#halloween carnival volume one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

casketsanctum · 3 years

Text

A Ravenloft Reading Recommendation (ARRR!)

Alright, everyone! It's almost Halloween, and you (probably) recently got Curse of Strahd and Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft but you want to know more about these terror-filled prisons. Well, grab your adventuring gear and delve with me into the Domains of Dread! This'll be a long one, so strap in and remember: Mistipedia is your friend.

This list covers Second Edition Ravenloft, Third Edition Ravenloft, and the novels. I can only hope I got everything in this.

Let's start with...

Second Edition Ravenloft

Realm of Terror

This is the original campaign setting for 2e Ravenloft, coming with 144 pages of rules, NPCs and domains, as well as a bunch of other goodies (maps, card stock sheets, and a transparent map overlay). Realm of Terror predates the Grand Conjunction timeline, so in terms of in-game time... it's a bit out of date. A lot of it, according to John Mangrum, is incoherent and many of the dates in this contradict others, so be careful about what you use here.

- You get... Rules for the Demiplane of Dread, alternate rules for Classes, Spells, the Dark Powers Check, fear and horror rules, as well as new spells, new magical items, and the different Dark Lords and Domains you can explore.

Ravenloft Campaign Setting (Box)

The revised campaign setting for 2nd Edition. Takes Grand Conjunction into account. Not to be confused for the book from 3rd Edition.

Domains of Dread

Third and final version of Ravenloft in the days of TSR. Introduces clusters and pocket domains, as well as new secret societies and several new classes. Postdates Requiem: The Grim Harvest.

Masque of the Red Death

A sub-setting of Ravenloft, taking place on a 1890's Gothic Earth.

- The Gothic Earth Gazetteer: Like the Ravenloft Gazetteers, you get details on the lands of Gothic Earth and their inhabitants. - A Guide to Transylvania

And More...

Islands of Terror - Self explanatory, new island domains! Nidala, Wildlands, Sceana, I'Cath, etc.

Darklords - This covers a handful darklords.

Forbidden Lore - A Ravenloft setting expansion. Rules for the Tarokka Deck and Dikesha Dice. Secret societies, spells, cursed items, as well as expanded psionics, curses, and power checks. You also get the domain of Kalidnay.

Forged in Darkness - Lots of cursed items.

Children of the Night: Vampires - 13 New vampire NPCs. Children of the Night: Ghosts - 13 New ghost NPCs. Children of the Night: Werebeasts - 13 New lycanthrope NPCs. Children of the Night: The Created - 13 New construct NPCs.

Champions of the Mists - New heroic NPCs and new Character Kits.

Carnival - NPCs that make up Isolde's Carnival.

Classic Van Richten's Guides (Either 2nd or 3rd Edition)

These have Van Richten lore in it, so I would read these if not for the main content.

Van Richten's Arsenal With VR Arsenal, you get new tools and devices, new arcane and divine spells, new magic items, and alchemical devices and feats. It also comes with Prestige Classes like the Alchemical Philosopher and the Anchorite of the Mists, as well as a guide to plan investigations and battles and plenty of NPC stat sheets with detailed backgrounds.

Van Richten's Guide to Demons

Van Richten's Guide to Ghosts

Van Richten's Guide to the Ancient Dead

Van Richten's Guide to the Created

Van Richten's Guide to the Lich

Van Richten's Guide to the Mists - We usually ignore this book because of it's questionable lore.

Van Richten's Guide to the Shadow Fey

Van Richten's Guide to the Vistani An excellent exploration of Vistani.

Van Richten's Guide to the Walking Dead

Van Richten's Guide to Vampires

Van Richten's Guide to Werebeasts

Van Richten's Guide to Witches Included within VR's Compendium 3.

Van Richten's Monster Hunter's Compendium I (Vampires, Werebeasts, Created)

Van Richten's Monster Hunter's Compendium II (Ghosts, Liches, Ancient Dead)

Van Richten's Monster Hunter's Compendium III (Demons, Vistani, Witches)

Modules

Feast of Goblyns - The first module of the Grand Conjunction series. Domains: Kartakass, Gundarak, Daglan.

Ship of Horror - The second module of the Grand Conjunction series. Domains: Sea of Sorrows, Nebigtode.

Touch of Death - The third module of the Grand Conjunction series. Domains: Har'Akir.

Night of the Walking Dead - Fourth module of the Grand Conjunction series. Domains: Sourange.

From the Shadows - Fifth module of the Grand Conjunction series. Domains: Darkon, Barovia.

Roots of Evil - Sixth and final module of the Grand Conjunction series and the follow-up of From the Shadows. Domains: Barovia.

Death Unchained - Part one of Grim Harvest.

Death Ascendant - Part two of Grim Harvest.

Requiem: the Grim Harvest (Boxed Set) - Death Triumphant, the last part of Grim Harvest.

Death Undaunted - Written by John Mangrum, never published, but still good!! Played it with a wonderful DM.

Book of Crypts - Nine short module anthology. Contains: Bride of Mordenheim, Blood in Moondale, The Dark Minstrel, The Cedar Chest, Corrupted Innocents, Rite of Terror, The Man With Three Faces, The Living Crypt, and Death's Cold Laughter.

Thoughts of Darkness - Elder brains, Mindflayers and a Von Zarovich, oh my! I played this one with a wonderful DM. Very fun.

The Created - Odaire

Web of Illusion - Sri Raji

Castles Forlorn - Forlorn

Dark of the Moon - Vorostokov

Adam's Wrath - Lamordia

The Awakening - Nova Vaasa

Hour of the Knife - Zherisia

Howls in the Night - Mordent

When Black Roses Blood - Sithicus

A Light in the Belfry (Boxed Set) - Avonleigh

Circle of Darkness - G'Henna

Chilling Tales (Anthology) - Through Darkened Eyes (Tepest), Undying Justice (Borca), Gazing into the Abyss (Darkon), Family Feud (Valachan), Surgeon's Blade (Lamordia), Scarlet Kiss (Mordentshire), Ancient Dead (Har'Akir), The Taskmaster's Leash (Dementlieu)

The Evil Eye - Invidia

The Nightmare Lands (Boxed Set)

Neither Man Nor Beast - Markovia

The Shadow Rift

Vecna Reborn

Die, Vecna, Die!

Third Edition Ravenloft

Ravenloft Third Edition (Campign Setting)

An update of Ravenloft to 3e.

Ravenloft Dungeon Master's Guide

Campaign creation, creating domains and communities, sinkholes of evil, samples of NPCs, as well as psionics and magic within Ravenloft. Cursed / Magic Items. Basically chapter one of Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, but more fleshed out.

Ravenloft Player's Handbook

New mechanics like class weaknesses and magic ratings.

Secrets of the Dread Realms - Contains a new prestige class and a list of darklords by domain (with detailed backgrounds!)

Denizens of Darkness - New monsters! (3e)

Denizens of Dread - New monsters! (3.5e)

Heroes of Light - Focuses on heroic characters and deeds within Ravenloft. Prestige classes, secret societies, NPCs, and a heroic campaign guide.

Champions of Darkness - Focuses on anti-heroes. Prestige classes, secret societies, NPCs and an anti-hero campaign guide.

Legacy of the Blood - THIS IS A GOOD BOOK. Details on several powerful familes of the Core. Includes options to make characters related to that family and story hooks that go with it. Includes: Boritsi, d'Honaire, Dilisnya, Drakov, Godefroy, Hiregaard, Mordenheim, Renier, and the Von Zarovich families.

Masque of the Red Death (3rd Edition)

No modules in this one.

Ravenloft Gazetteers

A DM's dream come true... You get a massive amount of information and lore with these. Comes with a side-story. Very good!

- Volume 1 - Barovia, Hazlan, Forlorn, Kartakass

- Volume 2 - Darkon, Necropolis, Lamordia, Falkovnia

- Volume 3 - Dementlieu, Richemulot, Mordent

- Volume 4 - Borca, Invidia, Verbrek, Valachan, Sithicus

- Volume 5 - Nova Vaasa, Tepest, Keening, Shadow Rift

Modules

Dark Tales and Disturbing Legends - More modules! This is an anthology.

Expedition to Castle Ravenloft - Update to I6: Ravenloft.

Novels

Vampire of the Mists (Good!)

Knight of the Black Rose (Not a big fan of Soth, in my honest option.)

Dance of the Dead

Tapestry of Dark Souls

Carnival of Fear

I, Strahd (A classic.)

I, Strahd: The War Against Azalin (Read this one. Excellent!)

The Enemy Within

Mordenheim

Tales of Ravenloft (19 Short Stories - The Caretaker is my favorite. It has Strahd.)

Tower of Doom (Personally, if you don't want your eyes cursed, I would not read this. This has been a warning. I told you so.)

Baroness of Blood

Death of Darklord

Scholar of Decay

King of the Dead (A must-read. It's that good.)

To Sleep with Evil

Lord of the Necropolis

Shadowborn

Spectre of the Black Rose

Heart of Midnight

#ravenloft #curse of strahd #van richten's guide to ravenloft

65 notes · View notes

iheartsunset · 4 years

Note

I have precisely 1 headcanon for Brody and it's so sucky that I have to leave it in the replies. I wonder, do you have Brody headcanons

Papa Louie Brody HCs

(I too have precisely only 2 headcanons about Mr. Sockhands McGee over here, I’ll try to extend it to like 7 sit something tho)

-Brody Fairbanks is a 20 year old art student and multimedia artist, famous across Flipline for his skill across various mediums, whether it be through paintings or sculptures. He also has skills in multiple other areas of work, though he’s so indecisive, he can’t seem to decide what he wants to do with his life. He currently lives in his art school’s Toastwood dorms, but occasionally goes back to stay with his roller coaster technician brother, Brad, in Powder Point. When he’s not looking pensively at artworks in museums, he’s watching movies with his best friend, Skyler Lockett.

-Brody is a knowledgeable guy who often thinks he’s being humble, but in reality, is being a bragging snob. He also likes to give unwarranted advice and it just makes you want to slap him, but begrudgingly admit that it was helpful. This makes most people neutral about him, but he often earns their respect through his emotional artwork. He also loves analyzing things and finding the deeper meaning, but sometimes he gets carried away with explanations and will sound pretentious.

-Whenever something goes wrong, he and Skyler just start singing “The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup!” Or Baka Mitai. It confuses a lot of the older residents (especially Rita, who watches movies with them a lot), but meme enthusiasts like Tohru and Scooter will also join in.

-He changes the socks on his arms depending on the season. For example, he’ll have Christmas socks in the winter and Halloween patterned socks in the fall. These are mostly the only thing he changes about his outfits, as he basically wears the same thing all the time. The socks have also given him weird tan lines thanks to the Toastwood sun, but Brody still won’t learn his lesson. He also uses the socks to clean his glasses and it doesn’t work because you don’t use socks to fleas glasses (I speak from experience).

-He and Skyler wear some sort of steampunk AU character costumes for Halloween. Then they’ll sneak in Kit Kat’s and butterfingers into the old movie theater and watch its scary movie marathon. Some Halloween’s, they’ve ended up sleeping overnight in the theater, or end up dragged out and driven home half asleep by Rita, who can’t help but care for everyone around her. Anyways, they’ve recently decided to become haunted house actors since sleeping overnight in a theater or Rita’s couch isn’t ideal.

-He has illustrated many picture books and manga volumes under the pseudonym “Antoine Fairlove”, which was taken from one of Skyler’s old historical fiction novels as well as a painting of his that depicts a couple kissing at a carnival. This was also his wattpad and DeviantArt usernames and he’s working on forgetting all the cringeworthy stuff he wrote and drew on there, so he’s currently just going by Brody Fairbanks, his literal name.

-Olivia likes to hire him to paint faces at the kids’ parties she plans. He always does an amazing job, but he doesn’t like how kids always smudge it or can’t sit still while he’s painting it. However, he likes money and using his artistic skills productively, so he doesn’t complain too much. He totally steals a slice of cake too and will go in the bouncy houses.

-The only art medium he isn’t good at is graffiti. He likes to try to teach the young artists other less illegal forms of art, like painting on a canvas that isn’t private property. His current student is a young boy from Sakura Bay named Luo Wong. (one of my OCs, you might have seen him on my amino somewhere) who doesn’t enjoy Brody’s presence, but is interested in art school.

-Brody seems pretty cool and he’s Skyler’s best friend, and I’m partially in love with Skyler, so he’s alrighty with me. I also do absolutely hate socks, especially the white ones with the blue and red stripes on top, those are the worst, and I especially hate when they’re worn on arms. All in all, mixed options on this dude, mostly 2/10.

