readers to consider problems that are still relevant in our society. What happens to men when they are told they are entitled to the world? What becomes of the people considered unsavory, undesirable, or too different? How can we strive for drastic change while still remaining true to our own morals? The stakes are high for the ragtag team of Diviners in their third adventure, but Bray never leaves her readers feeling hopeless. While there are some truly heartbreaking moments and nail-biting cliffhangers, it’s reassuring to know the Diviners always have each other’s backs. Libba Bray has made me cry many times ( Going Bovine , The Sweet Far Thing , and the time I met her in person and cried in the bathroom afterwards), but most of all she reminds me that compassion and kindness can change the world, and that the power of storytelling is far greater than any silence.
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oneweekoneband · 7 years
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played with myself / where were you?
Meet Me in the Hallway and From the Dining Table bookend the album neatly: both songs are understated and slightly meandering: no hook, no chorus, just the intimacy of vocals murmuring lyrics that sound like they’re pulled directly from a diary page.
woke up alone in this hotel room
played with myself
where were you
fell back to sleep
I got drunk by noon
I’ve never felt less cool
From the Dining Table is one of the few songs on the album that feels like it’s directed at a person, not a Woman. There’s a sly, sweet intimacy to it— you can imagine the bright stretch of the morning, the lazy masturbation, the first cold drink and then the second. The slightly-too-soggy text messages and then silence that follows them, how long the afternoon seems. How evening threatens but never quite falls. Even my phone / misses your call / by the way.
The song swells. Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry too. Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry too. She doesn’t, though; that was just a patch of buoyant, wishful thinking. And so he wakes up on some other morning with a girl who looks like her, and she’s a ghost, the girl he wants, which makes sense, I guess, because that’s what ghosts do. They can’t love you. They can only haunt you.
Why can’t you ever say what you want to say? Harry asks towards the end of the song. Writing about Meet Me in the Hallway I posed a different question: where do you run when what you’re running from / is yourself?
Harry Styles is all questions, no answers. Is there any more to do? Plenty— Carolina, Kiwi, Angel— and yet. Even my phone / misses your call / by the way. I think one of my big problems with Harry Styles, lyrically, is that the stakes so often feel low for him. He takes care to dismiss the girls he writes about (Only Angel, Kiwi) or else the circumstances surrounding the song lend an uncomfortably possessive air to more flattering descriptions (Carolina, Woman). He dabbles in abjection but never truly surrenders to it; he makes sure that the grossness of his desire is being absorbed by someone else. He’s so afraid of what he wants that he can’t look beyond it to see the other person in his bed, or imagine that she is scared of her self, too.
I don’t know; maybe I’m projecting. I’ve written three of these before, OWOBs, that is, and I usually try to keep the first person out of it, but it didn’t seem possible with this one. It’s not that I don’t relate intensely and personally to Hanson, and Taylor Swift, and my beloved Direction. But that was why the exercise was interesting, I guess: could I get out of my own way and write about why someone else might care about the songs, or imagine what they might find there?
Instead I feel like I’m trying to write myself in to Harry Styles, to make space for myself on an album that was written without any thought for me at all. Which is fair, I guess, sort of. Everyone gets to make their own selfish art. 
But it’s also true that, as a woman, I’ve spent most of life looking for myself in men’s art, in their ideas and words, and been continually disappointed to see only my reflection staring back at me: always the muse, never the audience. An inspiration, not a companion. They look at me, they look at other girls, they make something of us. It’s not something they ever imagine having-- much less wanting-- to share with us. 
Recently I’ve been trying to make space for myself, period: to separate myself from the expectations of the men I’ve loved, their desires and their fears and their language for me. What’s so incredibly wild about it is how it doesn’t change how I feel about fucking anything. It helps me understand why I’m still helplessly tender towards Harry, toward all of my twenty-something Harrys: boys who put their curly heads on my shoulder and breathed against my collarbone because they didn’t know what they wanted or how to ask for it, who buried their secrets in my body because they didn’t know where else to put them. It explains but does nothing to erase that tenderness. 
I feel it rising in me now. It doesn’t make me hate Harry. It makes me want to give him sisterly advice. It makes me want to take care of him. I know exactly what it means to love lost boys. I don’t know many good stories about loving lost girls. 