#flipline studios #papa louie #flipline #my hcs #Brody #luo wong #I hate socks on arms #seriously I do #I get they don’t like charcoal on the arms but why socks #anyways Skyler and Brody are BFFs #art snob brody

9 notes · View notes

stella-monstrum · 3 years

Text

Rob Zombie; "Why it's time to step outside the confinements of his own box."

For close to four decades,

Rob Zombie has brought nonstop psychedelic grooves and a rockstar presence while gracing his own music and the silver screen with gut-churning, drug-tripping visuals. He not only commands quite the presence in films (whether his own successes or others’), but also makes appearances within many other horror soundtracks. There’s no denying that Zombie is a bloodied savant who has stayed incredibly consistent.

[ᴿᵒᵇ ᶻᵒᵐᵇᶦᵉ. ⁽ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ: ᴳᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ ᴵᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ⁾]

(Written by Stella, edited by Jacob J.)

(Side note; tumblr’s photo formatting is a pain)

Let’s take a dive into his music before getting into his film library. From 1985-1997, White Zombie released six albums (between studio and compilations). La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Volume One didn’t break into the Billboard 200 chart until a year after its 1992 release. Shortly thereafter, it became the hot and groovy bong success of the band, going on to sell two million copies. Astro Creep 2000, their final and fourth studio release, was their first and only album to chart within the Top 10 of the Billboard 200 in 1995. Up to this day in 2020, “White Zombie” has been featured in 47 TV, film, and video game soundtracks, from Beavis & Butthead to Pen15 to Bride Of Chucky (which includes a personal favorite moment of mine), amongst many others.

After the disbandment and separation, Zombie continued on his solo journey. He has gone on to release six studio albums, with a seventh on the way in March 2021, titled The Lunar Injection Kool Aid Eclipse Conspiracy. A multitude of hits—eight to be exact—sat within the Top 10 of the Billboard 200 records.

══════════════════

Zombie’s extensive film career is a “Super Beast” on its own.

He has been very vocal about gaining inspiration from 1920s-1980s horror culture. In many interviews, he’s cited Stan Lee, Bella Lugosi, Alice Cooper, and Steven Speilberg as being responsible for molding the brain that we know today.

Some of his influences include:

George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (1978)

A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

The Shining (1980)

Zombie’s upbringing in the carnival industry alongside his family is another key influence.

[[I’ll only be focusing on Zombie’s live-action films here.]]

══════════════════

In 2000, Rob made his directorial and (very memorable) screen debut with House Of 1000 Corpses.

It took three years to be released because of quarrels with major production companies regarding the film’s majorly aggressive themes of torture, blood, violence, sex—not to mention his arrogance with MGM, fighting to get rights back from Universal. Eventually, Lionsgate bit the bullet, albeit with the major stipulation of having Rob edit it down much further so House could pass with a “tame” R rating.

[[House of 1000 Corpses: Rainn Wilson as taxidermy merman (Source: Tumblr—and if you’re brave, you can view the scene here.)]]

══════════════════

In 2005 and 2019, the franchise’s next two installments—Devil’s Rejects and 3 From Hell—were released. The franchise is heavily influenced by the shocking, sickening, and unforgettable ’70s classic Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It follows a family of psychotic, sadistic, and bloodthirsty (if I’m being honest) necrophiliacs. They kidnap, kill, torture and brutalize anyone who gets in their way. At the end of Devil’s Rejects, they somehow manage to survive a police shootout, escape prison, and waltz on into Mexico (as seen in the franchise finale 3 from Hell).

Look, it’s all complicated.

Main Characters from the franchise:

Captain Spaulding—Sid Haig

Baby Firefly—Sheri Moon Zombie

Otis B. Driftwood—Bill Moseley

Momma Firefly—Karen Black (recast as Leslie Easterbrook after Karen’s passing)

(Other notable appearances throughout: Chris Hardwick, Rainn Wilson, Danny Trejo, Dee Wallace, Ken Foree, and Diamond Dallas Page.)

⁽“ʰᵒᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗʳⁱˡᵒᵍʸ”, ᵈᵛᵈ ˢᵉᵗ﹔ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹔ ᵗᵃʳᵍᵉᵗ.ᶜᵒᵐ⁾

══════════════════

The notorious/controversial Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978) remakes from 2007 and 2009.

(ᵃ ᵛⁱᵉʷ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒˣ ᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁽ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹕ ᵃᵐᵃᶻᵒⁿ⁾)

Look, this is a remake that you either adore or hate with a burning passion. If you’re a horror fanatic, you know what’s up with the original.

I personally adore Zombie’s take. The fact alone that he gave us an entire background story as to why Michael became the psychotic slasher that we’ve come to know and love. Plus, with an increased suspense and gore factor? Worked incredibly well and did justice (in my opinion).

The film made me feel bad for Michael, with moments of child Myers in therapy, particularly his love for making masks to pass the time while he was locked up and the touching family moments between him and his mother Deborah (Sheri Moon).

ᵈᵉᵇᵒʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᶜʰᵃᵉˡ ᵐᵉʸᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʲᵃⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉʳᵃᵖʸ. ⁽ˢᶜʳᵉᵉⁿᶜᵃᵖ, ʰᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵉⁿ. ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹕ ᵍᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ⁾

[Michael’s cell in the 2007 Halloween remake. (Source: Google)]

Add in the supporting cast of Michael McDowell (Loomis), Brad Douriff (Sheriff Leigh), Scout Taylor-Compton (Laurie Strode), etc., and I honestly think that it came together very well as a remake.

The films rated relatively low, but they did gross higher than the budgets that they originally had to film on. Again, I’m not going to give much attention to the higher-ups of critical perception—it all comes down to personal taste.

══════════════════

“Lords of Salem” (2013)

[[Promotional art for Lords of Salem. (Souce: Google Images)]]

A film that’s centered within Salem, Massachusetts,

this film—you guessed it—tackles witches, occultism, possession, Satan, and all the usual topics. Heidi (Sherri Moon) is a radio DJ who gets sent a mysterious record that’s labeled as being from “The Lords.” From then on out, shit gets a little dicey and admittedly, very disjointed. You can’t fault the cast here, and I loved the visuals that they were going for. However, with set schedule conflicts and multiple rewrites, which led to essentially running out of time to film? As a whole, what looked great on paper just couldn’t be done justice.

My FAVORITE sequence within the film (SPOILERS):

youtube

I can forgive the disjointedness solely because of how mind-boggling and brilliant the film’s history and proper visuals were. Also, we got to see Dee Wallace, Judy Geeson, and Patricia Quinn as creepy and badass witches who moonlight as Heidi’s landlords. Also Meg Foster who leads their coven? Can we talk about what a femme-fueled power cast that is?!

[[Left to right: Patricia Quinn as Megan, Dee Wallace as Sonny, and Judy Geeson as Lacy Doyle. (Screencap, Lords of Salem. Source: Google) ]]

[[Meg Foster as coven leader Margaret Morgan. (Screencap, Lords of Salem. Source; google)]]

Like I said prior, the film gets a little wild. If you’re...well, buzzed prior to watching, it may make a little more sense.

══════════════════

“31” (2016)

[[Film poster for 31 (Source: Google)]]

[Synopsis from IMDB; “Five carnival workers are kidnapped and held hostage in an abandoned, hellish compound where they are forced to participate in a violent game, the goal of which is to survive twelve hours against a gang of sadistic clowns.”]

Here, we clearly see that Zombie is invoking his childhood growing up within carnivals. In a 2013 interview with LA Weekly, Zombie divulged more about it:

“When we were kids, my parents would [work at the carnivals], and me and my brother would get dragged along to these things all the time and have to work.”

He went further on to say;

“Yeah, and it's not the nicest world. As a kid, you get exposed to the crazier underworld of the carnival. Me and my brother, when we were very little, we'd be inside the haunted house playing all day. So, already, what people are paying money to be scared [of], we're just playing in because it's fun. We saw the inner workings behind the machines.”

youtube

(”31″ trailer, source; Youtube)

Once again in this film, Zombie brings a powerhouse cast:

Jeff Daniel Phillips as Roscoe Pepper

Meg Foster as Venus Virgo

Malcom McDowell as Father Murder

Judy Geeson as Sister Dragon

Richard Brake as Doom Head

You can view the entire cast at IMDB here.

Set in 1976, Zombie stays true to his nods. Again, depending on taste, this is a huge hit or a wild miss with mindless homicidal violence, campiness, and climbs across the monkey bar of standards that we’re used to seeing from him.

══════════════════

So at this point, you’re probably wondering why I think that it’s time for Rob Zombie to step out of the confinements of his own box...

══════════════════

It’s no secret that Zombie sticks to only a small group of tropes:

Slashers, families or groups of homicidals that lack remorse, the occult, etc. There’s no shame in sticking to what you know. Hell, Zombie has seemingly cracked the code over the past two decades that he’s been in the film industry that so many directors still don’t seem to get.

IMO, despite whatever you personally feel about the films mentioned above- I feel like we’re living a freaky groundhog day repeat within Zombie’s filmography.

══════════════════

Now, if it ain’t broke, why fix it? Look, I’m not saying that Zombie has to change anything. However, I would love to see him tackle some other nuances that we’ve already seen from him in small doses.

- Children: We haven’t seen Zombie exactly take on what horror films depict kids as. Sure, he made a breakout and impeccable choice with young Michael Myers (Daeg Faerch) back in 2007. I personally would adore to see a reimagined (NOT remade) Children of the Corn on acid, one we all know Zombie can tackle and turn every existing view on its head.

- Witchcraft, The Occult, Satan, Voodoo: Zombie genuinely had a phenomenal concept (on paper) for 2012’s Lords of Salem. It was unfortunate that they ran out of resources and ran into unfortunate circumstances on set while filming.

The film wasn’t a total tank, though, given how inspiring and insane all the visuals were throughout the 1 hr, 41min film. I am absolutely positive that, given a full-force opportunity, Rob could rectify the mess that was out of his control. We completely saw that he provided visuals that left quite the impression, and he could take those taboo subjects by the goat horns.

- Animals (not the human form): It’s no secret that Rob and his wife Sherri are ethical vegetarians. It would be so tongue and cheek to see them take on such topics as animals getting their revenge, or even vegetarians torturing carnivores. This twist on the formula would make for an interesting viewing.

══════════════════

2.) In regard to time periods,

Zombie stays within—and pays homage to—the 1970s and 1980s quite a bit. Obviously, those are the eras that Zombie personally loves the most when it comes to filmmaking. However, it would be very interesting to see him take on current day settings.

Zombie has such a unique viewpoint. Given changing climates in politics, human decline/growth, the economy, etc., he would do work that could easily put Ryan Murphy to shame.

══════════════════

3.) He could also do with some different casting every now and then.

Let me preface this by saying that I adore every repeat casting choice that Zombie has made for his films.

Of course chemistry is a huge thing, and sticking to his friends is a very smart choice. However, he also has the potential to make new stars, boosting the power of those that may be under the radar. He can support those new stars with cameos from classic actors that we haven’t seen in awhile. I can’t begin to even fictionally cast those who fit the bill, but I do believe that with the “Zombie Touch,” he can bring so much more fresh air to the usual casting.

══════════════════

There’s no doubting what Rob Zombie is clearly very good at. Despite mixed reviews from the horror world and critics, it’s time that his fans open their eyes to new possibilities. Of course, there are die-hards, but digging your feet in further doesn’t allow the growth of horror and its ever evolving themes.

[[ʳᵒᵇ ᶻᵒᵐᵇⁱᵉ, ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹔ ᵍᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ ⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ]]

This theory has been on my mind for a very long time—since 3 from Hell came out. I’m sure, in his usual fashion, we won’t be seeing any new films from Rob anytime soon (what with his new album set to release in March 2021, not to mention the toll that the pandemic has had on Hollywood.)

Still, it never hurts to challenge the set standards and ways.

5 notes · View notes

shock · 5 years

Note

hey there! :) hope youre havin a nice day. im sick and bored and in bed rn reading and doin other various things, and i was wondering what movies/books etc. you enjoy?

i don’t watch much BUT i definitely have some stuff i’ve really enjoyed! hope you get well soon!

tv shows: maniac, american gods, LOST, black sails, doom patrol, batman the animated series (i recc this a lot to people who love cartoons but don’t know/care much for superhero stuff, this show was in my opinion pivotal and groundbreaking for cartoons. some of the stories told are also some of the most engaging and humanizing and nuanced, especially with subjects around mental illness and grief), red vs. blue (i'm hesitant to recommend anything RT-related but church’s arc is one of the coolest character studies ever and one of the best representations of DID in media i’ve seen, i personally think someone on the team must have had personal experience with it), preacher, wolf’s rain, being human, peaky blinders, hannibal, and then what i know is on netflix... nailed it! (yes the cooking show), anthony bourdain’s parts unknown, the good place, the twilight zone

movies: big fish, in bruges, plague dogs, what we do in the shadows, trance, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, the way he looks, i love you phillip morris, john dies at the end, the truman show, under the red hood, nightcrawler, fear and loathing in las vegas, get out, batman forever (legitimately my favorite movie of all time), gone girl, the birdcage, lovely bones, 12 angry men, all the lego movies, but i’m a cheerleader, us, the royal tenenbaums, the devil’s carnival p1+2, the ballad of buster scruggs, hellboy (the old ones), pan’s labyrinth, baby driver

books: his dark materials, house of leaves, woman on the edge of time, days in the lives of social workers, good omens, trainspotting, loneliness: human nature and the need for social connection, when rabbit howls, notes from underground, girl interrupted, all of lewis carroll’s works, fight club, i don’t read many graphic novels outside of DC comics but if you like batman or anything similar my favorite one-offs are the long halloween, hush, and zero year (i think there’s 3 volumes?). also DC Comics - a visual history is a fun read.

#unabashedloving

11 notes · View notes

mygrandmathinksimsassy · 6 years

Note

Maddie, I need kindergarten/daycare teacher Ben Solo in my life like I need Adam in a brocade dinner jacket.

(This was initially going to be a prompt fill and now it’s a whole thing that I’ll be posting to AO3)

“You’re a teacher?”

Ben doesn’t look like a teacher. At least not like any teacher Rey has ever had.

Finn covered her halfof rent last month.

Rey thought she’d havegot a research job by now, or at the very least, an internship she could dopart-time while working somewhere else for what would hopefully be more thanminimum wage. She doesn’t need a career just yet, just something that looksdecent enough to talk about if she ends up getting any interviews for any ofthe schools that have asked for secondary applications, but apparently that isasking too much.

It’s taking a bit toolong to get hired.

Finn might have tohelp with the next month too.

–

She owes him one. Sheowes him thousands of times for everything he’s done for her since they satnext to each other in that physics class he ended up dropping when he decidedpre-med was not for him, but she definitely owes him at least one.

Finn has been teachingfor about a month now, at the ritzy elementary school on the other side oftown, the one that looks like something out of a movie. It’s the sort of placeshe would have killed to go to as a kid, a place where they send thesixth-graders to a wilderness camp every year and the textbooks were written inthe past decade.

It’s the kind ofschool that has enough money to throw a carnival to welcome back theirstudents.

The kind of carnivalthat apparently needs volunteers.

–

It’s eight on a Fridaynight. Finn has been passing out by nine every night since he’s started, wornout from keeping up with a class of thirty third graders, but he’s wide awakeright now.

Apparently, it’s timeto collect.

“I don’t think I’mqualified to run a first aid tent.“

The Great British Bake-Off drones on in the background when Finn asks herto fill in for a parent volunteer who dropped out the night before. If shemisses Mary Berry complain about a “soggy bottom,” then that defeats the entirepoint of the drinking game she found when drafting cover letters got a bit toooverwhelming.

“It’s not like you’regoing to have to operate on anyone,” Finn says. “We just need a warm body tohand out band-aids. You can say it’s clinical experience. It’ll look good onyour resume.”

Someone ends updropping their cake, a confection that looks nothing like the tastefulillustration they had been shown at the beginning of the episode. and they bothreach for their glasses of the cheapest wine she could find at Target.

“I will pay you infriendship- “

“We’re already friends.”

“Then I will also payyou in takeout afterward,” Finn tells her. “Whatever you want. My treat.”

“Indian food or I’ll quit.”

“Whatever you want.”

She was always going to say yes. Finn knows that. She knows that.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the bribe.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank god.” Finn letsout a sigh and sinks back against the couch they found on the side of the roadwhen the college kids moved out of their apartments at the end of the schoolyear.

It’s still a prettydecent couch. It hardly looks like it came from the street.

“I already signedyou up.”

–

The school Finnteaches at is nice.

Like really nice.

Nice enough where shefeels bad for showing up in jeans and a t-shirt that she got from doing a 10k afew years back.

The moms are allwearing Lilly Pulitzer in shades that run the gamut from aqua to lavender. Afew of the more daring ones are in green. All of them have blow outs and roundsunglasses perched on their heads complete with iced coffees that seemed gluedto the inside of their hands.

The dads are all inthe same light blue button down tucked into the same pair of khakis. It’s likethey all agreed on a uniform beforehand and she pities any kids who get losttoday because they are going to have a hell of a time.

She follows Finn througha balloon archway toward a makeshift fairground covered in orange and bluedecorations. A handful of kids wave to him when Finn makes it onto the campus,calling out his name like he’s a rock star trying to make it out of an airport.They are all thrilled when he waves back at them and it’s worth it to volunteereven if it’s just to see how happy Finn is now that he’s in his element.

There are roughly ahundred different booths with different carnival games and kids already liningup to win stuffed animals and way too much candy.

It might be the bestparty she’s ever been to.

–

The first aid tent ison the corner of the makeshift fair grounds, just across from a ring toss gameand right by where someone is setting up a popcorn maker.

The department chairFinn works with, a swanlike woman named Amilyn, is already waiting. She’s got ahead of pink hair with a matching pink stud in her nose and a maxi dressunderneath a flowy rust-colored cardigan. There are Birkenstocks peeking outunderneath the hem of her dress with pink leather straps, ones that lookwell-worn like she’s been holding onto them since Lilith fair.

There was a car in theteacher’s parking lot covered in political bumper stickers urging passersby to“Coexist.”

One guess as to whoseit was.

"You must beRey,” she says. There’s a unicorn already painted onto her face, but somehow,she makes it work. “Finn has told me so much about you. I feel like I knowyou already.”

She must look panickedat the notoriety because Amilyn smiles in an almost maternal way.

“Only good things,”she tells her. “Let’s get you set up.”

Rey is given a firstaid kit with plenty of band-aids and a cooler filled with water bottles andjuice. There are two folding chairs with “Chandrila Elementary” embroidered inblue fabric on the back and a little trash can just behind the table.

“If you need anything,I’ll be at the face painting booth pretending I know how to draw.” Amilyn givesthe tent a once-over. “Seriously, don’t hesitate to let me know if you needanything.”

“It’s ok,” Rey tellsher. “I’ll be fine.”

When Amilyn leaves thetent, it looks like she’s gliding.

The DJ- the schoolseriously hired a DJ-is playing a “Hey Ya!” at a volume so loud that Rey canbarely hear herself think. There is no chance any of these kids know whatsong is playing, but that doesn’t stop them from dancing. They’re all too youngto care about how they look, dancing just because there is music and because itseems fun, and she lets herself focus on something other than waiting for anyof the places she’s applied to call her back.

It’ll be ok.

If it’s not, there’sonly six hours to go.

–

Running the first aidtent isn’t that bad. Definitely worth the promise of as much takeout Finn iswilling to put on his credit card.

A handful of kids comein with banged up knees from falling on the black top, in need of bandages andjuice boxes before they’re ready to get back to the fun. They’re allsurprisingly well-behaved, all saying please and thank you without anyprompting from the parents who all seem way more worried than they do.

One of the moms stopsby and asks if she has anything for a migraine. When she offers up an Advil- byfar the strongest thing she has- the mom reluctantly accepts.

It’s pleasant. Boring.

Until one of the dadsstops by.

He definitely doesn’tlook the other dads.

For one thing, he’ssoaking wet. His dark hair is dripping, but still long enough to reach where acollar would be and the shirt he’s wearing- a bright orange monstrosity withthe words “Chandrila Coyotes” emblazoned on the front- sticks to his chest. Hischest is broad- big in a way that makes her think he must spend every freemoment in the gym- and she can pretty much see all of it with just how wet heis. His arms look like they might burst through the fabric. She can only hopeshe’s there when they do.

Instead of khakis,he’s in black swim trunks that cling to his thighs. His surprisingly muscularthighs.

The swim trunks clingto other parts too. They are doing an excellent job.

The only thing thatmakes him seem remotely mortal, is just how horrible the color contrast is. Helooks like he’s some sort of walking billboard for Halloween who wanted tostart the ad campaign about two months early, but she finds it in herself toforgive him for the misstep.

He’s definitelydifferent from the other dads.

She tries not tostare, but she must be staring, because it’s like she’s forgotten how to speakuntil he clears his throat.

“I cut my arm onsomething.“

He has a nice voice.Deep. The sort of voice people would pay good money to have narrate a naturedocumentary.

She remembers just howwords work and then promptly embarrasses herself.

“Is that how you gotcovered in water?”

“It was my shift inthe dunk tank.” He says this like a dunk tank was the obvious answer, but she’snever really spent much time around kids, so it might very well be. “Someasshole sixth grader spent ten dollars trying to knock me in.”

“I thought that wasthe whole point of a dunk tank.”

He looks at her withexasperation, practically rolling his eyes, and she shrugs her shouldersbecause it’s the only thing she can think to do.

“Can you just look atmy cut?”

She motions to thefree chair and her mystery patient takes a seat. He is too big for the chair,the same way he’s too big for his shirt, and when he holds up his forearm forher to inspect, it’s a wonder she can actually focus on the cut.

He is wet, but whenshe takes his arm, he’s warm.

The cut isn’t too bad-nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days so long as he doesn’t pick at it-but it’s the most blood she’s seen all day, so she can’t really fault him forcoming by. She lets the evaluation take longer than it needs to be, studyingthe muscle in his arm before glancing down at his hands.

He has nice hands,this mystery DILF, big hands that might be larger than her face. There isn’t aring on his finger and she didn’t think she was at that point yet, to ogle strangemen and wonder if they’re married, but apparently, she is. It’s a realizationthat makes her feel a little old, but she doesn’t have enough time to dwell onit when he speaks again.

“What’s the prognosis,doc?”

“I’m not entirelysure,” she says. She’s still holding onto his arm, but he doesn’t pull away, soshe keeps holding on. “But I think it’ll have to come off.”

He smiles at that,revealing teeth that are big and white and imperfect. His eyes crinkle up allsmall and she is so pleased with herself, so pleased to have earned this smile,that she can barely stand it.

“I figured as much.”His voice is completely dead pan when his face fades back into an exasperatedneutrality. “Just give me some whiskey and a stick to bite on and we’re good toamputate.”

“I don’t have anybooze with me.”

“That’s a shame.”Mystery DILF lets out a melodramatic sigh, but his lips still curl up at theends, the ghost of a smile. “I’ll just settle for gangrene.”

She smiles before shereaches into the first-aid kit and pulls out a fresh baby wipe to mop up theblood.

Mystery DILF watchesher when she cleans his cut, in a way that makes her acutely aware ofeverything that she’s doing, every brush of the wipe against his muscularforearm, every time she sucks in a breath. The way he looks at her makes timeslow down somehow, until the dulcet tones of “Gangnam Style” blaring in thebackground fade completely away.

It’s overwhelming, notin a bad way, just overwhelming and so she tries to make conversation becauseit feels like she might float off the ground.

“How old are yourkids?”

“I don’t have any kids,”he scoffs. “I work here.”

“You’re a teacher?”

He doesn’t look like ateacher. At least not like any teacher she’s ever had.

“Would I be at anelementary school carnival if I weren’t?” Mystery not-DILF says. “I’m herebecause I have to be. Trust me, I have better things to do.”

He hasn’t beenbleeding for a few minutes now, but she can’t stop touching his arm.

“Most people likecarnivals.”

“Most people don’thave to deal with parents bugging them the entire time,” he says. “We’ve onlyhad two weeks of classes and I already have at least five different peopleasking about their kid’s college readiness. It just starts earlier eachyear.“

“What grade do youteach?”

She’s thinking sixthgrade. It’s a nice image, the thought of him unraveling the mysteries of theancient world, using his deep voice to introduce kids to the classics.

“Kindergarten.”

“Bullshit.”

She snorts, and helooks like she slapped him.

“It’s notbullshit,” he says. “I promise.”

“You don’t seem like akindergarten teacher.” She struggles to find the right word for what she’strying to convey, to reconcile the thought of this man with his broad shouldersand deadpan expression surrounded by screaming kids that just barely come uppast his knee. “Kindergarten teachers are supposed to be…”

“Supposed to bewomen?” He says with a smug expression. “I get that a lot.”