Harry doesn’t either, I don’t think. I’m hopeful that he’ll learn them, though, and tell them. That when I hear his next album I won’t have to do so much work to figure out whether I want to like it or not-- whether it’s giving me something new, or if I recognize it because it’s full of old ideas. I wish for him what I wish for everyone, probably, myself very much included: that whoever this is, she’ll pick up his call, or someone else will. That he’ll stick around long enough get through the fear and find something even bigger, and scarier, and better. That he’ll figure out how to love his own stupid self, and then how to love someone else, too. 
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movietvtechgeeks · 7 years
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Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/top-10-horror-collectibles-ever-hardcore-fan/
Top 10 horror collectibles ever hardcore fan should have
If there’s one thing that sparks this geek’s interest other than sci-fi, it’s horror. It’s probably true with most sci-fi fans or geeks in general because these two genres are closely intertwined. Horror deals with the creepy unknown and a large part of science fiction deals in speculating what’s out there. One such franchise that deals with both sci-fi and horror is the Alien franchise. It’s a household name when it comes to both genres but unfortunately butchered through the years. But there are those of us that are more fascinated by monsters and creatures that go bump in the night instead of starships and going to warp speeds. You might call them sick, but they’re just, well… different, for keeping tons of horror replicas and memorabilia in their respective man-caves. To each his own really, and it’s not that slightly psychotic tendency for gore and murder that should concern us about an individual with a Texas Chainsaw Massacre Leatherface mask in his collection, but rather his love for the horror genre, his/her knowledge of the histories of film and TV behind his/her morbid collection and the attention to detail manufacturers like NECA often put into their collectibles. Many horror collectibles are beautiful in their own horrific ways like McFarlane’s horror toy line. The guy may have created Spawn, but his twisted mind just couldn’t stop there. My only claim to horror collecting is my Ghost Rider collection which many of my guests already consider to be morbid. All those flaming skulls and I still don’t think they’re enough. Supernatural collectibles meanwhile are rare in these parts, but with enough time and dough, I’ll have a trunk of flannel, guns, stakes, knives and the optional salt. You can check out our Supernatural Holiday Gift Guide for those of you lucky enough to get your hands on them. But let’s discuss the hottest horror collectibles sought-after by horror fans such as myself. It gives me chills just imagining setting them up in their dedicated hallway or room much like The Conjuring’s Ed and Lorrain Warren's museum. If you have the dough, feel-free to grab life-size busts or statues of your favorite horror franchise or if you’re starting out, dedicate a shelf for dolls and detailed action figures. There are dozens of horror franchises out there, and it’s kind of difficult to get a definitive list. To keep it simple, let’s just work with toys and statues. Here are the most popular ones out there and you can check these out if you want to get started. Again, this is not a definitive list as there are other famous franchises that need attention. Annabelle (Annabelle) – is the latest chilling entry in the horror genre from the Conjuring series of films. The actual Annabelle doll is much less creepy than the cinematic version since it’s only one of those formerly popular Raggedy Ann dolls that happens to be haunted. Hollywood wants The Conjuring and Annabelle films to be creepy, so we end up with overly-made-up Ms. Woody MacWood face instead. Still, I do find some innocent-looking dolls placed at the right angle look more macabre than some of the items on this list. Annabelle feels a bit too artificial but creepy nonetheless. Mezco Toys came up with a scaled 46-cm/18” prop replica of the creepy doll and is available for around $94 here. Just her alone on the top shelf is sure to give your guests the chills. Necronomicon Ex Mortis (Evil Dead) – is another popular horror article that has frightened us for almost forty years. It first appeared in Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead starring Bruce Campbell in 1981. If you’ve been living under a rock for all these years, The Necronomicon is an evil book of the dead made and bound in human skin with a cover resembling a human face. If it still doesn’t ring a bell, Think Army of Darkness, the most popular film in the Evil Dead franchise. This book of the dead is still very much alive in the latest TV series from Starz in Ash vs. the Evil Dead. There are several replicas out there and even a special-edition DVD cover for the Evil Dead films. Saw a creepy replica on display at a mall when I was in high school and already felt that sick feeling of taking it home and putting it on display. If only I had the small fortune required to do so. It would make a nice coffee table piece in your den of horrors. Keep it at your own risk as the Deadites are always after it. If you want one, be sure to shop smart for a boomstick and a portable chainsaw. Also, don’t forget that 7” Ash Williams Ultimate Scale action figure from NECA which has plenty of accessories you can get right here. Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead is a gross, gory but fun horror franchise. Chucky (Child’s Play) – is the doll that puts Annabelle to shame, though they might even look good together on your shelf. While Annabelle is more recent, Chucky is more iconic originating from way back in 1988 in the film Child’s Play. Chucky has become quite the horror icon since then. He’s actually frightening, funny and lovable and he handles that well even with his Good Guy persona. Though the series has gone downhill since Child’s Play 3, all his films are considered cult classics. There are several dolls available from various manufacturers, but the priciest to date is the life-size Seed of Chucky doll from Sideshow Collectibles which was priced at $4,850 on eBay. If you want something more recent, and cheaper, you could start with Mezco’s 15” Chucky Good Guy doll which is creepy enough to begin with. Pair him up with Mezco’s Talking Tiffany doll or their 15” Scarred Chucky. Or get both to complete the collection. Sam and Pumpkinhead (TRICK ‘R TREAT / Pumpkinhead) – What is Halloween without its governing spirits? The most recognizable figure for Halloween is the serial killer Michael Myers, but we’re looking for more supernatural symbols. The 2008 cult classic TRICK ‘R TREAT gave us the lovable but sinister Sam. A child-like entity dressed in a one-piece orange jumpsuit and a cute button-eyed burlap sack for a mask. Sam looks quite innocent with his child-like physique, candy sack and lollipop but actually indirectly leaves horrific incidents wherever he goes. Behind the mask is a frightening skull and pumpkin combination for a face. As for Pumpkinhead; before Ghost Rider came out, he was the original cinematic spirit of vengeance. Many people see him as an iconic monster, but when I first saw the design, he felt to me like an Alien knockoff, probably because I saw Aliens on VHS at around the same time. I also don’t get the name since he doesn’t look anywhere near a pumpkin as much as Sam does. But people like him and more than a few websites view him as one of the best obscure monsters out there, so he makes this list. Sam was available from Sideshow Collectibles in a limited 5000-item run so if you want one, prepare to shell out as much as $600 on eBay. As for Pumpkinhead, McFarlane Toys came out with a whopping 18-inch scale figure which would cost you around $400 on eBay today, if it does become available. Or you can get a more affordable over on Amazon here. [gallery columns="2" size="medium" ids="50042,50043"] Life-size Alien Egg and Xenomorph (Alien)– disappointed we may be with the latest Alien installment, Alien Covenant which removed AVP from canon, there’s no denying the powerful horror aspect that the Xenomorph and its various forms bring on the table. Honestly, I’d rather see an actual sequel starring Sigourney Weaver while she still looks young enough to pass for another horror-action adventure. Alien xenomorph toys and models may be a dime-a-dozen, by now but what really brings in the kicks for collectors are life-size models and statues that should bring any horror man-cave to life… sort of. A life-size 1:1 scale xenomorph warrior should set collectors back by as much as 9,999 dollars if ordered from popcultcha.com. Xenomorph busts from different films in the franchise are available on eBay for less than $3000. But for a very small price of $400, you can get a life-size Alien egg from NECA to go with your bust or statue. The egg comes with a Facehugger too which I actually find much scarier than the actual xenomorphs in the way they resemble large spiders. If you have the dough, you could set up a room with up to three eggs inside. If you don’t have the dough, you can start with a bunch of Alien 7” action figures from NECA and complete it with their 15” Alien Queen. All figures are exquisitely detailed. Regan MacNeil (The Exorcist) – If there’s anyone in this list that I don’t want in my horror collection, it would be a life-size Regan McNeil from The Exorcist. She’ll definitely be the creepiest of the bunch, and the film is so good, so creepy and so horrific that I couldn’t personally bear to watch it again. I have a slight fear of the dark because of this film. But to try and dispell that fear, I either imagine myself as a Ghostbuster, Simon Belmont or a hunter from Supernatural. Not a bad idea if you find yourself in a dark room with everyone in this list. But back to Regan, we can’t exactly blame young Linda Blair for looking so horrific. The devil made her do it with the help of the special effects guys. The special effects and sounds are just so good, no amount of modern CGI can probably match the chills from watching the classics like The Exorcist or The Omen. NECA has recently released an Exorcist