“That’s not what I wasgoing to say.”

“What was it then?” Heraises his eyebrows expectantly. “Enlighten me, doctor.”

“They are supposed tobe nice.”

“I happen to bevery nice.”

“I don’t know,” shesays with a shrug. “You just called a kid an asshole like five minutes ago.”

“I’ve known that kidsince he was five. I know for a fact that he is an asshole,” he tells her.“That doesn’t mean I’m not nice.”

He doesn’t seem like amean person, but she doubts that this man is nice.

Nice men don’t wearshirts that cling to every muscle. Nice men don’t look like him.

“How did you end upworking the first aid tent in the first place?” He asks. “You just decided tobe a Good Samaritan for the day?”

“My roommate just startedworking here last month,” Rey tells him. “He guilted me into volunteeringbecause he knew that I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

“Finn Abejide,” shetells him. “He’s teaching third grade.”

“I know who he is,”the guys says. “I didn’t know he had a roommate.”

He says this likehaving a roommate is some grand revelation. Which is bullshit.

Lots of people have roommates.

“Well now youdo.”

She lifts the secondbaby wipe from his arm and reluctantly lets go.

“What type of band-aid do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

She chooses two of thebandages from the most sparkly of the boxes she’s been provided.

Not because she thinkshe’ll be embarrassed. If he chose to wear that shirt, then he’s definitely pastthe point of embarrassment. But because it amuses her. Because the quickershe picks out a band-aid, the quicker she can get back to touching him.

She gently adheres theband-aids- purple ones with horses printed all over- and he smirks when helooks down.

“Twilight Sparkle,” hesays. “Excellent choice”

“How do you know MyLittle Pony?” She zips up the first-aid kit. “They’re a little after your time.”

“I spend most of myweek with five-year olds,” he says. “I have forgotten more about My Little Ponythan most people will ever know.”

He leans back in hischair and there’s no real reason for him to stay- he’s no longer bleeding andhe’s all patched up, so she uses the only tool left at her disposal.

“Do you want ajuice box?” She reaches into the cooler, fishing for what’s left of herhaul. “I’ve been giving them to every patient.”

"Sure,” he says. “Whynot?”

She hands one to him.When he takes it, his fingers brush against hers.

His hands are way toobig for the juice box-it’s meant for someone tiny and everything about him ishuge- and when he jams the straw in, a few droplets splatter on her shirt.

“Sorry about that,” hesays sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to get you wet.”

He realizes what he’sjust said just about when she realizes it.

His mouth gets allsmall like he just sucked on a lemon and she is not blushing, why would she beblushing. That would be stupid.

The silence that hangsbetween them is almost painful. The conversation that follows is even worse.

"This is good juice.”

"It came with thetent.”

“Still goodthough.”

He finishes the juicebox in another lengthy sip. When he’s done, he crumples it into a ball and aimsfor the little recycling bin in the corner. The crumpled juice box landswith a thud.

When he stands up fromhis chair, she has to crane her neck up just to take him all in.

"I’ll see youaround.”

He leaves her with anod, the sort of stilted one guys use to greet each other on the street, andshe nods right back.

It’s only after he’sgone that she realizes she never got his name

–

The booth is prettymuch dead for the rest of the day and so she watches the ring toss game sinceher phone is essentially dead.

A little boy, probablykindergarten age but there’s no way she really can tell has spent the lastthirty minutes trying to win a stuffed animal. His aim is terrible, bad enoughwhere half the rings land on the ground, and she can hear the beginnings of atantrum when her Patient Zero swoops in.

He’s basically tallerthan the booth so it doesn’t take him that long to land all three rings on thebottles set up behind the partition. The woman behind the booth hands him astuffed animal alligator and then he crouches down so he’s eye level to thekid.

He hands the alligatorto the kid- a dark haired little boy with skinned knees- and the boy sweeps himinto a hug. Her patient hugs right back and she looks away when he catches herwatching.

–

She looks for him whenthey walk back to Finn’s car, hoping to get a name or maybe even another smile.

But Patient Zero isalready gone when they leave

–

Finn buys enoughtakeout to last them through the weekend.

"I promise Ididn’t mean to abandon you-“ Finn opens one of the containers and the smell ofsamosas fills the air. Her stomach rumbles like she’s just remembering thatshe’s hungry and she looks forward to the food coma that is sure to come. “-Ihad to convince like twenty of my kids to ask for balloon animal snakes becauseI couldn’t figure out how to make anything else.”

"It’s alright.”She spoons half the Chana Masala onto her plate. It might the happiest she’sever been to see a chickpea. "One of the teachers got hurt so we hung outfor a bit.

"Who wasit?”

“I don’t know,” shesays. “A guy teacher.”

“Was it Mr. Yoda?”Finn asks hopefully “Because I want him to be my grandpa. I will give him theadoption papers to sign if I ever figure out his first name.“

"This guy wasn’treally grandpa age.” Her mouth is still half full. "I didn’t get his name.He was a kindergarten teacher. Tall.”

“Are you talkingabout Ben Solo?"

“You know I don’t knowwho that is.”

"You would knowwho he is. He’s a dick.” She studies each portion of the last samosa beforefinally taking the one that’s about three millimeters thicker. Finn pops theother half in his mouth but that doesn’t stop him from ranting. “He’s the onlyguy even close to our age and I think he’s said like three words to me since Istarted. I literally have not seen him talking to another adult. It’slike he’s made it his mission in life not to make any friends.”

"I don’t know.”

She reaches for thelast samosa and thinks about the man who won a crying kid a toy.

“Heseemed nice.”

#reylo ficlet #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #rey of jakku #kylo ren #ben solo #rey x kylo x hux #rey x ben solo #teacher!AU #this is my life now #let me know what you think #because this might be a multi-chapter opus #jadeddiva #reylo prompt fill

251 notes · View notes

michaelpatrickhicks · 6 years

Text

Review: Dog Days O' Summer by James Newman & Mark Allan Gunnells

My rating: 3 of 5 stars I flat-out loved James Newman's Odd Man Out and enjoyed Mark Allan Gunnells' #MakeHalloweenScaryAgain, a novella printed in 2017's anthology Halloween Carnival Volume 1, enough that immediately after finishing each of these respective works, I went and bought a bunch of both men's other titles. When I learned they were co-writing a novella together, and a werewolf story at that!, I was overjoyed. But, before I go any further I'm going to preface the rest of this review with a big, ol SPOILER WARNING. I have some contentions with the story, particularly its resolution, that require discussing in ways that I can't quite get around or be as oblique as I would like. It may be information you'd rather not know, in which case I'd say skip out on reading any further until after you've read this novella. Feel free to come back later, though! OK? Let's proceed. Dog Days O' Summer is certainly well-written, but ultimately a serviceable mid-90s coming of age story about a group of teens facing the inexplicable. It's a classic, well-mined set-up, but it lacks any real suspense or surprises. We know right from the get-go this is a werewolf book, and anybody who has read or watched at least one of these types of story previously will be screaming at these young boys to just figure it out already. When Jason, our 14-year-old first-person narrator, finally gloms onto what's really happening here, we breath a sigh of relief that, finally, at least one of these kids has caught up with us. Granted, Jason is relaying to us a story of past events from some point in his future, with all the build-up and foreshadowing that entails, and it's occasionally clunky given we already know more than Jason presumes of us. This is the type of book where it's more about the journey towards discovery for these boys, until their finally forced to accept the ultimate truth and contend with it. Although Dog Days O' Summer doesn't offer up anything new, it mostly gets by on the easy likability of its characters (except for Jason's Bible-thumping parents; they're the sort of gospel music 24/7, Ten Commandments throw rug, holier-than-thou Christians that wander through the story looking to me like a werewolf buffet on feet), the smooth, easy reading prose, and the occasional bit of titillation from some particularly gnarly and graphically described murders. After the boys discover the killer's journal, Newman and Gunnells offer up a healthy number of diary entries charting one man's descent into madness, initially trying to deny what is happening to him before finally embracing his newfound powers with bloodcurdling effect. I did greatly appreciate the authors challenging typical werewolf conventions though - there's no full moon and no silver bullets, for instance (although we get a few too many knowing winks and cutesy nods at werewolves in pop culture along the way). Instead, Newman and Gunnells explore some deeper, older mythological roots of werewolf lore related to star system Sirius, or Dog Star as it's more colloquially known. Although they get points for creativity here, I was rather disappointed by the appearance of a last-page trope that has quickly become overdone in horror circles - the "make of it what you will" ending. While it doesn't exactly come out of nowhere given Jason's well-established interests and his narration recalling the deeds of decades past, I'm growing rather tired of endings that call into question the validity of all that came before in lieu of aiming for a satisfactory finale. Dog Days O' Summer came pretty close to ending on a highly interesting note, but the authors undermined it with a few extra paragraphs that attempt to spin Jason's story into metafictional realms. I'm sure there's a segment of readers out there that will appreciate it, but frankly I'm bored, and more than a little irked, with these type of bait-and-switch gotcha! twists that attempt to upend the entire narrative at the last minute. Dog Days O' Summer is a short, unchallenging read that hits a few more high notes than it does low. It's more of a slim comfort read than an essential addition to werewolf legend - not that there's anything wrong with that - but I was hoping for something a bit more substantial from the pairing of Newman and Gunnells given the all-too brief sampling I've had of their individual works. It's not as great and ambitious as I had hoped for, but despite it not meeting my perhaps much too high expectations, Dog Days O' Summer isn't so bad I need a hair of the dog to recover. [Note: I received an advance copy of this title from the publisher, Unnerving.] View all my reviews

#Dog Days O' Summer #Unnerving #James Newman #Mark Allan Gunnells #werewolf #horror #book reviews

2 notes · View notes

angelcakedraws · 6 years

Photo

Here’s my main Cuphead oc, Natalie and her bio: Name: Natalia Bell Nickname(s): Natalie, Nats Age: 21 Birthday: March 14 Species: Brown Long Eared Bat Height: 5’4 Wingspan: 9ft Eye Colour: Desaturated Orange Skin/Fur: off white with light brown ears and paws Hair: Dark brown Personality: Cheerful, Very caring and sympathetic, short tempered and sensitive, sarcastic at times(She bottles up her emotions until she is alone to let them out), jokeful and loves to scare her friends, Acts like a 5-year old, Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Single, Has a crush on Cuphead (DON'T KILL ME FOR THIS PLEASE.) Fears: Spiders, Drowning, having no friends Issues: Bottling up her anger causes it to end up being worse when she lets it out, and she is super sensitive. She has freckles but she hides them with ink (or foundation or whatever they use in this universe), she'd be very embarrassed if someone found out about her freckles, her sister was the only one who knew about them. Family: Summer Belle (Sister, Died of Ink Illness), James Belle (Twin Brother, Alive in Colony), Amelia Belle (Mother, Deceased), Ash Belle (Father, Alive and moved away) Millie Belle (Grandma, Alive in Colony) Interests: Adventures, Fighting, Singing, Scaring Likes: Bailey(Her hyena witch friend), strawberries, rainy days, jewels, music Dislikes: The Heat, Dancing, Perverts, Messes, Judges, Bugs, Sharp rocks Favorite Colour: Green Favorite Food: Chocolate Covered Strawberries and fish Favorite drinks: Dark Hot Chocolate Favorite Season: Autumn Favorite Holiday: Halloween Favorite Weapon: Her White Steel Sword Favorite Time of Day: Twilight Favorite Flower: Plumeria Favorite Gemstone: Opal Favorite Element: Air Least Favorite Colour: Yellow Least Favorite Food: Peas Least Favorite Drink: Soda Least Favorite Season: Summer Least favorite Holiday: St. Patrick's Day Least favorite Weapon: Guns Least Favorite Time of Day: Dawn Least favorite Flower: Carnations Least Favorite Gem: Tobaz Least favorite Element: Fire Stats: Adventurous: 5 Agility: 4 Confidence: 4 Cooperative: 2 Courage: 4 Creativity:2 Flexibility: 5 Generosity: 4 Honesty: 3 Intelligence: 4 Loyalty: 4 Patience: 2 Respect: 3 Responsibility: 4 Sociability: 5 Stamina: 4 Wisdom: 3 Vocal Characteristics: Voice: Smooth and slightly high, gets raspy when she raises it laughter: Cute but almost obnoxious Volume: Loud and Boisterous Other Facts; -when Natalie moved to the town after the war, she had to adjust from being nocturnal to being diurnal (awake during day and asleep at night), she adopted fairly quickly, but still stays up very late and sleeps late into the day. -before the war, she was an entertainer, doing trapeze and singing at local circuses and carnivals. - Backstory: (Disclaimer: This is brief and will be updated to be more detailed in time) On March 14, Natalie was born into a family of 5, with her older sister,her older brother, her father, her mother, and her grandma in a small village called Milidoria. Even as a baby, her family could see her energy bursting in her eyes and they knew she would be a handful her whole life. As a child, she was very different from her siblings, being very outgoing and adventurous, and always wanting to be outside. Her siblings were particularly close with her when she was young, and that how she met her friend, Bailey, who was also digging in the dirt with her. However, with Natalie being nocturnal, their play dates never lasted for more than a few hours, but that few time they had they cherished and became the best of friends. When Natalie reached double digits, her siblings started to get more rough and open, so they became closer with her, also Natalie started to get interested in glam, much to her sister’s liking, so they had little makeovers almost every night. She also went to many fairs and performances with her family, watching many different actors and performers do crazy tricks and sing amazingly. This encouraged Natalie to try trapeze and singing, though she and her parents knew starting this late would cause her to have to work extra hard. Starting late did cause her to have many problems, she knew nothing about the terms, and her voice wasn’t very strong at all. This also caused the other kids, who were more advanced than her, to make fun of Natalie, attempting to discourage her, which worked for almost half a year. Her parents were extremely supportive of Natalie and helped to ignore the bullies and work even harder, which she did. After working extra hard in and out of her classes, she started progressing fast, soon enough, she finally caught up to the kids who made fun of her. Their shock made Natalie feel confident and strong, and she worked even harder to try and surpass their work. Unfortunately, she put too much work on her hands during trapeze one day, and she fell off the Lyra(metal hula hoop thing) and broke one of her ribs. This caused to have to rest for almost half a year, which broke her heart. However, the silver lining to this injury is that she had more time to work on her voice, which she had almost tossed aside completely. Every night she would sing different songs, practicing new notes and chords, and even practicing the long notes. She had a favorite song the loved to sing, called Lollipop, which she sang almost every day and night. She did this for many years, even making it her career. But then the war arrived, and it required many soldiers, which the Town lacked greatly. Natalie was reluctant about this, but her and her siblings all signed up to join the fight, training hard every day in camp to stand up for what was right. Natalie’s sister, Summer, was promoted to general very quickly, making Natalie and her brother slightly jealous. They fought furiously on their first days of battle, though many cuts, wounds, and bruises spotted their bodies, they were determined to keep fighting. One day, an immense amount of enemies arrived t their village, taking many people and their lives. Summer, who was already badly hurt, went up to face their general in battle. Natalie and her brother were too busy fighting off other enemies to help their sister, which then was the worst mistake of their life. When all the enemies they were fighting were dead, they saw something catastrophic. Their sister had been impaled, straight through the heart, with the enemy’s sword. THey both shrieked in horror, flying as fast as they could to go kill the thing, hurting themselves badly in the process of doing so. After the battle was over, Natalie and her brother, James, sobbed over the death of their sister, carrying her cold body away from the battlefield, to take her where she could be put to rest. A day later was the funeral, all of the healthy troops were there, even some of the injured ones came to salute their general, but the Belle family cried and cried all day, grieving over their sweet little sunshine. They buried her beneath a sycamore tree, her favorite trees to climb, hoping she would be happy in the skies until they reunited with her. Their father, overwhelmed with grief, moved away from their family into a small town far away. After a few years, the family fully recovered from their losses, and the war was over. James had found himself a wife and were soon to be married. Natalie however, was searching for adventure in the great wide somewhere (lmao), and told her mother she was moving to a neighboring town. She packed her things quickly, kisses her family goodbye, and was off to a new life. When she first moved to the town, she was actually a little shy, seeing all these new faces, and she knew how much she’s have to change about her old lifestyle to suit this whole new world (i'll never stop). After moving into her new house, she got herself a job as an entertainer again, and she enjoyed having her old life back. While taking her day off at a bar, she noticed two boys who immediately grabbed her attention. They appeared to be brothers, both having cups for heads. She went to go converse with them, which was not too easy, but eventually found out their names were Cuphead and Mugman. She took an extreme liking to the two, in her mind she made two new friends. After that, she met with them often, becoming closer to them each time they hung out. Natalie knew her new life in this place would certainly be interesting. (So yeah! That’s Natalie’s full bio, I hope you enjoyed her story!)

12 notes · View notes

ghostbustermelanieking · 7 years

Text

shadow demon; part one: october 30, 2017

s11 spec. based off a prompt by @firstofoctober: Mulder and Scully find themselves wrapped up in an unexpected case at a Halloween carnival when a teenage boy asks for their help.

happy halloween!

Another hotel room, another state. Wyoming is surprisingly chilly for October, and Scully has bought bulk in jackets for Mulder that she will inevitably steal. The suitcases they bought in a Walmart in Tennessee still have the tags on them, and they have black zip-up bags full of rolls of cash in the glove compartment. They keep their guns on their waist and their car keys in their pockets. They've lived like this before, except for one notable difference: before, they were running away from their son (running away from his memory). Now, they're running to him. If they can find him.

They didn't tell Skinner where they were going. They needed his help, but they didn't trust him. Don't trust him. They don't know who they can trust anymore. A night with bullets flying through their living room, guns to their heads and cold metal around their wrists as they were shuffled out to a car together, chains clinking between them. The close escape, the stumbling run into the woods. Deciding to disappear as she picked the lock with a piece of wire while Mulder rubbed her thumb with his. Meeting Skinner in the parking garage. They lied, told him they went to Massachusetts. They've been heading west. They're looking for their son.

Scully is sitting on one of the beds of the hotel room, trying to hack into public records without setting off about a million alerts to their location. They've barely made any progress on searching for William because of their fear of being caught. The new Syndicate seems to be more tech-savvy than the old one ever was; they found them last time because of a search on fucking Google. Langly taught them how to set up a private, untraceable connection. (Years in a bunker had taught him a lot of new tricks.) Mulder's running out to pick up dinner, and she's trying her best to distract herself until she gets back so she doesn't panic, doesn't think too much about what could be happening. Her fingers click-clack over the keyboard, the blue of the screen lighting up her face, and she's so concentrated in what she's doing that she doesn't hear the pounding footsteps outside until the door bursts open.

She jumps, eyes widening as a lanky kid bursts into the room, Mulder on his tail. “Mulder, what's…” she starts, uncertain.

“It's a long story,” Mulder says. His hand is on the shoulder of the boy and he nudges him towards the bed gently. The kid is trembling, so pale that Scully can count all of his freckles. “This is Dr. Scully,” Mulder tells him. “She's my… my partner.”

The kid nods, seemingly distracted, hands balled up in his jacket pockets.

“This is Jackson,” Mulder says evenly. “He's, um, he saw something.”

Scully blinks. “Saw something?”

“It was the carnival,” the kid croaks. “There's something evil in there, I swear. I saw it. I barely escaped.”

Scully reaches out and feels his forehead with the back of her wrist. He's freezing, covered in a cold sweat. “I'm going to get you some water, okay, sweetie?”

Mulder squeezes his shoulder again. “Stay here, we'll be right back.” The kid, Jackson, nods, staring at his knees. Mulder follows her into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Mulder, what… who is that? What's going on?” Scully hisses, taking a paper cup from the counter and filling it with water.

Mulder gulps, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was at a convenience store, putting groceries in the trunk of the car,” he says. “And this kid comes running out of the woods, looking scared out of his wits. He was sprinting, Scully, he had a baseball bat in his hand, he almost brained me with it when I stopped him. He said something was chasing him, he said it took his friend. He flipped out when I offered to take him home or to the police station, said it wouldn't help anything. He said his parents weren't even home in the first place, and whatever it was would come for him if he was alone. I couldn't just leave him there, Scully.”

“Where the hell did he come from?”

“He said he was at a carnival or something.”

Scully chews her lower lip nervously. “It's good that you helped him, but, Mulder, we can't do this right now. I think we need to take him to the police if someone's gone missing…”

“We can't,” Mulder says. “They'll never believe him, what he saw. Besides that, it's a teenage boy and everyone always likes to say they've run away.”

“That doesn't matter. If there's been a disappearance, the police need to be notified. Besides we're supposed to be low profile, and we don't even know if he's telling the truth!”

He motions frantically for her to speak quieter. “He's telling the truth, Scully. I saw… it.”

She’s strangling the paper cup a little in her fist; she sets it down, sitting down on the edge of the tub. Her head hurts a little at the prospect of another X-File; after the doppelgangers in Idaho and that case with the fucking statues, she'd hoped their bad luck had run out. “What is… it?” she asks wearily.

“It's a demon.”

Mulder turns away from her, revealing the kid standing in the doorway. Jackson. His face is flushed, dark hair hanging in his face. “Or… something,” he adds. “I'm not sure what, exactly, but it… it followed me. It took Danny and it followed me.”

Scully swallows. “Danny’s your… friend?”

Jackson nods solemnly.

“Here, let's talk out there.” Mulder motions Jackson out of the room, hand on his shoulder. Scully follows quietly. Jackson sits on one of the beds and they sit across from him on the other one. “Tell Scully what you told me,” Mulder says encouragingly, squeezing her knee. “She may seem skeptical, but she comes around most of the time.”

Scully might’ve slugged him if it weren't for the circumstances, the nervous kid shifting on the bed across from them. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, says, “Okay.” He gulps, chews his lower lip. “Okay, um. Danny and I went to this traveling carnival thing. They're new in town and all, right? Mom and Dad are out of town and I was staying--am staying--alone, so I figured, you know…” He shrugs. “Thought it'd be fun. So we went, and we hung out, and we went through this haunted house thing. And that's where it was.”

He's quiet, knee bouncing frantically. Mulder squeezes her knee again. “What's it, Jackson?”

“I dunno, I don't…” The kid is shaking his head. “We went into this room, this really dark room. We couldn't see anything, no one jumped out at us. We were just kind of walking through this room when we heard laughter, this awful hysterical laughter. Not cheesy movie laughter. Danny had kind of been making fun of the whole thing, making snarky comments the whole time. So he yells, he yells, um, ‘Where the hell’s the scare?’ or something like that. And the laughter stopped. The laughter stopped, and uh, I felt this scratch on my leg.”

Jackson leans down and motions to his leg. Scully looks, too, and sees a long scratch along his leg, right through his jeans, coated in dried blood. “Oh my god,” she says, horrified. “You need to get that looked at.”

Jackson waves his hand impatiently. “It's not a big deal. Danny is the one in trouble. He's the one they took. I was trying to figure out what had scratched me and he made this awful gaspy sound, almost like… almost like he didn't have time to scream. I just, I looked up and he was gone.” He gulps. “Just gone. And I have no idea where… no idea what… I yelled his name, I whirled around looking for him, but I couldn't find him. I couldn't see the exit but I could see the entrance, I tried to run away but I couldn't, someone grabbed my ankle and yanked me to the ground. The door slammed shut. And then I heard the growling… I felt this awful, cold feeling, and something's hot breath on my face... I screamed and screamed, but no one listened. Everyone's fucking screaming in a haunted house.” The kid shudders. “I thought I was a goner until someone opened the door. The thing was gone, just like that. I don't even know how it happened. I got up and ran out, and I told the attendants that Danny was gone, and they helped me look for him, but he was gone, too. They thought he was playing a prank on me, they didn't believe me. But I stuck around to try and look for Danny. I looked through the entire carnival, but I couldn't find him. And that's when I saw it watching me… watching me from the shadows.” He chews his lower lip, picking at a thread in his jeans. “That's when I ran.”

Scully gulps, looking at the long wound along Jackson’s leg. Something definitely scratched him there, got him good. She can't say what it is. But she can tell that the kid isn't faking; the tremor in his voice, the haunted look in his eyes speak volumes. She's seen that look on Mulder's face again and again through the years. She addresses Mulder: “And this is what he told you?”

Mulder nods solemnly.

“He said you were FBI,” Jackson says suddenly, eagerly. “FBI agents who work on paranormal cases. He said you could help.”

Scully bites her lower lip, considers. He might be lying, her rational side reminds her. And he very well might be. But she isn't getting that vibe from him. He's clearly distraught, clearly hurt, and if he's telling the truth, then another child is missing. In danger. Mulder says he saw something, and whatever he saw (a human killer or… otherwise), it could be pursuing this kid. She can't just leave him alone.