diorama with poor Regan fully possessed and laying upright on her bed. She has a button when pressed makes her do the classic head spin. Despite the small size, the figure is detailed enough to remind everyone how chilling the film is. But if you really want to scare yourself or your guests sh*tless, you can go to eBay and grab a life-size bust for around $300. This list is in no particular order, but Regan makes top 1. Or go for a creepier life size like in the picture right on Amazon. You have to see it to believe it! Pennywise the Clown (It) – Clowns aren’t that scary. We love Ronald McDonald, don’t we? But it’s probably how the make-up is applied or how creepy the guy wearing the red nose is to begin with. Stephen King’s It is quite a terrifying film which probably started or aggravated coulrophobia in the United States. Pennywise and that clown doll from Poltergeist. As mentioned, Tim Curry is creepy enough to begin with so slap on a clown costume, and you’ll have a creepy clown from your nightmares. The latest incarnation of the film brought a whole new world of horror, and if Tim Curry's version didn't freak you out, this one surely will. There are plenty of Pennywise masks, costumes and figures on eBay but a bunch of detailed 12-inch ones that can set you back up to $500. If you want to have a better variety to choose from with makeup, window peepers or Funko dolls check them out here. Freddie Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street) NECA Movie Maniacs figure. Freddie Replica Glove Ruby’s Toys – Our nightmares are enough source of horrific material without someone like Freddie Krueger making it worse. There’s nothing like 80s horror flicks where the special effects aren’t too reliant on modern CGI. The practical effects of Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th and Halloween are the stuff of legend giving these characters their iconic status which is why the remake didn’t make create near the stir the originals did. Among the celebrities on this list, Freddie Krueger is legend and should be a staple in your horror collection. There are plenty of figures available out there from major horror manufacturers. McFarlane Toys are quite detailed if you want an affordable statuette for your collection. The 7-inch figure from NECA is also a sight to behold and includes plenty of accessories and comes in a nice box. It will set you back a reasonable $30 but will make a great addition to your horror collection. What’s also iconic is Freddie’s glove. It should add a little completeness to your horror room next to your Freddie Krueger figure. The glove from Rubies with real metal claws will set you back around $70, but it’s a small price for a true horror fan. Or get a signed claw edition from Robert Englund himself. Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th) and Michael Myers (Halloween) – the original or should we say most famous movie slashers that inspired films like I Know What You did Last Summer and Scream. Like Sam and Pumpkinhead, they take equal billing when it comes to supernatural slasher horror films. Both killers have plenty of figures and statues on sale online. Both serial killers also wear iconic masks and just love sharp objects. For these two, there’s no need to keep a life-size statue because setting up their masks in mannequin busts plus their movie knives should be enough. Mezco and NECA and McFarlane sell Jason and Michael figures of various sizes but what you want are the 12 or 18-inch ones for more impact. Such figures will set you back around $150 dollars. But that should be a small setback if you’re a true horror fan. Sideshow's versions are pretty sweet, but you will pay a higher price for that quality here. Around the holiday season, prices always drop too so keep your eye here for them. Funko ReAction - What? No Dracula? No Frankenstein? Unfortunately, they’re not considered so horrific nowadays. Thank you Hotel Transylvania. But feel free to grab these horror staples in detail through the Funko ReAction Universal Horror line. The Universal line includes Dracula, Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, the Wolfman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon and The Mummy. The Funko ReAction line also has many of the folks in this list including Freddie, Jason, Michael, and Sam. Funko is also a great way to begin your horror collection. You could grab these detailed 3.75” figures for less than 20 dollars in various online stores. Haven’t you ever imagined playing a scenario with Ghostface, Pinhead, Freddie, Jason, Michael, and Sam going after the Disney Princesses inside a life-size Amityville dollhouse? Sick, I know. Get pairs as the boxes look too good to open. [gallery size="medium" ids="50052,50053,50054"] We’d like to add a special mention to the Kotobukiya Horror Bishoujo line which re-imagines Hollywood horror legends into their sexy female counterparts. They’ll make pretty good startup figures not just for horror fans but for sci-fi and anime fans as well. As with most Kotobukiya figures, these look amazing and are a great deal for the price.
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