“Yes,” she says, even though the words feel clunky in her mouth. “We can help.”

---

There is some friction at first. Scully insists that they need to notify, if not the police, at least Danny’s parents. Jackson insists that they can't. “Danny’s parents are out of town, too, they're best friends with my parents and they all rented a cabin together… they left Danny and me alone to, like, test our responsibility or whatever,” he says, flapping his hand dismissively. “And you can't tell them; if you tell them, they'll freak out. It's better if we can find him without them ever having to know.”

“They're his parents,” Scully says insistently. The thought at the back of her mind is her son--her son, who would be about the same age as Jackson. Her son, who she'd hate to think about being pursued by a monster or murderer or whatever without her knowing. She wishes she knew he was safe--she wants to give these parents that advantage. “They need to know that their son isn't safe, and so do yours.” She thinks the police need to be involved, too, but selfishly, she wants to keep this under the radar, at least until they know how serious it is, how much danger this child is in. For their sake, for William's. “I'm fine with leaving the police out of it for now, but your parents need to know.”

Jackson looks from her to Mulder eagerly, like he hopes Mulder will be on his side. To Scully's astonishment, Mulder is nodding in agreement. “She's right, kid,” he says gravely, and she wonders if he's thinking of Samantha. Or William.

Jackson looks nervously between them before sighing. “All right.” He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. “But let me call them, they'll freak out if a stranger is calling from my phone.”

Scully nods her assent. “I want to talk to them, though. And as soon as you finish calling them, you need to let me clean up your leg, check it for infection.”

Jackson nods, standing. “I'm going to take it outside,” he says, grabbing the baseball bat. “So you guys can, like… figure out a game plan or whatever.”

“Be careful out there,” Mulder says quickly. “Stay close to the room, and we'll be right inside if you need us.”

Jackson looks at the guns on their waist, nods. The door creaks horribly when he exits the room, the bat thumping against the door frame.

As soon as he's gone, Scully turns to Mulder. “Tell me exactly what you saw,” she says quietly.

Mulder nods, catching her hand against his chest. “It was right after I stopped him. He was explaining, practically babbling, and I looked over his shoulder and I saw a… a clown in the woods.”

“A clown?” He nods seriously. “I knew seeing It was a mistake,” she says dryly.

“Well, he wasn't in the sewer and he didn't offer me a balloon, but it was definitely a clown. In the trees, right where Jackson came out. Staring right at me.”

Scully considers. “That puts the possibility of a human perpetrator into the mix,” she says. “If it was a clown… they were in a haunted house, he could've used the advantage of darkness and sound effects, he could've cut Jackson and abducted Danny…”

Mulder is smirking at her. He pats her hand as if comforting her. “Nice try, Scully, but your theory doesn't fit with how quickly Danny disappeared, the fact that Jackson saw nothing. Or the fact that I saw the clown disappear.”

“What? You saw him disappear into thin air?”

“Not exactly,” Mulder says, hesitating. “He was… he sort of melted into the shadows.”

Scully blinks at him. “He melted into the shadows,” she repeats in a deadpan.

“Exactly.”

“He couldn't have just… stepped into the shadows and used the advantage of darkness to hide.”

“No, definitely not. I'm telling you, Scully, I saw him, he saw me, he smiled at me, and then he melted into the shadows. It was like he became part of them.”

“That's impossible, Mulder.”

“Not if it was a demon, like Jackson said. A demon could take on different forms like that. A shadow demon, maybe…”

Scully suddenly remembers the teenager on the other side of the door. “Jackson,” she says, dismayed, letting her breath out with a whoosh. “What are we going to do with him? We can't leave him alone, but we can't take him with us while we look for his friend… I don't even know where to start looking for his friend, Mulder. What do we do here? It'd be better if we could call the police…”

“You know we can't do that, Scully.” He slides his fingers through hers and squeezes. “As soon as we make that phone call, or use our badges, the Syndicate will catch up with it. Cancer Man will find us, him and his new little lackeys. And we can't just turn him over to the police because they'll never believe him.”

“They will if it's a human kidnapper,” Scully says stubbornly.

“You know it's not a human kidnapper, Scully.”

“I know nothing of the sort.”

“You're in denial, Scully. Jackson and I both have proof that it was something supernatural, eyewitness accounts.”

Scully sighs, lifting her hand to her temple. “Okay. Fine. Whatever. But what do you want to do now, Mulder? What do you want to do now?”

“Why don't we sleep on it? It's late, and we'd probably get busted for breaking and entering if we went to the carnival this late. And the kid needs some rest, Scully, he's running on pure adrenaline right now.”

She sighs again, takes her hand out of his. “You're right,” she says. “Do you want to just stay here? He could have the other bed.”

“Seems like the best idea. We can't leave him alone, not with a demon after him.”

A thought occurs to her, a particularly unwelcome one. “Mulder,” she whispers, stepping closer. “If you really think a… demon or a monster is pursuing Jackson… how can we protect him? Or ourselves, for that matter? How can we fight something like that off?”

Taken aback, Mulder pauses, chews his lower lip nervously. He opens his mouth to answer.

The door creaks open, and they turn to find Jackson standing in the door, cell phone in one hand and baseball bat in the other, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “They want to talk to you,” he says, shoving the phone towards Mulder.

“What did they say?” Scully asks.

“They freaked out,” he says. “Just like I said. They want to come back right away, but they're in Colorado so it’ll take a while… especially because of the snow, it snowed the other night… Mom calmed down a little when I told her you were FBI agents, but she wants to talk to you.”

Mulder takes the phone, uncertainly. Jackson is still bouncing, eyes too big for his face, long cut down his leg looking worse in the moonlight coming in through the door. “Why don't you let me take a look at your cut while they talk, sweetie?” Scully offers.

Jackson nods again, in agreement, and comes into the room, closing the door behind him. “Oh, and I didn't see the thing, Mulder,” he says. “The… shadow demon thingy. I haven't seen it since the woods. That's good, right?”

“That's great, kid,” Mulder says, audible relief in his voice. He raises the phone to his ear and says, “Hello? Ma'am?”

Scully leans Jackson into the bathroom. “Can you roll up your pants leg a little bit, sweetie?” she asks. “I'm a doctor, I know what I'm doing.”

Jackson props his leg up on the toilet. On the other side of the wall, she can hear Mulder giving his name and badge number. God, she hates this; if Skinner really is working with the Syndicate, if they catch up with them, they may never find William. Or the Syndicate will find him first. She hates this. She knows it's important, knows they can't leave another child alone, in danger, but she hates this. She wants to keep looking for their son.

She wets a cloth under the faucet and hands it to Jackson. “Here, try to wipe the blood off,” she says, grabbing for the black bag of medical supplies she insisted on bringing.

“No, no, Jackson is fine, Mrs. Van de Kamp,” Mulder says outside. “Danny… We're not sure what happened to Danny. We only know what Jackson has told us.”

“I felt awful,” Jackson says, passing the cloth back to her. She rinses it in the sink and drapes it over the side of the counter. He’s chewing his lip nervously, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Having to tell Danny’s parents… it was awful.”

“Jackson told you… yes, we're here on… vacation, and I ran into him. I wanted to help… I felt like it was my duty,” Mulder is saying.

“I know the feeling,” Scully says. “In our line of work, you have to give people bad news a lot. Here, sweetie, put some of this on the cut.” She passes him the Neosporin.

“I can assure you we are trained for this, and will do everything in our power to protect Jackson and find Danny,” Mulder says, and she hears the thud of him leaning heavily against the wall. “We just want to help him.”

Jackson's shoulders are stiff. “They thought I was lying at first,” he says to the rug on the bathroom floor. “About the thing. I had to swear a thousand times that it wasn't a prank. I still don't think they believe me, that a demon took Danny… they're just panicked he's missing.”

“It's up to you, whatever decision you want to make, but if you're really stuck up there, my partner and I would be glad to protect Jackson and search for Danny until you get back,” says Mulder.

Scully pulls a roll of bandages from the bag. “I'm just gonna bandage your leg, okay, Jackson?” Jackson nods. She crouches on the floor beside him and begins to wind the bandages along the cut. “You and Mulder would have a lot to talk about,” she says. “He has a long history of not being believed.”

“You guys investigate, like, ghosts and shit, right?”

“Something to that degree, yes.”

Jackson snorts. “I'm not surprised, then. I mean… I would've thought this entire thing was batshit a few days ago. I never would've known… until I felt it. I've never felt that before.” He gulps. “Even if my parents don't believe me… you believe me, right?”

Scully swallows, cutting off the end of the bandages. “Yes,” she says, getting to her feet. She doesn’t know if she’s lying to be reassuring or not. “Yes, of course we do.”

Mulder appears in the doorway, holding out the phone. “Jackson? They want to talk to you again.”

Jackson nods, headed towards the door. “Thanks, Scully,” he says, taking the phone.

“Of course,” Scully says, nodding. It feels strange to have a child call her Scully, but then again, that’s probably what Mulder called her the whole way back to the hotel.

Jackson steps outside of the room to take the call. “They're suspicious, understandably,” Mulder tells Scully. “And frantic. But they didn't see any other choice. I think the FBI thing comforted them. They said they're gonna try and leave the mountains tonight. They want us to protect him in the meantime, keep an eye on him. I said he could stay here, and they didn't seem to think there was any other choice. He doesn't have any family in the area or anyone to stay with.”

“Okay.” Scully licks her lips. “Okay, so. They know who we are? Our real identities?” She knows that they do, Mulder wouldn’t have given out his badge number if they didn’t.

“Yeah.” He swallows, shoulders hunched up sheepishly. “I'm sorry, Scully. But it seemed like the best option to protect the kid.”

There are things she wants to say--maybe protests, maybe an agreement, maybe just an acknowledgement. But Jackson appears in the door before she can. “Got cut off,” he says. “Bad signal. But Mom says to tell you guys that they're on their way.”

“That's good,” Scully offers.

“Yeah, um. So I guess I'm staying here tonight?”

“Yep,” Mulder says, in a thickly false-cheerful tone. “Guess so.”

---

Scully sends the kid on to bed after he gets off the phone. (It feels bizarre to be doing this with a stranger. Mulder can't help but wish that it was their son they were spending time with. A look at Scully's laptop reminds him that they are going to find him.) Jackson protests vehemently, wants to go looking for Danny right away, but he immediately conks out when he climbs into bed. Mulder recognizes that kind of furious adrenaline turned to exhaustion. They'll find his friend in the morning, he hopes. If he's not already dead.

He and Scully crawl into the other bed, somewhat awkwardly, actively aware of the other presence in the room. They haven't shared a hotel room with anyone else that they can remember, and it's uncomfortable as hell. Haven't shared a room in general with anyone besides the dog and their newborn son. But Scully must be exhausted, too, because she falls asleep almost instantly, too.

Mulder can't sleep. He tosses and turns for hours, the breaths of a stranger unnerving. He gets up for a drink only to find the ice bucket full of liquid, pulls on his/Scully's jacket and leaves the room in search of ice. The breezeway is empty, save for a paper skeleton fluttering from one of the railings. He walks through the chilly air to the vending machines, fills up the ice and heads back. He is not thinking about demons when he hears it: a sharp scraping sound.

At first, Mulder can't find the origin of the sound. He looks right and left and in front and behind him. He'd be halfway convinced he imagined it if it weren't for the repeat of the sound, a long, drawn-out scrape, metal against metal. It seems to be coming above him. He looks up and hears it again, on the other side of the roof of the breezeway.

Heart pounding, Mulder steps off of the breezeway, onto the lawn, and looks up onto the roof. A girl is crouched there, dressed in a torn white dress and sharpening a knife. A sharp shreet sound, then another. Shreet. Shreet. Mulder almost can't breathe, is too captivated to look away. The girl, bending over her knife, seems to sense someone watching her. Looks up and reveals her obvious makeup, the white and red splotches on her face and body. She looks like an actress in a haunted house. But she smiles at Mulder, and that smile is not human.

She drops the stone, raises her knife. Mulder starts to back away, hand reaching for his gun.

The girl shrieks, a horrible sound, and raises her knife before lunging at him. Mulder staggers backwards, raises his gun and fires at the girl, aiming for an area that won't be fatal in case he is wrong. The bullet makes no impact, only blows the girl backwards onto the breezeway. Mulder steadies himself and aims the gun.

The girl stands slowly, brandishing her knife. She is glaring at Mulder, her eyes as inhuman as her smile. She makes a low growling sound in her throat and steps towards him, but the creaking open of a door and Scully’s frantic, “Mulder?” stops her. Her eyes flicker down the breezeway, towards their room, and blessedly, she doesn't head towards the sound. She instead steps backwards into the shadows and simply disappears, much in the same matter that the clown did.

“Mulder!” Scully is there, suddenly, gun drawn, Jackson right on her tail. “What happened?” she demands.

“We need to go,” Mulder says. “We need to go, right now. Scully, get the car keys.”

She doesn't argue, mercifully; there'll be time for that later. She disappears back to their room. Jackson stays, staring at Mulder in astonishment. “You saw it, didn't you? You saw the demon,” he says knowingly.

Mulder gulps, nods.

---

He tells them what happened on the way to Jackson's house, where they're planning to wait out morning. Jackson starts nodding instantly when Mulder describes the girl. “She was in the house, just like that,” he says. “Sharpening a knife above us, and then she jumps down at you. I think she was on a harness or something. Danny laughed so hard…” He stops, mid-sentence, and some familiar dark emotion flits over his face.

“Jackson?” asks Mulder, hoping to distract him. “Were there clowns in the haunted house?”

“Oh, yeah. Whole freaky room full of white stuff and strobe lights and clowns getting up in your face. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Mulder says. He exchanges a look with Scully, who clutches the steering wheel a little harder, grinds her teeth in frustration, but says nothing.

They get to Jackson's house relatively quick, a charming farm house with Van de Kamp painted cheerfully on the mailbox. Jackson lets them in with his key. “Make yourself at home or whatever,” he says, flipping on the lights.

“Thanks, Jackson,” Scully says as they come inside, into the living room. “Do you go by… Jack or anything?”

“Just Jackson.”

“Okay.” Scully smiles a little. “Jackson, you should get some sleep, okay, sweetie? We'll stay awake. We'll take care of you.”

Jackson shrugs. “I don't want you guys to get hurt.”

“We have guns, remember?” Mulder says, half teasing.

“Oh, right.” He shrugs sheepishly, grinning a little. “I'll be upstairs, I guess. Good luck shooting the demon, Mr. Mulder.”

“Just Mulder is fine,” Mulder says.

“Mulder,” repeats Jackson, waving awkwardly at them before turning and leaving the room, his feet pounding the stairs.

The strangeness of being in a stranger's house only increases when they're alone. Scully exchanges an uncomfortable look with Mulder as she sits on the couch. He sits beside her, close enough that she can feel the body heat coming off of him. “Are you hurt, Mulder?” she asks, shuffling her fingers through his hair.

“I'm fine, Scully. She missed me by a mile.” His shoulder bumps hers companionably. “It was weird as hell, though.”

“Not really,” she says thoughtfully. “I have a new theory. What if the employees of the haunted house are working together on this? They might be trying to scare people somehow… this could be some kind of prank on Jackson, hell, his friend could be in on it… or maybe they're trying to kill Jackson and his friend. Or they kidnapped the friend and don't want Jackson to expose them. Whatever the case, I think the employees are the perpetrators. That would explain why you saw the clown and the girl with the knife that Jackson remembers from the house.”

“But it doesn't explain how they literally melted into the shadows, Scully. Or why my bullet had no effect on the girl.”

“You said you shot at her shoulder? Maybe you missed her.”

“She was blown backwards from the blow, Scully.”

“You could've been seeing things.”

Mulder rolls his eyes, highly exaggerated. Scully smirks a little at him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, whatever the case, I'd say this all warrants looking into the carnival tomorrow,” he says, giving in a little. He puts an arm around her shoulders.

“How the hell are we going to do that?”

“I brought our badges, remember? If we can convince the carnival people not to call the local police, then no one will ever have to know outside of the boys’ families.”

“Hmm.” Scully turns her face into his shoulder, her hair brushing against the bare skin of his arm below his sleeve. “And what if someone does happen to let it slip that Agents Mulder and Scully are in small town Wyoming?”

“As soon as the kid is safe, we make a run for it.” She’s quiet, leaning into him. He presses a kiss to the part of her hair. “Come on, Scully, you have to admit that the kid isn't safe.”

“He's not,” she says. “I just… oh, I don't know. I'd feel better if his parents were here. Or the police, or someone who could actually protect him.”

“We can protect him. We might be the most qualified to.”

Scully lifts her head, her blue eyes glinting in the darkness. “It's not a shadow demon.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

“Twenty-four years together, Mulder. What did you expect?”

Mulder grins, hand running up and down her back. “Follow the evidence, Agent Scully.”

She licks her lower lip determinedly. “I'll make you a deal, Mulder. If it's proven--concrete evidence--that the people or things pursuing Jackson are, in fact, human, can we call the police and let them take charge in this?”

“That would be more than responsible, Scully, if humans really are responsible.” She nods, satisfied. “But if they're not human…” he ventures.

“Oh, great. How, exactly, are we going to catch that? We're not the Ghostbusters, Mulder.”

“Oh, you loved the remake,” he teases her, and she gives him a look somewhere between a glare and a prodding: Well? “I'm working on a plan,” he says. “First we need to find out what happened. Establish a timeline. See if we can discern Danny’s whereabouts.”

“And get some sleep.” Her hand is on his cheek. “You look exhausted, Mulder.”

“I'm not exhausted,” he protests, but the fatigue is creeping up on him like the rising tide. Scully gives him a knowing look. “It feels wrong to sleep in a stranger's house.”

“We don't have any choice; we have to protect Jackson, and we couldn't stay at the hotel.”

“What if that thing comes back?”

“Then I'll shoot it.” Scully looks vaguely amused. “I have plenty of practice. Go to sleep, Mulder. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

He concedes, kisses her forehead and curls up against her on the unfamiliar couch. Upstairs, a teenage boy they have inadvertently become responsible for sleeps. “Hey, Scully?” he mumbles, head against her hip. “This is one of the more bizarre things we've done, don't you think?”

“This is more bizarre than the lizard-human?” He doesn't say anything. She sighs, says, “Yes, it is.” They both know why, know what is at the back of their minds. They don't speak on it.

Scully traces lines on his forehead and orders him to sleep. He drifts off slowly, dreams restlessly of knives being sharpened, the sound scraping his ears, and a little boy with Scully's eyes staring up at him.

#happy halloween #i'm mostly posting to force myself to pull this all together tomorrow and post it #but i'm so close!! i can't believe i finished #i have an actual halloween fic thats not a lame sweatshirt joke based off of something that happened to me #this year i'm doing an actual costume so #xf fanfic #i wrote this

62 notes · View notes

talesmaniac89 · 7 years

Text

Virtual Scares

Summary: Sam x Reader - The reader gets a VR headset to challenge her boyfriend, Sam, who swears horror games and movies doesn’t scare him

Triggers: Horror games, clowns

Word Count: 1654

Y/N = Your name ¦ Y/L/N = Your Last Name

---

“What’s that (Y/N)?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his cup of coffee whilst setting the cup he had been offering you back down on the table then he saw the box in your hands. His hazel eyes filled with questions as to what his techie girlfriend had ordered now.

“A VR headset!” You exclaimed cheerfully as you carefully put the heavy box down on the table with a soft thud before happily reaching for the coffee instead. Now, your day was perfect. It was Halloween, you had your boyfriend, caffeine and on top of it all an amazing new toy to play with!

“Why’d you buy that?” Sam asked as he reached for the box only to give you a wry half smile as you playfully swatted his hand away from your newest gadget. Yet you could see by the curiosity in those big warm eyes that he still wanted to see what was inside the box just as much as you did.

“Remember how you told me horror movies and games don’t scare you?” You sing songed as you took another sip of coffee, careful not to burn your mouth, before reaching for the box yourself and carefully removing the tape with a grin.

“Yeah?” Sam said, his eyebrow raised in a half cocky smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. Already seeing the challenge though you had yet to present it with him.

“Well.. It’s Halloween, so I’m gonna prove you wrong,” You said with a laugh as Sam playfully messed up your hair and, being bigger than you, easily lifted you out of reaching range of the box. “Hey!” You chuckled as he unceremoniously dropped you down on the couch before hurrying back to the box on the table.

“If you’re gonna be challenging me with it, I think it’s only fitting that I have the first look,” Sam said with a crooked grin and the bright eyes of a kid at Christmas as you scrambled out of the couch, going slower than necessary as you let the hunter have it his way.

“You’re a big kid sometimes, you know that Winchester?” You laughed and hurried over to stand next to him as he unboxed the techie miracle as if it was some expensive treasure. Treating it with the reverence you, as a gamer, really believed it deserved.

“And you love me,” Sam shot back grinning as he moved cables out of the way and instead pulled up the main headset, holding it out in front of him as if he was looking through it. And damn it, looking at the adorable big dork you couldn’t help but agree. You really did love him.

---

“Ok, so I’ve accepted your challenge and everything has been set up,” Sam said an hour later as you surveyed your work as ensured the camera and everything else connected to the PC was working. Ok, so everything had been set up a while back, but you’d had a bit too much fun trying out the new toy yourself first as Sam sat next to you whining about when it would be his turn. “So when do I get to prove to you that a game won’t scare me?” He continued as you removed the headset with a cheeky smile.

“Alright, alright… It’s your turn. But! I choose the game,” You said with a chuckle, handing over the headset and headphones to him as you jumped out of your seat on the couch to pick up the game you’d bought for the occasion. “And just ‘cause we’re hunters, that doesn’t mean we’re fully immune to jump scares Sam,” You threw over your shoulder as Sam turned the headset over in his hands with a quick roll of his eyes.

“Maybe not all of us, but I was practically raised in this life (Y/N), most things don’t make me jump anymore. And that’s real monsters,” Sam said, still putting on an act of bravado, though you knew that would end soon as you turned over the disk in your hand and inserted it into the computer.

Ok… So maybe you were being a bit mean with your choice. You had quite a selection to choose from. But hell, you normally lost any playful bet with your ridiculously smart boyfriend and for once you were determined to win. Especially since the hunter wasn’t as fond of Halloween as you were, and you just wanted to get him into that “halloween spirit” so to speak. Even if that mean making him jump with a teeny tiny round on Affected the Carnival.

“Of course, the amazing Sammy Winchester ain’t scared of nothing…,” You said with a wry grin, nodding for him to put on the headset as you started the game, quickly clicking past the start screen and into the actual game as he adjusted the set. Your little except clowns staying silently in your own head as you grinned on the screen and watched Sam put the headphones on as well.

“How long do I have to play for before you own up to losing the challenge?” He asked, pulling the headphones away from his ear to hear your response.

“Not long, let’s say 15-20 minutes?” You said with a shrug, your shit-eating grin in place and on full force now that your boyfriend could no longer see you. This should be good. Everyone needed a little jump scare on Halloween. It was a holiday tradition. Like cake on your birthday or a tree at Christmas. Pulling out your phone as Sam’s character started moving across the screen in the game your grin stayed fully in place as you hit record… Dean would wanna see this.

“Not much is really happening,” Sam said, his voice a bit louder than necessary as the headphones messed with his volume control. Though you could clearly see that the big guy’s shoulders were tenser than usual as his character moved through the darkened hallways. “I mean… It looks awesome and it’s like I’m here. So it’s fun. But not really scary,” He added, still speaking louder than he had to as you forced back a laugh and filmed it all. From Sam’s exaggerated head movements to the few times he leaned back or reached out as if to interact with something right in front of him.

“Just keep playing,” You answered, unable to keep the laughter fully out of your voice though you doubted Sam heard anything more than a muffled version of your reply. At least you could be sure the guy heard you as he nodded, making the image on the screen shift towards the floor and back up again.

It was kinda strange, how you could see everything he saw on the computer screen. And from the looks of it, the scene was one you were both quite familiar with. The darkened hallways of some dilapidated building. Like the warehouse up towards New York where you took down a whole nest of fangs. Or the old abandoned school building that the shapeshifter had been using as a hiding place.

Which could of course explain why the hunter’s shoulders were tensed and his voice slightly shaky as he kept taking his fingers off of the keyboard to reach for the gun. Yet, he had said it himself several times whenever you watched horror movies. There was no way he was gonna be scared by something that wasn’t real when there was so much actual evil out there on the streets.

“(Y/N)... This is fun and all, but… SHIT!” The loud yell that left him as the clown popped up on the screen, and therefore also right in front of his eyes with the VR headset on, had you bursting out in laughter. Tears were forming you were laughing so hard, as Sam desperately tried to fight off the clown only for another to appear. The usually calm hunter using practically every swear word in his arsenal as he fought off the clown before clearly giving up and tearing off the mask with a huff.

The patented Sam Winchester Bitch Glare™ he sent your way only made you laugh even harder, barely even keeping the phone straight anymore as you turned off your recording before wiping away a few tears from the laughing fit.

“It’s not funny (Y/N)! You were playin’ dirty with that one,” Sam pouted as he put down the VR set and shivered as he came eye to eye with the clown on the screen instead. “And wait… Were you filming me?” He added as he chose to focus on you instead of the screen.

“Yeah I did film you Winchester. For prosperity,” You laughed, holding your phone out of reach as Sam tried to reach for it. As you twisted, you quickly changed the subject back to the clowns and jump scares in an effort to stop the big guy from wrestling you for your phone. “Anyway, the clowns weren’t real. I thought fabricated stuff didn’t scare you,”

“Shut up (Y/L/N), sometimes you’re too cunning for your own good,” Sam pouted, though you could swear you still saw a smile there as he kept reaching for your phone to erase the evidence of his jump scare. And though you needed to keep the footage safe at all cost, for science and future references you were too busy to laugh to really fight back in the playful wrestling match. Choosing instead to play dirty once more as you pushed yourself up towards him and gave your boyfriend a quick peck.

“And you love me for it Sam Winchester,” You chuckled repeating his earlier words, as Sam leaned down, kissing you back before continuing your wrestling match for your phone. Unfortunately for him you had it set to automatically send everything to the cloud. But… Sam Winchester didn’t need to know that.

Tags: @auszimbo @upon-a-girl @gallifreyansass @mogaruke @skybinx-blog @delisp @jensen-jarpad @supernatural-jackles @27bmm @just-another-busy-fangirl @ecsj @deathtonormalcy56 @imboredsueme @itsthesamegametoday @riversong-sam @dslocum89 @authoressskr @spooookyscary @winchesterbrothersforever @maydayfigment @ria132love

69 notes · View notes

unrighteousbooks · 7 years

Photo

Perhaps, here among the quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore, I had fallen asleep... napping, or nearly napping. Surely it didn't matter, so late in the evening, on the last night of October. I'd locked the door before drifting off, hadn't I? Could there still be anyone in the store? Surely not. And yet, from above, I heard a sound. A rapping. No, not a rapping. A tapping. A tap, tap tapping, strangely familiar. A typewriter. Make no mistake: This was not a keyboard. This was a typewriter. My typewriter. My old Underwood. But how could it be? My beloved old Underwood had been rusting and gathering dust for decades. The tapping (somewhat louder than before) continued, and I walked toward the stairway, up to the second floor. I followed the sound to the back room, a cozy little enclave with an abundance of old books, a few chairs and tables, and a bust of Pallas. A man was sitting at one of the tables, next to the typewriter. And sure enough, he was indeed typing: quickly, proficiently, with the skill of a man who has spent countless hours with his fingers dancing across the keys. But was it my typewriter? It was in the very spot where my typewriter had been, yes, but this machine was new: It gleamed with black gloss and metallic perfection. Every keystroke sounded with a precise percussive strike, and every carriage return was marked by the bright sound of a bell. This was my typewriter, a half-century ago. The man looked up and smiled. He had bright, inquisitive eyes, almost but not quite hidden by glasses with heavy black frames, and he had a shock of thick white hair. Still certain that I had locked the door, I blurted out the first words that popped into my head: "Where did you come from?" He looked at me with a stare that said: You know the answer to that. He waited for a moment, as if he wanted to give me a chance to guess, but when I said nothing, he replied: "I came from the dust. I came from the carnival, and the sideshow, and the circus. I came from a deep, dark ravine where the Lonely One lurks and haunts. I came from Poe, and Verne, and Wells, and Lovecraft. Where did you come from?" The question seemed strangely sincere. He looked at me, waiting for an answer. "This is my bookstore," I said. He shook his head. "I asked where you came from." He tipped his head to one side. "I'm not sure you know. I think you've forgotten." And in that moment, oddly enough, I felt that he was right. Where did I come from? I wanted to answer, but did not know how. "Sometimes we are so wrapped up in our own lives, we forget where we came from. I could tell you names," he said. "Maybe you would remember. Maybe you'd remember someone named Neil. Maybe you would remember someone named Terry. Maybe. But maybe you're not supposed to remember, because if you remember too much, you don't get to write your own story. And that would be a shame, wouldn't it?" Those names... why did those names seem important? I felt that I could almost remember -- almost, but not quite. I felt slightly confused, slightly disoriented. I needed to focus: After all, surely I should be the one asking questions. "How did you get in here?" I asked. "I must say, this is the sort of thing that happens this time of year. Something about Halloween, I suppose. Or the whole month of October. But I suppose it will be over in a few hours," I said. The man stood up. "October doesn't ever really end," he said. "It's a place. It can last forever, if you really want. And we should want that. Maybe we don't need to be there every day, but we need to know that it still exists. It's a place we can visit, late at night. It's a place we came from, you and I," he said. "And it's a place we go back to, eventually. From the dust returned," he said. He looked toward the bust of Pallas, and I, too, turned toward it. When I turned back, he was gone. Vanished. I walked toward the table. My Underwood was there, but now it was as it had been for many years: Its chassis was corroded and its keys were thick with cobwebs and dust. There was a book on the table beside it, a worn old paperback that I had loved for many years. Did this really happen? I stood there, unmoving, listening for footsteps, listening for a creak on the stairway, or the sound of a door swinging on rusty hinges. I listened for all the sounds of October. I was inside, of course, sheltered from the wind and the cold, but I believe that I heard the sound of leaves, rustling through a deep, dark ravine.

#october #halloween #poe #ray bradbury #someone named neil #someone named terry

35 notes · View notes

thebooknerdgames · 5 years

Text

Crush Culture: A Peraltiago Fanfic

Words: 1462, Chapters 1/1, Language: English

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Ship: Peraltiago, Dianetti

Warnings: None (maybe swearing?)

Summary: AU where Jake and Amy meet in high school (also set in 2019).

Based on the song Crush Culture by Conan Gray

My God, don't look at your phone No one's gonna call you Quit checking your volume

It was February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day. Amy Santiago, a seventeen-year-old, was single. She had never been in a relationship, and before today she didn’t want to be in one. But this year, all her friends were dating. They were all going on dates, but she was home alone. She checked her phone every five minutes, but then realized her friends weren’t online. She didn’t care about them, though. Amy really wanted Jake Peralta to text, but he wouldn’t do that, right?

I don't care if I'm forever alone I'm not falling for you 'Cause this baby is loveproof

Amy didn’t understand what was wrong with her. She didn’t really care about relationships in high school, because she would leave there soon. She always told her friends how dumb high school boys were, but Jake was different. Jake could brighten her day with one joke or even a simple smile. Amy didn’t like it. Love made people weird. People did crazy things when they were in love. A friend of hers skipped school for a week so she could go on a road trip with her boyfriend. They broke up two days later. Amy decided that she wouldn’t fall in love with Jake. Not today, and not tomorrow.

I don't care what you're sayin' I don't wanna participate in your game of manipulation

Her phone made a sound, someone probably liked her tweet. Amy unlocked her phone and realized she had received a text from Jake. She had received a text from Jake! He had texted her before, mostly questions about their homework. This text was different, though. She read it. Do you wanna come over to watch Die Hard with me? Amy smiled, Die Hard was Jake's favorite movie. On Halloween, he always dressed up as the main character John McClane. Even though she liked the idea, she didn't want to go to his house. First of all, because her parents wouldn't allow her, and, you know, she didn't want to fall in love. Jake asking her to hang out was probably a bet anyway, so why would she care? On the other side, she was kind of bored and hanging out with Jake would be fun. She texted him back. Sounds like fun! I’m not allowed to go to your place, maybe we could go to the coffee shop, the one next to the park?

And no, I don't want your sympathy, all this love is suffocating Just let me be sad and lonely

Jake was already there when Amy arrived. She waved at him. He waved back. Amy’s hair was a mess because of the rain, Jake’s wasn’t. His hair was even curlier than usual. Oh god, she couldn’t fall in love with him. She had promised herself she wouldn’t, but he looked so cute. Amy’s phone ringed, she didn’t pick up. Only a few seconds later she got a text. It was her friend Gina. Rosa and I had such a good time! We went to the carnival and bought each other little gifts and candy! How are you doing? Please tell me you’re not alone in your room doing homework… So, Gina really thought Amy was alone in her room doing homework? Well, that’s what she had been doing before Jake had texted her, so she wasn’t entirely wrong. I did hurt, though. Amy knew Gina meant well and cared about her. She just didn’t want Gina to think that she was sad and lonely, even though she kind of was. She decided she would text her later.

'Cause... Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out I know what you're doin', trying to get me to pursue you Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out Spill my guts out, spill my guts out

On her way to the table she almost tripped. Jake made her nervous, a boy had never made her nervous before. She didn’t like it. Amy really hoped wouldn’t tell his friends about her being so weird. Oh god, she was like her friends. She acted weird because she was in love.

Oh, no, don't look in their eyes 'Cause that's how they get you Kiss you then forget you

Amy sat down. Jake had never been that close to her. She could see every color in his eyes. They were beautiful. “Hi,” She said, with a little smile. “Hi,” He replied. This was already too awkward. Had she been staring in his eyes for too long? Did he think she was a freak or a weirdo? Only one minute in and she had already messed up, great. Maybe she was worrying too much. Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe it really was a bet. He would say some sweet words, kiss her, and then forgot about her. Amy didn’t know what to do. So, she just talked.

All they feedin' you is beautiful lies So hide in the bathroom 'Til they find someone else new

"Uhm, I have to go to the bathroom." That's what she came up with? Now he definitely thinks she's a weirdo. She didn't know what to do. When Amy walked into the bathroom, she looked into the mirror immediately? She looked like a mess, apparently, her mascara wasn't waterproof. Amy went to the first stall she saw and called Gina. Gina answered immediately. "How's homework going?"

“Fine,” Amy lied, she didn’t need to know Amy was on a date.

“You don’t sound fine, though. I didn’t know you could get sick from studying too much.”

“Haha, you’re so funny. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.”

“Then you’re definitely at the right address.”

Shut your damn mouth You're talking too loud

Gina talked about her date for what seemed like ages. They had a great time, good for them. Amy didn’t really pay attention. She still didn’t understand what the big deal was. People fell in love, did dumb things, and regretted them when they broke up. Amy was truly happy for Gina but didn't think her relationship with Rosa would last. In only a couple of months, they were moving to different cities, they wouldn't see each other for months. Love was dumb.

And no one cares if you two made out I'm sick of the kissing cult

After Gina's phone call, Amy decided to give Jake another chance. She realized it was a little unfair for him. Jake had ordered some hot chocolate for her. She thanked him. At first, they were a little bit awkward, but soon they were talking about their favorite movies. Jake turned out to be a total sweetheart. He talked about his best friend Boyle, how he was such a great guy and cook. Boyle had made some cookies for her, they were delicious. The coffee shop was about to close, so they paid and went outside. They decided to go for a walk in the park. It was already dark outside; it was also pretty cold. Amy shivered.

“Are you cold?” Jake asked her. “Here, take my jacket.”

“Thanks, you’re sweet”

“You’re pretty noice, too”

“I have no idea what that means”

Jake laughed. They sat down on the grass. The stars were shining brightly. It was the perfect time to stargaze.

“I don’t want to be weird or anything, but I like you. You know, romantic stylez,” Jake whispered.

“I don’t know what that means, but I like you too.”

Dammit. She had promised herself she wouldn’t fall in love. Only a few hours later she was already telling a guy she liked him. She was not good at keeping promises, but that was alright. Being in love with Jake Peralta wasn’t a bad thing. The way Jake talked about movies, his friends, his future. Amy found out Jake wanted to work for the police, just like her.

Jake looked at Amy’s lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Amy didn’t even answer, she kissed him right away.

Two months later:

Amy knew that her relationship with Jake would only last a couple of months. She didn’t care. She wanted to spend all the hours that were left of high school with this person. The person who could brighten a room just by smiling. The person that made her laugh like no one else could. The person who loved to stargaze with her. The person who learned the lyrics to all the Hamilton songs, just so he could sing along with her. She loved him. She knew she would have to say goodbye to him soon, but that was okay. Because they still had the present, and they were going to enjoy every damn second of it.

Author’s note: I didn’t reread it, so there are definitely mistakes, I’m sorry. Thank you for reading!

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #peraltiago #peraltiago fanfic #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago fanfiction #conan gray #crush culture

0 notes